I am a huge fan of the triumphant stories. I love hearing people share about going through what seemed like the darkest depths—when they were so discouraged and weighed down that they never thought they would see the end, but then everything came together and they crushed the obstacles and overcame. I am inspired by the testimony of the couple whose marriage was falling apart, but they somehow persevered and stayed true to their commitment to each other and their hearts began to change; and now, 10 years later, here they are on the other side, talking about their “stronger than ever” love with smiles on their faces. I love seeing confident women telling stories about their past struggles with identity, body image, and believing the lies of the world, and how they overcame those struggles with truth and are on a mission to help other women do the same.

I just love it.  I love ALL the success stories.

But what about the stories with the not-so-successful endings? Or the ones without an ending at all, because the grimy “dark depths” part is the story— at least for all they can see? Why don’t we ever see #InTheGrimeAndLovingIt attached to any instagram post? Well, I think it’s because many people don’t feel like they have a story to share if they can’t finish it up with, “but everything is super de-duper wonderful now,” or “but it all worked out and we’re millionaires!” Now don’t get me wrong; I am extremely happy for those people that it does work that way for, but it’s just not everyone’s reality.

I don’t think it would be a stretch to say that the majority of the people around us are not in the wrapped-up-with-a-pretty-bow stage of their story right now. They’re in the cut-the-wrapping-paper-too-short-so-you-have-to-rip-it-all-off-and-cut-another-piece-only-to-realize-at-the-last-fold-that-you-are-out-of-tape stage. Maybe I’m the only one that this happens to at Christmas, but it’s sort of the analogy that I imagine when I think of what relates to my life right now. I have no pretty bow. I have hard, discouraged, defeated, and stressed. And those do NOT make for pretty decorations, TBH.

Life is freaking hard. There are lots of days when I feel the pressure on me like the Instant Pot making your bone broth. One thing goes wrong, seeming to start a cascade of things going wrong that makes me *almost* lose my mind and want to say cuss words while I’m driving. I feel defeated by what the next day entails before it even gets here, and it is hard to find purpose in what I’m doing when I can’t see past the obligations that just keep stacking up. There are days where I just feel overwhelmed, like I live in a constant mode of waiting for this season to end, so I can get on to the next—because the grass is always greener over there, right?

Writing this makes me feel kind of uncomfortable because I’m really not great at sharing my struggles. Although I am learning that it is okay necessary to be more than just coffee and chocolate (and I will neither confirm nor deny that I have some of both sitting next to me…). It’s not fair to only share the highlights; even though those are part of life too, they aren’t ever the whole story.  And quite honestly, I haven’t shared on this blog in months because I haven’t been able to wrap anything up with a “pretty bow” ending. Even though I know that almost two years ago I felt a calling to be intentional with my life in this way, I have still allowed the enemy to tell me that I don’t have it all together enough. I’ve bought into the lie that not having a pretty bow must mean that I don’t have anything of value to share. LIES.

So here it is; this is life right now.  This is the grind, the part that is not amazing but strengthens me for a bigger purpose and makes my faith stronger as I am stretched and challenged. The part where I must decide how much I really believe God when He tells me that His strength is made perfect in my weakness.  I can’t see the whole picture, but I am assured that I don’t have to carry the burden all on my own because He cares about me and is ready and waiting to carry it for me. My forgetful human self needs these reminders every. single. day.

Life’s going to get even harder; I know.  I mean, I don’t even have kids yet. But maybe what I’m learning now is preparing me for that and it’s teaching me things that are going to be necessary for survival and sanity when that season comes.

Not to make comparisons to anyone else, because I think comparison is almost always a bad idea, but I do acknowledge that the obstacles in my life probably don’t hold a candle to what some others are walking through. I get that, and right now this is what “hard” means for me, and it’s going to be different than what hard means for you, and her, and anyone else. But I do think we can all relate to this on some level because we’re all human.

That’s why I share this. Because too many people feel alone in the hard stuff and believe the lie that the difficulty somehow diminishes their ability to fulfill the purpose God created them for. Not being able to fix things on our own makes us feel like complete failures.  It hangs over our heads and pushes us down and keeps us from living the bold life for which we were made to live. But we were actually  never supposed to do it on our own. That all-on-our-own thing is something we made up, and it isn’t how God operates. I am so thankful for that truth to hold onto.

Maybe one day, this will be one of those stories that I can look back on and see the purpose through it all…and maybe I won’t. But right now, I will continue to grow, and be stretched, and cry, and grow some more, and hold on to the truths that I know and share the story along the way—even when there is no sparkly bow on top.

I can’t imagine I’m the only good little church girl who has ever been told to “wait for the man who _______.”

*Insert assortment of dreamy one-liners collected from Robin Jones Gunn books.*

Oh, and can we also talk about “your list?” I know you have a list. You know, the one that your youth pastor told you to make in seventh grade. “The list” of attributes, likes, dislikes, etc. that your future husband MUST have, and if he is missing any one of them then, DUH! He is not the one.

We are told so many things about the men we are in waiting for.

But the one thing I was never told about the man I was “supposed to wait for” was that he would, in fact NOT be perfect. He would not be what I was looking for, he would not be “my type,” and he definitely would not match up perfectly with my “list.”

…AT ALL!

So when I met my now-fiancé (WOOP WOOP! 😍), I knew that he was absolutely NOT “the one.” He wasn’t. He wasn’t the one from my Pinterest boards, he wasn’t a squeaky clean small town church boy (which is pretty surprising considering the college we met at). He didn’t drive a truck, and country music was not his favorite. (Yes, those were on my list. *insert eyeroll*)

In fact, rap music was his favorite (gasp!), he did not grow up in church (double gasp!), and he drove a Toyota Camry.

Boy BYEEEEEEE.

Pretty much within the hour of arriving at college on freshmen move-in day, I was planning how to best stage my stuff to look like the cover of the Pottery Barn magazine, and Graham was planning how he was going to move in on me.

But I was not interested, and I didn’t even give him the time of day. Literally. But we can tell that story later…

But that boy was persistent. He had his eye on me from day 1. He was convinced that we were supposed to be together, and I was convinced we weren’t. We went on multiple “Williams Walks” (as the deep talk-walks are affectionately known at our college) that consisted of him telling me how he felt and me confidently telling him that it was not going to happen.

I wish I could say, ” I faithfully prayed about it and God told me we were not supposed to be together,” but I didn’t pray about it. I didn’t have to. I already knew that he was not the one, and I know best, right?

WRONG.

Yes, I was wrong.

Slowly, God began to break down every pre-conceived notion and false expectation I had in my head about “the one.” I stopped looking at what he wasn’t, and I started seeing his heart. I noticed how deeply he cared about me and how he pursued me the way the Lord does. I noticed a genuineness in him when he talked about his faith. “Sunday school answers” were not even a part of his life or vocabulary and he was just real.

He was so different from what was familiar to me. He had a messy past that he didn’t try to hide. He was always vulnerable and honest and he had a constant willingness to improve in all areas of his life. (What a man 😍). Getting to know him opened up my eyes and heart to so many things that I was never exposed to in my comfortable little life. His background was so much different than mine, and he had a perspective on things that I never could. He built up my confidence and saw things in me that I didn’t see in myself.

I began to realize that all of that “list” stuff didn’t matter.

This process of change in me didn’t happen overnight, though. There were so many ups and downs and back-and-forths and moments of major unsureness.  Because I was scared. I read every one of those “an open letter to” articles and I looked everywhere else for the answers. (Please, if you read those articles, STOP! Seriously. You will drive yourself insane with everyone else’s opinions in your head!…but keep reading this one! :))  I was so confused and I hurt Graham so many times because of it. We both made mistakes, but we learned from them and we are better because of them. We talk often about how it was really a blessing that we were able to go through hard things so early on in our relationship because we are so much stronger now and (hopefully) more prepared for the hard times that will come down the road.

There is so much more to add to the story, and I know I left out some big gaps, but I hope I am conveying the bigger picture here. I share all this because I know I can’t be the only girl who has grown up with preconceived notions and expectations about the man she is told to “wait for.” I over-analyzed every little thing like a maniac and made every imperfection in him “proof” that he just wasn’t the one.

Poor guy. What a trooper!

I believe God gives us stories so that we can share them as a way to relate to others and draw closer to those around us. And I want others to know that it actually is ok to be with someone who isn’t perfect, but strives to become more like Jesus every day. Someone who maybe doesn’t fit the mold that you made, but fits perfectly into the mold that God made for you.

I sure wish I would have been told this three-and-a-half years ago.

Gosh, there are so many other details about our relationship that are so precious to me and can’t imagine never knowing them. I still cannot fathom that I get to have a love story like this.

And I am definitely not here to say that I read all the right books and prayed enough of the right prayers and was perfect enough that God decided I deserved to be blessed in this way. Because I didn’t. I still don’t deserve Graham, and I am still not perfect. But God is good; even to those who are imperfect.

I am here to say, don’t limit yourself to the little box that you’ve created. Throw your expectations out the window and see what it is that God wants for you. I can’t imagine how boring and predictable my life would be if I stuck to my “list.”

Now,  here I am sitting at Bread Co. with my 5th treatyoself pumkin muffin of the week (because midterms, ok)…

…waiting for the man who I get to marry in 316 days to arrive at the airport ❤️🙌🏼❤️

Wow. I am so glad that I was wrong!!!