I wrote you in the beginning of the year about packing up, and traveling three hours north to live in a woodland fairytale house. I am writing now to say adventure is still knocking on our door. My love and I have been talking for years about building our own little home one day; our dream has been "tiny" in the biggest way. Because this dream had a pretty hefty price tag and some lofty requirements, we shelved it. This became our biggest "one day" that followed us around and hummed in the back of our minds.

Sometimes we convince ourselves that certain dreams are unobtainable. Sometimes we don't allow dreams to become anything more than, well, dreams. Sometimes we let uncertainty cloud our intuition, and keep us from letting the light in.

But sometimes it seems as if a curtain is drawn and the window of opportunity turns out to be a door. In this case, it was in the form of a gracious sister who comes to you to say, "Let's build it." At first we were so used to our dream being just a dream that we didn't even know how to respond, but if there is anything that our latest move has taught me, it is that sometimes you just need to take the leap. 

Our home in the woods has been an absolute wonder, and I am bursting with gratitude for the lessons and for the growth. Soon we will pack up our things, say goodbye to our woodland cabin, and move once again. We are still going to be woodland dwellers, as we are moving from one wood to another, but this time our move is to build upon our "one day" dream.

I would like to say I am a brave person, but oftentimes I can be just as fearful... but here are some of my bravery goals...

To be brave enough to take more risks for unique opportunities.

To be brave enough to explore the uncomfortable treadmill of a life that I seem to be stuck on, trying to learn what the Lord is teaching me in this season.

To be brave enough to have more positive thoughts about myself.

To be brave enough to stand out from others, even if it may not be normal.

To be brave enough to fully give into myself and who the Lord wants me to be. 

I know some of those sound similar, but they each mean something different to me. I've not yet fully completed any of these but I'll keep you posted. 

I have spent the better part of the last year keeping quietly to myself, not in the sense merely of an introvert, but in, more accurately, that of a fear-filled human. I find that even something as simple as sharing my words onto social media has become painstaking and exhausting, even the impending possibility of making plans with another person has begun to take such an emotional toll on my well-being. 

Today, I was able to interact with other sweet humans at work, but felt my voice trail-off towards the end of each sentence, most of their attempts at conversation met with my tired smile and a laugh that has begun to sound less-than-believable.

I know there is bravery in my bones, but I have also learned that there is only so much that one can muster in such simply profound moments. One second of bravery seems stretch so dramatically, but often, darkness tempts to funnel its way through my veins with an even greater fervor, it grasps me, more tightly. 

I’m entering another chapter, though, one in which I listen to the whispers in my heart, but remember to prioritize relationships—to prioritize other dear humans. 

This is my bravery mission, my darlings. It’s time for me to find my bravery.

I had been stuck in a dead-end job for nearly 7 years and I found myself complaining about it to anyone who made eye contact with me. I was unhappy with my job and that consumed me so much that I became unhappy with myself. I let my 9-5 essentially become my own gravity; keeping me close-by, even though I didn't like where I was living. I was feeling homesick for a place that I didn't even think existed. 

A thought came to me in the middle of dinner. I was sitting at the bar with my boyfriend when I thought of making a big change. Something I called a "pipe-dream" for so long because I was afraid my head was in the clouds. But because spending the past five years together, and the way his heart knows mine, he was almost immediately on board. 

Just a few short months later we both quit our jobs, packed up our house, and drove three hours north to live in a cabin in the woods. I cried on the drive up because I could already feel myself coming back to life. I felt at home.

As I sit on my bed, I have "Peace Be Still" by Lauren Daigle playing in the background. 

"Let faith rise up, oh heart believe," were words she sang that stood out to me. I had to ask myself — am I having a heart of faith or fear for my situation right now? I love this verse from 1 Corinthians 16:13. "Be on your guard; stand firm in the faith; be courageous; be strong," it says.
 
Standing firm is a powerful stance. 

Standing in faith is not an easy thing at times. I can tell you that in my life, where I've stood in faith, my perspective and focus have been on God and the plans He has. When I feel myself wavering in faith, it's because my focus is on fear and insecurity. 

I actually think fear and faith are similar because they both mean that you're standing and fixing your focus on a particular thing. The difference is that faith means you trust in God. 

I don't know what is happening in your life at the moment. I don't know what needs you have, or what your fears are. One thing I do know is that I am going to declare words of faith, not fear. Perhaps you'll join me. 

I want to share with you how I got to be where I am today. Today, I'm good. But a year ago today, I wanted to disappear from everything.

I graduated college and I was moving back home with my parents, I left right after the celebration of everything. I had no idea what I was going to do with my future all I knew is that after four years, I wanted to be home. That summer, nearing Father's Day, I was dumped by a text while I was in Walmart, by a guy I wasn't sure ever cared.

I laid in bed for days, weeks even just from the sheer confusion and frustration of the situation. I was struggling to find a job near my parents and trying to pay bills with everything I had left.

One morning, my mom threw the covers off of my bed and told me to get in the car. We drove to the big city two hours away. We must have gone to a good dozen places. Galleries, studios, you name it. I was offered two jobs right off the bat that day and I was ecstatic. That same day, my current boss' nephew was looking for a roommate and offered up this place he was thinking about. To me.

Three weeks later, I got in my car, put on my seatbelt and summoned all of the willpower and bravery and drove away to a new place. The big city. A place I have familiarized myself with as my home. When I drove away that day, I felt like I was leaving behind all of my anxiety and negative feelings behind. I was no longer drowning in a small world I knew nothing about.

That was one year ago.

Maybe one day, this love thing will stop being confusing — the sun and moon will align perfectly, and we'll each have the courage to finally choose each other. But maybe not today. That's okay.

10:25 p.m.
Why is it when you're ready to leap off the cliff into new frontiers, you listen to those around you who are all knowing? The dream is dead. Stands to reason that money is the kicker. The dream is dead. Why, as a provider, does the cost of health insurance kill the dream? The dream is dead. The wind has left my sails. I stand deflated. 

8:59 a.m.
Woke up early and have been chipping away at things in the shop. Woke up thinking of you. Don't let the world beat you down or think it. We do have to dream but also need to find the connection between our dreams and reality. I guess I could be the starving artist if there was only me to worry about. The path I chose has made me realize that being a provider and living a nightmare of turmoil and darkness is what gives us hopes and allows our bodies to heal at night, ready for the next day's fight. It gives us dreams to calm our souls, which brings me full circle. I woke up thinking of you and the bike I will make you. I can see you on a bike with a basket for your dog. I also see you racing from something or racing to something on a bike, feeling the wind on your face, feeling free and going fast. Letting all anger work through your body driving the bike forward and finding relief and coasting for a while. 

She made her way up from the U-Bahn station and into a clear square. Everyone had long since gone to work and school, so the typically cluttered sidewalks and streets were empty and she found herself frozen in place, unsure about the silence. Then she glanced at the map in her hands, moving forward, trying to configure her way through the maze to the museum she had pinpointed earlier that morning over tea.

After wandering in circles for the better part of an hour, she looked up to discover that the clouds had finally decided to wage war with the ground, making good on their threat. The artillery found its way to her guide, and the already fragile paper wings slowly began disintegrating in her hands.

She tucked her map away, giving up on finding refuge, cleared her glasses of the unrelenting rain, and brought her camera up. The shutter clicked, and in the midst of all of the arrows of rain falling from the sky, Beauty’s tip found its way to her soul as she caught a glimpse of the city staring back at its own reflection, releasing sorrowful tears upon itself. In that moment, white flags began to rise in her heart – a declaration of peace on the horizon. Somehow, in the middle of Vienna’s empty vein, a man appeared in the frame, stopping for only a moment. And in that moment, she wondered if he had felt it, too.

2017 has been the hardest year of my life so far. It's funny because I just now am putting together the pieces of what this year was supposed to be for me.

Last year was my breakthrough year — my word was “light” and I did beautiful things and learned beautiful things and turned twenty-four, but most importantly I learned that it was possible for someone like me to break through the darkness.

At the end of 2016, when I was deciding on a word for the next year, I became fixated on "renew" because it was what I knew I needed — to make over, begin again. And looking back on it now, I wonder if it was more of a prayer than it was a goal. After I'd settled on the word, I kept hearing the words "be brave" over and over, like they were bouncing all over my soul and I couldn't get away from them. Should I change my word? Somehow I knew I'd chosen the right word, but something about "be brave" stuck out to me. 

Then it happened. February of this year, I lost the job I had cried tears over, grown at and loved at. I was only an assistant manager, only a restaurant worker, only a mentor to teenagers, only a friendly face at a cash register, only a person barely making ends meet.

It hit me hard and sent me into a bout of depression, hopelessness, and a sense of worthlessness. I had to quit personal training and go back to the beginning on everything. Where do I go from here?

At times, I don't mind admitting I wondered if I even had a life to look forward to anymore — I wondered if I needed to throw in the towel on the life I'd never asked for to begin with.

This week it finally clicked into place and I realized that the words "be brave" were directly from the Father because He was going to answer my prayer for renewal, but it wouldn't be easy. In fact it would be really, really hard and I'd have to lean into self-care and writing and working from home like never before. I'd have to learn to work out on my own and feed my body good food without anyone looking over my shoulder. I'd have to give up the love I'd been hoping for to fight for my own life. He knew that. 

I'm still at the start of my battle, but I'm holding onto my words because I know I'm where I'm supposed to be. Renewal is difficult, gut-wrenching work but I'm placing a bet that it is completely worth it. I don't know how I'm going to finish writing my book or build my business or do any of the things that have been placed on my heart, but I'm going to be really, really brave and just keep pressing into this hard season. I've found there's really no other option.

And so, I don't where you're at. Maybe you're in a hard season too, or maybe you're in a good season--or maybe you're worried about the future. In any case, I hope you choose to be brave. I hope you choose your life. It's the only one you're given and I'd bet it's beautiful and worth it too.