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Prayer is Hard

It’s hard for me to pray. 

Three failed attempts at writing this blog, and I’m still struggling to put words to my thoughts. 
I went through a period in college where I refused to pray out loud. Looking back, I’m not really sure why… but I remember being at a volunteer meeting for a high school ministry that I was involved in and one of the directors asked me to pray for our food and I flat out denied the request. It’s ridiculous and immature to think about…but, I think I understand the theory behind why I did what I did.
I didn’t feel authentic. 
I think, in praying out loud, I was aware that I was more concerned with how I sounded to other believers than I was concerned for what I was actually praying about. That in the circles where everyone goes around and gets the chance to pray, I was the person who spent majority of the time trying to think of what I was going to say instead of listening to what anyone else was actually praying. I wanted it to sound good. I wanted to have the best prayer. The type of prayer where people ‘mhmm’ and ‘amen!’ because what you’re praying resonates so deeply within them. 
Prayer had become a source of pride for me.
And so I needed to go into my room, close the door…and pray to my Father in secret.
But, even when I pray in secret…I still feel guilty for not praying enough, for not being as focused as I could, for not interceding for those I love and care about more regularly…and especially for not praying for those I don’t want to love at all. I sometimes feel like a failure at prayer…and I sometimes feel like it doesn’t matter. 
Not that prayer doesn’t matter…but that us caring so much about how much we pray doesn’t matter. Mostly I think that our guilt can deter us from actually praying. Instead of beating ourselves up and wallowing about how we need to pray more… maybe we should just shut up and pray more. 
Maybe that sounds like an aversion to a hard question. Maybe it is right now. 
I just think we are too easily caught up in everything we are doing wrong that we forget that even if it’s not perfect, that we’re still seeking Jesus. Maybe it’s okay for that to be a bit of a rugged process. 
It’s hard for me to imagine Jesus being too disappointed with my prayer life… because I’m not sure that my prayer life is always a reflection of how much I love Him. Jesus doesn’t say, “If you love me, I’ll know by the frequency in which you pray.” 
Prayer is important. It is. 
But.. instead of freaking out about how we don’t do it enough… let’s just do it. 
Even when it’s hard. 
And let’s not let who we are be defined by how much or how little we pray. 
I’m a rugged piece being refined in this process of learning daily what it means to follow Him. 
I’m okay with that right now.
I hope you are, too. 
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A Bridge

Today started off with a reminder of how small I am.

And it quickly moved into a day where I was reminded how incapable I am of relating to so many people. Sometimes, at the climax of my zeal, I think I can identify with every single person in the world on some level. Today I realized that it might be ridiculous to entertain such a thought.

If we were playing ‘Never Have I Ever’, I think I would lose…because I haven’t really experienced a lot of things that a lot of people have.

Let’s see…
Never Have I Ever…

  • been drunk
  • had sex
  • lost a loved one
  • been poor (like, truly poor)
  • been homeless
  • been severely injured
  • had severe health problems
  • been friendless
  • been abused
  • been raped
  • had an eating disorder
  • seriously considered suicide my only option
  • cut myself
  • done drugs
  • been abandoned by my family
  • questioned my sexuality 
  • gone without food
… there’s probably a lot of other things that could be added to the list, but those were the first ones that popped into my mind after 5 minutes of thinking about it. The point isn’t to sound like a ‘Goody-Goody’…although, as I re-read the list, I realized that’s how I might come across. The point is to admit that I rarely know what a lot of other people have gone through or dealt with on a firsthand basis. Sometimes the differences in our experiences make me feel as though no bridge could ever be built to close the gap. 
Because I don’t know. 
I don’t know what it’s like to struggle with addictions, or life-altering questions, or diseases, or hurts, or pains, or losses that are so deep that they feel defining…and maybe they actually are defining. 
I wonder how much these different experiences keep us from ever wanting to even try to bridge the gap, regardless of which side we are on. If I adopt a mentality of, ‘I’ll never understand…’ and they adopt a mentality of ‘She’ll never understand…’ then we end up more distant than ever. 
In a world where I can quickly point out my insignificance (i.e. the video above), I’d venture to say that we can still find meaning and purpose. I wonder what it might be like to bridge the gap…to find commonalties among us. Regardless of our past experiences, of our backgrounds, of our challenges and struggles… might there ever be a way for me to relate to you, and for you to relate to me? 
Perhaps my grandiose visions of finding ways for us all to identify on some level aren’t that idiotic after all. Perhaps there is a way. Perhaps it starts with a mentality of, ‘I may not fully understand, but that doesn’t mean I can’t try…’ or, ‘She may not fully understand, but that doesn’t mean I can’t talk to her or trust her…’. Perhaps it begins with a willingness to connect, to see things from a different perspective than before, to remain open-minded to people who may be different from you…whether they’ve experienced a lot or very little. Perhaps it moves us into a realm of no judgement. 
Maybe there’s purpose and meaning in that. 
And maybe, at the core of all of our differences, there might be something that unifies us all. That despite the degree of our struggles and pains, we all still have them. We’re all still broken. We’re all still searching for answers. We’re all still desperate for something more than this. 
It’s a place of commonality, a plane we all exist in. A place where even in my past travels overseas, where I literally have nothing in common with those that I’m with (including culture and language), I can feel more connected than ever. 
I don’t know if you can look past my naivety and inexperience. I don’t know if you can look past the fact that my life seems pretty blessed. I don’t know if you can see beyond the notion that I’m a goody-two-shoes (and if you’ve read my blog much, you probably can). I hope you can. I hope these things don’t keep us from finding commonalities, from finding deeper connections. 
I hope that although my experiences might be different from yours, that it doesn’t cause us to halt as we exchange stories, as we share dreams, as we move forward into the future. I hope we aren’t too quick throw each other to the curb because our worlds are too different…I hope we aren’t too quick to check out and give up. 
I hope we remember what we have in common.
I hope we remember the thing that we all need, the thing that we’re all desperate for.
For all have sinned and fallen short. 
I need Jesus.
I’m guessing you do, too.
Let us not forget how united we are in that, no matter how different we may appear on this side of life. And may everything else pale in comparison …
No matter how big the universe is, and no matter how small we might be (and often feel)…may we not forget what matters. And may we always try to bridge the gap. 
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Funeral Thoughts

‘Do you want to get married?’

It was one of the most significant memories in a cemetery that I can recall to this day. I still blush thinking about the freudian slip while attempting to ask my best guy friend (whom I also had a severe crush on at the time) if he wanted to be Buried or cremated. We were taking an afternoon stroll through a scenic cemetery in our college town on a crisp fall day. Neither of us knew a proposal was on order, and, in my humiliation, I quickly tried to recover… I’ve probably subconsciously avoided cemeteries ever since.

But, there are a lot of cemeteries in the northeast.
I went for a short run/long walk in one this afternoon. Creepy, sure… but beautiful, nonetheless. It’s a cemetery marked by age and history, not to mention the lakes, trees and rolling hills. Aside from the occasional mind rabbit trail where I imagine the thousands of corpses under the ground that I’m treading upon, I tend to think a lot when I’m in a cemetery. Today was no exception.

When I was younger, I used to think (hypothetically, of course) of the ways that I could fake my own death. Once ‘dead’, there would obviously be a funeral for me. My grand plan was to find a way to scout out my funeral and see who would actually show up, who would actually care if I died. Would people make an effort to come? Beyond the showing up, I wanted to know what people would say about me, I wanted to hear the eulogies (eugooglies?).  If I could be a fly on the wall of my funeral…an ant in a blade of grass at my burial…then I would know if I really mattered to people and who I really mattered to.

I imagine other people have had similar thoughts. This desperation in wanting to know that we matter, to know that we’re doing something right, that we’re making an impact on more people than ourselves. It’s a cry to be truly known, loved, cared about.

I was reminded in a sermon today of how risky it is to let people in.
I was also reminded of how worth it it is….and how much we we all, deep down, desire it. We were made for it.

It’s interesting, because sometimes I get concerned with the numbers. I think about my funeral with a small number of people in attendance and it makes me feel like I failed at life. But I wonder how much the opposite might be true. That in this pursuit to be known perhaps we make the mistake of getting caught up in how many people we know versus how many people we know. Facebook friendship vs. true friendship, perhaps?

I’ve realized that my life has become far more about trying to let a mass of people know I care about them and a lot less about letting people actually know me. I’m quick to dodge questions about myself and eager to ask you questions about your life and your own struggles and joys. It’s a one-sided relationship…one where I hope you feel known/loved by me, and one where I escape being known by you. And, as I get to know more people, my ability to truly care about them decreases as my time, energies, efforts are divided. Instead of being a truly good friend to a few, I feel like I’m a disaster of an acquaintance to many.

I’m honestly not sure what this means going forward.
I think there’s something to consider as we develop relationships with other people, as we seek to go beyond the surface. Instead of focusing so much on the number of people that we are Facebook friends with, what might it look like to consider the depth of those friendships. Do you have authentic relationships with others? Relationships where people encourage you, but also challenge your weaknesses and call you to something greater? Relationships where people know you, even the ‘not-so-hot’ you? Relationships where you know you are supported, cared about…and loved… no matter what?

I don’t think this unattainable.
I just think it’s scary. But it’s what we want… whether you’re ready to admit it or not.
I have a few of these friendships, and, to be honest, they sometimes tend to be the people that I run from the most…the people that I find most annoying at times because they ask the hard questions and expect more from me. I can’t hide from them, but yet I try. They are friendships that push me toward Christ in ways that others simply cannot. They are good. They are necessary.

I don’t think we need every relationship on earth to be like this. I think that’s an unrealistic expectation. But, we need some. Even Jesus only had a few close buds.

I hope we become people who care much more about quality than we do quantity. I hope we become people who are willing to go ‘there’ with a few people in life.

Think about it.

And if, by some chance, I do get to witness my funeral? I hope I’m just thankful for those deep friendships instead of disappointed by a lack of attendance. That my significance and worth wouldn’t come from fame or popularity…but from something much greater. Being truly known, loved and adopted by the Creator of the universe…and from that, may everything else flow.

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Next Steps

I’m sitting here, with a blank ‘Notification of Intent’ Form lying next to me.

To fill it out, attach $100 and send it in…? That is the question.

I’ve officially been offered a spot in the Master of Arts in Counseling Program at Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary (about 25 miles north of Boston) to begin after the new year. I’ve also been offered a spot in a house off-campus that’s a few steps away from a beach off Mackerel Cove.

Beautiful, right?
It’s the cool kind of beach (at least to me). The kind where it’s rarely too hot, the kind where you can wear jeans and a sweatshirt and it feels just right. A New England beach, with rocks and trees…the kind that entices you to eat seafood even when you don’t think you like seafood.

It’s a sweet opportunity. All of it is.
But, I’m scared to sign the paper. I’ve been scared to make this decision for a while, but up until I was actually accepted into the program, it wasn’t a decision I had to make.

I think this is one of those times that I don’t necessarily know what my next step should be and so it paralyzes me. It’s one of the times where I want God to audibly confirm my plans so I can feel assured in taking a risk. It’s probably one of those times where I just have to go forth confidently and faithfully, trusting that it’s okay to not always know.

It’s tricky because while becoming a licensed professional counselor/writing is a dream on some level, there are also many more dreams. How do you know which ones to let go of and which ones to press further into? Can I somehow do them all simultaneously? Perhaps I’ll try.

I think my biggest fear is pursuing something and missing out on something better. In fact, I think it’s a fear that haunts me in all other areas of life, not just with this. A fear of commitment. A fear of saying ‘let’s do this’ and having a different, better opportunity come along. It keeps me from committing to marriage, to a job, to Friday night plans…

But I can’t stay here forever….here in this land of limbo, living a transient life-style with no income or stability. Some part of me thinks if I could, I would…but some part of me is ready to dive into something new and different. Some part of me is ready for a new adventure, a new community, a new world of possibilities… even if the reality of what that means is actually somewhat terrifying.

And so I’m going for it.
I may not know what this next step will unveil for me, I may not know what other possibilities will come along… but right now, it doesn’t matter.

Good things are in store, of that I am sure.
I will walk blindly into this next phase in life…entering back into a realm of academia, trusting that I haven’t completely forgotten how to take tests, write papers and study. I will find a church, a part-time job, a close network of new friends in which to share life with.

But above all, I know this decision has eternal significance…that pursuing this dream is a part of something greater than just me. The end goal seems worth it.

So I guess you’ll find me on the east coast for the next few years.
No more running, no more indecisiveness, no more fear.

I hope you’ll continue to join me in this journey as I remain engaged in this online dialogue with you…no matter where I am and no matter where you are. And may we mutually encourage each other as we strive to live lives that are no longer about us, as we hope in the second chances possible through Jesus Christ, as we serve the Living God.

I hope, if you’re up against any sort of decision right now, that you’d be willing to take a plunge with me… even if you don’t know everything that it entails.
May we take risks, dream big… and trust Him to take care of us in every regard.

I’m signing my name to this form… I’m unwilling to miss out on this opportunity.
All in.

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Sweet Nothings?

Have you ever had someone whisper sweet nothings into your ear? 

I have. 
I went something like this: 
‘Sweet Nothings…‘ 

Yes, quite literally. 
I was a young gun at the time, wrapped up in the newly discovered world of college liberties and I suddenly found myself in a passionate embrace with a boy down the hall. Happy Gilmore flashed in the dark dorm room and I was enjoying, what I thought was, a casual night of making out. And then it happened.

‘Sweet Nothings.’ 
The whispered words felt like they echoed in the room. Did he really just literally whisper ‘sweet nothings’ into my ear? It was at this point in the make-out session that I realized that maybe this wasn’t so casual after all. Granted, I wasn’t exactly an expert…but I was quite sure that talking, let alone sweet nothings, ought to be non-existent in such an arrangement. Unsure of any sort of acceptable verbal response and fearful of the eruption of laughter I was trying to stifle, I immediately resumed the kissing. 

It became a complicated situation. In addition to the fact that I actually had a major crush on his roommate and not this guy, it turned out the ‘sweet nothings’ had stemmed from actual feelings. Crap. 

It wasn’t the first time that I had learned the lesson that all guys aren’t just all sex. I think I had fooled myself into believing that all men were capable of physical intimacy without any sort of emotional attachment…and so in the moments that I also felt capable of such a feat, I took advantage of it. It’s nothing I’m proud of, nothing that I would condone…but, it happened once or twice… 

I think, too often, us women can tend to make a lot of generalizations about the male population. This seems to be one of them. And while, sure, men can engage in sexual things without feeling an ounce of emotional/romantic connection… so can women. We should probably also be aware that there are a lot of men who are not capable of the sexual stuff without the emotional stuff, too. 

I actually think that women might be prone to take advantage of men in this arena. Maybe we just forget that guys have feelings, too. Maybe it’s easier for us to think that they only want one thing…because then we don’t have to be responsible for their feelings. It gives us room to do whatever we want, with whomever we want…and then to hate them for when they’re exactly who we expect them to be. 

All that to say… casual physical intimacy is very rarely ever just casual. Ladies, I hope you consider the fact that men do have feelings and can get hurt the next time you try to strike up a random make-out session or whatever other sexual need you think needs to be fulfilled. I hope you consider it when you’re flirting and sexting and putting yourself out there in ways that you’re probably ashamed of, convincing yourself that it’s not hurting anyone else. It just might be. 

Because even beyond the physical realm, I think we tend to allow men wanting us in any capacity to play on our emotions…to satisfy a deeper longing. 

If you’re not interested in a guy, don’t act like it. 
Don’t lead him on in the way that you talk to him, in the amount of time you spend with/talking to him, in the way that you touch him, or hug him, or look at him. Don’t use him to satisfy something within you that he was never meant to satisfy and will never ultimately satisfy. Don’t ever get in a position where he might whisper sweet nothings in your ear. 

Don’t prey upon men to get what you want because you think that they’re never going to get attached to you. And, if you already know they’re interested and you don’t back off… well, that’s a whole other issue. 

Bottom line: be women of integrity. 
You know the things you do that allow men that you don’t like to fulfill certain voids within you. Stop doing them. 

Deal? 

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To Speak…Or Not…?

The comment:

When your friend is dating someone you don’t like and you don’t agree with it, do you say something OR do you abide by this supposed code and keep your mouth shut because they are “happy”? 

Great question.
If I had a nickel for every time I got out a relationship and the immediate reaction from close friends and family was elation, I’d be…well, richer.

But, seriously… sometimes I feel like the whole world around me is holding their breath while I’m in a relationship, secretly hoping that this isn’t the guy I end up with. When it’s over, it’s as though they can breathe again and that often includes a barrage of reasons why he just wasn’t ‘right’ for me. Sometimes tears of relief are shed (by people who aren’t even my mom). I can’t help but think, ‘If you were that emotionally distraught by the thought of me being with him, why didn’t you just say something?!?’

I get it. I get why people don’t. When I asked my family and friends why they didn’t say anything when I was in these various relationships, I’m often met with some sort of answer like, ‘Just because I don’t like him doesn’t mean that you don’t… you clearly do, so I wasn’t going to let my dislike of him get in the way of that.’  That’s fair…if you just don’t like him but think that he’s good for me, I guess.

OR, there’s the common, ‘It’s not my business to say anything.’…or, ‘You’re going to be the one to have to live with him your whole life, and I’m not going to try to tell you that I know him better than you.’…or, ‘I trust your judgment.’

Okay… sure. But it’s a little infuriating when the vast majority of the people in your life suddenly come forward after a relationship is over to confess all their concerns and fears about you spending the rest of your life with someone. That certainly doesn’t help me after there’s no need to even decide on whether or not being in the relationship is a good idea. It’s been decided and your two cents after the fact just makes me pissed that you didn’t have the nerve to tell me while we were dating. Even if you’re just trying to make me feel better about the relationship being over… a heads-up while I was all in would have been nice, too.

And some people did say stuff, and I wasn’t willing to listen (can’t we all identify with that?)…but I certainly appreciated them being honest with me, even if I didn’t like it at the time. I’m not really angry about it (whether people did or didn’t say things)… I mostly think it’s intriguing to think about why we don’t always say something and when, or if, we ever should.

There’s a lot of people that get into relationships that I think are terrible ideas. I don’t always tell them. So, at what point do you address concerns that you have? Is it ever appropriate? Is it ever received well?

Honestly–I have a hard time believing that it is ever received well. I’m not sure that’s a good enough reason for us to not be honest with those closest to us, though. I think, in confronting things of such a sensitive nature, we should probably always expect that we most likely won’t be met with open arms. In fact, people may try to distance themselves from us, they may not want to talk to us anymore, they may think we’re out to get them. It’s why it’s risky for us to say anything…and it’s probably why most of us don’t. Plus, we don’t want to meddle.

I think making a decision to say something or not boils down to your relationship with the other person, your reason for it not being a good idea, and how you approach said confrontation. Here are some things to consider:

  • How close are you to this person? 
    • Do you have the kind of friendship/relationship that withstands disagreements/tension? 
    • Do they know that you love them, no matter what? That you have their best interest in mind? 
  • In saying something, do you have any alternative motivation for this relationship not working out (i.e. are you in love with your best friend and so any relationship he/she gets in is automatically a bad idea if it’s not you…) 
    • Does your dislike of the person have anything to do with you? (i.e. your best friend suddenly disappeared because they started dating someone and now you’re jealous, sad, lonely because you don’t get to see them anymore…you want your best friend back!) 
If you’re truly worried about your friend/family member, if you truly believe this relationship is a bad idea, if you’ve seen them going down a ‘bad’ path as a result of this relationship… if you have legitimate reasons that you’re concerned, I think you’re obligated to say something. But, I think if you say something, you have to be okay with the fact that they may not listen to you and you’ll have to choose to love them regardless. You’ll have to be okay with the fact that in such a confrontation they might react defensively or in anger and you cannot retaliate. 
I think my confrontations with relationships I’ve felt uncomfortable with/iffy about have often occurred in question form. Rather than attacking people, or making them feel like the person they care very deeply for is stupid or wrong for them… I tend to ask questions. I’d rather them come to that conclusion on their own than just listen to what I’m saying. 
I think when we ask questions (the right questions) that we also gain an awareness of where our loved ones are coming from. When we ask questions, we’re inviting them to dialogue with us, to open up to us, to tell us what they really think/feel vs. us just assuming that we already know. Perhaps they’re already aware of the ways this relationship is harmful and they just need someone to listen/talk with them instead of being talked at.

Either way… they’ll hear you. They may not listen or heed your advice…but I think if you’re going in with truly good intentions, that you’ll be okay. They’ll appreciate you for caring, and they’ll appreciate you for loving them even when/if they decide to keep pressing on. And, if they ever do breakup…? They’ll be so thankful you were a friend that was willing to speak up, even if it was hard. If they don’t? I think they’ll still appreciate you being willing to vocalize your concerns and not just let them forge ahead into something you had reservations about.

Be honest.
Be gentle.
Know when to speak and when to be silent (a.k.a. listening).
Know which issues are important enough to say something about…and make sure you’re driven by your love and concern for your friend.

And… if you’re on the receiving end of a friend/family member confronting you with some concerns about your relationship? Let them…and don’t hate them for it. Remember that they are saying it because they care about you, not because they are out to get you or resent you for your happiness…or whatever reason you invent in your head. Be thankful that you have people in your life that love you too much to stay silent. Be willing to examine their concerns and invite other wise counsel in to ask their advice on your relationship. Ultimately… be willing to trust the Lord is going to take care of you, no matter what.

Don’t be afraid of hard conversations- no matter which side you’re on.
You might know you need to say some things….you might know you need to hear some things.
So, what are you waiting for?

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Get Over Yourself

“Don’t you sometimes think, ‘Why wouldn’t everyone want to date me?‘”

It was a question I asked several of my co-workers a few years back, quite sure their response would be a resounding, ‘YES!’ I was a bit thrown off when the majority in the room looked at me, baffled that one could ever muster up such a prideful thought. Many commented on how they usually think the opposite, but only one or two others admitted to having the audacity to occasionally think that they thought of themselves as so cool that everyone would want some of that.

It’s kind of my life.
I feel like a living contradiction. While I try to express both sides, I’m positive that my negative self-image surfaces more than my prideful, boasting self. But, seriously…. I sometimes ask myself the aforementioned question. Don’t you?

Maybe not. Or, at least maybe not to that extreme.
I waffle back and forth between loving myself and hating myself, probably failing to find the middle ground of a well-balanced confidence. If I’m not bashing myself, I’m usually finding some reason to think I’m awesome.

Sometimes, unfortunately, these two extremes seem to exist simultaneously within. For example, I might convince myself that I’ll never get married, that no one will ever want me, etc…. while also thinking that I’m going to marry perfection in male, human form because he won’t be able to help loving me (because I’m that cool…). It’s a strange, strange place… this mind of mine.

These are usually the moments where I feel very different from other people. You know how when you talk to people for a while and you sort of realize that we’re all really similar when it comes down to it? This is a point where I don’t really feel like everyone else is the same as me. Maybe to a degree, but it never seems to be as extreme in others as it is with me. I had to take these personality tests recently and I as checked boxes that verified how important I think I am, I also was checking boxes that would assure the test evaluators of my extremely low opinion of myself. I can’t wait to see the results of those exams… if they can even figure them out.

I mostly think it all breaks down into pride and vanity though. It all breaks down into self-absorption on some level. I’m suddenly hit with the reality of realizing that I am consumed with me: whether that’s the awesome me or the pitiful me. My focus is on me alone. I’m either feeling sorry for myself, or feeling like I’m the most important thing to be birthed into the world… and I’ve failed to recognize that beyond the limits of my own skin, there are a lot of other people out there. There are a lot of other needs. A lot of other things that matter more than this…that matter more than me.

I think we, as humans, are desperately searching to find our own place in this world. We’re longing to know that we matter. Sometimes we’re already convinced that we do matter. But we get so caught up in this. Even as Christians we do–maybe more so. We have to know that we are loved. We have to know why Jesus loved us so much. We have to know and believe that we are worth it and we are beautiful and that we have what it takes….and sometimes I feel like we have to know these things before we can do anything else.

But what if that’s flawed?
What if our desperation to know these things have only catered to a pride and a vanity that perpetuates this thought that life is about us?

We are so deeply concerned with how we fit into God’s plan that it can limit us from living in it. We’re so caught up in our self-image that we’ve forgotten whose image we’re made in and what our purpose is. I get so caught up in pitying myself, or so caught up in admiring myself….that I lose sight of everything else.

I don’t know which side of the pendulum you fall on (self-loathing or self-admiration)…or maybe you’re like me and struggle with the extremes on both ends? Mostly I think we just need to remember that there might just be other things…and people…that matter more. That either extreme is taking too much time/energy/thought to focus on ourselves.

So, in the kindest way I can say this: Get over yourself.
You’re not that pitiful….you’re not that awesome. And, even if you are? It doesn’t matter. Go do something with your life that glorifies Jesus and involves loving others, without yourself getting in the way.

You may just discover a new confidence within yourself as you seek to love Him and others…one that is filled with humility and joy, one that is certain of who you are, one that doesn’t come crashing down with the thoughts of self-loathing or go floating away with the internal boastings.

Seriously.
Let’s do this.
Let’s get over ourselves and stop caring so much about who we are that we lose sight of Jesus, that we lose sight of how much more other stuff…other people…matter.

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Perversion

You know how we sometimes like to take a piece of Scripture and make it mean whatever we want it to mean? Sometimes we glean ‘truth’ from our own understanding…whether we want to admit it or not. Sometimes we look solely at one verse and apply it to our lives without any consideration of what the verse actually means within the context it’s been written in.

I’m guilty of it.
Just the other day I had to take a second look at Galatians 1:10.

Am I now trying to gain the approval of people or of God? Or am I trying to please people? If I were still trying to please people, I would not be a slave of Christ!

It’s one of those go-to verses for me, a reminder that we shouldn’t care what other people think because they are not our master. We shouldn’t be seeking their approval above God’s approval. Okay…sure. I think that this is an important thing to be mindful of, but I’ve also realized how much gets lost if we only limit this verse to this general context.

Back up a bit and read all of Galatians 1 up until this point.
It’s this intense passage about perverting the Gospel. Have we distorted the Gospel? Are we preaching a gospel that is contrary to The Gospel? This verse (v. 10) isn’t just about pleasing God over people…but it has everything to do with the distortion of the Gospel.

Are we trying to please people so much in the way that we present Jesus that we do it in such a way that is faulty and incorrect? Do we become more concerned with how other people will perceive Christ that we sugar-coat, that we hold back, that we deny who He really is?

…if any one is preaching to you a gospel contrary to what you received, let him be condemned to hell! (v. 9)

It’s clearly not to be taken lightly.
I wonder how often we distort the Gospel without even realizing it. I wonder how often we make the Gospel about something other than Jesus…or, rather, in addition to Jesus. That we don’t think Jesus is enough by Himself and so we have to come up with gimmicks, and experiences, and things that seem fun and alluring to people. We try to win their approval over the approval of God.

I know I’ve probably perverted the Gospel to make it more appealing to others. I don’t think it was always so intentional, but I know that that was the mindset: How do we make Jesus more appealing to others? Because I doubted that Jesus, by Himself, was enough. That He was enough to change lives, that He was enough to heal, that He was enough to bring hope to the hopeless.

I have to urge us all to get back to the Gospel. To get back to Jesus. To believe that He, by Himself, is enough. That He’s all we need. He, alone, is enough to offer to others…we don’t need anything else.

I suppose this post is two-fold.

  • I think it’s necessary to re-examine how we read Scripture. I didn’t have to go pull out commentaries or articles or find out what great theologians had to say about this passage… I simply had to read all of it. Consider that while you’re reading, while you’re listening, while you’re spending time with the Lord. Be willing to remain open- it may be the hundredth time you’ve read something, but it doesn’t mean there’s not truth to be gained. 
  • Be wary in how you present the Gospel. Even the slightest distortions can have huge ramifications. Believe that Jesus Christ is enough… it doesn’t have to be Jesus AND anything else. He doesn’t have to be packaged in a certain way to appeal to the masses. 
Maybe, at the core, our inability to let Jesus be enough unveils something deeper within us that needs to be addressed. 
Think about it. 
Think about how you read Scripture. 
Think about how you present Jesus. 
Let us not be perverters of the Gospel. 

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Crowded Rooms

Crowded rooms can be lonely.

It always feels like a bit of irony–that sometimes the loneliest moments are the times when you’re surrounded by the most people, eh? Instead of looking around and finding people that you can identify with and relate to, it’s almost as if you scan the room seeing only the things that make you different from everyone else. Instead of a longing to connect, you find yourself agonizing over the fact that you’re in a world of your own.

You watch them laugh and chit-chat with ease as you watch from the outside. You’ve never felt so alone. You try your hand at some small talk, but realize you were never meant for this kind of socializing. When it comes down to it, you don’t care about the weather or where this person is from or about school junk or job situations. You want more. You’re desperately searching to identify with someone on a deeper level and this is hardly the time and place in which to do it.

The loneliness sets in, buried below the smiles, nods and obligatory chuckles as you interact with others on the surface. It’s especially harder in Christian circles when matters of the heart are supposed to be the thing that take precedent over the superficial musings that lack eternal significance. So, instead of forging further into relationships with other believers, we find ourselves backing away. Maybe we’re not meant for this environment after all.

We return to our safe haven of literally being alone, and we find that we feel more comfortable, more at ease….and reassured to have made it there intact. Perhaps another day.

But instead of an openness, we find ourselves continually hardened and fully expecting the worst. We don’t even try the small talk anymore…but we have found ways to avoid it altogether. We’re disappointed with our reality and we don’t know how to change it. So we succumb. Maybe this is what it’s all about after all. Maybe we’re the ones who are wrong. If everyone else is satisfied maintaining this level of superficiality, maybe we’re the ones who are off. We suddenly find ourselves as a catalyst for perpetuating the shallow exchange among others… and it’s still lonely.

I’ve felt this way in the church and in Christian settings a lot. Lonely. Isolated. Different. Alien. That it’s somewhere I don’t belong. It’s especially evident during the dreaded ‘meet and greet’ time where I find myself shaking hands with those around me in the allotted five minute space–introducing myself, smiling broadly and asking people how they are and telling them how fine I am. I wonder how many times I’ve actually lied during that correspondence. It’s awkward and forced.

Perhaps the loneliness is due to a faulty expectation that Christians should immediately welcome me in with open arms and I should feel that as soon as I walk in the door. Perhaps it’s ideal, but I don’t know how realistic it is. Sometimes I also forget how resistant I am to even allow that to happen. Sometimes I forget that relationships take time and there’s no way I would immediately trust a stranger with my innermost heart issues and so why on earth would I expect them to do the same? Sometimes I forget that my own fears in inviting others to go deeper might very well be the same fears that keep them from doing the same. Sometimes I forget that maybe all the people in the room are not as different from me as they seem… perhaps they’re just better at playing the part than I am. Sometimes I forget that other people are people, too. That they’re sinners, that they’re broken, that they’re imperfect…and that they’re trying just hard as me to figure this all out.

I guess what I’m saying is that I realize a lot of my loneliness is stemmed from my own thoughts and fears. A lot of the loneliness in crowded rooms comes from me imposing those upon other people. I judge them, I immediately assume that I know what they are thinking and why they are thinking it. I alienate myself from them, assuring seclusion every time.

Consider it… the next time you’re feeling lonely in a crowded room.
Instead of focusing so much on ourselves and our own loneliness, I wonder what it might be like to consider that others probably feel the same way and to reach out instead of draw back. What if we initiated change? What if we initiated depth?

What if it wasn’t all about us and our own comfort…?

I guess I think the moment we stop looking at things so inwardly and seek to examine things rationally, that the voids might be filled with true laughter, joy, connection and fellowship. Instead of emptiness and solitude, we might find exactly what we’ve been hoping for. I think we’re foolish to assume that it comes easily and that it comes to us. I think, as with most things in life, that effort is required and necessary. We must walk boldly into crowded rooms. And we must not assume that the results will be instantaneous. We must be patient, we must persevere… and we must seek to know and love others before we concern ourselves with how loved and known we are.

It’s a shift in perspective.
It’s a necessary shift, if we hope to ever exist in a world of crowded rooms (or churches) without the loneliness consuming us.

Ask for boldness, for strength, for perseverance, for selflessness, for eyes to see those who are in need anytime you enter a setting where you feel uncomfortably surrounded by too many people. You’re not so different from all of them.

We all need Jesus.
Let’s not forget it.

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Opportunity Knocks

It sucks when they move on, doesn’t it?
Even if you don’t want them anymore…there’s still this pain that resurfaces when you realize that you’re no longer necessary, that you’re no longer part of the plan… that they no longer want you. It’s probably one of the hardest parts about breaking up. Admitting that there’s actually someone better out there for them than you.

The sting doesn’t ever seem to go away. Even though it’s been over a decade since some of my break-ups, there’s still the prick of a reminder that someone else was better suited for them. It fades, sure… but it’s still there.

It’s hard to not immediately go into my little pity party mode. It’s hard to look at things objectively and rationally and truly put others before myself. It’s hard to not think about the one million things that must be wrong with me that make me unable to maintain a relationship, or unable for someone to want to be with me for the long haul.

It’s actually funny how much I notice self-deprecation when it comes out in other people, but seem perfectly oblivious to it within myself. When others are hard on themselves or unable to see any sort of good that they have to offer, it’s so frustrating to me. How come they can’t see the good? How come they can’t believe in themselves? How come they have to be so consumed by the negative? I don’t get it. I’m not like that…

And then my eldest brother told me how I am like that. I am always putting myself down.
He’s right.
I do.
It’s this form of self-preservation, I think. Even the good things that happen to me, it can never happen because I’m actually good or talented or desirable–but there’s always a hidden motive, reason, excuse for why something good could actually happen to me. I’m too scared to ever hope for anything different.

I don’t believe in me.
And the break ups remind me that I wasn’t good enough. They’re proof that I cling to show the world I was right. The moving on allows me to believe that someone else will always be better than me. It perpetuates this spiral of thinking that I’ll always lose, I’ll always fail.

Self-fulfilling prophecy.

There’s an opportunity for things to be different. For me to be different. There’s that opportunity for you, too. The question always becomes about whether or not we want to change. It seems easier for me to mope and be sad and lonely, believing that I’m ultimately incapable of anything good or that people don’t genuinely care about me without any hidden motive. It’s much harder to go through life hoping and believing…when the risk of disappointment is so high. It’s much harder to keep going through life hoping and believing…even when there is disappointment and heartache.

I want to change.
Do you?
The self-loathing has to stop.  We can’t keep searching for every reason to feel sorry for ourselves, to think we’re failures, to feel like we’ll never get it right. From our ex’s moving on, to not getting a job, to getting a bad grade, to messing up a recipe… whatever big or small thing: these are not the things that define us.

My circumstances shouldn’t change who I am. My feelings shouldn’t change who I am.
I suppose it’s about time to start really believing that.
Let’s seize this opportunity for a second chance… another chance to be different, to believe in who we really are. And may that transform everything else…even when they move on.

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