reality of fear: then and now

But let all who take refuge in you be glad; let them ever sing for joy. Spread your protection over them, that those who love your name may rejoice in you. 

Psalm 5:11

I decided to revisit the book, The Bronze Bow by Elizabeth George Speare. I reread it a few years back and even blogged about it. Something about this book has stuck with me since originally reading it in elementary school. It takes place during the time of Jesus. He was living and walking the Earth. His reputation was growing and people, even in remote areas had begun to hear about him. 

It was a time that was filled with everyday terror. The Romans were feared. And hated. The thought of living under such tyranny seems completely foreign. I don't know starvation. I don't know what it would mean to witness the slaughter of my people. I don't know real injustice like that in my own life. 

That's the time of early Christians. Real injustice. Real fear. Fear of not only persecution, but death. 

And there was this man named Jesus, preaching boldly and telling people to love their enemies. To pray for those who persecute you.

Hello? Excuse me, sir? Love the Romans? Pray for them? Uh, no.

I can see myself being that person. But it's mainly because I was so afraid of them. They ruled and they hated me.

My fears dwarf when I think of that kind of fear. 

Books like The Bronze Bow allow me think of what Jesus was saying and living in the context of their reality. We read those words and they resonate with us. But when we suspend our own everyday and think about what his words meant in the face of death. Of real fear. Wow. 

The Zealots of the day turned their fear into rage. Overturning the enemy with force and sometimes, the sharp end of a blade. But Jesus entered onto the scene and spread such a different message.

He calls us to love, pray, and forgive. We find refuge in Him. He protects us. And in that process, we will sing for joy. 

Sing for joy. Early Christians read those words and it meant something to them. His protection meant something. His presence meant life over death. Love over hate. Hope over despair. Joy over fear.

the time I almost threw my sandals into the East River

I was excited. Today was the day I was supposed to get my new sandals in the mail. As I opened the cardboard box and lifted out those awaited sandals, it hit me. 

I'm old.

Okay, I know I'm not "old". Whatever that means anyway. I'm certainly older than quite a few people. After spending about 15 minutes with a sixteen-year-old, I thank my lucky stars I'm not that age anymore.

I felt old because I was getting my comfortable walking sandals in the mail. I couldn't care less (okay, maybe I care a little) about looks. My main concern was whether or not I could walk over 5 miles in them. 

Five years ago, when I was a foolish youth, I vacationed in NYC. I proceeded to walk all over the island of Manhattan wearing the thinnest, least-cushioned sandals in the world. But I looked on-point fashion-wise. As I crossed the Brooklyn Bridge, I remember wanting to rip those infernal sandals off and throw them into the East River. And hailing one of those bicycle taxis while howling in pain. I think I limped for the next two days. Just imagine walking barefoot for several miles. Now imagine wearing something that is less supportive than your own foot. You get the idea.

Maybe I'm overdramatizing for effect, but it was awful. And then, I realized this is one of those things that you have to learn with age. Someone older and wiser could not have convinced me that wearing sensible, comfortable shoes in order to walk 389 miles in NYC is advisable (read: imperative). I probably would've looked at their ugly Danskos and rolled my eyes.

Life lesson #42: when walking long distances, wear comfortable shoes. And it doesn't really matter what they look like.

my 2 cents (romance edition)

It's been awhile since I've written about my favorite topic. And by "favorite", I mean nebulous, uncharted waters. 

Romantic relationships.

Ew. Even writing that out makes me feel like a second-grader talking about liking boys. It's strange to think how little I know even after all these years of...well, not knowing. 

So, what do I know? I'll try to make this concise. And to the interested 2.3 people who read this blog, you're welcome (disclaimer: these are the thoughts of someone who is not an expert and is on the JV squad of romantic relationship knowledge.)

1. all relationships go through seasons. Even family relationships. So, when it comes to romantic relationships, it's like having two people walk into a dark room, introducing them, and then periodically having one of them put on sound-silencing earplugs without the other knowing. Miscommunication and vulnerability abound. Sometimes, you feel like you're totally on the same page. Yes! We like the same things and seem to be really jiving. Other times, who is this person? Have we ever met? The point is, as long as the general trajectory is moving in the same direction, you're good - and the season progresses.

2. openness is the first step. Maybe this should have been the first bullet point. OH well. Openness with someone you're romantically interested in is like the indicator on a store-front window with the paper sign that says, "yes, we're open". Like the eye-catching signage or the annoying guy dressed in a chicken suit on the sidewalk, openness lets the other party know that you have something they want. 

2b. Signs of openness: eye contact (are you making it?), posture (are your arms always crossed? is your back hunched inward? try hands on hips in a non-sassypants way with your shoulders back), and try not to limit yourself to only people you know (have you met the person on the other side of the room? maybe try to meet them.) Laughing is good too. Not obnoxious-laughing-at-inside-jokes-only type laughter, but the kind that includes other people.

3. leave bread crumbs. The discovery of this point was through observing another friend. She'd leave these "bread crumbs" of opportunity to the other by saying things like, "you like ____? we should do _____ sometime!" That sounds a little forward, but dress it up however you want. You find out the person spends his time doing _______. Show interest. After a few conversations, young Hansel may (read: may not) remember that you also like, for example, going hiking so he'll invite you the next time. And even if he doesn't, you were creating opportunities which is arguably 67% of the battle. Side note, 'bread crumbs of opportunity' is a phrase that I will have to copyright sometime.

4. ENGAGE. This is closely related to openness and opportunity. It's like the marriage between the two. Don't be afraid to show your interest in him. I'm not saying you should be overzealous and ask him out on a date (some women would highly disagree with this statement), but there is nothing wrong with showing that you would like to go on a date with him.

5. make your peace. You've done the ground work. You've shown interest in various activities, you haven't stamped a large eff-off on your forehead, and you've tried to be as open and vulnerable to show that you would say 'yes' if he would only ask. 

At this point, you wait. As a wise woman told me (hi, Mom!), "to be a woman is to wait." I'm practicing these steps as we speak and in the process, I see something else happening. 

By practicing openness, I am becoming more open. By being interested in other activities, I realized the world becomes bigger.

And regardless of whether I end up with "the one" at the end of this 5 step process on repeat, being open to opportunities and life in general is such a good, life-giving thing. 

still wanted, always wanted

I've messed up too much.

I'm too tired. 

What's the point?

Just leave me alone.

I still want you.

This sermon addresses the topic that makes us grimace. Squirm a little in our seats. Makes us excuse ourselves from the room. Avert our eyes. Cross our arms protectively.

Shame. 

It's true. Once you realize what shame really is (in its many forms) - you see it everywhere. I hear it in the narratives of almost everyone I know. I ate too much, I feel so gross. I'm not dressed nicely enough to go there. I felt so stupid for being upset. 

Shame is insidious and toxic. I realized how much shame had run rough-shot in my own life and was astounded. My tank was full and I had been running on high-grade shame. No matter what I did, said, or or looked - I was never good enough. I internalized it, projected it onto others, ignored it.

Where does that leave us, weary shame-filled souls?

In a clear voice, without a touch of irony or own personal gain - He says, "I still want you."

You are worthy. Your love, your work, you. 

Me? Am I willing/able to be wanted? Loved? Seen as valuable?

Jesus, will you please take me into your arms and allow me to be loved? I don't know how to do that because I've lived so long believing with every fiber of my being that I wasn't worth it.  

Grace. A belief, even if it is a nascent one, that what we are - is worth something. He goes to that place that hurts so much we think we will die and offers us grace and love and hope and mercy and an invitation to live with a tank full of them. Those other voices of shame will dissipate as we begin to believe such audacious, beautiful, life-giving truth that I am still wanted.

I'm going to say it again - you are wanted.