i doubt it.

I'm about to be really overdramatic for a bit here, but it's my blog and it's 1am and I'm feelin' it, so it's going to happen. I'm not even going to apologize. Here we go.

Every year, when I answer the question "How old are you?" or "What grade are you in?", my voice gets a little quieter and my laugh a little more nervous. It's not because I'm embarrassed about my age. I have far more important things about which to be embarrassed. No, my voice gets quieter from the growing sense of fear inside me. Not fear that you're going to ask the question I know is coming (aka "So what are your plans after high school?"), though I do absolutely dread being asked that question. Nope, we're talking about the fear of the unknown.

The unknown. Lemme tell ya: That vast abyss of "I don't know where I'm going or what I'm doing" gets me. It hits a nerve. It honestly just scares the heck out of me. And here I am, entering a year full of that unknown that just seems to keep getting bigger and scarier. I am increasingly becoming more and more okay with hiding in my bed under my Pooh Bear comforter and Curious George blanket with my big stuffed monkey for the next several decades.

And then, to make life a little more exciting (and a little more terrifying), here comes the doubt. The nagging little voice inside my head that whispers to my heart that I can't do what I dream of doing. The stupid voice of doubt that steals away that last little bit of sureness in my already almost entirely unsure concept of my future. Because, really, will I ever be good enough even to bother being a photographer? There's so many out there already. Why add to that number with a bunch of mediocrity and good-enough pictures?

That's what this past summer has done to me. It's taken every last bit of my confidence, ripped it to shreds, and ground it into the dirt. It's given me enough doubts to last a lifetime.  It's made my voice even quieter when I look at the floor and say, "I'm a senior" because I truly am not ready to take on life after high school (as ready as I am to be done).

(I told you that I was going to be overdramatic)

And then I realized: Doubts are okay. Doubts are even good sometimes. They make you stop and think. They make you reevaluate why you want to do what you want to do. That darn doubt made me ask myself if I want to be a photographer because I feel like God is calling me to that or if I just want it because that's the dream I've had for the past four years and I've never had a dream for that long before.

I still don't know. I still haven't worked through the doubt and the fear yet. I still have that nagging doubt hanging out with me every time I pick up my camera. It's a process and I'm slowly working through it. But God is teaching me not to be afraid of that process. He's teaching me not to back down because it's daunting, but to walk straight up to that doubt and say, "Hey. You and I are going to talk and only one of us is going to make it out of this in one piece." That ripped-up confidence of mine is gradually picking itself out of the dirt and dusting itself off.

What's my point here? Well, I guess I'll just say this: Don't run from your doubt. Don't push it into the back of your head and let it fester there until it overpowers you. Seriously, don't treat your doubt like a weakness. Honey, that doubt of yours is going to make you the strongest you've ever been. Claim it, sweetheart. Claim it and then work through it. Have a good, long chat with God about it. Ask Him if this is of Him or not. Seek Him through it all. He'll lead you in the direction you should go. Doubt doesn't have to be debilitating. It can be empowering. You can use it to dig deeper into your faith, lean closer into Jesus, fall harder in love with that one thing you just adore doing. Doubt doesn't make you a bad person or a bad Christian or less than who you want to be unless you let it do that. Take that doubt, look it in the metaphorical eye, and say, "Only one of us is going to make it out of this in one piece." The only way it's going to get the best of you is if you don't take it head-on. Stand up tall, hold your head high, and say, "You're not getting me this time."

quiet.

Some days, all I want from life is to get a lot of favorites on Twitter and have people tell me I'm a talented photographer. Other days, all I want from life is to have a ton of friends and have boys think I'm pretty. Still other days, I just want to feel like more than just the one who's merely tolerated by everyone around me. And let's not forget the days when I desperately want to be exceptional at the things I love to do. Almost every day, I want to be someone different, someone more exciting, someone more likable.

Honestly, very few days do I simply want to be me. Very few days do I feel satisfied with the mediocrity to which I've grown accustomed to feeling. These past few years, I have spent far more days in dissatisfaction with this Natalie person than I have in contentment with who I am.

Oh, but that's not what this post is about. I mean...it is, but only indirectly.

I went on a missions trip to Chicago two weeks ago. The people in my group who went on the trip were amazing. I dearly love every last one of them. I consider all of them good friends and I would never want to do life without them. But despite that, I felt alone. I felt isolated from everyone. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't see past the individual friendships around me. I couldn't disregard the fact that I felt like I was the only one who wasn't seen or valued.

God gave me a word for this trip: Quiet. Ooh, now there's something that I don't do well. If you know me at all, you know that quiet is almost not even in my vocabulary. If I'm quiet, people start asking me what's wrong. Nevertheless, God gave me the word "quiet" and told me that that week, I needed to become okay with fading into the background. And fade I did.

Honestly, every part of me was protesting this. I was utterly miserable. God was truly teaching me to be okay with the background and I was not handling it even remotely well. From Sunday till Wednesday, I only had a few moments of actual happiness. The rest of my smiles and laughter were shallow, mostly in an attempt to avoid the inevitable "Are you okay"s that I would have gotten if I hadn't put on an act of happiness.

Most of the week, I thought that the word "quiet" was about how God was trying to quiet the negative thoughts in my head and quiet me so that I would fade into the background and watch what God was doing in and through others. That did happen and it was significant, but it's not what "quiet" was about.

For a while, I've known that I'm a pretty selfish individual. I've tried to justify it with "Well, that's just human nature", but it's truly just not justifiable. My first thought when I enter a room full of people is not, "How can I love these people like Jesus would?", but actually, "What are they going to think of me?" That seems harmless on the surface, but in reality, it's a poisonous way to view the world. This viewpoint is what encourages the sense of entitlement that is so rampant in our society. It takes my focus away from trying to love people and serve Jesus well by centering my entire thought process around how I look, how I feel, or what other people think of me. This is a very effective way to totally lose sight of Jesus.

So, I'm selfish. And God used the week of Chicago to show me that in a whole new way. I realized toward the end of the week that God really wanted to quiet that selfishness. That was what my fading into the background was about. That was why He wanted me to be quiet. He was showing me that my behavior and the state of my heart were actually pushing Him away.

Back to my statements at the beginning of this post. I realize now that those feelings are coming directly from selfishness. They stem from my thoughts of "What do people think of me?" I'm still going to struggle with these feelings of inadequacy, but now I have the mindset of resisting those thoughts instead of letting them play through my head and give me a severe case of dissatisfaction. I know without a doubt that these feelings are not of God and I do not need to tolerate them anymore.

I know this post seems disjointed and unfinished. I promise, there's a reason for that. There's more to this story, but I'm saving it for another day (soon, I promise). This post is just Part One of an ongoing story that is constantly being written by my Savior. Tonight, I'm celebrating the fact that God wants to work in my heart even after He's seen all the ugly in me.

because everyone feels invisible sometimes.

It’s past 2:30am. I've had one of the worst days emotionally in a long time. I've let the old familiar feelings of invisibility and insignificance creep into my thoughts. I've let every time that I felt like the least important person in my friend group sneak back into my mind and stay there, festering, making me feel that way all over again. I keep reminding myself of every time that I have felt like nobody cared. I was sitting on my floor tonight, having an all-out meltdown, crying my heart out, when my dear friend told me that she cared. She reminded me that I am loved fiercely by my Jesus and that I am worth every ounce of that love. And that...that’s what got me.

Lemme tell ya: I am often pinned down by negativity and self-loathing. I have countless days where I hate Natalie Johnson because she is the one person who is just too easily overlooked by anyone and everyone. I look at my friends and think, “Why can't I be like them? They're so well-liked and they’re always noticed and acknowledged.” And that negative down-on-myself mindset can be kicked to the curb by someone saying a simple little sentence: “Hey, I love you and I care deeply about your existence.”

So here’s my point: Tell people you care. When you look at someone and think to yourself, “My goodness, I love them," take a minute and tell them that. Intentionally take time out of your day to remind people that they are valued and significant. Because everyone feels invisible sometimes and everyone needs to be told that they are a significant part of someone else’s world.

Please don't read this post and feel bad for me or obligated to tell me that you love me. I don't want to encourage pity parties, I want to encourage loving people better. Use your next "I love you" on someone who you know for a fact doesn't hear it nearly enough and never believes it even when they do. And after that? Spend your time showing them that you mean it when you tell them they matter to you. Start changing the world, one "I love you and you matter" at a time.

rambling about things you don't care about. it's cool.

(I don't know if you care about this at all, but I just need to get my words out)

I've been stuck in a rut. I'm not sure how many of my posts have started this way, but I'm pretty sure that this is not the first one, nor will it be the last. I'm not sure if this post is even going to have anything relevant or worth reading, but I haven't written anything in a while and I kinda missed it (also I'm writing a research paper right now and writing this sounded much more appealing).

Anyway! I've been stuck in a rut for months. I've had little moments of relief, but when I get real with myself, I haven't been out of this rut since December. Maybe even November. I mean, that's not to say that I haven't been happy. I have been, for the most part. I've just been stuck.

What is this rut I'm speaking of, you ask? Well, there are several.

The rut of my comfort zone.

The rut of letting my friends exclude me from their circle because I'm too afraid to intentionally make my presence known.

The rut of putting Jesus on the back burner while I try to survive without Him.

The rut of not applying myself to anything I try to do.

The rut of not choosing joy.

The rut of allowing myself to be distant, even from people who care deeply and love me fiercely.

The rut of "I got this. I don't need help."

The rut of vague tweets about my dissatisfaction with life.

The rut of saying, "I'm fine" when people who care ask what's wrong.

The rut of simply not caring.

Last night, I had a talk with myself and Jesus. We talked about a lot of things, but one thing in particular stuck with me and has been bouncing through my head today.

I've been trying so hard to do this on my own. I've been saying, "I got this. I don't need help." I've been totally neglecting Jesus in my heart, but talking a big game about Him. The hypocrisy of that disgusts me. It makes me so angry with myself.

But Jesus told me to stop trying to do life by myself, and that's what I'm going to try to do. It's not going to be easy. That makes me want to give up, honestly. I don't like doing hard things...but if it were easy, would it really be as worth it? I'm going to keep reminding myself of that. You can, too. If you see me getting discouraged or distant, point me back to this blog and make me eat my words.

Ugh, guys, this entire post feels so stupid and pointless, but in the interest of transparency, I'm going to post it anyway. I don't know how many people actually read this blog thing, but for those who do, I just want you to know that I've been struggling a lot and I REALLY APPRECIATE THOSE OF YOU WHO HAVE NOTICED AND EXPRESSED INTEREST IN MY WELL-BEING. I probably brushed you off (see several of the ruts I listed above), but it seriously means so dang much when people show that they care about me.

Sorry for this a rambly, unfocused post. You have full permission never to read my blog again.

cancelled plans and overwhelmed meltdowns.

"Many years from now, I want to be able to say, 'Through the hard times and through the good times, I had a wondrous time.'" // Olan Rogers, "The Soda Parlor Documentary" (watch that video. it'll change your life.)

Man, life has been downright rude lately. It's been like that person that you thought was your friend, but suddenly they just turn on you and beat your heart into the dust. Yep, exactly like that. The past two weeks could be described by saying, "Cancelled plans and overwhelmed meltdowns". That's been my life. And I've been letting it get the best of me.

I'm bringing myself back to the spot I was in several months ago. I had so many things that were threatening to bring me down, but I was kicking them to the curb with the knowledge of Jesus' relentless love and goodness. I'm also thinking back to the spot I was in last year (which feels much more like five years ago, to be honest). I was in such a dark place of unhappiness and discontentment.

Obviously, I'd much prefer the contentment. But I'm not there. I don't have a lick of contentment in my heart. I find fault with everything that I should view as a blessing. I mean, how pathetic is that? My life is amazing. I have such great parents, I have siblings that are actually my friends, I have friends who love me even though I don't know why the heck they do, and I have my Jesus who pursues me relentlessly even though I ignore His pursuit more often than I care to admit.

Right, the point of my rambling. I knew I was forgetting something. I've been listening to For King & Country extensively lately (because fK&C). Today, a lyric punched me in the face with its relevance. "If You wanna take me over the edge, I'll let You because Your love is where I'll land." Oh, dang. Daaaanngg. There it was, the truth looking me straight in the eyes and saying, "Natalie, you well-intentioned idiot...you are missing the point." I knew all this deep down the whole time, but my heart was refusing to accept that the pain and the gross hardness that naturally come with life all have a purpose. That purpose is not and never will be to depress me. It never will be to pull me further from the One I need to be in fellowship with. It never will be to bring me to a place where I decide that investing in others is not worth the heartache. Goodness, that never will be the point of any pain anyone ever goes through. It can still happen, but only if you let it.

So, getting back to the quote at the beginning of this post, I am choosing tonight to take that perspective. Life's going to be hard. It's going to push me down and I won't want to get up. I'll have those days when I don't even want to get out of bed and face existence, but I won't let them get the best of me. Despite the hard times, I will claim joy. I will claim Jesus' love. I will claim His pursuit of my heart.

I choose to have a wondrous time despite all odds. Life is such a marvelous adventure. I want to enjoy every possible moment of it. You should, too. Let's enjoy this adventure together. After all, that's how it was planned for us in the first place.

unacceptable behavior. wake the heck up, Jesus-lovers.

I have a rant. Get ready for it.

Christ-followers. My dear, wonderful brothers and sisters in Christ. I gotta tell ya: You're driving me insane. I'm saying this in all the love I possibly can muster. Why are you driving me insane? Oh, you better believe I'm gonna tell ya.

You know how you dis other denominations? And how you start the "Free will vs. Predestination" debate on Twitter and blog posts with other Christ-followers? And how you not-so-kindly express that, according to you, your opinion is correct and anyone who disagrees with you is just wrong? You, my fellow Jesus-lovers, are the source of my frustration.

Every time you alienate yourself from other believers because you disagree with them, you totally miss the point of the body of Christ. I'm not talking about the stuff like Jesus being God's Son or being saved by grace through faith or Jesus dying and coming back to life after 3 days. No, not the fundamentals (though if you alienate those who disagree on those subjects, you are still missing the point, but that's a different rant for a different day). I'm talking denominations and whether or not abortion or homosexuality are wrong. Things that, while important topics, do not make or break your going to heaven.

Christ-followers, your fellow believers who differ on those subjects will answer for their beliefs. And you, my friends, you will answer for how you treat them based on those beliefs. If that scares you, I suggest you have a little self-evaluation time and decide if you are mistreating those who you disagree with. It's a tough discussion to have with yourself, I know.

If the body of Christ is dysfunctional, how can we expect to effectively reach the lost? We need to be a team, united by our mutual love for and dependence on Christ. There's no time to be selfish. Every moment we spend arguing with those we should be working together with is a moment wasted. What if the time you spent being rude to your fellow Christ-followers could have been spent loving on people who don't know Jesus? Don't you realize that the rudeness you express to other believers is seen by nonbelievers and turns them off the concept of loving Jesus? They think that we are hypocrites because they look in at the body of Christ and see the hand slapping the foot and think, "What kind of body is this? I don't want to be a part of a body that purposely inflicts pain on itself."

WAKE UP. Lost souls are more important than this. We cannot afford to waste our time on thoughtless hurtful comments thrown into the faces of those we should be united with. Wake the heck up, Christ-followers. This is not Jesus' love. This is not how He dealt with things. This is how Pharisees dealt with things.

your love is worth loving with, my dear.

"The true world-changers don't stop loving even when their heart's getting beaten up."

I get it. Your heart is taking a beating. There's not enough time for that darling heart of yours to recover before the next punch is thrown. It hurts so badly and you just want to give up and stop loving. Logic is screaming in your ear, "It's not worth it. Stop now before you get hit again." Love is whispering, "Don't give up. It's still worth it. You're still changing lives." No one would blame you for listening to logic. I wouldn't blame you. It's screaming so loud and your heart hurts so much and you just want a break from the pain that naturally comes with pouring your love into people's lives.

This is the choice that changes everything. You can choose the safe zone and pull that broken heart back into the safety of your own hands and not let anyone else touch it. Like I said, no one would blame you. Oh, but you could listen to the whisper. You could keep putting your heart out there and keep pouring your love into others. There's risk, but risk just makes love even more of an adventure.

I've been in that place before. Heck, I still am. That place where you're loving people so hard and not getting anything in return. You pour your heart into their life and they don't even acknowledge it. Darling, I get it. It hurts so much. Some days, you're going to want to scream, "Am I really just not worth loving back?" and that's okay. Just land in the knowledge that you are worth loving back and people are doing the best they can. Others' oblivion feeds our own insecurities (oblivion is one of my greatest enemies) and we have to choose to listen to the whisper of "It's still worth it and so are you."

So, darling, be a world-changer. Surprise people by loving harder than ever when your heart hurts more than ever. It's always worth it. I cannot stress enough how much it matters. The world's gonna be a more beautiful place because you loved when it felt like you had nothing left. It already is, simply because you exist and your heart is overflowing with your unique, beautiful love. No one else can bring to the table what you can bring. Walk boldly up to the table. Don't let that familiar fear of rejection make you walk with your eyes to the ground. Lovely, you better walk with your head held high because the world needs your love.

Sweetheart, keep loving. Don't give in to the fear. You've got Jesus on your side so why would you ever want to let fear rule you? Through Him, you are bigger and better than the fear. Your comfort zone is nice and cozy, but adventures never came from comfort zones.

new year, same Natalie.

I promise not to say "New year, new me".

I actually hate the new year. It always seems to depress me. It's probably the fact that there's all this hype built up about Christmas and New Year's and when they're over, there's nothing more to look forward to. The way I'm wired, I need something to look forward to. Anyway, though, I'm trying my very hardest to be positive about the new year and all the exciting things that will happen in 2015 (though I still don't understand why having a new year changes anything, but that's just me).

But let's not get too wrapped up in the "magic" of the unknown that is 2015 that we miss what happened in 2014. What a year it was for me. I haven't been able to decide if it was a good year or a bad year yet. I mean, amazing things happened. I went on my first out-of-the-country mission trip, which was incredible. I finally became at peace with where I'm at in life now, after a year and a half of fighting it and longing for how life was before things changed. I learned about joy and contentment and how beautifully necessary they are. On the other hand, however, my heart feels like it was beaten to the ground and trampled over. I had to come to terms with who I am and how much that person needs to change. That hurt so deeply. I lost track of the number of times I cried, "Just make me worth living!" to Jesus and despaired of it ever happening.

I can't say as I'm a different person coming out of 2014. I still have all the faults and downfalls that I had. I can only say that I've grown. I'm still Natalie. I mess up constantly. But I am growing. I claim that growth.

But this year, I want to grow more. I want my story to keep growing more and more beautiful. I had a long talk with myself today and I decided that, if I only accomplish one thing this year, I want it to be letting Jesus' love be enough for me. I want to be able to say one year from now that even if no one ever accepts or loves me again, I will still have contentment in the love of Jesus. I hope it doesn't come to that, but I want it to be true of me.

So, here's to 2015. Here's to being made new and beautiful. Whatever you're going to throw in my face, dear 2015, I can't say as I'm ready now, but I will be when it comes down to it.

Darling heart, we're going to crush this year.