Esther

What will people do when they find that it's true?

2009-08-31T16:05:00.000-07:00

I was introduced to a stellar book last night that has provided me with some great encouragement throughout my day: Jesus Freaks. It's a compilation by (you guessed it) DC Talk that gives stories of martyrs of the faith. I think it would be great for a bedtime story or something to read over coffee every morning. Each of the vignettes offers an encouraging story of a person who loved God enough to withstand trials of those persecuting them. It's a good reminder that this sort of thing is happening the world over...even this very minute. The introduction explains:

"The purpose of this book is not to try to explain away the deaths of the martyrs, but to honor their conviction, commitment, and faith - and to build yours. Each of us must follow Jesus for ourselves. You may never have to face the decision of whether or not to die for your faith, but every day you face the decision of whether or not you will live for it."

I'm just a few pages in, but wanted to share with you a part of one of the stories that particularly touched me. Ivan, a soldier in the USSR in the 1970s was asked to renounce his faith. The military found his Christianity to be a discipline problem and wanted to "re-educate" him in the ways of the Communist party. In order to persuade him to deny Christ, he was asked to stand outside in his summer uniform throughout the winter nights, where temperatures dropped to 13 degrees below freezing. Weeks went by like this and Ivan stood praying and singing praise to God, confident that an angel was with him to protect him from the cold. Eventually, he was stabbed, beaten and drowned and his body returned to his parents with the explanation, "He fought with death, but he died as a Christian." In a letter to his parents during this period of trial, Vanya wrote:

"...the Lord has showed the way to me...and I have decided to follow it... I will now have more severe and bigger battles than I have had till now. But I do not fear them. He goes before me. Do not grieve for me, my dear parents. It is because I love Jesus more than myself. I listen to Him, though my body does fear somewhat or does not wish to go through everything. I do this because I do not value my life as much as I value Him. And I will not await my own will, but I will follow as the Lord leads. He says, Go, and I go."

In the midst of trial, I want these words to be my words.

The Taming of the Shrew

2009-08-27T11:59:00.001-07:00

There's nothing like unemployment to allow for endless introspection.

While reorganizing files on my computer the other day, I read all of 2008 here on Esther. I save all of my blog posts on my computer for posterity's sake (because I don't really trust the internet and what if they all mysteriously disappeared online?), so while copying them into a document, I started reading a few things here and there, which turned into re-reading everything and reflecting on what God has done in the last year and a half of my life. Unlike my journals, which are filled with a lot of the complete garbage that comes from my gut reactions and unfiltered thinking*, most of what I'd written online were things I'd processed through a little more carefully, trying to look at situations from God's perspective and understand the theological implications of what was going on. Still, in re-reading myself, I noticed a distinctive brazen tone and snarky attitude in my writing. In some ways, I was impressed at how brash and honest I was able to be during that time - sharing very raw thoughts and emotions - but a part of me was also sad to see the sort of bitterness and frustration that my writing expressed. I almost deleted my blog entirely, wanting to start over on a new site, under a new pseudonym, now that I feel like I'm in such a different place.

I wondered how many more times in my life I was going to think that.

Seeing my "old" self in light of who I am today reminded me of a conversation I had with my cousin Mark earlier in the year. I was gushing - like actually, for real gushing about how swell I think my boyfriend is (I know, me...gushing...), and he said something to the effect of, "it's good to see that you're starting to come around." [Come around from what?] "...you know...you used to be so man-hating." Me? Man-hating!? I couldn't believe he'd said that.

But it's all very clearly communicated in my writing - not that I necessarily hated men during 2008, but by saying things like "I'm not sure if I believe in love" and discussing my frustrations with the culture of dating and relationships, I can see how people read that. Rather, I can see how my blunt discussions of dating and love revealed deeply seated heart-issues; I feared and idolized men, and I harbored a lot of hurt and resentment.

In a way, I think the relationship I'm in now has been a sort of taming of the shrew. Like Kate, I was sharp-tongued and quick tempered, at times even spurning the idea of marriage and family - hoping to quelch the longing for marriage that God had put in me because it wasn't convenient to desire a family and have none. Somewhere around June, I started to realize just how much I had changed and began praying for God to soften my heart. I felt that I was becoming maybe...oh...just...well, kind of...I mean...a little bit...uh...bitter...

I was Kate. But my Petruchio in this case was not a man. Hearing my prayers, it has been God working in my heart to massage it back into flesh. He has so graciously used my current relationship to bring to light many ways in which I had grown cold and afraid, ways in which I was looking for someone else to fulfill me and had not been trusting God to care for my heart. Not that I have by any means conquered these struggles, but I praise God that He keeps working in me each day to make me more like Jesus and less like the shrew I see riddled throughout my writing.

For this reason, I'm going to keep Esther as she is - because the very same writing that brings me to deep sadness over the idolatry in my life, also brings great joy. In exposing my sin and weakness, God is all the more glorious - because He knew (and knows) every desire in my heart and yet still loves me and forgives me for ALL of that sin.

"On Monday, I watched the last sun of 2007 set over the ocean. Being on the West Coast, where the day ends and the sun dies, I feel my age all the more. 2008 starts to settle in my bones as I wonder if the year ahead could possibly bring as much change as the one preceding it...I am constantly amazed when I think back over the years gone by. On the cusp of yet another, I am easily nostalgic and perhaps equally hopeful as I look to what '08 has in store--the course my life will take and the ways it will change me forever."

- January 2, 2008

_____
*Aside - There is great worth to reading over my journals because they reveal the rawness of unedited sin. I haven't decided yet if I am going to do the "great marriage purge" and throw out my old life whenever I make that transition - surely it would be embarrassing if my husband or children ever read about all of the flagrant idols I pursued, but in some ways, it is just another testament to God's work in my life.

Joyfully Unemployed

2009-08-25T09:52:00.000-07:00

Many of you know by now that through God-orchestrated circumstances, I was given the opportunity to leave my job and seek employment elsewhere. Though an apparently foolish career move in the eyes of this world (who quits a job in this economy without having something else lined up?), the situation presented itself as a floodlight on the narrow gate. God asked me to swallow the lump in my throat and charge through it. Leap and He'd catch me. So I did.

Now comes the doldrums of it all - struggling with the temptation to laziness or doubt. There's only a couple of hours worth of job searching that can be done each day, which leaves approximately 22 other hours to fill. Tempting to fear that I made the wrong move and what if God doesn't pull through? Tempting to do a lot of napping, internet browsing, and other senseless time-burning exercises. But I know that each day, each hour is a gift from the Lord, intended to be spent well on things that build His kingdom. No one burns good gifts like that.

This morning I was skimming back over some posts from earlier this summer, pleas for God to use me in in ways less corporate, that don't involve ladders and numbers and all things business. I wanted time for ministry and to use my gifts to help people. I felt trapped in a job that wanted me to "go somewhere" and "make something of myself" when God was telling me that I already had everything I needed for life and godliness. What a blessing to be reminded of God's faithfulness and wisdom in guiding my steps - to remember that my wonderful God gives good gifts to his children and works all things for good.

And so, because of the gospel, because Christ died to pay the penalty of my sins, I can rest in my relationship with God, who is now my Father, and trust that he will take care of money and the logistics of finding me a new job. In this phase of unemployment, I can seek ways to use my gifts and free time to bless others. And what a blessing - what a joy - to be free of previous restraints and to look forward to new responsibilities and new adventures that God has for me to pursue.

Student Quotes of the Day, Part 2

2009-08-25T09:37:00.000-07:00

The 2nd and final (see following post) set of quotes from my students...

Brian: "Dude...I'm so buff, my elbows don't touch."

Denny: “It’s like my head it stuck between a rock and a hard place. Except it’s just two rocks.

Denny: “Why do you carry a Bible around? I mean I would understand if it was Harry Potter…”

Denny: [discussing his theory on making good grades] "The difference between an A and a B is a present."

[discussing wedding registries]

Me: “I got Santiago dominoes because it’s something you can invite people over to play.”

Denny: “Dominoes? Who plays dominoes? I’d just play cards.”

Me: “Well then when you get married I’ll buy you a stack of cards.”

Denny: [offended, indignant] “Cards? Geez…I’d buy you an expensive bottle of wine!”

Lillian: [to Matt]: “Teacher, I don’t get you sometimes.”

Sonia Teacher: “Oh Denny, I’m only joking…”

Denny: “Well you aren’t funny. If you’re going to tell a joke, it should at least be funny.”

Denny: “Those librarians are sneaky!”

Meredith Teacher assigns fierce homework load involving a Roald Dahl story…

Shawn: “Aww….teacher I hate you…”

Meredith: “I’m ok with that.” [Walks out.]

Esther: “I am an athlete-student. And not the other way around.”

ESL student: “I don’t like Fall too because it’s gets cold and there are a lot of rain and my mom and I promised that I will do all the dishes for one week in the Fall and that’s why I don’t like…Fall.”

Sonia Teacher: “Viscous – do you know what that means?”

Esther: “Strait.”

Sonia: “No”

Esther: “Not kinky?”

Sonia: “Uh…no…”

Esther: “It sounds like it would be something dangerous. Like vicious.”

Matt Teacher: “[Meredith Teacher] already has a man. And he’s quite a man. The word ‘hunk’ comes to mind.”

...this involved me blushing and leaving the room.

Denny: “Oh gosh! I don’t want to watch white people dance!”

John: “When I was putting the sugar in my tea I fell asleep again and my hand fell in my tea and stayed there for a while…”

Sean: “I feel your pain. Actually, no I don’t. I’m just saying it ‘cause it sounds cool.”

Shawn: Are you a couple?

Meredith: Do you mean…am I in a couple? Or part of a couple…?

Shawn: Right.

Meredith: Yes.

Shawn: Aww – you have a boyfriend! That’s cute. What does he look like?

Julie: “I saw him! He’s tall.”

Shawn: “Is he ripped?”

Edward: “Is he white?”

Julie: “…and he’s blonde.”

Sean: “Does he have a tattoo of your face on his shoulder?!?”

...um, no. Thankfully.

Dennis: [learning that I’m leaving in a week] “We should start a boycott! …Or have a party. Your choice.”

Sean: [handing me a bar of soap] “Matt Teacher told me to give you this and tell you that I don’t know why it was in my pocket and it’s distracting the class.”

Esther: [regarding my leaving] “This is horrible. I’m gonna go home and freaking weep!”

Esther: “You don’t need one man. You could have a team!”

...that was a fun one to respond to.

Eunice: “Are you really leaving?”

Me: “Yes…weird huh?”

Eunice: “Why?”

- I explain -

Eunice: [not satisfied] “Teacher…is it really because you’re getting married…?”

...she wasn't the only one who thought that the only reason I could possibly leave Prep

was if I were getting married.

Christian One-Liners

2009-08-05T13:41:00.000-07:00

Got these in an email from my mom. Some are a smidge sacrilegious, some quite amusing. We have such a strange and funny culture...

"Don't let your worries get the best of you. Remember, Moses started out as a basket case."

"Many folks want to serve God, but only as advisers."

"The good Lord didn't create anything without a purpose, but mosquitoes come close."

...for our sanctification, for establishing an ordered creation, to teach us patience, etc, etc.

"Opportunity may knock once, but temptation bangs on the front door forever."

"Quit griping about your church. If it was perfect, you couldn't belong"

...we should really use the word "gripe" more often. I find it a rather fittingly negative term.

"If a church wants a better pastor, it only needs to pray for the one it has."

"Some minds are like concrete - thoroughly mixed up and permanently set."

"Be ye fishers of men. You catch 'em - He'll clean 'em."

...rather, He does all the work, and you show up dressed in fishing gear with your net.

"Forbidden fruits create many jams."

What did one strawberry say to the other strawberry?
If you weren't so fresh, we wouldn't be in this jam!!
-courtesy of Monzie Pasos

Student Quotes of the Day, Part 1

2009-07-15T10:51:00.001-07:00

I've been collecting these over the last couple of months in a document on my desktop. Many of them you've probably seen if you're on my G-chat. But for those of you who haven't had the pleasure of enjoying them, here is a list of my favorite student quotes.

Tina: "Teacher, you look delicious."

Lisa: “Teacher, you look like a Stepford wife.”

Dennis (9th grader): "I want to see your boyfriend."
Meredith: "I don’t think he wants to see you..."
Dennis: "Man, you are both whack!"

Lillian: “These math jokes are lame.”

Dennis: [referring to his Life Skills teacher] "I’m gonna kill her."

Me: No you aren’t.

Dennis: Well, then I’m going to egg her car.

Me: And what would that accomplish?

Dennis: Pleasure.

*note: the above mentioned teacher was later fired for possession of illegal drugs.

Dennis was able to bring his grade up from a D to an A*

Richard: "Teacher, you should get married and have a baby so you don’t have to work here anymore."

Denny: [regarding Matt (Kleinhans) Teacher]: "He looks like a young version of Mr. Rodgers."

*Korean's don't generally know how to rock the sweater vest*

Lisa: [to Roz, regarding the reason she now has difficulty in school] "You are the reason I am this way!!"

*brilliant blame-shifting logic*

Phonetic spelling of "Brad Pitt" with a Korean accent: “Bread Pete” – Robby

In English class...

Dennis: [insults Richard, then, laughing] "I’m sorry."

Meredith: "You aren’t really sorry."

Dennis: "Yes I am…see I’m crying…"

Laura Teacher: "I think you just violated one of Ben Franklin’s virtues."

Sean, in dealing with the stress of writing a thesis statement: "I'm feeling light-headed."

Dennis: [discussing how he wanted to go to Matt Teacher’s wedding last year] “If you get married Teacher—whooo—I’m gonna stalk you!!”

Denny: "I miss being on top."

*meaning, he misses being an 8th grader, rather than lowly 9th...*

Matt: "When I got my AP test and saw that it was a 5--I just dropped it on the floor and was like - I. Am. A historian. Books should be written about me."

*humility + 1*

Dennis: [referring to dealing with acne] "My mom made me an appointment with a pediatrician and they took care of it."

Dennis: [to Sonia] "I thought I was dreaming when I saw Meredith." [to me] "...because you're so beautiful."

Day in the Life

2009-07-14T14:46:00.000-07:00

In case you've been curious why I don't post anymore, we are in week four of the summer program here at Prep Center, and it turns out that having a regular nine-to-six type job actually has made me more busy than before, leaving little time for writing anything other than G-chat status updates. But for your reading pleasure, here are a few random tidbits to give you a feel for what my day looks like above and beyond the generic duties of keeping track of students, teachers, and curriculum.

Things I Googled Today:

1. Smashing Pumpkins

2. Definition of a Participle

3. The distance between 644 Landfair and my house (1.9 miles)

4. Counseling jobs in Los Angeles

5. SAT testing policies

6. TAP passes for the Metro

***

Things I Taught Someone Today:

1. How to make egg drop soup - more specifically, how to drop said egg into the soup.

2. Why the word "tempted" is not past tense and therefore appropriate for a literary essay (see also above, number 2).

3. How to prioritize tasks when you have missing assignments that are over a week late in all of your classes.

***

Geek Out!!

Find the errors in the following example sentences for vocabulary words in The Princeton Review's 2006 edition of Cracking the New SAT:

"Many Jews left Russia and emigrated to Israel after it was founded in 1948."

"Lou's taste in music is eclectic because he listens to everything from rap to polka."

***

Regarding My Lunch (Half) Hour:

Number of Tuesdays in a row that I've had Chinese food for lunch: 4

Estimated number of Orange Chicken lunch specials I have ordered from China Wok: 27

Best fortune cookie prediction: "Alas! The onion you are eating is someone else's water lily."

***

Teacher Quote of the Day:

"I love your outfit today. You look like Minnie Mouse. In a good way."

***

Current project I'm working on: finding fun, non-touristy stuff to do in the San Francisco area for our college tour coming up in August.

Current project my assistant is working on: typing sets of 100 SAT vocabulary words and making corresponding quizzes.

Current project my boss is working on: creating a motivational seminar for incoming 8th and 9th graders based on The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People.

Don't know what I ate before bed last night...

2009-05-23T09:16:00.000-07:00

They were from Russia, she told me, amongst other things--but I disregarded her warning nearly before she made it. My mom is the type who sends every email forward out there--I think perhaps she even hunts them down in her spare time--cautioning me against the latest hacker schemes or grocery store rapist tricks. I try to take her seriously because I know it's born out of a desire to care for and protect me, but when she launched into a discussion of her latest paranoia about hoards of foreign snakes, I tuned her out, deleting it like so much spam. I didn't hear her tell me that they would multiply endlessly, that they would hunt you relentlessly, or that the possession of their bite brought the sorts of horrors you only expect in the worst of nightmares.

Meanwhile I busied myself with young motherhood. At nearly one, Ben had just started to toddle around the house, and though that meant increasing opportunities to get himself into trouble, when he reached his little sausage arms up, hands grasping for me, I could feel my heart melting. I was going to be a good mom, so I would have to learn to mask that softness if I ever stood a chance at effective discipline. I had some time before he would be cognizant enough of his disobedience to warrant punishment, but not very much.

I had always wanted to have children, and despite the still fuzzy details of Ben's conception, I loved my little boy more than I even expected I would. I had moved back into my parents house, knowing I would need their help, but Ben was such a good baby I don't recall ever feeling tired, even in the dark of the night when he awoke hungry or after a long day of active play. Active, he was, a product of his mother, and he brought joy to our household in a way that babies often do.

It was at the end of a particularly lovely day when the events concerning my mother's warning began to unravel. I don't even remember putting Ben to bed that night, only that I found myself drifting to sleep in my own room, a sweet-smile resting over the day's closure.

The first one didn't startle me in the way you might expect, slinking its way over my stomach as it wrapped around my torso. It was as though my body had already resigned to its fate or perhaps was too lost in dreaming and thus unable to grasp the gravity of the situation. In my mind, I cannot separate the point between the first creature's advances and all of the others. As the snakes twisted their way around my limbs and tangled themselves into my hair, I slowly came to. It was strange and unreal, silly even, yet there they were, slithering and squeezing, an unusual weight confining me to my bed.

Before panic had an opportunity to set in, I assessed the situation. I would be fine as long as they didn't bite me, so slowly, I slid my way out of their grasp like emerging from some sort of spindly cocoon. I crept from my bed, head tilted to one side under the weight of the snakes that still squirmed through my hair. Hoping to shake them out, I remained hunched over as I backed towards the door. It seemed that the only way to loose the others was going to be to lob off all my hair, a fate I apparently feared more than death, since even in the duress of the situation, my vanity caused me to second guess that option. I chuckled to think I would rather risk leaving myself vulnerable to snake bites than lose my blonde locks. Luckily, it was not a decision I had to make. Once outside the door, I slammed it shut on all the other snakes, and the ones in my hair leapt from my head to slink back to their bretheren. My mother, whose intuition must have alerted her to the crisis, was waiting for me, and before the last snake made his retreat, he bit her toe, leaving what looked like a black bead underneath her skin.

"You have to cut it off!" she screamed, knowing better than I that the only way to prevent herself from becoming fully infected would be to immediately amputate the bitten area. She asked me to fetch a spoon, hoping that with a less violent tool, I would have the courage to carve it out for her. My stomach churned and I thought I would faint. I suppose my adrenaline was already depleted in helping me escape from my room, and there was none left for my current crisis. I felt my eyes rolling back into my head as the heavy anxiety threw me into a panic. My dad came in, and I fled the scene, allowing him to handle the operation. "They're calling for you," I heard him say as I left the room, and I could hear their hissing growing louder from behind the door. It was my name they whispered, a foul utterance that haunted me well after I was out of earshot.

And then, a silence. A calm. A scene change. Lights came up and there were colors and bright music and it was no longer a horror film but something like a pastoral or Dr. Seuss. Someone handed me Ben and I bounced him on my knees, assuming it was all over like a bad dream. He smiled and I smiled and I laughed. And then his face changed. And it all went dark again. Something was strange about him--Ben's eyes held an understanding far too advanced for a mere infant. Replacing the innocence of a child's wiles was the sort of scheming plot you'd expect from a fairy tale villian. He looked at me as if he knew more than me. His eyes had aged in the way of wisdom, and it was a dark wisdom. He'd been bitten. He was no longer my Ben but belonged to them. and if I didn't kill him, he was going to kill me.

Somewhere between the shifting and changing cinematics, my parents had returned to the room. I can't remember if I uttered my conclusion or if they just somehow understood.

"Do it quickly so there's no pain," my father urged. But knowing I hadn't the strength, he came to my aid. He took Ben into his lap, back against his chest, and set his large hands firmly around the little head. Ben's glare still pierced me, though he did not squirm or slither or try to reach for me. Entranced by how time muddied, how everything else blurred into the background, I could look nowhere but at the small child. Then, a sharp twist and a cracking I never want to remember.

The evil was gone, and then it was just Ben looking back at me, and then he was gone too.

My eyes swelled with tears as they locked on to my father's. I held Ben's little feet in my hands, feeling even smaller than they were. Like a child myself, I sought answers from my daddy with a statement that was really kind of a question. "I had a child once," I said.

"Yes, baby, yes you did." He offered me Ben to hold and I retracted. I couldn't--it wasn't him any longer and I was repulsed by his shell. But my father insisted, "you need to hold him one last time." And so I complied.

His little body was wet and putrid with death, his eyes as vacant as my own. I cradled the baby who was just a little too big to be cradled, lost in shock and fear and the nothingness of it all. In the whole, wide world, I knew of no other words: "I had a child once."

Use for a Philosophy Degree

2009-04-20T22:49:00.000-07:00

Random tidbit from Carreon's blog...

"And, if you happen to be Jewish or Christian, you are commanded to be a lover of wisdom (or in Greek, a “philosopher”): “Get wisdom … love her, and she shall keep thee” (Pro 4:5-6)."

Read his other thoughts on philosophy here and here.

In Terms of the Past

2009-04-14T21:40:00.000-07:00

I count nine stars in the night sky from my balcony tonight. I came outside to do some reading, but felt compelled to spend time in prayer instead. There's just something about those back lit palm trees that calm me down and get me thinking about life.

Amidst all the talk (well, reading at least) about what it means to a woman in Biblical terms, there was a nugget of truth that I'd like to stand by when it comes to how I define myself, not only as a woman, but in other ways in my life:

"If we define ourselves out of a reaction to bad experiences [like a precedent of male domination], we will be forever translating our pain in the past into new pain for ourselves and others in the present. We must define ourselves not by personal injury, not by fashionable hysteria, not even by personal variation and diversity, but by the suprapersonal pattern of sexual understanding taught here in Holy Scripture."

-Raymond C. Ortlund, Jr.

It's a particular challenge, but one worth striving for, to look into each new day as if the pain of the past has been erased. In terms of womanhood, this means I cannot look to the misinterpretations or misappropriations of Scripture to develop a reactionary stance of what I determine my purpose as a woman to be. Rather than come to my own conclusions then search around for Biblical support, it's important that I first seek what God's Word has to say, then build my life around that. In particular, one of my big questions has been whether or not my ideas of what it means to be a "helper" have developed out of application suggestions I've heard over the years that I canonized into my own laws of femininity. Have I confused scripturally mandated wifely duties (extreme examples being things like doing all the cleaning and cooking) with some person's thoughts on ways that a wife can show love and respect for a husband? If so, it's an important paradigm shift to make--obeying God's framework for femininity without allowing a legalistic set of rules to weigh me down. Freedom in the gospel.

In terms of everything else, I cannot be weighed down by mistakes, of either myself or others, or allow them to excuse certain behaviors. While it may be helpful for me to understand why I might have cultured certain tendencies due to upbringing or abuses, I cannot allow those things to hinder the way I behave today. Especially when it comes to sin, if I have repented and asked for forgiveness, I should act in light of a debt paid. And for those I've forgiven for sins against me, I must not hold a grudge. Dwelling on the past in this way encourages a defeatist mentality, one that belittles the power of God to transform lives and work in our weakness.

I think I'd be better off each day if I spend a few minutes the night before, clearing my head into the night sky out above the back alley of my building. It's a good time to process through the mistakes of the day, to reflect on God's victories, exhale the bad, and to meditate on what is true. Where I have failed, the gospel reminds me that I am forgiven. When I am tempted to despair, it is God to whom I look for my definition and worth.

"The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases,
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
'The Lord is my portion,' says my soul,
'therefore I will hope in him.'"

-Lamentations 3:22-24

Bad Idea #2

2009-04-08T19:58:00.000-07:00

It's Spring Break over here in LAUSD, so most of my kids are running out of steam, ready to leave at 7:30 when class lets out. Normally I stay until 9:00 for those ambitious types who need to squeeze in a few more chapters before they go home. But this week, few are feeling so driven.

While waiting for the last of the stragglers to leave, I got to reading some articles over at The Council for Biblical Manhood and Womanhood where I discovered some fodder for my current thoughts on career and the single woman. In "Three Bad Ideas," Frederica Mathewes-Green discusses her earlier days within the feminist movement and what she considers three of the most problematic ideas that feminism has encouraged through the last few decades, one of which she defines as "careerism." Her description of the feminist perspective on men and the resulting power struggle fought against them reveals an underlying problem with the ways in which we identify ourselves:

"There is a pop-sociology concept called "imitating the oppressor," which means that when a group struggles for a new identity it tends to adopt the values of whoever it perceives to be holding power. Thus, anything that looked "feminine" made feminists uncomfortable, because in the opinion of men it was weak. Why we should think that men were smarter than our mothers and grandmothers was never clear. Most of the time, we acted as if men were made only a little higher than pond scum. Yet we accepted unquestioningly that a man's life was the ideal life. Everything about men seemed more serious, more important. We felt embarrassed at our soft arms, and betrayed by our soft emotions. Motherhood was a dangerous sidetrack, a self-indulgent hobby that could slow you down. That's the way men saw it, and who were we to argue? Whatever men treated with contempt was contemptuous; whatever men valued was valuable. And what men valued most was success....So feminism concluded that men, despite being idiots, were on-target about how we should live our lives...We were embarrassed by our female ancestors and envied the males. They had power, and we wanted power. We couldn't imagine any success except success in men's terms."

Two conclusions: 1. If men and women truly are created differently but with equal value, then there's no need to dismiss the unique nature of a woman, be it soft arms or soft emotions. And, 2. When it comes to careers, perhaps men and women have equally gotten it wrong--what leads to fulfillment is not power or success, vain ambitions or frivilous pursuits, but a heart that is daily transformed more and more into the likeness of Jesus Christ. More to come on that...

Feminine Disposition

2009-04-06T09:39:00.001-07:00

I came into work this morning at 9:00, which for all of you working folk does not seem so odd unless I explain that I will not get off work around 5:00 like the rest of you, but will be staying here until 9:00 PM. I'm trying to have a positive attitude about that.

Since classes don't start until 10, I took this first hour (where we're really only open so that kids can get dropped off early) to skim through Titus. I halted at chapter 2:

"Older women likewise are to be reverent in behavior, not slanderers or slaves to much wine. They are to teach what is good, and so train the young women to love their husbands and children, to be self-controlled, pure, working at home, kind and submissive to their own husbands, that the word of God may not be reviled. "

-Titus 2:3-5, emphasis mine

There are a lot of things I love about my job--where else would I get such a great opportunity to directly impact the lives of so many high school kids on such a personal level? Not only has this job offered some really incredible ministry opportunities, but I see how it has been training me for any number of potential jobs and roles I may fill in the future. I'm learning patience and kindness, how to manage and direct students and teachers alike, and a whole wealth of information about the Los Angeles educational system.

But, like any job, it has its downsides--today the most pressing of which is the daunting 12 hours I will spend in the office. Then I read something in Titus urging women to be working at home and I feel a deep sense of longing to quit my job and adopt a child. Today I don't feel like being a businessman. I want to be a woman.

In the book I'm reading (which I teased in the last post), the authors talk a lot about femininity in terms of having a certain "disposition" toward submission and so forth. They explain that in many circumstances in life you may be prevented from acting in your God-given identity as a woman, but it does not make you unfeminine. They give the example of a wife who is unable to submit to the authority of her husband because he is asking her to do something sinful--in this case, she is not behaving in an unfeminine way by not submitting, as long as she retains the disposition that desires to see her husband repent so that she may once again submit to his leadership.

I firmly believe that God has called me to work during this season of my life rather than stay home, but I find myself fighting a disposition that would prefer freedom for ministry than a 12 hour workday. My commute this morning was marked with a sort of sad feeling in the pit of my stomach. I long to spend my day at home with a child or mentoring and counseling women in the church or making clothing or studying my Bible. I hope that these things will mark future seasons of my life, but for now, I know that I want to live excellently where God has called me.

The verse in Titus is likely not a mandate for women to stay at home, but rather an encouragement to avoid laziness, emphasis on "working" rather than "at home," but it still comes as a stark reminder that I today I'd rather be making my home and caring for a family than drudging away in corporate America. Is then, my feminine disposition to blame for my discontent? Perhaps.

But regardless, I desire in whatever state I am in, to be content, to honor God with my actions and attitudes and to remain joyful. After all, there is the gospel. I am redeemed and reconciled to God through the sacrifice of Jesus and in constant training to become more like Him. If God is really sovereign, I can trust that this season has purpose and find hope and joy all the way until 9:00 PM tonight.

"For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation for all people, training us to renounce ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in the present age, waiting for our blessed hope, the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior Jesus Christ, who gave himself for us to redeem us from all lawlessness and to purify for himself a people for his own possession who are zealous for good works."

Titus 2:11-14

John Piper wants me to quit my job.

2009-03-31T09:59:00.000-07:00

I just started reading the 1993 Christianity Today Book of the Year: Recovering Biblical Manhood and Womanhood: A Response to Evangelical Feminism. (edited by John Piper and Wayne Grudem) I'm one chapter in and already feeling a little under the microscope. What are the proper aspirations of a Biblically-minded woman? Piper's introduction lays out a definition of what it means to be feminine** and expands upon how that affects a woman's day to day choices.

First the definition: "At the heart of mature femininity is a freeing disposition to affirm, receive and nurture strength and leadership from worthy men in ways appropriate to a woman's differing relationships."

Piper takes care to articulate himself--to explain what he means and does not mean by several of those hot-button words (like "lead" and "nurture" and "receive") that have taken on many skewed connotations over the years and amongst differing cultures. I would highly encourage you to pick up the book for yourself so that you get the full argument, as I am clearly glossing over many of his important points to get to the part that really struck me.

That being, a particular charge (number 11 of 15 in his conclusion) to women:

"That you not assume that secular employment is a greater challenge or a better use of your life than countless opportunities of service and witness in the home, the neighborhood, the community, the church, and the world; that you not only pose the question: career or full time home-maker? but that you ask just as seriously: full time career or freedom for ministry? That you ask: Which would be greater for the Kingdom--to work for someone who tells you what to do to make his or her business prosper, or to be God's free agent dreaming your own dream about how your time and your home and your creativity could make God's business prosper? And that in all this you make your choices not on the basis of secular trends or upward lifestyle expectations, but on the basis of what will strengthen the faith of the family and advance the cause of Christ."

Those who know me understand that I surely do not have a beef with the idea of staying home for an appropriate season to nurture and raise my children. Dropping my job because my small children need me to care for them would be more of a joy than a burden for someone whose greatest "career" goal always meant family anyways. But what I do want to reckon with is how my femininity should be expressed as a single, self-supporting woman during this chapter in my life. Certainly, I must hold a job so I can pay rent, and I understand the concept that my current job is also included within my mission and ministry here in LA. So while I'm clearly not considering to put in my two-weeks notice, as I continue to read and reevaluate my perception of God's calling for women, I want to allow that to inform my trajectory in life. What do I chase after? How do I hone the gifts and passions that God has instilled within me? How can I pursue biblical femininity in my current stage of singleness? And how might that change when I step into the next chapter of life?

**Piper also includes a lengthy description of masculinity, which for the purposes of my posting, I won't get into. But for the curious, he defines it as this: "At the heart of mature masculinity is a sense of benevolent responsibility to lead, provide for, and protect women in ways appropriate to a man's differing relationships."

The Country Music Theory

2009-03-10T21:31:00.000-07:00

So you treat your love like a firefly, like it only gets to shine for a little while.
Catch it in a mason jar with holes in the top and run like hell to show it off...

Apparently I'm a words person. You can play a song with the most distinctive drum beat or melody line and until they start singing, I will likely not know what the name of the song is. Every now and again I can catch a certain artist's musical style, but mostly, without the lyrics, I'm lost.

I think this is why country music still captivates me--an especially poignant song will send me back. I caught fireflies in a mason jar, had watermelon seed spitting contests, sat in the tailgate of a boy's truck down by the river and went to every high school football game. Country music is like sweet tea or biscuits and gravy...it brings you home.

There's an especially kitchy song that came out a couple of years ago by Trace Adkins called "Songs About Me." As music goes, it's fairly standard, and since it had little to do with love, requited or otherwise, I always fell for me into the category of "change the radio station." Then a few weeks ago, while driving home one night, pondering the particulars of my music interest, the chorus unwittingly came to mind (here typed, for those of you not interested in braving the YouTube video linked above):

Cause it's songs about me
and who I am
songs about loving and living
and good hearted women and family and God
yeah they're all just
songs about me

Which really sums it up. Country music is songs about everyday America. For your home-grown types, the message rings much clearer than aspirations of "bling" or being "bootylicious" and fears of people "tryin to catch me ridin dirty." So even if I were to submit that Country tends to hit slightly below par when it comes to musicality, I'll remain a die hard fan because the songs tell the stories of my youth.

So, given the roots of my roots, it's no wonder I branched into musical softies like Joshua Radin or Damien Rice, why I'm fascinated with the lyrical wiles of Sara Bareilles or Jason Mraz (whose new cd is, by the way, amazing). It's the words they say, set to sound, that capture my attention. I cannot recall how many times a particular line or phrase in a song put a whole wealth of my feelings into words. It's the poetry I wish I could write, sung as I wish I could sing. Into certain cd's of mine are burned different eras of my life, and though the music may not relate to where I am now, I can listen, remember, and smile.

Out on a Limb

2009-03-09T15:01:00.001-07:00

Scott, on his blog, linked to an article by John Piper in response to a recent "history-making" event in Minneapolis: the first girl wrestling in the state high-school competition. Like Scott, I'd encourage you to read the full article, but I wanted to expand on a particular part of it that struck me:

"When the apostle of Jesus tells us to live with our wives “in an understanding way, showing honor to the woman as the weaker vessel” (1Peter 3:7), he dumps a truckload of wisdom that fathers should build into their sons.

There is a way to honor a woman. That’s our job as men. This honor “understands” something. It understands that women are the “weaker vessel.” This has nothing to do with less personal worth and in many cases not even with physical stamina. It has to do with pervasive realities that shape the way healthy societies work.

It means that we should raise sons to think of themselves as protectors. Tell them they should lay their lives down to protect girls. Help them know that God designed them to grow up to be a picture of Jesus in their marriage. Nurture the instinct of a boy to fight for girls not against them."

His point is strong and Biblical. In the end, when he calls boys to respond to the situation by refusing to wrestle a woman on the grounds of "My parents have taught me not to touch a girl that way. I think it would dishonor her," my heart warmed. Yes. Teach our men this, I nearly verbalize. And then...I miss the old south, the attitude of a southern gentleman, a certain genteel way of behavior that even in Texas, is starting to culturally slip away.

As women, we hem and haw about how we "deserve" to be treated such and such a way. We demand understanding when we are emotional and respect as the "fairer sex." Biblcially, men do have a high calling when it comes to how they are asked to treat women--to love them as Christ loved the church, who died and gave Himself up for her. (Though some may argue that this is only a mandate for how a husband must love his wife, it is unreasonable to imagine that a man will simply be able to flip a switch at the altar, but should rather be encouraged to develop the kind of perspective and patterns that he will need to practice in marriage.) All the while, women must not be so concerned with men's success or failure in this area that we overlook our own responsibility. While the article addresses how fathers can encourage their sons to handle this type of situation in a godly manner, women must also take responsibility for their scripturally mandated behavior. Part of encouraging men to treat women as the "weaker vessel," requires women to accept that label as part of our identity. We cannot simultaneously demand to be treated gently while claiming that we can take a hit. At best, it's confusing. Men are supposed to be aggressive with us in school, in business, on the wrestling mat...but not when it comes to relationships or sex or anytime that we just don't feel like being treated that way. Worst case, we're dappling in heresy. Nearly every verse in the Bible that talks about how men should treat women is paired with a passage about how women should respond to their men:

"Wives, submit to your husbands as to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the Savior. Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit to their husbands in everything...However, each one of you also must love his wife as he loves himself, and the wife must respect her husband."

Ephesians 5:22-24, 33 (in context)

"Wives, submit to your husbands, as is fitting in the Lord."

Colossians 3:18 (in context)

"Wives, in the same way be submissive to your husbands so that, if any of them do not believe the word, they may be won over without words by the behavior of their wives, when they see the purity and reverence of your lives."

1 Peter 3:1-2 (in context)

I realize that years of having these verses held against us, of having submission forced upon us, can make it difficult for a woman to see submission (defined here as an attitude of respect and honor that often leads to obedience) as a joy. And thus, many in our culture have rejected this idea. Just like Eve, we sought to take the reins. In more recent years, this has snowballed very quickly into men gladly giving up control...along with any notion of honoring or respecting the women who socially beat them down. We're in a tough spot, because on one hand, men must (because the Bible says to) treat women in a gentle and understanding way, and on the other, women should learn and practice the kind of respect and honor for men that they will one day offer to their husband. Though neither side's failure should be an excuse for the other to renege on their end of the bargain, it does become difficult to break out of the downward spiral. How do you respect someone who treats you unkindly? How do you offer gentleness to someone who constantly disrespects you?

Men...women...who's gonna go first?

To Pursue a Job Well Done

2009-02-03T01:06:00.000-08:00

In times when my job seems overwhelming, I find myself seeking to understand the meaning and purpose behind it all. For if I am working to please my bosses--a task immeasurably daunting when their standard of perfection repeatedly finds me a failure--then this is certainly a hopeless cause. Fortunately, I know that God is the only one I need to please. Which, especially recently, has led me to several questions--how do I define God's standard for excellence in my work? If He is the one for whom I go to work each day, how am I to know if He considers my job well done? Can any of my days be counted for His glory?

Tonight I found myself sinfully grumbling that I have lost my motivation. I am quick to blame my superiors for not inspiring me, wondering why they are not more gracious with my mistakes.

I am thankful that this season affords me the opportunity to sit up late on my balcony processing through these things. Though I rarely hear God's voice audibly, I am convinced of the Holy Spirit's deep uttering in my heart--a language that speaks powerfully in a way I cannot explain beyond a sense of peace in knowing--as I slowly realize I am expecting the things of God from mortal men. Certainly, my bosses will never give the kind of grace that I have found in Christ. And they have no inspiration to offer because their secular world-view runs circles around itself trying to find meaning in grades and colleges and pleasing parents. It is only when I view my job in light of the gospel that I can begin to understand how anything I do could have value.

The clearest example I could find of this is in the way I treat the 50-some-odd kids I interact with each day. Though many of them are the sorts of model students that only grace a parent's dreams, quite a few of my kids are difficult to love. It's easy to become impatient with them because they so often deliberately sin against me--acting disrespectfully, lying, and disobeying the directions I give.

"For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. For one will scarcely die for a righteous person--though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die--but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us."

Romans 5:6-8

And this is the gospel made manifest. If I am to live as Jesus, it means loving even the most unlovable. After all, isn't that exactly what Christ has done for me? When I was acting in complete rebellion--refusing to listen to His advice, standing in opposition to the ultimate Teacher--God still looked at me in love.

"We love because he first loved us."

1 John 4:19

In the jumble of words my bosses have offered, there is one piece of advice that still rings clearly: in this job, you have to be quick to forget. The idea resurfaces as I marvel at God's ability and choice to literally forget my sin--to remove it as far as the East is from the West. If His mercies are new each morning, then I can look to Him as the model for how to view these kids--in light of the grace God has shown me, I should be all the more forgiving, loving, patient, and kind.

"But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ--by grace you have been saved--and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Chris Jesus. For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing, it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them."

Ephesians 2:4-10

And so, walk on.

For the Dreamer

2009-02-02T22:37:00.000-08:00

Words that pierce my soul in this current season:

But the thing that I have realized among the mess of shattered dreams is that they are shattered not because they were too big, but because they were too small. God is ridding us of tiny, self-focused dreams and calling us to His unimaginable large God-glorifiying dream for us. As C.S. Lewis famously put it, the problem is that “we are far too easily pleased.”

((Read the full post at Scott's blog...

Life is certainly not linking up with the dreams I had for myself as a child--nor those I imagined just a few years or even months ago. It makes me wonder what I will be saying when I look back ten years from now.

Prayer

2009-01-22T09:48:00.000-08:00

"Even the strongest among us will falter against the blast of the winds and the waves. Doubt, fear, and depression assault us all, no matter how much theology we've mastered. Hannah tells us by her life, as well as by her words, that the struggles that humble us are important regardless of the outcome. By her own account, 'those who stumbled are armed with strength' (1 Samuel 2:4). Hannah was strong because she had stumbled and fallen flat on her face."

~Carolyn Custis James, Lost Women of the Bible

In 1 Samuel, we read the story of Elkanah and his two wives, Peninnah and Hannah. While the former had borne him several children, Hannah was barren--the epoch of shame in that society--and suffered insult upon insult by "the other woman" about her value as a wife. In an episode of anguish, so intense that the priest thought Hannah was drunk, she petitions God for a child, promising to offer the son back to the Lord's service at the temple. Then, she continues her life, continues worshiping God, despite her pain. Against a hopeless situation, Hannah continues in her faith in God.

Right on cue, God delivers a miracle, reopens Hannah's womb and gives her a son. Once Samuel is weaned, Hannah makes good on her part of the bargain, giving her son to be raised in the temple and serve there. Her prayer in the temple was the subject of my meditation this morning...

"My heart exults in the Lord; my strength is exalted in the Lord.
My mouth derides my enemies because I rejoice in your salvation.
There is none holy like the Lord; there is none besides you; there is no rock like our God.
Talk no more so very proudly, let not arrogance come from your mouth;
for the Lord is a God of knowledge, and by him actions are weighed.
The bows of the mighty are broken, but the feeble bind on strength.
Those who were full have hired themselves out for bread,
but those who were hungry have ceased to hunger.
The barren has borne seven, but she who has many children is forlorn.
The Lord kills and brings to life; he brings down to Sheol and raises up.
The Lord makes poor and makes rich; he brings low and he exalts.
He raises up the poor from the dust; he lifts the needy from the ash heap
to make them sit with princes and inherit a seat of honor.
For the pillars of the earth are the Lord's, and on them he has set the world.
He will guard the feet of his faithful ones, but the wicked shall be cut off in darkness,
for not by might shall a man prevail.
The adversaries of the Lord shall be broken to pieces; against them he will thunder in heaven.
The Lord will judge the ends of the earth; he will give strength to his king
and exalt the power of his anointed."

~1 Samuel 2:1b-10

How I Lost My Appetite for Chocolate for a Good Part of 7th Grade

2009-01-19T23:12:00.000-08:00

"This, ladies, is your heart."

Our youth leader held up a piece of chocolate for her demonstration. It was week one in our "dating" series and at 7th grade, most of us were just hitting the boy-crazy phase. Perfect timing...lets dwell on boys in our Bible study--what could be better than justifying a way to merge God with my desire for a boyfriend. I was sold.

"So let's say you are going to start dating a boy," she began, "and you guys hold hands--it's the first time you've ever held hands with a boy and it's really exciting, right?"

We nod, even though many of us,myself included, don't really know what that's actually like. She takes a small nibble from the top of the chocolate heart.

"So now you've given that little piece of yourself to this boy--he's the first to hold your hand."

We wait for what's next.

"So then let's say you start hanging out a lot more and you start to share a lot of your emotions with him..."

Another small bite out of the heart.

"He now has that little piece of your heart...and then let's say you've been dating a little while and he finally kisses you..."

Bite.

From the back of the room, someone giggles a little, but I have enough wherewithal to know that something about this isn't really quite funny. Her tone of resentment builds.

"So now you see what you have of your heart...some pieces are missing because you gave those away to this boy..."

I'm not comfortable with the glimmer of crazy that flashes across her eyes. Some others are starting to clue in. We career Christians are taught to look for the turn in any analogy, and right on cue, all hell breaks loose.

"So then let's say you guys start doing just a little more than kissing..."

A more rabid bite.

"...and he's touching you in ways that are not appropriate..."

Teeth sinking, chocolate ripped away.

"...and then eventually you have SEX with him!!"

Bite! Bite! Bite!!

No one is smiling any longer as we stare horrified at the lump of chocolate and saliva that lays in her hand, running down her fingers. A stray drop lands on the floor, ignored by the intensity of the situation. Our faces are stone and terror as we listen to her heavy breathing. A worldview shift. In this moment, we are terrified of the opposite sex.

Her point: anything you do with a boy who is not your husband is going to cause you grief when you are married, so be careful how you date and don't give pieces of your heart away haphazardly.

I won't fault those Junior High dating lessons, because I think they were both well-intentioned and useful for angsty pre-teens who clearly did not have the maturity to handle themselves well in relationships. Like kissing dating goodbye, there are certain seasons in life where these types of principles are useful. It's good to be cautious in dealing with the opposite sex because young people are often reckless and can end up causing a lot of unnecessary harm through bad dating practices.

But as I've gotten older, I've had to re-evaluate what it means to "guard my heart." I noticed that it was founded in some very un-biblical ideas--I had taken this mandate about preparing for marriage and skewed it into the idea that I would somehow come into a relationship damaged and that it would be disappointing for my spouse who probably deserved better but would take pity on me anyways. Worse, I had taken to guarding myself as a means of self-preservation, an utterly selfish preservation. I fashioned a godly-sounding excuse for avoiding vulnerability and transparency in my relationships with guys, and as a result I had kept things shallow with most people. I was judgemental, scared, silly and downright sinful.

It wasn't until recently that I started to look back at this idea of "guarding my heart" and ask myself where the maxim came from. While the principle seemed biblical--even after I'd stripped away my misinterpretation and insecurity about it--I wanted to know what exact part of scripture it was based on. Then I found it...

"Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life."

--Proverbs 4:23

"Above all else," I marvelled. Them's fightin' words. So whatever it means to guard my heart, I better take this seriously. But beyond the mandate to guard my heart vehemently, the verse didn't really explain what I was supposed to be doing with such vigor. Luckily, I have enough Bible training to know better than to isolate a verse out of context; rarely does the Bible work with one-liners, so I looked to the surrounding verses for clarity. Turns out this verse comes in the context of a young man being encouraged to pursue wisdom in his life, avoid wickedness, and consider his steps carefully. They weren't talking about dating and marrying well. Hmm.

This is elaborated in the Matthew Henry commentary:

"Keep thy heart with all diligence. God, who gave us these souls, gave us a strict charge with them: Man, woman, keep thy heart; take heed to thy spirit, Deu. 4:9. We must maintain a holy jealousy of ourselves, and set a strict guard, accordingly, upon all the avenues of the soul; keep our hearts from doing hurt and getting hurt, from being defiled by sin and disturbed by trouble; keep them as our jewel, as our vineyard; keep a conscience void of offense; keep out bad thoughts; keep up good thoughts; keep the affections upon right objects and in due bounds. Keep them with all keepings (so the word is); there are many ways of keeping things—by care, by strength, by calling in help, and we must use them all in keeping our hearts; and all little enough, so deceitful are they, Jer. 17:9. Or above all keepings; we must keep our hearts with more care and diligence than we keep any thing else. We must keep our eyes (Job 31:1), keep our tongues (Ps. 34:13), keep our feet (Eccl. 5:1), but, above all, keep our hearts. 2. A good reason given for this care, because out of it are the issues of life. Out of a heart well kept will flow living issues, good products, to the glory of God and the edification of others. Or, in general, all the actions of the life flow from the heart, and therefore keeping that is making the tree good and healing the springs. Our lives will be regular or irregular, comfortable or uncomfortable, according as our hearts are kept or neglected."

Meaning, guarding my heart has less to do with how I interact in relationships with men (though this is involved) but in how I behave overall. I should have an attitude that guards against evil...that does not allow myself to dwell on any sinful thing, but meditate on whatever is pure...

"Finally brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, thing about these things. What you have learned and received and seen in me--practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you."

--Philippians 4:8-9

"So if there is any encouragement in Christ, any comfort from love..."

2009-01-17T10:30:00.000-08:00

Relentless, like a child, I am learning to ask, "why?"

In the past week or so, I've bitten back the urge to admit that I really need some encouragement. I hate that the seeming identity of a woman is marred by her nagging infatuation with being validated. And so, I find my desire to be built up quite deplorable, as it seems to be on par with the short skirts and bar scene where I would vie for the attention of a man to assure myself of worth. I'm finding a deep dissatisfaction with the excuse, "that's just how women are," and wish I could pick God's brain over a pint. What is Biblical when it comes to the identity of a woman, or the identity of a person in general? Where is the logical explanation for my actions? And if there is something inherently sinful about my behavior, despite whether it is "natural," should I not therefore take all measures to root it out?

The question: why do I need to be encouraged? Is this really a need or some selfish crutch on which I've learned to lean for support?

The book of Acts, and consequently the epistles of the New Testament, are full of examples of Jesus' disciples and followers traveling to early churches and offering encouragement for the believers there:

"And when [the believers in Antioch] had read [the letter], they rejoiced because of its encouragement. And Judas and Silas, who were themselves prophets, encouraged and strengthened the brothers with many words." (Acts 15:31-32, see also 16:40, 18:27, 20:1-2)

In lieu of his being able to come to the churches directly, Paul's letters also function to encourage believers. Though full of instruction and rebuke, Paul opens by reminding the believers of their identity (often calling them "saints," which is to say, made holy in Christ) and how, specifically he has been encouraged by hearing about them. (Eph. 1:15-16, 1 Cor. 1:4-8, 2 Tim. 1:3-7)

In Romans, Paul expresses a desire that they "would be mutually encouraged by each other's faith" (1:12), then later exhorts them to look toward scripture for their hope, hope in a God who is identified as a source of endurance and encouragement:

"For whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, that through endurance and through the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope. May the God of endurance and encouragement grant you to live in such harmony with one another, in accord with Christ Jesus, that together you may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ" (Rom 15:4-6).

In 1 Thessalonians, Paul explains that because the end is drawing near, we should be encouraging each other with the hope of Christ's second coming (4:18). He then explains that since the Day of the Lord is coming, we should not sleep, but prepare ourselves to fight, "having put on the breastplate of faith and love, and for a helmet the hope of salvation" (5:8) He concludes, assuming that this will be a hard road:

"Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing" (5:11).

All that to say, encouragement is probably necessary if scripture is riddled with it. Though it is clearly not the only good thing--most of the content in the letters in the New Testament are devoted to instruction, admonishing believers to pursue holiness at whatever the cost--it seems fair to assume that encouragement within the church body is both healthy and helpful. Still, it does not answer my first question--why do we claim to need it? Why do we keep needing it over and over and over again? I can't help but ashamedly empathize with the Israelites when they constantly doubt that God is going to pull off what He promises to do--how often God laments over how His people have forgotten Him. To my dismay, I, too, am quick to forget. I don't know why my brain seems wired that way and why, if I were just reminded yesterday of God's promises (or five minutes ago), I "need" to hear it again.

I emailed my parents, seeking some clarity, and got a lengthy response from my mom, quoting some things that she was reading and verses that she turns to when she is tempted by discouragement. She ended the email with this:

" I love you, Meredith. You are an amazing, strong, wise, beautiful young woman, and the holy, precious, righteous, forgiven, redeemed, loved, eternally saved child of God, the Heavenly Father...."

What is it about those words that have the power to quell the rising panic that I keep pushing down below my stomach, to hide somewhere entangled within--or perhaps entangling--my intestines? Does my comfort stem from a fear of man--do I so highly regard the approval of my mother that her patting me on the head holds more weight than reading truth in scripture? I wouldn't put it past my sinful self to hold to an inkling of these things, but more often than not, it's the way my parents encourage me that will transform my outlook.

I have been uniquely blessed with parents who love the Lord. Though I am certain they have been disappointed in me at times, they are quick to assure me of my value in Christ. They will note when I'm wrong, but rather than dwell there, they are quick to point me upwards, reminding me in my weakness to rely on God for strength.

That said, being called "amazing" or "beautiful" would be utterly empty had my mother not raised me to understand that any good within me is the work of Christ. If there is any strength in me, it is because God has made me strong. Any wisdom, I can attribute to the Holy Spirit opening my eyes. Any beauty, intended to reflect the glory of the Lord. She follows it up with a laundry list of other attributes of my identity as it is presented in scripture, helping my eyes focus where they belong. My mom realizes what I hope to practice: encouragement should come in Christ--not merely puffing someone up with senseless flattery. The kind of encouragement that we see in scripture is reminding each other of God's triumph to come, looking back at all He has blessed us with, meditating on His grace to forgive even the worst of our sins, and reflecting on the hope that it's worth it to wait up into the night and be on guard and fight for godliness. To dwell on God in this way is honoring and provides a peace and joy that is foreign to this world.

So if that is encouragement, then whether I really "need" it or not, I hope to surround myself with people who offer it freely and look for ways to give it in return.

You Remind Me of Home..

2008-12-28T21:54:00.000-08:00

Every time I go back to Texas, it feels a little more strange, a little more foreign, as LA starts to become more and more a home to me. Now that I've been back in this home for a few days, I've explained to a dozen or so people how my trip back to that home was. A quick three minutes is really not long enough to adequately explain all of the bizarre moments that, though once a normal part of my life, stood out this time around as slightly...well...Southern.

So for your reading pleasure, I offer this bullet point version of what it's like to visit my hometown. (Note: these are all actual events that transpired over the week I was there.)

You Know You're in College Station, Texas When....

* You eat biscuits, sausage, and gravy in epic quantities for breakfast at 9 am and mom is concerned that you'll be hungry again before noon.

* You eat again at noon because not doing so throws up concerns that California has turned you into one of them anorexics..

* Dinner does actually involve vegetables but they are cooked until they are mushy and then doused in cheese.

* The meat to all other food ratio is 1 to 1 and mom is worried there won't be enough.

* Your refrigerator contains a box of wine and a jug of sweet tea...3 variations of mayonaise, 4 kinds of barbecue sauce, and preserves or pickles from half a dozen different kitchens.

* When you get together with the rest of the family (a good 15-20 aunts, uncles and cousins) for pizza one night, they've ordered 10 pizzas in two kinds: cheese and pepperoni. You are the only one that notices.

* When it's time to gather for Christmas Eve Enchiladas, no one has a lot of room for the chili or enchiladas because they have filled up on queso dip.

* The lullaby that dad sings to your brother's kid involves hunting and killing a bear. ("The bear goes over the mountain, the bear goes over the mountain, the bear goes over the mountain...he runs from Al and Neil...and gets shot by Bradly too!")

* You drop words like "Pashmina" or "baubles" and no one knows what you mean.

* You go to the one wedding dress shop in town with your best friend who is going to get married next summer and not only do they not have anything in the mermaid silhouette, but the best seller that they make her try on looks like something you wouldn't have been caught dead in at prom...in 1998.

* Family time involves watching cartoons or survival shows while everyone sits at their respective laptops.

* Aunt Shelley declaires that Spongebob is the funniest show on television. A fifteen minute family discussion ensues. You are the only one who doesn't chime in.

* Dinner time conversations turn to lawn mowing, hunting, or audio engineering.

* Your brother shares his love by farting on you and his wife laughs and says, "Guess I get a break this week."

* Your sister shares her love by pouncing on top of you or grabbing you inappropriately.

* Your several-acre backyard is full of trees, wild brush, and extends back to the lake, but you aren't wealthy.

*More important than asking about your job or church is the question, "So is there anyone special in your life?" Then, if you even so much as suggest that you might be the slightest bit more than friends with someone, the follow up is, "So when is Aunt Joy going to meet him?" (from my Aunt Joy) or "So what does his daddy do?" (another family member) or, even better, "How come you didn't bring him home with you?" (my hairdresser). Everyone feigns scrutiny and talks about cleaning guns or dad's shovel and tiller/tractor, but what they really mean is, if he's as cool as you say, we want him in the family.

* Everywhere you go, either you or someone you're with will run into someone you know. Times 3 if you're at Walmart. Times 15 when you go to church.

* You see more children on a Sunday morning than you have all year.

* The Christmas Eve service is like a mini high school reunion. A good portion of your old friends introduce you to their spouse. One or two show off their kid.

* You spend some time outside right as Eve turns to Christmas day, just staring up at the stars. You cry because you can actually see them and think about how wonderful their Creator is and how much he has blessed you.

* Throughout the week, family activities include going to see Mark and Natalie's horses, putting together a puzzle, watching Mama Mia, and going to the "it" bar in town, known to old school locals as "The Chicken," where you play pool next to the rattlesnake cage and drink beer out of a 32 oz. big-e-gulp cup.

* Uncle John asks you to check if his old rattlesnake is still in the cages at the Chicken, because years ago when he frequented the bar and was good friends with the owner, he donated his snake.

* Aunt Joy wears earings that light up and blink. Uncle Jeff gets a tin of government supply crackers as part of his Christmas gift. The most popular gift card is from Gander Mountain.

* Your cousin Kaylee, when asked what she wants to be when she grows up, answers: "A Bride!"

* When you suggest that their behavior is odd, everyone rolls their eyes and says "You're so California." But what they mean is, "We miss you. Come home soon."

* When you pose for the formal family portrait, dad and Neil pull out the guns so they can be in the picture.

* Because this may be the last time in the next several years that all the cousins are together in one place, they insist on taking a picture of all of you. Eight cameras surface and you all try to keep from cracking up over Will's loud whistling/train sounds, Kelly yelling "Cheese!" because it helps Will to focus, and Sandi yelling to Kaylee, "Keep your dress down sweetie!"

* On Christmas day you stand in a circle of 22 family members, holding hands, and you pray a blessing over the meal and ask God to look out for Cousin Mark who is about to go overseas again with the Army.

* The turkey weighs 25 lbs and there's also a ham, but you are still nervous that there won't be enough.

* When you say goodbye to your parents at the airport, Mom cries even though she's done this 20 or more times by now and Dad hugs you and reminds you he's praying for you and the important people in your life. Then they stand and wave to you all the way through security.

* When you get on the plane, you don't look out the window because you're afraid you might start crying too...

Eve

2008-12-24T20:34:00.000-08:00

It's the night before Christmas and all through my house, its the aroma of tomorrow's dinner cooking and my dad and I on our respective laptops. Neil and Christina went down about the same time their baby did, and my younger sister (also Christina) ventured upstairs a while ago. On my way back home from tamales at Aunt Debbie's, I lingered outside to look up at the sky. All the downsides of College Station melt into the dark places between the stars.

Tonight we went to the Christmas Eve service at my home church. There's something warming to the heart about walking into Grace Bible every year and seeing everyone with their families. Even back in high school, at the peak of teenage angst, Christmas Eve marked peace amongst us all, as we take a moment to remember the birth of Christ.

This year, my family is in full force. We file into our seats with Aunt Shelley, Uncle Randy and our cousins, Mark and Natalie. It reminisces of days back at the Baptist church where the Coopers (my dad has three sisters and a brother) took up the entire second row pew on the left side. On the stage, Mom sits at the piano and Dad picks up his guitar. Joined by close to a thousand others, we stand to sing.

Being at home, in and of itself, already makes me a little weepy. Because it's Christmas, we sing a bunch of old hymn-style songs about the coming of Jesus. Next to me, my blood, and seated all throughout the sanctuary, its an impromptu high school reunion--so many people that I have loved and shared with all in the same room for the same purpose. Naturally, I'm beaming and the words come belting from deep within me as I sing of the glories of my God. It's home and it's good.

My eyes wander from the screens projecting words on either side of the baptistry to a young woman signing a translation to someone on the front row. It is not unusual in a church of our size to have someone available up front to translate the sermon into sign language. But I guess I just had never paid close attention to them growing up--they are interesting to watch, as you see which signs mimic which words, but mostly they have served as no more than a distraction when the sermon got too deep or uninteresting for my childhood attention span. What stood out to me tonight though, and what got me more choked up than when they called all the little children down to the front for the children's service, was watching the woman that the translator signed for, also signing the same words that I was singing with my voice. Watching her praise God in the language she understood reminded me of how big He actually is--He transcends language barriers and disabilities, and receives glory from an honest heart, no matter the medium. For the rest of the worship set, I mouthed the words, so overcome with joy and awe at pondering my Creator that my vocal chords were inadequate to communicate such a powerful outpouring of my soul.

My sister refers to December 23rd as "Christmas Adam." Adam came before Eve, she explains, and so it's only logical to call the day before Christmas Eve by his name. To the rest of the world, Eve is the anticipation of the day to come, and in tonight, there are some elements of looking forward to the presents we will share and wonderful food we will serve tomorrow. But thanks to my my kooky sister, Eve also holds the foretelling of a beginning, the mother of all that is living, who points to the mother who bore a child that would one day be called the Living Water, a Living Sacrifice, Holy, Blameless...the Christ.

In five minutes, it will officially be Christmas here, and I can think of nothing more wonderful to do now than bundle myself up and go outside to gaze into the stars that long ago witnessed and told of God's humble birth in a manger in Bethlehem. The Creator, entering creation, so that He might restore the relationship we lost with Adam and Eve and sin.

Tonight, I remember He is beautiful.

Is it sinful to desire to be loved?

2008-12-18T02:39:00.000-08:00

I scribbled these words in large letters across the face of my open journal and then went back to folding my laundry. It is a good night when something gets me so intrigued that I can't put myself to sleep until I figure it out. It is worth every yawn tomorrow to have stayed up late tonight to write about it.

I wanted to process my thoughts biblically, to siphon my ideas through what Scripture has to say. It starts with, God is love. The Old Testament is riddled with examples of God's steadfast love. In fact, the phrase "steadfast love" could fill its own entry in my concordance, as this seems to be the most common adjective used to record God's response to a nation who continues to turn away from the One who always remains.

God is love, so we, in light of wanting to become more like Him, ought to love one another, and that love can manifest itself in many different ways. Sometimes it comes in the form of a rebuke, sometimes it comes with a kiss. God does not have to say at the end of a honoring life, "Well done, good and faithful servant." But He does. Saying He's proud of us communicates love. Though we may share our love with each other in many different ways, through our speech and actions--sometimes in outright compassion and gentle care and sometimes in smacking our hand when we reach for a hot stove--the important thing is that we do share love with one another.

What characterizes the life of a Christian, though, goes well beyond basking in the love of God all day. The Bible calls us to submit, trust, follow His law, pursue righteousness, actively run from evil and so forth. But before all of it, is love. And if we could really see clearly just how grand God's love actually is, then the nose-to-the-grindstone parts of life would be a joy. It's easy to submit and follow God's law when you rest securely in knowing that you are loved by the one who's guiding you. If I really and fully believe how much God loves me, then when He says, "Give up theatre and follow me," I say, "Let's roll." If you know that someone really loves you, you trust them easily, you listen easily, you submit easily.

I used to believe that you had to first know someone well before you had the "right" to call them out on a sin or inconsistency in their life, but now I'm starting to think that all you have to do is love them well. It's the whole idea of a "confrontation sandwich" (cheesy, I know, but go with me here). When you need to confront someone about something they are doing wrong, says this theory, you begin by building them up ("I really appreciate your work ethic and dedication to the company.."), then explain what you would like them to work on ("...but sometimes your enthusiasm comes off to the customers as aggressive."), and end on an uplifting note ("I am confidant, though, that you will be able to curb your attitude and continue as an asset to our team."). It has the potential to come off as cheesy, but when done correctly, serves much better to accomplish the goal at hand than the cut-to-the-chase alternative. Please don't misunderstand--there is a time and place for that--sometimes the most loving thing you can do is firmly tell someone they're screwing things up and need to change, now. Still, there are times when the more effective course of action is to slow down and love first. What may take a mere two minutes longer--to reassure the person that you are saying this only in love--usually illicits a more positive response. After all, who can look into compassionate and loving eyes and spit into the face of the love they convey. It follows, then, that the best way to bring about change in the lives of those around you is to communicate your love in every way possible--not only in rooting out their sin, but in appreciating their company, reminding them of their value in Christ, and encouraging them in their pursuit of godliness.

A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another;
just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another.
By this all people will know you are my disciples,
if you have love for one another.
John 13:34-35

In pondering these ideas of love and the how-to's of it all, 2 am chased me onto a different rabbit trail, which was probably a good thing. Mulling over my own selfish desire to be loved holds no benefit, especially in light of the great work that can be done when I focus on unabashedly loving others in every way I know how. The question remains, then, and is perhaps more simple to answer than some of the other questions it brought up. Created in God's image, we desire relationships. We were made to be in relationship with God, and the bonds we create on this earth, when modeled scripturally, are designed to give a glimpse of how great our God is. Meaning, when someone loves me well, and my head is in the right place, my first thought is this: if this is only a fraction of the love that God has for me, I am utterly blessed indeed. And praise be to our God.

Fortunately for us, those who so easily become insecure or forget we are loved, the Bible is full of examples of God communicating His love and compassion toward his people...

Even though we were terrible sinners, Christ died for us. (Rom 5:8)

We are referred to as a "chosen race." We are called beloved repeatedly in the Psalms and cared for far beyond the birds and the flowers in the field (1 Pet 2:9, Ps 127, Luke 12:22-34)

He is our refuge, and a place to cast our anxieties; he offers peace (Ps 32:7, 46:1, 119:114, 1 Pet 5:7, Phil 4:6-7)

We are blessed to go through trials, because those are the things that produce steadfastness within us. (James 1:2-4)

God gives to his children generously. He listens to our requests and will do what we ask in His name (James 1:5, Matt 16:23-24)

He allows his disciples to see glimpses of His glory, like in the transfiguration. (Matt 17:1-13)

Jesus eats and drinks among people, enjoys the company of even the lowest of society, makes water into wine to keep a party going, goes into the wilderness with his disciples to recharge with them there.

God gives blessings to His people and honors his covenants: gives a child to Sarah who was barren, gives wisdom to Solomon, delivers the Israelites from captivity in Egypt.

God wires us to desire love. Then, He fulfils it.

From Grace to Now

2008-12-09T10:27:00.000-08:00

I was utterly blessed to grow up in a church where I received theologically sound teaching as well as nurturing discipleship. I can look to a long list of names of women who took time out of their busy lives to pour into me--to encourage me to love and follow God more and more. Men and women who taught me what it means to have a relationship with God--that being a Christian means so much more than rote religious practice, that the Creator of the universe loves me so much that He would sacrifice His only Son so that I would be able to call Him friend.

Grace Bible Church has always felt like my first church family, a foundation that the Lord used to make me into the person I am today. Going home means going to Grace. Surrounded by hundreds of faces I don't recognize, the look of a changed church body, oh how I love them still. These people who are to each other what so many families were to me. I love the Christmas Eve service because I get to see all my friends with their parents and siblings, so many people who despite the disputes of a dramatic adolescence love each other so deeply. We are a college town, but underneath all the transient students lays the solid rock of families who love God and desire to see their children follow Him.

It only made sense that when I received an email from the mother of one of my good friends this morning, my heart broke a little. Laura and I floated in and out of closeness through Jr. High and High School, but when we both left College Station to go elsewhere to school, we found a bond that transcended so many of our differences from the years before. I saw how beautiful Laura had become in light of how God had made her--that in a new place, with friends who saw into her, Laura blossomed. Coming home after that meant picking right up from where we left off, looking into the eyes of a sister that had shared so much with me growing up...who shared so much more with me, now miles apart, as we dealt with many of the same trials and joys of spreading our wings. This Christmas I will see Laura for the first time in several years. I expect to smile and embrace and enjoy family.

Mrs. Breedlove's email was addressed to Laura, me and our friend Mitzi, my long ago triad:

"I am in charge of finding Advent readers and candle lighters for the holidays and wanted to know if the three of you would like to do it together on Sunday the 21st? Traditionally I look for a mix of people...couples, young families, children, singles, etc. I just saw in the three of you beautiful young women, who had known each other for years, raised up at Grace, thriving in the Lord..."

I wept because of the beauty of it. Because I hope some day I will write these things to my daughters. There is nothing more honoring for a parent than to watch their children grow into their own relationship with God--to see them go out into the world and live lives that please the Lord, that seek to know and follow Him. And I just thought--how wonderful will it be to stand with my friends, my sisters, before the church that raised us to say, God took care of us. You prayed and He is faithful. You loved us and in it, we saw the love of Christ and here we are, chasing Him still.

I owe much to my parents. I owe much to the church family who also took me as their child. I owe the utmost praise to God for blessing me with all of them.

Then, my family at Shoreline. I looked over at Harper the other day and realized that when I first met all of these people, his mother was just starting to show. I have watched him grow. And with him, my family grew, weaved together into the relationships that bless me every day. And I think maybe one day, should the Lord bless me in this too, this family will watch my own child grow in me, will be mothers and fathers and brothers and sisters to that child, will stand next to me to raise her too, and when she leaves our family and comes home for Christmas, she will stand before us all and say she learned the love of God here.

An Amazing Grace.

Country Sampler--comes with bacon, sausage, eggs, ham and a little steak for good measure.

2008-10-26T19:02:00.000-07:00

Here's a little bit of what's been rollin through my iTunes lately: country music, my roots. Ahh...feels like home.

(click on the title to listen to them on YouTube--excuse the video presentation--some are just photo compilations, some are actual music videos, most are fairly cheesy...)

"All I Ever Wanted"
Chuck Wicks

"I Love the Rain the Most"
Joe Purdy

"Love Story"
Taylor Swift

"Guinevere"
Eli Young Band

"Roll With Me"
Montgomery Gentry

"Oh Love"
Brad Paisley, feat. Carrie Underwood

"Country Man"
Luke Bryan

Manhood

2008-10-18T17:54:00.000-07:00

Watch it turn...

"Manly Man" by Bradley Hathaway

Flattery

2008-10-17T18:56:00.000-07:00

I woke up the other day to a barrage of emails in my inbox from blogger. My friend's boyfriend had apparently discovered my blog and decided to read and post on every other odd. Like and eEaster Egg hunt, I challenge you to find and read his comments.

One of them, a quotation, I wanted to re-post just in case not everyone has subscribed to my comments on their Google Reader...

"Nearly all marriages, even happy ones, are mistakes: in the sense that almost certainly (in a more perfect world, or even with a little more care in this very imperfect one) both partners might be found more suitable mates. But the real soul-mate is the one you are actually married to."

-Tolkien

It reminded me of something a friend of mine once told me: if it were possible to miss "the one" then it would take a very short time for the entire world to end up marrying the wrong people--because if you married someone else's "one" instead of your own, then you'd be messing up the marriage of their partner, who would marry someone else, and screw up another couple...and so on and so forth. In a world of sinful people (who, left unguided, would most likely screw things up pretty quickly), there's got to be a larger something coordinating things.

Still, we obsess. And in obsessing over trying to find that "more suitable mate," we get a little skittish at settling down with anyone. We believe the lie that some other person (the one we will marry) is going to be what makes us happy, when the Bible says that marriage itself (and the intimacy of relationship experienced therein) will be the blessing we long for.

While an imperfect person will certainly disappoint, God's design in marriage will continue to make us more holy and happy with each passing year.

Encouragement for the Dry Spell

2008-10-14T12:39:00.000-07:00

No fancy intro, just wanted to post something that really encouraged me this morning:

In reading My Utmost for His Highest, I got to a passage about Moses--one of the great leaders of Jewish history, known for bringing the Israelites out of slavery in Egypt. It's a great story...parting seas, a flip-flopping ruler, manna and fire pillars and all sorts of rad stuff. In lieu of all the action, the part of the story I usually breeze over comes a little earlier (just after the baby floating down the river in a basket bit). As a young man, Moses becomes aware of who he is, an Israelite adopted into the royal Egyptian family, and how his people have been treated as slaves. Burdened for his own, Moses realizes that he may be positionally equipped to lead them out of slavery. Gung ho, I'm sure his prayers sounded a little like mine--pursuing a God-honoring goal and ready to conquer the world with naiive, but good intentions.

Then God sent him into the desert for FORTY YEARS. How frustrating that must have been, to seek out what seems like a noble path only to have God say, "Nope."

What I sometimes fail to understand (and what Oswald Chambers, oh so kindly pointed out) is that God's got a better idea of how my life should run than I do. It's easy to get frustrated when I feel like my prayers are seeking something good (like marriage and family, missions opportunites, etc) yet they continue to go unfulfilled. It's good to be reminded that those desert places in life are actually vitally important when it comes to how God is shaping me as a person, breaking down my pride and disciplining my wayward heart. The desert isn't just a holding pen until other parts of life can fall into place, but rather, they serve their own vital purpose.

And while I'm here, I plan to enjoy what God is giving me and pursue righteousness for the sake of simply being holy. It would be easy to grin and bear the heat, all the while pining for the day I can get back to "reality," but that would completely undermine my faith in a soveriegn God who causes all things to work together for His good purpose. After all, why waste time whining when I can roll out my beach towel, don my oversized LA sunglasses, and get a tan.

Delightful

2008-10-08T01:28:00.001-07:00

I'm staying up late tonight because I can. I can enjoy the night sky and the one star I can see through the power-lines and ambient LA light on my back alley balcony. I can enjoy nostalgia and country music. I can enjoy spending time reading.

And I am.

Here's a tidbit I came across, a top 20 list of "Marriage Rules"

Some highlights...

2. Don't marry a man who is neater than you are. You may, however, marry a man who polishes his tools and puts them away after use....

3. Don't marry anybody, man or woman, who says, "I'm going to call you at eight," and then leaves you waiting by the phone for an hour. Exceptions can be made for people who are kidnapped by Arabs, or who have epileptic seizures.

5. Don't marry a woman who spends more on makeup than she does on food. In general, don't marry a woman who engages in the sin of reverse gluttony.

8. Do not marry a man who treats his mother or his sisters discourteously. As he treats his mother, so will he treat you. But by all means do not marry a man who takes his direction from his mother, or who is ruled by his mother's ambitions. Mama's boys are unhappy, and they make their wives unhappy too. So are the mothers of mama's boys, come to think of it. Unhappy days are here again.

15. Never marry a man who is not admired by respectable male friends. The people in the world who know a man best are the men he works and plays with. They know well if he is a cheat, a thug, a loser. You may marry a man who does not have female friends. If anything, you should be suspicious of a man whose friends are principally female. The men may be avoiding him, and there is a reason for that.

Which are your favorites?

Letter to My Boss

2008-09-30T00:23:00.000-07:00

G-Chat Status: Meredith Cooper
is over the corporate ladder.

TO: Roz, Regional Manager, Owner of my employed soul.

FROM: Meredith, Director

SUBJECT: Performance Review

BODY:

Tonight Shelly and I stayed at Prep until 11:45 working on her college essays. Finally home, I'm coming down off the adrenaline rush that kept me patiently editing, musing, discussing--a smile or joke to boost morale--and finally we close the day. This is a bearable exhaustion: to accomplish a task that means her world.

I don't intend to make a habit of staying late, knowing full well that better planning would have prevented my over-extension, but tonight, it was my joy. I signed on with Prep for nights like these. I'm tired, but it's the good kind of tired. The drive home was different than it has been for the last weeks, months even. Today mattered.

I must confess, my heart has never been in the numbers. When Keith, yourself, and I have time to sit and discuss my performance, I plan to leave salary by the wayside. Nights like these give more purpose to my position than any billing report ever could. They remind me that I never intended to climb any corporate ladder in the first place. In the last few months, I believe I've mistaken what I could do with what I should do and got caught up in the anxiety of selling programs, a yes-man looking toward the financial pay-off that I assumed would make it all worthwhile. I abandoned myself in the process.

By all means, I will continue to do what needs to be done at Prep Center. I have every intention of honoring my commitment to stay for at least two more years, and I will continue to strive toward excellence in my work because I feel that my performance here is a direct reflection of who I am and what I believe. If there is a review to be had, perhaps these are the things to discuss.

Over

2008-09-23T01:12:00.000-07:00

It's late.

I'm at that delicate balance between wired and crashing, where I know that all sleep requires is horizontal stillness...perhaps merely laying my head down here on the dining table, where instead I feverishly peck at my keyboard.

Read college essays, give feedback--round two, three, four. An excel sheet sums up the future for thirteen high school seniors. I double check the bills and initial each one. M. Y. C. The letters blend together. A symbol meaning I'm here. Duty done. Unexpected expectations, fulfilled.

With the exception of the concerned parent in Korea I just emailed, the rest of my world sleeps. On nights like tonight, I remember the silent strength I learned in high school--that second wind I discovered on late nights spent finishing a book for AP English or another costume for the stage production I designed. A perseverance beyond the norm--my daddy's "do what you have to" attitude, applied and mastered. Somehow, busyness was happier then.

Last week, my pastor and his wife were gracious enough to invite me over after work (despite my late night schedule) to process through some of my current frustrations with life. The conversation quickly turned into a discussion of God's sovereignty. What if--I posed my greatest fear--I did something to step out of the will of God?

Nearly a week later, Scott's reply rings clearly: you have to remember that you are exactly where God wants you--that there's nothing you did, or could have done, to step outside of that. This may not be where He wants you a year from now or even in just a few months, but if you really believe that what Scripture says is true--then you must also believe that you didn't make a mistake somewhere along the line that surprised God, nor does He have you in some holiness holding pen, waiting for you to figure a few things out before He gives you what you "really want." Here and now are in God's will. To think you can screw that up is to shrink God.

It's a lot of Christianese that I should probably clarify, although the creeping hours of night discourage me from it--his point was simply, trust in God.

At Shoreline, part of our mission statement is that we want to present everyone in West LA with "full and accurate picture of God." I enjoy striving toward that--seeing practically in my life where my weak faith directly correlates to a limited understanding of God's greatness. Bible verses, conditioned into memory like a secular mantra parade, can only have a lasting effect if I trust that the God who inspired them is really Who He says He is: perfectly loving, perfectly just, perfectly gracious, perfectly pure, perfectly holy, righteous, omniscient, omnipotent, and so on.

Then to know that this God--so big, so beyond my comprehension--also knows and cares for the intimate desires of my heart...it blows my mind.

In the middle of the night, when restlessness finally gives in to peace, I know it's a gift of God. Lately, I'm not particularly happy with my circumstances. I tend to feel anxious and overwhelmed, overworked, ineffective. Then, arching over it all, a gentle reminder that God is bigger. A children's song. A simple truth. Words from a good friend. Joy.

On my table, in a vase, two lilies open wide and full, a fragrance of life. A screwdriver still feels fixing my doornob. A wine class, emptied.

I close my day.

Men and Women

2008-09-17T00:10:00.001-07:00

Lots of news lately in there Mere-o-sphere on Men versus Women, especially with our current political climate and my own musings about life and Panning.

I am reminded that just after "It is not good for the man to be alone" (Gen 2:18), God punishes the woman for her sin with, "Your desire will be for your husband, and he will rule over you." (3:16). Many cite the Fall of Man (a Christianese term meaning, when Adam and Eve first sinned) as the point that pitted men and women against each other. One commentary expands on this idea:

"...the entrance of sin has made that duty [of submission] a punishment, which otherwise it would not have been. If man had not sinned, he would always have ruled with wisdom and love; and, if the woman had not sinned, she would always have obeyed with humility and meekness; and then the dominion would have been no grievance: but our own sin and folly make our yoke heavy."

Point being, since shortly after the beginning, men and women have fought each other for power and dominance--both parties unsatisfied and denying their roles. This goes well beyond women wanting to work (which I don't believe Scripture speaks against, an entire topic that is presented much better by many others, especially recently, like here, here and here) and men not wanting to marry. At the heart of it, we are walking away from God's design and blaming each other for our own failures. For men and women to act properly toward each other, sometimes even just to get along, requires and act of God, and if we want to see this actually pan out, we need to pray toward it.

"How can you say to your brother, 'Let me take the speck out of your eye,' when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye." (Matthew 7:4-5)

In other news, my toes are still numb, I still don't know who Anonymous Number 2/5 is on the Peter Pan Post, and despite tirading hypothetically on the subject, I don't feel any closer to actually improving the state of male-female relationships in my life.

Teacher, can't I just copy the answers from the back of the book and be finished with it?

2008-09-16T00:32:00.000-07:00

For the last 48 hours or so, my g-chat status has said, "Meredith Cooper has lots of questions."

It really wasn't the wisest thing to put up for all to see, because as encrypted messages go, this one solicits quite a lot of, well, questioning. In the midst of pondering several big issues in life, I'm not exactly ready to explain myself to the everyday gmail-passerby.

Still, my vague announcement offers insight into the psyche of Mere. On some level, I want people to have an idea, at least amorphously, that I'm struggling, but rarely do I want to get into the nitty gritty of it. I avoid episodes (like one I had the other night) where I involuntarily break down in front of one of those friends who's really not "in" enough for me to know that the sight of my mascara strewn face won't make him run for the hills. I keep it together because despite preaching vulnerability (and I think perhaps actually being fairly good at it at some point in my past), I prefer that people see me as a strong and pleasant person. I don't want to be a burden, I think, forgetting that by allowing others to bear my burdens, I afford them an opportunity to display Christlikeness. I forget that intimacy and fellowship are the first steps to being like Christ, how only in community can we actually carry out many of the commands of scripture--to be forgiving, patient, to lead and share wisdom.

So I did post for the world to see, and am furthering the cause with this, that I am praying through some life stuff, that I am asking questions of God and waiting patiently and persistantly for His response. A few people have messaged me to offer an answer--to one I jokingly finished his sentence: yes, I do know the answer, "Jesus!" I hoped the exclamation point was sufficient to convey the childlike (albeit sarcastic) enthusiasm that I once used to answer every question in Sunday School. It was a joke. It felt cliche. But I knew it was true.

It's like so much math homework, I realized. I know the solution--the answers to all the odds are in the back of the book--but now I'm mulling through the process of showing my work. Like I tell my students, you have to practice it so it will sink in. The homework is just extra studying, extra practice for the test.

And so it is, I assume, in my life. It's not in the finishing that life comes, not even always in the tests, but life, rather, is lived in the daily journey. Seemingly cliche, but true in a way that rises above it. Sometimes the questions are hard--I don't always know how to get there, but at least I know what the end point looks like, what I should start running toward and why.

Correcting Peter Pan means more than just thinking happy thoughts.

2008-09-08T14:13:00.001-07:00

**Updated in response to Anonymous and insightful comment**

I'm hesitant to post this article, "Why I Am Leaving Guyland," not because I find any flaw in its logic or inappropriateness in its tone. Rather, I fear that, for the men in my life, it would be coming from the wrong source.

To be a girl referencing an article about "Peter Pan Syndrome" and "Adultescence" rarely comes without the slightest twinge of bitterness. It's like how I couldn't casually recommend a self-help book on the calming effect of an organized home to a messy roommate who might legitimately need the advice--there's a more appropriate way to address such an issue. In many cases, the source of reproach can make all the difference.

But what actually struck me from the article, aside from the legitimate argument against encouraging prolonged childhood, and the angle I wanted to discuss, were the statistics presented about women's salaries:

"Last year, researchers at Queens College in New York determined that women between 21 and 30 in at least five major cities, including Dallas, Chicago and New York, have not only made up the wage gap since 1970—they now earn upwards of 15 percent more than their male counterparts. As a result, many men feel redundant."

"Not enough!" I can hear my old feminism professor's tirade ringing in my ears. Until she deems it perfect equality, she will not be satisfied. Yet, I'm baffled. On one hand, I am tempted to think it positive that women are finding their place in life and finally being paid more equally for their work. There are more of us in college now and more taking executive positions. Though maybe still not equal, we are definitely making some great progress.

Progress. Then I think about all the different women I know who are getting master's degrees because, without the marriage and family they expected, they just kept learning in order vie for a career. I think about how, when work feels overwhelming, I sometimes wish I'd followed Plan A, which would have me at home with kids instead. We didn't mean to make our men feel redundant. We just didn't know what else to do. We progressed--that is, we, to our detriment, moved in a direction we were told was forward.

It's no wonder I find myself drawn to guys who are in the upper 20s/early 30s range. Guys my age are generally still figuring themselves out (of course so are some of the 30-somethings). As I'm getting a little more settled, I'm generally interested in men who are on the same trajectory, which often means five to ten years my senior.

In discussing the article earlier today, a friend of mine put it like this: "I think the point was that the women were surpassing men because women were acting like adults where the men still wanted to act like kids." His words ring harshly, but as one of the men I know who is definitely a man, I figure he's allowed to put it that way. I, as a woman, dare not.

My question in all of this hits a little more practically. If this is the problem, what can we do to help? As a woman, how do I best discourage this kind of behavior in the men I know without coming across as bitter, cynical, judging, etc, etc? Ultimately, what honors God the most?

I have a hunch there's a balance somewhere between women grabbing at power and men throwing hands up in disgust and letting us have it. Eve did it to Adam, and ever since, the fight for who ends up on top has permeated the battle of the sexes.

But what I find most frustrating is that the church is not exempt from this problem. Call me elitist, but when I see an issue like this, it's easy to attribute it simply to not knowing God and not knowing any better--the rest of the world doesn't follow God's design for how men and women should relate to one another, and therefore, encounter problems. However, proof that church people are just as messed up, just as needy of grace, we run into the same blunders. We say we follow God, and He tells us how to do relationships right...but we mess it all up.

I imagine what it would look like if we lived counter-culturally in this area--if we pursued marriages that honored God, that were passionate and fun, that encouraged and built character, relationships that proved to the rest of the world that God knew what he was talking about when he said, "It is not good for man to be alone." Our generation runs from marriage because we have shoddy examples of it, but if the church could show off marriage in a real and tangible way, what a beautiful reflection that would be of its designer, our God.

If we were a little more pro-marriage out here in the West Coast Church, those of us still single might actually want to pair off and settle down ourselves. Meanwhile, we need not nag our men to just "grow up" or whine about how "we are worth it" and, why don't they understand that? No, God is worth it--His truth is worth it, and relationships themselves, as God designed, are innately good and should be pursued as such. We could all benefit from a little more pointing to and pursing Christ and a little less angst, frustration, and selfish ambition. To God be the glory.

"So flee youthful passions and pursue righteousness, faith, love, and peace, along with those who call on the Lord from a pure heart. Have nothing to do with foolish, ignorant controversies; you know that they breed quarrels. And the Lord's servant must not be quarrelsome but kind to everyone, able to teach, patiently enduring evil, correcting his opponents with gentleness. God may perhaps grant them repentance leading to a knowledge of the truth, and they may escape from the snare of the devil, after being captured by him to do his will."

-2 Timothy 2:22-26

On Women, Onward Women

2008-08-26T11:03:00.000-07:00

Perhaps because I still have a rosy idea of what it will look like, I can't wait to practice submission with a godly husband. I hate submitting to my boss.

I think, how beautiful it will be to submit to someone who desires my good, a man who has committed to me, and I to him...someone God designed to uniquely balance and sanctify me. While I know on a cognitive level that it will be very hard in a lot of ways, I long to experience the joys and blessings that God promises in marriage. My heart dismisses the difficulty because I know, or at least I think I do, that the highs will outweigh the lows in a wonderful way.

The workplace, on the other hand, is not designed for my welfare but instead exists as an institution meant to use me for what I'm worth and compensate accordingly. It's like prostitution.

I have to get up this morning so the plumber can fix a few things in my new place. I read some old journal entries--things I wrote but was afraid to share last month, things I feel strong enough to read again. I read God's word:

"Servants, be subject to your masters will all respect, not only to the good and gentle but also to the unjust. For this is a gracious thing, when, mindful of God, one endures sorrows while suffering unjustly."

-I Peter 2:18-19

I wanted to read about women, relationships, submission. I forgot that this part came first, but God knew and, after last night, I think he also knew I needed to read those words this morning.

When work gets hard, I am often tempted to resent my job--thinking of how I wanted a marriage and a family and instead was cursed by a career. I'm embarrassed by the thoughts that seep in at any opportune moment, causing me to stumble, to doubt. It's easy to forget that God has also destined this stage in my life as preparation for the things to come--be it marriage and family or some other adventure. But this morning He lets me see that I'm learning submission in another context.

Last night, in the dark of my new apartment, I fumbled for a piece of paper on which to write the electrician's phone number. She spoke too fast on my voice mail. I need to buy a lamp. In the back of my Bible, I found a note card from the first week of our summer Bible Study. On it we were asked to write something--I can't remember the charge--but whatever the question, my answer was two bullet points: "humility" and "staying soft." I think I prayed for those things this last June.

This morning, a few journal entries, two of which are previously posted, reminded me that God was actually working in my heart on these issues. They may be the biggest two that I have to battle for the next few years. Or this may be the calm before the real storm. Regardless, I see answered prayers.

These last days have been full of introspection. Without internet (this I write at Dolores Restaurant down the street), I have less to distract me. Between listening to Cornerstone's relationship series and a couple of late night talks with good friends, I'm mulling through the desires of my heart and over analyzing, or perhaps analyzing over again, what it means to be a woman.

As a pre-teen, I remember sitting on my bed with my little sister, trying to teach her the point of I Peter 3:3-4, an idea that mom reinforced with her old-school mantras: "Pretty is as pretty does."

I spoke to my sister boldly, "'Do not let your adornment be merely outward: arranging the hair, wearing gold, or putting on fine apparel. But rather, let it be the inner person of the heart, with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is very precious in the sight of God.' See, Christina--it's in the Bible, just like mom says: Pretty is on the inside."

Even if I barely understood what it was, I knew I wanted a gentle and quiet spirit. I was a loud kid. I'm a loud adult. But I hope that God continues to develop a gentleness in me that beautifully displays His glory as our Comforter, Healer, and Helper.

A couple of nights ago, as often happens with a particular friend of mine, goodbye turned into a marathon conversation. We talked of the church, failures in community, society, work, and the weaknesses of how men and women deal with pent up frustration. Ideas well worth another post, what I walked away with, overall, was a grand sense of appreciation for how he looks at the world differently than I do. Women certainly have a tendency towards gossip--a harmful dumping of emotions that is quite unfortunately, socially acceptable in America today. So when we get caught in the middle of it, we don't call ourselves out quickly enough. Men, or at least some of them, will notice it faster. Godly men, will call you on it.

In the same way, women retain a certain perceptiveness, care, and understanding that allows us to minister to others in ways that men are not as effective. It's the same balance that makes submission work--godly love and leadership in a man encourages his wife's humble submission just as a woman's gentleness and care builds up her husband toward Christ's likeness. Humility. Staying soft. Iron sharpens iron.

A True Story

2008-08-26T10:45:00.000-07:00

July 20, 2008

As I opened one particularly musty box, I was thankful that the Texas heat necessitated crisp air-conditioning in every home. Each time I come back, I notice the difference just a little bit more.

This afternoon was dedicated to pouring through my old things--sorting boxes into new boxes--what I should save versus what to trash or give away. The final box was miniature linens--doll bedding, a little mattress, the little silk patchwork quilt my grandmother made. I lifted piece by piece, soaking in the smell of myself from well over fifteen years ago. Then I saw her--the baby doll I drug around from age one to whenever I was finally convinced I was too old for dolls. I held her close to my heart and breathed in. The old blanket she was wrapped in caught a few more tears as they fell through my closed eyes--a few more tears to add to all the ones she'd dried long ago. All of a sudden, the walls I'd built around my heart didn't feel so sturdy.

I carried Baby with me as I finished putting things away. Making my way to the other side of the bed, I knelt beside my doll chest and opened its fragile wooden doors. I was almost afraid to touch them, to thumb my way through the years represented by so many dresses and shoes. Instead, I collapsed, Baby in my arms, onto my bed. My mom watched it all silently, herself trying not to cry. I think she could feel it too--my heart actually breaking. I found my softness there in those worn cloth hands and chipped blue eyes. Baby still smiled.

"Do you want me to leave you alone for a little while?"

"No it's alright."

A pause. She walked around to sit beside me. Her small-town Tennessee accent melted through her words, "Well I'm afraid if I stay, I'm liable to cry too." And she did.

I looked up through my own tears and whispered a secret I've been so afraid to ask for so long: "Do you think that one day I'll have a little girl who will play with these dolls again?"

"Yes, honey, I know it. You will. God knows. He knows the desires of your heart..."

I'd forgotten them. Buried them, walled them out, or burned them away.

But God remembered. He helped me find myself once again.

A Short Story

2008-08-26T10:33:00.000-07:00

July 6, 2008

Cherrie looked up from her book. Somehow today, ancient civilizations didn't captivate her like they always had. The air was dry but hot. Deep inside, the pit of her stomach revolted the scene that played with cinematic perfection in her head--Tom and Rachel were at lunch again. Rachel picked a fry from his plate, unsatisfied with the salad she chose. Their eyes met dreamily--the quiet combination of conquest and giving in. It wasn't their union that irked Cherrie so, although righteously, she knew it should be. Instead, it was her raging jealousy that initiated this perpetual cycle of self-loathing. She knew it wasn't right--her doctrine was sound--but the slinking misgivings haunted her whenever life stilled for a moment. Unable to slip back into the anonymity of the textbook's past, Cherrie wrestled today. She was coveting idols. From such an unsettled place, settling sounded so good.

"My relative forced me to take energy drinks, telling me to stay active and to make the most out of a day."

2008-08-18T21:35:00.000-07:00

As I read this essay aloud, the Prep staff couldn't keep it together, each of us imagining a version of Keith, our boss, holding this student against his will and pouring Monster down his constricting throat. Kids say the funniest things.

Every year, the process goes something like this--we ask the students to give us a draft of what they'd like to write in their college essay. Everyone puts it off until the last minute. Most of them are somehow still shocked when we reject their underdeveloped musings.

"These are ALL re-writes! Why are we even here?!" Keith doesn't bother to mask his irritation. "I'm so disappointed in them."

Ashanti and I, the broody, literary ones in the bunch, fight for the kids: "They're trying to say something here--we just need to figure out how to direct and shape it. Obviously if they wrote about it, then it means something to them...we just have to help them define why it matters."

It's a repeat of last year, whose highlights included one guy's discussion of how he admired Hitler and another American-born student who some of the teachers assumed was ESL. This year touts some bitter PKs and the line, "I supposed that they became very religious since they were closing in their last days in life." But the essays are never good during the first round.

I enjoy this whole process for several reasons: first and foremost, it's a really neat way to get to know the kids I work with--their deepest stuff comes out in these essays and it allows for some cool conversations about life and all that goes into it. It's also a delightful bonding experience for the main staff. I think the students would cringe, cry or worse if they were to sit in on our meetings, watching us hash out what we like and don't and why. In the end, though, we come out with some really beautiful stuff--like last year's essay about make up or the one about feeding dogs a raw diet. Quirky, insightful, wonderful. I love my job.

"For the first week of summer, I would wake up to see the sun at its brightest: the afternoon."

Obligatory Olympics Post

2008-08-16T21:26:00.000-07:00

I have nothing insightful to say about the Olympics. I, like billions of other people around the world, have been sucked in. I don't sleep. I don't socialize. I stay glued to the television. To stave off withdrawals during commercial breaks, I bake (because I can't figure out how to use Greg and Liz's TiVo). I know I'm getting dumber, and I'm pretty sure the obsession is un-Christian of me. In fact, I didn't even think to be upset by how skimpy the athletic uniforms are. So instead of depth, I'm offering commentary in the form of a few "thanks for participating" awards.

Most Eligible Chinese Gymnast: the toothy girl
She's finally losing her baby teeth and getting those permanent ones in. Must mean she is post-puberty. Ah to be 16 again...

Cheesiest Male Gymnast: Jonathan Horton
He reminds me of this guy I used to date... I am so ashamed.

Best Gymnastics Moment: watching Nastia Liukin hug her dad
I'm a self-proclaimed sap when any father-daughter country song comes on the radio, so watching Liukin and her coach-slash-gold-medalist-slash-dad celebrate her gold was precious. Besides, what a rad name is Nastia? I'm totally calling my kid that.

Hottest Olympic Swimmer: Ryan Lochte
Doesn't matter if his gold-count is down, it's Lochte over Phelps in my book. Swim cap or tousled hair, I'd take him any which way...preferably several which ways... I'm thinking that swimmers might be the way to go for me. They have no body hair. I like this. Also a good upgrade--the swim pant-suit-thing replacing the Speedo.
Runner up: the big French guy...because he's a beast...

Best Swimming Moment: watching the judge behind Michael Phelps repeatedly check him out while he's setting up to race.
"Making sure he's not cheating," an excellent excuse...
Runner Up: ok ok...that 4x100 mens relay comeback was pretty cool too.

Best Athlete Group to Date: the fencing guys
Most of them are from Harvard or other such super-nerdy schools. Nerdy and athletic...what a combo...

Most Tedious Event to Watch: the Marathon.
Granted, I would be lucky to finish in TWICE as long, but still...well over two hours and counting...

(stay tuned, more to come)

Deep Waters Make for an Exciting Swim

2008-08-06T19:56:00.000-07:00

"I hope you don't walk away from this discouraged--that's not my intention..."

These words from my boss today made the difference between the state I'm in now and the fitful panic attack I anticipated having as soon as I found five minutes to myself. It was another long day of meetings and conference calls with the only two people at my work who have enough authority to make my life a living hell. Every now and then the regional manager comes in a hurricane to my center, asking all the questions I'm unprepared for and none of ones I had on tap. My bosses expect me to know everything that has happened in the last six weeks of the summer program for each of the 50 or so students that walk through the Prep Center doors every day. As director, part of my responsibility is to be able to spit back at any given moment the specifics of each kid: which subjects they struggle in, what their last three or so essay and test grades were in each class, who their parents are, etc. I split them into categories and scribble notes and codes all throughout their red folders. I create Excel sheet after Excel sheet to keep myself organized, and still, it's that 20% I'm fuzzy on that I get asked about during these tirades. Meanwhile, they throw little projects my way and I have to stay on top of curriculum and billing and ordering food and college tours and fall projections and hiring and making copies and the alarm is broken and this room is too hot and this room is too cold and Stacey and Grace's ride is late and Dennis wants to leave early and...and...and...and...and.....

I get overwhelmed.

It's not the truth--the tasks don't run together nearly as badly as I make it sound--but it feels that way some days. I know at least on some level that my bosses really do like me. They've assured me of my job security on multiple occasions and every so often they throw me a line or two that reminds me that they think I'm more than a hopeless case. Keith is training me for management, sculpting me into a mini version of himself.

What I realized today, or recalled rather, is that this is exactly what I signed up for when I asked for the job. The higher your rank, the more responsibility weighs on your head. At the end of the day, most everything is my fault...which is ok with me because what I'm doing isn't normal for someone with my age and education. My theatre degree didn't prepare me for crunching numbers, selling our services, or managing employees. I didn't rise in the ranks after putting the time in, getting to know the company, learning the tricks of the trade. My life is a blessed accident.

Part of what I bargained for (albeit unknowingly) in getting a job I don't deserve are the tides of criticism--I could have put in my time somewhere and gotten to where I am slowly but surely. Instead, I jumped feet first into murky waters. And, naturally, swimming to the surface under these conditions involves mistakes, aches and pains, and swallowing more of my pride than the water I'm choking on. But I can tell I'm getting stronger. On a day like today, after taking a beating by the undercurrent and getting tossed back to shore...it doesn't make me cry this time around.

Weasels, Work Husbands, and The Emotional Affair

2008-08-04T21:01:00.001-07:00

"So what, exactly, constitutes an emotional affair – and are you having one without even knowing it?"

One of those dramatic opening lines intended to get you reading an article, this one's a tricky question--something I've come across before, but never really in relation to me, personally. I'm single, after all, so I cannot have an affair since I have no one to cheat on. Yet, as I was perusing some articles online this morning, this question struck me. In the last six months or so, God has had me mulling over ideas of weasels, friends with benefits, and other such sordid affairs. The hook-up culture, which I've talked about a lot before, goes beyond just the physical, especially within Christian circles. In the church, we will obviously (I hope) avoid the random sexual encounters with others that permeate our culture, but it's those close friendships that I think are much trickier. And when you label it "affair," suddenly it seems a lot more serious. My gut reaction is to begin questioning each one of my relationships--how am I supposed to be godly if my interactions with men are inappropriate? Resolved, I should avoid male friends altogether.

My Dad, I think, disagrees: "Mere, you really should just enjoy the friendships you have for what they are." He means, "Stop being a drama queen." And he's right. I should definitely add that to my To Do list. But there's still something to be said for guarding my heart--an idea that both he and any of my other confidants would support. So there's the rub: at what point are friends dangerous?

Someone wise gave me this definition: if you're looking to the person for validation, to fill any sort of void, then it's not a healthy relationship. I guess it has a lot to do with attitude...leaving me with a couple of options. The quick fix is to avoid interaction altogether. But on the whole, I know that it's my heart that needs some changing.

Anyways, for your reading pleasure, this is the article about emotional affairs, and here is another interesting one about the "work husband." Not super keen on all of their advice, but it's something to start chewing.

I'm making a dress for this wedding because if I'm going to be the only person over the age of 12 who is single, I'm going to have to look FABULOUS...

2008-07-18T22:38:00.000-07:00

Today at Walmart, instead of running into someone I knew from high school (probably because I wasn't in there long enough), I stood fairly patiently in line behind two little old ladies who were buying Fancy Feast cat food...in bulk. Sixty or so cans and about ten minutes later, I finally checked out with my contact solution, dismissing the fear that those ladies foreshadowed my future.

On the plane ride here I had a bit of a revelation. In an effort to ignore the smelly awkward man next to me, I wrote in my journal.

I'm headed to Texas for a quick look at the life I thought I'd always get.
Wanted this story, by the book, but found my way
To LA--instead
Of all those dreams
God gives me new things
And I find joy.
Since at the day's end I see it never mattered where I went,
But Who was next to me.

It's almost too easy to feel overwhelmed by the pressure to be married here. As I planned this vacation home around a wedding of one of my best friends from high school, I started to fear the inevitable--I am going to stand out like a sore thumb. Sure enough, at the bachelorette party, I was the only person there who was single. And at quite a few functions so far, the question came up like unsettled indigestion: "So is there someone special in your life?" Plenty of special people, but none to satisfy their question. I smile sweetly and say no.

If I let myself, I will slip into that selfsame daydream where I stay in Texas and my life turns into the picket fence existence I imagined growing up. According to that course, I, too, should be entertaining a church full of guests and a new last name. But there was a day, several years back, when I made a tearful choice to leave all of the Lone Star State behind.

And God went with me into the wild.

I packed my things and went on an adventure--full of loneliness and trials, excitement, new names and faces, places I never knew I could go. I've been to heights and depths.

And still, God came too.

As I look back, it's tempting to ask the what ifs and ease my mind by down playing the possibilities of what might have been...all to convince myself that I made the right choice in going this route because the other would have been stagnant and boring. The truth is, it might have been just as fulfilling to stay home. Life would have had its own, albeit different, thrills.

But when it comes to whether or not I am happy that I took the different rabbit trails I took, to whether or not I am pleased with my current trajectory, I really have no opinion.

Because my joy is complete purely in knowing that my God was beside me all the while. It has little to do with the specifics of what has happened in my life, and everything to do with the specific Person who walks with me day by day.

So I will blow whichever way the wind takes me,
Anchored to the One who leads me home.

At the risk of being obnoxious...

2008-07-18T21:07:00.000-07:00

At different points in my life, I go through phases where I don't really like children. I don't ooh and aah at newborns. In fact, I think they are usually kind of ugly. They are wrinkly and awkward and cry too much.

That being said, I am in love with my brother's new kid. It is ridiculous. So here is my obligatory proud Aunt Meredith post...

Dad sleeping with the baby

Bradly yawns...I think he looks a little bit like an old man...

Double chins and awkward faces...actually look cute to me..

They are, like...tiny...

personality.

I think I'm going to like this kid.

"Cuz My heart is damaged...damaged..."

2008-07-11T21:59:00.000-07:00

After hearing this song on the radio this morning, with a van full of college-bound high schoolers, I shot my mouth off like I often do:

"Oh...my gosh--this song is ridiculous! Trust me ladies, no guy wants to hear you gab on about how epic your baggage is. It is the quickest way to make them run for the hills!"

Despite the passion of that soapbox moment, I should have offered a more rational clarification--it's not that guys are insensitive and can't deal with the fact that you've been hurt in the past. I guess what irks me about the song is that it glorifies the sort of jaded mentality that permeates so much of the dating world I've seen and experienced. Not only that, but the girl specifically demands that her guy be the one to "fix it." Heresy, if I've ever heard it.

By this point in my life, nearly everyone I meet seems to have their own version of the scorned lover story. Courtship is a dead horse we revive every now and then, just so we can shoot it in the face. It's no secret that our modern system of mate-matching has its flaws. With little guidance coming from our family or the church, a lot of us end up with a blemish or two on the ol' dating record. Be it a brightly patterned Vera Bradley or something we picked up from a street vendor downtown for ten bucks, a lot of us are toting some serious luggage.

Tonight I was reading a post on Stuff Christians Like that compared unforgiveness to carrying around a dead body. I think relational baggage works the same way. It's not that men (or women for that matter) are insensitive to the hurts of our past relationships--it's just that after a while, the stench starts to really ruin things. All that dead weight (ha) makes it difficult to frolic through the daisy fields of a new love. And despite my notorious pessimism about all things romance-related, I like that word, frolic. It makes me think of another word I like: joy.

At Bible Study this week we talked about finding our joy in Christ. If I were to live my life underscored by this poppy, top-40 number, no amount of synthesizers could drown out the hollow cry for salvation: "How ya gonna fix it...fix it...fix it?" We live in a fallen world, where pain is an inevitable part of life. It shouldn't shock me at all when people turn to one thing or another for a salve, some aspirin...a tranquilizer.

But as for me, I can sing a different tune, because through Christ, God already fixed all of it, allowing me to drop the cadaver already...and leaving me free to frolic.

One of those girls..

2008-06-02T22:48:00.000-07:00

My mother would be horrified.

Today at the grocery I passed by the section where they have the pre-cut, pre-washed fruit and bought two containers of it because I am now in a "season" of life where I no longer have time to cut my own fruit. My boss lives every day this way, and has encouraged me to do the same: "Never do a single thing that you can pay someone else to do." Ah, what a philosophy...

I could use the excuse that there's no reason for me to buy an entire watermelon--where would I store it? (The answer, in our fairly empty fridge) Would I actually eat the whole thing? (The answer, yes) But then I also bought grapes--pre-plucked from the vine and washed by hands not my own--because, yes, this next couple of weeks will be *that* busy.

The One with the Blond Girl

2008-05-29T00:17:00.000-07:00

Carlos is my boss's catch-all guy. He runs errands all over town and steals drinks from our fridge every now and again. Last week I got in trouble for building a bookshelf (I hate IKEA) that Carlos was supposed to build for me. He didn't come, so I took matters into my own hands. Wearing heels. And let me just say, I am pretty legit with a hammer. AND, I built the bookcase in half the time it took Carlos and his lackey to put the doors on it...which are slightly crooked. Still.

Today, after getting reamed in an "emergency" staff meeting (meaning, they called it last minute to tell me how much I suck), I learned that Carlos, among his other skills, cannot tell the difference between the tutoring centers that Keith owns.

Prep One, the elementary center, is "The one with Lisa Teacher."

Prep Two, middle school, is "The one with Ashanti."

Prep Center, the high school center where I'm the director... "The one with the blond girl."

Today, I don't even have a name.

What hurts the most is being so close, and having so much to say, but watching you walk away...

2008-05-17T12:51:00.000-07:00

"To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket — safe, dark, motionless, airless — it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside of Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell."

- C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves

One of my roommates left me today, so yesterday, in an effort to feel involved in her life for perhaps the last tangible time, I caught up on her blog, which is where I found this ^ quoted. That, coupled with recent events in my own life, has got me thinking about risk and adventure...

When it comes to committing to things, I think what freaks me out the most is that it will feel like I'm stuck in a rut. This is the root of my anxiety at work. On a bad day, I can't help but think, "Geez...I promised to stay for 2 WHOLE YEARS...?!" I start to wonder if the rest of my life will be waking up to the same old routine, one crappy day after another. And all I'll have to come home to is a slew of cats who, when I fall down the stairs one day, will eat my dead body like in that episode of CSI...

My mind spirals downward quite dramatically.

Neuroses aside, I believe it's this mentality that drives our gun-shy generation. It's hard to think of committing to a job or a man or whatever...because, besides always wondering what else could have come along, you never know if, once you sign up for said commitment, it will take an unexpected turn to Dullsville...or worse. What if those co-workers you enjoy so much end up transferred elsewhere? What if half-way through your contract, you have to take on a tough client that makes your life a living hell? What if after "I do" comes "I don't know how to manage money"? What if the sex is bad...?

Stagnant, we question away a lot of great opportunities.

My dad likes to remind me that there is an innate goodness to intimacy. That when you commit to a spouse, you are able to experience a deeper connection, a more epic kind of love, than you would get with a surface relationship. In the security of a marriage (done the way it's intended), spouses feel more freedom to be intimate on all levels because they know that the other person won't unexpectedly leave them one day. You can trust that person with your secrets, your fears, your dreams. Simply put, the benefits rock.

In a similar way, many employers offer benefits to a person who they feel like will be loyal to the company, stuff like bonuses, pay raises, dental/health insurance, and so forth. They appreciate knowing you will stick around, and they do what they can to make it worth your while.

Unfortunately, I don't think we really have a clear picture of what these benefits actually entail. My own (ethereal) ideas of intimacy in marriage are based purely on hearsay. When I think of love, like Lewis mentions, I think of vulnerability, emotional instability...a potential for hurt, disappointment, and a slew of other negatively connoted vocabulary. But if the mantra is true, "It's better to have loved and lost..." then it might also be said, it's better to commit through the valleys, than to never experience the mountain's height.

When you sign up for something long term, you are assured a similar burn to that which comes from loving--it will not be a smooth ride. But at least it will be a ride. And that certainly beats the hellish doldrums of paralyzed inaction.

Standing in this hue, commitment entails an innate adventurousness.

Why I Read

2008-05-16T14:31:00.001-07:00

At the risk of being called jaded...

Pursue Her

I love when I stumble across something that not only speaks to my heart, but does so in a way that reflects back to scripture and no-nonsense wisdom and advice.

Try this as an ice breaker..

2008-05-13T01:07:00.000-07:00

One of my kids asked me a very important question today that I will pose to all my readers:

"You have a monkey, a snake, and a bird. How do you carry them?"

Let me know what you would answer and I'll tell you what it means about your personality. (And I'll tell you my answers...it's a trip...)

Feels Like Home

2008-05-13T00:33:00.000-07:00

Country music, for me, is nostalgia.

That means when I cite artists or lyrics on my blog, they're rarely country. Nashville isn't really known for the deep and meaningful (no offense to Tim and Faith), although I will say there are several artists that have impressed me over the years. And I keep listening because the songs are lively, they connect me to my roots.

This morning in the car, I was particularly struck by this Kenny Chesney song. With each new verse, he uses some of the most interesting, poignant comparisons. Granted, the song's pretty depressing, but with a voice like Kenny's, it makes you melt anyways...

Better as a Memory

I move on like a sinners prayer
and letting go like a levee breaks
Walk away as if I don't care
Learn to shoulder my mistakes
Or built to fade like your favorite song
Get reckless when there's no need
Laugh as your stories ramble on
Break my heart, but it won't bleed
My only friends are pirates
That's just who I am
But I'm better as a memory than as your man

Never sure when the truth won't do
I'm pretty good on a lonely night
Or move on the way a storm blows through
And never stay, but then again, I might.
I struggle sometimes to find the words
Always sure until I doubt
Walk a line until it blurs
Build walls too high to climb out
But I'm honest to a fault
That's just who I am
I'm better as a memory than as your man

I see you leaning, you're bound to fall
I don't want to be that mistake
I'm just a dreamer and nothing more
You should know it before it gets too late

Cause goodbyes are like a roulette wheel
You never know where they're gonna land
First you're spinning, then you're standing still
Left holding a losing hand
But one day you're gonna find someone
And right away you'll know it's true
That all of your sinking's done
It was just a part of the passing through
Right there in that moment you'll finally understand
That I was better as a memory than as your man
Better as a memory than as your man

Congratulations! Your answers show that you are most like the Princess...

2008-05-10T18:59:00.001-07:00

Megara!!

With the beauty (and fickle, fiery nature) of a goddess, you have the ability to turns the heads of both man and titan, which can cause quite the stir all throughout the polis. "Street-wise" epitomizes your knack for manipulating any situation in your favor, though you are loyal to a fault and tend to finagle your way into overly-binding contracts. Still, your feminine wiles are useful for many an ill-gotten-gain, and can often function as a preemptive strive against anyone who might be out to hurt you. But don't be fooled, your saucy sarcasm and quick wit will only go so far to mask all that baggage in your past. Deep down you're as jaded as Mount Olympus is high and tend to keep men at a comfortable urn's length. However, when you do find a Wonder-boy willing to put forth the Herculean effort it is to love you despite all your flaws, hang on to him. He's one of a kind!

Tale as Old as Time

2008-05-10T15:11:00.000-07:00

Anytime I talk about my side job as a princess for ThePrincessParty.com, everyone always has a guess as to which princess I play. "I bet you're Cinderella," they usually surmise. "You look like a Cinderella." Sometimes they guess others. It turns into a discussion of wigs and costumes, my skill as a balloon artist, and how, though I can play any of the white princesses, yes, I most often play Cinderella. I don't know why people always guess her. Is it just particularly easy to picture me with a broom in my hand waiting on my step-family?

I took one of those quizzes once: Which Disney Princess are You? I can't remember which one they said I was, mostly because when you take one of those online quizzes, it's easy to forge the answer you want. What is my favorite pastime? Reading in my own private library? Swimming with my sea friends? It doesn't take a genius to rig it to give you the princess you want. So whoever I particularly wanted at the time, I'm sure that's the princess I got to be.

But sometimes I do honestly wonder which princess I am most like. Actually, the thought came to me in a weird way the other day. See, last year in my feminism class, we talked all about how princesses are dangerous for young girls because they put all sorts of bad ideas in our heads. Besides glorifying wealth and society, the girls are horribly skinny ("no room for a womb") and promote unrealistic expectations about being swept off our feet, etc, etc.

One story that is particularly psychologically damaging is Beauty and the Beast. It uses the same rationale that keeps women in abusive relationships: it's ok if he's unrefined and has an anger management problem, he needs you and your love will transform him. It's also a classic example of Stockholm Syndrome, a phenomenon where victims of abduction gain a sense of loyalty (or fall in love with) their abductor. So, let's endorse those themes and instill in our young girls the desire to be captured by a monster...because in the end, if you're nice to him, he'll turn into Fabio.

How romantic.

Of course the movie does have it's merits. I mean, after all, how rad is it when the Beast wrecks all those wolves to save Belle or owns Gaston in the end? And if some guy gave me an epic library that housed every book ever printed...well, that's pretty swoon-worthy. The scenery is fantastic, pan shots of the ballroom as the couple dances under the stars, cut to the French countryside at sunset. My heart skips a beat when Belle sings,

I want adventure in the great wide somewhere.
I want it more than I can stand.
And for once I would be grand, to have someone understand.
I want so much more than they've got planned.

Damaging or no, I watched the movie twice today, cried at the end, and thought about maybe dying my hair back to brown. I love fairy tales.

"Are they going to live happily ever after, Mama?"

"Of course, my dear, of course."

Dangerously Friends

2008-05-06T00:58:00.000-07:00

I'm in need of a lot of wisdom.

So lately, when I turn to the Good Book, I find my way to Proverbs. This morning (amidst pondering all the stuff I wrote about in the previous post), I came across this one:

Proverbs 22:24-25--

"Make no friendship with a man given to anger, nor go with a wrathful man,
lest you learn his ways and entangle yourself in a snare."

It's the same rationale behind, "you are who you hang out with." If you surround yourself with gossips, you are likely to be given to gossip. If your friends smoke weed every weekend, you will probably end up high along with them--whether by peer pressure, boredom, or second hand smoke. At best, everyone else will assume you did anyway. Guilty by association.

Far be it for me to sound like I'm contradicting something in the Bible (and someone please call me out if this logic is out of line), but I don't think this proverb means to avoid sinners altogether. After all, Jesus hung out with some of the dregs of society--probably plenty of wrathful men, given to anger. Yet He did not sin.

Friends are really important. The close circle surrounding a person holds great sway over her state of being. And, certainly, I hope my most intimate friends are the types of people who will encourage and edify me. It seems logical, then, that I should avoid friendships with people that might "drag me down."

Still, in light of my desire to trust God rather than societal rules, I've started to wonder if maybe it is better for me to remain friends with some of the more dangerous people in my life. Whether those people are able to "give" me anything in return, I know they need to be loved, purely, sacrificially...as I know Christ has loved me. This means more than speaking to them occasionally or giving a friendly smile and wave as I walk down the street. It means I need to get involved in their lives, get right down into the grit with them and be willing to share my own weaknesses, trials, and victories as well. Whether the relationships are "safe" or "healthy" perhaps I should stop worrying about how they will affect me and trust God to take care of my heart instead of trying to do it myself (because let's be honest, He'll do a better job anyways).

There's probably a question of balance in this as well, but I can trust God to help me figure that out too. He is so rad.

Benchpress This

2008-05-05T23:14:00.000-07:00

In a roundabout way (the way things usually go when I start reading internet articles), I found myself at this site:

A Nation of Wimps

The premise of the blog and the book it's promoting is that parents nowadays are going to such great lengths to childproof life--hoping to save their offspring from any semblance of pain or heartache--that what actually happens is the generation they raise is in fact weaker because they don't know how to deal with failure. They suggest that being tethered to our parents via cell phones may be a large factor in the rise of adultescence (a term my dictionary doesn't recognize yet, but one that has gained popularity as a way to describe how 20-somethings nowadays still behave like teenagers). Since our parents do everything for us from filling out our college applications to coaching us through our job interviews and following up to negotiate salary on our behalf (yeah, apparently this happens quite often), we no longer have to be adults ourselves. To be sure, they probably do all of this out of love, but what they don't realize is that it's facilitating our neurosis. When we ship out for college, sans parentals, we no longer have someone glazing over the rough patches. A bad night of partying or a C on a term paper and we go spiraling into depression, anxiety, and panic disorders. We just can't deal.

I'll be the first to admit that when I am unsure about making a certain move at work or when I'm facing some boy-conundrum, I hit up my speed-dial: Mom and Dad. My parents are two of the wisest people I know. I respect their opinions greatly and quite often consult them when it comes to major decisions. Most assuredly, they've let me feel my share of hard knocks, whether on purpose or because they couldn't actually feasibly help me out, and I'm thankful for it. So despite the fact that I have dealt with my share of anxiety and such, I'm not ready to blame the parents. Actually, my brain went somewhere else--the church.

Yesterday I got into a conversation with a friend of mine who was sharing his frustration with church systems--bi-laws that we use to safeguard ourselves against sin. Although I'm not sure I understood his argument completely, we hit on a specific example of how this manifests: why, he posed, do we need two people to count the money from the offering? The rule is born out of a need for accountability--to be sure that no one is stealing--but he argued that it actually undermines our trust in God. Why, as a church, do we feel the need to set up elaborate rules, checks and balances, that will keep us from sinning? Why not just trust (and pray) that God will transform our hearts, instilling within us the desire to not steal, etc?

Like communism, I like the idea. I don't think the response to it should be to recklessly throw out all church rules as a means of testing our faith (like the demons tempting Jesus to jump off a building and let the angels catch him, just to show that He could), but I have started to wonder whether, in different areas of my life, I am relying on God or a system to keep myself out of trouble.

Is it possible that we are childproofing God in a way that makes our relationship with Him "safe" but lame and boring? Our interaction with God was never meant to be about rules but a relationship, yet we insist on creating "3(78) Easy Steps" to living the Christian life. In dating relationships, we create a list of rules for purity (no kissing until we're engaged) to make sure we don't struggle with lust. We throw out any music or movies that might put violent ideas in our heads or curse words in our mouths in hopes that if we block out any worldly influence, we will have no choice but to meditate on God all day.

Meanwhile, we are a generation of Christians who have died inside. We have become so preoccupied with trying not to sin, that we've forgotten the whole point: to know God and enjoy Him. Holiness should be a result of loving God so much that we want to do anything and everything to make Him happy. Instead, we focus on trying to make ourselves good--imposing a grand scheme of regulations so that we can foolproof life. All the while, if we had even the slightest glimpse of who God really is (if we knew Him), we would naturally want to do what pleases Him. It would be our joy.

With our children, letting them touch a hot stove, eat poisonous plants, or run into a busy street without looking both ways may not be the wisest parenting--but there are other ways that we can let them learn from their mistakes and deal with failure. In the same way, as Christians, we should search our hearts for ways that we could drop the rules a little and trust God a little more. When we become so paralyzed by the thought of doing something wrong that we stay stagnant, who has won? If we don't sin merely because we don't do anything, this isn't life.

Several weeks ago I wrote about a "borderline deranged decision" I made--I went out on a limb on something that I wasn't sure was really a "godly" thing to do. I prayed that no matter what, God would be glorified--whether the situation turned out like I hoped or not--and I trusted that even if I fell flat on my face, God would work through the circumstances to teach and grow me. And, turns out, I did fall flat on my face. And God did begin a growing process in me that though I'm still in the middle of, I can see clearly. It was a bump in the road I really didn't want, a "life lesson" that I could have safely avoided, but in doing so, I would have also missed the excitement of really trusting that God would work in my best interest. I would have missed out on the way I saw the body of Christ minister to me like a real family. I would have missed wisdom and growth and a hundred other things.

If living safely means I won't get to really experience God, then that, that is a waste of my time.

We are a nation, a church, of wimps, coddled to death, who follow ten thousand rules but know nothing of the God we claim to serve.

Matchmaker, Matchmaker

2008-04-29T00:45:00.001-07:00

In an effort to prolong my day enough to allow my hair to dry (because sleeping on wet hair causes all sorts of styling drama the next morning), I ran across a great Boundless Answers column (it's like Ask Dr. Laura, only cooler) titled "Wait Till You're Perfect?" In it, the reader asks, how do you know when you are "ready" enough to get married? Candice Watters offers, as usual, some sound Biblical advice...all along the lines of how I feel like I might respond to someone who asked me the same question.

But then her answer took a turn I wasn't expecting:

"If, as is the case in our culture, the younger women are having trouble finding and marrying godly husbands, then helping them do that should be the first order of business on the older women's to-do lists."

So you're saying we bring back the Matchmaker? Oh yeah...

"Instead of asking, 'Do you think I'm ready for marriage?' you might say, 'I believe, based on what I read in Scripture, that believers are called either to celibate service or marriage (Matthew 19:11-12). I know from my desires and drives that I'm not specially gifted for celibate service, so what I'm wondering is, based on your understanding of Scripture, what are the things I need to be working on to prepare for the responsibilities that come with marriage and motherhood?'"

Matchmaking, then, goes beyond just having an eye for which individuals might "click." More importantly, it involves a mentoring relationship in which those doing the matching are also caring for, encouraging, and reprimanding, when appropriate, the young woman in question. Single women should have trans-generational relationships with women who are edifying them. And should said women happen to know an eligible gentleman, perhaps they arrange an introduction..

So really, in LA, especially at a church like Shoreline, where the older women are like...still only my big brother's age, how would this actually look? The whole idea has brought up lots of questions for me. Personally, I've always liked the concept of the matchmaker and often tell people that if it were socially acceptable, I'd just let my parents pick someone for me. (Actually, the truth is, if I planned to move back to College Station, they already have a short list of potential suitors) But nowadays we end up having to do our own matchmaking, which either looks like us going for whatever sort of guys we actually meet, or taking upon ourselves the more elaborate screening process of navigating the online dating scene. We like having control. We also like believing that we would make the best choices on our behalf, whether we actually have the maturity to do so or not.

But really, what if I do open up the option of matchmaking for some people I know? I know plenty of people who would love to try their hand at setting people up. Usually they keep out of other people's "business" because a lot of people find being set up on blind dates both offensive and potentially awkward (at best) or terrifying. There's no way of knowing what kind of socially inept guy they're gonna throw at you (because we naturally assume that the kinds of guys willing to be set up on dates are equally as pathetic as we feel for not being able to find our own beaus). Conceptually, the idea feels flawed.

But I would propose a few rules that might allow for successful matchmaking in our 21st century dating scene:

1. Find someone you trust. It's imperative that the person who's doing the matchmaking be someone who has your best interests in mind--and by that I don't mean, they'll look for the hottest of hotties, but that they love the Lord and want to see you grow more in Him, not just score some arm candy.

2. Make sure they know you. The person who is setting up your matches should know enough about you to know what types of people you might enjoy spending time with. Stop being surface level with them. You'll waste your time.

3. Throw out your expectations. I don't care what kind of list you made in 9th grade of what you think you want in a man. If you've followed Rules 1 and 2, then give Mr. Datey McDaterson a try. It's possible that other people can see more about what kind of guy would suit you well than you yourself could.

4. Can your pride. Allowing someone to arrange a date for you does not make you lame. You live in LA. You have a job in which you interact with the four cubicles around you. Your friends know people that you don't. It's called networking. If it makes you feel better, throw dinner parties and casually have friends bring people you don't know. If dating ensues, then you know, whatever...

So that's all I've got so far. If you're like the girl from the article, if you want to be married and you consider your singleness a "problem," then do something about it. Bring on the matchmaker...catch yourself a catch. Find yourself a find. Fiddle with an old school ritual and see what kinds of riches await you.

Modesty (dun dun dun....)

2008-04-28T11:05:00.000-07:00

Chrissie started it.

So now I've got modesty (unwillingly) on my brain. I'm not gonna lie--I hate the "modesty talk"...because usually it means I'm doing something wrong. And I really hate doing things wrong...or rather, I hate being called out on it.

But, alas, here we are in the throes of picking summer wardrobes and I'm half-way tempted to throw out everything I own and start a new line of fashionable paper bags for the women of Shoreline. Anytime I start to read stuff like The Modesty Survey (which touts statistics like, 6.8% of men agree or strongly agree with the statement, "it is immodest for a girl to show her calves." AAAAHHHH!!!), I feel like I just can't win.

I have a theory: there are certain girls who have bombshell bodies--girls who can wear the most covering and modest of clothing and still look so sexy. In books and magazines they tell us that so much of dressing well is dressing to flatter your assets. When you have a naturally womanly silhouette, it would seem easier to wear pretty much anything modest and still look quite lovely and feminine. I feel like when I dress super-modest, I just look fat. When I take a good look in the mirror, I'll admit, I think some of my best features are my legs and my shoulders, and if, like they say, the goal is to "flaunt what you've got," I really need to wear those short shorts with the flowy tube top.

But in looking for hard and fast rules about modesty, I feel like the ones who are making them would also like to arrange my marriage and ensure that I stay home with the babies, cook three meals a day for my husband, clean and keep our home, and never speak in public. I really like rules. I really can't handle theirs.

Then I stumbled across this excerpt by C.J. Mahaney:

"There’s an inseparable link between your heart and your clothes. Your clothes say something about your attitude. If they don’t express a heart that is humble, that desires to please God, that longs to serve others, that’s modest, that exercises self-control, then change must begin in the heart.

"For modesty is humility expressed in dress."

Basically, he's saying that I have to take a good, hard look and what my goal is when I dress each day. If it's something along the lines of attracting, seducing, enticing, then, yeah, I'm way off. It's fine to be feminine. It's ok to long for loveliness, to dress in a way that is beautiful. But it is not godly to act in a way that I know is tempting to my brothers.

I've been working a lot lately on guarding my heart, now it's time to check it.

My New Favorite Song

2008-04-19T10:46:00.000-07:00

What makes me the saddest about moving at the end of this summer is that I will no longer come home to Lauren Garcia. Besides being the most delightful of people to share a bedroom with, she is also my mole when it comes to new music.

So per Lauren, the latest crooner spinning in my car is Marie Digby. Some may know her as the girl who remixed Riana's "Umbrella Song" into an acoustic ballad. I think she was mentioned on Perez recently... Anyways, this is one of the songs I'll be singing under my breath next time you see me, a theme song if you will, for this phase of my life. (See also "Stupid for You," "Spell," and "Paint Me In Your Sunshine.")

...Unfold...

What I can remember
Is a lot like water
Trickling down a page
Of the most beautiful colors
I can't quite put my finger down
On the moment that I became like this

You see, I'm the bravest girl
You'll ever come to meet
Yet, I shrink down to nothing
At the thought of someone really seeing me
I think my heart is wrapped around
And tangled up in winding weeds

But, I don't wanna go on living
Being so afraid of showing
Someone else my imperfections
And even though my feet are trembling
Every word I say comes stumbling
I will bare it all
Watch me unfold
Unfold, unfold

These hands that I hold behide my back
Are bound and broken from my own doing
And I can't feel anything anymore
I need a touch to remind me
I'm still real

'Cause, I don't wanna go on living
Being so afraid of showing
Someone else my imperfections
And even though my feet are trembling
Every word I say comes stumbling
I will bare it all
Watch me unfold
Unfold, unfold

My soul
It's dying to be free
I can't live the rest of my life so guarded
It's dying to be free
It's up to me to choose
What kind of life I lead

'Cause, I don't wanna go on living
Being so afraid of showing
Someone else my imperfections
And even though my feet are trembling
Every word I say comes stumbling
I will bare it all
Watch me unfold, unfold, unfold
Unfold, unfold, unfold

I will allow someone to love me...

Because I Hate Math...

2008-04-11T12:10:00.000-07:00

But we all know I love dating theory:

The Eligible Bachelor Paradox

When to settle? What to choose? When to lick your wounds with a good shopping spree? So many questions...Enjoy :)

You Don't Have to Turn on that Red Light...

2008-04-09T14:54:00.000-07:00

If you're wondering whether or not I can go see that new movie coming out or check out some cool LA dive bar, the answer is no. No, I can't go shopping with you. No, not even to the Goodwill. No more iTunes. No more take-out at work. No more Starbucks. No no no...I am on a money spending hiatus.

I wish I could say that this was a recent conviction of mine--that I am officially spurning all semblance of materialism in my life and therefore denying myself any superfluous pleasures. But this isn't the case. I got a traffic ticket. That's right. I violated the law, and now I MUST PAY!!

It's sooo lame because it's not like I was in a hurry or being particularly rebellious. I was lazy. It was Sunday afternoon, driving home from church...and I thought, "Oh look, that light is yellow. I could take my foot of the gas and press the brake. Or I could spare my thigh the work out..."

*Flashes from all angles like epic paparazzi*

I knew I was caught. I hoped my still out-of-state status would work in my favor, but a few days later, I received a phone call from Dad: "Busted!" (Seriously, this is a direct quote. My dad likes to use "cool" phrases like this, and therefore actually chuckled the term over the phone, with blatant disregard for my feelings.)

Eventually the ticket was forwarded to my apartment here and the actual damage assessed:

$380 for the violation
$10 to take care of it online
(because who has time to drive from downtown to the Santa Monica courthouse?)
$29 to take traffic school, and
$14.95 + tax to actually enroll in said traffic school

Ugh..

So really, I can't complain. It was my own dumb fault, and it's not like I can't find a way to pay for it. I have a great job and steady income. I'll still be able to eat and pay rent and all those things. I just have to wait on those brown flats that I "need" to buy for work. Really, it's a good reminder that there are a lot of things I buy with my money that are really not necessary. At the end of the day, I know I could live quite happily on much less that I have. I am more than blessed and should really learn to be more appreciative.

Oh, Culver City and your stupid "Red Light Project." How I hate you today.

Roxaaanne...

I'll Do it For Love

2008-04-02T23:44:00.000-07:00

I had the sudden realization tonight that after weeks of posting mostly links to other websites and blogs, I may have lost nearly all of my readership. Why would you read me if I am only going to link you to another article? Why not eliminate the middle man? AAAhhhh!! My childhood solace of being the "white stuff" (who thought of Weird Al?) between my Oreo-cookie siblings (no, we aren't multi-racial) is smashed to pieces (sings a bad Ashlee Simpson song. Wonders why Ashlee spells her names as such). The middle child is NOT the best child!!! Woe is me (along with my over-use of parenthesis and digressions)!! And I've met my exclamation mark quota.

I have visions of the three of you who are left, including my mom, suddenly slinking away into the far reaches of other blogdom...oh who am I kidding? My parents don't read my blog unless I remind them to. I'll get crap for that later. Or maybe...I've just guilted them into bookmarking it. (Yes!)

Point being, my apologies. I've always said that I didn't want my blog to turn into a drab account of my day to day clothing choices and office drama. If I'm going to write about something, it should be thoughtful--less of "this happened to me" and more of "this made me think about such and such and it all relates to God and the church and all of us in ways X, Y, and Z."

Some posts are better than others.

But when life gets too personal, too busy, or seems to lack epiphany, the wells of my textual brilliance run dry. As of late, I blame my absence on a house blend of all of the above. Tonight, I bring some refreshment to ease the drought.

Earlier this week, I made a borderline-deranged decision. Before I enacted said decision, I spent the morning praying over my next move. It went something like this, "Ok God, I'm not sure if this is going to be another one of those really dumb things I do, but I feel like I need to do it, so I ask that however it turns out, you would bless me. Whatever that looks like." It was a really cool moment--one of those times where you know that you've gone so far out on a limb that God better pull through or you are screwed.

And He totally did. Post-op, I felt an incredible sense of peace, knowing that this situation would grow me in one of several amazing ways. Although I've yet to see which it will be, I am getting to see what it's like to really trust God--to stand on the promises that He works all things for good for those that follow Him. That if I ask anything in His name, He will do it. It wasn't one of those Jesus-is-like-Santa-Claus prayers for a new bike, but an honest petition for spiritual growth and deepened relationship through (and maybe despite) my unique circumstances. And those are the kinds of prayers that God answers. They're the kind of prayers that should characterize our lives...because if we are asking for things that we know are in line with His will (and our becoming more like Him definitely is one of those things), then we can eagerly anticipate their fruition.

So now, a few days later, the actual testing sets in. Did I really mean it when I said that I wanted God to teach me patience? Would I really be able to pull off my promise to meditate on God rather than obsess over the aftermath? Was this one of those dangerous prayers, like asking for brokenness, where I would silently curse myself once it gets answered?

Who knows.

But I can tell you this for sure: it is so lovely to plow out of the spiritual rut I was in with a season that tries my faith and sends me helpless into the arms of my Savior.

Copy and Paste

2008-04-02T20:58:00.000-07:00

My roommate Alethea turned me on to this blog, Stuff Christians Like, which includes several shout outs to creepy things that define our awkward sub-culture. A few highlights...

"Yes, God wants us to be compassionate and kind and tender with each other. Not only that, but he wants us to love our enemies and serve our neighbors. As long as there is no body on body action. I'm talking of course about a "full frontal hug," one of those sinful abominations where you just wrap your arms around a friend and embrace them. That's why Christians the world over have pioneered the "side hug." In the side hug there's no risk of two crotches touching. Instead of face to face, you go side to side, putting your arm around the person and your hip against their's. Still having a hard time mastering it? Pretend you're taking a photo and you're both looking at the camera together. The side hug, or A frame as it is also called, is safe for the whole family, friendly and above all holy. I don't know the exact scripture reference but try the book of Psalms."

"But now, I realize that sometimes we put God in the liner notes of albums I don't think he had anything to do with. I know that in some sense, God is infused in everything in the world and as a Christian he should be woven in to every part of your day, but this kid's song was not that good. I mean, I've seen God's work. He made the Grand Canyon and the platypus, when he gets creative, he really gets creative. But sometimes, in a variation of throwing the God Card, we thank God for things I think he'd just as soon say, 'whoa, whoa, whoa, that chorus is weak and don't even get me started on that bridge. Leave my name off that song champ.'"

"My biggest fear as a Christian, now that I'm married and the rapture did not come before I lost my virginity, is that God will call me somewhere I don't want to go. Now that I have given him my life he will say in a James Earl Jones voice, "Jon, I want you to go to the deepest, darkest jungle in a country you didn't even know existed. And I want you to teach calculus and Bible stories to the people there. I have spoken." I'd have no problem with the Bible stories, but as a writer, math is my sworn enemy. When I have to count or do simple addition in my head, it's like entering mortal combat and I rarely win. But that is what I am afraid of. I fear that God likes to call his people to do things they don't want to do all in his name."

Three is enough. Visit the blog.

Roxy Says Goodnight

2008-03-25T20:06:00.000-07:00

For some reason as I was putting myself away for the evening, an old memory slipped in with the chill Boston breeze. I was thinking of saying my goodnights to the girls I'm chaperoning on our college tour, when the tiny little girl voice inside me quoted lines from one of my first plays, The Music Man. The Amaryllis in me asked my older, more mother-esque, sensible self, "But Miss Meredith, if I don't have a sweetheart, who am I supposed to say goodnight to on the evening star?"

"Well. I guess you can just say...goodnight my...my...someone. Goodnight my someone."

*Cue the music*

While I was looking around online to find out what exactly Amaryllis says to Miss Marian, the stuffy, single librarian-slash-piano teacher, I came across the song that comes just before "Goodnight my Someone," and it ends a little something like this...

Mrs. Paroo:
But, darlin'--when a woman has a husband
And you've got none,
Why should she take advice from you?
Even if you can quote Balzac and Shakespeare
And all them other highfalutin' Greeks.

Marian:
Momma, if you don't mind my sayin' so,
You have a bad habit of changin' ev'ry subject--

Mrs. Paroo:
Well, I haven't changed the subject!
I was talking about that stranger--

Marian:
What stranger?

Mrs. Paroo:
With the suitcase who may be your very last chance.

Marian:
Mama!
Do you think that I'd allow a common masher--
Now, really Mama!
I have my standards where men are concerned,
And I have no intention--

Mrs. Paroo:
I know all about your standards
And if you don't mind my sayin' so
There's not a man alive
Who could hope to measure up to that blend'a
Paul Bunyan, Saint Pat and Noah Webster
You've got concocted for yourself outta your Irish imagination,
Your Iowa stubbornness, and your liberry fulla' books!

It's interesting to look back at that play and see how politically incorrect (or socially out of date) it is--the women shun Marian because she is single. And Marian is clearly still single because she is a stubborn intellectual type. Her mother, Mrs. Paroo, tries to convince Marian that she ought to loosen up a little, get to know the new (attractive and suave) stranger in town. Hilarity ensues.

Funny how times have changed. Not only would a feminist interpretation have a HAY DAY with Mrs. Paroo's comments (not to mention the social implications of the storyline and its outcome), but most women would look at the small minded people of River City and say that Marian should definitely stay single, avoid getting duped by the faux-instrument salesman, and probably move out of her pathetic little town to a more accepting city. If anything, she's the only intelligent, admirable character in the sad lot, and it's unfortunate that Meredith Wilson chooses for her to look the silliest in the end--falling for the obviously manipulative wiles of the out-of-towner.

But mom makes a good point--maybe Marian does have some unrealistic expectations that she's harboring when it comes to finding a mate. So her situation is not ideal, but some of the blame still falls on her.

A couple of days ago I made a list of all the reasons I would be apprehensive to get into a relationship with someone right now. The list was fairly sized, but completely unsubstantial. A lot of it boils down to fears that "God's best" is somehow stale and rote--that the love I hear about a thousand times over in songs on the radio is ungodly, worldly, wrong. Something I shouldn't want, but something I know that I'm "missing out on" when I choose God.

In his sermon this week, Scott quoted C. S. Lewis:

"Indeed, if we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that Our Lord finds our desires, not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased."

Somewhere in all of this analysis and soul searching, I know that the root of the problem relates back to Lewis's message--In wanting marriage, I am not desiring something greater than God can provide; I just don't realize the gravity of what He would give me if I actually asked for it. This means a few things:

1) I am not too young. No matter what older, single women tell me, I refuse to believe that I am "rushing into things" when I say I want to be married. For me, at 22, I am for all practical purposes ready to be married. I've finished school. My finances are in order. I am seeking Christ and involved in my church. Now, obviously, if God has other life experiences he'd like me (or the man I eventually marry) to go through before marriage works out for me, then that's fine. I'll wait. But I'm tired of being fed the lies that I need to "find myself," "grow up," or "take some time to be selfish." That sort of me-focused mentality is sin. Plain and simple.

That being said,
2) I need to go ahead and ask God for it. Not only does the Lord ask us to present our requests to Him, He also promises that He hears our prayers and will answer them. When praying for something like marriage, that the Bible says is good, I know I can ask boldly because it's a blessing that most people are called to.

Which reminds me,
3) I probably should be well aware of what I'm asking for. Marriage is a big deal, I know. It's more than just having a boy that is bound by law to listen to me complain and rub my feet after a long day at the office (ok, with the kids...whatever...) Marriage is a tool used to refine us. What better way to have our flaws brought to the surface than to share them with someone else in such an intimate way? It can be easy to hide our dark and dirty stuff from friends, even roommates, but in marriage, when you let someone in so deep, they are bound to come up for air with a whole lot of litter. A commitment to love is kind of a big deal.

If you ask me on an off day, I might still say things like, "I don't believe in love." or "The idea of 'the one' is a crock." I might still mean it. Someone asked me the other day if it boiled down to my spurning the idea of commitment. I said, "I don't know" because I wasn't ready to pinpoint the problem on myself--that I'm scared I'll mess it up. Odds are, I will. But I'm tired of hiding behind those excuses. It's starting to change the way I pray about dating. I know that I need to pray that God would keep my heart soft towards marriage, despite the constant barrage of negative messages I receive on a daily basis. I'm asking God to keep me tuned to what He created for me relationally and wise in discerning how to handle myself in different situations with men. But before all that, I have to ask God for the courage to ask Him for these things in the first place, and the courage to let others see me in this "weak" (actually, vulnerable and real) place.

A couple of weeks back, I wrote in my journal,

"On my way to church this morning I thought about...how I don't really believe in the kind of love that I heard all about in the songs last night. I expect for some godly man to one day realize that it is his calling to be married, look around, decide I'm the best option, and pursue me. It won't be romantic. It will be like buying socks. Warm, fuzzy, presentable design. I'm sure I'll be a very functional wife and I'll learn to love...but I won't fall into it. It won't be naturally passionate but something I develop like a dispensable stage character."

Coupled with my recent list of relational fears, my outlook on love seems pretty lame. But despite my emo-tendencies, I keep C. S. Lewis's words as a mantra running through my head: "I am far too easily pleased."

And along with the crisp New England air, a melody floats along beside me...

Lord you have my heart
And I will search for yours.
Let me be to you a sacrifice.

And tonight, I say goodnight on the evening star. To Someone.

Quotable Trifecta!!

2008-03-24T16:21:00.001-07:00

Some new articles I found...

Far from being the answer to all your dreams and fantasies, marriage is a crucible for making you more like Christ.

***

Then, regarding "Pulling a Ruth:"

So while it may appear to some from my first articles that I pursued Steve and took the lead in our relationship, the reality is that I was responding to all the strong cues he was giving me. When it came time for my ultimatum ("call this what it is, or no more access to me"), what I was really doing was asking a version of the question that used to be asked by a woman's dad: "What are your intentions for my daughter?"

I was in essence asking him, "What are your intentions for me?"

***

And, a bit of a new take on The Friend Zone:

It has only been in the last few seconds of history that [opposite-sex friendships have] really been much of an issue. Historically, opposite-sex relationships have been reserved for guys and girls intent on marriage, or at the very least some kind of romantic (or sexual) pursuit. I can't think of a single Scriptural example of male-female pals. Male-female relationships in Scripture led to either (positively) marriage or (negatively) extra-marital sex, and of course the occasional battle.

And...

Please don't misunderstand me, emotional friendship is very different than masculine chivalry...Her need for chivalry is something God uses to help her realize her need for a spouse. Your "being there" for her too much might serve to keep her from realizing her need more quickly — kind of a twist on the old saying, "If the milk is free, why buy the cow?" If you're doing for her most everything she needs a spouse for, what incentive are you giving her to pursue a relationship? In other words, by your "being there" so much for her, you might be enabling her lack of interest in a serious relationship.

Home Remedies

2008-03-22T11:53:00.000-07:00

My mom sent me an email recently about the AMAZING EFFECTS OF PEROXIDE!!! (It was one of those forwards that reads like an infomercial, incorporating a generous use of caps lock and exclamation points)

Like the dad's Windex obsession in My Big Fat Greek Wedding, the writer claimed that your basic brown bottle of peroxide could be used in a multitude of ways--from healing foot fungus and gangrene, to cleaning your windows, to giving you soft, natural highlights (for this one they suggest a 50-50 water and peroxide mix, spritzed lightly on wet hair for several days, to avoid the over-orangey mistake our mothers made). If you're capable of overlooking the melodramatic personal testimonies, it was actually a worthwhile read.

So being slightly sickly this week, one particular tip came to mind that I figured was worth a try. The email suggested that for any sort of sinus stuff, you should spray peroxide in your nasal passages. It's supposed to bubble up and kill bacteria. Last night I eased into the experimental procedure by incorporating a little cotton swab action--not so bad. But this morning I figured I'd go balls to the walls and bust out my syringe. A careful droplet or two later, and all that my concerned roommate could get out of me through the bathroom door was, "oooaaaaahhhhh....it burrrrnnnnnsssss!!!"

It was the sort of pain where you actually have to yell to get through it. Like childbirth. The nasal equivalent of childbirth.

Turns out the exact admonition was the following (emphasis mine):

"Tilt your head back and spray into nostrils with your 50/50 mixture whenever you have a cold, or plugged sinuses. It will bubble and help to kill the bacteria. Hold for a few minutes then blow your nose into a tissue."

Well it more or less worked anyways. Time for round two...

*takes deep breath* Cue Rocky theme song.

It's Not Just Me...

2008-03-21T17:10:00.000-07:00

Everyone seems to be talking about relationships, masculinity, and femininity right now. Ok, granted...it may have to do with the blogs I read, but between Chrissie, The Boundless Webzine, and CBMW, I've gotten quite an earful. Then, I asked around for more--polling some guys at my church in Texas and starting up a conversation with the Mormon guy at my work. I even spent a good hour this morning talking to my roommate's cousin about what things look like up in Minnesota.

Call it Spring Fever...I think we just want to know that we aren't alone in dealing with the issues that inevitably come up when Christians try too hard to be perfect--especially when it comes to dating relationships.

My fear of commitment (yes, I realize this perpetuates the problem) prevents me from claiming this as a series of posts, but I plan to do a little reporting on the things I'm hearing around town.

First, a notable piece from Boundless about Being Proactive:

"For today's women, sometimes being proactive means pulling away from relationships that aren't going anywhere. If the guy you've been hanging out with hasn't "made a move" then it might be necessary to end whatever sort of pseudo relationship you're involved in. The guy is either 1) not interested or 2) too comfortable with the way things are to define things. Either way, you're going nowhere. Although it may be painful and a difficult transition, sometimes the most healthy thing to do is to let it go."

The writer also gives a nice shout-out to communication (who knew that would help us all out?) and encourages men to pull a Nike and "just do it" (ie: ask girls out). There's also a good follow up that reminds us all to chill out when it comes to the expectations.

But when talking about relationships, it seems that very few of us have "chilled out"--there's a lot of pessimism and old scars, compounded by individualistic world-views, that have turned this into a heated and heightened topic of debate. The simple answer, I suppose, is to "Let Go and Let God." ...which I think is one of those creepy Christian mantras that means we should not worry so much about things, focus on God, and remember that He has everything under control.

But, humanly, I still want to know what's up. Hence, I've started "researching" amongst some Christians I know outside of the LA bubble. Due to conflicts of interest, I've avoided breaching the topic with my guy friends at Shoreline (and because I don't want to get cast out, labeled as a freak, etc, etc.) I needed to expand my horizons anyways. Life's been a little stagnant lately and I figured I'd conversationally shake things up. I've been bored.

So I started emailing back and forth with this guy from home (the Texas version). He's admittedly NOT single by choice and one of those gems who still thinks marriage is a good idea. While he had a lot of great things to say about his outlook with women, the one part that particularly stuck out was his response to my questions about The Friend Zone:

"Bottom line the friendship is going to change. The two of you will marry someone in the future. If you marry someone else, your friendship is not going to be the same; if you marry each other, your friendship is really not going to be the same. So the excuse 'I don't want to mess up the friendship' is a load of crap because it will change from the way it was. This argument gets stronger the older you get."

I've discussed these lingering friendships with a few others. Chrissie posed the question, "If He is a Christian and She is a Christian, and He doesn't 'like her, like her' and she 'isn't interested in him in that way' what's the harm in hanging out? Is there actually a danger there? ...Would you want to punch me in the face if I told you that I thought that there was?"

I told her, yes, I would punch her in the face.

What I meant to say was that I'm selfish and if I'm not going to date someone right now, then I want several men in my life to fill that void in various ways...guys I can do things for, guys I can talk to about what's going on in my life, guys I enjoy hanging out with (but of course not guys for the physical stuff--give me a little credit--I'm trying to be a "good Christian girl" here). But then, the moment I start explaining all of this, I can't help but remember how I bashed a couple of my friends recently who said they were single for the same reason that I can't give up my guy friends: selfishness. I just want to focus on me right now.

Again, another hopelessly simple solution: we should just all stop being selfish. It's something we can all strive towards and is a tangible way of being proactive when it comes to preparing ourselves for marriage. That, and the prayer thing, which we so often tack onto the end of our solutions manual, even though we know that it really should be the first and foremost method of response. And, really, if God is as good as I always say He is, then there's no need for me to stress over the specifics.

At the end of it all, I like what Alethea's cousin Jess said to me this morning: "God is God...and Christians are just retarded."

Yikes! And I'm done reading for the evening....

2008-03-12T01:08:00.001-07:00

One more article shout out: "Not Your Buddy"

It's like friends with benefits, Christian style. While the writer blames both men and women for the communication problem, she argues that single people are doing a disservice to each other when they engage in emotionally intimate, opposite sex relationships. Of course reading about the potential dangers of having guy friends makes me question every friendship I have or have ever had. What can I say? I'm a girl. I tend to over-analyze.

For my sanity's sake, I'm going to stop thinking about it and go to bed. But first, a few convicting quotables (emphasis mine):

"Women...need to assume less. A woman should not assume that a guy friend she's spending time with is: a) just too shy to make a move; b) thinking she's the woman of his dreams but the timing isn't right; c) in denial of God's will that they be together.

"We get it. A woman loves to read into a guy's every action. That's her relational crime. But the guy does her a disservice by allowing her to be his "buddy girl" — a female friend who provides the relational benefits without the commitment...

"Single men and women are failing each other. Uncommitted intimate friendships may satiate immediate needs, but they lead to frustration and heartache. Not to mention, for singles ready for marriage, these "friendships" waste time and energy...

"Ecclesiastes croons, "There is a time for love." If, as a woman, you are indulging in an intimate friendship with a man who is not pursuing you, you are accepting a cheap imitation of love. And by spending all your time with a guy who will never put a ring on your finger, you may miss a potential suitor.

"If, as a man, you are spending large quantities of time with a woman, you may want to consider if perhaps the relationship is deserving of an upgrade to an intentional relationship that explores the possibility of matrimony. If not, do your sister the courtesy of making your stance clear, freeing her to be pursued by another man. "Above all, if you find yourself in an intimate friendship with someone of the opposite sex, ask the Lord for wisdom and discernment."

Almost as snarky and fabulous as the book my friend recently lent me: How to Ruin Your Dating Life by Matthew Paul Turner and Kerri Pomarolli. Definitely will incite a chuckle or two from anyone who has been around the Christian dating scene long enough to hear things like "When you're quiet, I can hear God." Or, "I think I just need to date Jesus for a while."

We are a creepy, weird bunch.

Wisdom, please?

Trippy...

2008-03-11T22:30:00.000-07:00

I really like it when I read or hear something from a mature, godly, and well-respected man, encouraging other men to be men. It's good for three reasons:

1) I have no clue how to encourage men, and even if I had some good things to say--why would they listen to me? I'm a woman..

2) I'm too busy trying to figure out what it means to be a godly woman (and actually put that into practice) to fret over what, Biblically, makes a man a man.

3) It gives a nice overview/summary of what kinds of things I should actually be looking for.

When life gets busy and the world's influence starts blurring my vision, it's nice to be set straight once again. I remember hearing this stuff in Jr. High, but it's good to bring it back up so I can sort through what I still believe to be Biblical. Maybe this warrants an example: I used to think that it was best to avoid holding hands for at least a month or so into a relationship because it would lead me down a spiraling, evil path to !!SEX!! *cue demonic underscoring sound effect* Clearly, I should delay physical contact as long as humanly possible. Now, as an adult, I figure those kinds of rules are a little extreme--though perhaps they were a good idea when I was dealing with hormonal 13 year old boys (glad those days are through). Unfortunately, sometimes I lump together everything that I learned about dating in Jr. High as outdated. Still, when I think back to all those things we talked about when I signed my "True Love Waits" pledge, I remember how carefully they tried to make sure we understood that these ideas came not from arbitrary life experiences or personal advice, but hard and fast Scriptural truth. And when I pull out my "official" list of Standards, they weren't actually half bad--albeit, a little lofty for a pre-teen--but I was right to want someone who pursued godliness, who liked kids and would be a good father, who had goals and aspirations and would be a good provider for me and our family. It can be easy to ashamedly groan over the over-Christianized, Bible belt stereotype that I was at that age. But I certainly hope my embarrassment doesn't cause me to throw out the baby with the bathwater. Mostly, it just means I end up having to "re-learn" all sorts of spiritual truths that were plain as punch to my southern self at 14. Eh, I guess I'm coming along. It's all a part of the process...when it Rome, you know? Life's a journey and there's no I in team...

Anyways, all this to say--I ran into an article that lays out 13 "Marks of Manhood" (don't let the big number scare you; it's worth the read). Given my recent fascination for creating a cost-benefit analysis of marriage, here's just one tidbit that stood out to me:

"True masculinity is not a matter of exhibiting supposedly masculine characteristics devoid of the context of responsibility. In the Bible, a man is called to fulfill his role as husband and father. Unless granted the gift of celibacy for gospel service, the Christian boy is to aim for marriage and fatherhood. This is assuredly a counter-cultural assertion, but the role of husband and father is central to manhood. Marriage is unparalleled in its effect on men, as it channels their energies and directs their responsibilities to the devoted covenant of marriage and the grace-filled civilization of the family. They must aspire to be the kind of man a Christian woman would gladly marry and children will trust, respect, and obey."

Oh and this one too...

"In these days, biblical manhood requires great courage. The prevailing ideologies and worldviews of this age are inherently hostile to Christian truth and are corrosive to Christian faithfulness. It takes great courage for a boy to commit himself to sexual purity and for a man to devote himself unreservedly to his wife. It takes great courage to say no to what this culture insists are the rightful pleasures and delights of the flesh. It takes courage to serve as a godly husband and father, to raise children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. It takes courage to maintain personal integrity in a world that devalues the truth, disparages God's word, and promises self-fulfillment and happiness only through the assertion of undiluted personal autonomy. A man's true confidence is rooted in the wells of courage, and courage is evidence of character."

Hmm...must continue my research...

Controversial Statement of the Day

2008-03-07T12:35:00.000-08:00

"Those men who are interested in today's extremist, independent woman (read: buys her own flat screen and diamonds, career-focused type) may be secretly hoping to opt out of their role as provider by finding someone that can bring home the bacon on their behalf, or at the very least, will go half-sies. Ironically enough, most still hope and expect that the woman will care for the household needs as well as provide for them physically and emotionally, as a 'traditional' housewife might."

Discuss.

No matter how your heart is grieving, if you keep on believing...

2008-03-05T13:39:00.000-08:00

Last night I dreamed I was back home visiting all of my old friends. Everyone was the same except each one was the other-half of a significant. They asked me about my life and smiled politely.

Then I was back in the old gym where we used to meet on Wednesday nights for Youth Group. Two of my friends from here, Brian and Jonathan, made cameo appearances as youth leaders, in charge of speaking and running the games, respectively.

Amid the uproar, someone handed me a baby. Then another got up to speak about missions. My heart ached. I couldn't remember a word of my German, which didn't matter anyways. I wouldn't be able to go. I already set the course for my life. I was committed elsewhere. End of story.

The baby cried. He needed changing. He wasn't wearing a diaper.

Softly, the alarm. Time to hit the gym. Interviewing a potential teacher this morning. AP Review classes to plan. A birthday gift from my sister finally arrives: a princess calendar. I think maybe I'll frame some of the pictures. Perhaps one of Cinderella. She's stuck in my head.

Cheese

2008-03-03T22:48:00.000-08:00

I once went on a cheese hiatus.

It was a ploy to cut calories--if I just stop putting cheese on all those things that I thought needed it, the number of calories that I could cut would be immeasurable (especially since I was then eating about a cow's worth of the stuff). I taught myself to season and prepare meals in different, just as tasty, ways. Rather than smother broccoli in Velveeta, I'd cook it in balsamic vinegar. And I revamped my spaghetti sauce to include lots of vegetables instead of relying on grated Parmesan for that extra kick. I invented an aversion to cheese--if I could convince myself that I don't like it, then I wouldn't crave it and would not, therefore, eat it so often.

Somewhere along the way, I created an aversion to cheesy behavior as well. Amid Princess fantasies and homemaker hopes, I decided to wise up, take a deep breath of this fresh LA air, and denounce all things romantic, cute, charming, comforting, suave, sensitive, etc. On any given, generic day, anything "awww"-worthy makes me want to yak. I don't like animals or super-sappy songs. I haven't touched my go-to romantic comedies in ages. I deal with relational mushiness in much the same way as I deal with the edible variety--obliterate it in the garbage disposal and wash it down the sink. A self-imposed aversion therapy of sorts.

But, like Justine always says, "everything in moderation"--be it diets, relationship doctrine, life choices, or whatever. And every now and then, a little cheese is nice.

From a long-ago love: "And what's the temperature in Cali right now? That's the only way to know how comfortable you are...."

Or on those classy, kind of expensive but worth the splurge crackers, accompanied by a glass of nostalgically German wine.

Fortunate Fool

2008-02-23T23:47:00.000-08:00

Despite the unfortunate consequences that all of this Chow Mein has had on my weight loss goals, Confucius seems to be saying that things are looking up for me. Always a fan of the fortune cookie, I've been pleasantly surprised by the latest mantras on those little slips of paper. A few days ago it was...

"You will find good fortune in love."

Always a bonus, I figure. Shortly thereafter, it was supplemented with..

"A thrilling time is in your immediate future."

Which came right along the time that things got exciting with my job at work. But despite how pleased I am with these two, nothing could quite throw me for a loop like the fortune that came in my cookie at P. F. Chang's tonight:

"Wearing green will bring you the luck of the Leprechauns."

What???

But Then I Get My Second Wind

2008-02-21T23:07:00.001-08:00

I love how just when I start to think my life is going to tank, God pulls through.

I love how I knew all along that He would.

I love how I know that so many people were lovingly lifting me up in their prayers.

I love how God reminds me that He was listening to my own.

I love that God brought me down a path I didn't want, only to prove through and through that His plan was better than the one I'd concocted on my own.

I love that God has put me in a job I don't deserve and I probably can't handle, just so I'll have to trust Him to pull through again.

I love how this blessing will open up opportunities for me to bless others.

I love how I know that when times get hard again, I can look back to this moment and say, I've tasted and seen how God is good.

I love how God has been merciful to me.

I love how God has given me abundantly more than anything I could dream, imagine, or ever hope to deserve.

I love that God is my Hope, my Friend, my Helper, my Counselor, my Savior, my Love.

I love God.

Praise God from whom all blessings flow...

Where Did We Go Wrong?

2008-02-19T22:10:00.001-08:00

I've now officially had two conversations with (respectable, godly) men I know, who confessed to me that the reason they are uninterested in dating right now is because they don't think that a girlfriend is worth all the effort. Admittedly selfish, both explained their own version of the same predicament: investing in a woman takes time and energy and, frankly, the costs on this one outweigh the benefits.

On a seemingly unrelated note, work is really stressful right now. I've avoided writing lately because there were some big changes about to happen that I wasn't really authorized to discuss. Though I still don't really know what is going to happen as they shift positions around, it's finally safe to tell people: my boss left on Friday. This opens up all sorts of questions, not about job security, but about potential promotion and also major revamping of the entire center. None of that really matters here--the point is, we're really busy. Stress is at all time highs. At the end of the day today, the owner asked me how I was doing, on a scale of 1-10. On a normal day, I function at a 9-10, I said--able to handle all my duties, fairly stress free. I told him that today was about a 7.

Bawling so hard on the way home that I could barely see the road in front of me...perhaps would indicate otherwise.

It's times like these that I start to feel kind of lonely. It would be really nice if, at the end of a day full of drama like today, I had someone to come home to. Even if all we did was sit down to watch TV or I made him dinner or whatever, it would be nice to have someone to lay down next to--a physical reminder that my life is much bigger than a job or career. I know that when it comes down to it, man or not, that statement is true: God desires more for my life than success at work. And He has certainly provided so much more, through friends, family and church, but I guess I always figured it would also include starting my own family. If you had asked me in high school, I would have said that by 22, I'd be on the cusp of marriage, kids at 25, and some sort of piddly job in the meantime to keep me occupied. I never expected a serious job, let alone a career, yet God has blessed me in this route, rather than through family (at least up until this point). I feel horribly guilty to even vent or complain right now since God has been gracious enough to not only provide for me on this alternate path, but to bless me in it, tremendously. But like the spoiled brat I tend to be, I feel that sinking dissatisfaction and the underlying, creeping question, "Is this all there is?"

Cue in my aforementioned conversation. While I understand the plight facing many men these days, it's hard not to take it personally when I hear them say that women are just not worth the fight. While I know the slight isn't specifically aimed at me, it's difficult to hear anything but, "Meredith, you could never be of enough value to outweigh the pain and trouble I would go through just trying to manage and deal with you." It's heartbreaking to think that we, as women, have created such a reputation for ourselves that men don't even want to bother with us. It's even worse to think that maybe this problem is so big that I won't ever be able to fight or fix it. Do we blame feminism? How do we get down to the root of it all?

Having been groomed for marriage, I find myself struggling in a world that no longer caters to that lifestyle. I hope my frustration is not a simple matter of discontent with my relationship status--I think it's bigger than that. It would be one thing to face the men I know (and *blushes* those I have a crush on) if the problem was that "he's just not that into me," but it's an entirely different problem if men, as an entire species, have just given up on their God-given counterparts. I have girl friends on both sides of the fence: some think that if a guy actually, really liked someone, he would think she's worth the effort and make a move, and I know others that ball-bust men for their sinful selfishness. I don't know what to believe anymore. I want to shout from the rooftops--"We aren't all that bad!!" I'd at least hope to convince people that I'm not one of them. But to no avail.

I sadly wonder if we won't all remain miserable in mediocre lives that never taste and see the goodness of intimacy that the Lord designed. Years of Sunday School grow fuzzy as I try to think up where in the Bible God talks about marriage as a good thing...

"The Lord God said, 'It is not good for man to be alone..." Gen 2:18

Marriage and Family Promotion

2008-02-07T14:27:00.000-08:00

When I first got to Shoreline, I coined myself the Official Baby Promotion Specialist...mostly because I was always telling the married couples that they should start having babies...or trying to encourage anyone out of college to settle down already so we could have some kids in the church. I was so young, so naive.

Turns out, maybe we need more marriage and family promotion. A friend sent me this article, one of those ask-the-specialist columns, that discusses another article about SYM's (Single Young Men) and what a grand problem they are creating for society.

The first article, titled "Child-Man in the Promised Land," attempts to explain the Peter Pan Syndrome...that men nowadays "just won't grow up." The writer, Kay Hymowitz, has plenty of pop culture support and thoughtful proof that there is seriously a problem. It's worth a read if you have the time, but the crux of the argument seems to be the following:

"It is marriage and children that turn boys into men. Now that the SYM can put off family into the hazily distant future, he can—and will—try to stay a child-man."

And more insultingly, "Men are 'more unfinished as people,'...Young men especially need a culture that can help them define worthy aspirations. Adults don’t emerge. They’re made."

Expert "Dr. Helen," adds some of her own analysis:

"I guess everyone has their blind spot when it comes to why men don’t toe the line and provide society with what it needs or wants despite little reward and plenty of headache for being a modern day husband and father...Nowadays, for many men, the negatives of marriage for men often outweigh the positives. Therefore, they engage in it less often. Not because they are bad, not because they are perpetual adolescents, but because they have weighed the pros and cons of marriage in a rational manner and found the institution to be lacking for them. It’s a sensible choice for some and the video games, magazines, and humor websites that Hymowitz disses are a way to fill one’s time with fun activities that don’t tell you that you suck, are an “unfinished person,” emotionally detached or on your way to jail for fake domestic violence charges. People used to treat men better than this."

I don't know that I have much more to add that these two haven't covered. I wanted to link to the articles because I think they say it better than I could.

Regardless, the whole dramatic affair just reminds me that there are a lot of problems in this world. I don't want to be the nagging, bitter, feminist type (while I am undoubtedly grateful to feminism for giving me the opportunities I have today), so I'd be curious to hear more male voice on the subject. I understand why marriage would be worth it for me, and I hope that I can make marriage worth it for a man someday. Perhaps we need more married men to speak out about why it's a good thing to be "tied down." And as a woman, are there ways that I am spinning or imagining marriage that will one day put too much pressure on the guy I'm with? I know that girls are all relational and whatnot, but don't guys benefit from the intimacy of marriage as well?

When I first moved out here, I thought I had a pretty good grasp on all things relational. I probably did. But I was a couple of decades off in my calculations.

Education

2008-02-01T12:28:00.000-08:00

I always say that when I feel particularly nostalgic for Texas, I start drinking beer and listening to country music. Though I've yet to replenish my stash of Shiner, I have been listening to country radio, even when the songs are especially hickish. And, I'm almost embarrassed to say, the one song that I've (more than once) turned up to jam along with is the Billy Ray/Miley Cyrus song, "Ready, Set, Don't Go." A self-proclaimed opponent to the Hannah Montana teeny bopper, I still find myself a sucker for any father-daughter stuff, no matter how cheesy or poorly written it is. After all, I am quite the daddy's girl at heart, so songs like this (see also Chuck Wicks' "Stealing Cinderella," Sugarland's "Everyday America," and Heartland's "I Loved Her First") always get to me.

I'm learning to appreciate where I come from.

And when I think about origins, my mind naturally wanders to God. This week at Shoreline we started a new series about Adoration. As life settles in a little for me, I find myself more regularly hanging out with God, reading His Word and praying. Amid what had seemed like inapplicable tales from Israeli history, I stumbled onto Isaiah 40.

I'm learning to adore my Creator.

It makes me think about how I was created. I was amused the other day with the thought that perhaps what makes me such a good worker is the very same thing that will make me a good wife someday--I submit well to the authority of others. I'd prefer to be in the subordinate position. At work, this is perfect, since I often have no clue what I'm doing. I have little to no training with educating high schoolers, but I'm smart and energetic, and I'll do what I'm told. I'm sure that when I get married, I'll be difficult to deal with in other ways, but when it comes to big family decisions, I'd just as soon follow directions than have to bear the weight of choosing which path to take. Ironically, this doesn't filter as easily into my relationship with God. After how amazingly faithful He has been to me, I cannot for the life of me understand why I don't readily and easily submit to Him. I wonder if submitting to God is one of those things that I'm going to understand more deeply once I get married. Like how they say you understand God's perspective as a father once you are a parent yourself.

I'm learning to find balance within my own heart.

Perhaps the most unbalanced part of me lately is where I fall on the Man-hater -- Goddess-mother spectrum. Recently, I have been praying (almost reluctantly) that God would soften me. I've noticed that I had let my circumstances really harden my heart toward all things family and relationship related. I was getting snarky and selfish. But at least I blended in. It wasn't until I had a conversation with a good friend of mine that I started to see how unattractive that was. In telling me about some of his own reasons for being single right now (that he's just being selfish and doesn't want to have to put someone else's feelings above his own), he got me thinking about my views on the subject. I realized that I wanted a relationship for the very same reason that he didn't--I'm selfish. I started to like being alone because without a man in my life, everything can be about me. But rather than avoid relationships because of my own shortcomings, I would love to have another person to butt heads against, someone who will both reveal my issues and help me walk through them. Iron sharpening iron, if you will. I want to know what it's like to selflessly love and care for another person. I think maybe that's what I always wanted--not so much the cheesy stuff, the roses or romance, but the hard things, being real and gracious and humble. Love, as a challenge. And so much more deep and beautiful because of it.

I'm learning that God answers my prayers.

It's kind of scary--letting my guard down again. It's scary in the same way that it was scary that summer morning when I was 17 and I realized that God might want me to leave College Station to go to school in California. That morning when I cried because maybe He was going to change my plans and I didn't know if I could really do it. I can look at that and smile now because even though this isn't where I planned to be, I'm glad it's where God brought me. I didn't get my ring by spring or that picket fence life that used to look so charming. But I'm glad to be in a place where church going isn't the norm for any upstanding member of society. I'm glad I have a family here who reminds me that it's about loving Jesus, not doing a thousand different things to polish up my holy sheen. Granted, I sometimes feel like I'm not as "good of a Christian" as I used to be. My life doesn't cut out neatly or stay inside the lines. But at the end of the day, I feel God more than I ever did and I'm getting to know Him in ways that I never expected.

Sometimes I don't even know which way is up. But I'm learning.

Some Day My Prince Will Come...

2008-01-15T13:16:00.000-08:00

No, this is not a hopefully romantic post about some melodramatic, unrealistic future I've conceived for myself...but rather, an exciting announcement that the new website is finally up and running!!

The Princess Party

Alethea insists that the repetitive photographic presence of Kirstin (the owner) and me on the website is sure to guarantee "lots of action" for us. I think she meant in a business sense, but you never can tell with that girl. Regardless, I do, for some bizarre reason, make quite the showing. Perhaps it had to do with Sunday's fiasco of trying on all the costumes so as to have pictures to show of all the dresses/characters we offer. For some reason, the people in our building now think that Kirstin and I have some sort of psycho-emotional disorder, but Justine's presence with the camera clearly proved it an elaborate photo shoot. Unfortunately, of the good fifty or so people who saw us, it did not include whats-his-face from The Hills, in front of who's balcony we *happened* to take all the pictures. You know. In case he happened to wander out there and gaze upon our fabulous presence and fall madly in love with us. And we definitely had some great shots. I think the best one, which sadly is not shown on the site, is of Kirstin, the mermaid, combing her hair with a dinglehopper. I am also now quite enamored with the Strawberry Shortcake dress and may or may not have been caught doing a little prancing around my building in it.

Bonus: it's like Where's Waldo--count how many times my picture appears on the site...

Winner's prize is negotiable ;)

Quote from my boss...

2008-01-10T13:44:00.000-08:00

"Her specialty is controlling naughty girls..."

Referring to...that's right...ME.

In the rain, the pavement shines like silver...

2008-01-04T20:59:00.000-08:00

As I drove home today, I thought the weight of the rain would bring my car to a standstill. Today it rained, hard. Not really hard enough to stop traffic, not even hard enough to slow a determined bicyclist. It was just heavy. Life felt heavy. And as I dusted off a day's work, I watched the sky purge itself all around me. I needed to purge too.

Tonight it's 57 degrees outside, which for some of you isn't cold. But it's definitely enough to bite just a little when the rain falls down on your face. I'd just finished running at the gym. Hot and sweaty, something lured me downstairs again and out the door into the night. Having just hopped off the treadmill, my body was numb to the chill, embraced its coolness even, but I was determined to walk out in it long enough to let it numb me the other way around. My tank top left arms bare and free to feel it all. I've been oddly closed off, but let the night and my recent turn of events take me in a new direction. I was listening to the rest of a sermon about emotion and fear, dealing with some of my own demons. The piercing cold felt nice. It felt nice to feel...to think...and to really pray. I realized that I let Christmas waltz right past me this year. I let the entire thing happen to me without hardly acknowledging the One I was supposed to be celebrating. I completely missed it because I was so selfishly distracted by my own petty ideas of desire, chasing carefully justified dreams. I was simultaneously horrified and amazed--at both my behavior and God's loving pursuit despite it. The pastor closed in prayer. I switched to my music and a song by Shane and Shane narrated my story.

He will allure her.
He will pursue her,
Call her out to wilderness with flowers in his hand.
She is responding,
Beat up and hurting,
Deserving death.
Offerings of life are found instead.
She will sing, she will sing, oh to You
She will sing as in the days of youth.
As You lead her away to valleys low,
To acres of hope.
Acres of Hope.

I cried. Tears down smiling cheeks, I glimpsed a small fraction of what that crazy lady at my uncle's church must have felt when she couldn't stop herself from shouting out during the service. I could hear her: "to the world, we look so foolish..." I felt silly singing to the sky, arms open wide, but it felt good. They were singing about me.

Here in the valley,
Walk close beside me,
Don't look back
For love is growing vineyards up ahead...
Though you're in the dark here,
Call me friend and call me lover.
Marry me for good.
She will sing, she will sing...
Acres of Hope

Many people have heard me both joke about and discuss seriously how I don't believe in love. Turns out that has been a bit of a dramatization too. In the rain, I think I shined brighter than any of the misty lights shimmering in the rivers of runoff water. I couldn't help but want to dance--literally dance like a crazy person--like people do when they are in love.

The Love of God. That's a love I believe in. I have felt it, and it is so sweet. And if one day God graces me with the blessing to love a man even half that much, what a beautiful, beautiful thing it will be.

Then, from the heights of that high, that's when the most amazing thing happened: I almost died. I was crossing the intersection on my way back home and a car utterly barreled through the red light...so close in front of me that it was only the wind created by it's speed that halted my steps--one more that would have laid me out flat on the pavement, in the silver and the lights. It took a moment for the reality of the situation to sink through the numbness, the joy and the cold that had left me oblivious to the world outside. Moments ago, I was singing Amazing Grace and now by the grace of God I was still standing and able to sing.

How the story ends is
Love and Tenderness
in Him.

Not safe, but worth it,
So worth it..

Look me in the eye and tell me you don't find me attractive...

2008-01-04T09:02:00.000-08:00

Over the dull roar of my engine and the background noise of a burned cd, he leaned over to ask me if today was the last day of my winter break 9-6 schedule. I said yes. And somewhere in the back of my mind, my theatrical side narrated the unspoken thickness in the air, that loaded dialog subtext, my "yes," which really meant, "Yes...after today, my life will fall neatly back into normal."

They tried to make me go to rehab...

2008-01-03T12:21:00.000-08:00

Because I'm a big girl now and will soon be moving away from the comforting coves of the cushy USC area, I've been on Craig's list doing a little searching to find out what kinds of places might be available.

I knew this post was a dead end when I read the title line:

"Completely rehabbed! Just like new! LOOK!"

While the apartment looks decent in the pictures, is going for a fairly good price, and isn't in the worst of locations (like 45 minutes East on the 10)...I'm not sure how I feel about any place that needs to be rehabilitated after its previous tenants. Because there's nothing like finding heroin needles clogging the shower drain...

Sunrise, Sunset

2008-01-02T14:31:00.000-08:00

The funny thing about the real world is that it stops for no man. True, I got a glorious two days off this week in order to celebrate the New Year, but today it's back to the daily grind. Unfortunately for me (and any student that might seek help today), I've spent the last hours in a cold-meds-induced haze, double fisting fluids and trying to keep my head from dropping to my desk in exhaustion. A perfect way to start 2008.

Yesterday I was supposed to resolve something. I didn't. It wasn't because I forgot to do it...my day just didn't slow down enough for me to really ponder what kind of change I'd like to make. But now, with the afternoon lull in full force here at the Center, and after popping round four of Sudafed, I try to think a little before the fog sets in.

A lot of people find resolutions pointless. Mostly because they never keep them. But even though I didn't quite lose that 10 pounds I meant to shed last year, I still like the idea of starting off a new year with new goals in mind.

Goal #1: Finish off those stubborn pounds from 2007.

With the holidays finally over, I can get back to a regular work out schedule and eat like a normal human. Easy enough...but losing weight never seems like a legitimate goal. It's cliche. It's not really a one-time goal, even, achievable in a normal sense. Until I die, the basic principles of eating healthily and getting plenty of exercise will rule my body image existence. But more than anything, I don't like the idea of a weight-loss resolution because it's too simplistic. Not that I necessarily expect to achieve it, but conceptually, it's not hard to drop pounds. You just have to want it bad enough and discipline yourself to do it. And I don't. Still, if I were to wish for the drive to really accomplish one thing this year, losing weight probably wouldn't be it. Granted, it would be nice to look camera-ready at all times, but I guess there are a few other important things that would beat it to the top of the list.

I wonder if part of the reason people like New Year's resolutions is because it gives them something to strive for. Though mine's definitely not a dead-end, Office Space-type job, it's much more of an end than all the means that have led up to it. In a lot of ways, I feel like I'm sitting pretty here. I've accomplished many of the goals that lead up to my place in the real world--getting into college, graduating from college, and so forth. At this point, my ends more than meet--they overlap actually (perhaps only since I am still in the grace period before I start to pay back school loans)--and I don't really have plans to climb the ladder. When I was younger, I used to do a New Year's evaluation, taking stock of my life in several categories--intellectual, spiritual, relational, etc, etc. It turns into a fairly epic journal entry in which I describe things I did well through the year and areas in which I'd like to improve. The unspoken resolutions I make, then, are directly translated from the I Wish I'ds of the year before. As usual, there are plenty of areas of my life that could use some dusting, and rather than wait for the Groundhog to announce the time for spring cleaning, I figure now's as good as ever to start airing things out.

My eyes get heavy. I'd like to blame it on the medicine, but I'm fairly sure that the daunting task of listing my faults is what really inspires my fatigue. The burning paper-cut on my right ring finger is distracting. My tea is now lukewarm. A student wants help on her essay.

Another day, another year...

On Monday I watched the last sun of 2007 set over the ocean. Being on the West coast, where the day ends and the sun dies, I feel my age all the more. 2008 starts to settle in my bones as I wonder if the year ahead could possibly bring as much change as the one preceding it. Out of respect for the older and wiser, I'm through lamenting how ancient I feel. In truth, I've actually felt pretty young lately. But, regardless, I am constantly amazed when I think back over the years gone by. On the cusp of yet another, I am easily nostalgic and perhaps equally hopeful as I look to what '08 has in store--the course my life will take and the ways it will change me forever.

"She looked as though she took very seriously the direction on the back of various creams and powders to 'apply liberally..'"

2007-12-28T14:57:00.000-08:00

While waiting to get my car back from the shop this morning (she's been out of commission since before Thanksgiving due to an unfortunate, not-my-fault, parking-garage accident), I picked up a smudged and wrinkled, clearly archaic issue of Cosmo. While perusing the usual fashion and relationship advice, I found a page-ish article about this "radical" guy who decided to follow the dating advice of a "very old source"--The Bible. Turns out, God had some pretty legit thoughts about how men and women ought to deal with each other. (Props to anyone who is able to find the article online...after wading through a whole lot of awkward essays--given I am at work right now--about sex positions, physical oddities, and other bedroom Q&A, I still couldn't come up with a link.) The writer basically pulls out a bunch of scriptural references and explains how they are relevant today. Huh...

Last night I listened to Shoreline's sermon archives in reverse. It was funny hearing Brian reference what he said "last week," only to listen to that message immediately following. I also cleaned out my closet and thrice clogged our new vacuum in an effort to detox the apartment. Admittedly, I was only half listening to the sermons, but since I had already heard most of them before, I'd like to think that the bits and pieces that stood out were the important points of each.

Behind me, one of my students asks our director, "If you don't shave...you're pretty hairy, right? For an Asian anyway..."

And it turns out that I've been wrong all these years when I use the term "per say" in my writing. It should actually read "per se." I was inadvertently corrected by a student, whilst she explained this common misconception to another. Wikipedia confirmed. I save face by not chiming in on their conversation.

Meanwhile, the college application race turns dirty. Student M can't remember the name of the professor with whom she studied 3 summers ago. Miss Per Se was in the same program, remembers, but won't cough up the info. Drama!!

*Sigh* Another day in the life of Meredith Teacher.

I'm counting down the last hour and a half of the workday. Like watching the sun set, everything moves too slow. I think about how much more of the Bible than those few snippets mentioned in Cosmo actually applies to my life, and I wish I made more time to actually read and internalize all of it.

To Find Out Where I Belong

2007-12-23T17:47:00.000-08:00

Tonight you can see Mars. It's the closest to Earth right now than it will be for a really long time. Here in Tennessee, I think it already went behind the moon. But maybe where you're at, you'll be able to see the little red star before she hides for the night.

This morning we went to my aunt and uncle's church. It's a Missionary Baptist church which I think means that on top of not dancing and throwing really great pot-luck suppers, they also push the gospel pretty heavily (rather than discipleship or any other number of theological ideas). They also get really emotional and the preacher yells at you so that the message gets into your bones or your bloodstream or something. When I looked around I realized I was probably the only person my age who was still single. People in towns like this (or at least at small town churches) are kinda funny like that. Everybody wants to be with somebody so people pair off once they hit puberty because well...maybe they figure there won't be anyone else. So you look around at the five girls who've been in your Sunday School class over the years...pick the hottest one and try to win her. In some ways, I long for the simplicity of that lifestyle. For a minute my mind wanders as I think of marrying my high school sweetheart...as if I went to a school where everyone knows your Mama and any guy who can run makes the football team because they need to fill all the positions. And mine is the quarterback and I'm the head cheerleader because I had nothing better to do.

A lady three rows behind me snaps me to. She wants to request a song from the choir director and she starts to explain why. I'd never seen it before in real life...but I think she literally got "moved by the Spirit"--started whoopin and hollerin (these really are the only terms you can use to describe it) and spouting little bits of scripture about what Jesus has done for her. At first I got uncomfortable. Then I cried. I hope I turn into that kind of little old lady...just all sorts of in love with my Savior and sharing my joyful heart with all who want to hear.

I got home and took a nap because it made today feel like a real Sunday. Then I wrapped Christmas presents in Disney Princess wrapping paper that I found at Walmart. If we were in Lafayette with my grandparents instead of in Gallatin with my cousins, we would have run into someone my mom knows. Everybody who's anybody goes to the Walmart there. I think it's because the super-center put all the other stores out of business.

Tonight you can see Mars. Even in my cousin's telescope, it's still just a little dot. I wonder if my friends in California can see it. I wonder if any of them would go outside and look. I'm glad I'll go to bed alone tonight instead of with a washed up football captain. And as good as it is to be among family, I'm glad I have another one to head back to.

Why All Men Need a Good Men's Magazine

2007-12-19T18:30:00.000-08:00

In a fit of procrastination (and because my mom sent me a frantic text message asking me for gift ideas for my two male cousins), I was on AskMen.com today looking at holiday gift ideas when I stumbled across this article: Top 10 Holiday Survival Tips for Singles.

Easily lured in by the possibility that girls are not the only ones who get sappy and depressed about being alone at Christmas, I bit. Arguably, the advice was pretty good whether you are a guy or girl--things like snagging some extra shifts at work to take advantage of the overtime cash or making a holiday resolution that you can reach before New Years. But what really struck me was number 8...

Be a dietary radical

Reject it all. Actively rebel. Yes, this is a direct suggestion: Go on a diet. This doesn’t mean you should picket eggnog. Rather, it means rejecting much of the crap that pops up in pounds around the holiday season. If this is too drastic for you, at the very least, consider eating in moderation. This is an important holiday survival tip for the single guy; nothing will contribute to feeling lonely or depressed like gaining weight and losing self-esteem.

Thank goodness for websites and magazines that are working to level out the standards of beauty for men and women. If I'm going to starve and sweat myself into the perfect girlfriend, so must the lucky schmuck who will finally land me.

Things Done, Things Said

2007-12-06T15:44:00.000-08:00

Regarding her college application essays, Bonnie says, "You know what it is, Meredith? I think you're my muse..."

I'm looking forward to our apartment's Christmas party this weekend. I still have to figure out how to make gingerbread cookies and buy the necessary supplies. Kirstin says, "It's like our Christmas gift to all our friends. We invite them into our home and feed them nice desserts and drinks..."

One of my coworkers lent me a copy of Animal Farm because my students all read it earlier this year, and now in retrospect I think it would be good to know what it's about. I read half of it at the gym the other night and wasn't super impressed. Charles says, "It's a little thick to be reading while you're on the elliptical..."

My mom's 4th grade Christmas (er, "Holiday") Concert was on Monday. The school's new principal made an announcement about how incredible she is for pulling together such an impressive production and bragged on her skills as a music teacher. Mom says, "I've been complimented before, but never in front of that many people..."

My hair is darker than it ought to be and I need to buy just a few more Christmas presents before I'm done for the year. My sister gets in town next Saturday and I need a winter coat. I haven't listened to enough 'NSync Christmas this year, I think because I don't see Justine enough. Or maybe because I got the new Carrie Underwood CD that I played for a week straight. I'm at work and it's ugly outside and not cold enough for the sweater I wore today but I wore it anyway because I think it's pretty. There will be an ugly sweater contest at our church Christmas party, but I have a new dress to wear instead, even though it's strapless and I'll probably be cold. Then again, I live in LA and there isn't any snow. It doesn't feel like Christmas yet, probably since I am not taking finals or going on vacation or headed home. But maybe that's a good thing because I'm usually quite the Scrooge around this time of year. But lately, I feel loving. Every day when I get home I eat another piece of chocolate from my advent calendar and announce for all to hear...I say, "Jesus is coming..."

I would help, but...

2007-12-05T13:39:00.000-08:00

There is nothing more entertaining than watching my boss (who speaks English, Chinese, and Spanish, but not Korean) try to help three small men move a refrigerator. The process seems to involve a make-shift dolly, electrical chords used as ropes, random sweaters as moving blankets, and shouting endless instructions in Korean. Meanwhile, I'm sitting at my desk looking slightly frightened and definitely confused, making awkward faces at Santiago, who clearly feels the same. Finally, something he can understand, "Santiago--pusheh..."

I think they just squashed Mr. Bae between the fridge and the wall...

Softly, Softly

2007-11-30T14:22:00.000-08:00

I want a vacation where I roll out of bed before the morning soft gets burned away, just because it feels nice to sit and watch the sun play outside my window. Footsteps down the hall and a hand that brushes across my shoulder remind me that I'm the right kind of alone--safe and solitary, without obligation to the whims and whiles of a hundred someone elses. Not today. The room is cinnamon and mint and cheerfully greets the holiday season, and for once I'm not grouchy or hungover from the spirits of Christmas. Instead, I think and I write what I think and my mind unlocks the depths of my soul. I go there. And it's a good place to go. I'm with the me that I love and she is so beautiful and so pure. I'm the potential that God sees. In being, I change the entire course of history.

Lately I've been feeling down because I had finally reached the top in record speed only to find that it wasn't quite as high as I wanted, and now there's no where else to go. I'm too restless to spend 60 more years like this--where the peak suffocates like underground and everything goes dim and fuzzy and the cold is the bad kind of cold.

It's time to fly away on a new song
To dance the steps that will carry me off
To dream a lost dream.
It's time to melt the tears that hardened around my heart
To let them cry out of my eyes again
To warm a better warm.
It's time to embrace a softer season.

I saw a baby and his hands were so small--hands that reached for the me that I lost. I smiled at his smile, and I heard her heart start to beat again. Now the Lost Me controls the radio in my car, listening to the sappy songs because she actually knows what they mean. New feelings course through my veins as the Lost Me takes the steering wheel too. My heart starts to ache with that new something that I'm afraid to put a name to...that thing I won't call love until the years make it safe to look back on. It's miserably optimistic, I know, but it's also very, very good.

He's getting in and I'm going soft. But it's the good kind of soft. A breeze blows and it's pine.

What retard decided that side hugs were a good idea?!

2007-11-21T13:25:00.001-08:00

I talk to my dad like it's my job.

So of course last Sunday as I was sorting through some emotional whatnot, I called my favorite source of wisdom. Just like I used to do at 2 am on a rough day back in high school, I explained to my daddy what's going on and waited for some "here's what you should do."

Of course now that I'm getting older, his dos and don'ts are getting grayer, and even though I asked him to make some phone calls and arrange everything for me, his response was something more to chew on than to put into direct action. It was, in fact, the wise thing to do--to point me back to truth and encourage me to trust God--even if it wasn't what I wanted to hear. I'm sure he knows better than I do that fixing my problems for me isn't the best plan of attack.

Justine's car battery died a couple of days ago. Then someone hit my car while it was parked. Justine's dad told us that everything happens in threes, so we waited patiently for some other disaster...

So after Jenny told me the same thing my dad said, I waited for round three, which came via a gchat conversation..

"I feel like we've lost innocence or something, if we're trying to be closed off. what are we afraid of? ..and is it really living if you don't take any risks?"
I'm starting to realize this about myself (not a moment to soon?)--that I'm really cold and hardened when it comes to relationships--and I'm pretty sure that's not how it was meant to be. I can remember a time when I dreamed of meeting a guy who would tell me that I was worth risking for. Back in middle school, when I first formed my beliefs about love, the scariest of risks you could take would be to ask out that girl you'd been pining over for the entire school year. You never knew if she liked you because you never actually had the guts to talk to her, per say, but there was that one time that she tagged you out during a game of kickball and her eyes lingered for an extra moment as you dusted the attempted home run slide off your pants. How I dreamed that one day one of the popular guys would come up to me after school to say that he'd secretly liked me and couldn't live another day if he didn't at least try to make me his girlfriend.

In a movie when someone stands outside your window with a boom box, throwing pebbles at the glass in hopes of catching your attention so as to express his undying love, it's cute. In real life, we call him a stalker and wonder who actually still owns boom boxes these days...

Nowadays, my middle school daydreams about romance seem barely short of barfy. I am a rational, independent, 21st century woman who needs nothing (because I can find it all within myself) and wants nothing (because if I did, I would have gotten it by now). But then I think...as women, didn't God make us to be the soft ones? Not that women should be carbon copies of some sappy stereotype, but God did give each of us a unique personality that uniquely expresses His characteristics as Comforter, Counselor and Friend. We were created to feel emotion, to help and heal others as we fight through life together. But if we stay closed up and unemotional, we will only starve ourselves and rob others of the joys and blessings that can only come from intimate relational connection.

Which in so many words is what I think my dad was trying to get at when he said that it is probably good for me to go through this situation...to allow myself to be softened again.

So even though it seems better in this culture to be closed off, maybe what trusting God really means is renouncing the norm to allow ourselves to feel again. Because even if we get hurt, God is going to take care of us. And with all the promised positives that come through relational intimacy, maybe it is worth the risk.

It was never a question anyway of whose hands would catch you when you fall.

Rachel Ray Drinking Game

2007-11-17T00:55:00.000-08:00

Drink every time she mentions the mountains or apples.

And you really don't need anything else on the list if you want to avoid hospitalization.

Lovin' and Leavin'

2007-11-16T14:40:00.000-08:00

Isn't it weird when you can look back to some nondescript time in your past and think, "Wow...if someone had told me then that I'd end up here....I would have never believed them." It's even weirder when that moment in your past is just barely a week ago.

Perhaps because I'm no longer the open, vulnerable person that I used to be...or maybe because I've learned the importance of discretion over the years, I won't go into the personal details of this last week and why they've turned my world upside down. I will say, though, that they've got me thinking a lot about love--What is it? Why do we do it? And what does it accomplish?

Scientists say that it all boils down to a bunch of chemical reactions firing in your brain--an essential function of the body that encourages the propagation of the species. Romantics tell us that you can't pick who you fall for while Realists call love a choice. Movies reflect the I-would-die-for-you, lasts-for-always kind of yearning, and Hollywood reminds us that it's easy to bail if you fall out of it and assures that there's no shame in doing so. The Bible weaves the epic story of a perfect love from the Creator to His creation...but even that doesn't seem helpful when I'm trying to pinpoint the concept amongst imperfect humans. Contradiction, much?

Compound it all as I'm trying to decide where to plant my feet next year. I'm committed to this job only through the summer; then I can pick up and go if I want. I thought that choosing a college would be the hardest choice I ever make...because once I picked that course, it would guide me through all the rest. I would go to school, meet someone and fall in love...then the decisions just click into place like so many beads on a summer camp friendship bracelet--one right after the next. You marry the one you love. You move wherever his job takes you. Buy a house. Get settled. Have kids. Alternate between your parents' at major holidays. Send the kids to school. Grow old. Watch everyone else do the same. Step by neat little step.

Turns out, some of us don't go down that yellow brick road, and this next part of the journey has more than lions, tigers, and bears looming in the darkness. My dad told me once that I should just pick something, and as long as I keep following Christ, He'll bless my life wherever I go. Which means that somewhere along the line I have to figure out what it is I want and where I want to be. I liked Plan A because it keeps someone else calling the shots. Fish can follow the river but there's more paths to take on land. (Why do I suddenly hear the pseudo-Caribbean accent of a crab persuading me through song of the benefits of ocean life...?) Melodramatic analogies aside, I thought I had a better grasp on life when I had it partitioned away into steps and formulas. It certainly helped me to deal with all the messy emotions associated with being a girl. But if we scrap the rule-book...does that mean I'm supposed to listen to my heart again? It's been crying wolf for so many years that I don't know which way is up. I've gone from so hot to so cold with so many different guys, and wouldn't have pursued any of the jobs I've had if they hadn't fallen in my lap. I'm constantly cutting and dying my hair, piercing things and buying weird new clothes. Someone so fickle shouldn't lean on herself for support. And after pouring myself out to a few too many people, I learned to turn off the sounds so I wouldn't be such a drama queen. Do I really have to sift back through them again?

Isn't it weird when you look back on the choices you made and realize that so many of them really didn't matter one way or the other?

Busyness and the Real Girl

2007-11-04T18:10:00.001-08:00

*Depending on your definition of spoilers, this post may contain them.*

I saw the artsy film, Lars and the Real Girl, the other night with a friend of mine, and I can't seem to get this one scene out of my mind. It's toward the end of the movie, when the sex doll (yeah, check out the trailer) is sick in the hospital, about to die--Lars comes downstairs and three of the prominent old ladies of the town are sitting in the living room, knitting. He's confused as to why they are there when one of them explains, "We're sitting. That's what you do when tragedy strikes." When there's really nothing else you can do in a situation, it's nice to just have people there with you.

As I've been struggling with this idea of family in the midst of the chaos that is life in LA, I can't help but wish that we did a little more sitting. Maybe that's what defines family--family are people that you sit with...someone to come home to at night...and even if all you do is sit there going about your own business, it's nice just to have someone there with you, going about theirs. It seems like everyone is so busy--too busy to get to know the people around them, too busy to pursue families. But if we would just take the time to make those connections, then we'd have someone to sit and be busy with. Busy together is not so bad, but busy alone is...well, I mean, at the end of the day, what do you have? A list of things you've accomplished and no one to share them with. Even if those are all good and godly things...it's still just you and a list. We weren't meant to be alone.

Then I considered all that my hands had done and the toil I had spent in doing it, and again, all was vanity and a chasing after wind, and there was nothing to be gained under the sun.

--Ecclesiastes 2:11

Reason Number 274 to Hate LA...

2007-10-31T13:25:00.000-07:00

...when that guy you almost dated, but never got around to, scores a leading role on some sitcom.

Even if it is on "The N"...

The Best Storybook Ending

2007-10-28T21:45:00.000-07:00

I wish you could see life like I see it.

If you took a picture of me in my living room right now, it would fit quite nicely in some home magazine. The couches are properly fluffed and on the coffee table sits a warm flickering candle, a classy brown magazine tray and a wine glass (which is actually filled with sweet tea--we have somehow lost all of our glasses and needed to resort to the wine variety for tonight's dinner). I'm curled up on one couch, wrapped in an oversize sweater, listening to Sara Barielles, computer on one side of me, knitting on the other. It's almost ten now, and I can do whatever I'd like to fill the next few hours before I decide to sleep. No paper to write or reading to complete.

I look around myself and something about the lighting and the food settling in my stomach endorse a long, full sigh. My breathing becomes smoother, deeper, and my eyes glaze over in that sultry way they do sometimes with the pleasure of a good drink or after a nice nap. Something about this moment lets me know that everything is going to be alright. God is good. Even in the bumps and struggles, I wouldn't do it any other way.

I got a call this morning from my brother, who just started the baby steps toward parenthood with a positive EPT. In nine months, if it's a boy, he'll be Bradley Oliver Cooper. "Aren't you totally freaked out?" I asked him. Each of his words comes out with purpose and purity: "No. I'm so excited...I'm gonna be a dad.." Something inside me gets just a little softer.

Epic adventures. Pain and heartache. But always a happy ending.

This is the best of fairy tales.

Why the Disclaimer?

2007-10-24T10:08:00.000-07:00

Running on the treadmill this morning, I set my iPod to play, assuming it would embark, on my behalf, on a journey through the bizarre troves of my music. I get bored with predictability, so the shuffle option is my favorite.

My iPod started playing the A's. Oh well.

Too lazy to hit "Menu" in order to select the shuffle feature, I listened through Anna Nalick's cd, one I had to put on the back-burner for a while because it was starting to get old hat. When it got to a song called, "Consider This," my posture straightened and a smirk crept over my face. There's a little angry chick inside me that loves the snide, I-told-you-so type songs--a disclaimer, warning someone against the relational danger that is me. Anna was singing my tune...

And dreaming doesn't do no good
Cause I don't wanna lie
That I'm okay and I'm alright
I'd rather take it and forget it
Consider this a warning
Cause I'll start another fight
And you'll say its all alright
I'll wait for the day when you find I'm too much for you, baby
So lay your hands over me
And feel what you only see
But don't bother wasting your time if you're trying to change me

This isn't the only song of its kind that rolls through my brain every now and again. The Dixie Chicks put it this way:

Don't waste your heart on a wild thing
She's got a soul that won't settle on one thing
Oh this bird can't sing when you've tied its wings
Don't waste your heart on me.

I don't understand why I want to connect to these themes--do I seriously undervalue myself like this? I think it's a sort of false humility that aims at belittling my personal qualities in order to avoid coming across as prideful. I think it's pretty stupid. I would hope that in any relationship, I would present my best, most caring self--never manipulating, isolating, or sabotaging. And I'm really not like that with my girlfriends, so I don't know why I have this romanticized pessimism when it comes to dating. I used to think that I'd be the perfect girlfriend, wife, mother. After all, I had the perfect training throughout childhood. Now, my ever-peeking inner drama-queen clings to the opposite extreme. If I'm not lamenting my potential to botch what might be a good thing, I'm throwing myself an equally whiny pity party about something else.

***

As I review these words I've just written, wondering whether or not I should round out a triad of song examples, I think through my repertoire and only one other comes to mind. It's simple. Childlike. But it fits.

I've got the joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart
(Where?)
Down in my heart.
(Where?)
Down in my heart.
I've got the joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart
Down in my heart to stay.

In the News

2007-10-23T13:50:00.000-07:00

Survey Says...

Motherhood sucks.

And my waist should be 23 inches.

Oh what a world, what a world...

Rather than melt into a damp pile of steamy nothing (except my black witch's hat), I try to think rationally about all the news happening around me. I'm surprised that I haven't received a call yet from my Aunt Joy in Texas, asking if my house is on fire. Usually she's the first to stress over my safety. If there's a mudslide down in Long Beach, I expect the phone to ring. An earthquake near Stanford? Perhaps an email. Though a little over-dramatic, it's comforting in its own way.

Today when I read that our local celebrity rehab clinic, Promises, has been evacuated due to the flames, I couldn't help but roll my eyes as I contemplated where all those poor, displaced coke addicts would go. Thank goodness that made the news. I found the other two, more solid articles on a website for a UK newspaper. It reminded me about a conversation I had with a friend last night about how we want to move abroad. Of course if I leave LA for London, I suppose I'll still have to deal with issues of isolation, anti-family sentiment, and the never-ending drive to be skinny. Surprise, surprise...there's no escapism in moving.

There's nothing quite like the pessimism of coming off a retreat. But, despite the tone of this post, I actually don't feel bad right now. It's easier to avoid the crash after a mountain top experience if you never actually went up there in the first place. And, even though I was technically at a higher altitude, being in Big Bear and all, the most glorious part of the weekend was just spending quality time with some girls I don't see as often as I'd like. A few profound moments of God-connection, some delightful arts and crafts, and four hours in front of the TV watching the SC game, and you've got the Sparknotes version of the Shoreline Women's Retreat. Most of what I have to say about it will stay in the pages of my personal journal, but I liked Chrissie's summation. And if I had to end this tirade on a profound statement of theme, I guess it would be that I am still (and probably always will be) learning how to balance my involvement in the world with my desire to escape it. And even though I get mad a lot about the way things are, at least I can rest in the steadfast nature of a Good, Good God.

What then are we to say about these things? If God is for us, who is against us? He who did not withhold his own Son, but gave him up for all of us, will he not with him also give us everything else?

Romans 8:31-32

The Problem with Definitions

2007-10-21T22:39:00.000-07:00

Possibly the most politically incorrect song I've heard in a long time is "I Enjoy Being a Girl" from the Broadway musical Flower Drum Song. Here are the words, for your skimming convenience:

I'm a girl, and by me that's only great!
I am proud that my silhouette is curvy,
That I walk with a sweet and girlish gait
With my hips kind of swivelly and swervy.

I adore being dressed in something frilly
When my date comes to get me at my place.
Out I go with my Joe or John or Billy,
Like a filly who is ready for the race!

When I have a brand new hairdo
With my eyelashes all in curl,
I float as the clouds on air do,
I enjoy being a girl!

When men say I'm cute and funny
And my teeth aren't teeth, but pearl,
I just lap it up like honey
I enjoy being a girl!

I flip when a fellow sends me flowers,
I drool over dresses made of lace,
I talk on the telephone for hours
With a pound and a half of cream upon my face!

I'm strictly a female female
And my future I hope will be
In the home of a brave and free male
Who'll enjoy being a guy having a girl... like... me.

When men say I'm sweet as candy
As around in a dance we whirl,
It goes to my head like brandy,
I enjoy being a girl!

When someone with eyes that smoulder
Says he loves ev'ry silken curl
That falls on my iv'ry shoulder,
I enjoy being a girl!

When I hear the compliment'ry whistle
That greets my bikini by the sea,
I turn and I glower and I bristle,
But I happy to know the whistle's meant for me!

I'm strictly a female female
And my future I hope will be
In the home of a brave and free male
Who'll enjoy being a guy having a girl... like... me.

A) I have NEVER compared myself to a "filly" before a date.
B) I don't particularly like talking on the phone, nor do I ever put a pound and a half of anything on my face.
C) I'm pretty sure that whistling at a woman has not been appropriate for quite some time.
D) I'm going to run out of alphabet if I keep going like this.

All in all, the song is catchy, which is why I put it on my Big Bear mix to listen to on the way up to the women's retreat. (I tried to eliminate any songs that talked about boys or love per the insistence of a certain friend of mine.) I started listening to the mix this evening while I happened to be talking to someone about the difference between men and women. It's funny to me when a guy friend tries to tell me "women are like this..." I guess mostly it's funny because I do the same thing, trying to peg men as such or such...a bunch of stereotypes. I heard somewhere that stereotypes are upsetting because they are based on truth. I don't know. Anyway, I was amused. And as I listened carefully to the words, I started getting a little more pensive.

What is a woman, anyway?

(Answers to come later...or perhaps never..)

The Lonely Hearts Club

2007-10-15T14:41:00.000-07:00

One of my dad's commonly reminisced memories from college is about the time when he and three of his best friends were all single. On Friday nights, when other people were out on dates, they got together to form a "Lonely Hearts Club," a bit of a play on words to describe not only their relational state of being, but also their activity and occasion for gathering: playing the card game, Hearts. I don't know why he always tells this story, which is really not much of a story, but a random factoid that he throws out whenever it seems to fit the conversation. If it were me, I would keep that info tucked away, an embarrassing moment in history that belongs in a textbook footnote. Alas, not my dad.

Trolling through sermons today, I came across a REALLY bad sermon illustration, a joke (Anecdote? Unclassifiable bit of speech?) about some poor schmuck getting rejected from his local Lonely Hearts Club with the line, "We're not that lonely." Reminded me of my dad...in both the mentioning of a Lonely Hearts Club and in it's being the kind of lame joke that I often give him a hard time for telling.

So when I say trolling, what I mean is that I did a sermon search on Crosswalk.com to see what any of the big whigs that get their sermons posted up there had to say about loneliness. The topic has been on my mind lately, and not really in the emo, I-want-a-boy kind of way, but just in the sense that I live my life without the presence of a day-to-day family to come home to. My dad keeps nudging me back towards songwriting, and one of the biggest themes that keeps coming up in my writing is how much it can suck to live in a city--where it's hard to consistently keep in touch with people.

Unfortunately, the sermon search is a total tease--they only give you the first 300ish characters, then you have to buy the manuscript. Lame. Despite only getting the intro to a whole bunch of sermons (including plenty of random statistics and several more bad jokes stolen and recycled by pastors I've never heard of), I came out with some interesting stuff.

First was a bit of encouragement quoted from Rudyard Kipling, who said, "The human soul is essentially a very lonely thing. We are born alone, die alone, and in the depths of our heart we live alone." Thanks, Rudy. How uplifting. I get a mental image of the old-school Brit with an emo comb-over. Moving on...

Anytime I start to feel alone, I try to remember that no matter what, God is with me. I like that. It's comforting to know that He loves me so personally that He will never leave me or forsake me. On those days, what I really want to do is curl away somewhere, Bible and journal in hand, and avoid the rest of the world for the rest of my time here. It reminds me that heaven will be so great because the only thing I'll do is be in constant fellowship with God. Me and Him. Connected. It makes me want to get there soon.

The next stop for my train of thought is on the truth in Scripture that God has purposed my life. If I were not called to live here among others for some reason or another, He would take me home already.

Hmm...how to be in the world, but not of it?

Especially since I distrust the credibility of these sermons, I didn't take much from what the pastors cut and pasted together, but I did pick up on some common scripture references and figured that if it's in the Bible, you can't really go wrong.

Usually they start in Genesis: the first case of loneliness happens early in the Bible, when God says, "it is not good for the man to be alone" (2:18). God's design was that we would be made in His image--in the image of the Trinity, that famous three-in-one conundrum. The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit enjoy perfect community at all times. So, I think, if I'm supposed to be made in the image of God, why is my community a 30 minute drive down the 10 Freeway? Survey says, the Fall. Who knew some hungry chick could cause us all these problems? God intended for Adam and Eve to experience the kind of relational joy that would reflect the nature of their Creator, but along the way, humankind got a little (understatement) out of whack.

Other points of interest I found woven into sermons were references to King David and King Solomon, both of which expressed the anguish of being alone and the great problem of it: "...but woe to the one who falls when there is not another to lift him up!" (see Ecc. 4:9-12). Fast forward a few years and we find Paul struggling with the same kinds of things. He ends up in prison, and people really start to bail on him. I thought I had it bad.

It didn't take too long, though, for me to get bored with my sermon search. I would have gladly traded in all of those openers for the last 300 characters of each sermon. Assuming each one fit the 3-point sermon system (and they all seemed to, from what I saw), the last few words would be a sign off and application point. Ok, so we see loneliness in the Bible. We understand that it's not the best case scenario...but what do we do with it? How would these pastors attempt to solve the problem? A few verses of encouragement: God is always by our side...? Or maybe a charge to get involved in each others lives.

I pull out my journal and write out a few more phrases that I might try to eventually formulate into a song. It's all rough and thematic at this point, but I keep going back to the same line.

What if I called you and asked to come and sit with you a while?
We don't have to talk, I just want to feel your nearness warming my skin.

Closure

2007-10-15T14:01:00.000-07:00

Something in the universe is out of whack...

I just got an email from my summer FEMINISM professor, asking if I had suggestions about where to buy or rent a nice Halloween costume.

She's going as Sleeping Beauty.

I rest my case.

The Joys of Roommates

2007-10-09T00:38:00.000-07:00

I may regret the vulnerability of this post, but the subject was just too funny to keep inside...

First, some back-story:

On Friday I had my hair done, which was apparently the last chemically-colored straw. My mane decided to rebel in full force to the harsh dyes I've taken in over the years and now feels like straw. Some call it "crispies," others would describe it as "fried," either way it adds up to NOT GOOD. When I tried to style it on Sunday morning, I thought I would start crying. I had to turn off my music on the car ride to church and recite to myself all the verses I could think of about how God looks at the inner beauty of the heart. It was the ultimate test: whose approval am I seeking? Pathetic...but very real in its own way.

So I was complaining about my hair to my roommates tonight--contemplating whether the butch haircut needed to eliminate all the breakage would be more attractive than just shaving it off completely--when Alethea pipes up, "Maybe it's God's way of telling you that you shouldn't be dating right now." It doesn't seem so far-fetched. After all, I found I can sort of mask the damage from a distance...as long no one gets close enough to touch it, I'll be ok.

A later point in the conversation made her hypothesis seem even more probable. This part requires a bit more discretion, so forgive me for leaving out some of the details. See, besides hair issues, I've also got this cyst on my lower back which according to my doctor is not cancerous, just aesthetically displeasing. The girls and I discussed lancing options. Kirstin asked to see it...to give herself some reference for the subject at hand. She responded in expletives. And had to sit down for a while before we could proceed. Alethea: "Yeah...I think God really doesn't want you to date." I'm a freak.

So herein lies the test...because it would take an act of God for any guy who reads this to still be interested in me, why not expose my freakdom for all eyes to see? So if God doesn't want me to date, I've just made things a little easier on myself.

Is there SIN in SINgleness?

2007-10-06T08:35:00.000-07:00

Geez I hope not...especially since I'm kind of liking being single right now. Fortunately for all of us, the articles I read recently over at The Purple Cellar (and...um...in the BIBLE) seem to agree: it's definitely not. Good for me. Good for a lot of my friends.

A couple of days ago I announced to my friend Ashley that I'm going on a dating hiatus. She and I fasted from boys for a month last January. She actually challenged me to a whole year, to which I responded by laughing at her. We compromised for a month. Needless to say, she's on board with my new resolution. I explained it to her using the same reasoning that a guy friend of mine (who will remain nameless) used to explain himself. When I realized that I only wanted a boyfriend for the benefits I could get from it...I decided it was probably not a good idea for me to even go there. To avoid simply using someone, I'm just going to avoid relationships altogether. A wise choice, if I do say so myself.

Actually, I'd never really considered singleness anything other than Godly and wise. In fact, my youth leaders back in Junior High and High School were very adamant in their caution against dating relationships that would only distract from a relationship with God. You can imagine my surprise when those web articles seemed to suggest that there are a lot of people who look down on what they are now calling "protracted singleness." Maybe I get it--the thought of 40 year old men still living with their mommies...I guess you could harp on that as a lack of responsibility or something...but if we are talking about a bunch of career minded, successful, single people, well that can't be bad...right? Without the worries of a boyfriend or husband, don't I have more time to be concerned with other important ministry stuff? Paul says he wishes we could all be single like him, which makes it sound like marriage is weakness. Only for people who can't control their sex-drive. Speaking of...the human sex drive is probably so strong because otherwise we'd never pair off and procreate. It might explain the reasoning for the oppression of women too--because if we weren't told for all those years that giving birth makes us valuable...we probably wouldn't do it!

Ok...that might be my cynicism going a bit too far. Don't quote me there. But I will venture to say that the Biblical command to abstain from sex before marriage does make me think twice about wanting to do it (getting married, I mean). I wonder sometimes if I would bother with marriage at all if I had no qualms about sex before it. Why commit to someone for "better or worse" when you could commit to "till something better comes along"?

I asked my dad this while I was at home this summer. My parents have been married for over 25 years now, through both better and worse, so I figured he'd have some insight--is it really worth it? He says it is. Not that I expected him to say anything different, but according to my dad, there's something about that level of commitment that makes it worth it to get married. I do like the idea that our earthly marriages are supposed to mirror God's relationship with the church. If God made us to desire a committed relationship to him, then it seems natural that we would desire those relationships with each other. The Bible says that God is more faithful to us than we could ever reciprocate, but it also promises that our faithfulness to God is the route to deeper and deeper intimacy with him. So it goes, I guess, in marriage. The more committed we are to one another, the deeper our relationship can go. And that seems worth it. After all, who hasn't felt all alone at one time or another? Or at more times than others? Maybe what we need in life is less dating and more genuine commitment. More hands to hold on to as we walk through life and less surface level encounters.

I'm willing to bet that part of my aversion to relationships lately has been a defense mechanism against feeling sad about my circumstantial not having one (or at least that sounds like what the current psychobabble would say). Now that I'm happier alone for the moment, I have to go and analyze again why I should prefer to be married. Way to go me. Now I feel bad for not wanting what I've just convinced myself I should want. But maybe there's a simpler solution: really what I think I've just proven, or theorized...or whatever...is that people were created for relationships--for commitment that leads to intimacy. Not a foreign idea, and not foreign in a practical sense in my own life. I totally have that kind of intimacy. I mean, not as much lately--but I know why--how often do I wake up and think about the commitment I have made to my friends? To love and serve and encourage my church family at Shoreline? I've heard that marriages go bad when you start looking at them as something to fill your needs--like when I go to church because I like how it "fires me up" or how the people make me feel good about myself--when I really should view the people in my life in light of the commitment I've made to them. Friends come and go when you rate them according to how much they do for you. But friends that you commit yourself to--well you don't let those friends go because you made a commitment not to. It's the same reason I'm so close to my family--because we are bound by that blood affiliation, a tie which we (at least in my family) respect enough to fight for, even when things get messy. I guess I view blood as the deepest of commitments--one that maybe I didn't willingly make, but I still wholeheartedly honor. And it's definitely had its benefits. If I could view all the relationships in my life as equally predestined, maybe they could all go just as deep and be just as powerful as the few that I am most committed to.

Any sin in singleness? Probably not in a lot of cases--but there is certainly shame in it. A shame that we don't take more advantage of ALL the people God has blessed our lives with. A shame that we don't view our lives in light of the unique opportunities of each stage.

***

"Therefore rid yourselves of all sordidness and rank growth of wickedness, and welcome with meekness the implanted word that has the power to save your souls. But be doers of the word, and not merely hearers who deceive themselves. For if any are hearers of the word and not doers, they are like those who look at themselves in a mirror; for they look at themselves and, on going away, immediately forget what they were like. But those who look into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and persevere, being not hearers who forget but doers who act—they will be blessed in their doing." James 1:21-25

*Esther*