finding contentment.

"Springtime is a time to start anew and that goes for what's inside of you." // "Springtime" / Kurt Johnson

When I looked out at the sun shining on the grass and felt an unexplainable joy, that's when I knew I'd found contentment. When I found myself taking tons of aesthetic-y photos, that's when I knew I'd found contentment. When I just wanted to lay in the grass and soak in the sun, that's when I knew I'd found contentment. And oddly enough, I think contentment is leading me back to Jesus.

It's been such a struggle for me to pursue Jesus lately because I've been afraid to do it with the wrong intentions. But tonight, as I'm laying in the grass and watching the sun set, I think I've found the place where I can pursue Him without an agenda. Because tonight I can see Him in the sunset. Tonight I can hear Him in the birds chirping. I can smell Him in the grass. I can feel Him in the breeze. This is the way it was meant to be. Every distraction merely reminds me of Him because He is everywhere.

I want to pursue Him out of thankfulness for His love and faithfulness and constancy. I want to pursue Him because He's given me that simple enjoyment for the ordinary again. I want to pursue Him because He's led me to contentment and taught me how to choose it over and over again.

Spring is here and I am made new.

the familiarity of fear.

The thing is, you have to give over the fear. You can't keep picking it back up and claiming it. He breaks the chains, but that doesn't keep you from clinging to them. What good is it to be freed from something when you keep running back and living in it? You have to stop holding on.

How many times do you have to break before you'll let go of the fear? How much longer do you intend to wrap the broken chains around you? They don't have to bind you. He's broken them. They are not your prison anymore. You've deceived yourself into thinking that it's comfortable in the bindings of fear. Don't you see the cuts and scars those bindings have inflicted on you? Don't you feel the bruises?

Fear is not comfortable. It's familiar. The darkness of your fear prison has become familiar, but it is not what God has for you. When you step into the sunshine and out of the darkness, the light's brilliance burns your eyes. You blink quickly and shade your eyes, but soon you adjust to the light. You let yourself believe that your new-found freedom is not worth the vulnerability of staring into the sunlight after a lifetime of darkness. 

Don't let the moments when the sunshine burns your eyes keep you from the light. Don't let the unfamiliarity of freedom keep you from dropping the chains. Stand up and tell the whole world, "I'm no longer a slave to fear. I am a child of God."

see mom, i'm learning.

I really want to talk about some of the things I've learned in the past month. It's pretty amazing to sit down and think about how far I've come and how much God has taught me. This past month has had some of my worst days, some of my best days, and one of the scariest moments in a long time. But through it all, as I think you'll see from reading the rest of this post, God has been overwhelmingly good and faithful. It sounds cliche to talk about having your faith tested, but I really do think that it's happened a lot recently and it's been a painfully beautiful experience.

I'm learning that my brain simply cannot fathom the goodness and faithfulness of God.

I'm learning that God shows up every time, even when I start to think He's forgotten me.

I'm learning that it's okay not to have the perfect--or any--words when I pray because it's about my heart.

I'm learning that, as terrifying as surrendering is, God is so present and faithful in the midst of it all.

I'm learning not to let what I want--as noble as that may be--close me off from God's will for me.

I'm learning that, as cliche as it sounds, God really does have a purpose for the hard stuff and He will show me that purpose in due time.

I'm learning that God's timing is good, even when I'm impatient.

I'm learning that it's okay to reach out, with tears streaming down my face, and tell someone, "I'm not okay."

I'm learning that IT'S OKAY NOT TO BE OKAY.

I'm learning that it's okay to let people invest in me.

I'm learning that there is so much freedom in not caring if people notice me.

I'm learning that God really is as personal as everyone says He is.

I'm learning that God is so, so, so good and so, so, so faithful.

I've had a lot of days this month when I wasn't okay. But I am now. God's been good every step of the way. He's been faithful beyond my ability to comprehend.

hindsight.

This weekend was really rough. Sometimes life hurts. But I just read some things I wrote two years ago and I'm not sure I can express how humbled I am by them. God has brought me so far. I never noticed it happening, but wow, did He work in me. Perspective sure can make a difference.

I started thinking about this while doing school this morning (it was very distracting. ever tried to tell God how good He is to you while reading an economics book at the same time? it doesn't work very well. just take my word for it.) and honestly, it was pretty overwhelming to think about how I was doing a year ago (and even worse--two years ago) vs. how I'm doing now. Obviously, life is not perfect right now (is it ever?!). But when I think about where I was and, even more humbling, where I could be, I'm amazed by God's faithfulness through everything. Even when I've been preoccupied with all that isn't good or fun in my life, God's been there guarding my heart from the darkness and bitterness that I now see were trying to seep into my spirit. I don't want to be too dramatic (but I will be. we all know how I am), but if it hadn't been for God's constancy in my life, I could be a different person today.

My Daddy told me last week, "You have a delightful quality about you, Natalie." That, of course, made me uncomfortable because I was not made for accepting compliments. I tried to pass it off by telling him that I just hide my negativity really well (I don't think he bought it), but I see now that, despite my human nature tendency towards pessimism, God has given me a real delight for life. And that is not something I just should accept without acknowledging its significance. I realize how huge of a blessing that is. Some people constantly struggle to find any reasons to be happy about life, but all I need is a good cup of tea or a twirly skirt and my bad moods go away. I should be jumping for joy and telling the world how good and faithful God is.

So this is me jumping for joy and telling the world about God's goodness and faithfulness to me. Two years ago, I was crying out for God to bring me people who would listen to and love me no matter how much I talked or how many times I complained about little things. And today? Oh, wow, did He deliver. I have people who I can claim and WHO CLAIM ME. THEY LOOK AT ME, SEE MY RIDICULOUSNESS, AND SAY, "I'M YOUR FRIEND." Ahhh. Just the thought of that makes me want to burst from happiness. I'm in the perfect place to do what I always want to do for people: encourage the heck outta them. I can look my friends who feel lonely and hopeless in the eye and tell them, "I came from that. God is faithful. He is with you every step of the way. I promise you, you will come out of this situation a stronger, more joyful person. Just keep holding His hand."

I just had to brag on God a little today. I don't acknowledge it (or Him in general) nearly enough. I'm going to work on that. Life is really freaking beautiful and God just is so dang good. No matter where you are right now, I want to encourage you to take some time to see God's goodness in your life. Even if it seems like nothing's going right, I promise you that He's there with you, loving you endlessly and holding your hand. I wasn't looking for Him, so I missed all the ways that He was faithfully loving me when life was hard. Don't make the same mistake I did. Look for Him and then brag on Him every chance you get.

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.