Lightning strikes beneath dark storm clouds over a rugged coastline and mountain range
thoughts

when reality is not what you want it to be

alyssapebbles

How do we respond in faith when life takes us down a path we never wanted to go down?

How do we trust God when it feels like everything is falling apart?

These are the questions I’ve been asking myself lately as I step into yet another season of pain, disillusionment, and hard things. As if life wasn’t hard enough back in California, we decided to uproot our lives and make a huge move across the country to the great state of Alabama.

Sense my sarcasm?

Granted, we are in one of the nicest areas Alabama has to offer. And I have nothing against Alabama– it truly is a beautiful state full of beautiful people. But let me tell you, had I known how difficult these past few months would be, I never, I repeat, NEVER, would have agreed to move here.

For context, Mitch’s job was ending and he needed a new one. The Silicon Valley tech market is brutal right now, so he started considering jobs in defense, many of which are in various other states across the U.S. We took a big trip in April to see said states and areas we could potentially move to, and decided we liked Huntsville, Alabama well enough to move here. We also had great weather when we visited. Of course.

So when Mitch was offered a great job with a company in Huntsville shortly after returning from our trip, we felt it was an open door from the Lord. And truly, it was. He accepted it quickly and we had about a month and a half to pack our things, find somewhere to live, and move. It was a whirlwind. Goodbyes were brutal– especially the ones with our beloved parents and dear church community.

But we were excited for what was ahead, and I trusted the Lord that He had good things in store for us.

Sometimes those good things do not come in the form we expect.

The very first day we arrived in Alabama was one of the most stressful of my life. I have severe flight anxiety and had already flown all day by myself with my now five year old son through some of the worst turbulence I have ever experienced (I will not be flying through Denver again). Followed by a drive from Nashville down to Huntsville where we got caught in a huge thunderstorm and I could barely see the road while driving. We pulled into a gas station and waited out the storm. I screamed every time the thunder boomed– I’ve never heard anything so loud in my life.

Immediate regret. What have we done? What have we done?

I am a California girl. I’ve lived in California my whole life except for the three years I went to college in Seattle. And guess what? I came back to California because I couldn’t handle the weather there. The seasonal affective disorder got me.

So then, you may ask, why would you move to one of the most severe-weather-prone states in the country? That’s a great question my friend. And the asnwer is– I didn’t know. I didn’t know how intense the weather was here. I know that sounds ridiculous, but like I mentioned, it was perfect when we came to visit in the spring. I had no idea what I was in for. And who knows, maybe the Lord shielded me from seeing Alabama in all its glory beforehand to get me to agree to the move.

Weather aside, these past few months have been stormy both literally and metaphorically. My health, already fragile, has taken a nosedive due to all the stress of moving and also dealing with our son, who is on the spectrum, who has been having constant violent outbursts due to his own stress from the huge transition.

We have been hanging on by a thread, and my responses to the pain and suffering that have accompanied this move have been less than godly.

I have been anxious.

I have been despairing.

I have been bitter.

I have tried to escape.

This was not what I expected or wanted. This was supposed to be a step forward for our family– securing the future we longed for. Instead, it feels like a major step backwards. The life we had in California- though not perfect by any means- was good. At least, I had it good. I had my friends and my family. We had an amazing church. We had great weather.

Life was certainly better there, right? Moving here was a huge mistake. Things were easier in California. Life was comfortable.

But is comfort the goal?

Now I have choices to make. Like what I will do with all the broken pieces of my life. Will I offer them up to God and trust Him with the outcome or further try to control things to get my way? I’ve contrived every possible way to move back, but the Lord’s answer for now has been: stay.

Once again, I ask you: how do you respond when life is not what you wanted it to be?

I’ve struggled with this question for years as I’ve dealt with chronic health issues and my son’s behavior struggles. But everything is now amplified as I’ve lost my sense of home too. I’m still in the thick of it and certainly don’t have all the answers, but I am still certain of this: God is faithful and His promises are true. As tempting as it is to doubt His love and goodness in these excruciating seasons, He is the only one I have to hold onto so I have to cling to the truth.

Whom have I in heaven but you? And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you.

~Psalm 73:25

Sometimes the Lord has to strip away everything we cling to in this world to get us to cling to Him. The story of Job is a prime example of this. The stripping away can be painful beyond imagination, and we are allowed to grieve the things that have been lost, but we don’t grieve as those without hope (1 Thessalonians 4:13).

I am still in the grieving season– I miss California dearly and it will always be home– but I do have hope, whether we move back or not. My hope is in my good Father, who promises to give me hope and a future (Jeremiah 29:11). My hope is that He has not abandoned me and will never leave me, that He still has good plans for me and a purpose for me here in Alabama, even if it looks entirely different than what I envisioned. Perhaps it will be better than I ever could have imagined.

Our peace, hope, and joy cannot be tied to circumstances or we will always be miserable. We will always be focused on what we don’t have, instead of what we do: the Lord Himself. He is our peace, hope, and joy. And He can make a way where we can’t see one. We just have to surrender and turn to Him, accepting the circumstances He has graciously ordained for us instead of fighting against Him.

So I continue to press forward day after day, living in the tension of where I want to be and where I am, and trusting God to fill in the gap.

thoughts

hey Church, let’s get real

alyssapebbles

As a church-dwelling Christian for the past ten years of my life, I have discovered the life-giving, beautiful and empowering community that the church can be. Being among God’s people has lifted me up in the darkest seasons, given me the deepest friendships I’ve ever had, and strengthened my faith in a way it never could have been on my own.

But I have noticed one glaring deficiency, particularly in the more “Christian culture” type of churches and areas. It’s the compulsion among many church members (hear me, not all) to give off the image of being a “perfect” Christian. I will admit to being guilty of this at times.

We put on our Sunday best, dressing our kids up in their little matching polos or dresses, hoping to project that we have it all together. We love to talk about how our kids are excelling in sports or academics. We talk about our own successes, the vacations we are going on soon. We talk about all the exciting things God is doing in our lives. We keep the conversation light, making sure not to offend anyone or get into anything too heavy. We get uncomfortable if someone brings up something hard they are struggling with, and immediately try to shift the conversation back to the positives, all the “blessings” in our lives. Because good Christians don’t complain, right?

None of this is inherently wrong. It is good to dwell on the good; in fact it is biblically encouraged (see Philippians 4:8). But when it’s all we are comfortable talking about and sharing with members of the body who we are supposed to be sharing not only our joys but our burdens with, there is a problem.

Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. For if anyone thinks he is something, when he is nothing, he deceives himself.

~Galatians 6:2-3

Bearing one another’s burdens is fulfilling the law of Christ. It is a prerequisite to following God. He knows we are in a fallen world and that we are all suffering in one way or another, so He made us for each other to lean on one another. How do we do that? We have to share our hearts. We have to share what’s really going on in our world, not just what we want others to see.

I get that that’s hard for a lot of people. Social media certainly has not helped. We are trained from the moment we are born to keep our problems to ourselves and sacrifice our mental health for the sake of looking good, looking like we have it altogether, and not burdening others. Women are especially vulnerable to this mindset. And it is so twisted.

On the other hand, I have always lived with my heart on my sleeve. If I’m upset, everyone around me knows it. I guess I never received the “how to be a proper woman” handbook because I’ve always felt so different than my female peers. I’ve never been able to “fake it” or appear to have it altogether. I’ve always been a mess and everyone around me knows it, because I do talk about it. Admittedly sometimes too much, and the Lord is refining me in this area and teaching me the difference between true lament and mere complaining.

But you know what I’ve noticed? Whenever I do talk about my struggles, other people start opening up too. And suddenly I feel less alone. And they feel less alone. And something magical happens. We all feel closer and more at peace. They tell me they are grateful for my vulnerability. That me sharing my hard helps them with their hard.

So maybe it’s a gift when properly stewarded?

As I’ve gone through some intense trials the past six years of my life between chronic illness, a pandemic marriage and pregnancy, and a challenging child, my heart has changed for the suffering. I can no longer avert my eyes away from others’ pain, because it is my daily reality. I long to know others’ stories of hardship and overcoming, to give me hope that I am not the only one going through something hard, and that it is possible to move forward and to grow and heal. To know that my pain is normal, not something that makes me lesser than or weak.

The truth is, everyone is suffering. We all have something(s), major or minor, that are disrupting our lives and even making us question God at times. Some of us are just better at hiding it than others.

We create a toxic church when we only focus on the “positive.”

Toxic positivity is the belief that people should maintain a positive mindset no matter how dire or difficult a situation is. While there are benefits to being optimistic and engaging in positive thinking, toxic positivity rejects all difficult emotions in favor of a cheerful and often falsely positive façade.1

I think this toxic positivity stems from the fact that we have the Americanized, prosperity gospel notion that suffering is bad and to be avoided. But this is not the gospel truth at all, in fact it’s in stark contrast to it:

I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.

~John 16:33, emphasis added

Mainstream American culture has seeped into the church, having us believe that if we just work hard enough and have enough faith, our lives will be happy and blessed. It’s an enticing perspective and easy to get sucked into. It even often seems as if it is the case based on the claims of many so called “believers.”

But don’t be fooled– the reality is that suffering is our lot in this life, regardless of our faith or efforts. Just look at the greatest “heroes” of Bible– they all suffered tremendously, often by the hand of God Himself. Sometimes I feel like I can relate more to Job than to the people around me, but maybe that’s not a bad thing. Because suffering isn’t the end of the story, but it certainly will be if we don’t talk about it.

Maybe what we’re so afraid of isn’t the suffering itself, but the loss of our idol of self-sufficiency. Because when we admit that we are struggling, we are admitting we need help. And when we admit we need help, we are conceding that we can’t do it on our own.

But good news, friends. We were never supposed to do it on our own. That’s kind of the whole point of Jesus dying on the cross.

When we recognize and admit our need, first to God and then to the trusted members of our church body, we are met with the true blessing of fellowship with God and His people. And that far outweighs any superficial blessings we could ever desire.

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.

Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.

~Matthew 5:3-5

It is only in acknowledging our weakness that we find His true strength. It is only through suffering that we are made whole. None of us gets through this life without pain, so let’s stop pretending it doesn’t exist. Rather, let’s embrace one another without judgment or fear and limp along together towards the cross.

One day all our pain will be gone.

  1. https://www.verywellmind.com/what-is-toxic-positivity-5093958 ↩︎
thoughts

new hope

alyssapebbles

The end of the year always brings a sense of hopefulness about the year to come…especially after a particularly difficult year. This has been one of those years for me. In fact I could say 2023 has been the hardest year of my life– yet also the most refining and beautiful year in many ways, as I have seen my relationship with Christ grow through suffering and realized my ability to endure through his strength.

Although I’m far from where I want to be, I see how far God has carried me and I am believing that He has good things in store for 2024. We have already been blessed with a new home that we get to move into soon, and I have seen progress in my health journey, although still rocky. There are so many blessings all around me if I just have the eyes to see them, instead of focusing on what I lack.

It can be easy to become cynical, bitter, or fearful after hard things keep happening to you and it feels like you are being constantly pummeled by life. It can feel like the other shoe is always going to drop. It can feel dangerous to hope, because nothing ever seems to work out. Engaging these feelings has been a great temptation this year, and I still dwell in these mentalities more frequently than I’d like to admit.

But God has shown me that there is another way to view the future– through the lens of His love and providence. To trust that He is still good and working, even though life has been hard. That He is taking care of me through the hard things as He always has, and will continue to in the future. So even when the other shoe does drop (and it usually does, doesn’t it?), He will be right there with me. That gives me no excuse to be bitter or fearful anymore.

Although I still hope for fully restored health, I am learning to take it day by day and to celebrate the small victories (such as not being in pain at night!). It’s so easy to see how far I have yet to go, but I know God is asking me to just invite him into the here and now, to be content with what currently is because this is where He is. That He is healing and will heal me in His timing.

I am grateful to put this year behind me but I will carry its lessons into the new year and for the rest of my life. I don’t want to erase it from my memory or pretend it never happened, as painful as it was. I have learned to appreciate the small things so much more because of the suffering I have had to walk through, and God has truly changed my perspective.

While a new year does not magically change our circumstances or make us better versions of ourselves, it does give us a refresh, a restart, in a sense. Just as His mercies are new every morning (Lamentations 3:22-23), each new year brings new mercies. We can hold onto fresh hope in who God is and what He is doing. We can believe that this year will be better than the last, that the best truly is yet to come for us who are in Him.

Even if 2024 brings more hardship and pain (which it most likely will), we can rest in the promise that He continues to work in and through us and our circumstances. We can have a fresh perspective on pain and suffering, and begin to truly experience His peace and joy in the midst of it. We don’t have to be afraid because we know He is in control of every situation in our lives and in the world.

Our hope is not found in our circumstances. Our hope is found solely in Him, and because of that, we can rejoice because that means every new year He is with us. We can have hope because we don’t walk into another year alone, but rather with the One who loves us and is making all things new (Revelation 21:5).

So while I still have hope for things to change in 2024, I can rest knowing that even if they don’t, my true hope is secured forever in Him.

thoughts

staying in the hard place–where Jesus is

alyssapebbles

I’ve always been able to escape hard things. I grew up in an upper-middle-class family in the safe bubble of a quiet suburban town. I have two loving parents and was given everything I ever needed to be comfortable and happy: healthy food, a nice house, good schools, lots of family vacations… you get the point. I was never deprived of worldly comforts growing up, and other than the typical angsty teen years I never encountered true suffering.

I am so grateful I was raised that way. I am so grateful to my parents who worked so hard to give me and my brother everything. I’m grateful the Lord sheltered me from childhood trauma or abuse or poverty that so many people have had to go through.

But it made the entering the real world incredibly difficult. I had learned to expect comfort– to feel entitled to it even. So when it was stripped away from me, I had no foundation to make sense of what was happening.

Whenever things were hard growing up, I had my parents to fall back on– whether that was financially, emotionally, or anything else. I was a great dancer and I loved it but I wanted to stop dancing so I could spend more time with my friends, so my mom let me quit. I nearly dropped out of college because I knew I could just run home to them. I couldn’t hold down jobs after college because I knew I had a fallback. I never learned true resilience or grit. I never learned the art of sticking things out, even and especially when they got hard– because I didn’t think they were supposed to be.

I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.

John 16:33

But then chronic illness entered my life. And in one short year I became both a wife and a mother. And I can no longer run from the hard. I can no longer call my mom to come save me from the darkness I face. No amount of money or emotional support can relieve me of the weight I now have to carry.

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.

Matthew 11:28-30

But I’m learning that God can. And all He asks me to do is be still, and trust Him. To stay right here in the middle of the pain that feels like is stealing my best days from me, and trust that He somehow He is making beauty from even this. To stop frantically trying to heal myself or figure out ways to make my life easier or more manageable.

I can’t escape my own body and the pain I now experience daily, and I can’t escape being a mother to a strong-willed, smart toddler who knows how to push my weary mind and body to it’s absolute end. But I can let Jesus come and meet me in the middle of this mess of my life and give me a new perspective– one where my problems melt away in light of His presence.

Perhaps true resilience isn’t fighting against our circumstances until we have our way and our outcomes. Perhaps it’s simply accepting circumstances as they are– as painful as they are– and letting God do His good work. Not getting in His way with our striving and anxious efforts to free ourselves anymore.

And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.”

Philippians 1:6

When I try to run away, I’m missing out on the blessing that is right here. The miracle that God is doing in me and in my life, through the pain. Through the suffering. When I stay right here and look to Him instead of a million other things to try to get out of my pain, when I quiet my heart and fix it upon His steadfast love, His power is unleashed. His story can finally begin to unfold unhindered in me, instead of the frantic one I’ve been trying to write.

His story is so much better than mine. Where I see only pain, He sees potential. Where I see only darkness, He is light.

Even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is bright as the day, for darkness is as light with you.

Psalm 139:12

Would I rather keep trying to piece together all this brokenness in my own strength, trying to salvage something manageable out of it in sheer hopeless desperation? Or can I lay it all down before Him, the One who redeems all things and makes all things work for His great purposes?

And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.

Romans 8:28

Maybe this story was never meant to be mine. Maybe it’s part of a greater story whose author is Love Himself. Maybe this story is all about His glory– and how glorious He is. I would be crazy to try to run from a story like that.

So when I wake up tomorrow and my body hurts and my son is screaming at me and everything in me wants to give up and despair, I want to choose to stay. To be present, and to be near to Jesus. To cling to Him with every breath, and to see Him working this all out for my good and for His glory.

I love the way Dr. Pardington puts it in the devotional Streams in the Desert:

The right thing is simply to trust God, for while we trust, He can work. Worrying, however, prevents Him from doing anything for us. If the darkness covering us strikes terror in our hearts and we run back and forth, seeking in vain to find a way of escape from the dark trial where God’s providence has placed us, then the Lord cannot work on our behalf. Only the peace of God will quiet our minds and put our hearts at rest. We must place our hand in His as a little child and allow Him to lead us into the bright sunshine of His love. He knows the way out of the dense, dark forest, so we may climb into His arms, trusting Him to rescue us by showing us the shortest and most reliable road.

I want to stop fighting and just be still, knowing that He is fighting for me. He hasn’t forgotten or abandoned me– no, rather He sovereignly allows every circumstance in my life because He loves me. Because He knows what kind of fruit it will produce in me, fruit that could be produced in no other way. He knows the harvest that is coming, however long it takes. His timing is not my own, but it is perfect.

Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life.

John 12:24-25

God is putting to death in me the things that were never meant to last: my pride, my idols of comfort and health, my hope in anything other than Him. Pain is peeling back the ugly layers of my heart. But the death of these things is what will lead to new life in Him. As a dear friend and mentor recently told me: I am like a seed that is germinating. Everything looks dark all around me as I am buried deep in the ground, but after I have died to myself, I will sprout up with new life.

Whatever kind of pain you are facing– give it to Him. Stop carrying it alone and stop trying to run from it. Face it head on with your Father who is for you and will turn it into something magnificent in your life. Lay down your own will and take up your cross. His way is better than you could ever imagine, and He will produce a harvest beyond your wildest dreams.

Maybe this hard place that I want so desperately to escape is the place right where He is.

So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.

2 Corinthians 4:16-18
thoughts

mind over matter

alyssapebbles

I can change my reality based on how I choose to see it.

The Lord has been reminding me of the power of my mind. What I think about has a massive effect on every aspect of my health and wellbeing:

For as he thinketh in his heart, so is he…

Proverbs 23:7

As a psychology major, you would think I would always have been aware of that. But through years of chronic illness I had all but forgotten about the power of my mind and my attitude. I convinced myself my negative attitudes were justified given my negative situation, but now I see that was the enemy slowly needling his way into my mind until countless strongholds were built that I am just now beginning to dismantle.

There is a very real spiritual battle for our minds, friends. There is a very real enemy trying to take us out by whispering lies that so easily feel like truths to us. But there is also a very real God who speaks the real Truth, and we can begin to listen to and believe Him.

Maybe it took this much pain for me to see it– there is no place for negativity, bitterness, self-pity, anger, or anxiety in my life if I expect to be well, if I expect to live into the promises of God. I cannot entertain these mindsets for a second longer. It’s a matter of survival.

When life is comfortable and easy, it seems like we can get away easier with these negative mindsets. Surely they make us more miserable than we need to be, but there are no serious implications yet. But when the rubber meets the road and you find yourself going through trials (which all of us eventually will), that same attitude can plunge you into an abyss you just may never come out of. The stakes are excruciatingly high.

I’m learning this the hard way, but learning it nonetheless. If I indulge myself in any amount of anxiety at this point in my life, my physical body immediately responds in pain. I simply cannot entertain anxiety anymore.

And the same is true for self-pity. All these years I’ve felt sorry for myself I have unknowingly dug myself into a pit of despair. The more I allow self-pity to take residence in my mind, the deeper the pit gets and the harder it is to get out. It is the worst prison to be trapped in–the prison of your own mind.

So what can we do? How do we change our mindsets and get out of these toxic, destructive thinking patterns?

The answer is simple and practical: the Gospel. God’s Word.

His divine power has granted to us all things that pertain to life and godliness, through the knowledge of him who called us to his own glory and excellence, by which he has granted to us his precious and very great promises, so that through them you may become partakers of the divine nature, having escaped from the corruption that is in the world because of sinful desire.

1 Peter 1:3-4

Everything we need to flourish is found in the word of God. As I study and meditate more deeply on Scripture, I have found this to be true. For every negative thought that comes to my mind, there is a scripture to combat it. It’s as if He knows every trap we can possibly fall into and has the remedy for each one.

The more I study His word, the more amazed I am at how nourishing it is to my soul. But the only way it can nourish my soul is if I renounce and release the lies that are currently taking up precious space in there. This is repentance– letting go of what is getting in between me and Him. And I’m finding that sadly there is a lot.

But I don’t have to be discouraged, because every day I am getting stronger. The progress is slow but it is happening. I am changing. I am becoming more like Him, as my mind is being renewed (Romans 12:2). And I am so, so grateful.

This change is possible for all of us, but here’s the key: you have to want it. You have to want Him and His ways– not your own. You have to be willing to surrender your engrained ways of thinking and be willing to think differently.

For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts higher than your thoughts.

Isaiah 55:8-9

Sometimes we get so comfortable in our negativity that we are afraid of changing. We feel safe and protected by our negative mindsets; they keep us from taking real risks and having real hope, which could inevitably lead to hurt.

But the real danger is remaining stuck in the enemy’s lies. His goal is to steal our joy. We can never become all we were meant to be unless we learn to walk in truth, even when the truth feels completely counter to all we are experiencing.

It takes discipline and a constant returning to the Word if you really want your mind to change. You have to “take every thought captive” and hold it up to the light of scripture, to test if it is true or not (2 Corinthians 10:5). It’s hard work, but it’s worth it to experience the rest and joy of living in deeper intimacy with our Savior.

Changing my mind doesn’t change my circumstances, but it does change my heart. And that is what God is after. As we allow the Holy Spirit to align our minds with His, circumstances may or may not change, but it will no longer matter, because we have Him.

And when we have Him, we are free.

health, thoughts

in the midst: a choice

alyssapebbles

I have suffered from severe health anxiety for four and a half years now, when life as I knew it was flipped upside down in a small apartment in Santa Cruz, and I could no longer rely on a healthy body anymore.

There have been so many tears shed, angry words shouted, and dreams ripped away. There has been self-pity, bitterness, and despair of life itself. What is the point of living in a body so broken?

I have spent four and a half years fighting against my circumstances. Fighting against what I thought God had unfairly inflicted on me. Why me, God? Why this?

I have refused to see my health problems as anything but a curse– problems to be solved. I have put my entire hope into doctors, therapists, and anyone who claims to know how to heal me. I have put my hope into physical healing. I have idolized health as the ultimate goal of my life.

And finally, as my health problems multiply and seem to get worse instead of better, I have learned a secret:

The secret of acceptance.

After four and a half years, God has broken through to me in a way I can finally understand. That all this time He has not been absent– He has been very near. That in fact the very circumstances of my life and my health that I have rejected have been the ones that He has been using to draw me to Him.

Suffering has a way of doing that.

I think I’m only just beginning to understand it, but perhaps all this time this suffering has actually been a gift. Perhaps without it, I would never have had to rely on God deeply and develop the relationship that I have with Him now. Perhaps I would never understand the deeper realities of Him and His Kingdom.

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.

Matthew 5:3-4

Maybe the goal is not to be the most comfortable and happy in this life. Maybe I’ve had it wrong all this time and it’s actually the suffering that refines me and helps me to see the greater opportunity of comfort and happiness in Him.

If this life is all there is, then of course we should try to make ourselves as comfortable as possible here. By all means we should pursue our own happiness.

But if there is more, if in fact we are only living in a shadow of what is to come– an eternity with the King of Love– then maybe, just maybe, this life is training grounds. And part of that training includes how we respond when life doesn’t go the way we want it to.

I’ve realized I’ve only compounded my suffering by the ways I’ve responded to it. And God offers a much, much better way: to run to Him.

Because He already knows. He knows my every thought, every single hair on my head. He knows this is not the way I would’ve chosen. But He has chosen this way for me because He loves me.

For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.

Isaiah 55:8-9

What if there is so much more to my own story than I can see right now? What if all of this suffering is not meaningless, but is actually paving the way to a more glorious outcome than I could ever imagine? And even if I don’t see that outcome in this life, I have a guarantee that I will when I see Him face to face.

So whether or not I am physically healed, I can look forward to the new and perfect body I will have in Heaven, after I have run the race He has called me to. And for now, I can choose to see everything in my life– both good and bad– as blessings from His hand.

thoughts

when fear lingers

alyssapebbles

As I find myself in yet another season of anxiety, I wonder why I am here again. Why I can’t seem to get a grip on reality and just relax. Why I can’t just trust God in my heart, even though my head knows that He is trustworthy.

My anxiety is twofold as it manifests both physically and mentally, one affecting the other in an endless loop. The most recent fun thing is the chest tightness and pain. Am I having a heart attack? Or is it just the anxiety? All you hypochondriacs out there feel me. It doesn’t help that I have overwhelming health anxiety from my chronic illnesses that already takes up way too much mental space.

I can play these dangerous mind games and be convinced by Google that I am dying, OR I can look hard at my fears and wonder if they are really worth fearing.

We just got back from the trip of my dreams to Ireland– a delayed honeymoon that was supposed to happen during Covid but never did. I honestly didn’t think we would be able to go after having our baby and finances being relatively tight, but the hubby gave us the green light and we got to go to the place I’ve always wanted to visit.

And the whole time, I was anxious. Anxious about the flights, anxious about being away from my baby for so long, anxious about dealing with my health issues in another country…the list goes on and on. I still enjoyed our time there, but underlying the whole trip was a deep-seated dread that still hasn’t fully gone away.

Satan tries to convince me these fears are rational– there is so much to be afraid of, after all. Planes go down, people get terminally ill, tragedies happen all the time. Maybe if I worry enough, everything will be alright. Maybe if I grip the armrests of my plane seat tight enough, the plane will stay in the air. Maybe all this worrying will give me some semblance of control in a world that feels absolutely. out. of. it.

And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?

Matthew 6:27

That’s what fear really is, isn’t it? A desire to be in control. We wouldn’t be fearful or anxious if we didn’t want or need things to be a certain way. If we trusted a good God to handle all the outcomes in our life, there would be no room for anxiety. It simply wouldn’t be able to exist.

I don’t want to say that anxiety is as simple as a lack of faith, but in a sense it is. In a sense, it is a choice. It is the choice to trust in ourselves instead of God. But if we profess to be Christians, we have no reason to fear. Death itself cannot separate us from Him.

Anxiety manifests when our hopes and desires are misaligned. If my hope is in my health, my family, or financial stability, I have every reason to fear because I could lose any of those things in a moment. But if my hope is in Him, I can have true peace regardless of my circumstances.

It still takes my heart a while to catch up to these truths, but the Lord is patient with me. He keeps inviting me to His rest, His peace. He keeps loving me and holding me even as I give into my fears and let them overwhelm me. He won’t give up on me. He knows my weakness, and He asks me to give it all to Him. To let Him transform my mind from fear to faith. From anxiety to peace. From despair to hope.

You can’t talk yourself out of anxiety but you can talk to Him. You can cast all your cares on Him, because He cares deeply for you (1 Peter 5:7). You can tell Him everything on your heart and mind, everything that is burdening and weighing you down, and He will listen. He will hold you and remind you of His love for you. He will give you renewed hope and joy. He will give you peace that surpasses understanding.

This world truly is a fearful place– we should expect it to be. But that doesn’t mean we have to be afraid. Satan only has dominion for now, and only the dominion that God lets him have. This is not the end of the story, friends. We have great hope not only in eternity, but even now.

There is no quick fix for anxiety, but rather a slow re-learning of mind and heart patterns that have been deeply engrained in us over the years. Just as anxiety is a learned thought pattern, we can learn trust. We can begin to train our minds to focus on what God says about us and the world when the anxious thoughts start creeping in. We can reject the thoughts that don’t serve us anymore, and claim God’s truths. Over time those truths will become instinctual– our immediate inner responses to the circumstances in our lives.

We have to be in the Word to do this. We have to memorize His promises so that they are available to us in every moment of fear. And we have to fellowship. We have to be with other believers who will listen and care for us, and remind of us of the truth when we forget– which we will.

It is a lifelong battle, but it is worth it. We are not meant to live in fear.

thoughts

lacking nothing

alyssapebbles

Why is it so hard to find contentment, to be fully present in my current reality with nothing but gratitude in my heart?

Why, when God has given me everything and more, do I still long for something else, for what’s next? As if He is withholding something from me, as if I am not yet complete in Him in this very moment?

No good thing does he withhold from those who walk uprightly.

Psalm 84:11

I suppose it’s our miserable human condition– to always want more. To overlook everything good and perfect and right and see only what is lacking. To live in scarcity instead of abundance.

A year ago I couldn’t have fathomed the blessings that God has poured out on me. How generous and loving He’s been, how perfect His timing has been in my life. And yet, instead of appreciating those blessings and the Blesser Himself, I am focusing on what I still lack or what else I want– like a spoiled child.

Maybe the things of this world were never meant to satisfy us like He can. Maybe in all our searching and seeking and hoping for certain outcomes, we are turning away from the One who has already given us the best outcome of all.

I don’t want to live in this self-created hell of misplaced desire anymore. Desire for money, for a forever home, for perfect health. My desires enslave me; they hold me captive. I wake in the morning and think not of God but rather scheme about how I can obtain them. How did I fall so far?

But He understands. He doesn’t condemn. He created me– he knows I’m broken, that I can never love and desire Him as He deserves to be loved and desired. And He urges me to come home, to make Him my one true desire. He reminds me that He will take care of everything I want and need when I seek Him first.

And He wants to transform my desires. To help me see that the things I desire aren’t even worth desiring at all– in the end all is in Him. These temporary, worldly pleasures will not last. Health will not last. A job will not last. A home will not last. When I seek after these things and make them idols in my heart, I am replacing the One who can fulfill me with things that will never fully satisfy.

I want to be one who is so engulfed in her relationship with Christ that I can’t even see or think of anything else. To be so fully absorbed by Him that all my cares and worries, desires and temptations, hopes and dreams just melt away and I am completely content. Completely free to let Him bend me to His will and desires for me.

I don’t need to seek after my own gain anymore– there is One who has already given me everything.

But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.

Matthew 6:33
thoughts

on anxiety and motherhood

alyssapebbles

I’ll be honest with you––I’ve been dealing with crippling anxiety. And when I say crippling, I mean crippling. It stops me in my tracks and I feel like I can’t move or breathe. It’s a weight on my chest that won’t lift; a deep, deep fear that I can’t shake or pinpoint.

It’s not that I’ve never had anxiety or panic attacks before. It’s just that I had more space to process it in the past. Now I have a very needy toddler who needs a very functional mother. And some (can I say most?) days I feel hardly that.

I don’t share this with you to earn your pity or as a cry for help. I share it with you to normalize it. So that we can all finally admit that life is hard and motherhood is hard. The kind of hard that makes you not want to get out of bed in the morning, which scares you and makes you feel like the worst mother in the world.

But we keep going. We keep getting up for our kids. Mothers are the bravest people I know.

I’m learning that I’m stronger than I think I am. That even when I wake up at 5:30 with my heart pounding and my stomach in knots, I can still make it through the day. I can put on my clothes and brush my teeth and feed and dress a toddler and get out the door to go explore a new trail. I can function.

My whole life I have felt weak and not enough. I have told myself I can’t more times than I could ever number. My natural disposition is one of defeat. When things get hard, I give up.

But God is showing me a new way. I can’t escape motherhood and it’s demands like I’ve been able to escape so many other hard circumstances in my life, so I have to find a way to walk through it. And the way through is by leaning on Him, receiving His strength. Moment by moment, day by day, year by year. Learning to tell myself I can, through His strength. And He’s given it to me, just as much as I’ve needed.

I pray that I will look back on this season and have deep compassion for myself. I pray that I will thank God for bringing me through this, for making me a stronger and more resilient person––a person who can help other women in the throes of darkness. I never wanted to be so intimately familiar with the darkness, but perhaps it’s the only way I can ever truly help bring others out.

health, thoughts

no matter what: trusting God with my health

alyssapebbles

I’ve written about my health struggles before, but as I go through a new season of chronic anemia, once again I am presented with the choice of either faith or bitterness.

These past few months, every morning I wake up to get up and feed my little one, I feel as though I haven’t slept at all––even though I’ve gotten a solid seven or eight hours. This is pretty much how I feel the rest of the day. I have to go back to bed during my baby’s first morning nap, forsaking any other tasks I may have wanted to get done.

Any energy I do have is spent wrangling an almost-toddler into his clothes for the day and keeping a constant eye on him as he gets himself into all sorts of trouble. I have to take another nap during his afternoon one if I have any hope of surviving the rest of the day, once again putting off tasks so that I can get the rest I need.

We moved to our new house over a month ago and I still haven’t been able to go on a run because I just haven’t had the energy. I have to oh-so-carefully plan my days so that I don’t overload myself with the increasingly limited energy I do have.

Needless to say, it is beyond frustrating to function at this capacity. Any additional stressors throughout my days (which are many, of course) tip me over the edge because I am already at my end. Being exhausted all the time is exhausting––go figure. I have nothing left for my husband or even for myself at the end of the day.

I find myself growing angrier with each day that I wake up continuing to feel like this. I am irritable and depressed, anxious and hopeless. Why are you putting me through this, God? Why can’t you just heal me?

I know I am echoing the cries of so many others, so many saints who have endured prolonged suffering. And I know that my suffering is probably only a shadow compared to what some have to go through. But it is still suffering, and it is still unbearable at times.

I will admit that most days I let my suffering overcome and defeat me. Instead of reaching out to God and bringing my pain to Him, I shut down and play the victim. I feel sorry for myself and become consumed in my own pain. I wallow.

But recently I came across a psychological term that I had heard of before but never looked deeply into: radical acceptance. It means accepting your circumstances exactly as they are without judging or reacting to them. For some reason, this seemed incredibly profound to me, and I realized its because I’ve been doing the exact opposite––I have completely rejected my circumstances, and by doing so have compounded my suffering.

When we reject the circumstances God has given us, we expend all our energy trying to change things that can’t be changed. We run ourselves ragged by focusing on all that’s wrong, which burns us out and leads us to despair.

What we pay attention to is what we become. If we are so consumed by our suffering, we will only become more bitter, angry and despondent. But if we focus on Christ and His goodness in the midst of our suffering, we will begin to move forward in faith.

Focusing on God in the middle of our suffering often looks like lament. But it is so much better to release our negative feelings to Him than to internalize them or take them out on everyone around us. He knows what to do with them. He knows how to transform them. I can’t will my heart into submission to Him, but He can do it for me through His Spirit.

Even if all I can do is repeat a single passage of Scripture over and over in my mind, He can use that to change my heart. And once my heart is changed, it no longer matters whether the suffering continues or not.

It takes great maturity to get to the place where we love and trust God no matter what. No matter how we are feeling or what is taking place in our life. I can’t say I am anywhere near that level of faith or maturity yet, but I want to be. And God sees my desire and He can use it.

We are guaranteed suffering in this life:

I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.”

John 16:33

It is not in our circumstances that we will find peace. We may think that once everything is going the way we want it to we will finally have peace and joy, but this is not so. If we can’t find peace in Him right now, in the middle of what we are going through, we never will.

As much as I wish I could just be a normal, healthy young adult, God has had a different plan for my life. It’s not the suffering I would have chosen, and it often doesn’t feel noble, holy, or even meaningful. I often don’t understand why I have to go through this.

But I am comforted by the fact that He is a “man of sorrows” who knows my pain and is with me in it. I don’t know when or if He will choose to heal me, but I’m learning to be a steward of the energy I do have and the resources He has given me.

He is not hard on me the way I am hard on myself. He doesn’t expect me to conquer the world––He only expects me to trust Him, no matter what.