April 9th

76% of the time, I have no idea what I'm going to write about on here. Usually, it is a compilation of my random thoughts and then I land somewhere wise. However, I don't know if that's going to happen with this post. Maybe I'll start about what's currently happening in my life and what Jesus has been teaching me through it.

1. School is almost over

2. I am not on speaking terms with my roommate

3. My puppy keeps pooping on my floor.


It's not much, but at the same time, my heart is constantly in a war zone. Especially with the whole "I'm not on speaking terms with my roommate". Sunday during worship, I hard SO CLEARLY God saying that Satan has NO hold on my heart. And it's true. God made my heart. God holds my heart. It's His breath in my lungs so I will POUR out my unfiltered praise. When you're pouring out praise, you have no room to pour out anger, hate, or pettiness. I've accepted that the relationship between us is gone, but I refuse to be bitter, anxious and worried constantly.

2019 has been nothing but an uphill battle. But I will pour out praise and radiate joy.

Emma Jane

Current Jam: Pursue/All I Need Is You Meadly by Hillsong Worship

Now until forever
Jesus, I surrender
Show me what I don't know
More of You
I'm desperate for Your presence
Longing to be with You
Lead me to a new place
More of You

My Thief of Joy

I turn 20 years old tomorrow. 

I do not know how I feel about it. 

I know how I feel currently and that is: anxious, upset, annoyed, in despair, etc. 

I probably had the best time of my entire life in Europe, but coming home to a roommate who gives me so much anxiety is completely consuming me. I have lost my joy, although everyone around me claims that I am radiant. 

I feel suffocated inside my own home, and I am completely over it. 

I want to be so joyful in all of my surroundings. 

Instead, I have a thief of joy in the form of a human who has taken all of our plates and hid them inside of her room. Instead, when I really need a printer, she has also taken it and hidden it inside her room. How can someone be your absolute best friend and then pull a 180? 

I don't know. 

I don't have any answers. 

I turn 20 years old, and I don't think I've learned much of anything still.

I am doing my best I guess, and that is all I can ask of myself. 

I think I have 134 days until my lease ends, so that's something. 

The One Where I Can't Even Buy Socks

I have always been extremely great at using my resources and being extremely self-aware. I can't remember a time when I was uncomfortable sending a quick email to the person who may have all of the answers that I need, or calling and having a long conversation with a stranger. Also, when I had a summer full of anxiety attacks, the first thing I did upon getting back to college station was sign up for therapy and a doctor's appointment to get medication to control it all. In college, I submit my papers to the University Writing Center to be checked before submitting them to the professor. I fully know my resources for any problem that I'm facing and know when I need to use them. With all of that being said, I'm also absolutely terrible at making any kind of decision. If it's simple, sure. However, if it is something that requires a lot of thought, I need time to weigh all of my options. I feel as if my slow-decision making skills tend to annoy lots of people. What triggers these awfully long processes? Well, have you ever held the Cheesecake Factory menu book? Have you ever brought me to a book store? Have you ever been with me when I'm trying to pick the correct socks to wear in the 30-degree weather of Europe? All of those situations involve a very slow decision-making process on my end. And many people in my life can vouch for that. However, because it takes me a while, does not mean that I am not capable of making decisions. I think that goes for anything- just because it's done slowly does not mean it cannot be done at all. I just need time.

Anyways, I say all of this because today I felt incapable of doing something as simple as buying socks. So, you win some, you lose some I guess.

Emma Jane

Losing all kinds of weights

Lately, I have been losing weight for no apparent reason without actually putting forth any effort. 

For example, these pictures show a 15-18 pound weight loss between the first and second one. The only thing that I've really done for myself is that I stopped snacking as much. I mean, sure, I got surgery- but they didn't take away close to 20 pounds. Medically and physically, I don't know what's going on (although I hear Isabella telling me that coffee is NOT a meal and my eating habits are terrible).  Mentally, there's been a lot of "weight" being lost. 

For starters, can we just PRAISE GOD that my anxiety doesn't absolutely control my life? I might put that in every single post from now on, but I'm so so so excited that the extrovert inside of me can live on in a happy and meaningful life. Anxiety truly kept me from enjoying people- which is what I love to do. I love to love people. And now that its heavy shadow has been cast away- I am free to experience the love that I try to give out. Granted, accepting the love from people is a little harder. 

Speaking of which- has your love language ever changed based on a situation? Mine used to be 110% words of affirmation. After my ex of sorts broke my entire heart simply by using the words "I love you" and giving me adoration through words, I haven't been able to feel love through words anymore. Now, it's quality time. And that's perfectly okay. I think I prefer it. But in terms of weight being lost, I'm very blessed to be able to say that I forgive him. I carried around the weight of fear, loneliness, and an unforgiving heart towards him- and I've left all of the weight and pain I carried for years at the foot of the cross. I used to be so afraid to love people again, so lonely because of his absence from being my absolute best friend, and unforgiving because of everything that he had done-but also not done. I was so angry at the person who said that they had loved me, yet did not want to commit to only me, and it took years for me to drop that weight of feeling like I wasn't enough. Because the cross says that I'm enough, and that's all I truly need. 

The third weight that I've dropped is this need for approval from other people. Quite frankly, living a life where you need constant validation from other people is exhausting. Being in college has really made me realize that nobody cares about you. And I say that in terms of addressing that nobody cares what you look like, if you wear the same outfit all week, or if your hair is straightened or not. And boys? Who even cares?? (Jk I still do LOL, you can't help the whole attraction thing). However, no man can tell you who you are. Only God can (I memorized that phrase from the page like 154 of Captivating by John and Stasi Eldridge). The only person who's telling me who I am is Jesus, and he says that I'm enough. I am SO enough. The more I dive into his word (okay, maybe like doggy-paddle through it) the more I am realizing of his tremendous love for us. I don't deserve or understand it, but somehow it still comes running after me.

This summer was not a good time. I was drinking a lot, doubting my God, and my heart was one that was full of panic attacks on the daily. I'm so blessed to have dropped the weight that this entire summer carried. I dropped all of my drunken adventure stories at the feet of Christ with my hands held high in surrender. In order to drop our weights, we have to let go of them. You can't hold on and let go at the same time. I now chose to let go. 

Let's do it together. 

Emma Jane 

Confidence

Confidence is something that I don't think hits you all at once. I didn't wake up one day and say "Wow I'm confident!" It happened (and is still happening) very slowly. I used to be entirely obsessed with the idea that I could not leave the house without putting makeup on and a cute shirt or so.  I was also obsessed with the way I looked in all of my clothes, to probably an unhealthy level. Currently, this green sweater is my absolute favorite top that I own. Does it make me look skinny? Probably not. But does it make my eyes sparkle? You BET. Does this sweater make me extremely happy because of how soft it is? YES. I love this sweater. I love wearing it. I love the way I look in it. This sweater makes me feel so great about myself, and I feel so good in it.

I think everyone needs one piece of clothing that makes them feel this way- or all of their clothes should make them feel this way. Being confident (in my opinion) is being comfortable in who you are.  I think getting a breast reduction skyrocketed my confidence by 250% for sure, but that was only the beginning.

Treating my anxiety was the other half of the equation. Anxiety caused me to be in a constant state of panic and worry. Especially panicking about what everyone else thought about me. The constant question was "Am I good enough?" or "Am I pretty enough?" Now, I know the answers to those questions are "HECK YES" and the answer isn't even from the people around me- it's from my Heavenly Father. He says:

"Sweet child, you are loved and you are enough. You are SO enough that I sent my son to die for you, and nothing that you do will change that. There's no mountain I won't climb up coming after you. Everything good comes from Me, and when those anxious thoughts start to come, know that they aren't from me." 

I've had to learn that all GOOD things are from our Creator. Because when he created the world, he saw what he had made and it was good. He is good. All good things are from Him, and all good things are through Him. My confidence started to appear after my breast reduction, but now continues and grows because I know that I am loved. I know that I am loved by Him and the people that He has placed into my life. I'm learning and have been discovering that Jesus reveals himself to us through His people, and I have been consistently praying for God to reveal himself to my two roommates. I know He's here, but I want my roommates to know it too and rejoice about it with me.

I think sometimes Christians come across as pushy and extremely hypocritical. I don't want to be a "pushy" Christian. I think all we're called to do is love people. The Ten Commandments can be summarized into two missions: Love God & Love People. Nowhere does God say to shove his love down people's throats and nowhere in the Bible does it say to condemn those who do not love Him. If we constantly condemn people, what does that say about our God? If He constantly condemned us, I don't know how much I'd want to spend time with Him. I'm not saying that He approves of all of our decisions, but we're not chained to punishment for them either.

This blog post kind of went everywhere, but I am confident because I am loved.

"What, then, shall we say in response to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things? Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies. Who then is the one who condemns? No one. Christ Jesus who died—more than that, who was raised to life—is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? As it is written:

“For your sake, we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.” 

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord."

Romans 8:31-39

Fires// Who's Putting Them Out

   Fire is something that I've been thinking a lot about lately. And I realized that this semester has only been a series of small fires, and sometimes larger ones. One might say that it sounds like an uphill battle, but they would be wrong. An uphill battle implies that there's an ending. Fires are a great mystery, and so was this semester. You never know when a fire is going to be put out, so there's never a solid ending to it.
One fire especially was anxiety. I wrote all about it on my Odyssey blog, so you're free to check it out more in depth. But this anxiety caused a series of small fires wherever I went and I always had so many things to be worrying about, that don't deserve it.  It caused the fire of having to go to the doctor every week to figure out what dosage of medication to put me on, which was stressful. I felt like I was finally getting better, but the overwhelming feeling of not knowing if it was going to work absolutely terrified me, and truly never had an end date. Do my anxiety meds have an end date? Will I be cured one day? Who knows. Another fire includes going to therapy every single week. It's exhausting and sometimes I walk out of therapy in a terrible mood, because sometimes I don't feel like talking about my problems or what hurt me the most in my life. But I know that therapy is putting out other, deeper fires.

A fire also is the thing that people stand around and talk to one another. Last night, for example, lighting a fire and roasting marshmallows gave us a reason to all hangout. So essentially, it's a form of entertainment.  But it's much more than that. I got to hang out with the people that I love a lot, even though I haven't gotten to be around them nearly all semester. At the beginning of the year, my anxiety tricked me into thinking that these people didn't like me. As I have progressed through therapy and medication, I realized that this is not true. Getting to be around a fire last night is the reason for this post. I'm so thankful for the people who were standing around it, and I'm thankful that it brought us all together to bond in a place where you hardly get cell service.

 Do You know what I also realized about fires? It's really all about who helps you put them out. Naturally, I  have to thank my medication and my therapist for that, but there are many other people that stood beside me this semester, regardless of what was happening with my brain. There are people who truly got it. My two roommates (who I love to death) stuck with me through it all and understood if I was having a bad anxiety day. A few of my church friends, like both Emily's, Cheyenne, Kate, and a few others, helped to put out those fires. I've had countless people pray over me and for the anxiety to leave, and I couldn't be more grateful.

I believe that although all of these people help me put out the fires, God truly is the one holding the big water hose and driving the whole fire truck. When I was younger and living on the Seminary with all of my bffs (you know who you are), they would host a Field Day for all of the kids. I don't remember any other part of it, but the one memory that has stuck with me is the moment where the firetrucks would come toward the end of the day and shower us with water. I was maybe 9 years old, and I was mesmerized by the splendor of the shower that I was receiving. I remember my bright pink crocs getting all muddy and my hair becoming soaking wet, but it was the highlight of the day. As a child, I didn't care about all of the small things that I would today if a loud firetruck per se showed up on campus and showered us all with water. I would probably complain about it. But do you know how I like to view God sometimes? As a big firetruck showering me with his Living Water through the eyes of my 9-year-old body. I was enchanted by the truck, just as I am enchanted by our creator. He's put out all of my fires essentially, and thanks to Him, I've re-connected with my friends, had less anxious thoughts, and been at peace with life. I'm learning that peace is through Jesus, and nothing can change that. Thank you to everyone who's been following this journey so far, it means the world to me.

Emma Jane

p.s. enjoy these pictures of things that I find beautiful

p.p.s. My favorite song right now is "Have Mercy On Me" (live) by The Porter's Gate (please go listen)

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A Toxic Relationship With Food (but hey, not a boy this time!)

I feel as if I have been nothing but pretty raw and honest on this blog for the last 4 years or so, and that's really kind of nice for both me and anyone who actually reads this blog. I've written about several accounts of brokenness. So today I really want to address the messy truth of having an unhealthy relationship with food. And it's something that I've had to struggle with all through middle school and parts of high school, and a part of my story that I wish didn't exist. I also didn't realize it existed until this summer, and once I had the revelation that I spent years in a toxic relationship with food, I panicked. How is one actually supposed to act when they realize that they had a problem that they never dealt with? Well, that's a different conversation.

I think I was around 11-12 when I was introduced to the concept of calories. How could I ignore them? Plastered on every single item of our society was the calorie count. I remember the shift of looking up the calories online before going to a place to the calorie counts showing up on the menus in restaurants. I used to look up the charts for fast food places and print them out- having them in a little notebook and highlighting the things that I could eat from that place since they fell under my magical designated calorie count for that meal. Looking back now, that seems a bit extreme. However, as a teenager with no self-confidence- that wasn't enough for me. I had several apps downloaded to keep track of every single calorie going into my body, along with the ones that I was burning with my daily, extreme workouts. I don't think I had any type of Fitbit back then, so I did my best to gauge what calories I was burning during my athletics period. I think the worse of it was that I always felt this extreme guilt for eating. Like, if I ate too many calories, I had to go to the gym and burn them off- even if I had already worked out that day. I distinctly remember being in Lubbock for an LWML conference, and my mother's birthday happened to fall during that weekend. Therefore, we went to Cheesecake Factory to celebrate. After eating dinner (which is totally normal) and some cheesecake (hence, why you go to the CHEESECAKE FACTORY), I remember going to the gym at the hotel and staying there for an hour, simply to try to burn as many calories as possible because I couldn't live with eating one piece of cheesecake. Do I remember my mom's birthday? No. What was I doing? Working out. I feel as if I missed out on so much life simply because I was trying to look better and weigh less.

I used to have what I call "obsessive calorie knowledge" too. I could walk into a grocery store and probably tell you the calorie count of most of the things there. Is that healthy? I personally don't think so. But still, I was obsessed. And you know what? I can't remember how I finally quit. Maybe I let go of the expectation that I needed to look like every single other girl. Maybe it was the realization that I need to start working out because I love my body, and not to change it. The journey of having to escape all of the "food guilt" has been pretty rough, because occasionally I start to slip back into it. And truthfully, that scares me a lot. Trying to count every calorie put me in such a bad place mentally, and I don't want to go back. However, when life is spinning out of control, the need to control my food intake increases. And half of me wants to be this girl who is awed at, and chased after because I'm just that beautiful. But the other half of me knows that I'd rather have a pretty heart rather than a pretty face or body.

Anyways, I learned all of this about myself in the course of 2 hours one night this summer and had a panic attack, but I'm okay now. I wish I had taken better care of my body back then, but all I can do now is love it and treat it with respect- because it's gotten me so far in this life and carried me through so many difficult things. I hope that if I ever have a daughter that we get to talk about her body and her food in a healthy way- because I don't ever want her to freak about a stupid little number on the back of the food packages or the number on the scale.

My value is not tied to my body image. Jesus died for me, and that's that. I'm a child of God, and because of that, I will always be beautifully made in His image.