"We are only asked to love, to offer hope to the many hopeless. We don't get to choose all the endings, but we are asked to play the rescuers. We won't solve all the mysteries, and our hearts will certainly break in such a vulnerable life, but it is the best way. We are made to be lovers, bold in broken places, pouring ourselves out again and again until we're called home." - Jamie Tworkowski
This week my heart is breaking. Empathy has become such a rejected emotion. All I want to do is run from it; run far away to somewhere safe, where I can be free from the pull of relationships. As people we live in relationships and communities where we are connected with others. We each have our own lives, our own stories that we bring to the table. I bring my mess into my relationships, especially my close ones. Many times I will enter into a "surface" relationship where I will care about a person but not really get to know their story. And they won't have to know mine. We will live in the clean, spotless relationship where there is no dependency. We say to one another, "I don't really need you, but I enjoy having you around. You make me feel loved." How many other humans feel this same way? Probably far too many. We go about life, not wanting to share our mess. We don't want to trust anyone or have the awkwardness of needing comfort or love from them. What if...heaven forbid...they see our tears or our anger or our depression! Then they will know that I don't have it all together. They'll know that I'm not perfect. Because my outer character portrayed my independence so well.
I tend to shy away from tears. When a friend is struggling, I definitely try my best to "get to the heart" of things, but really all I want to do is hide. I want to cry for them and their pain, but I don't want to see them cry. Usually I just push past my own discomfort and ask them about their tears anyway. I try to act like it's natural, their pain, and get to what's really going on. This usually results in me being more serious than I wanted to be. I feel standoff-ish and inadequate. Because really, I don't know how to fix it. I don't want you to feel pain or hurt or experience tears, but what can I do? I want to share your burden with you, pray for you, hurt with you, but how often when I ask, "What can I do?" will you respond with, "You can hold me"?
And I feel so much anguish. You don't know that I feel what you feel because I have been there. I've experienced rejection and rage and shame and numbness. It's been so real that I could taste it. I've laid in bed and cried myself to sleep so many times. I've felt so alone that I wondered whether there would ever be anyone out there who could possibly understand the absolute breaking of my soul in that moment. It hurts. More than physical pain, it hurts. Like my heart hurts now. Because I don't know how to fix you. Or even how to help you.
I fully believe that God has given me a unique spiritual gift. I believe that he gives everyone unique spiritual gifts and that no two are alike. Mine is discernment. Looking into people's lives and discovering their pain and why it's there. This amplifies my empathy. I can SEE your brokenness and I can FEEL it also. I want you to know something: your story matters. And YOU matter. You have a purpose and a reason. So does your brokenness.
These last two months I've taken a lot of time to look at my weaknesses throughout the years. I'm turning 25 in less than a month and at times I feel like I'm turning 60. I have experienced life. I can't say that I've been where you've been or done what you've done. But I can say that my experiences have brought me the understanding of a 60 year old. Or at least a 30 year old. Ha!
Yet God has redeemed me. It's so amazing to think about. He takes your story, your life, and uses it to bless others. All of your pain, all of the life lessons and experiences that you've been through, he turns around and uses to teach others. How can that possibly happen? My pain, that absolute tearing of my soul, God is using to help others. I can now help others because of my own experiences. Without relationships and community, how could that happen? If you don't let others in, if you keep those surface relationships, how will you ever know if that person is struggling with something you've been through? Even just knowing that you aren't alone is sometimes enough. But how will you ever know if you don't open up and trust?
My fear of tears is often about me rather than about the other person. It's selfish, I'll admit. Because I hate mess. But just think about it: if that person were never asked what's underneath, would they ever share? What if you have something to offer them through their pain? What if they need what you have to offer? How will you ever know unless you try?
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
Thursday, April 4, 2013
Patience
In the last couple of weeks I've seen and heard numerous people complaining about having to be patient. "Don't pray for patience, God will give you opportunities to practice it," or, "I hate being patient." It seems that the people I know hate being patient or even praying for patience (despite the fact that they thought about praying for it in the first place). The most common problem I hear, especially from Christians is "If I pray for patience, God won't give me it, but he'll give me opportunities to practice it." I love how patience is not something to be desired but instead something to be complained about.
Don't get me wrong. I am not standing on my pedestal judging others for being impatient. I am simply pointing out an ironic fact. I have definitely had my fair share of having to be patient so I understand how hard it is at times. However, let me share a few stories:
My boyfriend is the most patient person I know. I have never met anyone who is as laid-back and understanding and encouraging as Joe is. He's taught me more about patience in the 8 years I've known him than I could probably have learned in one lifetime without him. He knows the meaning of the words "waiting on God" and I admire him so much for trusting in God blindly even when he had no idea where his future would lead. In high school he never had a clear picture of what he wanted to do. He didn't want to end up doing something that God didn't approve of. God didn't give him the big picture but instead took him by the hand and led him baby step by baby step through the last 10 years.
When I was in high school, living with my mom was always a challenge. At the time the doctors thought she was bi-polar which meant her moods could shift quickly. It was always unpredictable, especially when she told me to do something. I definitely couldn't waist time in doing it or I would receive the wrath of my mother. I remember fighting with her over trivial things like doing the dishes or not waking her up from a nap. I would always end up biting my tongue and not saying what I really wanted to say to her because I knew our arguments would never end. It's that sense of tension that you get in your shoulders and chest when you are so frustrated but can't do anything about it. And then someone tells you to be patient...
Joe and I began dating when we were both 21. We had been friends since our junior year in high school, so we already knew each other quite well before we dated. Within the first couple of months we established that we would be dating with the intent of marriage. However, marriage wasn't even an option until we were both out of college. Joe was already a sophomore in college at the time, and I was taking a break from school to work. I figured we would have 2 years at the most. You see, I already knew that Joe was the one that I wanted to be with. God definitely had a different plan. The spring after we began dating I got accepted to a college 2 1/2 hours away from his. With a minimum of 4 years of school. Joe ended up adding another major to his program and gained an additional 3 years of school. My plans didn't work out. And long distance relationships teach patience.
When I say I understand patience, I don't exaggerate. Joe wasn't the boyfriend that I expected when we first started dating. But every time I asked God if I was doing the right thing, he would say, "Just wait. Trust me." And Joe has grown into the man I need. I didn't expect to be in college until I was 25 years old. But though I am ready to be done, God is telling me that my work here is not done. Going to a small Christian college isn't always easy. In the last 2 1/2 years I've been here there have been probably 25 engagements or more, and most of those couples have been married by now. I keep asking God, "When will it be my turn? When will I be one of those people?" And he replies with, "Just wait. Trust me."
When I hear people complain about having to be patient, I inwardly chuckle. Do you really know what it's like? Or is patience simply waiting in line at the grocery store? To bring up a Biblical example: Israel had to wait for their Messiah for thousands of years. The Jews wandered in the wilderness for 40 years before they could enter the Promised Land. Abraham was told that his descendants would be as numerous as the stars. God told him to sacrifice his one and only son. Yet, he provided.
I don't want to trivialize your problems or make them seem like they're not important, but I wonder if we as humans (as Americans especially) even know the meaning of patience. We live in a consumer-driven age where we can literally have anything we want anytime we want it. If we are hungry we can get in our cars and drive to a fast food restaurant. If we need to talk to someone we can text them or call them on our cell phones. It seems like everyone is so busy that not only can we not make time to slow down, but we don't know how to. We have our jobs, our families, our meetings, our sports, our classes, our events and activities. There is so much that fills our time and our lives that we forget how to slow down. And then we complain about having to be patient.
I try not to be hypocritical. Therefore, everything that I have mentioned above is true of me also. I struggle with patience daily. But then I have my boyfriend and my God remind me of why I need to be. Because the rewards are worth it. God will provide. Jesus came to save the Jews and the world. The Israelites got to enter the Promised Land and have their own nation to call home. Joe is figuring out his future as a Physics teacher. And I will eventually get married. And it will all be worth it. When that does happen, I will forget about how long I had to wait because it won't have mattered. Right now, patience seems like a small price to pay for a worthy reward.
Don't get me wrong. I am not standing on my pedestal judging others for being impatient. I am simply pointing out an ironic fact. I have definitely had my fair share of having to be patient so I understand how hard it is at times. However, let me share a few stories:
My boyfriend is the most patient person I know. I have never met anyone who is as laid-back and understanding and encouraging as Joe is. He's taught me more about patience in the 8 years I've known him than I could probably have learned in one lifetime without him. He knows the meaning of the words "waiting on God" and I admire him so much for trusting in God blindly even when he had no idea where his future would lead. In high school he never had a clear picture of what he wanted to do. He didn't want to end up doing something that God didn't approve of. God didn't give him the big picture but instead took him by the hand and led him baby step by baby step through the last 10 years.
When I was in high school, living with my mom was always a challenge. At the time the doctors thought she was bi-polar which meant her moods could shift quickly. It was always unpredictable, especially when she told me to do something. I definitely couldn't waist time in doing it or I would receive the wrath of my mother. I remember fighting with her over trivial things like doing the dishes or not waking her up from a nap. I would always end up biting my tongue and not saying what I really wanted to say to her because I knew our arguments would never end. It's that sense of tension that you get in your shoulders and chest when you are so frustrated but can't do anything about it. And then someone tells you to be patient...
Joe and I began dating when we were both 21. We had been friends since our junior year in high school, so we already knew each other quite well before we dated. Within the first couple of months we established that we would be dating with the intent of marriage. However, marriage wasn't even an option until we were both out of college. Joe was already a sophomore in college at the time, and I was taking a break from school to work. I figured we would have 2 years at the most. You see, I already knew that Joe was the one that I wanted to be with. God definitely had a different plan. The spring after we began dating I got accepted to a college 2 1/2 hours away from his. With a minimum of 4 years of school. Joe ended up adding another major to his program and gained an additional 3 years of school. My plans didn't work out. And long distance relationships teach patience.
When I say I understand patience, I don't exaggerate. Joe wasn't the boyfriend that I expected when we first started dating. But every time I asked God if I was doing the right thing, he would say, "Just wait. Trust me." And Joe has grown into the man I need. I didn't expect to be in college until I was 25 years old. But though I am ready to be done, God is telling me that my work here is not done. Going to a small Christian college isn't always easy. In the last 2 1/2 years I've been here there have been probably 25 engagements or more, and most of those couples have been married by now. I keep asking God, "When will it be my turn? When will I be one of those people?" And he replies with, "Just wait. Trust me."
When I hear people complain about having to be patient, I inwardly chuckle. Do you really know what it's like? Or is patience simply waiting in line at the grocery store? To bring up a Biblical example: Israel had to wait for their Messiah for thousands of years. The Jews wandered in the wilderness for 40 years before they could enter the Promised Land. Abraham was told that his descendants would be as numerous as the stars. God told him to sacrifice his one and only son. Yet, he provided.
I don't want to trivialize your problems or make them seem like they're not important, but I wonder if we as humans (as Americans especially) even know the meaning of patience. We live in a consumer-driven age where we can literally have anything we want anytime we want it. If we are hungry we can get in our cars and drive to a fast food restaurant. If we need to talk to someone we can text them or call them on our cell phones. It seems like everyone is so busy that not only can we not make time to slow down, but we don't know how to. We have our jobs, our families, our meetings, our sports, our classes, our events and activities. There is so much that fills our time and our lives that we forget how to slow down. And then we complain about having to be patient.
I try not to be hypocritical. Therefore, everything that I have mentioned above is true of me also. I struggle with patience daily. But then I have my boyfriend and my God remind me of why I need to be. Because the rewards are worth it. God will provide. Jesus came to save the Jews and the world. The Israelites got to enter the Promised Land and have their own nation to call home. Joe is figuring out his future as a Physics teacher. And I will eventually get married. And it will all be worth it. When that does happen, I will forget about how long I had to wait because it won't have mattered. Right now, patience seems like a small price to pay for a worthy reward.
Friday, February 22, 2013
Selfishness
I read a friend's blog the other day that inspired the following. After discussing the concept with my close friend, I realized that SO many people, especially someone really close to me, fall under the category that I'm going to describe. I even do at times. I won't name the person I'm ranting about nor will I apologize for my bluntness or my anger. The following is an excerpt from my journal entry.
"...[Her] relationship with God has been a facade. Has she really ever had a "relationship" with God? One that's two-sided? Or has it always been selfish? Her reading into situations or experiences for her own benefit? Seeing God's hand in something he had nothing to do with? Making a religion or "perceived relationship" out of her own selfish desires? It really has nothing to do with God, only that she can get something she wants out of it. And when she doesn't, she gives up and ignores him, like so many others. Really. How many people in our world today seek religion to get something out of it? Too many. That's why there are so many different religions. Our culture is becoming more and more narcissistic, egotistical, and humanistic, to the point where a religion where we're required to be selfless and possibly give something of ourselves is becoming irrelevant. It makes me want to cry. And that's how our religion is different than others.
...However, our religion requires everything of us. Our God sent his son to die for us, out of selfless love. He saved us from our depravity because he loves us. And he requires selfless love in return. How many other religions can say that? Realizing this makes me wish I really did know more about that other world religions. (My own knowledge is limited). Last weekend I watched Eat Pray Love, and it had the same effect on me. The main character feels this void, this hole, like she knows she's missing something and she tries different things to try and fill it. She's not happy with her husband, so she divorces him. She meets another man who she immediately rebounds to which doesn't work out. So she travels to Italy and eats and makes friends and learns Italian, but feels so alone. She travels to India where she seeks spirituality, meets friends, forgives her ex-husband and herself, but still hasn't found what she's looking for. She finally ends up in Bali where she befriends a medicine man and meditates often in a desperate attempt to feel "balance" in her life. Whatever that is... She finally meets a man who sweeps her off her feet and shares so many things in common with her, she knows it's meant to be. After a conflict, some indecision, and an epiphany, she realizes he is the one she's been searching for. The movie was well written and interesting but made me so very sad. How many people in this world are searching for something to fill them and seeking all the wrong things? How many are selfishly saying, "I NEED something to fill the hole, numb the pain, fill in the blank...", and are seeking selfishly? They want a quick fix, but don't want to change. Because, really there's nothing wrong with them, there's something wrong with the world! I shouldn't have to change when there's nothing wrong with me, I'm just lonely and someone or something NEEDS to fill my hole for me. I'm disgusted. And yet I do it too.
"It's all about me!" We cry out and yet there are children with AIDS in Africa whose families have been killed in mass genocides. Our neighbors were abused as children and now get drunk and high every night because they can't move past the pain. Our siblings compare themselves to the physical beauties of this world because they've been addicted to porn and have seen that that's the only way to get love, through physical appearance. Our world...is such a sad, scary, lonely place. And yet, there's a religion, a MAN who gives us hope. Hope that we can be saved from our loneliness, hope that we can feel loved and important, and hope that this sad, scary, lonely place isn't all there is. He simply asks us to love him in return. To truly love him. And really, how hard is that? When we put so much effort into making ourselves look beautiful or strong according to the world's standards. We put on masks everyday to hide our pain because we're afraid we won't be accepted exactly as we are.We pour ourselves into sports, school, work, busyness, so we don't have to think about our pain and discontent. How hard is it to simply love Another? An excuse may be that one doesn't know hot to love...or trust enough to love, rather. If you can love your addiction to video games, food, sports, pornography, twitter, lust, fantasizing, sex, drugs, or alcohol, then why can't you put that much devotion and effort into loving God who will actually fill your void for you and love you in return? My point is that Christianity, no faith in God, a relationship with him, requires us to be selfless. We must give something of ourselves in order to fill the hole. You can't, no matter how hard you try, fix it yourself. You must seek God to fill it. He's not going to impose himself on you. You must seek Him. And keep seeking Him. Don't expect Him to automatically fill your void for you without work. It takes work. Every religion, every thing we do, takes work. If you can creatively formulate a lie to make yourself look good in a job interview, then you can put effort into a relationship with God. He wants you. He wants your whole life. He loves you. He's loved you since the beginning. He saved your from this life of pain and loneliness. And yet you reject his help. How's that working out for you? Is your life getting easier? Are you succeeding in fixing it on your own? Is your selfishness making you less lonely or getting you what you want? Hmm...didn't think so. There's Someone waiting for you. Patiently waiting."
If it's not obvious, I've keenly become aware of my own selfishness and desire for God to fulfill my needs without ever giving him anything in return. He needs to give me it because I want it and deserve it, that's why. How disgustingly selfish. So if it seems that I'm judging the person I am referring to above, I am...but I am also judging myself. We all fall under this category at some time or another. Selfless faith seems to be against our human nature. I pray that everyone who reads this can learn from it and grow a more healthy faith life.
"...[Her] relationship with God has been a facade. Has she really ever had a "relationship" with God? One that's two-sided? Or has it always been selfish? Her reading into situations or experiences for her own benefit? Seeing God's hand in something he had nothing to do with? Making a religion or "perceived relationship" out of her own selfish desires? It really has nothing to do with God, only that she can get something she wants out of it. And when she doesn't, she gives up and ignores him, like so many others. Really. How many people in our world today seek religion to get something out of it? Too many. That's why there are so many different religions. Our culture is becoming more and more narcissistic, egotistical, and humanistic, to the point where a religion where we're required to be selfless and possibly give something of ourselves is becoming irrelevant. It makes me want to cry. And that's how our religion is different than others.
...However, our religion requires everything of us. Our God sent his son to die for us, out of selfless love. He saved us from our depravity because he loves us. And he requires selfless love in return. How many other religions can say that? Realizing this makes me wish I really did know more about that other world religions. (My own knowledge is limited). Last weekend I watched Eat Pray Love, and it had the same effect on me. The main character feels this void, this hole, like she knows she's missing something and she tries different things to try and fill it. She's not happy with her husband, so she divorces him. She meets another man who she immediately rebounds to which doesn't work out. So she travels to Italy and eats and makes friends and learns Italian, but feels so alone. She travels to India where she seeks spirituality, meets friends, forgives her ex-husband and herself, but still hasn't found what she's looking for. She finally ends up in Bali where she befriends a medicine man and meditates often in a desperate attempt to feel "balance" in her life. Whatever that is... She finally meets a man who sweeps her off her feet and shares so many things in common with her, she knows it's meant to be. After a conflict, some indecision, and an epiphany, she realizes he is the one she's been searching for. The movie was well written and interesting but made me so very sad. How many people in this world are searching for something to fill them and seeking all the wrong things? How many are selfishly saying, "I NEED something to fill the hole, numb the pain, fill in the blank...", and are seeking selfishly? They want a quick fix, but don't want to change. Because, really there's nothing wrong with them, there's something wrong with the world! I shouldn't have to change when there's nothing wrong with me, I'm just lonely and someone or something NEEDS to fill my hole for me. I'm disgusted. And yet I do it too.
"It's all about me!" We cry out and yet there are children with AIDS in Africa whose families have been killed in mass genocides. Our neighbors were abused as children and now get drunk and high every night because they can't move past the pain. Our siblings compare themselves to the physical beauties of this world because they've been addicted to porn and have seen that that's the only way to get love, through physical appearance. Our world...is such a sad, scary, lonely place. And yet, there's a religion, a MAN who gives us hope. Hope that we can be saved from our loneliness, hope that we can feel loved and important, and hope that this sad, scary, lonely place isn't all there is. He simply asks us to love him in return. To truly love him. And really, how hard is that? When we put so much effort into making ourselves look beautiful or strong according to the world's standards. We put on masks everyday to hide our pain because we're afraid we won't be accepted exactly as we are.We pour ourselves into sports, school, work, busyness, so we don't have to think about our pain and discontent. How hard is it to simply love Another? An excuse may be that one doesn't know hot to love...or trust enough to love, rather. If you can love your addiction to video games, food, sports, pornography, twitter, lust, fantasizing, sex, drugs, or alcohol, then why can't you put that much devotion and effort into loving God who will actually fill your void for you and love you in return? My point is that Christianity, no faith in God, a relationship with him, requires us to be selfless. We must give something of ourselves in order to fill the hole. You can't, no matter how hard you try, fix it yourself. You must seek God to fill it. He's not going to impose himself on you. You must seek Him. And keep seeking Him. Don't expect Him to automatically fill your void for you without work. It takes work. Every religion, every thing we do, takes work. If you can creatively formulate a lie to make yourself look good in a job interview, then you can put effort into a relationship with God. He wants you. He wants your whole life. He loves you. He's loved you since the beginning. He saved your from this life of pain and loneliness. And yet you reject his help. How's that working out for you? Is your life getting easier? Are you succeeding in fixing it on your own? Is your selfishness making you less lonely or getting you what you want? Hmm...didn't think so. There's Someone waiting for you. Patiently waiting."
If it's not obvious, I've keenly become aware of my own selfishness and desire for God to fulfill my needs without ever giving him anything in return. He needs to give me it because I want it and deserve it, that's why. How disgustingly selfish. So if it seems that I'm judging the person I am referring to above, I am...but I am also judging myself. We all fall under this category at some time or another. Selfless faith seems to be against our human nature. I pray that everyone who reads this can learn from it and grow a more healthy faith life.
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
Faithful
There is a song by Matt Redman called "Never Once." It goes like this:
Standing on this mountaintop
Looking just how far we’ve come
Knowing that for every step
You were with us
Kneeling on this battle ground
Seeing just how much You’ve done
Knowing every victory
Was Your power in us
Scars and struggles on the way
But with joy our hearts can say
Yes, our hearts can say
Never once did we ever walk alone
Never once did You leave us on our own
You are faithful, God, You are faithful
Looking just how far we’ve come
Knowing that for every step
You were with us
Kneeling on this battle ground
Seeing just how much You’ve done
Knowing every victory
Was Your power in us
Scars and struggles on the way
But with joy our hearts can say
Yes, our hearts can say
Never once did we ever walk alone
Never once did You leave us on our own
You are faithful, God, You are faithful
My story, my testimony, is a testament to God's faithfulness. Do you really think that coincidences like that would happen if it weren't for a higher power? An ultimate Creator? Let's look at some of them.
The presence of my grandma, my aunt, my cousin, my best friend in middle school all who brought me to church, who brought me to Christ. They all gave me a sense of hope that life can get better and that life is better when you follow God.
The ability to ignore the pain, a defense mechanism that was needed in those moments. Humans are blessed to be able to have defense mechanisms that protect them from feeling the full effects of pain in their everyday lives.
Providing me the cry of my heart, to be a part of a church family, to feel welcome and at home in a place where I knew I was loved. My youth group became that place for me. My youth director and leaders and peers became brothers, sisters, mentors, friends, fathers, and mothers to me. They loved me without needing to know my history. They didn't question my home life or where I came from. They didn't judge me and they wouldn't leave me.
Making trustworthy, true, genuine, loving, faithful friends at exactly the right time. I have never had truer friendships and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I will remain friends with these people my entire life. They won't leave me after awhile, they won't abandon me, and they won't choose other things over our friendship.
A place to stay when I needed it. A safe haven, a refuge, and a home where I belonged. I wasn't homeless. I was protected in this place. I still am...I live there when I'm not at school, 7 1/2 years later.
A family that was willing to become my family. Aimee's mom became my mom. She has shown me what it means to have a loving, unconditional, faithful mother who loves and cares for me. She has provided so much for me. She has become my true mom. And Aimee's siblings have become mine. I've learned life skills from them that I never would have learned anywhere else. I love them, I hurt with them, I rejoice with them, and I get excited for them. They are mine.
The things that I didn't mention:
-People in my life who love me but are willing to call me out on the things I need to change.
-More friendships that have taught me about true friendship.
-Healing from my past and growing in forgiveness for those who have hurt me. It couldn't have happened without His help.
-Money, food, and a place to stay when I have needed it most.
-A school where I love to learn and continue to thrive.
What other evidence do you need that there is a God? Are these things still coincidence? There is a reason that I no longer doubt there is a God. My life is His testimony. He is a part of me and my life. He's been there all along. And it's all been Him. Without Him I wouldn't be where I am today. I wouldn't be able to have the joy, empathy, love, acceptance, patience, and trust that I do.
I told you in the last blog that I would come back to the father issue. If you had asked me in 9th grade what I thought a father was, it would be a lot different than my definition today. A father is someone who is intentional and makes time for his family and puts them above everything else (Mike). A father is someone who never gives up on you and sees your potential long before you see the potential in yourself (Eric). A father is someone who cares for you no matter what you do and is willing to joke and have fun, but also requires obedience (my grandpa). A father is someone who provides for you, who will take you back no matter what you do, who is faithful and strong and trustworthy, among so many other things (God).
Thank you, God. May my life continue to emanate your presence.
My Story
Not many people know my testimony. Pretty much only the people I'm really really close with. I tend to keep my already friends close and not let anyone new in. There's a reason for that. I would say it's one of my biggest weaknesses. But God works through my weaknesses. In my weakness He is strong. So this is a story about His strength, His provision, and His faithfulness.
My parents were never married when I was born, so from the start I never had a reliable father. My mom and dad broke up after a couple years and I've only seen him off and on since. My mom has had multiple boyfriends since then, most of them were never great role models or worthy of being called my dad. Some of them were abusive, some were alcoholics, some were drug addicts. But mainly they were all not-good-dads. I learned from them about the type of father that I didn't want. I'll come back to this more later.
My grandma and my aunt and cousin were the main reason I came to know Jesus. My grandma was Catholic and went to church every Sunday morning - 7:00 A.M. She made sure that I came with her, and when I was old enough, that I went to First Communion classes. My aunt was very strong in her faith and had homeschooled my cousins and was raising them to have solid relationships with Jesus. I spent the majority of my time at her house because my cousin Sara and I were best friends and close in age. I went to church with them whenever I was over, and even went to Vacation Bible School a couple times. As I grew up I built a solid foundation, so that when I was home with my mom I maintained my zeal. My faith became very much my own from a young age and just continued to grow. I read my Bible without anyone telling me. I prayed every night before I went to bed. A relationship with God felt so much more different than a relationship with anyone else.
As I entered middle school and my teenage years, life became tougher. My mom and I had just moved into a new house (our fourth move since I was a kid), her boyfriend had moved with us, and I was starting middle school. This boyfriend was abusive, especially when he drank, and I learned how to read the signs and stay in my room with my headphones on. I started talking to boys I liked (a big step for me, but not necessarily a healthy one). And I spent most of my time with my friends or talking on the phone to my cousin Sara. She helped keep me stable and helped turn me back to God when that was what I really needed.
In 8th grade, my best friend asked me to go to confirmation class with her at her church. I jumped on the opportunity to learn about God and get to spend more time away from home. That year my mom broke up with her abusive boyfriend and less than a year later found another man. Immediately they got serious and he moved in with us even though I told her I didn't want him to. I poured myself into reading my Bible and journaling out my feelings and prayers. My talking with God started to become more heartfelt and genuine and my greatest desire was to become a member of my friend's church family. I wanted a place where I belonged and I had read about youth groups being like families. I wanted a stable family, a place where I felt I belonged.
God hears the cries of innocent hearts. The groans of my Spirit were heard. However, it's always darkest before the dawn. High school began and for some reason my friends were changing. They didn't want to hang out with me as much. They were interested in different things, like boys and makeup and clothes. I wanted to go to church and read my Bible. Home had become like hell. My mom's new boyfriend would spend most of his time in our spare bedroom (which happened to be next to my room) or sleeping. My mom went through multiple jobs that year, she slept when she wasn't working, and when she did pay attention to me we would end up fighting. Her screaming at me and me ignoring her and staying silent. I joined the youth group at my friend's church, though she didn't go anymore, and still didn't make any really good friends.
That summer I decided to go on a trip with my new youth group. It was a 9 day long mystery road trip. None of the kids got to know where we were going, though it was somewhere out of state, but the parents got to know. I didn't really know anyone that went on the trip but I decided that maybe I would meet some new people and it would be a fun experience. I knew some kids from school though didn't really talk to them. At the end of the 9 days I had met Aimee, Nate, and Joe, as well as others, who 8 years later are still my best friends.
Even though I had new friends, that didn't mean that home life got any better. A year later I found out that my mom was using meth as well as other drugs. There is a sense of abandonment and jealousy when a child finds out that their parent has been loving something else more than them. I spent most of my nights crying myself to sleep. I spent my day after school locked in my room, not allowing anyone in. I would talk to my friends at youth group and at church. I prayed for my pain to stop. I journaled and read my Bible with a vengeance. When I was at home, God was my constant.
The summer after my junior year in high school I was spending nearly every weekend at Aimee's house. My mom was still using and she spent most of her time sleeping while I was home. I generally avoided her. One day she awoke in a fury and we got into a really nasty fight that ended in her hitting me, something she'd never done up until then. That was the last straw. That night I packed up all of my necessities and in the morning packed them in my car, left my mom a note, and drove to Aimee's. Her family was welcoming. I don't know why God provided me with a safe place and a safe family at exactly that moment, but he did. My mom was apologetic but a few months later she ended up in prison for selling meth. And again I was grateful that God had provided a place for me.
My senior year was another tough time. It's easier to say that you'd love to live with your best friend, but harder to do. Especially since I was used to living pretty much independently without thinking about anyone else. Aimee had siblings that soon were expected to become my siblings. I'd never had siblings before. I didn't know how to react to them. Her mom was unconditionally loving and accepting. She worked hard to include me and treat me as her own. I didn't know how to respond to a mom who wanted to be involved in my life. Not to mention I was a senior in high school, struggling to figure out my future. Needless to say, I had come to a refuge but was still stuck in the storm. God had blessed me immensely. He had provided everything for me.
I don't know why people suffer or why bad things happen to good/innocent people, but I also don't know why I survived with a pure heart. I should have been bitter and angry and spiraled downward into depression. I should still be in that place. However, that's not where my story ends.
My parents were never married when I was born, so from the start I never had a reliable father. My mom and dad broke up after a couple years and I've only seen him off and on since. My mom has had multiple boyfriends since then, most of them were never great role models or worthy of being called my dad. Some of them were abusive, some were alcoholics, some were drug addicts. But mainly they were all not-good-dads. I learned from them about the type of father that I didn't want. I'll come back to this more later.
My grandma and my aunt and cousin were the main reason I came to know Jesus. My grandma was Catholic and went to church every Sunday morning - 7:00 A.M. She made sure that I came with her, and when I was old enough, that I went to First Communion classes. My aunt was very strong in her faith and had homeschooled my cousins and was raising them to have solid relationships with Jesus. I spent the majority of my time at her house because my cousin Sara and I were best friends and close in age. I went to church with them whenever I was over, and even went to Vacation Bible School a couple times. As I grew up I built a solid foundation, so that when I was home with my mom I maintained my zeal. My faith became very much my own from a young age and just continued to grow. I read my Bible without anyone telling me. I prayed every night before I went to bed. A relationship with God felt so much more different than a relationship with anyone else.
As I entered middle school and my teenage years, life became tougher. My mom and I had just moved into a new house (our fourth move since I was a kid), her boyfriend had moved with us, and I was starting middle school. This boyfriend was abusive, especially when he drank, and I learned how to read the signs and stay in my room with my headphones on. I started talking to boys I liked (a big step for me, but not necessarily a healthy one). And I spent most of my time with my friends or talking on the phone to my cousin Sara. She helped keep me stable and helped turn me back to God when that was what I really needed.
In 8th grade, my best friend asked me to go to confirmation class with her at her church. I jumped on the opportunity to learn about God and get to spend more time away from home. That year my mom broke up with her abusive boyfriend and less than a year later found another man. Immediately they got serious and he moved in with us even though I told her I didn't want him to. I poured myself into reading my Bible and journaling out my feelings and prayers. My talking with God started to become more heartfelt and genuine and my greatest desire was to become a member of my friend's church family. I wanted a place where I belonged and I had read about youth groups being like families. I wanted a stable family, a place where I felt I belonged.
God hears the cries of innocent hearts. The groans of my Spirit were heard. However, it's always darkest before the dawn. High school began and for some reason my friends were changing. They didn't want to hang out with me as much. They were interested in different things, like boys and makeup and clothes. I wanted to go to church and read my Bible. Home had become like hell. My mom's new boyfriend would spend most of his time in our spare bedroom (which happened to be next to my room) or sleeping. My mom went through multiple jobs that year, she slept when she wasn't working, and when she did pay attention to me we would end up fighting. Her screaming at me and me ignoring her and staying silent. I joined the youth group at my friend's church, though she didn't go anymore, and still didn't make any really good friends.
That summer I decided to go on a trip with my new youth group. It was a 9 day long mystery road trip. None of the kids got to know where we were going, though it was somewhere out of state, but the parents got to know. I didn't really know anyone that went on the trip but I decided that maybe I would meet some new people and it would be a fun experience. I knew some kids from school though didn't really talk to them. At the end of the 9 days I had met Aimee, Nate, and Joe, as well as others, who 8 years later are still my best friends.
Even though I had new friends, that didn't mean that home life got any better. A year later I found out that my mom was using meth as well as other drugs. There is a sense of abandonment and jealousy when a child finds out that their parent has been loving something else more than them. I spent most of my nights crying myself to sleep. I spent my day after school locked in my room, not allowing anyone in. I would talk to my friends at youth group and at church. I prayed for my pain to stop. I journaled and read my Bible with a vengeance. When I was at home, God was my constant.
The summer after my junior year in high school I was spending nearly every weekend at Aimee's house. My mom was still using and she spent most of her time sleeping while I was home. I generally avoided her. One day she awoke in a fury and we got into a really nasty fight that ended in her hitting me, something she'd never done up until then. That was the last straw. That night I packed up all of my necessities and in the morning packed them in my car, left my mom a note, and drove to Aimee's. Her family was welcoming. I don't know why God provided me with a safe place and a safe family at exactly that moment, but he did. My mom was apologetic but a few months later she ended up in prison for selling meth. And again I was grateful that God had provided a place for me.
My senior year was another tough time. It's easier to say that you'd love to live with your best friend, but harder to do. Especially since I was used to living pretty much independently without thinking about anyone else. Aimee had siblings that soon were expected to become my siblings. I'd never had siblings before. I didn't know how to react to them. Her mom was unconditionally loving and accepting. She worked hard to include me and treat me as her own. I didn't know how to respond to a mom who wanted to be involved in my life. Not to mention I was a senior in high school, struggling to figure out my future. Needless to say, I had come to a refuge but was still stuck in the storm. God had blessed me immensely. He had provided everything for me.
I don't know why people suffer or why bad things happen to good/innocent people, but I also don't know why I survived with a pure heart. I should have been bitter and angry and spiraled downward into depression. I should still be in that place. However, that's not where my story ends.
Monday, February 20, 2012
The surreal...
As I said before, Joe and I were good friends before we decided to start dating. Our friendship began about 5 years before we started dating, in fact. I have so many memories of us. The following summer road trip (after the one where we met) was also an interesting one. It's the one where I fully developed my crush and where we fully developed our friendship.
There are too many details to go into in describing that road trip. We ended up in Wyoming that summer and one of our vans got into an accident that essentially brought all of us who had been familiar acquaintances closer together. Aimee and I truly became best friends. Nate and I became like brother and sister. And Joe and I almost started dating then. All I can say is that he was a flirt. And one day during lunch apparently Aimee had asked him if he and I were going to be the next church couple. To which he replied, "maybe."
Neither of us were anywhere close to ready to date at that point. We were just 16 and had never been in relationships before and barely knew anything about the opposite gender. But that's when my crush formed and it never ended. Even when I became so upset that I ended our friendship. Even the countless times we drew boundaries in our friendship because we didn't want to spend so much time by ourselves. Even when he told me that he didn't like me as any more than a friend. Even when I started to like another guy and told him I was over him. I lied to myself. And for whatever reason, he started liking me as more than a friend.
Because of all that we've been through as friends it's still hard to believe that we're more than friends. Almost every day I'm in awe of the fact that we are dating, hopefully on our way to marriage someday. It is surreal. As if one day the guy I had a crush on tries to make me not like him, and then the next I wake up and he thinks I'm absolutely captivating. I feel like pinching myself because it feels so much like a dream.
I'd like to think that this is what God has intended for me all along. Every relationship should feel like the best dream ever. And every day you should truly be excited to wake up to the reality that you are with the man of your dreams. This is my fairy tale. Like it came straight from the mind of a creative, innovative Author.
There are too many details to go into in describing that road trip. We ended up in Wyoming that summer and one of our vans got into an accident that essentially brought all of us who had been familiar acquaintances closer together. Aimee and I truly became best friends. Nate and I became like brother and sister. And Joe and I almost started dating then. All I can say is that he was a flirt. And one day during lunch apparently Aimee had asked him if he and I were going to be the next church couple. To which he replied, "maybe."
Neither of us were anywhere close to ready to date at that point. We were just 16 and had never been in relationships before and barely knew anything about the opposite gender. But that's when my crush formed and it never ended. Even when I became so upset that I ended our friendship. Even the countless times we drew boundaries in our friendship because we didn't want to spend so much time by ourselves. Even when he told me that he didn't like me as any more than a friend. Even when I started to like another guy and told him I was over him. I lied to myself. And for whatever reason, he started liking me as more than a friend.
Because of all that we've been through as friends it's still hard to believe that we're more than friends. Almost every day I'm in awe of the fact that we are dating, hopefully on our way to marriage someday. It is surreal. As if one day the guy I had a crush on tries to make me not like him, and then the next I wake up and he thinks I'm absolutely captivating. I feel like pinching myself because it feels so much like a dream.
I'd like to think that this is what God has intended for me all along. Every relationship should feel like the best dream ever. And every day you should truly be excited to wake up to the reality that you are with the man of your dreams. This is my fairy tale. Like it came straight from the mind of a creative, innovative Author.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
The beginning...
On the holiday of Saint Valentine's day with the focus on love, I decided I would talk about my relationship. In two weeks will be mine and Joe's 2 year anniversary. However, our relationship began a long time before that. We'd been friends for 5 years before we started dating. And that's pretty much when I developed a crush on him too. The other day I went way back and remembered a memory I had forgotten about. The day that Joe and I met.
Every summer our church goes on a one week mystery road trip across the country. This began, what? More than ten years ago? Something like that... And every summer during my high school years I went on this mystery road trip. The parents and adult leaders get to know where you go, but the youth in youth group don't get to. The summer after my ninth grade year I really didn't have any friends in my youth group, so going on a one week trip with people I didn't know was quite frightening. But my goal was to meet people and make friends.
That road trip we went to Michigan and worked at many service projects along the way, including a Habitat for Humanity home and a nursing home. During the Habitat project is when I met my best friend and sister Aimee. Later that week our group ended up going to a bowling place. Aimee and I played a game of pool in the meantime. Aimee was already acquainted with and friends with Nate, who came to join us. And because of Nate, Joe came to join us, who Aimee was also already friends with. That was the very first time that Joe and I were formally introduced. These three people would become my best friends in high school.
Now I've always been one of those girls who if a boy stares at her for too long, she thinks they like her. I've had crushes on way too many boys because of this. On the very last day of our trip, our group spent the night in some quiet time with God, reading our Bibles and reflecting on the trip. At one point during my quiet time I just happened to look up and notice that Joe was staring at me. For whatever reason- he was searching for someone else, his eyes just happened to land on me at that exact moment, he actually was staring at me- our eyes met. And I thought that maybe I would give this guy a chance. The following summer on road trip is when we became best friends and I developed a real crush on him. That lasted 5 years and beyond.
There is a disclaimer that goes along with this story. I had a crush on my best friend for 5 years before we started dating. There were so many times when I realized that I should just give up and look for someone else. The pain and heartache is not worth it. Joe was hell-bent on making me not like him. It hurt, a lot, and I wished I had just let go of that friendship because I knew that we could never be just friends. I liked him too much and in order for me to stop liking him, we needed to not hang out all the time.
My story is a very unique one. And for whatever reason, God kept us hanging on and developed more than just a friendship. But it took 5 years to get there. I do not, by any means, promote girls getting their hopes up in a boy they have a crush on who doesn't like them back, thinking that someday (five years down the road) that he'll end up liking her back. Highly unlikely. There is probably another guy out there waiting to make you his princess. But you need to let go of the guy you are enamored with in order to find him.
I love my boyfriend very much and as my story is a minority, I need to make it clear that it wasn't easy. It's still not easy. But he is my best friend. And this relationship still feels so surreal. Is this actually happening? He holds me and whispers affirmations to me every 5 minutes and comforts me and knows the look on my face and accepts my crazy playfulness. He makes me laugh and tells me he loves me every time we talk. He makes me feel important, like I'm the only girl in the world, his girl.
So, on this day of commercial advertisement of love, I shared with you my love story. There's more to it, and in the coming weeks leading up to our two year anniversary I'll share more of our story. And know that neither Joe nor I condone Valentine's Day as the only day to celebrate. We declare our love every day.
Every summer our church goes on a one week mystery road trip across the country. This began, what? More than ten years ago? Something like that... And every summer during my high school years I went on this mystery road trip. The parents and adult leaders get to know where you go, but the youth in youth group don't get to. The summer after my ninth grade year I really didn't have any friends in my youth group, so going on a one week trip with people I didn't know was quite frightening. But my goal was to meet people and make friends.
That road trip we went to Michigan and worked at many service projects along the way, including a Habitat for Humanity home and a nursing home. During the Habitat project is when I met my best friend and sister Aimee. Later that week our group ended up going to a bowling place. Aimee and I played a game of pool in the meantime. Aimee was already acquainted with and friends with Nate, who came to join us. And because of Nate, Joe came to join us, who Aimee was also already friends with. That was the very first time that Joe and I were formally introduced. These three people would become my best friends in high school.
Now I've always been one of those girls who if a boy stares at her for too long, she thinks they like her. I've had crushes on way too many boys because of this. On the very last day of our trip, our group spent the night in some quiet time with God, reading our Bibles and reflecting on the trip. At one point during my quiet time I just happened to look up and notice that Joe was staring at me. For whatever reason- he was searching for someone else, his eyes just happened to land on me at that exact moment, he actually was staring at me- our eyes met. And I thought that maybe I would give this guy a chance. The following summer on road trip is when we became best friends and I developed a real crush on him. That lasted 5 years and beyond.
There is a disclaimer that goes along with this story. I had a crush on my best friend for 5 years before we started dating. There were so many times when I realized that I should just give up and look for someone else. The pain and heartache is not worth it. Joe was hell-bent on making me not like him. It hurt, a lot, and I wished I had just let go of that friendship because I knew that we could never be just friends. I liked him too much and in order for me to stop liking him, we needed to not hang out all the time.
My story is a very unique one. And for whatever reason, God kept us hanging on and developed more than just a friendship. But it took 5 years to get there. I do not, by any means, promote girls getting their hopes up in a boy they have a crush on who doesn't like them back, thinking that someday (five years down the road) that he'll end up liking her back. Highly unlikely. There is probably another guy out there waiting to make you his princess. But you need to let go of the guy you are enamored with in order to find him.
I love my boyfriend very much and as my story is a minority, I need to make it clear that it wasn't easy. It's still not easy. But he is my best friend. And this relationship still feels so surreal. Is this actually happening? He holds me and whispers affirmations to me every 5 minutes and comforts me and knows the look on my face and accepts my crazy playfulness. He makes me laugh and tells me he loves me every time we talk. He makes me feel important, like I'm the only girl in the world, his girl.
So, on this day of commercial advertisement of love, I shared with you my love story. There's more to it, and in the coming weeks leading up to our two year anniversary I'll share more of our story. And know that neither Joe nor I condone Valentine's Day as the only day to celebrate. We declare our love every day.
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