The Winning Light

The grief journey is a daily thing.
A one day at a time basis.

You begin in complete darkness, feeling lost and out of place.

As you walk one day at a time you experience the painful anniversaries. You will walk along the road of life feeling proud of yourself, then suddenly you remember the significance of a certain day. The memory happened a year ago and all of the emotions flood into your wounded heart. The scar becomes a fresh cut and once again you struggle to breathe and to stop the bleeding. This has happened to me a lot this year as I have remembered each anniversary.

The darkness comes back every time.

I am now at last to the point where I have walked through almost every single memory up until things fell apart last summer.
I had often wondered what I would feel this June. Would I still feel sad? Angry? Would I even care?
Now that it's finally here... I can safely say I am thankful. If I am being completely honest, I am relieved the anniversaries have passed but I also praise God for them. I praise Him for His incredible ways of comfort and provision in spite of my grief.

In spite of the darkness.

I have learned so much this year, yet, I still find that in His ever loving provision I am still so much like the Israelites. I still fear the unknown. I still question if He will save the day even though He has always proven to do so. I still fully realize that I am human and I WILL mess up.

I still fear the darkness.

Yet... I have walked through the burning heat of last summer, the welcome relief of fall, the comforting winter nights, and the redemption of a pouring spring.

One day at a time. In and out of darkness.

Now... I finally see the sun.

I can look straight at its burning glory and let its warmth envelop me. I have found I can laugh at the days to come because I have learned to take one day at a time. I can't do this whole life thing on my own. I won't do it perfectly and I will get hurt.
Yet I know I have learned one thing for sure... the dark won't last forever. The grace of God will always win.

The light will win over the darkness.

I remember listening to this song a good friend showed me months ago when I was in my rough season:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q-6IqP7UQQU

I could barely listen to this song because I wondered if it would ever come true. I actually wanted to stay in the dark. I never wanted to see the sun again because I was so badly wounded by losing my happiness and joy. Now, I have found that with each day that passes my heart has been put back together slowly in such a beautiful way.

I have realized that before I could see the sun again, I had to walk through the darkness and the rain. This is just like the crazy rain we had the last couple of weeks (not the light, misty kind...the intense flooding kind). The rain came and washed away all of the yuck, all of the grossness inside, and now there is only light. There is only forgiveness.

Now that my heart has been cleansed, the sun doesn't seem so scary anymore.

When I think of what happened a year ago... I don't struggle to breathe. In fact, I can smile. I am new... I am forgiven... and now I can finally forgive in return. I refuse to just survive. I will now live.

A year ago, the sun was blinding. Now? I can't get enough of it. I am changed for His glory forever.

"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. 

The old has passed away; behold, the new has come."

2 Corinthians 5:17

The Day That God Was Dead

Big moments stick out to us, don't they?

"So and so got married." 

"Her dad passed away."

"This person had a baby."

"He's in the hospital."

"They adopted a son."

"She got laid off." 

"I've always loved you, I'm just now saying it out loud." 

We live for the big moments... even crave them. Big moments are valuable, unforgettable. Whether good or bad, they keep us going. They determine the direction of our lives. They keep us from falling asleep in the movies or putting down a book or from simply getting bored of life. 

Easter represents two REALLY big moments in the scheme of eternity; Jesus' death and resurrection. They cause us to cry bitterly and then to raise our voices in joy. These moments give us emotion and meaning. We repent when we remember what Jesus suffered on the cross. We praise when we remember His infinite power in rising again. 

So what happens when we think of the awkward "in between?" 

There are so many hymns and worship songs that speak of Christ's blood and of His resurrected life. 

...Somehow, I don't remember singing much about His grave.

Throughout my life I have realized that I try to skip over this day in the Easter celebration. I ignored its existence. This is because the grave isn't a "big moment." Nothing monumental happens. Jesus is dead and everyone is left to go back to their old, normal lives. I had NO idea what to do with this day. How am I supposed to picture my God dead? 

You see, we have the advantage. We know the end of the story. The disciples didn't. 

Can you imagine that day for the disciples? For Mary? For everyone who watched Jesus perform miracles and believed? For those who begged Jesus to do something ...anything... to prove Himself as God by calling down His angels. Instead, He gasped for air and died? 

Literally. God was dead.

Picture this for a second: 

For a day, the Enemy won. Pilate washed his hands. The Roman soldiers proved their harsh authority and prevailed. The Sadducees and Pharisees smirked in satisfaction. 

Everything the disciples lived for now meant nothing. 

There was no reason for hope. They were now the laughing stock. The fools. 

That must have felt like the longest day in history. 

We don't like this day. This day is awkward for us. We always look forward to the next morning when we will put on our Sunday Easter best, drink our coffee and sing songs that feel good to forget about what happened today. 

Again, we know how the story ends. 2,000 years ago they had no idea. 

Still, this "small moment" is so necessary. 

In a strange way, I find this day comforting. 

Like me, there are those of you who have experienced real grief, real pain. You are walking around on this earth, looking up at the sky and asking, "God, where are you?" 

The suffering in your life has happened. You have walked through the storm but there are still clouds and it's still cold and dark. You haven't seen the "light at the end of the tunnel." The storm was at least exciting. At least something was happening to you. It was a big moment, but now, nothing exists. There seems to be no good reason left to open your eyes in the morning. Your hope is gone. 

Your resurrection hasn't happened yet. 

We sing "My God's not dead, He's surely alive!", but I think sometimes we forget that He was actually dead for a day. I think sometimes we forget that other people still feel like God is dead even after seeing the movie... even after growing up in the church... even after knowing all the scriptures and all the right answers. 

Those who believe He is dead can be devout atheists, and they can also be devoted Christians. 

It might even be you and you don't even realize it. 

Have you tried to ignore this day because you're afraid He might still not be alive in your life? Are you in between big moments? 

Dear friend, you are not alone. 

But you know what? This day is actually beautiful. You are allowed to grieve. You are allowed to scream His name and ask Him "Where are you?" You are allowed to break down in front of His grave tonight. 

Unlike the disciples, tonight you have reason to hope. Tonight, you will know beyond a shadow of a doubt that joy comes in the morning. Your resurrection will happen. Your big moment is coming. 

Because of this eternal hope, I'll no longer ignore the day that God was dead. 

Twenty Two Things

 - Twenty two things I have learned about being twenty two - 

My last selfie as a 22 year old! (And it's in the snow... so even better)

One

Expect much of others and you'll be disappointed. Expect much of God and you will be satisfied.


Two 

Comparing yourself will not make you better... or make you feel better.


Three 

Graduation day tears are normal and in fact, necessary.


Four

Waking up to a hail storm on a tin roof at 7 a.m. can be one of the most hilarious experiences with the right friends.


Five

When tragedy happens, don't try to be strong. Nothing will fully prepare you for that. Fall to your knees, let the tears come, take a deep breath and cry out to Jesus.


Six

Even if someone else forgets, never question how valuable you are in the eyes of Christ.


Seven 

Headbands are life savers on bad hair days. Especially if you wear them like a hippie during hot summer days.


Eight

Don't regret the risks that left you with nothing. Learn from the risk. Stand up, dust yourself off and try again.


Nine

Grief is not a curse. Grief is medicine. You will never heal if you don't grieve.


Ten

Green iced tea with no classic, chumpkin lattes, matcha, and iced coffee have gotten me through some of the most exhausting days.


Eleven

I love teaching voice, directing theatre, conducting, acting, singing etc. I don't think this will ever change. Ever.


Twelve

Pop music is actually pretty good. So is Taylor Swift... (now). But I still will NEVER say that about country music.


Thirteen

Kristen Stauffer Todd was an incredibly beautiful, hilarious, intelligent, and strong woman/wife/mother/professor. I will love her forever. Her legacy will NEVER be forgotten. She was indeed, the "sexiest."


Fourteen 

My show choir girls reminded me of the great love of God... and because of this strong unfailing love, "how can I keep from singing?"


Fifteen 

Graduating doesn't mean I won't ever perform again. The Tulsa PAC made that clear enough.


Sixteen 

Laugh with those who rejoice and mourn with those who grieve. Relationships are give and take.


Seventeen

Scarves are still the best accessories ever.


Eighteen

Writing again was an incredibly hard decision. It was also one of my best decisions.


Nineteen 

You will know who your true friends are after you lose something/someone. You will also make new friends that seem to come out of nowhere.


Twenty

Getting in my car and going somewhere I have never been before is way more therapeutic than binge watching Netflix. (But I still do that too... all the time. No shame.)


Twenty One

Follow your dreams. They might not come true and your dreams will change... and that's okay. Follow those new ones, too.


Twenty Two

Because of Jesus I am forgiven, so I forgive. I am loved, so I will love again.





A love lost, embers flicker
what once burned was a great fire, now dust. 
Footsteps away, my heart in pieces. 
I tragically fall. 

Along the way, I hear whispers
of First Love and melodies so real, I trust. 
Not far away, my heart releases. 
I give Him my all. 




Wow. What a year.

The cup, the pearls, the flower, & the wood (Part II, The ring)

Here is the hidden piece in my small decoration.

The Ring: 

"I want a simple, silver band." I said to my mom as we peered through the glass windows of a jewelry store.
"No hearts, no crosses, no 'True Love Waits' phrases... just a ring."

My twelve year old heart cherished the silver band on my left ring finger. This was a symbol of my new vow of purity to the Lord and to my future husband.

This ring represented...

Self control. 
Beauty.
Innocence. 
Commitment. 
Joy. 
Contentedness.
Love.


I bought the small wooden box just after I was given the silver ring. The box was meant to hold my ring once I was no longer going to wear this piece of jewelry.

I vowed I would never allow the ring to leave my hand until it was replaced with another ring. One that meant I was engaged.



I kept that vow...

...and the ring is now placed in the box.




I know it seems silly, but this was a huge decision for me.

When I became engaged, I lovingly placed the purity ring inside my little wooden box. I figured the only time I would ever take it out again would be to show my possible future daughter the commitment I had made when I was her age.

Once my engagement ended, I opened the box and placed the ring back on my naked ring finger.
What else was I to do? I had worn that ring for ten years. I was loyal to my vow. Even though I was unable to make a vow to the man I thought would be my husband, I knew I could continue to keep this one.

But as the days and weeks and months went by, that ring just did not gleam like it used to.
The silver looked ugly and worn to me.
Honestly, I felt like a failure for wearing it. What was once an innocent and beautiful vow made to the Lord turned into something confusing, wrong, and used.

Interestingly enough, over the course of those ten years before my engagement hardly anyone mentioned my ring. I maybe had a few conversations about its meaning, but most of the time they were always with friends that I knew well.
But the few months I wore the ring after my broken engagement many people I did not even know asked me about it.

"Are you married?" 
"Why the silver band?" 
"Does your ring symbolize anything?" 

I found myself explaining the ring more within those few months than within the ten year period. Each conversation ended with me saying something like,
"Honestly... I don't really know why I still have it on." Then I quickly tried to change the subject.

Finally, I questioned my reasons for putting the ring back on my finger. I found that my conversations with these friends and strangers resulted in me feeling that I was likely doomed to keep this ring on forever. That it was punishment for not being good enough for the diamond. That I should have never taken the ring off in the first place.

This ring now represented...
Anger. 
Bitterness. 
Loneliness. 
Brokenness. 
Punishment. 
Emptiness. 
Grief.


I honestly believe God prompted these people to ask me about my ring. This was all a part of His plan to heal my heart along the way. It was as if I could hear Him saying,

"Breana... take the ring off." 

I was struggling to hold onto a life that no longer existed. I was clutching onto dreams that I refused to sacrifice to a God who had much better plans for my broken heart. While I believed the Lord had me wear that ring for a time, He was now calling me to take the ring off.
I'm not saying that it's wrong for anyone to wear a purity ring. If you are convicted to wear one... wear one. If you aren't, then don't.

Whatever choice causes you to fall in love with God even more is what you should do... because that is all that matters. 

In a funny way, I think He wants my bare finger to speak His name to the world.
I am His and His alone. I am not bound by a commitment to anyone or myself. I am bound only to Him.
I think that's how He uses us anyway. He chooses the broken, the small, the wounded, the naked, the weak for His glory.

So I took the ring off.

That's why it's sitting on my lace laden piano.
My sacrifice of praise.



...It doesn't seem like a small piece of decoration anymore.

The cup, the pearls, the flower, & the wood (Part I)

This well worn winsome cup sits on my keyboard laden with lace in my room. It is a simple, delicate china cup which holds ivory pearls (less real than to be desired) and a deep purple silk flower (also less real than to be desired.) By now you might have noticed that against the cup on the saucer sits a small piece of wood which reads "Love." 

I admit, it is an odd piece of decoration. Pretty, yes, but odd. 

Now since I tend to make everything in my life have meaning in some way or another, what could this piece of decoration possibly entail? 

This decoration represents a sort of surrender. Quite a monumental one, actually (at least for my little life). The cup clinks against my keyboard as I frustratingly furrow my brows while erasing timid pencil marks. The cup looks at me as I look out my window longing for a new world, a new life. The cup listens to me as I pour out my sacrificial, broken praise to the only One who understands my heart. I see the cup, and the little piece of wood that says "Love," and I remember to Whom my heart belongs. 

Let me explain. 

The Cup: 

Worthiness.

I received the cup and saucer when I was twelve years old at a girl's purity study. We had a tea party on a beautiful spring evening and I listened intently as our leader spoke into our little girl hearts. As I sipped tea out of my new lovely little cup, I watched as my teacher pulled out a paper cup and a ceramic mug. She lifted the paper cup first and said, 

"Some girls think of themselves as paper cups. They know they exist, yet they are worn out. They feel they are only made to be used once and then thrown away. Forever forgotten. Without any value of any kind." 

Then she lifted the mug, 

"Other girls know they are useful. They understand they are not to be thrown away, yet they see themselves as generic... basic... living an "okay" life. They believe they are still easily forgotten among the rest. Most of the time they hide, only to be shown every once in a while." 

Then she softly smiled and lifted a china cup of her own, 

"Then there is the china cup. Beautiful. Intricately designed by an artist. Hand crafted and made with detail, precision, care, and love." 

I watched as she held the cup. The sunset light drifted through the windows causing the golden rims to glimmer all the more. 

"You are the china cup. You have great value. You are worthy because the Artist has made you worthy. You are to be displayed, protected, admired, and adored. No matter where you have been or what you have done, this will never change. Do not allow anyone tell you otherwise, do not believe the lie that you are the paper cup or the ceramic mug."

My twelve year old heart took hold of these words tightly: "I am the china cup."

Our girl's bible study leader told us to take our china cups home so that we would always look at them and never forget that night. 

I know I never did. 

I sat the cup in a place where it could be seen in my room as a young girl. For a little while, I admired it and allowed the Lord to speak this truth in my heart that I was worthy. I was beautiful and valuable in His eyes. 

The Pearls: 

Surrender.

During that same time in my life I learned about the story of the little girl who was asked by her Daddy to give up her beloved fake pearls. She did not understand, but willingly gave the pearls to him. She trusted that he knew best. He then gave her real pearls for her to treasure. 

(You can find the full story here).

I placed fake pearls of my own into my little cup to remind me that my dreams and desires are not always what I think they are. That in times of uncertainty, failure, or grief... He has something better for me that I cannot yet see. 

The Flower:

Growth.

Honestly, this fake little flower is meant for the purpose of catching my eye. I knew the cup itself was not enough for me to remember these truths as I found it had collected dust over the years. The flower is also a reminder that in spite of my becoming a woman and changing, the truth of the cup remains the same. 

The Wood: 

Treasure.

Also in my younger life I decided to buy the little piece of wood. Was I attracted to it because of the color? The size? The word engraved? 

Well, perhaps some of these things played a part for the reason why I bought it. Although the truth is there is another reason... 

...and the reason is not visible in the picture that you see above. 

The entire reason for this decoration is hidden.

To be continued. 

Trampled Road

A fork in the road.
haunting.
taunting.

Change lingers in the wind as you
slowly
drown in
unrelenting seas of
                              unabashed
unashamed
                   uninviting soiling soil beneath your
feet.
The road less traveled by seems trampled.
The road less traveled by seems traveled enough.

Although, perchance

it is not so.

Thoughts on the Weather

For the last few months I have been increasingly thankful for the weather in every season. Each has its own enchanting charm. The Lord has brought each one to heal my grief ridden heart.

October 
brought the cool misty night air... a welcome release from the blazing heat of my summer woes. Perfect for star gazing and climbing through a golden wood.

November 
brought earlier and more beautiful sunrises.
On my early morning drives to work I marveled at the incredible paintings in the sky our Artist would create.
My breath was instantly taken away at the beginning of each day.

December 
brought rolling clouds and rain for the earth to drink.
This set the perfect, relaxing atmosphere for serving coffee throughout the busy holidays.

January 
now brings a stronger, icy chill. And although it is incredibly cold... it makes hot tea, blankets, and a night at home watching movies with your roomie all the more wonderful.

"For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven..."

Ecclesiastes 3:1