An open letter to the children of divorce.

Hi love,

First I want to say that I am sorry that you have had to live through a divorce, whether you were 5, 25, or 65, it still hurts.

I am sorry that you had to watch the two people that created you fall out of love or finally admit they were never in love. I am sorry that you have had to go through that. Because no matter how old you are it is going to shake your whole entire world.

Divorce affects us all in different ways, but it affects us none the less. You may have been through a sticky and very very painful divorce where you were more of a game piece than you were a child, or it may have been an easy transition. You may have spent years after wishing for your mom and dad to become a unit again, or you may be thankful that you don't have to hear the fighting again.

If you were younger you may have been spared watching your family fall to pieces, or spared the never ending fights, but you lack any solid memory of being a whole family. Or you may not feel anything, and you may be missing something that you are not even sure what you are missing. If you were older maybe you remember the fights. All of the arguments. Or maybe you were caught completely off guard because you never heard the fights.

But you are affected in some way, shape, or form.

If your parents remarried after the divorce and had children with their new partner there is probably a larger gap between you and your half siblings. And no matter how well you feel like you fit in with them there is always something that doesn't feel right. They will always have Aunts and Grandparents that are not yours and likewise with your other side of the family. Maybe your parents are still civil and can have a conversation, or maybe they can't talk to this day, over 10 years later.

You may see how the divorce has affected you. You may see your need to always walk away from the situations that you feel are getting too vulnerable. You may see the different ways that you are afraid. Of commitments. Of trusting. Of staying in one place.

Maybe your childhood was so painful that there are a lot of things that you can't remember or maybe you remember every painful detail of your past.

You may be the only child between your mom and dad, or you may have several siblings who walked through that pain with you, either way, you'll feel lonely to some extent. And no matter how socially acceptable it is to be divorced now, the pain will never go away. At least not for you. Because you miss your parents. You miss calling them your parents instead of saying mom or dad.

Or you're tossing around the idea of who is going to walk you down the aisle because your dad and stepdad have shaped you so much growing up; or maybe it is who in your family is going to get your graduation tickets. Maybe you don't talk to one of your parental figures. Or you know the deep pain of losing one of your parents.

Either way, I am sorry. I am sorry that I have found you here, reading my blog, because if you are reading this, we share one of the same wounds. Words cannot express how much I want to be there for you in this. I want you to know that although it can feel like it sometimes, that YOU ARE NOT ALONE.

I am with you. All of us are with you. In some way, not physically, but we can understand to some extent.

So, you, my friend, know that you are not alone and that what you have been through is hard and painful and something that affects you in some way or another. You are more than just a statistic and your story matters. And please, please know that it is not your fault. Imagine me sitting next to you while we talk about what you have gone through or are going through. I am sending my love your way. Xoxox

You are not special. And here's why that is a beautiful thing.

Yesterday I told someone they were not special. And I waited as all the people around me opened their mouths in shock and shot me their judgmental glances.

I’ll say it again, YOU ARE NOT SPECIAL.

I say this not to put you down. I say this because it is the cold hard truth. You are not special and neither am I. Society has taken each child, sugared them up, and cushioned their fall— telling them that they are special and extraordinary and the best child in the world. This is seeing a child getting a participation ribbon because we don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.

Doing this ultimately sets a child up to fail. Life is NOT for sissies. It is going to be cruel to you and you are going to cry. You are going to have times when you want to give up and quit. And there is NO WAY to prevent or stop it.

You are not special. You are going to get hurt and you are going to fail. But guess what? That’s okay.

Did you hear me? That’s okay.

In this society of telling people that they are special and padding their falls, we forget that it is okay to be ordinary, and to fall.

You are ordinary. And ordinary people are the kind of people I want to surround myself with. Ordinary people are the ones that are behind the scenes. The people that are making things happen. These kind of people are the ones who know that life sucks, but it doesn’t stop just because you are hurt. They are the people who find something that gives them hope because they know that there is something more than participation ribbons. They know that they have to work for what they want and that what they want will not be handed to them.

Ordinary people focus on the nitty gritty tasks in life. They do the jobs that aren’t flashy. They are the teachers who love their students and stay after school to help a student who is struggling in their class. They are the counselors who are so spread thin that they feel they can’t help themselves let alone another person, but they keep coming back. They are the father who works late and misses dinner with his kids to provide food for them. They are the single mothers who have to put their children in child care so she can work meanwhile the other mothers judge her for not spending more time with her children. They are the college students who work while they take classes because they aren’t handed everything. They are the survivors— the ones who have been through the hard things and keep fighting. These are the ordinary people.

Society needs ordinary people. The Kingdom of God needs ordinary people. We need ordinary people.

So, no, you are not special. You are ordinary. And that is one of the most beautiful and needed callings to have. You are needed. You are loved. And you are enough. But my goodness, you are not special. You are ordinary. And that is a beautiful thing.

God's love, the reason, and Lacey Sturm.

Hi loves,

It has been a little while, but I have been busy, and doing a lot of self-reflecting as of late.

Yesterday we had a guest speaker in our chapel service at my college. Lacey Sturm came to share her testimony. If you don't know who Lacey Sturm is, she is the previous lead singer of the hard rock band Flyleaf, and if you don't know her story, look it up.

Go ahead, look up her testimony. I want you to hear it and I will still be here waiting after you finish it.

Now that you took time to hear her story, let's talk about that.

Lacey came to my school and shared what she had gone through and she let us all lean into the discomfort and the pain, not necessarily her pain and discomfort, but the pain and discomfort that we were feeling in that moment while we remembered the hard times of our lives. While we found a place of understanding and common ground of where she was coming from. Waiting for us not to only hurt for her, but also to hurt for ourselves. That doesn't mean that we had to have gone through the same experiences as she had, in fact, we didn't. But it means that we recognize her pain in her depression, her anxiety, hatred for people, her suicidal thoughts, the feeling of meeting God in her darkest moments, and can find those points in our lives. It is letting our minds wander to those darkest places and feeling that pain.

Lacey does a beautiful job of sharing her story in it's rawest form-- she is honest about what she has gone through and the discomfort that she felt. She doesn't try to sugarcoat it and she doesn't try to make it pretty.

She is honest. She is authentic. And she pours into everyone in the audience. She speaks truth, and she shares love.

Lacey shares what her story is and the pain that she felt, but she also shares the story of how God was moving and working in her life. She shares the hope that she felt, and she also reminds us that just because she became a Christian, her life wasn't fixed.

Lacey also performed a free acoustic concert later that night. This is where I bought her book, and then listened to her and her husband perform several wonderful songs. Some familiar, and some new. It was beautiful to hear her share the back stories behind the songs, and why she wrote or loved them. And it was even more beautiful to see her worshiping the Lord.

At one point, she shared a song called "The Mystery" which is about an interaction she watched between her manager and his daughter and she wondered what that is like, because her father was not part of her life. I snapped a picture of her raising her hand in praise where her tattoo that reads, "Daughter" is visible.

This is the picture I took.Her tattoo is faded, but if 

you look close enough you can see it.

I love this picture so much because while she is singing about the mystery of what it means to have an Earthy father and the pain that comes with that, she is praising the Lord. She is praising her Heavenly Father. And it just beautifully depicts that she has found her identity in Christ, and being His daughter.

After the concert, Lacey opened it up for a Q&A with the audience and then there was a book signing and she wouldn't leave until she saw and talked to everyone in line.

Lacey's story and how she has found redemption and love from that has inspired me so much. God has used her to touch a deep place in my heart. Her testimony was so encouraging for me to hear, and I know for a fact that others were affected by it as well.

I have faith that, I know that, God used her. He used her testimony. He used her heart to touch the lives of us here at Geneva. He used her to wreck our hearts. Not all of us, but several of us. God used her and her story and her hope and her burning love for Christ to wreck my heart. 

I am beyond thankful that she came to Geneva and shared, and poured into each and every one of us. And I cannot wait to get to start her book, The Reason. And I am thrilled for her new album to come out. 

Lacey, it is doubtful that you will ever see this, but if you happen to, know that you have touched my life and I want to thank you for that. Thanks so much, Sadie.

Light is stronger (Trek 2015)

Welcome loves!

I know that it has been a while! The end of my summer picked up rather quickly with two trips to the beach and a trip to New York City. And then I was due to be back at college for RA (resident assistant) training!

As an RA, part of our training is a four day backpacking trip called Trek. Trek was a new experience for me. For those of you that personally know me are well aware that I am not the "outdoorsy" type. I had never been backpacking in my life until I was on Trek. I wish that I could tell you that I had found a brand new hobby that I was going to participate in more often, but in all honesty, I didn't. There were times that I hated being on Trek. It was hard. And it challenged me in a lot of ways. I was very tired throughout the majority of the trip and was ready to come home the first night. But I am glad that I didn't. As uncomfortable as it was for me-- God used it as a start to change my life.

The second day of Trek we went caving. The hike to the cave was probably the roughest day that we did. It was about an hour of a complete incline. I was sweaty and gross and had to stop a few times because I was dehydrated due to not drinking enough water in the morning. I will admit that when I needed to take a break I was beginning to feel like I was more of hindrance to the team rather than an asset. I was overwhelmed and tired and close to tears. But the people I was with were really reflecting God's grace. They were all very patient and kind. One of the ladies who was a leader was very kind to me. She sat with me and talked to me; she did not rush me and make me feel like I was a hindrance. She was just present with me.

When we made it to the cave I was feeling nervous-- not sure if I was claustrophobic or if I was going to have a panic attack in the middle of the cave. I was not exactly looking forward to this experience, but it turns out that it was one of my favorite parts of our trip! Our guides names were Paul and Matt.

As we started in to the cave it was difficult to maneuver your body into some of the spaces, but it was do-able, and the majority of the cave was tall enough that you could stand straight up. We reached a big room of the cave where Paul had us stop and sit down. He had some serious analogies for light and darkness. He had all of us turn off our flashlights and just sit in the darkness (and you think you know what dark is, you don't. Not until you are sitting in a cave that is 200 feet under ground!). He was talking to us about how darkness will flee at any sight of light-- bringing it back to how Christ is our light in the dark places of our lives. We turned our lights back on and continued to walk through the cave, when we reached our stopping point, Matt came around and collected all of our flashlights while Paul starts to tell us that they are going to go hide somewhere in the cave and we have to come find them-- using only our bodies and team; we had to be touching the person in front of us at all times.

My group was so focused on listening to the person in front of them and making sure the person behind them was okay, that we were just making our main goal to be light. We expected Matt and Paul to be sitting somewhere with a light on so that we could see them.  We ended up actually passing them because they did not have a light on-- and we had the mindset of "if it takes to making it to the exit, than that is what it takes. We were so focused that we didn't hear their voices (we were a group of females, so a male voice should have stood out to us) or their whistles in attempt to get our attention. It wasn't until someone accidentally bumped into them that we knew we had passed them, in which case we had to turn around and walk back to them. They lit two candles.

You don't realize how much light two candles give off until after about 20 minutes of complete and total darkness. That's when the light and dark analogy really hit home for me and changed my life. I was almost in tears when Paul was expanding on light and darkness. That ANY amount of light will make the darkness run and flee. I don't know about you, but there have been times in my life that I felt as if I was surrounded by complete darkness and was 200 feet under ground and like there was no way out. As if I was throwing my body in every direction just to see if the ground I was going to stand on was solid and actually there, and while doing this acquired more bruises than necessary. But there is ALWAYS a way out. Christ is our way out. His light is always enough for us, even if as only appearing as a single flame from a candle. The darkness will flee with even the smallest glimmer of light-- the smallest glimmer of hope.

Later when we made our way back to camp to eat lunch before moving campsites. While we were all sitting around eating lunch, when a lady from another group (the same one who sat with me during breaks on the way to the cave) came down to ask our wilderness guides a question. When she left everyone was engaged in a conversation except for me-- so when she said goodbye I was the only one to hear her. I acknowledged her goodbye and smiled. She persisted to tell me that she was really glad she got to know me a little bit and hoped to continue to do so back on campus. And then she chose to speak out and say what was laid on her heart by God. She acknowledged my relational strengths and told me I had a beautiful personality; that I was going to be a good RA because of that. I thanked her and smiled as she departed from our campsite. She had brought me close to tears. I really needed to hear her words. I was feeling as if my gifts were invaluable because I didn't feel like there was a lot of room for me to use them on Trek. Almost all of my teammates loved the woods. The woods were their element, which as you can imagine made me feel a little out of place. I started to tell myself that I would be a bad RA because I wasn't good at backpacking and doing the wilderness thing, which is COMPLETELY irrational if you think about it. My lack of wilderness skills has NOTHING to do with my ability to be an RA, but comparison is the thief of joy (Theodore Roosevelt). I am happy to say that this wonder woman of God really spoke to me. She confirmed the work that I felt Christ doing in me. I am starting to realize that my strengths are just as valuable as the next person's and that I was created as I am in His image.

The rest of Trek was good, but also tiring. We had a day where we had a Solo time-- which is six hours alone. This is a time for you to reflect, pray, read your Bible, worship, spend time with God, or just think in general. This was one of my favorite parts of Trek. Being around my staff all of the time was definitely tiring out my introvert really quickly. And while this time was sort of eventful with the critter of the woods (daddy long leggers, beetles, and some other sounds from critters that I couldn't quite see), it was good. I needed time to wind down and regain some energy and I needed the time to process and reflect on everything that had happened so far on our trip.

The last day of Trek we ate breakfast, packed up and were heading back to the place we were meeting the rest of Res Life and the bus that was bringing us back to campus. I was kind of expecting an easy hike back with the team either on the road or on a path. Little did I know what was coming-- we were given a compass and split into groups of three to find our own way back-- not using the path or the road. I was not thrilled for this. I was actually just ready to be back on the bus heading home. But my group was great. I was with two other ladies that I love, and they kept me entertained and motivated (with some Disney songs and encouragement!). (:

When we were on our way back to campus, I don't think I have been too much happier to be heading to a place with running water, toilets, and pillows! But, I am glad that I was able to have the experience of bonding with my staff and brother staff. Those relationships are definitely worth the four days of not showering, squatting in the woods, lack of pillows, and a lot of critters running around at night! I wouldn't trade these relationships for anything.

As I am sitting here thinking about the fact that the freshmen are moving in tomorrow, I am feeling very excited, and a little bit anxious. I cannot wait to see what Lord is going to do this year and how He is going to use me to speak into these girls and my staff, and how He is going to use them in my life!

I will post again soon! Xoxox

Not just as Christians, but as a nation: We need to speak love.

"Kind words are like honey, sweet to the soul and healthy for the body," Proverbs 16:24

 

 

 

I think it is time to really think about this. Not just as Christians, but as a nation. There is a lot of hype about the fact that same sex couples are now allowed to get married in any state and how Christians are the judgmental ones in this world.

 

Christians, I just want to put some food for thought out there: you are a Christian, you live according to the Word of God, and try your best to follow those beliefs in obedience. It is important to remember that although homosexuality is classified as a sin in the Bible and we are called to speak Truth, that we are also called to speak Love.

 

It is important that we love someone before we "correct their lifestyle." When we love someone it means to put both of our differences aside and to see them as a person who was created by God and for God that has gotten lost on the way. We all have some things in our past (and present), and that is because every single one of us is broken. Sin is evil and Satan will use anything he can get his hands on to get a hold on our lives. That can be lying, an affair, murder, attraction to the same sex, shame, fear, and judging others as we see fit (just to name a few). We need Jesus just as much, and if not more, than those who are not living the "Christian lifestyle," and quite honestly it is no our job to judge others, we need not to stick our noses in someone else's personal life-- that is between them and God. You do not need to be in the middle.

 

We are also called to speak Truth. But, how can we speak Truth when we neglect to speak out of Love? It is important to remember that we need to earn the right to speak into someone else's life. You cannot just go around pointing out other people's flaws and brokenness; you have to build a SAFE relationship before you can even begin to think about speaking into their lives.

 

Non-Christians (and also Christians), you may feel jaded and hurt by some comments said by a "so-called-Christian," and I am very sorry that you have been hurt in such a deep way. You have every right to feel that pain and to process it; know that we are not perfect either, and we will make mistakes and run our mouths before we examine our hearts. We are people, just like you are.

 

I am sad to see "Christians" react in such an outspoken and judgmental way. That is not what the Bible says we are to be like, and we also have gotten life this way. We are also broken and sinners.

 

But it is important to remember that we are hardwired for connection.

 

We must remember that we are built for connection. We are built for compassion. And when we live in shame, or shaming others that we are setting ourselves up for disconnection.  (for more information on this, check out Brene Brown's book Daring Greatly) We need to speak love.

 

Love is standing bedside someone and being with them through that hard things, and practicing empathy when it is easier to practice yelling at another. It is being beside someone, despite your differences and lending a helping hand, or encouraging word when they need it. It is humbling yourself to see the brokenness in another person (or group) and holding your tongue from insults and judgment.

 

Regardless of what you believe, what gender you are, what your political party you are a part of, what your sexual orientation is, or any other defining factor you are human. We need to feel connected to other people, and we need to feel loved.

 

Summer: tanlines?

Hi friends!

If you know me in the slightest, or can see my picture you know that I have very fair/ pale skin-- I am Irish and German-- which means that I burn. A lot. And I hardly get anything to show for it.

I am going to the beach in July, and my mom (who is not that fair) told me to get a base tan before we go. She was just trying to help me so that I did not burn as bad, and in her mind, this would help. But really it doesn't.

I got burnt 4 times in May alone this year-- none of those burns were "good tan lines," or intentional. I realized that although I have gotten burnt and I did not peal, I was still not getting "tan," I got some color, but to anyone else I just looked too pale.

I swear I am tan. Really I am. (this was taken this year, 2015)

If any of you are fair-skinned you know what sunburn feels like. 15 minutes can make you as red as an apple, and you basically have two different states-- lobster or ghost. And you are most likely used to the pain of sunburn by this time in your life.

I used to lay out with no protection to try and get a tan, but I only burned. I would then hold out and hope that my burn would turn into a tan. And out of the 20 years I have been alive, there was only one summer where I was really tan.

This is my only "real tan" from 2010.

 

 

Now compare it to the picture taken this year (see above). There is a BIG difference. And sure, I like the 2010 picture better, and I wish my complexion could be that dark all the time, or at least every summer, but it has happened once, and I am sure that it will never happen again. Like I said, I am Irish and German.

 

 

We all know that the sun is bad for our skin and can lead to skin cancer. It is proven-- in many, many, many studies. But even so, when summer rolls around, society tells us that we should be tan. And that pale is bad. If you are too pale you just do not fit in. Everyone comments on that, "Wow, you are SO pale!" or "Hah! I am tanner than you. I am never tanner than anyone!" or "You are so pale! Why don't you lay out for a while, or go to a tanning bed? It will definitely help!"

 

This summer I have really been thinking, I put sunblock on all of my tattoos so the ink won't fade-- if the sun can fade the color of tattoos, what is it REALLY doing to my skin? What is so bad about pale? So bad about not getting skin cancer? Not having aging spots when I am 20? What is so bad about that?

 

Sure, I don't "fit in" with society, and the pale comments will never really end, but I have come to peace with my paleness. I have fair skin. I will not tan. I will burn. Either way, I am damaging my skin. I am pale. And if nothing else, I will not damage my skin as much, and on the bright side (literally), my legs almost glow in the dark, so in the summer cars will see them before they hit me. They practically glow in the dark! (:

A voice for children of divorce

I am a child of divorce. Multiplied by two.

When I was 6 years old my mom and my dad split-- it was not an easy divorce; it was loud and messy. I spent years listening to each parent throw a spear in the others direction hoping to hit, but mostly only missing in frustration. That is when I was pulled into the middle. I grew up feeling like I was more of a game piece in their war of divorce that did not end until I turned 18 in May 2013. And even then, it was not until I laid boundaries down that it slowed to a quiet hiss under the surface that we mostly ignore today.

I was free. That's what I tried to believe anyway. But I knew that my dad and step mom were separated and it was quickly going downhill. I went to college in the Fall and tried to leave all of that behind me. On occasion, I would get a text or a phone call from my step mom, my dad, or my gram telling me about all of the drama that was going on. October of 2013 my dad and step mom's divorce was final. I was not sure what this was going to bring, but there was one thing that I knew-- I would not play the middle man this time around. Now, I thought, I am finally free.

And it was true, at least physically. I did not get caught up in the middle of all of the drama. I was not relaying messages to either of them. I was off doing my thing at school. That was until I felt the nagging emotions eating away at me. I tried to push them back down and bury the pain that came along with it.

I kept it to myself for as long as I could, but out it came like emotions always do. I was spiraling fast.

I started to realize that I had control issues, commitment issues, abandonment issues. and trust issues. I learned that these were a product of both divorces. I came to this conclusion when I read this post from Thought Catalog (click here to read it-- it is a great read about how children of divorce feel and how that plays out in everyday life. I highly recommend it). That post is one that accurately describes what it is like to be a child of divorced parents-- it talks about the thing that everyone-- including ourselves-- would just like to push under the rug and pretend that they do not exist.

There is many different ways that a divorce can effect a child. Some slip into depression and alcohol and drugs, while others search for love using their bodies as bait. And then there are those like myself.

I do not do drugs. I do not party. I am a virgin. But I am scared as hell to commit. To love. To be vulnerable. There are wounds that cut deeper than you can imagine-- scars in my past that play out in every day life for me. I am not depressed, but I have a natural bent towards those sad and dark and twisty parts of life and myself.

I have many broken pieces from these divorces, but I am not going to sit here and tell you all about them. I am here to be a voice.

I am a voice for the children of divorce.

Parents (or "Mom and Dad" as we refer to you as you are no longer a unit),

 

Know that divorce hurts. Not only you, but us (the children, no matter how old) as well. We are not immune to what is around us, yes we are resilient, but it hurts. And as much as you want to think that saying something about our other parent is not harmful, it is. As much as you want to use us to get back at the other parent, don't. Please, we are not a game piece for your petty games-- we are your children.

 

When we seem sad, ask us what is wrong. And when you find someone else to be with, take us aside and talk to us. Give us time to adjust; understand that we are not trying to make your life hard by being disruptive, we are just trying to adjust. If we are very young, we are probably still trying to figure out why Mommy and Daddy do not live together let alone why there is another man/ woman in our new house (and if we switch houses between you two, we are still trying to figure out what is home and what that looks like now).

 

Remind us that the divorce is not our fault and that you still love us-- remind us that the other parent still loves us too. Remind us of our self worth. Give us time to process and cry. And take time to spend time with just us.

 

Show us patience. We are trying to adjust too.

 

Do not tell us to hide our emotions, and PLEASE do not shame us for them. Let us take time to grieve our broken family, and to process how our lives have been turned upside down.

 

But most importantly, love us. Tell us that we are worthy of love.

 

Sincerely,

Your child[ren].