Category: Uncategorized

Someone left a mostly empty bottle of Coke on my desk. As I got closer, I noticed what it said, though. So, I decided to sit down a share a Coke with all of you (since whomever left it chose to remain anonymous–don’t worry, I didn’t drink it)… and because it’s time.

It’s been a while.

Last week, during a few hours off in the morning, I thought about blogging. I thought about it and then showering, drinking coffee, and journaling became more of a priority.

Because I’m tired.
Tired and selfish.
Did you know?

A year ago I had enlisted myself in my very own personal “Book-It” program, reading books in hammocks by the ocean, rewarding myself with pizza when I reached my goals. A year ago I was taking weekly outings to hike up in the mountains of New Hampshire. A year ago I was preparing to go on a trip to learn how to surf in Nicaragua.

And now, a year later, I’m working 15-hour days, answering questions I don’t actually know the answers to, and praying fervently that this place we’ve developed over the last nine months is actually doing something good (don’t worry, it is).

It’s kind of crazy how quickly one’s life can radically change.
And kind of crazy how, even in the midst of all the drastic differences, I can still be the same and have the same tendencies. Part of it’s my human condition and part of it is just me….skeptical and people-pleasing me.

If there’s one thing I continue to realize about myself in the last few weeks, it’s how I deeply desire for others to like me, understand me, understand why I do the things I do (there’s always a rational explanation, I assure you). I want them to enjoy the program I designed, to see the goodness in it. I want them to love the place that I call home, the ministry that I’ve devoted my life to. I want them to buy in, to partner with us, to join us, to believe that all the hard work, the long hours, the tedious tasks… that they’re worth it. I want them to see the million other factors that play into decisions and to believe in the Lord’s sovereignty despite our imperfections.

Because I’m imperfect.
We’re imperfect.
And sometimes I think it’s too easy to forget that.
It’s too easy to blame.
Too easy to expect people to read your mind.
Too easy to allow for expectations to define our assumptions for how all things ought to be.

But friends, things are good.
Really good.
I don’t ever want the long hours, the minute sacrifices, the dirty feet, the miscommunications to take away from what the Lord is doing in this place. I don’t ever want my desire to please people to come before pleasing the Lord. I don’t ever want my high expectations of others to interfere with also loving them well.

Because things are good.
The Lord is moving. He’s changing lives. He’s calling people back to Himself. And He’s continually asking us to pick up our cross and follow Him. He’s continually reminding us that Jesus came to serve, not be served….and He’s asking us to follow suit. He’s assuring us that while it may not be easy, convenient, or comfortable…. it’s entirely worth it. He is worth it. Advancing His kingdom, raising up disciples, dwelling in His presence. Worth it.

He asks us to zoom out of our limited perspective and consider the all the unknowns of the bigger picture. And He asks us to trust Him in the midst of the unknowns.

This summer had “unknown” stamped all over it.
But the Lord knew. He knows.
And He is good.

I need His grace daily… both in my life and as I interact with others.
Because I’m perfect.
We’re imperfect.

But His grace is sufficient.
He is the goal.

Sometimes we just have to stop, share a Coke (or a Dr. Pepper…), and remember.

Summer.
It’s almost here.

A year ago I was in the thick of finals, papers, presentations….and it felt pretty easy. My responsibilities consisted of making sure that I was well-prepared, studying enough, giving enough time to thoroughly research and then regurgitate all of my research. If I didn’t do well enough, it only really affected me. And then it was summer…a free summer!

It was a breath of fresh air after a decade of intense summers and lots of responsibility.

And then I stepped back into camping ministry.
And summer means something entirely different than it did a year ago.

Now I’m in the thick of hiring, planning, scheduling, creating, programming, communicating…and it feels pretty daunting. My responsibilities (and my success or failure of executing them) seem to only affect others. My co-workers, the staff we’re hiring, the programs we’re developing, the campers that are coming, the guests we’re serving. Everything is contingent upon something else… and sometimes it feels overwhelming. Terrifying, even.

I can’t do this.
My brain screams at me as a I try to fall asleep at night.
There’s still this, and that, and… oh, what will we do about that? Or this? Or….
It can go on for hours, if I let it.

Even outside the projects, the construction, the activities that are still yet to be built, the programming, the scheduling, the staffing… even outside of all of that feeling incomplete, my biggest burden lies in deeply longing for Truth to be presented clearly and accurately. That all things would point back to Jesus, to what He has done for us, to why that absolutely changes everything.

Sometimes I think that if we’re doing that, everything will be okay. More than okay, even.

It’s in that hope alone that I can put to rest my people-pleasing addiction.
Am I doing everything I can to please the Lord? Have I made that my goal–the thing I aim for?

Too often I get honed in, fixated on all there is to do….fixated on a fear of failure…fixated on disappointing others.

And then Jesus reminds me that it is in my weakness that He can be strong. He reminds me that His grace is sufficient. He reminds me that He is the goal. He reminds me of the bigger picture. He reminds me that I wasn’t made for this world. He reminds me to choose Him, to choose eternity every time.

When I decided to take this job last summer, I remember knowing that we could never be successful without the Lord paving the way, without Him guiding, without us trusting in Him constantly.

A new summer is upon us.
A summer of unknowns.
A summer of over 10,000 guests to serve.
A summer of Christ being made known.
This is happening.

And, I do believe, that as long as we are making it our goal to please Him in all things… everything else will be okay.

I can’t do it.
And I’m so thankful.

My fiance and I have started reading through some marriage books together.

Sometimes I want to gag, as they drone on and on about the same ‘ol stuff. Sometimes I think they’d be more beneficial for us to read a year after we’re married and are actually having the everyday complications that arise from living/doing life together. But, sometimes they say good things. Good things that are applicable outside of marriage, even.

One book reminded us that I can trust, no matter what my future husband might say or what his attitude might be, that he deeply loves me. Perhaps a situation or an action might suggest otherwise, but I have to choose that fact to be true. I have to remind myself that, even though he messes up, he loves me. He wants good for me. He wants good for us. He isn’t out to get me, to hurt me, to harm me–that isn’t the desire of his heart… and I’ve been thinking about that concept in a greater scope of our lives.

Sometimes when we are a part of organizations, or churches, or teams….we have leaders that aren’t perfect (okay, all the time they’re not perfect). But, sometimes we allow this to be a reason that we leave, quit, run, move on to something different. We forget about grace and we forget about grace in the midst of imperfection.

We hold them to impossibly high standards and when they don’t meet them (or exceed them), we peace out. We have no time for mistakes. Our hearts are too soft, our pasts are too jaded. We need people we can trust. People who are dependable. People who can do no wrong. People we can always rely on.

But, I’ve been wondering what might happen if we considered the heart of the leader. What if we considered the motivation? What if we asked ourselves: Are they really out to get us? Is the core of who they are malicious and evil…or did they just mess up? Did they miscommunicate? Are they juggling a lot of things right now? Do they even know how their actions might have affected us? And, if they did know, are they someone who is going to do something to try to change it?

Do we trust our leadership?
And even we trust them, can we allow them to be imperfect? Can we allow them to figure things out and for it to, sometimes, look messy in the process?

I remember church hunting up in the Boston area, checking out different ministries and seeing where I might fit in best. I remember being all too aware that I was picky, that I had high expectations, that I wanted my own version of perfection to exist somewhere, somehow. Worship had to be just right, the speaking had to be relevant and accurate, the people had to be kind and welcoming. I jumped in different friend’s cars on a weekly basis to try to find the church of my dreams, and found myself disappointed. I wound up often attending the church that my brother was an intern at and moving up in quickly. Not because I always loved the worship, or the teaching, or the community… but because my brother was in leadership and I trusted my brother’s heart. Even if he gave a sermon that I didn’t 100% agree with, it wasn’t a make it or break it deal…

Because we’re all seeking. We’re all figuring life out.
I believe that our Christian leaders are often given the impossible task of being perfect, of doing no wrong…. I believe it because I’ve done it to people (usually without realizing it) and I’ve also had it done to me. But we’re all people in need of grace.

I can promise you that I will mess up often.
I can promise you that I won’t always make you feel like I love you or care about you on a personal deep level. I can promise you that I will probably let you down. I will make poor decisions. I will mess up. It’s inevitable.

But could you maybe believe that my heart is for good? For Jesus? For making things better? That even in the times where I screw up and let you down and suck at communicating… that I do care? Could you choose to believe that people intend good, even when it comes across the wrong way?

I think when we’re able to take ourselves out of the need for perfection and remind ourselves that people are people, that we can follow our leaders more wholeheartedly. That we can see the vision, that we can trust the vision…because we believe, at the core, that they intend good. They may not always execute it perfectly and that’s where community and honesty is vital as we sharpen and refine each other, as we lean on each other for different gifting and strengths.

But, I pray that we wouldn’t be too quick to give up on our leaders because they’ve disappointed us. I pray we wouldn’t be too quick to gossip, to complain, to quit, to run. I pray that we’d be willing to look at the heart. To remember that no one is perfect, not even one. To ask yourselves if, at the core, you really think they intend evil, that they intend to hurt you, that they want to see you fail.

I think you might be surprised when you allow yourself to go there.
When you allow grace to invade.
When you allow yourself to admit the many ways they might be trying and seeking to do things better, to do things right, to tend to everyone’s different needs/hopes/expectations.

Do you trust their heart?
Do you trust that they intend good?

If you do, I generally think that’s a good reason to stick around, to keep following, to keep giving of yourself. Nothing is perfect. No one is perfect. But we’re moving forward, striving for better, placing our hope in the only One who is.

Can I fix it?

When I know that something I’m involved with isn’t perfect, I want to do whatever I can to make it better.

Can I fix you?

Whenever someone I know has something troubling going on, I want to do whatever I can to make them better.

Is there something I can do? Something I can say? Something that will make it better? Has there been a miscommunication? Have your feelings been hurt? Do you feel like you haven’t been heard? Do you feel like you don’t matter?

I want to assure you that you do.
And I want my assurance to mean enough that you believe it.
I want to have the words that soothe, the words that reassure, the words that are able to change perspectives and attitudes.

I want my actions to always be such that they are moving things and people toward repair and reconciliation. Actions that build up and do not tear down.

Unfortunately…
Unfortunately I suck at these things.
I can’t often fix it.
I can’t often fix you.

Too often I speak out of emotions, selfishness, fears, and insecurities. Too often I live out of my own worldview of what I think is “fair” and “right” without considering how that might be different from your own version of “fair” and “right”.

I’m so limited.
And I hate it.
Sometimes my limitations are agonizing, oftentimes they are debilitating. I can’t think about anything else….because something in my life feels broken. It feels off. It feels like it’s not how it should be.

The Truth, unfortunately, sometimes feels like mere platitudes… trite, meaningless statements in effort to quickly fix the tears and holes in our lives. But I wish we’d let it sink in and change us. I wish we’d let it change our hearts, our attitudes, our perspectives…

Because there’s more than this. Than this life that we’re living. Than the things that frustrate us, than the things that don’t seem fair. There’s often a bigger picture that we’ve forgotten about it… and we’ve allowed ourselves to be consumed by only what we see. It’s the stuff that makes all of this worth it…

Because, on this side of eternity, things are going to be broken. Nothing is going to be exactly the way it was intended to be. No one is going to be exactly the way they were created to be all of the time. We’ll have glimmers of it… we have hope for it. But, it’s not going to be completely 100% fixed… not yet. We’re not going to be 100% healed…not yet.

We’re limited.
But it doesn’t mean that we have to operate out of limitations. It doesn’t mean that they have to define us. I can’t always fix things, and I can’t always fix others…but I know that my hope is found in the One who can. The only one who gives us hope and reminds us that this life isn’t how it wasn’t intended to be. This life isn’t the fulfillment of the promises given to us. That no matter how limited we are, no matter how unfair, how wrong, how broken things are around us…there’s much to hope in.

Because this life isn’t it.
I want those words to sink in.
For us to live for more than what’s right in front of our faces. To remember that while our present circumstances may be less than ideal, that we have a greater purpose. To be people that will gladly walk through anything so that He may be more glorified. That we’d remember how much it’s not about us….and we’d be willing to know the extent of what it means to be a living sacrifice.

I want to fix it.
I want to fix you.
But I can’t.
I am limited.
I know the One who can.
And I know that there must be more than this.

I have to live accordingly.

I called my fiance last night and was insulted that he only gave me 14 minutes of his time.

14 whole minutes.

I should probably admit that I called him around 1:00 a.m. his time and he that answered from a dead sleep, asked about my evening, shared briefly about his day, told me he loved me, double-checked a few times to make sure I was okay…and finally said goodnight and hung up when he realized I wasn’t going to give him more than ‘I’m fine’.

I’m fine.
I insisted.
I’m fine, but actually, if I told you how I really felt, I’d be in tears…and it’s late, and I’m irrational, and it’s unfair for me to call you so late and expect you to have an hour long conversation with me… so, I’m fine.

He knows me well enough to know that I’ll eventually tell him what’s going on, and I did. A day later with apology ringing in my voice as I continued to try to swallow my irrationality…

Because aren’t we too often fine?

The truth is that I walked to work yesterday morning, suddenly very aware of my loneliness. So, later that night, after processing and dwelling, when I said I’m fine… I probably meant to say, I’m lonely. Only, that doesn’t sound as nice. That isn’t as conducive to a short conversation in the middle of the night when you’re just trying to touch base.

But I couldn’t hide the dissatisfaction in my tone.
I wasn’t fine.
And he knew it.

We use fine when we want to get others off our back. Sometimes we use fine when we really want others to pry and find out what’s really going on. Sometimes we use it because we can recognize that our reason for being upset/disappointed is irrational and so we’re really just trying to convince ourselves that we’re fine.

We hide behind fine.
We choose to run from others, to block them out… by insisting that we’re fine.

But sometimes we’re not.
And sometimes it’s okay.
And sometimes we need to let people in.
Sometimes we need to seek them out.
Sometimes we have to step out from behind fine and expose whatever it is that’s weighing on us.

Sometimes we’re fine because we’re too often telling others that we’re fine. So then they stop asking, stop caring, stop trying… and quickly our fine is hiding much more hurt as people slip out of our lives.

There’s wisdom in honesty, in letting others know us, in admitting when we’re not fine.

Would you choose to believe that when someone asks, they might want to know more about how you are than fine? Would you tell them? Would you stop hiding? Would you stop damaging relationships and running from the people who care about you the most because you keep insisting that you’re fine?

No more excuses.
It just isn’t worth it.
Because sometimes, we just aren’t fine.
And it’s o.k.a.y.

Describe your current relationship with the Lord…

It’s a question we often ask while we interview, and the other day I couldn’t help but wonder what I would say if someone asked me the same question.

Because… what are we looking for?
What’s sufficient?
What’s ‘good enough’?
One girl confessed that hers wasn’t perfect, almost shamefully. I had to refrain from judging and lashing out at her: Not perfect?! Why would we ever consider you to work for a Christian ministry if your relationship with the Lord isn’t perfect?!  (kidding…)

Then again, what’s perfect?
Can it ever be perfect?
Are we ever satisfied?
Can’t we always be people who pray more, love others better, read our Bibles more consistently?

I don’t want to be a person who ever breeds guilt in other believer’s lives as they pursue Jesus. I never want to be the person who shakes my head, tsking when people tell me that they’re struggling in one of these disciplines. I just imagine this nasal-y, condescending voice that quickly tells others to read more, pray more, do more. The voice that constantly makes us feel like where we’re at will never be good enough, no matter how far we’ve come.

But when I think about a relationship with the Lord, when I ask the question about where someone is at spiritually, I really just want to know that it matters to them. That they’re seeking. That they’re allowing Scripture to transform them (and that doesn’t necessarily mean that they’re reading it for 10 minutes on schedule each day). That the truth of the Gospel permeates them to the core and doesn’t allow them to be complacent. That they desire to be obedient to the Word, that they desire to be close to the Lord…and that they’re striving to live a life of hope, joy and love.

Because if someone asked me?
I pray sporadically throughout the day.
I sometimes journal.
I try to love others.
I sometimes read the Bible or other books.
I have conversations and talk about Jesus as I do work and as it comes up in various relationships.

So, do I pass?
Is my answer sufficient?
Am I doing “enough”?
Is my relationship with the Lord good enough, thriving enough, for your definition?
Should I be doing more…?

Maybe.
Maybe I should.
But I lived that way for a better portion of my life and instead of freedom, I often encountered the guilt and shame that too easily accompanies legalism.

And so, instead of adopting a lifestyle where I’m confined by rules, I’ve found so much joy in simple obedience. In seeking to know the Lord more… through Scripture, through His creation, through people, through prayer, through music, through writing.  It looks different each day, but it matters. Above all things.

I’m not looking for a specific routine or for you to convince me that because you read a devotional that you love the Lord…
I’m wanting to know that the Gospel has changed your life and is continuing to change your life. I’m wanting to know that each day you remember that we’ve been saved from eternal damnation and that we’ve been given to abundantly because of Christ. I want to know that you are seeking obedience, seeking a life of surrender, a life of sacrifice. I want to know that your heart belongs to the Lord and He is who you will serve for all the days of your life. I want to know that you bear fruit because you abide in Him.

A relationship with the Lord goes deeper than the lists we create to feel as though we’re accomplishing something. Because, at the end of the day, no matter how much you read your Bible… are you really allowing the truth of it to change your life? Are you letting it sink in? Are you different every day because of it?

I hope so.
No matter what we’re doing to pursue a relationship with Jesus…I hope, at the end of the day, that it changes us on a daily basis. That we’re brighter reflections of Him as we are refined and made into more of His image.

Because it matters.
Even if it’s never ‘perfect’, it matters.
More than any other relationship.
All I ask is that we treat it as such.

It doesn’t have to be so hard. 

I remember being in a past relationship and telling myself that, even though it was so hard, it was still okay. Because, relationships are hard… right? I was determined to push through, to make it work, to fight for our relationship because, at the end of the day, I thought it was worth it.

But it was hard.
I cried a lot.
I felt insecure.
I blamed him.
He never felt like he was good enough.
He blamed me.
Our conversations always turned back into a heated discussion about the same thing. Over and over again. It was repetitive, consuming, and exhausting.

I had convinced myself that relationships, by nature, are hard… and so this was okay. This was just what every other couple is dealing with and, because of that, I just had to keep going. I convinced myself that our relationship was all about sanctification… all about growing, becoming more like Jesus, putting someone else above myself. Being in a hard relationship made us better. It never occurred to me that it might be unhealthy, that it might be harder than was necessary.

I had reached a point where I felt like I would rather be in this hard relationship than alone for the rest of my life. I never thought any relationship could be easier than what I was currently experiencing. This is just what relationships are like.

I couldn’t bring myself to end that relationship because I was so committed to making it work. But, he was wiser and more bold than me. He ended it one summer night…. and I had never felt so free. Walking away from that relationship felt easy and light and right. I remember, a week later, thanking him for having the guts to do what I couldn’t do.

I’m scared that we, sometimes, stay in relationships that are too hard. That we’re willing to put up with much because we’ve convinced ourselves that sticking with it is better than letting go. I’m scared that we find ourselves in unhealthy relationships because we’re terrified of being alone. I’m scared that we walk forward into a life of constant fighting, bickering, disagreeing because we’re scared that no one better for us will ever come along. I fear that in our quest to be with someone, we find ourselves more lonely than ever before…

And I want to say:
It doesn’t have to be so hard.

Yes, there will be times when it’s hard. There might be seasons when you feel like you can’t do anything right or that every conversation turns into the same argument… but it shouldn’t be what’s defining of your entire relationship.

If you’re in a dating relationship and it’s just always hard? I’d seriously ask you to consider getting out. To ask wise, trusted people in your life their honest opinion of your relationship and then be willing to listen. You may not like what you hear, but it may be exactly what you need to hear. Sometimes, walking away from these relationships (no matter how much we wanted it work and believed that it might) can be the most freeing, healing thing for our souls. Stop trying to convince yourself and others, stop trying to rationalize.

If you’re married and you’re going through a hard season that feels eternal? Or maybe you went straight from a hard dating relationship into marriage? I’d encourage you to seek professional help. Get someone to help mediate, someone who is for marriage working out. I do believe it’s possible and that once you’ve entered into a marriage covenant that the Lord is always on the side of reconciliation. I do believe that when He is on that side, anything is possible, no matter how hopeless it feels. People can change, relationships can change.

Sometimes, while dating, I clung to that hope. That the Lord could and would change him and me. That it would work. But it wasn’t meant to be. We hadn’t entered into that covenant together, and I now see how the Lord had clearly orchestrated us breaking up. I had to let go. And it was good.

It doesn’t have to be so hard.
You don’t have to fight so hard all the time.
Yes, relationships are hard….but that shouldn’t be the most defining aspect of your relationship. Mutually encourage each other. Sharpen each other. Point each other back to Jesus in all things. But don’t destroy each other. Be couples who are life-giving, who can laugh together, who are more yourselves together than you are apart.

Be people who love.
I once told a man I loved him and quickly realized how I was doing the opposite of everything that defined love. I was rarely patient or kind, was constantly jealous, rude and prideful. I insisted on my own way, was irritable, and kept a tally of all the wrongs done to me by him. I didn’t know what love was in that capacity…. but oh, how I wanted to. And how quickly willing I was to cling to any shred of hope or goodness that might allow me to stay exactly where I was.

It doesn’t have to be so hard.

Do you believe me yet?
Are you listening?
Let go.
Walk away.
There’s something better than this.
There’s freedom from the agony, the pain, the misery.
There’s hope.

Have the guts.

A few months back, I overhead some speculation about what a “date” is.

an appointment to meet at a specified time; especially : a social engagement between two persons that often has a romantic character

So maybe it’s not explicitly stated, and maybe he didn’t “ask you out” in a way that made it obvious….but maybe he holds your hand and kisses you goodnight. It was probably a date. Maybe he didn’t feel the need to dive into a conversation about the future and how many kids you both want to have, but he’s interested in getting to know you better. Maybe that’s all it needs to be for now.

Sometimes, as women, we’re quick to want to define things. We’re quick to want to know what something is, what it means, and how it might change our lives. We want to know if what just happened was a date so we can let our hearts rest for a moment. We let ourselves get anxious, confused, and weigh every possible option for where things could go from here. Because if it was a date then that means so.many.things.

But sometimes, we just need to chill out.
Sometimes we need to let it be whatever it is. Sometimes we have to trust that while a guy may or may not have romantic intentions with your hang-outs and with the dinner he just bought you, he’ll eventually make it known. If it WAS a date, it shouldn’t be long before he expresses that interest in you (especially if he’s already taken the initiative to take you out or wants to keep hanging out frequently). If it WASN’T, then I think you’ll get the hint. And, if after some time it’s still unclear? Just ask. You may be dealing with a man who just loves spending time with you and thinks you’re on the same page of friendship. Get the clarification you need so you can live your life in peace.

If your “social engagement” is clearly of a romantic nature (you know he likes you because he told you directly or he’s very physically into you), it’s probably safe to assume it’s a date. If it’s not clear (maybe he tells you that you’re beautiful, buys you dinner, opens your doors, gives you a hug), it’s probably safe to not assume anything just yet. Give it a little bit of time…and if there’s nothing directly communicated to you, feel the freedom to ask. You don’t need to spend months or years of your life having your heart dragged along, always wondering. Chances are, if he hasn’t said anything after that long…he’s probably not interested in you romantically.

And, don’t be the girl who assumes that since he’s physically into you that it means he’s also emotionally into you. Because he kisses you every time you hang-out doesn’t mean it’s a date…especially if it’s been a while. At this point, he is probably just taking advantage of you. Don’t be quick to give any part of you away on these ‘maybe’ dates. Make sure you know his intentions and commitment levels before you go making decisions you’ll most likely regret.

“Dates” are fairly ambiguous these days.
I think that’s okay… at least initially. Give yourselves time to get to know each other without having to worry about all nitty-gritty details of what it means. And then, when it’s time, be willing to have open, honest, necessary conversation.

The Comment:

Is there a point of being too optimistic?

Yes?
No?
I don’t know.
I suppose it depends (isn’t that how it is with most things?).

I’m never really “too” optimistic. In fact, I’m not really optimistic at all.  I’d like to think that’s changing, though.

I guess I sometimes want to punch optimism in the face when it isn’t real. I’m all for hoping and dreaming and longing for things to be better, but when people are rooting for the unrealistic and allowing the optimism to drive them to crazy extremes… those are the times I think we can be “too” optimistic.

Since I typically write on relationships, I’ll use that as an example for what I’m talking about. When you like a guy and you’re super interested in him and really optimistic that this time (finally) it’s actually going to work out. He’s actually going to like you back. You’re sure of it. All the signs are there. He talks to you, smiles at you, sometimes he’ll even initiate conversation with you. Sometimes he ignores you… but you’re not choosing to think that means anything. He’s probably just playing hard to get. Sometimes he says mean things….but he’s usually being sarcastic (clearly…). This might be one of those times when I’d say: you’re being too optimistic. Or, as the movie/book put it: he’s just not that into you. Sometimes, when it comes to matters of the heart, we can definitely be “too” optimistic. And dumb.

I think the point of being “too” optimistic comes when we’re changing our lives completely based on unrealistic hopes. Maybe you decide to move to New York to become an actor when you couldn’t even get a part in the chorus in your high school musical when you tried over and over again and they were already short on guys. Maybe you spend all your free-time trying out for the football team constantly and get rejected time and time again (and, maybe, Rudy is your inspiration…).

With instances like these- when our talent doesn’t match up with our passions…sometimes I think we can tend to be “too” optimistic. Because sometimes we love doing things that we just aren’t that awesome at. And sometimes our passion drives us and we spend our lives trying to do something that we were never meant to do. And sometimes, I think, we need to halt and reevaluate.

We need to ask ourselves what we love doing, yes… but we also need to be willing to see if what we love doing is something that we’re good at doing. And if it’s not, is it something that we can get better at? Is it something worth spending all the time/money/effort on? Is it something that matters in the scope of eternity or is it just something that’s completely self-fulfilling? Is it something we’re doing just because we enjoy doing it, or are we trying to find purpose in it? There’s a difference.

I tend to think that the Lord has gifted each of us with things that we are good at and when we start to truly tap into those things, we’re going to figure out how much we love those things. It might not be something that we thought we’d like in the beginning, but as we excel, as we learn, as we grow… as we do things that matter outside of ourselves…they become things that we can’t imagine living without. They’re the things that make us think: I was made to do this. It’s a great feeling. Because we’re good at it and we love it.

I’m optimistic that everyone can have those things that are true for them. That they can be fully invested in things that they love and are good at…and that they will be things that matter in the scope of eternity. I think that’s why the Lord gives us those gifts and those passions- so that He might be glorified. Not us.

And, I do think that everyone can be optimistic about matters of the heart. Maybe it doesn’t have to be so specific (i.e. This guy is going to fall in love with me vs. I know someday that the Lord will fulfill this desire within me)….but, I think we can hope. That we can dream. That we can ask that the Lord would make us into more of His likeness and in the process we can trust that He’s refining our hopes, dreams and desires. We might start to notice that the things we thought we couldn’t live without (or even people) are now things that we barely think about.

Because we’re growing.
We’re changing.
And it’s good.
And sometimes, our optimism works out– things really do turn out the way we hoped they might. And sometimes we just cling to the hope we have in Jesus Christ when everything else seems to fall apart. And then we get to the point where we realize that He is enough.

And then our need for being optimistic shifts…
Because the Lord is faithful.
And instead of all the things that come and go that we find our identity and hope in…. we learn to place it in Him.

At that point, we can never be too optimistic.
Because He has come, He has conquered, and He will return.
We have much to hope in, much to hope for.
Only through Him.

I grew up with three older brothers.
While entirely complicated, they were still men. Life was fairly simple and understood.

And then they got married.

Suddenly family vacations were filled with girls. Girls who took longer than me to get ready, girls who wore dresses, girls who laid out on the beach and didn’t spend as much time as we did in the ocean body surfing or throwing the frisbee around. Girls who were needy of my brother’s attention…always.

I remember being filled with despair the moment I realized how different my family had become. Estrogen now outnumbered the testosterone in the family and I didn’t know how to handle the new imbalance. I think I probably even cried about it (which is ironic, I realize…).

Part of my despair came from feeling like I was really different than the new additions to my family and I was unsure of how to welcome them in and relate. I suddenly felt like the outsider and I hated feeling like that in the place where I thought I should most feel like an insider. Part of it just came from change and my inability to cope with new things.

This was my new family, and it would continue to change as children were added to the mix. This was my new reality and I either had to choose to accept them with a good attitude, or keep them at a distance.

As time marched on and as I began to know my new sisters-in-law more and more, I realized we shared more commonalities than I had first thought. It wasn’t long before I realized how much I appreciated their presence in our family and their ability to draw my brothers into conversations and our reality (instead of them getting lost in their favorite sport’s game, video game, or newest sci-fi book). These women knew how to capture my brothers’ attention in ways my parents and I never could… and it was good. They brought in a new perspective and they challenged my brothers to be willing to see my perspective in a way that my brothers would actually listen to. It was weird.

As time marched on, I realized that while my family was, in fact, different… it felt more whole. That these new additions brought something out of my brothers that was beautiful. They were being sharpened, changed, sanctified through their marriages and, as a result, the way they interacted with the family changed. For the better.

I got to spend the last week at my parent’s house with my fiance and as we all discussed wedding plans and the future, I saw the ways that my fiance’s presence in my life (and in my family) would do just what my sisters-in-law had done for my brothers. That, with him by my side, I was more balanced…more engaged…more willing to acknowledge things from a different perspective (and even admit that I’m *gasp* sometimes wrong).

And I guess I would hope that would be true of all of us as we exist in relationships or contemplate getting in them. That, with these people by our side, we would be more whole. That we would be better versions of ourselves. That we would be more present, more engaged, more aware of those around us. That we would be more willing to look outside of ourselves and see things from another perspective. That, with these people by our side, they would be people who actually add to our lives and not people that subtract. That others would see and know the positive influence that our significant others have on us.

It’s not always easy. And, sometimes, the positive effects on others in new relationships are harder for us to see when we’re so caught up in the changes (like I was with my brothers). But, hopefully we can be willing to step back and allow the newness, the additions to be good. Hopefully we can allow ourselves to see how the changes might be better, even if that means things are different. And hopefully we can be people in relationships who are always pushing the other toward better, toward Jesus, toward wholeness.

That we might truly be better people when we add others to our life, even at the cost of ourselves, our own desires and our pride. Because something good happens when we’re willing to really listen to others, place them above ourselves, and allow change to occur.