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The Comment:

Are my expectations too high? Here lately The Lord has really been showing me what kind of man I am going to be with. ie: his character and such. I at times think it is almost unrealistic to expect a man to have all of these things, however I don’t want to put God inside of a box. I know a man of character is out there and I know that The Lord is preparing him.

I can’t specifically say if your expectations are too high, because I’m not sure exactly what they are. If they are simply that you might end up with a man with great character, I don’t think that’s too high or too much (but, in my experience, expectations are never that simple…).

There is, however, a difference between high expectations and unrealistic expectations. Oftentimes, I think the two get interchanged too easily and we find ourselves being women who are unwilling to even consider a guy because he looks different than we might have imagined (even though he has the best character of anyone we’ve ever met). Sometimes we are unwilling to see what’s right in front of our face because it isn’t packaged in the way we might have initially expected or wanted.

If you had told me a few years ago that I was going to marry a man with long, blonde hair who was five years younger than me with a large tattoo, I would have laughed. Yeah right… The long hair was one of those “dealbreakers” not to mention the age difference. And now? Now I couldn’t imagine any better for me… because he is a man of great character (and a million other wonderful things).

So maybe you’re not someone who focuses too much on the external and you’re still questioning if your expectations are too high. They might be. Because, here’s the thing… while you might have a man who has great character, it doesn’t mean that he’s perfect. I think it’s easy for us to confuse those things, too. It’s easy to think that because we’ve found a “good” guy that he can do no wrong (and then, imagine our frustration and surprise when he screws up…).

No matter how truly wonderful he is, for us to expect that he will do everything “right” is unrealistic. Not only have many of us experienced this in our lives and relationships, but Scripture is smattered with stories of men who had great character (even a man after God’s own heart) who can still fail, sin, hurt others, make bad decisions, live selfishly, be lazy…  you get the idea.

But, to me, that’s the beauty of it. Getting the chance to love someone when when they mess up, to walk with them through it all…to allow them to be fully themselves (sinful and all) and to choose them anyway. It’s where the picture of the Gospel comes in for me. Pushing them toward better, wanting more…but not establishing that in such a way where he might always feel like he’s a constant disappointment. It’s a fine line that’s absolutely rooted in love and grace.

There are good guys, yes.
But there are no perfect guys.
Make sure, as you set your standards on guys of good character…that you establish realistic expectations of what that looks like. Make sure that you’re aware that they’ll disappoint you sometimes, that they’ll make decisions without thinking about you, that they may even sin and blatantly turn from the Lord at various points in their life. Make sure you still allow them to be human. Because, part of what makes them such great guys is that they’re extending that same grace to you as you strive for more, fail, and then repeat.

It’s a funny dance… filled with humility and grace and a constant recognizing that the Lord’s grace is the only thing that covers each of us (no matter how great our character might be).

We still all need Jesus.
I’m still surprised every day by how the Lord is molding and growing and changing my fiance into more of His image and I, without a doubt, think he is a man of great character. But he’s not perfect and he never will be… and he most certainly didn’t come in the package that I expected. But I’m so glad it’s him.

Have high standards.
Have high hopes.
But, maybe lay the expectations to the side for how it’s all going to look (including WHEN it’s all going to happen).

Trust that the Lord’s got this.

A few weeks ago I wrote a blog admitting that I do have some hesitations about having sex for the first time.

It’s been interesting, since then, the types of comments, emails, messages I’ve gotten. A lot of women with similar stories, a lot of women comforted that they weren’t alone in their mindset, a lot of advice for how to move forward. Helpful tips, books to read, personal struggles. It’s cool. And weird.

If there’s one thing I can take away from all of it, it’s that sex matters. I can’t pretend that it doesn’t, and I can’t pretend that it’s not a vital component to a healthy marriage (or, often, a vital component to a struggling marriage). I can’t pretend that this isn’t going to have an impact on my life and our relationship…and how I view it, respond to it, and even initiate it matters.

One married friend of mine recently encouraged me to begin praying about it. To be praying that my fiance would be my standard of sexy…that everything about him would be the epitome of what I deem attractive. And so, as I began thinking about what this might look like, I realized that I not only needed to be praying about my heart in all of this…but that I wanted to be praying about this aspect of our relationship with my fiance.

So, I brought it up last night. It went like this:
“Hey, I think that we should be praying together about having sex.” Because this is the type of thing you just tag onto the end of a conversation when both of you are already exhausted (clearly…).
“I’m already there” he said, “I don’t know why you’re there, but I’m on the same page.”

Whew.
He asked me why I felt like that, and so I elaborated.
In my talking about sex with the rest of the world, in my recognizing that sex is such a crucial part of marriage… I was suddenly aware of how much I needed the Lord to be involved. I needed the Lord to prepare my heart, to prepare our hearts to become one. I needed to be at a place where I was recognizing sex as not just something we get to do once we are married, but something that is deeply intimate, deeply spiritual, and deeply mysterious. I wanted to be a place where I was able to go to the Lord with my fiance and admit my fears, my insecurities…to confess the ways my past has caused me to distort it at times…and to allow the Lord to be the one who radically changes me and heals me.

Because sex isn’t just sex.
It’s personal, intimate, vulnerable.
Other things are always attached to sex, whether we’re willing to admit it or not.

I guess I recognized that my own sins and imperfections can weigh a great deal and can easily have a negative affect on sex within marriage. My selfishness, my insecurity, my unforgiving heart, my spirit of entitlement…all of it has the ability to rob us of the joy that I believe the Lord intended a husband and wife to have. Not just in sex, but in all things.

I guess I recognized that if we’re willing to go to the Lord about everything else that seems challenging within marriage, why would we not also want to go to Him about this?

And so we will.
Because the Lord is faithful in aligning our hearts in desiring the same things, of letting the same things matter to us. And while my fiance already views sex as nothing less than what I described, his desire is to be vulnerable as we turn this physical intimacy over to the Lord together.

Sex is weird.
I never thought I’d be praying about it…and I most certainly never thought I’d be praying with someone else about it… but I know it’s good. I know it’s the only way that my mind, soul and body will be ready for such an intimate, vulnerable expression of love. It’s the only hope we have of ever having a healthy sex life and, ultimately, a healthy marriage.

We’re praying that the Lord would go before us, walk beside us, restore us and heal us, and that He would show us the fullness of what it means to become one way He intended us to.

Because sex matters.

Have you ever sat next to someone in church who was really bad at singing. Really bad and overwhelmingly loud?

Try as you may to focus, to worship, to tell yourself that all voices are a sweet aroma to Lord… all you can think about is how bad it is. You recognize within yourself the judgment, condemnation, and disgust….your inability to move past another’s lack of earthly talent to see the bigger picture. It’s disappointing.

It happens all the time though.
We have the tendency to allow the external to affect our hearts. Maybe it’s a bad worship team leading the congregation in music and all you can focus on is the tone-deaf harmonizer or the drummer with a lack of rhythm. Sometimes we allow the preacher’s monotone voice or incessant use of the word ‘um’ to dictate whether he had anything worth saying. Sometimes we let appearances sway our opinions of people–sometimes even out of our own insecurities (have you ever thought the super good-looking youth intern had no depth simply because you felt threatened by him or her)?

The even crazier part is that sometimes I think that Scripture is only applicable to me…and I forget that it’s also for the person next to me. Sometimes I think I’m the only one being refined and sanctified.

I got slapped in the face last night as I was reminded that He who began a good work in me will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ (Philippians 1:6)…and then I immediately realized that promise isn’t intended just for me.

He who began a work in you will also bring it to completion.
He who began a work in the bad singer next to me, the stuttering preacher, the un-rhythmic drummer, the good-looking intern, the un-talented (or “too” talented) sinners of the world… and He will also bring it to completion for all of them. What grace has been extended to me has also be extended to them, no matter how unbearable it seems.

In these moments, I’m reminded of my humanity. In these moments, I’m staring at myself wondering just how I ever thought I deserved any grace at all (because, sometimes, I still can convince myself that I do). In these moments, all I can do is fall flat on my face in my own depravity, fully aware of my need for a Savior.

Lord, save me from me.
Because, as much as a I try… I can’t seem to escape the thoughts about others that distract, that kill, that steal, that destroy. The thoughts that bring destruction to the heart because I’m so consumed by what I hear, see, feel, taste and smell. I’m so consumed with the temporary, with the external, with the things that don’t matter because I’ve stopped looking for the heart behind it. And, on the rare occasion that I try to do that, I usually only allow room for judgment and condemnation to cloud my vision.

Lord, forgive me…for I know not what I do.
His grace is sufficient.
Every time.
He picks me back up again and reminds me of His truth. I am being refined, sanctified….the good work in me will be brought to completion in Jesus Christ… as it will for many others. His promises extend past me, and I’m glad that they do.

I am humbled.
Each day, I am humbled.
Brought through the valley of darkness and reminded, yet again, that Jesus saves…that He is light. In His strength, I am made perfect…and so are others.

It is a sweet aroma to His ears.
He sees the heart.
He changes the heart.
It’s only He who can.

Might we invite Him to do so?

I got the chance last week to speak to a group of college women about rest. It reminded me that I (a) love speaking and (b) hate speaking. Who doesn’t love an indecisive woman…?

It was one of those nerve-wracking, sweaty armpit times where, as I go up to start talking, I can only beg that the Lord might use my imperfections to glorify Him. That, in all my lack of knowledge about things, He might still use it to point others toward Him.

The talk reminded me of things I was lacking in my life. In the midst of the busyness of camp-life, especially as summer approaches, have I been taking time to connect with Jesus? Or have I been finding my purpose in all the things I’m doing or have to do?  Do I take time to re-center, to re-focus…to remember who Jesus says that I am, to remember what He has done for me and to let that be enough?

Too easily we get swept up in all the ‘have-tos’ of this world and we forget the things that matter. We forget that if we’re not rooted in Jesus, the ‘have-tos’ have simply become distractions, they’ve become busy-work, they’ve become obligatory excuses that we allow ourselves to find purpose in. And then we wonder why we’re empty, why we’re exhausted, why we’re still so unfulfilled…

What is your list of ‘have-tos’ consist of right now?
Schoolwork? Reading? Ministry? Relationships? Jobs? Taking care of family? Religion?

What are the things that make you tired?
It’s one of the questions I asked the women the other day: what are you tired of?
And I gave them an opportunity to write it all out. Try it.

I’ve realized that when I’m doing things (even good things) and have lost sight of the Gospel, then something is wrong. The good things wear on me. The good things are exhausting. When I take my eyes off the bigger picture, even the ministry I’m involved with becomes a task that I sometimes I don’t want to do. Because I grow weary…

Suddenly my list of things I’m tired of grows and grows and grows and there’s nothing I’m not tired of. Because I’ve forgotten Jesus. I haven’t let Him be enough. I can’t take time to pause, to cease…to be starkly honest before the Lord and allow Him to remind me that He is enough.

Instead, my life is consumed by ‘have-tos’ instead of ‘get-tos’.
Instead of getting to hang out with people I truly care about, I suddenly feel like I have to. Instead of getting to plan and dream about starting up a program, I have to. The joy is stripped from it and the weariness sets in.

But what if I stop.
What if I cease.
What if I take just a moment to remember what the Lord has done. What if I take a minute to pause and come to Jesus. And what if I let that look like whatever it needs to look like in that moment (a hike, a prayer, reading Scripture, writing, going for a drive, falling flat on my face and letting Him pick me back up again, etc., etc.)…?

When is the last time that you stopped?
When is the last time that you remembered? Truly remembered all the Lord has done for you?

I sometimes think that if we’d regularly exist in this mindset, the ‘have-tos’ would quickly transform into ‘get-tos’. If we were constantly reminded of the grace that’s been given us, of how we’ve been saved from something we deserved (hell)….that it might not only change the way we approach our daily responsibilities, but it might radically transform our relationships with others and the way we long to share the goodness of the Lord in everything we do. 

I don’t think our lives here are intended to be lived in exhaustion. In fact, I’m quite sure that Jesus came so that we might have life and have it to the full. To me, that doesn’t mean walking around half-dead all the time. I want to live my life as a celebration– to approach my job, my friendships, my relationships, my responsibilities with joy.

I want to stop asking if I have to and simply relish the fact that I get to.

I get to live…for something abundantly greater than me.

Real rest is a real thing.
Learn it… let Him teach you.
Go to Jesus.

I’m not marrying a perfect man, but he sure does a lot of things right.

After most interactions and conversations with him, my head is swirling…often wondering why he’s chosen me and recognizing that his impact among men will be great. In fact, I think he should be the one writing a blog about how to handle irrational, ‘crazy’ girls in the most loving, gentle way. In a way that warrants the upmost respect from me in return.

I told him last night that I want everyone to have what we have. I don’t want anyone to settle for less than how good this is. And, honestly, I think 99.9% of why it’s so incredible stems from him (and ultimately the Lord).

As much as I believe that he’s one-of-a-kind and there’s no one else in the world like him, I know that there are men who have the same sort of integrity and character. Men that are good. Men that are worth waiting for.

Here are some of the things he does:

• Listens. No matter how tired he is, no matter what he’s got going on, no matter how ridiculous I am… he listens. He wants to know about my day, he wants to know the thoughts that have crossed my mind, he wants to know even the most irrational of things so that he can better gauge where I’m at in the moment and how to meet me there. 
• Supports. In a short amount of time, he has become my number one advocate…encouraging me to pursue my dreams and making sure that our future plans always incorporate the things that I am also most passionate about. He believes in me. 
• Affirms. He reminds me daily that he loves me…multiple times a day. He tells me I’m beautiful, he never withholds his excitement about sharing the rest of his life with me. His compliments extend to my character as he values the way that I inspire him and encourage him on a daily basis. 
• Asks for honesty and is honest in return. No matter the subject at hand, I know he wants this from me. He wants to know what I truly think, how I truly feel…and he offers up the same. 
• He is slow to become angry. He longs to understand in the midst of conflict, before immediately jumping to his defense or becoming an attacking offense. He will never leave a conversation until we have worked through it, longing to love me better through the miscommunication or the differing points of view…never allowing me to run from him so that I can wallow and throw my own pity party. 
• Sacrifices. As much as he loves me, he loves the Lord abundantly more. He works hard, serves well, goes out of his way to interact with those in need. It’s not about him, and his life reflects that. 
• Receives critique. He welcomes in ways to grow, ways to get better, ways to be more like Jesus. He’ll acknowledge that he is imperfect and how wonderfully blessed he is by the Lord’s grace in his life, but he is constantly striving to follow Christ no matter the cost. He is willing to change. 

Once upon a time, I considered myself “boy crazy”.
It was diagnosed when someone grabbed my leg, slightly above my knee, and I couldn’t handle the tickling sensation. It was how you knew that someone was boy crazy or girl crazy, right? Did anyone else ever do that…?

But, in reality… I was just boy crazy and all the people in my inner circle knew it. I was that girl. I started reading through my journal from my freshman year of college the other night and I cringed as I skimmed through the pages. What a pathetic mess I was…. and then I wondered if, in another ten years, I might say the same thing about myself now. I hope not….

Let me expand upon this particular season in my life, though:
My freshman year of college, I was friends with a boy that I was in.major.like.with. We talked allllll the time over Instant Messenger (isn’t that the sign of true friendship?) and occasionally would meet up for intense walk and talks around campus. Our friendship was honest, raw, deep, centered on Jesus. He challenged me in ways that few guys had. Naturally, I was entranced.

I remember just waiting for the sound of my instant messenger’s door to creak open, eager for him to have signed on. I remember waiting for that ding to sound, certain that if he ever initiated conversation with me it meant he was probably interested in me beyond friendship. I played a lot of games in my head…. I’d wait for him to talk to me (clearly playing hard-to-get) and when I couldn’t handle it, I’d find some rational reason to make contact with him. Sometimes I wouldn’t even wait and I’d just jump right into conversation. We communicated on almost a daily basis and my heart was growing more attached at the prospect of this young man’s affections.

I went home for Christmas break and confided in my oldest brother and his best friend in our hot tub one night. I explained the situation and they immediately told me to stop initiating. They told me if he were interested, he’d do something about it.

Their words were true…and I think, at the time, I knew it…but I also knew, somewhere in me, that if I stopped initiating I would know the truth. That I wouldn’t be able to lie to myself any longer. I’d have to face the reality that my friendship with this guy was just that: a friendship. That the moment I stopped initiating, I’d have to recognize that our friendship thrived mostly on my desperate attempts to keep him in my life, to have deep conversation, to feel like I mattered to him in a capacity more than I did.

I knew it. And I didn’t want to have that reality check.
It wasn’t the first time in my life that it had happened… and it certainly wasn’t the last.
Holding on, refusing to let go, refusing to give up, refusing to believe that he probably wasn’t interested in me. In this case, I held onto the idea for almost two years. Two years of initiating, waiting, hoping, wishing, dreaming… two years of holding onto something that would never be, because I was too scared to face the reality check. Too scared to admit that it wasn’t going to happen. Too scared to think about having no prospects.

I hated reading that in my journal. I hated having to remember that I was that girl. The girl who was too unwilling to admit that a guy just might not be interested in her that she threw herself at him emotionally and spiritually. The girl who cried for help to get him to notice her. The girl who just tried too hard to make something happen that was never meant to happen. The girl who lived her life out of fear, the girl who lived her life as though being in a relationship was all that mattered.

I told my roommate the other night how I wish I could clearly communicate that life doesn’t have to be (and shouldn’t be) centered around finding romantic love. I wish that I could convey how small of a piece that it is. I wish I could tell you, through my experiences, how trying to make it happen doesn’t make it happen.

I wish I could convince you to let go.
To admit that he’s not interested in you like that (and it’s okay and better that he’s not… you’ll see).
To stop initiating.
To stop wasting your time.
To stop centering your life on men.
To stop being boy crazy.
And to seize all that the rest of life has to offer. To go on adventures. To take risks. To live outside of the ‘what-ifs’ and the desperate attempts we tend to make in our loneliness.

There is more.

Here’s your reality check.
I hope you make a wiser decision than I…

“What are the redeeming qualities of the person you most dislike?”

It’s a question that the game Table Topics poses to its participants. One of those questions that you don’t really want to answer because it makes you have to acknowledge a few things about yourself. These things may or may not include the following:

1. You actually dislike people (no matter how hard to try to convince yourself that you love all people well). 
2. You might have to weed through all the things you truly dislike about a person before ever figuring out what might be “redeeming”….and, you may still come up short (only perpetuating the awful feeling of admitting that you’re not as saintly as you might hope). 
3. Your reasons for disliking someone may not be that valid after all and as you quickly recognize all the redeemable qualities, you realize how shallow you just might be. 

“So, you have a partner, right?”

I panicked a little…because, yes, I think that I do…but not necessarily in the context she was referring to.

“Well, no. I’m engaged, but we’re not sexually active.”
“Oh. But you’ve had partners before this, right?”
“No…I haven’t ever had sex.”
“Oh…?” She looked up from her notes a bit alarmed by my answer, almost in disbelief.

This, my friends, is how a gynecologist appointment starts when you’re a 29-year-old virgin.

For as long as I can remember, sex has been this thing I couldn’t wait to partake in….I’d giggle about it with friends, push the limits with past boyfriends, talk about it, think about it… it was something I was sure I would never get enough of. I’d be that wife who wanted to have sex more than her husband. It was going to be awesome.

But now, as talk of honeymoons, birth control, UTIs, and lingerie surface… I find myself asking: what do I really think about sex? Before it’s always been this thing to talk about, but never anything that was a possibility. Having sex before I was married was never a thought that crossed my mind as something I would or could do…but now that I’m getting married, sex is something that I can and will do.

If you’ve read my blog at all, you’ll know that I’m a huge advocate of acknowledging the fact that we are sexual beings with sexual desires and to deny that or ignore that can be incredibly detrimental to how we function and how we think about things. But, I’m also a huge advocate of abstinence until marriage and I’ll stand by that stance until the day that I die.

I grew up with the mentality that sex was wrong outside of marriage. I grew up not talking about it very much, except in situations where I knew I could get in trouble if I were caught. It was covered by guilt, shame, secrets. If movies I saw at a friend’s were too sexually explicit, there was no chance I’d ever tell my parents about it. If someone passed around the health books (you know, the ones that informed us about sex and puberty and all the joys that come with our body changing) on the bus and told me things the books never would… I kept those new facts to myself. Because… sex was bad.

Don’t have sex.
Don’t have sex.
Don’t have sex.
Okay, okay. I get it. It’s been hammered into my brain for decades now.
And so now, when I think about having sex, I’m not 100% sure I can erase the embossed “Don’t” that’s always been attached to sex….at least when it comes to me actually doing it. I don’t know how, in one night with one ceremony, that I’ll (a) even feel like I’m actually married and then (b) let that brand new status sink in enough for me to move away from the NO SEX rule that I’ve abided by for so long.

How do you immediately take something that you’ve associated with sin, guilt, shame for your entire life and then suddenly absorb the fact that it’s now okay and good. Because, it is. And I’m still excited about it…

But when I take a look at what I really think about it? I recognize that it’s not going to be as simple as just “doing it”. There’s stuff to talk through, to sort through. There’s something important to being willing to take the time to search out how I feel about sex and why I feel that way. There are hesitations and concerns that I have and I want and need to be willing to openly have those conversations with my fiance, even if they feel humiliating.

I’ve waited to have sex.
I’ve waited, knowing the intimacy that occurs and only wanting to share that with one person for my entire life. I’ve waited, knowing that it was something I needed to do out of obedience. I’ve waited, because that’s what I was taught to do.

I’m so so glad that I have. I can’t yet tell you how awesome that it is or how I truly can’t get enough of it… but I do know that I want to know the fullness of how sex was intended to be. And I do know that, while I’ve never had sex, there’s still baggage to sort through before I can know that fullness. And while I’d much rather be on this end of the spectrum than the other end, it isn’t this thing I want to take lightly.

Sex is a big deal.
My fiance told me last night that sex has always been presented to him as a good thing. A good thing that he was encouraged to wait for.

I don’t know much about the best way to inform youth about sex in a healthy, positive way that encourages abstinence without hammering in such a negative, guilty view of it….but maybe he’s onto something. A mindset of waiting for this really incredible thing without the secrets, the guilt, the shame that’s too easily attached to the “Don’t Have Sex” mentality. Just waiting. Patiently waiting for the good when it’s the right time.

If there’s one thing I’ve been learning in life lately?
Waiting is always worth it.
The Lord is faithful and good, even if it feels like a slow (and painful) process on our end.

Keep waiting, friends.
And if you haven’t waited…. start.  It’s not too late.

I wish there was an ‘Off Button’.
An Off Button that quickly turns my crazy, irrational thoughts into sane, rational ones. An Off Button that quiets the lies, the insecurities, the fears, the worries…

But there isn’t one.
And sometimes I feel trapped between my own version of reality and the actual version of reality (unfortunately, they don’t always line up).

I had an epiphany this last week about myself and the way I project things upon others. Ready for it?

Here’s what I do:
If I recognize something in myself that isn’t good, right, edifying, desirable…. if I recognize the darkness within me as something that’s driving me or motivating me, I quickly let that become all I see. I cover myself with this blanket of darkness and let that be the filter I view everything else through. It also becomes the lens in which I perceive everyone else to be viewing me through. Here’s the visual—>

I convince myself that if all I see is this grossness, how could anyone else see anything different? Surely all they can see is the blanket that’s covering me, too…? And if that’s all they see, why would anyone ever want to stick around?

Eventually I start to distance myself from others, I start testing them, I start trying to gauge how soon that they’ll abandon me. And, more often than not, I’ll convince myself that it’s soon and so I decide I’ll make the first move. I’ll get out before they have to ask me to leave. I’ll get out before they decide for themselves that’s what they need to do. I want to make it easy for them…

So, before I’ve ever even had an actual conversation with another person about all of this, this dialogue within myself has already taken place. Decisions have been made. I’m swallowed by the blanket and I’m convinced that no one wants a blanketed person in their life. Not when the blanket represents ______ (fill in the blank..it’s most likely different every time).

Oftentimes the blanket represents my insecurities. My inability to trust. My selfishness. My tendencies to be so easily unsatisfied. My high expectations. And when those things are triggered, I begin to despise them within me. I begin to let them be what defines me…and so I beat myself up over it. The initial lie takes root and suddenly all I am is someone who will never get over the past. Someone who will never be fully confident in who the Lord says I am. Someone who will never be selfless. Someone who will never let what other people do be good enough. 

My life turns into absolutes.
The blanket defines me.
I am insecure. Broken. Untrusting. Selfish. Unsatisfied.
How could anyone ever want that?

But people do. The Lord does.
They don’t only see the blanket that I’m convinced I’m under. They see more of me than I’m willing to see myself. They see good things. They see the bad things. But they’re willing to keep choosing me, to keep loving me…because those aren’t the things that define me.

The blanket doesn’t define me.
Not really.
Only in my perceived reality of how things are… which is often very different from actual reality.

I need an ‘Off Button’.
An Off Button that reminds me that who I am is far different from who I think that I am sometimes. I’m praying that the gentle truths found in Scripture would be what define me. The whispers of a Savior to rebuke the lies. The light to penetrate through the dark.

But there isn’t an Off Button.

Because I am a sinner, yes…but I am saved.
There isn’t a need to run, to hide, to let the darkness define us any longer… there isn’t a reason to push away the good in our lives because we’re preemptively trying to protect ourselves from all the worst-case scenarios we dream up.

I am redeemed.
And I’m begging that my identity would be rooted in who Jesus says I am instead of whatever image I choose to adopt of myself, instead of whatever I choose to project onto others.

I know it’s better there.
And so I’m fighting for and praying that I might exist in a land where my actual reality also defines my perceived reality.

In all of my imperfections, I’m mostly overwhelmingly thankful for the patient ones who love me when when I fight, run, hide and project lies upon them regarding how they view me.

I am humbled.
Blessed.
Loved.

Just as I am…
and as I move toward better (and as I, often, take a step back).

What a life…

This may be the first year in my life that I actually don’t care about Valentine’s Day.

I’m sure I’ve said I don’t care in the past, but there was a part of me that still did. It was just another reminder of how I was still single, or a holiday that, for whatever dumb reason, caused me to set these unrealistic expectations for my boyfriend at the time.

I don’t know if it’s because my relationship is currently long-distance or if it’s because I’m so humbled to be in a relationship where I feel like I’m constantly being doted upon…but, I actually don’t care about Valentine’s Day (although, I do really like those candy hearts). There’s a confidence and a security and I don’t need him to do something special for me on this particularly mandated day…because who he is every other day is more than enough (and in this, I already know that whatever happens/doesn’t happen isn’t going to disappoint).

It’s a weird place to be, honestly.
It’s a freeing place to be.

I feel like I should always write something about the holiday, though…considering that my blog has lots to do with love and relationships. But, I feel like it’s better if you just read what I wrote last year.

Because this year, I’m just thankful.
I don’t need anything more than what I have. I don’t want anything more than what I have.
This year, I’m an apathetic Valentine….but I recognize that it can very much be a holiday that many struggle with and through for various reasons.

So, read on… 
And don’t lose sight of the things that matter infinitely more than this.