I had a breakdown about a week before I released my EP.

The truth was, it was like the third breakdown I'd had over the course of three or four weeks. But this one was actually in front of people.

What really triggered it, was a conversation my husband and I were having with some friends who were visiting from out of town. We were laughing and catching up on life, our recent move and how things had been going for them.

But these aren't the type of friends who we just touch the surface with. And it quickly got to a place of "real-talk."

My husband began to open up with them about some of the personal struggles we were having (a lot of what we believed was the result of some intense spiritual warfare). I alluded to it in my last post when sharing the story behind my EP. But sparing the ugly details, it was one thing after another for us in the months following our move. And it affected us in every way - emotionally, spiritually and financially.

So there I sat, on the brink of tears, while Josh openly shared his heart with our friends.

I wanted to keep things lighthearted.

I wanted to celebrate and focus on all the good that was happening in our lives.

I should be happy, I thought, as I bit my lip and squeezed my eyelids together trying to force back the tears that I knew were inevitable.

But when they finally came, I now understand why - I felt unknown.

Have you ever felt this way? Like you have so much going on behind the surface, but don't know how or why or if you should share?

But your Instagram looks good. And you're still getting Facebook likes on all your cool jokes. So people think you're doing okay.

But then, someone who actually knows you comes over to your house and stares you in the face and asks how you're really doing... and there you are, a puddle on the floor.

Yeah, me too.

Sitting there on the couch, crying my eyes out in front of our friends, was humiliating, YES, but also freeing. Because they didn't run or excuse themselves from the conversation (never mind that they were staying with us that night and had nowhere else to go), but instead responded with, "us too." And we were able to hear how they were really doing and know how to pray and encourage them more.

With all the depression, anxiety and silent battles people are facing, I am more convinced than ever that being our real, honest selves is the only true way to live.

That's much easier to know than believe. And much easier to say than do. I understand. It took many prayers and my hard shell of pride breaking down to admit it. And also, this quote:

But really, THIS QUOTE. 

I'll never forget after my husband and I came on staff at a prior church, one of the volunteers made a comment to someone that we looked like "the perfect Christian family" and that they "could never relate" to us.

 Nothing broke my heart more.

Because... if they only knew.

So much of me wanted to find that person and spill out my life story. Tell them every pain and heartache Josh and I had faced in our lifetimes, and how it all felt undermined by their one simple assumption.

But I didn't.

Instead, I took it as a reminder to never judge a cover. Because there is so much more to every person's story, than the Hallmark movie you've probably made up in your head.

And I also took it as fuel to continually strive in being known. But ultimately resting in the fact that I already am.

O LORD, you have examined my heart and know everything about me. ‭‭You know when I sit down or stand up. You know my thoughts even when I’m far away. You see me when I travel and when I rest at home. You know everything I do. You know what I am going to say even before I say it, LORD. You go before me and follow me. You place your hand of blessing on my head. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too great for me to understand!

‭‭Psalms‬ ‭139:2-6‬ ‭

"Those were the best days." She said with a smile, as she watched me push my 15 month old daughter around in a shopping cart at Old Navy. She was a beautiful elderly lady, that couldn't have been much younger than 80. Hannah kindly responded to her sweet voice and smile by reaching up to her with open arms and a toothy grin (I promise that girl has a sense for people - she knows the kind hearts).

I wanted to stay and talk. Find out how many children, grandchildren and maybe even great-grandchildren that she had. But I was too busy frantically searching for my 2 year old who was running around the store. So I told her in my most polite, don't-want-to-be-rude-but-really-gotta-run voice, "to have fun shopping!" She gave me a knowing smile as I pushed my cart away. And as I thought about it, what I really wanted to ask that sweet lady - was what made her believe these days, these long, busy, dirty toddler days, "were the best?" 

Because, let's be honest, these days I get tired. I get cranky. I look in the mirror and feel like I've aged five years in just the last two. If we're judging things on how often I shower and actually get dressed, mop my floors and leave dishes in the sink - these are definitely not my best days. 

But I have a feeling that's not what the sweet old (navy) lady was remembering when she looked down at my precious daughter.  

I have a feeling she was remembering her own daughter's first words. Seeing her walk for the first time. Or reach up and say, "mama." She was remembering those moments when her baby cried and only needed her. Only wanted her. 

There will be days, pretty soon actually, when I won't be changing diapers anymore. But that doesn't mean there won't be other dirty things I'll have to deal with. Like insecurities and self-esteem and teaching my children to have a Christian-worldview in a world that needs Christ so desperately.

Yes, there are challenging days ahead. 

God knew I needed a simple reminder to enjoy these moments while they are still young. While they still, not only need me but, want me. 

I believe this was also a reminder that I need those relationships with wiser, older woman who have been in my shoes and have walked where I've walked. While the worlds we live in may look differently, every baby is born the same - naked and needy. And there is wisdom in looking back that I may not see right now. 

So while the days may seem longer and I may in fact appear more tired than usual - it's because they are and I am. But I have a strong feeling that when I look back on the days I had a one and two year old running around the house, beating on toy drums and crunching Cheerios between their tiny toes, I'll remember those wise words and agree, "Those were the best days."  

There are some things I don't want to write about.

I am, by nature, an optimistic person. One who desires to focus on the positive and believe there is a little good in all of us. But tonight, I came face to face with pure evil. A kind of evil that I didn't know people were actually capable of outside of cable television.

I watched ISIS murder 30 Ethiopian Christians. 

And this just happened this week. There was another ISIS case of persecution/terrorism earlier this year (in February) as well - and I ignored it then. I can't ignore it again. 

I am not linking to the video, ONLY because I do not believe this is something everyone needs to see. But some, some may need to see it. I truly believe I was one of those people (even though, I really really wish I wasn't). 

If I'm being honest, I haven't been very in tune with the world at large. I could blame it on motherhood and having young babies to care for, but I knew within 20 minutes after the news broke yesterday that Tim Tebow was going to be signed to the Philadelphia Eagles. (ESPN was on in the background as I was getting my kids dressed for bed and my ears perked up at "Tebow," what can I say?) I'm also pretty up-to-date on all of my engaged, newly married and pregnant friends thanks to social media. No, I think the real truth is that I have become so consumed with my comfortable American life, that I have become apathetic to the rest of the hurting world. 

Not intentionally. But not unintentionally, either. 

Can I be real about something? American Christianity is shallow. My faith is shallow. 

Every morning I get up, and never worry about dying because I love Jesus. Not even for one second. 

And let me tell you - lots of "worries" cross my mind. "Do I have to change another poop this morning? Can I sleep for five more minutes? Are we out of coffee?" Just to name a few. 

Like I said. Super shallow. 

I don't even know how I ended up here. With such a weak faith, I mean.

I went to Bible college. I married a pastor. I read my Bible. I pray... oh, do I pray. I listen to Christian music. I sing worship music. I spend nearly half of my week at church, for goodness sakes. 

But yet, I barely touch the surface of what it truly means to live for Christ. Not in the context of what my brothers and sisters in Ethiopia (and several other countries) are facing. I imagine they read and cling to these verses a little differently than I.

“Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? As it is written: ‘For your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.’ ”

— Romans 8:35-36

Have you ever stopped to think about why Christianity is so easy in America? 

And before you try to argue that it's not - can I point out that I just heard Miranda Lambert (and a handful of other artists) thank Jesus Christ for an ACM Award on national television?

For an ACM Award. 

They will surely live to face another day. In fact, they may even get a few iTunes sales out of it. 

And good for them. I am not saying this is right or wrong - but just a matter of fact. America, the land of the free. We have it good, don't we? Or do we.

America, with all it's fame and glory, has made a celebrity of Jesus. Christianity is just another genre. Pick a weekend show to attend. Hashtag your allegiance on social media. And don't forget to pick up your copy of our new worship album, when you leave. There is nothing inherently bad about any of that. But the reason Christianity is so easy in America, is because there is nothing really hard about any of it either. 

Saying you love Jesus in America, is like saying you love coffee. 

Some love it, some hate it, some are fanatically addicted to it. But nobody is really offended by it.  

And the heavy burden on my heart... is because they should be. They should be offended by Jesus. Because the gospel, the whole foundation of Christianity, is offensive.

And if you don't believe it's offensive, try telling that to ISIS.

After I stumbled upon "the video" earlier, and saw... the murder... the blood... I quickly turned it off. My mind couldn't process it as real. Not at first. It was just another gory movie. But then, my heart began to break. As I realized these were my brothers... soldiers of the faith... falling to their death because of the same faith I claim. Because of the same name I sing about every weekend. Because of a man who laid down His life for us... they were laying down theirs.

“Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will find it. ”

— Matthew 16:24-25

There are many who thank God for the blessing of being born in America. A country where we have the freedom of speech and religion. To believe strongly and voice those beliefs (like I'm doing right now) on a public platform. And I have been guilty of thanking God for this "blessing" as well. 

But I think we may have it backwards. 

I think the Christians being persecuted in the middle east are the ones being truly blessed. And I think our biggest question here in America should be... why is our faith so shallow? 

“Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.”

— Matthew 5:11-12