Deeply Rooted

Hair. My hair and her hair were a point of connection my mom and I had for years. I was her only daughter, and she would run her fingers through my hair, would braid it, would flat iron it, and we would always play with each other's hair. I would braid hers, try to do different things with it,  and brush it. Now I twirl my hair on my fingers, missing the touch of her hands in the only activity I really remember us doing one-on-one together. When I was little, I did not always want to do her hair, but now I do miss that time. I miss doing her hair. I was always told, “Your mom loves you, she just doesn’t know how to show it”, and I believe that is true.       When I decided to cut contact with my biological mom, it became a decision I have to make every day. Some days that decision is harder than others. We live in a world that responds in multiple ways to a child who has had to make this choice. Two of the ways that I have heard and said to myself a lot includ...

 Connected A word that can be counterfeited A counterfeit of the phone, the television show, the movie.  A counterfeit of gossip where we feel connected when we join others in bringing words of brokenness rather than life.  A counterfeit of being in a group, but not feeling like I belong.  A person to call A person to text A person's page to look through All while with me in the presence of you I try desperately to get one's attention to see them buried in that same counterfeit connection I remember the days we entered each other's worlds Rather than the virtual world We have a counterfeit connection now And I miss you I miss you not because you aren't physically here You are physically here I miss you because although we are in the same room, I can't get connected no matter how hard I try.  I fear rejection constantly.  I fear that we are losing time together.  Maybe I miss God too, not because he won't connect with me; rather, I struggle to connect w...

Poetic Statement      This poem was written for a group project I have been working on for my Foundations of Counseling class in seminary. I sense this wrestling in myself that relates to the truth established in the passage of Psalm 139 that God knows us. I have thought the thought "nobody knows what this is like" and often counter that with "God does". There is this wrestling to be known, to be seen, and to know others. 

    I have lived much of my life not wanting to grow up. I know I see it among toddlers who still want to drink out of the bottles they had as babies or still want pacifiers. I know I have seen it, especially in times of my life that I have deeply enjoyed, such as my sixth-grade experience at a nature school and college, which were two times in my life that were a lot of fun. Recently, having graduated from college, I know a little longing was within me, saying, "NO, GO BACK!" I was ready to let go of Cornerstone University for sure after everything that happened, but I did not feel ready to let go of college. I longed to separate myself from the specific school, but being seen as a college student was fun. I have also grown up for 22 years in Grand Rapids, and now I am faced with figuring out this new, smaller town.       When I go back to Grand Rapids, I have this realization that really, there is no place to really go now that I would call home, at least...

I long to be enough To be enough to solve all the problems in my family, and the problems in my friend's lives. I long to be enough To be enough to prove the words said to my 8-year-old self wrong I long to be enough To be enough to be special.  I long to be enough To be enough to be successful in my field I long to have healed enough, although I feel like I have barely peeled back the layers.  I long to be strong enough, but man, I don't feel strong.  I long to be enough for my friends. I have longed to be enough for both my parents fighting over me in a custody battle.  I longed to be enough when my second-grade teacher would praise me all the time in class, when home looked so different.  I have longed to be enough for years, as long as I could remember.  A Halloween when I was about four, I had to choose between my parents. I wished I could have been enough to go with both of them.  A car ride back from dad's when I was maybe 5 or 6 years old, I wi...

    This is my real college experience that I have held back on sharing. This is my personal experience of college and may include some aspects of the school I attended (which will not be named in this blog, however, most people who will read this blog will know where I went to school). I have held back over this past year about my school experience, but I feel like I have held back long enough.  Sophomore year of college      I was expected at that point to have everything figured out. I was supposed to have the rhythm down. I mean, I was supposed to make new friends freshman year, and those friends would stick around sophomore year. I was supposed to find a church by that point. I was supposed to have classes down. I was supposed to be a leader for the new freshmen. Here I was, though many of my friends were transferring or leaving, other friendships I used to have were having this weird shift and distance seemed to form, lost in the direction of finding...

    "MY GOD IS GREATER THAN YOU," I screamed in my dream right before I woke up. I sometimes have dreams of this type, which often carry a spiritual meaning. I was declaring in the dream that God was bigger than the attacker. I don't remember much about the attacker, but I remember having to yell that God is greater very boldly. That is all I could really remember about the dream, but the phrase in that dream that echoed throughout the whole week, along with "The joy of the Lord is my strength". This dream occurred the night before I fell ill with Influenza B. I woke up from the dream with a feeling that something just wasn't right. I took my temperature and found I had a low-grade fever.      Right before Influenza B, I got done with a local missions trip where I came back with this desire to dive into the book where "the joy of the Lord is my strength" was written- Nehemiah. The truth is that I am the hardest on myself. One reason I am hard on my...