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The Friend Zone

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

You know…the area you enter into with someone of the opposite gender that ensures that you two will most likely never be more than just friends… at least right now. 
There’s a lot of stuff to consider with this friend zone business. Sometimes we friend zone people temporarily, sometimes we friend zone them forever, sometimes we’ve only friend zoned them in our heads and they never know they’re in the friend zone until you have awkward conversations because of miscommunications and misunderstandings. 
Temporary arrangements of the friend zone include, but are not limited to: 
  • Talking to them about your current crush/romantic interest. This sends a very clear message that you are into someone else and therefore not considering them a romantic option. 
  • Making statements like, ‘If we’re both 40 and still single, we should get married!’ This back-up plan sends the message that you think that they are cool enough to possibly consider marrying, but you’re not counting on/interested in/wanting anything currently. 
  • Implying that you’re only capable of being best friends with the opposite gender over anything romantic. This may potentially reinforce the friend zone idea in their minds as they may consider you a safe person to befriend since you’re ‘used’ to the male-female friendship. 
  • Referring to them constantly as friends, best friends, etc. Not the most damaging, but it can certainly insinuate that that’s all you think of them as… While lots of great relationships stem from friendships, if you tend to focus on and emphasize the fact that you’re friends, they may feel very much as though you’re putting them in the friend zone. 
But, I’m not really here to talk about how to successfully friend zone someone (at least not in this post). I mostly want to focus on the fact that sometimes I think we friend zone people out of our own fears and insecurities… and sometimes we aren’t even aware that we are doing it. 
I think there have been times in my life where I thought that if a guy was ‘too cool’ for me, that it was safer for me to somehow establish a friend zone because it freed me from getting my hopes that the ‘impossible’ might come true. It was safer to say things or do things that made it clear that I was only in this for friendship because I didn’t want to (or didn’t know how to) handle the feelings of rejection that might accompany his lack of interest in anything more. 
There were also times that surrounding circumstances made relationships with guys more complicated, and so setting up a friend zone early on seemed the best route to take. If we could establish that this relationship would only be a friendship, we wouldn’t have to worry about who might get hurt by our intimacy or be responsible for our growing interest in each other beyond anything on a friend-level. The friend zone allowed for our friendship to excel without the confines of commitment. These, of course, are the friendships where all outsiders ask, ‘So Debbie… is anything going on with you two?’…and, of course, the appropriate response is always, ‘No way- we’re just friends!’ And you can say it with confidence because you’ve talked about it…but somewhere within you you still wonder, and maybe a part of you still hopes… 
Sometimes, on our crazier days, we may just friend zone people to see what kind of response we’ll get. Do they friend zone us back? Or do they resist the friend zone? Do they even care or notice? 
How much can we over-analyze all of this?
Too much. 
I guess I just wonder how much we’re all still playing games. Games that are birthed from a place of longing for connection. Games that surface because we’re so terrified that we won’t be accepted, wanted, desired for who we are. Games because we’re unwilling to make commitments or call things what they actually are (essentially being honest about it). 
Do you friend zone people?
Why? 
What’s your motive?
Do you even realize you’re doing it in the moment? 
Sometimes I think the friend zone can be a clear communicator that you’re simply not interested in someone…and, if it’s done well, I think that’s okay. But, too often I think we friend zone because it’s safer for us. It’s easier for us. It means less risk and less rejection. Sometimes we use it as a safe way of flirting, of feeling connected, of forming bonds with someone without actually committing to anything–you may even call it using someone for intimacy/fun (because you’ve established that you’re just friends, so now anything is okay, right?) 
I believe you can be friends with guys and leave the door open for the possibility of ‘what could be’. And maybe that actually allows us to have healthier relationships with them. I just don’t think we can friend zone all the guys in our lives and then be upset about the fact that we’re still single.  Not to mention that it’s super confusing for guys if we friend zone them and then change our minds down the road. Not to mention the fact that friend zoning someone and then still ‘needing’ them to fulfill your emotional voids can be damaging beyond what you may realize… 
And maybe we don’t need to stress out or over-analyze whether or not we’ve been friend-zoned by someone, either. 
It is what it is. 
Be friends. But don’t feel like you always need to attach labels and expectations and boundaries for what it can or can’t be. 
Don’t try to control the possibilities because you’re scared and insecure. And don’t use someone just because you’re not getting what you think need in the way you think you need it. 
Let it be. 
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A Risk.

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

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

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

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

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

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

To take a risk.

Always Second Chances Facebook Page

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Pray-er

I just really need to let him know that I’m praying for him.

Have you ever had the thought? Have you ever felt a sudden urge to intercede for someone, perhaps out of the blue, and then followed up by telling that person what you were doing?

While sometimes, sure, there’s a benefit to telling someone else that we’re praying for them… I’ve been wondering lately if that’s something we do for ourselves more than the other person. Because, if we’re being honest, the power of prayer isn’t stemming from our letting the person know that we’re praying for them… the power of prayer is the actual praying itself.

How many times have I told someone that for whatever reason that I felt like I needed to be praying for them, and then stopped praying for them? Probably too many, unfortunately. And how many times have I felt like I needed to be praying for someone, been diligent about doing so without ever letting them know, and then trusted that the Lord was going to move in His way and His time…even if I never saw the fruit of it?

Sometimes we convince ourselves that telling people we’re praying for them is done because we want to encourage them. And sometimes that’s true. But, I think there’s often a hidden motive to it. A lot of the time it boosts are own esteem, or we use it as a way to show that we care about another person. Sometimes we use it as a way to get back in touch with someone. Sometimes we just think we’re ‘supposed’ to let people know if we’re praying for them.

I’m not saying letting them know is bad or wrong by any means…
I’d just encourage you to check your motives for it.
And I’d challenge you on if you’re actually following up with the praying part or if you feel like you’re good deed was accomplished simply by telling someone that you’re praying for them.

Because, I’d be lying if I said I had never used the ‘ol praying excuse as a means to talk to someone I had no other reason to talk to before…even if I really had felt like I needed to be praying for them. Sometimes I think some of the best things we can do (especially for the people that we’ve maybe fallen out of touch with…sometimes for good reasons) is simply do the praying part without ever letting them know.

If we truly believe that God is as powerful as we say He is, and if we believe that prayer is as important as we claim it to be… what might it look like if we prayed as much as we talked about praying?

And if we’re going to tell someone that we’re praying for them? Why don’t we just pray for them instead? You know… like audibly pray with them, for them, in their presence? Why don’t we, if distance separates us, send them written prayers that we’re actually praying for them? Wouldn’t that be more powerful than anything else?

I guess I just want to move from being a talker to more of a doer.
I want to pray.
Not just talk about what you need prayer for.
I want to pray for the people that are placed on my heart, not just tell them that I felt like I needed to be praying for them.

I want to be diligent in it.
Because prayer matters.
In ways that I can’t even begin to comprehend…but I know that it does.

Will you join me in being a doer?
A pray-er?
A person who follows through on what we claim to believe?

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Worship

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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What am I?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The list goes on.

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

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

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

I hope it’s reassuring to you, too.

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What’s the Point?

I almost died the other day.
It was one of those times when you’re flying and the pilot comes over the intercom and says something like, “We’re going to be landing an hour early… there’s a funny smell in the cabin.”
An hour early? Sweet! We should have funny smells in the cabin more often if this is the result.
It’s not until a few minutes later when the stewardess is sweeping the cabin for trash and grows frantically impatient at a fellow flier (“Ma’am, hand over your trash immediately, this is an emergency!”) that you realize there may be something to worry about.
The plane lands faster than you’ve ever experienced before and upon the entry onto the runway, you notice several emergency vehicles with their lights flashing driving speedily toward your braking plane.
What the heck is happening?
Before you know it you’re best friends with the person next to you as you’ve just survived a potentially lethal situation.
Our emergency landing put us in a random city for a while as they assessed the plane, fixed the problem and loaded us back on, explaining about pops in the fuse box and smoke in the cockpit and compartments that had been shut down. But now, all is well, and we sail in our little capsule through the sky to our final destination.
My new best friend and I bonded over our love of the outdoors, our seemingly random reasons for our trips, our shared birthday, and (of course) our recent escape out of death’s grip. 
We parted ways at the baggage claim, wishing each other well for the rest of our lives. While we had exchanged first names about two hours into our new friendship, there was no other identifying factors that might lead us to further communication.
The interaction has made me think a lot about my interactions with strangers… and how quickly I am to avoid interaction when it seems unnecessary or unlikely that we will ever see each other again. After all, what’s the point? 
Sure, I am often overly nice to the lady checking me out at the grocery store, or to the waitress taking my order in a restaurant… but very rarely am I willing to go beyond the social boundaries that exist between customer and employee. Very rarely am I wanting to take the time to address them, first and foremost, as people.
But what if brief interactions can change everything?
What if conversations with strangers on airplanes that you’ll never see again somehow inspire, challenge, or encourage?
What if people (especially as they serve you, wait on you, or just exist next to you) become more than just a means to your end?
What if we pause?
What if we got uncomfortable?
What if we invested and took the time to know about someone’s life and let them know about your life… even if you’ll never see them again?
Sometimes I think I fall under the trap of believing that true transformation and change can only result from long-term relationships over time. And sometimes that’s probably true.
But maybe the little things matter more than we think.
Maybe the strangers that we’ll never see again need us to speak up, to say something, to interact with them. And maybe the conversations aren’t especially enthralling or exciting. But maybe they matter.
I want to be more willing to have the conversations, even if I sometimes think, “What’s the point?”
Because even if I never know the point…?

Maybe there still is one. 


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Before I’m 30

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Here I am, Lord… 

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Casual Dating?

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

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

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

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

“*Marriage*.” They clarify.

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

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

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

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


Because no one really ever dates someone casually and thinks, “Man, I really hope that through this dating process that he/she is really encouraged and I am incredibly humbled.” SURE, those things happen as we date… but dating has everything to do with finding someone to spend your life with….which, in and of itself, seems like a pretty selfish quest. I don’t know how we can entirely escape that. We’re looking for someone who fulfills our checklist, we’re looking for someone who enjoys doing the things we like to do. It’s when we start to really care about someone that something shifts in the relationship…and that’s when we decide that the sacrifices are worth it and the better able we are to truly love them as we get to know them. 

I guess I don’t know what it looks like to date casually and to not get emotionally attached on some level. I don’t know how to not think about myself in that process. I don’t know how to not sort through the endless lists of ‘what-ifs’ that we create about future possibilities. 

Maybe I actually think casual dating is somewhat impossible. That we can call it that, but it doesn’t exist. Because the moments our hearts are engaged with someone else’s in a way that draws out intimacy and vulnerability (which is what will happen when we are seeking to truly encourage someone else and humble ourselves…especially in a romantic context)…there’s something not so casual about it. It’s deep. It’s soul-bearing. We ask hard questions like, “Will he still want to keep seeing me if I tell him this? Or once he sees that I struggle with that?” 

There’s nothing casual about dating.
At least, I don’t think there should be. 
Not to mention the fact that dating itself is this awkward mess of unknowns that we flounder around in… there’s no need to get caught up in the heartache of casualness when there’s already so much complexity between males and females. 

If you’re gonna date… date with intention. Date with commitment (in the sense that you are only dating this one person). Date because you think they’re worth it… that they’re someone you might want to spend the rest of your life with…because in that you can truly honor and respect them, while sacrificing and compromising yourself. In that there is sanctification as much refining occurs. 

But… the moment you decide you can’t marry them (like, really know you can’t…not just have a momentary freak out over something silly) you need to end the relationship. This is the best way to honor them in the situation. Stop stringing someone along, just because it suits your needs and you’re able to justify it all because it’s “casual”. 

Those are just my two cents, though.. .
And that’s just my perspective of what ‘casual dating’ even means… 

BRYN:
Obviously, dating casually has its hang ups, as does any form of dating. The reality is, you may not be ready to “commit” to the long-haul on the first date, and that’s okay. There’s different ways to handle relationships and different ways to address “the big question”. But the point in all of it is this: constantly be looking out for the needs and well-being of the other person. So many times we forget that the Golden Rule applies to dating as well. Don’t rush anything, but don’t waste anyone’s time either. 

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The One

“Unworthy” felt stamped across my heart.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Think about it:
Whose voice defines you?

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Mask-less

I’ve gotten really good at putting on a mask.
A mask of smiles, laughter, the pretense that everything is okay. Occasionally I’ll take it off, depending on the person, the situation, or simply my inability to control my emotions.

I’ve been sad lately.
Sad and lonely.
There’s a desire for deep connection that I feel like I’m lacking–both in my relationships with others, but also the Lord.

I’m aware that relationships take time, but in the midst of loneliness, my natural reaction is to retract further into my shell. It becomes a self-perpetuating cycle. Out of my desire for intimacy, I’m silently asking who will make the effort, who will take the time, who will go out of their way to care about me…but in the process of wanting these things, I’m simultaneously shutting down any possibility of those things ever being able to happen. I’m closed off, non-communicative, and wearing my mask that allows people to see exactly what I want them to see.

It’s a mask that, probably more often than not, communicates that I don’t need people, that I don’t want people, and that I’m too good for them. In reality, I’m extremely aware that I need them, I know that I want them, and I’m scared that I’m simply not good enough for them….that they won’t want me when they truly see me.

My insecurities and fears breed a mask of self-confidence and independence in order to overcompensate for what I’m lacking.

I’ve approached new relationships with trepidation and hesitation, not feeling like I’ve had anything to offer or give. I’ve encountered new people with the assumption that they are already set up with the friends they need in life and don’t need to add more to their list. I’ve stamped out old relationships, feeling like the distance and time apart would cause people to forget or somehow give enough reason for them to stop caring about me. I’ve lost touch and allowed myself to get caught up in school and work and the busyness of it all.

And in the midst of all of the lies, the biggest one I’ve chosen to believe is that God doesn’t care about me. He doesn’t care about my desire for connectivity and intimacy.

So I feel rather disconnected.
I feel unplugged.

I feel like my expectations and my ideals will never be met, and so beneath my mask I am defeated and hopeless.

Do you ever feel like this?
Do you ever feel like no one understands you or wants to understand you? Do you ever feel isolated in your loneliness? Do you ever feel like God doesn’t care… and if He doesn’t care, why would anyone else?

My prayer lately has been that the Lord would truly be my portion and my strength. That in the times where the lies about His character seem to be all I can hear and see… that His truth would somehow prevail. That there would still somehow be hope, even in the despair.

Perhaps there is something to not being so consumed with myself, to not being so caught up in how others do or don’t show that they care about me, to not creating expectations that are unrealistic and impossible to meet.

Perhaps there is something to taking off the mask.
To admitting that sometimes we’re sad, that sometimes we’re lonely… that sometimes life doesn’t feel perfect, even when we can recognize that there is much to rejoice in. Sometimes we just don’t feel like rejoicing.

Perhaps there is something to pushing on, to taking steps forward, to not wallowing or dwelling in the pain that causes us to only think of ourselves. Perhaps there is something to reaching out, to finding ways to love or encourage others, and then even allowing them to do the same in return (even when it’s different than what you might want/expect). Perhaps there’s something to not assuming things about other people and what they think of you.

I’m working on taking off the mask–not just in my writing, but in my actual life. It’s not easy and I know it will take time. But, I hope that we might all be people who can let go of the facade…even when that means feeling like others might think that we’re somewhat unstable, or depressed, or whatever else. Because that’s the only way people know what’s really going on, and sometimes it’s the only way people can know how to care about us. Sometimes it’s the only way people can truly intercede for us.

Everybody hurts sometimes.
Even when the source of the pain seems ridiculous and unwarranted… it doesn’t negate that it’s there.
Let’s be honest about it. Not in a way that’s dramatic… but in a way that invites the Lord and others in to remind us of Truth. To remind us that there’s more than this.

And at the end of the day, may we truly be able to say: it is well with my soul.
And may we be able to truly rejoice, even when the tears are streaming down our face. Because our hope is not what is seen, but what is unseen….our hope is not in the assurances of this world, but in something greater that lasts through all of eternity.

May our momentary pains and afflictions not keep us from remembering that there is a better… and that makes everything else worth it in the end.

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