“Bag of bones and blood red cheeks
Guilty from the words I speak
Say the truth will set you free
But it won’t for me
Cause I’m uneasy in my skin
Hangin’ on by a thread
Life it hasn’t left me yet
But I won’t forget
Oh, the devil’s been talkin’
The devil’s been talkin’d”
— Needtobreathe, Devil’s Been Talkin’
Tenth Avenue North - You Are More
Mom,
I don’t even know what to call you; legally or personally because you’ve never been real before. Not real to me. You’ve always been just some person that I imagined. You’re just someone who abandoned me.
Who left me.
Even though you could take care of three other kids, I was too much. Because you didn’t think that you could fight. Fight to raise me as your daughter. You didn’t want the extra trouble. You didn’t want the hassle.
You didn’t want me.
So you gave me up to people that you didn’t even know, to a life that you didn’t have to be a part of. I wanted to find you. Run into your arms. To cry. To scream. To question you. I needed answers, even if I knew you wouldn’t have all of them.
“’Cause this is not about what you’ve done,
But what’s been done for you.”
For years and years I carried around this burden, not like a chip, but more like a mountain on my shoulder weighing me down. Because if I wasn’t good enough for my own mother, I wasn’t good enough for anyone. I was so mad at you, caught up in this place of anger and confusion.
But that’s changed. I never thought that I’d be able to be okay with all of this. I’ve healed a bit, maybe not fully but enough to feel something different toward you than before—gratitude.
Thank you for letting me go. You did the right thing.
“This is not about where you’ve been,
But where your brokenness brings you to.”
It’s true that you left me, but it’s also true that you gave me away, and maybe in that you gave me a chance. If you hadn’t given me away, so many things would’ve ended up differently.
I wouldn’t have gotten this incredible education that empowered me to seek out new information and gave me a love for literature. I wouldn’t have spent my summers on the Outer Banks of North Carolina where I fell in love with sailing and learned how to be a friend and a leader. Without a doctor as a father, Graves’ disease would’ve taken an even greater toll on my body than it already had. I wouldn’t have become a swimmer and then never had the opportunity to go to boarding school to pursue college scholarships. I probably wouldn’t have gone to Auburn University, a place that stretched and grew me, where I learned to rise to a challenge and to love in a whole way.
“You are more than the choices that you’ve made.
You are more than the sum of your past mistakes.”
I almost blamed you for all of my darkness. It would be easy to do. I was raised in a place I didn’t come from and felt like I’ve never belonged. Truth is, my life wouldn’t have been guaranteed to be less hard or dark or difficult if you had kept me. Maybe I would’ve even been hurt more and not had the resources I needed to be healthy or the people who helped pull me back together.
Maybe, just maybe, you helped save me.
“You are more than the problems you create.
You’ve been remade.”
I forgive you. Forgiveness may not be something you need from me, but it’s something I’ve needed to give you for a long time. I am learning my way through this life, stumbling and growing and loving. Maybe we can meet, or just chat, someday, but if we never do, know that I’m okay.
Thanks to you, of course.
—Caitlin
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"Are you not thirsty?" said the Lion.
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"I'm dying of thirst," said Jill.
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"Then drink," said the Lion.
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"May I—could I—would you mind going away while I do?" said Jill.
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The Lion answered this only by a look and a very low growl. . .
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"I daren't come and drink," said Jill.
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"Then you will die of thirst," said the Lion.
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"Oh dear!" said Jill, coming another step nearer. "I suppose I must go, and look for another stream then."
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"There is no other stream," said the Lion.
Screenshot’s from Audrey Assad’s “Blessed are the One’s” studio performance
Tonight’s Playlist
“Oh, Aslan,” said Lucy. “Will you tell us how to get into your country from our world?”. “I shall be telling you all the time,” said Aslan. “But I will not tell you how long or short the way will be; only that it lies across a river. But do no fear that, for I am the great Bridge Builder.”
— The Voyage of the Dawn Treader (via thevirtueoflife)
(Source: thebenfallacy)
Interruption
I know. I said I was taking a break. I did want to post this before I went to bed tonight though. Unless you and I are friends on Facebook or you’re saved as a contact in my cell phone, only a few of you would know that today is my birthday. I was born 23 years ago and still despite my adult age, I feel 14 a majority of the time. Today, however is not one of those days. Today is a day that I feel ancient. Maybe ancient is the wrong word…I feel…weighed down. Pensive.
Birthdays used to be my favorite days. The last four though ( 20, 21, 22 and today’s) have a different significance though. At age 20, a lot changed in my life. Four years ago today, I had just finished my sophomore year of college, and was just home for the summer. I was dating a girl I thought that I would marry. From the outside, she and I had a pretty healthy relationship. We appeared to be focused on Jesus, we both studied hard in our classes, and after 8 months together we were fairly convinced that engagement and marriage were soon to come. My twentieth birthday hit, and I celebrated without her because she was 4 hours away helping her parents move. I spent the evening with my folks, but all day, I had felt God urging me to get away from the hustle and bustle of my home and spend time with Him. I spent a majority of that evening in my office at church, weeping into my carpet because God had finally, after months of sexual sin, broken by calloused heart. I could not faithfully serve Him and serve my sin at the same time. That break up was messy, and I’m not exaggerating when I say that it almost killed me.
For the better part of the next year and a half, I fought depression and even suicide. I was convinced that the magnitude of my sin against God was not forgivable. I was buying the lie that I was too dirty for God to cleanse. I was so guilt-ridden that I thought suicide was the only answer and I got really close on two occasions.
It took the loving words of a psychology student, a Professer, a married couple, and the girl I call Lightning Bug, to really see that God loved me. I came to realize that Gods grace is far superior to my sin. I came to realize that on the cross, Jesus took my guilt and my shame and my shortcomings and didn’t merely take them away from me, He exchanged his righteousness for mine.
By 22 I was in this healing process of accepting all that has been done for me in the work of Jesus on the cross. I don’t think I’ll ever be out of it, just that I’ll continue grow in it, and that’s a good thing.
There is the story of Joseph in the Old Testament, and in Joseph’s story, even after everything seeming goes against him, there is an assurance from God, an assurance that says that was intended for evil, God works together for good. I’ve found that to be true in my life as well. My break up on my 20th birthday opened a door that let the devil have an open door into my circumstances and work a lot of things against me. My school work suffered, my friendships suffered, my relationship with Christ suffered and my ministry efforts suffered. Maybe it sounds morbid, but during the time I considered suicide as a valid option, I thought a lot about death. I wondered how it would feel, would I be missed, would I feel a tinge of regret as my life ebbed away.
Remember Joseph though, and that God works together for good? I’ve discovered, by Gods grace, that he can even use the things that nearly kill us for our benefit. Here’s what I mean by that: I have the opportunity over the next two years to visit Haiti and Africa and possibly India doing mission work with the new church I’m moving to. I’ve known for two years now that I have been called to mission work in the far reaches of the world. That carries a level of danger though. I could end up in China or a Nation that could demand my life for preaching Jesus. I’ve found out that the questions and the uncertainty I had when I courted my demise at my own hand, I no longer have because of the hope I have in Jesus. I know now that I will, if I must, surrender my life for the Gospel and in the name of Jesus.
Birthdays are still my favorite days, but they carry a different meaning to them now. The Psalms tell us to number our days. King Solomon spells out the brevity of life and Jesus assures his followers that he has conquered sin and death, and that if we follow him, we will share in the resurrection from the dead.
I will give my life for the Gospel. I have no qualms about that.
But I will use the years I have left, be they 1 or 70, building not my own kingdom that will collapse and fade away with time. Instead, I will give myself even more to furthering the work of the Gospel. To binding up the broken-hearted. To loving my neighbor. To being a father and a husband. I will give away this fragile life of mine with joy, because my hope is no longer in this life, but in the next, with King Jesus who bound up my broken heart, healed my inequity and saved my life when I was close to death.
Here is to the next 70 years, God willing that they come.
“Don’t be scared to walk alone. Don’t be scared to like it.”
— John Mayer, Age of Worry
Leaving again. Focusing on other things. Be back in June.
It’s here!!!! Born & Raised (Taken with instagram)
