Turkey Panini.

My day started at 2 P.M. today.

Its currently 2:15 P.M.

Did I waste my day? Its a very relative answer. But I have to say… I am fighting the urge to not feel like I failed today. 

Sitting at a quaint coffee shop on my little island, its very quiet except for food orders, Christmas music and the creaking floors of the old house turned warm business. I opted out of using headphones today. Something about shutting the world out around me felt wrong for today. There’s a lovely older couple at the table in front of me shifting cash around to find an appropriate tip. I wonder how many times their hands have done this… I wonder what their eyes have seen in their lifetime. And I thought that it must feel good to feel full… I cant wait for my oven roasted turkey panini with onions, light mayo, lettuce and tomato. And don’t forget the pasta salad. 

I felt kinda lonely when they left. I’m not sure why. 

I think they were just really warm people and their smile to me was really nice. 

I woke up around 11 A.M. today. A late hour for me. I then laid in bed until 1:30 P.M. reading different articles, Facebooking, stalking instagram, and draining my phone battery. I read hundreds of Humans of New York posts and dreamed of being in a big city. I just laid in bed doing a lot of dreaming. When I got in my car 30 minutes later to go to this coffee shop and blog… I got this drop in my stomach. It was the infamous guilt trip. I felt terrible for wasting my day. I should have done way more by this hour, right? “I need to go to the bank. Friends want to catch up. I should be praying or catching up on my latest self-help book. My car is a mess. I need to paint or create something. I need to be here. And there. And everywhere…..”

As I was driving away from my home, I made a connection with this feeling and where I am in my life and what I am learning the most: vulnerability. I think I blogged about this months ago but vulnerability isn’t a season. Its what makes life… well, life. So its still where I am and where I will always be. One of the biggest things I struggle with is being me. But who doesn’t? Every human I have met so far has cracked open in some form or fashion their struggle with being just human… with being who they are. Some are better at it than others whether through years of experience or moments of deep revelation. This has become my magnified focus in the past few months. The ability to perform in order to receive love and affection has conjured a life and an identity that has proven to be unstable, shaky, poor, and ultimately exhausting. I deal with it every day. Just recently with the help of mentors, therapy, and tough love, I have started the journey of changing my way of thinking. Capturing thoughts at the seedling of development before they grow into those nasty monsters that choke my securities and produce lies. Hearing someone tell me, “Who you are is very much enough. You do not need to perform or do things to make me love you,” causes these tiny little atomic bomb explosions in my mind. 

Its a foreign concept to think that who I am is enough.

But something I really like about myself… is that I really like a good challenge.

Being vulnerable is such a very interesting thing to be. And it could look like so many different things. I was vulnerable yesterday when I stood up for what my heart could handle and what it couldn’t. I was vulnerable last week at a memorial service for my father. It was the hardest thing to let friends see my heart’s true insides. I am vulnerable every time I try to answer to casual “how are you?” question with all honesty. I am vulnerable when I ask for help or when I am the shoulder that is being cried on.I am vulnerable when I show people a new piece of choreography… what if they don’t like it or even understand it? I am vulnerable when I am trying something new, admitting I am afraid, saying no, sharing an unpopular opinion, asking for forgiveness, wearing a new crazy pair of boots I really like, trusting, hoping, loving, and simply just being me. 

But with just the few times I have successfully and awkwardly tried to let me be enough… its always the most peaceful, liberating, and fun experience. And usually people tell me how fun I am or how something about me is different.. and good. 

I realized that laying in bed was not lazy today. I had a really fun time resting and dreaming. I’m choosing to let go of even MY own expectations. I am doing what I can and letting go of what I cannot. I am even letting go of this awful fear of my blogs being absolutely lame and stupid and overly emotional. I am a really emotional being. I like writing out what I am learning and this is where I am. It has to be enough because its who I am today. 

And I am really learning to love me because of who made me. God isn’t this being far away that is waiting for me to just “get” this whole life thing. He isn’t sitting across the room taking notes on my performance. I am not in a waiting season to simply learn how to wait. My life is not an arbitrary season. I am waiting for not just something but for a specific experience. My future husband and children aren’t just random floating spirits in my future. They have names and are real. And who I am is absolutely incredible because yes, I was made to do great things, but I was made to be me. Its what God needs the most. For me to be me. And every day I am learning that living in TRUTH is what vulnerability is all about. I don’t think I will ever just wake up and say, “I know myself.” Who knows… I’m really young and I don’t know what it feels like to be old with a body full of experiences. But it seems like to me that I was made in such beautiful fashion by such an intricate God that I will always keep learning something about myself. I believe I will become more comfortable with how and who I was made to be… but I think my own self will keep surprising me. 

Today I love how I make a sanctuary wherever I go. My table at this coffee shop is covered in books and food and I am bundled up in a hand made scarf and my favorite moccasin boots. I love that I can strike a conversation with the older gentlemen behind me about more things than just the weather. I love that I am giving myself the freedom to do this day the way I want to… not the way I expect myself to do it. 

And I love that I am letting my thoughts be enough instead of trying to make this blog be “inspirational” or “astounding.”

I am who I am today and I love who made me. 

Love Looks Like Something.

There are a million things racing, whizzing, stumbling, and crawling through my mind.

“Why am I blogging? I don’t even know what to say.”

“I really need to get my hair done.”

“My heart hurts.”

“I really want more community.”

“I am so hungry.”

“Fasting works.”

“How many times do I have to listen to that song to finally get the counts right for that dance?”

“Oh I wish I could see into the future.”

“I can, but I cant. NO.. I CAN. No…. I cant.”

“I want a puppy.”

These are my thoughts. Some I wish I didn’t have to claim. Some of them I shouldn’t claim. Some of the heart wrenching ones I didn’t even type for fear that specific people might read this. Others were simply too pathetic or silly or really weird to leave without a back story. But I will tell you about one thought process that has proven to be exponentially fruitful:

Love.

Growing up, hearing the words, “You have to love yourself before you can love others,” seemed incredibly easy to accomplish. Oh I love myself. I feed and dress myself well. I indulge in a piece of chocolate here and there. I surround myself with good people. I serve God. I pursue what I love. I even talk to people here and there when I’m sad. Oh I got this. 

I saw loving myself as a task list and before anyone could tell me I was wrong, I was already pen in hand ready to check off the things I had done right…. to prove to them I hadn’t done it wrong.

-Do. Prove. Perform. Love.-

That was my strategy. Now, let me explain to you about how the above formula blew up in my face.

A couple of weeks ago I was having a conversation with a dear friend of mine. The two hour talk was so much fun and so full of life. We caught each other up on our lives. Talked about how much God was moving in our hearts and we laughed a lot. Near the end of the conversation, I said some insecure things because he wasn’t saying things I expected him to and I assumed that because of that, it meant he didn’t care as much as I did.

-Expectation. Assumption.-

After a few minutes, I realized what I was doing and voiced my wrong-doings and apologized profusely. In his grace, he quickly forgave me but it wasn’t enough for me. Something in my brain told me that this was it. Because I messed up the end of the conversation I had then ruined our entire bonding time. And because of that failure, I was sure he didn’t want to be in my life anymore. I was positive that I had proven to him I wasn’t worthy to be loved anymore. And I assumed that I hadn’t met his expectation of me and therefore I had failed him.

Ridiculous, huh? Well, that was me. And sometimes, it still is to be honest.

After breaking down by myself and feeling like my whole way of loving people was crumbling in my hands, I found myself back on my therapist’s couch. (Yes, I’m in therapy. You should be too. Its a great thing.) Going back to the file labeled, “childhood and messy” I realized that I have been loving people with the wrong mentality for years. The thought of being so wrong after feeling so right… broke me completely down.

It began to unfold in front of me. Unraveling rapidly, I didn’t know what to do with it all. And I had to finally accept the fact that I had a severe case of performance mentality. And boy, was it overwhelming.

I love to perform. (Hell, I’m a dance teacher.) I love to be good at a plethora of things just to please any crowd that comes my way. If I even suspect that a close friend isn’t completely happy with me, I will do things for them, send them surprising gifts, or words of affirmation just to remind them of how good of person I am. Just to show them that I promise I am good enough to love. But you know what happens when all of your life’s identity relies on performance? ONE mistake is taken as a ticket to leave. A chance to abandon. There is no grace in this mentality. How could there be when you must always be on your game, trying to convince people to love you based on the actions you do?

For me, this performance mentality comes from a place of abandonment and rejection and never feeling good enough. I didn’t realize this until I started learning more and more about my now new favorite word:

Vulnerability.

I don’t think the majority of the world really likes this word at all. But for me, it has proven to be essential to healthy living. Its the ability to leave yourself open and honest to those around you… for the risk of letting them see who you really, truly are. But why do I have such a hard time being vulnerable? Along with millions of others?

Shame.

We were all made for connection. Think about how much humans seek, crave, and need attention and connection with others. But shame is the fear of disconnection, of the belief that you’re “just not good enough.”

And you can’t have performance mentality without shame. Because shame is what fuels our need to put on a mask for whatever crowd surrounds us for fear that our natural face simply won’t be enough.

When I began to learn all of this crazy good revelation, I asked myself, “But how in the world do you DO vulnerability?” (Witness my need to do something in order to receive something. Its a mindset I am still continually trying to break.) But that’s just the thing, you can’t do vulnerability. You simply can’t. Instead you actually have to let go.

You have to be willing to let go of who you thought you were in order to be who you truly are. And this my friends, is where the battle lies.

I have learned that those who live out excruciating vulnerability and those who don’t are only separated by one factor. Those who do live this out believe that they are worthy of love. Therefore they risk their hearts in a vulnerable place because they simple deserve to be loved well. But this belief can only be conjured up from one place… self-love. 

After reading Brene Brown’s book, “Daring Greatly” which is where I got most of this knowledge, I realized that I can’t do things for people in order to receive their love. Living in a performance mode will simply be a place of disappointment… because people are positively, 100% going to fail me. And moreover, I will undoubtedly fail throughout my life. But it doesn’t mean that I don’t deserve to be loved well.

So, you’ll have to excuse me if you see me around soon. Because I am learning the art of vulnerability. I am learning how to be honest with people and how to show them that what is placed inside of me, not what I can do, is who Lexi Holloway is. And I am learning that I was never perfect and that my expectations of myself should never reflect the need for perfectionism.

What’s even better is that I am learning to love me. In turn, loving my innate design means loving God more. Its bringing me to a place of being undone and yet whole. Because in Him, I am enough. In Him, I am loved and fully treasured. Its not by works or striving, do I pull Him closer to me. Its by faith and grace, that I am catapulted into the depths of His heart.

All of my coping mechanisms, defense strategies, and formulas are crumbling. Its hard to let them go. Its a daily process. But love is not a feeling. Its a choice. Its a choice to get out of bed every day and love what’s been placed before you. Love looks like vulnerability, letting go, trust.

And don’t forget, when God places love in front of you, whether its a relationship, or a chance to love yourself more… its a gift. When you break or damage that gift, its okay. Take it back to Him, let him redeem it, and then treasure the gift again. He doesn’t like returns, He likes redemption.

But most of all, He really really likes us. Just for us.

Dancing.

I’ve never written about my dancing before.

Why?

Its the biggest part of my life. I find myself never even thinking about capturing this art form with words because those words would have to run too far and not fast enough to encompass and catch the wholeness of it all.

But I really want to try. Bear with me?

Yesterday afternoon, I laid sprawled out in the middle of my studio floor. The cold marley beneath my sweating skin felt nice and oh so familiar. I’ve laid on this floor so many times and it never gets old. My chest could barely hold in my fast heartbeat and my nose could hardly catch up with how badly my body wanted air: the aftermath of creating. Looking up at the white Christmas lights strung about the dark room (my favorite addition to the studio) brought me peace. I laid there, exasperated, thinking about the moves I had just thrown into the air. I analyzed the form and flow of each one and how they reflected the rhythm of the music. A normal process I find myself in… choreographing… creating… failing… but actually succeeding. And then I thought… “I have been doing this dancing thing… this process… for 15 years. It is my second nature… no it is just my nature. How much do I really know?”

That question wasn’t a defeating one. It was one that made me think long and hard about the journey of dedicating yourself to one thing your entire life. Day in day out. Rainy days, sad days, happy days, days where you crawl to it and force yourself to do it, days where you jump into it… drowning in pure joy. The art and sport of dance is truly like none other. Its equally demanding in physical strength and performance as it is in creativity and passion. So when you dedicate your entire life to this thing or anything for thing for that matter… you begin to know more than you think. This art form is ever growing, ever changing and every day there is a ridiculous kid popping up in the industry doing new things, defying more gravity and pushing the envelope harder. We all have to stay on our toes… literally. But as a dancer, you get so used to never accepting where you are as the finish line… but as a marker on your way to infinite growth. It is taught, better yet drilled into your head that someone will always be better than you. It is up to you to continually practice, make more connections, more sacrifices. Its really easy to lose yourself as you grow. Really easy.

I’m transitioning in my career as a dancer. There have been several transitions thus far… from dancer to assistant to company dancer to teacher to choreographer (scariest job so far, but the best) and here I am transitioning from teacher to professional dancer. I dreamed about being a professional dancer since I was a little girl and now Papa has given me the grace and mercy to go for it. I’ve been blessed enough to have doors already swung wide open and now is the time to pick up and move this career to a bigger city, a bigger platform. But you see, my mind never stops as a dancer and artist… I’m constantly trying to find new moves, new ways my mind can form to melodies and air, new projects to dive into. And sometimes this overwhelms me. I never think I’m a good dancer. I have confused and blurred the line between striving and growing. So as I laid on that floor of my home studio… I realized this as I fraught over how my choreography wasn’t good enough. And as I laid there with closed eyes trying to fight back the tears, Yeshua took me back to my first dance class and walked me through those last 15 years.

He showed me the moments of learning how to do my first leap, my first tap time step, my first ballet barre combination. He walked me through the learning process of becoming an assistant and how I led my first stretching class… shaking with fear. My first solo… and how much joy it brought me. Then he brought me to the first time I created a dance which led into an entire production by age 13. I learned about music theory and how to partner it with movement. That scary transition to a bigger studio which humbled my ego and broke me down thinking I would never be a good dancer. He reminded me of one of my favorite memories in that season: sixteen years old and scared to death of joining a new company. I wanted to quit for the first time since I was three. My precious father told me, “When you stand in that studio and work on your technique… look into the mirror and focus on you. When you fail… look harder, don’t look away. Tell yourself you are digging a deeper well for water to draw from later.” Those words helped me to stay with that company and studio until I graduated high school which later provided me with a teaching career. He painted the memory of the week I returned to dance after my father died. The first time I danced again… in grief and in full support from my dancing sisters around me.

Jesus showed me the all the knowledge I had acquired in the last 6 years at Studio South. From competition life to being a part of a life long dance family. What it was like to learn how to audition and how to accept rejection as a drive to grow. Uncovered were the moments of when I first became a teacher. Learning to shape a child’s life with joy and courage… lots and lots of courage. How I learned that sometimes it important to sit down and cry with them and work on battements and tendus later. And how its even more important to let go of their hand and push them forward while always nodding your head in reassurance as they look back in fear.

Jesus reminded me that my well is actually really deep and not as shallow as I have always imagined.

And then I realized that it wasn’t that Jesus was just in my dancing. He was my dance. He is my dance. All His truths and character are found in dance. He  has taught me through this whole art how to try new things and trust in the mean time. How to love well and value others strengths and weaknesses. And how it spills over into other areas in my life. Better yet, Jesus has saved me time and time and time and time again through dancing. Its one of the main ways He loves me and speaks to me. I process hurt, anger, happiness, and all of the above feelings by allowing rhythm to movement to wrap around my bones. I lose myself when I dance… but I find Him in the middle of it all. I lose my breath and find the breath of life. I wake up dancing and go to sleep dancing from the shower to my bed. I’m even occasionally tapping my feet to the music in my headphones as I type all of this.

So He spoke to me gently saying, “Beloved, you have the tools to do what is ahead. Any moment you dance, I am there. You are loving Me and I am loving you.”

So as I know that I have  a lot to learn in dance and even more in life… I am comforted in the promise of what I already know:

That I don’t have to have all the answers. I just have to trust what’s been placed inside of me and run with Him toward the dream. He has told me that I have enough to contribute. My creativity is wonderful in uniqueness and is the reflection of His enormous creative mind. So I can run in full confidence that although I might not get it all right, I will still succeed in loving Him. Dancing with Him. Trusting Him.

So in whatever gift He has given you… don’t let the world overtake you with it. Realize that the walls on the inside of you are sturdy and covered in beautiful tapestries of stories waiting to be told. You, Beloved, are His reflection. Nothing needs to be added. So look harder into the mirror of His love and run with confidence that He didn’t create you in a moment of sadness or unfinished love… He made you in the middle of pure joy, vision, and confidence. He loves what He has made and He wants to show the world. So run with Him, dance with Him, paint with Him, make businesses with Him, be a doctor with Him, be an accountant, surfer, lover, giver, news anchor, singer, janitor, dreamer with Him.

For He is the ultimate creator and you are His amazing masterpiece.

Come Alive.

I’ve erased an opening sentence three times now. I’ve saved two almost completed blogs as “drafts” in the last two weeks. Nothing is coming to me. Even at this moment.

I am a creative person through and through. I know this. It is definitely not a secret. My job as a choreographer entails and demands creative movement every day. Painting, sketching, sewing, house decor… are things I absolutely love to do. I’m always changing my hair color, getting a tattoo, or telling people to “let go” or “just paint something… You are more creative than you think!” But what happens to a creative person when their creativity has completely vanished?

That’s me. The past month or two I have been what I would call “just living.” It’s a hard thing to explain… I’m not even sure if I can find the words to convey where I’ve been… bear with me. It’s as if I have been running on empty yet trying to fulfill everyone around me. That’s a cycle that simply doesn’t work. Every day feels… dare I say… normal, complacent, quite frankly… boring. It feels like I’m having some sort of outer body experience every single day. I watch myself do every day activities… cleaning, working, sleeping, socializing… and feel nothing. I feel like a stranger to myself.

The last few weeks I began to become more and more aware of where I have been lately. And the more I became aware, the more I became frustrated… hopeless… confused. You see, I am a person that looks to the future. My futuristic mentality helps to pull me out of any  problem slowly but surely because I focus on what is to come. With any pain I have felt, I have always known why and that “why” leads me to a solution.

But what happens when you have no idea why you feel so hopeless? What happens when you begin to feel nothing for no apparent reason? I have had no purpose to my pain and because of that, I had no idea what to pray for, what to look forward to, what actions to take to get to wholeness. Nothing has gone completely wrong in my life lately. I have had no tragedy to make me sad, no utter destruction that would make me feel like this. I just woke up one morning and looked back on my recent days and realized I have been very very unhappy.

One of my biggest problems is talking to people. I have come to learn that I talk a lot but I don’t let anyone in. I will tell stories of where I came from, share my testimony and listen and relate others. But I never will stop someone to tell them where I really am. “I’m good, how are you?” or “my heart is learning, growing, stretching” are my general replies to the question of how I have been. Most of the time I don’t even realize that I’m walling people off. I just do it. I do this sort of internal processing 24/7 and my mind spins and spins and spins and spins. Then I just go on auto-pilot. I continue to minister to others, “listen” to others. I become just a warm body present in the room because I want you to know that I’m still here, that I haven’t completely disappointed you. But eventually, I start to lose touch with who I am because I am not allowing myself to breathe, talk, create. I keep working, I keep striving. And then…

I feel nothing.

That is a death sentence to someone who lives off of creativity and inspiration. Feeling nothing has stunted my growth to create and be who I am. It has walled me off in worship and prayer, in friendships, in my family, in everything.

I never mentioned any of this to anyone for months and then last Tuesday, I cracked. At a lunch date with Sarah DeShaw (which I almost canceled), she asked me how I was. I began to reach for my normal response… but I looked at her. She has been a woman of inspiration to me lately. She is constantly pushing me to be what I want to be. I realized that if she wasn’t going to understand my heart, then no one would. And I got tired of lying. So before I realized it, I spilled it all. I watched my words crumble, stumble, flow, and leap out of my mouth and onto the table between us. They painted an atmosphere of vulnerability that made me uncomfortable. I didn’t like showing her, or anyone for that matter, that I was a mess. I wanted to just be able to dream with her, talk with her about projects and goals. But I couldn’t, so I just kept talking. Her nodding head and understanding smile made me realize that I wasn’t as crazy as I thought. She shared with me secrets and revelation. And I saw that talking to someone about my heart wasn’t going to mark me as not inspirational or as a poor candidate to help others. It made me just down right human.

I told her that I haven’t felt fully alive and that I have felt so completely distant from the Lord that it was literally driving me insane. It was breaking my heart.

She suggested to write two lists: 50 things that make me come alive and 50 things that don’t. So I wrote them down yesterday. Here are a few of both:

Come Alive:

1. Dancing

2. Redecorating with old things

3. Documentaries

4. Painting my nails

5. Open windows/fresh air

6. Big band & Swing music

7. Helping people discover their creativity

8. Worshipping with close friends

9. Honesty/consistency

10. Giving  homemade gifts

Put to Death:

1. Unhealthy food

2. Keeping to myself

3. A space without personality

4. Not dreaming with others

5. Too much structure/not enough freedom

6. Being surrounded my complacency or uninspiring things

7. Not trusting Papa

8. Anything caffeinated

9. Not giving thanks

10. Forgetting my blessings

After reviewing my lists, I realized that I have been doing 90% of the things that are on my “put to death” list and barely any on the “come alive.” In that moment, I heard Papa finally. He began to show me that I had just wrote down 50 healthy ways to love Him, to worship Him, to be who I am. I realized that I am not meant to find Him in just a church, or just in my quiet place. We are not meant to find Him just in those things. I am different, each of us are different. We come packaged with unique strengths, desires, and dreams. How do we expect ourselves to find Him only in things others have structured for us? I woke up this morning… and rested. I watched a documentary I have been wanting to see, took a hot shower, put on my overalls and went out to my porch and began to create things. I looked at my list and focused on loving Him in every action, every step I do. This is what it means to love Him… to invite Him into your fun and your frustration, your desires and your weaknesses… that’s what being fully alive is beginning to look like to me. It’s doesn’t seem like a drastic change… but its the small moments that can become mountains. And all I want is open spaces and green pastures in my life where freedom can reside and I can breathe in peace.

I’m very thankful for seasons like this and I’m very thankful for consistent friends.

Man, it feels so nice to get this out. It feels so nice to feel alive again.

Risks & Rewards.

I think I want this post to be very personal. There’s something about being really vulnerable to people once in awhile that makes life a little bit more exciting… a little more risky. And we all know that you’ll never gain a reward without taking a risk. I’m hoping I’ll find a little bit of rest in releasing these words from my mind.

I think I’m finally finding ground.

My life has turned into a blossoming turn of events that are unique, interesting and exhilarating. That past 2 1/2 years have proven to be the hardest chapter of my life thus far. The death of my father sparked a wildfire in my life. It burned bridges, perspectives, habits, and marked me as forever changed. I was forced to see things for what they were. Death has a way of doing that… of gripping your face and turning you to look at who you are and what has sadly surrounded you. I drowned in pain and insecurities for awhile. The next year was not very pretty. Don’t get me wrong, every season, even if its a rough one, has beautiful moments. But overall, I let my pain, my anger, my lack of security leech on to my loved ones and force them to feel it all too. I cringe at the thought of it still. I knew that I was constantly moving towards healing. I was determined to not be that housewife in her 40’s who finally decided to face her dusty, buried pain. But its as if I tried too fast. I tried filling myself with a flourishing community as I sat in bitterness and unforgiveness. You see, that combination doesn’t work when you’re as stubborn as I am. I was not ready to face the root of it all and truly sacrifice what made me feel secure. I just thought that house church and speaking “kingdom” words would suffice and that everyone would believe I was on the way to full restoration. Looking back, I see why none of that worked.

When my dad fell ill, I was this rebellious high school senior doing anything and everything to make my parents believe I was smarter than they. I lived a lifestyle of so many regrets and countless blackouts if you want the truth. I was that typical small town, preacher’s daughter who had so much strong will and used every ounce of it to go against each good and wise word that came from my family. But as soon as I received the news that my father’s illness had become terminal, something in me changed. My heart went back to what I knew was right. Jesus had always been loving me rightly and I answered His call in a swift second. From that moment on, I left my friends, my habits and my life behind in order to pursue the Lord because I knew He was what mattered. Even after my father died, I never decided to go back to my familiar temptations. I continued to seek God in every moment and surrounded myself with beautiful, encouraging people. But that’s the thing…. in my rebellion, I had no idea who I truly was and the value I held in the Lord. And then when my father died, I still had no idea. I had let go of the awful choices but I still was swimming in a deep sea of pain and heartache trying to make it look like I wasn’t drowning in confusion.

And yet I hated myself for not knowing why I couldn’t just have a normal life. Hah!

A year later, Papa grabbed my heart and told me to hold on. He took apart everything I thought kept my life together. He stripped me of every security, one by one. Sounds kinda harsh, eh? Yeah, I thought so too. He kept saying, “Beloved, I need you to be only mine. I need your heart to be transformed. There’s so much I have for you to do.” I didn’t understand. The feeling of loneliness outweighed the value of sacrifice at the time and I hated it all. I couldn’t understand why Papa wouldn’t just let me heal while allowing me to not give up everything. Yeah, I know how ridiculous that last sentence was. It’s that whole “have your cake and eat it too” which in itself doesn’t make any sense. Oh well.

Finally after two years of fighting the Lord and be incredibly stubborn… I decided to truly let go. My hands, white-knuckled around fear and a strung-out heart, slowly released those who saved me over and over again. Laying down the anxiety, I began to back away from the “what ifs” and the fear of losing everything again. And as soon as I did, everything changed (Of course it did. It wouldn’t be a good blog if it didn’t). The summer of 2012 proved to hold new beginnings and new chances. It was as if Papa paused time and took the summer to teach me how to love again. It was just me and him… an unforgettable summer love. As He worked on my heart, I began to see myself for who I truly was. I took lessons in learning my value and He instructed me how to live a life as a woman full of grace, understanding, and hope. My mind was being transformed.

During that time, Jesus re-opened my dreams… the ones that I chose to throw away. When I was a little girl, I used to sit on my bed and carve out pictures of ballerinas and put them on my wall. I could trace their poses with my eyes closed. Every week I would count down the days until my next dance class and as I stood in fifth position in front of the mirror, I’d imagine myself as Martha Graham or Twyla Tharpe, the innovators of movement. I just knew I was meant to dance for the rest of my life. I just knew it. By the time I was eighteen I was dancing six days a week and loving every single bruise and sore muscle in the process. The plan was to go to Kennesaw State University and major in dance. Everything was figured out. But when my father died on the last day of my senior year, my financial support crumbled. I had no way of getting to college and I immediately accepted defeat. The lies of “it just isn’t what I’m made to do” was something I easily accepted. Papa blessed me during that horrible time with two dance teaching jobs that would continue to feed my passion for dance while allowing me to slowly heal. But I knew I was made for more. This past summer I have had several different amazing choreographers begin to pour into my life and provoke the question, “But do you still want to dance?” Everything in me aligned with a “YES!” and Papa immediately told me it was time to dream again.

There’s something precious… so very very precious about becoming awakened to a passion that has been long laid down. I had not even begin to pursue a professional dancing career, I was only dreaming about it again. And it was the most fun I had had in a long time. I felt alive, joyful, and so hopeful.

-Disclaimer: I have no reason to why I am explaining  where my life has been the past few years. Honestly. But I think this is good so Im going to keep writing. You can stop reading if you’d like.-

As soon as I said yes to the dream of becoming a professional dancer, the Lord moved quickly. I began to get offers for contract events and I even made connections with people in the dance industry that I never dreamed of making. Things just started to fall into place. That’s grace right there. And here I am, dropped out of college with only a year left, with dancing jobs lined up and a move to L.A. planned in the fall. Whoah. And things have just begun. Its amazing to see what happens when you take a risk. The rewards are grand.

May will be three years since my life changed… and I can actually sit here and type the words that.. I am fully dependent on the Lord. My mind has been renewed and my heart is continually growing in healing. Papa has given me NEW life… and it is exactly what I wanted the whole time. For the first time in 21 years, I feel alive in who I am. Slowly, I’m beginning to get to know the real Lexi Holloway and I like her so much. Looking back I can truly say that my father’s death was the best thing that ever happened to me. Gasp! I realize how weird and cold hearted that sounds. But it was my father’s death that turned my heart to Jesus and made me cling to Him. It was my father that used to beg with tears for me to change my ways… he would tell me he prayed constantly for my heart. Losing my father saved my life. And knowing my dad, I seriously believe that if he had the chance to come back.. he just wouldn’t. Because I know he would lose his life again if it meant his daughter to have the life she was made for. That’s the kind of love I was born into and that’s the kind of love I will continue to live in.

This is where I’m at. I hope you are in a good, stretching, growing place too.

Twins.

“…Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?” 1 Corinthians 1:54 & 55

Nothing in my life has been more rewarding than to rediscover who Jesus really is. I seem to have started a new journey, a new season. I don’t remember when it actually began… I think I just started cutting into the overgrown, entangled grass that was my life… and began a path all anew. The past few months have begun to carve my soul into someone I don’t recognize in the mirror. I really, really like it.

Summer began and I found myself never deeper in the problems I had once said I was free from… the itchy little buggards I thought were left at the feet of Jesus. Then through grace and glory and all things from above, something just “clicked.” I just breathed… stepped back… and quit striving. I stopped sitting in the local coffee shop for hours searching for the one “perfect” scripture to ease my anxiety. Those ritualistic prayers I did every morning in my car… yeah, those had to end. And I most definitely laid down the home groups, church events, and all things I thought would bring me peace.

Dont get me wrong, home groups, church, soaking in the Word… are absolutely wonderful things. But I realized that I was doing all of this out of pure striving and because people were telling me to do such things since I was little. I finally realized… that I had no idea what Jesus looked like. I had no comprehension of His language to ME, His love for ME, His desires, wisdom, plans, functions, and being to ME. And if I couldn’t figure out who and what Jesus was to me then how in the world was I supposed to show Him to others?

The entire summer seemed to be my cocoon. I could feel my spirit beginning to question everything and wanting more answers. I could feel change in its earliest forms and yet I had no capacity of mind to fit it all in. And yet a weekend getaway to a place unknown proved to be the welcome center of my new identity. The most unsuspecting people, the most unconvincing places seemed to have brought the clearest, most freeing “yes and amen” to my spirit.

Everything became uncovered. I learned how to take the ideas and beliefs that were given to me throughout my life, examine them, question them… and understand Jesus for myself. No one in my life is to blame for my misperceived Jesus… it was my heart that took every word spoken to me as truth. And it was finally time to determine what was real. I had to let go of the security of religion, something I thought only others hid behind because I was such a “radical Christian.” And I had to learn how seek Jesus the way I was created to seek him. That is the hardest thing to learn. Its an ongoing process, of course. The old has been put to death and new life is springing forth in victory!

But the most beautiful thing I have started to find…. is my identity. No wonder nothing felt right in my life. No wonder I felt so out of place…. I was living for Jesus through others advice without ever the glance into my own heart. No wonder I felt so unsatisfied.

I have never in my life felt freer than I do today… but I can’t wait for the days to come where I can write that sentence over again.

This new journey, this new season is a romance story full of freedom, mysteries and wild pursuits. Yeshua looks completely different than I have ever seen Him, yet He seems to fit my heart better than ever before. Every day I learn how to love Him even better, and every day He shows me the beauty of who the real Lexi Holloway is. And Im beginning to like her a lot.

My heartcry now is to one day hear from the Lord with a surprised gasp, “Ah, Lexi! You and Jesus……….. you two could be twins!”

The Moments in the Spaces.

I have these moments in my life that I swear could be hung up on a wall and called art, beautiful, a masterpiece. They help to take the grime on the inside of my spirit and transform it to a refreshing place of rest. They humble me and leave me speechless, thankful, and in a state of spiritual transformation.

Like Frank.. the man who has found himself homeless and weathered by the difficult and cold world around him. A few months ago I met him, encountered the Spirit with him and felt so moved by his heart. I left him not knowing where he would go, where he would sleep, but confident that his soul was a little bit more at ease as mine surely was. And just a few days ago, I was in a parking lot, trying to put oil in my car late at night.. knowing that I looked silly because I couldnt get the oil cap off… and a man’s voice behind me offered help. I felt like I needed to be on the defense, but my heart softened when I saw Frank’s tired smile and humble posture. He recognized me and reached for a hug. We sat and he told me about his struggles. I offered words of encouragement and we parted. I was humbled by his simple heartcry amongst my fast-paced, wanting lifestyle. It was beautiful to see that friend.. the one I thought I’d never see again.

That moment when the pastor of my church asked the congregation to stand next to the closest person around and pray a word of encouragement over each other… Mark Taylor, an older man who loves his family and friends well, wrapped his arm around me. As we stood there repeating a prayer, I felt his broad shoulder and was drawn to rest my head on it.. his fatherly presence was absolutely magnetic to my heart. I didnt realize how much I was still craving a father’s touch. His build was similar to my father’s… strong and secure. Im sure he has no idea.. but as I slowly put my head on my shoulder, I felt as if someone was refilling my heart with love.. reenergizing my spirit. I never told him, but I wanted to stay there forever. And he sealed that fatherly moment with a kiss to my forehead. I felt so loved. Such a small moment like that, unexpected, reminds me of how much my Father loves me.

Or when I danced in the rain with my students a few weeks ago. The laughter that intertwined us as we tried catching rain drops on our tongues.. was sweet. We mocked the seriousness of dance class and let go of all of our tension. It was like the rain washed not only our sweat away.. but our worries too. I will never forget that moment. I feel closer to them for it.

Oh that beautiful moment with my good friend, Liza. Our island buzzes with good friends every monday night. You can find us all at a local coffee and bar for open mic night. I found Liza and she asked to go for a walk. Down near the pier, we spilled our hearts to each other like we always do. But this moment was special. Here I am, walking next to such a beautiful spirit.. and with grace.. she cracks open her tears to share with me. We find ourselves sitting in the middle of the road.. in pretty dresses and pain. I watched her let her walls down, I watched her open her hands and loudly pray and cry for Jesus to shower his love down. I was so honored to be in such a raw moment with such a beautiful person. It taught me how to let go more. It taught me how to love more.

There I am sitting in an empty prayer chapel on a Sunday afternoon just a few short months ago.. Ive brought all the things to comfort me.. a blanket, journals, bibles, food, and my father’s guitar. But nothing could comfort me. I was hitting rock bottom. My tears werent normal, they shook my whole body with wailing. I clung to the worn down carpet, grit my teeth and screamed for the Lord to intervene. I rode the waves of grief, confusion, quiet crying, and moments of sleep. I spent over five hours in there. I stepped outside and let the ocean’s wind wrap my hair. The sun was setting and my body was exhausted from the pain I was feeling. I sat in the grass and let the Lord do works on my heart. That moment was the moment I dove deeper into His love.. it was raw, painful, and beautiful. I’d do it again.

Casey Nichols, a woman that deserves so many words to explain the beauty and grace she possesses, saved my life one night not so long ago. It wasnt exactly a situation where my physical life was in danger but rather my heart was drowning. She met me at midnight down at the dance studio.. and I showed her my new dance piece for an upcoming audition. She stopped me and told me to let go more. With just a few words I began to break.. break like I never have before. Over the next few hours, into the wee hours of the morning.. she literally dragged me across the dance floor.. pushed me as I crawled in tears. She worked through fear with me.. sat with me as I wept in grief. When we left, I felt refreshed, I felt somewhat healed. That moment I will hold close to me literally for the rest of my life.

I find God everywhere in my life. And when Im striving, I find him living amongst it all. These moments and so many others.. humble me, love on me, and heal me continuously. Its important to remember times that save you and carve you out into the raw beauty you really behold. These moments are made to carry you through the spaces that are cracked and dry. He is good.

Published.

Almost six months of no writing does something to you. You become something like a magic 8 ball. Different thoughts, words, and opinions swimming around inside you and when youre forced to produce a response.. you shake up whats inside and give an answer that has no real meaning, no real foundation. When things started getting too jumbled, I just have to force myself in front of my journal or computer, and sit there until words flow or stumble out of me. Its a necessary part of me.

Honestly, I dont know what to type about. I just keep thinking over and over, Jesus, You are so good to me. You teach me so well.

This season has broken me. Turned me  into a pool of tears, actually. Its not dramatic, its just the work of my Beloved actually. I sit here with tears streaming down my face and a heart aching so badly that I swear its a physical pain. About a year or so ago I prayed that the Lord would pull me closer to Him, remove all distractions and take me deeper into Love. Sometimes, I regret that prayer… or wonder what the hell I was thinking. Because He is faithful to my heart, and faithful to answer the call of His child….. He most certainly has pulled me closer to Him… but I didnt realize the distractions He was going to remove were things that were very very very very dear to my heart. And now I sit here.. currently empty-handed and lonely beyond belief… and yet so honored… because the more things that are taken out of my life.. the more I know He loves me.

This morning I opened up to the book of Hosea.. one of my favorite books. As I came upon chapter two.. I realized exactly where my life is in this moment… I am walled in. I am hedged in with thorns, unable to find my way. I am Gomer who has run after all other lovers.. thinking that her happiness has been provided by her independence and skills of survival. I am the woman who has found that all other means of love is but a fleeting adventure that leaves a residue of pain. As I read, I sighed heavily in relief. A smile cracked through my tears as the Lord began to paint for me a reason to my suffering. A purpose to my pain.

Everything I have attached to in the past two years has been slowly pried out of my hands. And I mean everything….And yet, as I sit here aching in pain… I have never felt so loved before in my life. I have never felt so pursued, so chased after.

I am not even in the wilderness yet… I am still being hedged in…

Jesus desires me SO much that He has chosen to see me walled in pain and hurt so that I can discover the truth that His love is the only thing that brings true happiness.. true joy.

 

So this pain… is worth every second.

 

And I dont know why I cant leave that sentence as the end to this blog. Even while writing this.. the Lord has revealed to me that one of my biggest fears is that I will never become an inspiration to others. I think thats why I have such a hard time blogging. I try to make every word count because I know more than just my eyes will read this. This blog is raw… and not that beautiful. I dont even know if it makes sense. And my first inclination is to delete it and sit here until something absolutely jaw-dropping jolts through my keyboard. But no.. I know that this is where I am.. and its all I have. So here ya go… published.

Lamentations 3: Remembering Promises

Jeremiah, the “weeping” and close-knitted prophet to the Lord, has found himself among ruins and desolation due to his own prophetic voice. We find him crying out to the Lord in the book of Lamentations. But chapter 3 of Lamentations has an interesting twist. Here is Jeremiah, wandering about the ruins of Judah lamenting over such grief and tragedy. He feels utterly broken by the Lord’s wrath. He begins the chapter by calling himself “the man who has seen affliction by the rod of His wrath.” (3:1). He speaks on behalf of the broken people who are drowning in tragedy. His depression causes him to accuse the Lord (Lamentations 3:7-18). His accusations against the Lord are personal, like most of the ones we make today against His heart. Jeremiah is so crushed with depression he seems to almost regret his prophecies. Although he recounts that all of this was the Lord’s will in Lamentations 2:17, “The Lord has done what He planned, He has fulfilled his word, which he decreed long ago…” he stills finds himself pouring all fault for his pain on the Lord in 3:7-18. We do this. We know the path God has for us… sometimes that path is not of an easy road. More like a rocky mountain climb that brings pain and suffering. We take upon the less traveled road because of our initial perspective. We, at that time, are living for the finished work of Christ. We are living for and from eternity. So we start the Lord’s will for our lives, for that reason, in hopes of attaining a deeper intimacy and revelation of the Lord. But once the going gets tough, we realize that this was not what we expected, not what we foretold ourselves before the first step. The Lord must have forgotten me. Does He not see that I am on this path for Him? Why has he forsaken me? Or like Jeremiah, “He has walled me in so I cannot escape; he has weighed me down with chains. Even when I call out or cry for help, He shuts out my prayer. He has barred my way with blocks of stone; He has made my paths crooked” (Lamentations 3:7-9). Our depression and lamenting swallows us whole, blocking out the goal of suffering… to attain glory, to bring Heaven to Earth. We lose focus of His heart and swallow and digest the lie of the enemy… It was a trap. The Lord does not need me. He has left me with pain. He has abandoned me. His will does not involve my heart. This must be my purpose, to suffer all the days of my life in the courts of a merciless God. Or some of us might feel guilty. What did I do wrong, Lord? Show me the trespassing I have committed, the sins I have made that would force You to leave me in rubble and despair.

“Like a bear lying in wait, like a lion in hiding, He dragged me from the path and mangled me and left me without help. He drew His bow and made me the target for His arrows. He pierced my heart with arrows from His quiver. I became the laughingstock of all my people; they mock me in song all day long. He has filled me with bitter herbs and sated me with gall. He has broken my teeth with gravel; He has trampled me in the dust. I have been deprived of peace; I have forgotten what prosperity is. So I say, “My splendor is gone and all that I had hoped from the Lord” (Lamentations 3: 13-18).

Jeremiah accuses the Lord of depriving him of peace. And then at the end of verse 18 we find Jeremiah giving up. He cements his depression deeper in his spirit by saying that he has lost all hope in the Lord. All hope is truly lost in Jeremiah. He has forgotten the plan of the Lord. He can only see the pain in front of him and not the end result, the perspective of the Lord. So it seems as if Jeremiah has completely given into his misery, his surrounding tragedies.

How many times have we done this? How many times have we ventured in the direction the Lord has called us only to give up or back track because the pain has hardened our hearts to the prize at the end? How many times have we focused solely on the pain and tragedy that comes after full sacrifice that we stop the flow of the Kingdom by accusing Him of forgetting us? I have done everything You have asked! I have prayed, fasted, and sacrificed. I have loved unconditionally and humbled myself in Your presence. But yet You still allow such pain as this to encounter my heart! Have you forgotten me, Lord? Am I not worthy?

What brings us to such a place that we cannot see anything but abandonment and rejection? Expectation. Expectations on the Lord put Him in a box. We have already envisioned the journey ahead to be that of some suffering and stretching but full of deep oceans of revelation, high mountains of peace and intimacy, and valleys of war and victory. Yes, these are things Jesus desires for us to attain, but He is not us. His mind is not like ours. A heavenly perspective does not have a time frame nor does it tend to the expectations of man. “He works all things out for the good of those who love Him” (Romans 8:28). But how He works these things out is not what most of us would have had in mind. It might include deep painful situations, heavy laden burdens on our hearts, or simply a restful season instead of a fiery breakthrough. But He knows He can reveal so much more revelation, love, grace, mercy, strength, endurance, and many other attributes of His heart to us than if He were to follow our mundane, “comfort-zoned” path. He does not delight in our suffering, but yet He loves us beyond our comfort zone. He desires for us to be so clothed in glory that He will take us through fire if it means the product of an eternity with Him.

The Lord understands our weaknesses. His heart is postured to help us even in the middle of our accusations against Him because He is the father who sees the end result even when His child fights because they have forgotten. In between verses 20 and 21, something happens to Jeremiah’s spirit. The Lord encounters him and does something very simple. He reminds Jeremiah.

“Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope. Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion, therefore I will wait on Him.” The Lord is good to those whose hope is in Him, to the one who seeks him…” (Lamentations 3: 21-25).

And for the rest of chapter 3 of Lamentations, Jeremiah recalls and remembers the goodness of the Lord, the mercies that God rains down on us in the midst of tragedy.

“Though He brings grief, He will show compassion, so great is His unfailing love. For He does not willingly bring affliction or grief to the children of men” (Lamentations 3: 32 & 33).

“I called on Your name, O Lord, from the depths of the pit. You heard my plea: ‘Do not close your ears to my cry for relief.’ You came near when I called you, and you said, ‘Do not fear.’ O Lord, You took up my case; you redeemed my life” (Lamentations 3: 55-59).

We must destroy all preconceived notions and expectations we have on the Almighty. We must humble ourselves to His ways and remember His promises. That He loves us with an everlasting Love. He will never leave us nor forsake us. He wants us to reign with Him in all situations, heartbreak or success, love or pain. We must renew our minds as Paul says in Romans 12. As facilitators of His heart to this world, we must sit with Him in the heavenly realms through all days, on Earth and Eternity. If we do not, we will never stomach the sweet burden of His heart for this world. We must declare ourselves out of the dungeon, the pit, the mire of depression and misery. We must remember His undying faithfulness.

Loving Truth.

Abounding in love is what He is. Gentle is His heart.

Have you ever been caught up with the overwhelming reality of how much Jesus, Yeshua, loves you? To the point of an emotional release, a physical reaction to the goodness of His heart? Story of my life this week. There have been countless encounters with His love that have felt like a sucker punch to the stomach and shortness of breath. It feels like I need to weep for weeks and jump for joy all of the time. Its a reality that I choose to live in for the rest of my life.

The situations I worry my heart with seem so insignificant in the presence of His overflowing heart. Life seems so difficult, so impossible until I finally stop, become honest with my heart, and allow Him to speak truth over my life. Why do I choose to live in fear when all I have to do is live in the reality of Glory? Its insane, if I do say so. Honesty truly activates God’s provision. If I can come before my Daddy, hand over the truth that these fears are eating me alive and that I can no longer survive in anxiety… He is forever willing to take them off my hands, off my heart and cradle me in His gigantic, befitting arms. He smells so sweet.

The truth is that I am worthy of a righteous, pure, and perfect love because of who created me. His promise over my life is to live in freedom, wholeness, and all things Glory. This promise is my destiny. It is nonnegotiable. The contract was signed with the blood of the Cross. All I have to do is choose to live in it. My destiny is to reign with my Father for all eternity… in any situation. I am to reign with him in the midst of heartbreak, tragedy, happiness, sadness, and any other day of my life. The situations I am in are only another opportunity to reign with dignity and love with Him. If I am not reigning with the Lord, then I am not living in reality. Instead I am living in some self constructed bubble of fear or complacency. How do I live out my destiny? By eating like Jesus. What was His diet? Food, the Will of God, the Word of God, and the finished Work of God. I have to endulge my heart and spirit every moment of my life in these four components and always live for the finished work of the Lord, the wholeness of the kingdom. Glory on earth as it is in heaven. If I do this, my destiny will be activated. Man, His grace is sufficient.

The Lord receives glory when we receive love for ourselves, when we receive love for our brothers and sisters. Wow. How generous is He? Oh how in love He is with us! All He wants is to break bread with us everyday. To hear our hearts and take care of every need. He has called us to reside in freedom and hope. To rescue the oppressed and to bring love to the edges of the earth. All we have to do is have a little patience with our hearts. He never grows tired of fighting for us. He doesnt grow weary when it takes so much time. He is not grading our hearts. All He wants is purity in heart. He is such a good good father, husband, friend, and king. There is no better love than this. Let this become your reality. Its so simple.