retreat.

the inn at half-mile farm (highlands, nc) 2002

"...He makes me lie down in green pastures.

He leads me beside still waters.

He restores my soul..."

Psalm 23:2-3

re·treat (rĭ-trēt') n.
- The act or process of withdrawing;
- A place affording peace, quiet, privacy, or security;
- A period of seclusion, retirement, or solitude.

until this moment in my life, i've always considered retreat a form of defeat, a reactive less-than-mature inward turn when faced with something painful or difficult. as someone who was on the run for most of her life, the last thing i want to do is run away... and yet, at times, running away is all i've wanted to do. this has been one of those times. instead, the Lord firmly presses His truth onto my heart, the very first verse i ever truly felt Him speaking to me: "Be still and know that I am God." (Psalm 46:10)

being still is not something that has ever come naturally for me. i have been an overtly social, hyperactive, talkative busybody since my preschool days. i have spent a lifetime building and maintaining relationships with so many people from so many different places and seasons of my life. throughout the last year and the new found freedom in Christ, it was the first time in my life that i felt as though i had nothing to hide, no gaping holes to cover. perhaps it was because i felt i had nothing to hide that i felt so comfortable - and so compelled - to simply share everything. all of me.

i realize now, it was all too much. i have spread myself too thinly across, allowed too many people into my life, made erroneous decisions in whom i could place my trust in and in doing so, placed myself in an extremely vulnerable position: one that left me wide open for a devastating and crushing blow to my spirit.

and so, i am taking a retreat. . .

not from the non-negotiables in my life like my family, my job, my college course load, my small group, my church... but from the blogging and facebooking, the perpetual sharing and baring all aspects of my life with people who aren't truly a part of my life. i have four hundred and eight-two friends on facebook. four hundred and eighty-two people who have a virtual window into my life. the thought occured to me that some of these people i wouldn't know [or desire] to speak to if i ran into them at the grocery store and yet they have access to know everything about me and my life. literally, my whole life. photographs of my friends; photographs of my family; my children; a link to my blog. suddenly, that thought was overwhelming to me... and i deactivated my account. i don't know for how long, but at least until i have the time to go in and delete at least four hundred or so of my not-so-close "friends"....

retreat, by definition, is not forever. it is a period of time. a season. a season in which i hope to learn how to balance sharing my life and my faith and my heart while maintaining a sense of self that cannot be so easily shaken and broken; and one in which i look forward to lying down in figurative green pastures and beside figurative (and literal) still waters. and find rest in the peaceful quiet of a place that i have never truly known: solitude.

i will not stop writing. or seeking. or living. i can't stop any of those things because all of them are things that occur in my life without my choosing them. i will only stop sharing; and only for now. this is my retreat, but not my defeat.

in Him, Nadia

sticks and stones.

sticks and stones may break my bones

but words will never hurt me break my heart.

i received an email yesterday filled with words sticks. and stones. all hurling towards my heart., inscribed with words like: disloyalty. dishonesty. pridefulness. materialistic. deceived. unchanged:

"You are very intelligent ... and are more than capable of saying and writing all the "right" things. Whether they truly penetrate your heart and change you and keep you on His path is another thing. I think for the most part ... they only serve to inflate your ego of who you continuously and very loudly proclaim to be in Christ."

it's been nearly two years since i began blogging and writing again. i had loved writing in the earlier years of my life and it, along with many other things, got lost along the path i had chosen for my life. i spent so much time constructing the exterior of my life and with it, a beautiful facade for all to see, that i had completely lost sight of... well, everything. i was a miserable, empty shell of person who lacked authenticity, if not identity. i had so many people in my life, maintained so many friendships and relationships and yet all of them remained superficial, lacking the depth of true intimacy. i was afraid to share who i really was and in many ways, it was because i didn't know who i really was.

i couldn't have known when i started blogging what God had planned for me or for my life or what the pages of this blog would become. i wrote purely for the sake of writing and was initially, reluctant to share it because i was concerned it would affect my transparency or that i would use it as a futile attempt to manipulate others' perceptions of me. instead, it became an outlet, and my heart flowed out through my fingers. even in the year prior to the Lord working such a miracle in my own life, i had already begun to pour myself out in ways i had not ever before. i was a mess. my life was a mess. i still am. it still is. i have never attempted, or desired, to deflect from that truth.

i have no idea how many sets of eyes look at the pages of this blog. whether it is a handful or scores, it matters not. i have never written a single word with the intent of trying to proclaim that i am anyone or anything other than a completely wretched and broken woman who has experienced, by the grace of God, mercy, love and redemption beyond what my human heart can comprehend.

every single time i sit down to write, it is never with the intent to convey a particular message to anyone. the cybershelves of this blog have, over time, become an online journal where i have poured out and shared, without reservation, whatever the Lord pressing on my heart TO ME. FOR ME.... for me. i pray, with all of my heart, that i have not ever attempted to persuade anyone into thinking that i have this thing figured out or that i walk this path with steps filled with prideful self-confidence because i don't. because i can't. there isn't any hope for any of us to live authentic lives or have an authentic relationship with the Lord apart from our willingness to admit that we cannot, ourselves, do anything.

and so, my only LOUD proclamation is this, the same that Paul wrote to Timothy: "Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, among whom I am foremost of all." (Tim 1:15)

my words. my life. my blog. it is not my intent with any of these things to share - or proclaim - anything about who i am, but simply to share a glimpse of who HE is and of this awesome, miraculous, thing He has done - and is STILL doing - in my heart and in my life.

i do not have a message or even a hope of walking this 'narrow path home' in perfection; my only message is one of hope. hope that is found from walking it with Him and allowing Him to pick us up when we stumble, when we fall, and when we run to Him bruised, bloodied and battered both by self-inflicted failures and by the sticks and stones of others. He does not offer us the trite phrases of consolation, but the promise of His word and of His redemption and of His love.

if there is this hope for me, there is this hope for anyone.

to everyone who has read the pages of this blog, that is the only message i have ever had to convey. and let me set the record straight in the event that i ever once indicated that i somehow "did this own my own": i did not choose this path. it was not because of anything i did that i am on this path. i did not "do the right thing" and choose Him. He chose me. i don't know why anymore than you do. but i DO know that it is only by His mercy, His grace and His awesome love that He delivered me and the words that i write, these words that you read, are merely postcards from the journey on which He has set my feet.

"Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths,

but only what is helpful for building others up

according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen."
Ephesians 4:29

seasons change.

"There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under the heavens:
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance...

... and a time for peace".

Ecclesiastes 3

it has been a long, long winter. literally. figuratively.

i drove to school this morning under a cloudless sky. moon roof open. volume up. rays of sunshine brightly beaming all around me. it was the most beautiful morning i've seen in a long, long while. it was the first time i've felt the warmth of the sun on my face. it was a vivid, tangible reflection of the change stirring within me. a reminder that the long, cold winter is nearing the end. literally. figuratively.

i've had so much to write about lately. so many amazing conversations with the most amazing friends in my life about the awesome provision - and love - and grace - and mercy - that we have each experienced over the course of our lives and throughout the last year. i can't organize the words or thoughts to adequately describe the awe that i feel when reflecting upon the orchestration of His perfect plan or how grateful i am that His promise of redemption - of using everything in my past - for my good and His glory has come, and will continue to grow, towards fruition.

countless years of knowing how to say the right things and knowing how do the right things have been eradicated and replaced simply with knowing Him.

i took the first step onto this path late last spring. all of the previous seasons of my life prior to that moment now run together, blurry shades of gray between shadows and darkness. out of my bedroom window, spring was yielding way summer yet, within me God was calling me to a path winding through the midst of a winter season. one that was isolated and cold and at times, lonely. it was along that path, i first began to learn how to find refuge in Him alone, to depend on Him for my every step, to seek Him for my every need. i had lived a lifetime seeking fulfillment through people, places, things... and with each step, He showed me how fruitless my seeking had been apart from Him. in my humanness, i had lived a life in anticipation for what was next, my whole life's happiness always dependent up on something that was yet to come. yet, in that winter, i found my hope - my everything not it what was to come but in the One who was, who is, who is to come. i stopped longing for the seasons to change.

it began to happen before i recognized what it was. a shift in the wind. a shift in my heart. the scent of a new season. i could feel it and sense it long before i could see it. a new season was coming. pausing to look back, i see it all in a new light, brighter than sunshine. shattered pieces of my life a mosaic of His grace, reflecting the light from the sun that's bringing with it the warmth of spring. i take my shoes off and step onto the slivers of green grass. freedom. not from Him, but IN Him.

i haven't arrived anywhere in particular. i am not at some profound destination on the journey or on this narrow path home...

seasons change. but the my path remains the same. HE is my path.

"Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you." Hebrews 13:5

this love.

"He heals the broken heartened,

binding up their wounds."

Psalm 147:3

i had a terrible bicycle accident when i was seven years old. admittedly, i never really mastered the whole bike riding thing - mainly because i was self-taught. i can remember riding up and down our street and instead of turning the handlebars when i needed to turn around, i'd panic and just let the bike fall over while simultaneously trying to jump off of it. lots of torn jeans and scraped knees later, i eventually figured it out. it was a saturday afternoon. i was visiting some friends from school. twins. karen & kathryn. they were identical, but one was a tomboy and the other was girly, which is completely irrelevant. i didn't have my bike with me so i'm pretty sure we were taking turns on the bikes, going up and down the street. i remember thinking what a great job i was doing, as if pedaling up and down the street were some great feat. wind in my hair, smile on my face. and then, that dreadful feeling that i was losing control. gravel. pothole. darkness. total and complete darkness. it was the only time i have ever been knocked unconscious in my life. i came to in their bathroom, the twin's poor mother panic stricken trying to clean the blood of my face. only i didn't immediately recognize her because i had no idea where i was. i had no idea who i was.

yea. life's like that sometimes.

there have been days, many days, since i took the first step on this path that i have allowed my attention to wander momentarily. caught up in the busyness of my everyday life, or the selfishness of my human nature, i begin to [foolishly] think i've got this part under control. in those blurry, busied moments my focus shifts and along with it, some undefined part of me shifts with it: from dependence on Him to self-reliance... and then, i "come to" - face down on in the dirt, having never seen the gravel or the sinkhole in my path.

i'm often reluctant to revisit my past postings for fear of painful reminders from where i have traveled. but then there are moments, like today, when in a quiet whisper i say, "Lord, I need to know you are still there". every word i have written becomes evidence of His presence, of His relentless pursuit of my heart and His unyielding love for me. for me. for me! this is the love that transforms lives. this is the love that calls us out of darkness and into light. this is the love that draws us to obedience and causes disobedience to break our hearts.

when i came home all bandaged and bruised from that bike accident, if i'd had a father waiting for me, i would've likely curled up in his lap. a father's love could not have prevented that fall, but the depth of his love certainly would have compelled me to run to his arms and helped heal those wounds.

yea. God's love is like that.

for me. for you. run to it.

"How great is the love

the Father has lavished on us,

that we should be called

children of God!

And that is what we are!"

1 JN 3:1