layers and links: volume four.

"Three Things I'd Tell Ben Three Years Ago, After He Came Out" by Benjamin Moberg.

"It sounds strange, but when you leave the faith, God's going to shuffle along behind you. Not that you'll notice Him. You'll be too busy averting your eyes from all things religious, plugging up your ears in every conversation about the faith."

To add my own note here, this may be the most beautiful blog post I've ever read. Ben writes with such searing honesty, it's like he's inviting us to feel his heart, both the pain and the joy he's experienced to make it where he is now. This is an unflinchingly honest piece of art, and one that is so true and so worth every second of your time.

"What Does It Mean To Be Black-ish?" by Christena Cleveland.

"Rather than acknowledging that the Johnsons represent an upwardly mobile group of black people who offer a Black Experience in White America narrative that differs from the stereotypical one, the showrunners for Black-ish have subtyped upwardly mobile black people, thus reinforcing the stereotypical narrative in America's consciousness."

"How Should We Define Masculinity? A Q&A with Charles Blow" by Jason Parham.

"Boys are constantly confronting this notion of failure because they cannot live up to the idea of people saying to them, Man up! Be a man! And they don't know what that is because they're just trying to be human. And being human is sometimes fragile. I believe we have to redraw our collective concept of what masculinity is so that it includes the possibility of difference and variation. And once we do that we free these kids up to be kids, and to be human beings."

"I Am Not Okay" by Grace Sandra.

"Are you okay?

They

see you cry.

They see you fall in a fast, steep crumble.

Are you okay?

There's so much to fear, so much to worry about.

They roll up their sleeves: what can be done?

Is it going to be okay?

Dunno, you say."

"Advice for Aspiring Young Writers [from an Aspiring Young Writer]" by Jackie Lea Sommers.

"Don't let yourself be paralyzed by fear of failure; I am telling you right now: you will fail. But keep showing up. Write a bad first draft, the worst one in the world. But then show up and write a better second draft. Show up again and write a better third draft. Repeat until you're satisfied with your work. Meanwhile, the people who never showed up might not have a first draft at all. They're still on the starting line, scared to put down a wrong word."

playing tug-o-war with ron swanson.

For those of you that watch "Parks and Recreation" (I'm a hugely unashamed fan), you're probably familiar with the following quote from one of the show's most memorable characters, Ron Swanson.

It's my personal theory that he'd hate my guts if we knew each other in real life (if solely for the reason that I'm not a big meat eater... oops). And while it's safe to say that I'm not a huge fan of his views on A LOT of things, the above quote came up during a recently watched episode ("Sweet Sixteen," (Season 4, Episode 16), for those of you that care to know).

And it hit me that it was a rather fitting quote for my year off of school.

There have always been glimmers of doubt that have crept into my heart since making my final decision to take the year off and work on finishing my novel (to read more about it, click here). Still, I'm convinced that it can't always be about feeling 100% at peace with a decision. I believe that sometimes, God leaves enough uncertainty and enough doubt in the mix to remind us that life isn't always about being safe, but about taking the risk and trust falling it anyway.

I'm more than convinced I could've stayed in school and worked on my book at the same time this year. It was a delicate dance I performed all of last year - juggling the back-and-forth rhythm of studying, testing and writing essays over writing Yellowtree and posting on this blog. At least, that's how it was supposed to go - school work before my 'writing-for-fun-hobby.' That's what I had to do - reduce writing to a mere hobby in a clumsy attempt to shove it down and ignore it.

Not surprisingly, it wasn't long before the truth came bursting through the seams, slipping past the worn down edges and corners I tried so hard to tie up and forget about. It came in short spurts of puzzle-piece-realizations, fitting together this idea that writing had unintentionally and unknowingly become so much more than a hobby. It's now a passion, a love, a full fleshed goal I long to work on and strive toward accomplishing.

It's funny, because I've had people ask me why I'm taking the year off when I'm so close to graduating. Wouldn't you rather get school over with and then focus on your writing? I think you should just stick it out for a couple more years.

Well, in a sense, yes. It's true that I have less than two years before I graduate. And it's true that it would be awfully nice to not have to worry about the logistics of going back to school after this year.

But in the end, it's precisely because I love school that I've chosen not to attend right now.

Because in all honesty, for the past year, I half-assed my way through both school and writing, rushing to study so I could have time to write, only to feel anxious and distracted during my writing time because of another test or paper or assignment due that night. A tug-o-war I was never able to win, just yanking at the cardboard rope with all my strength until I was sweaty and exhausted and didn't feel like doing much of anything anymore. It wore me down, then left me angry at myself, at school, at my book, at my professors for assigning so much homework, at my general lack of skills in the realm of time management, and so on and so forth. Both school and writing are two very life-giving things to me, and yet I ended this past year feeling more dead than alive.

Yellowtree is more than just 'writing-for-fun' for me. Yellowtree is a piece of my heart, a piece of my journey that I hope can encourage and inspire others where they're at in theirs. Writing it has been a healing process that has allowed me to confront some of my own inner demons and release them to the Light, drawing me into closer communion with Jesus and with others as a result.

This year off school is really about me trying, with wobbly steps and glimmers of doubt, to whole-ass writing my book, so I can dive back in next year and whole-ass my studies at school.

It's a way I've chosen to choose Love and Joy over anger and frustration.

It's a choice made out of respect for school and all the beautiful things it has to offer. I'm slowing down to learn with an open and eager heart, rather than rushing through the motions to get it over with and graduate.

There have been nights where I've questioned whether or not this was the right decision. There are times working on my book where I severely doubt coming here and putting so much emphasis on writing the thing. Like I said before, I've never felt 100% at peace with everything. There are still quite a few I don't knows left in the picture.

Leave it to Ron Swanson to clear things up, and to remind me that it's not always about what looks the best on paper, or the path that will give me the most to show for at the end of it. Sometimes, the doubt and the uncertainty and the fear all play a part in reminding me that what I'm working toward is real and raw and hard, more so than the safety nets and comfort zones that half-assing has to offer me.

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For those of you unfamiliar with Parks and Recreation, I highly recommend it. It's one of the only TV shows I watch, full of consistently hilarious episodes, zany plot lines, and witty characters with so much heart. One of my roommates and I have been watching the seasons at night, and even though I've seen the episodes, it's like falling in love with the show all over again. 5 stars from this blogger (whatever that's worth)!

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In case you haven't noticed, I'm trying to fall into the schedule of writing a new post every Tuesday. It was one of my goals this year to start cultivating consistency on the blog, rather than leaving readers unsure of when I'm going to post again. That being said, while I may occasionally post more than once a week, having the regularity and surety of Tuesday will be helpful and beneficial, I think. It also provides just the right length of a break from Yellowtree, while not distracting too much from working on it. Until next week!

i don't always tell you.

The following was inspired by a post of the same title by Rachel Held Evans (read it here, please - it's breathtaking). This is the most raw, unfiltered, vulnerable piece I've ever written, and it's rather terrifying to post. But I've said over and over again that this is a place where you can be yourself - and that has to include me.

So here's a piece of my heart, in hopes that it can meet you where you're at in your journey.

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I don't always tell you that sometimes when I look in the mirror, it's like facing down a stranger with hints of familiarity, maybe a freckle in the same spot, or a similar twitch of the eye. All I really want to do is break the glass, but instead I just call myself names, like ugly or stupid or nobody likes you.

And sometimes I feel God's peace like a gust of fresh air, and it fills my lungs to the point where I can't do anything but smile and gulp in deep deep breaths because I know he is near.

And other times I try repeating his name out loud, just to remind myself he exists, and it only sounds like I'm taking his name in vein.

OH GOD Oh God Oh God Oh god oh god.

And then I hate myself even more, because what kind of Christian could ever feel this way and still hang onto Christ?

And praying just seems like some watered down way to make talking to myself seem sane, and the Bible is just full of words that get caught on my tongue as they try to escape. Read them, repeat them, scratch them off my heart and smear them onto my forehead. Something, anything to make me feel more alive.

And what do I do when the words that are supposed to be living and active, sharper than a double-edged sword, actually feel like they're cutting small little slits all over my faith, letting the doubt seep in like the smoke lingering after a fire?

I don't always tell you about these cringe-worthy moments, the ones not exactly suitable for a cleaned up and polished blogspot site.

Or a cleaned up and polished Christian, for that matter.

If those even exist.

And so I'll go for a drive, because I like taking long drives with God just to be with him, and we won't say much at all. I'll play a few songs and look up at the sky, usually sunset, and be reminded of how beautiful this life is all over again.

And this is faith, not always feeling and not always knowing, but continuing to show up in spite of it all.

For God is more than a good feeling in my stomach, a quiet voice in my ear, a cardboard pattern in my mind. He's more than the boxes and verses and how-to's of faith. He's more than my doubt, my questions, and my anger, jumbled up fear that wracks my brain and my soul.

He's here and he's present and he just keeps showing up.

So I guess I will, too.