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Updated: Sep 6, 2021

Anyone who knows me knows that if you want to make my day, get to know me better, or bribe me to get out of the house, you must have a cup of coffee in your hand.

Be it iced with vanilla syrup, cream and sugar or hot with caramel-drizzled whip cream on top, coffee is the quickest way to get to my heart. And, it's the best way I've found to get to know someone better, which is—quite frankly—the mood I want to set for every post I write for the blog. I want anything you read, watch, or listen to here on the website be no different than you and me chatting over a cup of coffee, where you can learn something about me, and I can learn something about you.

In all my twenty years of living, I've found no better way than this. The incomparable, perfect, and beautiful tradition of getting to know someone over a cup of coffee has and never will change.

And, ironically enough, this is exactly what I'm going to be writing about on today's blog:


And, not just about change—

but about how much I absolutely despise it.

If the purpose of today's post is to find out a little bit more about each other, you should add this to your list about me:

I. Hate. Change.

Believe me—I know that hate is a strong word! But, that is exactly why I used it to describe how I feel about change. I hate it! And, I always have!

In fact, it's the reason why I've followed the same makeup routine since my junior year of high school. It's why I've been getting the same color on my acrylic nails for years. I hate change so much that even when I genuinely try to order something different at Chipotle, it's the same chicken burrito I've eaten since I found out about the restaurant. I listen to the same playlist, shop at the same stores, and rewatch the same episodes of my favorite sitcom.

I can't say it enough:

I hate change.

And, while that may seem like a mystery to you (And, kind of crazy, if you're honest. Don't worry; I'm not offended.), my nasty relationship with change began a little more seriously.

Let me take you back to where it all started:

It was nine years ago.

The year was 2012.

And, I was a twelve-year-old seventh-grader on the brink of an eating disorder.

I started going to a therapist, and we met in her small, eggshell-white office once or twice a week. I remember her always poised with her clipboard close to her chest, so I couldn't see her notes (which I would imagine later what she could've written about me). But, after about 2-3 sessions in, that was no longer a mystery to me, as she told me and my parents plainly what her notes concluded.

I had an adjustment disorder, which she went on to explain, severe reactions to stress.

And, can I tell you, reader? I didn't take that too well. I was already concerned about taking my diet too far, but another disorder? I was very uneasy. But, after having more sessions and studying what the disorder meant, I learned that this type of disorder typically only lasts until I can adjust to the change that took place in my life, which gave me hope. But, I also learned that the stress is often caused by the feature of today's post:


Go figure.

The one thing that I can't escape, the one thing that happens over and over again for as long as I'm alive is the thing I, at one point, was diagnosed not to adjust well too.


And, as of now, I can't talk about change without talking about the year 2020.

I know, I know. I'm sick of talking about it too. But, you want to talk about change?

The year 2020 changed more times in a year than in all of my twenty years of living. And, I was so far removed from what I walked through in 2012, I was sure that my diagnosis wouldn't catch up with me nine years later...

...until it did.

Until the severe reactions I had as a twelve-year-old skipping meals manifested itself as a twenty-year-old with panic attacks and depression, desiring to isolate.

In no way am I labeling my experience in 2020 as the worst experience. I know full well we've all had rugs pulled out from under us last year. But, after hearing that the diagnosis is the same...let's just say I began to grow very frustrated with God.

Because, hello! It's been nine years, God. I think by now You oughta deliver me from this!

And, I won't act like I know exactly what His response is to me, but I do know that in one way or another, He is delivering me. After all, if you think about it, I can't get better at dealing with change if I never go through any change. And, lucky for me, the world is always changing. My life is always changing.

And, He loves me enough to give me mentors to submit to, helpful resources to understand more about the way God designed our brains, and people to call when I need them to help me walk through those changes, knowing that I don't do well when they come my way.

And, what's more? He loved me enough to give me The One who never changes:

His Son, Jesus Christ.

Hebrews 13:8 says very plainly, Jesus Christ remains the same yesterday, today, and forever.

And, in an ever-changing world, I need that kind of hope. Because, you know what? The year 2020 isn't going to be the last whirlwind of change we'll walk through. I mean, have you seen these past couple of months of 2021? More changes have already come! And, they're going to keep coming. Good changes, bad changes, small changes, big changes. All kinds of change are going to take place in the world around us, within our own homes, our jobs, our friends, our families. But, Jesus is the one who never changes. And, as much as I've prayed that God would change my situation, I've learned that God is way more interested in changing me. And, if I have to go through changes I won't like to change into the woman I'm supposed to be, so be it, God. I surrender. And, thank You for never changing up on me.

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