Behind Me

All I remember is your face. When you looked at me in non-belief.
Disgust curved your lip and hurt sat upon your brow.
I had never seen this face before and I was taken back. I had hurt you.
And you allowed for me to know that.
You rarely allowed me to know your feelings, but what I had said had hurt you greatly and I could see that plainly.

I don't even remember what I had said. Usually, I have a really great memory, but I can't even remember. I barely remember the issue that had taken place.

I do remember the emotion.
Rejected.
And how it had dominated most of our relationship.
I was so wrapped up in unhealthy rejection issues and you seemed so very prideful and insensitive.
I wanted some kind of emotion from you. So I said something with the intent of hurting you.
I didn't think it would hurt you, because you seemed to dodge hurt.
And in the few years I had known you, I had never seen you hurt.

But I saw this. I saw your face. I heard your response.
I remember what your response was and how it frustratingly and painfully streamed out of your mouth.
I remember feeling like I had just slapped you verbally and thinking how could I have done this.
I just wanted acceptance. Unconditionally.

We didn't stop being friends and you forgave me. I hope.
And to this day, you still accept me.

I made a decision to change.
Made a decision to pursue the Lord and surrender my heart.

Now
I don't even recognize who I was then.
I was living in a world called rejection.
Looking back on this situation(which) is one of several and with several friends(unfortunately), I think of how icky that was and what a waste of MY time it was.
The enemy delights in distracting us. I would know. 
Instead of crying over some other's acceptance of me, I could have been doing so many more things.
Like... building new relationships, reading books, accomplishing goals, spending time with the Lord, or blogging, etc. etc. etc.

Even though I am not proud of those scenarios.
I am grateful for them.
I was in a place where emotions and responses looked like a Jenga tower.
Very unstable and built on a small foundation.
But I could not be where I am today without experiencing those rounds of Jenga.

I needed the Lord, I needed firm foundation, and I needed to know who I was.
He took my ashes and gave me double portion.
He threw away that Jenga tower and gave me a foundation made out of truth.

Praise the Lord

I am not who I was in those yesterdays.
He has delivered me.
He has lifted me up.
He has healed my heart and called me accepted and whole.
Where there was pain, He has taken it away and replaced with joy.
I'm a new creation, constantly morphing into more and more newness.
My thought life is healthier, freer, happier, wiser.
All because of my sweet Jesus.
He is constantly redefining my thoughts.
There are still old emotions and thoughts that try to come back.
But I know who I am and I know where I'm going.

There's no going back to old ways. I have left those behind.
I will persevere into the future and into what the Lord holds for me with faith.

It's a new season, yall.



This story is for someone. Take it. Trust Him.

A Glimpse of Hope

1st of All. I am wide awake and it's 3:40 in the morning... this is probably due to a few things.

1. That 3 hour nap I had when I got home from work.
2. The 3 cups of sweet tea I drank after my nap...
3. And the online-window-shopping/facebook stalking/vine watching

So here I am. Awake. Thinking. Writing. Hoping.

I was thinking about what hope looks like for different people.

 And of course, it has different meanings for everyone.

For Me

Hope, as a verb, is a very powerful thing. It means that you are actively choosing to stay positive despite circumstances. 

Hope, as a noun, is a desire. A desire in which you hold on to. One which will not be given up easily.

Verb.

Hope is believing for really good things despite any bad thing you may receive.

Hope is believing in even more of the really good things even when you have already received so much of the Lord's goodness.

Hope is never giving up.

Hope is moving forward.

Hope is trusting.

Noun.

Hope is the essence of trust, and trust is the essence of hope.

Hope is a declaration of trust unto the Lord.

Hope is positive feelings and ideas.

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. 

- Jeremiah 29:11

HOPE YOUR HEART OUT!

Dear Diary

Get a blog, I said.

You'll enjoy it, I said.

You'll probably write blogs daily, I thought.

The truth is, I do way more blogging while driving in my car than I would ever dream of typing out... I guess you could also call that your inner dialogue. 

It seems that the "go button" for all this internal-word-creativity is when I'm in my car driving to work, going to the grocery store, or getting a cheese roll-up from Taco Bell.

And it also seems that my inner dialogue is full of ideas, teachings, wise words, and I just want to share, share, SHARE! 

And then I have a brief encounter with 3 years worth of psychology teachings, which I accrued for my Ah Ha Psychology Degree, ... and they state things like... "Lacey, you are definitely under false consensus effect! Your thoughts and ideas are no better than anyone else's, so girl, don't waste your time."

But then... I have an encounter with the Holy Spirit... 

And He tells me just the opposite. Share. Be vulnerable. Release thoughts and ideas through type. 

I realize that he heavily influences and gave me those wise words, those mini revelations that I have on my short drives to work. And even though yes, my words, thoughts, opinions are no better than anyone else's... they are mine. And to me, that is so sweet. 

So I want to begin to share them via interwebs, and no this is not a commitment for a daily post, but more of a post-it-when-I-feel-it-and-don't-put-it-off kinda commitment(this is looking half-a'd already)... well, definitely more than once a year.

And sometimes, I'll just old-school kick it and tell you about my day. I mean.... it's like reading my 5th grade journal.

Let's do that 5th grade journal.

Viewer's Discretion: I work with people who have mental disorders, but are higher functioning than someone who has an intellectual disability. Most of my clients' mental disorders, such as schizophrenia have stemmed from years of drug and alcohol abuse. 

Most of their behavior problems are just that... behavioral problems.

Dear Diary,

          Somedays I hate my job, and somedays I like it a lot. I hated it today. 

One of my clients constantly yells at me. She is mentally unwell. But also, her attitude just straight up sucks. I took her to the doctor today because she requested it. Diary, understand that she only wants to go to the doctor to try to get pain meds, so when he refused, naturally she began yelling, yelling, YELLING, at everyone... nurses, the doctor, me, the new moms with their newborns. 

This enraged me... her yelling like this AROUND BABIES. I wanted to punch her in the mouth, and in the throat, simultaneously so she would SHUT UP. 

I had to keep cool. So I had to be mean mom. I had to threaten with things like, "I'm not going to drive you home if you keep yelling at me"... which is the equivalent of "If you keep yelling, no TV when we get home."

She finally quit yelling. But GAH DANG her attitude sucks. I just ignored her snide and nonsensical comments the whole way back to her home. It's like, I feel bad for this woman, even though she sucks.

Diary, I cannot let myself get as upset as I got today. I think it was something maternal that snapped. She was yelling, there was a newborn.... guess it makes sense. 

Also, I am not superwoman... after a day like today I just wanted for my love languages to be met. 

And they weren't... 

Touch is my numero uno love language. At about 4PM, I came to the realization that I hadn't been touched all day. I could tell. 

It seems like my days are not as pleasant when I haven't had a good dosing of Love Language. Touch being 1st, Quality Time being 2nd, and Gifts being 3rd.

I think when you feel loved, you're healthier, stronger, more confident.

What makes things complicated is that I'm not married.... and Diary trust me, you'd know if I was married because I would've told you! 

Every little detail of my wedding day  :)

I'm not even saying that my husband will be like Jesus and will always know when I need a hug, a kiss, to be held, a back scratch, or face pat...etc.

But I am saying that my opinion is... marriage makes touching less complicated, and more shareable.

I believe that the Lord is teaching me something here. It's just so difficult sometimes because I'm all like "Daddy just come to me in human form and hug me!"
I am not beating myself up here, but I know that the love and comfort of Holy Spirit are truly better than any hug, but I also know that I am not above a hug and always welcome them.... it's this weird balance of knowing, and wanting. Revelation soon to come. I am believing for that!

Today, I needed a really long long long hug. Today, I missed my mom. 

I'm 24, and I really wanted my mom today. My psychology teachings are telling me that I am in distress and am looking for trustworthy comfort. Mommy.

Diary, I love my mom. She is such a good mom. She still scratches my head when I go home(which may seem weird, but it's not).
She always encourages me in times of distress.
She's a keeper.

I hope tomorrow is better.
I pray that it is.
I pray that all the heartache that I live through today and in the yesterdays is redeemed by tomorrows.

Diary, I look forward to sweet snuggles and hugs in the future.
 I hope that all of my mom skills are being fine tuned right now.
And that my future family will snuggle all the the live long day!