May 2007 I decided to follow Michael W. Smith and "go west" (yes, I just made a 90's Christian music reference). Sight unseen, my mom and I packed up my Jetta and drove 3 days across the country for an adventure that I never could have written myself.
One of my friends tells me that my move 3 time zones from everything I'd ever known was a huge step of faith. I'm not sure how much faith it took as much as God opened this door and closed all others. In one day, I had gotten an email in Ohio at college that I gotten the internship I had applied for while my mom, in upstate New York, talked with my high school basketball coach who "happened" to have a sister with a home she was willing to share with a random college student for 3 months. The door couldn't have been more open.
At the end of 3 months, the idea of staying so far from everything had become easier, but I was still dating a boy who was on the East Coast and didn't want to outstay my welcome with my generous hosts. In a week, my part-time radio job became full time, I found a place I could live on what I was making and the boy I was dating and I broke up. Again... couldn't have been more clear. This was the place.
Paul calls God "Him who is able to do immeasurably more than we could ever ask or imagine" (Ephesians 3.20). The last five and half years have not been smooth sailing. I've made some downright terrible choices that I wish I could do over. But instead of a magical time machine, God has given me an incredible chance to learn from those mistakes and be used through them.
So here at the end of the year, I think of the monologue that Samwise Gamgee tells Frodo in the Lord of the Rings... that the great ones... the people we tell stories about... they had plenty of chances to turn back. But they didn't. They took risks and did things that didn't make sense. I don't want to live a life that ends just "fine"... instead, I want to take opportunities, even if they aren't what I had planned, that are once-in-a-lifetime-doesn't-feel-real kind of chances.
2013 will start with big... scary... and unbelievable changes.
I've been through doors like this before.
And I wouldn't change a thing.
12.31.2012
12.14.2012
broken.
This has been a tragic week. Reports of two senseless acts of violence that left multiple people dead, families without loved ones and countless people confused and searching for the answer to the question, "why?"
Portland faced a shooting at the Clackamas Town Center that took the lives of two people and the gunman and left a city in confusion. Today in Connecticut, possibly up to 20 kids lost their lives at an elementary school when a man opened fired there with what one report said must have been "hundreds of rounds."
The New York Times coverage described the kids outside as the situation was being handled as "visibly upset." They win for understatement of the year.
Christmas is when we celebrate Emmanuel - God with us. A child came to the world in a story we've all heard in church or at least in the Charlie Brown Christmas Special. People - then and now - were and are searching for a Savior to rescue us from a lost and broken world.
And He has come.
But it's not the way we imagine. It wasn't what Israel was hoping for in their Messiah either. He didn't come and conquer the terrorizing reign of the Romans. And He doesn't come today in a blaze of glory, keeping every bad thing from ever happening even though we wish He would.
He came as a child. Grew up a carpenter and died on a cross where we now decide whether to believe that He is who He said He is. We put our faith in Him - not as Superman who rushes in to save the day when things go wrong, but as a doctor who has ultimately saved us from the disease of sin.
So today, we mourn. We are confused. And we hurt for families that we may have never met.
But at the end of it, we still trust that God is still who He says He is - Creator and Savior of the world. He's big enough for our questions, our doubts, our arguments and, today, our confusion and hurt.
Portland faced a shooting at the Clackamas Town Center that took the lives of two people and the gunman and left a city in confusion. Today in Connecticut, possibly up to 20 kids lost their lives at an elementary school when a man opened fired there with what one report said must have been "hundreds of rounds."
The New York Times coverage described the kids outside as the situation was being handled as "visibly upset." They win for understatement of the year.
Christmas is when we celebrate Emmanuel - God with us. A child came to the world in a story we've all heard in church or at least in the Charlie Brown Christmas Special. People - then and now - were and are searching for a Savior to rescue us from a lost and broken world.
And He has come.
But it's not the way we imagine. It wasn't what Israel was hoping for in their Messiah either. He didn't come and conquer the terrorizing reign of the Romans. And He doesn't come today in a blaze of glory, keeping every bad thing from ever happening even though we wish He would.
He came as a child. Grew up a carpenter and died on a cross where we now decide whether to believe that He is who He said He is. We put our faith in Him - not as Superman who rushes in to save the day when things go wrong, but as a doctor who has ultimately saved us from the disease of sin.
So today, we mourn. We are confused. And we hurt for families that we may have never met.
But at the end of it, we still trust that God is still who He says He is - Creator and Savior of the world. He's big enough for our questions, our doubts, our arguments and, today, our confusion and hurt.
12.12.2012
gift.
I grew up a luckier kid than you. Sorry. It's just true.
Here's why. I got 2 birthdays.
Well. Sort of.
Today is my airplane day. I was adopted from South Korea and today, 26 years ago, my parents drove to New York City and picked up their Christmas gift for the year.
(It was me... in case you hadn't picked up on that yet.)
Every year, I look back, grateful for my parents and for the life that I know is a complete and total blessing. I can't help but look at what I have, where I am and who I've become and realize that God has had a hand in all of it, from the very beginning.
Because I could have grown up in another country...
... with a different family
... with a different religion
... and never met you.
I think this adoption thing has always given me perspective on how God orchestrates even just one small Korean kid's life. He's been taking care of me from the beginning, before I even had a concept of God.
So today, I'm grateful for my parents - who took a huge risk with their hearts to bring this Korean kid into their family, my sister - who was so excited to get a little sister and has been worried about me ever since, my family - who never treated me like anything but a part of things, and my friends - who are a gift to get to do life with.
Today's a gift.
And if God cared about a 3 month old Asian kid... He cares about you. You matter.
Here's why. I got 2 birthdays.
Well. Sort of.
Today is my airplane day. I was adopted from South Korea and today, 26 years ago, my parents drove to New York City and picked up their Christmas gift for the year.
(It was me... in case you hadn't picked up on that yet.)
Every year, I look back, grateful for my parents and for the life that I know is a complete and total blessing. I can't help but look at what I have, where I am and who I've become and realize that God has had a hand in all of it, from the very beginning.
Because I could have grown up in another country...
... with a different family
... with a different religion
... and never met you.
I think this adoption thing has always given me perspective on how God orchestrates even just one small Korean kid's life. He's been taking care of me from the beginning, before I even had a concept of God.
So today, I'm grateful for my parents - who took a huge risk with their hearts to bring this Korean kid into their family, my sister - who was so excited to get a little sister and has been worried about me ever since, my family - who never treated me like anything but a part of things, and my friends - who are a gift to get to do life with.
Today's a gift.
And if God cared about a 3 month old Asian kid... He cares about you. You matter.
11.05.2012
held.
I hated thunderstorms growing up... and by hate, I mean, I was terrified by. I blame the fact that lightning struck the building of the school I was in - not once, but twice - and set off the fire alarm. Come on.. I was 8. You were scared of weird things when you were 8 too.
Thunderstorms often meant that my dad, who worked for the local electric and gas company, had to go out and help restore power. He went to this magical land known as the "substation" at all hours of the night in the middle of worst storms. Meanwhile, my mom would come sit with me in my bed because I couldn't fall asleep on my own on nights like that.
This weekend, one of my students was in a semi-grumpy mood for no reason. She was whiny and tired and just not her normal self. I put my arm around her during our church service and she leaned her head on my shoulder and cried.
She's got a lot of reasons to cry.
She currently doesn't know where her mom is.
Her mom, who had to take the kids and run from the father of the kids because he was so violent.
So she hasn't seen her dad since she was 5 or 6.
I should also mention, her mom was a drug abuser for the entirety of the time that my student can remember.
Oh right.. also, she's 12.
When she was a younger, no one just hugged her and told her they loved her.
When she was in a bad mood and just wanted someone to hold her, no one did.
When she was scared, she toughed it out with no one to sit in bed with her until she fell asleep.
So I held her, fighting back tears because I'm 26 and feel like I can't really do anything to help her.
Because sometimes... life isn't fair.
Thunderstorms often meant that my dad, who worked for the local electric and gas company, had to go out and help restore power. He went to this magical land known as the "substation" at all hours of the night in the middle of worst storms. Meanwhile, my mom would come sit with me in my bed because I couldn't fall asleep on my own on nights like that.
This weekend, one of my students was in a semi-grumpy mood for no reason. She was whiny and tired and just not her normal self. I put my arm around her during our church service and she leaned her head on my shoulder and cried.
She's got a lot of reasons to cry.
She currently doesn't know where her mom is.
Her mom, who had to take the kids and run from the father of the kids because he was so violent.
So she hasn't seen her dad since she was 5 or 6.
I should also mention, her mom was a drug abuser for the entirety of the time that my student can remember.
Oh right.. also, she's 12.
When she was a younger, no one just hugged her and told her they loved her.
When she was in a bad mood and just wanted someone to hold her, no one did.
When she was scared, she toughed it out with no one to sit in bed with her until she fell asleep.
So I held her, fighting back tears because I'm 26 and feel like I can't really do anything to help her.
Because sometimes... life isn't fair.
10.24.2012
perspective.
This is Jessica Ridgeway. Unless you've been living under a rock for the last month, you already know her name and her story.
Today they arrested the man they suspect is her killer.
And by man, I mean 17-year old.
Since the news has broken, I've gotten 3 different perspectives. Each valuable. Each wildly different.
First - I got a call from a listener to the radio station, concerned that people were so focused on praying for Jessica Ridgeway's family that they would also forget to pray for the killer's family. Her heart was especially for his mother who has to be going through unbelievable disbelief when her son turned himself in. I can't imagine what either family has to be going through.
Second - One of the high school students from my church texted me. She had classes with him. Sat next to him. Knew his name, his face and that he was nice to her. Her school is in emotional disarray today. I can't imagine what those who knew him are feeling... teachers, friends, parents. All feeling responsible for a crime they didn't commit.
Third - A friend of mine posted that there are people who die - in the thousands, all over the world and even all over this country - every day. And they don't get even half the attention that this little girl has gotten. I can't imagine the ache those families feel... but I'm sure the parents of Jessica Ridgeway envy their privacy.
A grieving community.
Two families losing their children.
A school full of confused high schoolers.
Where's God?
He's there. He's been in the teams of people searching for a girl they don't even know. He's been in the police officers who've worked long hours to bring justice for a family. He's in the counselors who are talking to students who have no idea how something so terrible could have happened in their own backyard.
There is evil. But the good that we see is the evidence of God. And it can't be ignored.
Let's remember life. And not take for granted the limited time that we have with the people we love.
Let's pray. For justice. And for peace.
Life is short.
And in even the middle of all of this... God is good.
10.22.2012
with someone.
In case you don't know me at all, I love being a part of student ministries. It's given me the chance to get to know some awesome middle and high school kids. I think they've probably taught me more than I've taught them.
One of my favorite students over the weekend said, "I just want to be with someone." Not in reference to having a boyfriend. Instead wanting to have that one friend that you can always call...
always talk to...
always text who you know will always text you back....
that you know loves you...
that you trust with all of the stuff about yourself that you hate...
I just want to be with someone.
Isn't that what we're all looking for? Over years of doing ministry and just being a girl, I know that's what in my heart and in my friends' hearts. I had a friend who used to tell me that she "didn't need anyone but God."
I disagree.
While God is ultimately the only thing that is stable and steady, the only Being we can put our faith and trust in, I think we were created to be in relationship... to be in community.
We need support.
We need accountability.
We need to be with someone.
Or at least, I know I do.
And I'm incredibly grateful to the people who let me call, text or come over and eat their food and just hear me.
 |
| Sometimes there's pie everywhere and I have a bloody nose. I am so cool. |
One of my favorite students over the weekend said, "I just want to be with someone." Not in reference to having a boyfriend. Instead wanting to have that one friend that you can always call...
always talk to...
always text who you know will always text you back....
that you know loves you...
that you trust with all of the stuff about yourself that you hate...
I just want to be with someone.
Isn't that what we're all looking for? Over years of doing ministry and just being a girl, I know that's what in my heart and in my friends' hearts. I had a friend who used to tell me that she "didn't need anyone but God."
I disagree.
While God is ultimately the only thing that is stable and steady, the only Being we can put our faith and trust in, I think we were created to be in relationship... to be in community.
We need support.
We need accountability.
We need to be with someone.
Or at least, I know I do.
And I'm incredibly grateful to the people who let me call, text or come over and eat their food and just hear me.
10.08.2012
stability.
It's not fair.
It's not fair that good kids get hurt.
It's not fair that middle school students hear that their parents don't want them... from their parents.
It's not fair that people make terrible choices, and it affects you. And wounds you.
It's not fair that the person that you love, that you fight for, that you consider your best friend can take the intimate knowledge they have of you, and use it against you.
Kids are broken.
People are broken.
We're all broken.
And it sucks.
And I believe in a good God and trust that He is in control, but it's harder some days than others.
It's hard to not want to just take the pain away from the people that I love.
Sometimes I hate when my own world is spinning away well while I watch as people I care about lose theirs. And I wish my world would crash instead of theirs. Which is dumb. Because I should be grateful that what's going on in my life is okay. And be steady for the people who need stability.
So in the good times in my own life... while others are in chaos... I still need to follow hard after Jesus. Because if someone is going to lean on me, I should lean on something bigger. So I can point them to the cure, not just treatment.
It's not fair that good kids get hurt.
It's not fair that middle school students hear that their parents don't want them... from their parents.
It's not fair that people make terrible choices, and it affects you. And wounds you.
It's not fair that the person that you love, that you fight for, that you consider your best friend can take the intimate knowledge they have of you, and use it against you.
Kids are broken.
People are broken.
We're all broken.
And it sucks.
And I believe in a good God and trust that He is in control, but it's harder some days than others.
It's hard to not want to just take the pain away from the people that I love.
Sometimes I hate when my own world is spinning away well while I watch as people I care about lose theirs. And I wish my world would crash instead of theirs. Which is dumb. Because I should be grateful that what's going on in my life is okay. And be steady for the people who need stability.
So in the good times in my own life... while others are in chaos... I still need to follow hard after Jesus. Because if someone is going to lean on me, I should lean on something bigger. So I can point them to the cure, not just treatment.
9.27.2012
struggle.
An Open Letter to my hurting friend(s):
Life is hard. In fact...sometimes it downright sucks.
Like now. Things are hard. All around. It feels out of control. There's not one area of life that's steady. I know. I've been there. And it was hard.
There are lots of people who can maybe give you better answers than this, but there isn't a right answer.
If there were, someone would have told you it already.
If there was something someone could say that would make things suddenly easier, they would have said it.
If there was a magic wand that could make people trade places and help each other, someone would be a millionaire.
But, from me, knowing you... let me say this:
You are loved. By the people around you. By a God that created you and currently rules the universe.
You are smart. Good at your job (or jobs). A leader. The kind people want to follow, which is not a quality every leader possesses.
You are a good friend. In spite of your crazy chaos, you have been able to see me in the middle of it all. And I am so grateful.
I'm sorry that things are so tough. I pray for you a lot.
You're strong and this season will pass. And you serve a big God.
But I get that it sucks right now. Take what time you need.
-me-
Life is hard. In fact...sometimes it downright sucks.
Like now. Things are hard. All around. It feels out of control. There's not one area of life that's steady. I know. I've been there. And it was hard.
There are lots of people who can maybe give you better answers than this, but there isn't a right answer.
If there were, someone would have told you it already.
If there was something someone could say that would make things suddenly easier, they would have said it.
If there was a magic wand that could make people trade places and help each other, someone would be a millionaire.
But, from me, knowing you... let me say this:
You are loved. By the people around you. By a God that created you and currently rules the universe.
You are smart. Good at your job (or jobs). A leader. The kind people want to follow, which is not a quality every leader possesses.
You are a good friend. In spite of your crazy chaos, you have been able to see me in the middle of it all. And I am so grateful.
I'm sorry that things are so tough. I pray for you a lot.
You're strong and this season will pass. And you serve a big God.
But I get that it sucks right now. Take what time you need.
-me-
9.19.2012
mundane.
Or when you're sick and sneezing constantly, you think, I don't even remember what it's like to not have to use an entire box of tissues in one day. What must that be like?
Maybe that's just me. I have a tendency to look at whatever is going on in my life right now and not see what has been... or what could be. I mean, whoever really stops to think, I am so glad that my grass is greener than THAT guy's.
Because most often, I've felt God show up when things are hard, I wonder if when things are just okay I forget to look at my need for Jesus.
I want to change that.
I want to see God working in the mundane, and not just the chaos.
I want to learn more and follow Jesus better when I'm just reading my Bible and not just at a special conference.
I want to love the students that I work with well when their parents are good and school is going okay and not just when their family explodes or they have to move suddenly.
Also, I don't have grass. So my grass will never be greener.
I'm such a good optimist.
9.06.2012
grandparents
Grandparents day was always a big deal at my school when I was growing up. It wasn't a competition, but if it were, I would have won best grandparents in the class, if I do say so myself. They were a big part of my growing-up years and shared a lot of wisdom with me. Here are just 4 of the many pearls of wisdom they shared with me:
1) Let the dog go
My grandma had the awesomest dog ever named Cindy. Cindy was a mutt with a lot of spunk who liked to run out the door as often as she could. I remember one distinct time Cindy ran away and I was SO close to being able to catch her (and by so close, I mean, I was like... 5 and ran as fast as my chubby, kindergarten legs would take me out the front door). My grandmother told me to let her go. She'd come back if we didn't chase her.
Life Lesson 1 - sometimes we have to hold the things we love with an open hand.
2) Always walk for donuts
My mom went back to work after I started school, but I only had half days and my mom was working full days. That meant I got to spend my afternoons with Grandma. We'd walk the trail near her house to "downtown" (my town had 800 people in it, hence the quotes) to our favorite donut shop. It was across from the post office and liquor store, but they were the best donut holes I've ever had before or since.
Life Lesson 2 - Donuts and also just, life is better when you get there with people you love.
3) Feed your family
Because my entire family lived so close, we spent all our major holidays together. My granny, no matter how tired she was or how many people were expected to come, always had us over to her house. She'd cook for days leading up to a holiday and always knew exactly how many potatoes she needed to make for each person to have some that day and enough for leftovers.
Life Lesson 3 - being together is important. Be a catalyst to make it happen.
4) Be Scottish
Granny was born and raised in Edinburgh, Scotland. She's got a killer accent and Scottish pride. When it came to her kids and grandkids, Granny is the one who wouldn't beat around the bush. We never had to wonder what she felt about anything because she told us, tempered with love and usually over soup (she makes incredible homemade soup).
Life Lesson 4 - Speak truth to those you love. It will serve them well.
I don't call either of them as much as I should, but, Grandma and Granny, if you ever have the chance to read this, I love you.
1) Let the dog go
My grandma had the awesomest dog ever named Cindy. Cindy was a mutt with a lot of spunk who liked to run out the door as often as she could. I remember one distinct time Cindy ran away and I was SO close to being able to catch her (and by so close, I mean, I was like... 5 and ran as fast as my chubby, kindergarten legs would take me out the front door). My grandmother told me to let her go. She'd come back if we didn't chase her.
Life Lesson 1 - sometimes we have to hold the things we love with an open hand.
2) Always walk for donuts
My mom went back to work after I started school, but I only had half days and my mom was working full days. That meant I got to spend my afternoons with Grandma. We'd walk the trail near her house to "downtown" (my town had 800 people in it, hence the quotes) to our favorite donut shop. It was across from the post office and liquor store, but they were the best donut holes I've ever had before or since.
Life Lesson 2 - Donuts and also just, life is better when you get there with people you love.
3) Feed your family
Because my entire family lived so close, we spent all our major holidays together. My granny, no matter how tired she was or how many people were expected to come, always had us over to her house. She'd cook for days leading up to a holiday and always knew exactly how many potatoes she needed to make for each person to have some that day and enough for leftovers.
Life Lesson 3 - being together is important. Be a catalyst to make it happen.
4) Be Scottish
Granny was born and raised in Edinburgh, Scotland. She's got a killer accent and Scottish pride. When it came to her kids and grandkids, Granny is the one who wouldn't beat around the bush. We never had to wonder what she felt about anything because she told us, tempered with love and usually over soup (she makes incredible homemade soup).
Life Lesson 4 - Speak truth to those you love. It will serve them well.
I don't call either of them as much as I should, but, Grandma and Granny, if you ever have the chance to read this, I love you.
9.04.2012
fairy tale.
Traveling across the country in search of "the one."
Your dream guy running down a crowded street yelling your name.
Finding love that works from just a smile from a cute stranger on the street.
This crap doesn't happen in real life.
This quote came across my Facebook feed from one of my former professors:
No one is as smooth as Will Smith in Hitch, as heroic as Jason Bourne in all of the Bourne Movies, as attractive as Ryan Gosling in well... anything, or as brave as Mel Gibson in Braveheart.
Real life is grocery shopping on a Thursday after a long day of working with incompetent co-workers and trying to decide what's for dinner...again. Real life is weeks of not connecting because ministry, events, other friends, family, bills and just... Life.
As I've looked at couples that I admire, I see teammates who work together with their middle school foster kid. I see best friends who just like hanging out with each other and watching Star Wars on a rainy day. Men who get up early to take the kids to school so their wife can sleep. Women who are willing to give up their comfort zone and move across the country for her husband's dream job.
I'll probably never write a novel about some grand romantic gesture that happened to me.
Your dream guy running down a crowded street yelling your name.
Finding love that works from just a smile from a cute stranger on the street.
This crap doesn't happen in real life.
This quote came across my Facebook feed from one of my former professors:
You don't want to get married. You want to get married in a movie.
No one is as smooth as Will Smith in Hitch, as heroic as Jason Bourne in all of the Bourne Movies, as attractive as Ryan Gosling in well... anything, or as brave as Mel Gibson in Braveheart.
Real life is grocery shopping on a Thursday after a long day of working with incompetent co-workers and trying to decide what's for dinner...again. Real life is weeks of not connecting because ministry, events, other friends, family, bills and just... Life.
As I've looked at couples that I admire, I see teammates who work together with their middle school foster kid. I see best friends who just like hanging out with each other and watching Star Wars on a rainy day. Men who get up early to take the kids to school so their wife can sleep. Women who are willing to give up their comfort zone and move across the country for her husband's dream job.
I'll probably never write a novel about some grand romantic gesture that happened to me.
But... I'm okay with that.
In fact, I'd rather have it that way.
8.29.2012
fear
Is it vain if sometimes I read back over my old blog posts? Because I definitely do. It's sort of like going back through your journal and seeing where you were. It's a little embarrassing, but eye-opening too - like you can't believe you were feeling that only a few months ago.
I went to an absolutely incredible concert last night and this song struck me:
My reply (because I'm snarky sometimes) was, "No one wakes up in the morning and says, 'I hope I get my heart broken today.'" But we can't keep people at arm's length just in case they hurt us somewhere down the road. Because... let's be honest, none of us are perfect so we're going to hurt each other. The difference between a relationship that lasts and one that doesn't, is how you respond when you hurt or get hurt.
Love is high risk.
But it's also high reward.
I went to an absolutely incredible concert last night and this song struck me:
There will come a time, you'll see with no more tears.
And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears.
Get over your hill and see what you find there
With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair.
[after the storm - mumford and sons]One of my good friends came over for dinner last week and we talked about the stuff that scares us the most. Both of us look at our past and see brokenness, especially in our relationships. As we talked she said, "I'm just afraid of getting hurt again."
My reply (because I'm snarky sometimes) was, "No one wakes up in the morning and says, 'I hope I get my heart broken today.'" But we can't keep people at arm's length just in case they hurt us somewhere down the road. Because... let's be honest, none of us are perfect so we're going to hurt each other. The difference between a relationship that lasts and one that doesn't, is how you respond when you hurt or get hurt.
Love is high risk.
But it's also high reward.
8.24.2012
year.
I didn't move at all when I was growing up. Well... except for the BIG move from South Korea (where I was born) to upstate New York, but... that wasn't really my choice (yay adoption!). The last 8 years? I've moved from a tiny town... to a town full of corn... to the city known for being the ghetto... to a city WAAAY north of anything I wanted to be a part of... to the suburbs.
Not much has stayed the same in the last 5 years.
Friends have come and gone.
I've had 3 different supervisors at my job and held 3 different titles.
Three tiny 6th grade girls grew into fifteen or more strong sophomore women.
An incredible group of men and women have walked through life leading a group of crazy and awesome middle school kids at my church.
Those closest to me have walked through some of the highest points in their life... and some of the lowest.
I got engaged... married... and then divorced. And survived.
Over the last year, the instability in my world has righted itself and I find myself here today with a community that I can't even begin to thank for the way they have shown up when I've needed them most.
I'm grateful for people who have given me a couch to sleep on when I've needed it.
Who've listen to me cry on the phone and felt helpless even though it was the thing I needed the most.
Who've sat with me for hours on my roof and just heard me.
Who've challenged me to follow Jesus better... and let me do the same for them.
Who've driven all the way downtown just for ice cream (the best ice cream ever, might I add).
Who've waited for hours for breakfast at my favorite breakfast place (what? I like food)
Who've learned more about radio than they've ever wanted to.
Who've run marathons, half marathons or just come to watch.
Who've done life with me.
"Who've" is a funny contraction.
Not much has stayed the same in the last 5 years.
Friends have come and gone.
I've had 3 different supervisors at my job and held 3 different titles.
Three tiny 6th grade girls grew into fifteen or more strong sophomore women.
An incredible group of men and women have walked through life leading a group of crazy and awesome middle school kids at my church.
Those closest to me have walked through some of the highest points in their life... and some of the lowest.
I got engaged... married... and then divorced. And survived.
Over the last year, the instability in my world has righted itself and I find myself here today with a community that I can't even begin to thank for the way they have shown up when I've needed them most.
I'm grateful for people who have given me a couch to sleep on when I've needed it.
Who've listen to me cry on the phone and felt helpless even though it was the thing I needed the most.
Who've sat with me for hours on my roof and just heard me.
Who've challenged me to follow Jesus better... and let me do the same for them.
Who've driven all the way downtown just for ice cream (the best ice cream ever, might I add).
Who've waited for hours for breakfast at my favorite breakfast place (what? I like food)
Who've learned more about radio than they've ever wanted to.
Who've run marathons, half marathons or just come to watch.
Who've done life with me.
"Who've" is a funny contraction.
8.15.2012
exchange
"It's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all."
I don't know who said that. Or why.
But I hate them.
I will even own up to having used that phrase myself, but I still hate it. Because I want it to be true, but I don't want the risk that goes with it.
Because sometimes, there are good things in my life, good people, good work being done...good, but if I would risk a little... it could be really great. Or... the pessimist in me realizes... it could be terrible. And I could lose what's good.
So my question is... is it worth giving up something really good...
... for the chance at something incredible?
Here's what I'm battling... God has an amazing, better-way for us to do life. I think He has a more-abundant life for us if we will follow Him and the things that He's calling us to do. But what if... the risk I'm thinking about taking isn't God... and it's just what I want?
Plus. Straight-up, I'm just scared.
Scared to give up what's familiar.
For something that is unknown territory. And has the potential to be fantastic. And also the potential to fail.
So is it?
Is it better to love and maybe lose?
Or never take the risk?
I don't know who said that. Or why.
But I hate them.
I will even own up to having used that phrase myself, but I still hate it. Because I want it to be true, but I don't want the risk that goes with it.
Because sometimes, there are good things in my life, good people, good work being done...good, but if I would risk a little... it could be really great. Or... the pessimist in me realizes... it could be terrible. And I could lose what's good.
So my question is... is it worth giving up something really good...
... for the chance at something incredible?
Here's what I'm battling... God has an amazing, better-way for us to do life. I think He has a more-abundant life for us if we will follow Him and the things that He's calling us to do. But what if... the risk I'm thinking about taking isn't God... and it's just what I want?
Plus. Straight-up, I'm just scared.
Scared to give up what's familiar.
For something that is unknown territory. And has the potential to be fantastic. And also the potential to fail.
So is it?
Is it better to love and maybe lose?
Or never take the risk?
8.03.2012
trust. part deux.
I'm naturally an open book. Stuff that normal people guard about themselves, I don't. I fail at things. At relationships. At ministry. At being a good Christ-follower. I'm not afraid to let you see what I'm not good at.
But it doesn't mean I trust you.
Trust for me is letting you see the person that's behind the character I want everyone else to see. The one that's beyond squeamish about slugs. The one that jumps a little bit at loud noises for no good reason. It's when I call you to talk... or text you... just because I need to talk to someone, and I want it to be you. Trust is me letting you see that I might be a little... or a lot... needy. It's telling you how I feel about you when I really start to care about you beyond what I normally invest in people.
and I'm not always good at that.
At church this weekend our pastor said, "We spend a lot of time trying to figure out if we can trust people or not. And everyone else in the world... is doing that to you too."
I think we are built to find people that we can trust. It's fairly terrifying, but I read a surprisingly poignant article on a usually surfacey women's blog that struck me. Being vulnerable is really the smartest thing we can do, especially in relationships. Because if you are putting on a character for someone and they fall in love with your character then you spend the rest of your life being fake. Instead of being who you are. And doing life with someone who knows you... really knows you.
But it's a pretty scary ride to get there.
And no one ever wants to get hurt.
Is it worth it?
I hope so.
But it doesn't mean I trust you.
Trust for me is letting you see the person that's behind the character I want everyone else to see. The one that's beyond squeamish about slugs. The one that jumps a little bit at loud noises for no good reason. It's when I call you to talk... or text you... just because I need to talk to someone, and I want it to be you. Trust is me letting you see that I might be a little... or a lot... needy. It's telling you how I feel about you when I really start to care about you beyond what I normally invest in people.
and I'm not always good at that.
At church this weekend our pastor said, "We spend a lot of time trying to figure out if we can trust people or not. And everyone else in the world... is doing that to you too."
I think we are built to find people that we can trust. It's fairly terrifying, but I read a surprisingly poignant article on a usually surfacey women's blog that struck me. Being vulnerable is really the smartest thing we can do, especially in relationships. Because if you are putting on a character for someone and they fall in love with your character then you spend the rest of your life being fake. Instead of being who you are. And doing life with someone who knows you... really knows you.
But it's a pretty scary ride to get there.
And no one ever wants to get hurt.
Is it worth it?
I hope so.
8.02.2012
trust.
Sometimes I get calls I don't expect.
Sometimes they're from a student who moved away... who's world came crashing down.
I hate those calls.
Sometimes I feel really helpless. Because I can be there for her to talk her through small isolated times, but can't do life with her. I'm not around to pick her up on a random Friday and go for ice cream. I can't do coffee on a Sunday morning with her and hear what's going on in her heart. I can't celebrate the good with her and show her how much she's loved. And cared for. And valuable.
I can't tell her to guard her heart. To make good friends. To be a good friend.
I can't tell her how much Jesus loves her. And that He's big enough to handle her questions.
When she moved, I remember asking one of my friends, "Please.. just tell me someone in her new city is going to love her and tell her she's important."
And Someone is.
Sometimes I'm really terrible at trusting God with people that I love. Which is ridiculous. He loves them more and more perfectly than I ever could. He'll take care of her. He wasn't surprised when she moved. He wasn't surprised when a phone call worse than she could have imagined came in. And He's there for her. Even if she doesn't know it yet.
I'm just not as important as I think I am.
Sometimes they're from a student who moved away... who's world came crashing down.
I hate those calls.
Sometimes I feel really helpless. Because I can be there for her to talk her through small isolated times, but can't do life with her. I'm not around to pick her up on a random Friday and go for ice cream. I can't do coffee on a Sunday morning with her and hear what's going on in her heart. I can't celebrate the good with her and show her how much she's loved. And cared for. And valuable.
I can't tell her to guard her heart. To make good friends. To be a good friend.
I can't tell her how much Jesus loves her. And that He's big enough to handle her questions.
When she moved, I remember asking one of my friends, "Please.. just tell me someone in her new city is going to love her and tell her she's important."
And Someone is.
Sometimes I'm really terrible at trusting God with people that I love. Which is ridiculous. He loves them more and more perfectly than I ever could. He'll take care of her. He wasn't surprised when she moved. He wasn't surprised when a phone call worse than she could have imagined came in. And He's there for her. Even if she doesn't know it yet.
I'm just not as important as I think I am.
7.20.2012
tragic.
Sometimes I hate my job.
Today was one of those days.
My morning wake up was a phone call about a tragic shooting at a movie theatre where a man opened fire on people watching the midnight showing of The Dark Knight Rises.
I had to write pieces to go on our station. Words that will hopefully comfort those who listen. What comforts in a time like this?
Definitely not words.
Definitely not my words.
I had to put up something on our Web site. Write something that says what's going on and what we're going to do about it. But... I don't know.
What can I do?
What can I even say?
Tragedy. That's the first thing that came to mind. Loss of life. Loss of that feeling of safety that we carry around with us without realizing it. Except that doesn't even seem to convey the depth of what's happening for so many families. Confusion. Grief. Despair. Anger. Questions.
The words of my pastor echoed through the morning...
Instead of asking God, "Why?" - because really, no matter what the answer, it isn't going to make it better - we need to ask, "Who are you God? Can I trust you?"
And in the middle of chaos. Even this. The answer is yes.
But it's still hard.
Today was one of those days.
My morning wake up was a phone call about a tragic shooting at a movie theatre where a man opened fire on people watching the midnight showing of The Dark Knight Rises.
I had to write pieces to go on our station. Words that will hopefully comfort those who listen. What comforts in a time like this?
Definitely not words.
Definitely not my words.
I had to put up something on our Web site. Write something that says what's going on and what we're going to do about it. But... I don't know.
What can I do?
What can I even say?
Tragedy. That's the first thing that came to mind. Loss of life. Loss of that feeling of safety that we carry around with us without realizing it. Except that doesn't even seem to convey the depth of what's happening for so many families. Confusion. Grief. Despair. Anger. Questions.
The words of my pastor echoed through the morning...
Instead of asking God, "Why?" - because really, no matter what the answer, it isn't going to make it better - we need to ask, "Who are you God? Can I trust you?"
And in the middle of chaos. Even this. The answer is yes.
But it's still hard.
7.16.2012
anniversary
Today is my sister and brother-in-law's anniversary.
Well. I think it is. I always forget if it's the 16th or 17th. So. It's either today. Or close to today.
Growing up, my sister and I had our differences. She was dresses and shoes to my sports and t-shirts. We went through the stage where I know I just bothered her (sorry, Sista!). Then I became her study partner for her ridiculous dental hygiene classes. Then she got married and moved to Ohio with this guy who once bought us an ice cream scoop because all our spoons were bent.
They've been married for 12 years. (Or possibly 11. Again. It's something close.) And they are one of the couples that I look at and think... wow. This marriage thing? It can really work.
My sister and her husband came out to visit about a month ago and I had an epiphany:
I really LOVE my sister.
She's hilarious. And sometimes crazy. And her husband has played a big part of that.
The things that I love about him, have spread to her.
And the things that she's really good at, have transferred to him.
They get in tiffs, but then they give each other "hugs and kisses!" and figure it out.
Their story will never be mine, but it's tailor-made for them by a God who writes incredible and creative love stories.
And He can be trusted.
Well. I think it is. I always forget if it's the 16th or 17th. So. It's either today. Or close to today.
Growing up, my sister and I had our differences. She was dresses and shoes to my sports and t-shirts. We went through the stage where I know I just bothered her (sorry, Sista!). Then I became her study partner for her ridiculous dental hygiene classes. Then she got married and moved to Ohio with this guy who once bought us an ice cream scoop because all our spoons were bent.
They've been married for 12 years. (Or possibly 11. Again. It's something close.) And they are one of the couples that I look at and think... wow. This marriage thing? It can really work.
My sister and her husband came out to visit about a month ago and I had an epiphany:
I really LOVE my sister.
She's hilarious. And sometimes crazy. And her husband has played a big part of that.
The things that I love about him, have spread to her.
And the things that she's really good at, have transferred to him.
They get in tiffs, but then they give each other "hugs and kisses!" and figure it out.
Their story will never be mine, but it's tailor-made for them by a God who writes incredible and creative love stories.
And He can be trusted.
7.10.2012
supporting cast
Today is my friend Nicole's birthday. This pretty much gives you a good picture of who we are:
She's the upbeat, charming, happy one. I'm.... the other one.
I've long told her that it's an honor to play her supporting actress in the story of our lives. If we were to title it, I think it might be named Working with Middle Schoolers: A tale of a Ginger and an Asian who never really grew up. It would not be politically correct. (sorry.)
Nicole remembers meeting me and not wanting to be around me.
I remember meeting her and being really tired. (what? just being honest.)
Nicole remembers when we got to know each other and she realized that I was human - messed up and broken.
I remember when we got to know each other and I thought... this girl is who I want to be. She's me... only better. Nicer. Prettier.
She genuinely cares about people.
She accepts advice and criticism well.
She hands out compliments like they're candy on Halloween.
She's good at her job (but would never admit it).
She's a people magnet.
She loves Jesus. And strives to become more like Him in every area of her life.
Nicole thinks I influence her.
I know better.
We often picture our lives as stories to be told that always revolve around us. I'd much rather be in Nicole's story. She's the kind of character in a movie that you want to root for. She's always late... lost a lot... and sometimes runs into things, but you just want her to succeed.
Because she's the person you hope that you can be someday.
Happy birthday, my friend. Hope this year is your best yet.
She's the upbeat, charming, happy one. I'm.... the other one.
I've long told her that it's an honor to play her supporting actress in the story of our lives. If we were to title it, I think it might be named Working with Middle Schoolers: A tale of a Ginger and an Asian who never really grew up. It would not be politically correct. (sorry.)
Nicole remembers meeting me and not wanting to be around me.
I remember meeting her and being really tired. (what? just being honest.)
Nicole remembers when we got to know each other and she realized that I was human - messed up and broken.
I remember when we got to know each other and I thought... this girl is who I want to be. She's me... only better. Nicer. Prettier.
She genuinely cares about people.
She accepts advice and criticism well.
She hands out compliments like they're candy on Halloween.
She's good at her job (but would never admit it).
She's a people magnet.
She loves Jesus. And strives to become more like Him in every area of her life.
Nicole thinks I influence her.
I know better.
We often picture our lives as stories to be told that always revolve around us. I'd much rather be in Nicole's story. She's the kind of character in a movie that you want to root for. She's always late... lost a lot... and sometimes runs into things, but you just want her to succeed.
Because she's the person you hope that you can be someday.
Happy birthday, my friend. Hope this year is your best yet.
7.01.2012
a song
Blessed be Your name in a land that is plentiful, where Your streams of abundance flow.
Blessed be Your name.
Blessed be Your name when I'm found in the desert place. Though I walk through the wilderness,
Blessed be Your name.
When I first moved to a new state, a new timezone and a new life-stage just over 5 years ago, I spent a bunch of months searching for a place to go to church.
If you've never had to "church shop" by yourself before, consider yourself fortunate.
It's awful.
I have some ridiculous stories about people's insane ignorance about racism to some out and out awful stories of the least welcome I've ever felt in a building.
In one of those churches we sang the song "Blessed Be Your Name" by Matt Redman. I don't remember the name of the church because I had tried so many, but I remember it was in the auditorium of an elementary school in uncomfortable foldy-theatre style chairs. I couldn't hold back the tears. I felt like I was in an endless desert, alone, and how could I sing these words "Blessed be Your name" because the name I was blessing had forgotten me.
Today we sang that song again. A different church. And completely different circumstances.
We talked today about how difficult it can sometimes be to follow God when things are good. I know I have a hard time with that. I forget that the reason things are good, is because God is good. But I don't want to forget that I am still not who I need to be.
I'm independent to a fault.
I say things I don't mean.
I talk too much and don't listen enough.
Today I get to be in the land that's plentiful.
Unfortunately, today I also am watching two families in my community walking through the most painful desert of their life.
And there's nothing I can do to help. Nothing will make it better.
But the same God who makes seasons of our life good, walks with us through the chaos.
So pray with me today for the people in my life who are in the valley.
And remember the God of the valley, is the God on the plateau and we need Him just as much there.
6.27.2012
fire.
Growing up, I was terrified our house was going to catch on fire. I watched the Sesame Street episode about fires and how Maria's house burned down and the little kid (who's probably like 35 today) knew exactly what to do. Crawled under the smoke. Out the window. To safety. And then in the next scene, the house was fine.
Not the case for so many people in Colorado Springs today.
A terrifying fire has touched the lives of all of my co-workers in the Springs. This morning our offices there are under the mandatory evacuation. I've seen some of the most terrifying photos come across my facebook feed of homes burning around the people taking them. These are people that I know. That I love. And some of them are leaving their homes for the last time.
This weekend at church, we talked about faith. And how in everything, God is still God. He can be trusted, even in the middle of complete and total tragedy.
But honestly, that's hard to say when you're losing everything.
And that's the thing about God... He's big enough to handle our anger. our questions. our doubts.
And He's still God.
6.17.2012
identity
For the last week I've been at camp in Nebraska with just over 100 middle school students. Yep. I am crazy. I know. I walked away ... more like limped away... from the week with no less than a dozen bruises, a decent tan, and no voice.
One of my students said, "I just want a boyfriend. I don't even know why. I just... feel like I need one."
So she found one.
She's not searching for a good guy. Or even a cute one. Any one will do.
Girls love being loved. And they're looking for it to be the thing that defines them.
Who are they without a boyfriend?
Who are they without someone who constantly pays attention to them?
Who are they if no one wants them?
And so we throw ourselves at guys. We hope that they like us back. We flirt. And smile. And see who responds. It doesn't matter if the guy isn't a good guy. It doesn't matter if he's cute. It doesn't even really matter if we like him or not.
What matters is... we're loved. Someone cares about us. Texts us. Calls to say hi. Wants to hold hands. Pays attention.
Unfortunately.... they all fail.We all do.
Because ultimately what gives us our identity isn't who we're with.
It's Who we were made by.
And I'm not always good at remembering that either. But I'm not in middle school anymore. My relationship status doesn't define who I am.
One of my students said, "I just want a boyfriend. I don't even know why. I just... feel like I need one."
So she found one.
She's not searching for a good guy. Or even a cute one. Any one will do.
Girls love being loved. And they're looking for it to be the thing that defines them.
Who are they without a boyfriend?
Who are they without someone who constantly pays attention to them?
Who are they if no one wants them?
And so we throw ourselves at guys. We hope that they like us back. We flirt. And smile. And see who responds. It doesn't matter if the guy isn't a good guy. It doesn't matter if he's cute. It doesn't even really matter if we like him or not.
What matters is... we're loved. Someone cares about us. Texts us. Calls to say hi. Wants to hold hands. Pays attention.
Unfortunately.... they all fail.We all do.
Because ultimately what gives us our identity isn't who we're with.
It's Who we were made by.
And I'm not always good at remembering that either. But I'm not in middle school anymore. My relationship status doesn't define who I am.
5.30.2012
the cool kids
In high school, it was the very end of the lunchroom tables.
In college, it was the tables to the right, closest to the hot food bar.
Yep. I'm talking about where "the cool kids" sat.
Be shocked. I never sat at either of those.
When I looked at "the cool kids," I saw girls who knew what to wear, how to wear it and perfectly applied makeup. I saw confidence. I saw girls that I didn't think knew my name and wouldn't give me the time of day. I didn't even look at the boys. Pssh. They were busy looking at the "pretty girls."
In college, somehow I accidentally ended up dating one of "the cool guys." He wasn't anything like I expected. Down to earth. Goofy like I was. Loved Jesus and people and wanted to use his "power" as a "cool kid" to influence others. He didn't look down on my friends or me. He just had never met us before.
That changed my opinion of the pretty girls. And made me realize, they were just people (who happened to be more together than I was). Now, two of my best friends are girls I would have considered too-cool-to-be-friends-with-me in high school and college. Talking with them has made me realize, they are battling the same thing I am. That we all are.
Not feeling good enough.
They can't wrap their head around how wonderful, talented and beautiful they really are.
They don't see how fun they are to be with.
They are just as scared as the rest of us to put themselves out there and let someone see their heart. Even though what's there, is stunning.
I think the thing that women - and possibly all people - need to hear, is that you're valuable. God created you. He loves you. Enough to send His Son as a sacrifice. For you. That alone makes you loved.
You're not as ugly as you think you are.
Or as awkward as you see yourself.
And the insecurity you feel? It's okay. We all feel it. We're all nervous to be vulnerable. We're all scared to let our heart get broken. Again.
So let's search together for the balance. Let people care about you. Let them see who you really are. Realize that the God who created everything, loves you above all else.
And that's never going to change.
In college, it was the tables to the right, closest to the hot food bar.
Yep. I'm talking about where "the cool kids" sat.
Be shocked. I never sat at either of those.
When I looked at "the cool kids," I saw girls who knew what to wear, how to wear it and perfectly applied makeup. I saw confidence. I saw girls that I didn't think knew my name and wouldn't give me the time of day. I didn't even look at the boys. Pssh. They were busy looking at the "pretty girls."
In college, somehow I accidentally ended up dating one of "the cool guys." He wasn't anything like I expected. Down to earth. Goofy like I was. Loved Jesus and people and wanted to use his "power" as a "cool kid" to influence others. He didn't look down on my friends or me. He just had never met us before.
That changed my opinion of the pretty girls. And made me realize, they were just people (who happened to be more together than I was). Now, two of my best friends are girls I would have considered too-cool-to-be-friends-with-me in high school and college. Talking with them has made me realize, they are battling the same thing I am. That we all are.
Not feeling good enough.
They can't wrap their head around how wonderful, talented and beautiful they really are.
They don't see how fun they are to be with.
They are just as scared as the rest of us to put themselves out there and let someone see their heart. Even though what's there, is stunning.
I think the thing that women - and possibly all people - need to hear, is that you're valuable. God created you. He loves you. Enough to send His Son as a sacrifice. For you. That alone makes you loved.
You're not as ugly as you think you are.
Or as awkward as you see yourself.
And the insecurity you feel? It's okay. We all feel it. We're all nervous to be vulnerable. We're all scared to let our heart get broken. Again.
So let's search together for the balance. Let people care about you. Let them see who you really are. Realize that the God who created everything, loves you above all else.
And that's never going to change.
5.14.2012
5 years.
It's been 5 years since I moved. Moved away from everything I knew. Everyone I knew. Anything familiar. (how's that for a dramatic intro?)
If you had asked me then where I would be in 5 years, I probably would have said, married, living on the East coast - likely Baltimore, maybe a dog, trying to be program director at some radio station. And learning Korean. Because that's the American dream, right?
But where I am? Thousands of miles from either coast. With a cat. Never wanting to be program director of a radio station. EVER. Divorced.
And I think... exactly where God wants me.
This isn't the path I would have picked to get here. In fact, if there were the opportunity to go back 5 years and do it again, I would. I would make better decisions. I would follow God better. And not choose a path that "felt right" at the time.
But we don't get to do that.
It's hard not to look back and realize that if I had only followed God for the last 5 years - how different and how much better would my life look right now? I'm jealous of the people who "did it right" and don't know how much better their world is because they were smarter than I am.
So instead, I look ahead. At the next 5 years. Where I do have the chance to make better decisions. To learn from the dumb things I did in my past. To influence the people around me. For a few weeks, a few years, or whatever amount of time I get.
And maybe I'll learn Korean after all.
Here's to the next 5 years.
If you had asked me then where I would be in 5 years, I probably would have said, married, living on the East coast - likely Baltimore, maybe a dog, trying to be program director at some radio station. And learning Korean. Because that's the American dream, right?
But where I am? Thousands of miles from either coast. With a cat. Never wanting to be program director of a radio station. EVER. Divorced.
And I think... exactly where God wants me.
This isn't the path I would have picked to get here. In fact, if there were the opportunity to go back 5 years and do it again, I would. I would make better decisions. I would follow God better. And not choose a path that "felt right" at the time.
But we don't get to do that.
It's hard not to look back and realize that if I had only followed God for the last 5 years - how different and how much better would my life look right now? I'm jealous of the people who "did it right" and don't know how much better their world is because they were smarter than I am.
So instead, I look ahead. At the next 5 years. Where I do have the chance to make better decisions. To learn from the dumb things I did in my past. To influence the people around me. For a few weeks, a few years, or whatever amount of time I get.
And maybe I'll learn Korean after all.
Here's to the next 5 years.
5.06.2012
needed.
If you've ever trained for a marathon, you may know that somewhere along your training road, you are likely to hit a wall. Where you think running is stupid. This marathon thing? Stupid. All of this? Stupid.
And yes. I hit that wall this weekend.
I was supposed to run 15 miles this weekend and somewhere around mile 13, I was out. I walked. I hate walking in the middle of a run, but I couldn't go any further. I walked about 3/4 of a mile and took up my run again. 2 miles left. I was honestly praying that God would just help me get through the rest.
With 1.5 miles to go, I ran past a man waiting at a bus stop. He was smiling at me. Surely, this was God's way of encouraging me. He sent me a cheerleader in the form of a random stranger.
"This is the worst time of day to be running," he said. Some cheerleader.
I smiled back at him, sarcastically, and said, "Yep. 15 miles though. Almost done." So I ran. Harder. To prove to Mr. I-Know-Everything-About-Running wrong.
After I finished, I thought about the guy that had unknowingly motivated me to finish well. And I realized... sometimes, God sends us what we need, even if it's not what we want.
I wanted happy feelings. Someone to give me platitudes and wish me well. To smile and tell me that, even after 13 miles, I was still glowing. (HA. that would have been lies).
But, really, I needed truth. It motivated me. It wasn't what I wanted, but the truth that I don't want to hear, is usually the one I need to hear the most.
I'm grateful to have people as constants in my life (not just random strangers) that are willing to do that for me.
Who remind me that I'm good, but not that good.
Who tell me that I'm not in charge of saving the world.
Who speak the truth that in the middle of the toughest stuff, we serve a big God.
And who want to shave my cat. But whatever. Nobody's perfect.
And yes. I hit that wall this weekend.
I was supposed to run 15 miles this weekend and somewhere around mile 13, I was out. I walked. I hate walking in the middle of a run, but I couldn't go any further. I walked about 3/4 of a mile and took up my run again. 2 miles left. I was honestly praying that God would just help me get through the rest.
With 1.5 miles to go, I ran past a man waiting at a bus stop. He was smiling at me. Surely, this was God's way of encouraging me. He sent me a cheerleader in the form of a random stranger.
"This is the worst time of day to be running," he said. Some cheerleader.
I smiled back at him, sarcastically, and said, "Yep. 15 miles though. Almost done." So I ran. Harder. To prove to Mr. I-Know-Everything-About-Running wrong.
After I finished, I thought about the guy that had unknowingly motivated me to finish well. And I realized... sometimes, God sends us what we need, even if it's not what we want.
I wanted happy feelings. Someone to give me platitudes and wish me well. To smile and tell me that, even after 13 miles, I was still glowing. (HA. that would have been lies).
But, really, I needed truth. It motivated me. It wasn't what I wanted, but the truth that I don't want to hear, is usually the one I need to hear the most.
I'm grateful to have people as constants in my life (not just random strangers) that are willing to do that for me.
Who remind me that I'm good, but not that good.
Who tell me that I'm not in charge of saving the world.
Who speak the truth that in the middle of the toughest stuff, we serve a big God.
And who want to shave my cat. But whatever. Nobody's perfect.
4.30.2012
words.
That stupid "sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never
hurt me" phrase is dumb. Whoever first said that is just. plain. wrong.
I have a ton of work to get done today. And I can't focus on any of it. My stomach is in knots and I can't shake this awful anxious feeling out of my brain.
I don't know if you've ever sent a complaint email or phone call or anything to a company. I haven't. And here's why. At my job, I get to deal with those. Not all of them, and I credit my supervisors for being significantly better wordsmiths that I have ever been and ever will be, but enough of them to unsettle my stomach.
Complaints about free things.
Complaints about something I'm trying to do for a specific in-need group in our community.
Complaints about me. Something I've said or done. Or not said. Or not done.
Those last ones are the ones that get to me. I've gotten one positive facebook message and I get a few compliments here and there as comments on my facebook page over the last 5 years or so. And I read them. All of the comments I ever get. Unfortunately, I can't help but read the complaint emails louder. Remember them longer. Take them more personally.
Today that's what's on my mind the most. An impossible, no-win situation that I don't know how to handle. I have used what I thought was grace and truth and ended up feeling like no matter what I say it will be used against me. I feel trapped and unable to put together a sentence that communicates my heart, which is that I want the best for this person. (And yes. I have tried just saying that.)
I was hoping writing this out would help. It hasn't.
Instead, I'm going to take away from this that I need to be more careful about what I say. I'm terrible at that and always have been. I don't want to cause this awful, anxious feeling to anyone else ever. I probably will because I'm an idiot sometimes. But I want it to be less times than before.
I have a ton of work to get done today. And I can't focus on any of it. My stomach is in knots and I can't shake this awful anxious feeling out of my brain.
I don't know if you've ever sent a complaint email or phone call or anything to a company. I haven't. And here's why. At my job, I get to deal with those. Not all of them, and I credit my supervisors for being significantly better wordsmiths that I have ever been and ever will be, but enough of them to unsettle my stomach.
Complaints about free things.
Complaints about something I'm trying to do for a specific in-need group in our community.
Complaints about me. Something I've said or done. Or not said. Or not done.
Those last ones are the ones that get to me. I've gotten one positive facebook message and I get a few compliments here and there as comments on my facebook page over the last 5 years or so. And I read them. All of the comments I ever get. Unfortunately, I can't help but read the complaint emails louder. Remember them longer. Take them more personally.
Today that's what's on my mind the most. An impossible, no-win situation that I don't know how to handle. I have used what I thought was grace and truth and ended up feeling like no matter what I say it will be used against me. I feel trapped and unable to put together a sentence that communicates my heart, which is that I want the best for this person. (And yes. I have tried just saying that.)
I was hoping writing this out would help. It hasn't.
Instead, I'm going to take away from this that I need to be more careful about what I say. I'm terrible at that and always have been. I don't want to cause this awful, anxious feeling to anyone else ever. I probably will because I'm an idiot sometimes. But I want it to be less times than before.
4.26.2012
a moment.
I had dinner tonight with my favorite couple. I admire the way they complement each other. He knows her face so well that he can recognize what she's saying without words. She supports him and believes in him with whatever he tries and they are both better for it.
And now they're parents.
He describes the moment in their blog like this:
The rest of your life... never the same again.
For me, that was the move away from the life I knew in upstate New York. I left home in May 2007 and haven't looked back. I rented my first apartment and made a commitment to living in a state that I had never even visited before moving there.
Along the way I've made some big mistakes. The ones I made commitments not to make when I was in 8th grade. They caught up to me in big ways. The ways that leave you feeling like it might storm forever.
I've also found a big God. The One who takes what looks like shreds of a wrecked life and makes it into something He can use. I've found good friends. The kind that makes you laugh harder than anyone else ever has. That you walk in the rain with like you're in a bad indie movie.
It's crazy to think about the way life would be different if I had stayed in New York or moved back to Ohio or made one of a thousand other decisions. But here I am. And even when I've questioned what in the world is going on in my life, I haven't doubted for a second. This is where I should be.
at least. for now.
And now they're parents.
He describes the moment in their blog like this:
[That] I was now officially a father, and [that] from this point forward my entire life had changed!One moment.
The rest of your life... never the same again.
For me, that was the move away from the life I knew in upstate New York. I left home in May 2007 and haven't looked back. I rented my first apartment and made a commitment to living in a state that I had never even visited before moving there.
Along the way I've made some big mistakes. The ones I made commitments not to make when I was in 8th grade. They caught up to me in big ways. The ways that leave you feeling like it might storm forever.
I've also found a big God. The One who takes what looks like shreds of a wrecked life and makes it into something He can use. I've found good friends. The kind that makes you laugh harder than anyone else ever has. That you walk in the rain with like you're in a bad indie movie.
It's crazy to think about the way life would be different if I had stayed in New York or moved back to Ohio or made one of a thousand other decisions. But here I am. And even when I've questioned what in the world is going on in my life, I haven't doubted for a second. This is where I should be.
at least. for now.
4.22.2012
nothing.
In high school I had the privilege of going to our "leadership conferences" that essentially created our "leadership team" that was our school's version of student council. They still send me emails. That I might immediately delete.
One of the things I remember about those few days (besides thinking that everyone in college was "so cool!!") was the story of the starving baker. The baker spent all day baking bread, but never had time to eat some himself. We can't live like that.
My boss at the camp I grew up going to and working at used to ask us whenever he passed, "Have you spent time with the King today?" A seemingly easy question since we had evening sessions with worship and a sermon and scheduled devotional time with our campers. But he was getting at something deeper. Were we in service to the King, but neglecting to actually spend time with Him?
It's been a tough couple of weeks.
Busy at work.
Drama with kids.
Tough things happening in my friends' lives.
Seems like it doesn't ever stop. I've found myself wondering if there's ever going to be a time that things aren't falling apart for the people around me.
And I'm no good... none of us are any good... unless we're ultimately pointing each other to Jesus. None of us can save anyone. I can't save anyone. Tonight... I'm out. I feel like I've got nothing left.
But, I serve a God who can. And I need to remember to point to Him.
One of the things I remember about those few days (besides thinking that everyone in college was "so cool!!") was the story of the starving baker. The baker spent all day baking bread, but never had time to eat some himself. We can't live like that.
My boss at the camp I grew up going to and working at used to ask us whenever he passed, "Have you spent time with the King today?" A seemingly easy question since we had evening sessions with worship and a sermon and scheduled devotional time with our campers. But he was getting at something deeper. Were we in service to the King, but neglecting to actually spend time with Him?
It's been a tough couple of weeks.
Busy at work.
Drama with kids.
Tough things happening in my friends' lives.
Seems like it doesn't ever stop. I've found myself wondering if there's ever going to be a time that things aren't falling apart for the people around me.
And I'm no good... none of us are any good... unless we're ultimately pointing each other to Jesus. None of us can save anyone. I can't save anyone. Tonight... I'm out. I feel like I've got nothing left.
But, I serve a God who can. And I need to remember to point to Him.
4.12.2012
moving.
There's some phrase about life being 10% what happens to you and 90% what your response is.
In the middle school group that I work in I have 3 students who are on the verge of moving. Their responses, even though they're all the same age, are as far apart as you could possibly get.
Gladys* (shock, that's not her real name) is terrified. She's been moving her entire life. And she can't imagine the thought of moving again. She feels like she finally made a friend. One who loves her for who she is. Who really just likes her. And the idea of leaving that behind is absolutely paralyzing.
Pauline* is angry. She's never moved. She's the "big dog" in her school. The popular kid who has never had to try at anything. She's built a reputation for being a "bad kid" who doesn't care what anyone else thinks about. She's got a natural charisma that makes her a natural leader. But when you get her alone... she doesn't want to leave. Even at 11 she realizes this means she'll walk into a world with already established relationships and pecking orders. She's not the queen anymore.
Jenevieve* is ready. She's moving to Kenya. A different country. A different culture. A different life. She's got good friends here that she'll miss. She'll miss doing gymnastics at a high-end gym. But she can't wait. She's 12. She's got what the other two girls are missing... hope. Hope that even in another world... she'll have friends and family and God. And she's along for the ride.
I'm not planning on moving anytime soon, but as change comes in my life, I only hope that I can handle it with half as much grace as this 12-year old student. She walks ahead with semi-reckless abandon, remembering what is behind, but considering what is ahead.With great anticipation.
Because, sometimes... you have to move.
In the middle school group that I work in I have 3 students who are on the verge of moving. Their responses, even though they're all the same age, are as far apart as you could possibly get.
Gladys* (shock, that's not her real name) is terrified. She's been moving her entire life. And she can't imagine the thought of moving again. She feels like she finally made a friend. One who loves her for who she is. Who really just likes her. And the idea of leaving that behind is absolutely paralyzing.
Pauline* is angry. She's never moved. She's the "big dog" in her school. The popular kid who has never had to try at anything. She's built a reputation for being a "bad kid" who doesn't care what anyone else thinks about. She's got a natural charisma that makes her a natural leader. But when you get her alone... she doesn't want to leave. Even at 11 she realizes this means she'll walk into a world with already established relationships and pecking orders. She's not the queen anymore.
Jenevieve* is ready. She's moving to Kenya. A different country. A different culture. A different life. She's got good friends here that she'll miss. She'll miss doing gymnastics at a high-end gym. But she can't wait. She's 12. She's got what the other two girls are missing... hope. Hope that even in another world... she'll have friends and family and God. And she's along for the ride.
I'm not planning on moving anytime soon, but as change comes in my life, I only hope that I can handle it with half as much grace as this 12-year old student. She walks ahead with semi-reckless abandon, remembering what is behind, but considering what is ahead.With great anticipation.
Because, sometimes... you have to move.
4.10.2012
mom.
This is my mom and me over the highest suspension bridge in the world, the Royal Gorge. She's going to read this and call me and tell me that she hates this picture. Sorry, Mom. You're talking in all of the other pictures I have.
My mom is fantastic. When I was in elementary school, I remember her coming on field trips and being so proud that MY mom was the one driving my friends and me around to the post office, the science center and the local grocery store.
As I got older, my mom and I spent about a billion hours in the car driving to figure skating lessons and competitions. Then basketball. Then volleyball. Practices. Games. Millions of them. Even though she had worked a whole day at her stressful job, she still got us dinner (sometimes it was ice cream) and made sure we were all taken care of. And she pretended to know what was going on in all of the sports I played.
She helped me find my first job, drove me to look at colleges, somehow found a place for me to live in Colorado and is always there to answer the phone, even when it's an ungodly hour on the East Coast.
When we went to the grocery store in my town, my mom always knew someone. One of her students was there or someone from church or someone she went to school with. I don't think she's ever forgotten a face of someone she's met. She's got the biggest heart of anyone I've ever met and I was fortunate enough that she passed even a little bit of her compassionate spirit on to me. She never half-cares about someone. When she loves, she loves you, your kids, your parents, your aunts, your distant relatives and even your pets.
The good (and also some of the crazy) in me is my mom's influence. She showed me what it meant to be a mom, a daughter, a sister and a friend. She's one of those people that you just ... tell things to. Because she'll listen. And she'll love you through it. No matter what.
So happy (super belated) birthday, Mom. I love you and I'm beyond grateful for who you have helped me become.
My mom is fantastic. When I was in elementary school, I remember her coming on field trips and being so proud that MY mom was the one driving my friends and me around to the post office, the science center and the local grocery store.
As I got older, my mom and I spent about a billion hours in the car driving to figure skating lessons and competitions. Then basketball. Then volleyball. Practices. Games. Millions of them. Even though she had worked a whole day at her stressful job, she still got us dinner (sometimes it was ice cream) and made sure we were all taken care of. And she pretended to know what was going on in all of the sports I played.
She helped me find my first job, drove me to look at colleges, somehow found a place for me to live in Colorado and is always there to answer the phone, even when it's an ungodly hour on the East Coast.
When we went to the grocery store in my town, my mom always knew someone. One of her students was there or someone from church or someone she went to school with. I don't think she's ever forgotten a face of someone she's met. She's got the biggest heart of anyone I've ever met and I was fortunate enough that she passed even a little bit of her compassionate spirit on to me. She never half-cares about someone. When she loves, she loves you, your kids, your parents, your aunts, your distant relatives and even your pets.
The good (and also some of the crazy) in me is my mom's influence. She showed me what it meant to be a mom, a daughter, a sister and a friend. She's one of those people that you just ... tell things to. Because she'll listen. And she'll love you through it. No matter what.
So happy (super belated) birthday, Mom. I love you and I'm beyond grateful for who you have helped me become.
4.02.2012
team gale
Yes. That's a Hunger Games reference. I know. I'm a #sellout. (Yep. Hashtagged a blog post.)
If you know nothing about these books then let me explain the part you need to know to understand why I am "Team Gale." Katniss, the lead character, has a best friend and hunting partner, Gale. They're always together and pretty uncertain of how they feel about each other. Then she goes to compete in the Hunger Games (hence the name of the book) where 24 teenagers fight to kill each other. Uplifting, huh? The other person from her district competing is Peeta, a boy who admits his long, unrequited love for her before they head into the arena into certain death. (Apparently everyone in the post-apocalyptic world will have crazy names.)
Peeta puts up with Katniss's bad attitude, unpredictable personality and uncertainty about... well.. just about everything.
Gale is missing in most of the first book, but makes a comeback as the man who protected their district and Katniss's family as he promised he would.
Two of my closest female friends love Peeta. The boy who loves so relentlessly, is honest about his feelings for the heroine and takes a backseat to push her to be her best. He pursues her through her less-than-attractive times.
But as I mentioned before... that's not me.
I want to love someone who is fighting alongside me. Not just fighting for me.
Love, to me, is spoken in ...
Being the person I know I can call because things are falling apart or just because I need to talk with someone.
Inside jokes that make sense only to us and for no good reason.
Going on an adventure together and loving it.
Sitting around, cleaning the house or making dinner and still loving it.
Not having to turn on the radio while we're driving because we're busy talking about something... or nothing.
Silence because it's just comfortable being together.
Challenging me to do better at being a Christ-follower, leader and person without making me feel like I've been inadequate up until that point.
Knowing when it's okay to point out the things I'm terrible at and when to not ever bring up that failure again.
As you can see, I'm clearly a hopeless romantic.
Walks on the beach and such as.
If you know nothing about these books then let me explain the part you need to know to understand why I am "Team Gale." Katniss, the lead character, has a best friend and hunting partner, Gale. They're always together and pretty uncertain of how they feel about each other. Then she goes to compete in the Hunger Games (hence the name of the book) where 24 teenagers fight to kill each other. Uplifting, huh? The other person from her district competing is Peeta, a boy who admits his long, unrequited love for her before they head into the arena into certain death. (Apparently everyone in the post-apocalyptic world will have crazy names.)
Peeta puts up with Katniss's bad attitude, unpredictable personality and uncertainty about... well.. just about everything.
Gale is missing in most of the first book, but makes a comeback as the man who protected their district and Katniss's family as he promised he would.
Two of my closest female friends love Peeta. The boy who loves so relentlessly, is honest about his feelings for the heroine and takes a backseat to push her to be her best. He pursues her through her less-than-attractive times.
But as I mentioned before... that's not me.
I want to love someone who is fighting alongside me. Not just fighting for me.
Love, to me, is spoken in ...
Being the person I know I can call because things are falling apart or just because I need to talk with someone.
Inside jokes that make sense only to us and for no good reason.
Going on an adventure together and loving it.
Sitting around, cleaning the house or making dinner and still loving it.
Not having to turn on the radio while we're driving because we're busy talking about something... or nothing.
Silence because it's just comfortable being together.
Challenging me to do better at being a Christ-follower, leader and person without making me feel like I've been inadequate up until that point.
Knowing when it's okay to point out the things I'm terrible at and when to not ever bring up that failure again.
As you can see, I'm clearly a hopeless romantic.
Walks on the beach and such as.
3.27.2012
even if it stays broken.
I grew up going to church. I went to Christian school my whole life. Then to a Christian college. Now I say that I "work for Jesus" because I'm at a Christian radio station. If you look up the phrase "Christian Bubble" my life story is there. Seriously. I'll wait while you look.
That said, sometimes I feel like I've "heard it all" before. Countless pastors, conferences and professors' lectures will do that to you. So I love when a pastor can bring a story to life in a completely different way. The pieces have always been there, I just never noticed them.
This weekend it was the story of Mary, Martha and Lazarus. John 11. The book that houses the most known verse in the Bible and the shortest verse in the Bible. The pastor highlighted verses 21-25. Jesus had heard Lazarus, his friend, was sick and waited 2 days before coming to see him. Martha, the now-dead man's sister ran out to meet Jesus and give him a piece of her mind.
The pastor asked us if we could turn the corner with the grieving Martha and believe that Jesus was the One who could bring dead things to life. And if we could turn the things in our lives that seem hopeless and dead over to the One who is Resurrection. And Life.
I thought of kids, who's parents are dead or dying or abusive or on drugs or just neglectful.
I thought of my own grandmother who's aging body is quitting on her even as I write this.
I thought of friends whose broken hearts continue to keep them from seeing the awesome life that God has to offer.
I thought of myself and the mess that I've made of my own life, believing that God can use my brokenness, but still unable to forgive myself for making mistakes in the first place.
But in hopelessness and feeling like maybe nothing will be fixed in the time that I can see it, God is good. And He's still the answer that I've been looking for. He's the hope that I'm clinging onto. This "Jesus-thing"... not only do I believe it, I also know it works.
This God that I serve - He's big.
And I trust Him.
Even if things stay broken.
That said, sometimes I feel like I've "heard it all" before. Countless pastors, conferences and professors' lectures will do that to you. So I love when a pastor can bring a story to life in a completely different way. The pieces have always been there, I just never noticed them.
This weekend it was the story of Mary, Martha and Lazarus. John 11. The book that houses the most known verse in the Bible and the shortest verse in the Bible. The pastor highlighted verses 21-25. Jesus had heard Lazarus, his friend, was sick and waited 2 days before coming to see him. Martha, the now-dead man's sister ran out to meet Jesus and give him a piece of her mind.
Martha said, "Master, if you'd been here, my brother wouldn't have died. Even now, I know that whatever you ask God He will give you."Jesus said, "Your brother will be raised up."Martha replied, "I know that he will be raised up in the resurrection at the end of time.""You don't have to wait for the end. I am, right now, resurrection and life."
[the Message]
The pastor asked us if we could turn the corner with the grieving Martha and believe that Jesus was the One who could bring dead things to life. And if we could turn the things in our lives that seem hopeless and dead over to the One who is Resurrection. And Life.
I thought of kids, who's parents are dead or dying or abusive or on drugs or just neglectful.
I thought of my own grandmother who's aging body is quitting on her even as I write this.
I thought of friends whose broken hearts continue to keep them from seeing the awesome life that God has to offer.
I thought of myself and the mess that I've made of my own life, believing that God can use my brokenness, but still unable to forgive myself for making mistakes in the first place.
But in hopelessness and feeling like maybe nothing will be fixed in the time that I can see it, God is good. And He's still the answer that I've been looking for. He's the hope that I'm clinging onto. This "Jesus-thing"... not only do I believe it, I also know it works.
This God that I serve - He's big.
And I trust Him.
Even if things stay broken.
3.18.2012
addicted.
An Open Letter to Woman-kind:
I'm sitting in a coffee shop awkwardly surrounded by men with their legs crossed. Not like the normal comfortable "guy pose" but like... the way that women cross their legs. That has nothing to do with this post, but... I just needed to tell someone how uncomfortable it's making me.
Okay. Back to the letter.
We talked in my church today about addiction. And how addicts - while they want to get past their addiction - can't imagine what their life might look like if they got well. It's terrifying to think about the potential of living responsibly and in unfamiliar territory. I've never been addicted to drugs or alcohol, but I along with many of you are addicted to something else.
Being in a relationship.
It's just true. Whether we want to or not, it's so easy for women to fall into this trap forcing us to believe that we are only valuable at the arm of a man. Granted, maybe we wouldn't say it in so many words, but let's face it - the way we dress, the things we like, the places we choose to go - a lot of that is founded in the hope that some man will pay attention to us, make us feel wanted, and maybe even want to take care of us for the rest of our lives.
For awhile, we stand strong. We "date God" or whatever other way we phrase that commitment, but ultimately, many of us slip back into just wanting someone to love us. And when it doesn't happen on our timetable, we're apt to just settle for whatever guy shows interest first. Throwing away our standards, our commitments and our hopes for finding our "true soulmate."
We want to get well. We want that perfect love story in all of the movies where the hero pursues the girl with reckless abandon and everyone cries because it's so beautiful. But we're terrified to think it might not happen. Or we think that we've messed up so much that there's no way it could ever happen to us. Or we curse all men everywhere and think there are no good men left. Or all three.
So, ladies, let's all make some promises to each other:
1) We will let guys open doors, protect us when we need it, walk on the outside of the street and other gentlemanly things and thank them for it. Yes, you're capable of doing it. But, geez. Let it go. Let a guy be a gentleman.
2) We will dress modestly and protect our future men and men that are currently with other women. It's just the right thing to do.
3) We will NOT date sleazy guys and let them think that the entire female race wants to be objectified and treated like crap. They should not be able to get away with that anymore. Don't reward terrible behavior by keeping them around just because you're lonely.
4) We will remember to encourage and respect the men who are trying. We won't ask them if we "look fat" in something and we won't try to play games with them. Instead, let's communicate honestly with the men who are trying to buck the lazy, sitcom-dad trend and actually be real, responsible men.
5) We will be honest with each other, as friends/family members/neighbors. We will hold each other to a higher standard and not just affirm terrible decisions because we don't want to hurt each others' feelings. We will tell each other when the guy is a sleazeball/player and protect each other from ourselves.
Fair enough?
I'm sitting in a coffee shop awkwardly surrounded by men with their legs crossed. Not like the normal comfortable "guy pose" but like... the way that women cross their legs. That has nothing to do with this post, but... I just needed to tell someone how uncomfortable it's making me.
Okay. Back to the letter.
We talked in my church today about addiction. And how addicts - while they want to get past their addiction - can't imagine what their life might look like if they got well. It's terrifying to think about the potential of living responsibly and in unfamiliar territory. I've never been addicted to drugs or alcohol, but I along with many of you are addicted to something else.
Being in a relationship.
It's just true. Whether we want to or not, it's so easy for women to fall into this trap forcing us to believe that we are only valuable at the arm of a man. Granted, maybe we wouldn't say it in so many words, but let's face it - the way we dress, the things we like, the places we choose to go - a lot of that is founded in the hope that some man will pay attention to us, make us feel wanted, and maybe even want to take care of us for the rest of our lives.
For awhile, we stand strong. We "date God" or whatever other way we phrase that commitment, but ultimately, many of us slip back into just wanting someone to love us. And when it doesn't happen on our timetable, we're apt to just settle for whatever guy shows interest first. Throwing away our standards, our commitments and our hopes for finding our "true soulmate."
We want to get well. We want that perfect love story in all of the movies where the hero pursues the girl with reckless abandon and everyone cries because it's so beautiful. But we're terrified to think it might not happen. Or we think that we've messed up so much that there's no way it could ever happen to us. Or we curse all men everywhere and think there are no good men left. Or all three.
So, ladies, let's all make some promises to each other:
1) We will let guys open doors, protect us when we need it, walk on the outside of the street and other gentlemanly things and thank them for it. Yes, you're capable of doing it. But, geez. Let it go. Let a guy be a gentleman.
2) We will dress modestly and protect our future men and men that are currently with other women. It's just the right thing to do.
3) We will NOT date sleazy guys and let them think that the entire female race wants to be objectified and treated like crap. They should not be able to get away with that anymore. Don't reward terrible behavior by keeping them around just because you're lonely.
4) We will remember to encourage and respect the men who are trying. We won't ask them if we "look fat" in something and we won't try to play games with them. Instead, let's communicate honestly with the men who are trying to buck the lazy, sitcom-dad trend and actually be real, responsible men.
5) We will be honest with each other, as friends/family members/neighbors. We will hold each other to a higher standard and not just affirm terrible decisions because we don't want to hurt each others' feelings. We will tell each other when the guy is a sleazeball/player and protect each other from ourselves.
Fair enough?
3.09.2012
okay.
So my mom's birthday is tomorrow. I want to write a lovely post about how great she is and how she's made a huge impact on my life and I'm forever grateful.
But - by no fault of my mom - I can't.
I'm exhausted.
I don't know if it's just been a long week. Or if it's a full moon. Or if I'm not sleeping enough. Or sleeping too much. Or not eating the right things. Regardless.
I
am
tired.
I feel like I've said this to a lot of people, but I hope against hope that it's true: It's okay to not be okay.
When someone shares their heart with me and I hug them or cry with them, one of the first things they say is almost always, "it's okay." No. Clearly your sobs and brokenness tell me that it is not, in fact, okay.
And it doesn't have to be.
I hold firm to the belief that I serve a God that is big enough for me to not be okay sometimes. For me to question where His goodness is in broken lives, accidents, cancer, death, and terrible parenting. He's big enough to handle when I've been upset, thinking that He should show up and answer my prayers sooner or in a different way than He is.
I don't have a good reason for being so off this week. I don't even have a bad reason for feeling this way. I just do. Do you have weeks like that? I hope so. Otherwise this blog makes no sense.
Also - I love my mom. I'll write a nice post about her tomorrow.
But - by no fault of my mom - I can't.
I'm exhausted.
I don't know if it's just been a long week. Or if it's a full moon. Or if I'm not sleeping enough. Or sleeping too much. Or not eating the right things. Regardless.
I
am
tired.
I feel like I've said this to a lot of people, but I hope against hope that it's true: It's okay to not be okay.
When someone shares their heart with me and I hug them or cry with them, one of the first things they say is almost always, "it's okay." No. Clearly your sobs and brokenness tell me that it is not, in fact, okay.
And it doesn't have to be.
I hold firm to the belief that I serve a God that is big enough for me to not be okay sometimes. For me to question where His goodness is in broken lives, accidents, cancer, death, and terrible parenting. He's big enough to handle when I've been upset, thinking that He should show up and answer my prayers sooner or in a different way than He is.
I don't have a good reason for being so off this week. I don't even have a bad reason for feeling this way. I just do. Do you have weeks like that? I hope so. Otherwise this blog makes no sense.
Also - I love my mom. I'll write a nice post about her tomorrow.
2.27.2012
lies.
People lie. About their age. About their weight.
People also lie in beds. (sorry. lame grammar joke.)
People lie to themselves.
I had a couple great conversations today with some great women. They are the "beautiful" people. The ones that I never would have even talked to in college, let alone become friends with. I always judged "their" type, believing that "they" were judging me for my lack of makeup and terrible wardrobe. Which. They might still be. But whatever. They look past it.
Truth be told - both of them are beautiful inside and out. But they don't believe it.
Even as they read this, they're thinking "no... that's not me." "That's about someone else." "I'm not beautiful." "My life isn't semi-charmed." Please. You're so not-vain you can't believe this post is about you.
Both of them said to me in different ways today that they either can't believe that someone would ever "like-like" them (sorry for the excessive use of quotes by the way...) or they keep giving themselves to boys who aren't worth the time and effort.
They've believed the lie that they aren't valuable.
Truth is... they are both wonderful. Beautiful women. Both of them love people with a passion I wish I had. They're both caring and happy to a fault. They listen to other people's drama because they realize that it's a story and don't just roll their eyes and walk away like I do. They ask how you're doing and actually bother to listen. They are those pretty, put together girls that everyone wanted to hate, but still liked just because they were so nice you couldn't even help it.
But the most important piece of their value is that they were created. By a God that loves them and made them with purpose and on purpose. In His image. Loved. Enough that God sent His Son to die on a cross to make a way to spend eternity with them. With us.
I lie to myself about this stuff all the time too. It's easy to self-depricate and pretend that you're nothing and that you're damaged goods and not worth loving. It's why we sell ourselves short and settle so often.
It's got to stop.
Because you are valuable. You are loved. You matter.
Stop lying to yourself and realize how beautiful and loved you are. You were worth dying for.
Live like it.
People also lie in beds. (sorry. lame grammar joke.)
People lie to themselves.
I had a couple great conversations today with some great women. They are the "beautiful" people. The ones that I never would have even talked to in college, let alone become friends with. I always judged "their" type, believing that "they" were judging me for my lack of makeup and terrible wardrobe. Which. They might still be. But whatever. They look past it.
Truth be told - both of them are beautiful inside and out. But they don't believe it.
Even as they read this, they're thinking "no... that's not me." "That's about someone else." "I'm not beautiful." "My life isn't semi-charmed." Please. You're so not-vain you can't believe this post is about you.
Both of them said to me in different ways today that they either can't believe that someone would ever "like-like" them (sorry for the excessive use of quotes by the way...) or they keep giving themselves to boys who aren't worth the time and effort.
They've believed the lie that they aren't valuable.
Truth is... they are both wonderful. Beautiful women. Both of them love people with a passion I wish I had. They're both caring and happy to a fault. They listen to other people's drama because they realize that it's a story and don't just roll their eyes and walk away like I do. They ask how you're doing and actually bother to listen. They are those pretty, put together girls that everyone wanted to hate, but still liked just because they were so nice you couldn't even help it.
But the most important piece of their value is that they were created. By a God that loves them and made them with purpose and on purpose. In His image. Loved. Enough that God sent His Son to die on a cross to make a way to spend eternity with them. With us.
I lie to myself about this stuff all the time too. It's easy to self-depricate and pretend that you're nothing and that you're damaged goods and not worth loving. It's why we sell ourselves short and settle so often.
It's got to stop.
Because you are valuable. You are loved. You matter.
Stop lying to yourself and realize how beautiful and loved you are. You were worth dying for.
Live like it.
2.17.2012
middle school
Dear Middle School version of myself,
If you find this someday, that means I will have changed the very fabric of time and am significantly smarter than even my current self can believe. I don't have much time and frankly, a blog is meant to be short (so I'm told) so let's get right to the point. Here are some things you should know:
1) Be a good friend to everyone, guys and girls. It is good training on how to relate to everyone.
2) That guy who is so mean to you? Don't worry. He works for Target in the future and you work in as close to your dream job as you can get.
3) Pay attention in class - all of them. And do your best to remember what you learn, even when it seems useless. Someday it will help you talk to all kinds of people. Plus, your grown-up friends are much smarter than you are.
4) You're not as ugly or weird as you feel. Be confident that you might just be more than "the funny kid." (Otherwise you'll still be working on this at 25.)
5) You're not as funny as you think you are. You're funny, just not that funny.
6) When you lose your best friend, remember, in your sadness, that someday, you'll be able to relay that story to dozens of kids who are going through the same thing. It happens to everyone. You're not alone.
7) Guard your heart. Even when you're feeling at your loneliest. Only give it to someone who has proven they can take care of it. It'll be hard, but if you paid attention at the beginning of the list you'll have great friends around you.
8) This is the most important thing - that faith thing you're still sort of wondering about? It works. Hold onto Jesus. Even when it feels like He's not real or there, He is. He's why you ended up in a great family with great friends and teachers. It wasn't an accident. It was on purpose.
Okay. I'm off to my flying car now (that's a lie. They still haven't figured that out and it's 2012. You should work on that too).
Sincerely (because that's how your teachers have taught you to close letters and you're listening to them, right?),
-Your post-college self-
 |
| actual school photo |
1) Be a good friend to everyone, guys and girls. It is good training on how to relate to everyone.
2) That guy who is so mean to you? Don't worry. He works for Target in the future and you work in as close to your dream job as you can get.
3) Pay attention in class - all of them. And do your best to remember what you learn, even when it seems useless. Someday it will help you talk to all kinds of people. Plus, your grown-up friends are much smarter than you are.
4) You're not as ugly or weird as you feel. Be confident that you might just be more than "the funny kid." (Otherwise you'll still be working on this at 25.)
5) You're not as funny as you think you are. You're funny, just not that funny.
6) When you lose your best friend, remember, in your sadness, that someday, you'll be able to relay that story to dozens of kids who are going through the same thing. It happens to everyone. You're not alone.
7) Guard your heart. Even when you're feeling at your loneliest. Only give it to someone who has proven they can take care of it. It'll be hard, but if you paid attention at the beginning of the list you'll have great friends around you.
8) This is the most important thing - that faith thing you're still sort of wondering about? It works. Hold onto Jesus. Even when it feels like He's not real or there, He is. He's why you ended up in a great family with great friends and teachers. It wasn't an accident. It was on purpose.
Okay. I'm off to my flying car now (that's a lie. They still haven't figured that out and it's 2012. You should work on that too).
Sincerely (because that's how your teachers have taught you to close letters and you're listening to them, right?),
-Your post-college self-
2.13.2012
love.
I grew up in a conservative Christian bubble. If you look up "conservative," there's actually a picture of my town. #crazy
I remember one of my teachers telling me about the word "love" and how we say we both love God and we love chocolate chip cookies. And that we needed to be careful about how we use the word "love." So, being a good conservative Christian kid, I listened. I guarded the word "love" and didn't throw it around.
The unfortunate side-effect? I didn't tell people I loved them as much as I should.
So. It's Valentine's Day. Or... well, as I write this, it's about an hour from Valentine's Day in the Mountain Time Zone. I've bragged on the great guys I'm privileged to have in my life, so today? The ladies.
Annie - my best friend growing up. We shared all of our secrets. She's the only one I ever told about my huge crush on Justin Curatalo (that is until today). I could always count on her to be there. To sit with me in church. To answer when I called. I still miss the hours of Nickelodeon, Lisa Frank stickers and silly "futures" we used to dream up for each other.
Jess and Amber - I couldn't have asked for better high school friends. We were a good team. Amber was smart and I'm not sure I laughed harder with anyone. (And I was always jealous of her killer overhand serve.) Jess was my Skipper. My Samwise Gamgee. She always let me be the protagonist in our story and, without knowing it, her faithful cheerleading is what encouraged me to keep pushing myself.
Stacey - She got it right. My genius, bilingual roommate who was so smart, so guarded, and always took such good care of those around her. I look at her life and think - huh, that's what I could have had if I had followed God relentlessly. And whether she thinks she's done that or not, she's one of the people I hold up in my life as a success story.
Laura - So many trips to Mom and Dad's for french fries... I could never be LauraLee, but I always admired her. She didn't change for anyone. She was who she was and that was it. She loves Jesus, is great with kids and never has anyone before or since compared themselves to Reese's Pieces and had it make sense.
Ashley - Our lives have been more parallel than I could have wished on anyone. But no matter how crazy her life gets, she's always been there for me. She's thoughtful. She challenges me in ways that I hate, but love. She cares about people in a way that I wish I could. She loves with everything inside of her - something that I have benefited from when my world crashed around me.
Nicole - I'm not sure we could be more different, but somehow it works. The yin to my yang. The nail polish and pedicures to my love for football and sports talk radio. She loves fiercely. She accepts when I challenge her to step out of her comfort zone, even when she hates it. She sees the good in people and makes me hate the world less.
My Mom - The best mom I could have ever asked for. She still calls back even when I say a rash of things I don't really mean just out of frustration. She puts others first and is loyal to a fault. She wants everyone to have a chance at winning and not just the kids who have easy lives. She taught me to be generous and to love people more than things.
There are others. Women who listen to my crazy stories. Friends that I know I can always count on to make me laugh. Ladies who have shown me what it means to be a woman who isn't weak, but knows how to accept and appreciate help.
So to you, named and unnamed, in this all-too-long blog post - I love you.
I remember one of my teachers telling me about the word "love" and how we say we both love God and we love chocolate chip cookies. And that we needed to be careful about how we use the word "love." So, being a good conservative Christian kid, I listened. I guarded the word "love" and didn't throw it around.
The unfortunate side-effect? I didn't tell people I loved them as much as I should.
So. It's Valentine's Day. Or... well, as I write this, it's about an hour from Valentine's Day in the Mountain Time Zone. I've bragged on the great guys I'm privileged to have in my life, so today? The ladies.
Annie - my best friend growing up. We shared all of our secrets. She's the only one I ever told about my huge crush on Justin Curatalo (that is until today). I could always count on her to be there. To sit with me in church. To answer when I called. I still miss the hours of Nickelodeon, Lisa Frank stickers and silly "futures" we used to dream up for each other.
Jess and Amber - I couldn't have asked for better high school friends. We were a good team. Amber was smart and I'm not sure I laughed harder with anyone. (And I was always jealous of her killer overhand serve.) Jess was my Skipper. My Samwise Gamgee. She always let me be the protagonist in our story and, without knowing it, her faithful cheerleading is what encouraged me to keep pushing myself.
Stacey - She got it right. My genius, bilingual roommate who was so smart, so guarded, and always took such good care of those around her. I look at her life and think - huh, that's what I could have had if I had followed God relentlessly. And whether she thinks she's done that or not, she's one of the people I hold up in my life as a success story.
Laura - So many trips to Mom and Dad's for french fries... I could never be LauraLee, but I always admired her. She didn't change for anyone. She was who she was and that was it. She loves Jesus, is great with kids and never has anyone before or since compared themselves to Reese's Pieces and had it make sense.
Ashley - Our lives have been more parallel than I could have wished on anyone. But no matter how crazy her life gets, she's always been there for me. She's thoughtful. She challenges me in ways that I hate, but love. She cares about people in a way that I wish I could. She loves with everything inside of her - something that I have benefited from when my world crashed around me.
Nicole - I'm not sure we could be more different, but somehow it works. The yin to my yang. The nail polish and pedicures to my love for football and sports talk radio. She loves fiercely. She accepts when I challenge her to step out of her comfort zone, even when she hates it. She sees the good in people and makes me hate the world less.
My Mom - The best mom I could have ever asked for. She still calls back even when I say a rash of things I don't really mean just out of frustration. She puts others first and is loyal to a fault. She wants everyone to have a chance at winning and not just the kids who have easy lives. She taught me to be generous and to love people more than things.
There are others. Women who listen to my crazy stories. Friends that I know I can always count on to make me laugh. Ladies who have shown me what it means to be a woman who isn't weak, but knows how to accept and appreciate help.
So to you, named and unnamed, in this all-too-long blog post - I love you.
2.09.2012
made up.
We broke up almost 5 years ago and I still wear make-up. But not today. Today I was in a hurry and rolled out of the house in the most comfortable shirt and jeans that I could get away with and still be "professional" enough to be at work. Hair twisted up. And no make-up.
I don't know how this happens, but I have fairly constantly found myself being friends with "the pretty girl." They would all say something along the lines of "oh! but, Michelle! you're pretty too!" but let's get some things straight.
1) Guys don't do double takes when I walk by. Unless I've fallen down clumsily. Or am laughing loudly. (it's been known to happen on occasion)
2) Exactly 2 guys have asked me out. In my whole life. And it wasn't my looks that drew them in. For one, it was that we had been friends for a long time and I wasn't crazy, and for the other that I was a fan of the same sports teams and really sarcastic.
3) I'm a realist. I don't think I'm ugly. Really, I'm okay with just being average.
It's been a battle to realize that last one. And it's not that I'm some saint and have somehow conquered the desire to be "the pretty girl."
Every girl wants to hear that she is beautiful.
(and NOT just from her female friends who are well-meaning, but not always truthful.)
But if I'm being real with myself, I don't want to be beautiful because of how I look.
I would rather be noticed for
loving kids
being a good friend
following Jesus
doing something well at my job
having a good sense of humor
or showing compassion for the hurting.
And yeah, sometimes, I'm about as good at those things as I am at putting on make-up. (Have I mentioned that I'm really clueless when it comes to wearing make-up? Because I totally am.)
But I think I'll practice perfecting those qualities instead of mascara.
(and mascara is just straight up gross to put on.)
2.06.2012
more than sports.
Yes. I am excited - beyond that really - that my 9-7 Giants won a must win against the Dallas Cowboys, took out the near-flawless Green Bay Packers, got vengeance for an earlier season loss to the San Fransisco 49ers for the NFC Championship and then brought down the (evil empire) mighty, mighty Patriots.
Yes. I love being Superbowl champs again.
Yes. I am wearing my Eli Manning jersey for the 3rd victory Monday of the playoffs.
Yes. It desperately needs to be washed.
But no. Sports are not my life.
Sports are a jumping off point. An easy starter to a conversation that can go so much deeper. They're a way to connect with middle school kids, their parents, random strangers behind you in line at the grocery store and the guy that directs traffic at church Sunday mornings.
But at the end of the day, I missed the national anthem, kick-off, and first quarter of "my team" playing in the Superbowl in exchange for time with friends, cutting vegetables and mixing a super-secret-family-recipe veggie dip.
People are more important than things. Even sports. Even the Superbowl.
Though, that doesn't mean I'm not still stoked to be champs again this year.
Yes. I love being Superbowl champs again.
Yes. I am wearing my Eli Manning jersey for the 3rd victory Monday of the playoffs.
Yes. It desperately needs to be washed.
But no. Sports are not my life.
Sports are a jumping off point. An easy starter to a conversation that can go so much deeper. They're a way to connect with middle school kids, their parents, random strangers behind you in line at the grocery store and the guy that directs traffic at church Sunday mornings.
But at the end of the day, I missed the national anthem, kick-off, and first quarter of "my team" playing in the Superbowl in exchange for time with friends, cutting vegetables and mixing a super-secret-family-recipe veggie dip.
People are more important than things. Even sports. Even the Superbowl.
Though, that doesn't mean I'm not still stoked to be champs again this year.
1.27.2012
dad.
Saturday is my dad's birthday. I might have gotten him a birthday present on Monday and failed to mail it out until today. Today is Friday. No. My dad will not be receiving his gift on time. I'm not sure he's gotten an on time gift for Father's Day or his birthday since... well. A long time.
My dad is a good man.
I remember him going out late to work on substations during thunderstorms and being scared in my room until he came home. Not that our town of 800 people wasn't safe. It just felt safer when he was home.
I remember the first time he showed me how to program the game "Mastermind" in C++ on our computer and how proud he was of me for basically just doing what he said to do. But I remember that I felt like a genius the first time we played it.
I remember my senior prom. I had a red dress that I found for $35 at DEB and I was SUPER excited about it. My dad looked at me and told me that I was just beautiful and I looked like a princess.
I remember when he was talking of his buddies who only has sons. My dad felt sorry for him because my dad's friend would never get the pride and privilege of walking a daughter down the aisle. My dad, who fought in the Vietnam War and is possibly one of the smartest people I know, said his proudest moment was getting to walk my sister down the aisle.
I remember how he called me, heart-broken, worried about how I was doing the day I left my house for good and the life as I formerly knew it was over. And how he told me anything I needed, he would do it.
I've seen the effects of having a bad father or no father on some of the girls that I've worked with over the years, but I forget a lot to tell my dad how much I love him and how much I appreciate that he was there. At every basketball game. At all of my figure skating tournaments, surrounded by crazy moms and a lot of hairspray. He was there when my volleyball team won the championship and I made the all-star team. He was there when we got crushed by 30 in the final and I never wanted to play basketball again.
So happy birthday, Dad. I love you.
(and sorry your present is late. again.)
My dad is a good man.
I remember him going out late to work on substations during thunderstorms and being scared in my room until he came home. Not that our town of 800 people wasn't safe. It just felt safer when he was home.
I remember the first time he showed me how to program the game "Mastermind" in C++ on our computer and how proud he was of me for basically just doing what he said to do. But I remember that I felt like a genius the first time we played it.
I remember my senior prom. I had a red dress that I found for $35 at DEB and I was SUPER excited about it. My dad looked at me and told me that I was just beautiful and I looked like a princess.
I remember when he was talking of his buddies who only has sons. My dad felt sorry for him because my dad's friend would never get the pride and privilege of walking a daughter down the aisle. My dad, who fought in the Vietnam War and is possibly one of the smartest people I know, said his proudest moment was getting to walk my sister down the aisle.
I remember how he called me, heart-broken, worried about how I was doing the day I left my house for good and the life as I formerly knew it was over. And how he told me anything I needed, he would do it.
I've seen the effects of having a bad father or no father on some of the girls that I've worked with over the years, but I forget a lot to tell my dad how much I love him and how much I appreciate that he was there. At every basketball game. At all of my figure skating tournaments, surrounded by crazy moms and a lot of hairspray. He was there when my volleyball team won the championship and I made the all-star team. He was there when we got crushed by 30 in the final and I never wanted to play basketball again.
So happy birthday, Dad. I love you.
(and sorry your present is late. again.)
1.22.2012
protected.
I don't like to admit this much (so the appropriate place to talk about this is definitely on the internets), but I am scared. I can't watch shows like Criminal Minds and Law and Order: SVU or any scary movie because I don't sleep well afterwards. I've become a light sleeper, worried about every little noise.
The experience of being threatened physically is pretty horrifying. Especially when it comes from someone who is supposed to love you and protect you.
So this weekend, when the pastor said:
Love means protecting and providing.
It hit me.
I was sitting between two of my best friends and I realized how grateful I was to both of them for the way that they have - probably unknowingly - protected me.
They hold doors.
They drive because I hate it.
They put in drywall anchors even if it will be the death of them.
They cook dinner with me.
They come over to be around when I'm really just being paranoid.
They challenge me to be a better woman, a better leader, a better Christ-follower.
I write a lot when things are bad. How tough life is. How God must still be good in all of it. And I forget a lot to see God when He's showing up so clearly in my life.
So today, I'm just grateful.
And feeling protected.
The experience of being threatened physically is pretty horrifying. Especially when it comes from someone who is supposed to love you and protect you.
So this weekend, when the pastor said:
Love means protecting and providing.
It hit me.
I was sitting between two of my best friends and I realized how grateful I was to both of them for the way that they have - probably unknowingly - protected me.
They hold doors.
They drive because I hate it.
They put in drywall anchors even if it will be the death of them.
They cook dinner with me.
They come over to be around when I'm really just being paranoid.
They challenge me to be a better woman, a better leader, a better Christ-follower.
I write a lot when things are bad. How tough life is. How God must still be good in all of it. And I forget a lot to see God when He's showing up so clearly in my life.
So today, I'm just grateful.
And feeling protected.
1.16.2012
listen.
Growing up, I wasn't a very good listener. It's probably what inspired me to talk for a living. Because I talked. A lot.
I remember when my Sunday School teacher told us that God had given us two ears and one mouth so that we would listen twice as much as we talk. I think she might have been right.
My grandmother told me the other day:
...Everything that she cooked for Christmas dinner
...What everyone else brought for dinner
...How much was leftover
...What she did with the leftovers
...How she made the leftovers
...And that this "pizza thing"... it's really catching on.
My 6th grade girls have told me:
...About this boy that is SO cute
...About her teacher and how she hates her
...The times she has gotten in trouble for what she was wearing
...Stuff that happened on family vacation
...About her lizard
...The coolest places she has Tebow-ed
...That her parents told her once they wish she'd never been born
...That social services could be coming tomorrow
...That her mom was in a surgery that went fine, but scared her a lot
They don't want advice.
They don't even really need me to be able to relate.
They just need to get it out there so that they can be heard.
We all want to be heard.
In a world of so much social networking and communication, what all of these kids, my grandmother, my friends and all of us want is for someone to listen to us. To hear how our day went. To vent frustrations. To share ridiculous stories.
I might still not be a very good listener. But I want to be. Because ... well, there are a lot of people in my life who have way better stories than I do.
I remember when my Sunday School teacher told us that God had given us two ears and one mouth so that we would listen twice as much as we talk. I think she might have been right.
My grandmother told me the other day:
...Everything that she cooked for Christmas dinner
...What everyone else brought for dinner
...How much was leftover
...What she did with the leftovers
...How she made the leftovers
...And that this "pizza thing"... it's really catching on.
My 6th grade girls have told me:
...About this boy that is SO cute
...About her teacher and how she hates her
...The times she has gotten in trouble for what she was wearing
...Stuff that happened on family vacation
...About her lizard
...The coolest places she has Tebow-ed
...That her parents told her once they wish she'd never been born
...That social services could be coming tomorrow
...That her mom was in a surgery that went fine, but scared her a lot
They don't want advice.
They don't even really need me to be able to relate.
They just need to get it out there so that they can be heard.
We all want to be heard.
In a world of so much social networking and communication, what all of these kids, my grandmother, my friends and all of us want is for someone to listen to us. To hear how our day went. To vent frustrations. To share ridiculous stories.
I might still not be a very good listener. But I want to be. Because ... well, there are a lot of people in my life who have way better stories than I do.
1.08.2012
men.
At church today, we were asked if we could think of 5 men who were great men. I realized, I am privileged to have been surrounded by some great men in my life and I'm not sure I've ever thanked them or let them know how much they've meant to me.
Pastor Butler
He was quite possibly the biggest influencer in who I am today. He challenged me as a leader. To be better. To dream big. And to do things that had never even been thought of before. He inspired confidence and helped me to make my faith my own. (and taught important lessons on Helen Keller.)
Dan
At first, I wasn't really sure what to think about this guy who just seemed well, not that friendly. But he became one of my greatest friends - one of the few people that I'd ever met who thinks like me. I admired his drive. And his passion for accomplishing whatever he set his mind to.
David
He was the only person in college who spanned all of the same interests I had. We did ministry, church, the radio station and even volleyball together. I heard about his heartbreaks and he listened when I wasn't sure what was going on in my heart. We spent a lot of time driving back to our hometowns together, searching for Wendy's and is currently a great husband to an awesome woman. (even if he is a NASCAR fan)
Nate
I've never met anyone like him. He isn't afraid to be open about what he's feeling. He's honest. And cares deeply for his friends and the kids he's invested his life in. He is quick to compliment and slow to criticize. In tough situations, he handles himself with poise and has always been a first responder when things in my world get turned upside down.
Tucker
Charisma. I can't think of a more appropriate word than that. I've never met someone more admired by the people around him than this guy. Kids want to be him, including doing crazy sports like cross country, just to be like him. He's steady and when I felt like things were falling apart, this man that I'd only known for a matter of months, was first on scene and has been ever since.
I know there are others that I'm forgetting.
A teacher who took in a high schooler who had nowhere else to go
Profs and pastors who constantly challenged my way of thinking
Friends who were always there, stayed up late, listened to me rant and protected me well.
While I've witnessed a good amount of men who haven't been good friends, dads, or husbands, I'm grateful that I can say I've also been surrounded by some great men, fantastic teachers and excellent friends.
Good. Men.
So if you feel like you've been trying your best to be a good man, know this - the women in your life likely see it. And are so appreciative.
Pastor Butler
He was quite possibly the biggest influencer in who I am today. He challenged me as a leader. To be better. To dream big. And to do things that had never even been thought of before. He inspired confidence and helped me to make my faith my own. (and taught important lessons on Helen Keller.)
Dan
At first, I wasn't really sure what to think about this guy who just seemed well, not that friendly. But he became one of my greatest friends - one of the few people that I'd ever met who thinks like me. I admired his drive. And his passion for accomplishing whatever he set his mind to.
David
He was the only person in college who spanned all of the same interests I had. We did ministry, church, the radio station and even volleyball together. I heard about his heartbreaks and he listened when I wasn't sure what was going on in my heart. We spent a lot of time driving back to our hometowns together, searching for Wendy's and is currently a great husband to an awesome woman. (even if he is a NASCAR fan)
Nate
I've never met anyone like him. He isn't afraid to be open about what he's feeling. He's honest. And cares deeply for his friends and the kids he's invested his life in. He is quick to compliment and slow to criticize. In tough situations, he handles himself with poise and has always been a first responder when things in my world get turned upside down.
Tucker
Charisma. I can't think of a more appropriate word than that. I've never met someone more admired by the people around him than this guy. Kids want to be him, including doing crazy sports like cross country, just to be like him. He's steady and when I felt like things were falling apart, this man that I'd only known for a matter of months, was first on scene and has been ever since.
I know there are others that I'm forgetting.
A teacher who took in a high schooler who had nowhere else to go
Profs and pastors who constantly challenged my way of thinking
Friends who were always there, stayed up late, listened to me rant and protected me well.
While I've witnessed a good amount of men who haven't been good friends, dads, or husbands, I'm grateful that I can say I've also been surrounded by some great men, fantastic teachers and excellent friends.
Good. Men.
So if you feel like you've been trying your best to be a good man, know this - the women in your life likely see it. And are so appreciative.
1.07.2012
1.06.2012
first world problems.
except possibly slugs. ugh. slugs.
1.05.2012
the axel.
I've been on figure skates for as long as I can remember. I started taking lessons when I was 8 with the goal of becoming the one, the only, Kristi Yamuguchi. (and later Michelle Kwan. She was Asian and had my name. It was like... fate!)
Last night I got to re-live a little of my childhood and skate. And impress the heck out of some 11-year old girls who had no idea that when I was their age, I was dreaming of being an Olympic figure skater.
A 4-year old girl was watching me spin and the look on her face told me that she thought that was the best thing anyone could ever do on figure skates. She doesn't know that I'm a quitter who wasn't committed enough or daring enough to really be anything great.
I was too scared of falling.
When I first started, I flew past all of the other kids. The moves were easy for me so while my friends faltered and fell, I was always the confident one who passed the tests with flying colors. Until the axel.
An axel is a jump that takes off on a forward outside edge (the only jump that begins forward). You to do a turn-and-a-half rotation in the air before landing backwards on your quarter-inch blade. It's the last single that you learn, and it's the jump that I could not master.
You have to get a certain amount of height if you hope to make the rotation necessary to land it and that height only comes when you put everything you have into it.
And that means you're really trying.
And you might fail.
So you might really fail.
It took me a couple of tries to master all the other jumps. The axel I worked on for almost an entire year and I only landed it shakily a handful of times. I didn't risk enough to actually do it.
I catch myself living life that way too.
And I don't want to live like that anymore.
After a lot of broken relationships - friends and boyfriends - it's scary to jump in and risk the most important thing I have - my heart. But I also don't think we were meant to do life alone. I realize, I'm getting to a point where I can't just be "half-committed" in my relationships.
It's a risk.
And it's terrifying.
But... finally... I really want to land it.
Last night I got to re-live a little of my childhood and skate. And impress the heck out of some 11-year old girls who had no idea that when I was their age, I was dreaming of being an Olympic figure skater.
I was too scared of falling.
When I first started, I flew past all of the other kids. The moves were easy for me so while my friends faltered and fell, I was always the confident one who passed the tests with flying colors. Until the axel.
An axel is a jump that takes off on a forward outside edge (the only jump that begins forward). You to do a turn-and-a-half rotation in the air before landing backwards on your quarter-inch blade. It's the last single that you learn, and it's the jump that I could not master.
You have to get a certain amount of height if you hope to make the rotation necessary to land it and that height only comes when you put everything you have into it.
And that means you're really trying.
And you might fail.
So you might really fail.
It took me a couple of tries to master all the other jumps. The axel I worked on for almost an entire year and I only landed it shakily a handful of times. I didn't risk enough to actually do it.
I catch myself living life that way too.
And I don't want to live like that anymore.
After a lot of broken relationships - friends and boyfriends - it's scary to jump in and risk the most important thing I have - my heart. But I also don't think we were meant to do life alone. I realize, I'm getting to a point where I can't just be "half-committed" in my relationships.
It's a risk.
And it's terrifying.
But... finally... I really want to land it.
1.04.2012
single.
I had an epiphany the other day. And it was a good one.
I'm single.
And I'm okay.
Holidays seem to bring out people who want to catch up who you haven't seen in forever so I've been answering the cautiously-asked "so... how are you doing?" question a lot lately. I try to give an honest answer because that's what I hope that people give me. After a decent amount of consideration, I realized, I'm good. Really.
I finally don't have all the hurt, ill-will and guilt weighing me down that I had this summer.
In fact, I feel free.
This is not to say that somehow I have conquered the desire to someday be married and have a family. Or that magically the feelings that I'm not good enough or pretty enough to ever catch someone's attention have disappeared. Or that I don't catch myself in feelings of jealousy (and subsequently inferiority) over stupid things - like when my friends meet handsome strangers on planes or when being blonde and mostly ditzy is more desirable than being Asian and actually knowing what you're talking about.
But it is that I've been on my own for 8 months.
...taking out the trash every Tuesday night
...emptying mouse traps when necessary
...changing my own windshield wipers
...figuring out how to fix my own wireless router issues
...moving furniture
...killing moths or whatever other bug decides that my house is its new home
...and opening my own jars (mostly)
This isn't the road I would have chosen to get here. Mostly I wish that I could have listened to God, guarded my heart and had "happily ever after." But I'm glad to know that I serve the kind of God who takes a mess and can still make a masterpiece.
Wow. Sorry. That last line is cheesy.
I'm single.
And I'm okay.
Holidays seem to bring out people who want to catch up who you haven't seen in forever so I've been answering the cautiously-asked "so... how are you doing?" question a lot lately. I try to give an honest answer because that's what I hope that people give me. After a decent amount of consideration, I realized, I'm good. Really.
I finally don't have all the hurt, ill-will and guilt weighing me down that I had this summer.
In fact, I feel free.
This is not to say that somehow I have conquered the desire to someday be married and have a family. Or that magically the feelings that I'm not good enough or pretty enough to ever catch someone's attention have disappeared. Or that I don't catch myself in feelings of jealousy (and subsequently inferiority) over stupid things - like when my friends meet handsome strangers on planes or when being blonde and mostly ditzy is more desirable than being Asian and actually knowing what you're talking about.
But it is that I've been on my own for 8 months.
...taking out the trash every Tuesday night
...emptying mouse traps when necessary
...changing my own windshield wipers
...figuring out how to fix my own wireless router issues
...moving furniture
...killing moths or whatever other bug decides that my house is its new home
...and opening my own jars (mostly)
This isn't the road I would have chosen to get here. Mostly I wish that I could have listened to God, guarded my heart and had "happily ever after." But I'm glad to know that I serve the kind of God who takes a mess and can still make a masterpiece.
Wow. Sorry. That last line is cheesy.
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