Scraps of Grace

Being a young girl in college is a lot.

You’re not just studying for your tests.

You’re studying how everyone else dresses, how they act, and mostly what everyone else believes.

And even if no one says it, there’s a quiet pressure to adjust yourself. To go places you’re not comfortable with, to do things you know aren’t right, or even to laugh at the rude comment an older girl made about a sweet girl who doesn’t measure up to her idea of cool.

All of this, just to fit in. A lot of times, all of our heart’s true opinions and morals fly out the window. It could be for the guy who will never want to settle down with you. Or maybe for the friend who only likes you when she can laugh at your mistakes.

This is often the age where we start to confuse attention with affection. Next thing you know, you’re in the depths of too many late nights with a shattered heart.

Not because you’re stupid.

Not because you’re impure, and not because you’re weak.

But because slowly trying to fit in with this world will take you places you were never, ever meant to go.

It rarely happens all at once. It’s in the small decisions. Small moments where you silence your spirit to feel included.

This path of life will lead to exhaustion and destruction. It will chip away the best parts of you.

Here’s the gentle truth. Gods plan was never destruction disguised as belonging. He doesn’t lead his daughters through chaos just to feel accepted. He doesn’t ask you to trade in your peace for temporary acceptance. If anything he calls you higher. Not harsher, but higher.

And if you’re reading this thinking you’ve already bent, I understand, but you couldn’t be more wrong.

God’s grace still covers you. We can’t explain the blood of Jesus, but we can’t argue with it either.

You are not disqualified, you are redeemed. The woman you’ve always hoped to be is inside. God can use our lowest moments for our highest calling.

Love,

Emily

Verse:

Proverbs 14:12- There is a way that seems right to a man,
But its end is the way of death.

Song: A Forgiving God- SEU Worship

Emily Barbour

There was a time in my life where- without a doubt- “the scale” was the very most important thing in my life. This time, I’m talking about the bathroom scale. The one you step on to make sure you haven’t gone up a few pounds after being so busy you don’t have time to cook again.

Or after a long vacation where you decide to let the diet go.

Either way- you stepped on the scale, and the simple number it read could make or break your day. It could make you feel uplifted or defeated in a matter of seconds.

Maybe your scale is not a bathroom scale, but another kind of scale. Maybe it’s gratification from your boss. Or maybe being wanted by as many boys as possible. Or even having the most friends or people telling you that you have the cutest clothes.

Your scale could even be the measure of the perfect Christian girl, who makes no mistakes and doesn’t have a messy testimony.

If you’re a human being, you have a scale of some sort. You have a way you are looking to be just right and fit in. The issue with these scales is they are ever changing.

What felt like enough last year, doesn’t feel like enough now.

You finally feel confident in one area, and now you’re comparing yourself in another.

You grow, and then you move the standard.

You confess, and wonder if you confessed enough.

Or maybe even you’ve healed- but aren’t sure if you’ve healed the right way.

It’s exhausting.

If you’re like me, you may not be focusing as much on wanting to grow as wanting to be measured well.

You want other people to see you as “skinny” enough. Or “fit enough,” “smart enough” the list is endless.

You want to know you’re good. You want to know you’ve made up for mistakes, you want to know you won’t be disqualified or judged by people.

This changes from growth to fear.

I am learning that as human beings, we will never hit the perfect number on the scale. We must decide for ourselves we are done measuring.

I’ve been studying the book of Psalms in a “Precept Upon Precept” study with Kay Arthur.

I found myself in tears because the Lord had sent me a Psalm that fit directly into where I was in life.

David says “many are saying of me, ‘God will not deliver him.’”

Don’t we all know that feeling?

The quiet feeling that people will look at us based on their own scale and think “God won’t redeem her” “look what she did.” Even “look what has happened to her.”

Aren’t these assumptions a pretty big reason why we try so hard to keep up with these scales in the first place? Because of the quiet fear that people might say these things about us?

But Psalm 3 does not end with this accusation. It says “but you, O Lord, are a shield around me. The one who lifts my head high.”

Not the one who hands me a scorecard.

Not the one who keeps me measuring.

Not the one who asks me to prove I’m worthy of blessings when others may say I’m not.

But. The. One. Who. Lifts. My. Head.

This is the Lord’s invitation to us. To step off the scale. To stop living in a way that makes us feel our worth could ever be calculated in the first place. This invitation isn’t just for anyone, but rather for those who fear the Lord and follow Him.

Shields don’t require us to defend ourselves. A lifted head doesn’t need a scale beneath it. It’s not about becoming better, rather surrounding our lives to the one who makes us better while He protects our hearts.

If you are like me and no longer want to live by ever-changing standards- I pray the Lord will touch your heart as he did mine and remind you your worth was never about performance. This may not be an instant feeling, but I want you to know that all that matters is surrender to him and follow his commands.

Verse: Psalm 147:11-

“The Lord delights in those who fear him,

who put their hope in his steadfast love.”

Worship song: Jireh- Elevation Worship, Maverick City Music

To start- I have known for a while that this was something I needed to write about, even though I feel wildly unqualified to do it well. This is not advice. It is not a guide. It is simply me learning in real time and inviting you to walk beside me while I do.

Lately, I’ve started realizing I have a lot of knowledge of spiritual warfare, but such a lack in my prayer life. I’ve been walking through some seasons that require a lot of prayer, but I find it so hard to do. Why?

The answer to this is super simple. As humans, we have a really hard time letting go. And isn’t that the point of prayer? To release what we are gripping so tightly and come into connection with the one who can actually do something about it?

But we fight so hard not to because as hard as this situation is, we want to remain in control when we should be doing the opposite.

Letting go feels to us like losing control. When we hold onto something, replay it, analyze it, or sit in the weight of it it feels like we are doing something about it, when we’re really being destructive. We believe if we let it go, we aren’t taking it seriously and we don’t care about what happened.

Prayer however, asks us to do something very differently. It asks us not to punish ourselves. To release the illusion that we have any control over our pasts and what has already been done- or our future and what is to come.

Maybe surrender and prayer are not about excusing at all, and rather trusting that justice and mercy are not ours to manufacture. Or the weight of tomorrow is too heavy to carry. We can’t redeem ourselves, yet we strive so hard to do so.

So here I am learning.

Learning clenching my fists is not the same as having faith.

Learning that staying in control is not the same as being responsible.

Learning that sometimes the most obedient thing I can do is whisper, “I do not know how to let this go, but I am willing to try.”

And if you feel this way you are not alone.

Scripture:

“Cast your burden on the Lord, and he will sustain you.”

Worship song:

Battle Belongs- Phil Wickham

Have you ever been told you’re “too sensitive?” I have heard that one my whole life. For my very first blog post, I feel like it’s important to go back to the start of my “scrapbook.”- the messy, complicated, but beautiful parts of my story. My childhood was full of moments that shaped me, not always in the easiest ways. I’ll start by saying my parents did everything they could to give me a great life (and they did) but life naturally comes with its own challenges, no matter what.

For as long as I can remember, I felt things deeply. I wasn’t the kind of kid who could just brush off mean words or being left out. I felt those feelings, and I felt them strongly. At a young age, I started to believe that the world was unkind, and there was nothing I could do about it. Like anyone else would, that made me feel small, helpless, and fragile.

I vividly remember the first time I felt inferior. I was 6 years old and in kindergarten. I am 22 now, and most people don’t remember things that far back, but I do. It might sound silly, but my classmates had already started an “earring club.” I didn’t have real earrings, only stickers. I was too scared to get my ears pierced anyway, but suddenly, not having something so small, made me feel like I wasn’t enough. At that time, a seed was planted in me, that fitting in mattered more than standing out.

Before that, I was the little girl who wanted to do everything right, who cared too much about following the rules. In fact, my mom had to pick me up from school if I got in trouble because I cried so hard. But by the time I was six, I learned something else. I learned that people will want you to do certain things- good or bad- just to be accepted. That week I begged for earrings. Not because I wanted them, but I didn’t want to be left out.

That pattern didn’t stop there, it only grew. From quitting horseback riding because no one else did, to playing sports I didn’t even like, to buying shoes I didn’t care about just because they were popular- it all became part of my story. The older I got, the bigger my compromises became. At some point, I even found myself doing plenty of things I knew a young girl shouldn’t, just because I wanted to fit in. These became pieces of my scrapbook that weren’t really meant for me, but pieces that I picked up to blend into the background.

Somewhere along the way, Emily forgot who Emily was. That’s why I’m writing here- because now is when I start piecing it back together. Even through those trying times, when other people had imaginary friends, I had Jesus. Even if I didn’t always follow or obey him, I just knew he never left me.

As soon as I decided it was time to start asking Him about my identity, He was right there to remind me- who I am does not come from what others think, my accomplishments, my mistakes, what I have, or anything else. It only comes from what He says about me. And he says that I am “chosen”, “forgiven”, “flawless”, “redeemed”, and “altogether beautiful.” One of the most wonderful parts I have found in being in a relationship with Christ, is that we don’t need to strive to be anything, we just need to know we are already loved and made in the image of God without trying to fit the mold the world has made for us.

If you’ve ever forgotten who you really are too, maybe you’ll find some of your pieces here alongside me, and become ready to paste your scraps into something whole again. Because as it turns out, our scraps aren’t wasted- they’re just proof that grace can make something beautiful out of every torn page.

Verse: Song of Solomon 4:7 ESV- “You are altogether beautiful, my darling, there is no flaw in you.”

Worship Song- Mirror- LO Worship