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Sweet & Salty: On Joy and Bitterness {ft. a Character Study: Naomi}.

I’ve had better days.

A bit before 2017 rolled around, I wrote a post on how 2017 would be better than 2016. 2016 brought on a lot of pain and suffering in the form of a mental illness {see the “Unashamed” tab}. It brought on a lot of heartache and bitterness as I longed to return to Nash and be loved by my Waco friends.

Then 2017 hit and it has been better — God’s provided me with an amazing, entry-level dream job; He gave me a new church home and provided new, grounded community; lately.

He’s opening up opportunities for me to serve locals on Forest Ln — people I work with, climb with, eat with, drive by, pray for — from all walks of life: every age, race and socioeconomic level {many are impoverished}; and to fully seek healing redemption through Him and Him alone.

He’s given me a core group of women my age and life phase that hold me accountable to discovering His Truths and living them out daily. We call ourselves the “Wine, Whales & Word” tribe. I cannot say where or who I would be without them during this crazy, fun season of life.

Sometimes life is sweet. Sometimes it’s salty.

My TVC Dallas Home Group and I are walking through Ruth. Starting yesterday, we plan to read it all the way through {it’s four chapters long} each week, to deliberately meditate on the scripture, to earnestly analyze characters, culture, Creation and Christ in every word and between every line.

Yesterday we walked through Chapter 1. I believe God is forever, always, eternally sweet, but life can sometimes be salty.

Poor, Sweet Naomi — her husband and two sons all died within a short span of time. She was left a widow without children with two women who were destined to become cultural outcasts unless they remarried soon.

Before their deaths, Naomi was named “Pleasant.” She experienced the pleasure of loving and following God, of living a life under His provision and guidance. But after their deaths, she changed her name to Mara, which directly translates to “Bitterness.”

I think bitterness is a valid emotion — when people wrong me, I become bitter. Today was a very bitter day: my pants broke, my stomach hurt, employees related to my work {not people I work with} were being unkind, impatient and downright rude, my back started to physically ache from the anxiety and stress.

Joy is also a valid emotion — as Believers, we are equipped with eternal joy when we accept the Holy Spirit’s dwelling in us. We are called to a joy that never ceases, to thanksgiving in all circumstances {1 Thess. 4:16-18}.

Joy partners with seven other Fruit of the Spirit — please note: it’s only one fruit, this means the Fruit of the Spirit is one entity, embodying seven traits {Gal. 5:22-23}. It does not stand alone, it must work alongside love and peace {they are the three foremost fruit that truly marry each other in union}.

As people, we choose to be sweet or salty. We get to decide.

Today, I was salty. I slightly snapped at my poor work husband Cedric when he playfully teased me as he always does. I decided to be bitter to dwell in anger and regret and contempt. My day was awful to me, so I wanted to be awful in return.

Sweet Penny from Downtown Fort Worth Sheraton chose to be sweet. She reached out in hopes that our firm would give them business. Sweet Penny delivered a Tiff’s Treats package to me: cookies, ice cream, milk.

These three things will always brighten my day. But snail mail in particular really gets me going. It really makes me grateful for the sender’s intentionality and genuine pursuit of my gratitude and love. It takes more work to call a company, ask for a delivery, pay for a package, than it does to text me, “Hope you’re doing well.”

Sweet Penny gave me faith in humanity again. She made me feel “Pleasant,” just like Naomi felt pleasure before her trials. She reminded me there are kind, patient, good people in this world who love to serve, share and give.

It is not up to me to decide if we give Sweet Penny and the Sheraton business, and Sweet Penny knows that. But she chose to send me some love anyway, to brighten my day just because she can, and just because she had the opportunity to.

I want to be Naomi.

I like to choose pleasure, I like to choose joy. I will choose bitterness and contempt on off days, I will experience down moments and unkind souls and humans who test my patience and my ability to love and be loved.

But I want to be Naomi — I want to experience God’s goodness, promise, provision. I want to taste and see — figurative cookies, ice cream, milk — literal joyful moments, people, places — that God is eternally sweet to me and sweet to everyone He loves.

Who are you today? Who do you want to be? And how can you become that person? Stay tuned for a later character study on Ruth, Boaz and Mara. Stay tuned for a post on how to overcome bitterness and bask in eternal joy.



For the record, I have zero regrets for using that pun.

*S/o to SJ, MCD, AML, RDLC and a couple of new faces eager to join us soon.

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Waiting on God 101.

I know how to wait.

Or at least, I think I do — most of the time. I’m used to waiting on men, waiting on change, waiting on flights, waiting on food, waiting on traffic lights, waiting on lines.

But waiting on God? For some reason, that’s harder for me to tackle. Maybe because I can’t physically see or audibly hear Him.

Maybe because some days it’s hard to picture Him as more than a figment of my imagination. Maybe because I’m often too stubborn to remember He manifested himself in Christ, lives through the Spirit in me and works for my good every day.

Waiting is the worst.

Sometimes, I pray for patience. But then I learn the process to obtain patience entails waiting, so I usually take it back — can you take prayers back? Like unkind words or jeans that don’t fit?

Waiting is always uncertain — it can last hours, days, weeks, months, years. At times, waiting periods may pass in the blink of an eye. But others may not be so quick, they are painful and arduous and test every ounce of perseverance within me.

I’ve spent my lifetime waiting.

Not in this lazy, complacent way where I just sit and wait for good things to happen. Not in this overbearing, manic way where I run fast and chase after good things.

Somewhere in the middle, where I find peace in the present and satisfaction through productivity.

I’ve waited for my guy to come, I’ve waited for my medication to work, I’ve waited for a job, for a place to call home, for a friendship, for a degree. I’ve waited for short periods and long stretches. I’ve waited for the world to change (as my man John Mayer sings).

Here are my tips on waiting:

  1. Gain perspective. Think of why you are waiting, and what for. Think of how to use your time and resources wisely. How can you spend your energy? Who can help you in this waiting period?
  2. Pray. A lot. We are called to “present our requests” to God with “prayer and petition.” I think of a dorky petition I signed in middle school to allow gum chewing on campus. God probably has bigger fish to fry than gum privileges, but perhaps He wants us to approach in the same manner — with a plan, with support, with tenacity.
  3. Remember hope. It is with the Hope of the Lord that we truly survive, and more importantly thrive, during our waiting periods. We cannot do this alone, not without the support of friends & family, and surely not without God on our side.
  4. Weep. The older and hopefully wiser I become, the more likely I am to weep, to truly mourn for my hurts and heartaches, and for those around me. When I miss something or someone, when I beg God to deliver me, I often curl up in my bed or fall to my knees. I cry out to God, because He promises to hear our cries.

There are so many ingredients to waiting contently, waiting patiently, waiting in a strong and respectful manner. All of my suggestions come from the God-breathed Scripture, the gift that is His word. I would get nowhere without it.

Friends who are waiting, be encouraged by this: you are never alone. We wait for good news. We wait for good friends. We wait for better days.

When we wait on God, we will not be disappointed. When we wait for Him, He will reward us here on earth, and permanently in Heaven. When we wait, we grow.

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Unashamed: When April Showers Don’t Bring Mae Flowers.

They’re supposed to bring May flowers.

April has come and gone — and for the most part, so has the rain — the Dallas Arboretum proves the flowers are upon us — but what if life’s metaphorical flowers, aren’t?

I haven’t been majorly depressed since December — BLESS UP. It’s been a whole new year of adventure and excitement and radiance that I rarely tasted in 2016. The amount of gratitude toward my parents, friends, doctors, therapists and The King has overwhelmed me.

But I think I’m regressing — lately I’ve experienced heavier and lower days. It hurts, as I started a dream job just a couple of weeks ago, and so desperately want to thrive there. I seek out medical, emotional help partnered with a holistic approach to mental health.

Sometimes the flowers don’t sprout.

We go through periods of absolute suffering and pain, we cry out to God for relief, but it seems as if the hope and joy never come upon us. It seems as though we are forgotten and abandoned and He doesn’t live up to His promise to “work for our good.”

Lately I’ve been eating up Isaiah. This morning, I walked through ch. 30. It talks about rebellious people who “speak to us smooth things.” They want an easy way out, they want smooth sailing.

Yet, those people are like breaking “that of a potter’s vessel that is smashed so ruthlessly that among its fragments not a shard is found.”

We are Christ’s vessels — we are called to be filled with the Spirit and pour out radical love onto those around us. So how do we refuse to rebel and cling to God’s goodness?

We remember that He will be gracious. He hears the sound of our cries, he answers us. The “bread of adversity” and “water of affliction” make us see our Teacher.

Bread and water are necessities — I’d prefer to live without adversity and affliction. I’d prefer to sail calm waters without blasting winds and pelting rain. I’d prefer to not be bipolar, to not give too much of myself away, to not suffer from anxiety over tomorrow’s.

But He “binds up the brokenness of His people.”

He sees our hurt. He hears our cries. He sits with us. He cradles us. He listens. He weeps. He protects. He provides. He delivers.

He will not leave us alone. He will not let us suffer without Him, His presence, His grace. He will not abandon or forsake or condemn us if we walk in Spirit and in Truth.

He says, “You will not suffer forever. I will stitch you back together. I am yours, you are Mine. We will fight this. We will win. And I will overcome.”

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In the Darkest Moments: On Peace That Transcends.

Sometimes, bad things happen to good people.

Long before I was diagnosed, I saw the pain and hurt of my friends and family. Divorce, deaths, diagnoses tore them apart from the inside-out. It ripped their hearts into pieces and they dove into depression or became addicted to whatever vice to briefly fix their pain.

Sometimes, bad things happen to me.

Sophomore fall was my hardest semester of college. I suffered from betrayal of those who were close to me, I became bitter and distraught. My life felt desolate and isolated.

I wandered in my own desert, longing for Christ’s eternal water to quench my thirst.

My diagnosis last year tore my world apart. I honestly thought I peaked in college and that I would never be able to work, function or love again. I feared that my life would amount to nothing and I’d be stuck in a constant cycle of major depression and minimal joy.

But during even the lowest of lows, I remembered core truths:

  1. God works for my good.
  2. God loves me.
  3. God never changes.

When my world shatters, I get down on my knees.

One of my very favorite Bible verses is Philippians 4:7. This is how it goes:

Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus (NLT).

It’s hard for me to pray when I’m hurt. My instinct is to get mad at God, to put on my gloves and smack a bag and scream until I weep. I feel forgotten and used and trapped.

It’s easy for me to pray when I’m whole. I’m madly in love with my God and my friends. I feel joyful and independent and confident.

But God pursues us when we’re both: when we’re black and blue, and when we’re silver and gold. He seeks us out with his never changing grace and mercy. He scoops us up in His strong, brave arms.  He says, “You are allowed to feel, just know that you are always mine.”

Lately, I’ve been overwhelmed with peace.

I’m in a strange period of life: ending a PR internship, seeking something more. I’m open to new opportunities near and far, similar and unfamiliar.

I’m ready to dive headfirst into my next adventure, because I just know God’s cooking up something good.

I experienced the deepest heartbreak in 2016, but God’s brought so much healing in 2017. In the most painful moments when I doubted, He met me while I was curled up in bed in a puddle of my own tears.

He said, “There, there, dear daughter. Let me stitch you together with my love.”

When you are down and when nothing seems right, when you’re right in the eye of the storm, remember: God works for your good. God loves you. God never changes.

You can be angry, you probably have a right to be so. You can be sad, you probably have a right to be so. But you can also rejoice, because in the hardest moments, God’s already ahead of you, prepped to heal you, ready to make you whole.

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My Mom Told Me to Wait for Marriage, But I’m Done With That.


not my virginity, i’m talking about my life!

I’ve never been particularly good at waiting (Exhibit A of why singleness is good for me). I’ve always been especially hasty to make decisions and impulsively act. That’s how many of my travel adventures began: in the blink of an eye, with a quick thought, at the swipe of a card.

So when I envision myself waiting for marriage, I see a mopey Maelyn benched on the sidelines of a super exciting, buzzer beater game. The stands are full. Crowds cheer. Feet stomp. The ball thumps. The net swishes.

I cannot just sit and watch. I cannot be an idle observer. I have to be there, in the middle of the court, ball-in-hand. I have to feel my own heart leap out of my chest with every step, every second counted down on the clock. I have to make snap decisions and stay alert and wipe the sweat off the back of my neck.

I’m done with waiting, but i’m not done with growing.

I’m not done with learning from my mistakes, heartbreaks, wins, triumphs. I’m not done with taking notes about who I am and who I’ve been and who I want to be. I’m not done with falling flat on my face, knees to my chest, crying out to Jesus to rejoice and to weep.

Before I meet my man, I’d like to grow. A lot. When I meet my man, I want to say, “I make more than Ramen.” I’d like to declare, “I’ve put a dent in my bucket list, but I’m ready for your help.” I’d like to admit, “I’ve missed you a lot. But I’ve been busy while you’ve been gone.”

i don’t know his name, but i pray for him often.

My man has a lot to put up with: a lot of sass, a lot of obnoxious laughs, a lot of silly arguments that don’t actually matter (no, a burrito is not a sandwich). And since I’ve never met him yet, I can pray that he grows and learns, too.

I pray he can say, “I can make you the coffee rack you’ve always wanted.” And, “I vow to never hug you right after I work out.” I hope he can declare, “I’ve been chasing Jesus, and I can’t wait to chase him with you.”

It might not be 2017, or 2018, or even 2019. But when we’re face-to-face, I’m going to shriek and giggle and jump and do a cartwheel because that man is already my very best friend in this whole wide world!!! And I cannot wait to meet him.

Bearing my Cross · Body. · Life Written. · Mind. · Post-Grad. · Sojourn. · spirit · The Word · Unashamed.

I’m on a Bike {On Journeying with God}.


Lately, Pops and I took up biking.

Our family’s been in a bit of a health kick. With my diagnosis and our recent membership at Gold’s Gym, we’ve been focusing on eating well and exercising often.

Our family friend owns Plano Cycling & Fitness, a great bike shop nearby. So Pops and I found two starter road bikes to whoop our booties into shape.

Biking is fun!

I forgot how much I love to bike. Biking brings back every childhood memory of summers and freedom and feeling like I can fly.

Biking isn’t like running. It doesn’t hurt my knees as much, and I can go way farther in much less time.

To me, to run is about the escape.

To bike is about the journey.

When I ride with Pops, sometimes he leads and sometimes he follows. Most times, he lets me set the pace, and I happily trailblaze.

But sometimes he gets out of view, I lose him. I’m not afraid, but I’m lonely, and I pedal pedal pedal to catch up.

Pops reminds me of God on these rides.

Many times, God lets me lead the way. He’s blessed me with free will to do as I please, and choose where I go.

But other times, I’m too weak and exhausted to blaze my own trail. I need His guidance to lead the way.

And yet even other times, I am far behind, and I can’t see what He’s doing. I need to trust that He’s there, He’s there. He is good and He is way far ahead, and He’s making a way for me.

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I was in a wreck, but I’m OK {On Life’s Timing}.


Some jerk rammed into my RAV4, Glinda.

Not once, but twice. Then he drove away.

Thankfully, the passengers of the car I subsequently hit, and I, were not harmed. Glinda’s a bit banged up, and their car isn’t too shabby. We were able to safely walk away.

Earlier today, my friend Brittany reminded me:

Yet God has made everything beautiful for its own time. He has planted eternity in the human heart, but even so, people cannot see the whole scope of God’s work from beginning to end. -Ecclesiastes 3:11, NLT

The following verses say:

  • “So I concluded there is nothing better than to be happy and enjoy ourselves as long as we can.
  • And people should eat and drink and enjoy the fruits of their labor, for these are gifts from God.”

It’s not always easy to be happy.

A death, job loss, a diagnosis, a betrayal, or a car accident stand in the way for giddiness to enter in.

I don’t always enjoy myself. My impatience is tested the second I hit Dallas traffic, or the moment I encounter a long Starbucks line.

In fact, I can experience the opposite of joy: I become bitter, or broken, angry, or depressed.

But there is a season for everything.

Ecclesiastes 3:1 says, For everything there is a season, a time for every activity under heaven.

Verses 5-7 list such activities:

  • To scatter stones and gather stones
  • To embrace and to turn away
  • To search and quit searching
  • A time to keep and a time to throw away
  • To tear and to mend
  • To be quiet and to speak

It’s my time. It’s my turn.

scatter my plans, and gather new hopes. I embrace new friends, and turn away from old, weary ways that never worked.

I search for answers found in the Truth of the Gospel, and I’ve stopped searching for them on earth.

It’s time to keep track of these wonder-filled days. Sometimes I throw time away: I grab coffee with friends, spend afternoons out on the lake, and sit and breathe for a while…but even the time I throw away is never wasteful.

I tear apart my identity, and mend the seams together, finding it at the foot of the cross.

It’s time to shut my mouth, and stop pretending like I know it all.

It’s time to be quiet and listen to what God’s speaking to me.

And once I’m done listening, it’s time to shout from the mountains the lessons I’ve learned, and things I’ve come to know.