trust the process.

Trust the process.

If I’ve heard that phrase once this year, I’ve heard it 100 times. I might need to capitalize on that actually? Maybe this is the time to finally write that book. ;)

This year has been the hardest year of my entire life, no questions asked. Some of the hardness came from my own decisions and actions, some did not. 

I started this year with a goal to get healthy. Not to try to look hot or be super skinny or try out for Victoria’s Secret but to be healthy. I started off super solid, probably far too extreme, but still was solid. I’m still extremely committed and working hard (or trying to!) every day to teach my "goal" by the end of the year. I did it on my own for a while, then did a fad cleanse and most recently joined Iron Tribe. And, what is the most annoying, is that it’s the most expensive and the most time consuming and the hardest but it’s also what has brought me the most community and the most results (literally typing this at half speed because my arms are so dead from, ironically, dead lifting). Shout out to Iron Tribe Belmont-you should all try it. But, one thing I’ve continued to be reminded of is this-trust the process. 

I want to be married and have a cute family (hello, the Christmas cards my family will have!). I tried to lower my standards and see if I could "change" or "save" a guy. Worst mistake ever. It’s not my job to save a guy. At all. I thought if I was the "good" one in the relationship then he would be influenced to be good like me, too. That’s not how it’s going to work. So, then I decided to work on me more. God will allow me to meet the right guy at the right time. One of my small group leaders literally texted me after we had lunch one day, "don’t worry! your Prince Charming is looking for you, too. Just trust the process!" Here we are. Still working on me. Still waiting on Mr. Right. And, it’s hard. It’s time consuming. But, I’ve seen more personal growth in the last 4 weeks vs the last 11 months by truly focusing on bettering me. 

My mom got sick. She got very sick, very fast. It wasn’t something any of us were prepared for or expecting or planning for. It was bronchitis one day to hard attack within a week. The day my dad called me is a day I never, ever want to relive again. I’m still honestly not even sure how I made it home that night. I sometimes joke to my parents that I hope I die first because I can’t live life without them. Or maybe Jesus could just come back first. I’d be okay with that, too. So, when your perfectly healthy mama is laying in a hospital bed and the initial options were something along the lines of "you need a heart transplant," I never wanted Jesus to come back sooner. Five minutes felt like five days. I immediately started begging. I’ve prayed my entire life. I’ve believed my prayers. I’ve had faith God would do a multitude of requests. But, when it came to mama, I hit the floor begging God. I have never begged for anything more in my entire life. The Friday night after the initial results came back, I was reading Jesus Calling for that day. The last line said "Even in the midst of the biggest storm of your life, cling to the promises Jesus taught us. Trust the process." That gave me chills. It stopped me in my tracks. My mindset immediately shifted from "crying my eyes out because I didn’t think my mama was going to make it" to "righteously begging Jesus to heal her in a way only He could." 

It was basically unspoken but the next day on the way to the hospital, Lauren and I were listening to worship music. "Do It Again" quickly became our anthem. 

-I’ve seen you move the mountain and I believe, I’ll see you do it again.

That was it. That was the anthem. That was the prayer. Only God could pull this one off. I could always run another mile on a treadmill. I could always go out with another guy. But, heart failure? Only God could touch that mountain and move it.

We begged. We prayed. We sang. We cried. We grew as a family. We learned more from each other in the past few weeks and grew more as a family than I dare say we have in years. I wish it didn’t take mama’s heart getting sick for me to learn this, but it did. Day by day, more good news came. It went from "there’s nothing we can do" to "possible heart transplant" to "maybe medicine will prolong your life for a little while" to "possibly surgery but very risky" to "surgery is possible but more than likely 5 bypass" to "okay, bypass it is, and only 3 bypass." 

It went from "probably in the hospital for a few weeks" to "more than likely going to need dialysis for the rest of your life" to "good chance temporarily needing dialysis" to "wow, that surgery went amazing and it’s only been 3 hours instead of 5 and her heart is doing amazing and I’m so pleased."

It went from "she won’t remember any of this" to "she’ll be on the ventilator for most of the first day" and "she’ll need to balloon pump for 24 hours" to "she remembers everything" and "ventilator came out 12 hours post op and so did the balloon pump." 

There’s a lot in between all of those, of course, but there’s something God is literally shoving down my throat. Trust the process.

We can plan. We can prepare. We can hope. We can have faith. And, we should do ALL of that. But, when a situation that needs mercy and healing SO big that only God can do it, then ONLY God can get credit. 

I’ve hit a whole new relationship with God these past few weeks. When I’ve felt mentally and physically my strongest, I’ve been reminded that spiritually I wasn’t hitting the gym like I should. I’ve held on to more promises this past month than I have the past year. I’ve hit new levels with my own friends and family. I’ve became 100% dependent on the process God had for us. And let me tell you, what a scary and down right vulnerable place to be. But, there’s beauty in all of that. Because trusting in a process means we can’t do it alone. It means that we are weak but that’s exactly where God shines, in our weakness. In our trials and in our sickness, that’s where God picks us up and reminds us it’s a process. And we have to trust that. 

Mama has a rough few months ahead of her. Nothing about recovering from this is going to be easy. At the same time, I have a long way to go to complete my fitness goals. I probably have an even longer road to go before God lets me meet my husband. But, I’m okay with all of that. I’m held in the palm of the hand of the same God who breathed and created life. I’m covered by the same God who created the earth. Isn’t that enough? Isn’t that comforting and amazing and beautiful? That in our weakest moments, God gets the most glory. That god sized problems can only be made right by God himself? 

I don’t have all the answers. At all. And sometimes fear and doubt still creep in. But, I’m learning to trust the process. God has moved mountains before and he’ll do it again. It’s my prayer that through my own trials or trials of your own, you cling to the promise of the process. I pray that you meet God at times and places you never thought you would have to. I pray you recognize the god sized problems in your own life and you run to the God with all the answers. ❤️

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