Scribbler.

Did you know that "scribbler" is a synonym for writer? It means, "a composer of written work" according to Dictionary.com. I want to be a writer. I've always dreamed of it, although I could never admit it until two years ago. It's part of the reason that I'm continuing on for my doctorate in clinical psychology. Why is this something I'd rather people not know about me, you ask? Well, thanks for asking. It's because I'm afraid to admit that I want something that I'm not sure I'll get. I don't want to try and fail. I don't want to be that person who always dreamed of being something and never became it.

But here we are, on this journey of vulnerability, where I'm being forced (okay, gently led) to lay down pride and be honest about who I am and the rough edges that are just as much me as my gold stars. Perhaps the rough edges are even more who I am, for who I am is a broken and sinful woman in need of Christ. I am so broken that I can forget how broken I am. The stars are just a reflection of a Light that isn't mine.

So in my brokenness, I am daring to admit to you that I dream of being a writer. Let's go one further. A writer who a few dozen people have actually read. A writer who has had some sort of impact. It's a risk, because there is a very real possibility that this dream will never come to fruition. And then I will be the 89 year old of whom someone says, "Didn't you want to be a writer?" But I pray two things: 1) that God will provide a way for me to write if indeed he has something that he'd like for me to say and 2) that if he doesn't, I will not regret trying or being bold enough to admit what I wanted. Perhaps it is in the trying that I will discover my true calling. Or perhaps it is in being brave (or silly) enough to try that my dream will come true.

I'm a procrastinator.

I'm a horrible procrastinator. I wait until the absolute last minute before I begin projects. I write papers in a single sitting, usually the night before. I only clean when I'm putting off doing some project or another. Even my blogs are typically late at night. In fact, this one is only early in the day because I am literally doing this instead of writing two papers that I have due on Thursday. I become productive in various other areas of my life when I am procrastinating in one.

I don't know why I'm like this. I joke often and say that it allows me to work faster and that, "If you wait until the last minute, it only takes a minute." While I do believe that is true, I often wonder why I can't treat earlier minutes as if they're the last minute. I wonder why I can't follow through on doing things early even though I know I'm racing toward a deadline pile-up that just may kill me (and if it doesn't kill me, will leave me stressed and sleep deprived and broken down emotionally).

I guess the fact that I know it's my own fault is the reason that I don't typically ask for extensions when it all hits the fan. I know I've put myself into a bad set of circumstances, and so I force myself to stay in them, knuckle down, and get everything done. But I find myself wondering... What would happen if I allowed others to offer me grace in bad situations? What if I allowed myself to ask for mercy and grace not only when I feel I might deserve it, but when I know I don't? Sometimes that means accepting consequences, and I recognize that. But I wonder how many times I have deprived myself of the humbling experience of being shown unmerited favor, simply because I choose to do things all on my own? Just because I can do something on my own doesn't always mean I should.

And so here we are, where even my discussion of my bad habit of procrastinating has led me back to the place of realizing how truly bad I am at vulnerability. At least I don't have to worry about being vulnerable again until 11:50pm tomorrow. :-)

Bieber Fever.

I watched the Justin Bieber movie. And I liked it. My sister and I rented it and fully indulged our Bieber Fever. Hate all you want, but this kid is talented. I don't own any of his songs or anything, but I will sing along in carpool dance parties riding down I-75 any day of the week. Mock away. Part of the fun of loving music (for me) is being able to enjoy the lighthearted alongside the heartrending lyrics that comment on the brokenness of our world. Life is all about balance. And sometimes you need a little Bieber to remind you to celebrate fun and innocence. Or at least I do.

Slutty Brownies.

I made these brownies tonight. They're called "Slutty Brownies" and I found them on Pinterest. Mmmmm. I could only eat three bites before I had to stop, because they are so incredibly rich. What makes this funny, though, is that I made and ate these while watching Biggest Loser. Dolvett would be so disappointed in me. And that would break my heart, because I am slightly in love with that man. My friend Megan can testify to this truth, as we watch Biggest Loser together (via text conversation) every week that we can.

So, take your pick of confessions from this post. I watch Biggest Loser. I eat really bad for me food while watching Biggest Loser. I'm in love with Dolvett. I thought I'd get several out all at once since I might not be able to post the next few days while I'm in Chicago. :-)

Choices, choices.

It was nice to take a short break. I think I underestimated how difficult this would be for me. To be honest, I didn't post at the end of last week because I simply didn't want to admit to the public what was going on in my world (I did continue to be exceptionally vulnerable in friendships, though, so I think I should get some partial credit there :-)). I gave myself a bit more grace, even while feeling guilty for not keeping my commitment. How feeble and frail we are! I think this Lent is all about God showing me how depraved I truly am.

Yet God continues to give me blessings, even though I'm oh so aware of how much I don't deserve them. I found out today that I've been accepted to Fuller as well as Wheaton. I truly thought that I'd blown the interview at Fuller, and can't believe I've been accepted. I really did want to only get into one, because I hate having to make decisions like this. I'd rather be told what to do than to find or create my own way. There's less pressure that way, less risk of failure, less chance to make a decision that I'll regret, less chance that I might let someone down or be judged for making a poor decision.

But God gives us choices for a reason. I'm not sure the extent of that reason in general, or why he's given me this choice specifically. But the choice has been given to me. So while I'm going to make this choice, I'd love to hear anyone who has an opinion weigh in! :-)

Being okay with not being okay.

Today, I was not okay. It doesn't really matter why I wasn't, and I don't say this to get sympathy or for people to ask, "What's wrong?" I have dear friends who took care of me and who loved me well, as they always do. The point is to admit where I really am and not pretend to be something else.

I felt selfish and foolish letting tears stream down my face in public. I stared out the window for hours when I was supposed to be doing homework. And it was good. It was right for me to do those things. Because to not do them would have been false. It would have been stuffing emotions that needed to rise up. Today, I needed to not be okay. And for perhaps the first time, I was okay with that. Tomorrow, I think I'll be okay. And I think I'll really mean it.

Freedom.

I don't like being in the spotlight. In the spotlight, people can really see you. And if people can really see you, they'll notice when you fall. If I'm hiding alone in the shadows, there is no one to notice when I make a mistake. I'm scared of scrutiny, deep relationships, and leadership, because I am afraid for people to find out that I'm not as good as they think I am.

I said this (or something like it) to my supervisor a few weeks ago. He looked at me with a slightly puzzled look on his face, then said, "But you're not as good as they think you are!" It was a simple observation. It didn't seem like he was trying to be particularly therapist-y at the time. He wasn't being mean or insulting. Whether he knew it or not, he was offering me freedom. I am who I am. If people think more highly of me than who I am, that does not mean that I must live up to their perception of me. Rather, my only aspiration is to live up to my true self - who God has created me to be, who I am at my core, who I am with all my muck and shame illuminated.

I sat with a beautiful woman today whose heart broke open to me, spilling shame and fear of being known into the space between us. I cried with her. I mourned her mistakes with her. And then God allowed me to speak grace into her wounds, as he has spoken grace into mine.

I am thankful for this journey that he has given me. It is stretching me and growing me. It is allowing me to step into ownership and authenticity, acknowledging my shortcomings and accepting grace for them. It is freeing me from the heavy burden of perfectionism one moment at a time. And I am thankful, for in moments like I experienced today, I know that I could not offer God's grace to this beautiful woman if I had not first allowed it to cover me. I could not have led her there if I had not allowed myself to be led there first. I could not have spoken to her out of a place of pressure and perfectionism, but only out of my own brokenness, freedom, and redemption. I cannot take anyone further than I wish to go.

And so I continue my journey, as I lay this part of it before you. I continue to choose risk, for it leads to redemption for me and for others. And I hope that you will choose risk along with me, so that we may all be prepared to lead with grace and freedom into peace that passes understanding.