Walk in the Woods

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Journal: #122 When Faith Feels Like Death

Abraham’s story is the one we all want to live. We want to express our faith and devotion. In the back of our minds we believe “it’ll work out.” All I need to do is show up. Trust God. Everything will be ok. Except, this isn’t always the case.

I know how Abraham felt as he walked Isaac up the hill. In his hand was his promise from God, his beautiful sweet promise. The amazing aspect of this story is Abraham, promise in hand, was ready to sacrifice it. He was prepared to let go of his promise in obedience to the Father. The story in Genesis ends well, as the Lord provided a ram in thicket. God’s promise preserved.

Glory and Pain

Abraham’s story is the one we all want to live. We want to express our faith and devotion. In the back of our minds we believe “it’ll work out.” All I need to do is show up. Trust God. Everything will be ok. Except, this isn’t always the case.

Early this year I found an amazing woman. In her I saw compassion, empathy, creativity, and intelligence. She loves to learn and has an affinity for plants. I also saw her insecurity, perfectionist tendencies, and anxiety issues. For everything she was and was not, she had the look and feel of my promise. She was the woman I wanted.

As our relationship sunk, I prayed as much as I ever. I choose to love her and myself the best I could. In faith I believed our relationship would be saved, somehow. But, I prayed one prayer more than the others “Lord, Your will be done.” When she came to my apartment on that sunny afternoon in May, I knew what I had to do. I had to let her go. There would be no ram in the thicket for me.

Letting Go Hurts

In that moment I felt more like Jesus in the Garden* rather than Abraham on the hill. I saw the breakup train coming, I petitioned the Lord to stop it, but it ran me over nonetheless. I was gutted. Not my will, but Yours be done. My promise burned on the alter, and all I could do was cry and stand my ground. There would be no running from the pain this time.

Today, I wanted to text her. I wanted her to know I’m alive and I think about her.

In my head I have arguments in regard to what faith is in these moments. Is faith letting her go? Or is it “fighting for her?” Both have the appearance of wisdom and fear. So today, I choose not to text my former girlfriend. It is a move of faith, not fear. I don’t have to be perfect in my walk with Jesus. (At some point, she would need to choose me back. She would need to use her words to tell me exactly what she wants rather than passively fall into a relationship. Of note, she broke up with me, and has said or done nothing to contradict her decision.)

Acting on Faith

More than that, I’m making room for God to be God. I’ve created space for His hands to work, and I’ve still got my promise. My promise is to marry an amazing woman who loves Jesus and her quirky self. Most importantly, I await the woman who will love me for the rest of time. The former lady? It’s ok we didn’t work out. She’s still a wonderful person, and I don’t need reason to move forward.

It’s time. Today is one more step into my destiny.

*I find it fitting Jesus resisted the temptation to run from His destiny in a garden. Adam and Eve were in a garden too. In the garden they chose perfectionism, lust, and gratification. When faced with the same choices, Jesus choose death. He choose the death promised to Adam and Eve. He looked up at the train and stood His ground. Resurrection waited for Him on the the other side.

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Journal: #121 F*ck COVID-19

The COVID-19 outcome is murky at best. It could get worse, but I will pray for the best. Either way, I will stand on Him and in Him. I will wake up and invite Him to lead me. And, I will shine.

Back to the “New Normal”

Yesterday, California Governor Gavin Newsom announced a new round of  statewide COVID restrictions. My county, Shasta, was one of the many placed into the Purple Tier, the most restrictive. “Non-essential” businesses are to close, and those to remain up must do so under strict regulations. What is a non-essential business? Every business is essential to the owner, the employees, and the vendors in business with that business.

The bigger toll is the social/relational toll. Most people seem to understand the seriousness of COVID-19. We need to wear masks and keep socially distant for the sake of the hospitals. If they are overwhelmed, people will die. I get it, and I’m growing more fatigued under the strain of the moment. Today, on my morning walk, I ran into my friend Shari. She is a former nurse and her husband recently recovered from a serious bout with coronavirus. We stayed about ten feet apart as we talked about life in 2020. Then we said our goodbyes.

My Covidian Experience

It was a painful discussion with Shari. I’m a physically affectionate man, so I love a good hug. For obvious reasons, Shari and I did not exchange hugs today. I haven’t hugged someone since Friday. Feels like I’m starving. While I didn’t get the full COVID experience last spring, I am now.

It f-cking sucks.

Earlier this year, I was in a relationship with a physically affectionate woman. It was fantastic. We held hands, exchanged long hugs, and generally enjoyed being in contact with each other. It was everything I wanted. She was what I want. Until May, our relationship was a nice distraction from what the greater world was experiencing. I had this wonderful person in my life, and I enjoyed my community. The restrictions didn’t keep us from living our lives. We hung out in small groups, went on walks, and generally made the most it.

In retrospect, I think the quarantine affected her in ways I couldn’t relate to. In my mind it was temporary thing, a passing experience. She seemed to take it more seriously and worry about what the future held. I was just too happy to find someone I loved as much as her. (To give myself some credit, I had faith everything would be ok. No matter what.)

The New Battle

This is a snippet from the NY Times. From the last Presidential Debate.

This is a snippet from the NY Times. From the last Presidential Debate.

And now…I’m alone. I still have faith everything is going to be ok, but I’m sick of the masks, Zoom meetings, and travel restrictions. I’m sick of the online war, social media fights, and conspiracies. When Joe Biden said “we might be dealing with this into 2022,” I wanted to smash the TV. Like hell bro. I’m not wearing a mask into 2022, and I’ll be the first in line for a vaccine (I believe in science.) But, the biggest hurdle is working from home. With very few reasons to leave the house, I have to force myself outside.

Fortunately, I have friends reaching out to me. That’s good. Beyond that, I decided I’m not going to keep my head down and bemoan what I don’t have. I live a great life and serve a big God. He knows I need hugs and love. He knows I what I my heart needs, so I know I am prepared to live through this moment.

I don’t want to be a mere survivor. I want to thrive. I want to grow. So, I choose to proclaim God’s promises over my life and my house. This too shall pass. I was made for such a time as this, and I am more than a conquerer. My faith and life force doesn’t come from me, but the One who made me.

The COVID-19 outcome is murky at best. It could get worse, but I will pray for the best. Either way, I will stand on Him and in Him. When I wake up, I will invite Him to lead me.

And, I will shine.

Lord, empower the doctors, nurses, and all medical staff to treat the sick with wisdom and love. I demand and ask in faith for supernatural distribution of resources and vaccines. More than that, I ask for supernatural healings. To the sick currently in hospitals, I declare healing and miracles for your hearts and bodies. I command the hospitals of America to become testimonies to the love and kindness of God.

Amen.

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Journal: #120 Happy Birthday Momma

It wasn’t to be. None of it. They didn’t know their youngest daughter wanted something different for her life, and was willing to risk the known for the unknown. They couldn’t see how she was willing to try new things and explore new places.

It’s my mother’s birthday today. She was born sixty-four years ago in a small hospital in the rural town of Grove City, Pennsylvania. Her father wasn’t in the room or even in the building. 1956 was a different era, and thusly he waited for the news of my mother’s safe arrival from Aunt Red’s house down the street. Grandpa probably smoked cigarettes and drink coffee with one ear toward the phone, hoping for a boy.

At that moment, no one knew how much their world would change. In 1956, TV was the big new technology, Elvis Presley released his first hits, and America began to build its highway system. All the big movie stars, sports heroes, and musician were mostly white. Southern Blacks, either by fear or systemic repression, rarely voted. And women earned considerably less than men. Bill Gates and Steve Jobs were both in diapers, and Silicon Valley was just starting to rise.

Born To Be Who She Is

Born in the early morning, my infant mother was soon home with her sisters. It was a world of dolls, dresses, and routines. It was the world of a hard working blue collar family. Men did men things and women did women things. Her dad welded train cars during day, and operated a small farm on nights and weekends. My grandmother cooked, cleaned, mended and made clothes, rendered lard, baked everything imaginable, and did just about everything else worth doing for her family. It was a full time job no less demanding than the welding job my grandfather held.

I suspect my grandparents thought my mom, the youngest of six girls, would be like them. After or even perhaps during high school, my mom would find a nice hardworking boy and get married. I assume they thought she would live close, if not in town, maybe on a farm like their own. She’d have children, come over for Thanksgiving dinner, and help make rock candy before Christmas.

It wasn’t to be. None of it. They didn’t know their youngest daughter wanted something different for her life, and was willing to risk the known for the unknown. They couldn’t see how she was willing to try new things and explore new places. She met a boy alright, but nice is not how most people would describe him. Soon after they got married, she was off to Spain, then on to South Carolina, before settling in New York (and finally back to South Carolina.)

My mother was never dismissive of her parents, but is her own momma. It’s a real testimony to who my mother is. Whatever mistakes my grandparents made with my her, she used as fuel to be a different parent for me and my siblings.

The Best Gifts

Like anyone, my mom isn’t perfect, and made mistakes as a mother. My parents were young parents, farm kids trying to make on their own away from family. They didn’t know much about finances or going to college or southern culture. The greatest gifts my parents gave us are the best gifts any parent could give a child.

For my mother’s part, she is supportive, kind, and willing to listen. Sure, she bought me socks and underwear for Christmas every year for over a decade. Eventually, she stopped after I asked her to stop. Sweet and kind as she is, my mother is also a stubborn rock. She’ll quietly push her way to the front of the line, or be the type of persistent any customer service agent hates to encounter. Her kind stubborn nature enables her to be the mom her kids need whether we know it or not.

More than that, my mom is faithful and generous. She’s compassionate and loyal. And my God, she’s willing to learn, to grow, and be a better version of herself than she was last week. I love that about her. At almost 64 years old, that old farm girl is still learning new tricks and looking to make the world a better place.

Going Out On Top

When I recently asked her about what she wants to do in retirement she didn’t let me finish the sentence. I asked because I was worried she didn’t have a plan. I was worried she end up sitting at home to play sudoku on her iPad. I should’ve know better. For the next ten minutes she detailed her plans to feed the “olderly”, hold orphaned babies at the hospital, and volunteer in local food shelters (my mom is a damn Shakespeare clone, as she makes up new words everyday, old + elderly = olderly.)

That’s my mom. When other people are planning trips on cruise ships, she’s planning to love the forgotten and the unlovable. (Still, I hope she takes a trip or two. She’s deserves it.) She’s not gonna slow down or stop learning. God bless her.

Happy Birthday momma. You’re the rock of our family and you deserve the best. I love you so much, and I’m glad we are friends. I can’t wait for my future wife and kids to meet you.

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Daily Journal: #119 Coming Changes

I enjoy this website. It’s the one thing I look forward to everyday, and I look forward to building it into something people want to read. Thank you for reading thus far. I love ya.

Hey y’all.

I’ve got some changes coming to the website and my blog. I will continue to update the look of the site, and very soon will change the name. Nikcurfman.com is a fine name for a professional website, but that’s not really what this page is. A name change is coming as well as some aesthetic upgrades. I don’t love the colors or fonts, so expect those to change as well.

As for my blog(s):

I’m thinking of cutting down the number of journal entries from everyday to 3-4 posts per week, and they will be shorter labeled just “Journal”. I would like to post a “Daily Encouragement” which may be a single paragraph with a few scripture references. And, then I want to add 1-2 long blog posts per week to summarize what’s going on inside of me.

I want to continue to add drawings and paintings as well as continue to build out my Current Reading sections. All in good time.

I enjoy this website. It’s the one thing I look forward to everyday, and I look forward to building it into something people want to read. Thank you for reading thus far. I love ya.

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Abstraction: Storms And Gratitude

Let the rains come.

Shout for joy as it rages.

When people disown you. Thank the Lord for the sky.

When your body fails you. Thank the Lord for your life.

When all seems lost and they only thing left to do is stop trying to find it, raise your hands in praise.

You are loved beyond measure, and forever worthy.

The storm isn’t meant to rock your life.

It comes to water nourish your heart and water dreams.

The water they dump and the winds that cut, expose our rocks and weeds.

Beneath it all is good, dense, soil.

When the rain ceases and the thunder silent, look at the glowing promise riding the tail of last gray cloud.

Can you see it?

The rainbow of gratitude? With buckets of joy on either end?

You’ve got to look for it. Yes, even in the storm, and especially after. It is there.

Our forever promise from the Father:

We are loved.

We are blessed.

We are worthy.

Let the rains come.

Shout for joy as it rages.

When people disown you. Thank the Lord for the sky.

When your body fails you. Thank the Lord for your life.

When all seems lost and they only thing left is to stop trying to find it, raise your hands in praise.

You are loved beyond measure, and forever worthy.

Storms are temporary. His love is eternal.

Keep your eyes up and your heart open.

Be ready to receive. He’s always handing out blessings.

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Daily Journal: #118 Stuck Is A Lie

Each of us can overturn the tables on shame and self-condemnation. It will always start with being honest and using our faith to fight through it. Faith says “The Father knows what I’m facing, and He has a plan. Lord, be God in the place in my heart (or mind.) I do not believe Your will includes my failure.” The moment we make room for another possibility, we allow God to go to work.

I’ve been there, that hopeless feeling when I see the same sins creep into my routines. It’s present when the scale confirms my worst fear, when my bank account dips lower, and I spend another Friday night on the couch. I’m stuck living a life I hate. I am fat, broke, and alone. I always will be.

These are powerful thoughts to think, even though they are lies. That’s because these are no ordinary lies. There is a logic to them. I’ve battle my weight all of my life, rarely held onto extra dollars, and dated once every few years. There’s a pattern, one I seem unable to break. But…that’s not true.

What Is True

Patterns are a gift from the Lord. I believe that. They tell a story and shine a light on our flaws. It is the enemy who adds condemnation to your insecurity. When I face the same disappointments it is an indication of I have an area in need of my attention.

For nearly 40 years, I thought I was overweight because I was undisciplined, lazy, and impulsive. I could diet for a while, exercise, and focus on my sleep routine. Eventually, I’d fail. I’d fall off the tight rope. The pounds marched back through the door, and usually brought friends. Each extra pound was confirmation I’m stuck being fat.

But, that’s not true.

I wasn’t overweight because I’m lazy or undisciplined. I was overweight because I hated myself, and lacked self-worth. All of my motivation was focused on winning the approval of others. I didn’t have grace for my lapses or mistakes. Each piece of pizza was a symbol of my hopelessness.

Once I learned to love myself, I found the grace to enjoy life without condemnation. I spent an entire weekend in September eating and drinking foods I never eat or drink. When I got back to California, I didn’t sweat it even though I gain a pound or two on the trip. One pound did not turn into twenty.

Get Back to Healthy

My key to moving past my patterns is grace. The more I love myself, the more I am able to move through shame and sorrow. When I got from my trip to Alabama, I went right back to what is healthy for me: walks in the morning with Jesus, intermittent fasting, and a low carb diet. It took a week, but that pound melted off.

In my past, whenever I fell off my horse, I stayed down. I criticized myself for falling and refused to get back on the saddle. It seems silly now, but that’s the truth. I couldn’t handle failure, because failure meant I was unworthy and imperfect.

I am imperfect. I will fail. But, that’s ok. It doesn’t mean I’m unworthy. I am worthy because the Lord says I am. I am loved because I exist. I am amazing, and wonderfully made. These are the truths about Nik (and you.) I am stuck only when I choose to believe that lie. I am not my sins. I am not a loser.

It does not matter how many times I fall, I can get right back up. This week I’ve felt sad everyday, but I’m not stuck in sadness. I let myself feel the sorrow, then I go for a walk with Jesus. Lord, I’m here. I admit my sadness and why I’m sad. Then I let Him take it from me. Instead of spiraling into self-pity and depression, I laugh and the peace of God finds my heart.

I am not stuck.

Moving Through Stuck

Each of us can overturn the tables on shame and self-condemnation. It will always start with being honest and using our faith to fight through it. Faith says “The Father knows what I’m facing, and He has a plan. Lord, be God in the place in my heart (or mind.) I do not believe Your will includes my failure.” The moment we make room for another possibility, we allow God to go to work.

The next step is immediately go back to what we know is healthy for us. Healthy behavior includes expressing gratitude, exercising self-grace, and question the anxiety (What does the Lord say about me? What is the truth? What else is possible in this moment?) Go for a walk, drink some water, and listen to some worship. Do what it takes to treat yourself with love and kindness.

You’re worth it.

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Daily Journal: #117 Gratitude: Seed of Joy

Living from place of gratitude, a state of constantly saying “thank you Lord, this thing/person/place is f-cking awesome and I love it,” clears the path of instant gladness when we see Him move. It positions our hearts to look with anticipation for what He will do or say next. Then we are glad, joyful, and filled with calm delight when we see it. Because we know it’s Him. We instantly know the Great God of all Creation is moving and acting on behalf of His kids.

Joy was once an elusive mistress. I thought it was something I could touch but not have. I thought it was something weirdo Christians faked, or worse didn’t fake. I believed I was too head strong or proud. Something had to be wrong with me, because- whatever joy is- I didn’t have it.

Lies and Damn Lies

I stopped trying to understand why I (or anyone) believe lies. It’s unfortunate, but we all believe lies. They do what they are intended to do which is hold us back from Him. I can’t experience joy was a real belief I held, for a long time. It’s not logical, and yet I believed it. This deception held me back from enjoying life and the people around me.

Obviously, the first step to defeating a lie is to recognize it exists. The next step is to admit something else is possible. In my case, how I experience joy may not look it does for other people. The bigger point I want to make though is this. When I admit something else is possible I open the door for new possibilities to manifest. Life isn’t binary, a stream of black or white, yes or no questions. I don’t have to perfect in my faith, but I do need to use it.

The Gratitude Pattern

The woman I dated earlier this year was the best I’ve dated in my life. She was so much more to me than anyone else. It wasn’t close. I enjoyed who she was and being with here, for the sake of it.

Part of the reason I enjoyed her stemmed from my previous experience. I appreciated her quirks and creativity. I liked how she listened and her intelligence. I was grateful to be with her. When she came over to break up with me, I was sad and heart broken. In the same moment, I felt gratitude for the experience and her efforts. I knew she gave me everything she had, and it was time for the Lord to step in.

I thanked her for dating me. I did not enjoy the break up or the gut wrenching month that followed, but I’m still grateful to have dated such an amazing person. It is this gratitude going before me that allows me to receive joy now.

The Beginnings of Gratitude

Some time in 2017 I started a gratitude journal. Eventually I wrote out index cards and carried them around with me from apartment to apartment, Redding to San Francisco, and then back to Redding. Somewhere in 2018, I began thanking the Lord for the day every morning. And now I try to drive deep into thankfulness on my morning walks.

I forget how or why I started trying to be more grateful. My guess is I was depressed and read something on the internet about it. Most likely, I read an article years ago, way before 2017. Regardless, what started as a sort of ritual to avoid suicidal thoughts is now a living-giving practice.

My favorite aspect of gratitude is how alive it is. In all honesty, when I start talking to Jesus in the morning, I am usually distracted and half awake. My mind is blank, and I start with something as simple as the sky. “Lord, I’m thankful for the sky today.” Then I go on “I’m thankful for this path, and the trees changing color. I’m thankful for my parents and they way they love me….(and on and one.)” Once I start confessing my appreciate for the Lord’s blessings in my life, they become easier to spot and admit.

Gratitude is a form of praise and active engagement of appreciation. It’s a form of love. Whenever I say to the Holy Spirit, “thank you for the sky,” what I’m really saying is “this sky is f-cking amazing and love you for making it.”

Here Comes the Joy

The word most often used for Joy in the New Testament is the Greek word chara (silent c). It means gladness. When we read scripture joy is always the result of hearing or an action. It is the recognition of the Lord moving on our behalf when we know it could be different. It’s an involuntary response to the goodness of the God. (It’s why I was glad to date my now former girlfriend. I appreciated who she is. I wasn’t hung up on who she wasn’t.)

Gratitude plows our hearts in preparation of joy. Without it, we are doomed to feel empty and broken. Entitled people do not experience joy because they do not appreciate what they have. Judgmental people do not experience gladness because they are too busy looking for imperfections and flaws. Fearful people do not experience “calm delight” because they are too worried to appreciate anything good in their lives.

Living from place of gratitude, a state of constantly saying “thank you Lord, this thing/person/place is f-cking awesome and I love it,” clears the path of instant gladness when we see Him move. It positions our hearts to look with anticipation for what He will do or say next. Then we are glad, joyful, and filled with calm delight when we see it. Because we know it’s Him. We instantly know the Great God of all Creation is moving and acting on behalf of His kids.

Lord, thank you for loving me and my friends and family. Thank you for healing us and blessing us with far more than we need.

Amen.

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Daily Journal: #116 Back to the Start

I experience no shame for having fallen into an old pattern, on the contrary I am grateful it was exposed. I didn’t spend months or even years trying to fix myself. The distance between one step and the next shrunk as a result. I am moving forward without regret or humiliation.

I was just guessing at numbers and figures
Pulling your puzzles apart
Questions of science, science and progress
Do not speak as loud as my heart

Tell me you love me
Come back and haunt me
Oh, and I rush to the start
Running in circles, chasing our tails
Coming back as we are

The Scientist by Coldplay

This morning felt like I went back to the start with God, to my place of nakedness and honesty. It’s where I want to be. I want to stay in a place of hope and humility. I want to be bold in sharing my life with Him, and I want to listen in return. This is a real relationship, not a formula or duty.

Going Back to the Start?

What does it mean to back to the start? It means I stop trying to fix myself, and I am willing to sit like a child at His feet. It means I hand Him my fears and disappointment rather than hide them. Lately, instead of inviting the Lord in the difficult spaces of my life, I tried to become my own counselor. I tried to put myself on the couch and talk myself through the issues.

Lately, I’m frustrated with my actions. I’ve watched too much TV, painted too little, struggle to get my ten thousand steps in, and I’m not reading as much scripture as I was. I judge myself as having some sort of undefined issue in need of a remedy. Naturally, I hide. I don’t confess my sadness or anxiety. Then my heart starts to suffer as it feels heavy and sluggish. The more I deny the Lord His place in my heart, the stronger the pain grows and the accusations start to overwhelm my mind.

But let’s look at reality:

  1. I deny or refuse to admit what feelings and thoughts trouble me.

  2. Instead of going to the Doctor, I attempt to heal myself.

  3. I begin to look at external behavior for validation.

  4. External behavior will never soothe my heart or mind.

  5. I try harder or give up.

God Bless 2020

The pattern above was my way of life for most of walk with Jesus, but thank God for 2020. Yes, I spent the last month or so battling self-pity and tried to bury it. But, I also kept showing up to walk with the Lord. Sometimes it wasn’t pretty, and my mind focused on random thoughts or people. I don’t think the Lord cared. He loves my effort and my heart. He kept showing up too regardless of how I felt.

In the early morning today, I found my way back to the naked place before Him. In this Garden, no condemnation or self-hatred exists. I see clearly my growth in the Good Soil. I experience no shame for having fallen into an old pattern, on the contrary I am grateful it was exposed. I didn’t spend months or even years trying to fix myself. The distance between one step and the next shrunk as a result. I am moving forward without regret or humiliation.

Matthew 6:33 really is the Bread of life for 2020. Seek Him everyday. The rest of life will arrange itself. It’s a promise from Jesus, so it’s gotta be true. My testament to this promise is the increase of grace, love, and peace for and toward myself. The amazing side-effect is the more grace and love I find for myself, the more I find for others. It’s a self-watering tree of God-given glory.

Physical healings are great; however, the ability to overcome myself and my fears is a miracle too.

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Abstraction: Die Happy

The world is full of compromised purpose and the resulting self-hatred.

Don’t compromise yourself for someone else’s life.

Fight for yourself as He created you to be.

Go after the dreams He put in your heart.

Die happy.

A life worth living has battles worth fighting, and the satisfaction is in the winning.

The winning might not come in the form of a trophy or public recognition,

Maybe it’s a lesson, knowledge gained, or priceless experience.

Perhaps it’s in the doing, the risk of the choice, and the joy of knowing failure happens only when you quit.

Larger prizes await the brave, this is certain.

Love shared, hearts mended, and the bliss of eternal connection. The tangible realization we are never, ever, alone.

Further still, should we press on toward the more, which blesses others, we discover what it means to lead.

True leadership is when one soul carves through the rock to free the others.

It loves to the last breath,

Lives to believe in the Good beyond good, and the Holy beyond religion.

A life worth living is one worth wanting, and never being satisfied with anything else.

There is joy, love, and triumph on the other side of risk and failure.

You are worth your effort.

The world is full of compromised purpose and the resulting self-hatred.

Don’t compromise yourself for someone else’s life.

Fight for yourself as He created you to be.

Go after the dreams He put in your heart.

Die happy.

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Daily Journal: #115 Crying to Laugh

Yesterday, I was able to make it back to a centered place. I want to be who I am no matter what. I want to write and go for hikes no matter the result. I want to post blogs from now till I die, because I love doing it. I want to draw and paint because I like to draw and paint. And it’s easier for me to do all of it when I stop worrying about who watches or reads or is impressed.

In the aftermath of my breakup last May, I had a surplus of motivation. I found it easy to go for walks, eat my veggies, write blog posts, and paint. I had something to prove to someone. A small part of me wanted her to know she f-cked up. And…(more importantly) I wanted to prove to myself I was worth the effort. I wanted to love myself well. By my own standard, I did really well. I did not end up down in a pit of self-pity, and I battled shame like a boss. It was time to trust the Lord more than ever.

Overall, I did about as well as I could considering the mix of emotions, disappointment, and determination to face the pain.

God Knows

As each week passes, I feel the distance growing between me and May 31st. I’m so happy and thankful I decided to press into Jesus and walk ever closer with Him in the aftermath. It is the best decision I’ve ever made. The Lord was so kind and gracious. He knew my heart contained a combination of motivation, and He didn’t care. Purity of motivation isn’t a thing with the Lord.

A while ago (late September or early October), the Lord very distinctly told me to “stay close to Me, stay with Me.” I knew exactly what He meant. The coming months will test my motivation as life churns forward, and it has. I find it easy to perform if I think a crowd is watching, or I have someone to impress. However, the last few weeks, I know no one is watching. I know it’s about me and Him.

Walking and Crying

Last night I felt an undercurrent of anxiety, like something wasn’t quite right. To clear my head and heart I went for a late night stroll. When I got to the top of the hill I finally expressed a thought I’ve chased around my mind. I don’t want her to be the reason I do anything. I want to do what I do for me and You Lord. I tired of the small still existent desire for her to notice me.

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In truth my former girlfriend represents more than herself. She is now the representation of all the people I want to impress or win over. And I do not want to live my life trying to gain the approval of others. That’s the old Nik. That’s the Nik that hated himself, because he tried to fit into a box. (Again, this is not about her per se.)

I burst into tears as I confessed my deep fear. Far too long I’ve been motivated to fit in, and I can’t let it creep back into my life. What I do, where I go, I want to be, I want for me.

Laughter Is Good

As I turned to walk home, I felt relieved. I often forget to be honest with the Lord. (By honest I mean unfiltered. Sometimes I try to fix myself before I pray it out. I don’t have to do that.) I did not hear the Lord say anything amazing or earth-shattering. I did feel a great calm and joy settle over my being, and I began to laugh at myself- the way I complicate life. I question myself before I need to question myself. Thankfully, I am slowly letting go of self-judgment, and it’s still there.

God is so good to me. He listens and encourages me, and knows what’s coming. He knew I’d struggle a bit as I moved forward this year. He knew my motivations would shift and change. And His constant encouragement was and is “show up.”

Yesterday, I was able to make it back to a centered place. I want to be who I am no matter what. I want to write and go for hikes no matter the result. I want to post blogs from now till I die, because I love doing it. I want to draw and paint because I like to draw and paint. And it’s easier for me to do all of it when I stop worrying about who watches or reads or is impressed.

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Daily Journal: #114 That. Did not. Go. Well.

Oh…what’s the solution? Yeah. I’m not sure. Pray? Stay hopeful my sister will begin to understand how she hurts people? Stand my ground? I don’t know. What I do believe is I am doing my best. I agonized over enforcing my boundaries with her, but I knew I had to do it. If I give her an inch, she’ll take that mile. Then, I’ve got a bigger problem.

My sister and I do not get along well. This was not always the case. We were rivals into high school, then we became best friends for a few years. She bought me clothes from J Crew, and we took ski trips to West Virginia. I’d sneak into bars in Five Points just to have a beer with her. Then I moved away to go to college. Within a few weeks she started dating a man (the first of many douches), and that was that.

Our relationship began to deteriorate the very day I moved away, though none of us knew it. And as I said at the start of this post, our relationship is an ornery shadow of what it was. I think we both hold onto to what was. We hope for some kind of revival, and I’m not sure it’s possible.

What’s the Issue?

My sister and I couldn’t be more different than we are. She’s loud, lacks self-awareness, and loves being the center of attention. She dives into whatever she deems worthy of her time and effort. And, she is the quintessential evangelist/salesperson. I can be loud, but I prefer small interpersonal interactions. I’m constantly aware of myself- too aware. I loath sales and could careless about being an evangelist.

More than personality differences, we stand on opposite sides of what it means to love the person across from you. I believe in boundaries, honor, and apologies. My sister, at least from her words and actions, does not believe in such behavior. She is the only person in my life I must remind of the boundaries. The. Only. One.

The Cycle

For the last ten years, my sister and I have engaged in a consistent pattern of behavior. It usually goes something like this:

Pleasant conversation - > boundary violation - > reinforcement of boundary - > disagreement/argument - > long silence - > Pleasant conversation….

This last blow up was, by our standards, mild. We didn’t cuss each other out or lob verbal grenades at each other. We simply disagreed on what respect and honor look like. And now we are onto another period of long silence. At this point, I’m ok with it. Most of our conversations revolve around her life and whatever crisis she is in. I’m not missing much. “Oh really? Your life sucks? Aw. (Repeat.)”

I rarely tell her about my life, and at this point I don’t care what she knows. When I get married, I doubt I’ll invite her. Why would I? Obligation is not my thing. When I get married, I want to have a party with people who have my back and truly love me. I don’t want to spend one second wondering if a guest is going to act like a fool.

What’s The Solution

Yesterday I prayed my frustrations to the Lord, “Lord, I don’t care if we ever get along.” This was, of course, a lie. I was hurt, because deep in my heart I absolutely want a healthy relationship with my sister. I don’t see how it’s possible. I want to give up on her. It feels hopeless.

The Lord challenged me, “Stop saying you don’t care about your sister when you know you do.” Ok, God. Good point. But, I feel like shit. If I am a good person, shouldn’t I have a good relationship with my sister? Make all the right relationship choices with each person I know?

Yeah…this is a lot bigger than a brother/sister relationship.

As the argument ensued with my sister, I heard the voices, “You say you love people, but look how you treat your sister.” So I argued back, “I will not violate myself for my sister, a relationship with her should not mean I have to live in fear of her wrath. I shouldn’t have to listen to her complain and belittle other people.”

I know I’m right. I know people who have and maintain boundaries often look selfish to people without them. They can’t understand limits. After all, doesn’t love “hope all things, believe all things, etc?” Yes it does. And because love hopes and believes, it knows healthy boundaries are real, not control.

Oh…what’s the solution? Yeah. I’m not sure. Pray? Stay hopeful my sister will begin to understand how she hurts people? Stand my ground? I don’t know. What I do believe is I am doing my best. I agonized over enforcing my boundaries with her, but I knew I had to do it. If I give her an inch, she’ll take that mile. Then, I’ve got a bigger problem.

My Prayer

Lord, I believe You have a path for anyone willing to walk and climb and never give up. So, I don’t know how, but I believe a healthy relationship with my sister is possible. Show me my error, how I can love her more. But also, how do I love and honor myself.

I trust You Jesus. Thank you.

Amen.

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Daily Journal: #113 Long Fruitful Day, Short on Words

I’m not sure how many emotional bounces I took today, but even for me it was a lot. I laughed, cried, and prayed. I let go of fears and desires while I made room for God to be God. It was a full day. Tomorrow, I will write more about being imperfect. For tonight, I’m going to stay in my current place of gratitude and honesty.

Today was a seesaw day of emotional ups and downs. I was down because I had another confrontation with my sister, then up because I did well at work. Then back down after a friend asked if I wanted some BBQ from Odell Craft BBQ (I was once a partner in the business), only to find myself lighter in heart and mind after an evening with old friends (as old as I’ve got in Redding.) I got to text my oldest nephew a bit, only to fight sorrow as I drove past the park where I once met my former girlfriend for morning walks.

I’m not sure how many emotional bounces I took today, but even for me it was a lot. I laughed, cried, and prayed. I let go of fears and desires while I made room for God to be God. It was a full day. Tomorrow, I will write more about being imperfect. For tonight, I’m going to stay in my current place of gratitude and honesty.

I love this part of me. I’m tired of hiding, and trying to make the right decisions. I’m ok, and I will be ok. Life isn’t easy, but it is fun and amazing. Thank God.

One last thing, my friends- a group we call the Four Horsemen- are the best no-name Jesus lovers in the world. And we have the maturity of children.

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