A few years ago, when I was going to school at Dallas Baptist University, I was selected to attend a conference called CASL (Christian Association of Student Leaders). One of the seminars I attended was lead by a young married missionary couple. I expected the seminar to be about their adventures as missionaries, how they raise their funds, their successes and hardships... and they did! I didn't expect them to tell us they were missionaries in a nearby college town.

The whole point of their message was to live your whole life missionally. You don't have to save up for a mission trip overseas, you don't have to donate a week of your time to build wells, you don't have to spend every waking moment at the homeless shelter. Those things are all AMAZING and by all means, do that!

But the truth is, a lot of our days are full of the mundane tasks of daily life. Even so, that shouldn't keep us from living missional lives. 

Just check out these 8 tips below:

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I've kept this handout from this seminar all these years because it still resonates with me.

You have to eat. Why not eat with a non-Christian? You have to go places. Why not walk and interact with your community face to face? You have to get gas, groceries, haircuts, etc. Why not be a regular at those places you go and develop relationships with the people around you? You have hobbies. Why not have fun doing your hobby with someone else? You have co-workers. Why not talk to and pray for them? You have a community with needs. Why not help? You live in a city with events. Why not attend those events? You have neighbors. Why not love on them?

These are easy things to incorporate into your lifestyle. There's no good reason NOT to live missionally. 

Robby and I had our weekly date night last week and chose to go to dinner and a movie, thanks to the gift cards we received to AMC and to Chili's from our sweet families! Since Robby chose our last movie, Star Wars, I got this next pick. I thought about choosing Star Wars again (it was just SO freaking good!), but instead I opted for the movie Joy starring Jennifer Lawrence, Robert de Niro, and Bradley Cooper. 

Joy did not disappoint. I am a fan of obscure, independent, and independent-like movies - especially those that are about love, hardships, family, heartbreak, and challenging journeys. I go weak in the knees for Like Crazy, Short Term 12, Away We Go, and Ruby Sparks. Not to mention, I love Silver Lining's Playbook and American Hustle, both also directed by David O. Russell, who directed Joy. 

This movie was the story of Joy Mangano, a woman who faced serious challenges before becoming an accomplished and well-respected inventor. It was a picture of her life, her family, her grit, and her determination as she defied expectations set before her and became a proud success. 

Joy, played by Lawrence, was crushed as a girl by the divorce of her parents, weighed down by the care-giving roles she played for each of her family members, and worked herself to the bones in order to make ends meet. She was smart and successful growing up and in school, but set her dreams to the side in order to take care of everything and everyone around her. Finally, she had enough, and decided it was her time to make something of herself that she could be proud of and went on a long journey to become a success. 

It was easy to see parts of myself in Joy, and to be inspired by her attitude and accomplishments. I walked away from the movie wanting to move mountains. As a young, married 20-something whose husband is now in the Army, it's easy to set aside the goals I've been dreaming up since I was a girl in order to make our life work right now. It's easy to say, "I don't have time to take this class, spend this hour writing, volunteer with this organization, fill out this application to speak at this conference." It's easy to think "I'll do that when Robby's gone, when Robby's back, after we move here or there." It's easy to get caught up in the daily mundane tasks and become completely exhausted doing so. 

Truly, there has to be a balance. You have to do what you have to do, but you can't forget to grow. You can't forget to use what you've been given. You can't forget to achieve your goals. 

Small steps of procrastination for one reason or the other makes it easy to give up on your dreams and talents and passions and goals. But I'm in a season of flexibility right now. I'm not working, Robby will be leaving in a month for BCT, I'll be moving in April... What better time than now to cultivate my crafts and sharpen my skills?

Every day my desires change. Today I want to be a writer, an inventor, a speaker, a photographer, blogger, curator, a minimalist, a poet, and a maker of beautiful things. Today, I'm going to work on that.

Before we start, would you mind watching this video for me? It's what got me thinking about feminism this week.

Feminism is a confusing topic. Maybe it shouldn't be, but it is. It has a strong connotation, that word. Often times, it carries a negative connotation. (Perhaps it's similar to the word "Christian" - a lot of people have a lot of negative feelings when they hear that word because a lot of people have said and done a lot of ignorant things in the name of Christianity.)

To be completely and totally honest, when I hear "feminist" I sometimes think that means "man-hater." Or I think of someone who denounces or looks down upon those who believe in "traditional family constructs". I think women growing their armpit hair out, tweeting about tampons being oppressive, and calling Father's Day a celebration of male dominance and patriarchal society. Go do a Google image search of "feminism" and you'll see what stereotypes I'm referring to.

At the same time, a part of me thinks about the times I haven't been taken seriously at work because of my strong sense of empathy towards my co-workers. I think about the many female stereotypes in the media, portraying women mostly as "crazy," "over-dramatic," and "psychotic". I think of my least favorite line in The Office that makes me cringe every time I hear it, when Todd Packer tells Michael to "hike up [his] skirt and pull out [his] tampon, borrow some balls, and come meet [him]!" I think about the over-sexualization of women in our society. I think about rape culture and the things I do to protect myself from sexual harassment every day. I think about women being misrepresented in leadership positions. I think about statistically proven economic inequality in the workplace. 

I'm not the only one that struggles with this word. Just last week on Huffington Post, an article was posted on Emma Watson's use of the word "feminism" in a speech she recently gave. She was quoted as saying, "I was encouraged not to use the word 'feminism' because people felt that it was alienating and separating and the whole idea of the speech was to include as many people as possible... But I thought long and hard and ultimately felt that it was just the right thing to do. If women are terrified to use the word, how on earth are men supposed to start using it?"

Feminism is defined as "the advocacy of women's rights on the grounds of political, social, and economic equality to men." And the simple truth is, I'm a feminist. And I'm a Christian. And I'm a homemaker. And I'm thankful I live in a day and age where I can challenge norms, speak my mind, seek out truth, and post publicly on my own platform.

I think this word "feminism" needs to be redeemed. What about you? What do you think?

A few weeks ago, I had the incredible pleasure of diving into the beautifully inspiring story of Stephanie May Wilson, as told in her book debut, The Lipstick Gospel. I literally could not put the book down until I had soaked up every word on every page. I took in the whole story in only a day and the only negative feedback I have is that I wish there was more to read. I couldn't get enough!

Stephanie writes a blog that I have been following for the past couple of years, and through it, she has changed my life. Her storytelling ability, along with her sweet spirit and heartwarming hope, makes for a very honest and insightful experience for anyone who stumbles upon her blog. I'm not even sure anymore how I became turned on to her, but I know that for as long as she's writing, I'll be reading.

In The Lipstick Gospel, Stephanie shares her struggles, triumphs, doubts, revelations, and her journey to find God all over the world. The first pages recount her party-filled days as a atheistic sorority girl caught up in the confusion the world had offered her. She then takes the reader along with her through her Colorado college experience -- a heart-wrenching breakup, an inspiring study abroad trip, her adjustment once back home in "the real world" and her first (and accidental) mission trip. 

She's found God in the brushstrokes of Michelangelo, in rich cups of Spanish coffee, on Costa Rican mountain tops, and in the wild worship of Ghanians. I invite you to pour a warm cup of coffee, wrap yourself up in a blanket, and crack open her book so you can get to know her precious heart's testimony of God's faithfulness in her life. I promise you won't be disappointed.

You can get the Lipstick Gospel here at Stephanie's store. BONUS: It's Cyber Monday and there's a huge sale going on! So pick up a few goodies for you and your girlfriends! And while you're at it, go ahead and visit her blog here.

*This post originally appeared on my former blog, Nothing But Nash, on December 19, 2014 and has been republished here to bring all of my thoughts into on consolidated place.

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Well, dear friends. It's about time we take a moment to talk about Major Depressive Disorder and severe anxiety.

I don't know how to start this conversation and I don't exactly know what to say, but speaking up is good. It's healthy, helpful, and necessary.

Just five short weeks from my sixth birthday, my father took his own life. From that day forward, I've struggled with depression. Some seasons have been worse than others; most not unbearable. For some stretches of time, this depression and anxiety have been quite controllable and able to conceal or rationalize. In high school, it hit really hard a couple times. In college, I did pretty good to keep in under control, even during traumatic or stressful periods. But at some point, in the middle of college, it finally all exploded again. After a summer of counseling, that was incredibly healing and helpful, I began my last year of college with hope. Almost immediately, Robby was re-introduced into my life, and I was swept up into a fairy tale.

My sweet Robby came busting into my life and brought all the love and hope and joy possible, putting to bed again my feelings of depression and loneliness and anxiousness and sadness. I believed for the umpteenth time that I had been healed from depression, freed from the need of medication, and powerful enough (with Christ, of course) to conquer it if it was to make another grand entrance into my life.

I was wrong.

Once Robby's dad went into the hospital, once we lived for 6 weeks in the ICU, once I started failing my college courses, once my father-in-law passed away, once I mourned 15 years of being without a father, then I entered into a summer taking my last two college classes, planning a wedding, working a job, and getting ready to graduate, move to a new city, leave my job, leave my church, leave my home, and become a wife. In three short months, my life turned upside down and my depression "came back" with a vengeance.

I was originally diagnosed with Dysthemia and prescribed Lexapro. But I got worse and I got worse. Two weeks before my wedding and graduation, I experienced a severe depressive episode, where I posed a threat to myself. I had to leave my job early, move back in with my mom, and had to finish school/planning my wedding as an embarrassed/anxious/depressed 21 year old living back at home again. Not exactly the way I hoped to begin my life as a new adult...

I visited my doctor again and was taken off of Lexapro. In it's place came Zoloft and Wellbutrin.

Overnight, I felt better.

I woke up the day after my worst episode yet and I felt better than I have felt in years. I successfully navigated through my final two weeks of college, I planned my dream wedding, I walked across a stage and down an aisle the next day. I flew off to Paris with my new husband and enjoyed a magical 10 days with the love of my life (aside from the mono).

However, once we got back, I gradually started to decline again. About a month or two into our marriage, my doctor had me double my Zoloft intake. At my followup visit, I felt the same, no better. I asked if she had any Psychiatric recommendations, so I could get the expert opinion of a specialist.

I fought it and I put it off and I just "knew" it would get better.

But it hasn't. If anything, it's gotten worse.

I am fighting off strong self-harming inclinations, I am reacting aggressively when I become agitated, I bawl my eyes out as if a close family has passed away even when nothing is going wrong. Last night, whilst trying to get ready for my dear friend's surprise birthday party, I found myself sobbing uncontrollably on the closet floor. I throw fits! Like a child!

I went to the psychiatrist on Friday. It's confirmed. Reagan Nash is suffering from a severe anxiety disorder as well as a severe case of MDD. I'm on a couple new medications, I'm set to start another round of counseling, and I have a follow up appointment in two weeks.

It's weird. It's hard. It's embarrassing. It's something I feel guilty over. It's something I don't understand and I don't know how to deal with half the time. I don't know how I'm supposed to feel about it, how I'm supposed to treat it, how I'm supposed to talk about it.

But it's a part of me. It's a huge part of who I am. This depression, this broken brain - I carry it within me.

I know it doesn't rule me. I'm not its slave and it's not my master. But I'm wrong to treat it as if it doesn't exist. If I ignore it, I'm being ignorant, and most likely putting myself in danger. I know God is capable of healing my brain, but I also know that He is still good and just if He chooses not to. Maybe depression/anxiety is the "thorn in my side" that I get to live with and struggle through.

But I will struggle through.

This will not defeat me.

I will not let this thorn be manipulated by the enemy. Satan will not take my life.

I am weak. But God is strong.

If you see me, have grace with me. I'm trying to learn how to have grace with myself. I'm learning to have grace with you. I'm learning what grace even means.

That's my word for this year. Grace.

*This post originally appeared on my former blog, Nothing But Nash, on January 25, 2015 and has been republished here to bring all of my thoughts into on consolidated place.