Brothers

That was the word that kept ringing in my head today.

Just as I am learning there are vital things that we as women fail to offer the world when we refuse to be all of the person God created us to be, and that the world suffers because it only sees one half of the image of God when women shrink back and remain on the sidelines…

I am beginning to see . . .

No. Rather,

I am beginning to appreciate the uniqueness that males have to offer.

There is a perfect balance that exists between men and women. Men need women and women need men. This is something many of us try to ignore, deny or disprove.

Every time I choose to invite guys into my life, I am relinquishing more of a prideful independence that has said for so long, I don’t need you and I’m better off without you.

But this is not true.

There is something women are/bring/do that is desperately needed
And there is something men are/bring/do that is desperately needed.

Neither gift is greater or lesser than the other, but they are both things that have to be given.

For example, today I had some of my guy friends help me move.

For me to even ask for help solely from guys especially is a big deal. But these are guys that are truly brothers to me and that I felt totally free in asking and knew they would be willing to serve.

I had everything boxed up, lined up, ready to go, I knew which furniture was leaving, I knew what all had to go, but ultimately I had no idea where to start or what I was doing. But this is where the uniqueness factor kicks in. the guys were totally in their element and I could allow them to do their thing.

It was a really cool thing. Humbling but also beautiful.

I have been learning a lot about the beauty of limits. Sometimes we think we’re super-human, but the thing is, we ARE human, and therefore, we must accept that there are limitations to what we are and what we can actually do.

There is no possible way I could have moved all the stuff out on my own. Or even if I had gathered a group of girls. No offense and not to be sexist because I think we all know I’m all about empowering women, but there is no way on God’s green earth that I would have been able to fit that much stuff in the bed of a truck or know what to put in next.

It was like the guys were speaking some secret language. They knew where to go, which piece of furniture to put in next, I was like, I’ll just load my car with boxes lol.

But part of the cool thing, is I didn’t HAVE to be good at that. This is what is great about limits. We all have different limitations, which is why we all need each other to a degree. If I hadn’t had the need to get my stuff moved out, I wouldn’t have had to ask them. Yet it was something they were stronger in than I was.

I saw something today that I needed to see and experience and felt truly blessed. This has actually been a process about 3-4 years in the making. A slow demolition of all the walls I’ve had in place, particularly with males, as God has been restoring my view of men and bringing men in my life that I am blessed to have as friends or in the cases of my pastors, mentors as well as friends. Fortunately, days like today are not rare, there have been several times in the last year, few months, weeks where I could see more glimpses of the beauty in how we were created, men and women, different and unique, but complementary and together more effective.

This is what it means to be family.
This is what it means to have brothers...
... godly men who know and fear the lord, who love Him and walk with Him daily.

Amen.

* photo courtesy of katie barnes photography

but hope that is seen is no hope at all

But hope that is seen is no hope at all.
Who hopes for what he already has?
But if we hope for what we do not yet have,
we wait for it patiently.
Romans 8:24-25

Listening With Our Wounds

"To enter into solidarity with a suffering person does not mean that we have to talk with that person about our own suffering. Speaking about our own pain is seldom helpful for someone who is in pain. A wounded healer is someone who can listen to a person in pain without having to speak about his or her own wounds. When we have lived through a painful depression, we can listen with great attentiveness and love to a depressed friend without mentioning our experience. Mostly it is better not to direct a suffering person's attention to ourselves. We have to trust that our own bandaged wounds will allow us to listen to others with our whole beings. That is healing."

:: Henri Nouwen

the art of listening

From NACR:

Listen carefully to my words, let this be the consolation you give me. Job 21:1

"Listening should be easy. But it is not. At a minimum, listening means that we have to be quiet. We cannot listen when we are talking. Not talking is the hard part. There are many reasons for this. We prefer talking over listening because it gives us a sense of control. We can control the silences between words by choosing when to talk. Since silences of even a few seconds can cause our anxiety to increase, we fill the silence with words even when we really have nothing to say.

It is a remarkable experience to have someone really listen -- to have someone's undivided attention and interest. When someone listens, they communicate to us on a very deep level that we are valuable. Their listening breaks our isolation and aloneness. And it decreases the fears which come when our thoughts and feelings are confused. Talking out loud in the presence of a person who listens carefully allows us to gain clarity and perspective. Gradually, being listened to can begin to convince us that we are worth someone's attention and worth being loved.

When someone listens with respect and acceptance we are comforted and consoled. Our pain is soothed. Our burden is lightened.

Thank you, Lord, for those who listen to me.
And thank you for the people who trust me enough to allow me to listen to them.
Give me the courage to talk honestly.
Give me the grace to listen well.
Amen."

- From the National Association of Christian Recovery

if any of you is without sin...

So, cleaning out old emails from the last month, going through all the recovery emails I hadn't opened yet, a daily devotional I get from the National Association for Christian Recovery (NACR). They are also so spot on and these people really know the reality of the recovery process. I especially loved this one. I feel the recovery process I went through last semester was huge in that it was like holding up a large mirror to myself... it brings an self-awareness that is startling in its clarity, yet critical for your healing. It also changed a lot of how I feel about this issue below and why judgmentalism is such a hot button issue for me now. I have never been more aware of my sin, brokenness and depravity and it has drastically changed how I view others in sin, brokenness and depravity and because of this, it really gets under my skin when judgmentalism surfaces.

From NACR:

If any one of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone at her. John 8:7

It is easy to judge other people. Judgmentalism and blame come naturally to us. Other people's faults and failures are not difficult to identify. Many of us can remember a time in our lives when throwing the first stone was not just easy - it was what we thought good Christians were supposed to do.

One of the most dramatic changes which takes place early in the recovery process is an increase in self-awareness. We begin to see patterns in our own lives that need changing. We see our own self destructive tendencies. We see how we have brought pain to others. As these insights dawn on us, we begin to lay down our stones.

Of course, as our self-awareness increases, many of us attempt to refocus the blame and judgmentalism from others onto ourselves. We can blame and judge ourselves as ruthlessly as we may once have blamed and judged others. But it's not really progress in recovery to give up throwing stones. . and then start banging our heads against a stone wall.

Judgmentalism and blame are not helpful in recovery. What makes recovery possible is when increased self-awareness leads to an increased capacity to experience forgiveness. Gradually we learn to accept forgiveness from God and others. We receive mercy. As a result, we begin to treat ourselves and others with mercy.

It is increased self-awareness and the humility which self-awareness makes possible that are the soil in which true community can grow. When we accept ourselves as humans even though we struggle and sometimes fail, we can become far more gentle with ourselves and with others.

Lord, you know how quick I have been to throw stones. Thank you for the self awareness that has allowed me to see more clearly that I am not without sin. I know that I am in need of forgiveness. Give me the courage to accept your forgiveness and mercy and in this way begin to live in true community Amen.

Baggage

Some of us have more baggage than others. Lol seriously though, I have felt like I was in the filming of a Rob Bell video, carting around and hauling all of this trash in my car, making multiple trips outside, lugging around trash and that soon it would cut from me to his narrative on the baggage in a different sense. It has almost been too ridiculous to believe.

I have felt, well I have been literally surrounded by STUFF for the last few days. Above is the mountain of "good will" as we called it.

I have had 6 car loads of junk to throw away. 1 car load to Goodwill. The trash to my brother’s apartment dumpster.

FIVE FULL CAR LOADS OF TRASH

That is insane!

The packrat has died.

But at the same time it has felt really good to get rid of that much stuff.

And the fact that I have to be out of my current place by 5 pm July 28th but can’t move in to my new place till noon Aug.1st has forced me to not do what is usually what happens when you move across time. You move a little at a time here and there.

I have everything boxed up as if I’m really moving somewhere lol.

It feels great to have gotten rid of so much junk.

The garage alone took me all of Friday night. I don’t know where the motivation came from, but it was a riot.

I cannot believe how much junk was in there.

Mostly it is because I have been here for three years and wasn’t intending on leaving anytime soon. it’s been my home since after college, so when I graduated I moved everything that was at my parent’s house during college while I was at other apartments into this place. In the garage.

So that’s right. Everything I own has been here.

I’ve been finding things from high school. Papers from college. Some of this stuff I’m like seriously, when did I think I was going to go back and read this or want this.

I became ruthless.

I obviously hadn’t touched the stuff fin 5 plus years, so I wasn’t going to in the future.

Same with clothing. Getting rid of clothes has probably been the best part. Giving away clothes to girls I know who will appreciate them and then giving the rest away to Goodwill.

Everything that’s in the boxes out here is stuff I need.
I don’t want to touch another piece of trash again.

Lol.

Today I cleaned under my bed.
Another yikes.

I have learned my lesson.

The packrat has to die.

Anytime I think “I might want this someday” that’s now going to be a future indicator that I just need to get rid of it.

Phew.

After several hours of packing, throwing out more stuff I'm keeping and getting rid of, I decided that this just ain't right.

But I treated myself to my favorite Mexican place tonite, Rio Grande and then got ice cream and ran errands with one of my friends. It was good to be around something that wasn’t a trash bag or a box :)

Tomorrow is moving day, part 1, taking everything from here to my parent’s house. Then part 2 is Saturday, taking it from their house to my new place, woo hoo!!!

Our hearts were made to worship

Worthy is the Lamb| who was slain | Holy holy is he | Sing a new song | To him who sits on | Heaven’s mercy seat… Holy holy holy | Is the lord god almighty | Who was and is and is to come | With all creation I sing | Praise to the king of kings | You are my everything | And I will adore you…

- Revelation Song

This week has been a week of relying on the lord for everything and I do mean everything.
It has been amazing.
This week has been crazy busy. The heat turned up. Running a million miles an hour. life has felt like a blur at times. Yet I feel I have a deeper understanding of the words “his peace is like a river” and it is “Christ who strengthens me.”

This type of reliance brings the Father’s heart so much delight.
It’s so uncomfortable at times to us humans
But it is so divine.

To experience a grace that carries.
A grace that sustains.
To experience a different picture of who the Son is
And be amazed at His beauty.

Sing a new song | To Him who sits on | Heaven’s mercy seat…

This has been getting me from the inside out
Just thinking about our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
He has been revealing Himself to me in powerful ways.
In the midst of the busy and in moments of stillness.

This week brought a lot of revelations that have been really affecting me in 2 Corinthians. I remember a few moments before church on Thursday, going back over those powerful words and seeing more of His radiance. More of His glory.

I felt so free entering church that night. I was so excited about Him being in my life.
And who Christ is.

I felt so free to worship

There are times you can just see him more
Where the most real thing you cannot see with your eyes

But you see the most beautiful image
Too amazing to comprehend

You’re wrapped in arms of love

Burning from an intense gaze
Of adoration

From the one you are worshiping

There are sheer moments
Of pure and utter delight

When every fiber of your being
Agrees
With the words you are singing

As it is the most appropriate and only expression of all that you feel
And all that you are

Our hearts were made to worship

You are my everything
And I will



Adore you…

Revelation Song

We worshiped through this song Thursday night at The Rock’s Praise, Worship and Communion and it was powerful. And I really liked how the band took this song and made it their own. This song has taken on new meaning for me as a result of where I was at that night and ways the Lord has been revealing Himself to me. By His grace we are able to worship Him and see Him in those moments, for all that He is, and get another glimpse at the weight of His glory. Too magnificent to even comprehend.

streams in the desert: the kind of patience that waits for hope

I really shouldn't be surprised. Since this has been happening so often. But yet again, another devotional, this one from today, that encompasses a variety of the lessons I'm being taught right now through a variety of circumstances in varying degrees in my life. This week, I remember really wrestling with having to go on that desert road once again, without knowing, without having the hope yet. I love what this speaks to, that the type of patience that is required to travel roads like this isn't anything we can muster on our own, but accepting God's will, accepting the roads we don't even know if they will bring daylight again, requires a strength and a grace that comes straight from the Father. I recently heard a man in his 60s share that he often prays, "Lord Jesus, please share your faith with me, for I have none left." Wow.

From Streams in the Desert:

By faith we eagerly await through the Spirit the righteousness for which we hope. (Galatians 5:5).

"There are times when everything looks very dark to me—so dark that I have to wait before I have hope. Waiting with hope is very difficult, but true patience is expressed when we must even wait for hope. When we see no hint of success yet refuse to despair, when we see nothing but the darkness of the night through our window yet keep the shutters open because stars may appear in the sky, and when we have an empty place in our heart yet will not allow it to be filled with anything less than God’s best—that is the greatest kind of patience in the universe. It is the story of Job in the midst of the storm, Abraham on the road to Moriah, Moses in the desert of Midian, and the Son of Man in the Garden of Gethsemane. And there is no patience as strong as that which endures because we see “him who is invisible” (Heb. 11:27

It is the kind of patience that waits for hope.

Dear Lord, You have made waiting beautiful and patience divine. You have taught us that Your will should be accepted, simply because it is Your will. You have revealed to us that a person may see nothing but sorrow in his cup yet still be willing to drink it because of a conviction that Your eyes see further than his own.

Father, give me Your divine power—the power of Gethsemane. Give me the strength to wait for hope—to look through the window when there are no stars. Even when my joy is gone, give me the strength to stand victoriously in the darkest night and say,

“To my heavenly Father, the sun still shines.”

I will have reached the point of greatest strength once I have learned to wait for hope. George Matheson.

Strive to be one of the few who walk this earth with the ever present realization—every morning, noon, and night—that the unknown that people call heave is directly behind those things that are visible."

- From the best devotional out there, Streams in the Desert :)

letters from paul

Why 2 Corinthians rocks.

These chapters have really hit me lately and affected my life in profound ways in the last week. "The word of God is living and active..."

2 Corinthians 2:15-5:7 (New International Version)

15For we are to God the aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing. 16To the one we are the smell of death; to the other, the fragrance of life. And who is equal to such a task? 17Unlike so many, we do not peddle the word of God for profit. On the contrary, in Christ we speak before God with sincerity, like men sent from God.

2 CORINTHIANS 3

1Are we beginning to commend ourselves again? Or do we need, like some people, letters of recommendation to you or from you? 2You yourselves are our letter, written on our hearts, known and read by everybody. 3You show that you are a letter from Christ, the result of our ministry, written not with ink but with the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone but on tablets of human hearts.

4Such confidence as this is ours through Christ before God. 5Not that we are competent in ourselves to claim anything for ourselves, but our competence comes from God. 6He has made us competent as ministers of a new covenant—not of the letter but of the Spirit; for the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life.

The Glory of the New Covenant

7Now if the ministry that brought death, which was engraved in letters on stone, came with glory, so that the Israelites could not look steadily at the face of Moses because of its glory, fading though it was, 8will not the ministry of the Spirit be even more glorious? 9If the ministry that condemns men is glorious, how much more glorious is the ministry that brings righteousness! 10For what was glorious has no glory now in comparison with the surpassing glory. 11And if what was fading away came with glory, how much greater is the glory of that which lasts!

12Therefore, since we have such a hope, we are very bold. 13We are not like Moses, who would put a veil over his face to keep the Israelites from gazing at it while the radiance was fading away. 14But their minds were made dull, for to this day the same veil remains when the old covenant is read. It has not been removed, because only in Christ is it taken away. 15Even to this day when Moses is read, a veil covers their hearts. 16But whenever anyone turns to the Lord, the veil is taken away. 17Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. 18And we, who with unveiled faces all reflect[a] the Lord's glory, are being transformed into his likeness with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.

2 CORINTHIANS 4

Treasures in Jars of Clay

1Therefore, since through God's mercy we have this ministry, we do not lose heart. 2Rather, we have renounced secret and shameful ways; we do not use deception, nor do we distort the word of God. On the contrary, by setting forth the truth plainly we commend ourselves to every man's conscience in the sight of God. 3And even if our gospel is veiled, it is veiled to those who are perishing. 4The god of this age has blinded the minds of unbelievers, so that they cannot see the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God. 5For we do not preach ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, and ourselves as your servants for Jesus' sake. 6For God, who said, "Let light shine out of darkness,"[b]made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ.

7But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. 8We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; 9persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. 10We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. 11For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus' sake, so that his life may be revealed in our mortal body. 12So then, death is at work in us, but life is at work in you.

13It is written: "I believed; therefore I have spoken."[c]With that same spirit of faith we also believe and therefore speak, 14because we know that the one who raised the Lord Jesus from the dead will also raise us with Jesus and present us with you in his presence. 15All this is for your benefit, so that the grace that is reaching more and more people may cause thanksgiving to overflow to the glory of God.

16Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. 17For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. 18So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.

2 CORINTHIANS 5

Our Heavenly Dwelling

1Now we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands. 2Meanwhile we groan, longing to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling, 3because when we are clothed, we will not be found naked. 4For while we are in this tent, we groan and are burdened, because we do not wish to be unclothed but to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life. 5Now it is God who has made us for this very purpose and has given us the Spirit as a deposit, guaranteeing what is to come.

6Therefore we are always confident and know that as long as we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord. 7We live by faith, not by sight.

-- 2 Corinthians 2:15-5:7 (New International Version)

Wow.

zero is the new two?

pt. II to the previous post, reflections a month later

I will never be a size 0 again.

What a freeing admission

Who is a size 0 anyway? I mean honestly lol.

"I haven’t been a 0 since I was like 4 years old," one of my friend’s exclaimed as I told her the news today.

Of how good it felt to clean out my closet and not feel bad at getting rid of clothes that no longer fit or hoping that I would someday fit into them again, they were a part of the past. I was no longer that size, nor did I desire to fit into some of those clothes again.

What? Why am I suddenly okay with this? Is this the same me talking?

Something about that was freeing.

:::

I’ve been really open about this recently because that’s the only way I can fight it.
A battle I have had to fight tooth and nail in the last several months, determined not to let the Enemy get a foothold and lie to me about my worth again.

It is crazy to see where I was with all of this a month ago. Probably the lowest point was the night before Chris and Aimee’s wedding. A situation and series of emotions I chronicled in the previous post, where I was really afraid, after not finding dresses in my closet that fit or fit how they once did, and feeling utterly detestable and utterly fat.

I’ve been exposing this for all that it is. By talking about it and praying about it and processing it with God, I feel like He’s bringing me through the stages typically found in the grief process, which are typically present when we're experiencing a significant change in our lives other than things you would typically associate with grieving.

First there’s feelings of shock-surprise-denial- abandonment
Then anger
Then sadness
Then acceptance.

I have been in the first three phases since about December, when the first shocking realization came and I went to put on dress pants that were once loose, pants I wore about once a week in my old office job I quit in September, that were now… tight. I talked about this situation in the last post as well, but will never forget that feeling.

The last case of this was going shopping for a number of things, mostly a pair of shorts before leaving for Colorado, as there were no shorts in my closet that fit well and I had to face it sometime.

I called three of my close friends either at or shortly after a traumatizing experience at American Eagle.

I picked up a bunch of t-shirts… but didn’t really know what size would look good now. So I grabbed a bunch of sizes. Same with jeans. Same with shorts….

Umm maam, you can only take 8 items in… you know you have like 5 of the same thing, they’re all gonna fit about the same…

YEAH, unless you DON’T KNOW YOUR SIZE.

I felt so humiliated, I couldn’t believe her lol.

Poor girl. She didn’t know, she was just trying to save me the trouble. But it was so frustrating to seriously have no idea what size I was anymore.

Shopping was no longer fun.

I took it for granted that all these years I’ve been roughly the same two-three sizes. I took it for granted I knew what would fit. Now everything was a guessing game.

I could be this size in a shirt, but now this size in jeans. I could be an entirely new size in another pair of jeans. Or a completely different size in shorts.

I felt out of control. I realized what I felt in that moment was a growing loss of control.

I had no control over my body or what was happening and it just about was going to kill me.

I realized talking with yesterday that my life has been one whirlwind of change the last couple months: NOTHING has remained the same…

Everything is changing, I realized. Even my body.

There are times when you just wish one thing in your life was familiar. Or constant. Or normal.

This season of change combined with experiencing these new feelings only made it more complicated.

I did what I normally do on shopping trips, but only this time it was way more time consuming.

I have to try on what I’m looking for in my top 5-6 stores and then make a decision. What once took maybe an hour, 1.5 hrs. tops now took 3 hours.

This is not gonna fly.

Discouraged I left the mall and headed to Old Navy and Macy’s. No luck.

I called another friend, no one carries my size anymore!

Knowing I have a flare for the dramatic, she laughed, which calmed me down, and then asked what was going on.

I love my friends.

I called another friend and was like, I just need to know what normal people wear!

I wanted to know what sizes she wore because she was someone I saw at thin but knew she wasn’t a size 0, so that meant if I’m no longer this size but something else, then I am not automatically fat.

So I called a bunch of friends who I felt were slim but we’ve never worn the same size, to see what “normal” people wore. Because up until now I have been abnormally small.

I liken it to not only do I look young, but I’ve always had the stature of a junior high girl in a 25-year-old body.

I’m still petite, but being able to wear the same clothes you fit into when you were 13 can’t be normal.

So I’m learning this is a healthy weight gain.

Which in actuality I don’t know when it really happened. Because of past struggles, I do not keep a scale in my house, nor have I weighed myself in at least 2 years. So when I did step on the scale to see if my assumptions were true, the reality was I was five pounds heavier.

Five pounds.

That is ridiculous. That is a healthy weight gain. Even I have to accept that. Five pounds in the last 12 years, come on child.

But it does matter.

It changes how we look and how we feel about ourselves.
So it is worth facing and acknowledging.

It’s weird, that day, I went back to American Eagle and bought a size I have never even tried on. Part of this is due to the fact that I buy most of my clothes except skinny jeans a size up because I have never liked really form fitting things, but still I was a little unsettled.

How does someone go from a 0 to this size in a year?! I exclaimed to several of my close friends that night, as I talked with both Kate and Angie on the phone on my way to So You Think You Can Dance?

And Angie told me she’d believe it when she saw it, as I would see her in a few days.

First words out of her mouth, you’re full of crap.

Thanks, Ang, I love you too.

Lol.

:::

But there’s been a lot of things that have led to this “acceptance.”

One thing I first want to speak of is the power of speech.

Henri Nouwen says that our words can speak “life” or they can speak “death.” That words can unite or destroy.

I told one of my guy friends recently that his words meant a lot because one time it slipped. For the third time in a row hanging out, I had picked a "healthy" place to eat instead of the usual choices, so this was enough to raise an eyebrow. Then it slipped, that I was just trying to make "healthier choices" and I admitted I was feeling self-conscious about my new weight. Not that I was going to starve myself or start exercising a ton, but that eating junk food all the time was probably a luxury I no longer had.

What weight? He said. He looked at me seriously puzzled as I fumbled for an explanation.

In order for you to have "put on" weight, one would have had to "have" weight. He countered. I kept trying to build my case.

And what I knew would happen, he gave me an honest answer. One of the things I appreciate about the guys in my life, they are way blunt and honest. If one of my guy friends noticed I had gained weight, they would have no problem saying it.

As I tried to prove it to him, he interrupted me and said he wasn’t going to hear another word.

He said something to me I will never forget, he said it in the purest, most brotherly of ways, he wasn’t hitting on me, he wasn’t making a move. It was the most loving thing, he took a risk and finally blurted out over my arguing...

"You’re a beautiful girl. I cannot wrap it around my mind for the LIFE of me, why the beautiful ones never know that they are..."

He admitted to me he could tell, but that it was a healthy weight gain, however small, you were too thin before, he said.

You’re still beautiful, was what I heard.

He had NO idea what my core fears were surrounding this, he had no idea the depth of brokenness this creating within me, he had no idea that ultimately it came down to that question on the heart of every women, whether voiced or not, yet again,

Do you think I’m beautiful?

After that, I was fine.

I slowly began to accept the “new me.”

I found myself pushing myself to believe what he was saying was true, words that I felt were directly words that God had been trying to say all along.

After that, it was like a non-issue.

I’m still accepted. I remember thinking.

It sounds so superficial, but if you’ve lived this struggle, you know it’s all too real.

It touches on areas of our hearts we never allow to surface. Hits on questions we’re too afraid to ask.

I still find myself trying to accept the new person I see in the mirror, or not recognizing that person as I pass by a mirror, but slowly, this new me is gaining self-acceptance.

This line from the movie "The Devil Wears Prada" has been ringing in my mind, as I realized they were huge barriers, subconsciously that were blocking me from accepting the new me.

Before a photo shoot, they are trying to fit the main character in an outfit and she isn't the typical tiny model they're used to working with. The rack only has sizes two and four. She's a six.

Andy Sachs: So none of the girls here eat anything?
Nigel: Not since two became new four and zero became the new two.
Andy Sachs: Well, I'm a six...
Nigel: Which is the new fourteen.

I remember something within me sighed at relief that I fell within "the standard." But as I'm reconstructing lately, who said this standard was even right or healthy or the goal??

It has been a fight worth fighting and becoming my new ministry.

The more I share openly, the more I get to speak into the lives of other women actively in the same struggle.

The more I share without shame and face reality, the more others are able to name their fears as well. it is a strange thing and a ministry I never thought I’d have. But I love that it breaks down barriers between women, and allows us to relate face-to-face, women-to-women, as real people. With real struggles. Who are fighting not to place their identity in anything but our Lord Jesus Christ. A fight we will engage in the rest of our lives.

But a fight that brings the most glorious and inexpressible freedom.

Today, I feel I walked out of my prison cell.

I don’t know what came over me, but I got motivated to tackle the closest today and wash tons of loads of laundry and try to sell to Plato's Closet as well as give away a bunch of clothes to a bunch of the girls from church that I will never wear again. I love getting hand-me-downs and have benefited from several close friends and mentors giving me tons of clothes when they moved on, I remember always wondering how people had clothes that didn’t fit anymore. Mostly because I had never experienced it, since I hadn’t really grown. But today, there was a joy in being able to get rid of these clothes and bless someone else with them.

Something inside me felt so free.

I had a stack of size 0 jeans, shorts, skirts, and was like, well, we’re not ever seeing those days again, I laughed to myself, but it was okay.

Actually, and strangely enough, it was great.

I like the new me, I found myself thinking. And I remember that day when I was faced with a choice, a choice of what determined whether I was loved or accepted, and a choice that ultimately I had to believe for myself, will I accept the new me or not. Will I accept who God has made me to be or not?

His grace has allowed me to accept that He is making me more “beautifully me” each day and this is a process of which I am not in control. It is stripping me away from the cultural standards of beauty I once felt “accepted” within and forcing me to know and believe my standard of beauty comes from the Lord.

The only One who has the authority to speak into my worth and value, for it has already been decided. Long before I came into being, He saw me and said you are “fearfully and wonderfully made.” Long before any human laid eyes on me, His voice was the one who said, “my delight is in her…” or “I will rejoice over her with singing…” or “how beautiful you are my darling, oh how beautiful…” long before I belonged to anyone, He claimed me and referred to me as the Beloved, and said boasted freely, “you are mine…”

Those are words that speak life.

Words of truth.

That point of to the truth of who we are and all that we are… His. Utterly and blamelessly His.

And words that illustrate we have one God… not many. Not the gods we can create of how we look or how much we exercise or how much we weigh or whether or not we feel desirable or attractive to others, or what size we are… those gods will always disappoint, never satisfy.

He has provided a much better way.
Something more secure. More lasting and substantial.

A living hope.

And this hope as “an anchor for our souls.”

Praise God to who has provided to us a new way, a “living hope.”

One that will never perish, or spoil or fade.

But remain.

wanting to be her

Body Image Secrets Victoria Won't Tell You

Written June 20, 2009:

I wrote this a month ago during a shift at The Shelter and didn't have the courage or the freedom to post this until now. It's really cool to see all that has happened in a month.

*** DISCLAIMER: I’m choosing to share on a very personal topic and express a deeper level of vulnerability than normal on this blog for something personal yet I do so only because these realizations are something God is calling me to live as well as help others know how to wrestle with these same issues and find truth. I’m choosing to share some recent struggles with a very sensitive topic for women as I’m finding openness in this issue with those I talk to and see regularly has been helpful in seeing how this can affect various women. I’m finding many of my recent experiences are battles many women are secretly waging. Alone. And they didn’t know someone else also had that same feeling or same thing happen. Talking about this is helpful for us as women to claim our true identity and to fight the lies we’re constantly told. But if body image or weight is a sensitive subject, please don’t read this. Please also note, I share the sizes only for the sake of clarity, I tried writing it without numbers and it was too confusing, but the sizes are shared not the be "condemning" if you are those sizes or communicated as "the standard" if you are not those sizes. We were each created unique and possess a beauty, each of us, all our own.

:::

who said our image equals our worth?
who determined the cultural standard of beauty that enslaves and drives so many women?
who said that a size 0 is more desirable than a size 10?
who says that you are more beautiful if you are thin?
who started all of this???

:::

It’s a terrible feeling.

When you’re faced with reality and have to reconcile that you’ve changed. That you’ve gained weight and there is no denying it.

It’s a terrible feeling to be getting ready to go somewhere and go through outfit after outfit, trying to find something in your closet that fits and coming up short. Things that never used to be a problem, suddenly you can’t wear.

I realized part of why this is so scary is that it is an entirely new feeling.

The fact that none of my friends can tell I’ve gained weight, even the ones who are brutally honest with me at all times and think I am making this one up, doesn’t change what I know to be true – clothes that fit before no longer do.

I don’t get much sympathy here, but here me on this one, I guess I took for granted the fact that I have been roughly the same weight and size since junior high. If I still liked those clothes, I could wear some of them.

I’m used to being able to pick things out from four-five years back even and put it on and be on my way.

Those days are over.

And I found a fear, rational or not, that I was getting fat...

:::

Everyone woman has felt this before. Hardly any of us are completely at peace with our body image, but for most of us it has something we’ve accepted and that doesn’t have a hold on us emotionally.

Till I realized I was really bothered by this and didn’t like the new me.
I didn’t like the way clothes were fitting.
I feared I would keep gaining weight and be a balloon.

But then I had to ask, what’s wrong with being fat? I had to make myself go there, what would be a problem with me being “fat?” Why is this such a fear?

And the worst part is that weight is one of those things everyone can see. I found myself joining a league of women who have struggled with their body image and conversations that I never really entered into. Even the title of this post, Wanting to be her was a book that’s been passed around in our church for years that I had heard about but would recommend to girls but couldn’t say I’d read because I’d never struggled with my body image in this specific way. I have to a degree in my past but that was a different struggle, though somewhat related. I used to struggle with the fear of becoming fat but that issue was more of one of control and a coping mechanism I once relied on in the past that related to body image. After several years of being free from that, my body image hasn’t been a struggle, in fact, God has given me tremendous freedom in this area and I have for the first time felt comfortable with who I am and how I look. Until recent discoveries.

But these realizations were affecting me more than I understood why.

I just had to stop and ask myself,

Mazvita, what does this have to do with who you are? What does this have to do with your worth?

When my answer was nearly everything I was shocked.
And admittedly, embarrassed.

We say that inner beauty matters just as much, but outward has to count for something.

We know it’s not true that inner beauty is all that matters, which is why the absence of beauty is something that frightens us to the core.

We inextricably link our beauty with our worth and our value with our desirability with our significance…

We know that anyone who ever told us inner beauty is all that matters was somehow telling us a lie that betrayed our hearts. And all of a sudden we’re fearing we won’t be loved, wanted, cherished, or sought after…

So I beg to ask the question,

Does beauty really matter?

I found more disturbing the fact that I didn’t want to leave the house that night because I felt unacceptable.

Unacceptable to who?
Me.

I found a failure to love and accept myself this way and started feeling depressed. Sometimes we’re the hardest to love. Sadly, this wasn’t the first night. This has happened a few times since this realization and has become something I am learning to fight.

I’ve been pretty open with this struggle with a lot of the younger women I’m around just because I know it is so real for them as well.

And it’s the only way to fight it.

And it’s something I could never relate to. What I feared and have heard from all the older women around me is happening – your metabolism slows down once you hit 25.

Is it the end of the world? I have to ask myself.

What does it REALLY matter.

The answer to this reveals a lot. Whether we’re ready for those answers or not.

Mostly, I find unsettling a growing loss of control that I once felt I had with my weight.

I found myself trying to back peddle and figure out what had gone wrong the first time I went to the closet and picked up dress pants I hadn’t worn since September, and found them tighter than normal. Wait, that can’t be true. These used to be loose.

So I went to another pair of black pants. And another.

I found this most unsettling because I buy clothes about a size up because how I like it to fit, and so now the “loose” clothes… didn’t fit.

Oh.

You really can’t argue with reality and that is part of why it is so hard to swallow.
I was in a funk the whole night and felt everyone could see it.
But this self-focus and self-obsession is not only untrue and entirely ridiculous, yet so real and so valid simultaneously... because it is stranger to no woman.

I felt exposed.

But the worst part about it.

I didn’t feel free.

I went about my night, this has happened now three times since November, but internally I wasn’t free. I was disgusted with myself and didn’t even want to be around people until I got to the bottom of this, but I forced myself to go on as normal.

But I felt something I haven’t felt in a long time, I felt uncomfortable in my own skin. It was an all too familiar emotion.

That night I investigated a range of factors that could have led to the potential weight gain and how I was going to fight it in a healthy way, as I had a long history of not doing so in the past. I wasn’t going to go back to those monsters, so I started devising new plans of how I could manage my weight and take care of my body without being obsessive, compulsive or destructive.

I started looking at what I eat. Things weren’t looking so good. I was one of those people most of my friends and my roommates couldn’t stand – one of those girls who could eat whatever they wanted and never gained weight.

Well those days were over now too.

I can’t eat like I used to – not that I would eat a ton, but it was WHAT I ate – lots of junk food. and I hardly cook. I hardly eat fruits and vegetables. Very smart, I know.

I started dancing more in the last year, but have since determined to run again along with making healthier choices. I’m finding I can take personal responsibility without going over the edge and either not eating or developing bad eating patterns.

Another episode of this happened the last time I was getting ready for a wedding, last weekend. I had borrowed a dress from an old friend, we’ve been the same size dating back to high school and she lives nearby, we see each other from time to time. I would normally try it on at her house, but I couldn’t fathom the embarrassment of it not fitting, so I just told her I didn’t have time to try it on but I would later on that night once I got home.

Get home. It doesn’t fit. How can this be?

Then I go to my closet and the myriad of summer dresses I haven’t worn in a while… dress after dress, either tighter than I’d feel comfortable with wearing or same story. Not fitting.

It didn’t take long for the discouragement to set in. I didn’t even want to go anymore.

Then, I came to my last option. There’s a handful of us girls who are roughly the same size and we have had a great thing going trading clothes over the years. It works out great because everyone gets to wear “something new” from time to time without breaking the bank getting new clothes. This is especially true for weddings, and we’ve been switching dresses about every other wedding. I felt like I was getting kicked out of the “skinny” club as one girl had called it, who lamented how she was jealous that we were all “tiny” and could share clothes all the time. Well, the next day, I was feeling out of the club. One of my friends brought 5 dresses and I was fearing none would work.

I was relieved to find several of the dresses fitting, some not fitting, but the one I really hoped would fit, did.

Then I realized, some of the other girls who were still "little" in my opinion were more of the new sizes I wear now.

So maybe I had a messed up standard before. Why could I personally not accept myself not being whatever size I used to be. Was that size even healthy? And did I expect to stay that size forever?

So I found myself saying, okay I don’t think that they’re fat and they are this size. So that means I am not fat. It sounds ridiculous, but it took seeing the sizes of some of my other friends and seeing that it was okay to not be a size 0 anymore.

:::

Then, ultimately last night, as I realized how clever of a scheme this was. I was getting ready for a BBQ and trying to dig out summer clothes, coming up with nothing and once again felt discouraged. Then I got a glimpse of what else was going on here.

Satan wants us to be so consumed with this that it’s all we think about. Because how we think and feel about ourselves affects everything.

If he can get us so caught up in things like this he knows he has successfully gotten our eyes of the things that do matter.

As Beth Moore says, our hearts are always worshipping something… and worship simply means where our eyes are fixing their gaze…

And we’re always either worshipping God or we’re worshipping something else… Satan loves nothing more than to turn our eyes away… and have us fix our attention, and worship, anything but God.

This is why I’m finding this struggle is such a critical fight.

The enemy wants nothing more than to turn us away from and turn us towards our false gods, the things that we think will give us life, but always run dry.

I’m finding in facing reality, the fact that the weight isn’t really noticeable to anyone around me, and just is probably just getting shifted around, as clothes fit differently but my actual weight hasn’t changed hardly at all, that I have to make a choice.

A choice to believe who I truly am and that value that comes from the only Voice that matters, the one that says I am the Beloved.

The one who determined my worth and value before I was born and the One who says I am fearfully and wonderfully made or if I will be tempted to believe I am less because I feel that way because of how I look now or how I feel others perceive me.

At the bottom of these fears, as women we fear weight gain will make us less beautiful. I will be less desirable or not wanted by men. I will be less beautiful to all the women around me. and no longer be accepted. I will only keep getting bigger. And I will no longer have value.

As Jonalyn Grace Fincher points out, we fall prey to the lie that “If you aren’t beautiful, somehow you’re less good, less valuable.”

:::

Why beauty matters. (More on that subject Fincher pointed out later.)

But the truth is our value doesn’t come from how we look or what others think or feel about us or what we do or how we perform or if we’re accepted or not or if we’re loved.

Our value comes from an unshakable truth from the only voice that matters, that says, you are my beloved. Amen?

There’s a song on the radio lately that I’m absolutely loving.

One line says, there can never be a more beautiful you.

This is such a powerful message to us women.

Instead of wanting to be her

…why don’t we allow God to delight in us as He already is for who we ALREADY are and allow Him to make us the most beautiful “us” more and more each day – inside and out.

Becoming more beautifully… you…

We are beautiful. And this beauty is not as whimsical as we think, it is not determined by the addition or subtraction of a few pounds, it is deeply rooted and planted within by our Creator. We are beautiful first and foremost because we are image-bearers of God. And He is beautiful. Breathtakingly, astonishingly and incredibly beautiful.

Despite what society and culture can pressure us to believe.

Despite how we feel about our own body image or if we do look different.

The enemy will stop at nothing to make us feel like less than who we are and to turn us away from the one true God.

and you are mine.

“In the silence of the heart God speaks…”

i am my beloved’s, her heart dared to say.
and you are mine, was his loving reply.

a declaration and reclaiming of what was once lost. now found, ransomed and redeemed.

I am my Beloved’s...
And you are Mine.

Life of the Beloved

Another thought mentor of mine:
Henri Nouwen

The only book of his I have actually read entirely is Life of the Beloved. I am hoping to read more. I get a devotional of his in my email and I have enjoyed snippets of his books on JR’s blog over the years and already knew I loved the man. And that book is a treasure.

But today, after leaving my favorite spot, I came home to grab some dinner and this book caught my eye on my bookshelf.

I went to my favorite part, a part that was so huge for me when I read it and continues to impact me today, it gave me a new direction for what it really meant to live in the father’s affection and to live in the awareness of the father’s love for me and how that was the beginning and center of what it meant to live a “spiritual life.” This chapter on being "chosen" is one of four of the most important words in the spiritual life he has found, that we are always in the process of being "chosen/taken, blessed, broken and given." More on this later, but chosen in this context, not in predestination matters.

“ ‘Am I really wanted?’

... In the midst of this extremely painful reality, we have to dare to reclaim the truth that we are God’s chosen ones, even when our world does not choose us. As long as we allow our parents, siblings, teachers, friends and lover to determine whether we are chosen or not, we are caught in the net of a suffocating world that accepts or rejects us according to its own agenda of effectivity and control.

Often this reclaiming is an arduous task, a lifelong work because the world persists in its efforts to pull us into the darkness of self-doubt, low self-esteem, self-rejection and depression. And this because it is as insecure, fearful, self-deprecating people that we can most easily be used and manipulated by the powers surrounding us.

The great spiritual battle begins—and never ends—with the reclaiming of our chosenness. Long before any human being saw us, we are seen by God’s loving eyes.

Long before any one heard us cry or laugh, we are head by our God who is all ears for us. Long before any person spoke to us in this world, we are spoken to by the voice of eternal love.

Our preciousness, uniqueness and individuality are not given to us by those who meet us in clock-time—our brief chronological existence—but by the One who has chosen us with an everlasting love, a love that existed from all eternity and will last through all eternity..."

I had a really cool experience with this today. An experience that was too precious and too sacred to be not be guarded and kept. But an experience I will always remember.

I love how Nouwen expresses here so clearly a truth that is so easy to forget, that so often we give away the power to accept us or reject us, or the power to determine our worth to those whom never had the authority to give it in the first place… a power that only rests with our Creator, the maker and lover of our souls.

--Photo courtesy of Katie Barnes photography

My thought mentors

One of my favorite things about my "thought mentors" is that they give me a glimpse into another world.

As I've already noted, one of my favorite quotes, spoken by the character playing C.S. Lewis in the film Shadowlands, "We read so we know we are not alone."

So I am kicking myself but am sure our paths will cross again.

I was at a spiritual retreat directed by a woman who has become one of my most cherished “thought mentors," but didn't actually meet her. I don't get into the whole starstruck thing and the more everyone kept making a big deal about her the more intimidated I felt in actually, you know, introducing myself, so I didn't it. I was blessed to be at a retreat directed by her and where she spoke and am hoping for another opportunity. But, I digress.

Ruth Haley Barton’s writing comes straight from within, straight from within the throes and frustrations of learning how to lead as God created her to lead and how to lead in the context of the local church or a large ministry…

Her words connect so deeply with words deep within, words I may have never found voice to, but words she draws out.

Every chapter I read in this book is sobering.

I cannot describe it any other way.

Sobering in the fact that it always speaks the truth I so desperately need to hear and always immediately calls me to action, sobering in the sense that it reveals more of what God is already doing in my life, trying to teach me or trying to get me to see.

Today, I was sitting in the middle of my favorite spot and finished another chapter, at the end I could not believe it.

From the time of the retreat, where everything she shared just made sense of the last 6 month fog I had just been through but didn’t understand entirely… as I wanted to take notes on her every word because it was resonating so deeply within and words I had only heard the Lord say and confirm to me, yet to hear them voiced was an entirely different story.

Then I found they were all in her book. EXCELLENT.

Then, this last chapter just made sense of the last two weeks.

I don’t know how things like this happen, but I am incredibly grateful.

It would take me months to blog on the lessons from this book because nearly every other line is underlined. I’m hoping to soon, but for now, check out the book for yourself.


Other thought mentors that come to mind off the top of my head at this hour and authors I'd recommend:

Henri Nouwen
Brennan Manning
Maya Angelou
A.W. Tozer
Edwin McManus
C.S. Lewis
Langston Hughes
Mother Teresa
Sarah Sumner
Dan Allender
Jonalyn Grace Fincher
Among many others...

But, Ruth Haley Barton's, Strengthening the Soul of Your Leadership is definitely worth the read and in my top 5 of all time books. I think it speaks to anyone trying to navigate their way in the journey God has them on, leadership in any context, the home, work, church, or not.

--Photo courtesy of Katie Barnes photography

Reign of Love

RUN
I want to run from the very feelings pulling me deeper
To what is real

A life I thirst for
A life I know I was made for and will someday live.

I gotta long way to run.

LONGING
This longing only points to the fact that something is missing.

Something maybe not once had
But something you always...
knew

:::

Tonite I emceed a fashion show at The Intersection, a local nonprofit serving at-risk youth. I had a blast and the kids did such a great job. Yet once again I felt that longing, that tug.

It didn’t come till hours later.

It was a joyous occasion. We had a blast at the event. And a bunch of the organizers and I hung out late into the night.

Till I came home.

That nagging persisted.
Until moments ago when the tears came.

That familiar sense of longing
That agonizing pain of loss

Why is it that the peace that washes over me when a baby rests upon me and falls asleep or a 9-year-old girl rests her head upon my shoulder

Only points to a deeper longing and confirmation of a peace within…
For a moment nothing else exists, the world seems to stand still, a feeling of this is all that matters overcomes me...

That those things are pointing to the larger mission of what I was created for.

A part of me was created for the inner city
A part of me was created to empower women and awaken them to a better life, whether nine years old, 18 or 43 years old
A part of me was created to mother
A part of me was created to love, to nurture, cherish, to hold, to comfort

There is no separating the longing from who I am
In the depths

And so it lingers-

An all too familiar feeling
The moments when you feel most alive.

I found myself just now berating myself for getting attached.
Yet I cannot deny that those kids are uniquely tied to the core of my being
And part of the larger mission God has placed over my life.

I was so proud of those girls tonite.
One of the classes at The Intersection, The Ladies of Elegance, put on the show tonite. The Ladies of Elegance is a class teaching young teenage girls in the “inner-city” or “underprivileged” areas of Columbia what it means to be a lady, that they are ladies, and how to see themselves and treat themselves as such.

It is so central to the core of my being.

And to see these young girls lives and get a glimpse of what they could become. It kills me, yet in the same breath inspires me.

What will you give you life to?
Is the question that haunts me again and again.

As I’m reminded my life is not my own.
And that my story is a part of a much larger and grander and more beautiful story.
The Story of God and that while I’m struggling and pushing Him for the title, He is reminding me gently, He has barely even finished taking me through the page we're currently on. A page that has already been written, but not yet traveled. I try to rush ahead but His wisdom and His sovereignty brings me back to where we are in the book.

I don’t know what the story looks like.
I don’t know how it ends.
I don’t know what role they have in it.
I just know I have to pay attention...

to the things that make my heart leap.

I feel most at home and most at peace and alive, that sense, that feeling of this is what I was created for, in moments like tonite being with those kids. The kids that no one cares to love. The kids hungry for love and attention. Who want to know that they matter and that they too have a place in this world.

:::

The longing persists, but it is about much more than that.
The longing is accompanied by a whole host of questions. Questions I wish not to entertain. Again.

Fearful that they only point more to the depth of the longing, of which I’d forgotten the ache or managed to dull it, or fearful of what facing those questions might mean.

Will I ever be loved? Be a priority to someone?
Be pursued?
Be a mother? A wife? A bride?
When will I live in the inner-city?
Will I live in LA?
Am I called there?

When will I have a romance all my own?
Who is the man you are calling to be in this great adventure with me?
What is he like? And when will our lives cross paths?
Will I have kids all my own to parent?
What does that look like? And when?
Will I live overseas?

I find it utterly absurd yet it makes perfect sense that there could be things and places I long for and haven’t yet known that seem more real to me and more natural than some of the places and things I have even experienced.

It’s like how I felt when I got to Honduras.
The minute I stepped off the plane, it felt like home.

It felt like Africa.
But I have never been to Africa, how could I know…

It was exactly what I know it will feel and be like.
Something in my heart saw home.
Recognized, felt and sensed it deep within.

I long to be loved. To be pursued, sought after. Enough.
I long to be the object of one’s affection. The one that makes their heart stop.
The one they are willing to do anything for. Drop anything for. Lay down their life.

I long to do the same.

But I long to dismiss the thoughts because they could be utterly fiction. It could not be the life I am called to.

I know that is not where true life is found.
I know that is not my source of identity, worth or value.

So why the nagging sense of longing once again?

:::

In the last year, the most dramatic work has taken place as far as the Lord stripping me away of all my false comforts and bringing me into deeper communion with Him.

Where He alone could speak to me about my beauty, worth and value.
Where He alone could show me and allow me to experience what it means to be loved, what it means to be seen, known, pursued, sought after, delighted in, cherished, the object of one’s affection, chosen, held, wanted, desired and adored.

They have been powerful lessons. Lessons continuing to deepen and lessons that will forever stick with me.

At the same time the Lord has undergone a major reconstruction and restoration process in my view of marriage and relationships and of men in general, especially Christian men.

I have more hope than ever for God’s purposes for marriage. I am filled with more hope in the anticipation of one day being called to be a lover, a servant, a life-giver, a wife, an encourager, a life partner, a best friend, and soul mate with the man who most beautifully will reflect the Father’s love to me and I to Him.

Someone to be on an adventure with. Someone to do life with and to serve alongside. Someone to change the world with, one person at a time. Someone who will strengthen and challenge me. Someone who will cause me the greatest joy yet also the deepest hurts. A relationship forged in grace, trust, forgiveness and love. A continual process of repentance and acceptance. A mirror, of which my own sin and brokenness is only further illuminated, yet brought into the light so it can be healed. Someone who God will use in a way no other person will have had access to my life, someone who will deepen my walk with the Lord and allow me to fall more in love with Him as a result, and prayerfully I the same in their life.

I get more excited about the thought of how much he will be worth the wait.
Because now I know the “real”… now that I know what those type of men actually look like, I cannot settle, I am finding myself even more quickly saying no to the counterfeits that come along because they are so much easier to pick out now.

Once you have seen the real, a substitute will never satisfy.
They are no longer illusions.

For that guy, the one who will be worth the wait, is chosen by the Lord. Chosen by One who knows me better than I know myself. Who knows my innermost being. Who knows the type of person and the man He has created for me to more beautifully reflect the Gospel with to this broken world.

My vision of marriage has never been more exciting and alluring to me.

It’s crazy that in this period of the Lord speaking to me so clearly and powerfully about my identity and worth in ways I was never able to hear before, that He has brought along men to show me a new picture of what godly men truly look like, that they do in fact exist, and how I should be treated.

I remember the first example more than a year ago, I told Kate as she picked me up from the airport…

It was more how I felt around him…

I have never felt like that in the presence of a man before.

Woah, I’ve never heard you say that before, I remember her commenting.

I continued..

There was a security in his presence. An overwhelming sense of admiration, acceptance and sheer delight.

I felt free. I felt enough.

For the first time I had the thought, by just the way he looked at me, that I was going to be worth the wait to someone... that not only were they a gift to me, that I would be the one his friends would talk about, that I was a gift in his life...

He had a gentleness that commanded respect.
A strength that was characterized by tenderness.

It was as I was describing him to her I realized, no man has more accurately portrayed Jesus to me.

I recognized it the minute I was around him. And knew that was what I was looking for.

Not necessarily this guy, but a guy who reflects and relates to me in the exact reflection of the way Jesus relates to me in our unique relationship.

There have been several people and several men who I have seen the reflection of God in, but this was different.

This was strangely familiar.

When I experienced that and knew it was real, I began to understand what some of my married friends have explained. Something I thought was cool but probably not something I would be fortunate to experience myself.

That feeling of, this person is the closest reflection of Jesus to me. He relates to me in the exact ways I need to be loved. It directly mirrors the ways in which the Lord loves me and speaks to me. That I will be able to say, "No he’s not perfect, but he is so obviously chosen and hand picked by my Creator, to be my husband."

I cannot wait for this! It's going to be so amazing.
But at the same time I’m know I'm not living for this. I know this isn't all I'm living for.

That's not what my life is about. I've already found that. I know what my life is about. Yet these longings do exist and persist and are real, maybe even desires planted by Him.
Part of me wrestles with the men that have shown me glimpses of the type of man I feel God would choose for me. It only seems to awaken something within I wish would lie dormant.

Or not exist at all.

But that is not the answer either.

I long to be fully alive.

I’m reminded of those wise words, “to be alive is to be broken.”

I’m also comforted by Tozer’s remarks, "Thirsty hearts are those whose longings have been wakened by the touch of God within them."

These longings remind me of my need for my one true source of love. These longings that I hate and despise in one breath, yet am grateful for in the same vein, point me to Him again and again.

Even tonight, the journey traveling these longings took me was unexpected, leading to hope not sorrow. A reality found in facing life and all it’s fullness, not running and shying away from that which we fear.

:::

I don’t have answers to all my questions.
I don’t know why those I wish would pursue me have not.
I don’t know why yet I am most sure my worth coming from Him that in the same breath I am tempted to link my value with their acceptance or rejection of me, I don’t know when that fight will end or if I will ever stop fighting it.

I don’t know why I know I was made for other lands yet am not living there now.
I don’t know when or how.
I don’t know if I will ever live or serve in the inner-city.

I don’t know if the children will come.
I don’t know if I will ever mother kids all my own, or if I will be a mother to many of different walks of life, different nations, tribes and tongues.

I don’t know if the longing for companionship will ever go away, some days felt, some days not, or if it will itself become a lifelong companion.

I don’t know what others are thinking or what I even think about them, if I’m really honest.
I long to be known and to know. To love and be loved, this is what I was created for.

Holy longings, only to be filled by you.
My daily, desperate prayer for the last year, has been a variation of these words,

Come and fill Come and fill Father come and fill me up with you Come and fill Lord Jesus Come and fill Come and fill me with joy Love Peace In your presence I need you now more than never Be near

So this emptiness, once despised, has become a blessing.
If I wasn’t so aware of my need for You, I probably wouldn’t talk to You as much
I probably wouldn’t have to rely on You so much, moment to moment

For each next step of every day

:::

I’m reminded and find a strange sense in being able to relate to her words here though I am far from living the life or having the relationship she had with Jesus,

But Mother Teresa starts No Greater Love with these powerful words and these words were her secret, the life she had was because she knew God’s love and simply lived and relied upon it… day by day, moment by moment. That was it,

“I don’t think there is anyone who needs God’s help and grace as much as I do. Sometimes I feel so helpless and weak. I think that is why God uses me. Because I cannot depend on my own strength, I rely on Him twenty-four hours a day. if the day had more hours, then I would need His help and grace during those hours as well. All of us must cling to God in prayer.

My secret is very simple: I pray. Through prayer I become one in love with Christ. I realized that praying to Him is loving Him.”

Amen.

*Photo by Keith Montgomery of two of my friends, Chris and Aimee Swift, recently married. This is one of my favorite photos and struck me as a beautiful portrayal as I was contemplating the longing for a romance within the Greater Romance and Story we are being invited into.

a grateful heart i give

"Let’s say I interviewed ten people, asking each the same question—'Do you trust God?'—and each answered, 'Yes, I trust God,' but nine of the ten actually did not trust him. How would I find out which one of the ragamuffins was telling the truth?

I would videotape each of the ten lives for a month, and then, watching the videos, pass judgment using this criterion: the person with an abiding spirit of gratitude is the one who trusts God.

The foremost quality of a trusting disciple is gratefulness. Gratitude arises from the lived perception, evaluation, and acceptance of all of life as grace—as an undeserved and unearned gift from the Father’s hand. Such recognition is itself the work of grace, and acceptance of the gift is implicitly an acknowledgment of the Giver…”

:: Brennan Manning, Ruthless Trust

RIZE

UMMMM... just watched RIZE tonight with the ladies and loved it. Not only does it break my heart all over again for those who grow up in the inner-city but also makes me wish I could be there. I think people warned me I'd get teary watching it cause I feel that's why it's taken me so long to get around to watching it. What I love though is the redemption you see in the inner-city... as kids, whether it's South Central LA like in this movie, or here in Columbia, the kids I see at The Shelter or The Intersection, there are always a few that rise up and desire to make something more of their life and create opportunities for those around them to find and outlet for the pain of their situations and have a much different life and find alternatives radically different from the paths others before them in their shoes have chosen.

From IMDB:

"RIZE reveals a groundbreaking dance phenomenon that's exploding on the streets of South Central, Los Angeles. Taking advantage of unprecedented access, this documentary film bring to first light a revolutionary form of artistic expression borne from oppression. The aggressive and visually stunning dance modernizes moves indigenous to African tribal rituals and features mind-blowing, athletic movement sped up to impossible speeds. We meet Tommy Johnson (Tommy the Clown), who first created the style as a response to the 1992 Rodney King riots and named it Clowning, as well as the kids who developed the movement into what they now call Krumping. The kids use dance as an alternative to gangs and hustling: they form their own troupe and paint their faces like warriors, meeting to outperform rival gangs of dancers or just to hone their skills. For the dancers, Krumping becomes a way of life--and, because it's authentic expression (in complete opposition to the bling-bling hip-hop culture), the dance becomes a vital part of who they are. Written by Sujit R. Varma

Documentary film that chronicles the practice of "Clowning" and "Krumping", radical, energetic, and vividly extreme dance forms that have taken on enormous importance for black communities in south-central Los Angeles on many levels: as serious forms of spiritual and artistic expression, as alternatives to gang participation, as a means for knitting social fabric. Various personalities within the dance movements are profiled." Written by Martin Lewison {dr@martinlewison.com}

Here's the trailer: