Get in Shape, Girl!

My friend’s husband recently wrote a blog about his health and fitness goals for the upcoming year which made me realize I had yet to write about my own as previously promised.  Now there’s a bonus incentive, however, because if I link to his post in this post, I might get a free book.  Yay.

Anyone my age or a little older perhaps may remember the following:

Oh my word, did I LOVE anything and everything “Get in Shape Girl!” as a child!  I had the leg warmers, the arm bands, and the weird hula hoop with a bar across the middle … I’m still not sure exactly what I was supposed to do with it.  All that to say that even as a child, I was excited about physical fitness.  Granted, I may not have always loved PE or sports (that came a little later), but at thee years old I was in dance classes and kept it up through my senior year of high school.  I played sports in middle school as an alternative to PE and happened to fall in love with volleyball which I played through my senior year as well.

And then came college.  All the sudden, life was totally different.  There was no more volleyball or dance to keep me active.  There was cafeteria food and late night Taco Bueno runs.  The cumulative effect was not good.  I started gaining weight my freshman year and didn’t stop until the middle of my senior year when I finally got serious about becoming active again.  I started doing step aerobics while home over Christmas break, and continued with a class at OBU that spring semester.  I started using the elliptical while I read magazines.  I built up my endurance in fun ways so that when I started running with some friends the following year, I didn’t have to start at ground zero.  Running has since become my favorite form of work out, which is odd in that I used to despise it.

But working out is only half of it.  There’s the food side as well.  I was a VERY picky eater as a child.  I went through a phase where the only thing I would eat was Chef Boyardee Beefaroni.  Go ahead, make the gagging noises with me now.    I hated most vegetables, too.  Thankfully, my parents didn’t keep much junk food in the house or I would have been an obese child, I’m sure of it!  Like I said, I was a pretty active kid and I would say around average in terms of weight.  I don’t ever remember thinking much about my weight until middle school.  I hit puberty early and looked older and more developed than most of my skinny-minnie prepubescent friends.  In 8th grade I started to think I was fat (which I absolutely was not), a self concept which wasn’t helped by a particular thoughtless comment about my weight made by a classmate.  Talk about the power of words.  I started counting calories and working out as much as I could, and honestly, if not for a fortuitous suggestion from my mother, I undoubtedly would have followed down the road so many other young girls have taken and turned to anorexia or bulimia.

Just before the end of my 8th grade year, my mom suggested we do a weight loss Bible study together.  The thought of dieting was not appealing to me because I just knew I would have to eat things I hated.  (My childhood pickiness hadn’t evolved that much.)  However, the premise of this diet/Bible study was that one could eat whatever he/she wanted as long as it was only done within the bounds of hunger and fullness.  And while I have since come to have serious qualms with this particular Bible study’s use of Scripture and oversimplification of nutrition, it could not have come at a more opportune time in my life.  I soon realized what a hold food had on me, idolatrously so at times.  I learned to eat smaller portions and stopped eating out of boredom, and as a result I lost about twenty pounds.  I started my freshman year of high school feeling good about myself and my appearance.  Volleyball helped me keep my weight within about a ten pound range, and even though I sometimes felt “fat” in comparison to other girls my age, I look back at pictures of myself in high school and think, “What the heck was I thinking?!  If only I could look like that now!”

So if college was bad for physical activity, it was worse for eating unhealthily.  I developed some really bad habits in terms of food choices and portion size.  I remembered everything I had learned in that BIble study but was unable and often unwilling to submit to its principles.  Food became more of a spiritual struggle for me than it had ever been.  As I gained more and more weight, I would look at myself in the mirror and not even recognize the person looking back at me.  I would see pictures of myself and not believe it was me.  I was a skinny person inside a fat person’s body, so for a good portion of my college days I never felt like myself.

Starting to work out again my senior year helped, at least in not gaining more weight.  I tried to only eat when I was hungry and then to make healthier choices, but it was extremely difficult.  My roommate and I did the South Beach diet for two weeks, and it was perhaps the longest two weeks of my life.    I have learned over the years that I am NOT a dieter.  If I don’t like something, I am not going to force myself to eat it.  I cannot deprive myself of my favorite things indefinitely.  After college I lost weight on and off through exercise, but nursed bad eating habits on and off as well.

A couple years later I saw a friend of mine who I hadn’t seen in several months, and she looked amazing.  She hadn’t been overweight before, but she had lost a little weight and basically just looked fit.  This was right at the peak of my dissatisfaction with myself in terms of weight loss.  I had come to learn that I could somewhat control my weight through exercise, but the poor nutrition choices I had been sowing into my life for years would someday catch up with me no matter how hard I worked out.  I wanted to be healthy, not just skinny.  For myself and my future family, I wanted to develop lifelong healthy eating habits.  After talking to my friend, I was excited to start her particular program because it focused on life change and not just weight loss.  I started eating small portions several times throughout the day focusing on lean protein and complex carbs.  I tried foods I thought I didn’t like and learned to love them.  I reintroduced weights into my workouts (which I hadn’t done since high school) and did varying intensity cardio training.  Maybe my favorite thing about the program was my free day.  One day a week I didn’t have to work out and could eat whatever I wanted.  I lost weight, had more energy, and felt so much better about myself because I was making long term strides toward health and fitness.  I felt like this was something I could keep up indefinitely because it didn’t feel as much like a program as it did a lifestyle.

That was about two and a half years ago, and I am still a strong believer in this way of eating and working out.  However, there’s the knowing and then there’s the doing.  I know that I am equipped to make the right decisions, but there’s still that mental (and for me, spiritual) battle to be fought.  This past semester I started back to school, and it was all to easy to fall back into my old college habits.  I kept up with running some, but by October the demands of school and work gobbled up any time I had for working out.  Grabbing food on the go was convenient, and I soon abandoned all efforts at making healthy food selections opting instead for what was easy.  And of course, the inevitable happened.  I gained weight.

So I am once again at the place I was when I encountered my skinny friend, with a desire for health and fitness even amidst the stresses of graduate school.  It’s been three weeks in, and I had forgotten how much I actually like living this way.  I say living because that’s what it has to be … lifestyle change.  So here’s to Resolution #1: to make significant strides toward long term health and fitness … to “Get in Shape, Girl!”

I resolve …

1. To make significant strides toward long term health and fitness.  I won’t elaborate here because I intend to address this one blog-wise in the next few weeks.
2. To take a sabbatical from television.  Over the past few years I’ve watched less and less TV, although this year being back on a student schedule has allowed for much more mindless consumption, especially in the afternoon hours (think Full House re-runs and Family Feud … yeah, I’m not proud).  I don’t want to be ridiculous about this one, however; I plan to follow the spirit of the resolution rather than the letter, especially when it comes to social occasions.  In fact, I am already exempting Thursday nights because LOST is a million times more fun with fellow addicts … ooh, and The Office.
3. To read more fiction.  This flows naturally out of the aforementioned resolution, as I would like to spend more of my free time (haha … fellow Exegesis students laugh with me now) reading for fun.  I would especially love to go back and re-read the books I “skimmed” in high school and college.  I started “To Kill a Mockingbird” over the break in solidarity with my brother who’s about to read it for school this spring.  I had forgotton how incredible it is, and it’s only reinforced my desire to read more.  My junior year of college I went on a “Greek Retreat Weekend” with my Greek Readings professor and about ten other students.  One night at dinner Dr. Roark asked us the first book we remembered reading and loving.  After several people offered their responses, he said something to the effect of, “You don’t get enough real life without reading fiction.”  More than anything Greek related about that weekend, I remember his oxymoronic statement and have since been amused to discover its truth.
4. To give my best effort toward course work.  My first semester back in school after four years off was a good one, but I definitely know I can do better.  Work was especially hard to balance (and I’m sure will continue to be so), but I think with a semester under my belt I am much better prepared to give my best effort this semester.  This will include:  not missing any classes unless decidedly planned in advance, i.e. because of travel, etc.  (However, I will not skip in order to finish homework for other classes or because I forgot to turn my phone – and thus my alarm – off vibrate, as were the few occasions for skipping this semester), actually being early for every class (five minutes is my goal), getting to know and have a good relationship with each of my professors, and finally (and perhaps most importantly) getting research done AS SOON AS POSSIBLE.
5. To put myself on a path for significant spiritual growth.  I’m actually collapsing several resolutions into one here.  In so many ways the past semester has been the best of times and the worst of times, and honestly my time with the Lord has often been of the worst category.  It’s not just my “quiet time” that I’m concerned for; I have not sought to walk in the Spirit.  I’ve drunk shallowly and thus lived shallowly, but I am beginning again to crave that intimacy and depth.  Ever since my freshman year  when Richard Foster’s “Celebration of Discipline” was assigned reading in my Intro to Minisitry class, I’ve been unable to escape the book’s opening paragraph: “Superficiality is the curse of our age.  The doctrine of instant satisfaction is a primary spiritual problem.  The desperate need today is not for a greater number of intelligent people, or gifted people, but for deep people.”  I don’t want to fall into a legalistic agenda rewarded by check marks and gold stars; I want to BE different.  BE transformed.  So tangibly, over the following year I would like to:

• Read the bible through chronologically.  It is ridiculous that I am a graduate student in Biblical studies and have yet to read my object of study in its entirety.  For some reason I get sidetracked after making it all the way to Judges; I get through the hard part and then give up and go back to familiar NT passages.  I have started several reading “plans” beginning in middle school and up to this past spring, but have yet to complete any of them.  So hopefully by trying something new (the chronological approach) and by making my goal public, this will be the year.
• Study, but more importantly actually practice the spiritual disciplines.  I want to experiment with those I have been more hesitant to practice and go deeper in those I have more confidence in.  I want to glean wisdom from those who have practiced them both now and well into the past.  I want to become the deep person Foster argues is so desperately needed.
• Attend Wheaton’s theology conference this spring over Spiritual Formation.
• Go on a personal retreat.  After reading this blog a few months ago, I was reminded of this blog I read awhile back, and the combination of the two stirred up a similar desire within myself.  I don’t know what it will look like or when it will happen, but I’ve also felt the call to “Get thee to a nunnery.”

Alright, so those are my five … well, more like ten crammed into five.  I am a lover of lists, especially lists in blog form, so this was a fun one.  What about you, friends … what are your resolutions this year?

Blessings and Woes

A few weeks ago I turned in my first grad school research paper.  Considering I haven’t written much else other than blogs these past four years, I was a little nervous about the assignment.  Regardless, I picked a topic and for a solid week did little else but read, highlight, and write … and write and write.  So, I’m sure you can understand my recent lack of blogging motivation.  : )

But, over two weeks have passed and I’m up for it again.  Actually, I wanted to write a little about my paper.  Usually, the second I turn in a research paper, I am itching to turn in my library books.  I cannot wait to have all evidence that a research paper occurred out of sight and out of mind.  And while I still am not “Little Miss Research,” this paper seemed to stick with me unlike any other I had written.

I think that picking a research topic can often be the most difficult part of the process.  My assignment was to trace a theme within one of the synoptic gospels, and initially I thought I might do something with Mark, either “kingdom” or “hiddenness.”  I was interested mainly because Mark is the shortest and we’d already gone over it in class.  Everyone I talked to, however, seemed to be thinking along similar lines.

The week before the paper was due Dr. Perrin lectured on Luke.  Towards the end of class, he split us into small groups and had each one read a different passage having something to do with the poor and then discuss the groups associated with the poor (lame, blind, etc.)  There were plenty of passages to go around.  My group read from Luke’s “Sermon on the Plain.”  Most people, even unchurched, have heard of Matthew’s “Sermon on the Mount,” or at least have heard the phrase “Blessed are the poor in spirit.”  However, what do you do with Luke who simply says “Blessed are you who are poor”?  Not sure I ever heard a sermon preached on that one.

Walking out of class that night, I changed my topic.  I hadn’t done any research yet anyway, so I made a decision.  I was going to write about the theme of “The Poor” in Luke.  The strange thing for me is that I rarely feel like I pick my research topics.  I may have some broad idea about what I’m going to write about, but once I get into it, things seem to change.  I went in thinking I would write about the poor, did all the research to that end, and ended up writing about the rich.  As I read more and more on the topic, it became more and more personal.  Rather than writing objectively about the ethical implications of Jesus’ apparent preference for the poor, I wrote personally about the ethical implications of the possession and dangers of wealth.

I don’t want this to be a Cliff’s Notes of my paper, so I’ll leave out the summarizing.  I’ll just say that after completing the paper, I still have a lot to think about.  I never considered myself rich, so I’m not sure Jesus’ stories and direct address (“Woe to you who are rich, for you have received your consolation.”) ever really spoke to me before.  However, as I read through Luke on this occasion, I saw myself reflected in the rich man, not Lazurus, in the rich young ruler, not the poor he was told to sell his goods to help.

I quoted Andrew Peterson the night I turned my paper in … the most writing I could muster at that point.  : )  His words so beautifully capture the point.  It’s not that there’s some inherent goodness in poverty or some inherent evil in wealth.  The poor are blessed because they know what it is to be in need.  They are in a spiritually enviable position in that “their economic misfortune render(s) them more responsive to the will of God.  Their daily hunger and grief h(o)ld them close to the prerequisites of the kingdom.”  (Okay, I had to get in one paper quote there … from Thomas Hoyt Jr.’s article “The Poor/Rich Theme in the Beatitudes” if you’re interested.)  Not to mention the fact that in the age to come there will be an end to their need.

Jesus speaks woes to the rich not because money is bad but because it’s easy to find our security and consolation in the world.  Like Andrew sings, I, too, am shackled by the comfort of my couch.  But the funny thing about woes is that they’re not actually condemnations.  They’re warnings.  It’s as though Jesus is saying, “Wake up!  Quit trusting in yourself and in your stuff and realize you have NOTHING apart from me!  Help those in need because I have blessed you to do so.  Glory in me, not in your possessions.”

The night before my paper was due, I had an interesting conversation with a man at the gas station behind my apartment.  We both approached the checkout counter at the same time, and he gestured for me to go first.  I stepped up to pay for my Dr. Pepper when the guy interjected, “Just buying lottery tickets.”  I think I might have smiled or said, “Oh,” my mind on getting out of there to get back to writing my paper when he piped up again, “Hope I win.”  He went on to tell me that he’d won $10,000 recently but that it was already gone.  I found this interaction a little ironic considering my paper topic.  I usually just nod and smile whenever strangers talk to me, but I thought I’d engage this man considering my paper and all.  “Yeah, I don’t think the track record’s too great on the people who win the lottery.”  To which he responded, “Yeah, you know money carries with it a kinda curse, but you know what?  Give me the curse.”  I gave an obligatory chuckle and walked back to finish my paper.

The dangers of wealth are almost inescapable.  We’re so culturally conditioned to think materially and selfishly, not eterally.  I would challenge you to read Luke with fresh eyes.  It’s amazing how much Jesus has to say about these issues.  Perhaps you’ll come away with a new or revived interest in helping the poor.  Or perhaps you’ll see a need for repentance as I did and still do.

Whatever It Takes

Humor me, but I’ve got one more running post for you guys.

Actually, “training” is a better word. I’ve got one more training post for y’all.

I’ve had a week without running to rest, recuperate, and reflect on the marathon and the five months of training leading up to it. It’s been a nice break, but I must say that it felt good to put my running shoes back on and get a few miles in yesterday. I’ve even started thinking about my next big race … perhaps a half marathon this fall in Chicago? I have realized that I do best when I have a set goal with a clear plan of how to accomplish it. Next race day? September 14th. Training starts? June 23rd.

Last semester, long before Jamie volunteered to train and run the marathon with me, we were engaged in another sort of training together. We met weekly for the purpose of spiritual encouragement and accountability. We both had the desire to memorize scripture contextually and were already working through Philippians when marathon training started. In keeping with the whole idea of “training” we decided to set spiritual as well as physical goals that were to culminate on April 27th. And while we both crossed the finish line that day in terms of the marathon, our audacious reading and memorizing goals were left behind at mile two.

When we first began training and I pictured marathon day, I pictured the shirt I would run in. On the front, of course, would be my number. On the back, however, I wanted two things. “26(.2) miles in my 26th year” and “…train yourself for godliness; for while bodily training is of some value, godliness is of value in every way, as it holds promise for the present life and also for the life to come. 1 Timothy 4:7b-8″ As race day drew near, however, I didn’t feel like I could put those verses on my back. I could mentally assent to their truth, but my course of training did not show that was what I really believed. I made the sacrifices of time and effort to discipline and train my body for a 26.2 mile race, and come race day, I was ready. However, my training for godliness was sporadic and often shallow, and on race day, I wasn’t much further than when I started.

I am convinced that almost anyone can run a marathon. People of all shapes, sizes and ages cross that finish line. I used to see these people and think, “Really? You just ran a marathon?” It all comes down to training. If someone is willing to put in the time and effort to train and train well, then she can run the race … and finish. Hardly anyone, however, can just get up one morning and decide to go out and run twenty six miles. Determination and effort without training can only carry you so far.

There’s a book I have yet to read whose title captures for me the spiritual side of training: “A Long Obedience in the Same Direction: Discipleship in an Instant Society,” by Eugene Peterson. I love that … a long obedience in the same direction. I want to be a disciple of Jesus Christ, but I oftentimes don’t want to work at it. I want to be perfect now. I want to say the right things at the right time. I want to behave appropriately always. I want to have self control. I want to be giving and unselfish. I want to snap my fingers and have all of this perfected in me instantaneously. I forget that it is in training, in hardships, in time and in pain that God “molds me and makes me after his will.” I want to work out only when I feel like it and then expect to run a marathon, but it doesn’t work that way.

I feel that my “bodily training” success has paved the way for success in “training in godliness.” I’ve learned that there are no short cuts. If I try to avoid the “hard” or the pain, I’ll only end up weak and shallow. It’s not always exciting or pleasant, but it’s always worth it. Awhile back, I read a Kate McDonald blog about her infant son’s temper tantrums. She wrote about how even at 14 weeks, Cohen thought he knew what was best and would rail against “tummy time.” She writes, “HE doesn’t know that to be able to walk, he needs to crawl and that to be able to crawl, he needs to learn to hold up his head and chest … which is why I am laying him on his tummy in the first place. It made me think about my life … and about God. God must chuckle at my twisting and turning and screaming about wanting my way and think, ‘really, Kate? Really? You are so sure you know that you know what you need, aren’t you?’ It was a small epiphany that left me thinking long after the little man had (finally) dozed off, worn out from his vain toiling. I found myself saying, ‘God, whatever it takes for me to walk … all of the stretching and discomfort … help me to quit fighting the things you have set in motion in my life to help me grow …’”

Hmm … whatever it takes for me to walk … or run. That’s a scary prayer to pray. However, it’s a prayer that will hopefully carry me beyond mile two and on to twenty six.

Let me make a disclaimer …

This post has a point which I plan to get to, but in the mean time I’m going to revert back to my old school blog days and interject some random thoughts here at the beginning.  

•  I really enjoy reading other people’s blogs.  I’ve said on several occasions to some of my favorite people that I wish they kept a blog so I could keep up with them and have a little more insight into their brilliant minds.  There are a handful of blogs I check every day, and I’m pretty disappointed when weeks and weeks go by with no update.  Then I realized that I am disappointing myself.  There are plenty of things I’m itching to write about, but for various reasons (some valid) I put it off.  I guess it’s a little late for new year’s resolutions, but perhaps one of mine should be to write more.  That is, before all my writing is for class …
• In addition to my relatively significant amount of free time (in comparison to next year), I also just got a new laptop which leaves me doubly without excuse!  No more sitting in my office late at night crafting the perfect blog; I can update in a house, by a mouse, with a louse, or wherever I feel most inspired.  
• So in preparation for next year (or tomorrow in Oklahoma), I’ve been told I need to start stocking up on the winter accessories.  Tonight I bought a new teal (that’s right, teal; it’s perhaps my favorite color) coat for $14.  And it’s Clinique bonus time at Dillard’s.  That has nothing to do with winter weather; I just wanted to share.
• Also wanted to share … the new Shawn McDonald album comes out next Tuesday, and you can listen to the whole thing (albeit with some weird “New Music Tuesday” techno sounding overlays occasionally throughout) here right now.

Okay, for the real subject of this post.  Lately I caught myself saying (and have noticed others saying as well) when discussing certain books, music or movies something like, “I don’t agree with everything he/she says, but …” or “There’s some questionable content, but …” and then proceed with my main point or purpose in discussing said piece of art.  Now it’s one thing to seriously care for the impressionableness of others, especially those younger than me that I perhaps feel some sort of pastoral obligation to.  However, what I’ve come to discern in myself is that those words have much more to do with how I think others will perceive me rather than concern for impressionability.

These disclaimers are actually a cop out, a “get out of judgement free card.”  I can cater my responses to whom I am around, always careful not to offend, or what’s worse in my mind, be misunderstood.  I can’t trust my audience to discern my heart or give grace; I tend to feel that more explanation is needed.  

I used to be a bold person, sometimes to a fault.  And while I think that years passed have left behind some much needed humility, I am now less bold, also to a fault.  Last year I faced a difficult situation resulting in a difficult conversation in which I came to terms with my own fear of making mistakes.  There are sinful mistakes which I want to avoid at all costs, but there are benign mistakes too, and those are incredible opportunities to grow.  In that situation I realized that I never wanted to make mistakes which was leading to stagnation.  I was so prideful and fearful of losing face and contradicting myself that I held back and missed out on experiences and conversations I think I was meant to have.  And not just in that situation, in life.  I cared/care too much what others think. 

I recently came across a quote in one of those blogs I frequent every day that inspired a little more boldness in me.  Not everything I think or say will be right or good, but I am in process.  Many things should shape my thoughts and words, but people’s perception of me should not be one of them.  From Art and Fear, by David Bayles and Ted Orland, “Catering to fears of being misunderstood leaves you dependent upon your audience.  In the simplest yet most daring scenario, ideas are diluted to what you imagine your audience can imagine, leading to work that is condescending, arrogant, or both.  Worse yet, you discard your own highest vision in the process.”

Darlin’, you are such a mystery to me …

Sometime last semester I was eating dinner with a new friend when she asked me a somewhat audacious question.  “Why are you still single?”  I tried to be as transparent as you can be with a new friend, I suppose, and explained that I didn’t really date just to be dating.  Most guys who have expressed interest in the past didn’t really fit the mold of someone with whom I could see myself, hence the single state. 

Then about a month ago I had a similar conversation while riding in a car with another new friend I was just getting to know.  She asked if I was dating anyone to which I replied that I wasn’t.  I fired the same question back at her, and she offered the same response.  She then paused for a second and asked, “Why is a girl like you not?”  I was flattered and could ask the very same question of her.  My friend is pretty, considerate, creative, and she loves the Lord.  Why hadn’t some great guy found her?  Our conversation then turned to the age old question … “Where are all the good guys?” 

It seems to me that Christian males have an unfair advantage when it comes to relationships.  I can’t offer a statistic on the Christian male to female ratio, but I can say that in my own observation single committed Christian females seem to outnumber males of the same caliber.  And when I say committed, I’m talking quality.  Mature.  With depth.  Not apathetic.  A lover of God and of people and a seeker of His wisdom.  Granted, not many females fall into this category either, but it feels like these guys are almost nonexistent … or well, married.  This type of guy, even if only minimally physically attractive, could pretty much take his pick from among single Christian women, and if he’s good looking – watch out. 

While I’ve had plenty of crushes in my day, I can count on one hand the number of guys I’ve ever seriously considered, guys like the quality guy mentioned above.  I can certainly appreciate attractive qualities in the opposite sex, but there’s more to it than that.  I can’t help but echo Elisabeth Elliot who said of her first husband Jim, “I thanked God for a man who put Him first.  I could not have gotten terribly excited about one whose spiritual hunger did not parallel my own.”  As she began to realize her affection for Jim and the potential for real relationship there, she described him as “a real man, strong, broadchested, unaffected, friendly, and I thought, very handsome.  He loved God.  That was the supreme dynamic of his life.  Nothing else mattered much by comparison.”  She too could appreciate the qualities that made him attractive to the world.  However, Jim’s love for God as evidenced by his love for people was the heart of her attraction. 

This handful of “quality guys” baffles me.  The other day I remembered an old Caedmon’s Call lyric, crafted by Derek Webb in the midst of some of the relationship drama which characterized much of his earlier work.  “Darlin’, you are such a mystery to me, you know.”  While I’ve heard this sentiment from many a guy, it certainly goes both ways.  I am so thankful for my married boys, Rodney and Randy, who are always willing to help shed a little light on my sometimes bewildered state.  There’s a comfort and wisdom I find in both of them.  I have no shame in saying, “Hey, listen to this voicemail and help me parse for subtext.”  However, sometimes the “handful” confuses my married boys as well, which brings me to the real subject of this post.   

If I could gather the handful in a room and without sacrificing any dignity, ask them anything I wanted, I think it might look something like this: 

1. How important is appearance?  Given the choice between an incredibly attractive Christian girl who is sweet, but perhaps not very deep, and a moderately pretty Christian girl with endearing flaws, perhaps a little less polished but with a real personality, which would you choose?  In the best book I ever started without finishing (Anna Karenina), Tolstoy hints at the trumping power of appearance in regard to female attraction when describing the character Levin.  “He had heard that women often love unattractive, simple people, but he did not believe it, because he judged by himself, and he could only love beautiful, mysterious and special women.”  All right girls, there you have it.
2. How capable are you of seeing through the games and manipulation of women?  As a rule, I do my best to avoid both of these. J  That determination stems from conviction and obviously not the outcome of said tactics, because honestly, sometimes they seems to work.  I will see girls bend over backwards to “help” the handful, but completely lack a genuine concern for the welfare of others as a whole.  Do you see this?  Or do you just think, “What a nice girl!  I should ask her out.”
3. How easy is it to tell when a girl is interested?  When culture deems it acceptable for girls to ask guys out or at least make their interest explicitly known, can you even pick up on the subtleties of less forward women?  Or are you so used to having girls throw themselves at you that you’re oblivious to the other open doors?
4. What’s the intimidation factor?  Have you ever met a girl that you wanted to date but were too reticent to approach?  Okay, well, duh.  I’m sure every guy has, but other than appearance, what factors into that?
5. In making dating decisions, how much do you rely on prayer and the leading of the Holy Spirit?  I had another car conversation awhile back with two guys on the subject of dating.  Guy #1 shared his philosophy, which he had borrowed from a sermon on singleness, that everyone should just run wholeheartedly after the Lord and after awhile look around to see who’s running beside them.  Guy #2 interrupted with his own contradicting view.  “Sometimes you just see a cute girl and ask her out.”  While I appreciated his honesty, I was also a little disheartened, because these words were spoken from the mouth of one of the handful.

 Perhaps these questions betray a personal vulnerability unintended when I sat down to write this blog, but I’m just going to go with it.  I am looking for a partner.  Yes, I’m a girl, and I want all the silly things girls want, but most of all I am seeking partnership.  Partner in life.  Partner in ministry.  Partner in love.  And I can’t settle for someone without that same desire. 

So on Valentine’s Day 2008, I want to look forward to that partnership, not in a romantic comedy “life’s all about me” way, but with the most realistic expectations a single girl can muster.  So I leave you with some wise words on love from a much quoted favorite of mine and a poem that captures both the beauty and realism of marriage.  Enjoy, friends! 

“Maybe you’re the dream I’m waking from

‘Cause I see you everywhere I go

Darlin’, you are such a mystery to me, you know

Don’t you know that

Love is different than you’d think

It’s never in a song or on a TV screen

And love is harder than a word

Said at the right time and everything’s alright

Love is different than you think” 

Love Is Different – Caedmon’s Call 

Marriage – to Tanya

How hard it is for me, who live

in the excitement of women

and have the desire for them

in my mouth like salt.  Yet

you have taken me and quieted me.

You have been such light to me

that other women have been

your shadows.  You come near me

with the nearness of sleep.

And yet I am not quiet.

It is to be broken.  It is to be

torn open.  It is not to be

reached and come to rest in

ever.  I turn against you,

I break from you, I turn to you.

We hurt, and are hurt,

and have each other for healing.

It is healing.  It is never whole. 

– Wendell Berry

My sport is your sports punishment. (Yes, I know there should be an apostrophe.)

 I’m taking a cue from Kristin Armstrong (ex-wife of Lance and blogger for Runner’s World) by deciding to chronicle my own experience in training for a marathon.  Yeah, remember that whole 26.2 miles in my 26th year thing?  It’s still on, and I figure blogging might provide some much needed accountability in said pursuit. 

Training is going well so far.  I haven’t missed a single long run, although I’ve opted out of a weekday workout here and there in hopes of giving my right knee what seems to be some needed breaks.  I thought getting new shoes would help (which they have somewhat), but the persistent ache recently reminded me of my parking lot mishap last spring.  I was walking back toward West Hall talking on my cell phone when an absentminded driver kind of tapped me (me … not my car … tapped ME) with his car.  “Um, I’ll have to call you back, Stacey … I just got hit by a car.”  I took the driver’s information, but it was just a tap and I seemed to be fine.  My knee was a little sore for the next couple of days, but then everything was back to normal.  I didn’t even remember this until a few days ago when the light bulb came on in regard to my knee.  It’s been almost a year, so the two are probably unrelated.  However, should my training somehow take an unfortunate downhill, I’ve got that “I was hit by a car!” card ready to play.  J 

Another training update … I have a partner!  Back in October when I publically declared my marathon aspirations, I was completely prepared to walk (actually run) that road alone.  However, soon after the declaration, my friend Jamie offered to train and run with me.  I was so surprised.  Jamie’s a natural runner.  She’s tiny and fit and already has a marathon under her belt.  I once heard her say that if she ran another, her goal would be to break four hours.  That’s a nine minute per mile pace.  I can barely run one mile in nine minutes!  Needless to say, I was humbled and honored that she would be willing to train and run with me knowing that there was no way we’d be meeting her goal. 

In all my experience, I must say that running with a partner is infinitely better than running alone.  On and off for the past three years I’ve run with my friend Stacey, and some of our best conversations and moments together were had running.  One dark early morning we head out for a run around Heritage Hills/Mesta Park in what began as a light mist but soon progressed into downpour.  Running and I have a fickle relationship.  Sometimes I hate it.  That morning, however, I have never loved running more.   

Jamie and I have done a couple long runs together, and the “two are better than one” adage still applies.  It makes a remarkable difference.  I still like to go on my own for shorter runs during the week, but any time I hit more than five I thank God for a partner.  I had to run nine by myself a couple weeks ago when Jamie was out of town … yuck.  Picturing myself come April 27th, I am incredible thankful that I won’t be alone. 

This past week was incredibly windy, and being from West Texas I’m a pretty good judge of wind.  I opted for a Wellness Center treadmill over my usual after work outdoor Monday run.  I quickly got bored on the hamster wheel and switched to the indoor track.  I noticed a girl pass me (a couple times I think J) wearing a shirt that said, “My sport is your sports punishment.”  I laughed for two reasons.  First of all, there was no apostrophe in “sports.”  Second of all, it’s so true!  Running was always a punishment growing up.  I ran lines in volleyball for missed serves and miles for missed practices.  For so long I had a mental block against it.  I never thought I could actually enjoy running.  But here I am, training for a race I never thought I would or could do. 

I mentioned Kristin Armstrong at the beginning of this post.  Thanks to my friend Tracy’s recommendation I’ve been reading her blog lately, and something she wrote the other day caught my attention as it could have been my own words.  So because it’s not truly a blog of mine without some sort of quote/lyric/attribution, here is what I think and feel about my own running via the words of Kristin Armstrong (italics mine): 

“And something else entered my mind as I grunted through the final miles to finish 4 minutes slower than my PR.   Something between gratitude and epiphany on the realization scale.  I realized that I am out here, most days of every week, pursuing something that does not come naturally or easily to me.  And I have been doing this for 5 years.  Never in my life, before running, did I ever push hard after something that did not rank high on the list of things that come easily to me.  I have always aspired to/excelled at things that I was already good at.  This probably stems from fear, pride, laziness or some perfection compulsion; my priest or therapist would know for sure.  But running isn’t like that for me.  It’s hard for me.  I struggle.  I suffer.  I get discouraged.  I get mad.  I celebrate, sometimes.  And when I chase after Paige, Katie or any other zippy friend, it’s not because I suck, it’s because they don’t.  Running for Paige is one of her passions, one of her God-given talents, as natural for her as nursing a baby or riding a horse bareback.  It isn’t one of mine, and that is okay with me (or will be as soon as this epiphany sinks in), because I love it anyway…I just love it differently than she does.  I love it the way you love a rivalrous sibling, deep tissue massage, a session with your therapist, giving birth, or a big fight with someone you love.  It doesn’t always feel good in the moment, but ultimately you are a better person for it. 

So I may not always run the way I want to run, race the way I imagine myself racing, and my performance outside may only rarely reflect the runner on the inside, but there is a certain endurance rush reserved for those of us who have to work extra hard just to stand on the start line and dream.   

There is a unique beauty to pursuing the glow that resides just beyond our reach.”

A Beautiful Mask

Evidently I like to make up words.  Last week I was meeting with a group of people, and I mentioned how I sometimes feel fake when talking to international students.  However, I didn’t use the word “fake”; I said “disingenuine.” I soon corrected myself (after being called out on it J) and explained that I meant “disingenuous.”  My point in sharing this somewhat boring anecdote is to say that in my position relating to students on a daily basis (international or American) I sometimes have to play the part. I’m an introvert living an extroverted life.  And while most days I love smiling and greeting every person I see, there are days that it doesn’t come naturally.

 

Like anyone else I suppose, occasionally I’ll run across someone I find especially difficult to relate to.  In such cases I often overcompensate for my lack of interest in or affection toward them, which is when the disingenuousness (Is that a word??) really rears its ugly head.  I used to see my only two options as: 1. acting fake or 2. acting rude.  Recently, however I remembered a lovely story C.S. Lewis recounts in Mere Christianity about true inner transformation.  “The … story is about someone who had to wear a mask; a mask which made him look much nicer than he really was.  He had to wear it for years.  And when he took the mask off he found his own face had grown to fit it.  He was now really beautiful.  What had begun as a disguise had become a reality.”  Lewis goes on to explain, “there are two kinds of pretending.  There is a bad kind, where the pretense is there instead of the real thing; as when a man pretends he is going to help you instead of really helping you.  But there is also a good kind, where the pretense leads up to the real thing.  When you are not feeling particularly friendly but know you ought to be, the best thing you can do, very often, it to put on a friendly manner and behave as if you were a nicer person than you actually are.  Very often the only way to get a quality in reality is to start behaving as if you had it already.”  I am convinced (as was Lewis) that this pretending is not merely human striving, but rather God transforming us into the image of His Son.  I may begin in a pretense of love, but I am praying that God actually change me into a loving person … no longer “disingenuine.” 

Influence, Imitation, Impact (Yes, alliteration is my favorite rhetorical device.)

Growing up, I always looked up to the “big girls.”  With no big sister of my own to emulate, I was constantly aware of the older girls around me.  There were neighborhood friends, older girls at church, babysitters, cousins and older sisters of my friends.  As a young girl and then as a teenager, these girls all had incredible potential to influence me in terms of clothing choices, musical tastes, decisions, etc.  What’s funny is that I’m pretty sure I haven’t outgrown this potential to be influenced.  Take my “currently listening” for example.  I have avoided the Sufjan Stevens bandwagon for a few years now, dismissing him as too trendy (with the small exception of getting his Christmas album this past year for his version of O Come, O Come Emmanuel).  However, this past week after reading a blog by an artist I particularly admire, and noticing that in her currently listening slot sat an SS album, I totally gave in and bought Illinois the next day.  And, as is usually the case when imitating those I most admire, I have not been disappointed.  Love Casimir Pulaski Day.

 

A couple weeks ago a resident in my building approached me in the laundry room to introduce herself to me.  She sat behind me the night before at a campus ministry meeting, and she just wanted to say “hi.”  She also mentioned how much she appreciated the song I played at our first building meeting at the beginning of this semester.  (On a side note – I’m a complete sucker for lyrics.  If I’m ever speaking at anything and there’s a song that fits the situation, you can be sure I’ll play it.  I played “Faith My Eyes” for all my sweet incoming freshman girls this year.  “Keep ‘em coming, these lines on the road.  And keep me responsible, be it a light or heavy load.  Keep me guessing with these blessings in disguise, and I’ll walk with grace my feet and faith my eyes.”)  She told me that she downloaded the song and now listens to it every day. 

 

I suppose I’ve thought a lot more about the influence others have on me rather than the influence that I have on others.  I’m not sure that anyone really realizes the ability they have at any given moment to impact others for good or bad.  I’m not even talking about laundry girl, really.  I realize that my influence on her is probably pretty insignificant.  In talking with her, however, I began to think about how in my role as a hall director, I am watched constantly.  There are 300+ girls in my building, many of whom I’ve never met yet know who I am.  I remember my two hall directors from my freshman year, and while I didn’t know them well enough to want to pattern my life after, I did take notice of them.  I noticed if they were friendly, if they were genuine. 

 

Most of the people I have looked up to, those I did want to pattern my life after, probably never knew the level of impact they had on me.  Kara Frazier wrote me a note at youth camp in high school that I still have to this day.  Her encouragement and sharing of scripture has had lasting significance.  Jennifer Mitroff’s investment in me one summer set the course of my college career.  Amy Brown’s wise words and modeling of a godly dating relationship planted desires and convictions within me that remain to this day.  John and Sarah Green’s passion for God’s word nurtured a similar love in my own life.  I doubt any of these people realize the impact their words and actions had on me.  They were simply being faithful to the lives that God had for them, and the natural outpouring of that was impact for the kingdom.

 

I want to be a person of influence.  I want to lead a life worthy of imitation.  I want to be able to say like Paul, “Imitate me as I imitate Christ.”  I want to be a true disciple, and I want to be a disciple maker.  Not perfect, but persevering.  Learning.  To quote Emily Saliers, “If the world is night, shine my life like a light.”

 

So in the vein of light shining, I’ve decided to import my blog into Facebook.  Much like my hesitancy with Sufjan Stevens, Facebook blogging has seemed a little too pervasive.  I don’t think I’ve ever written anything that I’d be ashamed for someone to read, but my approach toward blogging in the past has been a little more private.  I figure if someone wanted to read it, they could follow the link from my Facebook rather than be alerted via mini feed every time I have a new epiphany.  However, I’ve been challenged and encouraged by random strangers’ blogs before, and I would hope that my writing might do the same for others.  So, hello new friends.  We’ll talk again soon.

“Too soon and we take it all for granted; too late is more than we can bear.”

For almost three weeks now I have been waiting on some significant information, information that will determine where I will be and what I’ll be doing for the next year or two.  I liken this waiting to when I applied for my current job three years ago and was told I should find out by the end of the week (interviewed on a Tuesday) if I got the job.  When five o’clock that Friday rolled around with no news, I was a little disheartened.  It seemed to me that taking longer than expected couldn’t be a good thing.  But come Monday morning I got a call telling me I got the job, and I honestly think my joy was somewhat enhanced by the wait.

Someone recently asked me to share the most significant spiritual lesson I had learned over the past year.  My mind immediately went to the Lord’s faithfulness.  As I look back on the course of my life, I am amazed at all the circumstances that God used to bring me to where I am now, how He prepared me for each new step, and how faithful He was to provide for me along the way.  The Lord is so faithful to provide for all of my needs, and oftentimes, in true Good Father fashion, many of my wants.  I have learned to trust His wisdom, even if it means disappointment.  So that’s where I am now, waiting and trusting.

When I was a junior in college, I really felt led to apply to be Head RA my senior year.  It was odd; I had never really considered the position, and my desire had always been to stay an RA in WMU until I graduated.  I loved that place so much, and I couldn’t imagine being happier anywhere else on campus.  But as the time drew near to apply, I really felt like it was the right thing for me to do.  I prayed about it like crazy, along with my family and small group, and I put my very best effort into my written application and interview.  There wasn’t one thing I thought I could have done differently; I was all in.  And then we got our letters, and I didn’t get it.

I was disappointed.  I cried.  I was confused.  Although I trusted that it was somehow right, I couldn’t understand why God would place it on my heart to apply only to have it not work out.  It was His desire in the first place, not mine.  So what was I supposed to do now?

I think there are some experiences that people go through, bad experiences, horrible even, and they never get to know why.  Thankfully, the Lord has since shown me in several different ways why that position was not best for me.  Most significantly, the Head RA position lasted through the summer after graduation, and the job I got began June 1st.  Also, as a Hall Director each year for the past three years I have had to make a decision between two amazing Senior RA candidates, and my experience of going through that process has brought a much needed understanding and empathy.  I could list lots of other little things, but really my point is that God saw where I would be years down the line and acted totally in my best interest.  Faithful and trustworthy indeed.

Sometimes I wish that God wanted me to be a nurse, or an accountant, or a high school English teacher.  Anything that I could just go to school for, graduate, and then do.  But when I look at what brings me the most joy, what challenges me, what I could see myself doing for years to come, it is none of these things.  More than anything else, I want to study and learn Scripture, its language, its context, its application.  I want to help others learn.  At this point I’m thinking college professor, but I’m open.  It has been my experience that God doesn’t reveal His will to me in huge chunks, but rather in small steps of obedience.  So here I am, three years out of college, with an awakened and incredibly intense desire to be back in school.  But just like Head RA, I didn’t choose this desire.  Believe me, if I had chosen, it would be a lot easier than this.

So I’m sitting here, thinking that I need to remind God that He’s led me up to this point, that this was His idea, not mine, that this is for His glory, so why wouldn’t He follow through on it?  But my perspective is limited.  And the Lord is wise.  It comes down to what I believe about Him.  Even if I am disappointed, and even if I never get to know why, I will say as Job did, “The LORD gave, and the LORD has taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD.”

Praise the Lord for significant lyrics, because other than Scripture, nothing speaks more to my heart and circumstances.  One song has been my anthem over the past year, as it continually applies to situation after situation.  As I seem to be in a season of waiting, I am comforted by the truth of these words.

There’s a restlessness in the soul of man

Nobody’s tamed it yet

You never fail to keep any promises

But somehow we forget

 

That You’re always right on time

 

And You feed us all with a silver spoon

And like Your foolish kids

We start worrying about what we’re gonna do

When the hunger comes again

 

But You’re always right on time

With an open hand

You have exactly what I need

Daily bread, daily bread

 

You have the wisdom and the patience

We need Your grace to see it clear

Too soon and we take it all for granted

Too late is more than we can bear

 

So You’re always right on time

With an open hand

You have exactly what I need

Daily bread, daily bread, daily bread

 

(Jill Phillips – Daily Bread)

 

Who knows, maybe Monday I’ll get my news.  It’s definitely not too soon, and I won’t take it for granted.  However, God is good, and He hasn’t given me anything I couldn’t bear.

20 Questions for 2006

A friend passed this on to me as a great way to reflect on the past year, so I thought I’d share.

What was the best CD you got? (purchased or burned)

Hmm … probably the most difficult question on here!  I have really grown to love The Flaming Lips this year, so perhaps At War with the Mystics.  Although not my favorite upon first listen, I have grown to really appreciate Jill Phillips’ Nobody’s Got It All Together as well. 

 

What was the best book you read?

For Christmas I got my dad a book called 501 Must Read Books and after flipping through it, I am completely and utterly ashamed of my lack of reading.  I want to be a reader!  I started Anna Karenina this summer, but had to turn it back into the library before I finished it.  The best book that I read from start to finish within the past year would have to be Don Miller’s Blue Like Jazz.

 

What was the best movie you saw at the theater?

I’m cheap when it comes to movies, so I hardly ever go.  I check out movies from the library or from Randy’s on Thursdays.  I’m trying to even remember movies I saw in the theater … none worth mentioning.

 

Favorite quote you heard in 2006:

I might have heard this in late 2005, but “There are two great lies that I’ve heard:  ‘The day you eat of the fruit of that tree, you will not surely die.’ And that Jesus Christ was a white middle-class Republican, and if you wanna be saved you have to learn to be like Him.”  Derek Webb, from “A King & A Kingdom”

 

Friends you made this year?

Ben, Michelle, a few more church friends, new RAs, new boss, new residents

 

Friends you lost this year?

Hmm … I can really only think of two: Katrina and Robin.  Why does everyone have to graduate and get married?  These were two of my RA girlies I’d had from the beginning, and I shed a tear or two when they left.

 

Something you learned about yourself:

Haha.  Read this.

 

Favorite summer memory:

Taking Jayme to The Fray … her first concert ever.

 

Favorite Spring memory:

Watching Jayme catch Tony Parker’s shoe at the Spurs game we were at over spring break.

 

Favorite holiday memory:

Hmm … throwing up Christmas day?  No, it would have to be the vast amount of quality time spent with my family.

 

TV show you watched the most:

It would have to be a toss up between Gilmore Girls and LOST.  I never miss an episode of GG, and I usually put on old seasons while I’m cleaning my apartment or doing laundry.  However, over the course of 2006, I watched the first two full seasons of LOST as well as the six episode opener of season 3.

 

Something you learned about God:

To quote Jill Phillips, “But You’re always right on time.”  Seriously, I have never been surer of His perfect timing than over the course of the past year. 

 

Coolest clothing item you purchased:

Well, I did buy a pair of Ralph Lauren jeans for $5 at a thrift store in Abilene over the summer.  Although I just bought this last week, (technically not 2006) I did see it this past fall and really, really wanted it: 

Best toy, electronic device, etc you got this year:

Um, no question there.  My iPod, hands down.  (Actually, I think I got it at the end of last year, but it still reigns as best toy.)

 

What news event stuck out to you most this year?

Like reading, I have a similar guilt about not keeping up with current events.  However, I would have to say that the event that most impacted me the most this year was the murder of Jamie Bolin.  It felt like something from a movie.  I actually read a little of her murderer’s blog which made it even more bizarre.

 

What song would be your theme song for 2006?

Jill Phillips – “Daily Bread”  She sang it for me at her concert!

 

What books of the Bible (if any) did you read this year?

I read through the New Testament through the lens of prayer this year, noting every verse in which it’s mentioned, doing my best to gain a fresh perspective untainted by what I or anyone else had previously conceived.

 

Anything you wished you did this year?

Saved more money, managed time better … little things that make a huge difference. 

 

Biggest change in your life this year:

Well, that would probably be dating someone.  A close second would be Body for Life.  Yay for becoming healthy!  Oh, and I learned how to knit.

 

What are the big plans for 2007?

More Body for Life, running a HALF MARATHON come April, a possible NYC trip with Jayme this summer, hopefully lots of concerts and … grad school/seminary in the fall?  I also want to continue studying prayer … going back over my notes from the past year, reading some books and most importantly, praying. 

It all comes out in Moron.

So I had sort of an epiphany the other day, and if Xanga is good for anything it’s expounding upon epiphanies.  In 11th grade my history teacher told me she thought one of my strongest intelligences (of the seven) was my knowledge of self, and I think she’s probably right.  I tend to be pretty introspective and incredibly analytical in regard to self.  So I was surprised the other day to realize something about myself that had never really risen to the level of conscious thought.  It suddenly hit me that I am incredibly unskilled at male interaction.

 

Now it’s not like I thought I was some grand master with the fellas up until said epiphany.  No, it’s more like I never really gave much thought to it at all.  I have always been a girls’ girl.  I can’t even name one good guy friend I had growing up.  Sure I had a few camp flings and one real boyfriend in high school, but as a whole I just wasn’t around guys in social settings very much.  I had my close girl friends, and I was content.

 

Actually, looking back I suppose I did have a few guy friends in high school … a few college guys from my church.  Youth interns, Sunday School teachers, and ski trip companions: these were my friends.  However, they were not my peers, a point I will bring out more in a moment.

 

My college social experience disappointingly varied little from high school.  I seemed to be really good at developing female friendships (some of which are still best friends to this day) but really deficient when it came to boys.  It didn’t help that I was an RA in an all female residence hall my sophomore and junior year.  Any male interaction outside of class came by way of friends’ friends, boyfriends, or husbands.  I do remember wishing I had guy friends; I just didn’t know how to get them.

 

Graduation came and went, and then thankfully a new job.  Now while job-wise I didn’t move far from my stint as an RA (hall directing an all female residence hall) I did meet two new friends, and much to my delight, they were boys!  Married boys, but still boys nonetheless.  My first year as a hall director I developed very close friendships with those boys, and I learned quite a bit. 

 

About two years ago, I started visiting a church with a fairly large group of 20 something singles (honestly one of the appeals).  It was great to meet people (guys included) my own age (aka, no longer in college) and there were always lots of opportunities for interaction.  I began developing some surface level friend/acquaintanceships with guys.  Yay for Sarah!  However, I still found the interaction difficult and oftentimes awkward.  Why is it that I had so much ease with the married boys, but so much difficulty with the singles?  Aha!  Epiphany!

 

My whole life I have been drawn to male relationships that are “safe.”  In high school it was the college boys.  Now it’s the married boys.  There is so much potential for friendship, because there is no question of relationship.  I don’t have to worry about what they think of me (as I do with guys I’m interested in) nor do I have to worry about unreciprocated feelings (as I do with guys I’m not interested in).  Nice and safe.

 

So currently in my interactions with single males, I tend to behave in one of two awful ways:

1) If I have interest or feelings for the guy, I get obnoxious.  It’s hard to describe, really, but overall I feel like I become immature.  I show off.  I say stupid things.  I try too hard.  On an episode of Gilmore Girls there’s this moment when Rory’s freaking out over this guy she likes and she tells Lorelai that she doesn’t want to “do or say anything else that’s gonna be remotely moronic.”  Lorelai responds, “I’m afraid once your heart is involved, it all comes out in Moron.”  And while I am not sixteen years old, I am equally as susceptible to freak outs and moron-speak.

2) If I don’t have any interest in dating the guy, and if I pick up on any interest on his part, I act cold.  I generally try to act friendly toward everyone, but in the case of those unreciprocated feelings, I have to play the cold card.  See, it’s not like I have the token “Sorry, I have a boyfriend” response ready to dole out.  It has been my experience that the slightest bit of attention you pay to one of these guys will only hurt them in the end.  It encourages their unwelcomed advances.  If I even get the slightest inkling that a guy may like me (and I don’t want him to) I do everything I can to avoid interaction with this person.  Honestly I would rather treat someone coldly as a preemptive measure than have that awkward rejection conversation later on down the road.  Cruel to be kind. 

 

But back to the epiphany … I am socially retarded when it comes to guys.  But I think that there’s a solution.  First of all, I need to grow a back bone.  Yes, there is a time to pull back so as not to encourage further advances from what I call “the ickies.”  However, I need to be much more open to friendships with guys that I’m not really interested in dating.  I think that I’m afraid I won’t have the nerve or tact to turn someone down graciously, and that I might end up leading someone on out of fear of confrontation.  However, there is so much to learn from all sorts of different people, and I am robbing myself of diverse and fruitful friendships.  Second of all, I need to calm down.  I need to quit faking confidence and learn to be confident.  I can’t allow myself to be intimidated by guys I’m interested in.  I know there will always be some inevitable moron-speak, but elevating any person to a level that in turn puts me on a lower level is just ridiculous. 

 

And now comes the hard part.  I can’t look in the mirror and forget what I look like.  Time to embrace my newfound realizations and be open.  I’ll let you know how it goes.

08.20.06

“You know, there are very few times in my life when I find myself sitting around thinking, ‘I wish I was married.’  But today … I mean … I … I’m happy.  You know?  I like my life.  I like my friends.  I like my stuff.  My time.  My space.  My TV.  But every now and then, just for a moment, I wish I had a partner.  Someone to pick up the slack, someone to wait for the cable guy, make me coffee in the morning …”

 - Lorelai to Luke in GG episode # 79, “The Incredible Shrinking Lorelais”

I suppose I have thought a lot about my future husband/marriage (notice I didn’t say wedding).  Never really in an “Oh, I can’t wait to be married” way, but more in an “I wonder what that will be like” way.  I was always counseled never to date someone I wouldn’t consider marrying, which of course raises the marriage potential question for every guy I’m attracted to.  College came, and I was suddenly surrounded by friends falling in love and getting married.  Then there’s that ever popular OBU phrase, “Ring by Spring.”  Honestly, it was all a little much, and I began to push aside most thoughts about my own future marriage.  I didn’t want to meet my husband at OBU … that was too typical for me. 

Well, I graduated, and a strange thing happened.  I began to think about marriage again.  It was odd; a desire I had previously pushed aside was suddenly reawakened.  I don’t want to give the wrong impression; it’s not like it’s all I thought about or anything, but it was there.  And it’s still there.  Occasionally I think about wanting to get married.

Even as I write those words, I almost feel embarrassed.  Because I don’t want to be that girl.  The girl who is waiting for her life to start.  The girl who is is incomplete in herself.  The girl who thinks her wedding day will be the best day of her life.  But you know what?  I am not that girl, and having a desire for marraige doesn’t make me her either.

Recently I was reminded of the particular Gilmore Girls episode referenced above.   Lorelai’s words could be mine.  “Every now and then, just for a moment, I wish I had a partner.”  I like that word, “partner.”  Partner in life.  Partner in ministry.  Partner in love.  I once received a wedding invitation with Ecclesiastes 4:12b printed at the bottom.  In context, it says, “Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their work: If one falls down, his friend can help him up.  But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up!  Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm.  But how can one keep warm alone?  Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves.  A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.”

I think in a society in which independence, often to the point of isolation, is praised, it is important to reiterate the necessity and reality of interdependence and interconnectedness.  Granted, this is not limited to marriage, but what an amazing representation of it marriage can be.  Marriage is a good thing, and I will no longer be embarrassed to admit my desire for it.

So where does that leave me?  With a desire yet unfulfilled.  So what am I supposed to do now?  Three things come to mind: 1) I am to become the person God has created me to be.  2) I am to live my life now and live it abundantly.  3) I am to TRUST GOD.  Now that’s not too difficult, is it?  Haha.

I am so thankful for the wisdom God has given Derek Webb, along with the talent and artistry to express that wisdom through music.  Awhile back I did a Derek Webb lyric tribute on each post in the weeks leading up to his concert, but I never posted the lyrics to my favorite song of his, knowing that I would want to use them in this, my final post on relationships/singleness/dating/marriage.  So I leave you with them now, along with a scripture a college girl shared with me when I was in high school in regard to my dating relationships.  Both are extremely significant to me when it comes to this area of my life, and I pray that they speak to you as well.

Table for Two – Caedmon’s Call

 

Danny and I spent another late night over pancakes
We talked about soccer and how every man’s just the same
And made speculation on the who’s and the when’s of our futures
And how everyone’s lonely but still we just couldn’t complain

 

And how we just hate being alone
Could I have missed my only chance
And now I’m just wasting my time
By looking around

 

But you know I know better, I’m not gonna worry ’bout nothing
‘Cause if the birds and the flowers survive then I’ll make it okay
Given a chance and a rock see which one breaks a window
And see which one keeps me up all night and into the day

 

Because I’m so scared of being alone
That I forgot what house I live in
But it’s not my job to wait by the phone
For her to call

 

Well this day’s been crazy but everything’s happened on schedule
From the rain and the cold to the drink that I spilled on my shirt
‘Cause You knew how You’d save me before I fell dead in the garden
And You knew this day long before You made me out of dirt

 

And You know the plans that You have for me
And You can’t plan the ends and not plan the means
And so I suppose I just need some peace
To get me to sleep

“Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight.”  Proverbs 3:5-6

07.05.06

When I started my job over two years ago, I went in thinking, “This is the perfect job for me.  It’s a natural extension of what I’ve already been doing the past three years.  I can take some time to make sure of what I really want to do with my life.  That way I won’t spend thousands of dollars in graduate school only to find out that I hate what I was preparing for and wasted untold amounts of money.  I’ve been in school for seventeen years; I desperately need a break.  It’ll just be two years, maybe three.”

 

I am fully confident that all of these thoughts and feelings were completely legitimate.  I have never questioned whether or not this is where I was supposed to be.  I truly believe that my job is a good and perfect gift that came down from the Father of the heavenly lights.  The past two years have been precious to me.  I have learned so much and grown tremendously.  And while I have been stretched, I have recently realized that I have also grown quite comfortable. 

 

It would be one thing if this was my chosen career or if I felt I was fulfilling my life’s calling.  It’s quite another to sit comfortably in an extended adolescence … basically college without studying and tests.

 

As this summer is quickly passing, I’ve thought several times, “Is this my last summer here?  My last Edmond 4th of July?  My last RA Training?”  And it’s bizarre.  My “maybe three” has become “yes three, maybe four.” 

 

The thing is, it doesn’t really matter if I work here four or forty four years if I am pursuing my calling.  But the question is, can I really stay here much longer and honestly say that’s what I’m doing? 

 

There is an article in the latest issue of Relevant that speaks to this very issue.  It was a wakeup call and challenge to me personally, and I see it as completely “relevant” to those in my same situation.  “Get a Haircut and a Real Job” by Mark Steele challenges twentysomethings to get out of Neverland, “that post-college phantom satisfaction that lulls one into whims of lackadaisy” with six practical tips:

 

1.      Don’t Hit Snooze

Basically a call to forsake laziness, the first point is pretty straightforward.  Don’t waste time.  Steele writes, “Yes, we all enjoy a good sleep-in, but the whole purpose behind having a weekly Sabbath is that lethargy is the exception, not the rule.”

2.      Make a Freakin’ Move

Now that you’re not wasting time sleeping in, do something with that time.  “Work with what you’ve got.  Take a long hard look at your skill set, and then actually do something related to that skill set … And before you ask: No, debating plot points from Lost is not a skill set.”

3.      Perhaps You Are the Poser

“I hate to break this to you, but if you talk big plans about your ‘mission’ or ‘calling’ but lack any forward motion, (spoiler alert) you are a massive tool.”  Ouch.  Forward motion.  Those words put this next year into a whole new perspective.  While I don’t know the specifics of my future, there is enough light on the path for now.  “If you are uncertain about the specific direction of your life, there are other ways to act upon the truth.  They are called “disciplines,” and they develop as such in your life.  Don’t wait for answers.  Instead, be practical and spiritual.  Exercise.  Pray.  Expand your knowledge.  Fast from meals – or fast from media … Put yourself in a lifestyle pattern of growth, and growth will indeed come.”

4.      Opinionated is Easy

I have a hard time with people (including myself) who in all their intellectual snobbery find something wrong with everything yet do nothing to make things better.  It may be “cool” to criticize, to give oneself the feeling of superiority over another based simply on a highly educated opinion, but what good does it do anyone?  Now I am all for criticism … but to an end.  “If you obsess hard enough, I’m quite certain you can devalue another’s career, the Church throughout history, fans of Michael W. Smith, the Bible and your mother’s claim to have birthed you, but that doesn’t make anything you do productive … a lifestyle of criticism will lead absolutely nowhere.”  Let’s light a candle, people.

5.      You Can (Really) Go It Alone …

This one is tough for me.  I look at the hours and hours of reading, and writing, and thinking possibly ahead of me, and I am fearful.  Do I really have it in me?  Am I smart enough?  Am I dedicated enough?  “(I)f the passion is in you for a frightening thing, then you need to get out there and get frightened.  Just because your dream is daunting does not make it untrue …God continues to do great things, and for some amazing reason, He continues to do them through people.  However, He is looking for those who will both trust Him and take action.”

6.      …But Not Too Alone

The truth is, we need others, and others need us.  I like to think that I am learning to live and love in community.  Regardless of my specific “calling” in life, I have a general calling to love others … and I can do that now.  “Stewing in uncertainty?  Go help someone.  Tend to be critical?  Go love someone.  Waiting for a next step?  Go encourage someone.  Looking for value?  Go to someone’s rescue.  The worst plan imaginable is for each and every one of us to wallow in isolation until we think we have our plans figured out, because isolation is the opposite of the real plan.  It is in the selfless efforts toward one another that we actually change and grow.”

 

So I’m a little heavy on the quotes, but they are all so significant to me.  If you get a chance, you should really read the whole article … a must for floundering post-grads and current college students at a loss for the next step. 

05.21.06

I was fully intending for my next post to be about the bests and worsts of my May-cation (mostly bests), and I still fully intend to post them, but this afternoon I am compelled to choose another topic.

I love my church.  I could list a myriad of reasons, but this morning I felt especially thankful for my pastor.  I am blessed to hear week to week from such a learned yet humble shepherd.  This morning I felt like I was back in Hermeneutics, except this time rather than sitting in a classroom with twenty or so peers, I was in a sanctuary with maybe a thousand people, young and old, all walks of life, all hearing sound teaching about how to read and study the Bible.  What a novel idea, actually teaching people about context and literary forms and their implication for application! 

So I’m sitting there in my pew (actually it was a chair … sadly even my home church in Texas got rid of its pews in favor of plush chairs) agreeing wholeheartedly with the message, thinking that it was about time Joe-Schmo churchgoer heard this kind of thing, but not thinking about any personal implication.  That was until Dennis made a comment something like, “People ask me all the time how they can pray for me.  I tell them the greatest thing they can pray on my behalf is for discipline to be a faithful student of the Word.” 

And there was the personal implication.  I am incredibly privileged in regard to my exposure to Biblical knowledge.  I grew up in church, had close inquisitive relationships with both my youth minister and pastor uncle, went to a Christian university where my parents graciously allowed me to choose Biblical Languages as my major … plenty of exposure.  In a small group meeting last year, I was talking about my background/college major with the high school minister of my church, and he said something like, “So what do you do with a Biblical Languages major other than have super amazing quiet times?”  I explained my intentions to teach after getting a heck of a lot more education, but thought to myself, “You would think that, wouldn’t you?”  I mean, someone like me, with my upbringing and education, I should have super amazing quiet times.  I should be a diligent and faithful student of the Word.  I should be so much further along …

But I am lazy.  I rarely finish what I start.  I haven’t even read the entire Bible … the collection of books I view as my authority and nourishment, and I haven’t even read them all.  Looking at my life, I would have to say that the single most attacked area of my life is my spiritual growth through reading, studying, and applying Scripture.  More than any sin, I am continually defeated when it comes to integrating the Word into my schedule and life.  I have tasted and seen what God does in and through me when I am grounded in His Word, yet I inevitably fail to read, fail to seek.  It doesn’t make sense to me; I am full of questions, full of love for the Lord and His Word, and I genuinely find joy and answers and inevitably more questions whenever I read … it’s an incredible cycle.  Difficult yes, but exceedingly worth it.  So why do I stop?  Why do I choose anything else over that precious and necessary time?  While I am not one to claim the dismissive cliché of “the devil made me do it,” I am neither blind to the battle that wages for our mind, our devotion, our love.

“Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power.  Put on the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes.  For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.  Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything to stand.  Stand firm then with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace.  In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one.  Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.  AND PRAY IN THE SPIRIT ON ALL OCCASIONS WITH ALL KINDS OF PRAYERS AND REQUESTS.  WITH THIS IN MIND, BE ALERT AND ALWAYS KEEP ON PRAYING FOR ALL THE SAINTS.”  Ephesians 6:10-18

So on behalf of this saint, like Dennis, I ask that you pray for discipline that I might be a faithful student of the Word.