Blog

Sometimes decisions feel heavy.

That this one decision you make is going to determine the rest of your life, so you better not make the wrong one. 

And, sometimes, one decision can affect your entire life (like marriage…).

Decisions can often have consequences. And sometimes I’m so scared of the possible consequences that I feel paralyzed in making any sort of decision at all. I want to evaluate every possibility before I decide on something and, on some level, it’s impossible to do.

No matter how many what-ifs I go through, no matter how many scenarios I play out, no matter how much I try to know as much as possible about deciding on something… I still feel in the dark as I’m forced to decide. I’m never really sure…

It’s so easy to get caught up in believing there’s always a ‘right’ decision to be made, and so we inherently fear making the ‘wrong’ decision. It’s so easy to be consumed by the thought of choosing something and then being stuck in a place where you’re wondering if you had chosen differently if it might have been better.

It’s so easy to want the Lord to just tell you what the heck you should do.

But sometimes I wonder if we place too much weight on some decisions. That maybe these decisions don’t make or break the plans God has for us. That maybe He is still able to accomplish His will in us and through us even when we aren’t clear about the path we should be taking. Maybe it’s not so much about the path that we take as it is about the person we are and are becoming as we walk down that path.

Maybe so much of the time we focus on what we’re supposed to do that we forget what we’re supposed to be. Maybe we’re so caught up in figuring out what our calling is in terms of vocation and we lose sight of our calling to love, holiness, and proclaiming the goodness of God.

Maybe sometimes we get so frustrated and lost because we don’t know what step is right, while all along the Lord is asking something much more simple out of us. Something much more basic.

Maybe He’s saying, “I don’t care what school you go to, what job you take, what house you live in, what car you drive, what city you make your home… what I care about is deeper than that. I care about your heart. I care about you loving me. I care about your obedience to me. I care about you loving others. I care about you placing others above yourself. I care about your desire for others to know me and your boldness to live out of that no matter where you are. I care about you making my name famous. I care about you. I care about you, even when you mess up, even when you run away, even when you’re confused, even when you’ve given up. I’m still here. Through it all. Don’t forget me. I love you.“

How do we step out of the versions of ourselves that we feel others expect us to be and step more fully into the version of ourselves that God is calling us to be? 

How do we move away from feeling like it’s necessary to be found successful in the eyes of the world and find contentment in the fact that we are moving toward being what God desires of us?

Can we aspire to greatness no matter what we do?
Can we aspire to greatness in who we are?
Can we not let the seemingly ‘big-time’ decisions over our futures be things that plague us, but rather things that move us toward knowing what it means to follow Him more?

Maybe there aren’t always right or wrongs…
Maybe this one decision doesn’t have to bear so much weight.
Maybe it doesn’t matter.

Because maybe it isn’t about what I do…
And maybe it’s more about who I am… and who I am becoming.
And maybe what I do is part of that process…
But maybe it means that there’s more freedom in choosing than I sometimes feel.

I want to dwell in that freedom.
And trust that, no matter the what, the Lord is refining who I am and what I do is solely a reflection of Him in me.

I’ve engaged in some funny conversations lately about ‘The Friend Zone’.

• Talking to them about your current crush/romantic interest. This sends a very clear message that you are into someone else and therefore not considering them a romantic option. 
• Making statements like, ‘If we’re both 40 and still single, we should get married!’ This back-up plan sends the message that you think that they are cool enough to possibly consider marrying, but you’re not counting on/interested in/wanting anything currently. 
• Implying that you’re only capable of being best friends with the opposite gender over anything romantic. This may potentially reinforce the friend zone idea in their minds as they may consider you a safe person to befriend since you’re ‘used’ to the male-female friendship. 
• Referring to them constantly as friends, best friends, etc. Not the most damaging, but it can certainly insinuate that that’s all you think of them as… While lots of great relationships stem from friendships, if you tend to focus on and emphasize the fact that you’re friends, they may feel very much as though you’re putting them in the friend zone. 

But, I’m not really here to talk about how to successfully friend zone someone (at least not in this post). I mostly want to focus on the fact that sometimes I think we friend zone people out of our own fears and insecurities… and sometimes we aren’t even aware that we are doing it. 

Sometimes I hate taking risks.
But, sometimes it’s necessary.

Especially if you ever really hope to get anywhere in life. Especially if you ever hope to follow dreams. Especially if you ever think that the outcome might very well be work the risk.

It’s taken me a few months, but I’ve finally worked up the nerve. It’s a simple enough step, really… but it requires some level of self-promotion that I truly struggle with.

But, here goes nothing:
I’ve established a Facebook page for this blog, hoping that by enabling anyone to ‘like’ my page that more and more readers will begin this journey with me.

I’d love for you to help me out. If you know of people who may benefit from or enjoy reading this blog, please invite them to also ‘like’ the page. This way when I write, my posts won’t be limited solely to those who I am only ‘friends’ with on Facebook.

And now it’s your turn to go do a little something out of your comfort zone. To take another step toward a dream. To put yourself out there. To chase after something you want.

To take a risk.

Always Second Chances Facebook Page

Do you ever feel like you’re fighting with God in worship?

It’s perhaps ironic. And, perhaps I should clarify that when I talk about ‘worship’ in this post, I’m going to be specifically talking about the times when you’re singing songs to the Lord (because, let it be known that there are many, many times of worship that have nothing to do with singing).

So maybe you’re in church, or at camp, or a conference, or some other scenario where they ask you to rise for worship. You stand up reluctantly, partially because you were quite comfortable in your seat and partially because your heart doesn’t really feel ready to ‘worship’.

The music begins, and most times (depending on where you are) the words either pop up on a screen, or else you are fumbling through a hymnal trying to get to the song before they actually start singing any words.

It doesn’t really matter what the song is, because at this point you feel pretty disconnected. Maybe you’ve been struggling with something that you have yet to really sort through. Maybe you’re feeling angry toward the Lord about something. Maybe you just feel apathetic. Maybe you’re just tired of singing the same songs over and over again. Maybe you’re too distracted by the off-key worship leader, or the out-of-rhythm drummer. Maybe the lights are too bright, or it is too early, or you feel like everyone is staring at you. Maybe everything feels too contrived, too forced, and you’re too disengaged to offer anything that seems worthy of true worship.

Sometimes you sing along. Sometimes you even close your eyes, because you know that people who are really worshipping have to close their eyes when they do it. Sometimes you extend a hand because it’s not too crazy but it definitely gives the impression that you’re connected with God. Sometimes you just stand there and look around, silently judging other people. Sometimes you just feel numb. Sometimes the standing feels too overwhelming in the midst of your fatigue, so you collapse in your chair, put your face in your hands and try not to fall asleep. This way people might just think you’re praying.

If you’ve been going to church for very long, you’ve probably mastered the art of how to look spiritual without actually feeling very spiritual. Or maybe that’s just me. And honestly, some part of me has probably grown quite weary of attempting any facade and so now I’m content to just be exactly how I am during these times of worship.

It’s not that I don’t want to worship God…because I know that I am eternally thankful for I am a sinner who is saved by grace. But it’s just that sometimes I don’t want to worship God…because I’m still confused and have a limited understanding of things and I’m still a sinner, struggling to fully grasp what it means to be saved by grace.

It’s confusing, right?
Maybe you know what I’m talking about.
The predicament sometimes makes me feel like I’m arguing with the Lord, especially in the times where I’m denying Him praise. Arguing because I’m resistant to being open to the Spirit moving, arguing because I’m frustrated by something, arguing because I’m not in the mood, arguing because I’m too caught up in something else and I don’t want to switch gears, arguing because I feel uncomfortable or because I’m tired or bored.

But it usually seems that if I am willing to listen to the words (whether I’m singing them or not… because haven’t a lot of us become pros at singing songs without really listening to what we’re singing?) that God wins.

I’m reminded of what He has done for me, what He has saved me from, what hope I have in Him…and how very worthy He is of praise and adoration…and worship. Even when I don’t feel like it.

We probably feel guilty a lot for not feeling like we want to worship God. And we probably feel like we are the people who honor God with our lips, but whose hearts are far from Him. Sometimes that is me. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t.

But God is kind.
And He redeems.
And He saves.
Even when I am far from Him. Even when I am unfaithful. Even when I’m a hypocrite who focuses more on the gaping distance that I feel between myself and the Lord than I do on His persistence in pursuing me, loving me…and most importantly: the fact that Christ died for me.

I’d love for us to be honest during these times of worship.
And even beyond that? I’d love for us to be open during these times.
Honest, in the fact that we aren’t putting on some sort of mask or facade because we are so worried about what other people might think of us. Honest, in that we aren’t so busy trying to do what we think we are ‘supposed’ to do, that we miss out on the rawness of these moments. And open in the fact that we are willing to allow the Lord to transform our hearts of stone and replace them with tender, beating ones that exist only to worship Him with our entire beings.

I guess I think the more willing we are to direct our reasons for disengaging and disconnecting from these times of worship to the Lord, the more able He is to really change our hearts, our perspective, our selfish ambitions.

The next time you’re in this type of setting and you find yourself removed, judgmental, and arguing with the Lord? Be honest with Him about it.
And then be open for where He might take you, how He might move you, what He might ask of you. Listen to the words. Let them really register in your heart.

In the end, may we all recognize how at all times, in every season, no matter where we are at and what we are struggling with… that He is a God worthy of honor and praise. And may our hearts not be far from that.

I chopped my hair off a few years ago. And then I had an identity crisis.

Because when you have long hair and then suddenly you have short hair, your world changes. You meet people for the first time and know that their first impression of you is completely different than it might have been if they met you just the day before.

Any sophistication that I felt I may have had with my long hair was gone, and immediately I felt that I was supposed to be flirty and cute as I flung my new bob around.

Dramatic, right?
It was.
But I couldn’t deny the fact that I felt a bit panicky about this aspect of my identity changing.

It reminds me that I connect myself to a lot of things that don’t really matter. It’s not just my hair. For a while it was my job. It’s easy to get caught up in defining ourselves by the things we do or the image we portray. Maybe yours isn’t the length of your hair…. but maybe it’s something else?

And a lot of times I don’t think we even really know what these things are until they are gone. The absence of these things in our lives makes us realize how much we identified ourselves by them, it makes us realize how much we clung to them as part of who we are.

I didn’t realize how much I liked being a long-haired girl until I was suddenly a short-haired girl. I didn’t realize how much I identified myself as an employee at my camp until I was no longer to make phone calls and say, ‘Hi, this is Debbie with Camp Eagle…”. Or when wearing Chacos didn’t seem like appropriate attire for a job interview.

Sometimes the absence of these things send me reeling into the identity crisis.
If I’m not a student, what am I?
If I’m not a girlfriend, what am I?
If I’m not a counselor, what am I?
If I’m not a employee, what am I?
If I’m not an athlete, what am I?
If I’m not a musician, what am I?
If I’m not a sweatshirt-wearing, braid-adorning girl, what am I?

The list goes on.

I guess I want to be able to recognize that even when all that stuff is stripped away… that the core of who I am doesn’t change. Even when I graduate, or switch jobs, or break up with someone, or chop off all my hair, or dress differently, or lose my voice, or break a leg… that I’m not lost in the midst of that.

Because those things aren’t the things that define me.
There’s more.
There’s deeper.
There’s a claim on my life that’s never-changing.
A claim that reminds me that I’m chosen.

It’s reassuring to me. It reminds me that I don’t need to cling so desperately to the things that don’t ultimately define me. I don’t need to have an identity crisis when I lose them, or if circumstances change.

I hope it’s reassuring to you, too.

Maybe there still is one. 

“What do you want to make sure you do before you turn 30?”

It was one of those annoying questions you get asked on your birthday… and it was one of those annoying questions that remind you that thirty is only a year away (what.the.heck…).

I mulled over my answer, though…not wanting to be too flippant or sarcastic or apathetic-sounding about the next year of my life.

What do I really want to accomplish?
It almost felt like New Year’s Eve all over again… only different (probably because it was a question that only I was going to answer and I’m pretty narcissistic). My company allowed me to process verbally and as I mused through the different things that I thought might make the list, I was left with an obvious answer.

I want to do something that matters.
I want to know that my move up here was beneficial for someone other than me. I want to know that my move away from a ministry where I had the chance to impact thousands of lives every year was the right move. I realized that I want, no matter where I am, to impact other people’s lives in good ways… ways where they feel blessed, encouraged, challenged, loved, and inspired.

It was ironic, because not less than twenty-four hours earlier I had been throwing my own birthday pity party, moaning and groaning about the lack of ‘real’ relationships in my life and how tragically alone I truly was. I’m not going to lie… turning 29 was a pathetic milestone and I’m not very proud of how it all went down. It was one of those times I allowed myself to believe every possible lie because feeling sorry for myself was more plausible than making an effort to ask people to hang out with me when I wasn’t one hundred percent sure they would even want to. I didn’t want to risk it on my birthday. It already felt like a delicate enough situation.

But, a day later, as I really thought about what matters?
It had nothing to do with me…and had everything to do with something better. Something that I don’t even fully understand.

I’ve been really humbled lately.
Humbled by the Lord already revealing ways that He is using me up here. Humbled because I never feel worthy of the task, I never feel completely equipped.

But He provides.
And He uses even me.
Even me… a whiny, selfish, pity-party throwin’ chump.
I can’t get over it.
Because even on the days that I feel like the loneliest person I know (or the days where I feel like the ‘biggest sinner’ or the ‘worst Christian’ or the most bitter and cynical person on the planet…)… He’s somehow still able to use me.

And it’s humbling.
And it’s powerful.
And it’s not limited to just me.

I guess I just want you all to know that you never have to have it all together for the Lord to use you. You never have to have it all figured out. You get to be all messed up and selfish and the Lord’s going to use you for some reason and you won’t know why, but you’ll be incredibly humbled in the process. You’ll see the beauty in it because you’ll know that it was nothing you did…but you’ll have firsthand experienced the power of the Lord working in you and through you.

I’m not confident in a lot of things…. but I am confident of this.

Aspire to do things that matter, that have purpose, that have more to do with others than they do with you. As you seek out opportunities, I think you’ll be surprised by the way the Lord uses you in those moments. I think you’ll be surprised by the various gifts that you begin to realize you have as He draws on them in powerful, life-changing ways.

Maybe in the next year of our lives we’ll be able to say that we were a part of something bigger than ourselves. A part of something that mattered eternally. A part of something declaring Jesus’ saving grace and the power of His redemption in our lives.

And, I pray that as we seek things outside of ourselves, that we are simultaneously changed in the process. That maybe we start to look a little more like Him without being so consumed with the thousands of ways that we don’t look like Him right now… because of our willingness to exist for more than ourselves.

So before I’m 30?
Before I’m 30, I want to do things that matter.
Truly matter…for all of eternity, for the glory of the Father.

Here I am, Lord… 

(Below is a written dialogue between myself and blogger/friend, Bryn Clark…he’s a he, in case there’s any confusion. Check out his blog when you get a moment!) 

BRYN: 
You know the situation, surely you’ve been there before. You just started dating someone, one, maybe two months ago. It’s going well, they’re cute, funny, and don’t cheer for the Chicago Bears so no major red flags yet. Then you’re sitting at lunch with your best friend one day, and they ask you the inevitable question.

“So…have you two discussed the big “M” word yet?”

You pause because suddenly the discussion got awkward. “Mast-“

“*Marriage*.” They clarify.

“Oh.” Now it’s even more awkward. You hadn’t thought about marriage yet; heck, you were barely to the point of seeing past your next date. And yes, your significant other is nice and all, but…. marriage? Lifetime? Kids? Commitment? IN-LAWS!?

“Well I hadn’t really thought about it,” you say, “I guess I’m just dating casually.” Or maybe you didn’t say that, but something along those lines. This can draw varied reactions within the Christian circle. Contemporary meanings of the term “dating casually” usually equate to “sleeping around”. But that’s not what you mean at all. You’re just looking to get to know this person better and have a fun time doing so. Is there anything wrong with that?

In a situation like this, the first thing to address is whether or not the relationship is glorifying to God. Marriage relationships are designed to be a representation of Christ’s love for His church. Dating, on the other hand, is a fairly recent invention driven partially by the sexual revolution, feminist movement and a certain sense of egocentric thinking. The point of most dating relationships is me. What do I want in a person? What do I want in a relationship? I need to get out of this relationship because it’s not good for me. This person isn’t right for me…etc. For instance, if dating casually does relate to the fulfillment of a selfish desire and/or some sort of physical lucidity, then yes there is something unhealthy about that. But, if your form of dating casually involves two people getting to know each other on an intentional but not-entirely committed level, then it can most certainly glorify God. The necessity, as in any relationship, is not to ask “what’s in it for me?” Instead ask yourself: Are you dating this person “casually” because they make you feel good about yourself? Because you have fun with them? Because it’s nice to have someone to cuddle with during Finding Nemo? Or are you pursing this relationship as a way of giving more than you receive, are you seeing it as a growing opportunity and a chance to deepen a relationship with one of God’s children in a manner that elevates them and humbles you? These can help you identify your motives and, thus, the actual situation.

ME: 
Your thoughts on ‘casual dating’ are interesting. I don’t entirely disagree with them.. but perhaps we’re operating on two different definitions of the concept. When I think of ‘casual dating’ l still think, “What’s the point?” It’s seems non-committal and it seems like a place that you can be dating different people simultaneously….it seems like there’s absolutely no thoughts of a prospective future with that person. If you’re not interested in looking for something for the long haul, how beneficial can the relationship actually be? Bryn mentioned that honoring the Lord is a crucial aspect of relationships...and I wonder if that’s even possible when dating “casually”? Would it be perhaps be more honoring to the Lord to refrain from entering into a romantic relationship where the likelihood of breaking someone’s heart seems quite feasible? The more you spend time together, invest in each other, and come to really care for each other on an emotional level the more I think we are entering into a territory that is intended for marriage. 

“Unworthy” felt stamped across my heart.

Stamped in such away that it was all I could see, and all I was sure anyone else could see when they looked at me. I might as well have been wearing a scarlet ‘U’. The ink felt permanent, too.

The words were meant as both a reminder and a warning sign. A reminder for me, in case I ever started to forget it. A warning sign for others as they start to get close… a sign that encouraged them to proceed with caution: Watch out, this one is damaged…she’s not worth much…

Isn’t it interesting that out of a thousand nice and good things people can say about me, just one negative thing from the right person can still somehow weigh more?

The choir is harmonizing and singing my praises, but just one tenor is slightly off key… and it’s all that I hear. It’s all that I notice. None of the other correct notes matter, because this one hurts to hear.

Oftentimes you might be able to cast aside the one because they are just one in the bunch of many… but sometimes that one is the one that matters most. Their voice is the one you desperately yearn to hear encouragement from, support from, love from… so when it you only hear the echo of emptiness, the pain ensues.

The other voices don’t matter.
The other words feel meaningless.
Because they aren’t coming from the one that you need to hear them from.

Unworthy.
Damaged.
Not worth the effort.
Untrusting.
Controlling.
Selfish.

These are the words I hear.
Because they came from one whom I heard louder than anyone else. And even if they weren’t words that were actually verbalized, they were the words that flowed into the craters of silence when the one was unwilling to provide anything else.

And we wonder why we believe the lies?
We wonder why the wounds won’t heal?
We wonder why we live in these patterns that seem to perpetuate the same things over and over again?

Who is your ‘one‘?
Who are you listening to more than anyone else?
What are the things that you’re choosing to believe about yourself?
What are the words stamped across your heart?

And are they true?
Actually true?
Or have you just heard one voice louder than the rest for whatever reason? Have you given one voice more power than any other voice?

The ink isn’t permanent.
The words aren’t etched into our hearts.

Will we be people who choose to believe what the choir is singing, able to tune out the one who continually tries to sabotage our self-image and our identity?
Will we be people who choose to believe what the One is saying about who we are over what the one has said?

It isn’t easy.
It’s much easier to drown out all the other voices that try to remind us that we may not be the wretched monsters that we’ve truly begun to believe that we are. But maybe it’s time to stop settling for easy all the time, to stop settling into modes of self-pity and despair.

Think about it:
Whose voice defines you?