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.

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.

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?

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.