Many people use the term "lukewarm Christian" when describing someone who is neither completely on fire for God or against Him. They're in the middle. They're neither left nor right. The bible says this type of person is spat out of God's mouth. I mean, nobody enjoys warm drinking water. It's useless.
There is another type of person to be weary of becoming: the flat coke Christian.
What?
Okay, have you ever bought a cola and you're so excited about opening it, hearing the pssshhhthththttt of the cap turning, the sweet sugary carbonation slipping and soothing your throat, the inevitable "ahh" sound we all make after drinking that perfect soda...but then...as the liquid reaches your tongue, it's FLAT! Oh nooooo. You make that agonizing facial expression and stick out your tongue in disgust.
What a disappointment.
What a let down.
What a flat coke.
Just like nobody wants to drink a flat cola, nobody really wants to be like one either.
Flat coke looks just like a satisfying coke, sometimes it even makes the same sound when you open the bottle, but you know it's flat by its lack of carbonation when you take the time to taste it.
Just like this flat coke, sometimes we as Jesus followers are flat.
We dress the part.
We talk the part.
But we're flat.
We're complacent.
We're really good for nothing.
Often, we even look like we're busy doing important and holy things...but all the while we are really just mimicking and playing the part of a carbonated Christian.
We are doing absolutely nothing for Jesus.
Now hold up hold up...am I saying singing in the church choir or teaching that Sunday school class isn't a good thing?
No way!
But, what are you doing outside that choir loft and beyond those white church room walls?
Here are a few things Jesus DID tell us to do, actually, command us to do:
Deuteronomy 15:10 (NLT)
Give generously to the poor, not grudgingly, for the Lord your God will bless you in everything you do.
Matthew 5:43-44 (NLT)
"You have heard the law that says, 'Love your neighbor' and hate your enemy. [44] But I say, love your enemies! Pray for those who persecute you!
Luke 6:30-31 (NLT)
Give to anyone who asks; and when things are taken away from you, don't try to get them back. [31] Do to others as you would like them to do to you.
Mark 11:25 (NLT)
But when you are praying, first forgive anyone you are holding a grudge against, so that your Father in heaven will forgive your sins, too."
Mark 16:15 (NLT)
And then he told them, "Go into all the world and preach the Good News to everyone.
Love.
Give.
Serve.
Forgive.
Spread the Good News EVERYWHERE.
Love some more.
This is going to step on a few toes, but Jesus isn't impressed that you sit on the front row and get happy clappy on Sunday.
He isn't impressed that your choir can sing Tide on King Jesus in whatever key flawlessly.
He isn't impressed by your JBQ track record or how many lights your sanctuary has.
He isn't flattered by your constant Facebook posts bashing the leadership the King Himself allowed to step into office.
He isn't giving you a slap on the back when you speak out about how much God hates the gays (He doesn't by the way).
He isn't thrilled by how big your Christmad production is or all the different church functions your organized.
I know, you're hating me right now.
But, I simply can not let you keep thinking you're impressing the Creator of the Universe by being really busy but going nowhere.
Do we all have the call on our lives to be a missionary over seas?
No.
Do we all have the call to get off our big behinds and actually do something for Jesus?
Absolutely.
Often as Christians, myself included, get caught up in how much we can occupy ourselves with inside the walls of our church, we ignore the weak, needy, poor, lost, broken people just down the street.
We become flat coke Christians.
This blog hit me this morning as I sat in my friends' church service.
They didn't have a humongous Christmas display.
They don't have the amount of resources that many power churches tend to have, yet there they were, giving a Christmas gift to every single child in their church.
There they were blessing a family in need with a stage full of gifts.
There they were being run completely by volunteers.
When I asked my friends what they were getting each other for Christmas they replied, "we are giving presents to families in need this year instead."
What? This was incredible to me.
It touched me.
Even more it broke me, because as a child who grew up in church my entire life, I've never known such sacrifice, giving, or humble hearts.
It broke me because I realized many f us have become flat.
We have become superficial and selfish.
We have become stuck up and blind towards the poor.
We would rather complain about food stamps and welfare than go volunteer and feed the hungry.
We would rather be in the spotlight in the Christmas special than behind the curtains blessing the poor.
We have become our worst nightmare.
I want to never reach that place again personally.
I never want to choose my own comfort over the needs of those around me.
I never want to be...flat.
Sunday, December 23, 2012
Flat Coke Christians
Many people use the term "lukewarm Christian" when describing someone who is neither completely on fire for God or against Him. They're in the middle. They're neither left nor right. The bible says this type of person is spat out of God's mouth. I mean, nobody enjoys warm drinking water. It's useless.
There is another type of person to be weary of becoming: the flat coke Christian.
What?
Okay, have you ever bought a cola and you're so excited about opening it, hearing the pssshhhthththttt of the cap turning, the sweet sugary carbonation slipping and soothing your throat, the inevitable "ahh" sound we all make after drinking that perfect soda...but then...as the liquid reaches your tongue, it's FLAT! Oh nooooo. You make that agonizing facial expression and stick out your tongue in disgust.
What a disappointment.
What a let down.
What a flat coke.
Just like nobody wants to drink a flat cola, nobody really wants to be like one either.
Flat coke looks just like a satisfying coke, sometimes it even makes the same sound when you open the bottle, but you know it's flat by its lack of carbonation when you take the time to taste it.
Just like this flat coke, sometimes we as Jesus followers are flat.
We dress the part.
We talk the part.
But we're flat.
We're complacent.
We're really good for nothing.
Often, we even look like we're busy doing important and holy things...but all the while we are really just mimicking and playing the part of a carbonated Christian.
We are doing absolutely nothing for Jesus.
Now hold up hold up...am I saying singing in the church choir or teaching that Sunday school class isn't a good thing?
No way!
But, what are you doing outside that choir loft and beyond those white church room walls?
Here are a few things Jesus DID tell us to do, actually, command us to do:
Deuteronomy 15:10 (NLT)
Give generously to the poor, not grudgingly, for the Lord your God will bless you in everything you do.
Matthew 5:43-44 (NLT)
"You have heard the law that says, 'Love your neighbor' and hate your enemy. [44] But I say, love your enemies! Pray for those who persecute you!
Luke 6:30-31 (NLT)
Give to anyone who asks; and when things are taken away from you, don't try to get them back. [31] Do to others as you would like them to do to you.
Mark 11:25 (NLT)
But when you are praying, first forgive anyone you are holding a grudge against, so that your Father in heaven will forgive your sins, too."
Mark 16:15 (NLT)
And then he told them, "Go into all the world and preach the Good News to everyone.
Love.
Give.
Serve.
Forgive.
Spread the Good News EVERYWHERE.
Love some more.
This is going to step on a few toes, but Jesus isn't impressed that you sit on the front row and get happy clappy on Sunday.
He isn't impressed that your choir can sing Tide on King Jesus in whatever key flawlessly.
He isn't impressed by your JBQ track record or how many lights your sanctuary has.
He isn't flattered by your constant Facebook posts bashing the leadership the King Himself allowed to step into office.
He isn't giving you a slap on the back when you speak out about how much God hates the gays (He doesn't by the way).
He isn't thrilled by how big your Christmad production is or all the different church functions your organized.
I know, you're hating me right now.
But, I simply can not let you keep thinking you're impressing the Creator of the Universe by being really busy but going nowhere.
Do we all have the call on our lives to be a missionary over seas?
No.
Do we all have the call to get off our big behinds and actually do something for Jesus?
Absolutely.
Often as Christians, myself included, get caught up in how much we can occupy ourselves with inside the walls of our church, we ignore the weak, needy, poor, lost, broken people just down the street.
We become flat coke Christians.
This blog hit me this morning as I sat in my friends' church service.
They didn't have a humongous Christmas display.
They don't have the amount of resources that many power churches tend to have, yet there they were, giving a Christmas gift to every single child in their church.
There they were blessing a family in need with a stage full of gifts.
There they were being run completely by volunteers.
When I asked my friends what they were getting each other for Christmas they replied, "we are giving presents to families in need this year instead."
What? This was incredible to me.
It touched me.
Even more it broke me, because as a child who grew up in church my entire life, I've never known such sacrifice, giving, or humble hearts.
It broke me because I realized many f us have become flat.
We have become superficial and selfish.
We have become stuck up and blind towards the poor.
We would rather complain about food stamps and welfare than go volunteer and feed the hungry.
We would rather be in the spotlight in the Christmas special than behind the curtains blessing the poor.
We have become our worst nightmare.
I want to never reach that place again personally.
I never want to choose my own comfort over the needs of those around me.
I never want to be...flat.
There is another type of person to be weary of becoming: the flat coke Christian.
What?
Okay, have you ever bought a cola and you're so excited about opening it, hearing the pssshhhthththttt of the cap turning, the sweet sugary carbonation slipping and soothing your throat, the inevitable "ahh" sound we all make after drinking that perfect soda...but then...as the liquid reaches your tongue, it's FLAT! Oh nooooo. You make that agonizing facial expression and stick out your tongue in disgust.
What a disappointment.
What a let down.
What a flat coke.
Just like nobody wants to drink a flat cola, nobody really wants to be like one either.
Flat coke looks just like a satisfying coke, sometimes it even makes the same sound when you open the bottle, but you know it's flat by its lack of carbonation when you take the time to taste it.
Just like this flat coke, sometimes we as Jesus followers are flat.
We dress the part.
We talk the part.
But we're flat.
We're complacent.
We're really good for nothing.
Often, we even look like we're busy doing important and holy things...but all the while we are really just mimicking and playing the part of a carbonated Christian.
We are doing absolutely nothing for Jesus.
Now hold up hold up...am I saying singing in the church choir or teaching that Sunday school class isn't a good thing?
No way!
But, what are you doing outside that choir loft and beyond those white church room walls?
Here are a few things Jesus DID tell us to do, actually, command us to do:
Deuteronomy 15:10 (NLT)
Give generously to the poor, not grudgingly, for the Lord your God will bless you in everything you do.
Matthew 5:43-44 (NLT)
"You have heard the law that says, 'Love your neighbor' and hate your enemy. [44] But I say, love your enemies! Pray for those who persecute you!
Luke 6:30-31 (NLT)
Give to anyone who asks; and when things are taken away from you, don't try to get them back. [31] Do to others as you would like them to do to you.
Mark 11:25 (NLT)
But when you are praying, first forgive anyone you are holding a grudge against, so that your Father in heaven will forgive your sins, too."
Mark 16:15 (NLT)
And then he told them, "Go into all the world and preach the Good News to everyone.
Love.
Give.
Serve.
Forgive.
Spread the Good News EVERYWHERE.
Love some more.
This is going to step on a few toes, but Jesus isn't impressed that you sit on the front row and get happy clappy on Sunday.
He isn't impressed that your choir can sing Tide on King Jesus in whatever key flawlessly.
He isn't impressed by your JBQ track record or how many lights your sanctuary has.
He isn't flattered by your constant Facebook posts bashing the leadership the King Himself allowed to step into office.
He isn't giving you a slap on the back when you speak out about how much God hates the gays (He doesn't by the way).
He isn't thrilled by how big your Christmad production is or all the different church functions your organized.
I know, you're hating me right now.
But, I simply can not let you keep thinking you're impressing the Creator of the Universe by being really busy but going nowhere.
Do we all have the call on our lives to be a missionary over seas?
No.
Do we all have the call to get off our big behinds and actually do something for Jesus?
Absolutely.
Often as Christians, myself included, get caught up in how much we can occupy ourselves with inside the walls of our church, we ignore the weak, needy, poor, lost, broken people just down the street.
We become flat coke Christians.
This blog hit me this morning as I sat in my friends' church service.
They didn't have a humongous Christmas display.
They don't have the amount of resources that many power churches tend to have, yet there they were, giving a Christmas gift to every single child in their church.
There they were blessing a family in need with a stage full of gifts.
There they were being run completely by volunteers.
When I asked my friends what they were getting each other for Christmas they replied, "we are giving presents to families in need this year instead."
What? This was incredible to me.
It touched me.
Even more it broke me, because as a child who grew up in church my entire life, I've never known such sacrifice, giving, or humble hearts.
It broke me because I realized many f us have become flat.
We have become superficial and selfish.
We have become stuck up and blind towards the poor.
We would rather complain about food stamps and welfare than go volunteer and feed the hungry.
We would rather be in the spotlight in the Christmas special than behind the curtains blessing the poor.
We have become our worst nightmare.
I want to never reach that place again personally.
I never want to choose my own comfort over the needs of those around me.
I never want to be...flat.
Tuesday, December 4, 2012
Condemnation and Car Rides
We've all heard this before: "there is no condemnation in Christ! Tell your past to be gone!"
What? Is this some sort of magic trick? I can just wish my struggles away? I can command my past to flee?
This is a joke.
Jesus doesn't mean that we will never struggle again once we are Christians. He doesn't mean that because we change our life that our old one simply disappears and all the baggage that comes along with it is no more.
No. The past is real. Your struggle is real.
Jesus says "There is therefore now no condemnation for those in Christ Jesus; the old is gone the new has come!"
He doesn't mean, "Well, all the people you've hurt before don't remember that you hurt them and oh that eating disorder you had, I got that all covered you will never suffer from insecurity again."
Jesus knows we will fall.
He knows we will fail.
He knows we might take a small drink again.
He knows we might visit that website again.
He knows we might skip a day of eating again.
He knows we might hurt people again.
He knows we might lash out in anger against our spouse again.
He knows, but He has paid the price of your shame.
He sees His children as the small weak children we are, so desperately in need of grace and rescuing.
Jesus is like the father witnessing his child learn to walk on its own. It's so unsure of everything, yet gets into everything it can touch. It bumps into the precious heirlooms, breaking a few irreplaceable pieces of china along the way. It cries from confusion in its new ability and doesn't understand why dad smacks its hand away from the untouchables. The father helps the child around, holding its hands, steering it from harm, sometimes the stubborn child approaches danger despite its fathers subtle warnings. The child is confident in its own ability to walk straight and ends up face planted into the hard concrete.
The father does not leave the child screaming for help. The father does not pick the child up, spanking and scolding the child. The father does not say, "Son, I told you so! See, you fell now get back up on your own!"
No. No.
The father runs to his child, scooping him up in his arms kissing and cuddling the child into his neck saying, "shhhh...daddy's here. He's here. I know, I know."
We are like this child, learning to walk on our new spiritual legs. We ignore warnings. We trip. We fall. We get beat up.
But my God is not the God that turns His face from one of His children because they fell while learning to walk.
He knows we are weak.
He knows we need a Savior.
He knows we need mercy time and time again.
Sometimes the enemy comes in like a flood and bombards my heart with guilt, shame, fear, confusion.
But my Daddy comes in like a whisper while I'm riding in my car on the freeway.
The rain runs down my front window as I blare my music as loud as I can to shut out every demon that has its eye set on me that day.
My Daddy sits in the passenger seat and touches my face with His Grace and reassurance.
"You are MY daughter, not the daughter of shame. You are MY child, not the child of fear. You are captivatingly beautiful in My eyes, not an invisible insecure girl like you sometimes see. You are strong because I am. You are brave because you are mine. You are mine."
Jesus never promised easy.
He never promised we'd always love the Christian walk and all it entails.
He never promised the world would go soft on us.
He never promised the enemy would stop fighting to entrap our hearts.
Take heart, for He has overcome the world.
Take heart, for He has overcome the addictions only you know about.
Take heart, for you are worth far more than many sparrows.
I know my past is real.
I know my struggle is real.
But I know Daddy's here.
Romans 8:1-4 (NIV)
Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, [2] because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit who gives life has set you free from the law of sin and death. [3] For what the law was powerless to do because it was weakened by the flesh, God did by sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh to be a sin offering. And so he condemned sin in the flesh, [4] in order that the righteous requirement of the law might be fully met in us, who do not live according to the flesh but according to the Spirit.
What? Is this some sort of magic trick? I can just wish my struggles away? I can command my past to flee?
This is a joke.
Jesus doesn't mean that we will never struggle again once we are Christians. He doesn't mean that because we change our life that our old one simply disappears and all the baggage that comes along with it is no more.
No. The past is real. Your struggle is real.
Jesus says "There is therefore now no condemnation for those in Christ Jesus; the old is gone the new has come!"
He doesn't mean, "Well, all the people you've hurt before don't remember that you hurt them and oh that eating disorder you had, I got that all covered you will never suffer from insecurity again."
Jesus knows we will fall.
He knows we will fail.
He knows we might take a small drink again.
He knows we might visit that website again.
He knows we might skip a day of eating again.
He knows we might hurt people again.
He knows we might lash out in anger against our spouse again.
He knows, but He has paid the price of your shame.
He sees His children as the small weak children we are, so desperately in need of grace and rescuing.
Jesus is like the father witnessing his child learn to walk on its own. It's so unsure of everything, yet gets into everything it can touch. It bumps into the precious heirlooms, breaking a few irreplaceable pieces of china along the way. It cries from confusion in its new ability and doesn't understand why dad smacks its hand away from the untouchables. The father helps the child around, holding its hands, steering it from harm, sometimes the stubborn child approaches danger despite its fathers subtle warnings. The child is confident in its own ability to walk straight and ends up face planted into the hard concrete.
The father does not leave the child screaming for help. The father does not pick the child up, spanking and scolding the child. The father does not say, "Son, I told you so! See, you fell now get back up on your own!"
No. No.
The father runs to his child, scooping him up in his arms kissing and cuddling the child into his neck saying, "shhhh...daddy's here. He's here. I know, I know."
We are like this child, learning to walk on our new spiritual legs. We ignore warnings. We trip. We fall. We get beat up.
But my God is not the God that turns His face from one of His children because they fell while learning to walk.
He knows we are weak.
He knows we need a Savior.
He knows we need mercy time and time again.
Sometimes the enemy comes in like a flood and bombards my heart with guilt, shame, fear, confusion.
But my Daddy comes in like a whisper while I'm riding in my car on the freeway.
The rain runs down my front window as I blare my music as loud as I can to shut out every demon that has its eye set on me that day.
My Daddy sits in the passenger seat and touches my face with His Grace and reassurance.
"You are MY daughter, not the daughter of shame. You are MY child, not the child of fear. You are captivatingly beautiful in My eyes, not an invisible insecure girl like you sometimes see. You are strong because I am. You are brave because you are mine. You are mine."
Jesus never promised easy.
He never promised we'd always love the Christian walk and all it entails.
He never promised the world would go soft on us.
He never promised the enemy would stop fighting to entrap our hearts.
Take heart, for He has overcome the world.
Take heart, for He has overcome the addictions only you know about.
Take heart, for you are worth far more than many sparrows.
I know my past is real.
I know my struggle is real.
But I know Daddy's here.
Romans 8:1-4 (NIV)
Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, [2] because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit who gives life has set you free from the law of sin and death. [3] For what the law was powerless to do because it was weakened by the flesh, God did by sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh to be a sin offering. And so he condemned sin in the flesh, [4] in order that the righteous requirement of the law might be fully met in us, who do not live according to the flesh but according to the Spirit.
Monday, October 1, 2012
Bad Hair Days and Eternal Things
Ugh, my hair just never looks right.
Why don't any of my shirts look good on me?
Why is my skin so pale when my friends are tan?
Why do I have no curves?
Why can't I just look like _____ or ______?
Why am I focusing on the physical things and not the eternal things?
Sometimes God gives women a heart check concerning our high emphasis on the physical things and not the eternal things.
To preface this blog, I am by no means saying a woman shouldn't wear make up or fix their hair in the morning or heaven forbid not wear deodorant: I am saying that often as women, we focus all of our attention on how we appear to the world physically versus spiritually.
I am the guiltiest of all concerning this, which is why I felt the need to blog about it. God heart checked me recently on how much I pick His creation a part. It's been drilled into my brain over and over again that "God doesn't make trash," and apparently that's supposed to cure the Christian woman's struggle with self image.
It doesn't.
Every woman has to have an encounter with Christ on this issue to truly realize the magnitude of what a problem focusing too much on physical appearance really is.
It may be when a woman is 15 or 50.
It may be over how she hates her curly stringy hair or how she thinks her breasts are small deflated balloons.
But by golly, every Christian woman will get heart checked by God at some point in their walk and realize, "Wow...have I really been focused on the wrong things this long? Am I really so concerned with the way my thighs look in jeans that I've become consumed with body image and jealousy? What eternal things could I have been spending all this thought and energy on that I've wasted on self pity over my looks?"
Many people do not and may not ever view this as an issue.
I do.
It's very near and dear to my heart when I see a woman, not just a young woman, pick themselves a part piece by piece because they are unsatisfied with their looks.
You may have a thousand people call you beautiful in a day, but if you don't see yourself the way your Creator made you, you will never ever be satisfied or pleased with your reflection.
I'm no genius. I'm no therapist. But I am a young woman who has battled with her physical appearance since adolescence.
God says, "ENOUGH!"
God says, "PEACE!"
My spirit has been checked.
Where have I been making investments mentally?
Have I been focusing on all the things I need to change about myself to be physically appealing and for my flesh to be satisfied with itself too much and not enough on changing what's ugly on the INSIDE?
A bad hair day won't rob you of Jesus, ladies.
A heart that is lost and chasing after physical beauty instead of inner beauty...that mindset will rob you.
It will rob you of your joy, your confidence, your relationships and your true beauty.
Should we take care of the body our Lord gave us ?
ABSOLUTELY.
I love being fit and healthy.
I believe God desires us to be the best we can be in all areas including our health.
Just like we can focus too much on our appearance we can become out of balance and not focus enough.
We should cherish what God gave us and treat it with love and respect.
Will women struggle with confidence?
Yes.
Will Christian women still have days where they just wish they could change this or that about their body?
Yes.
Do we have to live inside the prisons we have made for ourselves concerning broken body images?
NO.
Must we continue to feel like failures because we don't measure up to our idea of perfection physically?
NO.
Make eternal investments.
Focus on being kingdom-minded.
Change the ugly on the inside not what you view as ugly on the outside.
A truly beautiful woman is a meek, modest, confident, humble, gracious, prayed up woman.
| |||
Sunday, July 29, 2012
Loving Jesus and Hating the Church.
"I hate religion."
How many times have we heard this used amongst church goers?
What does this even mean?
I think what people, well I, mean when this is said is...well, more plainly put:
I hate that the CHURCH has become another place of laws and not love.
Ha, I am sure right now you are mentally defending YOUR church.
"Not MY church! We welcome anyone and are all about relationships and loving people!"
Oh, really?
Is your church heavily involved in the culture war?
Oh, really?
Is your church okay with members SUPPORTING Obama?
Wait, let me rephrase that.
Is your church not just okay with that, but do they refrain from rude political comments to democrats?
Oh...well, that's different.
Christians are supposed to be conservative republicans! It's the biblical/American way you know!
No, I DO NOT know.
Oh yeah, back to the main issue.
Does your church welcome GAY people with gracious arms?
Did you hear more about the Chik-fil-a debacle than Jesus this morning?
Oh...but that's different.
Being homosexual is a SIN and gay people are ruining the country and staining the true church and it's values!
Just look at them demanding their rights and stuff.
Ha. Don't make me laugh, church.
The gays are NOT staining the church, you are.
We do not demonstrate love and acceptance.
Did I say to tell the gays that they're right and you AGREE with everything they do?
No.
The gays aren't asking for this either.
They're just asking you to look in the mirror before shoving principles down their throats.
How come I never hear a sermon on gluttony?
How come I never hear a preacher speak on the issue of obesity/overweight members of the church?
Guess what, gluttony is among the same list as homosexuality.
1 Corinthians 6:9-10 - "Do you not know that the wicked will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived: Neither the sexually immoral nor idolaters nor adulterers nor male prostitutes nor homosexual offenders nor thieves nor the greedy nor drunkards nor slanderers nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God." (NIV).
(ouch)
Is this blog strictly about the mistreatment of gays by the "church"?
No.
It's about the root issue here.
The church knows not love or grace.
I know this may, excuse my french, piss some people off, but Jesus would be hanging out with the homosexuals if He walked the earth today.
He would be hanging out with the prostitutes.
He would be hanging out with the potheads.
He would be hanging out with all the people we see walk through the church doors on Sunday, shaking our heads exclaiming, "What are THEY doing here? THEY don't belong here. Do you know what they DO?"
Whoa whoa whoa, she said WHAT?
Yeah, you heard me right.
Jesus hung out with the groups that the church would not touch.
Jesus hung out with the groups the religious leaders pointed their fingers at.
Jesus hung out with the groups the snooty holier than thou church-goers wouldn't share their pew with.
Luke 5:31-32, "It is not those who are well who need a physician, but those who are sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but to call sinners to repentance."
Accept it or not, you're a sinner.
I'm a big ol fat sinner.
I've lied.
I've cheated in life.
I've committed gluttony.
I've been selfish.
I've been greedy.
I've disrespected my parents.
I've been so blinded by my own 2x4 plank in my eye that I couldn't see my own sin but felt led to point out why everyone else shouldn't be worshipping on Sunday morning because they did (whatever sin) last night.
The church should be like a big serving of that mystery meat they serve in the cafeteria lunch line.
It's made of a lot of random ingredients.
It is not up to the church to say what "brand" of sinners should be allowed to worship Jesus.
Liars, prostitutes, gluttons, gays.
Sinners.
Should we sit in our sin and refuse to move from it simply because God is gracious?
No.
Should we refrain from attending the church and praising our King because we are sinners?
No.
Should we EVER tell a person, "You are not welcome in God's house because you are a ______"?
No.
"You, therefore, have no excuse, you who pass judgment on someone else, for at whatever point you judge another, you are condemning yourself, because you who pass judgment do the same things. Now we know that God’s judgment against those who do such things is based on truth. So when you, a mere human being, pass judgment on them and yet do the same things, do you think you will escape God’s judgment? Or do you show contempt for the riches of his kindness, forbearance and patience, not realizing that God’s kindness is intended to lead you to repentance? "
Romans 2:1-4
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
Planes
Planes
I've always been afraid of flying.
When I was little my mother used to give me chewing gum and coloring books to distract my wandering mind from escaping out the plane window, contemplating all the treacherous possibilities of what could come to pass.
Recently, as many of you already know, God has confirmed my call to become a missionary.
So here I am, on the plane to see my best friend, and God has once again whispered His sweet promises to me on this short flight.
When we want something, when we love something, we will take on almost any fear to possess it. We will climb onto a small cheap looking plane filled with strangers, hands shaking and legs cramped up to get to someone we love.
We take risks.
We act out of faith that we will reach our destination.
We become capable of things we once thought were ridiculous and scary and crazy.
No, I'm not really talking about flying today.
I'm talking about taking that leap, that fateful jump into the unknown to do something we want to do so badly.
I'm talking about pure faith;
In yourself, in God and others that will help along the way to make the journey possible.
Im relying on my pilot to get me to my destination safely.
I'm relying that he has had the training necessary to get me where I need to go.
I'm floating thousands of feet in the air with a flimsy oxygen mask and a seat that can supposedly be used as a "flotation device."
I'm sure if my plane caught on fire from here to Charlotte, there'd be no water whatsoever to break the fall.
I'm helpless.
For someone who is a control freak and wants to know what she's doing and when she's doing it for every second of every day months in advance, being out of control is a little difficult to grasp.
I'm the kid that asks the dude controlling the ride at the fair "Hey mister, do I control my own speed?"
Of course the typical buck-toothed sweaty middle aged man looks back at me and laughs, responding: "yeah kid. Sure."
He lied.
I was in third grade and I puked all over that fair ride...glaring at his sweaty face on the way out.
I never ride fair rides ANYMORE.
Getting on a poorly made spinning ride where I have no control over the speed or if my teeth fly out of my head isn't my idea of fun.
I'm the friend that sits outside of roller coasters and says "I'll wait out here for you guys. Have fun."
I'm the girl that says "I don't think that's a good idea. Let's stay home and watch the Golden Girls instead."
But I'm putting myself out there today.
I'm trusting in the faceless pilot I'll never see.
I'm trusting in the engine of the plane that I have no idea the workings of.
I'm trusting in the strangers by the exit door to help me before they help themselves if something were to happen.
I'm trusting in the silent man in seat 10D to help me with my oxygen mask when my fingers are fumbling all over the place.
Im willing to put my life in a human's hand I'll never shake, yet when it comes to putting my life in the Creator of the Universe's hand...I step back and think twice.
I love Jesus so much.
I am so in love with Him and His grace.
I am so beyond head over heels in love with the people God has called me to love and know and share of God's mercy to.
But I am afraid.
I have little faith.
I question much and trust little.
My fear to put my trust in Jesus and to rely on him to be my Pilot is so very scary.
God is the "faceless Pilot" at times.
Sometimes I find myself asking God for a resume of experience and a list of prior knowledge.
I find myself interviewing the Maker of the stars to see if He's "qualified" enough to fly this plane.
I've been the pilot for so long, I'm not sure if I'm ready to hand the controls over to Him.
I say "What if...?"
God says "trust in Me."
I say "Can I control how fast this goes?"
God says "let Me take over."
I say "I am afraid of what I can not know or control."
God says "Fear not!"
I say "Can we do this my way?"
God says "not your will but Mine!"
Who am I, Lord?
Who am I to question the Artist of the Heavens?
Who am I to set foot on Your mission field with so little faith?
Who am I to possess Your love?
Who am I to be touched by the hem of Your grace?
I am nobody.
It's funny how God uses the simple things to communicate the difficult things.
It's funny how God uses small people to show how big He is.
I'll never understand why God has picked someone so low and doubting.
I'll never understand why God is willing to continuously prove Himself faithful over and over with such grace.
God does not owe me explanation or proof.
God does not owe me my demands.
God does not owe me His resume.
God owes me nothing because I am nothing.
But God gives me everything because He is everything.
He is a merciful and gracious God that longs for my heart even more than I do for His, yet He still pursues it all the more.
Friday, June 22, 2012
A Far-fetched Dream; A Close-Hearted Calling
We all have dreams; silly dreams, bad dreams, good dreams, vivid dreams.
I also believe we all have callings; there is a fine line between these dreams and callings to the naked eye, but such a thick and heavy divider in the heart.
There are also the shallow hintings of what we think is a calling, but is really just a flutter of the stomach at the thought of a greatness or goal we would love to achieve but are not actually meant to fulfill.
What IS a calling? Webster defines a "calling" a strong inner impulse toward a particular course of action especially when accompanied by conviction of divine influence.
For a long time I had a specific calling on my life, but instead of doing what many individuals do, convincing themselves they've heard from God and are called to do a specific action...I ran from it.
I convinced myself that I wasn't called, I just was psyching myself up with butterflies and dreams too big for a small girl to wear. I have told very few, well one person about this experience that happened 5 years ago, almost 5 years ago to the date.
My youth group made a trip to Caracas, Venezuela and at night we would have a worship service outside with the orphan children and workers in the dirt. My heart was very empty and I wanted God to fill it up so much...I wanted God to tell me what He wanted from me. We sang songs, lifted hands, and during worship one of the church leaders in Caracas prophesied to my dearest friends on the left and right of me. When he looked into my big green eyes, music blaring all around me, all I could think and hope was, " This is it! God is going to reveal His plan to me! Finally! It's my TURN!" But, nothing of that nature happened. The man turned to me, looked in my eyes filling with alligator tears and bowed his head and turned away.
My heart immediately shattered into a million pieces. What? How could this be? Both my best friends were just told of all the amazing things God was going to do through them, how could I have nothing to offer? Why didn't I have a purpose, calling, prophesy?! My anxiousness and joy turned to extreme bitterness.
I became hard-hearted towards the mission field and everything that went with that night. How could God abandon me like that? How embarrassing...all my friends were going to do BIG, i mean BIG things for Christ...and what was left for me? Become a house wife with three screaming toddlers tugging at my oversized t-shirt? Picking up goldfish off my dining room floor after I worked my 8-5 desk job?
No, that couldn't be right. That was not for me. Sure, that life IS some people's calling, and they do much more beautifully at it then I ever could...but I knew, I've always known, settling down was NOT my calling. Fine, I'd do things on my own terms and make a big life for myself without God's input!
Wrong.
Wrong.
Wrong.
I ran from missions. I ran from God. I tried to fit my feet into the shoes of a school teacher like many of the wonderful women in my family...that shoe didn't fit.
I tried to fit my feet into the shoes of a creative artist/photographer! That has to be it!
Wrong, those shoes didn't fit either.
Finally, I stopped running from God and what He wanted to finally say.
I went on a week of just me and God. Journaling and praying were all I did all week.
I made my life so quiet all I could do was listen.
A fire was lit that week in my spirit, a fire for missions. The spark was already there from when I was younger. My mother had told me of how when I was younger I had tugged on her arm and told her I was going to be a missionary one day. I still have a wrinkled up photo of a visiting missionary that spoke to me in children's church when I was merely 5 years old.
God took that spark and made a firework show of it. I've never felt more passionate and alive than I did when God gripped my spirit and showed me the love I am capable of on the mission field.
....Me?
No way...I'm a 5'2 skinny wimp of a girl that has no connections, anxiety attacks and asthma. I'm a dorky and "safe" girl.
What the heck can I do over there with those children?
I am nothing.
I am unqualified.
I am fearful.
I am small.
My talent is of filthy rags.
There are far more qualified people to step foot on the mission field than me, but God called me anyway and He will qualify me with time.
It took five years for me to realize why that man walked away that night. I was not ready to know.
I thought I was ready to hear and know what calling God had placed on my life that night...hands sweating, feet tapping the dirt...just waiting to hear what great things I was going to do with my life!
Whoah....there was my problem.
I was wanting to hear what BRITNEY was going to do with BRITNEY'S life.
God knew I was not ready because I still was Britney-minded, not kingdom-minded.
I was too immature spiritually and in my heart for God to work in me.
God had to break my heart in order to put it back together the way He intended my heart to actually be.
God has called me to the mission field far from home. I am so very afraid of what is to come because I know it is so much bigger than what I could ever do...but God relentlessly and continuously covers me in His rest and peace that He is with me and that none of this has to do with MY capabilities but His.
God continues to send me confirmation of my calling over and over again. Just this week God used a dear friend to confirm the call again without her even knowing it...but I knew.
I am more afraid of staying here and in this sedentary life than I am any form of tragedy or death that comes with the call to missions.
When I talk to someone about what God is doing in my heart and the love I already have for the people I will encounter when I go in God's timing, my heart just bursts with joy! I am so overwhelmed with love for these people I can not help but cry tears of excitement.
I know to the outside world it might sound crazy that I don't even know the place God has called me to go to yet, but I love it and the people there already.
It all sounds a little crazy and a little impossible, but that's why it's a God thing and not a Britney thing.
My name is Britney and my calling is missions.
I also believe we all have callings; there is a fine line between these dreams and callings to the naked eye, but such a thick and heavy divider in the heart.
There are also the shallow hintings of what we think is a calling, but is really just a flutter of the stomach at the thought of a greatness or goal we would love to achieve but are not actually meant to fulfill.
What IS a calling? Webster defines a "calling" a strong inner impulse toward a particular course of action especially when accompanied by conviction of divine influence.
For a long time I had a specific calling on my life, but instead of doing what many individuals do, convincing themselves they've heard from God and are called to do a specific action...I ran from it.
I convinced myself that I wasn't called, I just was psyching myself up with butterflies and dreams too big for a small girl to wear. I have told very few, well one person about this experience that happened 5 years ago, almost 5 years ago to the date.
My youth group made a trip to Caracas, Venezuela and at night we would have a worship service outside with the orphan children and workers in the dirt. My heart was very empty and I wanted God to fill it up so much...I wanted God to tell me what He wanted from me. We sang songs, lifted hands, and during worship one of the church leaders in Caracas prophesied to my dearest friends on the left and right of me. When he looked into my big green eyes, music blaring all around me, all I could think and hope was, " This is it! God is going to reveal His plan to me! Finally! It's my TURN!" But, nothing of that nature happened. The man turned to me, looked in my eyes filling with alligator tears and bowed his head and turned away.
My heart immediately shattered into a million pieces. What? How could this be? Both my best friends were just told of all the amazing things God was going to do through them, how could I have nothing to offer? Why didn't I have a purpose, calling, prophesy?! My anxiousness and joy turned to extreme bitterness.
I became hard-hearted towards the mission field and everything that went with that night. How could God abandon me like that? How embarrassing...all my friends were going to do BIG, i mean BIG things for Christ...and what was left for me? Become a house wife with three screaming toddlers tugging at my oversized t-shirt? Picking up goldfish off my dining room floor after I worked my 8-5 desk job?
No, that couldn't be right. That was not for me. Sure, that life IS some people's calling, and they do much more beautifully at it then I ever could...but I knew, I've always known, settling down was NOT my calling. Fine, I'd do things on my own terms and make a big life for myself without God's input!
Wrong.
Wrong.
Wrong.
I ran from missions. I ran from God. I tried to fit my feet into the shoes of a school teacher like many of the wonderful women in my family...that shoe didn't fit.
I tried to fit my feet into the shoes of a creative artist/photographer! That has to be it!
Wrong, those shoes didn't fit either.
Finally, I stopped running from God and what He wanted to finally say.
I went on a week of just me and God. Journaling and praying were all I did all week.
I made my life so quiet all I could do was listen.
A fire was lit that week in my spirit, a fire for missions. The spark was already there from when I was younger. My mother had told me of how when I was younger I had tugged on her arm and told her I was going to be a missionary one day. I still have a wrinkled up photo of a visiting missionary that spoke to me in children's church when I was merely 5 years old.
God took that spark and made a firework show of it. I've never felt more passionate and alive than I did when God gripped my spirit and showed me the love I am capable of on the mission field.
....Me?
No way...I'm a 5'2 skinny wimp of a girl that has no connections, anxiety attacks and asthma. I'm a dorky and "safe" girl.
What the heck can I do over there with those children?
I am nothing.
I am unqualified.
I am fearful.
I am small.
My talent is of filthy rags.
There are far more qualified people to step foot on the mission field than me, but God called me anyway and He will qualify me with time.
It took five years for me to realize why that man walked away that night. I was not ready to know.
I thought I was ready to hear and know what calling God had placed on my life that night...hands sweating, feet tapping the dirt...just waiting to hear what great things I was going to do with my life!
Whoah....there was my problem.
I was wanting to hear what BRITNEY was going to do with BRITNEY'S life.
God knew I was not ready because I still was Britney-minded, not kingdom-minded.
I was too immature spiritually and in my heart for God to work in me.
God had to break my heart in order to put it back together the way He intended my heart to actually be.
God has called me to the mission field far from home. I am so very afraid of what is to come because I know it is so much bigger than what I could ever do...but God relentlessly and continuously covers me in His rest and peace that He is with me and that none of this has to do with MY capabilities but His.
God continues to send me confirmation of my calling over and over again. Just this week God used a dear friend to confirm the call again without her even knowing it...but I knew.
I am more afraid of staying here and in this sedentary life than I am any form of tragedy or death that comes with the call to missions.
When I talk to someone about what God is doing in my heart and the love I already have for the people I will encounter when I go in God's timing, my heart just bursts with joy! I am so overwhelmed with love for these people I can not help but cry tears of excitement.
I know to the outside world it might sound crazy that I don't even know the place God has called me to go to yet, but I love it and the people there already.
It all sounds a little crazy and a little impossible, but that's why it's a God thing and not a Britney thing.
My name is Britney and my calling is missions.
Sunday, June 3, 2012
Seeing Through Eyes of Adulthood; Loving with a Child's Heart
Many of you know that I work with children 5 days a week.
3/4 of my jobs since I turned 16 have involved children. I've always found it funny that I haven't inherited the desire to bare a child of my own yet I am always tied to children in so many areas of my life. It's an ongoing joke between me and God I think...maybe He's just trying to make a point.
Through out life, I have lost the desire to be a child...and now I long to return to that part of my life that was so sweet, innocent and short-lived.
When I was young I always complained about being a kid, about how I could not wait to grow up! ( like many children do, I'm sure)
I often was told I was a 7 year old with a 37 year old attitude and mind; an "old soul."
I loved hanging out with people older than me.
Most of my friends were the age of my older sister.
It's ironic and cruel how much I once longed to be where I am in life now and how much I now long to go back to when I wanted to do nothing but speed up the process of growing older.
A few summers back I worked at a daycare. I became attached to a few kids, but I was a teenager and rarely paid any attention to the heart of the kids or anything that they said to me.
I was only concerned with the clock.
Now that I am older (the old age of 22 ;) ) I pay much more attention. I listen to them. I watch them. I hold them. I understand them as much as I can.
I've always been a quiet observer in life. The one group I love to observe the most is children.
The way they act.
React.
Children have so much to say that we often do not pay attention to and it is often when we become the most disconnected from our inner child that we finally notice the lessons their kindred spirits may teach us.
A child can be hit in the face with a block, crying their eyes out to me one second and best friends with the very child who hit them in the FACE 5 minutes later.
A child can complain about their mother/father/friend/sibling like they can't STAND them when they walk through my doors and run into their arms with tears of relief and joy within the hour.
A child can sulk in time out and stick their tongue out at me one day, and draw me an "I love Mrs. Britney!" picture the very next afternoon.
Now, to act this way in adulthood would be a little to the extreme, but think about these lessons.
Often as an adult we trust little, gossip much, get angry much, forgive little, forget rarely and remember all too easily.
The girl at the office that looked at us cross-eyed once without meaning to is on our "She can go die" list for months, or perhaps forever if you're a grudge holder.
A friend that forgot to call, write, or cancelled on us stops being a priority in our life.
As a "grown-up," when we are scorned once, we may as well been scorned for life by an individual.
Often we find it difficult to know when to see through the eyes of adulthood yet love with the heart of a child.
Whoah.
That hit me hard too.
When you watch the innocence of a child's heart, yours will break.
I'm not talking about watching them like we typically do, making sure they don't do anything to kill themselves or others...
I'm talking about REALLY watching a child move, share, love, forgive.
I don't think God put a period where we often do.
I don't think God meant "Have child-like faith," and that's all it was.
I think God meant, " Take on your old innocence, your old trusting spirit, your old easily forgiving heart, your old sense of wonder and adventure in your walk with Me. Be a child again in heart, but walk in the growth you've taken hold of spiritually."
Sure, may be a stretch to those who have read the verse and just take it for what the text reads, but for me, that's what that verse now SCREAMS at me.
Every time I see a child slip into a joyful and merciful spirit towards another child that has ridiculed, hit, hurt, damaged them...God places His hand on my heart and reminds me of the girl I used to be.
Trusting easily.
Loving loudly.
Forgiving.
Forgetting the bad.
Letting the good triumph.
To be a child again is to LET LOVE WIN!
3/4 of my jobs since I turned 16 have involved children. I've always found it funny that I haven't inherited the desire to bare a child of my own yet I am always tied to children in so many areas of my life. It's an ongoing joke between me and God I think...maybe He's just trying to make a point.
Through out life, I have lost the desire to be a child...and now I long to return to that part of my life that was so sweet, innocent and short-lived.
When I was young I always complained about being a kid, about how I could not wait to grow up! ( like many children do, I'm sure)
I often was told I was a 7 year old with a 37 year old attitude and mind; an "old soul."
I loved hanging out with people older than me.
Most of my friends were the age of my older sister.
It's ironic and cruel how much I once longed to be where I am in life now and how much I now long to go back to when I wanted to do nothing but speed up the process of growing older.
A few summers back I worked at a daycare. I became attached to a few kids, but I was a teenager and rarely paid any attention to the heart of the kids or anything that they said to me.
I was only concerned with the clock.
Now that I am older (the old age of 22 ;) ) I pay much more attention. I listen to them. I watch them. I hold them. I understand them as much as I can.
I've always been a quiet observer in life. The one group I love to observe the most is children.
The way they act.
React.
Children have so much to say that we often do not pay attention to and it is often when we become the most disconnected from our inner child that we finally notice the lessons their kindred spirits may teach us.
A child can be hit in the face with a block, crying their eyes out to me one second and best friends with the very child who hit them in the FACE 5 minutes later.
A child can complain about their mother/father/friend/sibling like they can't STAND them when they walk through my doors and run into their arms with tears of relief and joy within the hour.
A child can sulk in time out and stick their tongue out at me one day, and draw me an "I love Mrs. Britney!" picture the very next afternoon.
Now, to act this way in adulthood would be a little to the extreme, but think about these lessons.
Often as an adult we trust little, gossip much, get angry much, forgive little, forget rarely and remember all too easily.
The girl at the office that looked at us cross-eyed once without meaning to is on our "She can go die" list for months, or perhaps forever if you're a grudge holder.
A friend that forgot to call, write, or cancelled on us stops being a priority in our life.
As a "grown-up," when we are scorned once, we may as well been scorned for life by an individual.
Often we find it difficult to know when to see through the eyes of adulthood yet love with the heart of a child.
Whoah.
That hit me hard too.
When you watch the innocence of a child's heart, yours will break.
I'm not talking about watching them like we typically do, making sure they don't do anything to kill themselves or others...
I'm talking about REALLY watching a child move, share, love, forgive.
I don't think God put a period where we often do.
I don't think God meant "Have child-like faith," and that's all it was.
I think God meant, " Take on your old innocence, your old trusting spirit, your old easily forgiving heart, your old sense of wonder and adventure in your walk with Me. Be a child again in heart, but walk in the growth you've taken hold of spiritually."
Sure, may be a stretch to those who have read the verse and just take it for what the text reads, but for me, that's what that verse now SCREAMS at me.
Every time I see a child slip into a joyful and merciful spirit towards another child that has ridiculed, hit, hurt, damaged them...God places His hand on my heart and reminds me of the girl I used to be.
Trusting easily.
Loving loudly.
Forgiving.
Forgetting the bad.
Letting the good triumph.
To be a child again is to LET LOVE WIN!
|
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Friendships: Blessing or Burden?
I am a people pleaser.
I care too much what people say about me or think of me.
I am always striving to hold onto friendships that I need to release.
These are three statements I would have said a few short months ago.
My heart would break over a lost friend, and I would try to dissect myself to figure out why this person no longer desired my friendship.
I would always be at a beckon call for a friend, fearing I'd lose them or they'd become upset with me.
My personality is a little rough around the edges at times; I'm sarcastic, stubborn, and my meekness is often percepted as rudeness and/or snobiness. In reality, I'm tender-hearted, easily hurt, and easily taken advantage of.
I struggled spiritually with this for quite some time. Didn't God require me to love others as He did? Unconditionally, never wavering, through low and high water? If I was loving my friends the way He designed me to, why did it always feel so wrong?
Finally God explained to me that while I WAS loving, I was also abusing myself.
Are we meant to carry a friend's burden? Yes. Are we meant to love our friends unconditionally? Yes. Are friendships designed to BE the burden in our lives? No.
It has taken me so much time to know how thin the line actually is when it involves a friend, helping them carry their burden, but not letting my friendships become MY burdens.
I will always love my friends, pray for them and encourage them. But I will no longer live to please my friends, or be weighed down by their weight.
I have began to evaluate my friendships, and I've had to ask myself, " Is this friendship a blessing or a burden? Is this brother/sister in Christ HELPING carry the load or am I carrying this friendship?"
God intended friendships to be a partnership, both working toward the same goal, not a tug of war, or even worse: you carrying the dead weight of your friend at the end of the rope.
I've come to grips with the fact that not all friendships are designed to take residence in my life forever.
I've come to grips with the friendships I've had to release and the future ones I'll have to bid farewell to.
God has given me the ability to love the friends He has blessed me with deeply, and the strength to love myself enough to sever unhealthy and burdensome friendships.
Do not make yourself sweat over a friend who doesn't break a sweat over you.
Do not wipe your schedule clean for a friend that makes no effort to pencil you in.
People will always make time for things/people they care about.
So, care enough about yourself to take off the people pleaser coat and put on the robe of independancy!
Friendships are a wonderful and beautiful blessing from God!
Embrace the blessings and cut out the burdens.
Friday, February 17, 2012
Outgrowing your labels.
Another blog on the smart phone...God likes to place things on my heart away from a computer I guess.
I wasn't sure if I should even go through with this blog when God laid it on my heart this week. It's extremely personal, vulnerable, and it will most likely step on a few toes.
But God confirmed in my heart, " if you never step on a few toes, you're most likely not going against the crowd to do anything worth while."
I feel anxious writing this, but God knows who needs this blog.
This is for you. Yes, you.
About two weeks ago marked the three year "anniversary" of the worst time in my entire life.
I had screwed up. Big time. I lost trust. I lost friends. I lost hope. I lost myself. I lost faith.
I had no idea where to go or who to turn to that wouldn't turn around and talk about what a failure I was two seconds later. I wasnt even 19 yet. I was a lost, broken, scared little girl. Am I minimizing the huge choice i had made and blaming the other party? No. I know I'm just as responsible as any. But, I do see now, I was a child. A very lost and hurting child.
Probably stepped on a few toes right there.
I didn't always see it that way, because I wasn't treated like a little girl. I had known this place my entire life. I sang on the stage there at four years old, been on every kids play cast, gone to every youth function, excelled in every fine arts category. I had a lot of friends. I was well known.
I thought I had the world there and the people there would hold me up no matter what.
On that day, my world came crashing down and my former labels were ripped off and replaced with horrible labels I never thought would fit someone like me.
Some labels were given to me by my old friends, by people my parents called friends, by people that never really knew me at all...even some by people who were meant to embrace me as family.
Imagine if you woke up tomorrow and the majority of everyone you trusted and loved cut you off.
Treated you like a stranger.
Passed you in a hallway, looked you in the eyes, and turned the other way.
You have become the untouchable.
You don't understand. These people were your friends. A few short months ago they hugged your neck and embraced you like a brother!
You failed, but you didn't think you were a failure...until now.
You know the saying that if you hear something long enough, you start to believe it?
It's true.
I had looked at a huge scarlet A on my chest so long...I grew into it.
It became a part of me.
And three years later, I was still sewing that huge,annoying,disgusting,big fat A on my chest every single day.
People didn't have to do it for me anymore, I grew into all the labels people slapped onto my heart.
I remember running into one of my best friends a few months after it had happened. They looked me in the eyes...and walked away.
My heart broke into a million pieces. My gut writhed in pain.
I was trying to keep it together for my sisters wedding the next day. But how could I walk down the aisle knowing that crowd of people that used to look upon me with love and respect would be penetrating me with judging stares?
That was a rough day. I wish I could go back for my sister and wear a genuine smile, walk down the aisle, and smile in the faces of those who rejected me...and not with the fake smile I wore for so long, but a huge "God has loved me and shown me grace and wiped away all my transgressions! Forget you!" smile.
That's the smile I wear now. It fits me.
I've outgrown those labels.
I've outgrown those stares of disapproval.
I've outgrown those rejections.
I've outgrown that smile.
I've grown into purity,
I've grown into shamelessness.
I've grown into keeping my head high and my smile wide.
I'm still the untouchable, but in a "God chose me, picked me up, and there's nothing you can do to me to knock me down" way.
It took me three years to outgrow my labels of
"that girl"
"slut"
"HOME-WRECKER"
"victim"
Don't let it take so long for you to let God rip all your labels off and replace them with
"child of God"
"pure"
"righteous"
"new"
Recently I got 2 Cor. 5:17 tattooed permanently on me.
"anyone who is joined with Christ is a new creation. The old is gone, the new has come!"
Wow. Wow. Wow.
God laid this verse on my heart during my fast.
No, He didn't just lay it there, He engraved it there.
Deeply, He engraved it on my heart.
It penetrated my spirit forever.
To think, I, Britney, am a new creation!
The old is gone.
The labels are gone!
The past is gone!
The pain is gone!
That Britney that wouldn't even lift her head to look at you in the eyes is gone.
The new Britney will look at you square in the face, tell you about her past and how God graciously and mercifully lifted her out of the muck of shame and raised her up as a witness.
She will tell you she's a sinner.
She messes up.
And that God called her to missions.
God uses the foolish things of the world to confuse the wise.
And how I'm actually showing my face, much less screaming my screw-up from the roof tops is probably confusing a lot of people.
I have experienced the grace that surpasses all others.
I have been refined by fire.
I have been unchained.
If a man was in prison for his entire life, had never seen the light of day, and then one day was given a free pass to go and roam the streets...
I'm sure he'd act a little bizarre to people that didn't know his story.
That he had been locked up for SO long...
He might dance, sing, kiss the earth.
That's who I am right now.
I've been locked up and I haven't been able to see the Light for so long.
I'm acting a little bizarre.
Im stepping on toes.
I'm ripping off my label.
I'm flipping off the devil.
I am a new creation.
I am a new creation.
I AM A NEW CREATION!
I wasn't sure if I should even go through with this blog when God laid it on my heart this week. It's extremely personal, vulnerable, and it will most likely step on a few toes.
But God confirmed in my heart, " if you never step on a few toes, you're most likely not going against the crowd to do anything worth while."
I feel anxious writing this, but God knows who needs this blog.
This is for you. Yes, you.
About two weeks ago marked the three year "anniversary" of the worst time in my entire life.
I had screwed up. Big time. I lost trust. I lost friends. I lost hope. I lost myself. I lost faith.
I had no idea where to go or who to turn to that wouldn't turn around and talk about what a failure I was two seconds later. I wasnt even 19 yet. I was a lost, broken, scared little girl. Am I minimizing the huge choice i had made and blaming the other party? No. I know I'm just as responsible as any. But, I do see now, I was a child. A very lost and hurting child.
Probably stepped on a few toes right there.
I didn't always see it that way, because I wasn't treated like a little girl. I had known this place my entire life. I sang on the stage there at four years old, been on every kids play cast, gone to every youth function, excelled in every fine arts category. I had a lot of friends. I was well known.
I thought I had the world there and the people there would hold me up no matter what.
On that day, my world came crashing down and my former labels were ripped off and replaced with horrible labels I never thought would fit someone like me.
Some labels were given to me by my old friends, by people my parents called friends, by people that never really knew me at all...even some by people who were meant to embrace me as family.
Imagine if you woke up tomorrow and the majority of everyone you trusted and loved cut you off.
Treated you like a stranger.
Passed you in a hallway, looked you in the eyes, and turned the other way.
You have become the untouchable.
You don't understand. These people were your friends. A few short months ago they hugged your neck and embraced you like a brother!
You failed, but you didn't think you were a failure...until now.
You know the saying that if you hear something long enough, you start to believe it?
It's true.
I had looked at a huge scarlet A on my chest so long...I grew into it.
It became a part of me.
And three years later, I was still sewing that huge,annoying,disgusting,big fat A on my chest every single day.
People didn't have to do it for me anymore, I grew into all the labels people slapped onto my heart.
I remember running into one of my best friends a few months after it had happened. They looked me in the eyes...and walked away.
My heart broke into a million pieces. My gut writhed in pain.
I was trying to keep it together for my sisters wedding the next day. But how could I walk down the aisle knowing that crowd of people that used to look upon me with love and respect would be penetrating me with judging stares?
That was a rough day. I wish I could go back for my sister and wear a genuine smile, walk down the aisle, and smile in the faces of those who rejected me...and not with the fake smile I wore for so long, but a huge "God has loved me and shown me grace and wiped away all my transgressions! Forget you!" smile.
That's the smile I wear now. It fits me.
I've outgrown those labels.
I've outgrown those stares of disapproval.
I've outgrown those rejections.
I've outgrown that smile.
I've grown into purity,
I've grown into shamelessness.
I've grown into keeping my head high and my smile wide.
I'm still the untouchable, but in a "God chose me, picked me up, and there's nothing you can do to me to knock me down" way.
It took me three years to outgrow my labels of
"that girl"
"slut"
"HOME-WRECKER"
"victim"
Don't let it take so long for you to let God rip all your labels off and replace them with
"child of God"
"pure"
"righteous"
"new"
Recently I got 2 Cor. 5:17 tattooed permanently on me.
"anyone who is joined with Christ is a new creation. The old is gone, the new has come!"
Wow. Wow. Wow.
God laid this verse on my heart during my fast.
No, He didn't just lay it there, He engraved it there.
Deeply, He engraved it on my heart.
It penetrated my spirit forever.
To think, I, Britney, am a new creation!
The old is gone.
The labels are gone!
The past is gone!
The pain is gone!
That Britney that wouldn't even lift her head to look at you in the eyes is gone.
The new Britney will look at you square in the face, tell you about her past and how God graciously and mercifully lifted her out of the muck of shame and raised her up as a witness.
She will tell you she's a sinner.
She messes up.
And that God called her to missions.
God uses the foolish things of the world to confuse the wise.
And how I'm actually showing my face, much less screaming my screw-up from the roof tops is probably confusing a lot of people.
I have experienced the grace that surpasses all others.
I have been refined by fire.
I have been unchained.
If a man was in prison for his entire life, had never seen the light of day, and then one day was given a free pass to go and roam the streets...
I'm sure he'd act a little bizarre to people that didn't know his story.
That he had been locked up for SO long...
He might dance, sing, kiss the earth.
That's who I am right now.
I've been locked up and I haven't been able to see the Light for so long.
I'm acting a little bizarre.
Im stepping on toes.
I'm ripping off my label.
I'm flipping off the devil.
I am a new creation.
I am a new creation.
I AM A NEW CREATION!
Monday, February 6, 2012
Fast: Week 1
We've all fasted before.
When I was a kid I just did it because I was told to.
When I was in ministry school I did it because I was told to.
When my church did it last year I lasted for 1 week.
A fast isn't a fast unless you personally feel God is asking you to do it.
God will tell you what to give up.
This isnt a diet.
In fact, many of the fasts God tells me to do don't even involve food.
Last week in prayer, God asked me to embark on a fast, or what I call a spiritual walk with God.
He specifically told me to "Simplify Britney."
I have so far given up Facebook, Twitter, and the internet in general when it's not required for school.
That seemed like a lot to me. I was constantly on facebook, checking people's status' and if they liked mine.
Facebook gives some sort of strange social high that I now see as highly unhealthy.
Then, God asked me to fast secular music...which was one I argued with Him on.
I run constantly, and the majority of the music I run to is upbeat and secular to keep me going and keep me going fast.
God told me not all secular music is unhealthy, but some of the trash I was feeding my spirit without even realizing it was TOXIC.
I would have songs to run to and not really listen to the words, just run to the beat. But, just like He said, I knew every word to those songs unknowingly...and it was complete garbage I was feeding into my spirit.
It's hard not listening to secular radio stations when the only Christian ones are highly cheesy and quite frankly the music is LAME.
Am I allowed to say that?
When did becoming a Christian mean you lose your real sense of humor? Corny crap.
I feel cut off at this point in my fast. I keep asking God, "When is this going to be over? Am I done yet?"
I feel God won't release me from this fast until I finally go with it, and stop complaining about it every day.
Each week I feel it will get better, and I'll go through a different emotion. It seems contradictory that a fast would make someone feel lonely and depressed...but it's true. When you're so used to being socially active constantly through out the day and then you're suddenly cut off, you feel left out and lost.
I was used to posting my thoughts and what I was doing and where I was at and who with constantly. Who is listening to my thoughts NOW? Who am I going to tell what I'm doing?!
God said, "Now you're forced to tell ME your thoughts."
So here I am, writing in a red leather journal to my God that I can not see...all my intimate thoughts.
Many times I would be doing my own thing and God would tug on my heart and urge me to go somewhere private and journal to Him.
This first week me and God are having a rough time. I'm lonely and I feel so apart from the world right now.
I've grumbled and cried a lot about how annoyed I am that I feel this way and I dont understand why He would ask me to give up all this stuff if it was going to make me feel WORSE than before I started fasting.
Sometimes God wants you cut off, because that's the only way He can get your attention and just have YOU.
When all you have is Him, and the only person you have to vent to is God, your eyes are opened to a lot of what's wrong with you.
Tough love, right?
But necessary.
When I express my problems and complaints to God instead of Facebook or my friends, often times I realize how petty and ridiculous I really do sound.
And instead of "likes" or "comments," God will tell me to be quiet and show me that I am not reacting in wisdom.
I'm not through with week one of my fast just yet, but I've already learned so much about myself and God has pointed out many things in my heart that are not right.
God showed me that often times I am lazy in my work. I do not do my job to the best of my ability. Even when I have to clean a toilet, I should do it to the best of my ability.
I should do everything, no matter how small, with excellence.
Each day I ask God to show me something that day that I need to improve on.
He doesn't take it easy on me either. He has been very thorough in showing me what my heart really looks like.
It's a serious mess. It's been holding on to so much bitterness. It judges more than loves.
I've had to apologize to people God told me to...when I didn't understand, because in my mind THEY were the ones that should be apologizing to ME!
I will pray for an enemy in the morning that I havent seen in 4 years and I'll see them at the grocery store 2 hours later.
Talk about divine appointment.
These first few weeks I know will be rough. God is getting all the junk out slowly and painfully...and I'm fighting the whole way.
I'm going through the fire of refinement before God can polish me.
He's melting away all the gross stuff that's been piled on that I've grown to be comfortable in.
I have become desensitized to my own sin.
What a dangerous place to be for a Christian...wow.
As long as my sin wasnt as bad as "his or her" sin...I was okay in my mind.
Why God chose this specific time in life to do this fast, I don't know.
He does.
Yesterday I went for a run in the woods. I felt like an idiot, running and crying. I just felt so dissected from everyone.
Finally, God stopped me. I leaned against a tree and God wrapped His arms around me.
I felt the first hint of peace since I started my fast.
I looked up in the trees and I was reminded of the little girl I had grown so close to in Caracas so many summers ago.
I could still hear her laugh when I tried to make myself swallow the fruit she handed me off that foreign tree.
My porcelain fingers intwined with her dark ones...skipping with my hair frizzy and no make up on. I didnt care.
I scuffed my running shoes along in the dirt, remembering how dirty I would be by the end of the day after playing with the children in the orphanage all day.
In 2008 at the ministry school I attended, I was awoken one night late with a vivid and confusing dream. I remember telling matt about it the next morning...still in a trance. I saw myself standing in the dry dirt, curls messy and thrown into a braid, holding the hand of a small dark skinned child...just beaming with joy. In the dream I never said anything, I just stood there smiling and holding this boys hand.
I didn't understand. And I never had the dream again.
What did this mean?
Why did God stop me on my run for these memories?
I sat in the dirt in the woods yesterday, getting all my clothes wet.
I prayed.
I begged God if this was it.
Was He calling me to missions?
God then reminded me of the calling to missions he placed on my life at such a young age, so long ago.
"Have you forgotten the dream I placed on your heart as a child?"
I had not forgotten. I had neglected it.
I was afraid. I'm the kind of girl that avoids airplanes and holds onto the door handle with a death grip when anyone else is driving.
I like being in control.
Surely God would not call a girl so full of fear and full of the need for control to give up home and familiarity for missions.
He would.
He did.
God called me to Caracas for the summer of 2013. This is no short trip. God has called me for the entire summer.
I'm afraid if I go God will call me to missions permanently.
I'm afraid if God called me to do missions in my first week of fasting, what other crazy stuff is He going to ask me to do as this continues?
It's week one.
I'm lonely. I'm afraid. I'm called.
When I was a kid I just did it because I was told to.
When I was in ministry school I did it because I was told to.
When my church did it last year I lasted for 1 week.
A fast isn't a fast unless you personally feel God is asking you to do it.
God will tell you what to give up.
This isnt a diet.
In fact, many of the fasts God tells me to do don't even involve food.
Last week in prayer, God asked me to embark on a fast, or what I call a spiritual walk with God.
He specifically told me to "Simplify Britney."
I have so far given up Facebook, Twitter, and the internet in general when it's not required for school.
That seemed like a lot to me. I was constantly on facebook, checking people's status' and if they liked mine.
Facebook gives some sort of strange social high that I now see as highly unhealthy.
Then, God asked me to fast secular music...which was one I argued with Him on.
I run constantly, and the majority of the music I run to is upbeat and secular to keep me going and keep me going fast.
God told me not all secular music is unhealthy, but some of the trash I was feeding my spirit without even realizing it was TOXIC.
I would have songs to run to and not really listen to the words, just run to the beat. But, just like He said, I knew every word to those songs unknowingly...and it was complete garbage I was feeding into my spirit.
It's hard not listening to secular radio stations when the only Christian ones are highly cheesy and quite frankly the music is LAME.
Am I allowed to say that?
When did becoming a Christian mean you lose your real sense of humor? Corny crap.
I feel cut off at this point in my fast. I keep asking God, "When is this going to be over? Am I done yet?"
I feel God won't release me from this fast until I finally go with it, and stop complaining about it every day.
Each week I feel it will get better, and I'll go through a different emotion. It seems contradictory that a fast would make someone feel lonely and depressed...but it's true. When you're so used to being socially active constantly through out the day and then you're suddenly cut off, you feel left out and lost.
I was used to posting my thoughts and what I was doing and where I was at and who with constantly. Who is listening to my thoughts NOW? Who am I going to tell what I'm doing?!
God said, "Now you're forced to tell ME your thoughts."
So here I am, writing in a red leather journal to my God that I can not see...all my intimate thoughts.
Many times I would be doing my own thing and God would tug on my heart and urge me to go somewhere private and journal to Him.
This first week me and God are having a rough time. I'm lonely and I feel so apart from the world right now.
I've grumbled and cried a lot about how annoyed I am that I feel this way and I dont understand why He would ask me to give up all this stuff if it was going to make me feel WORSE than before I started fasting.
Sometimes God wants you cut off, because that's the only way He can get your attention and just have YOU.
When all you have is Him, and the only person you have to vent to is God, your eyes are opened to a lot of what's wrong with you.
Tough love, right?
But necessary.
When I express my problems and complaints to God instead of Facebook or my friends, often times I realize how petty and ridiculous I really do sound.
And instead of "likes" or "comments," God will tell me to be quiet and show me that I am not reacting in wisdom.
I'm not through with week one of my fast just yet, but I've already learned so much about myself and God has pointed out many things in my heart that are not right.
God showed me that often times I am lazy in my work. I do not do my job to the best of my ability. Even when I have to clean a toilet, I should do it to the best of my ability.
I should do everything, no matter how small, with excellence.
Each day I ask God to show me something that day that I need to improve on.
He doesn't take it easy on me either. He has been very thorough in showing me what my heart really looks like.
It's a serious mess. It's been holding on to so much bitterness. It judges more than loves.
I've had to apologize to people God told me to...when I didn't understand, because in my mind THEY were the ones that should be apologizing to ME!
I will pray for an enemy in the morning that I havent seen in 4 years and I'll see them at the grocery store 2 hours later.
Talk about divine appointment.
These first few weeks I know will be rough. God is getting all the junk out slowly and painfully...and I'm fighting the whole way.
I'm going through the fire of refinement before God can polish me.
He's melting away all the gross stuff that's been piled on that I've grown to be comfortable in.
I have become desensitized to my own sin.
What a dangerous place to be for a Christian...wow.
As long as my sin wasnt as bad as "his or her" sin...I was okay in my mind.
Why God chose this specific time in life to do this fast, I don't know.
He does.
Yesterday I went for a run in the woods. I felt like an idiot, running and crying. I just felt so dissected from everyone.
Finally, God stopped me. I leaned against a tree and God wrapped His arms around me.
I felt the first hint of peace since I started my fast.
I looked up in the trees and I was reminded of the little girl I had grown so close to in Caracas so many summers ago.
I could still hear her laugh when I tried to make myself swallow the fruit she handed me off that foreign tree.
My porcelain fingers intwined with her dark ones...skipping with my hair frizzy and no make up on. I didnt care.
I scuffed my running shoes along in the dirt, remembering how dirty I would be by the end of the day after playing with the children in the orphanage all day.
In 2008 at the ministry school I attended, I was awoken one night late with a vivid and confusing dream. I remember telling matt about it the next morning...still in a trance. I saw myself standing in the dry dirt, curls messy and thrown into a braid, holding the hand of a small dark skinned child...just beaming with joy. In the dream I never said anything, I just stood there smiling and holding this boys hand.
I didn't understand. And I never had the dream again.
What did this mean?
Why did God stop me on my run for these memories?
I sat in the dirt in the woods yesterday, getting all my clothes wet.
I prayed.
I begged God if this was it.
Was He calling me to missions?
God then reminded me of the calling to missions he placed on my life at such a young age, so long ago.
"Have you forgotten the dream I placed on your heart as a child?"
I had not forgotten. I had neglected it.
I was afraid. I'm the kind of girl that avoids airplanes and holds onto the door handle with a death grip when anyone else is driving.
I like being in control.
Surely God would not call a girl so full of fear and full of the need for control to give up home and familiarity for missions.
He would.
He did.
God called me to Caracas for the summer of 2013. This is no short trip. God has called me for the entire summer.
I'm afraid if I go God will call me to missions permanently.
I'm afraid if God called me to do missions in my first week of fasting, what other crazy stuff is He going to ask me to do as this continues?
It's week one.
I'm lonely. I'm afraid. I'm called.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Night Gowns and Rolling Eyes
If you were to take me and my mother side by side, you would instantly see the resemblance. I have my mother's eyes, her nose, her height, even my smile reflects my mother.
When I was 14, I would have never admitted this. I probably would have argued that I look nor do I act anything like my mother.
When I was 4, I would have done anything to be like my mother.
Now, I'd be blessed to carry on any characteristic of my mother.
When I was younger, I never left my mother's side. On occasion she might have gotten a 10 minute shower of solitude...if she was lucky. Her leg was constantly suffocated by my arms.
I never spoke to anyone but my mother or my sister, most of the time in whispers.
My mother was my lifeline.
My interpreter.
My best friend.
My play mate.
My safety blanket.
I remember when she would work at night as a waitress I would beg for one of her night gowns to hold and smell that night.
Breathing in her perfume as I drifted off to sleep is a memory I'll never shake.
Tugging on her skirts, wanting her to bend down so I could whisper something highly important in her ear.
But my whispers were important to her.
Every night she would scoop me up and plop down in that old comforting brown recliner in my bedroom and sing to me.
Rocking and softly grazing my face as she softly sang.
I don't remember what she would sing on those nights anymore.
But I remember what I felt when I was safely propped on her lap, feeling no need to have my eyes open to be aware of my surroundings.
I was safe.
I was at a peaceful resting place only my mother could take me to.
Who knew ten years later the last person I'd talk to about my problems would be my mother.
Shes probaly seen more rolling of my eyes than anyone.
All the rules and restrictions I never understood.
Why I couldn't hang out with the people I wanted.
Date the guy I wanted.
She was "ruining" my life!
I vividly remember the day I had a heated argument with my mother.
Over something I now see and understand as her shielding me from future tragedy.
I stormed away from her, pointed my scrawny teenage finger at her as I stopped and hurled around on the stairs...
I gritted my teeth in bitter tears and regretfully said, " I hate you. "
My stomach dropped.
I didn't hate her.
I loved her.
What I really meant to say was, " mom I need you to save me from myself. I need you."
I was really tugging on her old skirt like when I was 4 years old, saying, " mom, mom, lean in I have something to tell you."
Neither she nor I knew how hard I was tugging on her skirt that day.
I'm a distant person.
Often times I'm more distant to those I want to hold on to.
Still, when my mother sees me, she's pulls me tight to her, my head about to pop off.
My chin can almost sit on top of her head now.
I look older. Like a woman.
I don't cling to her leg.
Or crawl into her lap.
I act strong and independent.
But when my mother embraces me before I leave to go to my own home, I feel like that little four year old girl again.
Though I'm standing over her, in my heart I'm still crawled up in her lap, and her arms wrapped around me are like the soft songs she once sang over me.
I've tried to be my mother by walking and tripping in her heels.
I've tried to not be anything like my mother by being a snot-nosed brat of a teenager.
Now, when I brush my strawberry tinted hair, brush my teeth, and put on my eye makeup, I see my mother's red hair that once fell over me as I lay in her arms.
I see her smile when she laughs at my father's jokes.
I see her eyes when she talks about her day.
I am my mother's daughter.
I wouldnt have it any other way.
When I was 14, I would have never admitted this. I probably would have argued that I look nor do I act anything like my mother.
When I was 4, I would have done anything to be like my mother.
Now, I'd be blessed to carry on any characteristic of my mother.
When I was younger, I never left my mother's side. On occasion she might have gotten a 10 minute shower of solitude...if she was lucky. Her leg was constantly suffocated by my arms.
I never spoke to anyone but my mother or my sister, most of the time in whispers.
My mother was my lifeline.
My interpreter.
My best friend.
My play mate.
My safety blanket.
I remember when she would work at night as a waitress I would beg for one of her night gowns to hold and smell that night.
Breathing in her perfume as I drifted off to sleep is a memory I'll never shake.
Tugging on her skirts, wanting her to bend down so I could whisper something highly important in her ear.
But my whispers were important to her.
Every night she would scoop me up and plop down in that old comforting brown recliner in my bedroom and sing to me.
Rocking and softly grazing my face as she softly sang.
I don't remember what she would sing on those nights anymore.
But I remember what I felt when I was safely propped on her lap, feeling no need to have my eyes open to be aware of my surroundings.
I was safe.
I was at a peaceful resting place only my mother could take me to.
Who knew ten years later the last person I'd talk to about my problems would be my mother.
Shes probaly seen more rolling of my eyes than anyone.
All the rules and restrictions I never understood.
Why I couldn't hang out with the people I wanted.
Date the guy I wanted.
She was "ruining" my life!
I vividly remember the day I had a heated argument with my mother.
Over something I now see and understand as her shielding me from future tragedy.
I stormed away from her, pointed my scrawny teenage finger at her as I stopped and hurled around on the stairs...
I gritted my teeth in bitter tears and regretfully said, " I hate you. "
My stomach dropped.
I didn't hate her.
I loved her.
What I really meant to say was, " mom I need you to save me from myself. I need you."
I was really tugging on her old skirt like when I was 4 years old, saying, " mom, mom, lean in I have something to tell you."
Neither she nor I knew how hard I was tugging on her skirt that day.
I'm a distant person.
Often times I'm more distant to those I want to hold on to.
Still, when my mother sees me, she's pulls me tight to her, my head about to pop off.
My chin can almost sit on top of her head now.
I look older. Like a woman.
I don't cling to her leg.
Or crawl into her lap.
I act strong and independent.
But when my mother embraces me before I leave to go to my own home, I feel like that little four year old girl again.
Though I'm standing over her, in my heart I'm still crawled up in her lap, and her arms wrapped around me are like the soft songs she once sang over me.
I've tried to be my mother by walking and tripping in her heels.
I've tried to not be anything like my mother by being a snot-nosed brat of a teenager.
Now, when I brush my strawberry tinted hair, brush my teeth, and put on my eye makeup, I see my mother's red hair that once fell over me as I lay in her arms.
I see her smile when she laughs at my father's jokes.
I see her eyes when she talks about her day.
I am my mother's daughter.
I wouldnt have it any other way.
Sunday, January 8, 2012
My Bucket List
Everyone has those things that they want to do or accomplish before they leave this world behind and enter into another.
1. Adopt a child.
2. Own a great Dane.
3. Grow my hair down my back.
4. Run a race in every state.
5. Run a marathon in another country.
6. Help build my own house.
7. Dye my hair black.
8. Try sushi.
9. Eat snake.
10. Live in Italy for a year and learn to cook.
11. Sing karaoke.
12. Try vegetarianism.
13. Learn sign language.
14. Parasail.
15. Hike the rocky mountains.
16. Visit a rain forest.
17. Repay my parents with the care they showed me.
18. Work at an orphanage for a year.
19. Make perfect butterscotch pudding.
20. Be a Godmother to my best friends children.
21. Run until I'm 85.
22. Write a book.
23. Hug my worst enemy.
24. Go cow tipping.
25. Learn to make apple pie from scratch and be known for it.
26. Write a hymn.
27. Have a white picket fence with rose bushes.
28. Help strangers get healthy.
29. Take a ballet class.
30. Learn Italian.
31. Ballroom dance.
32. Mountain climb.
33. Learn to love my natural beauty.
34. Protest with a picket sign.
35. Camp at a national monument.
36. Play the violin.
37. Give a maid of honor speech.
38. Volunteer at a house for battered women.
39. See my best friend marry the man she deserves.
40. Buy a stranger's groceries.
41. Meet Billy Joel.
42. See coldplay in person.
43. Sell everything I own and travel.
44. Move to birmingham.
45. Re-do a worn down park.
46. Grafitti a bridge.
47. Visit israel.
48. Feed pigeons in time square.
49. Write a controversial column for a paper.
50. Wear an all lace dress.
51. Smoke a cigar.
52. Dance on a table in a public place.
53. Go to Spain with my best friend.
54. Skinny dip in the ocean.
55. Plant a tree and my great grandchildren play under it.
56. Learn to fly a plane.
57. Bathe in a waterfall.
58. Horseback ride in Ireland.
59. Pick apple in an orchard.
60. Complete a triathlon.
61. Finish this list.
1. Adopt a child.
2. Own a great Dane.
3. Grow my hair down my back.
4. Run a race in every state.
5. Run a marathon in another country.
6. Help build my own house.
7. Dye my hair black.
8. Try sushi.
9. Eat snake.
10. Live in Italy for a year and learn to cook.
11. Sing karaoke.
12. Try vegetarianism.
13. Learn sign language.
14. Parasail.
15. Hike the rocky mountains.
16. Visit a rain forest.
17. Repay my parents with the care they showed me.
18. Work at an orphanage for a year.
19. Make perfect butterscotch pudding.
20. Be a Godmother to my best friends children.
21. Run until I'm 85.
22. Write a book.
23. Hug my worst enemy.
24. Go cow tipping.
25. Learn to make apple pie from scratch and be known for it.
26. Write a hymn.
27. Have a white picket fence with rose bushes.
28. Help strangers get healthy.
29. Take a ballet class.
30. Learn Italian.
31. Ballroom dance.
32. Mountain climb.
33. Learn to love my natural beauty.
34. Protest with a picket sign.
35. Camp at a national monument.
36. Play the violin.
37. Give a maid of honor speech.
38. Volunteer at a house for battered women.
39. See my best friend marry the man she deserves.
40. Buy a stranger's groceries.
41. Meet Billy Joel.
42. See coldplay in person.
43. Sell everything I own and travel.
44. Move to birmingham.
45. Re-do a worn down park.
46. Grafitti a bridge.
47. Visit israel.
48. Feed pigeons in time square.
49. Write a controversial column for a paper.
50. Wear an all lace dress.
51. Smoke a cigar.
52. Dance on a table in a public place.
53. Go to Spain with my best friend.
54. Skinny dip in the ocean.
55. Plant a tree and my great grandchildren play under it.
56. Learn to fly a plane.
57. Bathe in a waterfall.
58. Horseback ride in Ireland.
59. Pick apple in an orchard.
60. Complete a triathlon.
61. Finish this list.
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