A Blog. A Toast.

 I know I'm not alone in saying that I have those days when I find myself asking, "Who the heck am I? When did my life completely change? When did I stop being 17?"
In the past week I've seen many faces from my past and if I haven't actually seen their face in person, they've bombarded my dreams in the night.
Some of these people I miss, well, in all honestly, I miss all of them...but I miss THEM, not who they are presently. I miss the person they were when I laughed in the highschool hallway with them, the person they were when we would stay up late at night playing, " For a million dollars would you...?"
I hate that life has changed. I absolutely hate it because I've lost a lot of amazing people in the last few years.
But then I feel extremely selfish...because I remember all the great things that have happened to me these last few years and the new people that have entered my life.
Courtney.
A lot of people probably wonder, " why are they so 'obsessed' with eachother? " Maybe if you knew what we knew...you would understand for a split second what our friendship actually is. Our friendship happened exactly where we both needed it to happen. Courtney's parents were moving and I was fixing to go through some extremely rough crap. Serious crap.
God plucked us up, uprooted us, and bumped us into each other. We just...clicked. Our senior year was a roller coaster. We had an amazing time with one another, but we also had to drive out to a field a couple of times and hash out a fight or two. You think I'm kidding.
We stayed up late, painted our toe nails, and laughed at things only we knew.
We would go for drives when one of our hearts got broken, singing country love songs to the top of our lungs, hair blowing in the wind...in that old piece of crap convertible she had back in high school.
Slushies, walmart, that tanning phase we went through.
Secrets, heart ache, self image issues. Welcome to high school folks...
but we luckily survived. We walked across that large stage not knowing what that night would mean for us.
Senior summer flew by so quick I couldn't hold onto one morsel of it.
I still remember that day we hugged goodbye as I left for a year in Alabama. I waved goodbye to that girl who had grown to be my sister those last two years.
That was a rough year apart. It was hell.
This was the year that me and Courtney grew in a way I never knew was possible. Our friendship blossomed as my childhood died along with the era me and Courtney thrived in.
I'm a strong, never gonna see me cry kinda girl...but when I reflect on that year, my entire spirit breaks.
I lost myself, I lost respect, I lost friends.
I cried myself to sleep night after night.
But there was one girl who drove her butt 6 hours to Alabama the moment she knew my life had just flipped upside down.
I still remember her banging on my apartment door in Birmingham. I still remember sitting in the car with her, leaning over my steering wheel sobbing like life was at it's end.
She hugged me.
And cried too.
She called people names who rejected me.
She never once said, "What were you thinking?! I can't believe you!"
She never once corrected me, slandered me, or scolded me.
She loved me.
She said..."Let's go get slushies and paint our nails."
And things got better...with years.
She was there to dye her hair half pink with me.
And go through that Yoga phase with me.
She was there to make me dance in the car when I really just wanted to punch someone in the face.
She was there for all the family Oklahoma trips.
I was there when she wanted to throw her phone out the window that one time on the freeway.
I was there when she liked that boy, or that one...
I was there when she probably didnt even want me to be.
I've always been there fighting for her, sometimes against her, but always with her...
With every change and phase I've gone through, God has designed her to change and morph with me.
We've gone through bad hair cuts together.
We've gone through break ups together.
We've gone through failure together.
But we're the only ones who have looked at each other's biggest mistake and said, " so what? I'm still your best friend. Let's keep going."
There have been many times that Courtney had carried me on her back and not known it...but I did. And God did.
When I need slack, she gives it.
When she needs it, I give.
She's the only friend I've ever let in to see my brokenness.
The only one that's worked hard enough to see into my heart that I finally gave in .
Courtney can break me with one "It's okay" hug.
Courtney can make me laugh with one joke.
No matter how long this blog is, or how many stories of hurt or happiness I tell you...
Nobody will probably ever get the bond we have.
It's confusing even when I try to grasp it.
But I know what is, I know what God designed when He thought to put Courtney into my life...
was incredible.
And I needed it.
And I still do.
We've faced fire, and I'm sure the fire just keeps going as life keeps trucking.
But the most comforting feeling...is that when I'm 30, 40, 50, 105...Courtney will be there to give me a "It's okay" hug and go get a slushie with me.


I love you Courtney.

Before I start, pardon any grammar mistakes. When God laid this blog on my heart I was in my car driving on the freeway, therefore I'm typing this blog from my smart phone because I couldn't wait to share my heart.
Lately my heart has been breaking for all my beautiful friends who don't see themselves like I do. Today, any size over a size zero isn't "beautiful." Even though I will focus on eating disorders some in this blog, it's not my main point. My point is confidence. I don't care if you're a size one or a size 21, that no longer matters.
The number inside your jeans, the number that makes your stomach drop when it appears on your scale every morning, isn't what I see when I look at you. You don't have a huge 14 stamped on your forehead for the entire world to see.
Some of the most beautiful women I've had the pleasure of knowing in my life, the ones who have poured the most into my heart...are full-figured, God-fearing and healthy women!
When I look at these women, the ones who have shown me God's love, I don't see the size of their waist; I see beauty. I see wisdom. I see Christ.
A woman can walk into a room I'm in, it doesn't matter if she's 100 pounds in Chanel, or 200 pounds in pajamas...if she walks into that room with purpose and confidence, I'm naturally drawn to her. I naturally want whatever she is possessing: unwavering confidence!
Let me let you in on another secret: MEN LOVE a confident woman! It's attractive!
Now let me clarify I'm not beating everyone else up and claiming I have all the confidence in the world, because that would be a big fat lie.
This issue is so very dear to my heart because I was that woman, and honestly at time I still am when I'm not completely relying and trusting in my Creator. I can openly and (not proudly) but in confidence say I struggled with body image and eating disorders from 9th grade until last year. For 6 years my weight was flying around all over the board. I would have a spell of struggling and then be okay. Off and on off and on.
This struggle was once a secret I felt guilty to admit, but now, God has shown me that I should never be ashamed of something that He has gracefully and miraculously pulled me out of. On the contrary, I should be rejoicing and sharing the good news!
Today I am six months scale sober. Sounds crazy right? Today marks six months since I last stepped on a scale to be discouraged or disappointed! For the first time in over 6 years, I have no idea what I weigh. And it's freaking awesome feeling.
Many people don't understand my love of running. I do enjoy exercise and how it makes me feel. I love eating right and taking care of the body God entrusted me with. But, one of the reasons I love running so much is that God took something and disguised it as healing. When I run and train so hard, I feed my body right. I take care of myself because if I don't it could literally destroy my chances of success at a race or marathon that I've been training so hard for.
God planted a seed in me. He works in mysterious ways, and for me, He took running and lit a desire for it in me. There is a bigger picture with God. Always.
When we suffer, like I did with feeling inadequate and unbeautiful, He had all the women who are close to my heart who are currently suffering in mind. He had this blog in mind. God could have taken that struggle from me and I could have never struggled with my self image my entire life and been just fine...BUT! His desire for my healing was not as great as His desire for the bigger picture. Which has brought Him more glory? My suffering which turned into a witness of His grace to other women? Or me never suffering at all and having it easy?
CONFIDENCE is beautiful!
Instead, your beauty should consist of your true inner self, the ageless beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of the greatest value in God's sight. (1 Peter 3:4 GNT)

A Father of Love Rearing a Child of Hate

Rearing (verb ) - Bring up and care for (a child) until they are fully grown, esp. in a particular manner or place.

"For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son that whosoever believes on Him shall have eternal life." -John 3:16

"If someone says, 'I love God,' and hates his brother, he is a liar; for the one who does not love his brother whom he has seen, cannot love God whom he has not seen." - 1 John 4:20

"If you love those who love you, why should you be commended? Even sinners love those who love them."-Luke 6:32

God is love. We are not. Nothing about us screams love, only the sacrifice that was made for us can be labeled with love.
I have thought until now that I loved and knew what love was. I was raised as a church kid. You know what I'm talkin' bout here.
I was taught to open doors for old people, say hi to the girl in Sunday School even if inside she made me want to gag.
I was taught with felt boards and paper Jesus figures on stories of a man on a Cross, a widowed woman with nothing to give but herself, a blind man and a cripple man.
I did JBQ, TBQ, Fine Arts...I was involved in every drama, every event, every trip the youth took you betcha I was there.
I was the little girl who sang on the church stage with an over-sized microphone singing words I really didn't understand at the age of four. But I was cute, right?
The first song I ever sang on that church platform was "He's still working on me."
I was just focused on getting it the crap over with and not forgetting the words. The words to the song are actually really silly, but the message didn't hit that little girl until she was a 21 year old woman.
"He's still workin' on me, to make me what I outta' be..."
Shoot, I was a grown woman...I knew my stuff. I could quote every verse you wanted to hear. I had won awards at many Christian affiliated competitions. I always wore my WWJD bracelet proudly and plastered a Jesus fish on my car bumper.
I was raised as a church kid. You know what I'm talkin' bout.
I knew nothing, NOTHING about walking in love, or love at all.
If you told me how cute I looked that Sunday, I loved you.
If you kept contact with me, I loved you.
If you respected me, I loved you.
If you told me what I wanted to hear, I loved you.
If you had a problem with me, I did NOT love you.
My head knew all these references and facts of Jesus, but my heart knew nothing of love.
AKA...I knew nothing of Him.
21 years and 5 months ago God chose me.
He knew I would grow up as a selfish, ignorant, disrespectful, loveless brat.
He knew I would turn my back on Him and question Him the entire way.
He knew I would clap and sing and raise my hands right on cue but feel nothing.
He knew I would talk behind people's backs.
He knew I would lose friends.
He knew I would gain enemies.
He knew I would screw up....
again.
and again.
He knew I would spit in my family's face with disobedience.
He knew I would tell lies to the people I would one day cling to.
He knew I would move to Alabama and then move back.
He knew I would transition to a new church when I thought I would be somewhere forever.
He knew I would act as a foolish teenage girl when I thought I knew everything.
He knew I would fall flat on my face in front of everyone I cared about.
He knew I would face the glares and stares of those who once embraced me with love.
He knew I would say yes when He said no.
He knew I would be on my bedroom floor that night, face red and puffy from sobbing...begging for Him to heal my daddy.
He knew I would one day come back to Him.
He knew I would one day understand to love people for where they are in their walk of life.
He knew I would one day learn to forgive through other people's unforgiveness.
He knew I would one day learn to love through someone's bitterness.
He knew I would one day transform from a child of hate, to a child of Love.

He knew I would be a child of hate, until I looked His way. 

"This is love: it is not that we loved God but that He loved us and sent His Son as the sacrifice that deals with our sins." -1 John 4:10

Simplicity

Simplicity.
Yeah, right. When one of you finds something on this earth even close to simple, let me know.
Schedules are complicated.
Relationships are complicated.
Even the person ( and we all have one ) that we consider to be the most shallow human being known to mankind is complicated.
At the beginning of this year God kept throwing the concept of "Simplify" at me.
Ironically, life has complicated and twisted itself more than ever after He introduced me to this stranger by the name of simplify.
My dad, who I was positive was healed of cancer was found to be not as clean as we thought. Take the strongest person you know, the one person that has always been the most stable individual you know of...and picture them in a trying time of pain and weakness. Just flat out tired. In my eyes, my dad is the wisest, strongest, most passionate man of God I know. He practically hung the moon in my universe. Seeing my dad so fatigued broke me. Seeing my mother take care of him, her students, and me and my older sister even after we had moved out shattered my heart. If any woman has been through hell and kept her focus on Jesus and her head filled with everyone but herself, it's my mother.
I went through an awkward and horribly selfish phase as a teen, yet my parents continued to be the most sacrificing and loving people for me. I made a lot of mistakes and blew it big time.
And right when I thought they'd had enough, that surely this time I had ran their love dry, the unexpected happened. My parents wrapped their shielding arms around me and fought my battle with me. They took on my pain as their own and protected me when I was at my lowest. These same two people have managed to balance my dad's fight with cancer and living a life of love and peace. Recently, I grasped why God threw that word at me at the beginning of the year, before I even knew what was going on. God knew things were fixing to get complicated; my dad would get rediagnosed and I would question God how He could do this to my parents who have done nothing but take care of others, I would question myself and my role as a woman vs. a child, I would undoubtedly complicate every event that occurred the coming year. God wasn't saying, " simplify, life really isn't that hard Britney if you would just do things right." He was saying, " daughter, things will not always be easy for you. Sometimes this will be your choice, but other times things will simply occur by My will and you will not understand...instead of complicating things you will never understand, simplify. Trust in My sovereignty."
What my family is battling cannot be understood, but it can be simplified. My dad has cancer: this is conplicated. My God is more than enough: this is simple.

Louder Is Not Always Better.

The quiet girl.
Too shy.
Snotty.
Stuck up.
I've been labeled many things due to my quiet nature, particularly negative, and it all used to bother me. But, once you reach a certain age, you come to realize that quiet is typically better than loud any day.

People may mistake you're gentleness and quietness for being a complete snob, but is it not better to have them guess at who you are rather than you be completely loud and them know?


I would rather be labeled a snobby girl than a loud mouthed gigglish girl on any given day of the week.


I could never tell you how many times I have had adult women say, "Talk! Open up! You never speak...you're too quiet." I do not suppose that any of these women have instead thought that perhaps maybe they should be a little more quiet themselves and think more than speak.

You can never go wrong when you spend the majority of your day swimming in thought rather than exercising your tongue.

I have come to a point in my life that if I think I am fixing to bring up another human being's life that really has nothing to do with me, I tell myself to shut up and mind my own business.

I do not want to hear, "Have you heard about..." "OMG...did you know him and her...?"
No, I have not heard, and I am quite sure the person you are about to slander would not like me to know as well.

Think first, then speak.
Think:
Will this hurt someone?
Does this situation have anything to do with my life what so ever?
Will me relaying this information to anyone else better the situation or uplift another individual?

It's really easy.  Just shut up.
If you can not find another topic to discuss with your friends other than other people and their problems, perhaps you should surround yourself with people of more intelligence.

I may not run up to you and gab to you about my entire life when I see you.
I may not hug all over you and make a scene to show everyone that I have arrived.
You may never have a long and meaningful conversation with me...ever.

I purposefully choose who I expose myself to.

If I am so quiet around you, maybe it's not me after all friend.
Perhaps I think you are a loud individual who talks so much about others to me, that it would be of no surprise if my own business was retold to me next week by a complete stranger because you can't lock your lips up.

I do not speak unless I have something to say.
I choose my words and I never speak without purpose.
Even in an insult, I mean to say it exactly when I say it.

My friends are people who have better things to talk about rather than discussing other people's short comings.

So, if we don't talk...
there's your sign.
So call me a snob, call me too quiet, tell everyone else that my nose is always stuck too high in the air to lower it to your level...

I'll never tell you otherwise, because I'll probably never tell you much of anything...

For all the screw-ups

I'm sure you're there's many of you lurking everywhere, hiding behind a huge letter plastered on your chest, whatever letter it is that represents your past, your big mistake, your ultimate screw-up of all time...
And I'm here to tell you that it is time to take that letter off, give whoever put it on you the bird, and walk with your head high.
Life is too short for shame.
Too short for guilt.
Too short to beat yourself over a screw-up.
Trust me, I know you and I know how big a screw-up can really be...
brothers and sisters...
for I am the biggest screw-up I have ever met.
BUT, guess what? I'm OKAY with being a screw-up, okay with having flaws, a past, a big mistake in my rear view mirror.
If you decided not to look in your rear view mirror for one whole day, what would happen do you think?
You'd get into the other lane on the freeway and crash into another car...
you wouldn't be able to predict other things coming.
You would drive aimlessly and blindly.
I've always heard to leave the past in the past and not look back.
My friends, it's okay to look back at where you've been to help you look to where you are headed.
In fact, it's almost necessary. I want to be able to look in the rear view mirror of my life and see where I've been, see things for what they were and be warned of what to look out for as I keep driving.
If it helps, and it helped me, take a drive alone, maybe down a road you've never been before...roll down your windows, stick your head out as far as you can and scream at the top of your lungs,
"I'M A SCREW-UP! I MADE A MISTAKE! I HAVE A PAST! SUCK IT WORLD!"
Sounds immature right? Sounds crazy right? Who cares! Get crazy, get immature once in awhile. Stop looking over your shoulder, trying to act grown up all the time and perfect because people are waiting for you to slip up again.
Act like a child, let your hair down, maybe even dance with rejoice.
You are not alone, screw-up. We all are such a thing...yet only a few of us are human enough to say we are undeserving of grace, mercy, and we don't have it all together.
If you can admit that you're no good, that without Jesus you'd be a filthy piece of crap, that without grace you'd be burning and rotting in hell forever, that without the redeeming blood of Christ you would be the worst of the worst, low-down, dirty, worthless, useless, ...SCREW-UP, you've caught the idea of salvation.
Most people in the church would read that and say...What? You want me to believe I can't do anything?
Well church, that's just what I said.
Without Jesus, you are nothing.
If your church wants to try to win souls by acting like you're not a sinner and you haven't lied, cheated, and made a mess of your life before Jesus came and messed ya up even more...
good luck, but no beggar on the street wants a perfect messenger, they want someone just as dirty as them.
So take that letter off your chest, raise it like a flag to the heavens, and dance a little.

A New Year; Same Ole' Stuff.

New Years...probably one of the most interesting holidays to me. The fact that we all gather around celebrating and cheering on a new year that will contain the exact things the last year did...amuses me.
We all get out our skinny jeans and try to fit more than one leg into them.
We all set unrealistic goals...
decide that we are going to "change for the better" and become "a better me."
Fiddle sticks, people.
It's 2011, and like it or not, it will contain the same ole stuff as 2010.
You will jump off the treadmill and into your moo moo pants and lazy boy chair by march, be eating carbs and ice cream by april, and you still won't be keeping in contact with those old friends you swore you'd never forget by may.
Call me negative, call me blunt and tacky...
or call me what I am: realistic.
I am a lot of things, but I am by no means an idealist.
I do not represent things the way they ought to be, but rather the way they are already.
I am the ultimate realist.
If you tell me you want to do something stupid, I'll look at you and say, "that's stupid."
Some people call that bad manners, but I refuse to let people bounce around in imagination world their whole life, never taking responsibility for the the crap hole this world actually is.
So to all you idealist New Year's resolutionists...good luck, and you're totally overrated.
I don't need a number on a calendar to change.
All I need is to wake up one morning , eat my cheerios...and look down into the bowl and say..."welp, guess I'm going to change the world or something this year."
That will be it for me.
I make up my mind, and that's all it takes.
Me and my cheerios will start a revolution one day, mark my words.
That's all folks.