In the middle of a 65 hour work week, I had the afternoon off. My body, brain and heart had time to recharge. I’m thankful for time to pause. I’m pausing today to reflect on this song, because in the midst of 31 days, I want to listen to other people’s words, not just write for writing’s sake. It’s because of God’s wonderful, marvelous love that grace exists.
Yesterday, I ate my feelings. Three cookies and a couple pieces of chocolate later I realized what I was doing. I was upset and thought that a copious amount of sugar was somehow going to solve that. Note to self: too much sugar will give you a stomach ache, not fix any big problems, but you will be frustrated by the stomach ache and you may forget about the other problems momentarily.
But not for long. Because then the phone rings or another email comes in. It’s the reminder that over a year later, families still are not allowed to bring their children home from Congo.
I have a feeling I may be consuming a lot of chocolate this week. Or maybe I can convince my boss to take some walks with me. There’s nothing particularly worse about this week except that the Department of State issued an official statement saying that adoptive parents without referrals should cease pursuing their adoptions from Congo. Let me pause for a moment and explain. The Department of State is essentialling telling families to give up hope that they will bring a child home from Congo if they have not already received a referral for this child.
Hundreds, if not thousands, of families sit heartbroken, mourning the loss of a child they never met, but had pictured in their family for years. Their expectations, along with their hearts, are crushed.
I’ve spent many a drive home crying out to the Lord on behalf of these families and these kids. My heart breaks for them. Frankly, I’m a little pissed, my human brain screams at the Lord, “Aren’t you supposed to be great and mighty, God? You called these families to care for the orphan and this is what you give them?” My flesh just barely resists the urge to add a, “You suck!” on the end of the previous statement.
These families seeking to adopt from Congo are not alone. I’m reminded daily of heartbreak. Childhood cancer, miscarriages, abortions, failed adoptions, called-off engagements, divorces and even death. The reality is, we hope for, pray for and plan for things that may not come to fruition. We start to dream and picture how and when God is going to show up. We think through bridesmaids, baby names, adoption announcements, put down payments on houses and pay into retirement funds only to have our plans fall through. I wish I could say, “Let’s stop hoping, praying, planning and expecting,” but I don’t think that’s the answer either.
Today I stand with those who lives aren’t what they thought they would be. Today, I lift up those experiencing heartbreak and unmet expectations. In the gap between what we think things should look like and reality, Lord, would you meet us with your grace? Jesus, would we be reminded through clenched fists, tear stained cheeks and middle fingers that You meet all of our needs, that everything is a loss compared to knowing you? Would you speak to our broken hearts, into the darkness of our souls and remind us of your grace, love and compassion? And when all else fails, if it can’t fall together today, can you at least make sure we’re surrounded by lots of chocolate?
It’s Monday, which means one thing – it’s time for Monday Lovin’! I’m taking a break today from my 31 day writing challenge, #write31days, to celebrate Monday, the start of another week. While it is difficult to pull myself out of bed, it is a fresh start, which is refreshing after a crazy weekend and during a busy season at work.
Right now I’m rejoicing that Gilmore Girls is finally on Netflix. True life: I almost gave myself an ulcer in high school because I drank A LOT of black coffee trying to be as cool as Lorelei Gilmore. Yes, that is a true story. I cannot wait to curl up with a cup of coffee (now with ample creamer and Splenda) and hang out with Lorelei and Rory, wondering how I can have their metabolisms and quick wit.
I gave up drinking pop back in August because of the mass qualities that I was consuming and out of a desire to put better things in my body. While I haven’t had any soda since, I have started drinking more coffee. Which is one of the things I am loving right now, and the cooler temperatures are making it even more enjoyable. I have a fun mug at work just so I can drink my coffee every morning.
This weekend, I traveled down to Bloomington for an IU tailgate. It was bitter cold, but the time I spent with friends, the Mother Bear’s Pizza and the mimosas were totally worth it. I am continually grateful for my four years at IU and the relationships I built there that continue to be a highlight in my life.
Happy Monday! Tomorrow I’ll be back talking about grace again, see you here!
Growing up with a sister close in age to me, I always had some one to compete with. Even though we had different teachers, we had similar strengths and played the same sports. There was no getting away from sibling rivalry in our home. It always felt as though we were competing with and being compared to one another.
To this day, I still immediate engage in competition, small things and big things alike. If there’s a chance to win, it’s game on. The Gatorade commercial where Mia Hamm and Michael Jordan are taunting each other singing, “Anything you can do, I can do better; anything you can do I’m better than you,” can sometimes be the soundtrack to my life. The automatic ON switch in my brain has become detrimental to me. My mind creates competitions in things that should never involve comparison.
The desire to compete comes from a place deep in my heart that longs to believe that she is enough. Good enough, beautiful enough, smart enough, holy enough. It’s as if winning, even at trivial matters, is an indication that I am enough. It’s a cry deep within my soul to be known, fed by insecurities of inadequacy and insufficiency. These insecurities drive me to compete with other people, keeping track of their failures and shortcomings, somehow believing that if I can be better than them, then I can prove myself as enough. My own insecurities and sin tendencies paint a picture in my head of me standing before Jesus and saying, “But at least I was better than her.” The constant competition operates out of a desire to prove something, perhaps even hoping to prove myself.
But scripture tells me that my worst fears are confirmed. On my own I cannot win. Instead, I am worthy because of Jesus’ life and sacrifice, because of His grace. It’s not about my own abilities or my being better than someone else, but the sufficiency of Christ. On my own, I’ll never win, I am the worst of sinners, but in Christ I am victorious. Because of Christ, I am enough. In Christ, I can stop competing; it has already been achieved in full. I cannot add to Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross.
Because of grace, I can stop competing because there was never a competition to begin with.
I re-fell in love with running my senior year of college. I had a set 4 mile route that I would run a couple days a week. It had some hills, ran right alongside of campus and I sometimes saw people I knew as let my feet hit the sidewalk at my own pace. The running I did that year kept me sane as I served as Vice President of Phi Mu, Student Director of Cru Team, discipled five girls, started a relationship, job searched and fought to maintain friendships. I did my best thinking as dreaming down Henderson, up 3rd Street, over on High Street, down Hillside and back over on Henderson to the Dollhouse on East University. I would finish my run, sit on the porch swing and drink some water as I cooled down. It was quite the routine.
On Saturday in September, while in Bloomington for the weekend, I parked my car at Bryan Park and ran the same route. I fought back tears as I praised God for the time I spent in the very special, hippie college town 60 miles south of Indianapolis, known as Bloomington, Indiana. God was undoubtedly present during my four years of college as I roamed campus.
It was in Bloomington that I began a relationship with Jesus.
It was in Bloomington that I had four different majors and graduated not knowing what I actually wanted to do.
It was in Bloomington that I lived with 100 girls under one roof.
It was in Bloomington that I first tried to do ministry and fell flat on my face.
It was in Bloomington that I unsuccessfully tried to convince 5 boys to consider me a roommate.
It was in Bloomington that my accountability group met in a bar and we talked about the highs and lows of our lives while making friends with our bartender.
It was in Bloomington that I started to learn the art of throwing a great party.
It was in Bloomington that developed an eating disorder and saw the Lord gracefully free me from the control issues that led to it.
It was in Bloomington that I experienced a little bit of love and a little bit of heartache.
It was in Bloomington that I developed an unhealthy addiction to polar pops, party tanks and monograms.
Bloomington saw the good, the bad and the ugly of Caitlin Snyder.
I drove down to Bloomington on the heels of six hard weeks. My life had been stuck in autopilot and in order to take control again, I found myself doubting and dreaming, often times simultaneously, but always to the point of exhaustion. As I inhaled and exhaled the crisp fall air along the route I have run close to fifty times, it started to sink in that even though I live in a different city, I serve the same God. I serve a God whose goodness cannot even be described. He loves me, even as I have left Bloomington and continue my life in Indianapolis.
Note: This blog post was written in September, but still fits in well as part of my October challenge to write 31 days on grace. When I think of Bloomington, Indiana, it is a place where I have experienced God’s goodness and grace.
A roommate of mine moves out today. Sadly; tears have been shed. I’ve learned to walk again living in our small apartment and it’s a huge testament to her patience and encouragement. She has let me cry over unmet expectations again and again. She has come behind me in prayer daily. She was the brain and heart behind the girls small group and study through James this spring, which changed by life and my friendships.
Grace comes when things fall apart and better things fall together. I did not see it as it was happening, but I can look back and acknowledge just how much I needed this past year. Living with this roommate in our partial lake view apartment has demonstrated Gods faithfulness and grace towards me. It is because of Gods grace that our friendship hasbeen able to blossom and we’ve had sucha great experience. Even when days, weeks or months were rough, we were met by grace.
God’s grace strengthened and sustained us in our jobs, relationships and life this past year. Because that’s what grace does. God’s grace is made perfect in our weakness and weak we are.
As she moves on to some big transitions, I made sure to remind her that grace will continue to strengthen and guide her. For those of us raised in moralism, grace can be hardest to give to ourselves. Sometimes, an encouraging word can be just what you need to silence the inner self-critic who speaks contrary to grace. Just as God’s grace ha led us to share sweet memories over the past year, the ways we’ve been able to speak grace towards one another has been so sanctifying. It’s when we engage in true, authentic relationships that we see parts of God that had not previously been known to us.
Hi, my name is Caitlin and I’m a recovering perfectionist. I’ve learned to keep my room a little messy and try not to always plan out every single detail, but deep down in my heart, the expectations I place on myself can be suffocating. It started as a little girl and has manifested itself in so many ways over the years. As a 23 year old, I’m starting to learn just how deep the habit of perfection is rooted in my heart.
This month I’m creating space in my head and heart for grace. It is five-letter word that I like to think I love, but in reality, scares the crap out of me. Grace says that the striving for perfection tendencies that I have spent two decades clinging to should be throw on the ground and stomped all over. Grace says I don’t have to kill myself trying because it’s already been achieved. Grace challenges my lifestyle, my mindset and what I spent a majority of my years building my life on.
I know that following Jesus is worth it, and I can’t follow Jesus without letting grace sink deeper into my heart, which will in turn continue to challenge my default operation mode. In learning that this lifestyle I’m living – of achievement, comparison and constant rush – is contrary to the rich, full life that Christ has in store for me. The first step towards change is grace. Grace towards myself, which will empower space for grace to move more fully and permanently into the deep dark places of my heart.
Giving and receiving grace is as crucial as the art of breathing. So this month, I’m learning how to breathe again, so the air is getting where it needs to get and keeping my body functioning. Instead of urgent dog pants, I want a relaxed breath of peace. And it starts with grace.
I spend about an hour in my car a day. Thirty minutes to work and thirty minutes home. I have always known that I struggle with road rage, but I’ve noticed that it is getting worse. Today, when someone was going under the speed limit, I got angry and thought some inappropriate things about the driver. A driver who I’ve never met and probably did not deserve to be on the receiving end of the unkind thoughts simply because I did not approve with his or her driving. There are a million excuses that I could make, but simply stated, I am in a constant state of rush in my life that I’ve become unable to live room for grace.
Over the next 31 days, the month of October, I’m going to be writing every day on grace. It may only be a couple words, or a quick reflection on a Bible verse, but this month, I want to better see the ways that God is weaving grace into the ordinary, every day moments of my life.
I am prayerfully seeking that the Lord would grow my patience and decrease the rush in my life. And if by Halloween, I get less angry when people don’t go the speed limit on I-465, it will be an added bonus.
Freedom in my Brokenness 