31days // Learning to Walk

I remember when I decided to cut out meat. Or should I say, I remember the last time I decided to cut out meat. I was in Boston, sitting at a restaurant with friends. I was stuck without exercise for six weeks due to my good friend boot, so I told myself I would focus on nutrition. Sitting in this restaurant, something inside of me made up my mind, I was going to try going pescatarian, cutting out all meat except seafood. 

I remember consciously deciding not to tell anyone. I was visiting my friend, who's been a pescatarian for as long as I've known her, and I wasn't going to tell her about my decision. Why? Because I was afraid that I would fail. 

You see, I had tried cutting out meat before. Many times, actually. And none of those times lasted more than a week or so; I just couldn't do it. I had little faith in myself that this would be any different. And I probably wouldn't have told anyone that day, if it hadn't been for a mix up with my fish tacos that left me with a plate of beef tacos (I had a good laugh over that one). 

Welp, here I am, over a year later. Haven't had meat since that accidental bite of taco, and cut out seafood 5 months ago. Maaaybe, I should have had a little more faith in myself. 

{Sharing more pictures from Fall Day. Because I have enough to fill every post from now until the end of 31days. You're welcome.}

So why do I tell this story? Because the same thing happened the day that I decided to strive for purity in relationships. Just like I will never forget that moment in that Boston restaurant, I will never forget that moment on my way to San Diego. I made up my mind that I was going to try this, try this new thing that went against every instinct I knew. But I didn't tell anyone, because something within me felt destined to fail. 

And I felt that way for a long time, that I was either succeeding or failing. There were days that I thought this purity thing was a piece of cake, months actually. And then, boom, a day hit where I fell flat on my face. I'd struggle with feeling like a failure for days. 

I don't think that's how it works. I'm fairly certain that running off success and failure can only lead to two things: pride and shame. The fact of the matter is, there are going to be easy days. There are going to be days where my heart tangibly feels different than it was before, and I can feel the purity of Jesus Christ running through my veins. The purity that only He can put there in the first place. 

There are going to be those days, and there are going to be hard ones. There are going to be temptations. There are going to be moments where I look in the mirror and find a girl I thought I left behind. There are going to be days when purity is a fight, one that can feel physically exhausting. 

And on those hard days? You bet I need Jesus. You bet that I can't do it on my own. But guess what. I need Him just as much on the easy days. Because purity never comes from me, it always comes from Him. 

I feel like pursuing purity for me, is learning to walk all over again. And it's not just a one time thing, I have to learn and re-learn every single day. 

On a particularly difficult morning, I opened my Jesus Calling devotional to find this. It spoke to me, and maybe it will speak to you:

Some of my children I've gifted with abundant strength and stamina. Others, like you, have received the humble gift of frailty. Your fragility is not a punishment, nor does it indicate a lack of faith. On the contrary, weak ones like you must live by faith, depending on me to get you through the day. 

-Jesus Calling, by Sarah Young

I am a frail one. I am a fragile one, a weak one. Please don't, for one second, read my blog and think that I have it all figured out. Those that know me best, know that I struggle. They see me on those easy days, and they see me on those hard ones. I'm pretty sure they can tell just by one look which one of the two it is. 

I struggle. I stumble. I fall. 

But each time that I do? I get up, and I learn to walk all over again.