... these boots are made for...

... these boots are made for... Recovery

Friends, I have felt out of sorts for a while.  Much of my life I have felt like a square peg in a round
hole.  I talk too loud. I talk too much. I feel deeply. I over commit and become greatly invested in the lives of those I love and care about.  I am a person of excess.  If I love boots, I want all the pairs of boots. Every color, every type: spike heeled, low heeled, leather riding boot, fun-fancy cowboy boots, warm cozy Uggs, wacky colorful rain boots, and now the ankle booties.  My mind becomes fixed with all the things, and how I can scrimp on the grocery budget here, and the household budget here, to scrape together the funds for the perfect pair of boots.  They will be on sale, of course. That is one excuse I always use to reassure myself.

But friends, it's not just about the boots.  My brain suffers from a disease of compulsion.  It doesn't have to be footwear.  It could be healthy compulsions, such as apples. In autumn when the most delicious apples to ever hit your mouth are coming straight from the orchards in Michigan to my fruit bowl in Indiana, I CAN NOT GET ENOUGH.  My brain thinks about the apples all the live long day.  The crispness, the different flavors, sweetness, bitterness, yellow, red, green, and shades of the fuiji sunset.  Apples are healthy right?  So no harm.

Friends, this is where I had to get real with my warped way of thinking.  Too much of anything is not good for me.  I'm going to repeat that for myself, because I can be a slow learner at times.

Too much of anything is not healthy for you (Becca).

In the spring of 2014, I had to become very  honest with myself.  I was feeling very out of sorts.  Life was not going according to my expectations.  I needed to "slow my roll," and adjust my thinking.  I can't explain it, but the Lord impressed upon me, "Go where you can feel accepted."

I felt compelled to google a ministry I had read about on a family member's FaceBook page,
Celebrate Recovery.  The Celebrate Recovery website had a location locator (that phrase seems like the opposite of an oxymoron).  Low and behold, there was a church 5 minutes from my home that hosted a Celebrate Recovery on Thursday evenings.

My husband relented to be in charge of the fellers, and I walked through the doors of Grace Fellowship Church.  I felt so nervous.  Like a middle school girl on the first day, anxiously anticipating what the program would be like, but nervous as can be.

The evening proved to be amazing. Soul cleansing.  After a time of praise and worship, and a short lesson, they played a reflection song over the sound system with corresponding lyrics on the big screens.  The song was Undo by Rush of Fools.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E0K_cwy81tg

Friends, I sat in a room full of complete strangers and sobbed.  The Lord had nudged me, I obeyed and took a leap of faith to walk through the doors of a new place, and He began the journey of bringing me home.

Do I still have racing compulsive thoughts? Absolutely.  I now use my accountability tribe, a group of trusted friends, soul mates, sisters in Jesus, to inform me they are seeing signs.  I take time each day to think through my my actions and thoughts and reflect on  whether or not they were the healthiest.  And the beauty of my reflection time, is that I generally do it at night before I hit the hay.  Then I thank the Lord for the gift that day has been.  One of my accountability tribe members gave me the sign to the right after we had both logged a bit of time at CR.

"May every sunset hold more promise. May every sunset hold more peace."

That is one of the mantras I use to "self-talk" when doing daily reflection.  It is one of the gifts of taking the scary first step and walking through the doors of Celebrate Recovery.  I still love boots.  I often wear them on Thursday nights.  When I take a break and wear sneakers, there is an old-timer who always asks, "Hey cowgirl, Where are your boots tonight?"