tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71175574749075411072024-02-06T20:06:27.689-06:00A Little Bit BraveLiving strong & courageous in an anxious worldHadley Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05822080269131988623noreply@blogger.comBlogger64125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7117557474907541107.post-18566344767029205372019-09-10T11:22:00.000-05:002019-09-10T11:23:31.765-05:00A Letter to My Suicidal Thoughts<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i><a href="https://soundcloud.com/hadley-grace-605102837/a-letter-tofrom-my-suicidal-thoughts">Audio recording of poem.</a></i><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<i>Trigger warning: suicidal thoughts.</i><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Dear Hadley,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">you screw up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">you broken wreck.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">you somehow have <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">the audacity to get up in the morning.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Dear Hadley,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">don’t get up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">sometimes, you remember what it’s like<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">to feel the sun<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">and feel rain<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">and feel like you want to keep going.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Dear Hadley,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Don’t keep going<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">maybe you don’t,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">but your skin remembers the name<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">of every blade that has crossed<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">your hands remember the steering wheel.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">your eyes recognize every overpass.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">your neck and fingertips are well acquainted<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">from checking your pulse and<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">trying to stop your pulse<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">the body keeps the score<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">and you are lit up with numbers<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">what happened to your arms, Hadley?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">what did you to your arms, Hadley?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">what have you done, Hadley?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Hadley, Hadley<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">say your name until it’s meaningless.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">turn out the lights<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">until you only see an exit sign.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">you can list your friends’ names<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">imagine your family’s tears<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">remember your therapist’s affirmations.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">none of it is enough to lift the weight,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Hadley,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">isn’t this weight unbearable?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Hadley,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">just let—</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Dear Suicide,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">you are not friend.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">you are not red exit sign.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">you are not getaway car.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">my palms remember<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">the hands that have held mine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">my scars are just scars.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">no, i cannot see all those beautiful reasons to live<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">i cannot see tomorrow<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">but a blind person doesn’t have to see stars<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">to know the sun exists.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">in training for a hiking trip,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">my friend did stair hops <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">with fifty pounds of textbooks on her back<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">i forgot what it’s like to walk without<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">fifty pounds of self-hate on my back<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">you are the weight on my back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Dear Hadley,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">you are just an emergency,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">a siren waiting to go off.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">just let it go off.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">you are broken.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">you are terminal.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">i can see your expiration date.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Dear Hadley,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">look at yourself, at your wrist.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">you are<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">victim,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">perpetrator,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">scene of the crime.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Dear Hadley,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">you are both ends of the weapon.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Dear Suicide,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">i am a human being.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">i bear the image of God<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">and the love of Christ.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">i am survivor.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">let the sirens go off because<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">that means help is on the way.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">i am asking for help<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Dear Suicide,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">you are the ugliest name i know<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">you are saltwater in mouth<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">promising satisfaction but ripping my body apart.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">i am in pieces.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Dear Suicide,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">i met you first through a friend.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">she didn’t speak your name<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">but you took the light from her eyes<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Dear Suicide,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">when she told us she tried to kill herself,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">a room full of kind hearts broke<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">under the weight of guilt,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">but Suicide,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">you are the monster <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">not her, not us, not me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Dear Hadley,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">you are not strong enough.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">you only kill me by killing yourself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">what makes you think you can<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">get out of this alive?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Dear Hadley,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Dear Scars,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Dear Broken—<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Dear Suicide,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">my name is Hadley Grace.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">my scars prove i am alive.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">these cracks are where the light shines through<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">and i am lighthouse<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">i am not strong enough,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">but my God is bigger than you,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">my body is still breathing,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">and you do not own my mind.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Dear Suicide,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">sometimes, i think you are<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">friend<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">exit sign<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">light at the end of the tunnel.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Dear Suicide,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">sometimes, i want you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">sometimes, i love you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Dear Hadley,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">i love you more.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "athelas";"><span style="font-family: inherit;">{</span><i style="font-family: inherit;">after the poet Daniel</i><i>’</i><i style="font-family: inherit;">s </i><i>“</i><i style="font-family: inherit;">A Letter to My Eating Disorder."</i><span style="font-family: inherit;">}</span></span></div>
Hadley Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05822080269131988623noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7117557474907541107.post-63546364349259193522019-08-12T18:11:00.000-05:002019-08-12T18:11:20.285-05:00What Happened to My Arms“I like what you wrote on your band-aid.”<br />
<br />
My face flushed. On my left hand, a band-aid read <i>worthy of love</i> in thick black sharpie. My coworker and friend tilted her head.<br />
<br />
“What happened, by the way?”<br />
<br />
***<br />
<br />
Last week, I went to one of my favorite coffee shops with one of my favorite people. Hannah is a dancer, singer, photographer, and one of the kindest people I know. Before we left, she pulled out her camera and snapped several shots of me. She edited them, and when she sent them, they fast became some of my favorite photos of myself.<br />
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<br />
In the photos, like in many others, you can clearly see several of the scars on my arms. Part of me hates that. Hates the red and white lines on my body. Hates the story they carry.<br />
<br />
But part of me sees hope in those scars. Because they are scars. All I have right now are scars. That means that the injuries are not new. And that’s a victory.<br />
<br />
I am learning that my scars are not my shame. It’s still hard, though, to wear shorts or tank-tops, or anything that doesn’t hit my ankles or fingertips.<br />
<br />
The first time I broke my own skin, I put on a band-aid and wrote “worthy of love” across it. My friend asked an innocent question, the thing you ask anytime you’re curious about someone’s band-aid. I looked down and mumbled something about scraping it or cutting an apple. Explained it as an accident.<br />
<br />
As the injuries increased in number, I came up with more excuses to tell people. I was climbing a tree. I have a playful cat. Eventually, all I could do was hide.<br />
<br />
Then my brother’s wedding came. I had a choice to make: be in the wedding and wear the dress I chose before all this started, or take a step back and wear something that covered more skin. I chose to be a bridesmaid.<br />
<br />
The entire time, I felt like an elephant in the room. No one asked, but I could guess that they had questions or assumptions. In truth, many people said I looked beautiful. That simple compliment means something more to me today.<br />
<br />
Beautiful, in spite of scars. Beautiful, with scars.<br />
<br />
***<br />
<br />
It’s hard to know what to say when you see someone with self-harm marks. Especially if the injuries are fresh. Honestly, I don’t really know what you <i>should</i> say. I’m not a mental health professional. But I can tell you what I’ve needed when fighting this battle:<br />
<br />
<i>How are you?/Are you okay?</i> Mean it when you ask it. Let us know you have compassion, not just pity. Be willing to co-suffer, with boundaries.<br />
<br />
<i>How can I help?</i> You might just get a flat “You can’t,” in response. But be present. Be available.<br />
<br />
If you’re not close to the person, reach out to someone who is. Let them know what your fears are about this person.<br />
<br />
If you think someone you know is suicidal, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255. Calling 911 may also be appropriate. Be careful about how you ask questions. Be gentle but honest. Consult <a href="https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/help-someone-else/">this article</a> for some more info.<br />
<br />
I’m so vastly unqualified to offer much advice, so please, do your research. Don’t make assumptions. Don’t judge. Compassion is one of the most important parts of dealing with this.<br />
<br />
<i>I’m glad you’re here. I love you. You deserve to take care of yourself. I’m here for you. I’m sorry you’re hurting. I’m not afraid of you. You deserve to get help.</i><br />
<br />
***<br />
<br />
If you’re wondering about me, thank you. I’m blessed to have support and help. If you’re struggling with this and want advice, feel free to reach out to me (@thehadleygrace on Insta and Twitter). I can’t offer solutions. I can’t decide to stop for you. But I can be present. I can be a voice that speaks love when all you hear is pain.<br />
<br />
I’m grateful for these photos, for the fact that my friend didn’t edit out this part of my story. Because she sees hope. She sees beauty.<br />
<br />
I was to remind all of us, whether or not you’ve struggled with self-injury, to remember what I wrote on my band-aid and what is tattooed on my side: <i>*worthy of love anyway.</i>Hadley Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05822080269131988623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7117557474907541107.post-70631713362118523302019-06-16T16:06:00.000-05:002019-06-16T16:06:21.638-05:00Sanctuary<h2>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Sanctuary</span></h2>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">it must be me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">the verses are there,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">this room is called “sanctuary” for a reason,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">with glass as stained as me<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">depicting a savior as anxious as me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">whom shall i fear?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">of whom shall i be afraid?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">i don’t know<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">and it’s not important.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">i’m still shaking<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">trying to be still and<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">no matter what<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">i don’t know who He is.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">God, you say that darkness is as light to you<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">but i can’t see my hands in front of my face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">i’m swimming in shadows,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">used the last of my oxygen cursing myself. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">and i’m afraid of what i’ll see if i turn on the lights<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">this sin demands payment in blood so i pour myself out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">i am the one who deserves these lines carved over and over<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">yet you are well acquainted with pain and panic<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">you have seen the earth you created stained with your fear<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">you are scarred with the reminder of all the weight you chose to carry<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">because somehow, you love me<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">you named the worthless worth dying for.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">now i look in the mirror, at ribs painted red with shame and inked black with grace,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">and i still can’t see the stars for the night<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">i am thirsty in a salt-water sea<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">if grace is an ocean, i am drowning<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">i have tasted and seen that the Lord is<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">gone. you redeemed me and sold me back<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">you forgave and gave away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">where is my identity when i can’t find you?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">where is your rescue when anxiety steals my cries for help?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">all i have are these answers<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">everything i used to know crumbling on the rocks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">all i have are these questions:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">how will i ever be enough?<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">but, Lord, i can see the glass<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">the image of you next to red-stained grass<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">you sweat blood so i wouldn’t have to </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; text-indent: 0.25in;">you are teaching me to sing in the dark</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-indent: 0.25in;">
<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">but this i know with all my heart<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: inherit;">his wounds have paid my ransom.</span><span style="font-family: Athelas;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
Hadley Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05822080269131988623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7117557474907541107.post-61629045657336151902019-05-20T21:53:00.000-05:002019-05-20T22:02:05.581-05:00To the Speech and Debaters Competing at My College This WeekDear Competitor,<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
You don’t know me, but I know you.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I know the debate boxes you pull across this windy campus. I know the heels that rub blisters into your pinkie toes and the speeches you deliver to the wall. I know the nerves and joy and community.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It’s been two years since I was you. I competed at my last tournament in March of 2017, my hands shaking and heart ready to leave behind the sport. I know that’s hard to hear when it’s something you love so much. I hope you won’t lose that love. This sport you participate in is fantastic. But be careful. Though I’m only a bit older than you, I hope you hear this advice.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Be grateful. Thank first your parents, who gladly take you around the state and country to do what you love because they love you. Thank your coaches, who take the incredible potential within you and refine it into skills that you’ll always use.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Thank your friends. This is such a special, strange place to make friends. Your similarities have brought you together. Your differences have the chance to keep you together. Acknowledge and celebrate the differences. Bring variety into a sport that’s filled with identical suits.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Remember that the knowledge is good, but wisdom is better. You can be the best debater, but people will remember the encourager. Lift up your friends before you compete against them.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Speaking of competition: keep it in the rounds. As soon as the timer beeps after the last speech, as soon as the judge leaves the room, you are just teenagers, not debaters or speechers. Become friends. While you have competition in common, the first thing you have is Christ. You’ll hear that at every tournament, and you’ll read the verses posted all over this campus. Don’t take that for granted.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Have fun! Practice duos in front of your friends, explore the corners of this gorgeous campus, pass notes with your debate partner and opponents during rounds.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
With friendships, especially at your age, it’s so easy to fall into drama. There’s little chance to completely avoid it, but I have some experience dealing with it. I’ve made mistakes and learned from those. The first tip? Avoid gossip. If you talk about someone behind their back, it’d better be positive or about the surprise party you’re throwing for them. Forgive when someone hurts you. And if you’ve hurt someone, intentionally or not, <i>apologize</i>. Those are two of the hardest lessons I’m still learning.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Remember that you’re all just humans. Humans aren’t perfect--not even Christian homeschool speech and debaters. Jesus was perfect so you wouldn’t have to be. Don’t put that pressure on yourself or on anyone else around you. Give grace because you have been given grace.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Enjoy this time. Don’t burn yourself out. If your printer starts malfunctioning, it may be a sign that you need to take a break.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Use this time to grow closer to God and to the people around you. Learn and grow up and be a teenager. Don’t do stupid stuff, but if you do, make sure that stupid stuff isn’t hurting anyone else.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
You’re a speech and debater, but you won’t always be. Find your identity in Christ first. Never in wins and losses, never in trophies. You are far more valuable than that.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
You don’t know me, but I know you.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I know the thrills and sorrows, the friendships and heartbreaks. I came in first place and I came in dead last. Your world won’t always be speech and debate, but it’s still important. Treat it well. Be known by your love. Serve others as though they are better than yourself.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
You are enough, you are enough, you are enough.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Vote affirmative, because this time is too short to focus on the negatives.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Your friend,</div>
<div>
Hadley Grace<br />
<br />
<i>|| <a href="https://kitkatsimpromptu.blogspot.com/2018/03/to-speech-and-debaters-competing-at-my.html">A version of this letter</a> first appeared on my old speech and debate blog, <a href="https://kitkatsimpromptu.blogspot.com/">Kitkats and Impromptu</a>. ||</i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSMMYHJMS_UXgH-DTSz9ilMM5jwdJlqeNkUn57oU55Lu9fKFi96-AQY2JaQqPo_xDBA0ylspDJjAuIMFACgA45-z7xMmaWwlMaeAkPRt6zpWOrxQgk8-Wm07ansUP63_kbwSPUxS7IbJs/s1600/speech+and+debate+hads.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="392" data-original-width="353" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSMMYHJMS_UXgH-DTSz9ilMM5jwdJlqeNkUn57oU55Lu9fKFi96-AQY2JaQqPo_xDBA0ylspDJjAuIMFACgA45-z7xMmaWwlMaeAkPRt6zpWOrxQgk8-Wm07ansUP63_kbwSPUxS7IbJs/s320/speech+and+debate+hads.jpg" width="288" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">li'l speech and debate Hads</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYhyphenhyphenvK9lPwWwE2L-r-6EkroWkDAJnzDVqm4YWz8BLwUVxAu2ZDWXCcI3UDC9JfOwFeCPN_XlWi5qFLsiW2HG62DKl8t4RSbdnLrUNvBi2HPVcplKsgp-Sr9epQk6iuFpbfqba81eXWGzE/s1600/senior+hads.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYhyphenhyphenvK9lPwWwE2L-r-6EkroWkDAJnzDVqm4YWz8BLwUVxAu2ZDWXCcI3UDC9JfOwFeCPN_XlWi5qFLsiW2HG62DKl8t4RSbdnLrUNvBi2HPVcplKsgp-Sr9epQk6iuFpbfqba81eXWGzE/s320/senior+hads.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">high school junior Hads visiting DBU</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPsUlFnKkpW7AoeSqxNdntkg0pCYqq3POzQe4NHJjYjhKxug6ogrGaTNyKZiGz_3mzLLqbCpItdGhXv_5Td08o0H7Uwm5AINoFVOLsUX77OFtvieY27L0sdLkD3OuO97PW0Lsy-EaBhWY/s1600/lil+freshie+hads.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPsUlFnKkpW7AoeSqxNdntkg0pCYqq3POzQe4NHJjYjhKxug6ogrGaTNyKZiGz_3mzLLqbCpItdGhXv_5Td08o0H7Uwm5AINoFVOLsUX77OFtvieY27L0sdLkD3OuO97PW0Lsy-EaBhWY/s320/lil+freshie+hads.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">college freshman Hads having a glow up</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCI4dm_6QOo2_hF4raFLE7f_tqdHIWHzauTsXeTOgCYjCHsFvOKw9wOSbqor_E0wUu8Cyir9SRnzOpmD4M58LJWVBZBf8ovI0esFFCiLPlcwRVp3vUcAktes5ra3d1msnECeVOjGI8u2s/s1600/serious+hads.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCI4dm_6QOo2_hF4raFLE7f_tqdHIWHzauTsXeTOgCYjCHsFvOKw9wOSbqor_E0wUu8Cyir9SRnzOpmD4M58LJWVBZBf8ovI0esFFCiLPlcwRVp3vUcAktes5ra3d1msnECeVOjGI8u2s/s320/serious+hads.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">sophomore Hads after doing a poem, <br />
prepared by years of speech and debate</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br />
<i><br /></i></div>
Hadley Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05822080269131988623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7117557474907541107.post-87295502337406240122019-04-29T10:52:00.001-05:002019-05-20T22:02:16.830-05:00You Are Alive.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<i>I’m glad you were born. </i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<i>I’m glad you are alive. </i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<i>I want you to stay alive. </i></div>
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<br /></div>
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These are the words we mean when we say, “Happy Birthday.”</div>
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<br /></div>
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Today I turn 20. It’s weird because I wasn’t sure I’d make it this far. And I know so many others aren’t sure if they’ll make it to their next birthday. Some of you aren’t sure if you’ll make it to next week. You’ve stopped making plans, stopped looking forward to graduation, the end of the semester, the end of the week.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Friend, you are alive. You have fought so hard to make it here.</div>
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<br /></div>
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And I know it doesn’t feel like you’re fighting, but the fact that you are here proves that feeling wrong. Life hurts and it seems like the hurt will never give way to joy. It seems like you’ll never feel alive again. Please trust me when I say <i>you will feel alive again.</i> There will be moments that you <i>want</i> to be alive. You’re not out of time.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://twloha.com/blog/world-suicide-prevention-day-2018-tomorrow-needs-you/">Tomorrow needs you</a>. There are songs you will listen to and love, hands you will hold, sunrises you will wake up for. There are people who love you and want you to stay. You are a friend, not a problem. There are people who want to help you.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Ask for help.</div>
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There are friends and counselors and <a href="https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/">lifelines</a> and <a href="http://www.crisistextline.org/">text lines</a>. You can get the help you need today. Don’t wait. </div>
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<br /></div>
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If you need someone to talk to, you can find me on Twitter or Instagram as @thehadleygrace. The National Suicide Prevention Lifeline number is <span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0 , 0 , 0 , 0.870588);"><span style="font-family: inherit;">1-800-273-8255. You can text HOME to 741741.</span></span></div>
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Who you are is enough. You are worthy of love no matter what. </div>
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You are alive. I’m glad you were born. I want you to stay alive.</div>
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Stay alive.</div>
Hadley Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05822080269131988623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7117557474907541107.post-76321648423989616102019-04-25T11:23:00.001-05:002019-04-25T11:23:34.654-05:00Colorado Time<div class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #454545;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">i point to the line of trees and say<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="color: #454545;">we can stop there.</span></i><span style="color: #454545;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #454545;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">she says<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="color: #454545;">we can keep going.</span></i><span style="color: #454545;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #454545;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">this week, i did not want to hurt myself.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #454545;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">i say <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="color: #454545;">i’ve finally reached the other side</span></i><span style="color: #454545;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #454545;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">she says<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="color: #454545;">we can keep going.</span></i><span style="color: #454545;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #454545;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">it is warm outside and i take off my flannel;<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #454545;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">i am wearing short sleeves underneath.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #454545;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">she is not afraid.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #454545;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">she has never been afraid of me.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #454545;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">today, recovery is yoga mats and coffee mugs and hiking a mountain.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #454545;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">more than that,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #454545;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">recovery is discovering that i can go so much further that I believe.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #454545;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">maybe this is what it means to be alive.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #454545;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">spring comes late here.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #454545;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">maybe i am on colorado time.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #454545;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">april is almost over and i am still thawing out,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #454545;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">but this weekend reminds me that snow and sun can live in the same month.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #454545;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">maybe being alive is more than waiting for life to happen.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #454545;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">maybe getting better is more than having answers for every question.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #454545;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">maybe becoming who i am meant to be is more than figuring stuff*<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>out.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #454545;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">looking out over boulder,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #454545;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">i ask if she was healed by<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #454545;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">mountain air and cooking meals.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #454545;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">she says no.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #454545;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">there is no cure.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #454545;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">there is time and words and love.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #454545;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">there is self-care when self-care isn’t pretty,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #454545;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">when it’s a fight.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #454545;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">it is singing until we believe<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #454545;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">and singing again for someone else.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #454545;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">i wonder if i will ever get there<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #454545;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">if i have anything to look forward to. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #454545;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">but this week, i wanted to take a shower.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #454545;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">i wanted to get out of bed.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #454545;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">i wanted to write until my words turned into songs.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="color: #454545; font-family: inherit;">and </span><span style="color: #454545;">I</span><span style="color: #454545; font-family: inherit;"> say,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="color: #454545;">we can keep going.</span></i><span style="color: #454545;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="color: #454545;"><br /></span></i></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #454545; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCh0AHKPFh593_5aXH5KGEqSB4n1o5-Om5m99uvF6msW5is1jtoll20G_q_vYYPEbuzq5-eqxifp2hyIZbRMi9OUuz2m1rKT7oNeX-QiDlR2E88OZB3Gzu2IZBsZWzG6eMGShvshDM8k0/s1600/IMG_0637.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1201" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCh0AHKPFh593_5aXH5KGEqSB4n1o5-Om5m99uvF6msW5is1jtoll20G_q_vYYPEbuzq5-eqxifp2hyIZbRMi9OUuz2m1rKT7oNeX-QiDlR2E88OZB3Gzu2IZBsZWzG6eMGShvshDM8k0/s400/IMG_0637.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="color: #454545;"><br /></span></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
</div>
Hadley Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05822080269131988623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7117557474907541107.post-68020859956608985732019-04-16T12:51:00.000-05:002019-04-25T09:44:42.226-05:00grace || a poem<div class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">(friday morning, april 12)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: inherit;">6:00am is soft and grey and music</span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: inherit;">a morning without pressure,</span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: inherit;">only to breathe and be</span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: inherit;">present. Rain and spring are tied together</span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: inherit;">here. But I know:</span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: inherit;">a harsh winter doesn’t promise a mild summer. </span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: inherit;">As the cold in my bones thaws,</span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: inherit;">no one can promise easy.</span></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 20.3px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Meredith sings along and</span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: inherit;">maybe this is grace—</span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: inherit;">daring to sing before sunrise.</span></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 20.3px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: inherit;">There is no perfection here.</span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: inherit;">This is so much more.</span></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 20.3px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Here is songs in the dark</span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: inherit;">with rattle heartbeats,</span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: inherit;">holding each other with earthquake hands</span></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 20.3px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The storms and</span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: inherit;">the drought and</span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: inherit;">the ice come, and </span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: inherit;">most of the time I don’t understand.</span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The older I get,</span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: inherit;">the more confused I am.</span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: inherit;">How is this God’s will for me?</span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Where is hope when I’m not sure I want a future?</span></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 20.3px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: inherit;">But here is morning and coffee</span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: inherit;">with struggle turned pretty</span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: inherit;">by facing the dawn.</span></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; min-height: 20.3px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="s1"></span><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: inherit;">And no, I don’t know how to keep going.</span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I don’t know how to say “I love you” without stuttering</span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: inherit;">or if I will every truly feel the sun again.</span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: inherit;">But I am trying,</span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: inherit;">and today I know</span></span></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1"><span style="font-family: inherit;">this is enough.</span></span></div>
Hadley Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05822080269131988623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7117557474907541107.post-59995778455067599782019-04-11T13:06:00.000-05:002019-04-11T13:06:50.450-05:00Finding Faith in the Middle of Doubt<i>Remember who God is, who He has shown Himself to be to you. How has God shown Himself to you?</i><br />
<br />
My friends sat on either of the table, their attention trained on me. I wished we were in a dorm room lit by fairy lights, sitting on the floor with finals to worry about. Cafeterias don’t have the same level of comfort or aesthetic. I wished we could go back in time, to when I lived across the hall or in the same dorm as these friends.<br />
<br />
But here? I could barely remember that time. My memory was narrowed to the last three weeks. And the last three weeks were not good. In the last three weeks, I couldn’t see very many reasons to keep going. As those three weeks stretched into five months, there were moments I couldn’t see any reasons to keep going.<br />
<br />
I knew a lot of Bible verses. One stuck out, glaring and obnoxious: Jeremiah 29:11. Now, I’m not one to drag the Bible, seeing as how I believe in it. I know that God knows the plans He has for me, plans for a hope and a future. All that good stuff.<br />
<br />
I trip up, though, when I hear that. A future? Sure. A future and <i>a hope?</i> I doubt it.<br />
<br />
The last year has been outlined by doubt. In my nearly 20 years of going-to-church experience, I haven’t experienced a lot of talk about doubt. Maybe that’s why, when I started to feel it, I thought there was something wrong with me.<br />
<br />
I’ve been reading Psalms a lot lately. There’s a lot of doubt in Psalms. Lots of “O Lord, why have you forgotten me?” and “I’m eating my own tears” and “My soul is downcast like, all the time.” And not every psalm ends with “...but God is faithful.”<br />
<br />
And yeah. God is faithful. God is faithful. God is--<br />
<br />
Kind of confusing sometimes.<br />
<br />
The Bible contains promises of peace and hope and rest. That seems great until life happens. Life happens and I get anxious and hopeless and tired. Life happens and I wonder where God even is and why He left me here.<br />
<br />
<i>Here I raise my Ebenezer,</i><br />
<i>Hither by thy help I’ve come.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
“Ebenezer” is the name of the monument the prophet Samuel put up to memorialize a victory against the Philistines (1 Samuel 7). The Israelites did stuff like this a lot. This particular rock was named <i>stone of help.</i> Samuel calls it this, saying, “Thus far the <span style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; font-variant-caps: small-caps;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Lord</span></span> has helped us” (7:12).<br />
<br />
That night in the cafeteria, my friend wrote in my notebook: “Remember who God is, who He has shown Himself to be to you.”<br />
<br />
<i>Remember.</i> When our present is confusing and God seems absent, <i>remember.</i> Intentionally look for how God has been present in our past. This isn’t the cure for doubt, but I think it is the safeguard of faith.<br />
<br />
The Israelites kind of sucked at remembering. I kind of do too.<br />
<br />
I haven’t trusted God very much in the last several months. Going into church or chapel, my anxiety would spike. Everyone else could sing the songs and read the verses and believe. I could barely get my voice out of my throat, could barely open my Bible. But each time a song started and I thought “I’m not sure I believe that’s true,” I remembered <a href="https://chasingthefathersheart.wordpress.com/2018/10/10/twenty-three-ideas-for-chapters-in-a-book-i-will-never-write/">something another friend said in a poem</a>:<br />
<br />
<i>Maybe I’m alone in this, but when it comes to my circumstances I think I pray for delivery before I pray for your glory, Lord. / And even more? / I often find it hard to align the belief that God has a future and a hope for me. / So sometimes we just sing until we believe.</i><br />
<br />
This wasn’t an attempt to stifle doubt, but to face it.<br />
<br />
I don’t like getting my hopes up because I don’t like getting disappointed. I sing about how God is "never gonna let me down” while mentally listing all the times God has let me down. But if I think about it a little longer, I start remembering. I remember how God was good in the bad. How He protected me. How He provided for me.<br />
<br />
And now. I long for Him to show up again. I write a lot of poetry. I like metaphors, I guess. But they get pretty exhausting when that’s the only thing anyone has to offer. I’m tired of metaphors about fire and darkness and storms. I just to know how God is here. Actually here. Actually doing something.<br />
<br />
But I don’t think we’re supposed to focus on what God does.<br />
<br />
<i>Remember who God is, who He has shown Himself to be to you. How has God shown Himself to you?</i><br />
<div>
<i><br /></i></div>
I think we need to remember who God is.<br />
<br />
I don’t think we always need God to <i>do</i> something.<br />
<br />
<b>I think we need God</b>.<br />
<br />
In our worst moments, the Lord doesn’t always choose to fix the situation. He desires closeness with us. Yeah, He does amazing, miraculous things. But why? To bring Himself glory and to show us love. A lot of the time, love is best displayed in simple presence, in God teaching us to depend on Him, in Jesus reminding us that <b>all we need is Him.</b><br />
<br />
<i>And look forward to who He will prove Himself to be tomorrow & the day after.</i><br />
<br />
This is faith. Remember and look forward. Choosing these things when doubt is suffocating. Singing until I believe. Desiring Jesus and not just what Jesus can do for me.<br />
<br />
Here I raise my Ebenezer. The Lord has helped me up to this point.<br />
<br />
I will remember.<br />
<br />
I will believe.Hadley Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05822080269131988623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7117557474907541107.post-22565009856104602532019-04-03T02:46:00.001-05:002019-04-03T02:48:29.442-05:00You Don’t Trust God EnoughSometimes, I read my old blog posts, and I’m like “dang, she’s wise.”<br />
<br />
When I was in high school, <b>I was really good at church.</b> In small groups, I was the one who read books and Bible passages. I gave input and advice that impressed youth leaders. I had a scripture for every problem my friends had. And it was genuine. I shared from my heart. I didn’t have a secret double life.<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
Tonight, as a sophomore in college, I went to a church small group. I looked at the passage we went over in group, and fear rose in my throat. For awhile, I focused on what we were talking about. But as time went on, my anxiety grew. I squeezed the hell out of my stress eggs, curled in on myself. The other girl, one of the group leaders, asked what I got out of the text. My mouth went dry. I didn’t want to share. I didn’t want anyone looking at me. I wanted to leave.<br />
<br />
After managing to spit out a sentence, I went back to the swirling thoughts in my head. It didn’t help that we were talking about anxiety and how it’s a sign of a lack of trust in God.<br />
<br />
<i>You’re not good enough. </i><i>Your anxiety is a sin.</i><i> </i><i>You don’t trust God enough.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
When I got back home, I wanted to break down. Those memories of high school small groups came back up. Even last year, when I was in a discipleship/living program, I always had something to share in Bible study. <i>I was good,</i> I think as I scan old blog posts. <i>I used to be so good.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
For almost a year, church has been a source of anxiety for me. Just writing that, a wave of shame washes over me. Even on occasions when I feel the presence of God, I still feel anxious. The worst part? Church used to be the place I felt most at home, where I felt the most peace.
<br />
<br />
I like having the answers. I still have a lot of scriptural knowledge. I can still give my friends wise advice. There’s a line in <a href="https://soundcloud.com/hadley-grace-605102837/lightning">a poem I wrote</a> that goes, <i>I have all the right answers / and everything else.</i> I still have those answers, but I have some more baggage too. After praying all the right prayers, singing all the right songs, reading all the right verses...I still have anxiety and depression. At some point, I stopped believing any of those things would help. I stopped believing God would help.<br />
<br />
From the outside, my faith looks weaker than it was two years ago. The reality is that my <b>faith is stronger now</b>.<br />
<br />
This strength doesn’t show up in speaking out in Bible studies. This faith has been growing in my silence. In small decisions for my health. In choosing to believe in God’s character even when my experience seems to contradict Him.<br />
<br />
When I was younger, I could find lessons in my difficult experiences. The last five months have been the most difficult of my life. Most days, I see failures, not teaching moments. But one thing I have learned about myself is that <i>I don’t want to be good at church anymore.</i> I want to be <b>real</b>.<br />
<br />
I struggle to believe that God loves me, but I choose to act like He does.<br />
<br />
I can barely open my Bible without experiencing waves of accusation, but I open my Bible anyway.<br />
<br />
I don’t know if God has a future and a hope for me, but I know that Christ is enough for me.<br />
<br />
Worship music sometimes gives me anxiety. I’m still singing. Don’t tell me I don’t trust God enough because I have anxiety. I want to pray and read my Bible more, not to fix my suffering, but to know Christ better.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white;"><b><span style="font-family: inherit;">|| "Yes, everything else is worthless when compared with the infinite value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have discarded everything else, counting it all as garbage, so that I could gain Christ.</span>”<span style="font-family: inherit;"> -Philippians 3:8 ||</span></b></span></div>
<br />
Even when I can’t see past tomorrow.<br />
Even when anxiety keeps me silent.<br />
Even when I have to drag myself out of bed.<br />
Even when my identity is shaken.<br />
Even when trust seems like a mistake.<br />
Even when I want to give up.<br />
<br />
God is with me even when.Hadley Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05822080269131988623noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7117557474907541107.post-80207308902999279522019-01-13T07:57:00.000-06:002019-01-13T16:35:50.895-06:00Why I Write Poetry<span style="font-family: inherit;">sometimes i wonder why i write. when i get to the end of poems, i usually just feel more emotional. i wonder why i have such a strong desire to share my poems with other people. what’s the point? it can’t be beauty, because these poems are storms, rarely sun showers. this art isn’t about wrapping my experiences and emotions in pretty metaphors and hoping someone gets impressed with the result. i carry a flashlight in the dark, praying that if i am not scared by my own shadows, someone else might join me here, and i won’t be alone anymore. maybe that’s all anyone wants. to find someone unafraid of the darkest shadows.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />sometimes i think poetry is hiding, using metaphors to give the illusion of vulnerability. perhaps the truth is that poetry is that flashlight. i start with my own shadows, letting the light find me. and when the light shines, you know that you’re not alone. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />there are a lot of reasons i write poetry, but the reason i share it is so that you know you’re not alone. vulnerability leads to connection. that’s more powerful than any metaphor or spoken word delivery or publishing house.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />i used to want to get in front of people and say “look at how far i’ve come.” now i want to say “look at how far i have to go.” so that you know you’re not alone, that your story is powerful, that you have a voice. use it. you never know who needs to hear it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />i know i want to hear it. please. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />use your voice. even in the shadows.</span>Hadley Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05822080269131988623noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7117557474907541107.post-86270520348266608562018-10-21T17:03:00.000-05:002019-04-01T14:36:31.108-05:00lightning || a poem.<i style="font-family: georgia, serif;"><a href="https://soundcloud.com/hadley-grace-605102837/lightning">live recording of poem.</a></i><br />
<i style="font-family: georgia, serif;"><br /></i>
<i style="font-family: georgia, serif;">last year, </i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><i>I</i></span><i style="font-family: georgia, serif;"> got the pleasure of coming to inspired poet, and I heard a poet speak. and one of the things that she said was that we need to use our voices even if we</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><i>’</i></span><i style="font-family: georgia, serif;">re afraid and even if it</i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><i>’</i></span><i style="font-family: georgia, serif;">s just a whisper. and I have a friend and mentor who has told me that </i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><i>I</i></span><i style="font-family: georgia, serif;"> have something to say. and in our first session, my counselor told me, he reminded me that nobody has everything together.</i><br />
<i style="font-family: georgia, serif;"><br /></i>
<i style="font-family: georgia, serif;">these are the things I want to tell you. and this is my whisper.</i><br />
<i style="font-family: georgia, serif;"><br /></i>
<i style="font-family: georgia, serif;">________________________________</i><br />
<i style="font-family: georgia, serif;"><br /></i>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">here is the finished product</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">on fluorescent light display</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">you can see all the right brushstrokes</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">from behind a measured line</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">put on a platform because</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">this is finished, i swear</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">it is perfect</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"> perfect</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"> perfect</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">a masterpiece on display because</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">i know all the right places to</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">hide. it is easier to</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">hide. it is safer to </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">hide behind layers of dishonest truth</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">i am okay</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> okay</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> okay</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">a lie told often enough becomes the paint</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">i brush on layers of half-truths until they turn to hues of</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">this is too good to touch</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">don’t cross this line</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">you will damage the image so carefully crafted</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">you will see what this impressionist courage is made of</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">layers of afraid</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> afraid</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> afraid</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">and i am dying</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">for these lights to go out.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">_________</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">one time, i almost got struck by lightning</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">pitch black storm floods white</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">electricity strips away every hiding place i told myself was</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">safe. exposed and drowning</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">in the downpour i am surrounded by thunder</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">screaming shame</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> shame</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> shame</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">and i can’t run away</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">so i stand up under spotlights and say</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">look at how far i have come and</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">you won’t see how far i have to go</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">you won’t see through these white-washed walls</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">you won’t see the water in my lungs</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">_________</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">please don’t interrupt to</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">tell me it’s okay</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">i’m</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"> not</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">okay</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">_________</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">i live on the tip of my tongue</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">walking on eggshells</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">no one else can see</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">i can’t—</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">there’s never—</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">words are—</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">i’m not good</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">with words</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">i leave them sitting in my mouth</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">until i can’t swallow</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">and they all spill out until</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">i’m drowning in my own</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">worst nightmare</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">_________</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">my hands have been shaking for two years</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">a physical symptom of fear</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">an acute reminder if i am still </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">for a single moment </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">i</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"> am not </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">safe i wish i was</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">safe. what is it like to be</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">safe when everything falls apart?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">i am reaching out to flip a switch</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">to rewrite the script</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">to get a grip on something that will</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">make these hands more than</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">measure of what i fail to fight</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">but my fingers slip and </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">I</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">lose control for one second but maybe</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">broken glass is louder than a voice i can’t bear to</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">raise and this black and blue paint</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">screams louder than my whispers</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">and maybe if you see the edges you can say</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">it’s real</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> real</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> real</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">do i even know what’s real?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">_________</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">when you breathe in, you get</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">oxygen and everything else</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">gets filtered out, exhaled</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">sometimes i think i can’t do that second part</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">i breathe in too deep</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">too quick</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">i get oxygen</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">and everything else</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">i have all the right answers</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">and everything else</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">every thought louder than the truth</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">every urge to punish the one at fault</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">this is all my fault</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">after all, i should have</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">thought of that eight months ago</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">because by now it is too late</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">how can i fix the problem</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">when the problem is me?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">_________</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">i wait for answers </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">like the moon waits for sunrise</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">lost in the return of light </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">that’s only ever reflected</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">maybe i was always meant to be a</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">mirror</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">in these broken shards</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">i will finally see</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">i will finally hear</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">i will finally believe what’s</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">true.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">_________</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">my hands have been shaking for two years</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">but i will not stop using them to</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">write until </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">I</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"> see</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">the light of dawn</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">to paint in permanent ink</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">you are enough</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">i am enough</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"> enough</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"> enough</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">and worthy of love anyway.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: 16px;">_________</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNrb4KA06iEapXXph8s08WHEOfdmnFLJ9qLb2UNGvgScCk-8z5ZijiztZmdE5polokbRUit7-9-KGv1fCt9laGhd6uwLqJ5bs7vtbiI8whY5zjjpDxXiKVdW7RsGv3NLOscE_4omFd-40/s1600/IMG_0510.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNrb4KA06iEapXXph8s08WHEOfdmnFLJ9qLb2UNGvgScCk-8z5ZijiztZmdE5polokbRUit7-9-KGv1fCt9laGhd6uwLqJ5bs7vtbiI8whY5zjjpDxXiKVdW7RsGv3NLOscE_4omFd-40/s320/IMG_0510.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">what a night.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></span>
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Hadley Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05822080269131988623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7117557474907541107.post-86476859381323017182018-05-14T16:21:00.000-05:002018-05-14T16:21:00.760-05:00When Perfect Isn’t Enough<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8ZUrCJxtwcHM3cdW65ic8WuwA8ZBeUJ5-rfO_b9MBjwXJe2PpMUyFowaLfCnVnGrwhKoGMf0PAfKX35Uf_lMDNePp-dQ3a7PqZfAoNDq9O5acwEJLfNtXQb1KsKlkdXrCmWLEwYK_wIs/s1600/when+perfect+isn%25E2%2580%2599t+enough.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="501" data-original-width="700" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8ZUrCJxtwcHM3cdW65ic8WuwA8ZBeUJ5-rfO_b9MBjwXJe2PpMUyFowaLfCnVnGrwhKoGMf0PAfKX35Uf_lMDNePp-dQ3a7PqZfAoNDq9O5acwEJLfNtXQb1KsKlkdXrCmWLEwYK_wIs/s400/when+perfect+isn%25E2%2580%2599t+enough.png" width="400" /></a></div>
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<b><span id="goog_360490472"></span><span id="goog_360490473"></span><br /></b>
<b>Perfectionist</b> is not a word I would have used to describe myself.<br />
<br />
Maybe that’s what should’ve told me that was exactly what I was. You see, I knew that I wasn’t called or supposed or able to be perfect. So, I denied that that was what I was striving for. I wanted excellence in everything, I wanted to make the most of my college education, I wanted to have it all in its exact place.<br />
<br />
Perfection is easy when you can hide, when you can locate the nearest exit. If you say just the right thing, you can lie while telling the truth. At the very least, you can talk about hard parts, the weak spots, and the pain in a way that makes it seem like you’re walking out of it and don’t need any help.<br />
<br />
I didn’t want to be <b>weak</b>. I spent this semester feeling weaker than ever. I kept writing fiction and poetry because it’s easier to hide behind the words of a character, easier to hide behind metaphor than actually say concrete words for myself. In real life, I mumbled because I couldn’t believe my words were worth hearing. I filled a journal with the assurance that God was the only one reading the fear and single-thread faith.<br />
<br />
I knew the verses. I knew the answers. I could give them to anyone within earshot. But I couldn’t hear my own voice. I didn’t feel even a little bit brave. I couldn’t see myself.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://thehadleygrace.blogspot.com/2017/12/what-2017-means-to-me.html">Last December</a>, I wrote here that 2017 <a href="http://thehadleygrace.blogspot.com/2017/08/when-you-cant-keep-going.html">meant climbing</a>. So far, 2018 has felt like slipping. I did all the right things--attended and served at church, kept my grades up, went to chapel and Bible study, had daily personal time with God. But I was still afraid and anxious. And I didn’t want anyone to know.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b>|| “I could ask the darkness to hide me </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b>and the light around me to become night—</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b>but even in darkness I cannot hide from you. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b>To you the night shines as bright as day. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b>Darkness and light are the same to you.” || </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><b>Psalm 139:11-12</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
Perfection is easy when you can hide. But there was One from whom I could not hide.<br />
<br />
Perfectionism pulled this last semester into a valley. I did not believe that anything I did was good enough if it was less than perfect. If I wasn’t perfect, I wasn’t worthy of love or acceptance, not from anyone. My fears and failures were all my fault and I deserved the hurt. The weight of every decision was a punishment I felt I earned. I was afraid of not being afraid, because I <i>needed</i> to be anxious. I needed to be good enough, and I couldn’t be good enough if I was hyperaware of every single action and word. So I didn’t speak.<br />
<br />
This year, I lived in a dorm that was part discipleship program you have to apply for. The housing, called pods, are like a mix of a dorm and an apartment, and I lived with six other girls. In April, ours was the tour pod, which meant that whenever girls toured campus and wanted to see what the program looked like, they came to our pod.<br />
<br />
Because we were the tour pod, we had to make sure our rooms and bathrooms and living room were clean, especially the Saturday our school had a preview day. For three hours, groups of high school girls and their families came through where I had been living for almost nine months. I sat doing homework in the corner of our living room, answering questions they had and trying to seem as put-together as my dorm room.<br />
<br />
And then they left.<br />
<br />
My roommates went to their rooms and took showers or naps. And I closed the front door, turned off the fluorescent lights, because my life was no longer on display for people who may’ve wanted to give it a try in a few months. It is just a life.<br />
<br />
<b>Your life is just a life.</b><br />
<br />
My friend, you do not have to be perfect. It is okay to not be okay. Weakness is your honor, not your shame. I will not tell you to “stay strong” because we never were. You are not a display of perfection.<br />
<br />
I keep coming back to Psalm 23. Not the stale, tasteless version embroidered on pillows, but the real life truth:<br />
<br />
<i><b><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Even when I walk </span></b></i><br />
<i><b><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> through the darkest valley,</span></b></i><br />
<i><b><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">I will not be afraid</span></b></i><br />
<b><i><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> for you are close beside me</span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;">Your rod and your staff</span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"> protect and comfort me.</span></i></b><br />
<br />
You are not a display of perfection. You are safe. You do not need strife, only grace upon grace.<br />
<br />
I have not figured everything out. I am still hiking. But I can see the sun through the trees. Even though I can’t see the peak, I will make it to the next spot I can see. I will take a drink of water and a deep breath, and I will walk. I am with the One who fully knows and fully loves me, and I am safe. Even here, I will worship Him because <i>He is still good.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<b>|| “Each time He said, ‘My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness.’ So now I am glad to boast about my weaknesses , so that the power of Christ can work through me [...] For when I am weak, then I am strong.” II Cor 12:9-10 ||</b>Hadley Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05822080269131988623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7117557474907541107.post-87400353601318801522018-01-10T11:12:00.003-06:002019-04-18T11:51:00.039-05:00It Was My Sin That Held Him There<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><br /></span></i></span>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4uyiZdxbFzvVDgmCKDXl7bd-KwgaZeVTslS7-wmERPS4i-PuPX29HQ6WrxP9gaQOokKsbt88XjsfWGGxhSvVHRclsCUUc3dZ4VKchWAtOgzAo_bveXb7PKrBF624sYZ_HjhnKlEWn_VE/s1600/cross.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="800" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4uyiZdxbFzvVDgmCKDXl7bd-KwgaZeVTslS7-wmERPS4i-PuPX29HQ6WrxP9gaQOokKsbt88XjsfWGGxhSvVHRclsCUUc3dZ4VKchWAtOgzAo_bveXb7PKrBF624sYZ_HjhnKlEWn_VE/s320/cross.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V1aeehlfpr4">Listen.</a></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><br /></span></i></span>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">How deep the Father's love for us</span></i></span></h3>
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<i style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">How vast beyond all measure</span></i></h3>
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<i style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">That He should give His only Son</span></i></h3>
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<i style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">To make a wretch His treasure</span></i></h3>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">Four-hundred years of silence.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">The Jewish people went through wars and conquests and bondage. They struggled to understand the purpose of the Law. They struggled to see God in the waiting.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">And here, there’s you. You see hard years and strife-filled families. You live wondering when things are going to get better. You fight the same battles, the same shame, sin, and scars. You struggle to see God in the waiting.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">They held to a promise. Pages of prophecy paving the path of the Messiah, the Anointed One, the Savior. And with angel’s word and sheep’s bleating, He came. The fullest expression of God, born under a tyrant king and legalistic religious rule.</span></span></div>
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<h3>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">How great the pain of searing loss</span></i></span></h3>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">The Father turns His face away</span></i></span></h3>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">As wounds which mar the Chosen One</span></i></span></h3>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Bring many sons to glory</span></i></span></h3>
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<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">Thirty years of life, three years of ministry.</span></span></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">Jesus walked the regions of Judea and Galilee. He broke bread and expectations. When they tried to make Him king, He knew what they truly needed. He spoke to the outcasts and sinners. He argued with the pious religious leaders. He healed, He cast out, He spoke in a way that held the people’s attention and held mystery. </span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Even the disciples failed to understand much of what He said.</span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">And then, in a night rife with illegal proceedings, brutal beatings, and outraged peopl</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: inherit;">e, Jesus—the Messiah, the Anointed One, the Savior</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">—was taken to die the most excruciating death imaginable. Though He could have spoken His way out, called down the army of Heaven, He accepted it. He stayed silent while they mocked and whipped Him, while they twisted together a crown of piercing thorns.</span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222;">And God the Father watched His Son. As the nails drove through the wrists and heels of Christ, the Father ached the same. As the nails drove into the wood, they drove through the heart of God.</span></span></div>
</div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Behold the man upon a cross</span></i></span></h3>
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
<i style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">My sin upon His shoulders</span></i></h3>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Ashamed, I hear my mocking voice</span></i></span></h3>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Call out among the scoffers</span></i></span></h3>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">For hours on a hill named <i>Skull,</i> Jesus stayed on that cross. He could have come down. He could have humiliated the soldiers who raised the beams. He stayed.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">And there’s the weight on His shoulders. As He pushes up on the nails to get a single breath, He pushes against the shame of our sin on His shoulders.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;"><b>And there’s me.</b> There’s us. Mocking the <i>King of the Jews.</i> This man who equated Himself with God, who declared a coming kingdom, who argued against the religious leaders, He was weak. He let Himself get dragged through five abusive trials. He didn’t help anyone. He didn’t fix anything.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
<i><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">It was my sin that held Him there</span></span></i></h3>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
<i><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Until it was accomplished</span></span></i></h3>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
<i><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">His dying breath has brought me life</span></span></i></h3>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
<i><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">I know that it is finished</span></span></i></h3>
</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">Though the nails pierced flesh and bone and wood, it was my sin that drove them through. It was my sin lifted for a drink, sour and worthless on His tongue. It was my sin that humiliated the One who loved me most.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">And as He breathed His last agonizing breaths, He spoke </span>three words: <i><b>It is finished.</b></i> And He died. And my sin broke. The blood and water poured on the hill, my guilt washed away.</span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">I will not boast in anything</span></i></span></h3>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">No gifts, no power, no wisdom</span></i></span></h3>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">But I will boast in Jesus Christ</span></i></span></h3>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">His death and resurrection</span></i></span></h3>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">Confused, disoriented disciples wondered what this meant. They had come to know Him as the Messiah. If He was dead, what could they do? What had been the meaning in the last three years?</span></span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">When they heard from the women that the tomb was empty, that Jesus had been seen again, they were confused. As desperately as they wanted to believe it, doubt seared their minds. And then He was there, real and Him and different.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">And Thomas, the man renowned for his doubt, was scared. Scared to be disappointed again. Scared to be deceived. But when Jesus appeared before Him, pierced and alive, Thomas had no choice but to believe. <i>My Lord,</i> he said, <i>And my God.</i></span></span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #222222; font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Why should I gain from His reward?</span></i></span></h3>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
<i><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">I cannot give an answer</span></span></i></h3>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
<i><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">But this I know with all my heart</span></span></i></h3>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<h3 style="text-align: left;">
<i><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">His wounds have paid my ransom</span></span></i></h3>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">And here, there’s you. And there’s me. <b>And there’s Him</b>.</span></span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><span style="background-color: white;">Our dead life is gone. The only thing still in that tomb is death. Because He rose, we rise with Him. And it is no longer our own </span>life. Rather, we have laid down the things of old to become new. We have been crucified with Christ, that we no longer live ourselves, but Christ lives in us. </span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><b>This is the Gospel.</b></span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #222222;">With Christ, crucified. With Christ, buried. With Christ, raised to new life.</span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #222222;">He laid down His life for <i>you.</i> That kind of love doesn’t exist anywhere else. </span><span style="color: #222222;">That kind of love will heal and restore and free.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #222222;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: #222222;">He loves you.</span></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<h2 style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">How deep the Father's love for us, </span></i></span><i style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">how vast beyond all measure, </span></i><i style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">that He should give His only Son t</span></i><i style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">o make a wretch His treasure.</span></i></h2>
</div>
Hadley Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05822080269131988623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7117557474907541107.post-39874119619311538122017-12-28T11:54:00.001-06:002017-12-28T11:54:39.561-06:00What 2017 Means to Me<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
When I look back at where I was a year ago, I can't believe how much my life has changed.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Sitting at home after my first semester of college, I start thinking about exactly where I've been over the last 12 months. I see the fear and anxiety that burned. I see a girl who painted over her identity with insecurity and trust issues. I see a girl who let discouragement keep her from pursuing what she loved.<br />
<br />
I didn't blog very much in 2017. It doesn't really make sense, because one of the few blog posts I wrote this year got a huge amount (for me) of views. You would think having a post with 20 times the usually number of views would inspire me to write more. Instead, I went exactly five months without posting anything. I wanted to be everything I saw other bloggers being, but I didn't think I could measure up. So I didn't write.<br />
<br />
Words got harder. Despite them being my passion, I stopped believing they were worth anything. I was desperate to speak, but my mouth was dry and my lips glued shut.<br />
<br />
Words are still hard. Posting these links on social media is a weird feeling for me. I want people to read what I write, I want them to be encouraged and uplifted, but I don't want to wave around the fact that I have a blog or that I write books and want to write more poetry.<br />
<br />
What's easy is looking back on how little I wrote for this blog over 2017 and beating myself up for it. But what I've found is that that makes writing even more difficult. I've learned so much and been at a loss at how to express it. But I don't want that to be the case anymore.<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
What does 2017 mean to me? <b>Growth</b><i>.</i></blockquote>
<br />
If there's one thing I learned this year, and especially this semester, it's that there's so much I have to learn. And I'll always be learning.<br />
<br />
Knowing that there's always room for growth has offered so much freedom. I don't have to have all the answers. I don't have to have the most amazing blog. I don't always have to be right. Learning means that I'm always coming closer to Christ.<br />
<br />
This passage of scripture found in Philippians 3:12-14 has never felt more true to me than it has this semester:<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">"I’m not saying that I have this all together, that I have made it. But I am well on my way, reaching out for Christ, who has so wondrously reached out for me. Friends, don’t get me wrong: By no means do I count myself an expert in all of this, but I’ve got my eye on the goal, where God is beckoning us <span style="line-height: 115%;">onward—to Jesus. I</span>’m off and running, and I’m not turning back."</span></blockquote>
<br />
To me, 2017 means <a href="http://thehadleygrace.blogspot.com/2017/08/when-you-cant-keep-going.html">climbing</a>. At the top of this hill, I see exactly how far I’ve come. And I see the next hill. This time, though, the hill doesn’t seem impossible. This ground I thought was built of disappointment is actually built of hope in the one who never disappoints.<br />
<br />
This year, I learned to dance upon disappointment. When friendships end and relationships fall through, worship is the music to dance to. So I put down the paintbrushes of insecurities and trust issues. I let walls fall down, brick by brick. And, with the strength found in Christ, I use those bricks to start building bridges painted with grace and honesty.<br />
<br />
Wherever the voyage of 2018 leads, the Lord is the wind in my sails. He is my safe place. May He be the refuge I run to when battles are fought. May He be the anchor that secures me when the storms crash over me. So here’s farewell to 2017, and one brave step toward 2018.<br />
<br />
<i>Lord, bring me closer to you. Stretch my faith, lead me to where I have to trust you more. Give me opportunities to grow in courage and be brave in relationships. May I love you more each day. This year is yours.</i></div>
Hadley Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05822080269131988623noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7117557474907541107.post-57083199276479438682017-11-19T19:25:00.000-06:002019-04-03T00:33:18.381-05:00Why Your Relationship with God is the Greatest Gift<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
Going to university terrified me.<br />
<br />
I had done well in community college classes. I had chosen a school 20 minutes from home. I had amazing friends at my home church. And I was scared.<br />
<br />
High school was tough for me, especially in terms of friendships. I was worried I would carry those problems into college. I've had crippling anxiety because of school before. I was worried that perfectionism would steal my joy.<br />
<br />
Every morning, I wake up a little earlier than I have to, and I spend time with God.<br />
<br />
How little I appreciated this habit before college. I read my Bible consistently long before I moved into my dorm. I listened to worship music. It was really good. But while I was at Gateway Student Conference in July, I heard God say to me, "this will be one of the hardest seasons of your life, but it won't be the same as other hard times. This time, you know I'm with you."<br />
<br />
I know this couldn't be a time I neglected my relationship with God. So many things--friends, school, sleep--good things--would provide distractions. But if I let my time with the Lord slip, everything else would slip too. I would slip.<br />
<br />
Why is dedicated time with God so important? My Old Testament professor (AKA my adopted grandpa) talked in class one day about personal time with God. He said that your one-on-one time with the Lord is the single indicator of how your relationship with the Lord is going. Not corporate worship, not a journal full of sermon notes, not the Bible verses you post on social media. Without personal time with Christ, the relationship is shallow.<br />
<br />
One thing that changed my perspective on this was learning about the presence of God in the Old Testament.<br />
<br />
Once a year, on the day of atonement, the high priest would enter the Holy of Holies. There, he would meet with God. Simple enough, right? Well, there's a list as long as the arm of someone who has long arms. Every detail of that day had to be followed through or the high priest wouldn't be able to go into the Holy of Holies. He bathed <i>seven times </i>during that day. Because the presence of God was so strong, the guy could possibly die<i>.</i> Since the people absolutely could not go into the Holy of Holies on any other day or without all the ceremony, they <i>tied a rope to his ankle before he went in so they could drag him out.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
The presence of God was limited because the people's sins seperated them from God. They were spiritually dead--apart from Yahweh. This went on for centuries. From the tabernacle to the temple, there were dozens of rules concerning entering the presence of God. Separating the Holy Place from the Holy of Holies was an inch-thick, 60x30 curtain that went from floor to ceiling so no one accidentally tripped into the breathtaking presence of God.<br />
<br />
When Jesus died on the cross, that veil tore down the middle from floor to ceiling (Matthew 27:51)<br />
<br />
The veil that a single person would be incapable of tearing, the veil that separated sinful man from the presence of the Lord, the veil that represented our death, <i>was torn down the middle.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Jesus died and rose again because He loves you. He tore the veil because He <i>wants a relationship with you.</i> That's it. That's all He wants from you. John 3:16 doesn't say, "For God so wanted some slaves," or "For God so wanted some people to look good," or "For God so wanted to shame people..."<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
John 3:16 says, "For God so loved the world, that he gave his only son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life."</blockquote>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
What I've learned through this semester is that intentional, set-aside time with the Lord is <i>precious.</i> It isn't a mark on a check-list of how to be a good Christian. It isn't an obligation we drag through to seem spiritual. It isn't a ritual with no meaning. <i>It's a relationship.</i></div>
<div>
<i><br /></i></div>
<div>
Jesus so desperately wanted a relationship with <i>you</i> that He took your death. He lived a perfect life and was killed for it. But His resurrection raises you to life. Nothing you've done made you deserve His love. Nothing you can do will take away that love (Romans 8:38-2). </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We do not have to cleanse ourselves to go into the presence of God; His presence cleans us. He takes our brokenness, our shame, our fears. His presence is literally with us. I cannot fathom anything greater than the gift of having a relationship with God. And let me repeat that <i>it is a gift.</i> We cannot earn that relationship. It's the most lopsided relationship. He loves us more than we can even imagine.</div>
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<br /></div>
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I can climb the mountains of this season because I know who is climbing beside me. I can eat a feast in the presence of my fears because I know who prepared the table. I can find peace and hope because I know He lives.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
Because Jesus lives, we are welcomed into the presence of God without fear. Since we have this hope, we are very bold (2 Corinthians 3:12). This hope is an anchor for the soul, steadfast and secure, because Jesus went through the veil for us (Hebrews 6:19-20).</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Your relationship with God should be your first priority because it's God's first priority. We can have absolutely nothing greater than a relationship with Christ Jesus.</div>
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<br /></div>
<h2>
<span style="font-size: large;">|| "Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord." -Philippians 3:8a ||</span></h2>
Hadley Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05822080269131988623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7117557474907541107.post-64004335331072712352017-10-31T16:30:00.001-05:002017-10-31T16:31:51.069-05:00How to be the One Who has it All TogetherGoing to college for the first time brings a lot of changes. Many of those changes are amazing! However, there is one thing that should never change: how put together you are. With so many new people around you, you don't want to give the impression that your life isn't perfect. "Hadley," you may ask, "How do I make sure everyone thinks I have it all together?" I'm afraid this is no simple task, but here are a few tips to get you started.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmZuHrzb-UV0bdwPkmEBkkTVHrLYj7SCULdSQb1yXN6S299hStDNELD8C-qhkhrcH6_WDqetzXShh8Sd_hrS8OS1tWOOrKTPgu8zgAOKPc16860Ssm-1z4XrSt8YQzQ21myqvyhiQl2XY/s1600/How+to+be+the+One+Who+has+it+All+Together.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmZuHrzb-UV0bdwPkmEBkkTVHrLYj7SCULdSQb1yXN6S299hStDNELD8C-qhkhrcH6_WDqetzXShh8Sd_hrS8OS1tWOOrKTPgu8zgAOKPc16860Ssm-1z4XrSt8YQzQ21myqvyhiQl2XY/s320/How+to+be+the+One+Who+has+it+All+Together.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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1. Don't cry</h2>
Maybe you are completely lost in your math class, and even though everyone else understands, you can't figure out what's going on. Perhaps your best friend posted on her story a video of her having the time of her life with a big group you weren't included. There's a chance you're having a terrible time figuring out financial aids and loans and feel like you're going to be in debt for there rest of your life. However, crying is not okay. Hold it back and deal with your problems on your own. If you ask for help, others will realize you don't have it all together.<br />
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<h2>
2. Wake up early</h2>
By waking up early, you will have time to brush your teeth, shower, choose a cute OOTD, start your Keurig, and post a highlighted verse with an adorable coffee mug to your Instagram story. Don't forget concealer to hide the bags under your eyes from staying up late to study! If you sleep in too late, you won't have time to get your bun to reach the correct level of messiness. Too messy a bun, too messy a life.<br />
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<h2>
3. Take the back stairs</h2>
If you take the front stairs, everyone will see that you are out of breath and out of shape when you get to the third floor. If you go up the backstairs, you can catch your breath and fix your hair. Take a drink from your sticker-covered water bottle and get your "I can't wait to ace this test!" face on.<br />
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<h2>
4. Don't study in your room</h2>
Studying in your room may lead to your roommate(s) walking in and seeing you stressed out over a paper. Don't let this be you! Find a quiet corner of the library, maybe that one place that smells weird so no one will see your distress. Get that paper done and tell your hall-mates it was a breeze! This is especially important if it's is one of your major classes; you don't want anyone to think you would second-guess a life-altering decision.<br />
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<h2>
5. Work out when the gym is almost empty</h2>
This way, fewer people will see you fumble with the exercise equipment and realize you forgot your water bottle. Remember, it's okay to almost pass out on the elliptical machine as long as you get that gym time! Additionally, when you see people on the walking trail going faster than you or even running, remember that you could do better and should probably strain yourself to get rid of the ice-cream you ate last night because that guy rejected you.<br />
<h2>
6. Maintain your social medias</h2>
You need to remember to take pictures any time you hang out with someone and, even if you've only known the person in the photo for a week, let everyone who follows that this person is your best friend. Be sure to retweet the occasionally relatable college student post, but be careful. Too many retweeted lighthearted jokes about falling behind may lead people to believe <i>you</i> are falling apart. Also, if you don't post often enough, people won't be able to see all the crazy fun you're having. Always remember: a empty feed is an empty life!<br />
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<h2>
7. Never tell anyone what's going on in your life</h2>
Let's say a friend or mentor asks how college is going. Be ready to assure them that everything is fantastic. You're making more friends than can fit in one Facebook album, you've got all your tests and assignments under control, and you're so ready to go home and see your family over the upcoming break. Be sure not to mention any crippling anxiety, feelings of helplessness, or fear of not being able to reach the expectations of others. Your friends want to be there for you, but you should only ever be there for them. After all, you are the put-together perfect one.<br />
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Always remember: there are countless people looking to you, and you don't want to let them down. Keep any struggle contained and controlled so others won't think you aren't perfect.<br />
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Good luck everyone! And remember to stay perfect!<br />
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<br />
(p.s. I hope you realize this is satire. No one has everything together. See my <a href="https://thehadleygrace.blogspot.com/2017/09/fully-known-fully-loved.html">last post</a> for some non-satirical advice.)Hadley Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05822080269131988623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7117557474907541107.post-78989888033428120082017-09-29T10:15:00.000-05:002017-10-01T21:13:35.046-05:00Fully Known, Fully Loved<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8z7T25xzfn88l2yGZ9trJGxlRQFflpeVHQe40sxJ077sTgA6DzQuUDYkrpuGMp0-ySy11TXMBgMZWjhsAaBDP7fGOLRoEuRKNFDMA0zZSAfudYPSvVYYqojeQX8TXL4r84sKcthSkILw/s1600/bold.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="789" data-original-width="940" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8z7T25xzfn88l2yGZ9trJGxlRQFflpeVHQe40sxJ077sTgA6DzQuUDYkrpuGMp0-ySy11TXMBgMZWjhsAaBDP7fGOLRoEuRKNFDMA0zZSAfudYPSvVYYqojeQX8TXL4r84sKcthSkILw/s320/bold.png" title="2 Corinthians 3:12" width="320" /></a></div>
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I read a lot about being a freshman in college before I went to college. I have several Pinterest boards dedicated the topic and, while I felt prepared for tough classes and gross caf food, I did not feel prepared to make friends.<br />
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Last month, I moved into Dallas Baptist University. I'm only 20 minutes away from home. I go to the same church I've been going to since I was 9. In a lot of ways, it doesn't feel like a huge change. However, if you've gone to university or if you ever talked to someone who attended college, you know that maybe the biggest change happening is internal.<br />
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Meeting new people terrifies me. And college is filled with new people. New people who don't know me, don't know people who know me, haven't heard things about me, only know me from stalking my Instagram.<br />
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A reason why meeting new people is so frightening to me is trust. For the first several weeks of university, I was paralyzingly anxious because I didn't believe I could trust anyone. Too many high school experiences told me I was bad at choosing the right people to trust.<br />
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At the heart, I couldn't trust myself. I looked at my track record and determined my discernment had failed one too many times.<br />
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One Monday night, I lost it. That afternoon, I had gone with my mom to pick out new glasses. We also bought groceries.<br />
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I was walking up the hill from Freshman parking and realized I had walked up a hundred million stairs and forgotten my groceries. With a less than perky attitude, I trudged down the bricks, got my groceries and walked back up the stairs. When I got back into my pod, I realized I left my cans of beans.<br />
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After four weeks of being fairly emotionally stable, I started crying over two cans of beans. One thing I've learned in 18 years of life is crying is very rarely caused by just one thing. As I questioned why I was crying over beans, I came back to the issue of trust issues.<br />
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I had been home all afternoon, where I was safe and secure. Then I drove up a couple highways to a place that felt unsafe and insecure. I was sobbing because I didn't feel known or loved. I was angry and bitter and hardened because of all the friendships that had broken me before. What had I done wrong? What was wrong with me?<br />
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Shame made me hide. I hadn't been good enough in the past, so I buried anything I saw as insufficient. I stuck everything I didn't like about myself--sin, likes, dislikes, personality traits--in a box and shoved it behind my dresser.<br />
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Some friends of mine who graduated from DBU have a saying "fully known and fully loved." That phrase came to mind while I was crying about my beans.<br />
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For the next week, I kept thinking about those words. I never knew five words could be so hard, so challenging. I had to decide. I could live in shame and fear, or I could live in truth and love.<br />
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That shame was so easy to fall into, the fear easy to hide behind. As long as I wasn't seen, I wasn't betrayed. Easy wasn't fun, though. Easy wasn't fulfilling. Easy was burning me from the inside out. So I took those five words--<i>fully known and fully loved--</i>and slowly started living them.<br />
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On Monday, I got new glasses and I am not exaggerating when I say I do not look like the same person.<br />
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After more than two years of wearing the same pair of glasses every single day, I got new frames. Y'all, my vision is bad. I can't go a day without my glasses on. So the dark purple frames I got right before my 16th birthday sat on my nose every single day. I couldn't imagine myself without those glasses. They were as much a part of my face as my eyebrows.<br />
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My new frames are clear and big. It seems like a small difference, just a different color. Let me tell you, they are not the same.<br />
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I look in the mirror, and the first thing I see is my face. For years, all I could see looking in the mirror were the thick, dark frames shading my eyes. Most of the people I know now have only known me in those glasses. I hid behind those frames, defining myself by my poor vision, my inability to see clearly.<br />
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Fully seen, fully known, fully loved. You cannot experience the love of others if you don't put down your mask and come as you are. I've kept myself from having deep friendships because I've been petrified by the idea that all my past hurts were caused by something intrinsically wrong with me. That fear hindered every current relationship.<br />
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Grace follows honesty. Honesty requires courage. So here I am, in my dorm way past my usual bedtime, writing a blogpost about how scared I am and fragile my confidence is. I'm so far from perfect, from a life figured out. I think, though, these glasses brought a little more clarity.<br />
<br />
So I'm taking the risk. I'm being a little bit braver. I'm choosing to trust. I'm choosing to be fully known that I may be fully loved.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp9uFiufFxMOePCfbnPwXnYj-AvHnCxbtUJeLlBjcf26IC6Zre5nnGvuL_uA2ZQxwbm-v__nF1ypAoTIt_OjdwN8aUyGV7HzEYhUAcvS70K8SzacbdEDHb7e7S-f6UlQYp5lTHIAFGKrA/s1600/22046622_2167680236792313_1184374822522187005_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp9uFiufFxMOePCfbnPwXnYj-AvHnCxbtUJeLlBjcf26IC6Zre5nnGvuL_uA2ZQxwbm-v__nF1ypAoTIt_OjdwN8aUyGV7HzEYhUAcvS70K8SzacbdEDHb7e7S-f6UlQYp5lTHIAFGKrA/s320/22046622_2167680236792313_1184374822522187005_n.jpg" title="alternatively titled: what a can of beans taught me about trust" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">also, I became a hipster. whoops.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Hadley Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05822080269131988623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7117557474907541107.post-33594719761945163482017-08-26T23:28:00.002-05:002017-08-26T23:38:03.733-05:00When You Can't Keep GoingA few weeks ago, I climbed up a mountain.<br />
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Okay, so it wasn't a technical "mountain," and it wasn't exactly "climbing," but it felt close enough. We hiked up a hill.<br />
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It was the last day of our mission trip to Ireland. For the previous five days, we had spent our time and energy playing with and loving kids who desperately needed it. I got weird looks from people when I told them I was going to Ireland for a mission trip--isn't Ireland already a mostly Christian country? According to statistics and the teaching in the schools, yes. Ireland is mostly Catholic/Christian. But going there, I saw people, especially the children I spent time with, dry and in need of Jesus' real grace and truth.<br />
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On Saturday night, after the "Big Day Out" put on by the church we partnered with, our trip leader Matthew told us he, and anyone else who wanted to come, was going to get up and walk up this hill we had seen on the beach.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Jkv4GNOTbw4RhphoDIM3VRRhFwSQ0qRePEmFbpQCYOrbX1Yh2HGug3fTQCOemysLq1325oczZWW8qfCkpy1QxJ7i3NK2KgwbQOLNakz7eJ-OKYNZ1otgzV355h4n3xogwQ2I9dzsk3Q/s1600/mountain.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Jkv4GNOTbw4RhphoDIM3VRRhFwSQ0qRePEmFbpQCYOrbX1Yh2HGug3fTQCOemysLq1325oczZWW8qfCkpy1QxJ7i3NK2KgwbQOLNakz7eJ-OKYNZ1otgzV355h4n3xogwQ2I9dzsk3Q/s400/mountain.png" title="in this one you can actually see the cross a little bit" width="400" /></a></div>
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To hike up the mountain and have time to get ready for church later that morning, we had to leave at 7:00AM. Normally, getting up that early isn't a big deal. But we had been getting up early every day, fighting through jet lag every day, playing and dancing and talking to kids every day. And y'all, hiking was not my thing. </div>
<div>
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<div>
But I wanted to hike up that hill. I wanted to see that cross, see the ocean, the view of the town we'd served. I was certain that God had something for me at the top of that cliff.</div>
<div>
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So I woke up at six. I got up, got ready. And we went downstairs.</div>
<div>
<br />
The walk to the hill was about 15 minutes long. The hike to the top, we had learned from locals, took about 30 minutes. No big deal. The whole walk would take about an hour.</div>
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<div>
Rain drizzled as we walked down the beach. The sunrise was soft on the Irish ocean. When we reached the hill, the rain stopped. I was feeling confident. The slope wasn't too bad, and we'd walked up a lot of hills during the week. I could see the cross at the top, could hardly wait to reach that peak.</div>
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Then we went off the road onto the actual trail. There were paved stairs, seemed simple enough. Hard because stairs, but also easy to climb. Then the stairs ended and I began struggling.</div>
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<div>
Soon enough, the rest of the group was far ahead. The path was lined with rocks, and it was uphill the entire time. Among the trees there was no breeze and a lot of sweat. My backpack felt as though it were filled with bricks.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Along with the excess hill climbing, I was hot from shame. I was the only one lagging behind. I couldn't even see the others anymore. One person stayed behind with me--Trey, another of the trip leaders. </div>
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<div>
Every muscle burned. I almost slipped on dirt made slick from the earlier drizzle. Beneath the trees, there was no sight of the top. There were only more slopes, more rocks, more trees. Fifteen minutes in, I didn't think I could make it all the way up. I tried to imagine the walk down </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
I began repeating Bible verses and every worship song related to mountains. One song played on repeat in my head: <i>For the Lord is, He is able; He is faithful, higher than the mountains that I face.</i><br />
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<div>
Trey gave me his extra water and told me what he did when hiking.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
You can't focus on the peak, on the ultimate goal, the end of the struggle. You pick a spot, somewhere in your eyesight. You make it there, take a deep breath, drink some water, and choose a new spot.</div>
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<div>
I kept going. At every stop, I didn't believe I could make it up, to the next tree. We came out of the woods, but hadn't yet reached the top. Now I could see the peak again, but it seemed more impossible now. The others had already almost made it. I was close to stopping, accepting this spot as good enough. </div>
<div>
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<div>
But I made it this far. I could make it to that long grass over there, reach the end of the burnt trees.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
The cold elevated air made my throat sting. I repeated the words of that song in my head over and over. All those songs about going over and moving mountains were becoming a whole lot more relatable. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
The very top of the hill was elevated from the clearing by a steeper slope. The cross, the view, the fruit of my breath aching effort was separated by 30+ feet of an almost 90° angle wall of rocks.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
When Trey and I reached the base of the final cliff, Matt came back to us.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
"There's no easy way up there," he said.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
No hidden short cut on the other side, no ladder, no stairs. Just rocks.</div>
<div>
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<div>
I took a few deep breaths, drank some more water. Every inch of my legs was in pain. If someone had told me my calves had literally been set on fire, I would've believed him.</div>
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<div>
I could've turned around, looked at the view and accepted the beauty that was already there. But I knew, I was so positive the top would be worth it. God had something for me. I wasn't going to quit and take the easy way out.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I put on foot on the first rock, took Matt's hand, and stepped up. First to that solid ledge, then to another. My lungs were icy, my heart pounding louder, begging me to stop here, walk back down. I kept going, with Matt in front of me and Trey behind me. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"Almost there," Matt told me.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Each step was tentative and full of thought. Everything in me was clenched, strained to keep going, keep going, keep going. Every time I reached with my hand, stood on a ledge, stepped with my foot, I couldn't believe I would be able to do it again.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<i>His grace is sufficient for me, for his power is made perfect in weakness. </i></div>
<div>
<i><br /></i></div>
<div>
With altitude and wind and breathlessness fighting against my lungs, I reached the top. My heart still pounded. Trey and Matt left me alone and I stood. There was the cross, so much greater than when I'd seen it from the shore three days that week. It wasn't too twigs tied together with twine. It was stone. Steady, unshaken, stone.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I cried. The freezing wind bit at my hot tears. I made it. Despite wanting to turn back with every step, I kept going. When I couldn't see the top, couldn't see the cross, I kept going. When I felt small and weak because I couldn't keep up with the others, I kept going. When all of my insecurities whispered in the pounding of my heart, I kept going.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
God didn't just have something for me a the top. He had so much for me in every painstaking step.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The hike wasn't easy. It was one of the hardest physical, mental, and emotional things I'd ever done. But I made it. I saw the cross, and from the point, saw the ocean for miles and miles, saw Ireland in a way I never imagined, looked down and saw exactly how far I'd come. If I wouldn't have had someone walking beside me and behind me, I know without a doubt I could not have walked all the way up that hill. If I had walked up there to take cool pictures for Instagram, I would've quit halfway through.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The view was beautiful. The stone cross was incredible. But the hike? The hike was everything, every ounce of strength I didn't know I had, every shortcoming made perfect in grace.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Less than a month ago, I would've never said hiking was anywhere near something on my to-do list, but that climb made me realize that the hike, and most journeys in life, aren't about your strength. They're about endurance and perseverance. </div>
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And for me, they're about courage--every step a little more brave.<br />
<br /></div>
<h2>
|| "But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me." 2 Corinthians 12:9 ||</h2>
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Hadley Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05822080269131988623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7117557474907541107.post-70466166778247911072017-03-26T01:02:00.002-05:002017-03-26T01:12:12.570-05:00When You Weren't InvitedDear friend,<br />
<div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg20hhChabyxubb13HBAHMNIIGUNnoDNBCpdBNnqqNas3s_1-cfDSBnJN46gQ0MCOgFzNQMMTJeRHQdjXf8esQMV9SaSHSmcqIaS2TA6tiuBD13pT0qB1MRth9p6yJ4QYyavsNNSAY0DGU/s1600/when+you+weren%2527t+invited.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg20hhChabyxubb13HBAHMNIIGUNnoDNBCpdBNnqqNas3s_1-cfDSBnJN46gQ0MCOgFzNQMMTJeRHQdjXf8esQMV9SaSHSmcqIaS2TA6tiuBD13pT0qB1MRth9p6yJ4QYyavsNNSAY0DGU/s320/when+you+weren%2527t+invited.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hpekrSSTzs8">watch this</a></td></tr>
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<div>
You weren't invited. You weren't noticed. You weren't chosen.</div>
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<div>
It's past midnight and you're scrolling through Instagram, seeing the fun photos and exciting captions. And you weren't there. </div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>Why?</i> You wonder. After all your effort and time spent, they overlooked you. And the lies seep in. <i>You're not funny enough. Not pretty enough. Not fashionable or thin or curvy or good enough. </i>The friends you thought were your best stop responding, stop speaking.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But friend, this is not who you are. I've met Rejection a few times, and he's not a nice guy. He weasels his way in and replaces your expectations with disappointment and pain. He steals joy and brings down weeks.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
When this bully walks into your life, there are a few things you must remember:</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<h3>
1. You are accepted.</h3>
<div>
Darling, there is a love, a friend, who will always accept you. Yes, you've heard it before. He may not seem like enough now, but when you but your hand in His, Jesus will be with you where you go because <i>that's where true love goes. </i>He doesn't give His heart in pieces because he is faithful even when we are not.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<h2>
|| I took you from the ends of the earth,<br /> from its farthest corners I called you.<br />I said, ‘You are my servant’;<br /> I have chosen you and have not rejected you. - Isaiah 41:9 ||</h2>
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<div>
<br /></div>
<h3>
2. You don't have to be "enough."</h3>
<div>
No, not everyone will like you. You won't be everyone's best friend. <i>And that's okay. </i>There are and will be people who place unfair, unreal expectations on you and that's stupid. Who you are, who you really are, is who you're made to be. You will never meet everyone's expectation of enough. But you are not in competition with any one else. <a href="http://thehadleygrace.blogspot.com/2016/07/what-she-really-wants.html">You are your own kind of enough</a> that no one else is because someone else's enough-ness does not change yours.</div>
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<br /></div>
<h3>
3. They weren't trying to hurt you.</h3>
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Those people who rejected you? They've been rejected too. There's a 99.9% chance they didn't mean to exclude you. They weren't trying to point out your flaws or make you feel bad. From what I know about other people--they're battling the same things as you. Their fight may look different, and you probably can't see it, but it's there. People are just people. It doesn't matter how exciting their Snapchat stories and Instagram posts are.</div>
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<br /></div>
<h3>
4. You can rise above it.</h3>
<div>
Don't let rejection define you. Instead of focusing on the loss, focus on the new. Growth happens in the breaking. I'm not telling you to get revenge or become a passive-aggressive subtweet-er or block them on every social media. I'm telling you that <i>you can move on.</i> Move on from the hurt into a new day. And yes, there will come a time when you hurt again <i>but it's not because something is wrong with you.</i> It's because life hurts sometimes. Don't let yourself get caught in the hurt. Keep living. Keep trusting God.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div>
There isn't an easy answer to rejection. It hurts. But if no one else has told you, and even if they have, let me tell you: you're beautiful. You're lovable. You're unique. You're needed. You're wanted. You will be okay.</div>
Hadley Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05822080269131988623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7117557474907541107.post-37368592655358818932017-02-07T04:00:00.000-06:002017-02-07T18:01:27.486-06:00The Lost Girl of Astor Street Clue Hunt #17 - Book Review4.7/5 Stars<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: "merriweather" , "georgia" , serif; font-size: 14px;"><i>The Lost Girl of Astor Street </i>by Stephanie Morrill</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: "merriweather" , "georgia" , serif; font-size: 14px;">Tornado sirens went off while I was reading the Lost Girl of Astor Street. My first thought was that I’d have to keep reading in the bathroom safe area.</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: "merriweather" , "georgia" , serif; font-size: 14px;">This book had me at the edge of my seat even before Lydia went missing. From Piper to Mr. LeVine, each character came alive within the first words they spoke. I was enveloped in the 1920s, not with flashy name dropping but with living, breathing people who showed me around without showing off.</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px;" />
<b style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px;">The Plot</b><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: "merriweather" , "georgia" , serif; font-size: 14px;">****</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: "merriweather" , "georgia" , serif; font-size: 14px;">The primary plot is the mystery of Lydia LeVine’s disappearance. Piper refuses to be useless to the investigation, gradually doing more and more to aid the officers involved. But the mystery isn’t the only thread pulled through the novel. Plot lines surrounding Piper’s family, friends, and enemies work together like players in a jazz band.</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: "merriweather" , "georgia" , serif; font-size: 14px;">The twists and turns caught me off guard, exactly as a mystery should, and yet were set up so well beforehand. I laughed, I cried. There were moments I wanted to throw the book across the room but couldn’t because I was reading on my laptop. I loved it. The only issue I had with the plot was that, towards the end, it slowed down before speeding up a little too quickly. Things could’ve taken a little more time to wrap up.</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px;" />
<b style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px;">The Characters</b><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: "merriweather" , "georgia" , serif; font-size: 14px;">*****</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: "merriweather" , "georgia" , serif; font-size: 14px;">Oh. My. Gosh. The characters were my absolute favorite part. Stephanie Morrill is a master of characters. Each one, major and minor, spoke and acted like people. Everyone was a person, with their own goals and motivations. Piper was the spunky, strong lead. Detective Cassano foiled and fit with her in the perfect way. All of Piper’s relationships with </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #e06666; font-family: "merriweather" , "georgia" , serif; font-size: 14px;">everyone </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: "merriweather" , "georgia" , serif; font-size: 14px;">Personalities and backgrounds were established without jarring info dumps. I rooted for the heroes and understood the antagonists.</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px;" />
<b style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px;">The Setting</b><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: "merriweather" , "georgia" , serif; font-size: 14px;">*****</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: "merriweather" , "georgia" , serif; font-size: 14px;">Lost Girl didn’t take place in the 20s because it’s a fun time, and it didn’t take place in Chicago because it’s an interesting city. 1924 Chicago was part of the plot, the true home of the characters. Social class, mobsters, locations, and even fashion painted the picture without becoming overwhelming and distracting. It was perfect.</span><br />
<br style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: Merriweather, Georgia, serif; font-size: 14px;" />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: "merriweather" , "georgia" , serif; font-size: 14px;">I’m in love with this book. So much so, that even though I got a free ARC on my computer, I pre-ordered a hard copy so I can force it into my friends’ hands and make them read it.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: "merriweather" , "georgia" , serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR986s7gNMXHQqm7nKXz2-wn85Xr8oLxYiybxcD6IH08S8twRI2waqzjvWIoI8MBjRmgCSoy9Ung479RU3clPqrTxxecDp4cO0qJQqDSjEt9os4MXi53ZiEVUfwqjW6EnHqj9EhjW0UEI/s1600/lost+girl.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR986s7gNMXHQqm7nKXz2-wn85Xr8oLxYiybxcD6IH08S8twRI2waqzjvWIoI8MBjRmgCSoy9Ung479RU3clPqrTxxecDp4cO0qJQqDSjEt9os4MXi53ZiEVUfwqjW6EnHqj9EhjW0UEI/s320/lost+girl.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: "merriweather" , "georgia" , serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: "merriweather" , "georgia" , serif; font-size: 14px;">I received a free copy of this book. The review is mine entirely.</span><br />
<h2>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "merriweather" , "georgia" , serif; font-size: 14px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "merriweather" , "georgia" , serif; font-size: large;"><i>Everyone</i></span></h2>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "merriweather" , "georgia" , serif; font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<a href="http://www.stephaniemorrill.com/clue1/">Clue 1: Stephanie Morrill</a><br />
<a href="http://somebooksare.wordpress.com/the-lost-girl-of-astor-street-clue-hunt-clue-2">Clue 2: Some Books Are</a><br />
<a href="http://gabriellaslade.com/2017/02/07/the-lost-girl-of-astor-street-clue-hunt-4/">Clue 3: Gabriella Slade</a><br />
<a href="http://pagebypagebookbybook.blogspot.com/2017/02/the-lost-girl-of-astor-street-clue-hunt.html">Clue 4: Page by Page, Book by Book</a><br />
<a href="https://pensandscrolls.wordpress.com/2017/2/7/the-lost-girl-of-astor-street-clue-hunt-clue-5/">Clue 5: Pens and Scrolls</a><br />
<a href="http://www.singinglibrarianbooks.com/teens/the-lost-girl-of-astor-street-clue-hunt-clue-6">Clue 6: Singing Librarian Books</a><br />
<a href="http://heathermauthor.blogspot.com/2017/02/the-lost-girl-of-astor-street-clue-hunt.html">Clue 7: Heather Manning</a><br />
<a href="http://annie-louise-twitchell.blogspot.com/2017/02/the-lost-girl-of-astor-street-blog-tour.html">Clue 8: Annie Louise Twitchell</a><br />
<a href="http://novelingnovelties.blogspot.com/2017/02/the-lost-girl-of-astor-street-clue-hunt.html">Clue 9: Noveling Novelties</a><br />
<a href="https://iamkai517.weebly.com/blog/the-lost-girl-of-astor-street-clue-hunt-10">Clue 10: Kaitee Hart</a><br />
<a href="https://classicsandcraziness.wordpress.com/2017/02/07/the-lost-girl-of-astor-street-clue-hunt-clue-11/">Clue 11: Classics and Craziness</a><br />
<a href="http://www.zerinablossom.com/2017/02/07/the-lost-girl-of-astor-street/">Clue 12: Zerina Blossom</a><br />
<a href="http://authorrebeccamorgan.com/2017/02/07/the-lost-girl-of-astor-street-clue-hunt-clue-13">Clue 13: Rebecca Morgan</a><br />
<a href="http://keturahskorner.blogspot.com/2017/02/the-lost-girl-of-astor-street-clue-hunt.html">Clue 14: Keturah's Korner</a><br />
<a href="https://thatbookgal.wordpress.com/2017/02/07/the-lost-girl-of-astor-street-clue-hunt-clue-15/">Clue 15: That Book Gal</a><br />
<a href="https://annaschaeffer.wordpress.com/2017/02/07/the-lost-girl-of-astor-street-clue-hunt-clue-16/">Clue 16: Anna Schaeffer</a><br />
<a href="http://thehadleygrace.blogspot.com/2017/02/the-lost-girl-of-astor-street-clue-hunt.html">Clue 17: Hadley Grace</a><br />
<a href="http://lydiahowe.com/2017/02/07/the-lost-girl-of-astor-street-clue-hunt-clue-18">Clue 18: Lydia Howe</a><br />
<a href="http://ramblingsbybethany.blogspot.com/2017/02/the-lost-girl-of-astor-street-clue-hunt_7.html">Clue 19: Ramblings by Bethany</a><br />
<a href="http://hastmattis.blogg.se/2017/february/the-lost-girl-of-astor-street-clue-hunt-clue-20.html">Clue 20: Matilda Sjöholm</a><br />
<a href="https://lydiacarnsblog.wordpress.com/2017/02/07/the-lost-girl-of-astor-street-clue-hunt-21/">Clue 21: Lydia Carns</a><br />
<a href="http://brokenbirdsong.blogspot.com/2017/02/the-lost-girl-of-astor-street-clue-hunt.html">Clue 22: Broken Birdsong</a><br />
<a href="http://theinkloft.blogspot.com/2017/02/the-lost-girl-of-astor-street-clue-hunt.html">Clue 23 & Clue 24: The Ink Loft</a><br />
<a href="http://roseannamwhite.blogspot.com/2017/02/the-lost-girl-of-astor-street-hunt-clue.html">Clue 25: Roseanna M. White</a>
Hadley Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05822080269131988623noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7117557474907541107.post-86627491288588720132017-01-23T10:07:00.000-06:002017-01-23T10:08:14.518-06:00New SeasonThis is my last semester of high school.<br />
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Last year, I was desperate to get out of high school. My junior year was, in a word, terrible. There were good moments. It got better towards the end. But I was miserable for a significant portion of my 11th grade year.</div>
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My sophomore year, I saw my high school career ending a whole lot differently. I imaged a graduation ceremony with my friends, staying in touch and even as close friends with several of my current high school friends. Now, I'm not good friends with most of the people I was friends with that year.</div>
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<b>Six months ago looks much different than right now. </b>I had no idea what the semester would look like. I didn't know who my friends would be, what dual credit classes I would take, or when I would get my license. I didn't know I would get a smart phone, a job, and a two hour drive to debate club. I had no vision for the rest of the year or the next.</div>
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I spent the fall semester figuring things out.</div>
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I found myself doing something I dreamed of since I was twelve and getting paid for it.</div>
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I found myself with stress and pressure and learning to deal with it.</div>
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I found myself making friends with just the people I needed and feeling included again.</div>
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I found myself preparing for a new season.</div>
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That's what senior year is all about, right? Getting ready, planning, figuring things out. What I've figured out? <i>God knows what's best.</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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Trusting God doesn't mean knowing what's happening next. Trusting God is believing that whatever happens, <i>God</i> knows what's happening next. He isn't surprised by that heart break, that disappointment, that choice. He knows you, He knows what's best for you. And for me.</div>
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I'm still figuring things out. Which was my excuse for blogging like, never. So for the sake of figuring things out, I'm going to put some things on this blog I wouldn't have before (like the occasional book review, or photography experiment). Basically, I'm going to blog every week I can with whatever I want to post. (You probably don't care, but I feel like it'd be weird if I started posting different stuff with no warning.) </div>
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New seasons are scary, but they're also super exciting. Yeah, I'm nervous. I'm getting ready to go to university, and I don't know how that's going to treat me. But I'm not scared.</div>
Hadley Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05822080269131988623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7117557474907541107.post-14095351495639279312016-11-11T15:56:00.004-06:002016-11-11T15:56:59.336-06:00Can We Please Skip to Christmas?In case it slipped your notice, we just had an election here in the US.<br />
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On an unrelated note, the planet is exploding and the world as we know it has ended.<br />
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It seems that wherever someone stands on the election, this is their view of the situation. Each side is spewing acid at the other. I got so tired of the endless Facebook posts about the election results I delete the app off my phone. Of course, I'd been sick of the election since March.<br />
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Like any reasonable person, I started listening to Christmas music after Halloween. Meanwhile, everyone else was freaking out about that <i>wonderful</i> Tuesday evening/Wednesday morning.<br />
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And now everyone is freaking out because everyone else is wrong and how dare you have <i>that</i> reaction to the election? Are you <i>crazy?</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Here's a novel idea: no, they're not crazy. They have a different opinion from you.<br />
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You know what we can agree on? Christmas. Even if you don't celebrate it, the season surrounding it is straight up wonderful (I mean, the most wonderful of the year amiright?). Aside from the commercialism--a mindset that should be thoroughly gone after a rewatch of a Charlie Brown Christmas--the mood seems to lift. I find it very hard to listen to Christmas music and be in a bad mood.<br />
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So maybe we should take a break from this election. Let's celebrate Thanksgiving with our families, awkward as it may be. We can all agree that this election was wack, so let's just settle on that and stop there. Let's talk about what we're grateful for--living in a country that offers way more freedom than many other nations, having people around us to love, being able to love others without getting angry about their "wrong" opinion (*hint hint*)--and not what we wish were different.<br />
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Let's pray more than we complain, give more than we take. After all, we learned when we were kids that giving is more satisfying than taking. Let's take a break from the division <strike>forever</strike> for a season, and gather around what we share in common.<br />
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Let's stop spreading hate and start spreading joy, okay? The world isn't going to end. Things may change, better or worse, but you're still in America and that's a blessing. Fill in the gaps hate created with the love God sent to earth to save us.<br />
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Let's celebrate the One who actually can save us--not a politician or businessman. Jesus.<br />
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So yeah, I'm listening to Christmas music before Thanksgiving. Because I like it and it's a breath of fresh air after this election season.<br />
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Now excuse me while I dig my Christmas tree out of the garage.Hadley Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05822080269131988623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7117557474907541107.post-38080067275611161522016-10-01T02:03:00.001-05:002016-10-01T02:10:52.953-05:00Let This Be Where I Die<div>
I don't like busy.</div>
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There are big things--elections and terrorism and school shootings. But there are also things that seem small--biology tests, writing speeches, keeping the kitchen clean. The noise that was once in the background grows, quietly growing until it's all I can hear.</div>
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This is the busiest I've been in my life. It's my senior year of high school, and there's so much to do. I have dual credit classes, speeches, more speeches, work, writing, more writing. Which is why I haven't written a blog post in almost two months.</div>
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I don't know how to be busy. I need time to slow down, take a breath. If I don't have time, I get anxious and I'm still learning how to handle anxiety. I barely know how to talk about it.</div>
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There's another reason I haven't written here in so long. I haven't been sure about what I wanted to write. I've had writer's block with a lot of things lately.</div>
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People think I'm good with words because I'm a writer. And sometimes, I feel that way. Other times, there are a hundred thousand things running through my mind and I don't know what words to say and what words to write and what words to forget.</div>
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I don't really like having a lot going on.</div>
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Maybe I'm just lazy, or maybe I just like quiet. I prefer listening or writing to speaking. It takes me time to figure out everything in my head.</div>
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The worst, though, is that I get so caught up in thinking about everything I have to do, and trying to figure out how I'm going to do everything I have to do, I forget to pause. I forget to take a moment and come close to my King. I forget to start my 6:30AM days with time in His presence. And I become exhausted, stressed, anxious.</div>
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With Him, there is peace, hope, grace. He tells me I don't have to get everything right, I don't have to be perfect</div>
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<i>|| </i>"I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me." -Galatians 2:20<i> ||</i></h2>
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<i>I have been crucified with Christ.</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1x0W2i0KKzQk8W-aKPyYRi08mCdA4wu87glco4UZRV4GoApv-9LGQ3p2lXLq3LeIgxLxSs5CwyvFCgO9snve2yh2uMjtbzKOCnrVISsW_NzGRWb0aK_FbeTjXIGUjhEE7vGy-2dHYzD0/s1600/let+this+be.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1x0W2i0KKzQk8W-aKPyYRi08mCdA4wu87glco4UZRV4GoApv-9LGQ3p2lXLq3LeIgxLxSs5CwyvFCgO9snve2yh2uMjtbzKOCnrVISsW_NzGRWb0aK_FbeTjXIGUjhEE7vGy-2dHYzD0/s400/let+this+be.png" width="277" /></a>My brokenness, my sin, my inadequacies, myself. Nailed to the cross.</div>
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<i>I no longer live, but Christ lives in me.</i></div>
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I don't have to define myself by my poor communication skills, or anxiety, or fear, or sin, or what my shame tells me is my definition.</div>
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<i>The life I now lie in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God.</i></div>
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My heart isn't mine. My faith is not in myself. My identity is not my past. I am found in faith in <i>the Son of God.</i></div>
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<i>I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.</i></div>
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I am not who I was because Jesus loved me enough to say, <i>"I'm not going to let you stay here. I have something better for you."</i></div>
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How easy it is to forget how much better He is. So right now, I want to let go, let the castles of brick I built fall. I want this to be where I die, crucified with Christ, so that it may be Him living in me. </div>
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<span style="color: #45818e;"><i>O let this be where I die</i></span></h3>
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<span style="color: #45818e;"><i>My Lord with thee crucified</i></span></h3>
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<span style="color: #45818e;"><i>Be lifted high as my kingdoms fall</i></span></h3>
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<span style="color: #45818e;"><i>Once and for all, once and for all</i></span></h3>
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<i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Btfz9qKXUIk">-<b><span style="color: #45818e;">Lauren Daigle, Once And For All</span></b></a></i></div>
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Hadley Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05822080269131988623noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7117557474907541107.post-66037688461092199682016-08-04T00:37:00.000-05:002016-08-04T00:37:25.279-05:00Where Home Really isWe've all heard it said that "home is where the heart is."<br />
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In my loneliest moments, crying on my bathroom floor, the cry of my heart has been <i>I want to go home.</i> It didn't matter where I was. It didn't have much to do with who was with me. I wanted to feel home.<br />
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There's more to home than where our heart is. Our heart can be anywhere. I know my heart has been with the wrong people before. It's been focused on the wrong things before. My heart has been wrong before. My heart is wrong a lot.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh07kaA_srKqBwExVjbNV6iaIkpE-pqLG-gE0EU9na-_ChxexRGaFfixOmkCnQXzia1uFEGU4PkTj9pB5n8bKKjZBj4YjbD2Tnq32QwdoQuXIhAieiokIepK5J6k5AbgeXkF0eIo6HjXQA/s1600/home.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh07kaA_srKqBwExVjbNV6iaIkpE-pqLG-gE0EU9na-_ChxexRGaFfixOmkCnQXzia1uFEGU4PkTj9pB5n8bKKjZBj4YjbD2Tnq32QwdoQuXIhAieiokIepK5J6k5AbgeXkF0eIo6HjXQA/s400/home.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />Our hearts are fickle. They change so often, especially as teenagers. We think we know what we're doing, we think we know what we want. But things change and suddenly what we thought we knew is gone; what we wanted is broken. In the last year I feel like I've watched person after person get exactly what I wanted. It's broken my heart again and again.<br />
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If our home is where our heart is, our home is on fragile ground.<br />
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When I started writing this, I was coming to the conclusion that home is just the place, the people with whom we belong. That's isn't necessarily wrong, but it's still unstable. I've lost friends, people I felt I belonged with to, time or miscommunication or a complete lack of communication. Friend groups drift apart. Maybe that's not true 100% of the time, but for me that's been the reality most of the time.<br />
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So in those moments, when I'm crying out for home, what is it I want? Yes, I want people to belong with, friends who won't leave me. But what I really need is truth.<br />
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A few weeks ago, I started believing lies. Lies that I didn't belong, that I didn't deserve to serve my youth group, that who I was wasn't good enough for what God needed from me. I feared that my words, spoken and written, wouldn't be enough<br />
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Home is a place that ought to be secure. A place we can go when everything else falls apart. Where can we run? Where is our hiding place when the battle isn't ours?<br />
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|| "He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart." -Psalm 91:4 ||</h2>
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<i>Rampart</i> is usually a word we only hear in the national anthem. What it is is the first defensive wall around a castle. God's faithfulness is our first defense, the castle wall, and our last defense, the shield we carry.</div>
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This year, the most heartbreaking of my life so far, has been held together by one thing: <i>faithfulness. </i>When I was angry at God, I still held on to the truth that He is God, and He is good.</div>
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God's faithfulness is where my hope is fulfilled, where my courage is found, where my confidence stands. where the grace I so desperately need is found. Home is not where the heart is, where we slip and lose and fall without a light.</div>
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Home is in the steadfast defense of the Father's faithfulness.</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">"If I rise on the wings of the dawn,<br /> if I settle on the far side of the sea,<br />even there your hand will guide me,<br /> your right hand will hold me fast."<br />Psalm 139:9-10</span></h2>
Hadley Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05822080269131988623noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7117557474907541107.post-42556864576324993982016-07-08T23:52:00.000-05:002016-07-08T23:52:07.810-05:00When it Hits HomeI don't usually write responses to these sorts of things, even the biggest ones. Not because I don't care, but because I don't ever know what to say.<br />
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But this time it hit 20 minutes from my house.<br />
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Twelve police officers, twelve people shot, five killed. In Dallas.<br /><br />
How many times can we stick #BlackLivesMatter or #BlueLivesMatter or #AllLivesMatter on our tweets before we actually realize that's true? The value of life can't be summed up in a million hashtags. Prejudice exists, and it's good that we've brought attention to that. But now all we're doing is bringing attention to it instead of fixing the problem.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKlRwndCORVXRY2xScOhxxABxatCGPjZtFojHXLby4w4SIJbDoZU7_CEGJ3np12p0SkuQfNTz4-j7vi0GxaOkU1wI2jjMEG6Li5kPsmOvUONgMkq27cmwd4VYzLELNtRnWkoLAWNTWL2E/s1600/when+it+hits+home.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKlRwndCORVXRY2xScOhxxABxatCGPjZtFojHXLby4w4SIJbDoZU7_CEGJ3np12p0SkuQfNTz4-j7vi0GxaOkU1wI2jjMEG6Li5kPsmOvUONgMkq27cmwd4VYzLELNtRnWkoLAWNTWL2E/s320/when+it+hits+home.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
The problem didn't start with gunshots and protests. It didn't start with national outrage or Twitter trends.<br />
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It started with hearts. It started with people.<br />
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It started with people who didn't know the value in others. Maybe because they didn't know the value in themselves. The more we shout "#LIVESMATTER," the less we hear "you're valued."<br />
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Regardless of how many times we demand that lives matter, if we don't know why, it won't last. When we view people behind filters of race or occupation, when we push people into categories, we no longer see them as people. We no longer see them as lives. They become numbers and statistics. We can't love numbers and statistics.<br />
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Shouldn't that be what it's about? Instead, we've made it about tearing every other side down.<br />
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In the midst of this, my favorite social media post is <a href="https://twitter.com/OlanRogers/status/751595306828070912">from Olan Rogers</a>. It isn't long, but it means more than a lot of 1000 word Facebook posts out there.</div>
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<br /><i>There is so much potential for this country to be something special for generations to come but it all comes down to this one. We start listening to one another. We start to understand one another. We start to love one another.</i></h2>
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We need faith to believe that God is still working. We need hope to see that change can happen. We need love know that lives matter.</div>
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Lives matter because each one was individually crafted by God. Lives matter because each one is loved deeply by Jesus. Lives matter because each human being on this planet is worth dying for. Maybe if we realized that, people would stop killing people.</div>
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I hate that things like this happen. But I have hope that we can get better.</div>
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<i>"Now these three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love." 1 Corinthians 13:13</i></h3>
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Hadley Gracehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05822080269131988623noreply@blogger.com0