As if life and relationship aren't complicated enough, there's this wily pressure to add marriage into the mix, or to be dating with it as an end-goal. I, like I'm sure many other girls, have my moments of pure panic, thinking what if I'm supposed to be doing something right now and I'm not, and then I'll be single forever! Fear of the unknown grabs hold and grips tightly. And while it's different now than the times where at my age I'd already be considered an old maid and a lost cause, there's still a function of society that strikes fear of singleness into our hearts; beyond the healthy desire for companionship.
It's a weird conversation to have, anything revolving around being single and the implication that you shouldn't be. Lately, I've come to terms with one thing about my love-life - or lack thereof: I'd rather be single than settle.
Most people can get behind that statement til they start asking questions. Well, what do you want? Which quickly can turn into, Well, good luck finding that! Exactly. Exactly. There's enough mess to this life and relationships in general, then to go adding in romance and quite possibly a family with someone that sort of meets what you need?
Now, believe me, I've read all the blogs and articles (and some pages of books before I got bored or annoyed), and I'm not saying I expect someone to be perfect! I'm so tired of that retort; I'm not nearly so naive. The people I love the very most in this life have all hurt me at some point, and I'd be surprised if I haven't hurt them. I'm not under some sort of illusion that I will find someone to match all my ideals, but I'm not about to throw them out the window, either!
I am also not naively referring to frivolous wants. I don't think having hobbies in common or even really shared interests is necessary; most of the good couples I know are vastly different in many ways. I like to think that's part of the excitement is learning about someone else's interests and expanding your horizons. But shouldn't certain things be immovable requirements? And can we please stop telling people that they need to leave those behind?! How desperately do we need to remove our singleness? If we weren't a society that held everyone to this unrealistic and unhealthy idea of incompleteness without a romantic relationship, maybe there'd be a little less pressure to take just anything.
This is all not to say that anyone isn't worth your while; that you're too good for anyone, but rather what is healthy for you and what do you need? Where are you at? Almost every time I've gotten frustrated and frankly bored of being single, I circle back to the conclusion that I'm actually okay with it because I still have a lot to figure out. No person is going to make me whole, or complete, or satisfy any unfulfilled part of my life. This is likely different in a secular mindset, so I guess if I even have any non-believing readers...disregard? Then again not, because the reality is that it is not healthy, no matter what your religious affiliations, for your identity to be revealed through the filter of one other person. But that's another rant for another time.
If anything, all I've ever seen from settling is heartache and identity crisis. I recently told a friend who was evaluating a dating relationship, if you have to say the words "we could make it work", it's probably not worth trying to. I think we have a tough time being honest enough with ourselves that we feel insecure being alone. That being alone requires us to walk into parties by ourselves, or have a Friday night with nothing to do, go stag to a wedding and risk sitting at the table while others dance. Rather, I think those moments build character; there's something to be said for learning that you have value for being yourself, without anyone else.
Saturday, July 12, 2014
On Going On 24
With my next birthday rolling around, I thought to myself today, Ahh, finally I won't have to say I'm twenty-three.
As if being 24 is all that different. This has been a strange age; I feel like I've never had so many people speak to me in a derogatory nature of 23 year olds as the elite class of especially naive humans. I know not to take offense, as they likely don't mean anything by it -- more than likely they forgot that I am in fact lumped into whatever their ideas are about 23 year olds. The time it bothers me is when it's followed up by, "Ugh!...Wait, how old are you?" I might as well answer "I'm naive, overly self-confident, and stubborn years old." Or when I first meet people, and the age question comes up all-too quickly.
See, being my age doesn't actually bother me, just that anyone would ever assume anything about me based on it, especially that it might automatically make me simultaneously naive and a know-it-all. If anything, that's where the adolescent yearning to age comes from, but the sick and twisted part is that we can never quite comprehend the part about getting older. That part is important. Yet, no matter how much anyone forewarns that getting older is also hard and that you probably don't want to actually get older, you want to because then maybe you'll feel less defined by however young you are.
And in one moment of looking at myself in the mirror, washing my hands and thinking how I will finally answer that question with "I'm 24," -- never mind that oh my gosh I AM getting older -- I realized it does not matter. Chasing after the next mile marker of time only wastes the in-between; the now.
Anyway, those who know me don't write me off based on my age, and those who do [write me off], just don't know me well enough to know better. Another lesson in grace, this one wherein I swallow my pride and listen to running mouths.
As if being 24 is all that different. This has been a strange age; I feel like I've never had so many people speak to me in a derogatory nature of 23 year olds as the elite class of especially naive humans. I know not to take offense, as they likely don't mean anything by it -- more than likely they forgot that I am in fact lumped into whatever their ideas are about 23 year olds. The time it bothers me is when it's followed up by, "Ugh!...Wait, how old are you?" I might as well answer "I'm naive, overly self-confident, and stubborn years old." Or when I first meet people, and the age question comes up all-too quickly.
See, being my age doesn't actually bother me, just that anyone would ever assume anything about me based on it, especially that it might automatically make me simultaneously naive and a know-it-all. If anything, that's where the adolescent yearning to age comes from, but the sick and twisted part is that we can never quite comprehend the part about getting older. That part is important. Yet, no matter how much anyone forewarns that getting older is also hard and that you probably don't want to actually get older, you want to because then maybe you'll feel less defined by however young you are.
And in one moment of looking at myself in the mirror, washing my hands and thinking how I will finally answer that question with "I'm 24," -- never mind that oh my gosh I AM getting older -- I realized it does not matter. Chasing after the next mile marker of time only wastes the in-between; the now.
Anyway, those who know me don't write me off based on my age, and those who do [write me off], just don't know me well enough to know better. Another lesson in grace, this one wherein I swallow my pride and listen to running mouths.
Friday, July 04, 2014
What Does Being Christian Even Mean?
I find it interesting that there are so many definitions of what it means to be Christian. There are definitions from the inside, which tend to vary widely between denominations or doctrines, and then there are the perceptions of non-Christians. I often think that being a Christian is a bizarre thing, that if I wasn't one, I myself would probably find quite strange.
However, having been raised Christian, I grew up with some ideas of what being one meant by the things that were rote. We went to church every Sunday like clockwork, my siblings and I went to private grade school, and as a family we rarely ate dinner without praying a simple prayer before hand. Thankfully, in my adolescence, in the midst of some of the great hardship of my thus far young life, God got a hold of me in a way that broke through my misconception. So while I would say I was raised Christian, there is a specific time I'd say I became one. Unfortunately that's not necessarily what I'm writing about here, now.
Growing up in it long before I understood it on a personal level, there were periods of time where I felt like I saw through a lot of things; like there were parts of being a Christian that I didn't like. I took a break from church for a while when I felt like it didn't fit what I was feeling like God is about. Looking back on that time, my faith was by no means on the rocks, but on the contrary there were many moments of deeper intimacy with God than I even feel like I've had in a while, and I'm really thankful for it. I learned a bit about how faith isn't dependent on church, which began what I think is a long journey of figuring out that being a Christian doesn't mean what so many of us think.
Admittedly, I often struggle to tell someone I'm a christian, not at all because of what it means to me, but because of whatever connotation or stigma the word may have to them.
Being a Christian doesn't mean voting republican. It isn't defined by my stance on gay marriage. It's not in my tattoos, or nullified by them. It's also not nullified by swearing, or proved by withstanding. My faith is not upheld by listening solely to Christian music. Being Christian isn't dependent on your ability to abstain from sex outside of marriage. It's not by ritually reading the Bible. It's not in evangelizing from a ladder on a street. It's definitely not holding signs on the street condemning people; it's not condemning people. It's not judging. It's not segregating. It's not obligatory. It's not hinged on saying "Grace" before a meal. It's not hinged on using the right lingo.
To be a Christian means [to me] that you have had a personal revelation of the merit and reality of the death of Christ, as it pertains to your life, and have acknowledged God as giving that gift. There are so many facets and pieces that come after that, but they do not define one's adherence to the identity of being saved by Jesus. The etymology of the word "Christian" even implies a belonging; as in slave ownership. That might sound scary to some, but I think that with the understanding of what that personal realization of the cross is, there is a feeling of indebtedness, of service which is born from thankfulness. It is wanting to serve the One who you know saved you. That is a better definition of "Christian".
No doubt, from this Christian life should come fruit; good things, but those look much different than the many stereotypes would have us believe. It means a selflessness. It is a countenance of grace. It is a life lived with and seeking wisdom. It is self-control. It's showing mercy, and not judgment. A Christian life should display love. A Christian life should display hope. It should display a relationship with God in which He allows you to partner with Him in heavenly works, not because you are doing what a Christian should do, but you have acknowledged your need for Him in your life and are open to following the example of Christ.
However, having been raised Christian, I grew up with some ideas of what being one meant by the things that were rote. We went to church every Sunday like clockwork, my siblings and I went to private grade school, and as a family we rarely ate dinner without praying a simple prayer before hand. Thankfully, in my adolescence, in the midst of some of the great hardship of my thus far young life, God got a hold of me in a way that broke through my misconception. So while I would say I was raised Christian, there is a specific time I'd say I became one. Unfortunately that's not necessarily what I'm writing about here, now.
Growing up in it long before I understood it on a personal level, there were periods of time where I felt like I saw through a lot of things; like there were parts of being a Christian that I didn't like. I took a break from church for a while when I felt like it didn't fit what I was feeling like God is about. Looking back on that time, my faith was by no means on the rocks, but on the contrary there were many moments of deeper intimacy with God than I even feel like I've had in a while, and I'm really thankful for it. I learned a bit about how faith isn't dependent on church, which began what I think is a long journey of figuring out that being a Christian doesn't mean what so many of us think.
Admittedly, I often struggle to tell someone I'm a christian, not at all because of what it means to me, but because of whatever connotation or stigma the word may have to them.
Being a Christian doesn't mean voting republican. It isn't defined by my stance on gay marriage. It's not in my tattoos, or nullified by them. It's also not nullified by swearing, or proved by withstanding. My faith is not upheld by listening solely to Christian music. Being Christian isn't dependent on your ability to abstain from sex outside of marriage. It's not by ritually reading the Bible. It's not in evangelizing from a ladder on a street. It's definitely not holding signs on the street condemning people; it's not condemning people. It's not judging. It's not segregating. It's not obligatory. It's not hinged on saying "Grace" before a meal. It's not hinged on using the right lingo.
To be a Christian means [to me] that you have had a personal revelation of the merit and reality of the death of Christ, as it pertains to your life, and have acknowledged God as giving that gift. There are so many facets and pieces that come after that, but they do not define one's adherence to the identity of being saved by Jesus. The etymology of the word "Christian" even implies a belonging; as in slave ownership. That might sound scary to some, but I think that with the understanding of what that personal realization of the cross is, there is a feeling of indebtedness, of service which is born from thankfulness. It is wanting to serve the One who you know saved you. That is a better definition of "Christian".
No doubt, from this Christian life should come fruit; good things, but those look much different than the many stereotypes would have us believe. It means a selflessness. It is a countenance of grace. It is a life lived with and seeking wisdom. It is self-control. It's showing mercy, and not judgment. A Christian life should display love. A Christian life should display hope. It should display a relationship with God in which He allows you to partner with Him in heavenly works, not because you are doing what a Christian should do, but you have acknowledged your need for Him in your life and are open to following the example of Christ.
Wednesday, June 25, 2014
The Good & Perfect Giver
If you have ever been burned in a situation you know the feeling of being, as they say, gun-shy. Once it's happened in a big way, it's easier to recognize an arguably justifiable hesitancy in other areas or seasons of life. I have had it happen in my expectations. One particular instance became a mark on my life, even if only to myself.
See, I had a grand plan and expectations from the bottom of my heart to the top: to go to Paris. It might seem frivolous, but it was a life dream of mine and as Audrey Hepburn famously said, "Paris is always a good idea." She wouldn't lie, not with those big glistening eyes! I set my heart right on my own plans that I crafted. I even did all steps to get myself there, save for one thing on which I hesitated...buying my plane ticket.
I had just begun attending my church, and returning to a life immersed in a community of believers after a year and a half of solitary faith. In hindsight, of course, it is so clear to me now - knowing all that I have learned in the just over five years I've spent at Mercy Vineyard - that I didn't even think to really see if I was supposed to go. Thankfully, God steered me in my conscience, and I could not manage to buy that plane ticket. The date edged closer, and though I constantly talked as if I was going, I never bought it. At a point of no particular consequence or significance in my memory, I came to the conclusion it would be irresponsible for me to go, and quite frankly a terrible decision. And again, in retrospect, I was trying to force something that just wasn't.
I didn't really express the disappointment I felt to anyone. In August, shortly following my decision to stay stateside, I went to a Vineyard conference in Duluth with some friends. Again, though insignificant in memory, something in the teaching or singing prompted me to go up to the front to get prayer (in my early months of Mercy every call to receive prayer was for me; I lived up front of the church getting prayer!) Despite what I asked for prayer for being completely unrelated, the woman who prayed for me, Amy (the older sister of my now best friend) having never met me or knowing anything of my life, she spoke right to the part of my heart that broke for my crushed dream. Even her words are lost in my memory, but the sentiment is absolutely not. I was rocked that a perfect stranger not only knew exactly what was on my heart, but took the risk to speak to it what she heard God saying.
Part of it was, God knows the huge disappointment on your heart, but He wants you to know He has something even greater in store. I didn't know the full weight of what that would look like, but in that instant the big dream broken into pieces and the unknown of the immediate future were peripheral. God just spoke to my heart, what I really needed to hear. And He wasn't lying.
To this day, I will say Paris was the best thing I've done in my life. It was far beyond what I could have imagined...just like God had told me through Amy. That time was not only a huge blessing for all it encompassed, but a great lesson in patience, trust, discernment, and wisdom. For me, it is one of the things in my life that exemplifies a characteristic of God that I firmly believe in: He is a good and perfect giver. Often, the reality of having been given such a great gift hits me, and it makes me cry. It's already come and gone, and I still can't believe it was given to me. My heart bobs at the thought; both sad that it's gone, and joyful that it was mine.
Now, when faced circumstances that go against the grain of my wants - though I may have to remind myself - this is the lens I view it through. I find peace in knowing that, whatever comes, He doesn't disappoint, rather He surpasses, and is lavish.
See, I had a grand plan and expectations from the bottom of my heart to the top: to go to Paris. It might seem frivolous, but it was a life dream of mine and as Audrey Hepburn famously said, "Paris is always a good idea." She wouldn't lie, not with those big glistening eyes! I set my heart right on my own plans that I crafted. I even did all steps to get myself there, save for one thing on which I hesitated...buying my plane ticket.
I had just begun attending my church, and returning to a life immersed in a community of believers after a year and a half of solitary faith. In hindsight, of course, it is so clear to me now - knowing all that I have learned in the just over five years I've spent at Mercy Vineyard - that I didn't even think to really see if I was supposed to go. Thankfully, God steered me in my conscience, and I could not manage to buy that plane ticket. The date edged closer, and though I constantly talked as if I was going, I never bought it. At a point of no particular consequence or significance in my memory, I came to the conclusion it would be irresponsible for me to go, and quite frankly a terrible decision. And again, in retrospect, I was trying to force something that just wasn't.
I didn't really express the disappointment I felt to anyone. In August, shortly following my decision to stay stateside, I went to a Vineyard conference in Duluth with some friends. Again, though insignificant in memory, something in the teaching or singing prompted me to go up to the front to get prayer (in my early months of Mercy every call to receive prayer was for me; I lived up front of the church getting prayer!) Despite what I asked for prayer for being completely unrelated, the woman who prayed for me, Amy (the older sister of my now best friend) having never met me or knowing anything of my life, she spoke right to the part of my heart that broke for my crushed dream. Even her words are lost in my memory, but the sentiment is absolutely not. I was rocked that a perfect stranger not only knew exactly what was on my heart, but took the risk to speak to it what she heard God saying.
Part of it was, God knows the huge disappointment on your heart, but He wants you to know He has something even greater in store. I didn't know the full weight of what that would look like, but in that instant the big dream broken into pieces and the unknown of the immediate future were peripheral. God just spoke to my heart, what I really needed to hear. And He wasn't lying.
To this day, I will say Paris was the best thing I've done in my life. It was far beyond what I could have imagined...just like God had told me through Amy. That time was not only a huge blessing for all it encompassed, but a great lesson in patience, trust, discernment, and wisdom. For me, it is one of the things in my life that exemplifies a characteristic of God that I firmly believe in: He is a good and perfect giver. Often, the reality of having been given such a great gift hits me, and it makes me cry. It's already come and gone, and I still can't believe it was given to me. My heart bobs at the thought; both sad that it's gone, and joyful that it was mine.
Now, when faced circumstances that go against the grain of my wants - though I may have to remind myself - this is the lens I view it through. I find peace in knowing that, whatever comes, He doesn't disappoint, rather He surpasses, and is lavish.
"As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways...declares the LORD." Isaiah 55:9
Thursday, June 12, 2014
Re: Dateless
I find it laughable that such an absurd, circular, and slightly nonsensical post such as this ("Dateless") gained so much traffic...and a little sad. See, I've written so much more! I write so many more important things (or so I think). Should I assume that all of my readers (and facebook friends) are highly invested in my romantic status? Do me a favor, go pick another title and read it til the end! Read a freaking poem or two! (Here's a favorite) Have a laugh, take on a challenge...read this weird monologue-y thing.
Well, for whatever reason that is now my most popular post in all the seven plus year history of my blog! Thanks for reading and...I'll keep you updated?
For now, enjoy:
Click here for an awesome song!
Well, for whatever reason that is now my most popular post in all the seven plus year history of my blog! Thanks for reading and...I'll keep you updated?
For now, enjoy:
Click here for an awesome song!
Thursday, June 05, 2014
Dateless
I am in this really strange limbo in regards to my feelings toward being single. (I tend to stray from writing about it for fear of coming off as pathetic.) The older I get, the more I learn to like it; the more I'm happy that I'm figuring myself out, by myself and I don't need the "help" of a significant other to do that. The more I go through infatuations, the more my taste is refined. There are ebbs and flows, from the moping due to lack of a movie-watching cuddle-buddy, to decidedly deciding that I don't care if I ever "meet somebody"!
Lately it's been: "I just really want to go on a date." It's a boredom stage more than anything, because you see it's not quite so simple as some silly part of me makes it out to be. I don't really want to date.
A friend of mine suggested OkCupid. "You should just go on some dates," she said. Let me tell you, that place is disheartening! That's not to slam people for using it, by any means, it just didn't exactly encourage me in my half-hearted search in any way. It made me scared that having standards of any kind, never mind factoring in interest or attraction, is an impossible feat. Anyway, I don't think e-dating is for me, evaluating the chemistry is too important an initial factor.
Thankfully I am, what I like to call, Happily Picky. While I would love to just go on some dates, I have this nagging pragmatic side that knows it'd be a waste of time. I do not actually have interest in dating random people, for the heck of it. Don't get me wrong, I love meeting people, getting to know them, that's all well and good, but slap the label of a date on it and it changes everything. I'm not afraid to talk to men, in fact I'm an excellent flirt, when it doesn't count. But when I'm interested, nearly all self-confidence tries to leave...usually via the shakes. This had me thinking maybe I could try some dates in an effort to challenge myself, but it'd still be unfair because I know myself well enough to know when it's just not happening. And when it is, I'm nervous as hell.
Whenever anyone inquires as to "what you're looking for", they always seem to follow it with some solid criticism that, "If you don't want to be single you..." might have lower those standards. Forever. Lower my standards forever, or be single forever. (I can already smell the kick-backs of, "Well, not your standards, just some things..." Even then.)
But then, the question really is: do I not want to be single, though? No, I'm okay...but I could go on a date.
Lately it's been: "I just really want to go on a date." It's a boredom stage more than anything, because you see it's not quite so simple as some silly part of me makes it out to be. I don't really want to date.
A friend of mine suggested OkCupid. "You should just go on some dates," she said. Let me tell you, that place is disheartening! That's not to slam people for using it, by any means, it just didn't exactly encourage me in my half-hearted search in any way. It made me scared that having standards of any kind, never mind factoring in interest or attraction, is an impossible feat. Anyway, I don't think e-dating is for me, evaluating the chemistry is too important an initial factor.
Thankfully I am, what I like to call, Happily Picky. While I would love to just go on some dates, I have this nagging pragmatic side that knows it'd be a waste of time. I do not actually have interest in dating random people, for the heck of it. Don't get me wrong, I love meeting people, getting to know them, that's all well and good, but slap the label of a date on it and it changes everything. I'm not afraid to talk to men, in fact I'm an excellent flirt, when it doesn't count. But when I'm interested, nearly all self-confidence tries to leave...usually via the shakes. This had me thinking maybe I could try some dates in an effort to challenge myself, but it'd still be unfair because I know myself well enough to know when it's just not happening. And when it is, I'm nervous as hell.
Whenever anyone inquires as to "what you're looking for", they always seem to follow it with some solid criticism that, "If you don't want to be single you..." might have lower those standards. Forever. Lower my standards forever, or be single forever. (I can already smell the kick-backs of, "Well, not your standards, just some things..." Even then.)
But then, the question really is: do I not want to be single, though? No, I'm okay...but I could go on a date.
Monday, June 02, 2014
Off the Handle
I love you but
I can't always hover
wondering if
you'll fly off the handle
knowing that what I've learned
doesn't even hold a candle
to the way it makes me feel
and makes my heart reel
as the fighter in me rises
and the two struggle to find compromises
so when it settles
I try my best to let it be
I try my best to leave
Only then to fight back tears,
which I've turned into anger over the years
Because it's never been fair
I only just learned to be okay there
Don't bother to understand
Don't dare to try
Because the spare second you can spare
Doesn't show me that you care
That you make me cry
Until the need to be validated and justified
At the expense of others has died
Don't find it a surprise
That I can't always look you in the eyes.
I can't always hover
wondering if
you'll fly off the handle
knowing that what I've learned
doesn't even hold a candle
to the way it makes me feel
and makes my heart reel
as the fighter in me rises
and the two struggle to find compromises
so when it settles
I try my best to let it be
I try my best to leave
Only then to fight back tears,
which I've turned into anger over the years
Because it's never been fair
I only just learned to be okay there
Don't bother to understand
Don't dare to try
Because the spare second you can spare
Doesn't show me that you care
That you make me cry
Until the need to be validated and justified
At the expense of others has died
Don't find it a surprise
That I can't always look you in the eyes.
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