hot pink cherry chip cake.

I walked into the kitchen this morning and found a cherry chip cake covered in hot pink icing and sprinkles. Just for me. Cherry chip cake is my most favorite kind of cake. It tastes nothing like cherries, but instead has a yummy almond/vanilla flavor. 
I ate some. and as I ate some, I tried not to cry. 
Today marks one year. 
365 days ago I took everything out of my childhood room and moved it into a new room. A room with navy blue chevron curtains and hand-sewn pillows. A room smothered in grace and a room welcoming my mess. It was a big mess. 
Let me back up and invite you into a piece of the story that isn't super fun to tell. The piece before the grace-room and victory cries. 
The childhood piece. 
My childhood was hard. It was really hard. 
It was filled with mental illness, lies, abuse, and a whole of pretending. 
I was an expert at pretending. An expert on the stage (as I filled my school days with performing arts) and off. A handful of people knew the truth, a good sum of people denied the truth, and countless people were kept in the dark regarding the truth. 
A year and a half ago, stability went from bad to worse and I knew I needed to get out. I was one test (literally. one test.) away from failing out of nursing school, and the bondage threatening to shackle my soul was almost too much to handle. almost. 
I discreetly began to house hunt. I looked into apartments and room rentals, guest houses and even permanent sleepovers at friend's houses. One by one, doors were closed. Discouragement set in and I attempted to battle it by begging for peace as I realized my lot in life was smaller and more glim than I ever would've imagined. 
Then I got a text message. It said, "We have a room for you and you are welcome to live here." 
I responded in shock, and quickly made plans to meet with them. I wept as Paul and Erin very delicately told me that it was time to learn love. 
And so began the last 365 days. of learning love. 
I had NO idea how to respond to love. I didn't know how to react when a mom wanted to hug me every chance she got, or a father wanted to know when I was going to be home at night. I didn't know that it was normal for a mom to ask about your day and actually listen to the response, and I didn't know it was normal for a father to give good, sound advice. I didn't know how to accept help and I didn't know how to say "I love you" in response to parental figures. I just didn't know. 
I didn't know how to be a daughter. 
So I learned the past year. and I continue to learn today. 
I look back at the last 12 months, and I just smile. So much progress, so much growth. 
I discovered new areas in my life that Jesus wanted to stretch and grow and blossom. I discovered healthy ways of dealing with fear and being out of my comfort zone. I discovered how to appropriately handle conflict and how to communicate more effectively. I discovered that holidays can be fun and it's normal and right to look forward to vacations with family. But most of all, I discovered just how loved I am. 
Of course, I always knew the Father loved me. But to be in an environment where that perfect Father love is embodied, where there is safety, and the Spirit of God- well, it's just unlike anything else I've ever experienced. 
I love my home and my life. I look back, and I can't believe how much life was injected into my soul in one little year. Like the defibrillator was placed on my family-aching heart and got a much needed jolt. I found my heartbeat again. 
A heartbeat that chases after truth, clings to family, and believes in the beauty of orphans coming home. 
I sit here looking at my hot pink slice of cake, and I know. beyond a shadow of a doubt: nothing is wasted. nothing. I love looking at the landscape of my 22 years and knowing that Jesus will use every failure, every success, every crooked path, and every obstacle for His glory. 
He promises to wipe tears from our eyes. 
He will turn our sorrow into rejoicing and weeping into dancing. 
He will comfort us with His rod and staff in the valley of the shadow of death. 
and He will use every bit of it for our good. 
He will waste nothing. 
Hope fuels the soul to impossible places, and that's exactly where hope took me this year. To impossible places. 
Thankful doesn't even begin to describe my heart today. 
I'm thankful for patient parents and belonging. 
I'm thankful for the bedroom down the hall that housed so much healing. 
and I'm thankful for hot pink cherry chip cake. 

pick up the torch.

I have seen my fair share of children. 

I've seen sweet ones and smart ones, wild ones and frustrating ones. I've seen perfectionists, leaders, dreamers, thinkers. I've seen deception and I've seen raw honesty. I've seen peace-carriers and I've seen joy-carriers and I've seen victory-carriers. I've seen kids in tune with the spirit realm, and I've seen kids struggling to understand the existence of God. I've seen kids who can't go two minutes without a hug and kids who would prefer to go a lifetime without a hug. I've seen excellent communicators, creative souls, and kids who would choose to jump in the mud over just about anything. 

I've seen a lot of personalities, a lot of hearts, and a lot of souls. 

But there is one piece of a child's identity that always, always sticks with me. No matter the age, gender, or maturity level. 

Any guesses on what it is??

It's gratitude. thankfulness. appreciation. 

Because here's the deal: 

How long do I really have to figure it out?

How long do I have to figure out how to live a life marked by fullness of joy? 

A life that my husband will delight in. 

A life marked by a woman who knows how to laugh at the days to come. 

A life built so that my children will have memories of a mama who smiles easy, listens long, makes jokes, and sings His praises on good days and in crazy messes, too. 

A life where the Christ in me, Joy Himself, is apparent to the world around me. 

How long do I really have?

I have no idea. 

But I know that all the minutes, they will have enough troubles of their own. I also know that the days I have with these people, in this place... they have enough joy. These days have more than enough Jesus. 

I just have to choose to see. 

Perspective can always, always adopt gratitude. 

And gratitude always parents joy. 

So I work on seeing. 

And sometimes, I get to work on seeing together. 

Like I said, I've seen a lot of kids. and in many cases, I have quite a bit of authority. Not only in their daily activities and schedules, but in their hearts as well. 

So together, we can choose to see gratitude. 

Any still moment we have, we pass the imaginary baton and discuss the gratitude. 

"I am thankful for my dad. For sunshine making the air warmer. For hot soup and good bread." 

"I am thankful for cheese." 

"I am thankful for my teachers and for my house and for the color orange." 

"I am thankful for trees and I'm thankful for the alphabet and I'm thankful for juice." 

"I am thankful for shoes and for sisters and for second chances." 

"I am thankful for my toys."

Everyday, we count blessings. We grow blooms of gratitude, a perspective that helps us see more clearly. 

When we give thanks, we gain joy. All of us. 

Because what will schoolwork really matter if we are bitter souls?

If the house is immaculate, but our attitudes are a mess?

If they can count, but don't know how to count all things as joy?

If we get lists done, but have lost sight of togetherness in Him?

No amount of grammar skill will ever be worthwhile if my kids don't know the language of grace and thanks. What good would it be if they could recite all the major world wars, but they don't know how to see beauty?

Focusing on what is beautiful, good, true... isn't this the truest, most important form of education? Philippians 4:8 tells us so. 

I'm not mother, but I do have the heart of a mother. and I know this: 

Kids that are grateful have better attitudes. 

Kids that are grateful better achieve their personal goals. 

Kids that are grateful have closer relationships. 

Kids that are grateful do better in school. 

Kids that are grateful have greater energy, attentiveness, and enthusiasm. 

Kids that are grateful have greater sensitivity. 

Kids who are grateful just live overall "happier" lives. 

Why?? How can gratitude do all of this? 

It's simple really. 

We were made to live in gratitude to God, giving glory to Him. 

We were made to live in a posture of grateful worship. When we live in praise, we live our purpose. 

We hand children a torch when we hand them the opportunity to be grateful, a dare to hunt for His beauty and goodness. Sparks fall and the world catches and they see light everywhere, God-glory igniting everything. 

Hand them the torch. 

Please. Please hand them the torch. Invite kids to be grateful with you. 

I don't know what that looks like for you. Maybe it's turning off the music on the way to school and beginning the day with a list of things each person is grateful for. Maybe it's keeping a journal, full of things you notice throughout the day that are beautiful, things that you love. Maybe it's writing a card once a week to someone in your work environment, school environment, home environment telling them why you're grateful for them. Maybe it's creating a thankfulness jar- filling up a space with reminders of gratitude to pull from on the crappy days. 

Maybe it needs to start a whole lot simpler than that. Maybe it's learning to say thank you for breakfast, learning to say thank you for ballet lessons, learning to say thank you for gifts and surprises. 

Or maybe you already know a life of gratitude. Maybe you already live from a place of acknowledgement, and are looking for the beauty. I am proud of you. and I am grateful for you. Keep going. Even on the days it's hard, I'm sure you can testify to it's worthiness. 

I've seen a lot of kids. 

But the grateful ones?

The grateful ones are never far from my mind. 

Hey, parents? THANK YOU. Your grateful child makes my heart beam with pride. 

My watch is ticking quiet today. 

I don't know how long I have to live full of His joy. 

But I do have right now. 

And if perspective adopts gratitude and gratitude parents joy, I will pick up the torch and run fierce and long and hard to be that kind of student, friend, daughter, sister, spouse, parent. 

The one who chooses gratitude.

yes.

2014 changed my life. 
2014 took everything I knew, everything I thought I wanted, everything I had dreamed, everything I had cried over, everything I longed for. 2014 took it. and 2014 flipped it upside down, viciously shook it, then somehow set it upright again. 
2014 changed my life. 
2014 was the year I moved out. Not just moved out, but moved IN. Moved into stability, moved into grace, and moved into peace. Moved into a home marked by Holy Spirit love and Jesus contentment. 
2014 was the year I stepped down from a five year commitment serving in the kid's wing at church. 
2014 was the year my dear friend Emma got married. 
2014 was the year I said "absolutely yes" when a handsome boy named Brett asked me to be his girlfriend. (remember this blog post? it makes me laugh). 
2014 was the year my biological parents told me they were getting a divorce. 
2014 was the year I realized that being a big sister is even better than being a princess. 
2014 was the year my best friend Rebecca got engaged. 
2014 was the year God made it clear I would go into psychiatric nursing, coming alongside those who are forgotten and stigmatized. 
2014 was the year I claimed belonging. 
2014 was the year that truth was exposed and darkness was brought into the light. 
2014 was the year I met Cindy and the year I met Michelle, two women who fiercely loved me and championed my heart. 
2014 was the year I was bombarded with tragic stories, death, and emotionally impossible situations.
2014 was the first time that holidays were met with excitement and there were too many people to count present at the dinner table. 
2014 was the year I began an extremely hard, extremely valuable healing process that drew me straight to the heart of Jesus, asking Him to mend the broken pieces of my soul. 
2014 was the year my bosses bought me a Disneyland ticket for Christmas and I almost cried. 
2014 was the year I went to bed at 10 o'clock on New Year's Eve.  ... Oh wait {just kidding} I do that every year. 
2014 was wild. 
and 2014 changed my life. 
I look ahead at 2015, and I wait with great anticipation to see how God will move and shake. 
2015 is going to change my life. 
It's going to be the year of "YES." 
I woke up this morning fully immersed in the Holy Spirit's desire for me this year. 
It's a yes year. 
I'm kind of known for "no." 
No, you can't. No, that's not a good idea. No, put that away. No, I'm not going. No, let's not. No, not now. 
And those are solely the ones directed to others. No one can know of the ones I speak only to myself, about myself, for myself. 
No, you can't be that. No, you can't do that. No good, no chance, no hope. 
Or how about the ones I try to veil, the ones I shamefully stomp at God? 
No, I don't want this! No, I'm not doing that! No, don't change this! No, leave that alone! No, don't ask this of me!
What we speak to others is what we speak to ourselves. And what we speak to ourselves is what we then speak to God. 
I have wrecked two whole decades with that two letter "no" that falls so easily from the end of my tongue, steady drip like a faulty tap. With two letters of the heavy iron, I've crushed. I've crushed hope, dreams, desires. 
True, it's the mantra of national campaigns. "just say no" is a part of every high school routine.  True, it's what is suggested we learn to say in an effort to simplify our lives in the face of constant demands on time. "Learn to say no", they say.  True, it's necessary and vital that we choose "no" in regard to sin and in regard to darkness and in regard to evil. 
But I woke up this morning, thinking back on 2014, and I know this is the year. 
I am done with "no." 
This is the year of yes. 
Yes, as in: 
"Yes, Father, for this was your good pleasure." Luke 10:21 "Yes, Lord, you know that I love you." John 21:16 "For no matter how many promises God has made, they are 'yes' in Christ." 2 Corinthians 1:20
This is the year of yes. 
Yes, let this moment be just as You intend it.  Yes, Your will be done. Not mine.  Yes, you have my whole heart. For my whole life. 
This is the year of yes. 
Yes, He made me and designed me. Perfectly! Yes, I can try!  Yes, be creative!  Yes, laugh! Yes, give it a whirl! Yes, it's really okay! Don't be afraid!
This is the year of yes. 
It's the year that I will kneel down and peer into eager faces and say, "Yes, you can!" and "Yes, that's a brilliant idea!" and "Yes, you can make that dream a reality!" 
Yes, honor. Yes, love. Yes, submit. 
Every command of "thou shalt not" ultimately is a simultaneous "yes" to Christ. 
So I choose yes. 
For every no, I will find the yes. and I will be glad in it. 
I slip out of bed and into a fresh new year. 
Into the year of yes.