Newness...

It's shaping up to look like 2009 is going to be full of a LOT of things that I've never done before, am afraid I'll fail miserably at doing, (and apparently, from reading this sentence thus far, a grand opportunity for a lot of pessimism...lovely), and in general a lot of "scary" things that are going to happen. 

Let's see. 

I start my job at David's Bridal (read the previous post if you want to know how much I'm fretting about that one). 

I am the Oasis Coordinator for Intervarsity. That means I lead a team of people who plan our weekly Large Group meetings for between 60 and 150 people. This includes worship, speaker, announcements, games, emcees, and a whole lot of other things I'm still figuring out. It also means I'm on Exec for IV; both of these are things that I have no idea how to do. I've never even been involved in planning an Oasis meeting before...this should be interesting. 

I have moved into my first apartment. (Read: off-campus, no meal plan). I will need to learn the smaller details of off-campus life: commuting with time to get to park and get to class, grocery shopping and gasp: cooking meals (I'm a good cook; it'll just require more time...), and yadda yadda yadda. 

And this one should be the easiest, but I'm terribly afraid to fail at it. I'm the Maid of Honor in my best friend's wedding. Cool, except that means I plan a bachelorette party, a couple showers, keep her from freaking out the closer we get, etc. 

Anyway, I'm scared. There's so much "new" happening and so much "old" not happening. So much "comfortable" leaving. It reminds me of a Sara Groves song, so once again, I'm going to stop rambling about my life and relate it to a coherently written song:

I don't want to leave here, don't want to stay,

Feels like pinching to me, either way. 

But the places I long for the most are the places where I've been

They are calling out to me, like a long-lost friend.

It's not about losing faith; it's not about trust.

It's all about comfortable when you move so much. 

And the place I was wasn't perfect, but I had found a way to live

And it wasn't milk or honey but then neither is this. 

I've been painting pictures of Egypt, leaving out what it lacks

The future feels so hard and I want to back

But the places that used to fit me cannot hold the things I've learned

And those roads were closed off to me while my back was turned. 

The past is so tangible, I know it by heart.

Familiar things are never easy to discard.

And I was dying for some freedom but now I hesitate to go

I am caught between the "promised" and the things I know. 

And I know that in my inadequacies, God will show up. I know that in most of these things, I won't, and maybe can't, "fail" in the normal sense of the word. I guess the song is really accurate when it says: "I am caught between the 'promised' and the things I know." I'm caught in between what I know, what has become comfortable, even if it wasn't "milk and honey," and the things I know God has in store, that He has promised to work together for good. Why is that concept so hard? 

Terrified...Absolutely

I officially start my job this week. As in, I will be working one-on-one with brides, mothers of brides/grooms, bridal parties...you get the gist. As in, after one hour of sort-of shadowing a bridal consultant who's done this for almost two years, I'm on my own. As in, after 12 hours of training, (read: going through a manual in a group and briefly looking through the stock, which has since changed to feature the Spring Collection), I'm flying solo. 

BAD IDEA. I don't know the new merchandise (I barely knew the old merchandise). I don't know where everything is located. Or how to pick out the perfect tiara and jewelry to "accessorize" the dress. Or how to suggest dress styles based on body type. Or how to take a customer's style preference and suggest more dresses that are similar. Or how to use the cash register. 

And I haven't memorized my employee number yet. AHHHHH. 

I'm terrified. I feel so utterly incompetent. 

Maybe I Am Missing Something...

Right next to Campus is a Walgreens, on the corner. As I was going in the other day, I noticed something that made me stop and wonder...

In front of the stoor, as is so common this time of year, was a Salvation Army employee ringing a bell, asking for donations. And on the street corner was a homeless man, with a sign that said: "Homeless veteran. Anything helps. God bless." And I wondered...how ironic it seemed that the Salvation Army employee stood not forty feet from the homeless veteran, that people were giving money to the employee, that the homeless man continued to be avoided.

I am not in any way doubting the good things that the Salvation Army does in our community, as in many others around the country. I just found it odd.

On a whim...

As many of you know, I have been helping with almost every detail of Laura Jo's wedding-- and enjoying it thoroughly. As a part of that, I went with her to many different bridal shops to try on gowns... and the more I learned, the more the sales associates (or bridal consultants) would just let me do their job for them and leave us alone.

So the other day, my friend Sarah asked me to go with her to David's Bridal to look at gowns for her wedding. I agreed because it's becoming something that I enjoy and that I'm knowledgeable about.

Anyway, the bridal consultant was busy helping someone else and joked around with me about doing her job for her. I joked back, asking if they were hiring. "Yes, we are," she told me. "And you should get an application." I went to the front and got an application and was planning to take it home, and with exams and everything going on right now, I figured, I might get around to this. Besides, what good would an employee discount do me at David's? (actually that thought didn't cross my mind at the time). Anyway, the lady stopped me and told me to fill it out while I was still in the store and went to get the assistant manager, who promptly asked me when the soonest was I could come in for an interview. So, the following day I had an interview with the manager, who asked me two questions and then talked about job duties and my "future at David's Bridal."

I go in to observe on Saturday and then I start training on Sunday. Wow. Who would've thought that I would be a bridal consultant at 20? But apparently I did something right that day because the whole store is talking about me. Lovely.

It's a job and I am so blessed to have found one that will work with my schedule next semester. I'm kind of excited and a little nervous too.

Akeelah and the Bee

"You know that feeling where everything feels right? Where you don't have to worry about tomorrow or yesterday? Where you feel safe and know you're doing the best you can? There's a word for that. It's called love." -Akeelah and the Bee

Grown-Up Christmas List

I hate this time of year. Oh yes, I love giving thanks, anticipating and celebrating the birth of our Savior, and the impending joy of this season. But, with my birthday three days before Christmas, and two different families to celebrate Christmas and my birthday with, a lot of nagging goes on. Everyone wants to know what I want. "Nothing," is not an acceptable answer. But for whatever reason "want" and "need" are so synonymous in my mind. I don't need anything so I feel like I don't want anything. 

My heart is so broken for the world around me that I feel unreasonably selfish wanting anything that I don't absolutely need. And I have more than enough as it is. I have food, a place to live, and I'm on my way to having a degree with which to obtain a career. 

I can't describe to my family that I just want other people to have enough too. Sure, we go to the trees and get a name printed on an angel-shaped piece of cardstock and go purchase of a few things or adopt a family for Christmas, but my heart is so burdened for all the other children, families, people, even animals out there who are lonely, cold, hungry...hurting. 

So here's my lifelong wish

My grown-up Christmas list

Not for myself

But for a world in need

No more lives torn apart

That wars would never start

And time would heal all hearts

And everyone would have a friend

And right would always win

And love would never end

This is my grown-up Christmas list

As children we believed 

The grandest sight to see

Was something lovely 

Wrapped beneath our tree.

Well, Heaven surely knows

That packages and bows

Can never heal 

A hurting human soul...

I don't want to become apathetic or to even care less about everyone else. I just don't want to be so weighed down by it in a season that is supposed to be full of joy and excitement. 

This is Emily. Lindsay left up her blog at my house. The end.





currently listening to: the format

A Simple Prayer

May God bless you with discomfort at easy answers, half truths, and superficial relationships, so that you may live deep within your heart.

May God bless you with anger at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people, so that you may work for justice, freedom and peace.

May God bless you with tears to shed for those who suffer from pain, rejection, starvation and war, so that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and to turn their pain into joy.

May God bless you with enough foolishness to believe that you can make a difference in this world, so that you can do what others claim cannot be done.

May you trust God that you are exactly where you are meant to be, so that you can act without fear and in total confidence of His power.

May you be confident knowing you are a child of God.

Honor(ed)

As my best friend plans her wedding, no detail, no matter how small, has been unknown to me. From colors, to the dress, to the location, each and every aspect has been something on which she asked my opinion, took me with her to shop or visit, etc. 99% of the time, I knew things before her family did.
But this weekend, she surprised me. We were in the Outer Banks together and I had gone to take a shower in our suite. When I returned, there was a note card and a small box on my pillow. I knew what the notecard was going to say because I had helped her type the poems for all six of them and print them up. She was then going to hand-write notes to each girl, asking them to be a bridesmaid in her wedding. So, you can imagine my surprise when I opened the card, read the poem, and where I had typed it to say "Will you be my bridesmaid?" at the bottom, it instead said, "Will you be my Maid of Honor?" I just sat there at first and the first thing I said to her was: "You typed up a whole other card." She just laughed. I was so shocked and so honored to be asked to play the biggest role in her wedding party. And of course, I accepted.
(Oh, and we had a lovely time in the Outer Banks).

George Whitfield, an 18th C preacher, was known for his theological disagreements with John Wesley. The two, though both respectable men, disagreed so greatly in their theology of Christianity. One day, a reporter asked George Whitfield about John Wesley. "Reverend," the reporter said, "do you think you will see John Wesley in Heaven?" The question was an obvious invitation to openly bash Wesley's theology and character.
"No, I do not," replied Whitfield.
"Why is that?" the reporter probed, surprised.
Whitfield answered, "Because I believe that John Wesley will be so close to the bosom of God that we will not be able to see him for all the surrounding glory."

Something Bigger Than Me

I realized yesterday that I expect other people to come through and "fix" things, whether they are professionals, friends, family, whatever. I expect that if I have a problem that I cannot fix, that they ought to know how and be willing to fix it. The problem is rarely with the willingness. It's the knowing how.

And I realized yesterday that my expectations of other people in this way stems from the fact that I don't completely trust God. I don't trust Him to be in control. I don't trust Him to take care of me. I don't trust Him to be good. I don't trust Him to...be God. So, I decided that that's not okay. (I know, I know I'm brilliant).

I am trying to live in the core truth that God is good and that His plan is perfect, whatever that means for my life right now.

Whatever You're doing inside of me,
It feels like chaos but somehow there's peace.
And though it's hard to surrender to what I can't see,
I'm giving in to something Heavenly.

Whatever You're doing inside of me,
It feels like chaos but I believe
You're up to something bigger than me,
Larger than life, something heavenly.
-Sanctus Real

Irreplaceable

I realized yesterday that I have a serious need to feel like I cannot be easily replaced. And maybe this is selfish, worldly, un-Christian, and egotistical of me. But the need is very real.

I recently quit my job as an RA, which also means that I no longer sit on about five Departmental committees. It also means that I am not on the Exec Board of the RA Association. Obviously, the Department is trying to fill a gap because they are missing a staff member, but for some reason it hurts when I feel like they are just flippantly asking whoever comes to mind first if they'd like my job. I'd like to think that I was better at my job than the typical joe-schmoe.

My guess is that my need to feel irreplaceable is deeply rooted in my insecurity about my worth and whether or not I am good enough. It's an interesting revelation that at 20 I question monumental things like this. Shouldn't I be certain by now that I am worth something? That I am valued? Why is such an elementary idea so difficult for me to grasp?

And unfortunately, I don't just feel like this in my job. I feel like this in many areas of my life and it bothers me that I question in relationships if people could replace me with someone they liked better. Shouldn't I trust my friends and family and community more than that? Shouldn't I understand their love isn't going to just vanish?

Yeah, I don't know.

I've Come To Realize...

I didn't get tagged but I like this... and well, since I'm not sleeping pretty much at all, I haven't much better to do with my time.


1. I've come to realize that my hair...does not want to be straight or flat, regardless of how long I work on it in the mornings.
2. I've come to realize that my legs...appreciate high heels less than I thought.
3. I've come to realize that my job...became my identity.
4. I've come to realize that when I'm…becoming increasingly more relational the longer I'm in college.
5. I've come to realize that I need...to be around people.
6. I've come to realize that I have lost...my ability to keep people at arm's length for fear of getting hurt.
7. I've come to realize that I hate it when…people aren't listening to me.
8. I've come to realize that if I'm drunk…I can't answer this one, sorry.
9. I've come to realize that money...is easier to give away the more I understand that it isn't mine to begin with!
10. I've come to realize that people...aren't all going to leave; people will stay and they'll walk beside you.
11. I've come to realize that I'll always…believe that I can change the world.
12. I've come to realize that my significant other…will come along in God's perfect timing.
13. I've come to realize that my mom...does the best she can and loves me more than I know.
14. I've come to realize that my cell phone...is worth going back for even if I'm already running late.
15. I've come to realize that when I woke up this morning I…wasn't sure I wanted to face another day.
16. I've come to realize last night before I went to sleep…the world keeps turning and each day is a fresh start.
17. I've come to realize right now I am thinking about ...how much I want to accomplish as I grow up.
19. I've come to realize that when I get on Myspace…I am creeped out and almost immediately log out.
20. I've come to realize that today...I'm where I'm called to be, for good or bad.
21. I've come to realize that tonight...I'm still sleeping poorly (clearly, since I'm blogging well past midnight and have been up since 7am).
22. I've come to realize that tomorrow...is another opportunity to be used by God to further his kingdom- NOT mine.
23. I've come to realize that I really want to…grow up and be a mommy.
24. I've come to realize that life...is a journey and there is joy all along the way!
25. I've come to realize that my friends…aren't giving up or going away.
26. I've come to realize this year... has been crazy but I'll look back on it in the future and be amazed at the things God brought me through.

I'm not tagging people 'cause it's doubtful many people read this anymore.

Bowing Out

I learned an important lesson just fifteen minutes ago: how to bow out. I have been an RA (resident advisor) for over a year, and have learned to utilize my resources and pass the ball, when things are too much for me to handle alone. They drill into our heads the idea that we are never alone, that there are always others to go to.

BUT, I quit my job this past Friday, for a number of reasons. So tonight when someone came to me with a monumental problem, you'd think protocol and resources would be jumping out at me, that what had been drilled into my head at every training opportunity would come naturally tonight. Well, friends, it didn't.

I stumbled through advice. I hestitated to make a decision. I had more questions than answers. I felt more alone in dealing with this situation than I have in a while. And after calling a couple people, I knew what I had to do: bow out. This wasn't a good time for me to handle this and there were plenty of other people around to help, so what was I doing? I know that at this point in my life, the stress and anxiety of everything that's going on is almost more than I can bear on a daily basis, and here I was trying to take on someone else's needs too.

So, after being given "permission" (or orders, whatever) to pass the buck to someone else, I did. And I learned an important lesson: that bowing out isn't selfish, sometimes it's selfless, because you know your limits well enough to know that you could end up doing more harm than good; and it means giving others an opportunity to come around this person and love and support them.

The Newest Addition

They're not teenaged. They're not mutant. And they're not ninjas, but they ARE my four itty-bitty red-eared sliders... turtles, that is.

Here they are:

This one is Ralph.

This is Waldo.

This is Emerson.

And Squirt, the littlest one, was hiding from the camera. They're so fun. They swim all around and wrestle with each other and kick and hit each other and climb up on the rocks. I'm more attached to these reptiles than I thought I would be-- though I'm still a very big dog (and cat...ish) person.

Sometimes, words fail.

Four Years

I started classes today. I have been at school in the residence halls for almost three weeks, though, for RA training. I'm emotionally, mentally and physically exhausted, and my first week has only just begun. Great.

But as I go to classes and hear the same speeches about class expectations, rules, academic integrity, assignment policies, blah blah blah blah, over and over again, I find myself bored, wishing I was finished with college. And as my RA job sometimes feels more like babysitting and crowd control than valuable experience and mentoring, I find myself frustrated. And as I feel like there aren't enough hours in the day to get everything done that everyone expects me to do, I find myself feeling like a failure, like I'm letting people down. And as I spend time with friends, who will graduate in December or in May, leaving me alone for my senior year, I find myself wishing time would stop right in its tracks.

But today a professor said: "Enjoy this time. It's the best four years of your life."

Here's the thing. This better not be the best four years of my life. Not because I don't love college. I do. I love almost everything about it. But my philosophy is that if my life is not getting (overall) progressively better as the years go by, I'm doing something wrong. When I leave college, I shouldn't then have ahead of me fifty years of letdowns, of wishing I could just be in college again. That isn't to say that life will be a breeze or that there won't be hard times, but I feel like if I'm miserable or upset about something as I go through life, I should work to fix it. I want to be in control of my "destiny" so to speak. I can choose to be happy or choose to spend the rest of my life lamenting about how college was the best four years of my life. I want the former.

Life should get better, not level off or get worse. College shouldn't be it. It should just be another springboard to get to where I want to go.

Most folks are about as happy as they make up their minds to be. -Abraham Lincoln

My Restless Heart

I wrote this poem about two days ago... 

My Restless Heart

My restless heart grows weary

From the strain of every day

As I plod my way through life

And watch the skies turn gray

My restless heart strains

Against the pulling of the tide

As I fail and stumble, trip and fall

Though time and time I've tried

My restless heart cannot take it

The years of endless failures mount

The heartache and the broken dreams

Are far too numerous to count

My restless heart is tired now

From trying to love this world

And trying to please everyone 

And be their perfect little girl

My restless heart is empty now

Void of any hope or dream

For as angry words break me down

Bitterness tears me at the seams

My restless heart is torn between

Trying to leave my past behind

Or traveling down the worn-out road

Toward a familiar pain I know I'll find

My restless heart is growing weak

From the toil of each painful day

My restless heart is just not strong enough

To choose to go another way

Weekend Convo

We were all hanging out in Laura Jo's room... and I was trying to maneuver around some stuff, and in doing so I, without thinking, kicked her dumbell hoping to move it out of my way.

My response wasn't a cry of agony or a groan of pain. I looked Laura Jo square in the eye, and said indignantly, "Your dumbell didn't move when I kicked it!"

"Gee, Linds, it's an eight-pound weight. What'd you expect?"

"I dunno. It's light green and cute and pretty. I just figured it would float away when I kicked it."

And then there was lots of laughing and realizing the insanity of all that had just happened.

Forgiveness, Pt. 2

But I have finally been able to realize that for me, forgiveness is much harder than murder, but more people benefit in the end. The guy who hurt me has a wife and a daughter (Does that bother me? Definitely. Do I wonder if he hurts his daughter? All the time. Do I think it’s unfair that he could possibly be living a perfectly normal, happy life without remorse? Of course.) But for me to stop living and resent him forever is only tearing me apart.

There’s a quote: “The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is an attribute of the strong.” Let’s be honest, I never had plans to murder him. But there were times when I sure thought I had it in me. But murder only makes me feel less threatened. It doesn’t bring true closure and in the end, it only hurts more people. Forgiveness fully liberates me from having this define me. It has shaped me, to be sure. I will never be the same person I would have been had I not gone through all of this. But I’ve learned a lot and grown so much from all of this. That’s not to say it isn’t painful almost on a daily, if not hourly, basis. Forgiveness is harder than murder. It takes more strength, more drive, more emotion. It forces me to relive what I went through, to accept that what happened cannot be undone, and to love myself in spite of all of the trauma, and to know that I am worthy of love as well.

I spent almost four years believing that I was at fault for what happened. That I could have screamed louder, said “no” more times, fought him off, etc etc etc. But the truth is that, regardless of whether that would have stopped the abuse or lessened it, I am still not to blame for what happened. But coming out of that mindset was hard… and it led into something equally as difficult to move past: being a victim. I hated being a victim, because I felt labeled and defined. I began to conclude that I would never be able to be close to anyone because I was so afraid of having their trust violated, or of being hurt physically and emotionally.

I had been held captive for so long. I was a prisoner to my rage, a captive to my bitterness, and enslaved by the feeling of being worthless because of what had happened to me. And forgiveness—not murder, not isolation, not fear, not anger—could open the prison doors for me. It’s ironic to me that while I spent four long years wanting this guy to go to prison for what he had done, I had in fact been behind the cell doors myself.

I’ve spent too long being captive to something that caused enough pain to begin with. The grudge I was holding and the bitterness I felt was about power—because victims feel powerless. It was about me saying that I could forgive on my terms, unlike the abuse, which was on his terms. But that’s so contrary to what Jesus demonstrates on the cross, when, as He’s being crucified, He is praying that God would forgive them/us for they/we do not know what they/we are doing. What a beautiful model of perfect forgiveness.

I’m still on the road to fully forgiving the guy and myself. It’s a daily process, and one that will take many years. I’ll probably never hear him say “I’m sorry.” I’ll probably never get to see whether or not he is remorseful in any way. I’ll likely never watch him being led off in handcuffs to jail. And one day, I’ll be okay with that.

I will never forget when my pastor told a story at church about a small group that he and his good friends were in during high school. The guy who led the small group was a pastor and claimed a lot of outlandish things. My pastor found out later that a couple of his friends were being sexually abused by this pastor. He also said that after years of bitterness and rage, he finally forgave the guy and he even said he wanted the guy to go to Heaven.

I’m not going to lie, that’s hard for me to swallow. And I told my pastor that. And he smiled and said that we could talk about it... and that I'd get there too, one day. I am very justice-minded. Laura Jo is forever telling me that my passion is justice. And in some ways, that’s accurate. I like to be justified in what I do; I like for other people to be justified as well. And it was no different with my own story: I needed God to justify to me what happened.

In my mind, God created me and He created the man who would abuse me, knowing full-well that it would happen. So I have spent years wrestling with God about why He didn’t just not create one of us. I was putting God on trial, basically. I was trying to get Him to explain his rationale, to tell me, with all my finite understanding, why He would create both of us and why He would not stop the abuse while it was happening.

Mac, the main character in the book The Shack, (which if you haven’t read, you must!), wrestles with almost an identical set of questions. In fact at one point, Mac says to God: “How are you going to justify what happened?” after his daughter was murdered.

And God says to Mac: “I have not come to justify it. I have come to redeem it.” How much greater is redemption, O Reader, than justification? Justification levels the playing field. Redemption brings it full circle, heals the wounds, and builds a foundation for the future. It also glorifies God.

And so even though it’s hard for me, to this day, to pray for my enemies and bless those who curse me, I try. And when I can’t find love and grace and forgiveness for this man, I pray for God’s love and grace and forgiveness to flow through me.

Forgiveness, Pt. 1

I was inspired recently to write about forgiveness. So this post will contain at least two parts. I have a feeling that this first part is not going to be easy to read, and at first, it may not sound much like forgiveness. It may even make some of you angry. I'm cool with that. Comment if you feel so inclined, but before you get completely enraged at me or at anyone else, let the second part get posted...and maybe even the third part.

David Holthouse, a victim of child sex abuse, was once a man plotting murder, planning revenge. “I arrived at a point in my mind,” he says, “where it seemed to me that murder was entirely rational, justifiable, and even a morally responsible course of action.” That, my friends, is sanity. I should take a moment to clear up that what is right is not necessarily what is sane. What is legally acceptable is not necessarily the same as what is rational. We like to think that morality and legality are both synonymous with rationality and justifiability.

Let’s think for a moment about battered wives. Many of the women serving long-term or life sentences in the prison system were abused by their husbands until one day they couldn’t take it anymore, and whether in self-defense or out of the helpless feeling of being trapped in a dangerous situation, they killed their husbands. That’s rational. That’s almost justifiable in my mind. And it’s certainly sane. Insanity is staying in an abusive situation. Granted, that was not the best example, because for battered women there are safe houses and other programs available, though the women do not always see those as viable options.

But let’s get back to Mr. Holthouse. He was sexually victimized by an eighteen-year-old, when he was just seven. The perpetrator? The son of his (Holthouse’s) parents’ best friends. Holthouse never told a soul. He spent the rest of his childhood avoiding the guy.

Fast forward about twenty five years. He became a journalist and moved all around the country. While he was living in Denver, Colorado, his father called to tell him that the same guy, the one who abused him as a child, was living in Denver too. And he had a wife and kids. And so, quietly, and without leaving a trail, Holthouse began to make plans to have this guy murdered. There would be no motive to link it to him, because no one knew about the abuse. It seemed to be the perfect crime.

But, as fate—or whatever you’d like to call it—would have it, his mother found his childhood journal and figured out what happened. His plan was thwarted. Now, though, Holthouse was forced to confront the man he calls “The Bogey Man” instead of just doing away with him.

Let’s stop right here. It seems to me that when you do something wrong, you ought to feel some guilt, some remorse, some negative emotion as the smallest of consequences for your actions. Perpetrators have a conscience too, right? Why is it that while a victim is racked with guilt, shame and emotional trauma for years on end, the perpetrator goes on to have a family, lead a productive life? Or worse, offend again?

Being a child and being victimized instantly makes the crime unlike any other. Child victims are different from other victims for multiple reasons. First of all, the adults around them do not always believe them, so the child quickly feels isolated. Second, if the case even gets to court, the child is often considered an unreliable witness, prone to mixing up facts or getting easily confused by the cross-examiner. Third, and most importantly, the child will likely never come forward because the perpetrator is in some position of power or authority: a parent, an older relative, a teacher, a coach, etc. The perpetrator’s abuse the trust and authority they hold with the child/teenager, and not only is that ability to trust any other person altered, but there is fear of what sort of “retaliation” could come as a result of telling someone about what happened. There are, as with most other victims, also negative emotions involved, such as guilt, fear, and shame, and often those are so burdensome that the child may feel at fault for what happened and be unable to see the truth and do something about it.

Holthouse often tells other victims of child sex abuse: “Not only do you have the right, but arguably, you have the obligation to exact some form of revenge on the person who sexually assaulted you when you were a kid.” Why? Because you know a predator. Although I still do not condone murder or any other form of revenge, I can certainly sympathize with this. There were many days when I was sure that the only way I could ever move forward with my life was to see the permanent incapacitation of my abuser. I wanted him to suffer. I wanted him to regret what he had done. I wanted him to spend time in jail or feel remorse… Something, anything, to even partially compare to the trauma I had experienced at his hands.

I was sixteen when I was sexually abused for a series of days by a man. Until I had become a victim, I didn’t understand the power of hate. I didn’t understand how passionate rage could drive you to feel so out of control. I didn’t know what it felt like to want deeply to see someone else’s pain come full-force and want to witness their suffering.

Again, I’m not in any way excusing people who kill. But I am also not about to say I haven’t been in a place where I was sure that the only way I could move forward in life was to hurt the person who hurt me. That’s sanity. And sure, what is sane is not actually “right,” but it makes perfect sense if you follow basic human reasoning. The best way to ensure the hurt never happens again is to eliminate the source... the source of so much pain, physically and emotionally in my life, the source that has forever affected who I am and who I will become.

Natalie Grant

I have been the wayward child
I have acted out
I have questioned Sovereignty
And had my share of doubt
And though sometimes my prayers feel like
They're bouncing off the sky
The hand I hold won't let me go
And is the reason why...

[Chorus:]
I will stumble
I will fall down
But I will not be moved
I will make mistakes
I will face heartache
But I will not be moved
On Christ the Solid Rock I stand
All other ground is sinking sand
I will not be moved

Bitterness has plagued my heart
Many times before
My life has been like broken glass
And I have kept the score
Of all my shattered dreams
And though it seemed
That I was far too gone
My brokenness helped me to see
It's grace I'm standing on

[Chorus:]
I will stumble
I will fall down
But I will not be moved
I will make mistakes
I will face heartache
But I will not be moved
On Christ the Solid Rock I stand
All other ground is sinking sand
I will not be moved

And the chaos in my life
Has been a badge I've worn
Though I have been torn
I will not be moved

Surrender

Surrender don’t come natural to me
I’d rather fight You for something I don’t really want
Than take what You give that I need.
And I’ve beat my head against so many walls,
Now I’m falling down. I’m falling on my knees.

I have always struggled with surrender. I don’t want to lose control, even if I know that God being in control is far better than me. It’s like that line in the Casting Crowns song: “Just how close can I get, Lord, to my surrender without losing all control?” I would begin to give God control over small aspects of my life that I felt like were “destined” to go well, but when He would demand control over the more scary things, like my future, or a relationship, I would fight Him for it.
Last Sunday, after Laura Jo and I had hung out, and said goodbye, I was heading back to Raleigh with a heavy heart. I wanted desperately to be in Greensboro because I associate Raleigh with negative emotions, with hurt, etc. I wanted to stay. I didn’t want to go home, and I admitted that aloud. As I was driving home it started to rain. And then I started crying. And then I started praying out loud. I looked up and I heard God ask once more for control. I knew that giving control wouldn’t make everything happy and wouldn’t solve my problems, but it would simplify them. Not because they would become fewer in number but because my desire to “fix” everything and everyone, including myself, would lessen. I relinquished control on I-40 and something has changed this week. I am freer than I ever imagined possible. I think I understand now that verse that says: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”
Somehow I’ve always viewed the idea of giving up control as becoming apathetic. It’s quite the opposite, though. I haven’t stopped caring about the things or people in my life, in fact I care so much about them that I know I must release my desire to control them in order to love them well. When I live under the assumption, or when other people believe, that me being in control is healthy and ultimately good, we’re fooling ourselves.
I also realize now that I was my own false infinite. You know how people are always saying, “He alone is God?” I always think of that in terms of idols, like a golden calf, but I was my own God in a lot of ways, and my own false infinite. Although surrender isn’t natural for me, I truly have traveled down enough other roads and seen the ultimate destruction they lead to. And I know where true life is found.
And the surrender thing? It’s a daily prayer. I didn’t just pray it once on the interstate last Sunday. I pray it daily, because daily I am tempted to take back control over things when they seem hard.
And my guess is that that innate reaction is born out of a lack of trust in God. But that’s a whole other post.

Long overdue...

for not only a blog post, but a reality check. Last night, I was unhappily reminded again of the reality of college life. I'm going to make relationships and inevitably, people are going to move away. I've simply never been okay with this. It's a serious flaw. I get easily and comfortably attached to people and I often find that they leave, with sincere promises to keep in touch, but the reality is that more often than not, I lose a very close friend as distance and time and experience separate us.

I don't know if it's a general inability to handle change, loss and abandonment, or a result of experience, or just a genetic, inherent character flaw, but I deal horribly when people decide to "leave." In fact, I often will unconsciously distance myself emotionally from people if I forsee that they will leave. And my freshman year of college, when I began to form close friendships, (when my intention was to keep my distance so that, at the risk of being lonely, I couldn't be hurt), I would make my friends promise that they wouldn't "leave" until I got to see them again.

So I've been reminded again that the unfortunate reality of college is that people are all in different stages of life-- whether they're just older than I am and graduate and get real jobs sooner, or whether they transfer out, or whether I work with/for them and they find another job somewhere else-- and I will have to choose in the next two years to continue to form relationships and be real with people, even though I may end up feeling hurt when those relationships change or end, through no fault of anyone.

After tears and long conversations last night, I'm feeling at least a little better about people leaving. But with each person, the sadness is reopened and revisited, although I couldn't be happier for these people as they discover passions and pursue dreams; I guess that's part of love too. Being so happy for someone because that's what they want and so sad that you have to say goodbye.

It's How I Know We're Best Friends

Laura Jo and I are sitting in her room-- or the one she's renting for the summer-- the night before her birthday. Nick (her boyfriend of five and a half years) calls her. He apparently asked her what her favorite type of candy is. 

Laura Jo looks at me and says, "Hey, Linds, what's my favorite kind of candy?" It wasn't a joke. She was asking me. 'Cause she knew I'd know, almost better than she would. 

The Shack

I'm currently reading The Shack, by William P. Young. If you haven't read this book, READ IT. I'm not completely finished with it yet, but I can't put it down. Here is what part of the back of the book says: In a world where religion seems to grow increasingly irrelevant, The Shack wrestles with the timeless question, "Where is God in a world filled with unspeakable pain?" The answers [the main character] gets will astound you and perhaps transform you as much as it did him.

Even if you're not in a place where you're struggling with where God is in the middle of the pain we see all around us, you should still read this book. It's not written in a sermon or intellectual-type style. It's a story about one man's struggle to reconnect with God after he has been wounded by unspeakable pain and heartache. It's the story of his encounter and subsequent dialogue with God.

I'm telling you, read this book. You won't regret it. In fact, you'll be recommending it to everyone you know.

So about my story...

One of the things that I've been sort of praying about, as late as today even, and for at least the past few weeks, is that I would be shown how/where to tell my story. 

Well, today one of the elders from our church called my cell phone and said that someone had recommended that I share my story on Sunday at church. He asked if I would be willing to. What could I do, honestly, other than say yes? I didn't think I could have been more sure of what God wanted me to do in that situation. 

I got off the phone, and started realizing the magnitude of what I had just agreed to do. I had agreed to be "messy" in front of a church body, twice (at both services). I had been willing to show my scars to a group of people that I don't know all that well, but that I'd like to know better. I had chosen to be vulnerable in front of people I babysit for, people I serve alongside, etc. What was I thinking? I'm not even sure I can fully articulate on paper or in my heart what God has done in my life, much less make it coherent for three hundred people. 

I turned the ignition in my car, all the while chastising myself for not just declining. And this (no joke) is what I heard when the radio came on: ...It's knowing You and what You've done in me. 

Okay, God. I get it. Thanks for hammering the message home. 

story within the STORY

I've been challenged to think about my story lately. I guess it's also my testimony. And, as it is with everyone's story, mine is constantly evolving into something and the ways I grow and change become a part of it and the ways I see God work become a part of it. I've come to a few realizations, that may not be all that earth-shattering for anyone else... but they are for me. 

My little "s" story is just a part of the greater big "S" story. That does not mean that my story is not important or significant, and it especially should be for me, but it is just a small part of the Story. 

Often we cannot even tell parts of our own story, whether for shame or fear or brokenness, and our closest friends sometimes have to tell us our own stories. I've seen this recently in my life as some of the people closest to me spell out for me what I am currently going through, both because I cannot see the light at the end and because I cannot fully grasp from the inside what is happening to me. This is a crucial part of Christian community. It is also important to be reminded that our individual stories are just parts of the great and good Story. 

God calls us to own our stories and to embrace who we are and what we've been through. Jacob, in the OT, is a great example. He first tricks his father into giving him the birthright, by pretending to be his brother Esau. Then, years later, he wrestles with something that is often portrayed to be like an angel. (Okay, serious paraphrasing is about to happen...) The angel says to Jacob, "Let me go." And Jacob says, "First, bless me." And the angel says, "Who are you?" And Jacob says, "I am Jacob." Jacob has owned up to the sins he committed when he tricked his father, and has embraced who he is--- an imperfect, deceitful person. And God makes Jacob into someone new: Israel, the father of many nations. I can hear God saying something like: "Are you finally ready to be you? Good. We've got a lot of work to do." When we embrace who God made us to be, He can begin to use us fully for what He created us for. 

There's a second part to the whole "own your story," thing. I've realized that I have only told my entire story once in my life: to my current pastor. I've realized something else: regardless of what part of my story I tell or who I tell it to, I talk about it like I'm reading a text book of information. There is no emotion connected to what I've been through and who I am. That's not owning my story or my emotion. Removing myself emotionally from all that's happened doesn't make it okay and it doesn't allow me to truly embrace who I am. 

Freedom

I've realized after moving home for the summer that I don't live in the freedom offered by Christ. I allow myself to get mangled in the traps of worldliness; I care far too much what everyone around me thinks; I take people's criticism, tirades and screaming far too seriously; and I beat myself up for stupid things. 

There is freedom in the grace of Jesus Christ, an offering that I am called to live under. And until I can live in the knowledge that who I am depends not on my mistakes and failings, nor on the way other people see me, but on who I am in Christ. 

I heard these song lyrics the other day: 

I'm the one with big mistakes,

Big regrets, and bigger breaks

Than I'd ever care to confess.

Oh, but You're the one who looks at me

And sees what I was meant to be,

More than just a beautiful mess.

The more I try desperately to find satisfaction in the things the world can offer, the more I find disappointment. And the more evident the void in my heart becomes evident. The more I try to fill myself up with the emptiness around me, the more I am frustrated, and the farther I feel from God. 

I feel like this all stems from the fact that I don't understand the character of God nor the concept of perfect grace enough to live in the freedom He so willingly gives. 

I truly feel like I am living a life of quiet desperation as I try to earn the approval of those around me, and please everyone, and be everything. And I think now's the time to stop. And let God be my focal point, instead. (You'd think I'd have figured all of this out once... about eight years ago)

Worship

On Sunday, I was at church, and during musical worship, I was singing and this lady that I don't know, though I recognize her face, came up behind me, and hugged me (awkward #1) and then said, "I just love watching you worship. It's beautiful." Call me self-conscious. Call me radically self-consumed. Call me neurotic. I'm probably all of those things, but suddenly worship felt different to me. I've never felt like people watched me worship... there's a difference (to me, at least) between people seeing me worship and people watching me worship. 

So I've spent the past few days trying to take her comment as a means of encouragement, not as something to make me that much more neurotic. I've been praying about how worship for me can still be only about me and God and not about the hundred or so people around me. It's hard.  

Max

So, when mom moved in with Jennie when I was eight and a half or so, I was afraid (and I'm talking terrified, won't go anywhere near...) dogs. And Jennie had two-- an English setter, which is a medium sized dog, named Finney and a Yorkie (a small, yappy dog) named Max. Max and I quickly became inseparable. He followed me around, slept in my bed, lay with me while I did homework, etc. 

I loved Max... he was small and he couldn't jump up on me. By the time we moved out when I was fifteen, Max was what I finally understood to be my "childhood dog." All my friends talked about their childhood pets, pets that had endured their many life stages with them. Max had seen me off to prom my freshman year of high school, had licked away my tears (sorry if that grosses you out), had been a faithful companion who never chose anyone over me, so when we moved out, it was especially hard because Max, who was originally Jennie's dog, stayed with Jennie. Granted, I now have three dogs that live at my mom's house, but I always go visit Max. 

We put Max to sleep today. I've dealt with the deaths of three cats and a hamster, but it is both helpful and heartbreaking to make a conscious choice that the animal's suffering is just too much. I've never put an animal to sleep before, and today was really hard and strangel

y comforting too-- because I knew that Max had been a wonderful pet and friend, but that I didn't want to remember him in the condition he is in. The final decision to put him down was made while I was in Greensboro this afternoon, and the time frame wasn't going to make it possible for  me to be there. Granted, that made my decision about whether or not I wanted to be present an easy one-- in that 

it was made for me. And I am still getting through the emotions of not having said goodbye or having been truly given the option to. 

Sorry if this post was more sad than anything. I promise to have something of substance or something uplifting next time. 

"Don't pray for an easy life. Pray to be a strong person." -Unknown 

Daisy

Daisy is the new addition to our house. She has been living with us for about 3 months or so. There's also Riley, our black lab and Jenna, our golden retriever, and Hope, our cat. Daisy is hyper and a mix of a million breeds. I've heard everything from german shepherd to pit bull to yellow/white lab to chihuahua to chow-chow. Whatever. 

Anyway, I discovered something the other day: Daisy is AFRAID (yes, fearful) of nothing in the world, except the WORD: Alpha. No matter what tone of voice you say this word in, she cowers, and crawls away, and sort of hides. It's sad really because we can't figure out what makes her do that. 

This ought to entertain you: I tried out the rest of the Greek alphabet on her tonight, and she can stand any other Greek letter (e.g. chi, omega, delta, zeta, beta, gamma, pi, phi, mu, sigma, epsilon, omicron, kappa, lambda, etc etc etc) but after all the other letters rattled off, she still cowers at Alpha... Yes, friends, I did in fact recite the Greek alphabet for my dog, mixing up the letters so Alpha came at random times... Oh well. 

And yes, I am very aware of the fact that her ears are not the least bit proportional to her head/body. She's kind of self conscious about it, really. 

Taking Care of Business...

I started my summer internship at the North Carolina Department of Public Instruction yesterday. Let me tell you how I feel about my job:

Top 10 things I love about my job:

10. It involves task-oriented work... there are goals to be achieved. I like that.

9. It allows me to be a perfectionist and an organization freak... this is good-- I can be myself.

8. I get to go to the legislature and see how the state government works...

7. NETWORKING... I've met everyone from the state superintendent to the gubernatorial candidate

6. I am the only intern still in undergrad, which makes me pretty special

5. People care about what I think-- they ask my opinion about bills being sent through the legislature and whether or not DPI should support them

4. I get an ID tag on a lanyard that allows me access to the buildings

3. My office is in a cube maze... and those are super fun 

2. My office is not a cubical, though. In fact, my office is: a) big enough to hold meetings in; b) all my own; and c) bigger than my dorm room (is that sad?)

1. I get to wear cute skirts and suits to work every day... and though my girly-side rarely shows itself, I've (for the past two days at least) enjoyed looking cute and professional at the same time. 

My office is a mess of red file folders, each folder is a different case of a teacher doing something they're not allowed to do in the classroom and any accompanying documents like hearing materials, evidence, news stories, etc. It's disheartening to think there are so many teachers like that in the state, but it's also encouraging that people spend their time trying to rectify these situations... whether that's license revocation or something else. It's good work. 

Holiness

"We cannot grasp the true meaning of the divine holiness by thinking of someone or something very pure and then raising the concept to the highest degree we are capable of. God's holiness is not simply the best we know infinitely bettered. We know nothing like divine holiness. It stands apart, unique, unapproachable, incomprehensible and unattainable... Holy is the way God is. To be holy He does not conform to a standard. He is that standard." -A.W. Tozer, The Knowledge of the Holy 

I've been thinking about holiness of late. I guess I've always thought of it as some characteristic of God that inevitably and rightfully separated me from God. I imagined this chasm between the Creator of the Universe and me. I felt like I couldn't be very intimate with God because He was so holy, and I was so... not. 

But as I started studying holiness and reading about how people in the Bible acted when they encountered God's holiness, my perspective changed. No one ever sees God's holiness and walks away the same. 

Take Isaiah (the prophet and the OT book). In Chapter 6, he encounters God and is immediately undone, crying "Woe to me! I am ruined. For I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips, and my eyes have seen the King, the Lord Almighty." Even being in God's presence undoes Isaiah. He's freaking out. Once he is cleansed by the seraph, though, he doesn't just walk away, but he also doesn't just sit and bask in God's holiness. He responds to the encounter. My (very limited, mind you) understanding of holiness seems to be that holiness necessitates, if not demands, a response. Isaiah willingly offers to be sent by God after his encounter with God's holiness. Moses reacts in much the same way. 

Holiness is less about creating a massive gap between God and me, and more about me acknowledging (as Isaiah did, e.g.) the extent of God's holiness and just how short I fall of that standard, and then responding to His holiness with a willingness to be used. 

Sugar-coated Platitudes

Christians drive me nuts sometimes. (Wow, I never thought I would start a blog post off that way... haha) But really, it has started to make me down-right angry when people try to curb my emotions regarding a situation with phrases like "Don't worry, God will take care of it" or "Just pray about it." Okay, don't get me wrong, I do believe in the power and importance of prayer. And I also believe that in the midst of the struggles of life, we can cling to the promise that God is good and that He will work all things for the good of those who believe in Him. In fact, a few of my friends and I have a saying that we toss back and forth: "God's not off His throne," to remind ourselves that God is constantly in control. Those disclaimers having been set forth, it irks me to no end that people want to just sugar-coat or tie up with a bow my (and other people's) problems.
Emotion is a God-given gift. And I think it's so important to validate people's feelings in situations, because it helps them feel understood and ... well... (for lack of a new and different word) validated.
Recently, I've been going through something that's thrown me for a loop, to be cliche and put it gently. I'm frustrated, I'm confused, I'm scared (I'm using commas instead of periods or semi-colons), and I'm angry. Someone asked me the other day how God and I were doing in all of this... mess... so to speak. My response was: "There's a country artist that put it best: I can't seem to talk to God without yelling anymore." This person was taken aback that I would even dream of yelling at God. Here's the thing, if God's not big enough to handle my emotion in the midst of a really trying time, He's not a very big God.
This person just kept telling me that it was all going to be okay. And that I shouldn't worry. Here's the thing. One, I'm worried. Too bad. And two, yes, it will be okay, but the only time we can be certain it will be okay is when we get to Heaven. There aren't guarantees of anything being "okay" on earth.
Okay, once again, don't get me wrong. I know that people mean well, and are probably trying to encourage me, but what I guess what I feel would be more appropriate is love and validation, understand that me feeling like I need to yell at God because I'm angry doesn't make me a heathen, a bad Christian, or even all that far from normal. I'm pretty sure that makes me human-- someone struggling with the messiness of the world. Rather than offering trite solutions to my problems or tsk-ing because I'm frustrated with God and the situation, maybe love me, meet me where I am, and try to understand what I'm feeling. I can quote the Bible just as well as anyone else, and I can offer up scripture for many situations, but sometimes I think people just want to be listened, not told that they shouldn't feel that way or that if they had more faith they would feel differently.

Okay. Rant's over.

A World of Love

"If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world." - C.S.Lewis

Greg talked today about LOVE. This wasn't a big surprise, since the sermon series right now is on 1 Corinthians 13. It was a really good sermon. He talked a lot about unconditional love, and how it's odd that we desire, crave, long for, and need it since we've never experienced it here on earth. Why, then, do we want so badly to find it? Because, he said, God hard-wired our DNA to crave unconditional love. We're like beached whales, he explained, because we were made to be surrounded constantly with unconditional love, like whales are made to swim in water. But, when whales are beached, and as we often find ourselves here on earth, we continue to make the same motions we do when we're in "water," but it just looks awkward and it ends up leading to our demise instead. That's the way I feel a lot, like there is something I will never fully attain here on earth and I'm just waiting for the day that it is fully realized, like Paul talks about.
Greg talked about how we often look for other things-- be they relationships, work, success, money, looks, etc-- to fill the void we feel because we long for unconditional love. He said it's like being in an airplane and seeing the pretty, fluffy clouds and jumping out of the airplane to see if the clouds are heavenly trampolines. They're not. They're just water vapor and we'll fall right through. That's the way it is when we try to fulfill the needs we have with earthly things, with "false infinites." They're unsatisfying, in the end. But there is hope in the promise of Heaven, and the goodness of God.

I also really liked (and this is a sidenote), Greg's explanation for the verse that says, "And these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love." I've always wondered what about love made it greater than the other two, and Greg explained that faith and hope are things that we only need for our temporary time here on earth. We won't need faith when we're face to face with Jesus and we won't need hope because all of the perfection of God and the beauty of eternity will be laid out before us. But love, we will be drowning in love. A perfect love. Jonathan Edwards, Great Awakening author of "Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God," wrote that "Heaven is a world of love." Simply put. Wow.

"All the suffering in the world is as one bad night in a hotel from the perspective of heaven."

All I Can Say

Lord I'm tired
So tired from walking
And Lord I'm so alone
And Lord the dark
Is creeping in
Creeping up
To swallow me
I think I'll stop
Rest here a while

And didn't You see me cry'n?
And didn't You hear me call Your name?
Wasn't it You I gave my heart to?
I wish You'd remember
Where you sat it down

And this is all that I can say right now
And this is all that I can give

I didn't notice You were standing here
I didn't know that
That was You holding me
I didn't notice You were cry'n too
I didn't know that
That was You washing my feet

-David Crowder Band, "All I Can Say"

If

Laura Jo's dad sent me a book of 101 famous poems, mostly because there was one poem that I absolutely loved in the book. I'm going to share it with you, because right now I'm feeling empty and without anything to say.

If

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies
Or being hated, don't give way to hating
And yet don't look too good, nor talk to wise

If you can dream-- and not make dreams your master
If you can think-- and not make thoughts your aim
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same

If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on."

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue
Or walk with kings-- nor lose the common touch
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you
If all men count with you, but none too much

If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it
And-- what is more-- you'll be a man, my son.

-Rudyard Kipling

Coffee

I wasn't going to write about this, but it's weighing too much on my heart not to. I'm struggling being in Intervarsity right now. I feel like I have to be this upstanding, amazing Christian in order to be considered "okay." I don't know exactly how to explain this.

About a month ago, I went to Greene Street, a club. I didn't drink and I don't plan to before I am twenty-one. I didn't do anything that I ought to feel guilty about, but people in IV have let me know how "displeased" they are that I was even there in the first place... I get that I'm not suppoesd to be "of this world," but it's not the same thing.

We talked in our small group about coffee (I promise this relates) the other day, about how if someone's never tried coffee before and you invite them to try it, you'll either give them an iced coffee or some hot rich blend. You don't give them lukewarm, room temperature coffee. Right? Right. We all know that iced coffee is good. Hot coffee is good, but the stuff in the middle is terrible, and we don't wnat someone to be completely turned off to coffee just because of one bad experience, so we want their first experience to be good. It's the same way with Christianity, we discussed. We need to be passionate about what we believe, because the completely worldly side looks pretty good too. It's the people in the middle, who call themselves Christians but hurt others so deeply that turn people off to it. The hypocrites, the liars, etc who say they are Christians make it difficult for people to give Christianity a second thought.

But, I argued, because the whole issue with IV is still fresh in my mind, we can't be scalding hot. We'll just burn people that way. We have to admit that we are weak, sinful and self-consumed. We have to admit we are broken, and in need of a savior. I think that's my frustration. That people around me talk to me, and probably to people not in IV, like they have it together, and don't commit "big sins."

Let me give one more example, and then I can be done. My friend (non-Christian) has been asking me questions about God and earnestly seeking answers. Then she made a bad decision with some serious consequences. And you know what? In both instances she talked to me. And I started thinking while she was talking to me about the choice she made... if I had made the same type of mistake with the same types of reprocussions, who would I turn to? And I wasn't sure if it would be a Christian or not... and that made me deeply sad.

Yes, we need to be passionate about God and our faith and stand firm in what we believe. BUT we cannot make our lives a long list of rules and regulations because we think that makes us a good person--- because we're all hypocrites if we believe that... the ones who think they're healthy don't ever go see the doctor. I want to be hot coffee, but not hot enough to burn the people around me.

Passion...

Do the one thing you think you cannot do. Fail at it. Try again. Do better the second time. The only people who never tumble are those who never mount the high wire. This is your moment. Own it.

The one thing I have felt a longing for, this year especially, is to be so deeply passionate about something. I want a purpose, a drive, a calling, a sense of why I am alive. I want to be thoroughly excited about something... I feel like for a lot of people it's whatever lifestyle they choose. A lot of people are passionate about their jobs, their families, their mission field, etc... Some days I think I'm passionate about social work, about "working myself out of a job," but other days, I don't know exactly why I am getting a degree in social work.

My small group had a discussion last week at the end of our time about the three things we were passionate about. I didn't have three. In fact, I didn't have one at first...

Laura Jo says my passion is justice. That I have this sense of wanting people to be loved and well-cared for. That I want to see "on earth as it is in heaven" more of a reality... I don't know though. Sometimes I mix up justice and idealism, I confuse reality with false hope. I'm frustrated because I want my heart to be on fire for something in the Kingdom... I don't want to just sail through these days...

Upheaval and unease

I feel like my life is in upheaval right now. Every thing seems to be changing at a rate I cannot keep up with, heading in an unexpected, and sometimes terribly wrong, direction in an out-of-control-feeling way... I told Laura Jo this and she said, "But really, Linds, it isn't." I didn't so much like that answer... but I realized that she wasn't trying to invalidate my feelings, as I initially thought, so much as trying to comfort me and remind me of the reality of the situation(s).

"The Lord is my chosen portion and my cup; you hold my lot.
The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
indeed I have a beautiful inheritance.
I bless the Lord who gives me counsel;
in the night also my heart instructs me.
I have set the Lord always before me;
because he is at my right hand, I shall not be shaken.
Therefore my heart is glad, and my whole being rejoices;
my flesh also dwells secure.
For you will not abandon my soul to Sheol,
or let your holy one see corruption.
You make known to me the path of life;
in your presence there is fullness of joy;
At your right hand are pleasures forevermore."
-Psalm 16:5-11

I like the phrases "secure," "not be shaken," "not abandon," "beautiful inheritance." THIS is the reality, and even though my feelings are valid, God's not off his throne, He hasn't and won't abandon me, and His plan is divine and perfect... so upheaval can only be at most, temporary and earthly. That may not be any great revelation for you, O Reader, but it was for me.

All the Heavens

As Your children gather in peace
All the angels sing in Heaven
In Your temple all that I seek
Is to glimpse Your holy presence

All the heavens could not hold You, Lord
How much less to dwell in me?
I can only make my one desire
Holding on to Thee

All the angels exalt You on high
What a kingdom to depart!
But You left Your throne in the sky
Just to live inside my heart

All the heavens could not hold You, Lord
How much less to dwell in me?
I can only make my one desire
Holding on to Thee

I will always make my one desire
Holding on to Thee

"All the Heavens" by Third Day

Sweet Poison of the False Infinite

"In either case-- whether we try to secure means for repeating the pleasure at will or turn from what is given to something else which is desired-- Lewis thinks that we will eventually lose the capacity for delighting in what is received. For to treat a created thing as something more than that is to destroy its true character. To seek in any created thing a complete fulfillment of the longing which moves us to make of it an object of infinite desire and, because it is only a created thing, a false infinite. It may still be sweet, at least for a time, because it is intended by its Giver to be a source of delight. But in the end it will be poison for the person who gives his heart to it. Hence the constant temptation: the lure of the sweet poison of the false infinite. [There is a] contrast between living by faith and seeking a rigid kind of security. This sort of trust involves a willingness to receive what is given (even if it was not originally desired) as well as a willingness to let it go again without grasping after repitition of the pleasure."
-The Taste for the Other: The Social and Ethical Thought of C.S. Lewis, by Gilbert Meilaender

It's March, People...

Today, I was driving in my car and the sky was really, really, really, really dark grey. The word ominous came to mind. I was so sure that the bottom of the sky would fall out with torrential rains, and lots of thunder and lightning-- my favorite kind of storm-- but you know what? It didn't. It snowed instead.

I just thought that was funny.

Weirdness unveiled...

I've been tagged. (I kinda think this game is slightly ridiculous, but I guess I will succumb to the pressure and do it anyways...) I have to put 7 weird things about me. Here goes...

1) I have a HUGE (and I mean gigantic!) obsession with going to men's section department stores and basking in the beauty of...(drum roll please)... folded polo shirts stacked (neatly, of course) according to color. It makes me deeply satisfied for some weird reason. If they are slightly out-of-whack, I WILL fix them. In fact, Laura Jo has become accustomed to this obsession and subsequent need to rearrange them that she stops at the shelves and waits patiently for me to do what must be done.

2) I have a teddy bear named Brownie that I've had since I was born. I also have a mint-condition bear EXACTLY like him (minus 20 years of love and general wear-and-tear) that we found randomly at the PTA thrift store for $1. His name is Brownie 2 (for lack of a better name).

3) I don't like roller coasters. I never have. It's not the going down part, it's the going up part... and that stupid psychology term: availability heuristic, where people base their prediction of the frequency of an event or the proportion within a population based on how easily an example can be brought to mind. The only time I see a roller coaster on the news is when it's either crashed, gotten stuck or injured someone. No good.

4) I eat my pizza backwards. First, I eat the crust, then I turn it back around and eat from the tip to the larger end.

5) I am hopelessly afraid of three things: fire, car wrecks and falling down stairs.

6) I don't like movies where the animals are sad or hurt. Old Yeller is out, always, so is Benji, Bambi, Fox and the Hound, etc. I don't even like Homeward Bound just because Sassy falls down the waterfall, Chance goes to the pound, and Shadow falls in the hole. I don't even like the part in Aladdin when Jasmine scales the wall to escape the smothered life she lives in the palace and leaves Raja the tiger behind. Raja is so sad.

7) I don't like people to touch my neck. It's a weird quirk, but I really have issues with people touching my neck. Even if they are just gesturing like they're going to, I might freak out. Hug me. Fine. But don't touch my neck.

I tag: Emily J and KVP.

A Divided Heart

"Their heart is divided, now they shall be found faulty." -Hosea 10:2

Lately, I just feel like my heart is divided, like I am trying to balance two different things. I don't know what is wrong with me.

Sorry I don't have anything more interesting to write about tonight.

Prayer

The great people of this earth today are the people who pray. I do not mean those who talk about prayer, nor those who can explain about prayer. I mean those people who take time out and pray. They have not time; time must be taken from something else. This something else is important, very important and pressing, but still less important and less pressing than prayer. -S.D. Gordon

Unexpectedly, I've seen God start to show me more about prayer. It was something that I've been consciously seeking, but it was something that I'm amazed by and excited about. There are a couple main ways that have really encouraged me. The first is leadership meetings. The way we are able to be vulnerable and pray for each other is really exciting, as our team continues to bond and grow together. I love it.
Today, after the second service of church (though I'm still not sure why I stayed all the way through since I stayed for first service and could have easily left after the announcements portion of second service), I had this urge to go talk to Greg. I didn't know what I was going to say but I went up, he hugged me and then asked how I was. All of the sudden there were words coming out of my mouth, as I heard myself say: "Could you pray with me before we leave today?" I don't do that. I'm not bold and I don't request random things of people that I'm not super-close to, or that I am unsure of how they will respond. And he was really excited about it. He asked if it would be okay if he let another woman, someone I don't know, pray with us. I didn't know what to say. But apparently there was a physiological response because Greg said, "From the way your body just tensed up, I'm guessing you're not comfortable with that yet. That's fine, we'll pray just the two of us." So after everyone left, we sat down and talked and prayed and talked and prayed. He has asked this other lady to sit quietly in the back of the sanctuary and pray for us while we prayed. She heard a lot of what I said and what Greg said and afterward, came up and talked with me, and said that she just wanted me to know that whatever she heard she took straight to the Lord. I was so comforted that that was her response and that this woman who didn't even know me would pray for me.
Then tonight, after leadership meeting, Nicole and I walked back to Phillips-Hawkins from across campus, and we took the long way. Why? Because we were doing a prayer walk. We prayed for many different things and it was such an encouragement to walk with her and pray for Intervarsity, for leadership team, for our campus, for our nation, our world and individuals by name.
And earlier this week I had a phone-date with Karen and we talked for over an hour, and at the end of it, I was driving somewhere, and she asked over the phone if she could pray for me. I said that she could and then I put her on speaker phone, laid the phone down and just drove while she prayed. It was a really different form of prayer, but it was just another way of God reminding me that even people I don't see on a regular basis are praying for me and the power of prayer stretches beyond what we can imagine.

"Pray continually and give thanks in all circumstances..."

Meet Daisy

the newest addition to our household... DAISY

Running On Empty

Sammie Jo suggested I read a book called Running on Empty: Contemplative Spirituality for Overachievers. I love it. And it doesn't matter if you label yourself an overachiever or not, if you find yourself always busy, always running on the hamster wheel, always trying to do enough, be enough, become enough, etc... then this book is for you. It is wonderful.

"The crazy truth is that as much as we complain about it, we actually want to be seduced by busyness. But why do we love the killer? In part, it's because when we're busy, we don't have to think about important matters we prefer to avoid. Busyness enables us to quiet the voice of the deeper issues that trouble and haunt us. Plus busyness makes us feel important."

We love being in demand. I realize when I look at my daytimer, which is the one thing that ensures I stay organized and on top of my game, I frequently am concerned with the volume of activity that fills my days. My daytimer has three different types of calendars: months at a glance, where each day is listed with a line next to it, so you can write major events, a month spread where there are blocks you can add a few major things to, and then a day-by-day that breaks my days down into 15 minute increments. My friends have started realizing that if they want my time, they have to get scheduled in. That makes me really sad. It makes me sad that, as was the case last night, I couldn't fall asleep until after 4am, not because I had slept in or taken a nap or had an easy day... quite the contrary. I had had meetings, classes, or activities from 9am until 9pm, and then we had a massive "crisis" in the building with a fire alarm, smoke, and a forced relocation of students for a half hour to another building. I had run myself ragged sure, but my mind still had a hundred things to mull over before I could fall asleep.

"For what will it profit them if they gain the whole world but forfeit their life?" -Matt. 16:26

I saw this All State commercial the other day, where they had people eating dinner or something in the middle of a highway. And the voice over said "Let's start treating people like they are in our homes, not in our way." It was talking about driving, but I realize that that is, sadly, my mindset a lot: that I have a hundred things to get done, and unless you're scheduled into my daytimer, I've got other things on my mind. My prayer recently has been that I would slow down and be blessed by the things that I see as in my way, that I would believe that God's love for and acceptance of me are not things I can earn, and that my worth and value are found in Him and not in what I can accomplish by adhering to a strict schedule and being productive.

"If I had set out to destroy my identity as a beloved child of God, I couldn't have done better than living in America at the start of the twenty-first century. The greatest threats I've encountered are not the arguments of skeptics or the lure of drink, drugs, or sex. The greatest threats are the constant busyness adn frantic hurry that demand my allegiance."

Messiness

I gave a small part of my testimony Thursday at InterVarsity. We have this thing each week at our chapter meeting called "Word From The Heard." Basically, one person in our group gets up and talks about something that God's been teaching them or shares something with the rest of the chapter. I've never done it before, but recently, I've really felt God lay it on my heart to speak.

Let me back up. I'm often saying that I wish people in InterVarsity were more "real" with each other; I have felt like we're really safe, as a whole, especially recently, and I desired for that to change.

So, what God's been teaching me recently is how to love who He created me to be, in all my messiness, struggles, emotions, etc. That's hard to learn, in fact He's clearly been trying to teach me this for a while. I wrote a poem in the last year called "Shattered but Satisfied" about the struggle to embrace your brokenness and grow and learn to love who you are, rather than putting on a facade and pretending to be someone you're not. I'm very guilty of pretending to have it together because I think everyone else has it together, so I need to too.

Anyway, I got up at IV and said that God had been teaching me that messiness is beautiful, that we are broken and that although we need His healing, His grace, His love, we also need to realize that our goal ought not to be to walk around pretending we've got it all figured out, but rather our goal ought to be to get comfortable enough with ourselves that we can wade into each other's messiness. That's the beauty of God's love flowing through us: we get to love others and jump down into the hole that they've fallen into-- not because we have the answers, but because we've been down there before. As Greg puts it, "I'm just a beggar showing another beggar where to find the food."

So, I got real. I shared very blatantly some of the messiness I've experienced and am still dealing with.

Would it set me free,
If I dared to let you see
The truth behind the person
That you imagine me to be?
Would your arms be open?
Or would you walk away?
Would the love of Jesus
Be enough to make you stay?

It was a really big leap, especially for me. I wanted people to see that I'm not the person I often appear to be-- I have some deep hurt in my life and some serious struggles. But that's beautiful. And the fact that there are people in my life already who are wading into that with me is a testiment to God''s love in them and the power of Christian community. But it was a big risk. It wasn't safe, so to speak.

But regardless, I felt freer than ever and I have continued to feel free-- free to not have it together, to not be super-human all the time.