Author: Caitlin Snyder

I’m a lover of Jesus, community, freedom, margaritas, running & celebrating life. I am a chronic verbal processor, who never runs out of words to communicate my many thoughts and endless feelings. Writing has given me an avenue to share what I’m learning and hash out what I believe to be true about myself, about people and about the Lord.

Choosing to Trust

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I-74 is a highway that runs between Cincinnati and Indianapolis. I’m sure it connects many more cities, but this is how I know it. I-74 has seen many of my tears as I drive back and forth between Cincinnati and Indianapolis and Cincinnati and Bloomington. I drove 1-74 from Indianapolis where I was at IndyCC home to Cincinnati my sophomore year, so convicted by sin of emotional dependency and idolatry that I was moved to tears. I returned home to Cincinnati from Bloomington in the fall of my junior year crying as I dialogued with the Lord about self-image and the unhealthy obsession I had developed with eating. After my junior year I cried as I drove 1-74 home unsure what my senior year would look like because so many of my friends had graduated. This February tears rolled down my face as I drove 1-74 back to Bloomington after a rough weekend at home reminded by God that He is in control of relationships within my family. I bawled like a baby as I drove home to Cincinnati 2 weeks ago, this trip significant because I was moving home, and wrestling with the fact that my life did not look like I had pictured it looking. If you believe I’m put together, just take a road trip with me – my road rage, random bouts of tears, verbal processing and rapid lane changing would quickly correct your beliefs. Something about the open road puts my mind into overanalyzing mode and makes me emotional.

Today I cried yet again on 1-74 returning to Cincinnati from a weekend wedding and visiting friends in Indianapolis. I spent today listening to a couple sermons, two entitled,  “Choosing to Trust.” As I listened to the words of James MacDonald, and reflected on my thoughts over the past month, even past 5 months, something became abundantly clear – trusting God is a choice. One that must be made multiple times a day, but the only way to grow one’s trust in God is to recommit things to Him. After the sermon, I said out loud to God in my car, “I trust that Your plans for me are good because You are good, and You love me. Your will, not my will, God.” I kept driving, half listening to the next sermon, half overanalyzing my life, (what I can I say, this feeler is also very analytical when it comes to trying to figure out situations) I started to get upset and anxious again. I felt convicted to repeat the same words out loud that I had said 15 minutes ago, “I trust that Your plans for me are good because You are good, and You love me. Your will, not my will, God.” A calm swept over me as I remembered an image that has been floating through my head for the past couple days. In this image, I’m on a tight rope taking one baby step at a time away from land, but unsure where exactly this tight rope is leading me. After each step I take, the Lord whispers, “Do you still trust me?” I grasp His hand a little tighter as I adjust and try to take the next step battling every fiber in my being that just wants to sprint back to the security of land. James MacDonald said in his sermon that we surrender things to the Lord and tell Him that we trust, and then we may have to do the same thing 30 minutes later or days later. He also reminds the audience that we will always have to deal with uncertainty. Perhaps that’s where God has me right now, trying to teach me how to deal with uncertainty in a healthy way, and not overanalyze every element of my life.

My goal this week is when I get overwhelmed, uncertain or upset about my circumstances to repeat the words I said in the car, “I trust that Your plans for me are good because You are good, and You love me. Your will, not my will, God.” Even if I say these words 10 times in a day, it will eventually make it from my mouth to my heart. So many things are out of my control right now, but I do have a choice to make – will I choose to trust God with my circumstances, with this season, and with my life? It starts right now, and each and every moment.

The Visible & the Invisible

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I had a hard day today. It was one of those days that I regretted putting on make-up, ate ice cream out of the carton at 11am and considered going back to bed instead of into work. I’m tired of hearing that I don’t have enough experience for jobs, or being asked what my long-term plan for my life is. I’m convinced that anyone who can tell me what they think their life will look like in 10 years should be kicked hard in the shins. It’s just not reality. Not for me, and not for most people – I’ve asked around. I sat in my car for a couple minutes after a quick trip into JoAnne’s Fabric and had a yelling match at God in my head. It went something like this, “Lord, I know you have purpose and the fact that I am where I am right now is somehow good for me, I just don’t see it. I’m done. I’m ready to just be done. I want to know why I’m here because I can’t see your purpose in it. You say wouldn’t waste experience and here I am doubting that I can even do ministry, I feel so completely disregarded. I don’t see it.” Uncertainty brings out the doubter in me, that’s for sure.

This evening I’ve been trying to work through some of this stuff. I know my circumstances aren’t going to change overnight, but I want my attitude to change, but for me I struggle to fake things, I can’t fake an attitude change, I need to change the belief, or figure out how do that. As I’ve been reading through the Gospel of Mark, I found myself judging the disciples just a little bit – feel free to judge me now, I deserve it. Jesus’ disciples watched Him feed 5,000 people and then the next time there were a large number of people to feed (4,000), they wanted to run for the hills thinking it was impossible. Reality is, without God both of those situations are impossible. The amount of food that they had in front of them could feed a family, not thousands of people, but it did. In between those two events, Jesus calms a storming ocean even as the waves are crashing up onto the ship that the disciples are in. Without God, the disciples and the ship would have been no more.

As I’ve thought and prayed through these events, I’m reminded just how much I have in common with the disciples. When things get rough, I fixate on the visible reality right in front of my eyes. My inexperience, my joblessness, my singleness, my lack of community, and the list goes on. Just as the disciples did. They fixed their eyes on the visible – multitudes of people to feed and the raging seas. I, just like the disciples, forget that there’s another part of the story. It’s invisible. That’s why it’s easy to forget. Even as I reflect back on my pity party in my car, one word came up numerous times – see. There is an invisible part of my reality – God’s goodness cannot always be seen to me. He has prepared me to whatever comes next; He is teaching me about His character, even as I wallow in self-pity. He declares that the best is yet to come. He continues to ask me to take one more step of faith into unchartered territory, against what make sense to my rational (pretend I’m rational) mind. But I want to see evidence, I don’t just want to believe it might be there, I want to see the purpose. One of the most beautiful things about God to me is how He weaves the visible and the invisible together all for His glory. But my earthy perspective prevents me from seeing the weaving some days. God, would you grant me the eyes to see how you’re weaving the invisible and the visible together in my life? And on difficult days, like today, just help me to believe that the invisible exists and that there’s more than what I can see.

“…blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.” John 20:29

“So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.” 2 Corinthians 5:18

Being Sent Sets Me Free

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When I left Chicago almost 2 years ago after summer project and the best summer I’ve ever had, a sweet friend looked me in the eyes and said, “this is how we get set free.” You see, I was sad about leaving Chicago. It was in that city that I saw God move mountains in my faith. I spent countless hours with my nose in my Bible and it was some of the best community I had ever experienced. Healing happened. I simply did not want to leave. The point of summer project was/is to learn to truly walk with God and do ministry on college campuses so that I could take my experiences back to IU, and bring the Gospel to my own campus. I went back to Bloomington and took with me the experiences from summer project, and had a wonderful year.

This phrase came back to me this year as prepared to leave Bloomington. Throughout the past year, I’ve asked God numerous times if He wanted me back in Bloomington and never heard a yes. Knowing what I know now, I’ve spent time wondering if I made the right decision. And I am confident that I did. For the same reason Chicago Summer Project could not go on forever. Leaving Bloomington, stepping outside the community that knows me so well is how I get set free.

At the beginning of His ministry, Jesus gathered 12 men to be His disciples. They went with Him as He healed and preached. They spent time with Him and learned from Him. And then Jesus sent them out on their own. Mark 6:12-13 states, “They went out and preached that people should repent. They drove out many demons and anointed many sick people with oil and healed them.” The disciples go out and then they come back, only to be sent out again. This is how God uses us to spread the Gospel, by sending those He has called out to the world.

I love Cru. I love IU. I love Bloomington. But, I get set free by leaving. I get set free by being sent. I don’t exactly know where I’m being sent – lots of opportunities right now, but I know that I am sent. I have been trained to share the Gospel. I have seen what authentic community looks like. Wonderful mentors have invested me in. I have had the opportunity to plan events for God’s glory. I have been taught how to lead a Bible study. Heck, I’ve been taught how to study the Bible. I believe people have been called back to IU to intern with Cru and give a year of their lives to college ministry, but I know that right now I’m called to be sent out.

Being sent is how I’m set free. The greatest desire of my heart is to walk with Jesus for a lifetime, wherever my life my lead. I needed to leave Bloomington to learn how to walk with Jesus during this next season of life. I get to take everything I’ve learned in the past 4 years with me wherever I may end up. The college season of my life is over, but leaving and moving on is how I get set free.

Second Chances

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I love stories. I’ve recently rediscovered my love for politics. I love to read. Right now, I’m reading a book that combines all my loves. The Presidents Club, by Nancy Gibbs and Michael Duffy, details the elusive relationship between the presidents. In the first 50 pages of the book, I’ve found a beautiful story I can’t seem to forget.

Herbert Hoover’s reputation was terrible as he left the office of the presidency. He was blamed for the Great Depression; in fact the homeless villages got dubbed “Hoovervilles” for his inability to help the poor in America during the greatest economic downturn our country has seen. No one wanted to be associated with Hoover; his own political party asked that he not help with campaigning because they were afraid that it would hurt a candidate’s chances of being elected. According the authors of the book, Congress even talked about impeaching Hoover. He was hated.

Anyways, Howard Truman took over the presidency in 1945 during the end of World War II, and Hoover sent Truman a note indicating that if there was anything he could do for Truman, he would. We can’t be for sure what exactly happened, but Truman invited Hoover to the White House for his advice on how to handle the situation in Europe – hundreds of thousands of people were starving, farm lands were war-ravaged and a majority of the continent’s livelihoods had been destroyed, and Truman wanted Hoover’s help. What Truman did was more than ask for help; he was giving Hoover a second chance. Under Hoover’s watch, Americans lost jobs, filed for foreclosure on homes and struggled to feed their families. Upon Truman’s invitation, Hoover started to cry. To simplify the rest, Hoover accepted the chance to help out America, and humanity everywhere. He spent the next 18 months at the age of 71 (in the 1940’s this would have been very old), traveling the world trying to ensure that people were fed. He worked closely with Congress, the State Department and President Truman to generate new food sources, have other countries donate food and adjust agricultural policies in the U.S. to send to Europe. Hoover, along with Truman and other state leaders, believed that keeping people fed was crucial to defending Europe from communism.

The man whose reputation was that of being heartless and allowing Americans to struggle spent 18 months traveling around the world advocating against hunger. Why? Because he was given a second chance. Truman gave Hoover a second chance. I can’t get this out of my head. This story defines grace. The radical grace that changes life. Herbert Hoover’s life was no longer defined by the Great Depression, but also by saving lives of those in Europe from dying of starvation. His reputation was restored, and a life-changing friendship emerged above partisan politics. I want to be like Howard Truman. Not because I’m super concerned with reputations, Jesus’ own reputation was not so great with his enemies, but because I want to extend grace. I want to give second chances that change lives. My life has been changed by grace; in Christ, I have been given an, infinite numbers of second chances. May I be a radical grace extender.

I Am Not Alone

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The end of college has been a difficult season for me. The end of a relationship, the end of college and entering the big unknown without much direction has put me on my butt. I feel like a beat-up version of myself who is just trying to get through each day. Which I’m told is completely normal. The past few weeks, I’ve been suck in “my life sucks” mode with moments that remind me of God’s promises, but the moments are few and far between. Yesterday I received messages from two friends who I haven’t been in close contact with, and I was reminded of some very important truth. I am not alone. Countless others have been through this same transition before, and so many are in it right now. I am not alone.

I was so humbled. I felt like my eyes were suddenly open to God’s goodness in a season where I’ve felt beat up by the world. It was almost as if God himself removed blindness from my eyes and let me see all the good that He has blessed me with in the past couple weeks. Instead of having few moments of seeing God’s goodness, I’ve only had moments the past 2 days of “my life sucks.” I’ve seen restoration in some friendships. I’ve had my parents wrap their arms around me and tell me it’s going to be okay – something I’ve needed since I was 16 year old. In the midst of feeling like a failure for graduating without a job, I’ve had acquaintances, close friends and family remind me just how proud they are of me… something so healing; if only I could get it to sink into my heart. I’ve been forced to start to think about what I want out of life through dreaming and communing with God. Older, wiser women have shared stories of their past break-ups and broken hearts as encouragement that it does, in fact, get better. Psalms have come alive to me – talk about saying Amen at the end of Psalm 27 when David says, “Yet I am confident of this, I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord!” So many close friends and even those I’m not super close to have sat in my suffering with me to make sure I know I’m not alone. I am not alone.

I’ve been reminded that I’m oh so lost and broken, but that’s not the end of the story. I am deeply loved by a God who refuses to let me be in suffering alone, that’s why He sent Jesus, and why Christian community reflects God’s love. Even when I have nothing to offer, and I am a hot mess around friends, they love me in it. Because I am not alone.

Skinned Knees

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I bit it big time walking into my house on Friday night. I skinned my knees, my foot, my palms and even chipped my nail polish somehow. I was embarrassed and in pain. Thankfully my roommates rushed to my side and did all that they could, but they couldn’t take the pain away. At first I couldn’t wait for the wounds to stop bleeding, then I realized a lack of blood didn’t mean a lack of pain. My roommate came into my room to tell me a story and I was so focused on not crying and I was in so much discomfort that I had trouble listening to what she was saying.

Even as I laid down on top of my bed with Neosporin on each of skinned knees, my wounds were still tingling with pain, and I couldn’t bring myself to focus on anything else. I was felt paralyzed and shaky; every movement I made hurt because I hurt. Thankfully, I’m recovering, my wounds have scabbed over and I’m not shaky anymore. I can move without thinking about being in pain. However, every once in a while, something hits my palm or I bang my knee, and as a result, I wince. Because it’s not fully healed, and it reminds me of the hurt.

Earlier in the week, I met with a counselor through my church. He talked about emotional wounds. Unlike my beat up body, emotional wounds cannot be seen. There are events in our lives that leave wounds, each person has different ones, but we all have them. Unfortunately we aren’t always aware of these wounds until they get skinned open again or if it gets hit. For me, a lack of stability in my life is like banging my already skinned knee. Right now, I seem to bang that knee a lot, and then I remember just how much it still hurts. It’s not always paralyzing, I can function normally most of the time, but not always. I’m still healing. Unlike physical wounds, emotional wounds take lots of time to heal. If only emotional healing was as easy as putting Neosporin on my knees.

I’ve found a lot of comfort in David’s words in the Psalms lately. He’s a messed up and faithful man with honest words; words that meet me in a season full of uncertainty and instability. David talks about waiting for God, and being confident that God will show up. Not because his life doesn’t suck at times, but because his life’s circumstances did not determine God’s goodness. There’s healing to be done in this season. God has me here to teach me something crucial about His character. So here’s to emotional wounds healing like skinned knees. Lord, I want to have the same faith as David, that despite uncertain situations, You are so very faithful all the time.

20’s

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I had a cool conversation last summer with a co-worker. I was commenting on how difficult the 20’s are. I’m 22. I’m broke. I’m unemployed. I’m single. I’ll be moving back in with my mom and dad. In so many ways, I feel like a failure. My college degree seems useless, but I’ll be paying it off for the next couple years. Anyways, I was telling this co-worker about how my mom told me that the 20’s are just plain hard. You don’t have much money, jobs are hard to come by and long-term vision may be lacking. All of which I’m currently experiencing. My friend, who was 28, responded, “Yes, it could be a difficult season, but think about how great the season could be too. Just you and God and a huge adventure.”

There are so many ideas about the 20’s. Each day I find a new blog about it. You should travel in your 20’s. You should save money in your 20’s. You should get married in your 20’s. You shouldn’t complain about not working your dream job in your 20’s. If I listened to all the advice that people have for this unique decade of my life, I would run in circles because I wouldn’t know where to actually go or what to do. I don’t need advice from others to make me feel even more confused.

My new theory is that one’s 20’s are confusing and hard. That’s why there’s such a desire to make sense of them. The quicker I can shake the idea that I need to have a plan or do things the same way as everyone else in order for something to be good, the quicker I can start enjoying my 20’s and this season of life. The unknown and uncertainty doesn’t make it any less of an adventure, and God is constant and good. I met with a pastor at my church this week and he told me that it’s important to acknowledge what is true about my current circumstances. I am unemployed, single and lacking in direction, but it’s also important to acknowledge what is true about God. He is always good. His love guides and sustains me. He is writing a beautiful story of with my life. Nothing about God changes even when my circumstances change. The God who brought me into relationship with Him here in Bloomington when I was 18 will continue to be faithful as I move home to Cincinnati on Sunday. I don’t need to make sense of my 20’s; I don’t even have to have a plan for my 20’s, I just get to walk closely with Jesus and let Him write the adventure.

Not Yet

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When I feel like my life is falling apart, I tend to call my mom a lot. During normal times in life, I usually talk to her once a day. When things are really going great, sometimes we only talk every three days. The past 3 weeks I think we’ve averaged talking on the phone three times a day. Such is life. We were talking on the phone on Friday and she mentioned a job opportunity; obviously this unemployed almost-college graduate’s ears perked up. She went onto say that there currently aren’t any of this position, but there would be soon. The department is not in a place to hire quite yet. Not yet. I responded back saying, “This seems to be the season of ‘not quite yets’, huh?” She chuckled and said confidently, “Caitlin, it’s going to fall into place soon.”

My life does not look like what I thought it would, as college graduation is less than a week away. Instead of apartment searching in Chicago, I’m preparing to move home with my parents. Instead of being about to start a cool new job, I’m still unemployed and applying for things with the only necessary qualification being a high school diploma. Two weeks ago in the midst of what will go down as probably the worst week of my life thus far, I heard the Lord say, “Caitlin, I needed to drastically redirect you.” And that He did. From a place of confidence in what the future looked like to the yuckiness of complete uncertainty. Yet, I’m reminded that I never really knew what the future looked like.

So here I am, in complete uncertainty, waiting. Waiting. Waiting for the not yets to become exciting cheers of finally. I am waiting to see what job God provides, waiting to see what church I end up attending, and waiting to see what community I’ll be a part of. Waiting reminds me of just how much I like to be in the know. I like to make plans, and have the necessary information to make said plans. That’s not my reality right now. I move home in exactly a week and all I know is that I’ve filled out a bunch of job applications, and I’ll be working at J.Crew until something else works out. Waiting reminds me that the only thing worthy of hope is Christ. In fact, my life here on earth is merely a waiting period until the perfect eternity of heaven. As much as I hate it, waiting is a reality; Moses and the Israelites waited in the desert for 40 years. In fact the premise of Christianity is built around the Jews waiting on a messiah, or Jesus. Entire generations waited.

As I journaled this morning, I was reminded that God cares more about my sanctification than He does my comfort. I am not comfortable right now. Waiting makes me anxious. It makes me a doubter. But it also reminds me that I serve a faithful God. I serve a God who goes to great measures to redirect me to a place that is not just good, but great. I serve a God who is working all things so that they do fall into place… in His timing, not mine. He will redeem all of these not yets for His glory.

Life in Transition

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I don’t do well with transition. Not for a lack of trying or praying. It was actually my transition to college when Jesus captured my heart because I couldn’t make sense of my own life anymore. Anyways, I started praying for my transition out of college last summer, and throughout the semester I haven’t stopped. The prayers have looked different – help me finish well, prepare community for me wherever I end up, not my will, but Yours, God. This transition has already been particularly difficult, and I’ve confessed to friends feeling lost, broken and confused. I feel like a sheep wandering aimlessly. I’m just struggling with how to move on post-college, which leaves me paralyzed and unsure if I want to get out of bed in the morning. I toss and turn all night and then it takes all my strength to put one foot in front of another and walk to class.

In the midst of feeling so broken, or as I keep referring to myself, “a hot mess”, I’m trying to say good-byes, finish up discipleship for the year and celebrate a great time living with my roommates. While my brain is running a million miles a minute, the Lord spoke a sweet truth to me this afternoon. I was confessing and crying and upset that I have nothing let to give, nothing left to offer. God so kindly reminded me that I have never had anything to bring to the table. It has never been about what I have to offer. God declares that His power is made perfect in my weakness. I have never felt so weak in my life.

My sister encouraged me to make a list of all the times I’ve felt overwhelmed, inadequate and paralyzed by the future and claim truth over it. It was beautiful to process through God’s goodness in seasons when I felt overcome by my emotions. My ability to acknowledge that God is good is not conditional on how I feel. I walked to campus yesterday and told the Lord that because my feelings are fleeting, I will cling to what I know. I know that God is good. I know that God is faithful. I know that God is working all things for my good. I know that despite that I bring nothing to the table except my tears, God will use my weakness for His good.

Easter Sunday

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In a season of uncertainty, I feel like I am waiting for things to fall into place. Just this weekend, I’ve watched several things fall into their said places, the “big” stuff is still coming. Easter has hit me very hard this year. I’ve been on the verge of tears as I contemplate Christ’s sacrifice and resurrection. Because my life feels like it’s stuck on Saturday. Good Friday has already happened, but Sunday is tomorrow. And when it’s Saturday, Sunday feels so far away. I’m waiting and hoping that death is not the end and that Jesus’ words will be right and He will be rised from the dead, but there’s a small seed of doubt. What if Jesus doesn’t show up on Sunday? What if I’m right to be a skeptic? With my back up against a wall, will Jesus show up?

Today is Easter Sunday. Today I celebrate that Jesus was and is who He said He was. Today the tomb is empty and Christ is victorious. Today the skeptics are made believers and doubts are put to death. Today I’m reminded that Saturday’s waiting and hoping is not in vain.

I might still be stuck on Saturday in my heart, but instead of doubting in my waiting, I can hope. I can trust. God will do as God has done. God comes into hopeless situations and inserts Himself into the story, saying, “Don’t worry, I’m coming back, and the best is yet to come.” Sunday is better than Saturday. This next season will be great, but only a shadow of the season after life in heaven. So here’s to hoping with the full knowledge that Sunday will come; resurrection is the ultimate victory, and I get to live in it. Lord Jesus- come reminding me of the victory you’ve won and that I get to live in it. I get to live in the reality of a King who died and rose again, defeating death and reminding me that the best is yet to come.