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