breath of fresh air

This is a very existential question, but what makes you - you? Maybe you can answer this question fairly easily. Great. But... have you ever noticed that different versions of yourself manifest themselves in a very circumstantial way? Which of those versions feels the most authentic, genuine, the real you?

Is it the intellectual, academic version? The chatty one who is outgoing? The withdrawn, retiring one who observes more than participates? The funny one with a quippy remark? When have you felt the most like yourself?

I find that it's when I'm around people that know me very well. And not just knows me well, but draws out this level of comfort that doesn't make me second-guess myself. I am ok with being me. In fact, it's better for me to be me. And even if I can't answer what "me" is in 20 words or less, I know that I'm being myself. 

There's so much peace and rest with embracing me-for-me. I don't have to force laughter. I don't have to force myself to be quiet when I want to speak. I don't have to craft that perfectly structured and timed remark. I don't have to force this square peg into a round hole. There's only peace. And that peace begets peace in others. 

I'm guessing that when you were around those people who make you feel like you - they also have a level of comfort in their own skin. How refreshing. How life-giving it is to give each other permission to be ourselves.

time machine

I was 23 when I started this blog. Twenty.Three. Good Lord. How much has changed. I want to take 23-year-old me and pat me on the head. "Oh, dear. Dear, dear, dear. You have much to learn, naive one. Much to learn."

Oh gosh. Will I be thinking that five years from now? Shoot. I probably will. Well, life. Here we go.

angsty

There will always be a market for angsty, tear-inducing, fists balled up in vindictive anger-type songs. Blasting emo music is not just for adolescents going through their first break-up. Or for rebels not wanting to go home before curfew. Heartbreak and feelings. Dissatisfaction and frustration are parts of the human condition. As I learned during my post-graduate program, these desires are very creational. We were made to want something good, something better - perfection. When we face that lack of perfection, we're left with a void that wants filling. How will we fill it? 

This song stirs up those angsty feelings of 15-year-old me who just wants to be cool, fit in, and have that senior boy finally notice me.

insecurity and acting out of it

It's amazing what we do out of feelings of insecurity or vulnerability. I feel exposed, insufficient, not enough. Maybe someone told me for years that I was nothing. Maybe I've been telling myself I'm worthless. I look in the mirror and I hate, hate what I see. I look around and everyone else seems to just... get it. 

In almost every school I've been in, I interact with students of all shapes, sizes, personalities, and intellectual abilities. With such diversity comes students that really inspire me and others that make me shake my head. As a member of a minority group, I have experienced a fair share of racism from students. It amazes me, really. I cannot imagine, as a 17-year-old, making demeaning comments towards an adult for their race. When feelings of my own insecurity come bubbling to the surface, I remember it. I remember that that child, that 17-year-old child with the tough exterior, is very insecure.

Only someone who doesn't feel like "enough" will hurl arrows of racist remarks to someone they don't know. Only someone who deeply feels (whether consciously or unconsciously) a deep chasm of insufficiency would make someone else feel small. 

Racism is obviously a big example of this. And not all are guilty of it. But we're all certainly guilty of acting out of our own feelings of insecurity. Whether it's not fully engaging that person we don't know very well who seems a little awkward. Maybe it's rejecting the kindly meant compliment of a friend. Or it could be the refusal to walk out the door without looking perfectly put-together.

I have to ask myself, "am I acting out of the overflow of being deeply loved by my Savior? Or am I acting out of hurt, fear, or insecurity?" 

inspiration

Literally from the time I learned to string letters together to form these miraculous wonders called "words," I have written short stories. You really should read my earliest works of fiction. A sample of the titles are fantastical and truly inspired: "The Flying Horse," "The Greatest Adventure Ever," and the one that started it all, "The Dancing Rabbit." Only out of the mind of a 7-year-old... 

As I grew, the titles changed. The stories hit a little closer to home (although I do have personal experience with flying horses, nbd.) It became a way to express life - much like this blog. 

Inspiration came from varied sources. Sometimes it was a conversation, a story I saw on TV, a person, a feeling. The funny thing is, the older I got, the less likely I was to actually finish the story. I didn't know how to end it well. And now that I think about it, maybe it's because I don't know how my own story lines will end either. It's difficult to wrap it up nicely into a bow. What is the "lesson" in this? 

Shortly after college, I began a story about a 20-something going on a cross country trip with her spunky great-aunt in an RV. I wish I could finish it, but having little experience with 1. RV's, 2. cross-country traveling, and 3. various landmarks that populate our nation, I felt it better to take an extended hiatus from it.

Maybe the lesson in this is... I NEED TO GO ON A CROSS COUNTRY TRIP IN AN RV WITH AN AGING RELATIVE!

Or, I need to live my life. With gusto. And inspiration comes when you least expect it.

loved

"God, who hung the stars - He has taken a thread of His heart and tied it to yours." - Ann Voskamp, The Greatest Gift

Praying for rest in this moment - to soak ourselves in the fact that we are loved by a God who attaches Himself to us. His holiness with our lack. 

"Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted." (Matt 5:4) I'm realizing that we are called to comfort others, to feel what others are feeling and enter into that suffering because that's what Christ does for us... everyday. His heart is tied to ours. Our hearts, as believers, are tied to each other. Community. 

Genesis 28:15 says, "I am with you and will watch over you wherever you go, and I will bring you back to this land. I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you." What has God promised me? What has God promised you? Are you scared to hope? Are you afraid to ask? 

His heart is attached to ours. He knows. He feels our fears. He feels our anxieties. He loves us through it and promises - to watch over us, to not leave us, to bring us back. To not be left alone. 

weary world waiting

I don't know a lot of people who like waiting. In fact, I don't know anyone who likes waiting. Waiting in line at the store. Waiting in the sterile room at the doctor's office. My eyes shift to the candy and miscellaneous items displayed on my right. I glance at the dog-eared magazines haphazardly stacked on the coffee table. I think about anything that will distract me from this infernal waiting period. Of nothingness. Of suspension.

Advent is all about waiting. We're waiting for the arrival of Him. The most important of people. A little baby. I imagine everyone holding their breath in anticipation. Our hearts are heavy and burdened. My eyes are weary and needing rest. I've made mistakes. I've suffered. I need a Savior. 

The thrill of hope
A weary world
Rejoices.
- O Holy Night

In waiting, something good can happen to our hearts if we let it. As the feelings arise - either good or bad - we offer it to the Lord as an offering. "Jesus, here it is. My heart. I wait for you to fill it as only You can." (repeat)

We walk together. Moving towards that moment that we've been waiting for - the advent of an Incredible Good. 

miss no-longer-on-her-own

"Miss Independent" herself is no longer the single, man-hating, screaming-into-the-mic songstress of yesteryear (ok, maybe she's still at least 2 of those...) Kelly Clarkson said in a recent interview that she was "pathetically alone" for nearly 7 years. Ouch. I mean, ouch for multiple reasons. One, she felt the need to cover-up her hurt over being single. Two, she obviously hated single-hood like a scourge. And...well, let me just share a portion of the article.

The pop singer, who is promoting her new Christmas album Wrapped in Red, admitted she only had three boyfriends until she wed Blackstock. In fact, in 2011 she told USA TODAY she'd "never been in love."

"I've never experienced certain things, and I think that's because I have this side of me that is shut off," she said at the time. "Because I haven't found anybody yet to open to that I feel like, 'OK, you're worth breaking down that wall for.' I've never found that."

And ouch for me. Because I can relate. I relate mostly with the wall part. 

I'm also sad for her because although it's a happy thing that she met someone, fell in love, got married, and is now starting a family, she found the answer in the "romantic solution" (Tim Keller's sermon on this very common phenomenon is a good listen.)

The fact is, finding "the one" will never make us finally complete (à la Jerry Maguire.) It won't keep the feelings of being "pathetically alone" at bay FOREVER. It's a beautiful, beautiful thing to find your person. But reading this article and seeing how much media exposure Kelly Clarkson's love story and now pregnancy story has - it leaves me feeling hollow. 

Kelly, thank you for helping me embrace and totally rock single-hood in 2003. I'm glad you no longer feel "pathetically alone" and I can only hope you continue to feel that way.

pulse check

Last year, my counselor challenged me to check in periodically during my day and ask - "how am I feeling?" This is such a counselor-y exercise that makes most people want to vomit... but for me, this is incredibly beneficial. I know I'm not the only one who speeds through a day on autopilot. I skim the surface and before I know it, my shoulders are tense, I have a pounding headache, and I realize I have not had any water to drink in... hours. 

This can't be healthy. It's definitely not healthy. 

I did something difficult last night. I ended things with someone that I was kind of, sort of seeing. It was nebulous and weird and erased all those boundaries I'd constructed around me. I hope and pray it's done. It was unhealthy and the toxicity of its chemicals were slowly damaging me. I hate that I had to do that. I hate that I got myself into that situation. But... it happened and I can't bring myself to trial everyday in repentance. 

How am I feeling? I feel in-between things. Jobs, relationships, seasons. That must be why God is likened to a firm foundation. An unmoveable substance. A force of nature. A strong tower. Everything freaking changes. Why?! (insert frustration)

I can't really answer that. But right now, I'm thankful for being loved. By something, by someone who is strong. Strong enough to carry my heavy, unwieldy burden. My shoulders don't feel as tense when I think about it. 

 

the real kind of love

Love, the real kind of love, is very different from what is portrayed in the media. Movies, TV shows, songs... love is displayed as this explosion of emotions like a cosmic meteor shower. Uncontrollable, without caution. Something just for me. I guess there are aspects of that which is true. But let me continue with my soapbox...

Love is constant. And steadfast. And casts out fear. It doesn't change. It doesn't introduce itself to you one day and then bam - morph into something totally different the next. Like a unwelcome rabbit out of a magician's hat. Surprise! And it can't be just for me. It's not about me. 

Love plods along at a pace which goes for the win. It doesn't drag you along, leaving clouds of dust in its path. And it certainly doesn't make you feel empty after parting ways. 

If God is love than whoever he has made me for - will only make me yearn for more Jesus. He will only show me more Jesus. He will be a human who makes human mistakes, but he will also - like me - be redeemed. And believe that hope is something that only comes from a God who loves us so much... that he died. For us. Love changes things. Love brings dead things back to life. 

That kind of love is not in any movie I've seen recently.

worthy of the good-bye

I am so bad at good-byes. It took me a little while to realize the why. Honestly, to be perfectly candid - it's completely a self-confidence thing. To announce a good-bye, to tell a roomful of people, "hello, room! I am leaving - you may now acknowledge me and express sadness over my departure," is saying something about yourself. You're worthy of the good-bye. You're worthy of acknowledgement and even those feelings of sadness. You are worth something. 

I'm tempted to pull an Irish exit (that is actually not PC, is it?) and peace out without a good-bye. But if I allow my robot-heart to soften and actually feel... I think I need to be vulnerable. In the same way that I abhor the "Happy Birthday" song on my birthday, I need to be okay with the spotlight and the sense of worthiness that comes with that kind of attention. 

I am worthy and so are you.

satisfied even in the desert

I'm reading through old posts - ones that go way back in the day - and I find myself seeing life through a somewhat skewed lens. "Man, I was really tracking with Jesus back then" or "gosh, I was really seeking the right stuff - really seeking truth." That is not true. NOT ENTIRELY TRUE. Yes, there were moments of really "eureka"-like clarity. Jesus is here. He is dwelling here, amongst us. But there were a lot, A LOT of moments of humdrum blah-ness. Moments of slugging through the bog, crawling through the deserts on my hands and knees. Feeling so... wasted. I feel like that right now. I see the cool springs and shady palms ahead, but I'm looking around me and feeling spent. 

"I was feeding on the filth around me 'til my strength was almost gone." This is a lyric from the song "Satisifed." It's fantastic. And haunting. That line especially comes back and reverberates in my brain when I start to binge on such unsatisfying nothingness. Waiting for a call to hang-out, another 'like' for a recent Facebook status. Maybe buying a new pair of fancy shoes to feel/look better. 

Only Jesus. Only Jesus can satisfy. He promised us good things so our youth is renewed like the eagle's. That good thing? It's Him. The best and most purest form of good there is. 

I want to inject Jesus. Right here and right now into the midst of a day that feels wasted and desolate. Like a desert of dry, bleached bones. He is life. I've been called. I walk, even through the mire, with Him. 

sunrise

Today, I was reminded about a time that wasn't all that long ago. In fact, it was at this time last year, I was driving about a half hour to work each day. It was an hour total, 30 minutes to and 30 minutes back. At first, I thought it was such a long time. I'd have to leave earlier in order to get there in time. During the winter months, I'd wake in darkness. And leave the house in darkness. What a hassle.

But this time quickly became such a blessing to me because on each drive, I'd literally get to watch the sun rise every morning. Each sunrise was so different and yet so brilliant. There's something about the experience of watching a day begin that gave me such peace. The newness. The golden rays casting its light on everything as darkness disappeared. I'd pray. I'd sip my coffee. I'd think about the list of things to do and accomplish. I'd just be. 

I never thought I'd miss those 30 minutes in the morning, but I find myself a bit whimsical. Isn't that how it always is? Those 30 minutes were life and I didn't realize I was living it until I looked back. 

initiating phase 2?

Can I blog again?  It's been an interesting sojourn through my previous posts. Yeesh, I was going through some stuff... and through it all, I blogged pretty faithfully.  Mainly, I think I needed sanity during my years at my prior job and then at grad school.  

It was an outlet.  A creative outlet to talk about faith, friends, family.  Maybe that time has passed.  I don't know if I will blog again regularly.  I feel like I'm a more open person than I used to be, but at the same time, maybe more private.  My inner thoughts and feelings are reserved for those who really want to know and will start a dialogue with me about them.  In a way, I feel like a blog is a way for my to open myself in a vulnerable way without the reciprocating dialogue.  And you know, that's what I like the most about expressing my thoughts and feelings.  What are your reactions and responses as the recipient?  

I may need to think about this more...