hope & healing for your journey through the unexpected
Living a life of intention by pursuing what is slow, simple, and good. Find resources, tips, and tools that focus on intentional living.
Since I was a young girl, I knew who God was and what it meant to be in relationship with Him. Throughout my childhood and young adult life, I’d built a relationship with Him—always eager to learn more, to find ways to connect with Him. What I knew, but never really experienced until I had to battle my health daily, was the gift of His presence.
The following is an excerpt from the ebook, Ungrounded: A Companion for Pausing in God’s Presence.
Growing up, our local dance studio was practically my second home. For fifteen years, countless hours were spent inside the studio learning ballet, tap, jazz, pointe, and, embarrassingly, hip hop for a few years. All the practice and hard work culminated in an annual spring recital.
Performing was something I had been trained to do, but being on stage was never something I looked forward to.
“You have handled this so well,” I heard time and time again while enduring chemotherapy to slow the growth of my rare tumor. A phrase that never sat well with my soul.
A people-pleaser at heart, the phrase unknowingly boxed me into having to meet other’s expectations of my health—a sense of having to handle my thoughts, feelings, and health well. While offered to encourage, the phrase laid out before me a stage—one that asked me to give the performance of my life—not for my sake, but for the benefit of others.
I’m honored to have my article “Letting Go to Embrace” included in the Change issue of the Iola magazine. It was written for anyone who has ever struggled to let go of the life they had planned and embrace the one they’ve been given. Enjoy a preview in this post!
Pen poised over my journal one morning, I felt a nudge to be still. “Take some time to rest and just be,” the voice in my head prompted me. Over the next 24 hours, I contemplated those words. I tried to piece together what I was being called to do. Deep down, I knew, but it was easier to ignore that voice.
I continued to pursue the easy path and pressed on as I attempted to pay no mind to the pull I felt—the voice telling me to stop striving and to seek rest.
A few weeks later, the pull became too strong to ignore. I had no choice but to pay attention.
I caught myself reliving my past. Trying to rush back to “normal.”
Just as I had suppressed the magnitude of my initial tumor diagnosis four years prior in favor of continuing on with life as usual, I noticed myself trapped by similar coping mechanisms when chemo treatments came to a happy, abrupt end.
It was time to “move on” and “get back to life” as I once knew it. At least, that is what the world seemed to have to say about it. But life as I knew it had forever changed. Slowly, I recognized that while my body had healed, there were other parts of my story where healing had just begun. Over the last year, as I’ve walked toward healing, I’ve discovered that when it comes to healing, your pace is your pace.
Today, I celebrate the start of a new decade. I turned thirty at 12:04 am.
A few months ago, I couldn’t wait to turn thirty. I was ready to leave my twenties behind and all the craziness I never expected to live. I managed to do a thing I often do and convinced myself my thirties offered a fresh, clean slate—a second chance for life to prove this decade could be different.
But as I write this, I’ve recognized the error of my ways.
Not very much of my twenties went according to my plans, but I’m continually learning that the path I never would have chosen can still lead to a full life.