Excerpts from the Diary

Dear Diary,

Wow. I don't think I have written those words since middle school. But my heart is full, and you've been my trusted confidant for so many years.

I feel so lost right now. Like I'm living a square shaped life, and trying to fit it into circle shaped circumstances. I feel like, I just need to go somewhere where I'm the stranger for a little while. Find a nice quiet, country pub and inn I can work in. Meet people. Discover their stories. Rest. Figure out who I am without having to fight the identity people are throwing on me. To be somewhere, where I am not having to live up to their expectations, but simply learning who I am, wholly in Christ. No social, familial, or work pressures. Just me.

I have been encouraged to write a book, and I confess I am tempted to try my hand at it. For real this time. My life isn't Rory Gilmore by any means, but hey, maybe I have something to say that someone needs to hear. Kate, as we're calling her, is the friend who suggested I write it. She offered that perhaps a detailed script of my life isn't what I need to write- but rather, a book of quotes that people can relate to. One liners or small paragraphs that speak from human soul to human soul- what better place to connect? There are so many feelings that so many people can identify with, and all it takes is one person to say it, for a thousand people to say "I thought I was alone, but now I know I am not."

I think if I ever did publish it, I would publish under the name Ellen. Simply because I love the anonymity it has brought me. I want to build Ellen, and become her. She is the goal for me. She is who I want to be. Ellen is bold, daring, and strong in her faith. She exudes Christ from every pore of her being. She broken, but twice as strong with the mending. She is who people want to be friends with, whom men want to woo and marry, and who young girls look up to.

I am trying as hard as I can to become Ellen. Courageous Ellen. But for now, it's just a name and a goal.

Thanks for listening diary. You always were so good at that <3

Xo,
Ellen

Dear Kate

Dear Kate,

No, your "real name" isn't Kate, but I wanted to be able to talk about you on my blog. My blog where I am Ellen, you became Kate. I confess I didn't even think about the name, it just popped into my head. "Kate" fits you so well. So Kate you are.

But I learned something after I had settled on this name for you. Do you know what Kate means?

Kate means pure.

Oh sweet Kate, you haven't felt pure in such a long time. How perfect of a name for you, to remind you always, that you are, in fact, pure.

You look in the mirror for your soul, and all you see is your darkness, your past, your grime. You don't see pure. Oh but when I look at you, I see redeemed. I see radiant. I see healed. I see whole. I see pure.

"We are all broken, that's how the light gets in." {Ernest Hemmingway}

You were broken, but you are mended, and the light shines through, dear Kate. Dear Kate! My closest and longest friend.

May you always know and rejoice in the purity He has given back to you. May you relish in His mercy and grace, and may you share that with others.

Find joy, sweet Kate, because you are pure. You do not bare the weight of your past any longer. He has made you pure. And you are lovely.

Xo,

Ellen

Pain of recent days

Do you ever just feel quiet in the valleys? Sometimes, I feel like I have agonized and screamed out in pain so much that I can't even speak, and I become very quiet.

I've had a very painful few weeks. Relationships I had high hopes for ended, circumstances with others became difficult, awkward, and tense, and loss I prayed so hard against, all became facets in some very dark days.

I haven't gone anywhere, but I have found myself very quiet, I have pulled into myself, instead of expressing myself- because it hurts so much less.

I chastised myself for being so unwilling to be vulnerable, but I don't think I can handle the possibility of being torn to shreds right now. My soul is feeling so weary that I'm keeping it kind of locked up. And when I do let it out, I can assure you, it is a most unpleasant sight. I am so very clumsy and careless in what I say. I've torn someone to shreds over something kind of trivial, simply because everything else was so pressing. 

Pray for me, readers. I covet them. 

Dear Lost Girl

Dear Lost Girl,

Lost Girl. 

Friend, this title is very befitting for you. You are a young lady, trapped between the rights of womanhood and the pleasures of childhood. And for the confusion in your heart, I do not judge you. I understand. I've been there. But when we came to face the choice to grow up and take up responsibility or to grow in age yet maintain our childish ways, I think we chose two very different paths. While I stepped into a world of harsh reality, you sought solace in your very own Neverland. And after the cruelty that is taxes, I envied you for not being tied down by them. 

Lost Girl, we've been friends for a number of years and at times discussed virtually everything. There was a time in our history when communication was open between us and faults were confessed and forgiven and we spoke truth to one another and we prayed together, laughed together, cried together, and spent hours building a bond that I truly believed would last a lifetime. 

I shared my life with you. You shared your life with me. I truly believed that nothing would break that bond. 

But time and space and choices eroded what once seemed forever strong. 

I also truly believed that I would never stop loving you. 

Lost Girl, I haven't. And by the Strength of Christ, I never will. His love, for you, is eternal. And I may not be able to be the person that shows His love to you in person right now, but in my heart, I will always love you. You will forever be a person I think of and pray for. There will come a day when the memory of our friendship brings me a smile. But for now, it just brings pain. What happened? You break my heart. Over and over again. It hurts to love you. It wrecks my soul to love you. 

Know that I will never stop loving you. Know that my ear is always open for you to fill. And know that nothing you confess will blot out the Light of Christ. 

But Lost Girl, I am writing for a purpose much greater than all of this. 

I am asking you, one more time. Pleading with you. Begging you. 

Cling to Christ. 

Run to Him! 

Soak in Him!

Relish in His healing for you! 

Dance in His joy!

Wear the badge of honor that says "I am HIS". And wear it with pride!

Please, dear friend! Understand this- I can't hold onto Christ for the both of us, I need two hands just for me. I am too weak to hold you to Him too. But where I am weak, He is strong. 

Where others in your life have come short, He is enough. 

Where you have been attacked, He is your shelter. 

Where you have been broken, He is your healer. 

When others have let you down, He will never leave your side. 

Where nothing else has satisfied forever, He is your delight. 

Where others have demanded too much of your heart, He provides all you need. 

Lost Girl, don't be lost anymore. Where you are searching is dark and deadly, when what you need is full of abundant Life. 

I'm not going anywhere. My number is the same. But I'm going to let you be. My words have fallen on deaf ears and a cold heart. It's up to you. But please- friend! Choose life! Choose Christ!

Love,
Ellen

Panic Attacks and Hope in Christ

Yesterday was a bad day. Very little, if anything, went the way I needed or planned for it to.

A few days ago, I talked about how the guy that I have been talking to has seemed to walk away from the conversations. Which is fine, in addition to the fact that I walked into this knowing it might not go anywhere, I have since seen some things come from him that are qualities I wouldn't want in a partner or future spouse. So it's better that it ended before it got started, but just the same, those feelings of inadequacy sneak up and whisper little, believable lies into your ears until a little piece of you dies under them.

"What did I do wrong?"

"What's wrong with me?"

"Did I push too hard, ask the wrong questions or not show enough interest?"

I've both resolved and keep on waiting. Part of me keeps looking for that little red notification, letting me know I'm not the last thing on his mind. And the other part of me is just praying that at this point, he doesn't even respond. I am finally resolved enough, that I don't want him to- but not enough that if he did, I don't think I would be able to stand my ground firmly.

With all of this swirling on in my mind, I was given some oh so helpful comments from people like "it's not the end of the world" and "guys are just jerks" and "you're just sad because you didn't get a boyfriend out of it."

Working the kind of hours I am, I just haven't had time to process. And I am a process or fall apart kind of person. So you can easily deduct that, I fell apart.

I decided to take part of the day off, and get some rest. But instead of just going home and having a cup of hot tea and a good rest like a normal person, I had a full blown, hyperventilating, screaming and crying, couldn't breathe panic attack (while driving) on the way home. I would try to slow my breathing and I would almost get control, and then I would lose it all over again. It as almost like I couldn't even control what my body was doing. It was just happening, and all I could do was let it.

I have found that for me, panic attacks don't come in association with something sexual or threatening (but I haven't been in a lot of very threatening situations, so I want to be careful when saying that) In general however, I have found that my panic attacks come when it feels like a lot is out of my control. Yesterday? Everything felt out of my control.

And it was the worst. panic attack. ever. I have never had one that bad, and would love to never have one that bad again.

In the last five or so years, the more I have talked with people about abuse, and about the repercussions of it, the more I have realized that:

a) I am not alone in these feelings
b) the "side effects" are not limited to sexual, or threatening situations- and sometimes unrelated issues are caused from the abuse.

That last one is the one that's the big "YES" thing for me, because I thought for so long, that all of these seemingly unrelated things were just making me a complicated, messy person. And in some ways, yes, that's true. But that's not the whole truth. The whole truth is I can identify the point in my life that these things are bourn out from. I have identifiable reasons for why I am the way I am. And because of that, I have very clear things I can lay down at the feet of the Father, and for that, I am so thankful.

My heart aches for those who haven't had the healing people around them that they need to find the solace after hell. I know I haven't always, and I have had to seek it out, but there are times, that the Father just places them in my path, even when I am not looking, and something is said that brings me one step closer to a healing.

Abuse has left me feeling like an incomplete person. But Jesus is faithful friends, and He wants to be that completion for us. He doesn't want His people to stay broken- that's why He is the great Physician- He believes in healing and wholeness! There is hope in him, dear, broken friends. So maybe you didn't suffer sexual abuse, maybe it was verbal, or emotional, or physical. Maybe you haven't suffered abuse at all- brokenness comes in so many forms.

I'm so thankful Jesus loved me enough to die for me, because there are times, I don't think I am worthy. And friends, we aren't. But He is gracious. And for this, we must be thankful, and praise Him!

~Ellen

An Open Letter to Nikki Leonti Edgar

**DISCLAIMER** As with so many stories (here on the heals of election is a good example) we don't know the whole story. But the digging I have found suggests the information I chose to include is accurate. If however, someone knows something I don't, please feel free to comment and correct any information I may have misquoted!

Dear Nikki,

I recently came across your story, and I have a few thoughts. So where you, the CCM industry, or anyone else may never see this, I wanted to say it.

For those of you who may not recognize her name, it's because we never got the chance. I understand the story as follows: she won a singing contest and therefore a label deal with a Christian recording company. At the peak of her rapid rise to fame, she found herself in a situation she probably never imagined: pregnant and only 18. Since she was unmarried, the label dropped her- immediately.

So to you, Nikki, I first and foremost want to say, I am a Bible believing Christian. I still wholeheartedly align myself with the church. However, I think the Christians who were responsible for making the decision to drop you were sorely mistaken. Countless others before you found themselves in sinful situations I'm sure they never planned to be in either. Divorces, affairs, homosexual relationships, pornography addictions...though some of these people may have been dropped from a record deal, their whole careers were not flushed. I feel you were, however. And I'm so sorry.

We, as the church, as Christians, preach prolife, which yes, I am so thankful and glad you chose life for your beautiful daughter! But the church who preaches it, in any circumstance, should have helped you- and I am sorry they did not. We are so quick to judge those who have thrown their children away, and yet punished you for yours. You sinned, Nikki, but I am so sorry at the stones they threw. Sin must be dealt with, but I'm sorry for the way you were treated. You should have had people come to you in love, and if they did or not, I don't know. But it seems like it was a rash reaction to drop you.

We can point fingers, play the "what if?" and the "they should have..." game all day long, but I am so thankful you are still using your voice! Don't stop!

There is just one more thing- I don't know you (although I would love to meet you someday!) and I don't know what kind of resolve you have or haven't found, but I ask on behalf of the church, for your forgiveness. This situation wasn't handled the way it should have been, but I pray that you find it in your heart to forgive and love the church, and it's people once again!

Sincerely,

Ellen

Are we talking? Are we done?

Stick around long enough, and you'll find that one of the things I hate most about being 20-something in USA today, is dating.

The terms, the lack of commitment, the waiting and wondering, the acting-like-you're-15-till-you're-30 mentality. There is literally nothing about dating that makes me excited. Except of course, actually dating.

That said, recently I've been talking to someone. For those unfamiliar with the millennial terms we use to create labels without commitment, talking is this weird stage before you actually start dating. Its basically what you used to do when you first started dating, but it's our way of doing that without exclusively dating that person. Options and freedom, people, options and freedom.

At this point, I really hope you're catching the sarcasm I am saturating this post with, because, are you ready for it?

NOW THE GUY IS GHOSTING ME. Ever heard that one? Maybe not. Let me explain.

My generation so lacks commitment, we can't even finish talking, we just sort of...stop. Suddenly the responses go from hours to days to weeks before an answer comes rolling in. Eventually? It stops altogether. All because we can't just say "hey I don't think this is going to work out".

It's called ghosting. Its a way of slipping out without saying it. It's literally leaving without commitment! Are you as flabbergasted as I am at the absurdity of this culture? Well just the same, that's the boat I'm in. I feel I can safely say we were talking, even though there was never a DTR(haha this means, you talk about if you're talking talking, or just friends chatting. gosh I hate being this age in this generation). But now I am fairly certain he's ghosting me, so that's awesome.

This was one of my first times kind of going here, and I'll be honest, it took more out of me than I thought it would. It takes a lot of energy to be vulnerable with people! I imagine it will be a little while before I am ready to go back here again.

Pray for me, y'all.

~Ellen

Call Me Ellen

As I have already talked openly about, my blog is my place to be transparent, stay anonymous, and become courageous.

But I wanted to have a name. So for reasons I won't be disclosing here, I came up with the name Ellen. I jumped in the shower and mulled over the name. (God love her, but this has nothing to do with Ellen Degeneres)

I liked it, and it worked for me. Simple, normal, yet unique. Things I want to be.

But since I didn't want to pick a name without total meaning, I decided to look it up:

"In Anglo-Saxon the meaning of the name Ellen is: Courage." (Source)

I'm not a courageous person. I'm nervous, I'm scared, I'm terrified. I don't think I am beautiful, I don't think I am smart, and I don't think I have anything of value to offer the world. But here the name I picked, unknowingly was telling me that's not true.

You may never know my real name, but that's ok.

Just call me Ellen.

An Open Letter to the Church: Abuse is There

 **WARNING** This post addresses sexual abuse and may cause triggers. This isn't meant to be a scare tactic, it's a wake up call.

Dear Church,

I grew up in church.

Every Sunday, every Wednesday night dinner, every VBS. Every fundraiser function, children's event, or family retreat: we were there. I was raised this way, my parents were raised this way and I dare say most if not all of my grandparents were raised this way. I grew up in the epitome of Christian culture. Anyone on the outside looking in wouldn't ever know something was amiss. Truthfully, it took me a long time to know something was "amiss".

"Amiss" puts it too lightly: It took me years to learn enough about myself and the world around me to know that a piece of my childhood had gone horribly wrong. And not one person from the church would have known.

Why? Because the church at large is ignorant. I believe, by choice. WAKE UP CHURCH, abuse is happening within your walls!

The church is ignorant by choice? That's pretty harsh, isn't it? No. It isn't. In the weeks, months and years following my realization, and beginning piecing everything together, I was trying to work through a lot. I reached out for anything, I sought, I begged and I pleaded. I was grasping for anything to help me sort through this darkness I had just been thrust into. I wanted a hand to hold, to help me sort through the tragedies in my mind. I told many youth leaders and friends. I was shuffled off, or at best was "dealt with" in one, neat, tidy conversation. The rest of my family was working through things as well, and it all just, felt so dark. There was no one giving me light. I was just lost, and alone. A little girl, existing in my big, dark, and now abusive world.

All I wanted, needed, and begged for was someone to help me sort through the voices I had screaming in my head. Voices of guilt, shame, and darkness in general...they plagued me. At 15, I just needed someone to speak truth to me. I still need someone to speak truth to me. But when I looked, begged, and asked, there was no one.

The church was, and in so many ways still is, ill-equipped to deal with sexual abuse. Harder still was and is the fact that so often children in the church suffer abuse at the hands of people who's faces are regulars in the church.

I don't have an answer to the problem, but please start by recognizing that it is a problem. There are children in your churches, suffering abuse at the hands of someone they should be able to trust.

What are you doing for them? You have an opportunity to protect the least of these. Protect them.

Joy comes now, not "when..."

I finally got a new job.

I had been working the same one for years, and I really thought that everything in my life would change once my job description did. I thought for sure that more friends, more opportunities, and more money waited at the end of my next submitted application.

It didn't.

The long and short of it? The grass isn't greener on the other side. I started the new job, and found that the long and somewhat brutal hours were incredibly taxing. The pay is meh and the days are long and sometimes full of rude, smelly, or belligerent customers.

In other news, I've been talking to someone. ("talking").

I have waited for so long to be here, in this exciting, on-the-edge-of-all-things-new point of my life. And yet here I am, and after a time, the job feels like more than I signed up for, and pre-relationship blues nag at my mind.

Why isn't it enough? I thought it would be enough!

It can't be enough.

These things never promised to satisfy, and if they did, they lied. These things don't satisfy because they aren't designed to. Our hearts and our souls were created to be satisfied by something, Someone, so much more.

Our souls crave eternity. At some point, for most people, you look in the mirror and ask yourself, "what the heck am I doing?" The job sucks, the house isn't right, the friends abandoned you, the kids left home, and your marriage is falling through the cracks.

We can't truly enjoy any of these things until we learn that our Joy comes first from Christ.

Paul says in Philippians 4:11,  "I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances..."

When Christ is our source of joy, in addition to the fact that we are able to love the people and enjoy them more, we no longer view these other blessings in our lives as things we deserve, but rather as gifts He has chosen to give us.

Oh friends, we don't deserve any of this.

The new job, the new relationship, the new house, the new baby. It doesn't matter how long or hard you have prayed, in light of eternity, we don't deserve them.

But we get them. So make Jesus your first JOY, so that when you get these things, you can truly enjoy them.

Otherwise, we have put our stock in joy in the gift rather than the Giver.

I love the end of the quote "the grass is greener where you water it."

Find joy where you are, no matter where you are, and then we may count it all as pure joy! (See James 1:2)