Prepare, don't plan.

College is particularly talented at making you acutely aware of your relationship status. I’m fairly certain that universities were actually created as a social experiment and served as the world’s first dating event, roughly the equivalent of speed and online dating now. In college you are literally packed into a town with similarly aged people with way too much free time and little to no serious responsibilities. And this makes room for all sorts of relationships to form. And while most also create lifelong friendships, the one thing you are truly most concerned about is finding is your spouse. And anyone that tells you this is not the case is quite frankly, lying. Now I am not insinuating that this is the only reason people go to college. If that were my case I would certainly be at a Christian school picking through all the missions majors. However, even if it is not the motivating factor in receiving a diploma, it is certainly in the back of everyone’s mind with each passing school year and birthday. I will admit that I really didn’t believe this would ever concern me, growing up. I have striven to avoid most social stigmas and when people told me I would eventually have baby fever and want a husband, I brushed this off as emotions I wouldn’t have to deal with. And rest assured that baby fever is nowhere near me. In fact, I have the opposite of that. Baby anti-fever. But as embarrassing as it is, I confess my worry in the husband area has become a bit of a nuisance. I in no way believe I am ready for that commitment, nor do I really want to be. I have no interest in being married at this particular point in my life. But there are times that I would like to know that it is somewhat a possibility for my life. That being said, if I am honest with myself, I am very content with where I am now. I have achieved a balance that I haven’t had in a long time. You see, before when I wasn’t in a relationship or didn’t have some guy to fill my time with some sort of attention, it made me nervous. I had to be looking for the next one. And it’s not that I would define myself with guys, because I don’t. In fact, usually I do the opposite. I become so concerned with that thought that I keep my relationship almost a step away from secret, so I will still seem independent. But if I didn’t have a guy on the sidelines or backstage to fill my time or boost my ego, I was panicked. Especially if I was ever truly hurt, the way I would assuage my heartbreak was by simply, replacing. But God intervened. And it has been a turning point for me. Not too long ago, I fell down the tree of heartbreak and hit every branch on the way down. And when I landed, I frantically looked around, trying desperately to find someone to fix those bruises. Someone, as in another boy, to distract me from what I felt was a devastating loss. But for the first time in a long time, there was no one there. And not only was there no one there, but my challenge was increased by me moving to Houston, where I knew absolutely no one. And let me tell you, there were slim pickin’s in Houston, my friends. So there I was, bruised and broken with no one but God, girl friends, and kiddos. And you know what? It was the best thing that has ever happen to me, post-boy troubles. I spent a summer allowing children to heal me. I created close and honest friendships and truly allowed people inside my normally, tightly-sealed walls. And I learned to truly rely on God as my ultimate Comforter. And after a full summer of contentment I was nervous about coming back to school and being surround by couples and difficult memories. But God has continued to provide comfort and strength and I have found a balance that doesn’t require a man. A balance within myself that in no way comes easily or naturally, but has certainly made me better. I am beyond confident that I am in no condition to be in any sort of a romantic relationship right now, and what’s more I am CONTENT with that. So with all of that being said, why would I in any way be worried about a husband if I don’t even want a boyfriend? And the answer to that is simple. I’m not worried about a husband. Right now. In fact, it doesn’t even cross my mind on most days. It’s when I think to the future, when I foolishly try to plan my own life, that I get concerned. I am certain that God has called me into missions. I know that I was designed and created to go into the mission field and I in no way intend to deny God in that aspect of my life. But how is that going to work? Ideally, I would find a man that would want to do missions alongside, but what if I fall in love with an engineer? Will he stay here and I will travel and we will have a makeshift military relationship? Will that make me a bad wife? I certainly desire to fulfill the idea of a Godly wife, but which is worse, not living up to God’s expectations of me as a spouse, or as a missionary? I legitimately wrestle with these thoughts. And after I do this for too long, I start to think, well the answer to this equation is really quite simple, you need to be alone. Alone. That is a terrifying word. And this is when I start to hyperventilate. I am usually pretty good at living in the moment. I don’t stress over things that are in years to come. I struggle to see the point in that. But college essentially, is all about preparing for your future. Professors remind you of that daily. And I am basically throwing myself into a sea of unknowns. I suppose we all are essentially, but apparently I have to go big or go home because I really have no clue what the plan is. This past week we were given an assignment to chart out our financial plan for the next 10 years of our lives. He told us to factor in your spouse’s pay as well, if you were married or in a committed relationship. So all my classmates went and researched their nice stable jobs and talked to their cute little boyfriends and figured out what their lives would look like. And out of the 22 person class literally 17 of them factored in a spouse pay because they were either already married or that confident in their relationship. So that left me in a group of 5 others uncertain about that part of their lives. And out of that 5, 4 of them had at least their own job to be confident in, with a very detailed 5 year plan and 401K. And what did I have? A big fat question mark. Over the entire thing. And truly, I am fine with that. I am more than excited to be the hands and feet of Christ. But when people continue to urge you to look into your future and all you see are uncertainties, it can start to concern you. So this lead me to a 4 hour prayer. Literally, 4 hours of me and God just talking it out. And I am really not very good at praying. It is certainly where I lack spiritually. But I was so overwhelmed and so desired to pour my heart out to God that I sat with Him and we talked, for 4 hours. I was more than surprised to look up and see that much time had passed. And in this prayer I spoke to Him about all of these things, but mostly about my husband. Whomever he is. And the Lord brought me to this conclusion. It is my responsibility as a Christian woman, to prepare for my husband. And so I will. I will pray for him, and think of him. I will not make decisions out of impatience for him. I want him to feel cherished and cared for, even before we met. I want him to know that I thought of him, in every decision and kept away from things that would not be productive towards our relationship. I want to be considerate, and think about how my actions today will affect his feelings in the future. I want to wait, because I truly believe the man God prepared for me is worth waiting for. But what I have come to realize in these past few weeks is that there is a difference in preparing, and planning. God expects me to prepare for my husband, not plan for him. As of now the only person that should have any influence in my life, is the Lord. The other day I was looking at a mission opportunity I’m interested in after I graduate. It is a full year mission and as I was sitting here, falling in love with the idea of this World Race, I stopped and consciously thought, “But what if I am engaged? Or married? Or in a committed relationship? I can’t leave him for a year.” ELISE, who is ‘him’? There is no ‘him’. I am limiting God’s plan for MY life and HIS work by continuing to put a figurative man into the equation. Here lies the problem. It is appropriate for me to ready myself spiritually for meeting my husband, but it is no way okay for me to make decisions for my own life based on someone I want to meet. And what’s more, I don’t think that is how God works. He isn’t going to just give me the man of my dreams because I denied Him. So throughout hours of prayer and thought this is what I continue to feel God say to me. Not right now. I have always heard that God gives three answers to prayer. Yes, no, or not right now. And I always hated the thought of, “not right now.” I’d rather just accept the facts, come to terms with the answer, and move on. But here I am, continuing to be reassured by a stupid “not right now”. But truly, it has created quite a peace within me. I really believe that if I devote my life to Christ as I am feeling Him call me to do, if I give Him these years of my life and dive into His work fearlessly, He will fulfill my needs and desires in His time. I feel God whisper, “Focus on me. Do my work. You are more useful to me by yourself right now. So forge ahead. Do as I am asking of you. I will fulfill your desires later.” And maybe this is foolish. Maybe this isn’t God’s voice. But I can’t help but feel very certain that this is a spoken truth in my life right now. So I am accepting it. And I am finding peace and contentment within the “not right now.” I know that if God is withholding it, it’s going to be something great. For now I will live in my balance and constantly remind myself to trust, and not fear. To live, and not worry. And to prepare, not plan.

I prefer the little people.

Part of me really loves college. Truly, I do. I thoroughly enjoy the late movies nights, campus ministry events, and occasional class of interest. And I am sure that I will appreciate my college education even more in later years if it helps me achieve a job with a paycheck that prevents me from living in a cardboard box on the corner of the street somewhere. But I want to know who thought it would be a good idea to cram young adults together on a campus from the ages of 18-24 and think that would in any way be a functional environment. And not only are the maturity levels of each individual differing colossally, let’s also throw in people from other countries so we can have further difficulty understanding one another, as if humans weren’t complex enough. Now don’t get me wrong, I adore diversity. In fact, one of my favorite things about Troy is the amount of international students I get to experience on a daily basis. But with all these factors working together the concept of college alone is absolute madness.  If you are fortunate, and among the vast majority, Americans are born into a fairly regular home environment. They have a mom and a dad and sometimes siblings and they are raised in a home. And in this home, you are taught a certain set of values and core beliefs, whether this is taught verbally or through actions and example. You form your first few ideas about life in this atmosphere, and it shapes your outlook on the rest of the human experience either purposefully or subconsciously. You continue growing and you spend more and more time away from your home in other settings that both test your original beliefs and help you form new ones. But at any given time in your pre-college life, there were always people surrounding you that believed close to exactly what you did, and were extremely supportive of the lifestyle that assimilated with their own. If you were an only child and had never understood the concept of sharing, you went to elementary school and a teacher helped you along the path of learning such a thing, and that became a staple rule for being a part of that classroom. Everyone around you supported and adopted the same set of rules. Or if you went to middle school and your teacher asked you to write a paper on evolution and you made the decision not to, you had your family at home that stood behind you because of their faith that was the same as yours. But in college you live with, sit next to, and eat by people with a completely different set of beliefs and values. You can literally walk into a room on your first day and end up sleeping in the same room as someone with an enormously opposite outlook on life. And at times, that can be very exciting. I can’t even begin to describe all the things I have learned from people because they have been so wonderfully different from me. But it can also be quite discouraging, and lonely, and can very quickly make you feel as though you have lost all sense of community. This will be my third semester in college and I have certainly found a home in my church here. I know that when I need to be surrounding by people with the same eternal goal as I, my place there is always waiting for me. But I also spend many evenings just frustrated with people around my age. If there is one thing I have learned by being in college, it is that I prefer the little people. The hardest thing for me about being a young adult in a college city is the lack of children. 18-24 year olds positively baffle me. Even more so than middle and high schoolers. Because at that age, we had an excuse. We were young, our brains weren’t fully developed, our hormones were crazy, it’s part of being that age, etc. Fine. But I look around me at halfway grown adults and cannot even fathom what the heck some of them are thinking half the time. Somehow some people have wandered around on this earth for more than 18 years and have yet to learn a thing. And I don’t mean the freshman that come to school not knowing how to do laundry (although that is fairly ridiculous in it’s own right). I mean, how did we make it this far in life and still not understand or know how to treat PEOPLE. It shouldn’t be a foreign concept at this point. Not only have we been surrounded by people our entire lives but we also spend most of our education talking about, people. And these people are either discussed because they treated people well, or they treated them poorly. Think about it. Some of the most famous men you studied in history. Martin Luther King Junior, treated people well. Adolf Hitler, treated people poorly. Jesus, treated people well. Joseph Stalin, treated people poorly. Abraham Lincoln, treated people well. Osama Bin Laden, treated people poorly. So not only do we have enough life experience ourselves, we also have written examples of how to treat people, and how not to. MLK teaches us to treat people equally, while Hitler shows how NOT to handle bitterness with a particular race. Jesus teaches us to treat people with love and kindness, while Stalin shows us how to be a murdering jerk. And Lincoln teaches us how to treat people with respect and show honesty, while Bin Laden shows us how to be a real coward. But after all of these things we STILL manage to mess this up on a daily basis. We cheat and we lie and we hurt people regularly. And we convince ourselves the things we do aren’t a big deal. I’m not putting anyone in a gas chamber, so lying to my friend isn’t that deep. But remind yourself of a time you were lied to, and be honest with how deep that hurt really goes. Anytime I sit down to talk to my friends here in Troy, 97% of their stress is not based on actual school or financial problems or health issues. Almost always their problems are rooted in people. Other people trying to survive this life just as we are that somehow can’t manage to treat each other with respect. I appreciate that golden rule of “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you”, that’s certainly a valid point and something to be thought about. But let’s take a second. This verse, is found once in the Bible. That’s the only time they bother to bring it up. But in the King James Version of the Bible the word “love” is used 310 times. I certainly think that is a testament as to what our motives should be. Doing unto to others as you would have them do to you, comes from such a selfish place. It’s a good illustration, but it’s easy to confuse why we are acting the way we are. Is this so I don’t get bad Kharma, or do I truly care about how my actions are affecting others? But if we can grasp the concept of love, if we can embed that in our hearts and make that the sole motivation of our being, we could start of revolution. A revolution of people that cared. And it would be weird. People would notice. Because that is not our natural inclination. It’s not a part of human nature. But what if every action we made in a day, was made out of love?  We didn’t lie, because the thought of hurting someone else with false words would break our own hearts. We wouldn’t cheat, because we would love ourselves enough to do things correctly and courageously. There would be no sexual impurity, because we would care about our partner enough to guard his or her mind and soul. There would be arguments, because the need to be right would seem unimportant against the feelings of another person. I think that is why children are so easy. Love IS in their nature. It is as simple as breathing. They radiate purity and wholeness. Being around them heals me. They make me a better version of myself. And I miss that. But I am being called to a greater challenge right now. And that challenge is greater only because of my own flaws and shortcomings. I struggle to connect and understand college kids. And sometimes I get frustrated and want to shake them until they understand. But one of the most exciting things about being here, especially among our campus ministry, is watching people transform and seeing them “get it”, and being a part of a group of people that’s focus is above.  I am in no way doing this living thing perfectly. I know that I fail daily. But I also know that everything starts with a single step. So let’s start a movement of love.

Joy in the trials.

Sometimes, I like to throw myself a pity party. Mind you I try to keep these parties to a minimum, and I tend to only invite a few people, but occasionally I find myself sitting on the floor of somewhere crying over my really not-so-rotten life to some poor soul that is stuck listening to me because they were foolish enough to offer. This person usually ends up being my dad, and because we no longer live within the same house, it’s usually over the phone so he has really no way of escaping. Poor guy. To defend myself, I’m being dramatic. It is very rare that I allow myself to do this. But sometimes, especially as a female, you need to sob and ramble on about every terrible thing that has happened to you over the past five years. Or longer if it’s a real good come apart. So the other day one of these scarce break downs happened upon me and I found myself on the phone with my daddy telling him all about how much I was hurting and how awful it was and after consoling me on the situation for a while my dad finally said, “Well, just another learning experience out of the way.” I of course responded with, “But dad, I’m TIRED of learning experiences..” because I wasn’t quite done feeling sorry for myself, but distance from the conversation, and some healing time, has allowed me to look at that statement and find it to be comforting and even slightly, joyful. How selfish of me not to yearn for “learning experiences”!! Because even during the terrible, awful, no good, very bad ones, you grow. And growth is a beautiful thing. I believe losing Bailey was absolutely essential for my adulthood. That statement in and of itself sounds terrible, but it’s something I am truly convicted in. God used that to prepare me. He taught me things in that horrifying experience that have made my life today, functional. For example, I used to absolutely stink at accepting any form of help. And asking for it? Simply out of the question. When I was dealing with things I wanted to be left alone. I wanted to crawl into my little corner of the universe, take an hour or two to deal with it, and then come out, and move on. And I wanted the whole world to move on with me and not pester me about it. If I said I was fine, I was fine. And for anyone to come in and pet on me or attempt to comfort me or offer me anything of any kind, was offensive to me. I don’t need your help, I didn’t ask for your help, I am not your project, good bye. But when you have a congregation of roughly 750 members all doing their best to give you what you need in EVERY possible form, you learn (QUICKLY) how to graciously accept their advances. I also used to be terrible about acting like things didn’t happen. Especially in any sort of romantic situation. If there was a break up I pretended that person had died. Completely disintegrated into the earth, gone to all those that knew him. And I never dealt with any of my emotions. I just convinced myself and others that I was okay, simply by acting like I was. And then God showed me I couldn’t handle everything in life that way. Then I used to have a really bad habit of feeling as if I always had to look like I had everything put together. That is one I struggle with to this day. I have this ridiculous need to have my perpetual game face on. I must look strong and never weak, because the weak get taken advantage of and the strong are respected. But I have learned there is something beautiful about a humble heart and a broken spirit. And recently, I have adopted a method of self-preservation that has opened my eyes to a completely new world. I don’t always have to do what makes me look confident or like I have it all figured out. I don’t have to win the “who is most over this situation game.”  I am at peace with stepping away from that fight and doing what’s best for me, even if that makes some question my inner strength. Sometimes you have to find your own peace, and be okay if it’s not how everyone else seeks it.  I’ve always laughed at the verse in Romans that says we should rejoice in our sufferings, because it produces endurance. It’s one of those verses that I look up and God and think, “Come on, you’re a smart guy, you can’t actually think we were going to be able to do this, right?” And I can’t say that I have done any rejoicing lately over the fact that Bailey isn’t here. But I will say I have come to a place where I can find joy in her memory, and peace in her death. Contentment in missing her, and confidence that this is exactly how it was supposed to be. I don’t enjoy life’s “learning experiences”. I think it is safe to say that nobody does. But God, my Almighty Father, Creator, and the Great I Am holds me in His righteous hand. And through all the things He has pulled me through, I am confident that He will not fail me today, or tomorrow, or the day after that, or any day to come. And that faith will always bring me the comfort and peace that I need.

Content

I am naturally a happy person. It is not hard for me to find joy in everyday life. I don’t require anything extravagant, the simple fact that I am breathing is enough to make me smile. And for the most part, it’s hard to take that away from me. I have worked on learning not to let others dictate my outlook on a single second, for every second I allow myself to be bitter because of someone else’s actions, I give them the control of my own. Happy is not an issue. My biggest struggle as a human being, is contentment. Many people would believe that those are one in the same, but I believe that they are incredibly different and frankly contentment is a far more difficult state to reach than happiness. The word happy is defined as “delighted, pleased, or glad over a particular thing.” It is impossible for anyone actively involved in the human experience to not have had a moment of happiness. Happiness is not contingent on circumstances, it is simply a feeling created by a particular thing regardless of its surroundings. And because “happy” is a reaction, it can change just as quickly. You can have a moment happiness, but contentment is an actual state of mind. Content is defined as “being satisfied, an eased mind.” Now that’s tough. The past year and a half of my life has been one big decision after another. Do you go to college right after Bay dies, or do you wait? Do you go to Houston, or do you stay? Do you take the Disney internship, or go to school? Do you go back to Troy, or try somewhere different? And each decision has thrown me into completely different cities with completely different people and completely different plans. As difficult as that could be at times, I love change. I feel that if I am always moving, I am always growing. I am terrified of becoming complacent. I never want to become too comfortable, if I am always searching I will always discover, and with discovery comes continued awestruck wonder in my God. But here I am, at 19, and I’m stuck. Confined by superficial expectations and social stigma, going to a four year college to get a degree in “who knows what” to do “who knows what” with my life. And the frustrating part is, I KNOW what this is life is about. I understand and believe with no doubt that the only thing my heart and soul should yearn for is my Lord and Savior. I get that His spirit is my breath and life and all I want to do is praise Him and spend my life encouraging His followers and worshipping Him for all of His greatness. All I want to do from the time I wake to the time I rest is SERVE HIM. But I have to have a degree? I need a resume? And beyond that, this life requires money? And I have to find a way to make money, so that I can pay money, to serve? How incredibly frustrating! So I cry out to God, “I want to be sent, I want to GO, I am ready to go and be that disciple!” But God says, “Wait.” And I respond, “I am tired of waiting!” But God replies, “Be patient.” And I reason with God saying, “You have given me a spirit that is willing to move. I have the heart of a nomad, and I have learned all I can here, send me.” But God says, “Find peace, and be content.” I tend to wander. And when I go on these wandering quests I will walk, sometimes for hours, with these thoughts wrestling themselves in my mind. And lately I have focused these thoughts into prayers and my prayers have become centered around the sole idea of contentment, and what that could mean for my life. I can’t name a time in my life that I can honestly say I was content. I am never satisfied. I am always looking for the next thing and sometimes in spite of my drive and determination, I get ahead of myself and neglect the things that could be worked on now to look into the future on what can come next. My Father knows this. He knit me inside my mother’s womb. He created in me a spirit of fearlessness but allowed Satan to plant the seed of discomfort. And there comes a point when you must put aside your strength, in order to address your weakness. I may not be a huge fan of education, and I may not see that point in it at all. I may be ready to know what my life will look like. But right now, God is calling me to be content. To find ways to grow where He has placed me, rather than look for the next place I can go. To excel in the little things, until He has something bigger set up for me. To allow myself to be satisfied in His spirit, and let the rest fall into place. To ease my mind and shut out the doubts whispered by Satan, and be confident in the person I am being right now, whether I feel I am being extraordinary or not. Extraordinary people are not created by searching for ways to become great, they are found in the moments that greatness was required and they were brave enough to stand. My sister had a way of pouring herself into everything she did. I have a terrible habit on focusing on one thing and being completely perfect in that, but allowing everything else to fall to the side. Not Bailey. She found a way to achieve a balance and because of that, showed Christ in all aspects of her life. So my focus for this semester is just that. Aside from working on my patience, I am praying that I find contentment. And in finding contentment I achieve a balance. A balance that allows me to throw myself into everything I do full force with the simple motivation of showing Christ through it, so that all I do reflects my love and dedication to Him. Only bad part of having Bay around as such a great example is she made it look so easy. Hard to live up to that stinker, but I don’t mind living every day trying.

All I can say.

Dear Bailey,

At three years old, I was granted the greatest role of my entire life. At the time I was unaware of its implications and the true severity of this honor God had given me, but nonetheless I became the older sister of a blonde haired, green eyed little girl. You came into my life quietly, and remained that way most of the time. You were sweet, and passive, and happy to do whatever I wanted. And you did. We would play tea party for hours, but only if I got to pour the tea. We could play pretend for days, but I had to assign the parts. And you normally ended up as a tree or the male. Yet after all this abuse you still found a way to absolutely adore me and rarely had any problems with any of my stipulations. Maybe you didn’t know better. Maybe I was intimidating or convincing. Or maybe you just understood that loving me, was more important than beating me. But those things were small. No harm done there. We were children. We lived in light and danced in happiness. But things changed. Teenage years came around and the light turned to dark and confusion was the only thing dancing and I became a person you didn’t recognize. A person you couldn’t possibly have been proud of. A person you were ridiculed to even be associated with. But with a strength I will never understand, you managed to love me through it. You could spend a day at school filled with people trashing my name and telling you dreadful things about me, but you could still come home and lay on my bed, and ask me about MY day. You believed in me, when very little had the ability to do so. And then I came back. The light wins, victory is ours and we are reunited again. For a little while. But then someone needed you more. For whatever reason you were called away from this earth and for the first time in our lives, we were separated. But I persevered. And here we are a year later and the light is still prevailing. And when I think of these things, I can’t help but feel like I have heard a form of this story before. There seemed to be another man that loved those that didn’t deserve his love. A man that was ridiculed for his seemingly immoral company. A man that believed in those that no one else could. A man that was taken from this earth to serve his higher purpose elsewhere. And it completely baffles me that my entire life I looked for Jesus. I looked for a living breathing person that I could see Jesus in. And as I was searching, God continued to throw the answer in my face. I asked you to move over so I could see past you and continue looking for this outstanding example. But you were right there. YOU were what God was trying to show me.
There are no words for this day. There is no way to form thoughts around the dread and anxiety that comes with this date. You my dear, may never understand the tremendous impact you had on this earth. Even if I were able to tell you, you would not believe me. Sometimes we play the “if it had been me” game, but I have found such comfort in knowing that God planned this perfectly. Your voice, even in death, is so much louder than mine. And I tried my entire life to be loud. But that wasn’t the point, was it? Because while I was putting on a show and trying to PROVE who I was, you were just quietly living it out. And that’s what made the difference. You didn’t need a stage or a flashy song, you were happy to humbly serve your God in your way. And that’s the real lesson here. The loudest voice, the moving leaders, and the most effective examples are quite simply, the sincere.  The Christians that are willing to live out their lives humbly, and possibly without any credit at all.
You need to know that I am fine. In fact, I am the lucky one. I got a chance to spend 15 years of my life with the greatest person this world has seen in a long time, and I even had the honor of calling her my sister and my best friend. I know I will always miss you. And this will hurt in years to come. I will want you at my wedding, and that is not possible. I will want you to be an aunt to my children, but that cannot happen. I will need you when our parents die, but you cannot be here. I will want you to grow old with me, but that is also out of reach. And I wont lie to you and tell you I wont cry. There will be days that I am angry, and days that I am happy. Sometimes I might be bitter, and others I might be positive. There will be days that I triumph in every way, and there will also be days that I sit in the bottom of the shower and bawl. But that’s okay. I count it all as gain. I am so thankful that the Lord gave me someone that was this hard to lose. This kind of love doesn’t always happen, and I cant imagine a life where this didn’t hurt as much as it does! Because that would have been a life without your love. So after a year, here is what I need to say.
Thank you. For being the most caring, compassionate, wonderful sister a girl could ever have.
 I’m sorry. For all the times I made it difficult to be my sister.
And here’s what I ask of you in the future. When I grab my necklace know that I am directly connecting with you. It’s my way of holding your hand. When I sing, know I am at my happiest, and you need not to worry. When I speak, know that I feel wildly accomplished and your always in the crowd in my head. When I give, know that I usually picture you as the recipient. When I write, know that I feel closest to God. It’s the one time I am able to strip down my walls and truly be a vessel. I feel the Holy Spirit move through my fingers and I would have never known about this channel without you. When I scratch the back of my neck, know that I am stressed and I could use some peace if possible. When I run, know that I am trying to clear my head, and help me keep it empty. When I cry, know I need to feel you there. I don’t care how, I just do. And when I smile, know that a large part of any happiness is due to you. And whenever either of those precious boys needs me, KNOW I will be there no matter what.
There is no graceful way to end a letter to Heaven. I really do not know if you “read” these or how any of that works, but I believe that in some way, you receive whatever message I am trying to send. I hope that after this year you are able to look down on me with some sort of pride. It was hard, but I did it all for you. I miss you, and I promise I will never ever stop trying. Every day I will wake in the morning and actively pursue the Lord and I will do whatever it takes to make it to you one day. And to bring everyone that I can with me. I love you sweet sister. Thank you for everything.

Your loving big sister,
Elise

Year One.

If you are ever a part of a funeral, you will find the phrase you hear more than any other is, “Time heals.” I’ve heard this before, and even applied it in certain times in my life. And in all other situations this is normally applicable. In middle school when rumors spread and you are the center of ridicule, you feel as if it is the absolute end of the world, but you soon learn that if you wait it out, two weeks later the ever so intelligent minds of middle schoolers will find someone else to talk about. In high school when you and the “love of your life” have broken up you feel certain that you will die right then and there from utter sorrow and separation anxiety. But after a month or so you find yourself back out with your friends, sometimes slowly mending, but eventually returning to your original state. But death is not that way. Because there is nothing to return to. Time doesn’t HEAL. Because healing would imply that it could be fixed. You refer to healing when you are speaking of a broken bone or a scrape. And you use the term “heal” because doctors or experts of some sort believe that the bone will grow back together and be just as good as it was before. And be normal. And when a cut heals it mends and tiny skin particles lace intricately to make it seem as though you were never hurt at all. And that’s healing. But there is no healing after death. It’s like becoming paralyzed. With assistance, you might be able to do most of the things you used to do. And you might even be happy again. But you will never go back to the way you were before. You will still look down every day and realize that you are paralyzed and remember how you got to be that way. You have to make almost every decision you made before, differently. Bailey is the first thought I have in the morning and the last thought in the evening. She determines the radio station, the candle scent, the color schemes, the movie selection, and my dessert; because all of those things can completely change my mood. I can’t listen to For Good or I Will Stand By You because she named them our “sister songs”.  I can’t have anything lime green because that was her color. I can’t have evergreen candles because of our little joke surrounding forest smells. I can’t watch My Sisters Keeper because we saw it together in theaters and cried throughout the whole thing on one another’s shoulders. I can’t have red velvet cake because it was her favorite and my mother loved to make it for her. And maybe I will be able to do these things again. I will reteach myself how to bare these memories. But either way, that loss controls those thoughts.

Time has never been a comforting thing for me. It terrifies me to live in a world without Bailey and time only inches me farther and farther away from her existence. Which further solidifies the frustrating fact that I have no control over time. So maybe that’s my real anger towards it. This month, has been impossible. Every memory I have of this time last year, is fresh and bright.. and she is there. And then I fast forward to that night. And whatever memory I was attempting to enjoy becomes screeching tires and a fatal car crash. Every happy memory feels disgustingly fake and forced. Because I know what happens next. I know that doesn’t last. The year marker brings new fears and puts others to rest. I have told myself all year, if you make it through the first year, you’ve won. And that triumph will still be in place. I will take joy in the spite I will throw at the devil. He challenged me with everything he had, and he lost. But I am also acutely aware of how things will change after this year is up. People are understanding of loss, to an extent. But many believe that a year is plenty of time to be “okay”. And honestly, I believed that as well at first. I was under the assumption that once I covered the “firsts” it would be easier, and I would miss her less. But what I have had to come to accept is that I am in for a lifetime of missing her. There is no finish line for grief. Missing her will never stop. So like someone paralyzed, there is no healing, there is only coping. There is learning how to live without your original mobility, even learning how to make the best of it. But there is no way to be completely whole again. With that being said, there are plenty of ways to fill your life to its absolute fullest through Christ Jesus. And the Lord has blessed me in so many ways this year through this tragic and awful thing. My Lord has grown from my distant God to my comforting Father and knowing God in that intimate way has truly been the most rewarding part of this year.  So what I have learned about time is this, it does not heal, but it does teach. It gives you a chance to distance yourself from a situation and truly understand and appreciate the blessings that came from it. The friendships that were formed or strengthened. The family bonds you have a new found appreciation for. The church family you might have taken advantage of before, or the community you were convinced you wanted to leave.  I am not ready for it to be a year, but I can say I am so grateful to have made it this far. The support system I have is overwhelming and I can’t thank half of you enough for the encouragement you have given me this year. I hope I am able to give back to you all in some way in the future. For now, I will write. And in that regard, thank you for listening. The positive feedback I continue to receive has allowed writing to become my safe haven of expression, the one place I am completely honest and shamelessly naked. I hope God will continue to use it in His way. Here’s to the upcoming year of learning, may it be as rewarding as the last. God bless you all.

National Sibling Day.

I woke up today in a terrible mood. Which is very odd for me, but true nonetheless. God continued to give me opportunities to turn this around and make today a good day, and like the stubborn child I am I shot them to the ground and allowed myself to remain grumpy.  I wasted an entire day pouting. And I justified all of this simply because it is apparently National Sibling Day. Instead of scrolling down my Newsfeed or Instagram and smiling at the happy faces of brothers and sisters of my friends, I let bitterness creep into my heart and I frowned feeling sorry for myself. But by this evening I had finally had enough of my pity party and I decided to sit down and pray. And in this prayer I decided to tell God all of the reasons I was thankful He made me a big sister, and how grateful I am for each sibling He gave me. And here’s summary of what I told my Father.

Thank you for making me Bailey’s big sister. She taught me more in her short life span than anyone has. I’m sorry that I get caught up making excuses for myself, because I miss her. I know that she would not be proud of that. God, I’m thankful that you allowed me to be her best friend. There are many people in this world more deserving of that role, but I’m glad you let it be me. Thank you for sharing her laugh with me, and her smile. Thank you for letting me be her shoulder, when she’d had a rough day at school. Thank you for letting me be her cheer leader and letting me remind her that no boy will ever be good enough for her. Thank you for giving me absolutely no ability with musical instruments, so I could always be in awe of her when she played. Thank you for giving her long legs, so I can wear her sweat pants when I miss her. Thank you for sending your Son to die for us, so that she has the opportunity to live with you now. And thank you for giving ME the hope of Heaven so I may someday see her again. Help me to have a positive outlook on a future without her, and help me have the knowledge to understand that she is always with me as long as I walk with You.
Thank you for making me Drew’s big sister. His tender disposition and sweet heart remind me of Bailey every day. But thank you for the things that make Drew unique also. Thank you for making him much smarter than me, so that I may learn from him. Thank you for making him so thoughtful, because he is often the most understanding person I know. Thank you for making him strong, so that we can relate. Thank you for making us so different, so that we always find each other amusing. Thank you for letting me drive him places safely, because our car talks are always the best. Thank you for keeping him healthy, so I could always enjoy him. And thank you for giving him Bailey, he definitely deserved a big sister like her. Please continue to keep him safe, and continue to give me guidance and show me the ways I can be the best sister to him.
And thank you for making me Carter’s big sister. His goofy grin and energetic humor makes me smile constantly. Thank you for making him so much like me, because it is so fun to watch him grow. Thank you for making him funny, so he is always able to cheer us up. Thank you for making him resilient, so that he may live a life free of sorrow. Thank you for letting me watch him as a teenager, it made our bond even stronger. Thank you for giving me a voice, because we love to have loud sing alongs in the car. Thank you for letting me know You, I love telling Him all about You and Your promises. And thank you for also giving Him Bailey. I don’t know a child more deserving of her love. Help me to carry on that love and please continue to keep him healthy, happy, and safe.

I know there is nothing I could have done to deserve the honor of being the eldest Robinson. I try to remind myself and thank God every day for that blessing. Sometimes in the midst of a busy world, I get caught up with what I feel like is missing and instead of recognizing what I have, I cant seem to see past the giant void I feel. But today, on National Sibling Day I am going to be thankful. Thankful for the time I got with my sweet sister, and thankful for the time I get to continue having with my precious brothers. It is the greatest gift I have ever received.