"I'm still getting back to who I want to be. I want to have pillars that I can hold onto through life's storms and baselines where I can recenter myself when I don't know where to go."
I wrote that almost two years ago, and I can honestly say I've missed writing for all it's in-betweens and maybes. I didn't know what I wanted, and I'm still not sure I do, but I've got a lot more to go on from where I used to be.
Rebuilding has been a task, and one that I didn't know if I was fit to take on, but it's gotten me this far, and I like where I am. I'm working as a middle school teacher who gets to make a difference (whether positive or negative, I'm still figuring out), I have a pup who keeps me honest and opens my heart a little more each day, and I have a strength I couldn't have dreamed of in my furthest approximations. My horizons are as far as the east is from the west, and though smooth sailing is never a guarantee, I can't wait to see what's beyond this harbor.
Looking back on all that's happened, I can't say anything was of my own doing, rather it was learning to swim in the middle of a typhoon and coming out the other side with a better understanding of storm warnings. I leaned on everyone along the way, lost sight of my purpose and value, and found it all again and more. While it's cliche, and I wish I could offer more as to the secrets of a happy life, it's in the smallest things.
I read once that good journalism is in the details, and the bigger the event, the smaller you report on. You don't talk about the devastation to a city or the ruin of a village, you talk about a child's pair of singed socks in the street. So, rather than talk about the crumbled ruins of my youthful reveries, I'll talk about the gentle ache of a new piercing I got with a beloved friend.
That gentle ache reminds me often of the love and acceptance I've experienced over the last few years and the wonderful experiences I've gathered tokens from, like my newest ear adornment, along the way. It's also in the warm invitations to people's homes and the general check-ins from friends who I haven't caught up with yet. It's in the pictures decorating my walls and fridge and the notes from students I've saved on my desk. I can look in every corner of my life and sense care radiating from the scars I've collected, and I chose to wear them now as war paint; it's a choice to see those things as building blocks for who I've become and something that enhances my life rather than takes away from it, but it's worth choosing.
In closing, I want to extend to anyone who has been a part of this journey, for however long or however long ago it was, my thanks. The preparations for a new chapter were arduous and difficult, but I feel better having had you by my side for that excursion. You have helped me more than you could ever know, and I'm so glad that we all made it here.
We did it.
"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid."- John 14:27
Thursday, June 8, 2017
Saturday, May 23, 2015
Pain is Beauty
I finally realized what this cloud hanging around me for the last few days has been: I am heartbroken.
And not even solely for the things I should be, like the devastating earthquakes (as in plural) in Nepal, the plight of the disabled and homeless people living in third world countries, the AIDS epidemic that still reigns in Africa and leaves millions of children orphaned, or a plethora of other horrendous and rightfully heartbreaking things.
Alas, fret not though. Nothing dramatic has come along to ruin my chances of a bright outlook or change my course in life; all that has broken my heart has already happened.
On Monday, my family put down a beloved family pet that we've had for more than a decade to spare him the suffering towards a recovery that may have never happened. Later that same day, I ended a relationship that meant a great deal to me out of the knowledge that sometimes loving each other just isn't enough. Most recently, there was my 4th graders' last day of school, and I had to accept the fact that I had been asked not to attend by a mentor with whom I could not mend our relationship.
I assumed, as I've spent my time learning to let go and get back to my foundation, that I would end up with a blank page to begin my reconstruction; I was wrong. What I have is myself in tiny, building block pieces that had to be wrenched from their previous footholds, some even broken apart, and now I have to begin putting everything back together. I cry more easily now because I feel everything with a renewed clarity, and I empathize so greatly with suffering that it takes root in my pain, like a branch of the same plant.
But in these times of malaise and despair, I try to remember things that will outlast the heartbreak:
My mother always ends our communications with "Love you".
My grandmother texts me on every holiday usually to tell me the card that she sent should have arrived at my parent's house.
My friends Skype with me, send letters, call me because they don't want me to text when I'm driving, and offer open invitations to stay with them if ever I'm in town.
My friends also say things like:
"Have you heard her sing? When I did, I fell in love."
"Darling! You are just so beautiful."
"Your writing is like reading poetry."
When things look bleak and replete with sorrow, it's often hard to appreciate all the things I just mentioned, or even see them at all. I wouldn't trade this heartbreak away though because without it, the things I just mentioned wouldn't mean as much as they do now that I can see them as the blessings that they are. My goal is to live fully in this heartache, to see it for everything that it is, and use it as a tool to soften my heart rather than callous it.
I was looking for a verse in 2 Timothy from a book study I've been doing with a few friends, but I didn't remember the exact reference, so I perused hoping to stumble upon it. Instead of the verse I was looking for, I found this one: "Remember Jesus Christ, raised from the dead, descended from David. This is my gospel, for which I am suffering even to the point of being chained like a criminal... If we died with him, we will also live with him; if we endure, we will also reign with him." -2 Timothy 2:8-9 & 11-12
My suffering is not unique, and I think in acknowledging it, we take away the power that it holds when we keep it to ourselves. After our sufferings in this life, whatever they may be, we will live and reign with him.
I am heartbroken now, but I won't be forever, and I think there's a certain dignity in being able to feel this much, even if it pains me to do so. There's a saying that often comes back to me when things are overwhelming and it's the idea that "Jesus is closer than our breath". It helps me to think that more than just wiping away our tears, Jesus can feel, and has felt, everything we feel and will always be there when we need Him.
So to end, I wanted to add to my mantra from last time: I am here. I am loved.
And not even solely for the things I should be, like the devastating earthquakes (as in plural) in Nepal, the plight of the disabled and homeless people living in third world countries, the AIDS epidemic that still reigns in Africa and leaves millions of children orphaned, or a plethora of other horrendous and rightfully heartbreaking things.
Alas, fret not though. Nothing dramatic has come along to ruin my chances of a bright outlook or change my course in life; all that has broken my heart has already happened.
On Monday, my family put down a beloved family pet that we've had for more than a decade to spare him the suffering towards a recovery that may have never happened. Later that same day, I ended a relationship that meant a great deal to me out of the knowledge that sometimes loving each other just isn't enough. Most recently, there was my 4th graders' last day of school, and I had to accept the fact that I had been asked not to attend by a mentor with whom I could not mend our relationship.
I assumed, as I've spent my time learning to let go and get back to my foundation, that I would end up with a blank page to begin my reconstruction; I was wrong. What I have is myself in tiny, building block pieces that had to be wrenched from their previous footholds, some even broken apart, and now I have to begin putting everything back together. I cry more easily now because I feel everything with a renewed clarity, and I empathize so greatly with suffering that it takes root in my pain, like a branch of the same plant.
But in these times of malaise and despair, I try to remember things that will outlast the heartbreak:
My mother always ends our communications with "Love you".
My grandmother texts me on every holiday usually to tell me the card that she sent should have arrived at my parent's house.
My friends Skype with me, send letters, call me because they don't want me to text when I'm driving, and offer open invitations to stay with them if ever I'm in town.
My friends also say things like:
"Have you heard her sing? When I did, I fell in love."
"Darling! You are just so beautiful."
"Your writing is like reading poetry."
When things look bleak and replete with sorrow, it's often hard to appreciate all the things I just mentioned, or even see them at all. I wouldn't trade this heartbreak away though because without it, the things I just mentioned wouldn't mean as much as they do now that I can see them as the blessings that they are. My goal is to live fully in this heartache, to see it for everything that it is, and use it as a tool to soften my heart rather than callous it.
I was looking for a verse in 2 Timothy from a book study I've been doing with a few friends, but I didn't remember the exact reference, so I perused hoping to stumble upon it. Instead of the verse I was looking for, I found this one: "Remember Jesus Christ, raised from the dead, descended from David. This is my gospel, for which I am suffering even to the point of being chained like a criminal... If we died with him, we will also live with him; if we endure, we will also reign with him." -2 Timothy 2:8-9 & 11-12
My suffering is not unique, and I think in acknowledging it, we take away the power that it holds when we keep it to ourselves. After our sufferings in this life, whatever they may be, we will live and reign with him.
I am heartbroken now, but I won't be forever, and I think there's a certain dignity in being able to feel this much, even if it pains me to do so. There's a saying that often comes back to me when things are overwhelming and it's the idea that "Jesus is closer than our breath". It helps me to think that more than just wiping away our tears, Jesus can feel, and has felt, everything we feel and will always be there when we need Him.
So to end, I wanted to add to my mantra from last time: I am here. I am loved.
Tuesday, May 12, 2015
Letting Go
I recently cuddled up on the half of my bed that isn't strewn with piles of clean clothes waiting to be put away (Has anyone figured out the length of time it takes to have someone come and put them away? I've been waiting for a while and nobody seems to be coming) in order to watch what once was one of my favorite shows: Grey's Anatomy. I figured it had been about a year since I watched an episode and since I used to devote long stretches of time, many consecutive hours actually, I ought to catch up.
Here's the thing though: I didn't like it. The plot line coming down from the cliff hanger I left off on was thinly addressed but mostly overlooked in favor of more drama to set up for the next one. Characters that once jumped off the screen and into my daily repertoire of conversation topics morphed into vapid stick people renditions of actual people. I found myself confused as to why I spent so much time with something that meant so little to me now, and I realized that the difference was time. I had gone on with my life and was no longer in the throes of obsession over what was happening in the Grey's universe, and I was able to let go.
Letting go isn't always that easy though.
I spent the last 16 weeks planning and preparing as I rounded out my college experience and made my way through student teaching, hoping to come out alive and in one piece at the end, though I would have settled for one of the two. Turning in my final paper and heading towards the coast on a week-long California trip the day that I finished was the break I had been subsisting off of during those final dragging moments of any taxing experience.
And taxing it was. People were constantly asking where I was going from here, so I constantly had to be thinking about graduation, a career, marriage, was I moving, did I have any interviews lined up, will I be pursuing my Master's, etc. I didn't realize how exhausted I was becoming until I had a conversation with a close mentor of mine during my California trip that, through some tears and general blubbering on my part, led to one end. Where am I? Not where am I going, not where have I been, but where am I right now? Jesus wants all of us. Everything we've got. All the strength and devotion we have and all of the tears and aches we bring. He wants the victories and the defeats, the highs and the lows, the small things and the big ones, too.
I had lost something important, and so I had been grasping at everything I could to anchor myself while telling myself in the back of my cacophonic mind that Jesus was there when I needed Him. I had lost control and that pushed me to attach myself to any semblance of control I could get my hands on. I had brought so much on myself to try and organize and manage and I was so bent on manifesting my own destiny through sheer will power and determination, that it led to me hoarding responsibility. Speaking with someone outside my situation illuminated all the empty towers I had built around myself and made me seriously look at the foundation of who I am. It took many hours of reflection and debate with myself and others and countless tears and compromises, again with myself and others, to get to where I am now and to agree to release all that I held on so tightly to.
I don't know what's going to happen from here, so if I can just answer some of the questions that always come around the beginning of wedding planning season and tune you in to my most recent episode, this is what I've got: I don't know where I'll work or live in six months time, I'm not planning on getting married this year, I haven't figured out my career, and I'm taking my life one moment at a time. To get back to somewhere I know I want to be, I'm letting go.
I ended the night, and the subsequent nights after, with this: I am here. That was it. It was all I could say without completely collapsing into a spiral that led me nowhere productive. So no Bible verses this time, no rumination on Jesus' teachings or words, no proverbial advice going forward, except this: Where are you?
Here's the thing though: I didn't like it. The plot line coming down from the cliff hanger I left off on was thinly addressed but mostly overlooked in favor of more drama to set up for the next one. Characters that once jumped off the screen and into my daily repertoire of conversation topics morphed into vapid stick people renditions of actual people. I found myself confused as to why I spent so much time with something that meant so little to me now, and I realized that the difference was time. I had gone on with my life and was no longer in the throes of obsession over what was happening in the Grey's universe, and I was able to let go.
Letting go isn't always that easy though.
I spent the last 16 weeks planning and preparing as I rounded out my college experience and made my way through student teaching, hoping to come out alive and in one piece at the end, though I would have settled for one of the two. Turning in my final paper and heading towards the coast on a week-long California trip the day that I finished was the break I had been subsisting off of during those final dragging moments of any taxing experience.
And taxing it was. People were constantly asking where I was going from here, so I constantly had to be thinking about graduation, a career, marriage, was I moving, did I have any interviews lined up, will I be pursuing my Master's, etc. I didn't realize how exhausted I was becoming until I had a conversation with a close mentor of mine during my California trip that, through some tears and general blubbering on my part, led to one end. Where am I? Not where am I going, not where have I been, but where am I right now? Jesus wants all of us. Everything we've got. All the strength and devotion we have and all of the tears and aches we bring. He wants the victories and the defeats, the highs and the lows, the small things and the big ones, too.
I had lost something important, and so I had been grasping at everything I could to anchor myself while telling myself in the back of my cacophonic mind that Jesus was there when I needed Him. I had lost control and that pushed me to attach myself to any semblance of control I could get my hands on. I had brought so much on myself to try and organize and manage and I was so bent on manifesting my own destiny through sheer will power and determination, that it led to me hoarding responsibility. Speaking with someone outside my situation illuminated all the empty towers I had built around myself and made me seriously look at the foundation of who I am. It took many hours of reflection and debate with myself and others and countless tears and compromises, again with myself and others, to get to where I am now and to agree to release all that I held on so tightly to.
I don't know what's going to happen from here, so if I can just answer some of the questions that always come around the beginning of wedding planning season and tune you in to my most recent episode, this is what I've got: I don't know where I'll work or live in six months time, I'm not planning on getting married this year, I haven't figured out my career, and I'm taking my life one moment at a time. To get back to somewhere I know I want to be, I'm letting go.
I ended the night, and the subsequent nights after, with this: I am here. That was it. It was all I could say without completely collapsing into a spiral that led me nowhere productive. So no Bible verses this time, no rumination on Jesus' teachings or words, no proverbial advice going forward, except this: Where are you?
Thursday, January 31, 2013
Making a Right Turn
My roommates are infuriating. They never take out the trash, I have to plead with them to simply wipe their messes off the counter when they've finished cooking and eating, and I always find remnants of them or their friends around the common areas. Unless I say something, the dishes usually go unwashed until they can no longer fit anymore on the counter next to the completely filled sink.
Ah. Now I know how my mom felt.
I get angry though. Take, for example, last week: I decided to rise above and take out the trash even though I was pretty sure I took it out last time and the time before that, I bought new trash bags when we were running low, and I throw away their stuff. “No matter! This is what it means to be a good roommate”, I thought cheerily to myself. The day was young, and I was headed to do some errands anyway, so I figured I’d just drop off all the trash on my way to my car. Normally, I would walk to the trash receptacle in front of our buildings, but the nearest one is one building over, and I was headed in the opposite direction to the parking garage. So I walked it over to the trash enclosure with the 15 foot walls and swinging metal doors. I pulled the pin up at the bottom of the door and walked the three bags into the enclosure. After being careful not to break any of the bags or spill trash juice on myself, I turned back around and stopped.
I had gotten stuck in the trash enclosure.
The door had slid back in my attempt to concentrate on the task at hand, and the pin had dropped itself back into its hole on the outside of the enclosure.
“I’ll just reach between the doors and pull it out again.” These doors are unfortunately designed without that luxury.
Fantastic. Well, that's what I get for trying to be nice. I’m the one wiping the counters, sweeping the floors, doing my dishes in a timely manner, not to mention (but really I am going to mention it) scraping off the caked on mystery substances from the stovetop that I don’t even use. THEY should be stuck in here, not ME. I’m the one doing all the work!
Then I stopped. After five minutes of searching for an alternative exit, calling one roommate who was already well on her way to class and one who didn’t pick up, then moping, I realized I am an advanced species and I couldn’t really be stuck. I looked down and noticed the distance between the floor and the doors was considerably larger than that between them. I pushed the pin up from the bottom and was released from my five minute cage. I didn’t leave just yet though. I looked around and realized how lucky I was that it was me and not one of them. I should have been glad that it was me and not one of my roommates without a cell phone or a coat. I should have been glad it wasn't raining or snowing or any combination therein. I had good shoes on, I had a warm coat, and I was able to get out on my own. I should have been grateful.
Thinking about how lucky I was that it was me and not one of them I think was a step in the right direction. Philippians 2:4 compels us to change our way of thinking. It reveals, “Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others”. Too often, I think about what they do to perturb me or how they’ve disrupted my routine, but they have their own routines and they’ve been gracious enough to humor me my trash-taking-out schedule and house rules. I used to go out of my way to make sure they did their part when I could have just as easily done it myself.
“Do not withhold good from those who deserve it, when it is in your power to act. Do not say to your neighbor, “Come back later; I’ll give it tomorrow”-- when you now have it with you. Do not plot harm against your neighbor, who lives trustfully near you. Do not accuse a man for no reason-- when he has done you no harm.”- Proverbs 3:27-30
I was waiting to do nice things for them when they shaped up. As soon as they got it together and could realize how to wipe a simple counter, that’s when I would stop watching TV late at night or keeping all of my dishes in the dish drying rack. I would sweep up their messes when they could learn to sweep up my mess just once. I’m really glad God didn’t decide to save humanity when we learned to stop sinning.
“But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”-Romans 5:8
Hmmm, His “love”. If God could send his son to die for us when we were completely undeserving, perhaps I could take out the trash for my roommates. He loves us, and he wants us to love each other, too. According to Jesus, the two greatest commandments are to love the Lord and to love our neighbors as ourselves.
I still forget if Proverbs comes before or after Psalms sometimes, and I have no desire to read Numbers in the slightest. I am perpetually flawed in the eyes of God and anyone else with working eyes. As much as I see the flaws in my roommates, I should see that it’s never out of malice or anger that they do the things they do. And even if it was, 1 Thessalonians 5:14-15 urges us to “... warn those who are idle, encourage the timid, help the weak, be patient with everyone. Make sure the nobody pays back wrong for wrong, but always try to be kind to each other and to everyone else”.
So I’ve decided to look on the bright side of all this. I get to hone my housekeeping skills, and they’ve afforded me the opportunity to grow as a person and as a self-proclaimed ‘Woman of God’. Truthfully, they’re teaching me more than I could have ever learned on my own, and for that, I am eternally grateful to all of them. That’s not to say I won’t still put the trash by the door when it’s their turn. But now I do it out of a heart of helpfulness and love, not exasperation and impatience.
And when I can, I take it out even when it’s not my turn.
“Be kind; for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.”-Ian MacLaren
Ah. Now I know how my mom felt.
I get angry though. Take, for example, last week: I decided to rise above and take out the trash even though I was pretty sure I took it out last time and the time before that, I bought new trash bags when we were running low, and I throw away their stuff. “No matter! This is what it means to be a good roommate”, I thought cheerily to myself. The day was young, and I was headed to do some errands anyway, so I figured I’d just drop off all the trash on my way to my car. Normally, I would walk to the trash receptacle in front of our buildings, but the nearest one is one building over, and I was headed in the opposite direction to the parking garage. So I walked it over to the trash enclosure with the 15 foot walls and swinging metal doors. I pulled the pin up at the bottom of the door and walked the three bags into the enclosure. After being careful not to break any of the bags or spill trash juice on myself, I turned back around and stopped.
I had gotten stuck in the trash enclosure.
The door had slid back in my attempt to concentrate on the task at hand, and the pin had dropped itself back into its hole on the outside of the enclosure.
“I’ll just reach between the doors and pull it out again.” These doors are unfortunately designed without that luxury.
Fantastic. Well, that's what I get for trying to be nice. I’m the one wiping the counters, sweeping the floors, doing my dishes in a timely manner, not to mention (but really I am going to mention it) scraping off the caked on mystery substances from the stovetop that I don’t even use. THEY should be stuck in here, not ME. I’m the one doing all the work!
Then I stopped. After five minutes of searching for an alternative exit, calling one roommate who was already well on her way to class and one who didn’t pick up, then moping, I realized I am an advanced species and I couldn’t really be stuck. I looked down and noticed the distance between the floor and the doors was considerably larger than that between them. I pushed the pin up from the bottom and was released from my five minute cage. I didn’t leave just yet though. I looked around and realized how lucky I was that it was me and not one of them. I should have been glad that it was me and not one of my roommates without a cell phone or a coat. I should have been glad it wasn't raining or snowing or any combination therein. I had good shoes on, I had a warm coat, and I was able to get out on my own. I should have been grateful.
Thinking about how lucky I was that it was me and not one of them I think was a step in the right direction. Philippians 2:4 compels us to change our way of thinking. It reveals, “Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others”. Too often, I think about what they do to perturb me or how they’ve disrupted my routine, but they have their own routines and they’ve been gracious enough to humor me my trash-taking-out schedule and house rules. I used to go out of my way to make sure they did their part when I could have just as easily done it myself.
“Do not withhold good from those who deserve it, when it is in your power to act. Do not say to your neighbor, “Come back later; I’ll give it tomorrow”-- when you now have it with you. Do not plot harm against your neighbor, who lives trustfully near you. Do not accuse a man for no reason-- when he has done you no harm.”- Proverbs 3:27-30
I was waiting to do nice things for them when they shaped up. As soon as they got it together and could realize how to wipe a simple counter, that’s when I would stop watching TV late at night or keeping all of my dishes in the dish drying rack. I would sweep up their messes when they could learn to sweep up my mess just once. I’m really glad God didn’t decide to save humanity when we learned to stop sinning.
“But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”-Romans 5:8
Hmmm, His “love”. If God could send his son to die for us when we were completely undeserving, perhaps I could take out the trash for my roommates. He loves us, and he wants us to love each other, too. According to Jesus, the two greatest commandments are to love the Lord and to love our neighbors as ourselves.
I still forget if Proverbs comes before or after Psalms sometimes, and I have no desire to read Numbers in the slightest. I am perpetually flawed in the eyes of God and anyone else with working eyes. As much as I see the flaws in my roommates, I should see that it’s never out of malice or anger that they do the things they do. And even if it was, 1 Thessalonians 5:14-15 urges us to “... warn those who are idle, encourage the timid, help the weak, be patient with everyone. Make sure the nobody pays back wrong for wrong, but always try to be kind to each other and to everyone else”.
So I’ve decided to look on the bright side of all this. I get to hone my housekeeping skills, and they’ve afforded me the opportunity to grow as a person and as a self-proclaimed ‘Woman of God’. Truthfully, they’re teaching me more than I could have ever learned on my own, and for that, I am eternally grateful to all of them. That’s not to say I won’t still put the trash by the door when it’s their turn. But now I do it out of a heart of helpfulness and love, not exasperation and impatience.
And when I can, I take it out even when it’s not my turn.
“Be kind; for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.”-Ian MacLaren
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
Falling for Boys and Falling Apart
I always feel compelled to write about certain things. God has this way of making it obvious, usually painfully so, about what should go into these posts of mine. But with the pain of whatever He puts on my heart, the healing I feel after delving into those subjects I don't normally talk about and into His word about them is blissfully cathartic.
Tonight, it really is about the heart. After contemplating my next post, it seems that He is insistent that I reveal my soul on the subject of love, waiting, marriage, and lust, so here goes everything.
Lately, it seems as if everyone and their brother is getting in a relationship, getting engaged, getting married, or generally having a grand time with their soul mate. I think it's something in the pollen or the air this time of year that causes it, but I, regrettably, am incredibly bitter about this. I get frustrated, jealous, catty, and feed on self pity and anger. I get those terrible feelings that I'm going to be alone for the rest of my life, God has forgotten me, and I must have something inherently wrong with me to have made it this far in life without a boyfriend. Mind you, I remember about this time that for years I've prayed for the one God has set aside for me, and the tack on to that prayer has always been that God would spare me heartache and get rid of all distractions and intermediary boyfriends. Nonetheless, I decide that I am interested in all the wrong guys and am upset when things don't work out. My thought process goes something like this: "Oh! He's cute. And nice. God wouldn't have brought him into my life if he wasn't at least a possibility. Maybe God needs me to make opportunities to talk to him. He won't know I'm serious unless I make the effort. I mean, God can't just lay everything out in front of me, I have to meet Him halfway! Well, he doesn't seem to be reciprocating, so maybe he's not the one. Eh, it's probably not meant to be anyway... Oh! He's cute over there." And scene. You'd think I'd get tired of playing the hopeless romantic all the time.
Let's just go back to one phrase in that little soliloquy- "God needs me". Is that ever the case? Sure, God can USE me, and God may WANT me, but there is never a time when God NEEDS me. I am the one who needs God all the time, every day, always.
This weekend at church, the speaker referenced Ephesians 2:8-9. It's one of the more well known verses, referring to salvation by faith and not works. It reads, "For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith- and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God- not by works, so that no one can boast". I've always just simplified that verse to "faith, not works", and I realized that could apply to my situation here, too. If I have no faith in God that He will provide for all my needs, that He cares for me, and that He is orchestrating every relationship in my life, then I rely on my works. I work to make different boys "the one", to keep the friendship afloat, and keep things interesting. I work to put them in my life and keep them there. If I believe in the prayer that I pray for my future husband and I believe that God will answer it, then I don't need to be forcing things to happen. God does not need my interjection into His perfect plans for me. Why is that so easy to say and so hard to do?
Missionary dating-(noun) When you think you are going to be a good influence on a non-believer, so you date them with the assumption that they will come to Christ because of your conviction and strength of faith. This is always a favorite subject for me because I denounce missionary dating to my friends and justify it for myself. Luke 6:42, anyone? "How can you say to your brother, 'Brother, let me take the speck out of your eye,' when you yourself fail to see the plank in your own eye?". I think I'm different for some reason, and while everyone is different, not one person is the same, we aren't that dissimilar. The only verse I have for my own struggle with justifying this to myself is the first sentence of II Corinthians 7:14, "Do not be yoked together with unbelievers". I don't think it gets much clearer than that, and it's a good thing too because I can be very dense.
So, we've covered love and waiting; now for lust and marriage.
I may not have the same struggles that everyone else has, but I think people can relate on some level to the essentials of a problem- be it jealousy, anger, lethargy, or pride. There are very specific things that I long for, some may even say lust for, and one of those things is to one day be married. That's great, right?! Well, it's great until I start worrying about it, wondering if I should be doing more, getting anxious. People always tell me, "It's going to happen when you least expect it! You've just got to stop looking!"
Encouraging? Sure. Helpful? Not really.
There are seemingly endless verses about marriage, waiting, lust, and especially love. Romans 5:3-5 states "Let us also glory in our sufferings for we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope". Not explicitly about love, but the trials and tribulations of waiting for that one person can be eased when this verse is applied. In suffering, in disparity, in hurt, there is hope. When we're down to our last straw and all out of ideas, we learn perseverance, and with perseverance we build character. Lastly, from our character we gather hope: hope for our present situation, whatever it may be, and hope for our future.
My last verse that I want to share with you is one of my favorites. It always seems to pop into my head whenever things get really difficult or the future seems bleak. "Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life"-Proverbs 4:23. To know that what I'm doing matters and there is solace in being single and guarding my heart makes life a little easier for me.
Thanks for reading.
Tonight, it really is about the heart. After contemplating my next post, it seems that He is insistent that I reveal my soul on the subject of love, waiting, marriage, and lust, so here goes everything.
Lately, it seems as if everyone and their brother is getting in a relationship, getting engaged, getting married, or generally having a grand time with their soul mate. I think it's something in the pollen or the air this time of year that causes it, but I, regrettably, am incredibly bitter about this. I get frustrated, jealous, catty, and feed on self pity and anger. I get those terrible feelings that I'm going to be alone for the rest of my life, God has forgotten me, and I must have something inherently wrong with me to have made it this far in life without a boyfriend. Mind you, I remember about this time that for years I've prayed for the one God has set aside for me, and the tack on to that prayer has always been that God would spare me heartache and get rid of all distractions and intermediary boyfriends. Nonetheless, I decide that I am interested in all the wrong guys and am upset when things don't work out. My thought process goes something like this: "Oh! He's cute. And nice. God wouldn't have brought him into my life if he wasn't at least a possibility. Maybe God needs me to make opportunities to talk to him. He won't know I'm serious unless I make the effort. I mean, God can't just lay everything out in front of me, I have to meet Him halfway! Well, he doesn't seem to be reciprocating, so maybe he's not the one. Eh, it's probably not meant to be anyway... Oh! He's cute over there." And scene. You'd think I'd get tired of playing the hopeless romantic all the time.
Let's just go back to one phrase in that little soliloquy- "God needs me". Is that ever the case? Sure, God can USE me, and God may WANT me, but there is never a time when God NEEDS me. I am the one who needs God all the time, every day, always.
This weekend at church, the speaker referenced Ephesians 2:8-9. It's one of the more well known verses, referring to salvation by faith and not works. It reads, "For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith- and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God- not by works, so that no one can boast". I've always just simplified that verse to "faith, not works", and I realized that could apply to my situation here, too. If I have no faith in God that He will provide for all my needs, that He cares for me, and that He is orchestrating every relationship in my life, then I rely on my works. I work to make different boys "the one", to keep the friendship afloat, and keep things interesting. I work to put them in my life and keep them there. If I believe in the prayer that I pray for my future husband and I believe that God will answer it, then I don't need to be forcing things to happen. God does not need my interjection into His perfect plans for me. Why is that so easy to say and so hard to do?
Missionary dating-(noun) When you think you are going to be a good influence on a non-believer, so you date them with the assumption that they will come to Christ because of your conviction and strength of faith. This is always a favorite subject for me because I denounce missionary dating to my friends and justify it for myself. Luke 6:42, anyone? "How can you say to your brother, 'Brother, let me take the speck out of your eye,' when you yourself fail to see the plank in your own eye?". I think I'm different for some reason, and while everyone is different, not one person is the same, we aren't that dissimilar. The only verse I have for my own struggle with justifying this to myself is the first sentence of II Corinthians 7:14, "Do not be yoked together with unbelievers". I don't think it gets much clearer than that, and it's a good thing too because I can be very dense.
So, we've covered love and waiting; now for lust and marriage.
I may not have the same struggles that everyone else has, but I think people can relate on some level to the essentials of a problem- be it jealousy, anger, lethargy, or pride. There are very specific things that I long for, some may even say lust for, and one of those things is to one day be married. That's great, right?! Well, it's great until I start worrying about it, wondering if I should be doing more, getting anxious. People always tell me, "It's going to happen when you least expect it! You've just got to stop looking!"
Encouraging? Sure. Helpful? Not really.
There are seemingly endless verses about marriage, waiting, lust, and especially love. Romans 5:3-5 states "Let us also glory in our sufferings for we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope". Not explicitly about love, but the trials and tribulations of waiting for that one person can be eased when this verse is applied. In suffering, in disparity, in hurt, there is hope. When we're down to our last straw and all out of ideas, we learn perseverance, and with perseverance we build character. Lastly, from our character we gather hope: hope for our present situation, whatever it may be, and hope for our future.
My last verse that I want to share with you is one of my favorites. It always seems to pop into my head whenever things get really difficult or the future seems bleak. "Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life"-Proverbs 4:23. To know that what I'm doing matters and there is solace in being single and guarding my heart makes life a little easier for me.
Thanks for reading.
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Up and Up
Goodness, can't I think of titles besides Relient K songs? Oh well.
After my last post, I received a LOT of support and understanding from people I had no idea even paid attention to the stuff I write. Friends texted me from out of the blue saying they read it and they were there for me if I ever needed to talk. My parents had a better understanding of what I was going through since I often times shut them out when I don't want to talk about my shortcomings or other difficult subjects.
If Tuesday was the my worst day in Arizona yet, then the rest of the week was great to the same degree. On Thursday, I walked into a random office in the building where I just had class to get a paper signed by the appropriate people before my meeting with my counselor about my new game plan with Tuesday's setback. Turns out that would be the office of one of the nicest ladies I've ever dealt with at my college. She took and threw away my paper, printed up some new ones, and informed me that she would try and get my $1000 tuition fee from a summer class I dropped. She called in favors, pulled some strings, and walked me to the dean's office to sweet talk the secretary and make sure I was all set. I almost cried. Instead, I gave her two passes to the movies that I get every month from working there. You would have thought I gave her a hundred dollar bill. I told her about my plans to try and student teach abroad, but with the program through the Department of Defense on hiatus, I was a bit lost. She cocks an eyebrow and says, "I have a friend who works with the Department of Defense. Shoot her an email and say you know me. She might be able to do something for you."
That was almost two weeks ago now, and I still go in and see her.
The rest of my weekend was all family and presents and relaxing. I calmly spoke to my mom about my new expected graduation date, which is only one semester more than originally planned. She was very supportive.
My counseling appointment is still in the process of being set up, but I have high hopes that it can do nothing but help me at this point in my career and life. You would think they would respond more quickly to people who want counseling, no?
Pride has been the theme of the month for me. It'll probably turn out to be the theme of the year. I realized something though- I was putting my pride in all the wrong places, and everything was crashing down around me. I should pride myself on strength of character, not how many people compliment my outfit. I should be striving to honor my parents by doing the best that I can with the education they are providing for me, not convince them that college just doesn't get me and maybe I should take some time off. All the things I prided myself on (being able to talk my way out of things, passing classes with the minimum of homework done, the put togetherness I presented myself with in all situations) were all for naught. I couldn't talk my way out of the boot on my car. I couldn't pass the class without buying the book or by putting off the homework and believing my teacher would understand. I couldn't pull myself together to save my own sorry ego from the disappointment in my parent's faces. I was trying to pass life with the minimum of effort.
I looked up some verses on pride. Of course, by happenstance I was flipping through my Bible to find a verse in Galatians when I stumbled upon Colossians. I instantly had a song pop in my head from when I was about four years old and still listened to a kid's Christian songs cassette tape. "Colossians THREE, Colossians three, twenty threeeeeeee. Whatever you do, (guitar riff) work at it with all your heart! As working for the Lord, not for men." I promise you, I will never forget Colossians 3:23.
Perfectly pertinent. Time to place pride in my schoolwork, in my ability to study, not in my ability to procrastinate. Time to take pride in a life of work and dedication, not leisure and ease. I never want another day to pass where I say, "Man, I wish I could do this day again" because any day where I say that is a day I haven't given everything I've got.
Back to the verse in Galatians; I found it finally. Just one verse was presented in the article, but I read the whole chapter. Let's have a look at the main points: "If anyone thinks he is something when he is nothing, he deceives himself. Each one should test his own actions. Then he can take pride in himself, without comparing himself to somebody else, for each one should carry his own load.... A man reaps what he sows. The one who sows to please his sinful nature, from that nature will reap destruction; the one who sows to please the Spirit, from the Spirit will reap eternal life. Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up."-Galatians 6:3-5, 8-9
Well, shoot. It's fitting that I have to do homework now, but I leave you with this final musing: "Whether you think you can or you can't, you're right."-Henry Ford.
After my last post, I received a LOT of support and understanding from people I had no idea even paid attention to the stuff I write. Friends texted me from out of the blue saying they read it and they were there for me if I ever needed to talk. My parents had a better understanding of what I was going through since I often times shut them out when I don't want to talk about my shortcomings or other difficult subjects.
If Tuesday was the my worst day in Arizona yet, then the rest of the week was great to the same degree. On Thursday, I walked into a random office in the building where I just had class to get a paper signed by the appropriate people before my meeting with my counselor about my new game plan with Tuesday's setback. Turns out that would be the office of one of the nicest ladies I've ever dealt with at my college. She took and threw away my paper, printed up some new ones, and informed me that she would try and get my $1000 tuition fee from a summer class I dropped. She called in favors, pulled some strings, and walked me to the dean's office to sweet talk the secretary and make sure I was all set. I almost cried. Instead, I gave her two passes to the movies that I get every month from working there. You would have thought I gave her a hundred dollar bill. I told her about my plans to try and student teach abroad, but with the program through the Department of Defense on hiatus, I was a bit lost. She cocks an eyebrow and says, "I have a friend who works with the Department of Defense. Shoot her an email and say you know me. She might be able to do something for you."
That was almost two weeks ago now, and I still go in and see her.
The rest of my weekend was all family and presents and relaxing. I calmly spoke to my mom about my new expected graduation date, which is only one semester more than originally planned. She was very supportive.
My counseling appointment is still in the process of being set up, but I have high hopes that it can do nothing but help me at this point in my career and life. You would think they would respond more quickly to people who want counseling, no?
Pride has been the theme of the month for me. It'll probably turn out to be the theme of the year. I realized something though- I was putting my pride in all the wrong places, and everything was crashing down around me. I should pride myself on strength of character, not how many people compliment my outfit. I should be striving to honor my parents by doing the best that I can with the education they are providing for me, not convince them that college just doesn't get me and maybe I should take some time off. All the things I prided myself on (being able to talk my way out of things, passing classes with the minimum of homework done, the put togetherness I presented myself with in all situations) were all for naught. I couldn't talk my way out of the boot on my car. I couldn't pass the class without buying the book or by putting off the homework and believing my teacher would understand. I couldn't pull myself together to save my own sorry ego from the disappointment in my parent's faces. I was trying to pass life with the minimum of effort.
I looked up some verses on pride. Of course, by happenstance I was flipping through my Bible to find a verse in Galatians when I stumbled upon Colossians. I instantly had a song pop in my head from when I was about four years old and still listened to a kid's Christian songs cassette tape. "Colossians THREE, Colossians three, twenty threeeeeeee. Whatever you do, (guitar riff) work at it with all your heart! As working for the Lord, not for men." I promise you, I will never forget Colossians 3:23.
Perfectly pertinent. Time to place pride in my schoolwork, in my ability to study, not in my ability to procrastinate. Time to take pride in a life of work and dedication, not leisure and ease. I never want another day to pass where I say, "Man, I wish I could do this day again" because any day where I say that is a day I haven't given everything I've got.
Back to the verse in Galatians; I found it finally. Just one verse was presented in the article, but I read the whole chapter. Let's have a look at the main points: "If anyone thinks he is something when he is nothing, he deceives himself. Each one should test his own actions. Then he can take pride in himself, without comparing himself to somebody else, for each one should carry his own load.... A man reaps what he sows. The one who sows to please his sinful nature, from that nature will reap destruction; the one who sows to please the Spirit, from the Spirit will reap eternal life. Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up."-Galatians 6:3-5, 8-9
Well, shoot. It's fitting that I have to do homework now, but I leave you with this final musing: "Whether you think you can or you can't, you're right."-Henry Ford.
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Sometimes, I Want to Just Run Away
Today was my very worst day in the entire time I've been in college. I started off the morning late for class because I managed to sleep through both alarms I set up. Undaunted, I convinced myself this was going to be a great day if I just kept telling myself that it would be. I went to class, made it through the 3 hours of lecture and activities, and was asked to stay after class by my teacher. She leads me to her office only to say that if I get 100% on the remaining assignments in one portion of the class, the highest grade I can get is a D, and I'll have to drop all nine units worth of credit since the three classes I take from her must be taken concurrently.
I steeled my will and resisted the urge to cry, convinced this was a test from God to see how I trust in Him at all times. I had an appointment at a local school directly after my second class of the day so I drove and parked in the pay-by-the-hour spot. Armed with quarters, I walk over to the kiosk only to find a man working on the only machine in the nearest 500 yards. He informs me that the machine should be up by this afternoon, and I should be able to park in the spot until then. I see other cars in the other designated spots, but I leave a note on my dash stating that the machine was broken and I'd be back in an hour just to be cautious. Sitting in class 30 minutes later, I felt uneasy, so I grabbed some quarters and made my way to the lot to see if the machine was fixed yet only to find my car booted with yet another $90 ticket on the windshield. The supervisor at parking services was as sympathetic to my case as a wall would have been. After paying the appropriate people the appropriate amounts, my car was released and I made my way to where I needed to go that afternoon.
On my drive back, I couldn't fight it any longer as the tears welled up in my eyes and I couldn't overcome the feeling of utter failure and hopelessness. I rounded the last few corners and hoped I wouldn't see anyone I know, or if I did that they wouldn't see the tears trickling out from under my sunglasses. Finally, I said one little prayer that I would find a close parking spot so I could go up to my room as quickly as possible.
Now, the way my apartment complex is set up, there is one main row, with limited parking, flanked by the buildings on either side, that leads to a parking garage at the back. I think I've been able to park on the main row twice since I moved here one month ago. As I drive past my building, the last one on the left, there is one singular parking spot, directly in front of the stairwell that leads to my apartment. Through all the turmoil, heartbreak, and confusion of the day, my one tiny prayer was answered. Even when it seemed like everyone was disappointed in me or giving me some terrible news or telling me that there was nothing they could do, He did something. I'm still trying to figure this whole mess of a day out, but that simple act of kindness was like God saying, "I know things are bad now, but please, just hold on and I'll answer all the rest of your prayers, too. Just wait." It pulled me out of my head and made me see that in the darkest moments there are tiny slivers of glittering hope if we just look for them long enough.
I realized more than anything, my pride was hurt today, which is something I have trouble dealing with. I was going to enjoy telling people how, in my senior year of college, I carried 22 credits my first semester, worked part time, and completed 70 hours in a real classroom outside of all of that, all while donating plasma once a week and volunteering at church every week, still finding time to have a social life. I was going to revel in the adoration and astonishment that was going to get me, similar to that when I told them I graduated high school a semester early, got my Associate's three semesters later at 18 and would have my Bachelor's by the time I'm 20. It was going to be the crowning achievement of my young life, and now that was shot. I had to promise to pay my parent's back when I saw them next and rehash every painful detail of dealing with parking services and listen to their disappointment. I set up an appointment with a free counseling service through my school and hopefully that will help me learn to deal with these things more maturely.
I'll end with one verse. I found it and wrote it down a long time ago for a friend of mine who I thought was going down a dangerous path, but I think I was meant to remember it for my own sake now.
"When pride comes, then comes disgrace, but with humility comes wisdom."-Proverbs 11:3
I steeled my will and resisted the urge to cry, convinced this was a test from God to see how I trust in Him at all times. I had an appointment at a local school directly after my second class of the day so I drove and parked in the pay-by-the-hour spot. Armed with quarters, I walk over to the kiosk only to find a man working on the only machine in the nearest 500 yards. He informs me that the machine should be up by this afternoon, and I should be able to park in the spot until then. I see other cars in the other designated spots, but I leave a note on my dash stating that the machine was broken and I'd be back in an hour just to be cautious. Sitting in class 30 minutes later, I felt uneasy, so I grabbed some quarters and made my way to the lot to see if the machine was fixed yet only to find my car booted with yet another $90 ticket on the windshield. The supervisor at parking services was as sympathetic to my case as a wall would have been. After paying the appropriate people the appropriate amounts, my car was released and I made my way to where I needed to go that afternoon.
On my drive back, I couldn't fight it any longer as the tears welled up in my eyes and I couldn't overcome the feeling of utter failure and hopelessness. I rounded the last few corners and hoped I wouldn't see anyone I know, or if I did that they wouldn't see the tears trickling out from under my sunglasses. Finally, I said one little prayer that I would find a close parking spot so I could go up to my room as quickly as possible.
Now, the way my apartment complex is set up, there is one main row, with limited parking, flanked by the buildings on either side, that leads to a parking garage at the back. I think I've been able to park on the main row twice since I moved here one month ago. As I drive past my building, the last one on the left, there is one singular parking spot, directly in front of the stairwell that leads to my apartment. Through all the turmoil, heartbreak, and confusion of the day, my one tiny prayer was answered. Even when it seemed like everyone was disappointed in me or giving me some terrible news or telling me that there was nothing they could do, He did something. I'm still trying to figure this whole mess of a day out, but that simple act of kindness was like God saying, "I know things are bad now, but please, just hold on and I'll answer all the rest of your prayers, too. Just wait." It pulled me out of my head and made me see that in the darkest moments there are tiny slivers of glittering hope if we just look for them long enough.
I realized more than anything, my pride was hurt today, which is something I have trouble dealing with. I was going to enjoy telling people how, in my senior year of college, I carried 22 credits my first semester, worked part time, and completed 70 hours in a real classroom outside of all of that, all while donating plasma once a week and volunteering at church every week, still finding time to have a social life. I was going to revel in the adoration and astonishment that was going to get me, similar to that when I told them I graduated high school a semester early, got my Associate's three semesters later at 18 and would have my Bachelor's by the time I'm 20. It was going to be the crowning achievement of my young life, and now that was shot. I had to promise to pay my parent's back when I saw them next and rehash every painful detail of dealing with parking services and listen to their disappointment. I set up an appointment with a free counseling service through my school and hopefully that will help me learn to deal with these things more maturely.
I'll end with one verse. I found it and wrote it down a long time ago for a friend of mine who I thought was going down a dangerous path, but I think I was meant to remember it for my own sake now.
"When pride comes, then comes disgrace, but with humility comes wisdom."-Proverbs 11:3
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