by Joey | Jun 15, 2017 | Advice
I joined a gym to start doing yoga. Last week, on my birthday actually. I’m not really sure where the desire came from–but it hung around long enough that I decided to take action. I’ll be honest and say embarrassment is what was holding me back. I remember feeling the same when I was battling the idea of starting to run.
My first few times out, I felt so visible. Like everyone was watching me struggle and passing judgment. And that feeling was almost strong enough to keep me from trying in the first place. But I had to keep making the choice to show up amidst struggle and embarrassment.
I went to a yoga class on Monday and had my ass handed to me. I have no idea what a chaturanga is but they kept asking me to do it. And worse, the people around me weren’t just able to remember all the steps–they were actually hitting them. I, on the other hand, was a squeaky, sweaty, toppling mess. I swear it was like a scene from a movie. That would be the montage until finally, at the end, it would come into real time and show me thriving.
But the thing is–life isn’t a movie montage. You actually have to suffer through the discomfort and keep trying. The time doesn’t get sucked into a vortex to reveal your ending immediately, as much as we wish it would.
I remember thinking when I was pushing through 3 and 4 minute run cycles (and hardly making it) won’t it be cool when I can run a whole mile? I run regularly these days. Usually 2 miles. Sometimes more. I couldn’t do that before.
I guess the point I’m trying to make here is stop accepting your limitations as permanent truths. I did for a really, really long time. But I’m starting to learn–from the business, from writing a book, from challenging myself athletically, if you put the effort in, you can actually do anything.
I’m not saying you’ll be perfect at it. I’m not even saying you’ll do it well. But what the heck! Try anyway!
I lived so much of my life completely unaware that you can actually invent yourself. Instead of accepting the definitions laid upon your shoulders, stand up tall and make yourself into someone you actually like. Because guess what…you can.
And if you’re brand new here–I’m 31. So no, it’s not too late for you to try.
by Joey | Jun 10, 2017 | Advice, Real Life
I love that I have these blog posts. June 2016 was such a huge, pivotal month for me. I quit my job, turned 30, and launched a company. Every single thing in my life was a giant unknown. I was living on hopes and prayers, and a whole lot of faith.
That quote about wishing you would have started today? You know the one?
Yeah, that’s the one. It’s really hard in a regular moment to envision a your life a year from now. Right? I think so. Making a big change is effing scary. But I can vividly remember the moments that lead up to the big decision to try something different.
I was so painfully unhappy a year ago. I was stuck inside decisions that I didn’t feel prepared to make. When you graduate college at 21, you think you’re an adult. You think you’re capable and prepared. I was not capable. I was not prepared.
I immediately moved home. I took a job to take a job. Then I got married, moved away, and introduced impermanence into my life. And before I knew it, I woke up one morning inside a life that just didn’t feel like mine.
I wish I could tell you I felt brave and empowered a year ago. I didn’t. Instead, I felt fed up, scared, and completely unsure. The only thing I was certain of was that I couldn’t keep up the charade. If I had to live the rest of my life like that, what was the point?
I wish I could tell you I knew I’d be sitting here a year later, sipping on a cup of coffee the morning after celebrating my 31st birthday content. But there’s no way. I hoped for it. I had faith that it could happen. But I wasn’t sure. Hell no!
In all honesty, I didn’t even know what I was doing when I quit my job. And truthfully, I don’t recommend quitting your job without a plan (obviously). I had savings, a business in its infancy, and heck of a lot of faith. But I had an exit strategy, too. I just hoped I wouldn’t have to use it.
One year later, I am so so thankful I started “today.”
It’s a year later. My business is growing beyond our wildest dreams. My husband and I are starting the hunt for our permanent home. God has introduced people into my life I couldn’t live without.
I am thankful, friends. So, so very thankful. Whatever it is that you want? Go for it. It’ll be worth it. And if you fall flat on your face? (You might, a couple times. I did.) At least you’ll know.
by Joey | Jun 7, 2017 | Real Life
Jonathan and I just recently celebrated our 7 year wedding anniversary. And today is my last day as a 30 year old. Over the weekend, we got to have lunch with my best friend from HS and Jonathan’s best friend from college. (Fun fact, my MOH married his best man.) And it was one of those time warping experiences where you just can’t fathom where the time went.
It’s easy for me to transport back into my high school bedroom, into my 15 year old mind. I promised myself back then I’d never forget what it was like to be a teenager. I felt so misunderstood back then. So unheard. And yet here I am, a full blown adult unable to understand how we got here.
Our friends have son. A whole human child created from just the two of them. And in that conversation, you know, the one where you debate “the what ifs,” we came to an odd conclusion. If Sophia hadn’t invited Kelly to my house one Friday night, much to my dismay, there is so much in our lives that wouldn’t have been. Or, if Jonathan hadn’t stopped that afternoon in the Millbrook parking lot to see if I was okay. A whole human, a whole person wouldn’t exist.
They met because Jonathan and I invited each of them respectively on a spring break trip in 2007. Invited is probably too kind a word. We basically forced them to tag along. It was an amazing trip, packed full of hilarious inside jokes and memories we’ll hold on to forever.
I miss them often. We grew up. Got married. Became adults. But it’s nice to see that no matter how much time passes, how much life passes, some things are always truth.
I don’t know what it is about 7 years, but that feels like a lifetime. When I was a teenager, I immediately assumed people were ancient if they’d been married more than 5 years . I don’t know when we became the adults in the room. So it just goes to show you that the time passes without your consent.
Jonathan and I were listening to a sermon about marriage on the way home last night. The preacher confessed that his first 7 years of marriage were flat out awful. But he goes on to say that there’s something magical in the aftermath. There’s bliss inside the moment when you can look at your spouse and know you’ve made it through to the other side.
Instinctively, Jonathan and I gave each other a high five.
by Joey | May 3, 2017 | Joyful by Design, Real Life
“No thank you” is what I should’ve said.
So, let’s talk about weakness for a minute. It’s played a running theme in my life lately. And I’m curious if that’s true for some of you, too.
There’s nothing I love more than watching bravery in action. It’s awe inspiring and fills me right up with hope and motivation. I love seeing a person overcome their weakness. But in order for that glory-filled moment to happen, we first have to acknowledge weakness.
Maybe you feel weak right now. I do. I feel weak when someone challenges my point of view. Weakness always seems to creep in at the one mile mark in any run. I feel weak when I’m put on the spot. And worst of all, I feel weak in comparison to others.
It multiplies in the I don’t haves. And the can’t dos give it wings. My fear gives weakness a comfortable place to rest.
I go through phases when I laugh in its face. But like anyone else in the world, I have my kryptonite. People pleasing is my poison, and I drink it by the gallon. I make promises to myself, convince myself never again.
But I give in so easily.
I’m not sure if weakness is something you can learn to overcome. But I do believe you can practice your way out the habit. Because honestly? I think it’s our habits that foster weakness, allowing it to breed and paralyze. Changing a habit takes commitment, dedication, strength. Everything at which weakness recoils.
No thank you
They call me after dark, I don’t want no part
My habits, they hold me like a grudge
I promise I won’t budge
This past Sunday, the the student minister led the service. He was charismatic and entertaining and delivered a wonderfully powerful message. Did I mention he has a stutter? No. Because it didn’t matter. He got up there and brought the house down. The stutter reared its ugly head here and there, but he didn’t acknowledge it. He persevered and powered through. AND THAT’S HOW WEAKNESS DIES.
Words only matter if there’s action supporting them. Your weakness eats empty promises for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Don’t feed the weakness.
The first step in overcoming is committing to try. So practice saying no without explanation. Take the mic and speak through the stutter. Sit down and type out the words in your heart. Keep running when your your mind says quit but your heart says go.
And no thank you is how it should’ve gone
I should stay strong.
Bravery looks different for everyone. Whatever weakness it is that you’re battling right now, you can stay strong. Weakness is built to cripple you, a devil’s tool to keep you from your dreams. But I believe in the power of persistence.
We, we fall for that
Wake up, we fall again.
Don’t let your failure stop you. Because you will fail. You may occasionally break the promise you made to yourself. And that’s okay. So what! You’ll do better next time. Take note of weak moments. Dissect and unpack them, because you’ll learn from them.
So I’m weak, and what’s wrong with that?
Weak, AJR
by Joey | Apr 4, 2017 | Devotional Series, Real Life
So you might have noticed I disappeared there for a minute. A month, actually. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything, but it was 100% intentional.
You see, at the start of March I was on the fast track to a breakdown. I was so busy trying to be everything to everyone–a self-inflicted responsibility that was in no way requested of me, that I started drowning.
As a self-diagnosed people-pleaser, the drowning thing happens sometimes. But this time, I saw it happening. I watched the water rising. And instead of kicking my feet harder determined to keep my head above the rising tide, I released the extra weight pulling me down. I gave myself permission to identify my true priorities and let the rest go.
I burdened myself with everyone else’s worries. Making other people’s problems my own is like a special talent of mine. A talent that’ll send me to an early grave. I care about people deeply, and I am painfully empathetic. If you are worried or scared or sad, I will be worried and scared and sad with you, for you. I can’t help it. That doesn’t make me a good person, it makes me crazy.
Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will give rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.
Matthew 11:28-30
I spent the last month connecting with my Life Group, investing in my relationships, and letting myself sit in silence occasionally. Honestly, at the start of the month, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d just sat, eyes closed, dreaming, thinking, planning. No wonder my head felt full and my heart felt tired.
We have this compulsion to do all the things. We’re tempted to take on the problems of the world and make them our own. But in the last month, I realized something so relieving.
It’s not my job to fix everyone else’s problems.
That weight is heavy. Exhausting. Debilitating. An empathetic person to my core, I couldn’t figure out how to stay true to myself without burdening my heart. But as I lost myself in the Word over the month and surrounded myself with the kindest of souls, it hit me.
I can take the problems of the people I love and care about and lift them up to God, laying them at His feet. I am simply a vehicle. It’s not up to me to carry that weight. It does me nor them any good to play the role of a martyr.
God gave me this empathetic heart to be there for people when their souls are hurting. I am the person people call. My texts are full of requests for advice, my thoughts, my opinions. And that makes me so happy. To know that people know they can come to me and find comfort without judgement gives me life. But I was I was doing it all wrong.
So I spent the last month cutting the weight. Instead, I tethered myself to God and let Him do the work so I could focus on using the gifts He’s given me.
I worked on this post little by little through the month of March. And now that we’re into April, I’m ready to publish it. But I wouldn’t feel right without addressing something that happened to me over the last couple of days,
and how my trust in God is the only way I’m coping.
I’ve found myself on the receiving end of unfair treatment due to someone else peddling a story that’s untrue (basically bearing false witness against me). I’ve spent the last 24+ hours navigating through the spectrum of emotions only to continually land on disappointment with a sick feeling in my gut.
I pride myself on the way I treat people. On my work ethic. And on the fact that people can, without a doubt, always trust me because I’m honest and transparent. And in this particular circumstance, none of that seemed to matter.
My only comfort as I start to heal from this is knowing that God knows the truth, and He’s all that matters in the end. I wish I could go into details here; I hate being one of those vague bloggers. But you’ll just have to trust me that the situation is awful, and without my trust in God I wouldn’t be doing too well today. (Not that I’m actually doing all that well, anyway. I am still human.)
All I can do now is to continue to live my life treating people in a way that when someone says something awful about me, those on the receiving end would have no doubts in my character.
I’ve never been in this position before because of the way I build relationships. But in the end, all I can assume is that it’s a blessing in disguise and trust God’s plan that hasn’t been revealed to me yet.
How has God been revealing himself to you lately? I’d love to know.
