Hey blog! Long time, no write… *Lots* of life has taken place over the last four years, and you will inevitably hear all about it all now that I have remembered that I am, in fact, a writer (and remembered my password for this site). But one ground-breaking revelation at a time, am I right?
SO without further ado… Welcome back to the inside of my mind. Buckle up (and good luck)!
Next month marks eight years since I started college (good grief– that’s crazy to say…), which also means it has been eight years since one of the most *exciting* nights of my life.
Some context for new friends: my roommate’s ex-boyfriend tried to break into our apartment the night we moved in. Sounds crazy, right? The real crazy thing is how often I completely forget about it!
Candidly, after eight years, it has become more of a fun and wild story and less like something that actually happened to me. I thrive on dark humor (much to my friends, family, and therapist’s chagrin) and love to make break-in jokes. I also love to see people’s shocked faces when I recount the high-level details; but I seldom actually sit and remember what my roommates and I experienced that night.
I recently was clearing out my camera roll and happened across a screenshot of the incident report and my roommate’s and my texts from that night. The incident happened around 3am, and as I read the frantic texts and timeline, I was pulled back into the chaos and fear of that moment.
The details that had become so blurry in my memory sharpened– like how at one point, when we were hiding in the corner of my room, we heard a sound and thought he was coming up the stairs. I recalled the feeling of true terror as I white-knuckled a sweater arm for comfort, trying to keep my voice low and steady for the 911 operator. I heard myself asking how quickly the police could get there and felt the relief that washed over me when we saw the blue lights bouncing off the wall from my bedroom window. I heard the crunch of glass as the police left us at 4am– with our busted up door held open to a blood-speckled patio– and I sat in the whirlwind of emotions that came crashing down as the adrenaline wore off.
The details drove home the reality: This was not just a crazy story; It was a real-life trauma that we actually lived.
This realization then made me think… How often do I do this with other memories? Minimize them and turn something very-real into nothing more than a crazy story.
And even more frightening– how often do I do this very thing to everything God has saved me from? What else have I completely trivialized and minimized with the passage of time?
I think of every loss and heartache, every bad day, each mental and physical struggle, and I see a grace-laden hand carrying me through. I feel His loving presence and see how He held me through the pain and confusion of every storm I’ve encountered. I’m so thankful for His mercy and love, and praise Him often, but how often do I actually sit in the truth of what He has done?
Do I truly sit and remember what He did for me in those desert valley days? And just as importantly, do I really embrace the reality of every mountain-top moment? Or do I write it all off as cool moments and nice blessings?
How tragic is it that I have let my wonder and amazement fade. So often, we appreciate God’s hand and deliverance in the moment: a miraculous healing, a prodigal returning, a generational curse broken; but then we move on and let the details blur as time passes and life goes on. The vividness of the miracle fades, and with it, so can our wonder and gratitude at what we actually experienced in the first place.
Our brain rewires itself to think “Oh, that wasn’t that big of a deal!” With both the good and the bad. But ummm… Yeah, it was a big freaking deal!
The bad really was that bad, and the good really was that good.
When He rescued you from the pit, it was a miracle. Goliath really was that imposing, and Egypt really was that horrific. It truly was astounding when He healed your sickness; and when He parted the seas and calmed the storm crashing down around you, it really was a feat of majesty.
It wasn’t a small mercy that He rescued and blessed you. It was the miraculous hand of God and the unfathomable kindness and love He has for you that poured His spirit out onto every one of your best and worst days.
I’m currently on a very specific journey with God, and the season He currently has me in has required more patience and faith than I expected. It’s led to me doubt what I have seen– forgetting what He has promised, and craving the kind of certainty that just cannot be found on this side of Heaven. But in that doubt, He has only further strengthened my faith and my pursuit of Him and Him alone. He has reminded me to look back and see His hand blanketing every moment of my past and look forward knowing it still holds the uncertain ones of my future.
And I’m coming to learn that remembrance is the enemy of unbelief, hope silences fear, and gratitude is a fierce weapon against doubt.
When I continue to meditate on the reality of what the Lord has done, it bolsters my faith in what He will do; and it all reminds me to have hope for what is to come. Because when I remember every time He has shown up, every moment that He has carried me through, it leaves no room for doubt that He will do it again (and again and again…). It’s a call and a challenge to return to the foot of the cross, fully aware of the true reality of who He is.
“I will remember the deeds of the Lord; yes I will remember your miracles of long ago. I will consider all of your works and meditate on all your mighty deeds.”
Psalm 77:11
A favorite song of mine at the moment is Elevation Worship’s At the Altar. I’m constantly reminded of the line, “It’s not lost on me what you saved me from.”
I felt convicted upon hearing it at first because, candidly, I did lose sight of it all. I have minimized His miracles and made the darkness of the past seem lighter through the lens of my present. But it is important to reflect honestly and fully on those wilderness seasons– and to fully appreciate those days in the promised lands.
Yes, my first night of college really was that frightening. And yes, I’m super thankful to be able to forget about it because I am in a healed and healthy place; but I am the most thankful because a bad night was not the end of the story, it was only the beginning of a whole new one— and that’s only because of the grace of God. And I cannot forget to thank Him for that very true reality, in this moment and every other.
He doesn’t call us to sit in our pain or become prideful in our success; and we don’t ruminate on our worst moments or become overconfident in the triumphant ones. Instead, we are invited to use every moment as continued evidence of His goodness. And when the enemy comes knocking, filling our spirits with doubt and fear, all we have to do is point to our past and know that the Lord has our future.
And that leads me to a whole other story. But I think I’ll save that one for another time…
Crowned for a Purpose 