{healthy is as healthy does...?}

I made caramels today. for no other reason than that a. i wanted to, and b. I've been craving apple cider caramel for a while, now. 

it took me some time,  though, to get around to them. i would have made caramel over a week ago, but dressing room mirrors and head-voices are vicious, and quite frankly, i didn't want to 'get fat'. 

i've heard people compare eating disorders to a toxic ex-boyfriend, because no matter how long it's been, they come around and sometimes, suddenly, no matter how wonderful life is without them, you can't breathe with how badly you want it back. 

because this whole healthy eating thing is hard, and it's unfamiliar and strange and so hard, and even though the toxicity kills, it's familiar and God knows sometimes life races on so fast and so new and so constantly changing that you would give anything for one day of the old familiar control.  

and some stores only work when you're a certain body type, and some clothes simply won't fit when you aren't starving yourself into them, and the thing that often kills me about my job is that it's one thing to discount perfect model pictures online as 'photo-shopped', but what do you do when they are standing right in front of you ordering off the menu hanging above your head? 

and i have come too far and fought too hard to turn around and throw it all away, but there have been days within the past week which were easier to manage on an empty stomach, and while i love my work dearly, 5am shifts have quickly crowded out what little devotional time i had. 

the typical response to 'i'm fat' is either a scoffed 'no, youre not!' or, my personal favorite, well-meaning advice regarding diet and that i ought to  'just eat healthy and workout', since no one seems to realize that working out or conventionally defined "healthy" eating isn't always an option for a girl wrestling with an eating disorder, because it will turn destructive. 

now, normal people usually mean that if i wish to feel better about myself, i ought to start running/weight-lifting/their personal exercise of choice, and eating more fruits and vegetables.

it is never quite that banal for me.

i either over-exercise, or under-eat, and usually both. 

for instance, last summer i destroyed my knee through excessive running. and, when i say excessive, i mean... running over ten miles per morning within a month of starting running, almost no rest days, and a tendency to deny myself food unless i had gotten in my run for that particular day. 

i literally wouldn't eat unless i had gone running. 

i've tried the "healthy eating" thing, too. It turns into counting calories and an unhealthy obsession with what my brother affectionately calls 'rabbit food' (aka...cucumbers and lettuce). i didn't eat protein. i wouldn't eat anything i didn't know the calorie count for, and absolutely refused to eat over 1000 calories per day. 

...all this while running....or frenetically doing crunches after my sister fell asleep because i had to work off the calories i had eaten that day. 

but I've come to a conclusion lately, that certain things aren't optional if I intend to function as a person. 

these are things like morning devotions, naps, runs, water, and healthy food. 

and by healthy? i don't mean just fruits and vegetables. 

because lately i've come to the conclusion that our definition of healthy eating isn't necessarily healthy. or good. and that weight loss shouldn't actually be the end goal of exercise. and while i've half known this mentally, i'm just starting to put it into practice.

see, the Apostle John, while writing to the churches, says that he is praying that they may prosper and 'be in good health', but, he adds, 'even as your soul prospers'. 

because there is so much more to health than the physical. 

i'll say it again. 

health is not solely defined by what you look like on the outside. 

health is a measure of the over-all well being of your entire person: emotionally, mentally, physically, spiritually, relationally. 

health isn't necessarily defined by what you do. it's defined by why you do it. 

therefore, if i am eating salads because i think i'm fat, because i hate myself, and isolating myself behind the familiar self-loathing, then that is not the healthy choice. 

conversely, if my entire family is sharing a meat, as in, mom made lasagna or something and everyone is actually sitting down to eat together, the healthy response would be to join in, instead of hiding in the kitchen with lettuce. 

today, the healthy response to my persistent craving for caramel was to make caramel, eat some, wrap up the rest, and now, craving satisfied, move on with life like a normal person instead of still stuck in the head-loop of 'must. not. eat.', which only makes me crabby and isolationist. 

yesterday i went for a run, my first all year, because work had been stressful, and i knew i was babysitting that night, and needed a little time outdoors. i walk/ran 20 minutes, and then came back inside. and tonight, i am going to sleep without doing the 50 squats on my work-out challenge, because i went running yesterday and this morning, and quite frankly, i don't need that. 

and when it comes to what it means to be healthy, i am learning to examine my motivation to determine whether i am being healthy or not. 

if i run because i need the fresh air, because it is time alone with God, because being out and moving invigorates me, and leave the mile-calculator behind, then it is in good health. 

but if i run because i think i'm fat, because my head is playing with me again, because i 'ate too much', then my motivation isn't health. it's fear.

if i make myself a salad because i'm craving green things, because they energize me and taste good, and because i simply want one, then my motivation is not based in sickness, but rather wellness. doing what is good for me on all levels, as opposed to trapped back into 'no sugar. no carbs. no fat. no more than 1000 calories a day'. 

and so often, i know, we tend to compare, and stereotype skinny and salads as healthy, when in reality, the size of your waist is not always an indicator of health. 

for me, today, healthy was making caramels and laughing with my little siblings. slipping outdoors at 5am to feel the morning on my skin and restraining myself from running too much too far too soon. healthy was fresh-baked bread and avocado asparagus salmon salad shared with a little brother who likes seafood almost as much as i do. 

and there's nothing inherently wrong with eating fruits and veggies, or working out. as a matter of fact, they are often beneficial. but for the love of God, salads aren't equivalent to health.

fruits and vegetables are good for you, yes, but there is no health in a miserable existence, tormented by the thought that anything other than salads and smoothies and green juice is unhealthy and therefore evil and must not be eaten. 

health - true health - encompasses the mind, soul, body, and spirit. 

it cannot be relegated to greens on a plate. 

{when a perfectionist and a latte collide}

"Hey...listen..." Dylan waits until I lift my head from my knees to face him. 

"forget about the expectations," he says firmly, a hand on my knee. "forget about what your dad or your boyfriend or anyone else expects, and just be. you're human like the rest of us. none of us is perfect, and all of us are perfect in our own way. but you can't always muscle yourself to perfection. your shoulders aren't broad enough to carry that weight. no one's are.  

"life is crazy and you don't always have to be in control. things will all work out. i have never seen anyone learn as fast as you have. you've gotten farther in under two weeks than most people do in months. so relax. it's okay. as long as you're satisfied with you, at the end of the day, that's all that matters." 

I have been gone long enough for him to run out and look for me, only to find me crouched on the ground behind the recycling bins, head buried in my arms, crying. 

see, most people don't cry over spilled milk, but...this perfectionist does. i recently started working at Uncommon Grounds, a coffee bagel shop in Saratoga, which is opening a new location up in Clifton Park, five minutes from my house. and i love my job. but, being the overachiever that i am, i have given myself absolutely no margin for error. 

i learned to make 'perfect' lattes and cappuccinos my first day of training, and it took me only two days before i was told i no longer needed to shadow anyone, because i knew what i was doing. 

but drawing latte art is harder than it looks. and i have spent all morning agonizing over it, wasting cup after cup of steamed milk and espresso. i have poured latte after latte within the space of the past two hours, and they are never quite perfect, and Dylan, who has been training the newbies meanwhile, points out that i am getting frustrated. he's right. 

he trained me last week. but the Clifton Park store opens on Monday, and while i can semi-draw in them, i still haven't gotten a perfect rosetta yet. it's not a requirement of the job, and while most people would shrug and move on and no one understands why this is such a big deal to me, i've been working at it for the past two hours, growing closer and closer to tears. 

Kat suggests i take a break, so i grab the crate of empty milk cartons, and take them out to the recycling bin, forgetting my coat in the process. instead of just dumping them in the bin and coming back inside, i lean against the huge trash can, safely hidden from view, and cry. 

by the time Dylan finds me, i am crouched on the ground, knees drawn up to my forehead. i can't get it perfect, and suddenly all the expectations of the past few weeks catch up with me, and yes i am having a meltdown, behind the recycle bins, over literal spilled milk. 

he comes and sits down next to me, puts a hand on my knee, asks what's wrong. i explain through tears that i can't get it right and it should be perfect but it isn't and what's wrong with me because i shouldn't even care and it's stupid but i need to make it perfect. 

he half-laughs. "I'm really glad you're working here, if only to break you of thinking that everything you do always has to be perfect. It's going to be harder for you than most people...because you've gotten away with being perfect for so long. but no one's perfect. and that's okay."

but it's not okay for me. it never has been. i have literally no chill.

i'm used to white-knuckling it, and the funny thing is that the harder you try, and the more tense you are, and the whiter your knuckles are....the less likely you are to be able to draw anything in your latte. you literally can not be tense and make latte art.

and see, everyone else is allowed to make mistakes, but not me. i do not require perfection of anyone else but myself. and one of the hardest things for me to adjust to over the past few days and my first week of work is that everyone's philosophy is that 'you learn by making mistakes'. 

i'm not used to that. i want a list of rules, and to be told not to break them. i'm not used to making mistakes and when anyone told me to do something differently next time, i would freak out because 'oh my gosh i did something wrong'.

but no one who corrected me cares like that. 

literally. you make a mistake. someone suggests what to do next time instead. and that's it. mistake forgotten. no big deal. 

Dylan explains. "you can't learn without making mistakes. learning requires comprehension and understanding, and doing it wrong a few times before you get it right. that's not the same as having a list of what you expect, and then just blindly doing."

but there are so many expectations on me right now, ranging from my GPA to my conduct around my boyfriend to learning how to drive, that i have no idea what to do when i cannot force perfection. 

and the worst part is...i should know this. 

it's not my job to be perfect. 

it's not my job to always have everything in order. to have everything under control. 

he's right. my shoulders aren't broad enough, and when i try to handle everything, i invariably break under the pressure. 

i can't make me perfect. but i am so used to just trying harder and gritting my teeth and white-knuckling my way into at least outwardly looking like i am fulfilling expectations, however unreasonable those expectations are. 

and honestly? it is unreasonable to expect myself to make the perfect rosetta within a single day. 

it is unreasonable to expect that between working 3-4 days a week and learning the ropes, i wouldn't be exhausted by the time i get home. 

it is unreasonable to expect that i will be able to seamlessly integrate a job that is almost full-time into my current schedule without time to adjust to full-time work on top of full-time school.

it is unreasonable to expect myself to learn how to drive within the space of an hour...or two...or even a month, honestly. 

it is unreasonable to expect myself to be perfect. 

and honestly? if i drive myself crazy trying to be perfect in and of myself...

where is the room for grace?

i texted a friend this week, in the middle of a panic attack because my GPA was literally .06 less than i wanted it to be, and she insisted that i give myself grace, but what if that is something that i have no idea how to do? 

and the entry in my devotional book is startling with its accuracy. 

"Here is the secret of Divine all-sufficiency, to come to the end of everything in ourselves and in our circumstances"....the passage is 2 Corinthians 12:10 'for when i am weak, then i am strong'....and my eyes fall on the previous verse. 

"But He said to me 'my grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness', therefore i will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses so that the power of Christ may rest upon me" 

i don't have to be perfect. 

why? 

because if i white-knuckle myself into outward perfection, then no one - not even me - gets to see God's power. 

i've heard it said that perfectionism is the slowest form of suicide. but i would also add that perhaps....just perhaps...perfectionism is one of the greatest inhibitors to being able to see God's power drastically on display in our lives. 

because if I can make myself perfect....if we can just try harder and get it all right... then where is our need for Him? 

where is our need for His grace? 

the Apostle Paul boasted in his imperfections, because if God could use such a man as himself, then He could use anyone. 

because... if it isn't my job to be perfect, then maybe....maybe...i can just rest? breathe? let go of my white-knuckled control and remind myself that God is literally the only one in the universe capable of perfection? 

and if "freedom will come when you lay it down", then it's beyond time i laid down the pressure to be perfect and all the unnecessary unreasonable expectations that i and others place upon me down at the feet of Jesus and just let go. 

'we could be glorious if we'd just give up being gods'

because we aren't. i'm not. you're not. we are only human. and when we take His job upon ourselves, we will break because our shoulders weren't built to carry the weight of the world. 

and His burden is easy because it isn't my job to be perfect. it's my job to follow Him and do my best, and, as the old Keith Green song goes, He'll take care of the rest. 

'you just keep doing your best
and pray that it's blessed
and Jesus takes care of the rest' 

it's beyond time that i let Him. 

{in His time}

do you ever feel like you're missing out on something? 

like...everyone else gets to go on adventures and do grand things, but you're just...lonely and stuck and waiting for your life to change, but nothing's changing, and everything you do just seems to sink you further into hopelessness?   

well, for me, that was the majority of my teenage years. 

feeling like i was missing out on all the exciting things that my friends were doing. 

...namely: dating. 

see, when i was a kid, i looked forward to being a teenager. to going on adventures and having lots of friends and then getting married by 18. to have stories to tell my kids of my teenage years. to feel like i was living life. to be pretty and perfect and popular and stay out late with friends and go to prom and all the stereotypical teenager things. 

to take artsy pictures and wear sexy dresses and be a size zero and kiss in the rain and decorate my bedroom with pictures and lights and go camping under the stars and be wild and crazy and whatever i wanted to be.

so.... basically everything tumblr and teen flicks. 

needless to say, my life didn't turn out quite how I had imagined it. between overprotective parents and a pretty bad heartbreak and the fact that - let's face it - I wasn't allowed to date and my mom and I fought almost every day about my clothing choices.... my teenage years consisted of feeling like I was looking out a window, watching bright colored lives flash by, while mine felt a lot like...well...Rapunzel in Tangled.

I kept hearing stories of my friends falling in love and having perfect kisses and learning to drive and getting jobs and sneaking out for midnight rendezvous' with their significant other, and copious pictures with their best friends, and honestly? 

i was jealous. really, really jealous. 

and not in a...I wish they didn't have that....but in a wistful, longing, why can't I have that? what is so wrong with me that my life is like this, and theirs is...perfect? 

i thought that my teen years would be laughing till it hurt, falling in love with someone wonderful, growing up and becoming a woman, getting my first kiss, prom dates and summer love, having a bevy of friends, and being self-confident. 

instead, the majority of my teenage memories consist of spiraling into an eating disorder, battling severe depression (and honestly, often losing), crying myself to sleep night after night at 3am, losing almost all of my friends, abusive relationships, hiding my self-harm addiction, and then, eventually, trying to recover. 

so...by the time Fall of my 18th year rolled around, I had pretty much given up on the whole 'teenager' thing. I had come to terms with the realization that while others' lives might work like that...well...it just wasn't meant to be. Not for me, at least. i was fairly content to be single, and figured that, whatever happened, i could make it work.  

i had finally stopped looking for a relationship. 

{note: don't you just love how God wrecks our plans, the moment we give up on what we want and want to know what He wants for us?}

and wouldn't you know it... not two months later, i was in a relationship with a man who is everything I could ever have hoped. 

he's absolutely wonderful.

and, in retrospect, it's ironic that the things I thought i had missed out on -and spent most of my teen years pining for - i finally get to do. 

but. instead of all those experiences and memories and firsts happening with boys scared silly of commitment - who left as soon as the going got rough, and mistook lust and raging hormones for love... 

i get to do them with the man I want to spend the rest of my life with. 

first dates. staying up under starry skies talking till midnight. dancing in the rain and fighting and making up and going on adventures and cute things and happy things and planning-for-our-future things. 

and honestly? looking back, I'm glad. I'm really really super glad that God didn't give me what I wanted when I wanted it. I'm glad He waited for His timing, and while I still maintain that my guardian angel had a hell of a hard time with me and probably begged God for reassignment more times than I can count.. 

I didn't miss a thing. 

i just get to do everything most people do - in their early teens with people they won't end up with - in my late teens, instead, with the man i want to marry. 

and yeah. i wouldn't trade this for anything. 

it's special and it's perfect, and while it isn't always easy, nothing in life is free from difficulty, and I would rather work through things with my one and only, as opposed to flitting from one relationship to the other.

it brings us closer, and, if i'm honest, I've needed this reminder lately that God knows best and His timing is always perfect. 

He didn't give me what I wanted when I wanted it. He gave it to me when I was ready to receive it....when I had finally given up on my own ideas for my life. 

and, honestly? his timing is a million times better than I could have dreamed. 

see... if God could take the things I thought I had missed out on, and give them to me in His timing, so much more marvelous than they would have been had I grabbed them in mine... He is capable of doing that in every area of my life. 

which is really hard for me to accept, impatient person that I am, and the waiting is never easy when you still feel stuck, but...

the words of an old memory verse come to mind, as the snow blizzard-swirls outside my window. 

"He has made everything beautiful in his time..." (Eccl. 3:11).. He'll take the mess and the miserable waiting, and someday He will make it all beautiful, and He'll do it in His time. 

not mine. 

never mine. 

but that's okay. 

because I am seeing the difference between His timing and mine, and His is worlds better. 

and so, I am learning how to be patient. 

I am learning how to wait. 

4 Myths Christians Believe About Relationships

I suppose it's probably overstated to say that many of the things they teach you in Youth Group or those teen seminars on sexual purity aren't exactly accurate.

I should hope that we know by now that a woman's worth is way more than an intact hymen or how many people she has loved before. I should hope that we have stopped measuring a man solely by his sex drive, or seeing all males as simply testosterone-driven animals.  

But lately, in the process of attempting to navigate the turbulent waters of what the world thinks relationships ought to be, and all the unrealistic expectations of the Christian community, I've encountered yet more myths and false assumptions about relationships. 

such as the following: 

1. Kissing Before Marriage = Premarital Sex 

The argument goes something like this: kissing leads to making out. making out leads to getting caught up in the power of your desire, which leads to clothes off and touching each other intimately, which in turn unavoidably leads to sex. 

Um. Not true. 

You can kiss without having sex. You can kiss without making out or having your hands all over the other person. Heck, you can kiss the person you love, alone in the backseat of a car and not have sex. You can kiss them completely alone in a car at night without having sex or taking off your clothes...and that doesn't mean that you love and desire them any less. 

Kissing before your wedding day is neither Biblically mandated, nor Biblically prohibited. It's a grey area. An area of Christian liberty and Christ-like love. For some couples, kissing is merely a way of expressing affection, and for others it's far more of a temptation and turn on. Some people believe that kissing before marriage is inherently wrong. Others just don't do it from a desire to please those around them...or in order to earn spiritual brownie points by 'waiting till their wedding day to share their first kiss'.

However, kissing itself isn't inherently wrong. (1 Cor 6:12-18)

But see, the question isn't 'is kissing before marriage right or wrong for all couples ever across the board?' 

The question is 'Is kissing something we have God's blessing and approval for at this particular time?'

Ask yourselves 'Are we both walking in His Spirit to the point where we can sense His leading, and are we following it? And is our decision to kiss (or not kiss) for the sake of showing off how spiritual we are, or is it rooted in a deep desire to honor Christ in our lives?' 

Those are the questions we should be asking around this issue. Because... you and I, in our own power, can't keep ourselves from stumbling. But the power of God inside us can. Therefore, the question is... .are we living our lives in the power of Christ's indwelling Spirit? And are we following His guidance, living from His strength? 

Secondly.... 

2. Emotional Purity Is A Thing...And You Can Lose It

This one makes me angry. The argument is that, the more 'pieces of your heart' you give away, the less you will be able to love your spouse.. the more you love, the less love you will have left for the one you end up with. 

Therefore, if you are in a relationship, emotional purity ambassadors advocate remaining distant and unattached. After all, you don't know for sure that you will marry this person, therefore, be afraid of vulnerability. Be afraid of opening up. Be afraid of trusting and being open with the person you are in a relationship with.

But.. you cannot. You cannot live an entire relationship in fear of caring for the other person. Relationships mean care. Relationships entail a deep concern for the other person. They necessitate trust. And if the greatest commandment is to love as you have been loved, then how will cutting yourself off from love fulfill that command? 

Additionally.. if your first relationship is expected to be your last...how are you supposed to know if you are truly in love, or merely infatuated? The difference is not always evident, especially to the one who is smitten. I thought I was going to marry the first man I thought I was in love with... turns out, I didn't even truly love him anyways. I was infatuated and under his spell, sure. But I wasn't truly in love with him. I believed myself to be, but now I know that marrying him would have been the biggest mistake of my life. 

Sometimes you have to live and love and learn... and God will teach you through the circumstances of your life. Sometimes attempting to spare yourself pain will instead bring greater pain later. 

Myth number 3... 

3. Setting rules will keep you pure. 

'How can a young man keep his way pure?' the Psalmist asks. 

For most Christians, the answer is to try harder....to set rules....to throw  up a detailed list of do's and don'ts and rules and regulations in order to muscle their way through this minefield of a temptation ground. 

However, the Scripture's answer isn't more man-made rules. 

'How can a young man keep his way pure? By guarding it according to Your word' (Ps. 119:9)

Man-made rules can be loopholed. They can be worked around and discarded and broken. And they are definitely not what is going to keep you in the will of God. 

But a deep desire for more of Jesus...a hunger for His holiness in your life...the promises of His word running through your head and heart....the Spirit of God living inside you, stopping and keeping you from anything not in your best interest? 

That is what will keep your way pure. Living out the love and life of Christ in all your interactions. Immersing your entire existence in the word of God. 

And, lastly, for the fourth and final point... 

4. You can make or break your own purity. 

Okay... Sex is not evil.

Again, for the people in the back: Sex is not evil. 

You are not inherently pure up until you have sex, at which point you are suddenly 'impure' and tainted. That is utterly and completely false. 

We, as humans, are inherently impure. Christ cleanses us when we receive Him, and imputes His purity to us. We did not make ourselves pure. We can't lose what has been given to us by Him. 

Now, this doesn't mean that there aren't things ordained in His order for certain times and seasons. We don't have snow in the middle of July. Its season is winter. Likewise, the place and the season for sex is within marriage.

But sex itself isn't evil. It isn't something dirty and defiling. It is a beautiful gift from God. Yet in the same way that snow is a beautiful gift from God, and the seasons are set in His timing, there would be something seriously wrong if the leaves were to fall in Springtime. Likewise, the wrongness in premarital sex is that it is outside of His ordained time and place. 

Now, there's a whole other issue of motive, where lustful f---ing is not part of God's design for sex as the highest mutual expression of love and intimacy, and is sinful even within marriage. 

But waiting for marriage to have sex doesn't make you inherently pure. Being raped or having sex before marriage doesn't make you inherently impure, damaged, destroyed, or dirty. 

Your relationship with Christ makes you pure. His cleansing blood is what washes us whiter than snow, and imputes to us a purity not our own - a purity all His. 

It's His power that then enables us to walk in the newness of life He has given us, to live worthy of His unmerited grace, to not grieve His Spirit by blatant disobedience. 

This doesn't mean we now have carte blanche to go ahead and sin without remorse. But it does mean that we can't make ourselves pure. We can't, in our own power, strong-arm ourselves into purity. Only His power does that. Only through His Spirit's indwelling can we ever hope to lead pure and Godly lives. 

We don't keep ourselves pure by setting more rules and making more man-made laws, and shaming and guilt-tripping people into not struggling outwardly. 

We keep ourselves pure by keeping ourselves in Him. He is pure. He is our purity. And if we are in Him, and no sin can abide in Him, then the closer we grow to Him, the more sin will grow repulsive to us, and holiness will be what we crave. 

If Christ lives in us, then He is pure in and for us. If it is no longer we who live, but Christ who lives in us, then it is not our job to grit our teeth and try harder to be pure. 

It is our job to submit to the Spirit's leading....follow His direction...surrender wholly to His authority, and walk in the purity, strength, endurance, and freedom of His rule. 

It is our job to run as hard and as fast as we can towards Jesus.. and everything else will fall into place.

{when the most wonderful time of the year....isn't}

the entire past fortnight has been one bloody mess.

between coming down with some mysterious sickness, overwhelmed by stress upon stress, caught in the middle of family feuding, facing a future world that feels falling apart, and crying hangovers and splitting headaches every morning.....those that say that Thanksgiving and Advent are the most wonderful time of the year have obviously never met mine. 

i am usually the Christmas Grinch - never in the Christmas spirit, always burdened by some strange heaviness around the Advent season; and when I found myself scheduled to sing at church two weeks in a row, (Christmas carols no less!), I groaned and flipped off my laptop in dismay. 

too standard, too rote, too every-single-year-and-it-means-nothing-to-me apart from wishing it were all over already. 

Save the carols for after thanksgiving, once well into December! Save the carols for the day of Christmas itself, because with all the heart-heaviness in our world today, the ideals of peace-on-earth-goodwill-towards-men seems fanciful at best, and downright impossible at worst. 

and while we sing about a newborn babe there is a new president in the White House and old ugliness taking new shape in newest conflicts and protests, and instead of hearing each other out we draw division lines and blame and silence and shame those who think differently than us, and I stumble into church of an early Tuesday evening, already dark outside, and wearily sink into a seat, heartsore and voice sick, and we run through carols and more carols, run through the set, and i run out of heart. 

then the worship leader sits down to the piano, fingers flirting with black and white keys. black and white. no gray. starkly divided between right and wrong and republican and democrat and east and west and racism and acceptance and fear and hope and all the division in our world disparages me. 

Yet the notes of my favorite carol ring out strong and clear against the late November stillness, as the crisp snow falls, his voice indescribably longing, and the tears spring unbidden to my eyes when all i want is for the coming of Christ and the end of this season that feels like a sham when tensions run so high. 

O Come, O Come Emmanuel....ransom us. 

my heart contracts in longing as the music builds and wells and suddenly drops; a promise, a plea, and a prayer. 

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come. 

God-with-us will come. God will come to us. God will come. He will be with us. He will walk with us, and talk with us, and comfort us. 

so where is He? 

where is He every night for the past week, scream-sobbing into the darkness that it's all just too hard? where is He through Thanksgiving tears and Advent tears and trying to smooth things over between my brother and boyfriend and the lighting of the Hope candle in a world where I can barely find the hope to go on? 

where is He a week later, again at church, rehearsing through a fever, and I glimpse the pastor's wife through the transparent sanctuary doors, stringing bright lights on the giant Christmas tree in the lobby as we begin again O Come O Come Emmanuel, but where is He? 

Where is He? 

and late that night lashing out in angered frustration that I can't find Him, and I don't know who I am or where I am going, and the whisper comes that what if the reason I haven't seen Him this Christmas is because I simply haven't been looking?

if the pounding of the years has pounded out my old starry eyed hope in the story which made Christmas night, and the jaded disappointments of life have hardened me to the point where I don't bother looking for Him because i don't think He's there

But what if I started....looking? 

After all, the babe in the manger didn't come looking for the wise men. or the shepherds. 

they went to seek Him. 

and if you shall find what you seek, then what if I spent this Christmas actually seeking Him? searching for glimpses of Emmanuel, God-with-us in the messiness of the mundane? in the hectic, in the stress, in the streams of shoppers shoving past the poor homeless man on the corner, or the massed worshippers Sunday morning dozing through the sermon? 

because if Emmanuel is God-with-us, and if Christian means God-in-us, then He is with us when we are with each other, and He will touch us through one another, and reach with human fingers again to wipe our tears and teach us to live again? 

so what if I went looking? 

Would He show up? 

....oh and would He ever. 

it is amazing what you see as soon as you start looking for it. It is amazing where you see Him as soon as you start searching for Him there. 

He is everywhere. 

In the twinkling eyes of a five year old, brimming with pure joy as the first batch of gingerbread cookies emerge from the oven, and sticky kisses find their way onto your cheek as sticky fingers twine themselves round your neck. 

in the tall seventeen-year-old, practically a man, scrubbing dinner dishes (your rightful chore) after a day of his own studies, shushing children, and running errands so that you might rest, because he's heard that you aren't feeling well. 

in the tenderness of the man who calls you his girlfriend, who grants you your first night in over a week without crying yourself to sleep, by reading Isaiah over FaceTime until you fall asleep.

in the generosity of your grandmother, the thoughtfulness of your sister, the laughter of your brother, the warmth of your mother, the wisdom of your father...

in the shining lights which dance through the night, mirroring His arrival, illuminating the darkness and declaring hope

i am learning to see it

i am choosing to see it

Emmanuel. God with us. 

God is with us. 

We only have to look. 

{'Godly' womanhood in a nutshell...as per Debi Pearl and such}

Dear Girl, 

Whether you're newly married, single, or have been married for years, I just know that the tactics in this book will prove invaluable to you in your journey of placating the male gender in order to secure your own lasting happiness which can only be found when you are fulfilling your submissive role. 

Firstly, you must know that there are two types of woman: the Proverbs 31/Titus 2 woman, and, well, the Bathshebas and Jezebels of the world. Make sure you're the former. This entails staying at home, striving to be feminine and dainty and modest and saintly. You must sexy only for your husband, yet worthy of a pedestal to the rest of the world. If you are the latter, or any less than the former, then God will be furious with you for tempting his menfolk to sin. 

The fundamental thing you must learn is that men are always superior. always. unequivocally. without exception. God made it that way for your own good. You're a silly, weak, emotional creature who needs to be kept in line by a man, and therefore God made men. Depending on your status, this could be your father, brothers, husband, or, well, any other man really. Men > women. always. this is why women are not supposed to work. or preach. or teach. or get a job outside the house. because if they do, then they are usurping the man's role as always superior. 

Secondly, submission means that you do not question, do not disagree, do not argue with anything that the man says. If your father says something, your husband says something, then you render joyful unquestioning obedience. It matters not how unreasonable or irritable he may be.  The more you bow down before him, reverence him, and give him unlimited power over your life, the more he will be inclined to be magnanimous, and the more he will love and cherish you. (I dare you to ask the slaves how that worked for them)

Remember that there is no such thing as abuse, when it comes from a 'Christian' man. If it appears to you, weak woman that you are, that he is being abusive, just remember that you do not know everything; and what seems like abuse to you might really be ordained by God for your own good... or something that God told the man... or a decision which he made for your ultimate good... or because you did something wrong... so just pray that God will help you to submit and do whatever he tells you. After all, the reason that you feel like you are being abused is because you are really just mad that you cannot dictate his actions to him. remember your place. 

Thirdly, you must respect him. he doesn't want or need your love. he needs your respect. This means that under no circumstances must you damage his poor frail male ego. Even the slightest hint of doubt will be enough to cripple a man for life. Do not tell him anything that is wrong with him. Do not ask him to change. Do not dare criticize him. It is simply pride that makes you feel like you are in a position to preach to *the man*. Sit down and shut your mouth. 

Modesty is paramount. Men are simply incapable of controlling themselves, to the point where even the mere shape of the female form will lead them into unspeakable sins. If you are an unmarried woman, then you are singlehandedly responsible for all men around you. If any guy finds you attractive, then you are guilty of seduction on par with the sin of Bathsheba, and consequently responsible for making the stronger vessels fall. Of course, the only place where modesty ceases to matter is if you are married and alone with your husband. Then, it is your bounden duty to be sexy and make him want you so that he doesn't cheat on you because you have failed in your duty as a wife. 

If you are unmarried and in a relationship, then you must hold sex over his head as the ultimate reward for marrying you. You can't possibly expect him to be willing to put up with all your female mood swings and high maintenance selves. Guys don't want that. God didn't create them to want that, or even be able to understand your emotionality. Guys only want one thing. That one thing is sex. Girls want love and security and safety and a family, but all the guy really needs is for you to agree with him in everything and give him lots of sex. 

That's why you aren't supposed to give him sex before he marries you. Because all he really wants from you is sex, so if you give it to him before you get a wedding ring, then he will leave you. Who wants the cow if you can get the milk for free? Before he marries you, you ought to be the paragon of female angelic purity. You're a girl, therefore can't understand his sex drive. Just understand that that's the way all men are. Girls want love, guys want sex. 

However, once he marries you, then sex is what will keep him married to you. Sex and submission. Become his personal slut. Act out all his sexual fantasies. Whether you like it or not is really of no consequence. It isn't for your pleasure, nor is it supposed to be. As per the revered Doug Wilson, "the sexual act cannot be made into an egalitarian pleasuring party. A man penetrates, conquers, colonizes, plants. A woman receives, surrenders, accepts".  You should just be happy that you've pleased him. Unless, of course, it's anal sex because that's what homosexuals do. (yes, this was actual advice. I'm not making this up). 

Don't have female friends because that could lead to homosexuality. Don't have male friends because they might hug you and you will thereby cause them to fall. Your husband might also feel threatened by the fact that you care about someone other than him. Your husband should be all in all to you - best friend, lover, prophet, priest....after all, you honor God by obeying your husband. If he cheats on you, it is your fault for not having enough sex with him. If his eyes wander, it is your fault for not being sexy enough. 

Finally, nothing is free. You earn love. You earn God's love through your implicit obedience to your husband, and you earn your husband's love as well. You must admire and respect and adore and worship him for who he is, without even daring to whisper a hint of changing him - but God forbid you be arrogant enough to expect him to love you for who you are! You earn and keep your husband's love through ample sex, maintaining your youthful figure, wearing makeup (or..not..depending on what he likes), being beautiful, being a sex goddess in private and a perfect homemaker christian wife in public, making him the envy of all his male friends, making him look good in front of the church, deferring to him in absolutely everything, and in all other ways serving him as his housemaid/whore/slave/worshipper all rolled into one. 

If you do all this, then you will be fulfilling your sole and chief purpose as a woman. For the married woman, by following these principles, you will honor God and honor your husband, and you will find fulfillment beyond your wildest dreams. God will be pleased with you, your husband will love you, and your kids will rise up and call you blessed and want a marriage just like the one that you have. If you are single, or still unmarried, then you can practice these principles of submission and respect on your father and your brothers while you wait for a young man to approach your father for your hand in marriage. 

And anyone who disagrees is a lesbian feminist who has forsaken her God-given place, thereby bringing disgrace upon her gender, and God's curse upon society. 

{All You've Ever Wanted}

someone downstairs this early in the morning had turned the radio to full volume, stirring me from a deep sleep as I  rolled sleepily out from under my warm comforter, shivering, pulling a sweatshirt over my head...

.....only to suddenly stop dead in my tracks 

after all, what are the odds that the music floating up the staircase was the precise song I had found myself falling asleep to last night, after the frenetic sobs had subsided. 

"All You've ever wanted, all You've ever wanted, all You've ever wanted was my heart...
freedom's arms are open. my chains have all been broken. 
relentless love has called me from the start....
all You wanted was my heart" 

burying my forehead in my palms, I sat down heavily on the edge of my bed, letting the lyrics wash over me once more, still groggy from lack of sleep last night. 

I hadn't fallen asleep until well past 1 in the morning, coming face to face with my crying inability to accept a love freely offered, without feeling as though I need to somehow earn it. and looking back over my life, I shouldn't find it surprising that I have come away with the messages 'try harder/be better/do more if you would be worthy of love'. 

when it came to my parents, I considered the score even. I obey, and they love me. I disobey or displease them and I deserve punishment, and must atone for my misdeeds. Do good and they will love me. Otherwise, they won't. Don't be a burden, but support them when they need emotional support. Do housework, be a good student, earn their approval and affirmation. 

when it came to my friends, I help them when they are down. they help me when i am down. it is my responsibility to be a kind, considerate friend, to not over-tax them, to not burden them with my problems unduly, and to support them. Therefore i earn their love and care. 

when it came to mentors, I earn their approval through doing what they say is right. quit cutting. recover from my eating disorder. stop doing things that they say are wrong, and if i comply with all their expectations, then i will be able to be worthy of their time, effort, investment, and love. 

when it came to relationships, the formula was simple. Acquiesce. Submit. Do what they want, make them look good, lose weight and be perfect and meek and quiet and let them have whatever they want, and if you do all that, then you will ensure that he always loves you. otherwise it is your fault, your responsibility, if he stops loving you, and your job to earn it back. 

...and when it came to God? do all the right things, check all the boxes, live in constant fear of messing up, apologize for the very breath I take, punish myself when I feel I have let Him down or displeased Him, offer Him whatever He wants.... I am still trying to earn His love, because I cannot believe that it is possible for Him to love me. 

i cannot conceive of a love which would love me even when I do not love myself. I cannot wrap my mind around being wanted despite the fact that I mess up, am messed up, hurt people and will continue to do so in spite of my best efforts not to. 

and if you claim you love me? there must be something I am doing/have done/can do to earn it. something physical, material, substantial. something i can point to and say 'this makes me worthy', because I know I am not.  

but the song which has haunted me since last night's meltdown, begging him, begging Him to please let me earn their love only to be met with 'all I've ever wanted is your heart', smacks me again this morning, crying that 'freedom's arms are open...your chains have all been broken...relentless love has called, is calling you..and it doesn't want you to try harder, jump through more hoops, perform better, or make yourself perfect. all it wants, all it longs for, is your heart. who you are. just you' 

hashing it out with a friend later today, i confess that there is nothing which makes me angrier or more frustrated than that thought. I sense, rather than see, her smile. 

"In your mind you drastically fall short of being worthy of the love that's being given to you. and it frustrates you to no end because you cannot see what others see in you. you can't understand when looking at you, why they choose to love you."

she is uncannily accurate. if I can only halfway like me when I do all the things that i think are right, and make me look clean on the outside, then why in the world would anyone want my messy, mismatched, bloody, broken, holey heart? 

and I am sitting here, half in tears, typing, when the five year old brother breaks into my thoughts, holding out a 'scepter' staff, the other half of the curtain rod, as tall as he is. 

"touch it! touch it!" he cries gleefully. I comply, half smiling at his newest game. 

"now you have to give me something!" he announces. "like candy..or something..or whatever you have". 

my hand blindly reaches over, eyes still on his face, seizing on the first thing from my desk that it touches.

a small heart, shaped from plastic iron-on-beads, and without thinking I hold it out. 

"I have a heart?" 

His face breaks into a boyish grin. "Thank you!" and grabbing it in his free hand, he bestows a parting smile on me before skipping off. 

and God laughs, and pats me on the head. 

and i sigh, running fingers through my hair in bewildered frustration.  

what if what He really wants isn't what I do. what if what He wants is who I am? 

my heart? 

your heart?

no matter how busted or bruised or beat up or...plastic?...it is. 

what if when He looks at it, He sees beauty? 

because if we are His tapestry, His work of art, then all we would see from the inside is the wrong side of the work. the loose ends. the brokenness. the tangled string splashed across a canvas in a meaningless mess.  

but what if when He looks at us, He sees the right side. He sees the weaving as it is, but also as He is shaping it to be, and He sees the glory of the finished work when all I can see is the struggle and all I can wonder is why, why He would ever choose me. He sees the pattern He is working through the pain, and if the holy God of the universe knows all my sins and still wants me as I am, then dare I say no? 

dare I "turn away with a smile on my face, with this sin in my heart try to bury your grace" only to "alone in the night still call out for You, so ashamed of my life" my life, my one and given life which I cannot seem to throw away no matter how hard I try? 

what if there is nothing I can do to earn it? what if, like grace, love is free? freely given and freely received in gratitude to the Giver? 

what if...what if I am simply allowed to...be? to rest? to accept the love that is mine instead of endlessly chasing the things I think will make me worthy of it? 

what if all He's ever wanted is my heart...and He loves me anyways, just as I am? 

what if it's past time I stopped running and hiding and deflecting with do more/be more/try harder? 

what if i just..said...yes?