a girl, a heart

sin is not my master

noreply@blogger.com (Melanie) — Fri, 26 Apr 2013 14:00:00 +0000

For sin shall no longer be your master, because you are not under the law, but under grace.
That verse, Romans 6:14, popped into my mind this week. It was Wednesday, and I was running on the treadmill — no, sprinting — and thinking about the past month. It's been a hard month, a month full of slipups and setbacks. I've been allowing my weakness to define me, all the while living underneath the fear of the next binge.
Somewhere between my first and second mile, the truth of that verse hit me like a ton of bricks: Sin shall no longer be my master.
I hit the "stop" button and breathlessly started typing a note in my iPhone as quickly as I could:
"Sin is NOT my master. I am not defined by my sin. Sin is gone, taken away. I need to live as a new creation. NEWSFLASH: I have other struggles. I'm sick of people looking at me around food, wondering if I'm okay. This is my struggle, but it is not my identity. Must stop living under the fear of the next possible trigger. Be others-oriented, forget about me, get outside of my mind, recognize the big picture. I'm here on earth for a short time. I have one mission: Tell everyone I know about freedom in Christ and the new life He gives. One goal, one life. No wiggle room for a sin struggle. If I hear that word one more time, I might barf. It has chains on it, chains that say I'm never finding freedom. I HAVE freedom. Look at what I have. Why aren't I living in that newness of life?"
The caps make it look angry. I wasn't angry; I was brimming with fervor for the first time in a long time. Suddenly, I had clarity. I've been completely obsessed with myself for much of this semester, trying stop thinking about food, then falling prey to old habits over and over again. It's a sickening cycle, one that puts me in bondage. It is exactly what Satan wants for me.
I think he also wants me to define myself by this flaw. I meant what I said about the term "sin struggle." What a bullshit word. And "thorn," too. These words slap an identity on me: "sinner."
Satan loves that.
This is the truth: I will still sin, but I am not longer under that law anymore — I am under grace. I'm not a sinner, and I'm not a binge eater.
I'm a child of God, a new creation, and I am free.

under attack

noreply@blogger.com (Melanie) — Sun, 21 Apr 2013 13:00:00 +0000

This is exactly how it feels to fight off a binge:

First, there is a thought. It is innocent at first, spoken in a voice resembling my own: Do it. Just indulge. It's okay. You'll feel better.

Almost immediately, I recognize the lie, the lie that is planted in my mind and stuck in my indwelling sin like glue. I fight back: No, no, no, no, I will NOT give in, I will NOT binge. I think about the unavoidable consequences, the bloat, the way I'd feel for days afterwards. Come on, Melanie, you don't need that. Just feel whatever you're feeling. Don't use food to cope.

It's a battle.

I've been fighting this battle for a very long time, and sometimes, I cling to God's truth and we win. Then, there are times when I give in.

Like Thursday night.

For the past few weeks, the lies have been louder than ever. Part of it is still the vulnerability hangover from publishing my series and opening up this chapter of my life to everyone I know. Many people read those articles and concluded that I had conquered this sin. Didn't they read the end? The part when I said I'm still struggling? Hello? Is anybody there?

Mostly, though, I am tired. This thorn in my side does keep me clinging to Christ, but fighting the battle is wearing me down. I'll take another thorn, any thorn, as long as it's not one that revolves around food — food is everywhere and it is integral to daily life. The battle is an everyday battle, and lately, the temptation is unwavering and strong.

This past Thursday, Satan was screaming at me and begging me to binge, to throw it all away, to surrender to food and let it be my god. I gave in. It was raining sideways rain and the temperature was dipping into the forties, but nothing could stop me. I pulled on my rainboots, grabbed some cash and proceeded to go from store to store to buy as many cookies as I could. I'm sure I was a sorry sight on the street that night: a soaking wet, chocolate-smeared, sobbing mess.

Early in the morning, I took a bus home. I missed an end-of-the-year formal, an Illini Life outreach event and one of my last weekends in Champaign. I chose food over friends, a late-night binge over a night of dancing, solitude over community. I gave in.

It's Sunday now. A few days have passed since the meltdown. I am allowing myself to rest and know that I'm forgiven, but there is still a strong sense of frustration. It wasn't this hard in December, in January, in February. Now, the temptation has become a constant, unrelenting attack.

One thing, though, is certain: I want to fight back again. At this very moment, I feel weak, but I also feel more determined than ever. Christ makes me strong, and He will walk me through this deep valley. The battle is grueling and it makes me want to crumble, but I'm not Satan's puppet — I am a daughter of the King, fitted with the armor of Christ.
I'm thinking that might just be enough.

a note from my best friend

noreply@blogger.com (Melanie) — Wed, 17 Apr 2013 17:30:00 +0000

Melanie,

"Do you not know that your bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your bodies.” 1 Corinthians 6:19-20

“Do not love the world or anything in the world. If anyone loves the world, love for the Father is not in them. For everything in the world―the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life―comes not from the Father but from the world.The world and its desires pass away, but whoever does the will of God lives forever.” 1 John 2:15-17

*This is your flesh saying you need to control what you eat. But you don't need to listen to those lies! God's in control if you let him be. The world will soon pass, this body you're in now will soon be gone.

“But our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ, who, by the power that enables him to bring everything under his control, will transform our lowly bodies so that they will be like his glorious body.” Philippians 3:20-21

*Don't worry about your earthly body so much, a body which will soon be gone and be replaced by a new and perfect one.

“Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God―this is your true and proper worship. Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is―his good, pleasing and perfect will.” Romans 12:1-2

*Don't listen to your flesh which thirsts for control and power. Trust God's good and perfect will and you'll find his good and perfect peace too.

“So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God.” 1 Corinthians 10:13

Love,
Courtney

mom's weekend 2013

noreply@blogger.com (Melanie) — Mon, 15 Apr 2013 13:13:00 +0000

mommy and me outside my house // best friends and their moms after SNG with Illini Life

my thorn

noreply@blogger.com (Melanie) — Fri, 12 Apr 2013 13:53:00 +0000

A good friend and I were having dinner together on Tuesday night. Over two burrito bowls, I filled her in on my life — last week, the binging, the fury and frustration and fear. She listened, then offered me her thoughts: "Melanie, this is the thorn in your flesh. Food. But God uses these thorns. His power is made perfect in our weaknesses."
She was referring to 2 Corinthians 12, where Paul writes about his thorn — "a messenger of Satan" — that torments him, dragging him down, stealing pride from his highest points. Three times, Paul begged God to take it away, but God said no: "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."
I can imagine Paul's reaction: Well, shit.
Perhaps that was his first response, or his second. Eventually, Paul found peace in his trials.
"Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong."
There are many times when I wish I could sit down with Paul and ask for a little more guidance. I want, so desperately, to find joy in my weakness — to be thankful for the nasty thorn in my flesh, the one that oftentimes results in a big, bad binge.
When I was in the thick of last week, my dad sent me a text full of words that resonated deeply: "Be strong in the Lord. Two steps forward, one back is okay. I mess up all the time. It is what keeps us dependent on God."
My thorn undoubtedly keeps me running back to Him, over and over and over again. And it's at those moments when I'm soaring, overconfident in myself and forgetful of Christ, when I crash, burn and binge. That is when food comes to haunt me.
But now, after a week of crashing and burning, I am moving on. The thorn is still there — and it might always be — but it doesn't hurt as much. Physically, the pain and bloat has gone away; emotionally, I'm feeling like myself again.
And spiritually, I'm uncovering more about God's grace than ever before.

vulnerability hangover

noreply@blogger.com (Melanie) — Mon, 08 Apr 2013 12:27:00 +0000

A friend of mine recently sent me one of Brené Brown's TED talks. It was about the "vulnerability hangover:" the tough days, the ugly days, the days that come after a person decides to open up.
That's where I'm at right now — emotionally hungover and reeling from the aftermath of my series.
Last week was when everything erupted. My worries and anxieties consumed me, and to deal with the stress, I turned to my familiar fix: binge. Not once, not twice, but three times.
Then, the lies crept in: Melanie, what are you doing? You just wrote an article about how you've moved past this. You're not past this. You're a liar, a hypocrite. You're never getting past this.
Shame.
Today, I'm recovering. I haven't fought food since Friday, and I intend to make this week a healthy one. But my heart still hurts. I'm filled with anger, some for myself and some for others. Beneath that, there is fear. I have absolutely no idea what my summer is going to be like, and the uncertainty of the future is making me sick.
This combination of anger and fear is the perfect recipe for a binge, and I'm fighting harder than ever. Satan knows my weakness. He knows just how to drag me down, further and further, until I'm stuffed to the brim and bawling on the bathroom floor.
Lord, help me to renew my mind this week and remember who I am and who You are.

this easter

noreply@blogger.com (Melanie) — Mon, 01 Apr 2013 03:10:00 +0000

My dad put a little Bible study together for our Easter celebration. We sat around the family room, cousins and aunts and uncles and brothers — and my Jewish gramma — and talked about the meaning of Christ's death, burial and resurrection. For each verse, we switched off reading, and soon my gramma was reading John 11:25-26. "Do you believe this?" she read.

DO YOU?! I wanted to scream, to look into her eyes and beg her to please, please believe it.

I kept quiet.

But something stirred in my gramma's heart during our study. Something that encouraged her to ask questions. And for the first time in a long time, she listened to our answers with intent. I'm thinking it was one of those Easter miracles, and oh, I am thankful for the work of the Holy Spirit.

And if the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead is living in you, he who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies because of his Spirit who lives in you.

Romans 8:1

journalists in nyc

noreply@blogger.com (Melanie) — Sun, 31 Mar 2013 02:56:00 +0000

The past few weeks have been a whirlwind: First, "As a Girl Thinks," then Memphis, then I recouped at home for a few days, and then flew to New York for networking with alumni, interviewing for summer internships and touring newsrooms. There were moments when I felt completely swallowed up by the city, and there were moments when I belonged. I have so much to say and unload about how NYC felt this week, but for now, I'll just post a little photo peek:

studio of Fuse News // Pulitzer wall at the New York Times

College of Media friends // reveling in Times Square

vanilla cupcakes from Magnolia Bakery // a walk through Chelsea Market

memphis

noreply@blogger.com (Melanie) — Wed, 27 Mar 2013 04:01:00 +0000

It's been a few days since I got home from Memphis, a few days for me to reflect and think and figure out why this mission trip wasn't what I wanted it to be.
We left last Sunday. And in the beginning, it was good: hours in a car and much fruitful discussion, new friendships, laughing with Illini Life friends over ice cream at Sonic. I was thankful to be spending my spring break with these great people, these brothers and sisters in Christ.
When Monday came, everything seemed to go downhill. I felt useless and inadequate on our worksite — we were building a new roof on a man named Mr. Walker's house in the Orange Mound neighborhood, and working up high on that roof made me nervous. I spent most of my time on the ground, trying my best to remain positive. As much as I loved bonding with my team, I hated the work. I hated standing in the cold. I hated being there.
And I felt absolutely rotten for feeling like that.
This was a mission trip, after all. We were supposed to be uncomfortable. But more than that, we were supposed to be servants — and I could barely fake it.
Beyond that, my tolerance and patience for others waned. I kept finding myself frustrated, annoyed, pissed off and craving alone time. My heart felt hard.
It just wasn't me.
We drove all the way home this past Friday, and since then, I've been processing. What was up with me? Why didn't I feel spiritually connected? What happened to my zeal?
I wrote a note to my best friends on Sunday, drawing some conclusions:
"One thing I've realized over the past few days: It is okay. It is okay to be at your wit's end. It's fine if we're cranky and tired. Just because I didn't feel exceptionally passionate about people and about the Gospel while on a mission trip doesn't make me bad or wrong or evil. The beauty of Christ is that He lives in us. People often say stuff like 'I want to get closer to God.' A mission trip is a breeding ground for those thoughts. But the fact is, we cannot get any closer to Him than we already are. We're sealed with the Holy Spirit — there's no escaping Him. I used to think mission trips got me closer to God. But I think it took me until last semester to really understand that there is no such thing as 'closer.' He lives in me. That's that. So I'm okay with the fact that I didn't get the mission trip high that I used to get on all those CCOB trips. I am letting myself off the hook, because that's how grace works. Christ lives in me, He lived in me last week in Memphis, and He'll live in me for the rest of my days."

part five: beauty from ashes

noreply@blogger.com (Melanie) — Sat, 16 Mar 2013 03:22:00 +0000

The week is over, and it has been surreal.
Sunday night, the night before my series, I didn't sleep at all. For hours, I stared at the ceiling fan and wondered what might happen. Would people read it? Will they share it? What if they hate it?
Monday came. Then Tuesday. Wednesday, Thursday, and now, Friday.
"As a Girl Thinks" brought in emails, Facebook comments, messages, texts, tweets, and more feedback than I ever expected to receive. One of my tweets earlier this week read: "I am overwhelmed in the very best way possible."
It was so true. And it still is.
This series came together beautifully, and I have so many people to thank for that: my friends, who shared the link online every single day; my editors, who worked tirelessly to make sure the final product was perfect; my parents, who called and congratulated me each morning; my housemates, who constantly encouraged me and poured over the paper in the evenings.
And, of course, my Savior. Because without Him, this story wouldn't be a story at all.

To read through the entire series, click through the tabs at the top of the page:

indepth.dailyillini.com

part one: innocent beginnings

noreply@blogger.com (Melanie) — Tue, 12 Mar 2013 03:54:00 +0000

Follow along with my series this week:

"As a Girl Thinks"

as a girl thinks

noreply@blogger.com (Melanie) — Fri, 08 Mar 2013 15:19:00 +0000

Since October, I've been working on a story.
About the past few years of my life. About adjusting to college. About my struggles with food.
And most importantly, about Christ.
The five-part series, "As a Girl Thinks," will be published this coming Monday. Throughout the week, each chapter will be printed in the paper and online edition of the Daily Illini. My stories are detailed and revealing, as well as the vignettes from other college girls across the country. We are standing together for this piece — fighting shame and choosing boldness.
I have absolutely no idea what to expect when this comes out. There will undoubtedly be negative backlash — I'm prepared for that. But my great hope is that people will actually read it, understand it, grow from it.
This story is the final crescendo of my semester at home, the finished product of what happened and how God worked it together. And I can't wait to share it with this campus next week.

a full heart

noreply@blogger.com (Melanie) — Wed, 06 Mar 2013 05:31:00 +0000

"...the fullness of Him who fills everything in every way."
Ephesians 1:23

the thrift shop party

noreply@blogger.com (Melanie) — Sun, 03 Mar 2013 18:51:00 +0000

This is why I love Illini Life:

These friends, they are the best.

home and back

noreply@blogger.com (Melanie) — Tue, 26 Feb 2013 22:38:00 +0000

I went home this past weekend. And it was good, so good — now that I've gone back to school, I sometimes forget about my semester at home, but the visit reminded me of how much I love being there, tucked away in my safe haven:

The best part, though, was this: For the very first time, I didn't feel like crying on the drive to Champaign on Monday. I actually wanted to come back to campus, to Stratford, to the place is becoming a second home.

Lord, thank You for bringing me here.

the weekend

noreply@blogger.com (Melanie) — Mon, 18 Feb 2013 14:17:00 +0000

Courtney and I at her sorority's impromptu // laughing on Valentine's night

my latest Daily Illini column // my parents-slash-best-friends drove down for a Saturday lunch

spending time in 1 Peter // a Sunday morning of filming on the Quad

single

noreply@blogger.com (Melanie) — Wed, 13 Feb 2013 14:35:00 +0000

Last February, Valentine's Day arrived in all its pink, romantic, gushy glory and I said to myself: Melanie, by this time next year, you'll have a boyfriend to share it with. Just wait. One more year.
Well. I guess that wasn't in God's cards, not a part of His plan, because Thursday is that day and I just don't see anything happening.
It's frustrating, sometimes — no, all the time — to look around and see steady relationships. I want that. I want to meet the man I'm going to marry right here, right now, at the University of Illinois.
In October 2011, I wrote this post, and my dating checklist remains very much the same: I imagine the guy I end up with to be:
-cute (think Mark Ruffalo in 13 Going on 30)
-able to make me laugh
-crazy in love with Christ
-someone who could possibly love me someday, too
This is the ultimate opportunity for me to trust in God's promises, His perfection, His knowledge. My God already knows who I'll end up with. But this singleness scares me. It really, truly scares me.
I'm not the only one. I can say that much.
Last week, Samantha wrote an exceptionally vulnerable blog post about the moments after she left a wedding, wondering when she would find someone.
"I pulled out of the parking lot wiping away the tears and finally said out loud, 'I trust You, Lord.' With everything that is within me, I know that it is worth the wait. I know that this is truth, but the waiting is still hard. As I was driving I was reminded of this song - 'I Breathe You in God' by Bryan and Katie Torwalt - and immediately pulled it up. I turned it up loud and sang to the ultimate Lover of my soul. The more I sang my gaze was turned back toward Him."

I'm singing that same song now, that song of praise and that song of surrender.

I trust You, too, Lord.

why i don't confess

noreply@blogger.com (Melanie) — Sun, 10 Feb 2013 16:06:00 +0000

The last few words of Romans 14 clearly define sin as "everything that does not come from faith." Well. If that's sin, then I probably do it upwards of 100 times a day. I go my own way, choose my path, distrust and wonder if God really knows what He's doing.

Still, my sin list continues:

Curse words, those can slip right out of my mouth without me even batting an eyelash. I feel envy somewhat often. I say "Oh, my God" to convey shock, surprise. I gossip. I assume. I think angry thoughts when I'm angry, sad thoughts when I'm sad. And, once in a while, I allow food to be the god of my life again, forgetting all that is true and noble and right. I could go on.

I sin. We all do. As long as we walk this earth and live in these bodies, we will be sinning. But "sinner" is not my identity. I'm completely redeemed, set free by Christ's death and resurrection. In one sweeping moment, He forgave me for my sins, once and for all.

Once and for all.

I've heard so many sermons and services about how we need to repent, to confess, to beg for mercy, to ask for forgiveness. This hurts my heart and makes it heavy. What a sad, sorrowful way to live, constantly wondering if we are pure enough or clean enough. This isn't what Christ wants for us. When He died for us on the cross, it was final. Consider Hebrews 9:23-29: "Nor did He enter heaven to offer Himself again and again, the way the priest enters the Most Holy Place every year with blood that is not his own. Then Christ would have to suffer many times since the creation of the world. But now He has appeared once for all at the end of the ages to do away with sin by the sacrifice of Himself. Just as man is destined to die once, and after that to face judgement, so Christ was sacrificed once to take away the sins of many people; and He will appear a second time, not to bear sin, but to bring salvation to those who are waiting for Him."

Then, Paul continues through Hebrews 10:11-14: "Because by one sacrifice He has made perfect forever those who are 'the holy ones.'"

This is truth. It is fact.

Hebrews 10:17-18: "Then He adds, 'Their sins and lawless acts I will remember no more.' And where these have been forgiven, there is no longer any sacrifice for sin."

Christ did away with the sin issue by becoming sin for us. He died for all of it - past, present and future. Though we still sin, we don't live under a constant limbo of "am I good enough for Him yet?" Freedom isn't found in that mindset; freedom is found when we understand that we are no longer defined by our sinful behavior, no longer bound by any set of laws.

Freedom is Christ.

Under the law, people confess their sins. But under grace, Jesus died for our sins. Our response should be an attitude of thanksgiving, grateful for His all-encompassing mercy.

My very next sin might be in a few minutes, or maybe it'll happen in an hour or so. I do know, though, that I won't be asking for forgiveness or confessing a long list of shortfalls as I fall asleep tonight. I will be thanking Jesus for His sweet, sweet sacrifice. For dying on that cross. For forgiving us completely and making us holy, once and for all.

"Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit of life set me free from the law of sin and death."

Romans 8:1-2

"All this is from God, who reconciled us to Himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation: that God was reconciling the world to Himself in Christ, not counting men's sins against them."

2 Corinthians 5:18-19

"When you were dead in your sins and in the uncircumcision of your sinful nature, God made you alive with Christ. He forgave us all our sins, having canceled the written code, with its regulations, that was against us, and that stood opposed to us. He took it away, nailing it to the cross."

Colossians 2:13-14

the roomie photoshoot

noreply@blogger.com (Melanie) — Wed, 06 Feb 2013 14:30:00 +0000

...These girls, they are wonderful.

what happened on friday

noreply@blogger.com (Melanie) — Mon, 04 Feb 2013 13:29:00 +0000

Since arriving back on campus, I've been more joyful, more thankful, more full than ever. The days and weeks have flown by since January 11th - between Illini Life, Stratford, the Daily Illini and every other aspect of my U of I life, my time here has been almost surreal.

And so when I binged on Friday night, I was completely and utterly blindsided.
-

It began with dinner. The girls in this house don't always prepare the healthiest food, and Friday was no exception: fruit pizzas and honey BBQ wings. Essentially, I ate frosted sugar cookie with berries piled on top for my main course. I knew I might be triggered by all of the decadence, but I wanted to eat what everyone else was having. I wanted to be normal.

What will they think if I refuse a fruit pizza? I thought to myself as I stood in the kitchen.

My worries propelled me toward the tray of treats. I ate one, then I ate another. And somehow, I found myself having cookie after cookie after cookie.

Somewhere between six and seven fruit pizzas, I stopped, turned on my heel, and went upstairs to brush my teeth. I promised myself that the eating would end for the evening. It did - for a little while, at least. But then, I snapped, scouring the house for treats and stuffing myself with anything I could find. It was 8:30 when I called my mom and told her about the binge, holding back tears. Privacy on a Friday night in this house is difficult to find; I resorted to sitting in the stairwell as I poured out the story of how one innocent fruit pizza led to a few thousand extra calories.

In my mind, Satan's lies took control: You're a failure. You will never get past this. Food will hurt you forever. You're disgusting. This semester will be no different than your previous ones.

And I felt weak, bloated, too tired to fight back. All I wanted was solitude, but there were people in every room. I had no place to go, no hiding spot to cry in. I was trapped.
It's funny how the worst things can turn into blessings.
On Friday night, I thought I needed to be alone. My routine after a binge had always been the same: I crumble, I shut down, I choose loneliness. But this was the first time I couldn't do that.
After I hung up with my mom, I stood in the stairwell for a moment, thinking. And then, God nudged me: Go. Talk to someone. Don't be alone.
So I did.
I allowed myself to be vulnerable as I told two of my good friends what happened. I buried my face in my hands and listened to their words of encouragement, of love, of support. Before I went to bed, they prayed for me. It was right then and there that I felt peace wash over me.
-
When I woke up the next morning, my heart was still full. I had a normal breakfast, then sipped coffee and spent an hour in the Word.
I began to draw a few conclusions:
1. In the aftermath of the binge, I felt crushed. I was believing those lies - the devil's lies - and stumbling over the fact that I had fallen prey to the very thing that drove me from U of I last September. My initial desire was for Stratford to be a binge-free place. A fresh start. A new chapter. I put myself under pressure, under the law, in the hopes of paving a different road. Well, as it turns out, food is still a temptation for me; it is the craving of my flesh. This is where I'm at right now.
2. My mind was overloaded with anxious thoughts last week. I was crazy worried about finding the perfect summer internship; my mom told me she could hear the stress in my voice every time we talked. I believed her. Media internships competitive, and I feel an immense need to compete. (Prayer request: That I may remember the importance of my identity in Christ instead of focusing on my achievements and résumé.)
3. This binge was different from any other binge before. I was able to tell my friends immediately after it happened, which is huge for me. And then, the very next day, I told my roommates. In the past, I probably wouldn't have ever confessed my slip-up to these people. I kept my shame, wrestled with it, until it slowly began to bury me. After I binged on Friday night, there was no shame.
There. Was. No. Shame.
-
At Saturday Night Grace that evening, I stood in awe of God's unbelievable plan. He was able to take my binge and use it for good, reminding me of my great need for Him. He used my dear friends to lift me up. He showed me that one mistake doesn't have to destroy me.
He gave me joy in the midst of my trial, when I least expected it.
For these things, I am thankful.
Ephesians 3:20-21: Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than we ask or imagine, according to the power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.

Christ lives in me

noreply@blogger.com (Melanie) — Thu, 31 Jan 2013 15:04:00 +0000

I'm not quite sure when this became my favorite verse, but after years of wavering between 1 John 4:18 and Philippians 4:6, this little piece of Galatians has turned into my comfort and my hope.

Oftentimes, we think God is a faraway God, out of touch and out of reach. He's not. He's here. When we are in Christ, Christ also comes to live in us. His Holy Spirit now dwells inside of me and anyone else who has accepted the eternal gift of salvation and new life.
The same spirit that raised Christ from the dead lives in me — speaking and moving through my body. This isn't my life to live anymore. By faith, I surrendered to this Savior, giving Him full permission to take control. And in order to allow Christ to work through me, I need to choose Him in all situations. This is what Paul is saying, and the message is crucial for contentment.
Galatians 2:20 makes the Resurrection relevant for today, for tomorrow, for the rest of our lives.

on fire

noreply@blogger.com (Melanie) — Sun, 27 Jan 2013 06:00:00 +0000

Somewhere between late November and now, a fire started burning in my heart. It was small at first, fighting to stay lit, to retain oxygen, to grow. The days and weeks went by and soon, the little fire was a big fire - burning brightly for my King.

I've always loved Jesus, ever since I asked Him to enter my life at a very young age. I grew older, learned more, matured in my faith... But it wasn't until my semester at home that I became absolutely, positively sold out for Christ. I understood more about His freedom and acceptance than ever before. Those twists and those turns led me to this point, the one I'm at right now: on fire. I am yearning to share with everyone I know - and everyone I don't know. I want to spread the truth, the Gospel, the new life that I have uncovered. This is my heart.

Last Saturday, my pastor talked about how incredibly fruitful a college campus is, especially ours: The University of Illinois is home to over 40,000 students, traveling to Champaign-Urbana from more than 100 countries and almost every U.S. state. This is the only time in life when we will be surrounded by peers, divided up into houses, apartments and dorms. And then, somewhere in the midst of this sprawling campus, there are those of us equipped with a message of hope in Christ.

It is the single most important thing in life, and it must be shared.

His sermon hit me. I sat there and listened, my heart beating a million times a minute, as he challenged us to be bold. To meet new people, to pray for them, to tell them this crazy Good News.

I don't want this to be my mission for the spring semester.

I want it to be my mission for life.

twelve days of stratford house

noreply@blogger.com (Melanie) — Tue, 22 Jan 2013 13:45:00 +0000

It's been twelve days since I moved into this house, twelve days of getting to know these sisters in Christ and familiarizing myself with a new place and adjusting to college all over again.
And oh, these twelve days have been a whirlwind.
At first, it was hard. There were so many luxuries I missed about home; I stood in the shower one afternoon and cried, mourning the loss of my semester off. Part of me hated the fact that I suddenly had responsibilities: prepare meals for everyone, do chores, wash my dishes, scrub the inside of the oven... Then, another part of me loathed sleeping in a communal dorm - on a top bunk.
And beyond my shallow concerns, there were deeper ones.
"Mom, I just don't think I fit in," I whispered into the phone one morning. "Everyone already has their own friends. I'm the new girl. I don't fit."
Those doubts have since begun to ebb.
The girls in this house, I'm learning, are some of the most kind-hearted people I have ever met. As I've slowly been building relationships, I can see why God opened the door of Stratford House for me. I may not have a clique of my own, but I do know that these women are worth getting to know. These women are unique, these women are passionate, these women are real.
Last week, my two roommates and I were talking, lounging on our futon, when one of them said something that stuck: "God puts us in these rooms, with these roommates, for a reason," she told me, her eyes aglow. "He puts us where we need to be."
After spending this much time with my roommates, I couldn't agree more. I am so completely confident that He is weaving my story together, blessing me with a community of believers and a cozy place to live.
It's been twelve days, only twelve days, and I already know that I am home.

We wake up to a sweet note like this every morning, left on the breakfast table by the first girl awake. It is the absolute right way to start each day.

the next chapter

noreply@blogger.com (Melanie) — Fri, 11 Jan 2013 14:18:00 +0000

In a sweet Christmas note for me, my best friend Courtney wrote this:
Remember the last night of summer, when we were cried and prayed together and were so afraid to go back to U of I? God answered that prayer in a way we didn't expect Him to. And so much has happened, so much has changed, since that moment. But I am so incredibly grateful it all had to fall apart in order to be put back together beautifully.
I read her words as my mind drifted back to that night in my car. We were both moving into our sorority houses the very next day, and fear gripped our hearts with worst-case scenarios.
(Mine came true.)
Last night, I lay in bed with Courtney and Maggie, eyes shut tight as we prayed for each other. It was such a different scene compared to the one in August. We didn't cry. I didn't cry. My heart swelled in my chest and I felt thankful.
Today, I am headed back to the University of Illinois to begin the next chapter of my life. I'm not the same person I was when I left in September. God has nudged me, molded me, tested me, taught me, and led me to this point. He has showed me who I am and reminded me of the identity that cannot be taken from me: a daughter of the King. His child. Accepted, loved, forgiven, renewed. Alive in Christ.
I want to give this semester to Him. Instead of falling into another downward spiral of me-me-me, I will walk in the Spirit and cling to God's promises. What's more, my desire is to openly share what I have learned with the people I come across, especially my new housemates in Stratford.
I'm at the very edge right now. The driving-to-Champaign, not-quite-there-yet, about-to-start-life edge. I still have fears and anxious thoughts, but those are conquered by the overwhelming concept of hope. I have the security of Christ, living and speaking and working through me.
And that is enough.

a year ends, a year begins

noreply@blogger.com (Melanie) — Fri, 04 Jan 2013 00:17:00 +0000

lemon competition: Sam vs. me // my parents, after our walk

a beachfront stroll on the last morning of 2012 // ringing in 2013 with sweet friends

new year's day chefs in my kitchen // our beautiful brunch