Teedbits because I’m a tad bit caffeinated and quite a bit drunk on the excitement and anticipation of the following days to come and I’ve been meaning to post for a while but I just write and edit and write and edit and never share because the words never come together as eloquently as I need them to to make their way onto this page. But, God does not require eloquence. And, the praising of Jesus with my sinful lips, my clumsy thoughts, my fickle heart – all the more praise to Him who brings beauty out of my brokenness.
Also – this quote by John Piper does so much more justice than I could ever verbally express so I just wanted to share it:
Whenever your heart starts to be anxious about the future, preach to your heart and say, ‘Heart, who do you think you are to be afraid of the future and nullify the promise of God? No, heart, I will not exalt myself with anxiety. I will humble myself in peace and joy as I trust this precious and great promise of God—He cares for me.
 “Broken yet beautiful.” Ash says this phrase as she prays over me and I turn it over in my head. I didn’t feel quite broken until she said it and when I recognized it, I felt my heart break into smaller pieces than they had previously been before. But – two sides to a coin; broken yet beautiful. The last word fills me with hope. God always gets the last word and He has promised me – this is not the end of the story; there is more to come, and it is good.
 I like drama. I believe I am a rather dramatic person (and if you think not, it’s because I’m good at hiding it…maybe). It is a tendency and temptation for me to get caught up in self pity, anxiety, grief, etc and just relish in the “injustice” (isn’t it just so easy to do so in the face of overwhelming pain?) So when I want to be cold, when I want to put on my RBF, when I want to just glare at everyone and everything in my way because I’m having a bad day and I want people to know it – Jesus reminds me of this: you know injustice because you have committed it; I know injustice because I have suffered it – who are you to say you have been treated unjustly?
 On days like this, I feel quite victorious. With chainsmokers blasting in my ears, the wind at my back, a skip in my step, I feel like I can overcome absolutely anything. And then I remember just the day before I was curled up fetal position, struggling to breathe, tears and snot streaming down and off my face, wondering what in the world happened because I was doing so well, I was doing so well. It is during times like these that the Lord reminds me that there are bad days to come, just as there are good days to come. But, He never lets me forget – He is faithfully persistent in not letting me forget – I give you as much grace as you need; I gave you enough grace for yesterday, I give you enough grace for today, I will give you enough grace for tomorrow and the days to come. But it is my grace alone that sustains you – not the sun, not the music, not your abnormally indomitable will to be plastically cheerful throughout everything – it is my grace alone.
 I have this irresistible need to be faithful. I’ve trained myself to think that I must be joyful in every circumstance, I must be ready to leap at any opportunity I have to serve, I must martyr myself for the sake of someone else. But, what I have come to realize over the first month of 2017 is that I am still an inherently selfish and wicked person and I spend the majority of my waking hours trying to pretend I am not. Nearly everything I do still stems from a works – based faith and a desperate attempt to hide my true self because my true self is uglyAF. In the rare moments where I am clear-headed and sober-minded, I can picture God face palming and shaking His head at me as I come to Him with every piece of my fake facade knitted as tightly together as I can manage. What are you doing, child? He asks, as He finds the loose thread and unravels all of me to reveal my crooked, bent out of shape body underneath. I see your selfishness. I hear your sick thoughts. I smell the filth of your sin. Do not try to lie to me and tell me that you’re strong, that you’re okay, that you can do this because I know every inch of you and I know you are breaking. Come to me as you are – come to me as you are – lost, broken, and hurting – because I love you as you are, do you not believe me? I love you as you are.
 It is such a strange place I am in – and a strange feeling that I cannot shake. I feel a sense of urgency and excitement – as if the Father has something so good prepared for me at the end of whatever season this is. I desperately want to hit the fast forward button (c’mon Jesus, you know patience was never a virtue of mine) but the wizened (HAH) part of my spirit tells me to calmTF down and just enjoy the anticipation that comes with the waiting. But, oh, the full faith I have in the fruit that is coming is so palpably tangible to me that I can feel it and I find it ridiculously hard to stop myself from bursting into tears and songs of praise as I think about the promises God has fulfilled for me already and hope in the promises He has yet to reveal. Because, He has proven to me, over and over again – You are so good to me, God, You are so good.