I learned how to snow ski when I was three years old, yet one of my first memories is from first grade. I was taking private lessons all week with a ski instructor who held my hand getting on and off the lift and anytime I was scared. I felt secure, peaceful, and safe skiing with him. I knew that someone was there should I fall or skid on ice or get eaten by a snow monster. We skied together from Monday until Thursday, but when I got there on Friday, he wasn't there. Apparently, even ski instructors take days off and I had a new instructor, and she WOULD NOT HOLD MY HAND. So I cried, and I was petrified. I felt abandoned, alone, and like at any moment I would fall off the mountain. (I have an irrational fear of hills because I am afraid I will just fall off of them. For instance, I am terrified of the city of San Francisco because of the hills that I may fall off of.) I did not trust her, but more than that, I did not trust myself or my ability to ski. I needed someone to hold me because I could not do it myself. I still feel that way, often in fact, and find that I cannot do it by myself, I need someone to hold my hand. Someone I can trust to hold me up. 

Many months ago, when this "season" of my life began, my counselor urged me to get the book "Jesus Calling" because I needed to, and still need to, just learn and rest in who Jesus is, not strive to learn and earn my "Bible Gold Stars". She just wanted me to re-learn what I know about Jesus, and keep reading it until I believed it. Because I am ridiculous and was in a bit of shock for many months there, I did not purchase the book until about a month ago. I have been reading a few pages a night, reading some pages for many nights, and just trying to remember who Jesus is. 

On March 24th, the entry began like this "This is a time in your life where you must learn to let go: of loved ones, possessions, of control." Oh crap, I thought, now I have to strive to try to give up control (?!?!?!), this is terrible. Things are already ridiculous and now I am having to actively try to give up control and possessions? Blah!!!! 

However, the entry goes on to discuss that releasing control is not as difficult as it sounds when you fully understand and trust the character of who you give control to. Jesus is trustworthy. He is the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow. 

The last few sentences reads that "The One who never leaves you is the One who never changes...as you release more and more things into My care, remember that I never let go of your hand."

He always holds my hand. He will always catch me when I fall, if I slip, when I cannot hold myself up. He is trustworthy and good and safe. He will hold my hand when everyone else has let go, and hold it when everyone else is holding it. He will forever be with me and for me and that is exactly what I needed to read. 

Tomorrow is my 28th birthday. I feel old.

Now, I fully realize that I am not that old, however, I have lived a lot of life in my twenty-eight years. A Lot. I was thinking on my way home from work today that I have really lived a lot of life in the past year (which contributes to my old lady feeling and the fact that I am looking tore up lately). I have lived through my parents' divorce, my parents both getting remarried, the death of my unborn sister, death of both grandpas and one grandmother, an eating disorder and stint in treatment, moving to another country, moving back from another country, a cancer scare, a career switch, and recently, some issues in my personal relationships. I have been a lifeguard, a nanny, a swim instructor, a teacher, and an A.B.A. therapist. I have had my heart broken twice, I have been in love, I have been dumped, I have dumped. I have run marathons, I have climbed mountains, I have skied, I have worked at a summer camp. I have had my nose peirced, I have had short and long hair, blond hair, dark brown hair and all shades in between. I have fallen into a cactus.  I have owned a dog and cat. I have given those animals away. I have forgiven and been forgiven. I have taught myself to sew and crochet, and given it up when I realized I was terrible at it (the crochetting part). I have learned Spanish and French. I have eaten fish brain and cow tongue. I have jumped off cliffs in the wilderness of Honduras, and performed rap songs in the desert of Mexico. I have seen sea turtles up close in Hawaii and walked the freedom trail in Boston. I have cut my finger off, stepped on a nail, and had a car accident. I have ridden a horse through the Arizona desert and milked a cow. I have been chased by a bull (true story, happened on the side of the road in Honduras, and it was scary). I have danced on table tops, sang Karaoke, fallen in love with my nephews, and seen restoration of friendships.

And all of that just skims the surface. These twenty-eight years have held many tears and much heartache. There are days when I just want one of those lives where the people just skate by. You know those people, they go to great college, get married to a nice guy, get pregnant the day they start trying, have a super fun job, and then grow old with children who love them and want to be with them. Sometimes I want that.

But I would not want to give up what I have learned to cling to in my lifetime. I would not give up knowing that I can be living in my worst nightmare and having the Lord hold me. I would not give up seeing my family restored as an indirect result of my anorexia. I would not give up having men and women who love me and love God well come to my aid when I needed them. I would not know these truths so deeply had these past twenty eight years been easy.

Because in this life I have seen moments of pure hell. I have wept at my own sin and the sin of others, and felt so alone at times. But I never was.  I have seen terrible things, but God was always there. And He will be there, and I will never have to wonder if He will show up because I have seen Him prove Himself time and time again.

Because He is faithful.

I would be lying if I said that I hope my next twenty-eight years will be like the first, but I do hope that God continues to show Himself to me in powerful ways. My hope for my next 28 years is to finally believe that I am fearfully and wonderfully made, to finally see that I am beautiful, loved, and worthy, and to learn to love others and love God better. (I would also like to go to Australia, ride in a hot-air balloon, and adopt a child).

Happy Birthday to me.

This past Tuesday night I was with a group of women, and they decided to pray over me and ask God what He would want to say to me. The leader called me earlier in the day and asked if this was okay with me, and I was eager to participate, but nervous because I was exhausted and didn't want to miss out on anything because my body and mind were exhausted. 

I heard many truths from God that evening, that He was proud of me, He loved me, I was the apple of His eye, His joy. That He is my redeemer, He redeems, and He is working. That this battle is not mine to fight, but His. He wants me to keep dreaming, keep working towards the future. But, one word was evident through it all.

Hope. 

There is hope for me. For my life. He is my hope. I can hope in Christ, move forward and know that He is for me and He will not let me fall. 

Psalms 9:18
But the needy will not always be forgotten, nor the hope of the afflicted ever perish. 

Psalms 31:24
Be strong and take heart, all you who hope in the Lord.

Psalms 33:18
But the eyes of the Lord are on those who fear him, on those whose hope is in his unfailing love,

Psalms 71:5
For you have been my hope, O Sovereign Lord, my confidence since my youth. 

Hope, like the gleaming taper's light,

Adorns and cheers our way;

And still, as darker grows the night,

Emits a brighter ray.

OLIVER GOLDSMITH, The Captivity

Three years ago I got a seriously awful stomach virus (thank you, students) and had to go to the emergency room around ten at night. I was sitting in the waiting room and in so much pain and I remember rocking back and forth and saying "I don't think I can make it". Yeah, the stomach flu, I know. But, the waiting was made so much worse because I didn't know how long it would be before I could get help, before the medicine would work, before relief would come. Sweet, sweet relief. It finally came, of course, but gosh, that twenty minutes in the waiting room was rough (go ahead, mock me, I know I am a baby).

So, waiting. Not my favorite thing. At all. I do not like to wait. Especially when relief is nowhere in sight.

Right now, I am fighting the waiting because I am in immense pain. I am hurting, scared, lonely, angry, and sorrowful. And it is all I can do not to yell out "I QUIT! I WILL WAIT NO LONGER!", followed by a long string of expletives and foot stomping. 

I want deliverance. I desire deliverance from this hurt, but I have chosen to wait. I am waiting, sometimes for a person, but mostly for God to work. My prayer has been that He will prepare my heart for what He is working. My cry has been that this will all be over soon. 

He is answering my prayer. He is not, however, answering it by means of immediate deliverance. He spoke to me this week in a plethora of ways to wait. To stay where I am, rest in Him, and trust that He is working. It is awfully prideful of me to think that I should decide what will happen. It is, after all, human nature to want to be God, but what we desire often is just to stop the hurting, not to learn from it. I often think if I could just stop the pain, then things would be better, but what I really desire is more of Jesus, and that is painful at times. But what I have seen and learned is that I cannot possibly plan what God will do through my pain. After all, I would have never chosen to have anorexia or spend time in a treatment center, but God did plan that for me, and in that pain, my family was reunited and large wounds were healed. I would have never chosen to have a man break my heart at the age of 21, but God planned it, and through it brought me to the Village church and to many wonderful people to live this life with. I would have never chosen for my dream of living in Honduras to be put on hold, but I would not have given back the time I have gotten to spend with my nephews because I am here in Texas. You see, God works, and His story for us often means we wait on Him. Even in the extreme pain, extreme heartache, and extreme fear of the future. But, God's work is always beautiful and sweet in the end result. He is good and His plan for me is beautiful, though it may not look like it now. So, for now I sleep in my half-empty bed, waiting to see the end result of God's mighty hand, and through my tears and pain, and sometimes in my anger, I am anxious to arrive at the end result. Because, although I cannot see it now, God is working, He is moving, His hand is guarding me and His plans are unfolding. So, even though I yearn to scream and punch and kick, I will wait on Him, out of love, out of faith, and out of pure curiosity to see the outcome of His workings. Because I know He is good, and as a friend reminded me this week, even though we want out, the end result of waiting is often sweeter than our immediate out. 

The folly of not waiting for God is that we forfeit the blessing of having God work for us. - John Piper

Okay, so it's New Year's Eve, and...

So, to capitalize on this surely fleeting feeling, I will now list my New Year's resolutions and things I hope to accomplish in 2012.

1. I resolve to take my vitamins and supplements everyday. Okay, let's be realistic here, at least 5 days a week. I forget.

2. I resolve to fix my hair at least two times a week. This means blow-dry, curl, or straighten, not just put in a ponytail.

3. I resolve to drink more water. Oh, who am I kidding? I won't do this. Delete, delete.

4. I resolve to air up my tires and ride my bike every so often. Vague timeline, huh? Every so often...

5. I resolve to at least begin the process of going back to school to get my Master's in Counseling, Play Therapy, or Awesomeness. 

6. I resolve to read "Little Women" and "Emma". Because I like these books and I have not read them in quite sometime. Plus they are free for my Kindle.

7. I resolve to write more in my journal. Because as painful as these times are, I know one day I will want to remember them, even if it is only to write my tell-all book that will make me rich. Or just to see what God did, either one. 

8. I resolve to dance more.

9. I resolve to wear sunglasses on a more regular basis in order to protect my eyes and prevent wrinkles. 

10. I resolve to attempt to speak kind words and in a kind tone to others. Especially when frustrated. Usually I can speak kindly unless I am frustrated, then it all hits the fan.

My hope and prayer for the next year is that I will learn to trust that God really does love me and that my heart will finally begin to believe that God is not out to punish me or test me or make sure I measure up before things go right. My hope is that I continue to see growth in the area of eating and exercise, as well as a continual commitment to recovery. My hope is that I get to spend time with my nephews and see them grow, that they learn even more of the things of God in 2012. My prayer is that the city of Danli, Honduras will continue to be reached with the gospel and that Ruth and Arturo will be blessed immensely. My hope is that friendships will deepen this year. My prayer is for restoration, reconciliation, and a healing in whatever capacity God sees fit, and that my heart will remain patient with Him as I wait on His timing. My hope is that I get to spend more time with my sisters and brother and that the work God has done in those relationships this year will continue to flourish and grow. 

So, I hope for 2012 because I cannot give up hope. I have hope not in my circumstances, or my money, or my church, or my family, but in God. God is always good and I am always loved and He is my hope. 

I am sitting upstairs at my mom's house, waiting on family to arrive so we can begin Christmas Eve shenanigans. Things are not how they should be, however. Someone is missing. There is one less stocking hung up, one less face around, one less person to play games with. 

This Christmas season has been a huge reminder to me that things are not how they should be. And it's not just in my life, it's in this world. This world is not how it should be. Right now, there are people alone, without family or friends. Right now there is store clerk being yelled at because of someone's greed. Right now, children are hungry, war is raging, families are torn apart. Right now, this world is broken. It is not how it should be. 

But, in the midst of all this trauma, we are celebrating that God knew this is not how it should be. And tomorrow, we will celebrate the birth of Jesus. Who came to earth to fix it. To make it how it should be. And, although Jesus was born, was crucified, and has ascended, He is still working. He is still making things right and His work is not done. And this is what Christmas means to me. That God saw this nasty, sinful creation and sent His Son. For you, for me, ultimately for His glory. 

As the words of my favorite Christmas song read, "O Come, let us adore Him. Christ, the Lord".

May tomorrow be a rich time of enjoying family, friends, and this season, and may we celebrate the continuing work of God in our world.

Merry Christmas. Feliz Navidad. Joyeux Noël. Boldog Karácsonyt. (That last one, it's Hungarian. I learned how to say it from one of my students this week.)

Oh, come, all ye faithful, 
Joyful and triumphant!
Oh, come ye, oh, come ye to Bethlehem;
Come and behold him
Born the king of angels:
Oh, come, let us adore him, 
Oh, come, let us adore him,
Oh, come, let us adore him,
Christ the Lord.

In June 2010, my family came to visit us in Honduras and we drove to the beach. We didn't have a map, or any estimate of how long it would take us to reach our destination. We only knew what city we were headed to and what road to take to get there. And it took FOREVER. And in that drive, there were moments where I wondered if Honduras even had a beach and how could it be possible that we had driven for eight hours and not gotten there yet. There was a moment where I wondered if we would ever make it.

Have you ever been hiking and you are climbing and climbing and you reach a spot where it just seems like you will never ever get there? You have been going forever, waiting forever, to reach the top, to have clarity, and you are just exhausted. You keep wondering "When will I arrive, when will I finally see the end of this?"

I have been hiking to the summit since July. I was talking with my counselor today about my depression and the trauma of my life in the past few months, and she said that she has been consistently hearing one phrase exit my mouth through it all.

"I just want this to be over". 

These seven words are deeper than they appear. They don't just mean what they say. They also mean "I just want to know what's going to happen", "I just want to know how this ends", "I just want to move on with life", "I just want to know that I am going to be okay".

Deep in my heart, they really mean "I just want to know that I am going to make it."

Because sometimes I just don't know that.

I had a wonderful time with old friends and new this evening, laughing, sharing, and having fun. Yet, I drove home knowing that tomorrow I will wake up in the same nightmare as every other day. I will wake up and feel stuck. I will wake up and be ready for this to be over. I will wake up and have to fight my eating disorder, fight my fears, fight for joy. 

I am in that spot. I am in that part in the hike where I am just so freaking tired of it all, and I don't know if I will ever make it. I just want to know where the road leads. What will the answer be? What's going to happen? When will I get a new start? What does that new start look like? And the list goes on and on...

I was reminded this morning that often, on our way back down the mountain, we pass the spot where we had a total freak out about making it, and it's really not that far from the top. We were close, we found the summit, we found clarity, we found answers. 

We made it. 

So, everyday, I get up, I cry a little, I move on with life. I carry this 50-lb backpack up the mountain, a little further, but yet not all the way up. But one day it will be over. One day, I will have clarity. I will move on. 

It will be over one day. And I will be able to look back on today, when I was not sure if I would even make it, or if I could hold on, and I will remember that with God's grace and guidance, and in His perfect timing, I had my answer.

I will look back and know, with full certainty, that I made it. Whatever it is. 

I can describe myself in many ways. I can tell you what I like (running, pretzels, the color yellow), I can tell you what I don't like (rum, spicy food and sand in my shoes). I can tell you when I was born, how many brothers and sisters I have.  My identity can be found in my classroom, or at my home, or in church, or with friends.  I am a daughter, wife, sister, aunt, teacher, friend. I am also an addict, a sinner, and a punk.

Recently, things in my identity have begun to change a bit, and I find myself in a place where I am not quite sure where I go. I mean, literally, what do you do with me? 

I went back to church today. Back to the church I call home and have called home for almost seven years. It was good. It was hard. It was scary. My good friend, Kelly, came to the 11:15 (i know, cardinal sin at The Village, going to the 11:15) instead of her usual service because God told her to love on me and that I would need someone to sit by. And I did. 

God saw my need and met it. And today's sermon was providential for me as well. God came for me in a powerful way when Josh was speaking on who I am in Christ Jesus. That I am a daughter of the one true God. Nothing more, Nothing less. He is for me. He values me. I matter to Him. I am a bearer of His image. 

Here's what God spoke to my heart today. Here's truth:

1.      In Christ, I am … the salt of the earth (Matt 5:13)

2.      In Christ, I am … the light of the world (Matt 5:14)

3.      In Christ, I am … a child of God (Jn 1:12)

4.      In Christ, I am … part of the true vine, a channel of Christ’s life (Jn 15)

5.      In Christ, I am … a friend of God (Jn 15:15)

6.      In Christ, I am … chosen and appointed to bear fruit (Jn 15:16)

7.      In Christ, I am … resurrected to new life (Rom 6:5)

8.      In Christ, I am … a slave of righteousness (Rom 6:18)

9.      In Christ, I am … enslaved to God (Rom 6:22)

10.  In Christ, I am … a son of God (Rom 8:14)

11.  In Christ, I am … a joint heir with Christ, sharing his inheritance (Rom 8:17)

12.  In Christ, I am … the dwelling place of God (1 Cor 6:19)

13.  In Christ, I am … united to the Lord (1 Cor 6:19)

14.  In Christ, I am … a member of Christ’s body (1 Cor 12:27)

15.  In Christ, I am … what I am, by God’s grace (1 Cor 15:10)

16.  In Christ, I am … a new creation (2 Cor 5:17)

17.  In Christ, I am … reconciled to God (2 Cor 5:18-19)

18.  In Christ, I am … the seed of Abraham (Gal 3:29)

19.  In Christ, I am … a saint (Eph 1:1)

20.  In Christ, I am … an heir of God since I am a son of God (Gal 4:6-7)

21.  In Christ, I am … blessed with every spiritual blessing (Eph 1:3)

22.  In Christ, I am … God’s workmanship, made to do good works (Eph 2:10)

23.  In Christ, I am … a fellow citizen of God’s family (Eph 2:11)

24.  In Christ, I am … a prisoner of Christ (Eph 4:1)

25.  In Christ, I am … righteous and holy (Eph 4:24)

26.  In Christ, I am … a citizen of Heaven (Phil 3:20)

27.  In Christ, I am … hidden with Christ in God (Col 3:3)

28.  In Christ, I am … an expression of the life of Christ (Col 3:4)

29.  In Christ, I am … I am chosen of God, holy and dearly loved (Col 3:12)

30.  In Christ, I am … a child of light and not of darkness (1 Thess 5:5)

31.  In Christ, I am … an heir to eternal life (Tit 3:7)

32.  In Christ, I am … a holy partaker of a heavenly calling (Heb 3:1)

33.  In Christ, I am … one of God’s living stones (1 Pet 2:5)

34.  In Christ, I am … a member of a chosen race, a holy nation (1 Pet 2:9)

35.  In Christ, I am … a priest (1 Pet 2:9-10)

36.  In Christ, I am … an alien and stranger to the world I live in (1 Pet 2:11)

37.  In Christ, I am … an enemy of the Devil (1 Pet 5:8)

38.  In Christ, I am … born of God and the Devil cannot touch me (1 Jn 5:18)

39.  In Christ, I am … participating in the divine nature (2 Pet 1:3)

(The above statements are courtesy of Josh Patterson, and not my own)

I, Kacy Neinast, am chosen of God, holy, and dearly loved. Dearly loved, by God, who made the mountains and the seas and the inner workings of all things. The hands that paint the sunset and sunrise, that chose the color of the ocean, that invented laughter and dancing, that God loves me dearly. He is for me. He is for me. He will not forsake me in my weakness. Yes and Amen.