"Don't Blog That." -Michelle

Epiphany after epiphany this weekend.

I guess I can't take credit for them, really, since they all surfaced during my road trip to see Madison in Virginia this weekend with Tori and Anna. You know how spending three days with your best friends is never uneventful? Yeah.

It's okay to be honest with God. It's okay to tell Him exactly what's going on inside of you (not a better version), because He knows it already. He is the perfect father. The perfect lover. The perfect friend.

Being honest with the ones I love can actually make those relationships better. I spend so much time censoring myself to save people's feelings that at the end of the day I feel unauthentic. Speaking my hurts, annoyances, and inner frustrations is really helpful, not harmful, even if they may hurt the other person. I guess people say this all the time, but I never really thought it was true. People SAY to tell them the truth, but they don't really mean it, do they? Turns out, if they truly care about you, they do.

I think coming out and saying what I thought was "mean" and would only "hurt her feelings" was probably the hardest thing I did all weekend. But it also cleared the air, made room for repaired relationships, and bonded us more efficiently than any non-offending, nice, pleasant lie I could conjure up.

Being single is not about waiting for a guy, it's about letting God have me one on one. If I can't be content with God as my only lover, how will I be content with an imperfect human one? This is my prepping phase. God is romancing me! Why am I afraid? Being alone is scary, but I'm not alone.

God has my love and joy, but now He's asking for them to be given wholeheartedly, without a pleading for something else. I keep telling Him He has my heart, then complaining because I don't have a boyfriend. That doesn't make sense. He's asking me to stop fighting singleness.

"You will find your gem, Jordan! Just stop looking for him!" -Madison

I'm so judgmental. So hypocritical. I call myself a Christian in the same minute I silently judge someone (a sister in Christ, no less), then proceed to mimic them the very next night. I hate cliches. I am no better than anyone, and for once I'm not just saying that.

The worst thing about compromising on long-held convictions is that it blurs the line between me and the rest of the world. It's not the action - I am free, forgiven, and justified - but although "everything is permissible for me, not everything is beneficial." I'm supposed to be different. Set apart. Called out.

I'm tired of being the frumpy one. The quiet one, the background. I'm tired of being everyone's mother, responsible, overthinking, overanalyzing, overachieving. But under all of this is my strongest conviction: I will not deny my Lord. I will not mock His gift by rebelling, going crazy. A new season is on its way, though. Where's the balance?

Everyone's past haunts them. Like I told my girls, I'm waiting for the day when I can say, "I am free from this, He has healed me." I can't yet, but God is working and I can feel it. I am in repair.

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