Sometimes I have crappy days…crappy weeks, even.

Sometimes I get really crabby for no particular reason.

Sometimes some, choice, four-letter-words slip out.

Sometimes money is tight.

Sometimes precious relationships in my life are strained.

Sometimes stress weighs on me.

Sometimes I slam doors shut and yell because I’m angry.

Sometimes I feel weak.

Sometimes I feel confused.

Sometimes I have no confidence.

Sometimes I feel lonely.

Sometimes I feel discouraged.

Sometimes the world disappoints me.

Sometimes I wonder where God is.

Crap goes down in my life. Sometimes it’s significant. Sometimes it’s petty.

It’s easy to get caught up in the bad stuff.

But I choose hope. And I have to remind myself of hope every, single day…because hope is intangible.

Hope is believing what I can’t see. Hope is trusting in goodness and peace.

Hope produces smiles when the heaviness of situations feels unbearable.

Hope finds positives in the ugliest of situations.

Hope convinces me that God turns crap into fertilizer where beautiful things can grow.

Hope removes fear because it reminds me that I have absolutely nothing to lose.

Hope reminds me that someone exists who is bigger and more powerful than me.

Hope inspires me so that I can inspire others.

There’s a lot of power in those four letters.

Those four letters anchor my soul.

For me, risks and trust get real when applied relationally. Baring my soul – complete with insecurities, imperfections, annoyances and even giddiness – is scary. Sharing all of who we are with anyone is a risk. But, when relationships are developed under that kind of transparency, they’re precious…they’re real…they’re like home…the relationships themselves are heaven on earth…they withstand.

And I usually forget that part…that they withstand.

They withstand distance, busy-ness and changes in life directions. Relationships built on the big risk of transparency have built-in trust because they’re built ON trust.

My realization? I’m afraid of trusting those to whom I’m closest to love me in return. And that’s sad. As if they’re not capable of loving me as much as I love them? As if people aren’t capable of giving me grace for bummer or crabby days? As if their busyness or distance means they don’t care? Others may show love differently than I, but it doesn’t mean they don’t love. And, honestly, trusting their love might just be my greatest demonstration of love to them.

It’s funny, I spend most of my time in life finding ways to remind people that they’re loved. And, for me, it’s a very spiritual thing. I believe that we (human beings) were created to be loved, and to love in return. And I want everyone to know that. I believe that God loves us through everything around us…through things we see and relationships we experience. And, at some point, we simply need to choose to believe that we’re loved…even when we’re not entirely feeling it…because that is what faith is.

Do you note the irony here?

At some point, I need to trust people…and choose to believe I’m loved…even when I’m not entirely feeling it…because that’s what faith in their love for me is. And the reward? Knowing I don’t have to worry about whether or not they love me, but simply having peace in knowing I’m loved.

Accepting love is a choice. I would know…because it’s a choice I have to make, too.

Hope isn’t trite. Hope isn’t naivete. Hope isn’t an escape. Hope isn’t even wishful thinking.

I feel that all too often we brush off hope as something touchy, feely and squishy. Something meant to make us feel warm and fuzzy. Something Pollyanna-ish.

But we forget that hope is strong. Hope withstands. Hope gives comfort. Hope gives peace.

Sure, hope can make you happy and it can make you smile, but hope is bigger than optimism…bigger than happiness…

Hope is real.

People often ask me what keeps me going…how I can always look at the upside of situations…how I can smile so often…how I can be so happy.

The answer is hope.

Hope is mentioned a lot in the New Testament (it’s especially prominent in letters from Paul). The Greek definition of that word in every single reference is an expectation and a confidence. For me, that expectation and confidence is knowing God is with me. Always. Forever. There’s no shaking Love Himself.

That means, once you realize hope is unshakable, you might end up with the same happiness disease that I have. Be warned, with a realization of hope, you’ll end up laughing more, crying more, taking more risks, loving more people…because there is nothing – absolutely nothing – to lose.

The author of Hebrews calls hope an anchor for our souls. I think that’s a pretty good descriptor. Hope keeps us connected to a solid foundation. When storms come and hurl everything into a tailspin, hope is still connected to the foundation. In moments of unhappiness and in times of discontent hope still exists and reminds us that ultimately everything will be OK.

Hope withstands anxiety.

Hope withstands frustration.

Hope withstands when smiles don’t.

Hope dwells in our souls. Hope is everpresent. Hope gives our lives life.

Hope is bigger than us. Thank goodness, because then we’re not left holding on to ourselves when everything else feels like it’s falling apart. Hope being bigger than us also means that when peace and happiness overtake us, it’s not about ourselves either…we are fueled by the love of someone much bigger.

Call me an optimist. Roll your eyes. But don’t downplay hope’s power.

Hope is powerful. Hope changes people.

I would know. Hope changed me.

Hope is my anchor. Always.

The young woman was just out of college and, on the surface, looked as if she was happier than happy and probably had all of her crap together.

But, in all actuality, it was a girl who had struggled for years with things that many people struggle with… starving herself and then forcing herself to puke when she did eat…racking up crazy amounts of credit card debt at a very young age with no great way to pay it off…going out every Thursday, Friday and Saturday night…drinking too much…finding guys to pay attention to her. In many moments, she was afraid the façade would crack, and that people would instantly see her thoughts of inadequacy, imperfection and brokenness. That they would instantly see that she was a sham.

You know people who feel this way. In fact the “people” are probably you.

I would know.

I had to put that picture up on Sunday as I shared with my dear friend Tamara about seeing ourselves as God sees us…I had to put that picture up because it was me…because it was a me who saw herself as broken.

A couple weeks back, when we were mapping out that message, one of my best and most trusted friends mortified me when he shared that some people think I’m always confident and strong and that I don’t make mistakes. I was mortified because didn’t want that to be the case. Ever. I wanted people to see me as transparent. Those closest to me know that a “confident, strong and perfect” Dawn is not reality. But what kept me awake all that night was a burning desire to lay some of the hard stuff out there…a desire to embrace transparency. Not because I was trying to hide anything from anyone, but because those real moments are the moments that can connect people with hope.

Those moments connect people with hope because they can see an anchor of hope at work in your own life…when they can see you smile despite what you’ve gone through or are going through…when they see you can cry, yet still cling to hope to keep breathing…when they see another imperfect soul find love and acceptance from their higher power.

We all go through crap. We all do stupid things. We all have moments of weakness. We all have moments of feeling gross and dirty. But we often carry all of those feelings behind a façade of a smile. Those moments are integral parts of our stories. And, for me, I believe that God – thanks to Jesus – sees me perfect, holy and righteous, despite those moments of inadequacy…those moments in the past, those I’m living now, and those I’ll face in the future.

Embrace your whole story…not just the highlights…the highs and lows complete the story. Even the crap…because I believe God turns crap into fertilizer…where there is crap, beautiful things can grow.

Because it paralyzes me.

Once it paralyzes me, lack of confidence bleeds into other areas of my life. Once it paralyzes me, by definition, I cannot move…I cannot grow.

It’s a horrible spiral.

When it hits me, it results in a reluctance to embrace all of who I am…to be content with my rarity…to exercise my unique talents and perspectives.

I’m afraid to write. I’m afraid to speak up. I’m afraid to take risks.

It’s no secret that confidence ebbs and flows for everyone…all the time.

I’ve come to learn I’m ripe for a battle with confidence when I forget to spend ample time reflecting upon the things that amaze me…when I begin comparing my God-given purpose to the God-given purposes of others…when challenges begin feeling like free-falling instead of free-flying.

The best weapon in my battle? Realizing my being isn’t an end-state. My being is a through-state.

Realizing that fulfillment comes from embracing who I am, being content with my rarity and seeing my unique talents and perspectives as tools used to love and care for others.

Because then it’s not about believing in myself. It’s about trust in what is being done through me…whether or not I can see it…and that’s faith.

For a great blog on confidence, check out what Jenni Catron wrote on Cultivate Her!

It creates an image. It prompts action. It evokes deep emotions.

Webster’s definition confirms it:

• To clasp or hold close with the arms, usually as an expression of affection
• To surround; enclose
• To twine around

Now add the “-ed” to the word.

I don’t know about you…but the idea of me embracing someone is easier to stomach than the idea of being embraced. It’s personal.

Being embraced requires me to open up.

Being embraced makes me feel vulnerable.

Being embraced takes control away from me.

But then…after my own hesitancy subsides…I realize that…

Being embraced gives me safety.

Being embraced connects my soul to another.

Being embraced tangibly radiates another’s love for me.

An embrace speaks louder than any words…being embraced generates a comfort and peace unlike any other action.

It all sounds simple. Maybe it even sounds fluffy. But it’s one of the simplest and most profound realizations I’ve had. And that realization has turned the past 18 months of my life upside-down. Or maybe, it’s more accurate to say it’s a concept that has turned my life right-side-up.

For the first time in my life, I feel lovable…because I’ve finally allowed myself to be embraced. Embraced by myself…embraced by others…embraced by God.

It wasn’t that I wasn’t loved. I knew I was. But knowing you’re loved is nothing compared to allowing yourself to feel love.

Sometimes it’s awkward. Sometimes it’s clunky. Sometimes it’s scary.

But it will change your life.

Finding acceptance in embracing me.

Finally. I can love me. I’m not standing in front of a mirror ranking my performance. I’ve got my own voice, my own dance, my own moves. It’s interesting when I think about Jesus telling me in the New Testament to love others “as we love ourselves.” I certainly don’t believe he was telling me to hate others as much as I hate myself…yet all too often, that’s what I do. I think we all do. We are our own biggest haters. I’m too fat. I’m not smart enough. My opinion doesn’t matter. How can we possibly love others when we can’t even love ourselves and respect our uniqueness?

In Psalm 139:14 in the Voice translation, it says that we are filled with wonder and awe (other translations say we are fearfully and wonderfully made). I love what the phrase from the Voice suggests…filled with wonder and awe. According to whom? According to God! I imagine Him staring at me in wonder and awe. If God can look at me that way, then certainly I can. And once I can look at myself that way, I can see others that way, too.

Finding trust, encouragement and solace in embraces from others.

I always assumed that I loved people more than they could possibly love me. Not because I love bigger than anyone else, but because I couldn’t see the lovable stuff in myself. I needed to see the lovable in me in order to realize that I am, indeed, loved as much as (if not more than) I can possibly love. It’s logic, really…if God IS love, and His spirit dwells within those who believe in Him, then they emit love. God loves me through other people. I have no doubt. But I could never feel it until I let myself feel it…until I realized I could trust them to love me despite my flaws and quirks…until I would allow myself to actually HEAR their encouragement and direction.

After all, I Corinthians 13:1-3 makes it clear that the foundation of everything is LOVE. Those around me are merely living according the way Jesus asked us to live. How is rejecting their love for me respectful and loving to them? Allowing myself to be loved by others shows them I love them back. When I can trust that someone loves me, no matter what, I feel deep peace and comfort.

Finding meaning, purpose and hope in my embrace from God.

I really never had a problem understanding that God loves me. But I know I never let myself feel His love. When I think about it, I can’t feel love from people when I’m busy running around trying to please them. That’s how it was for God and me. I tried to create my own meaning and my own purpose…and believe me…that was hopeless. It always left me wanting more. And it allowed me to hide the places I didn’t want to go with Him.

When I finally understood the power of grace, and realized that there is NO CONDEMNATION for those who are in Christ (Romans 8:1, New Living Translation), I realized I had nothing to worry about! Was I at risk of Him not accepting me? Nope. He doesn’t care what I do or don’t do to please Him. He wants me to FEEL His love so that it overflows out of me and into the lives of others. The same way he uses the people in my life. Allowing myself to be embraced by God gives me hope that there is meaning and purpose to my unique self, who is filled with wonder and awe and loved by others.

You see, I realized that I can’t embrace others with a love that’s true without allowing myself to be embraced…without understanding what it feels like to be embraced… without understanding how being embraced changes the direction of a moment, a day, a season, a year and, yes, even a lifetime.

Open up. Be vulnerable. Lose control.

Allow yourself to be embraced.

And then watch your life transform.

(Thanks to the special people who understood the power of the word “embrace” and put it to work in the lives of others…including me. You know who you are.)

Fear is a funny thing. It’s not always obvious. It’s horribly uncomfortable. And, it’s often taboo.

Relational rejection.

There. I said it. That’s my biggest fear. Now it’s out there.

It’s ironic really.

Ironic because I love being completely open. Ironic because I love the freedom to be real…raw…and human. Ironic because I love seeing those traits in other people. Ironic because I’m one of the most obnoxiously relational beings I know.

Yet, somehow, this fear has forced me to hide a piece of my soul from the world. Even from my closest friends. Not because of any lack of trust. But truly out of fear. Fear that if they knew every ounce of my maniacal thought process and pervasive insecurities, they would no longer want anything to do with me.

Frankly, it’s been so well hidden in my life, that I’ve literally forgotten those things exist. I’ve gotten so comfortable with sharing my feelings, that I’ve forgotten there are “whys” behind those feelings. And, convinced myself that no one really wants to know those things anyway.

Wrong.

Way wrong.

The friends who do care about those “whys” have somehow found me. And, their deep love cracked that hard core of fear…a place in my life where I feel most vulnerable.

I let my fear of being alone and being vulnerable limit what my friends could be to me…limit the love I’d allow myself to receive from them. But, thank God for their persistence. For their love. For letting God use them to show me another layer of his own unfailing love and grace.

In close friendships, people don’t see vulnerabilities as signs of weakness or dark corners where no one wants to go.

These deep relationships seek vulnerabilities to embrace them.

Once my friends drew the vulnerabilities out of me, I was reminded that if they desired to get that close to me, than Jesus wanted it more. He doesn’t care about dark corners, because he is light…because he embodies perfect love…because his perfect love casts out fear. Even fear of relational rejection.

In the New Testament, Jesus refers to himself as our friend. I’m convinced he does that so we can capture glimpses in our lives today as to how he wants to operate in our lives. How we talk with him. How we laugh with him. How we cry with him. How we debate with him. And, yes, even what we share with him.

Those friends know who they are. And, I’m indebted to their compassion, loyalty and deep love. And, mostly, I’m thankful that God could use them to remind me of how much I’m loved for who I am. Right now. Despite the flaws, insecurities and fears I see in myself. Because He doesn’t even see them. He only sees beauty…vulnerable beauty.

“Knowing and letting oneself be known require overcoming many ancient fears – but it’s worth every risk.” – Arianna Huffington in “On Becoming Fearless”

What. A. Year.

And it’s only October.

Who knew that when I picked this song as my theme for the year that it would unfold the way it did. A story of faith. A story of trust. A story of craziness. God has bigger things in store for you than you have in store for yourself. I guarantee it.

I guest posted my story in a two-part series on a blog by Sherry Surratt, a leading thinker and empowerer of women in ministry…click here to read it!

First watch the video (at least the first 30 seconds). Then, let me guess what is going through your head…

• That was awesome.
• What were they thinking?!
• I’d love to do that, but never would.
• Why would anyone do that???
• They are definitely crazy!

Did I get any of them right? If I did, it’s only because it’s what would have gone through my mind until I really thought about this post.

While I don’t plan to literally jump off any cliffs in a wingsuit any time soon, figuratively, I’m not that different from them. Some days I look back at the last six months of my life and am convinced I am certifiably crazy. Others might even call me foolish.

But, I’ve decided craziness is all in the eye of the beholder.

For me, life was going just fine six months ago. Great job. Happy family. Awesome friends. Predictable routine. All-in-all comfortable.

The problem with a life that is “just fine” and “comfortable” is that it lacks zeal. It lacks fire. It lacks vision. It lacks trust in something or someone greater than you. It lacks…well…life, actually.

Several months ago a spark ignited a full-on blaze inside of me…and I have no desire to put it out.

When an opportunity came along for me to resign from my job, I couldn’t stop thinking about what life would serve if I stepped off the cliff. Pursuing a call. Pursuing a purpose. Pursuing craziness. All with a burning never felt before. All with an inexplicable trust in God.

Bye, bye to the comfort of working for a hugely successful, admirable and growing global company in the midst of a global recession. Hello wing suit of faith.

I had relatively logical reasons for leaving…my health, diversifying our family income, filling unmet needs in the marketplace while working for myself…but, mostly, it was this really crazy desire to plant a church called Bloom with amazing friends.

I probably could have stayed at my cushy job to do it, but gave me license to really LIVE Bloom.

It’s easy to list a bunch of superlatives here about how being part of Bloom is changing me. But the more profound way for me to think of the new pursuit is contemplating what wouldn’t have been…

1. FINDING ME: I wouldn’t be chasing after the real me…pursuing God’s plan for me instead of my own plan. Comfort in my own plans was confining my own definition of me to my profession, title and responsibilities. Trust me, the newfound me is much more interesting…much more excited about the future…has many more layers…and is slowly getting more comfortable with my uniqueness.

2. DIVINE TRUST: I wouldn’t have the profound trust I grown to have in God. Given I have no idea what I’m doing, I have to know wisdom is coming from somewhere. Thank God it’s not coming from me.

3. LIVING: I wouldn’t be really alive and fanning the flames of the unquenchable fire that exists when living for a vision. I’d miss this overwhelming compulsion to love others, their individuality, their experiences and all of their cares in a way impossible to describe. I’d be void of a desire never again hold back. That’s quality. That’s life.

Someday maybe I’ll add a wingsuit to the mix. Yeah…no…who am I kidding?! But that’s OK. The point is, I don’t care if people think I’m crazy. Because I see it as a newfound courage. Those guys diving into the open air from cliffs thousands of feet above the ground found something deep inside of themselves. I’m sure of it.

Think before you judge it next time. Crazy? Maybe. Courageous? Definitely.

Find your wing suit and jump.

When craziness unlocks something in your soul, call it courage.