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When Frustration Gives In to Blessings
I've been frustrated. Beyond frustrated at times. In the middle of the summer I decided to start taking my blog more seriously and switch to self-hosted WordPress. At the time I was using Squarespace for design and hosting; I had even purchased a custom domain name. I put a lot of time and energy into my decision of when and how to switch to Wordpress. When I was finally ready to go live with my new website, I discovered that there was a waiting period before I could officially transfer my domain name. While www.realisticallyoptimistic.com would get a visitor to my blog, the URL would change to something funky was they navigated away from the landing page.
I (not so) patiently waited 23 more days until I could transfer the domain name, only to find out that I had to reassign administrative rights. Which took another 7 days. Only to find out that they "give me" another 7 days to "change my mind" before processing my request for a change. I was frustrated. Beyond frustrated at times.
I was pretty discouraged and wasn't going to post to any of my usual blog hops that week. One day I decided to check in on one of my favorite blog hops and discovered that I was a featured blogger. The next day I saw my post featured on another blog hop and the next week posts were featured on 2 more parties. I was elated.
First of all, I never expected these posts to reach so many people. Even though I hope my writing will touch at least one person, I never expect it to make an impact within a community. I always considered that hope to be on nearly the same level of my childhood dream to be president.
Second of all, I suddenly realized that there was a purpose to my frustration. Had I been able to transfer my domain name in a timely fashion, all of the links to my featured posts would be broken. No additional people would be able to access my posts. The very thing that nearly caused me to pull out my hair had suddenly become a massive blessing.
I've realized that this is not an isolated situation. God has used frustrating or painful circumstances to bless me more than once. He strips away the things I cling to the most in order to draw me closer to Him. This usually involves Him causing me to look at myself in the mirror; to see the positive and negative aspects of myself and allow Him to heal the broken pieces and make something beautiful out of my mess. People call it "beauty for ashes", but I'm coming to understand that life doesn't always have to turn to ash before it can be turned over to the Lord and made beautiful.
The simplest things can cause us the most frustration, yet they can also be used to bring us a greater joy. It's easy for me to see my blogging as frivolous at times. A waste of time, money, and that priceless thing called energy. But then I see the amazing ways God is using it to teach me lessons, bring richness to my life, and touch others in a broad way. To do something I could never do in isolation. Never do on my own.
I'd like to thank my friends, family, readers, and fellow bloggers for making this hobby a truly rewarding experience. For giving purpose to something I love. For being a part of God's plan and the lessons He's teaching me on a daily basis. We all have something to learn and we all have something to teach. Thank you for being faithful. Even those of you who don't realize that's what you're doing.
What frustrating experience has ultimately left you with a blessing?
What life lessons have you been taught through frustration?
We All Need Therapy
I spend a lot of time in my car these days and most of that time is spent driving to and from therapy. If you've read any of my previous blog posts, you've probably realized that I'm in desperate need of therapy. "What kind?" you may be asking. Well, there's the obvious physical therapy for my hip injury. Then there's the emotional therapy to help work through the day-to-day journey of this thing called life. And finally there's the spiritual therapy that helps to heal the wounds of the past so that I can enjoy my future.
Physical Therapy
Physical therapy is essentially the use of physical methods (rather than medication or surgery) to heal an injury. It's physical rehabilitation. My physical therapist wants to help eliminate my hip pain and he works wholeheartedly to do so. It's a lot of work for both him and I. He has to think of methods that will solve the problem and I have to commit to the process. It takes a lot of time and energy. There is pain and there are tears. We both shake our heads in frustration at times. But we share and believe in a common goal: to restore my body to its pre-injury functionality. Or at least get as close as we can
Emotional Therapy
Emotional therapy means something different to every person. I use emotional therapy to help me work with through present circumstances. It's mostly talk therapy. My therapist listens while I talk. She offers suggestions here and there, but mostly she just provides direction. As I talk and reflect, I usually come up with some sort of resolution or epiphany. We figure out alternatives and action plans, then she holds me accountable to my commitments. We don't seek to eliminate the highs and lows that life brings, but we work together as a team to restore balance in my life.
Spiritual Therapy
Spiritual therapy is not really a common term. In fact, I might have just invented it myself. But I think spiritual therapy is something we're all seeking, whether we know it or not. Physical and emotional therapy are things that enable us to better function in the present and future. Spiritual therapy takes things to a new level; it allows for the healing of our hearts, which frees us from our past. It's the most elusive but the most valuable. My time at Mercy Ministries was a period of intense spiritual therapy for me, but it is something that must remain an important part of my daily routine. Currently, my spiritual therapy includes Bible study, prayer, journaling, and involvement in our local Celebrate Recovery ministry. I surrender my life to Jesus and together we work towards freedom.
...On the Road...
On one of my therapy road trips I got to thinking. There really isn't much difference between the different kinds of therapy that we find ourselves needing throughout our life journey. And I only listed a few. As I reflected on my experience, I came up with some therapy criteria:
Therapy involves more than one person. Whether you need a physical therapist, a "licensed clinical professional counselor," or Jesus...you can't give yourself therapy.
The goal of therapy is restoration. Whether you're seeking physical healing, emotional balance, or healing from a past experience...we're hoping to restore something that we lost along the way.
Therapy requires commitment. You have to carve time out of your life and dedicate it to seeking healing and freedom from past damage. It's going to require time and energy. Make it a priority.
Therapy is something that must be maintained. Keep doing your exercises. Keep talking through your struggles to implement solutions. Keep studying God's Word, praying, and journaling. If we don't actively engage in these therapeutic practices, our healing will not be complete and lasting.
I've gotten to the point that I don't see these road trips as an inconvenience to my everyday life. They enhance my life. My life is better when I am engaging in the therapeutic process. Participating in therapy means that you are an active participant in life itself. You're not sitting on the sidelines; you're playing the game. You're fighting. And that's a good thing.
What is your "go-to" form of therapy? Yoga? Running? Chocolate? A phone date with your BFF?
My Secret Weapons
Several weeks ago I published a post about my Influenster Vitality VoxBox. Influenster is a community of people who test, review, and promote products as they see fit. If you qualify for one of their campaigns, they mail you a box containing the product(s) you will be trying. Thanks to all my friends and followers, I received my first VoxBox rather quickly and it was full of wonderful goodies. Once you receive your box, you are given a task list: write reviews, promote via social media, take pictures, etc. The best way to qualify for future Influenster product campaigns is to complete the tasks and earn more badges.
I've completed 9 out of the 10 tasks required to earn the Vitality VoxBox badge and for awhile I was just going to throw in the towel on the whole "Influenster thing." You see, the last task is to "Share the secret weapon to your #BikiniReadyLifestyle." One of the products in the Vitality VoxBox was a sample of Bikini Ready Energy Gummies. The name is pretty much self-explanatory: the gummies claim to boost metabolism and increase energy to make your body bikini ready.
I've fought hard to walk in recovery from an eating disorder and I know that several of my readers are fighting similar battles. Life and death battles. It seemed irresponsible of me to write a blog post on a product that plays into the struggle of so many men and women. So I wasn't going to do it.
But as I completed more and more tasks, this one task was all that stood between me and my badge (I know this sounds a little bit dramatic, but go with it). So I read the task over again: "Share the secret weapon to your #BikiniReadyLifestyle." As is commonly the case, I was making something simple into something quite complicated. The task wasn't asking me to endorse a product I didn't believe in; it was asking me to share my secret. What a great opportunity to share a piece of my journey with the blogging community in an unexpected way!
To most people, being "bikini ready" usually means being thin and tan. Not to me. To me, being "bikini ready" means being comfortable in my own skin; confident and strong. Plus, the whole tan thing...I don't get it. Everybody knows that if you already have a tan on day one of pool season, you did not get it naturally. I go to the pool to get a tan. If you already have a tan, why are you at the pool? But I digress. Today's mission is to reverse your concept of what "bikini ready" really means with...
My 5 Secret Weapons to a #BikiniReadyLifestyle
Prayer. I believe in the power of prayer. No journey toward self-improvement will be successful without God's intimate involvement in the details of each and every step. Prayer covers a multitude of weapons needed to conquer a battle. Whether your struggle is to gain, lose, or maintain weight, you will not experience victory without the healing power of God. Ephesians 6:10-16 talks about putting on the armor of God. When you're fighting a battle, you're going to need some armor. And God's armor is the best you'll ever find.
Positive Affirmations/Truth Statements. We feed ourselves lies day in and day out. It's habit. "I'm stupid." "I'm ugly." "I can't do anything right." "I'm worthless." NO, NO, NO! It's time we start speaking positive truth into our lives! "I am smart." "I am beautiful." "I am enough." "I am worthy." My personal favorite is this: "I am a daughter of the King." I simply can't say the words without smiling in my soul.
A Support System. We like to pretend that we can do this on our own. We want to be independent and prove ourselves. But the truth is that we're wired to need each other. When we're fighting a battle, we need people who will keep us accountable, yet encourage us when we need it. We need people who believe in us and who are willing to fight with us from time to time.
Balance. At first this number read "A Balanced Diet." But as I started writing, I realized that the real concept that I was trying to communicate was the importance of balance. We need some balance in our lives, people. When our lives are out of balance we start to grasp desperately at things that give us a feeling of control. Food and exercise are 2 of the most common things we latch onto and it can manifest itself in a variety of ways. We should always strive for balance in life, food, exercise, sleep, work, and play.
Vigilance. This is so important, yet frequently overlooked. We tend to celebrate once we've achieved our goals and we should! But the work does not end after the celebration; we need to be vigilant in all we do. We cannot become complacent or content. We must keep a watchful eye out for anything that threatens to steal away our freedom, for the battle is even harder the second or third time we fight it.
So these are the things I focus on in my attempt to feel comfortable in my own skin. I want to be confident and strong, not thin and tan. I don't care so much whether I'm bikini ready, so much as I'm ready. Ready for whatever life brings; the good and the bad, the daunting and the serene, the laughter and the tears.
Dear Lord,
Make me strong, courageous, confident, and ready for all that you have in store for me.
Amen.
What is your secret weapon for a #BikiniReadyLifestyle?
Let's talk real life today, guys. I'm hungry for a conversation!
“Summer Suits You”
For most people, writer's block comes when they can't think of anything to say. I am not most people. I experience writer's block most frequently when I have a lot to say. There are so many ideas. There is so much emotion. The passion is overwhelming. I don't even know where or how to start.
I'm not going to tip-toe around the point of this post because I have a lot to say and I don't want to risk losing your attention: I am taking this semester off from school.
The official term is "taking a hiatus". I like this term; "I'm taking a hiatus" sounds and feels a lot better than "yeah, I decided to drop out." Hey, I'm a writer; words are important to me like that.
My hip injury has plagued me for nearly 10 years now. I first fractured my femur in January of 2005 and I've always told people that not coming home to take care of myself was one of the biggest mistakes I've ever made. I didn't want to miss out or lose momentum, so I kept on pushing through and I've been doing it ever since.
As luck would have it, I somehow re-injured my hip last week. It's not going to require surgery, but the recovery process is going to be long. Most of my surgeries have occurred mid-semester. It's easy to push through when you're halfway there, thoroughly invested in your coursework, and have a reliable reputation as a decent student. But I don't have any of that right now. I'm a week in and it feels like it's mile 21 of a marathon. None of my professors know me. And I have the luxury of looking behind at the past for a glimpse of what my future would hold should I decide to push through just one more time.
The truth is I didn't have to withdraw. If you were to look at the history of my injury, you'd probably ask, "Why now? The one time you DON'T need surgery is the one time you DO withdraw? What's up with that?" Good question. I could have done it. I know I could have. But at what cost?
One of my greatest concerns about deciding to withdraw was what people were going to think and say. I felt like I needed a really good reason to do it. I think a lot of us fall into that trap. We think that we should stay in school until we literally can't do it anymore; until we're checked into the hospital for some physical, mental, or emotional diagnoses or threatened within an inch of our lives. Who made up that rule? It's backwards. The whole thing is backwards.
We think we need a really good reason to take a semester off. And we do. But we need to change our definition of what a good reason really is.
Traditionally, it is in my nature to continue pushing through until my life, body, and sanity shatter into a million pieces. That takes awhile to clean up and I'm usually practically useless for the first several months of the process. It's horrible. It's scary. It's messy. But for some reason I believed that it was the only permissible way.
Today, I'm doing things a little bit differently. I'm in tune with my body, my mind, and my environment. I can sense danger and make choices that will protect and preserve me. I let myself look at the broken pieces and pick them up rather than waiting until things shatter into dust.
I've decided to take the semester off because it's what's best for me. I need to let my body heal. I've been at war with my body for nearly a decade now. It drains me of my energy, enthusiasm, patience, and capacity to love. I'm tired of that. My body is pleading with me for care and attention and it's pulled my soul on board as well.
My "free time" will be well spent. I plan on investing in my blog, working on my freelance career, reading fiction and non-fiction books, learning to cook, and dedicating myself wholeheartedly to rehabilitating my hip. I plan on being a mom to my daughter. I plan on filling my lungs with air and breathing again.
The title of this post is "Summer Suits You". I know that summer is nearly over, but the title really has nothing to do with summertime and everything to do with 3 words spoken to me by my marketing professor several months ago. It was a few weeks after graduation and I ran into her in Target. We were chatting for a good 20 minutes when she looked at me and said, "Gosh Brittany, summer suits you." She wasn't talking about my tan or my cute sundress. She was talking about my affect. I laughed at the time, but I was also a little bit sad. I was sad that the difference between the "School Brittany" and the "Summer Brittany" was so drastic. I wanted to spend the summer getting to a place in my mind where I could maintain the summer affect in the midst of a semester at college.
I didn't quite meet the mark on that one, but I've bought myself some extra time. I want to find that place in my mind where summer and winter combine and form something glorious. I know it exists. I know it's possible. And I believe this hiatus is my opportunity to press in rather than push through.
What steps do you take to engage in self-care?
Few But Faithful
This one's for the few but faithful folks that visit my blog and wait expectantly for posts and tweets. The last week or so has been rather crazy. And from what I hear, I don't seem to be in the minority when making that statement. It was the first week of school for most people, which naturally carries with it an unusually high level of stress. But this post isn't going to be about ways to manage stress or cope with crazy (although those are topics on my blog post "to-do" list). This one's going to be a little more personal. It might not be one that reaches a broader audience, but it's something insightful nonetheless and my hope is that you might be able to see a piece of yourself in my story.
I've been going through a rough patch. Some people like to debate whether or not "overwhelmed" is a feeling. I say it is. It's one that can practically smother you if you're not careful. The thing that makes feeling overwhelmed so dangerous is that it's not always foreshadowed with gloom and doom. Your life can be filled with excitement, joy, anticipation, goals, and prospects. Couple these healthy stressors with a few negative relationships or burdensome commitments, however, and you'll soon find yourself knee-deep in trouble.
I have a lot going for me: I'm establishing an online presence, I have a steady and well-paying job, I'm starting at a "real" university, I've started on some freelance work, and I finally feel like I have a vision for the future.
That's a lot on my plate. I work 18 hours a week at one college and travel to another university for my 15 credits worth of classes four days a week. I'm also raising a 4 year-old daughter, serving on the Celebrate Recovery leadership team at my church, and going to physical therapy multiple times per week. I'm running a blog, promoting myself through social media, and writing freelance articles too. All while trying to maintain my sanity. It's a lot.
I tend to downplay it: "Other people do all of this and more. Why can't I do it?"
The answer? I can.
I've been told it multiple times; usually by the people I swore would be the most unlikely to utter the words. Never in my wildest dreams did I picture the people who saw me in my darkest moments to tell me, "No Brittany. You've lost your right to say you can't. You've done the impossible. After everything you've survived, this will certainly not be the end of you. You are a miracle."
We never ask for hardship, desperation, or the feeling of being utterly overwhelmed by what life has brought upon us. But it's usually in these moments that I'm most able to witness and experience an outpouring of love. You'd think after all this time I would realize this fact and come to expect it, yet it still sweeps me off my feet. The way God uses hardship to draw us into relationship with both Him and others while refining us, making us stronger, and revealing our inherent worth as human beings continually astounds me.
The people who saw me at my worst refuse to let me be anything less than my best. Those who have believed in me through it all still encourage me through my doubts. And there are always new people joining me on my journey; bringing hope and meaning to my life, always telling me that I've done the same for them.
I know that I can do it. What it really comes down to is how I do it. That's a choice I get to make. This period of my life is stressful, yet it's full of potential. I get to decide whether or not I make it glorious. So I think I'll knock my course load down to 12 credits instead of 15. I'll take a few steps to manage my temperance. I'll eat.
To most people these decisions come naturally; they're common sense. You might not understand it, but for me it's more difficult. They're things I have to mull over and do with great intention.
Some days we feel like we don't really have a choice in the matter; all we feel is utter exhaustion. On other days we're filled with frantic excitement. But, while life is full of ups and downs, most of our days are spent in the middle and it's on those days that we get to make a choice. We get to decide which side of the spectrum will shape and define our thoughts and actions. It's that daily decision that colors and flavors our lives for years to come.
What daily decision is most difficult for you?
The Messages Worth Saving
I was out to lunch with a friend recently and we were having a great conversation. We were laughing and talking about both the healthy and toxic relationships in our lives. At some point, she looked at me and said, "You know, I really need to clean out the text messages on my phone. I'd hate so-and-so to find them."
One moment. Everything changed.
Think about it for a minute. What if you forgot to lock your phone and someone picked it up. Is there something you would be ashamed of? Is there something you would fear? Is the thought of such a scenario enough to make you anxious, suspicious, or afraid?
I know I'm taking a chance in saying this, but I'm thinking the answer is yes. I'm not talking songs with explicit lyrics or dirty pictures on your photo stream. I'm talking about words. And not even the "naughty" ones.
You know that one time you were sitting in a room with someone and they were aggravating you so much and the only way you had of expressing your frustration was to text your best friend? They texted back some smart aleck remark that undoubtedly made you crack up and took the edge off your aggravation. You felt better and there was no harm done.
Well what if that person picked up your phone and saw the text the next day. Was the temporary relief of your frustration worth the hurt of such a revelation? You've been caught red-handed and the price might be a friendship. We don't think about what we're sacrificing when we hit send.
We all know what gossip is and what it does and that it hurts. Mostly because, at some point in our lives, we've been gossiped about. We've heard about it through the grapevine or caught our bff betraying us in the hallway between classes. I've been both the instigator and the victim of some fierce gossip. It's painful. It's shameful. And I think that most of us avoid it these days. At least we think we do. But gossip manifests itself in many ways. And today I think it often rears its ugly head in the form of a text.
My first instinct is to do the obvious thing and lock my phone. But lets face it. The people I'm afraid of finding these gossip texts are actually some of the people who know my password. Or would be able to figure it out. Which makes it even worse, if you think about it. What a betrayal.
My second thought is to delete my text history with certain people and erase the evidence. Which isn't a bad idea, honestly. My motive isn't to eradicate my guilt; my actions are there whether or not the texts are accessible. My motive is to keep my loved one from experiencing hurt. So I really don't see anything wrong with deleting the history.
But.
The question is what comes next. What happens after the evidence is erased and I have my fresh start? Personally, I like to keep my text history to refer back to from time to time. I like to create memories that are worth saving. Not erasing. So I make a choice and a commitment. To myself and my friendships.
I commit to sending only messages worth saving. Anything I'll want to delete shouldn't be said in the first place. Why risk the hurt, the damage, and the loss that could result from careless gossip.
It's a lesson we don't seem to learn easily. We learned it in kindergarten and again in high school. It reared it's ugly head in the break room at work and again during the kids' soccer practice. I don't care what the old rhyme says about stick and stones. Words hurt. I can't even count the number of times that I've been hurt by words. I'd like to prevent myself from doing that same damage to others.
In what ways have you seen gossip manifest itself in the adult world? What actions do you take to eliminate the effects of gossip in your life?
LIVE! from Summit Day 2
As promised, I'm typing live from the Global Leadership Summit LifePoint Church satellite location (well it's as close to live as you're going to get from me at least). It's lunchtime and I managed to sneak away for a few minutes to bring you a few insights from this morning's sessions.
It's really difficult to put an experience like this into words. These speakers have the ability to stir up something within me. Something great; too great to be described by the simplicity of the English language. Which kind of brings me to the subject of this afternoon's post.
Bill Hybels hosted a session with 3 incredible leaders and they each left a mark on my soul. Essentially, they were discussing the integration of faith in the workplace and how they have made doing so a reality in their own lives and businesses. It was inspiring to listen to. Truly.
Following their talks, Bill Hybels came back to the stage and explained the purpose of the session once: The Grander Vision. He (once again) explained what's been on my heart. He said something along the lines of, "Many people ask, 'Is this all there is? Is this all I am? Will my life ever be used for a higher purpose?'"
Wow. I mean, I don't know about you, but those questions have run through my mind more than once. It's what I've frequently explained as restlessness. Dissatisfaction. A deep yearning for "more" with an underlying certainty that "more" exists.
I know that restlessness has been placed in my heart for a reason. I know that God refuses to allow me to be satisfied until I come into sync with His purpose for my life. And I'm grateful. I really am. My heart is overflowing with gratitude because I truly have no desire to settle for less.
It sounds so simple. My gut instinct is to say "Of course; I know that." But if I truly know it, then I have the responsibility to act on it. As Bill put it, my role is to serve people joyfully and without discrimination. That is where I will find satisfaction on this side of eternity.
What came next is something that needs to happen more often in our lives. We sat back in silence and asked God to speak to us; to reveal something to us that was not of ourselves. To give us a piece of His vision for our lives. And can I be honest? I was a little bit distracted.
I was suddenly overwhelmed. At first I was like "How can God answer this question individually for each of the thousands of people offering up this prayer in one moment?" I know He's God and I know it's not really an issue for Him. But still the thought crossed my mind. Then--suddenly--I stopped.
What if He was waiting? What if He has been preparing for this moment. What if He is so proud of Bill Hybels for creating an environment where thousands of people drop everything they are doing to pause and turn to Him and plead with Him for direction, purpose, vision, and true satisfaction with the sole desire of aligning themselves with His will for their lives?
I am overwhelmed right now. I can see God rubbing His hands together in eager anticipation. Tears streaming down His face when He hears our quiet cry for guidance and feels our hands stretch out to Him. It's beautiful.
So what about you? I know I won't get many comments on this one, but I'd still like to challenge you to answer this question for yourself:
Are you bankrupt in satisfaction?
“See You At The Summit”
My brain seriously feels like it's going to explode. But that would be really messy and let's be honest: Ain't nobody got time for that. I'm overwhelmed. It's Summit week across the nation and I'm kind of sad that a lot of you probably have no idea what I'm talking about. The Global Leadership Summit is a massive conference executed by the Willow Creek Association. It is held at Willow Creek Community Church in Illinois and there are over 300 satellite locations streaming the conference live today and tomorrow. It is PACKED full of awesomeness.
Last year was my first GLS and it seriously changed my life. That is not an exaggeration. It is truth. 100% absolute truth. Speaker after speaker gets up on that stage and they each blow my mind and ignite a fire of passion in my soul. Sometimes I'm laughing and sometimes there are tears streaming down my face. But I'm always overwhelmed by possibility and this deep yearning to live my life intentionally. Every single moment of it.
At the end of last year's summit, I promised myself that I would go again this year. In May I checked with my boss to see if I could get that Friday off (Thursdays are already my "official day off") and she said of course. But then life happened. We took a spontaneous vacation in June and I had surgery in July. I had taken so much time off of work this summer that I didn't even want to ask to have August 15th off too. The ministry team I work with at my church said that I could go for just Thursday, which was awesome. I was so excited. But I knew myself. I knew if I went on Thursday, it would nearly kill me to miss out on Day 2 of the summit. So I sucked it up and asked my boss for one more Friday off. She said yes.
All of this happened less than a week ago and it has been a whirlwind of a week. I haven't really had a chance to prepare my mind and heart for the GLS this year. The anticipation wasn't built up like it was last year. But the excitement...oh. my. gosh. You have no idea. Last night I felt like a kid on Christmas Eve. I knew how much the summit impacted me last year and I was ready. I was expectant.
I am raw right now; it took me quite some time to even dial myself down enough to sit and think. I do my best reflecting when I'm writing, so I'm going to give you a quick recap of...
Top 5 Things That Have Impacted Me During Day 1 of the Global Leadership Summit:
Bill Hybels talked a lot about vision and the importance of making a "Legacy Play." Um, can we back track to my blog post 2 months ago when I talked about developing a vision and my desire to leave a legacy? God didn't miss a BEAT and spoke straight to my heart first thing this morning. Bill talked about how, when we leave this world, a gravestone is what represents our lives: 2 dates with a dash in-between (he's never seen a U-Haul in a graveyard). He asked a simple yet challenging question:
“What will you do with your dash?”
Carly Fiorina boldly proclaimed that human potential is the only limitless resource in the entire world. She explained that the role of a leader is to build a framework consisting of vision, organization, metrics, and culture.
“Set the frame, then set your people free.”
Jeffrey Immelt is the President and CEO of General Electric and he had lots of insightful points to offer during his interview with Bill Hybels. He talked about how it's not your supervisor or the people you manage who determine where you go; it's your peers. Your supervisor has to "like" you because he hired you and your employees have to "like" you because you're their boss. But you have to earn the trust and respect of your peers.
“Horizontal strength is what keeps organizations together.”
Susan Cain spoke on challenging the extrovert ideal by revealing the power of introverts. Her talk spoke to me in a unique way. She wasn't exactly an especially eloquent speaker, but she knew she had something important to say and she knew that she was the best person to say it. So she did. Our culture values extroversion and equates it with "good leadership." She challenged us to see the strengths in both extroverts and introverts and to create an environment and culture that caters to the needs of each. Group work has its place, but solitude can lead to equal (if not greater) degrees of success.
“May you have the courage to speak softly.”
Patrick Lencioni was tied for my favorite speaker last year and he made an even more impressive appearance today (the GLS faculty changes every year but they keep asking Patrick back...he must be doing something right). He talked about the most dangerous mistakes that leaders make and he did so with humor that only he could pull off respectfully. One of the mistakes he spoke about was becoming a leader for the wrong reason. The right reason for becoming a leader is the desire to sacrifice yourself for the good of others, even when you know there won't be a return on investment. He said he's tired of hearing about servant leadership.
“Servant leadership is the only kind of leadership. Otherwise it’s just economics”
I know it probably doesn't sound or look like it, but these are just a few tiny snips of what one day of the GLS contains; the nuts and bolts of some very compelling and thought-provoking topics. This won't be the last you hear of the summit from me. I was hoping to do a "live blog feed" during the lunch break today, but maybe I'll be able to pull it off tomorrow. Regardless, I can pretty much guarantee you that I will do a more in-depth post about one or more of the speakers over the next few weeks. There's so much good information and it needs to be processed and shared. Attending the GLS won't make you a better leader; intentionally applying what you learn will.
My question for you today is the same question Bill Hybels asked me at 10:00 this morning:
What will you do with your dash?
The Perfect Surgery
My surgeon and I have 2 very different definitions of the word perfect.
To me, the perfect hardware removal surgery would mean...I don't know...that all the hardware would be removed. But maybe that's just the crazy talking. Maybe I've had a few too many pain pills. Because my orthopedist tells me, "The surgery went perfectly, Brittany!" Yet he's standing there telling me that the head of one of the screws broke off while he was trying to remove it. So he left it in there. To me, perfect doesn't include broken screws.
I hate the word perfect because you might as well say impossible. Earthly perfection is purely objective. There is no right answer. My definition of perfect is different from yours. We place varying degrees of value on portions of the equation. Your perfect is not my perfect so no one is ever authentically happy. It took me awhile to realize this. I spent most of my youth pursuing this ever-elusive so-called perfect.
I'm sorry, but the only thing that's perfect is God's love. End of story.
So I guess it doesn't matter what my orthopedist's definition of perfect is because no one's perfect is every going to measure up to my definition. My version of the perfect surgery would have erased the past. I mean, that's what I was looking for, wasn't it? I wanted all evidence of my medical history removed. I wanted a clean slate. I expected the scars on my leg to be the only trace of the 6 surgeries and countless years that have gone into rehabilitating my hip. I demanded the impossible, and that's not all that fair, now is it?
But still. Dude. Seriously. It was hard enough explaining why a person my age had the hardcore hip hardware that I flaunted when undergoing medical diagnostics. But at least that could be explained. I now have what looks like a stray screw floating inside the middle of my femur. 6 surgeries. Countless scars. 1 stray screw. No rational explanation.
Please, people, help me out. This is dying for a good story. "I got in a fight with a nail gun." "My brother thought I was a two-by-four." "It was a dare."
I want to hear the best story you have to explain away this mystery in an entertaining yet mildly believable tale.
Restless
I know that I haven't exactly been the most reliable blogger as of late. And I don't have a good excuse; I've had plenty of time, plenty of material, and plenty of thoughts. I have so many ideas. So many beliefs. So many dreams.
Dreams. I never thought I'd say that one again. I was going through my journal when I ran across something I had written not too long ago...
“Sometimes I worry that I’ll never be encouraged to pursue greatness or chase the impossible again for fear of what I might loose.”
I'm going to be a bit vulnerable and let you in on a little secret. I think we all have something that we plead with God for. Some people plead for time, for love, for money, for healing. Don't get me wrong; I've been known to plead for such things as well. But I don't remember ever pleading with God for something so intentionally before...with my whole heart.
So what is my plea, exactly?
Vision that leaves a legacy.
That has been my desperate, heart-felt plea. I'd even go so far as to say that I've begged for it.
I've never begged for a vision before; I've always created my own. I've spent my life building dreams upon dreams. Every action I took was rooted in the pursuit of some goal. It gave me a purpose. It gave life meaning. It made me confident and driven and successful. It also destroyed me. It eventually left me dreamless. My purpose faded. I felt empty.
I won't get into the story of how this void eventually became a blessing in my life (that's for another time). But it's important for you to understand that it did. The void was filled by Jesus.
I know that he is more than enough, yet I've still felt restless. It wasn't that I was just "going through the motions." I've been present and intentional in all that I've done, but it's been without a goal. There has been no dream, no purpose, no motive. Without realizing it, I believe I've been waiting. It hasn't been pretty or patient. There's been some complaining, whining, and crying involved. But hey, for a person inexperienced in the art of waiting, even the restless kind is quite an accomplishment.
I believe in God and miracles and the power of prayer. I do. But I'm still amazed when God answers my prayers with a word. He has given me a vision. He has planted a seed in my heart. And it is precious to me. So precious.
By now, you're probably wondering what it is. What is this vision that God has given me? Well, to be honest, I'm still not 100% sure. It comes in pieces. God gives me just enough, then tells me to wait. Here's the best part, though. He tells me to wait restlessly.
It turns out that God loves the way that I wait. He created me that way. He loves that I soak in the present, yet yearn for more. He loves my genuine gratitude for the healing and transformation that I have received, and he loves that I refuse to accept it as enough. He loves my search for purpose, my desire for legacy.
I think we're taught that if we're not content, we're discontent; if we're not satisfied, we're dissatisfied. I beg to differ. The world is not black and white. I'm tired of the lines; the call to take a stand in a world that is way more than 50 shades of grey.
So go ahead. Be restless. Wait. Dream. Wander. Use a pencil instead of a pen ( because it's ok to change your mind) and color outside the lines with those big chunky crayons. I don't care and neither should you. It's ok if you get a little lost as long as you're playing the game. Ask questions. Stay engaged. Reach out and touch the world. But, most importantly, don't be afraid to let it touch you.
Number Six
It's funny. When I was creating this website, I copied over some of my more popular posts from a previous blog. One of them was about my lack of patience and it was written last summer. I won't get into the details, but I will use this opportunity to update you on life and hopefully weave some insight into the mix.
For those of you who aren't familiar with my story, I should probably mention the fact that I fractured my hip as a student-athlete at the age of 18 during my freshman year of college. Within the first year I had 3 surgeries to repair the original fracture, a non-union, and a re-fracture. The short version of the story is that I didn't take care of myself very well and I paid the price. Fast forward 8 years and we come to the winter of 2013. I was having a lot of hip pain and started physical therapy. They discovered a labral tear, so I had surgery (number 4) in April. I got about halfway through the rehab when I re-tore the labrum and had another surgery (number 5) in November.
I have an amazing treatment team. My physical therapist and physical therapist assistant are phenomenal. They're the ones who first discovered the labral tear. When it was officially diagnosed, I went on a hardcore quest to find the right surgeon. Arthroscopic surgery to repair labral tears is a relatively new procedure and most surgeons have little-to-no experience with these cases--especially one as unique as mine. I found a highly specialized and experienced surgeon who is well worth the time I spend on the road to see him.
My family travelled to Disney World this April and about a week before we left for Florida, I started to have excruciating hip pain. My orthopedist squeezed me into his schedule and hooked me up with an ultrasound guided cortisone injection (think horse needle into hip joint) to get me through the trip. He then scheduled some tests for when I returned. I think we both knew what was coming.
I hope you're still reading and that I haven't bored you too much because I'm finally getting to my point. You know, the one about patience?
It's been 3 months since that pre-Disney appointment. My orthopedist is a pretty thorough guy. There's a new program for reading CT scans and he wanted to run me through the protocol before making any big decisions. But nothing is ever that easy. It's a new program, which means there were lots of technicalities involving both humans and equipment. So we only just finished up all of the testing last week.
The day before my graduation in May, I told my physical therapist that we had 3 months. 3 months to get my hip back on track. I had a timeline in my mind of how everything would go. This CT protocol kept messing with my timeline. In the moment, each phone call I received that postponed the decision was frustrating. More like enraging, actually. It seemed as though no one was paying any attention to my timeline!!!!
But here's the thing. Usually, within 24 hours, my frustration and rage had diminished and I was able to accept the news. I've even been able to find some good in the "bad" news that continuously screwed with my 3 month timeline.
I've been scheduled for hip surgery number 6 at the end of July. Please note: that's nearly 4 months after I pretty much knew that another surgery would be in my future. If things had gone according to my plan, this would have happened at the beginning of June to allow for optimal healing time. Because that would have been the most convenient and logical thing, of course. But guess what; the world doesn't revolve around me. And, I'm coming to realize, that is not a bad thing.
I've spent more days than I care to admit dwelling on the details and inconveniences of this process. But those days are like drops in the bucket when compared to how I would have handled things even 6 months ago. In my "patience: not my virtue" post from last summer, I ended with a prayer asking God to help me become a person of good temper; for peace in disturbed surroundings. It's a process, but I really do believe God is doing a work in me.
Surgery number 6 will basically just be a hardware removal procedure. I have a lot of metal in my hip and they're finally going to take it all out. Up until now, the surgeons have been reluctant to remove the device. While the procedure isn't as intricate as others have been, it does carry a fair amount of risk. It will take about 6 weeks for the bone to fill in the areas that the hardware has occupied for the last 9 years. Those are some big holes, guys. The risk of fracture is high during the first month and I'm both fragile and accident-prone, which is not a good combination. So I'll be uncharacteristically careful and obedient to the "doctor's orders."
But, as always, I am realistically optimistic.
PS: If this just wasn't enough info for you and you have more questions, please visit the Contact page to send me a quick note. I'm really open about my experience with hip fractures, non-unions, bone grafts, and labral tears. There isn't much information out there about some of these topics and I've had to do a lot of research on my own. I'd love to share what I've learned with others who are muddling through their own journeys!
Impossible.
They said it was impossible.
Jesus knew better, though, and he said, "With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible." (Matthew 19:26)
A lot of people in my class didn't even want to walk. They thought a community college graduation was a joke. They couldn't wait to move on to stage 2. And let's face it, I'm excited for the future too.
This isn't what I pictured. 10 years ago I crossed the stage as high school valedictorian. My future was vibrant. I was ambitious. The world was my oyster. This is nothing like what I pictured for myself.
It's even better.
I have never felt more loved. More blessed. More overwhelmed with joy.
Life is precious and the life I have is truly a miracle.
So for some, yesterday was just a lame day of symbolic tradition. But for me, it was rich with meaning. As I walked across the stage and moved my tassel, my heart nearly burst with excitement. I have defied the laws of psychiatry and the reality that had been imposed upon me. By the healing power of Jesus, my hope was restored and my ability to dream has been reignited.
You'll be seeing more of me, folks. Just you wait.
Summit Hangover
I attended the Global Leadership Summit last week at one of its satellite locations and it was amazing. We listened to world-renowned speakers from every end of the leadership spectrum, including an army officer, business man, doctor, pastor, lawyer, author, film producer, and more.
The lineup included:
Bill Hybels
General Colin Powell
Patrick Lencioni
Liz Wiseman
Chris Brown
Bob Goff
Mark Burnett
Joseph Grenny
Vijay Govindarajan
Dr. Brene Brown
Oscar Muriu
Dr. Henry Cloud
Andy Stanley
I've been wanting to write a blog entry about the experience, but my brain still feels like it's going to explode. Dr. Brene Brown spoke about the concept of a vulnerability hangover, and I'm convinced that I have a summit hangover. When all was said and done late Friday night, I sat in my room and cried. I was just so overwhelmed with all the wisdom I had taken in and the fact that now I had a choice. I could,
A-Wake up the next day and go into work and have it go just as every other day has gone the last 2 weeks, or...
B-Wake up the next day and go into work and have it go just as every other day has gone the last 2 weeks and look for opportunities to apply this newly acquired wisdom to some practical situations.
After a conference like the GLS, you leave wanting to change the world. Then reality smacks you in the face. Sometimes you realize what you're up against and decide that what you've learned simply can't apply to the situation you're presently in. Maybe it'll be useful later on in life. So you just tuck it away for later.
That's usually me.
Something inside me just won't let up, though. I still want to change the world, so it makes me angry that I am where I am. Making coffee and dealing with disgruntled employees and people who will run me over in the parking lot trying to get to the drive-thru 1.37 seconds faster (not thinking about the fact that if they run over their barista, there will be no coffee in the first place). It's easy to get bitter, discontent, and unsatisfied.
It's been a struggle. I've been wrestling with it a lot. I know that I am here for a purpose. God has something to teach me. I know that God did not bring me to the Summit to get me all fired up, then squash my flames in a torrential downpour of disappointment and frustration. I think He planted within me a seed to change the world. But He wants me to start by changing MY world. And for some reason, that's a whole lot more tedious and less inviting.
It seems I'd rather change the world than change myself. OUCH.
I'm exhausted. It'd be really easy to give up and settle and accept what I have for what it is.
But I'm too stubborn for that nonsense. So I'll dig in my heels and lean into God and let Him do a work in me. And I'll start by sticking my nose into Liz Wiseman's book Multipliers.
Labels
There's something to be said about being a part of something bigger than yourself. Bigger than your world. Bigger than your reality.
That's what this weekend was about for me.
A few weeks ago I received a call from Mercy Ministries asking me if I would share my testimony at an event at Seeds of Greatness in Delaware. There was a lot to consider in making the decision. It involved a lot of discussion with my support system and prayer with my God. But in the end, I excitedly agreed to share my story of healing and transformation.
I've always loved public speaking, but this was different. To reveal your deepest secrets and stand vulnerable before strangers is not the same as giving a speech. Usually, a speech entails some sort of message. There's an agenda. A purpose. A mission to accomplish.
So I guess in that way, a testimony is a speech. There's a message of hope. An agenda of healing. A purpose of transforming. A mission of saving and redeeming.
But when I give my testimony, it really isn't mine. It's God's. My life was, is, and will always be about the greatness of my God. It is through my story that He is glorified. His strength is magnified in my weakness. His victory is displayed through my failure. His peace is highlighted in my turmoil. His blessings are abundant in my crises.
Anyone can see God in a rainbow, promotion, birth, graduation, or flower. We love to get on Facebook and tell the world how God blessed us this week. And that is awesome. It really is. But I often find that this can bring on more jealousy than hope.
But when we stand vulnerable before both our friends and enemies. When we make ourselves available to God and He shows up in the midst of our disasters...now THAT'S inspiring. There's something about the brutal reality of such a lifestyle that DRAWS people. Even when they don't want to be drawn.
There's no limit to what God can do through us. Honestly, I was way more excited than nervous about sharing my life story with a few hundred strangers in a distant state. I have witnessed what God is capable of doing in the life of a broken human being. To be called upon to be a tool in the process is an incredible honor. Sacrifices were made in the process, but I have never regretted walking in obedience. And I've gotta say...there's nothing like standing on a stage next to Nancy Alcorn, opening your heart to the world and your soul to the Holy Spirit, and watching what happens in a room bursting with passion.
In my testimony I talk about all of the labels I received throughout the years. How I used to define myself by the labels that teachers, mentors, and doctors all gave me. But how Mercy showed me the truth. I am not defined by any earthly labels. I am a child of God. A daughter of the King.
But, there IS one (and only one) label that I will cling to every day that I walk the face of this planet:
Brittany Bowen
Mercy Graduate
:-)
The Story of My Nuked Chocolate Chip Cookie
Several things within the last hour have struck me as noteworthy:
First of all, I'm sitting here at my computer at 11:30 at night and I realize that I really have not been to the bathroom since 11:30 this morning. This tells you something. I am so busy right now that I actually forget to go to the bathroom.
Secondly, after the store was closed the 3 of us were still furiously cleaning for half an hour. I had the trash bag full of expired pastries on the floor and I look over and one of my coworkers is crouched down eating pastries out of it. He looks up at me with sad eyes and says, "This is not filling the void in my heart. Is this what it has come to???" We're laughing hilariously, but something about the whole situation rings true.
Is this what it has come to?
I don't know. I mean, it's late. I should probably go to bed. I have to be back at work in less than 8 hours. So I limited myself to one chocolate chip cookie. I even microwaved it so it was kind of gooey. Microwaving things always makes them taste better.
But despite the fact that I am indeed receiving some sort of comfort in a nuked chocolate chip cookie, the fact is that I will soon go to bed, get some rest, then wake up early enough to renew my mind a bit before heading into work again. Even though I may rather come down with a severe case of the bubonic plague. Because I refuse to be the one eating expired food out of a trash bag. I've been there before. It's not funny. It's depressing. And that is NOT what it has come to.
I knew this week would be a hard one. I knew that the heart preparation required for giving my testimony on Saturday would leave my physical body and mind vulnerable to attack all week. I knew that when I agreed to speak. So I've been praying and I know that I am being prayed over. I know that I am covered in prayer and that God is my strength in my moments of weakness.
It's easy to get caught up in the madness of the last few hours. It's easy to forget about the feeling I had in the car. I left the college just before 1:30 to stop at my house to change and be at work by 2. I clearly did not have much down time. But as I was listening to Kari Jobe while driving, I felt a wave of God's presence in my car. He was there, siting in the passenger's seat. I realized that His hand has been on every detail of the last several days. That only He could have orchestrated things to come together as they are.
There's a lot at stake. But I have to trust in Him. Because I wouldn't have even realized what was at stake if He hadn't been whispering into other people's ears. If He hadn't put my face in people's hearts. If He hadn't planted my name as a seed in people's minds.
His hand is in it all. So I'll snag my chocolate chip cookie BEFORE it goes in the trashcan. I'll savor a moment and then I'll hit the rack. He's gotten me further than I've ever gotten myself, so I think I'll leave the future to Him. I'll just accept tomorrow as a day to scrub the floors, bathe in bleach, and study. And we'll just go from there.