Author: Fitgritandgrace

I love social media and how it connects us. I love staying in touch with old friends and building relationships with new ones. But I want to do it face to face right now, not in my pajamas watching Impractical Jokers on the couch.

I want to sit at tables and grab hands. I want to open my front door with arms open for a hug. I want to take walks and talk about hard things. I want to hear people laugh and wipe my silly happy tears as I laugh along with them. I want to see hearts beating and watch lives change.

I love to look at your pictures, laugh at your memes, and read what you have to say, but right now I think I’m supposed to do a little more than scroll through peoples lives.

I feel called to go out and meet you where you are, show love, have faith, hold you up, let you hold me, mend heart’s, and keep digging deeper into my dream.

I continuously feel lead to do things that God knows I think are scary. I’m shy and quiet and am most comfortable with my own thoughts and my own voice. But still, he says go do this, Brooke. I’ll be right here with you and I’m not giving you another choice.

I’m going to take some time for people, some time to write and sing. It’s going to be really good.

So goodbye social media, just for a little while. God’s got an experiment for me. I think he wants me to make people smile.

You can still catch my blog on Facebook, WordPress automatically posts my published posts!

Happy Independence Day!

It’s a holiday and even though we may have the day off work, we typically have a full day of fun, family, food, and fireworks leaving little time for a workout.

I have three tips for holiday workouts.

1. Wake up and workout.

Just get it done right away!

And make it something simple that you don’t have to think about. On holidays I tell myself 3 miles or 30 minutes. So I either run three miles or do a 30 minute video.

It gets your day started off with a good mindset, gets you going, and then you have the rest of your day to relax and have fun!

2. Eat the yummy food!

But eat smarter, and drink LOTS of water.

I still eat the burgers and brats and dips and all the good things, but I pass on the chips because I know I can’t just eat a few, and I pass on the buns! Instead I eat veggies with the dip and wrap my burgers in lettuce.

And I sub water for all the drinks, usually flavored with grape crystal light because that’s my weakness.

3. Don’t beat yourself up!

So what if your workout isn’t great or doesn’t happen. Maybe you indulge in a little too much food. Recognize it and work harder tomorrow!

My workout today was a 3 mile run and a quick set of 25 push-ups, 50 crunches, and 1 minute planks on each side.

I went to a concert with some girlfriends last weekend. I’d kind of been having just a blah week, a blah month maybe? Constantly overthinking, overestimating, overstepping, just all over the place and I was over it. The musician we had come to see was at the very end. The aftershow of course and after feeling old and melting for two hours in the Illinois summer heat, I felt I’d once again overestimated my endurance and tolerance for late nights and drunk girls.

But we stayed to hear Jordan Davis and I’m glad he broke it down for me.

He put down the electricity and told the guys in the band to have a seat for a minute. He picked up his acoustic guitar and began to play music that he’d grown up listening to. He played and felt and dealt, and it was broken down to just his voice and his heart laid out.

I love this broken down place and should go there more often.

Words sound so much prettier pouring out of our lips when they’re untouched by anything other than our hearts.

When we lay down our noise and clamor in exchange for the beats in our chest and the songs we’ve been singing our whole lives, that’s beautiful and that’s broken down.

People won’t always know the words to sing along to our song. They may get unsteady because they’ve never heard it. And sometimes our broken down places will not be met with open hearts and kind faces. But we sing anyway, without the lies and drums they think we need in hopes that one day they’ll hear us for who we are. Maybe then they’ll get it.

So with our hands shaking and our faces blushing red. We just might find we never needed the accompaniment, just our raw voices poured out instead.

Only then can we get broken down to the grit of who we are. A brokenness that will help us focus less on where we’re going, and to wholly embrace and live right where we are.

Maybe you think I’m foolish for sharing feelings for all to see. But maybe my broken down feelings are helping someone other than me.

Be secretly incredible. – Bob Goff

Sometimes I think we put so much effort into creating a pretty public image, that we neglect the foundation of our hearts.

How’s your heart?

It’s really easy for me to put on some wispy lashes, really good concealer, bronze my cheekbones, and go out and make a nice impression.  But my heart’s not always in it.  And I want to be all in.  So now I’m asking myself if my heart’s not all in, why am I doing this thing?

I want to do better at truly being better.  It’s hard work to have a good heart.  People won’t always recognize your progress, they may not understand your choices, and they may see their way out of your life.

2 Corinthians 4:16-18

¹⁶ Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. ¹⁷ For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. ¹⁸ So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.

I don’t want to lose my heart.  I have a heart for loving Jesus, a heart for loving people, and heart for loving the person I’m being called to be, but I have to stop placing acceptance in front of redemption. Redemption is the point and acceptance has already been granted by the only one who really matters.

The key to being secretly incredible is trusting in the God that exchanged the blood in his heart for love to beat in our chests.

How’s your heart?

Are you staring up at mountains?  Are you dreading the climb, afraid of crashing down the side on the way up?  Are you not sure where to start?  Are you questioning whether or not you are even cut out to climb up a mountain at all?  Maybe you’re thinking it’s just better if you stay where you are with two feet on the ground. I am too.  I’m right here at the bottom with you.

“You have stayed long enough at this mountain. Break camp and advance.”

Deuteronomy 1:6-7

This is Moses earnestly preaching to the Israelite’s. They were in the end of their fortieth year since their coming out of Egypt and were preparing to take possession of Canaan, the land God had promised them. Moses had heard their grumblings and could bear the burden of these people no more.  He reminded them of the struggles God had already brought them through, and that he had literally put this land right there in front of their faces for them to take. His promise was and is and always will be good. He gave them God’s words, break camp and get moving to your promised land.

Aren’t we just like the Israelite’s? God continues to provide for us again and again in our very own wilderness, but when we feel just a hint of struggle we shut down.  We think what God is asking us to do should be easy, and when it’s hard we quit. We stomp our feet, and scream and yell, and we hang our heads in defeat. Then we like to stay there sometimes, don’t we? Throw our own pity party that never ends. We pitch our fits, throw up our tents, and make camp.  Arms crossed, head down, and heart bitter.

I hate that we do that. I hate that I do that. But we like to feel sorry for ourselves and we like others to feel sorry for us too. Why? Probably because staying in our deep pits of messy life stuff is easier than digging our hands and feet into the rock and dirt of our lives.  And when we all get together and share our griefs, handing out sympathy instead of solutions, we simply continue to wallow. We resolve to only stare up at the mountains set before us and think they are too big and we are too small. We forget that Canaan Land is God’s outstretched hand ready to guide us up if we let him.

God is asking us to get over it and get to it. Face your mountain and start climbing. Break camp. Dry your tears, embrace your fears, and toss that bag of sorrows over your shoulders. You have stayed long enough in this place of doubt, and sin, and shame. Advance. Move up the mountain before you into the promised land. The promised plan that God has for us is set right in front of our faces. Climb with me and let’s not be afraid to take it.

Hey pretty girl, I see you wishing that mirror showed a few things different. I see the way your shoulders drop just slightly when you think you’re not enough.  I see those jeans that never zip, and a job that just won’t stick. I see you wishing your hair had a little more curl, and still loving a guy that wanted another girl.  I see those eyes that have lost their pretty shine, and all the times you tell everyone that you’re doin fine. I see those dreams you think aren’t possible.  I see you thinking they must be for another girl in another world.  I see you pretty girl, and I’m asking you to stop wishing and waiting.  Stop minimizing who you are, and forgetting how far you’ve come.  Stop focusing on where you’ve been, and start walking towards where you’re going.  Because if you could see what I see, you’d realize you’ve always been so much more than pretty, girl.  You are beautiful.

I’ve been thinking about what being beautiful means to me.  Where do I find beauty?  What do I proclaim as beautiful?

See, I’m tired of living in a standardized beautiful box, tied up with a bow, waiting for someone else to open me up and say what’s inside.  No, beauty is in our living, in our doing, and in our growing.  Beauty is messing up, saying I’m sorry, learning, and going forward.  Beauty is giving someone your time, your smile, your words, or your hand, and not expecting anything in return.  Beauty is jumping off cliffs not knowing when you’re going to hit the water, but trusting the splash and the swim will be well worth your leap. Beauty is sometimes the ugliness you feel as you’re changing into the new person you’re called to be.

Beauty is being afraid of the plans God has for you, but marching on because THAT’S WHY WE’RE HERE.  Beauty is loving, trusting, and living with your whole heart because there is no other way.  Beauty is letting go of any thoughts, people, or lies that keep you from God, or tell you that you are anyone different than who God says you are. Beauty is listening to truth that sometimes hurts, and then adjusting accordingly.  Beauty is still believing when everyone is telling you to quit.  Beauty is then taking their hands and bringing them along with you, or raising them up above yourself.

Your beauty doesn’t fit in those jeans.  It doesn’t need to.  Your beauty doesn’t have a fancy title. It doesn’t need to. And your beauty does not get defined by another person. It doesn’t need to.  It doesn’t need to because the truth was already spoken over our lives, even before we could think about living them.  The truth is that we were created beautiful.  He said we were created wonderfully because He created us in His own image.

“For you created my inmost being;

you knit me together in my mother’s womb.

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;

your works are wonderful,

I know that full well.”

Psalms 139:14

I want you to find beauty in so much more than faces and places. I  want to dig down deep into hearts, see souls poured out, and live life with arms wide open ready to embrace whatever is in front of you. You are beautiful for more than anything you think you can see in that mirror.

“She was beautiful, but not like those girls in the magazines. She was beautiful, for the way she thought. She was beautiful, for the sparkle in her eyes when she talked about something she loved. She was beautiful, for her ability to make other people smile, even if she was sad. No, she wasn’t beautiful for something as temporary as her looks. She was beautiful, deep down to her soul. She is beautiful.”

-F Scott Fitzgerald

I’m a runner, but I haven’t always been a chaser. I’m a dreamer, but I haven’t always been a believer. Now I’m running scared, chasing my dreams, and believing the God that put them in my heart.

My running started in high school cross country. I ran cross country because high school boys. I hated running actually. And my plan was quickly foiled as no boys were impressed while they waited on the bus for my running partner and I to finish our first race. Even our parents had gone home. Forsaken us as lost runners, most likely to ask permission to quit cross country the minute we arrived home that night. But my parents are those wise kind of people that don’t let you quit things that are good for you. So I finished the season and tried to learn something. I learned it would be best to not sign up for cross country again the next year.

My dreaming started out like the dreams of a lot of little girls. I dreamed of being a singer, a writer, and then of course, Miss America. So fancy and attainable. But it wasn’t long until my voice was muffled by the opinions of people I thought were important. Then all the words I tried to write came out cattywampus on notebook pages. And just like that pageant crowns were being placed on the heads of other girls.

Now I’ve found what I was missing, GRIT.

I didn’t have any fight in me. No dirt on my knees from crawling to a finish line. No hoarse voice from making them hear my songs. No tear stained pages from pouring out my heart with words that I fearfully felt. All I had was a notion that I needed a platform, a stage, and a crown to be who I thought I was supposed to be. I was running with no determination. I was dreaming with no doing. And I was standing on stages where I didn’t belong.

Now, Grit says I run miles and miles on country roads just to see how far I can go.

Grit says keep running because life is a race you have to finish strong

Grit says I sing songs to the beat of my own heart, to lift my head, so my blood bought crown stays straight.

Grit scares me. Grit means I might have to put in more than I get out sometimes. Grit means not giving up when I just want to quit running against the wind. Grit means tasting the gravel and the dirt that people cast on me, chewing them up, and having the tenacity to spit them out every time.

I’ve found Grit and now I’m running scared because I know what it means. I’ve found Grit and now I believe my new dreams aren’t just dreams but commands. I’ve found Grit, and sometimes I have to wear it around my neck so I don’t lose it.

Weight.  We lose it, we gain it, we lift it, we shift it, we take pride in it, and we even hide in it.  Weight.

The people in my circle and I have all been going round and round with this weighty word lately.  We all have different weight goals and methods of getting there, but we all really want the same thing.  A change in our weights; a physical and an emotional change.

One friend is using her beautiful, wonderful change in weight to help others fight for their own change.  Another friend is building up her self-esteem higher and higher every day as she takes back control of her weight.  She is taking care of herself, loving herself, and you can see it all over her pretty face.  And another friend is choosing herself everyday.  I love this one.  She chooses to be herself instead of a number on a scale so that she has the strength to take care of herself and everyone else. And me, I’ve decided to be a lifter of weight.  I’ve lost weight, I’ve gained it, I’ve shifted it, taken pride in it, and certainly have done my fair share of hiding in it.  But now I really like lifting it.

Now I crave that soreness in my shoulders from pressing those weights above my head again and again.  I’m bent on that burn in my legs when I don’t think I can get back up from that last round of squats.  Hurts so good, doesn’t it?  Realizing the heaviness of those weights, but lifting them anyway just plain hurts.

But it’s a welcome hurt. I wake up the next day and  I can’t walk, I can’t sit down, and I cry a little bit as I lift the baby carrier into the car.  The third day it hurts a little more, but I feel a little bit stronger. There it is, that’s what I’m hurting for.  So I grab a heavier set of weights, and I do it all again.

The process of building muscle is painfully slow.  Especially slow for women, I was warned. (Test my patience, oh Lord, you know it needs it.) But when I think about the emotional weight that we all carry, the process makes sense.  We carry these heavy burdens on our shoulders.  We carry titles given to us and titles we give ourselves.  We carry regret, sadness, insecurity, and fear. With all the things bearing down on us, it takes courage, determination, and a whole lot of gritting of teeth to lift them up and off our breaking backs.  So we have to take a little weight at a time, raising the hurt up and down again until it doesn’t feel quite like the same hurt anymore.  The hurt is a little lighter, we are a little stronger, and we are able to add some fear to the bar and start again.

Lifting weights is teaching me a lot about myself.  I’ve been picking my weights up, one at a time.  It feels good to get them off of my chest.  Some days the weights feel a little heavier than the day before, and some days I can pile on more.  I lift and I lower and change a little every day.  I see new lines, have new definitions, and feel a heart beating stronger in my chest.

The process is slow, the weights are heavy, but the reward is strength. So take heart, my friend, for strength of mind, strength of heart, and strength of body awaits, all we have to do is keep lifting our weights.

This blog started as my mustard seed.  My tiny seed of faith that told me God had words for me to share with others.  I was so hesitant to put down these personal words and then press publish.  I really didn’t want anyone to read my words and then think differently of me.  But my mustard seed has taken root and is spreading throughout the rest of my life.  It’s taken over my fear of sharing and turned it into a fear of not sharing enough.  From my mustard seed, Fit, Grit, & Grace has sprouted and I can’t wait to watch it bloom.

Fit, Grit, & Grace is my hope for inspiration for myself and for others.  In this season of my life, I’m experiencing a roller coaster of emotions, anxieties, and joys.  As are many of you.  Through these three ideas of Fit, Grit, & Grace, I want to walk alongside you.  I want you to walk alongside me. I ask you to share as I share, learn as I learn, and grow as I grow.

Fit

Definition 1 – in good health, especially because of regular physical exercise

We don’t have the same bodies that we used to do we?  A little extra here and a little extra there.  Things are just not what (or where) they once were and we feel like we should be doing something about it.  But what?  To be fit does not mean we have to take a class we dread 3 days a week, run mile after torturous mile, measure this, weigh that, or throw out all our favorite junk foods (Keebler Fudge Cookies, I will not forsake you).  No, being fit means we are taking care of our bodies so we can do all the things.  There is another definition, and synonyms that make me love this word, Fit, even more.

Definition 2 – having the requisite qualities or skills to undertake something competently

synonyms of fitness –  good health, strength, robustness, vigor, toughness, able

This is the good stuff. We are able, we are strong, we are robust, we are tough, we are fit.  I want to share how we get there, how we get off track, and how we get right back on.

Grit

Definition 1- small, loose particles of stone or sand

We all have a little grit in our lives don’t we?  Grit we’ve swept under our rugs, grit hid high on shelves in our closets, grit we’ve tasted in our mouths, grit we’ve felt under our feet, grit that’s chilled our bones, and grit that’s molded and filled in the empty cracks in our lives. The grit is hard to talk about sometimes, but we need it don’t we? It’s in all of us.

Definition 2- courage and resolve; strength of character

Grit makes us who we are.  Grit pushes us forward, clenches our teeth and our fists, and puts up the fight for our lives. I want to show you the grit that makes me who I am, good and bad.  I want to see the dirty grit that is making you, good and bad.

Grace

Definition 1 – simple elegance or refinement of movement

When grace walks into a room we all stare don’t we.  Ears listen when she speaks, children run into her open arms, and hearts open up with a touch of her hand. We can all think of a Grace in our lives, she is different than all the rest. How do we get to be grace?

Definition 2- the free and unmerited favor of God

Wait, we already have grace? It was freely given to us? Yes and yes, but we constantly need to be reminded. We forget to give grace to others. And we forget to give grace to ourselves. Let’s remember grace together.

I hope you’ll come alongside me. Let yourself feel, heal, deal, and tell me the words you need to hear.

I’m looking forward to this new place.

Welcome to Fit, Grit, & Grace.

I want to move you. To move you to move from here to there.

I want to move you.To move you to places you’ve been afraid to dare.

I want to make you feel something. To start up your heart, make it beat faster.

You can’t live with a heart that feels nothing. You have to move or you’ll live in disaster.

I want to move you to the change you wish to feel.

To move you to that place in life when all your dreams become real.

I want to move you to live in front of your past. I want to move you to stop looking behind.

I want to move you so that you’re running so fast. Away from your mistakes and toward those mountain goals you’ve been trying to climb.

I want to inspire you.

To light and ignite you.

I want to start a fire in you.

So you can burn down the walls you want to break through.

I want to move you so you can move others. And give them the tools to do the same

I want to move people to move their sisters and brothers. And give them a hope for new starts, new hopes, and new names.