Monthly Archives: October 2012

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10/29/2012

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Define “Beauty”

Human beings have a really bad habit of comparing ourselves to others. We also have a horrible habit of declaring some people more beautiful than others. As if we have a right to declare one of God’s masterpieces more perfect than the next. And maybe it has everything to do with the fact that I have an extremely vulnerable post going up on the Devotional Diva website tomorrow, but I want to take a moment and talk about beauty.

If you’re like most women, you probably don’t believe that you’re beautiful. You don’t believe you’re valuable. And I’m willing to bet that you have features you hate.

Because someone once told you what beautiful was, and you never quite fit the mold.

Two months ago, I stumbled across a post on Good Women Project that recommended I write my body a love letter. It was more of an apology. For all the years I took it for granted. For all the times I convinced myself not to care about my appearance. For all the years I resented my body because I knew what the genetics said I could have been. But after twenty-one years, I finally penned the words:

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Because we all have our idea of what beautiful is, and you were never mine.”

And I told myself I’m beautiful. I praised the features I love rather than critiqued the ones I hate. It was a healing experience. A powerful experience. An experience I would recommend  to every woman on the planet.

Write your body a love letter. Because you’re beautiful like that.

Because for years and years, you’ve fed yourself lies for breakfast, lunch, and dinner; and you deserve a little truth in your diet.

You deserve the kind of truth that Hannah Brencher weaves into her blog post about bullying our bodies.
You deserve the kind of love letter that compares you to a breathtaking sunset.
You deserve to know that God made you beautiful.
And you deserve to hear it from yourself.

So write your body a love letter. Be honest. Be kind. And be sure to tell yourself you’re beautiful.

Because you are.

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10/26/2012

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Getting Honest

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Whatever Happened to World Peace?


Blame it on the fact that I have close ties with a missions organization that keeps me updated on what is happening all around the world, but I’ve been thinking about the elusive subject of world peace. I know, I sound like I belong in a beauty pageant, but before you start congratulating me on my ambitions to bring harmony to the universe, let me just say that I don’t think it’s possible.

I’m not trying to get all political, but when I hear people talk about the upcoming election as if it will make or break America, I just have to shake my head. Because in my opinion, America is already broken—yet another piece of a fallen world. And when I take a Biblical look at what has to happen before Jesus returns, I don’t see things getting any better. I just don’t. But the real reason I don’t believe we will ever achieve world peace is verses like Luke 12:52:

“Do you think I came to bring peace on earth? No, I tell you, but division.”

The simple fact of the matter is that when Jesus came to earth, the people of Israel were expecting a Messiah who would liberate them from Rome. But did Jesus ever involve Himself in earthly politics? Well, aside from the time He instructed someone to “give to Caesar what is Caesar’s” (Matt. 22:21), He didn’t really talk much about the nation that ruled over Israel.

He did make it abundantly clear, however, that His Kingdom is not of this world. Therefore, the peace He offers is not for our world, but for our hearts.

So many people will tell you that God wants peace and prosperity for His people as if that means we will live a life of ease. Tell that to the believers who are in prison. Tell that to the Christians in Egypt who are being forced out of their homes for bearing God’s name. Tell that to Jesus as He suffered and died on a cross for sins that were not His own.

God does want us to be prosperous, but maybe His idea of prosperity is a little different from ours. My family has never had much by the world’s standards, but we have harmony in our home. I’ll take that kind of prosperity over wealth and discord any day.

We live in a fallen world that will always have division. There will be hatred and war and persecution until the day Jesus comes back to set everything right for good. But no matter what takes place on the surface of our world, the peace of God is transforming lives throughout the nations.

Last weekend, I was at a conference where two men who are very dear to my heart were called up on stage. The speaker then explained that one man had come from a long line of Arabs while the other had come from a long line of Jews. “Tell them how much you love the Lord and each other,” he instructed.

Then I witnessed the only hug I’ve ever seen receive a standing ovation.

Because while Muslims and Jews will be at odds until the end of the world, God took these two enemies and made them brothers. He vanquished a hatred that was centuries old and replaced it with a love that knows no bounds. And that’s why I believe that the peace Jesus offers is more than skin deep; it sinks into the deepest part of our souls and heals our most broken pieces so that we can be at peace even as the world is crumbling around us.

And that, I believe, is so much better than the temporary fix we’ve been waiting for all our lives.

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10/15/2012

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Live the Journey

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Full Circle

There’s a rule about stories (that may or may not be unspoken) that the story needs to come full circle. It needs to begin with somewhat of a theme or idea that ties into the ending. That’s what makes a good story. And that is why most of us aren’t writing novels about our lives. We have too many loose ends. Too many things that don’t make sense, and won’t make sense this side of heaven. In a novel, things have to be justifiable… otherwise the reader won’t buy into it. In life, we just have to trust that the Author knows what He’s doing… even when we think the pages of our lives look like a dozen different story ideas crammed between the covers of one book.

Maybe that’s why I was so surprised to find that my last journal has the makings of a novel. Okay, so maybe the stories in the middle aren’t exactly what anyone would want to read (or what I would want anyone to read), but the past seven months of my life have truly come full circle. For example… Page One: March 3, 2012 talks about how rough my recent transition in life was and how desperate I am for Jesus. Then it says this:

I’ve taken some advice from my brother’s musical friend Phil Collins and recognized that I’m on my way. And instead of dreading the future–instead of letting the uncertainties consume my heart–I choose to love every step I take.

I finished that same journal last night with an entry that began with the words, “Today was beautiful–and I’m not just talking about the weather.” And the final paragraph–my farewell words to posterity–read:

Life is a journey with unexpected twists in the road–an adventure far beyond my imagining. And I’m finally not ripping to find the answers. I’m finally content with seeing just this one step. So tell everybody I’m on my way… and I’m loving every step I take.

So, it may not be novel material, but for now I’m content to know that God is bringing my story full circle. Today, I’m satisfied to trust that God is alive and at work in my life and that He will not leave a work unfinished.

So if you’re finding that your life feels like a dozen stories mixed up in one, that’s okay. Because you’re on your way. God is still working on bringing you full circle. And He will bring you full circle… many times in your life.

(Side Note: If you’re still needing a pick-me-up, I recommend Phil Collins. He’s always good for that.)

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10/12/2012

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A Letter to My Fears

A year ago, I conquered you—held you back for long enough to say to my parents, “So, I’m leaving my job because I just have to write full time. And I know I’ll probably be bussing tables or something just to pay the bills, but what do you think?”

And even as I waited for them to tell me what they thought, I knew what I thought—what you would have me think. This was ridiculous. This was impossible. How could I even think such a thing? And I half-expected my parents to be the rational adults they are and tell me the same thing. But if I conquered you for a moment, my dad wiped you away forever when he said the words, “You have your father’s blessing,” which are words every daughter needs to hear at least once in her lifetime. Because if my father could approve of me just barely getting by, then you had no room to protest.

I chose the words that would propel me onward over the doubts that held me back.

Not that you wouldn’t resurface. Not that you wouldn’t come knocking on my door saying, “About that writing gig… How’s that going for you?” As if you didn’t know I struggle. As if you hadn’t figured out that words are hard to birth some days.

And people might say that your constant presence in my life means that I haven’t conquered you after all. But we both know the truth. We both know there is a difference between the Fear of last year and the Fear of today. While you may still come knocking on my door uninvited, I certainly don’t ask you to come in and stay awhile. Not anymore.

No sir, I’ve wised up to your ways. Now, when I open the door to see your face, I tell you you’ve got the wrong address. The girl you’re looking for has long moved on and, no, I don’t know where to find her.

And I might be the sort of person who would kindly take you in, except my table is already full of new friends. Friends like Hope and Promise and Faith and Trust and Believing, and, well, I’m just not sure there’s room for one more. Besides, you sort of give my friends a bad feeling, and everyone knows that you should never ignore a friend’s warning about a guy. And when you have five friends who are all sharing the same disapproval… Well, call it an intervention if you must, but I’m cutting you out of my life for good.

I used to be in this dead-end relationship with you, but I’ve realized the error of my ways. And don’t think you can come crawling back here and sweet-talk your way back into my heart when I’m feeling a little down.

You see, this world holds something better for me, and you didn’t want me to see it because you knew it meant leaving you. And you knew I had it in me to leave or you wouldn’t have tried to hide the truth for so long.

So this is goodbye—I’m cutting my ties. And don’t you come knocking around here, no sir. Don’t you dare come knocking.

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10/08/2012

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Paradoxes and Mysteries

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You Can’t Touch Her

I watched a handful of preschoolers chase one of their little friends around a playground when, suddenly, the little girl who was being chased made a beeline for my arms. I held her to my chest and shooed the other kids away with my free arm while explaining, “I’m base. You can’t touch her as long as I’ve got her.”

So the kids backed up and waited until Charleigh gained the courage to run again. She jumped up, knowing she didn’t have to outrun the others for long—just long enough. Once around the playground, back into my arms, and repeat.

Except one time, Charleigh didn’t make it back into my arms. One time, she didn’t quite run fast enough. One time, I watched her get tackled by one of her little friends. She was taking a beating, and even though they were all laughing and enjoying themselves, I knew it was only a matter of time before things got out of control and someone got injured.

It was time to change the rules.

I stood to my feet, cleared a few preschoolers out of my path, and pulled Charleigh into my arms. “Ah, ah,” I warned when the other kids rushed at us. “You can’t touch her; I’m base, remember?”

I’ve been replaying that scene in my mind for weeks because, sometimes, I feel a lot like Charleigh. When life swells up all around me and I’m starting to feel overwhelmed, I just know that I’ve got to make it back to God’s arms and it will all be okay. He holds me close as I catch my breath and my heart rate returns to normal. He soothes me and comforts me, stroking my hair, sheltering me from all those things that threaten to consume me.

Because He’s base, remember? And nothing can touch me as long as I’m in His arms.

Then I’m off again to repeat the same pattern. Only sometimes, like Charleigh, I don’t quite make it back in time. Sometimes I find that life overwhelms me and I’m lying facedown in the dirt. And just when I think I’ll never get back up, the rules change. The base moves.

And God is there, picking me up, brushing me off, and saying to my struggles, “Ah, ah. You can’t touch her; I’m base, remember?”

Sometimes God lets us run to Him. He stands there with open arms, waiting to be the shelter we so desperately need because He wants for us to seek Him. He wants for us to declare our need for Him. And we’re the ones who have to come crawling back to fall at His feet and say, “God, I need You right now. I need You so bad.”

But sometimes… Sometimes we’re in too deep. Sometimes it hurts too much to crawl. Sometimes we can’t quite make it back on our own.

And that’s when the rules change.

That’s when God stands to His feet and pushes our struggles out of the way until there’s nothing left but Him and us. That’s when we’re safe again.

So if life is beating you down, just turn around and see that He’s standing there, arms outstretched, waiting for you to fall into the warmth of His embrace. Waiting for you to let Him set things right.

Because He’s base, remember? And nothing can touch you as long as you’re in His arms.

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10/05/2012

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Things That Inspire

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Don’t Even Think About Quitting

Last weekend, I watched a friend attempt to run a 100k. (That’s 62 miles for those of you who are as uneducated as I was before this momentous day.) So there I was at the halfway point with this big sign that read, “Don’t Even Think About Quitting” when I saw him walking in the distance.

That’s right. Not running; walking. And it wasn’t even speed-walking or “just saving my energy until the next stretch” walking. It was a genuine “something went wrong and my friend was well-past-the-point-of-merely-thinking-about-quitting” walking.

So, my sign didn’t work too well because my friend blew his knee and sort of had to quit. Which is really not an encouraging end to what was supposed to be a motivational story. But the thing is… sometimes quitting is the best possible thing you can do. Because sometimes running makes it worse, and then you’re down for weeks with an injury that could have easily been avoided.

But I’m willing to bet that in this race called life, most times—most times—when your lungs are burning and your calves are cramping and you’re thinking you won’t be able to make it over that next hill, you just need to hear someone cheering you on. You simply need to look up and see that sign that reads,
“Don’t Even Think About Quitting.”

That’s what gives you the drive to make it through another mile, another checkpoint, another incline.

So if it’s all right with you, I want to be your fan club today. I want to be the person who stands on the sidelines, jumping up and down while screaming my lungs out that you -yes, you- can do it. You’ve got what it takes. I believe in you.

And I would be willing to jump in the race and run alongside you if that’s what it takes to convince you that you can make it a little farther. Just a little farther. Because you’re almost there, really. At least, you’re much closer than you were a few miles back. You’ve got this. Really, you’ve got it.

So no matter how loudly your lungs scream for air, no matter how greatly your calf muscles are protesting, no matter how daunting that next incline appears…

Don’t You Think—Even Think—About Quitting.

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10/01/2012

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The Night We Lit Up the World

I recently read a book called Permission to Speak Freely, which may explain some of the recent posts/conversations/letters I’ve been writing. There was a lot of the book that I disagreed with. A lot of things didn’t resonate with me or sit well in my stomach at all. But I loved the principal of it. I loved the idea that we all need to be a little bit more vulnerable. We all need permission to speak freely.

But one of the quotes that really struck me wasn’t about speaking freely at all. Toward the end of the book, the author quotes a friend saying, “As we grow up, we learn a great deal about the mysteries that perplexed us when we were small. We learn that the sun doesn’t go to bed after all. Our earth just turns away from her for a bit. The stars that look like diamonds sparkling in the sky are really nasty balls of flaming gas. And bit by bit, we surrender the magic that was our constant companion.”

I stared at those words. Blinked a few times. And then I dared to ask why. What’s wrong with believing in sleepy suns and skies filled with diamonds? What’s wrong with holding onto magic?

And I know I talk all the time about embracing magic and wonder and living that childlike faith that Jesus told His disciples they must have. It’s because I believe in it. I believe in letting yourself be awed by things that others may try to reason away.

Last week I spent an evening with two, beautiful preschoolers who introduced me to the magic of glow sand. We walked outside with our containers of blue and green and yellow and orange, sprinkling it across the ground until you would have believed that fairies had been dancing there.

The world was filled with wonder. The yard was aglow with pixie dust. I had it on my hands and in my hair and even between my toes. We laughed and we danced and we felt we could fly. It was magical. Absolutely magical.

But when you think about it, it was just sand. Gritty, dirty sand that would, in four hours, lose its sparkle. Like Cinderella’s carriage turning back into a pumpkin, the magic would be gone. And I would be in desperate need of a shower.

Most people might have considered that before they threw it in their hair. Most people might have been content to let the sand spill out on the ground, lighting up the night for a moment only to be forever lost to the world when morning came around. And you can probably bet that most people would not have sprinkled it over a friend’s shoulders while shouting, “Think happy thoughts!”

Because most people aren’t such big fans of Peter Pan and Neverland and all that “second star to the right and straight on ’til morning” nonsense. Most people, as it was quoted in Permission to Speak Freely, have bit by bit surrendered the magic that was our constant companion.

But I, for one, am not content to be one of those people.

I, for one, will continue to believe in suns that fall asleep and diamonds that sparkle in the night sky.

I, for one, will continue to light up the world with magic that glows only for a moment and wonder that dances forever in our hearts.

Because God never intended for us to lose our amazement. He never wanted us to walk through life scientifically explaining away the miracles He created.

No, I think He wanted us to live a little more like the children who kiss the sun goodnight and marvel at the endless amount of diamonds in the sky. I think He wanted us to hold onto wonder and light up the world with our belief that the world is magical after all.