Promise me, O women of Jerusalem, by the gazelles and wild deer, not to awaken love until the time is right. (Song of Songs 3:5 NLT)
Dating. Kissing. Marriage. Sex. Babies.
In that order, please. Come to me, husband.
Have you ever read the Song of Songs? Wow, it's pretty hot. I mean, who thought Solomon could write this and get away with it in THE BIBLE (!!!) :
"Your thighs shelter a paradise of pomegranates with rare spices— henna with nard..." Song of Songs 4:13
-at which the young woman responds:
"...Blow on my garden and spread its fragrance all around. Come into your garden, my love; taste its finest fruits." Song of Songs 4:16
Ummm, I'm no theologian, but I'm not sure I need my expository to figure out what they're telling each other. ...if ya know what I mean.
Let's get real. I'm 24 years old. We're supposed to be in our prime!! Where are all the good men? (I know that sounds cliche, but for reals...)
Bottom line is that, I'm waiting. I've actually been waiting. ...and waiting. And I guess I'll keep waiting. (It's not like there's actually anything I can do about the matter except...well, wait it out.)
I pray that whoever the Lord has designated to be blessed by me (sarcasm...), will come along in the right time. There is still much healing that my heart needs. And God has gently reminded me of that.
I want a dynamic marriage. I want to marry my best friend. I don't want perfection, I want someone to do life with. And life gets messy. And pasts are messy. My past is messy. I can love regardless. I want a man of God who loves deeply and leads valiantly and pursues diligently. I want to be a wife who walks beside him, loves him, and submits honorably. And I want to be a Mom that he has envisioned for his children, a mom to my kids and kids birthed by others...
I'll wait for that. And I trust that married life will be as hot as Solomon and his lover write about in the Song of Songs.
Here's to us, single people!
You're legit. Worth waiting for. You're gorgeous. You're handsome. You're hot. Your value is way more than rubies. And you have a LOT to offer the opposite sex someday.
Press on!
Thursday, March 28, 2013
Sunday, March 24, 2013
is love enough?
James 1:22-27
But don’t just listen to God’s word. You must do what it says. Otherwise, you are only fooling yourselves. For if you listen to the word and don’t obey, it is like glancing at your face in a mirror. You see yourself, walk away, and forget what you look like. But if you look carefully into the perfect law that sets you free, and if you do what it says and don’t forget what you heard, then God will bless you for doing it.If you claim to be religious but don’t control your tongue, you are fooling yourself, and your religion is worthless. Pure and genuine religion in the sight of God the Father means caring for orphans and widows in their distress and refusing to let the world corrupt you.
I have read the book of James many times over my life. But as we know well, the Word of God is alive and sharper than a two edged sword and often it carves a new creation on our hearts.
This morning, I was reading and seeking God's voice. I skipped church because I just didn't feel like fighting with snow and my warm bed was too comfy to leave.
As I read this passage in James, I had to really ask myself some questions. First, "Do I do what God's word says to do?" "Do I control my tongue?" "Do I really care for orphans and widows in their distress?"
My heart is good and intentional, but my arms and legs (and tongue and wallet) often fall short. For the last couple of weeks, I have been caught up in the grace of God. But I have to ask myself this morning, "Am I placing bets on grace? Can't grace just carry me on?"
I'm not religious, and I'm not legalistic. But, am I truly living like Jesus asks me to?
I drink alcohol (often), I use cuss words, and I listen to "Thrift Shop" by Macklemore & Ryan Lewis. I got a tattoo and intend on getting more. I don't pay tithes (honest) and I skip church... often. I talk a lot about caring for the orphans. I wrestle in sin and it usually wins.
But, I love. I love deeply. Is that enough?
It's not.
James 2:20, "Can't you see that faith without good deeds is useless?"
I know it's not about works, but...it's about works.
Eh. I have questions.
Wednesday, March 13, 2013
scandalous grace
do you struggle with the concept of grace?
do you wrestle with the belief that God holds the balance of grace and justice in perfect harmony?
do you accept His grace?
do you believe He longs to bestow it upon you?
When I chose to open my eyes and gaze into the ugly of my sin, I became fully aware of how unworthy I am to be a recipient of God's grace. because grace is for those who sin "little" sins. grace is for those who tell "white lies" and quietly mutter disdain under their breath. grace is only for those who are worthy of receiving it. grace is for those who don't return to their sin. grace is for the perfect.
if I am aware of my shortcomings, how much more is God aware of my failings. how can a God who is whole and holy and worthy and perfect possibly give such a sinner His graciousness.
it is hard for me not to view God watching me in disgust. looking down from the beauty that is Heaven and shaking His head at my ridiculousness. I anticipate that He will open His mouth and spew judgment on my mind of wrath and heart of resistance. the Bible speaks of Him both as grace-giving and a judge.
is it possible for me to know which stance He will take with me? how does He view me? is He disappointed in me?
Romans 2:6, "He will judge everyone according to what they have done."
and
Ephesians 1:6, "So we praise God for the glorious grace he has poured out on us who belong to his dear Son."
do you wrestle with the belief that God holds the balance of grace and justice in perfect harmony?
do you accept His grace?
do you believe He longs to bestow it upon you?
When I chose to open my eyes and gaze into the ugly of my sin, I became fully aware of how unworthy I am to be a recipient of God's grace. because grace is for those who sin "little" sins. grace is for those who tell "white lies" and quietly mutter disdain under their breath. grace is only for those who are worthy of receiving it. grace is for those who don't return to their sin. grace is for the perfect.
if I am aware of my shortcomings, how much more is God aware of my failings. how can a God who is whole and holy and worthy and perfect possibly give such a sinner His graciousness.
it is hard for me not to view God watching me in disgust. looking down from the beauty that is Heaven and shaking His head at my ridiculousness. I anticipate that He will open His mouth and spew judgment on my mind of wrath and heart of resistance. the Bible speaks of Him both as grace-giving and a judge.
is it possible for me to know which stance He will take with me? how does He view me? is He disappointed in me?
Romans 2:6, "He will judge everyone according to what they have done."
and
Ephesians 1:6, "So we praise God for the glorious grace he has poured out on us who belong to his dear Son."
which is it? because much like Paul, I find that even though in my deep I desire to do good, I so often do wrong.
I struggle with the concept of grace. I wrestle with believing that God truly holds a perfect balance between grace and judgment. I don't always accept grace. I believe that God would rather pour out wrath of judgment on me than lavish me in grace.
grace is a scandalous thing.
most incomprehensible.
what are your thoughts on the subject of grace? what has God taught you throughout your journey? do you wrestle with the same things I do? have you grown in understanding of grace through your struggle? if so, please share...
Friday, March 8, 2013
twenty.four.
What a brilliant day. The sun was shining warmly and flip flops donned my feet; time for pedicures again!
Birthday.
I was oddly excited for it this year. twenty.three. was just a hard year. I wrote a blog recently about this year being one of "recovery". (You can visit it if you click on the link.) In that blog, I spoke of my upcoming birthday and about how I was praying and believing that my twenty.fourth. year would be so much better than my twenty.third.
This day, I remembered where my heart was one year ago. Let's just say that it was certainly not where it is today. My heart was hurting so deeply that even I could not see the depth of the ache. However, there were people in my life who recognized it and called it out. Many of you have watched me top mountains to hopelessly land in valleys moments later. Yet, you've loved me unconditionally. Though my twenty.third. year was horrific in many ways, it was a year in which the Lord taught me of relentless love.
He has displayed it through you.
James 5:19-20 says, "My dear brothers and sisters, if someone among you wanders away from the truth and is brought back, you can be sure that whoever brings the sinner back will save that person from death and bring about the forgiveness of many sins."
I declare that twenty.four. is going to be an amazing year. While continuing in recovery, the Lord is stitching and healing and creating something beautiful. Romans 8:28 tells me, "And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God..."
I wish that I could express through words or gifts how much you mean to me. There is simply not a word that defines the deep gratitude and love my heart feels for you and all that you've sacrificed to love me through. There is not a gift that can show thankfulness for the late night talks, the hugs, the notes, the messages, the dinners, the coffees...
You know who you are. Every day, I'm paying it forward. Jesus in you. Jesus in me. This world will change. Babies will be rescued. Children will be set in families. Hearts will turn toward the Savior. The unloved will be loved. The angry will find rest. The stressed will find peace. The hurting will find healing.
My twenty.fourth. will not be silent.
My twenty.fourth. will be resilient.
Birthday.
I was oddly excited for it this year. twenty.three. was just a hard year. I wrote a blog recently about this year being one of "recovery". (You can visit it if you click on the link.) In that blog, I spoke of my upcoming birthday and about how I was praying and believing that my twenty.fourth. year would be so much better than my twenty.third.
This day, I remembered where my heart was one year ago. Let's just say that it was certainly not where it is today. My heart was hurting so deeply that even I could not see the depth of the ache. However, there were people in my life who recognized it and called it out. Many of you have watched me top mountains to hopelessly land in valleys moments later. Yet, you've loved me unconditionally. Though my twenty.third. year was horrific in many ways, it was a year in which the Lord taught me of relentless love.
He has displayed it through you.
James 5:19-20 says, "My dear brothers and sisters, if someone among you wanders away from the truth and is brought back, you can be sure that whoever brings the sinner back will save that person from death and bring about the forgiveness of many sins."
I declare that twenty.four. is going to be an amazing year. While continuing in recovery, the Lord is stitching and healing and creating something beautiful. Romans 8:28 tells me, "And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God..."
I wish that I could express through words or gifts how much you mean to me. There is simply not a word that defines the deep gratitude and love my heart feels for you and all that you've sacrificed to love me through. There is not a gift that can show thankfulness for the late night talks, the hugs, the notes, the messages, the dinners, the coffees...
You know who you are. Every day, I'm paying it forward. Jesus in you. Jesus in me. This world will change. Babies will be rescued. Children will be set in families. Hearts will turn toward the Savior. The unloved will be loved. The angry will find rest. The stressed will find peace. The hurting will find healing.
My twenty.fourth. will not be silent.
My twenty.fourth. will be resilient.
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
unclean
I am such a sinner.
...like, seriously.
sinner.
be careful if you think you are standing, because >BAM< you find yourself eating the concrete, searching for your glasses because you can't see anything, and your once white pants are soaked in the muddy puddle.
for me, it happens suddenly. my hands will be in the air worshipping the God I claim as my own, and the next thing they're spelling words they shouldn't be. sin is alluring. sin is tempting. sin is fun. and in the moment, nothing matters except keeping the attention.
but afterward, you feel like shit about yourself. because our hearts are not created to withstand what is harmful to us. but often sin is placed in a form that makes it feel impossible to resist.
a tiny pinch of it begs us leaving for more and more and before long you've lost sight. the glasses are nowhere to be found, and all sense of clarity in your mind has left you. all that matters is the next hit of whatever makes you feel good, so you chase more of it. and in your chase, something causes you to trip, and then you're crawling on the ground sucked into the irresistible. the rest on the ground feels initially nice so you just stay awhile.
meanwhile, something weighted seems to be keeping you from moving as freely as before. slightly panicked, you attempt to rise, only to realize you're pinned...and it's dark outside, the noises are not calming, and the ground is getting cooler.
stay with me...I'm just painting a picture of what happens to me when I dabble in the sin that so often entices me.
he is charming, and he is manipulative.
sin separates me from the God I reach out my hands to. not because He doesn't love me, but because I've chosen darkness over light. ...once again.
but I still walk through the church doors, and I shake the hand of the person beside me and I smile and I fool them. I fool me.
I contemplate communion. my hands don't deserve to touch it. I am too unclean. like a leper. I should be confined to the outer walls of the city, unable to commune with people of God. because I am a sinner. unclean.
then Grace happens. a scandalous thing it is. Grace takes my leprous hands, places the bread and wine into them. I push it away, "Don't you know what I've done..." Grace nods His head and pushes the elements back into my grip.
I take you back. I will always take you back. Commune with me.
The weights on the body loosen, Grace hands you back your sight, and helps you to your feet.
"Hang out with me..." Grace says, "Let me walk with you..."
...like, seriously.
sinner.
be careful if you think you are standing, because >BAM< you find yourself eating the concrete, searching for your glasses because you can't see anything, and your once white pants are soaked in the muddy puddle.
for me, it happens suddenly. my hands will be in the air worshipping the God I claim as my own, and the next thing they're spelling words they shouldn't be. sin is alluring. sin is tempting. sin is fun. and in the moment, nothing matters except keeping the attention.
but afterward, you feel like shit about yourself. because our hearts are not created to withstand what is harmful to us. but often sin is placed in a form that makes it feel impossible to resist.
a tiny pinch of it begs us leaving for more and more and before long you've lost sight. the glasses are nowhere to be found, and all sense of clarity in your mind has left you. all that matters is the next hit of whatever makes you feel good, so you chase more of it. and in your chase, something causes you to trip, and then you're crawling on the ground sucked into the irresistible. the rest on the ground feels initially nice so you just stay awhile.
meanwhile, something weighted seems to be keeping you from moving as freely as before. slightly panicked, you attempt to rise, only to realize you're pinned...and it's dark outside, the noises are not calming, and the ground is getting cooler.
stay with me...I'm just painting a picture of what happens to me when I dabble in the sin that so often entices me.
he is charming, and he is manipulative.
sin separates me from the God I reach out my hands to. not because He doesn't love me, but because I've chosen darkness over light. ...once again.
but I still walk through the church doors, and I shake the hand of the person beside me and I smile and I fool them. I fool me.
I contemplate communion. my hands don't deserve to touch it. I am too unclean. like a leper. I should be confined to the outer walls of the city, unable to commune with people of God. because I am a sinner. unclean.
then Grace happens. a scandalous thing it is. Grace takes my leprous hands, places the bread and wine into them. I push it away, "Don't you know what I've done..." Grace nods His head and pushes the elements back into my grip.
I take you back. I will always take you back. Commune with me.
The weights on the body loosen, Grace hands you back your sight, and helps you to your feet.
"Hang out with me..." Grace says, "Let me walk with you..."
Monday, February 25, 2013
babies, lies, and stories...
I check my Facebook page often... Okay, way too often. Don't you? I changed my cover photo a couple days ago, and now every time that I open my page up, I see a hand stretched out in front of a person's face and written on her palm are the words, "YOU ARE GOOD ENOUGH." Ever single time I read the words, there's a part of my heart that beats a little faster.
It's a question I've asked often over my twenty-three years... Not that I had the worst childhood, but there were parts that were incredibly difficult. One thing that has consistently lacked for many of my days is a legitimately good and healthy relationship with my parents. My dad was 21 and my mother was 20 when I, an eight pound, thirteen ounce baby girl was delivered into their world. I can only imagine the thoughts that went through their mind, "What the heck are we supposed to do with this?" I know that is probably what I would think as a 20 year old. They had been married a short 13 months before I changed their entire world. I obviously do not remember the first couple years of my life, and by that time, my little sister had arrived. Shortly thereafter, I was five years old, and then came my baby sister. She was born on March 4th, and came home from the hospital on my fifth birthday, March 7th. I remember the drive home in our long blue car with hot cloth seats. I did not want her to come home with us. Primarily because my mother told me that she was my birthday present. Who wants a live, crying baby for their birthday? Um, not me. (Fortunately, when we got home, some sweet friends had brought a Barney backpack to me for my birthday...and I loved it.)
A few years after my baby sister came home, my mother began to struggle emotionally. She was depressed most every day and her involvement in our lives became more difficult because of how she felt. Although I think she still loved us a lot, she distanced from us. As a kiddo, I just thought that if I could do something more and act more grown up, that it would make her happy. Often, it did make her proud of me. (And other adults in my life always complimented me because of how grown up I acted...so I just kept it up.) I did it so that my mom would be happy and spend time with us. If there was one thing my mother loved, it was a stunningly clean and meticulously organized house. Still does! But, when it didn't always work; when clean didn't always make her happy, she stayed depressed...and distant. So, I worked harder... and the lesson I learned (whether my mother thought this way or not...) was that I simply wasn't good enough; that I couldn't do enough for her to be happy. There was nothing that I could do to make her smile at me and spend more time with me. So, I stopped trying and I just internalized that lie..."You are not good enough."
We all have our stories. We all have those thoughts that are destructive. We all have lies that we have believed. And acknowledging that it is indeed a lie, doesn't necessarily mean you stop believing it. It takes a lot of work to disable the lie that becomes lodged as truth in your heart. I'm too much. I'm not good enough. You don't really love me. If only I was prettier. If only I was thinner. I should be smarter than this. Did I mention, I'm too much.?
I have believed and still believe at times, all of those lies. It's a process to replace a lie with the truth.
We all struggle and we struggle because of various things. Remember that you have a story, and be aware of the people around you. They have stories, too. They have tough stuff that has happened to them in their lifetime. Be compassionate and patient.
It's a question I've asked often over my twenty-three years... Not that I had the worst childhood, but there were parts that were incredibly difficult. One thing that has consistently lacked for many of my days is a legitimately good and healthy relationship with my parents. My dad was 21 and my mother was 20 when I, an eight pound, thirteen ounce baby girl was delivered into their world. I can only imagine the thoughts that went through their mind, "What the heck are we supposed to do with this?" I know that is probably what I would think as a 20 year old. They had been married a short 13 months before I changed their entire world. I obviously do not remember the first couple years of my life, and by that time, my little sister had arrived. Shortly thereafter, I was five years old, and then came my baby sister. She was born on March 4th, and came home from the hospital on my fifth birthday, March 7th. I remember the drive home in our long blue car with hot cloth seats. I did not want her to come home with us. Primarily because my mother told me that she was my birthday present. Who wants a live, crying baby for their birthday? Um, not me. (Fortunately, when we got home, some sweet friends had brought a Barney backpack to me for my birthday...and I loved it.)
A few years after my baby sister came home, my mother began to struggle emotionally. She was depressed most every day and her involvement in our lives became more difficult because of how she felt. Although I think she still loved us a lot, she distanced from us. As a kiddo, I just thought that if I could do something more and act more grown up, that it would make her happy. Often, it did make her proud of me. (And other adults in my life always complimented me because of how grown up I acted...so I just kept it up.) I did it so that my mom would be happy and spend time with us. If there was one thing my mother loved, it was a stunningly clean and meticulously organized house. Still does! But, when it didn't always work; when clean didn't always make her happy, she stayed depressed...and distant. So, I worked harder... and the lesson I learned (whether my mother thought this way or not...) was that I simply wasn't good enough; that I couldn't do enough for her to be happy. There was nothing that I could do to make her smile at me and spend more time with me. So, I stopped trying and I just internalized that lie..."You are not good enough."
We all have our stories. We all have those thoughts that are destructive. We all have lies that we have believed. And acknowledging that it is indeed a lie, doesn't necessarily mean you stop believing it. It takes a lot of work to disable the lie that becomes lodged as truth in your heart. I'm too much. I'm not good enough. You don't really love me. If only I was prettier. If only I was thinner. I should be smarter than this. Did I mention, I'm too much.?
I have believed and still believe at times, all of those lies. It's a process to replace a lie with the truth.
We all struggle and we struggle because of various things. Remember that you have a story, and be aware of the people around you. They have stories, too. They have tough stuff that has happened to them in their lifetime. Be compassionate and patient.
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
"Even If..."
Before I walked into work this morning, I decided to open up my email and do a little clean up of my inbox. I rarely open and read the "Encouragement for Today" email's from Proverbs 31 Ministries... but I did today.
The author recalled her past of being raped and ten years later trying to heal from it. She often asked herself how she could possibly forgive him without an apology from him. She later discovered that even if he gave her an apology, it would not set her free. It would not set her free.
If it is possible to feel punched in the gut and hugged at the same time; it's what I felt.
I felt the Lord whisper to my heart, "Even if they believed you, it would not set you free." For the sake of hearts involved, I'll conceal what my family has refused to believe. The point is that man's word does not set anyone free from any chains. Actually, man's word can bind.
Stephanie Clayton writes,
"Freedom is not contingent upon receiving an apology from those who have hurt us."
I have lived for 18 years with a chain around my ankles, waiting for someone to listen. Waiting for someone to dig deep and figure out the pain etched in my masked smile. Longing to be held and loved through the shame and confusion. The older I became, the more compact it all became and the chains tightened. I have been waiting to be heard and believed by the people who gave me life, while missing that God was the one who breathed air into my lungs and caused my heart to beat.
I missed that my freedom cannot possibly come from where I expect it to come from. It comes from the God who is my father AND my mother. Freedom comes from living for an audience of ONE. Freedom comes by walking back through the pain, and allowing Him to soothe and console and nurture the wounds caused by faulty people (as we all are at times...).
It's interesting to me that man can bind, but man cannot unbind. Only God can bring freedom. Only He holds the power to restore what has been destroyed.
And, He is not waiting for anyone to apologize before He heals.
The author recalled her past of being raped and ten years later trying to heal from it. She often asked herself how she could possibly forgive him without an apology from him. She later discovered that even if he gave her an apology, it would not set her free. It would not set her free.
If it is possible to feel punched in the gut and hugged at the same time; it's what I felt.
I felt the Lord whisper to my heart, "Even if they believed you, it would not set you free." For the sake of hearts involved, I'll conceal what my family has refused to believe. The point is that man's word does not set anyone free from any chains. Actually, man's word can bind.
Stephanie Clayton writes,
"Freedom is not contingent upon receiving an apology from those who have hurt us."
I have lived for 18 years with a chain around my ankles, waiting for someone to listen. Waiting for someone to dig deep and figure out the pain etched in my masked smile. Longing to be held and loved through the shame and confusion. The older I became, the more compact it all became and the chains tightened. I have been waiting to be heard and believed by the people who gave me life, while missing that God was the one who breathed air into my lungs and caused my heart to beat.
I missed that my freedom cannot possibly come from where I expect it to come from. It comes from the God who is my father AND my mother. Freedom comes from living for an audience of ONE. Freedom comes by walking back through the pain, and allowing Him to soothe and console and nurture the wounds caused by faulty people (as we all are at times...).
It's interesting to me that man can bind, but man cannot unbind. Only God can bring freedom. Only He holds the power to restore what has been destroyed.
And, He is not waiting for anyone to apologize before He heals.
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