strength in numbers

We’re talking about strength on the blog. I’m not sure for how long, because I’m realizing more and more every day about the topic. But recently, I’ve especially been reminded that strength isn’t something you’re meant to do alone. It’s identifying who is on your team, and opening yourself up to experience life together. This last week, my eyes have opened wider at the realization of not just how many people I have on my team, but how many all-stars there are. 

Several weeks back I blogged about visiting my friend Haley in Jacksonville. We’re progressively becoming closer and closer. We share prayer requests. We send each other Snapchats about missing each other. We do the same devotional and text about it frequently. So when my girlfriends and I decided to come to Rosemary Beach for some R&R (only a few short hours from her) I wanted her to be a part of it. So she came.

Let me pause there. She didn’t know anyone there but me. My friends didn’t know her. That alone could have created an awkward tension or cliché-girl-cattiness and put a damper on the weekend. But it didn't. We had an incredible time together. She wanted to know my friends hearts. And they wanted to know hers. After knowing each other for just over 24 hours, we were all sitting around a fire pit at dinner by the ocean at sunset, making toasts about what we appreciated about each other. How we inspired each other. The beauty we all saw in each other. We were magnifying each others strength rather than judging each other for our weaknesses.

As I sat there with a full heart, beaming with happiness, I realized how much God had been answering a repetitive prayer I’d been praying for a while. “God, give me a better understanding of your heart for me."

God had been pouring so much love around me in less than a weeks time. Along with time as a group, I also got to spend time with everyone there individually. Haley and I sat on the balcony into the wee hours of the night drinking gin and tonics and talking about life. We got to lay on the beach with our toes in the sand and talk about the books we were reading, and the lessons God was teaching us. I walked up and down the gulf coast with Tillie, while we opened up about moments from our past that we had buried out of shame, but in the moment could share freely without judgement. I stood in the ocean with Kyle and talked about the waves reminding us of God’s continual grace washing over us.

Cara, one of my best friends who lives out of state,  also happened to be in Rosemary for work one day and we got to catch up over Rosé by the beach. Right before I left town, Emily (another one of my best friends) had come to Nashville from New York and we got to catch up over margaritas and guacamole. It's rare I get to see them, much less days apart, but it's always such a gift to hug tight and sit in the actual presence of a friendship that usually has to happen over phone calls and text messages. 

I also saw Turri, and Ferg and Jordan and Lauren and Sarah and Danica and countless others in that short frame of time.  I could write storybooks, not measly blog posts, about each one of them individually. How upstanding they all are as people and how much their friendships have impacted me.

It’s no coincidence that God blanketed me with every one of these moments within the span of just a few days. He rallied the troops. He brought me face to face- up close and personal with the cream of the crop friends so I could be loved on. Every friend that has coached me through a breakup, who has dreamt with me about my passions, who will stand by me at my wedding someday- they were all there for me at one moment or another this last week. 

I believe that as long as we’re here on this earth, we’ll be longing. Longing in a way that will never be fully satisfied until we’re home in heaven. But I believe that God gives us community and friendships to satisfy some of that longing in the meantime. To blanket us with the love of others who share that same longing so we can experience it together. And I believe that all these precious encounters with friends this week was God’s way of revealing his heart for me. 

I’m so thankful that strength isn’t something I have to do alone, and that I have such a beautiful community of people that are on my team. They remind me what an honor it is to walk through life with people who love you where you are. Who you don’t have to perform for or pretend to . Who aren’t burdened when I’m honest about where I really am. Who sit with me in pain and listen again and again. They hold me accountable to make wise decisions. They're honest even when it isn’t easy for me to hear. They are friends that deliver everything with love. 

So thank you to the countless people that have been on my team- whether you’ve simply sat in the stands cheering or fought hard through every inning with me- never taking a break. Thank you for showing up and loving hard. I’m a stronger person because of all of you. 

"I believe friendship is God’s greatest evidence of himself here on earth… I believe everyone needs a home team: a go-to, show-up, middle of the night, come-in-without-knocking tribe that gets us through when things fall apart… I believe in circling the wagons—gathering your people around you to tell you the truth when all the voices out there are shouting bad news."

-Shauna Niequest

stronger

Strength is a subject that’s been running through my mind lately. It’s one that has many layers and interpretations. So many, I’d argue, that I can’t sum up into a singular blog post. So over the next few weeks, we’ll be talking about what strength looks like in a lot of various ways. But for today, let's start with the basics. 

I’ve spoken openly about the fact that I walked into a season of grief a few months ago. Since my mind was overworked trying to process things the way a garbage disposal would look trying to process an all-you-can-eat buffet,  I didn’t always remember to do a lot of normal, everyday things. So I did the best I could to get by.

I remember everyone stressing how important it was to give myself grace.  To do whatever I wanted. “If you want to stay in yoga pants all day, stay in yoga pants all day. If you want to watch reruns or eat ice cream for dinner or get your nails done… you just do whatever you need to get through one day at a time.” I really wrestled with the idea of "doing whatever I want". I saw it as playing the victim card or finding excuses to spoil myself. Until I realized that their words had legitimacy. That binge eating chips and guacamole or spending a small fortune on smoothies everyday was sometimes the only way I could guarantee I’d eat anything at all. That spending the night with friends that fed me melatonin and talked me to sleep was sometimes the only way I’d get any sleep. Doing all this - though it may seem so on another day, wasn't an act of frivolity. It was an act of necessity.  

I had a laundry list of friends who invited me to stay with them each night- which I now realize was deeper than emotional support. I needed a baby sitter. I needed someone point out the seemingly obvious things I was neglecting to do.

"Eat this. I can hear your stomach growling."

"Don't forget to turn the curling iron off."

"Your phone? Whit, sweetie- it's in your hand."

One week into everything, I was already afraid of the weeks and months down the road when life went back to normal for everyone else. I couldn’t wrap my head around not having this level of support all of the time. I was convinced I was going to burn my house down or drive off the wrong side of the road, or try to dry my hair with the toaster. I wanted to crawl up in a little ball under my down comforter and fall asleep and not wake up until everything went away. I was too overwhelmed to eat or sleep. I felt physically weak- lightheaded, tired and exhausted. 

Maybe you think this sounds dramatic. And sure, it's easy to think someone is over-reacting or stuck when you're simply observing. Grief is funny that way. Until it happens to you.  Because when grief happens to you, you realize that it makes you feel small. It doesn't leave you alone. It tells you that you’re weak and pathetic, and rubs the pain in your face. I was angry at myself for feeling this way, and I was beginning to worry I wouldn’t ever feel strong again.   

But then I did. And it didn’t take me months. It didn’t even take me that many weeks. Soon, I was ready for MY bed. For some room to breathe. I was tired of talking about it all the time. I wanted to start taking some steps forward. The grief was still there, it’s just that my resilience started to show up. I started eating solid food again. I started sleeping more. I slowly started writing the story of my new normal. 

After a few weeks, I went to my personal trainer again for the first time in months (I had been slacking even before the grief came along). I knew I had lost some muscle because of everything, but I didn’t realize how much. He scolded me, told me I had lost weight and had a lot of catching up to do to get back on track. 

I was pissed off. I was mad that grief had robbed me of my physical strength. But I realized that while it may have done so to my exterior self, the grief was showing my internal self she was tougher than I ever gave her credit to be. Was I still hurting? Obviously. Was I still sad? You know it. Did I still need my support system regularly? 100% (and I still do today). But I realized that I wasn't the weak little girl whose brain permanently stopped working and who became stuck in hopelessness. I was the girl who was strong. 

I was the girl who could squash the she-devil voice in my head that tried to tell me I should be happy I was getting thinner and thinner. That said "But if you keep this up, you'll weight even LESS." I was the girl who was channeling my pain and trying things I had been putting off (like finally booking that trip to Paris I've always talked about.) I was the girl who was looking to God to meet my needs according to the riches of His glory. 

These days, I'm eating 3 meals again (and snacks… and usually dessert). I’ve been lifting weights. I’ve been gaining muscle mass. The number on the scale is climbing again, but so is my physical strength. I’m starting to relate more physically to how I’m feeling emotionally. 

It is true, what they say: what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. I know my journey isn’t over. I know I’ve had moments of relapse and weakness. But it is without question I’m progressively getting stronger. Every. Single. Day.  I know that I’m not done having seasons that feel like they’re killing me slowly and painfully, but what I do know is that I will get through them- just like I'm getting through this one. And I fully intend on beating the $#!% out of them. 

A special thanks to Lululemon for featuring Blonde Atlas in this week’s product email! I had a blast shooting with Sarah Catherine Design.

Travel Lightly

Don't let the title fool you. This is not a how-to on packing lightly. A tutorial on what to bring on your travels to make sure you are prepared and looking good. I am a a self proclaimed over-packer. Pretty much every time I travel. I am not one of those that brings strategically planned outfits, just the essentials. Whether it is a weekend long trip or a two week long trip, I make sure I have options. 

I am talking about the kind of "traveling lightly" that gives way to being present and aware of the tiny moments that happen. The kind that lets you create an agenda but still keeps you open to adventure. For all the "you never know what may happen," and "you only live once," moments that unfold 4,000 miles away from your comfort zone. Traveling as if time is your greatest luxury and your greatest teacher. 

Here are 4 things I learned about traveling lightly on my recent trip to Iceland:

1. Let Go & Lean In.  

After hours spent on the internet, my friend Danica and I had completed our dream itinerary for our trip to Iceland. I printed extra copies in case we misplaced them and we were ready to conquer our 10 day adventure through the country, via the "Ring Road."  That is until we were warned half way through, in the tiny town of Husavik, to turn around due to dangerous weather. It's not exactly what you want to be told when you are in the middle of nowhere, with no cell service, and roads that are so desolate you think you might never see civilization again. But we took the advice of the locals and turned our car around back to Reykjavik. We had no reservations or plans, this was not in our itinerary. We didn't factor in "possible bad weather" options. 

Not knowing what the next moment holds and opening yourself up to the possibilities, this is where stories are made. We had no other option than to let go, to turn around. To open our hands to God and trust that His agenda was better than ours -- and will always be better than ours. That when we let go of what we think we want, what we think we need, it gives us space to lean in to what He wants for us. Instead of resisting the change in plans, we embraced it, and asked God to show us His plans. I can say I didn't have one thought of FOMO (fear of missing out) because I knew that this was exactly what He planned for us all along. And it took us having to let go -- to create space for God to show up in bigger ways than we ever could have imagined.

“The practice of giving thanks...eucharisteo...this is the way we practice the presence of God, stay present to His presence, and it is always a practice of the eyes. We don't have to change what we see. Only the way we see.”  Ann Voskamp 

2. Ask For Grace.

We all have odd habits. The kinds that make us unique. The kinds that come out when you spend 14 days straight with the same person and you have all the time in the world to notice their peculiar tendencies.

I have learned to start off my travels with asking for grace, knowing I will need a lot of it. Because just as I notice the odd and corky behaviors in the person I am traveling with, I know I have them as well. Like how I rise early but I don't like to talk until later in the morning. I wash my hands too much and I am a picky eater. Danica will walk restaurant to restaurant with me until we find a place I can finally find something to eat. She knows I get anxious in overly crowded spaces and takes the wheel, literally, when I have a anxiety attack in the middle of a tunnel. 

When you are traveling with friends, you are cultivating a bond through an experience only you both will understand.  It's a camaraderie. All the glamorous moments you share with your friends via social media don't encompass the countless ones you spend throughout the day that are not so glamorous. And it's in those sacred, shared moments of grace that you deepen your understanding of one another.

3. Eat Your Dessert.

Anyone who knows me, knows I love cookies. And Iceland had no shortage of freshly baked, heavenly cookies. In fact my favorite little cafe we frequented in Reykjavik was called "C is for Cookie." Ironic? I think not. 

I have learned that traveling isn't the time to say no to cookies, or cake, or scones. It is a time to embrace the culture and with that means experiencing the cuisine. When I am at home in Nashville, I have so many rules for myself. Lists of what I think I should be doing or eating and when. But every time I travel I am reminded of the simplicity of food. Maybe it is because sometimes I walk 45 minutes to find a place to eat or maybe it connects me to the people that prepared it. All I know is that my time in Iceland was different. I have travelled to quite a few places and along the way tasted so many delicious things but secretly I never actually got to enjoy them. My head was still consumed by what I thought I should and should not be eating.

This time, I didn't want to waste my energy, my hard earned vacation hours on anything but simply being in gratitude. Gratitude for a body that is healthy and able. The fact that I get a choice in what I eat and when is a gift in itself. So I chose to enjoy myself. I chose to nourish my body and indulge in dessert. Life is too short to say no to cookies. Always eat dessert.

4. Choose the Best Seat. 

I walked on to a bus full of people. We were headed to the south of Iceland on a tour along the coast to Vik. I stepped on the bus and saw only a couple empty seats. The only two that were next to each other were in the last row and as if I didn't sound appealing enough earlier, I also get car sick, so that was not an option. Just as I was about to turn around, to Danica, to motion what to do next I spotted an empty seat. With a not so bad looking guy sitting alone. Before I could even think about it I walked straight towards him, said hello and politely asked if I could join. He looked at me with his blue eyes and said in his adorable French accent, "of course." Cue cheesy chick flick music because I just about melted. 

I spent the day exploring beautiful black sand beaches, waterfalls with rainbows, glaciers,museums and all with the boy and his broken english. I learned a little French that day too. Okay, really I just learned how to say "I'm hungry" and "goodnight," but it felt like a good start. It was magical in every sense. But what stuck with me most was our ability to cross cultures, connect, and a cultivate a friendship so quickly. I believe travel quickly breaks down walls and barriers that might otherwise exist. There is a commonality that is found in seeking something new, with someone new. 

I could have written fifty other stories that day with who I chose to sit next to. It just so happens I chose the best seat on the bus that day. And from it a really fun and magical story was written with someone I still keep in touch with. I've learned that if you want to live out great adventures you have to put yourself in situations to experience them. So next time you step onto a bus -- find an empty seat -- next to a cute boy -- and say hello.

(side note: if you're wondering, yes, my friend does win best wing-woman of the year.)

So, what kind of stories will you write on your next adventure? My hope for you is that they are a beautiful, light, uninhibited reflection of a gracious and free spirit.