the religious stigma

Journal Day Prompt from Dani of Sometimes Sweet

Would you consider yourself a religious person? Quite simply- what do you believe happens when you die? Have you always believed this? Do your current beliefs align with what you were taught as a child? And if not, what was the turning point? This week, talk about your religion or spiritual beliefs (or perhaps your lack of), and try to sum up, if you can, what you believe happens "next."



If I'm being honest, I strongly dislike the word religion. I, myself, am what Webster's Dictionary would define as being "religious", yet that word just sends such discomfort throughout my nerves. I don't blame religion, or faith, for those uncomfortable feelings. I blame those who use their religion to hurt others. Am I a person of faith? Absolutely. Am I a person who has dedicated their life to follow God. Completely. Does this make me a religious person? I suppose by definition, it does.

I was not raised in a home of faith. In fact, I was completely clueless when it came to religion at all. The first time I stepped foot into a church was when I was 12 years old. It was at that age that I made the life-long decision to follow Jesus Christ. If I'm being honest again, I didn't really know much about the commitment I was making. I didn't even know all that much about this Jesus I was claiming to follow. But, one thing I was completely aware of was that my heart had been transformed. There's another one of those words... But, it's true. Something quite unexplainable happened to me, and 14 years later, I still can't really explain it.

As I've matured in my faith, I have come to realize that not being able to fully explain who God is, is exactly the point. If we could explain the in's and the out's of who God is, and why He has done/is doing/will do things, then wouldn't that make us God? I am no Theologian (another one of those words...), but I have faith. My faith is something that will always be a part of my life, and that is because it is my life. 

I'm a person of faith, yet I am still a person. I'm not perfect, and once I realized God doesn't expect me to be perfect, life got much easier; my faith got much easier. I don't have all the answers, and there are seasons where I have doubts. I believe that is all a part of the meaning of life. Chase what you believe to be right, no matter who or what fights you on it. If you doubt, pursue that doubt until you've reached a conclusion. Don't believe just because you think it's an entry ticket into the afterlife. Believe because the only answers you find to the beauty and hope in this world point straight back to Something so much bigger than you & I. That's why I believe. 

If I could sum up what I believe in just a few words, I would say: 

Love God, love others. 

It's that plain, and it's that simple. Unfortunately, it's the people who take it so far past that, who end up giving this world a reason to hate religion.

[crazy love]

XO
Brenda

journal day: my struggle to be healthy

We all encounter challenges on a daily basis. You may consider yours something small, like having enough time in the day to accomplish everything you set out to do, or it may be a bit bigger- perhaps something you have to overcome mentally or emotionally, or even a struggle when dealing with a difficult person. Whatever the case, take a look at your daily life- what would you say is your biggest challenge? Or if you have a past struggle you were able to overcome, how did you do it? 

This week, write about a challenge you currently deal with on a day to day basis, 

or discuss one you managed to get past.

[Every Sunday, Dani from Sometimes Sweet, posts a new writing prompt. Join in, if you'd like to!]

[source]

The last couple of Journal Day prompts have not spoken to me, so I didn't write posts for them. When I saw this one, I quickly felt like I didn't have a "daily challenge", so I couldn't think of what to write. As I sat on it for a few days, and really looked at my day to day, I soon realized I do face a daily challenge. It's simple and I'm sure it is something most of our society faces on a daily basis: being healthy.

I am your classic case of "starting over" on Mondays, looking up different fads of cleanses and working out hard for a couple weeks, then binging out on some greasy Mexican food. I am that person. 

I don't know why I'm like this, or why I can't simply choose to be healthy. I don't come from a super healthy family, but that is in no way an excuse. You see, I want to be healthier, and I want to look and feel better about my body. But, my struggle lies in the consistency and commitment of fulfilling these desires. 

Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever be healthy. Seeing those words literally makes me feel depressed. I hate that! I've been given ONE body, and ONE life, and I believe that is a true gift. When I don't fight to be healthy, the only person I'm destroying is myself. If that's not enough of a self-wakeup-call, then I don't know what is, or what will ever be.

Sometimes I wonder what it will take for me to be healthy. Is it just going to be that one day I'll have this epiphany? Or, will I be in the hospital receiving life altering news, and at that point it might be too late? I'm not trying to be dramatic or even extreme with this, but sometimes that is what it comes down to.

Sigh. So, there is my daily struggle. These are the two steps I am making to work on this struggle:

1. Today, I'm meeting with a Physical Trainer. He will assess my health & nutrition. I am pretty sure I'll be working out with him, too. 

2. I'm signing up for a 3-week trial run with a local "Boot Camp" fitness center. My sister-in-law has been doing it for several months now, and she highly recommends it. I'm excited to give this a try! 

That's all I have for now, and I'm more than okay with that. As you heard me say before, I'm that extreme person; the one who overcommits to something drastic and then quits. I don't want to be that person anymore. All I want is to be healthy.

XO

Brenda

journal day: the song that changed it all

It's the second week of the Journal Day series, which was started by the wonderful Dani Hampton of Sometimes Sweet. Here's this week's prompt:

We all have songs that really mean something to us. Often just hearing it can take us right back to that place and we are able to re-experience the memory associated with the song. Sometimes good, sometimes bad, but either way music has the ability to really draw things out of us and evoke deep emotion. Choose a song that has a particular meaning to you. Tell the story of the memory associated with the song, sharing as much detail as you can. Take us there; let us experience it with you.

June 22nd, 2013.

That was the day that everything changed for me. I woke up that morning with the biggest smile on my face, knowing that in just a matter of hours, my best friend would become my husband. I had been waiting my entire life for this day (yes, I was that girl). I had always dreamed of my wedding day being absolutely beautiful and perfect. When Jamey proposed to me, those dreams started to become a reality. We began to plan out all the details of our special day. Music soon became a constant theme for our wedding. Jamey and I initially connected over our love for music, and that carried on into our dating relationship. Because of that, we wanted to make sure that music had a strong presence at our wedding, and we were very intentional with the songs we chose to represent our relationship.

When it came time to choose which song I'd walk down the aisle to, it was a no-brainer. Death Cab For Cutie has been one of my top favorite bands since my early high school days. I am about to sound like every DCFC fan, but I have always felt like Ben Gibbard just got me. His lyrics, his melodies, the way he orchestrated every detail in every song, just made so much sense to me. Specifically, Transatlanticism. The title track of the 2003 album soon became my favorite DCFC song. Every time I'd hear this song, I'd either cry or want to cry. I never had a reason as to why these emotions would come over me, but I always knew one day it would end up making sense.

When I told Jamey this was it, this was the song, he immediately agreed. The problem with choosing this song was that it is almost eight minutes long. I did the math and realize that was just way too long for a song to walk down the aisle to, even with having our wedding party walk down to it as well. I told Jamey I wanted to make this work somehow. I also wanted to walk down the aisle at a very specific part of the song. Jamey said he'd take care of it, and I knew he would, I was just afraid that I didn't really give him an easy job.

With his magical editing ways, Jamey sent me his own version of Transatlanticism. It was four minutes long, and it was instrumental, except for the part that I wanted to walk down to. I cried when I heard it. It was perfect and so beautiful. 

Back to June 22nd, 2013…

Moments before it was time for me to walk down the aisle, I was peaking out of the bridal room, and I was all alone. Our bridal party was all lined up, ready to go. I could see our guests patiently waiting, and most importantly, I saw my groom waiting for me. He looked so handsome. Everything was perfect. I was nervous, naturally, but hearing the instrumental tune of Transatlanticism playing instantly calmed my nerves. I knew it was time for me to begin walking out. The plan was for me was to wait behind this beautiful wooden divider, so that no one could see me until it was time. I knew the exact part of the song I was going to walk out to, so I was just waiting there anxiously. I could hear the music so clearly and for that instant, time just froze. I reflected back to all the hundreds of times I had heard this song and had felt so emotional. I finally knew the reason. It was as if my heart always knew this would be the song that would guide me down the aisle to marry my best friend. 

The moment where all the guests were instructed to stand and turn to watch me make my appearance had happened,

// I need you so much closer

I need you so much closer

I need you so much closer

I need you so much closer //

My moment was here. The moment to begin walking towards Jamey, and seeing everyone there to support us and our marriage was happening. My dreams were coming true, and all of this was happening to the most perfect soundtrack,

// So come on, come on

So come on, come on

So come on, come on

So come on, come on //

XO,

Brenda

journal day: eighteen & distraught

**I've decided to join in on a blog series called "Journal Day". It was created by the wonderful Dani Hampton of  Sometimes Sweet. Every Sunday she will post a writing prompt and anyone who wants to write about the prompt can do so on their own blog! I'm excited to be a part of a group of aspiring writers/bloggers, and to have some inspiration to write again! 

[Here is this week's writing prompt]

"Everyone has a time in their life they view as a crossroad. Sometimes you can see it as it's happening, and you're able to choose one way or another. Other times you may not realize you're there until you look back, and see what a turning point it really was. This week, write about a time you view as a marker in your life; a distinct place where things changed, for better or worse."

---- ---- ---- ----

I always said, "when I turn 18, I'm moving out!". It wasn't because I had this burning hatred for my family, or that I was in dire need of my independence. Rather, it was because I had already been living an independent lifestyle (going to school, working 30-40 hours a week, and paying bills). I wanted to experience life as a true adult, so I moved out. I had no idea what I was getting myself into. I thought it would be all fun and games, and at times it was, but the pressure of living on your own made many things surface for me.

I used to be the type of person who would bottle everything inside. I never wanted to create a hostile environment for anyone around me, and I certainly didn't want anyone feeling like they needed to have pity on me for the things I had gone through. So, I just stayed quiet, put a smile on my face, and kept moving forward. I think it must have been the pressure of working full-time, paying bills, trying to go to college and just everything else that comes with being 18 that tipped me right over the edge.

When I reflect back on this particular season of my life, it sort has  become a blur. What I do remember is one specific day, which is what I'd deem as my "crossroad". I spent many, many hours just sitting in the living room, lights off, staring at the wall. I just felt so numb. I didn't want to see or talk to anyone. My roommate came home, and I just said I had to leave; I had to get out. She asked me where I was going, and I replied, "I'm going crazy!" … As dramatic as that sounds now, it was completely true back then. So, I did what any normal 18 year old who was experiencing a mental breakdown would do: I bought a pack of cigarettes. I was not a smoker, whatsoever, but it seemed like the best thing to do at the time. I nervously bought a pack of Marlboro Lights (because that's what my parents smoked when I was a kid), and drove to a nearby neighborhood and parked my car. I just started smoking and crying, smoking and crying. I'd cry because I was smoking, and then I'd smoke because I was crying. When I think back to that moment, all I want to do is hug my 18 y/o self and say, "it's going to get much better, you're going to be okay". 

I was having a mental breakdown. I denied it for a little bit because I felt like only troubled people have breakdowns, and I thought I was a good person. I was an independent adult, working full-time, going to school, and even volunteering as a youth leader at my church. But that was the problem. I had too much going on, and I was pouring out in so many different areas. I quickly realized that my mental breakdown was leading me straight into depression. That word scared me so much. That is when, with the help of several close friends, I decided I was going to see a therapist. I was so fearful of what was going to happen, and what we were going to discuss in our sessions. 

Seeing a therapist literally saved my life. He taught me that I was normal, and that it was time to get my life back. He also reassured me that the reason I broke down was because I never dealt with some serious childhood issues. He helped me to walk through each experience and to redeem myself through the healing process. 

I look back at that season and realize I could have made two choices: one choice would have been to just remain in a state of depression and who knows what path that would have taken me on. Or, the second choice would have been to face my emotions head on, and come out a healed person.

I'm so grateful, and so proud that I made the second choice. I don't know who or where I'd be had I not.

I love that this man accepts me for who I am.
All of my past, my baggage & my flaws.

If you ever find yourself in a similar place, know that you're normal and that there are so many others going through the same thing. Take care of yourself, and know that your well being is the most important thing.

XO,

Brenda