my herd.

We are inherently pack animals. I really believe that it is bred deep in our souls to walk together.

We all huddle together in neat little units, families, and friends. We choose people that think and eat and pray just like we do. When we stray too far from the herd, we are weak. vulnerable. scared. Wolves begin to surround us and they start closing in. 

It's just so much safer to stay hunkered down in the middle of the pack. 

But really? Safe is just boring. 

So I start to break free. 

As a child, I drifted around among the ranks. I tried every sport ever created, but never enjoyed it enough to play another season. I started to try out for stage plays and musical theatre. I took art classes. I was a debater, a non-partier, and a lover of English. I switched churches. I started college, and hung out with almost exclusively nursing majors. I couldn't figure out where I belonged as I darted between herds. 

I just wanted to find my own people. 

I'm twenty years old. I'm young. But I'm realizing something really sweet. 

God is there during all the darting and drifting. 

I'm not alone after all. 

I'm a nanny, a student, a daughter, a sibling, a friend. In each of these roles, I see so much segregation. There are church groups, the private school moms, the athletes, the writers. There are the artists, the musicians, and the book club folks. There's the career women and the homemakers. There's the cheerleaders, the football boys, and the crowd on the sidelines. 

Even now, I find myself sprinting between so many of these, hoping it's not too obvious that I'm not a devout attender. There are times when I put on a ruffly top with skinny jeans and chunky jewelry and stay in one group for a while, only to feel the longing to leave and join the ranks of another. So I change into running shoes and sprint quickly through the desolate fields to join the group of yoga-pants-and-sweatshirt-wearing folks. The cycle continues. I don't want to be eaten by the wolves. I don't want to be caught in the middle. I want to be squarely secure in the pack. For safety. 

As I was applying to nursing school, trying to figure out what path God wanted me to take, I got a letter. It was underneath my windshield wipers on my car one day. and it's taken my several weeks to process it. I have no idea who left it, though I have a few ideas :) It said:

Be brave, miss Alyssa. It's more important that you try new things and fail than to sit comfortably in an easy place suceeding. Don't feel that you're failures will ever disappoint us, for in those failures you gain character, strength, and perspective. Think higher. Dream bigger. God expects you to use your talents to their very fullest. Chase after His best for you. Don't settle. You are loved. and you are never, ever alone.

Maybe not fitting in is a good thing. Perhaps in the times we are afraid and vulnerable, running in the wide open fields of doubt, we find our true footing. It's in those times that God is preparing for us to rise up. It's in those times that God is shaping our hearts for the crowns He can't wait to place on our head. 

Or maybe it's during those times that He's just waiting for us to catch a glimpse of the crown that's already there. 

We can rest in the comfort that God is our perfect Shepherd. We can look those wolves straight in the eye and say you cannot touch me. After all, others are running, too. Left and right, there are people darting amongst safe places. 

So we grab hands, friends. We grab hands and we form our own messy, eclectic, diverse, blended, disorganized, beautiful ragtag herd. We laugh. We pray. and we fail. But we keep on running. 

Together. 

For we are loved. And we are not alone. 

and that's what matters. 

To the mommas, the teachers, the nurses, the athletes, the conservatives, the bookworms, the teacher's pets, the rebels, the dancers, the painters, the dreamers, the charismatics, the nannies, the writers, the friends, the hopers: Love you. You belong. 

I love my herd. 

~Lyss

Thank you. Seriously. Thank you.

I honestly wish I could transport each and every one of you to my university and force you to experience what I experienced yesterday.

Yesterday changed my life. It was a day I will remember forever. Literally. Forever.

I will be 80 years old, and telling my grandchildren about Wednesday, October 17, 2012 at around 4 o'clock.

Let me just set the stage for you.

In September of 2010, I began school at Simpson University in pursuit of a nursing degree. and the 24 months following that has been filled with countless hours of studying and lectures and lab, lots of tears, lots of hard work, lots of challenges, lots of decisions, and lots of great anticipation and joy.

I submitted my application into the nursing program on Monday, October 1st, and settled into a three week stretch of waiting.

It actually went faster than I thought, and the day finally arrived. Yesterday.

The last two years culminated in one moment.

I was literally shaking as I put my key into the mailbox and pulled out the envelope. I did my best to rip it open and read only the first few words... "You have been accepted"... before the tears came. I ran out to my dear friends waiting outside and we all just SCREAMED.

Loudly. So loudly that a group of girls from across campus yelled, "Who got engaged?!" haha!!

Jumping and hugging and declarations of our futures. Together.

I don't think I've ever been hugged by so many strangers in a span of five minutes. It was just the most magical celebration.

I truly wish I could adequately express to you everything that I have felt in the last twenty four hours.

But instead, I'd just like to take this time to say Thank You.

To each and every one of YOU. If you are reading this, then I'm talking to you.

Whatever role you have played, whatever amount of time you have invested, the kind words you have spoken or sent, the hug you have given, the hope you have held for me, the strength you prayed over me.

People say this all the time, but from the deepest corners of my heart I say to you:

I would NEVER be where I am today without each of you.

God's perfect timing so amazes me. Every.single.time. I didn't think I could study one more minute or read one more word or take one more quiz or see one more picture of the human body, God used each of you to remind me of who I am and who I am called to be. I found myself smack dab in the middle of so much love.

Your beautiful voices in my world shout so loudly God's heart for my life, and it is with overwhelming gratitude that I humbly thank you.

I got a text on Monday morning that said this: Lyss, you are a daughter of the Most High. Royal blood flows in your veins. The God of truth and hope will deliver what He promises.

God's word breathes life into my soul. His love letter to me is my primary source of peace and safety and truth. But I feel extra, extra loved by Him when He uses each of you to reiterate how He feels about me.

Royal blood flows in my veins...

and it flows yours, too.

I am BLOWN away by the amount of love that has just overtaken my soul during this process.

Jesus knew exactly what He was doing when He created you, and I will forever be grateful for your selfless love for me.

Thank you.

Seriously.

Thank you. 

It is with great pride and joy that I call you family and friends.

... and hey. Someday, if you ever find yourself in the hospital, and I get to be your nurse, I promise you that I will do my best to ensure that you are not only physically cared for. but that you are loved. that you feel as though you have an advocate. that you are safe.

I anxiously await the opportunity to step inside the hospital walls and spread the love of Jesus all over.

You are loved.

Gratefully,
Alyssa

His feet are dirty.

Several years ago, I was a senior in high school. and I heard a sermon about Scripture. It was beautiful. I'll never forget it. I was reminded that His words are sweeter than honey, and are perfectly wonderful for me to crave. And I did. 

For months I read more than I have ever read before- I stuck to that reading plan for months and months. I remember thinking: "this is it. I've reached the relationship that so many people talk about. I'm reading. I'm reflecting. I'm journaling. Yep. This is it." 

and then, somewhere in there, my world crashed down around me. 

My discontent, my questions, my fear... it all came rushing back and I found myself struggling to keep my head above water. I spent my days using every ounce of energy just clinging to His robe, whispering my cries for help. 

I felt so bad thinking it. I almost felt like a heretic. How can I think His word isn't enough? I mean... It's His word. Hmmm, what has my Bible teacher called it for years? A love letter. Yes, a love letter. How could I possibly brush that aside as though it is not sufficient to fill the void? How was it possible that I was able to gather my deepest breaths and encouragement from a breathtaking sunset or that gorgeous fall breeze enveloping me on my way to the car after school? Could I really be hearing His voice at night, when I lay awake... achy, longing... and listening to the steady beat of my own heart?

The more I learned to embrace the questions, the more I began to sink into them... the more I saw His love for me all throughout my day. A tight hug from a friend. flowers from another. A well-timed text message from my second mom. Packages waiting for me in my mailbox. 

The first Mumford and Sons Album. The entire thing. 

Daisies. 

Clean sheets. 

Soon, if I let them, these little blessings left me breathless with His love for me. 

Then I started to take stock of the way my heart responds to people. to relationships. and I realized that all I really wanted was for people to be real with me. I didn't care if it was messy, or hard, or confusing. Being real and genuine is always, always beautiful. 

Earlier this week, as I sat in a coffee shop with a friend, I began to talk my way through this very same thing again. I found myself echoing those same words I did several years ago. She holds my words so carefully, claiming what is good and throwing out what is unnecessary. When I'm finished talking, she smiles. 

"You know, Lyss, I completely understand. I'm finding that right now, God is just being so faithful to place me around people that I can't scare away. He knows I need people in my life who have been broken and confused, but still love Jesus. Because right now, I don't have any pretending left in me. I can't do anything else but choose to be real." 

um. whoa. 

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: it's so refreshing, so freeing, to know. and be known. I don't have to trip over myself in order to say the right things or know the right verses. I don't have to meticulously hope that my argument can stand on its own, or try to prove that I'm worthy. 

I can just sit in the questions. I can sit in the mess for a while and know that He's here. holding my hand. 

and you know what else? I'm realizing that the Alyssa who spent hours and hours reading the Bible my Bible my senior year is completely different than the Alyssa I am today. I still read the Bible, though not as a check off of my to-do list. I don't have an emotional need to be right all the time. I refuse to be less than who am I called to be. I am slowly watching Jesus transform lies into truth. 

But this is the best part: Instead of falling in love with the words written on paper, I'm weak in the knees because Jesus Himself is pursuing me. and every single day, I fall more and more in love. I'm madly in love with Jesus, whose feet are dirty from running hard and fast after my dusty broken heart. I'm passionately in love with Jesus, whose arms are strong from holding me perfectly afloat when nothing else in the world made sense except His quiet answer to my desperate plea for help. 

Here I am, Alyssa. Oh, how many times He has so gently, patiently whispered this against the shaking of my soul. 

and now, boldness and strength have been spoken over me. grace has been spoken over me. 

... and I'm able to say "I know, Jesus. I love you. Thank you." 

He's here. He's there. 

He's everywhere. 

I promise. 

You are loved,

Lyss

In which I write to a stranger.

“We desire to possess a beauty that is worth pursuing, worth fighting for, a beauty that is core to who we truly are. We want beauty that can be seen; beauty that can be felt; beauty that affects others; a beauty all our own to unveil.” Captivating, John and Stasi Eldredge

I have this odd love for strangers. I wish I could explain it well. I don't necessarily like to talk to them, or let them know that I love them. I just love them from afar. I pray for them, sometimes really specifically. 

And today, I feel like I'm supposed to write to one of them. I don't know her name. I don't know how old she is, though I would guess maybe seventeen or eighteen. I don't know who she is. 

... and she will most likely never read this. 

And I'm okay with that. There's just some things she needs to hear. and maybe I need to hear them, too.

Sweet girl, 

I don't know if you meant to weep that loudly or not. I'm not sure if the sobs racking your body were completely unexpected or if your soul just knew it was time to pull back the curtain on your pain- time to expose what the mirror has done. time to expose the lies it has so cunningly whispered into your ear. time to acknowledge that it has limited you and attempted to define you... yet it's done a really poor job. 

I so connected with your feelings I was ready to barge in that dressing room at TJ Maxx and take your face into my hands like you were my own sister and give those lies inside your brain a piece of my mind. I wanted to. Bad. 

Because I've been there. I'm still there sometimes. The stores, the mirrors, the numbers. Feelings of failure and inferiority. Lies. 

The enemy had a field day with me. 

But if I have anything to say about it, he won't get to you. 

I just want to pass you a note and tell you that you're so lovely.

Oh my goodness, that hair. It's the most perfect shade of red. Honestly. There are women all over the country that spend oodles and oodles of money to get their locks colored the way that God chose to artfully hue yours. 

Your gorgeous green eyes carry so much life. Whatever you are passionate about, whatever is giving you that spark, keep chasing it. It's worth it. Even through tears, I know you are strong. and powerful. 

You are beautiful. I watched you try on so many things and just get discouraged. and it was breaking my heart. You know why? Because you couldn't see how stunning you looked in so many different colors. You were created to be this incredible canvas. Display His glory confidently, friend. 

I don't even know if this is making sense to you. and I'm sure you're conjuring up a million and one rebuttals for me. But can I tell you a secret? 

The enemy is lying to you in those dressing rooms. and he's messing with your image and your heart and your brain. Do you know why? Because he's really afraid. 

He's afraid of what will happen if you step out in your beauty. He's afraid of what will become of his treachery if it becomes exposed by God's magnificent glory inside of you. 

He knows that men and women who know who they are and who they belong to are powerful. unstoppable. untouchable. 

I'm praying for you tonight, sweet stranger. I'm praying that you and I would take off those smocks of lies that we've been sporting for so long... and exchange them for the most breathtaking robes of strength and dignity. 

You carry a beauty that is worth pursuing, worth fighting for; a beauty that is core to who you truly are. Your beauty is seen. Your beauty is felt. Your beauty affects others. and your beauty is all yours to unveil. 

Claim that. Come out of that dressing room with confidence, precious girl. Offer your beauty to the world. 

You are loved, stranger. 

~Lyss

Chit Chat and Cheerleaders.

Last Saturday was a no good, awful, stressful, hurtful, hard day. All the way around. 

Until around 8:30 pm. 

I've talked a lot about my friends on this blog. There's Caitlin who got married this summer and Emma the photographer. There's Kaylin from junior high youth group and Lauren from my high school theatre days. I love them. 

There are some new (ish) little loves in my life. Cait and Soph. 

They are best friends. Cheerleaders. Dreamers. Brunettes. Teenagers. 

They love Jesus. They love people. They love them well. 

At 16 and 17 years old, they are passionate. they are kind. they are loyal. they are honest. they are growing. they are learning. 

Seven days ago, these two gems snagged me from the impending sadness and drove. I was blindfolded. 

They drove to the top of the world- my favorite place in my hometown. Some of my sweetest memories with friends and Jesus are there. It carries a special place in my heart. 

They took my blindfold off, climbed in the backseat and the three of us just watched our city. We watched the hustle and bustle of tiny cars and saw the twinkle of the lights. 

And then the words started. and for the next two hours, my heart was filled to the brim with encouragement, with hope, with truth. Those two sat next to me and somehow came up with enough loving words to fill almost 120 minutes. that's insane to me. I'm overwhelmed just thinking about it. 

We finished off the night praising Jesus together. He was beaming with joy. I know it. 

I've been thinking over the last week about what to say about this night. How to capture it. How to express my thankfulness for these two and praise Jesus for creating friendship and the ability to be authentic. 

I remember being 16. and 17 too, for that matter. It really wasn't all that long ago. I know that sometimes to reach the heart and mind of a teenager, you have to swim and smile through small talk, connect on insignificant issues, and feel our way through the pleasantries. 

But here's the deal: At times, I feel a strong revulsion to chit chat. Give me a girl who wants to sit and dig through the trenches and I'll stay up all night. Put me at a dinner with a group of small talkers, and I'll take my food to go. 

Not really. 

I don't take my food to go, because I like people. I love people, actually. And I'm pretty good at the small talk most of the time. 

Sometimes, I feel like my life is one long incessant session of small talk. and it starts to drain the life out of me. 

Small talk isn't bad or wrong, by any means! It just isn't my favorite. And the feeling I get when the small talk outweighs the real talk is similar to the feeling I get when I don't sit down and think about my intention, my longing, my desire. 

Consistently, throughout the Bible, Jesus asks, "What do you want me to do for you?" It wasn't a trick question and it cut right through every ounce of small talk. He looked straight into their eyes and asked them. "What is your desire?"

I have found it next to impossible to answer questions about where my heart is at when my soul is shaking at the edges from too much activity, too many voices. 

I am learning to quiet the critical voice and search out the secret place. I'm listening for the mysteries and the knowledge and the hope. 

... and I don't have to be afraid of what He reveals to me. What Jesus places within me, He wants to pour out of me. Not just for my benefit, but for yours, too. 

I long for the beauty and substance that comes with walking life with someone. Being in their presence, hearing their voice, hugging them close. I long for spacious conversation. I long for authenticity and honesty. I long for these things, even though it might be less convenient. Even though it might be less efficient. Even though it might hurt. 

... and then I realized something. 

Sweet Caitlin and Sophie... they knew that. 

and they did something about it. 

I have a deep desire to listen and understand what goes on behind the masks that people wear. I write and speak about vulnerability and authenticity all the time, and sometimes I'm still terrified to have people see what goes on behind my own masks. I long to embrace my own smallness, to quiet the competing voices in my head, and to truly listen.

We were made in the secret place. 

... and I think it's time to return there. 

To receive. To remember. To listen. 

Then we get to take all of that, and pour it back out. 

And that's exactly what these sweet girls did. They listened. They saw. They acted. 

What an incredible legacy they are leaving. At 16 and 17. 

Girls, thank you. I love you both. 

Your lives shout Jesus. 

I'm proud of you. 

Love, 

Lyss

Lauren Nicole.

I am a lover of words.

Obviously, this is not new information for most of you :) But I do. I love them. I love how they fit together and create beauty. There's so much life and depth to be discovered in words. I love them. 

But do you know what I love even more??

When someone else is able to communicate EXACTLY where my heart is at fifty billion times better than I ever could. 

Today, I read this: http://laurennicolelove.com/blog/the-new-heart/you-cant/

... and as I bawled my way through the post, my heart knew that it was exactly what I wanted to say today. 

Only Lauren did it beautifully, so I just get to immense privilege of passing it on to you.  

I hope your week is off to a wonderful start. 

Hugs and Love, 

Lyss

... because I still throw temper tantrums.

What happens when you wake up and realize that life is not quite what you imagined it would be? What happens when your deepest dreams and hopes and desires are not coming to fruition and you don't see how they ever will? What happens when you find yourself dealing with a temper tantrum... and it's your own?

Grown-up temper tantrums. They happen. They're probably not be the "throw yourself on the ground kicking and screaming" kind, though sometimes that sounds tempting. No. Grown-up temper tantrums are in a league of their own. They are manifested in all kinds of different ways. Sometimes really subtle ways. The emotional disconnect from loved ones. Checking out of reality. Angry isolation. Tears. 

It can be listening to lies that eventually leak into reality and threaten to skew what is true.

No matter how the tantrum manifests itself, they all speak something along the lines of: "I don't like this. This is NOT what I dreamed about, hoped for, planned out. So change it. Now!!"

I hate starting off my days with a bad attitude. 

... but that's exactly how today began. With a bad attitude, and a discouraged heart. 

I went to my morning class and came immediately home to sit with Jesus. 

And I've come to a conclusion. 

The cure for a temper tantrum: 

Surrender. 

Surrender to the perfect God who breathes stars into place and set the entire world into motion. The entire world. He is in complete control of my little world, too. 

Trust. 

Trust that God has my back and I every single thing I encounter is filtered through His heart of love for me... including difficulties. especially difficulties. 

Praise. 

This is my favorite one. and probably the easiest for me. I have a hard time surrendering. and I have an even harder time trusting. But praising? Praising is speaking, singing, dancing, writing my love for Jesus. I love Him. A lot. and I love telling people I love them. Especially my Father. 

Today, I'm just asking for grace to stay the course, even when it feels like I'm riding the same conflict wheel over and over again like a little hamster. It makes me want to scream. I'm asking for grace to stay the course when my decisions seem to be constantly questioned. I'm asking for grace to stay the course when I'm not really at the beginning and I'm definitely not at the end, but instead I find myself in the middle. Some days, it feels like an awfully long road trip with crappy music and no one in the car to reach the snacks in the backseat. 

My dad loved to take our family on trips when we were really little. My brother and I learned to be content in the car for LONG periods of time as babies. We were just used to it. and we've seen some pretty desolate places. We've been in the "middle of nowhere" more times than I can count. and when you're in the middle of nowhere, you just have to stay the course, trusting that your destination will eventually arrive. There are no pit stops. The road just stretches out unendingly before you and the landscape is engulfing. It seems barren. But I remember, even as a child, being enamored by the "nothingness." There was beauty there. There is beauty there. 

This "staying the course" time... could that be beautiful, too? When the landscape seems barren and desolate... and all I want to do is turn around or go a different way... maybe I should be asking for my eyes to be opened to the beauty to be found here. 

"I will make rivers flow on barren heights, and springs within the valleys. I will turn the desert into pools of water and parched ground into springs. I will put in the desert the cedar and the acacia, the myrtle, and the olive. I will set pines in the wasteland, the fir and the cypress together, so that people may see and know, may consider and understand, that the hand of the Lord has done this, that the Holy One has created it." Isaiah 41:18-19 is incredible. 

Yep. I'm in the middle of nowhere. Maybe you are, too. 

But there's hope. 

Because God's power is that much more majestic and overwhelming when it is showcased against a backdrop of barren and desolate landscape. 

So, I'll stay the course. and continue to fight the fight for total surrender and trust. 

Let's agree together that no matter the landscape, Jesus WILL turn the barrenness into beauty. 

He will, my friends, and it will knock our socks off. 

and when He does, let's rejoice together. 

Love to you, 

Lyss

"Let all that I am wait quietly before God, for my hope is in Him. He alone is my rock and my salvation, my fortress where I will not be shaken. My victory and honor come from God alone. He is my refuge, a rock where no enemy can reach me."