Feet On the Ground

Most people hate February. And in many respects it’s a sucky month. The general populace is frustrated with weather and taxes. Single people are cranky about Valentine’s Day. Motivation for New Years resolutions is ebbing and it’s far easier to just sit on the couch, eat cookies and watch 24 than…well, do anything at all.

And I have some great trips planned in March and April. My best friend will move back here sometime around then as well. Then it will be summer and we can get ice cream and go to the park and drink sweet tea and go to Kings Island.

It’s going to be fabulous.

In the meantime, though, it’s February.

I’ve decided to take a different approach. I’m going to get in shape physically. I’m going to curb my spending and save as much as possible. I’ll get through work with as much happiness intact as I can muster and as soon as I leave, get to the business of living. I’ve moped around too much after work because I’ve been so miserable and frustrated, but that’s completely counterproductive. So that’s over.

Hopefully.

We’ll see.

Ultimately, though, I need to get my spirit into fighting shape. I’ve been so remiss in that lately. But with the things I have coming up in my future, I have a feeling that the challenges and possible triumphs will take everything I have. Mostly, though, I just miss God.

The best part is that I don’t have to.

Hold me to this, will you?

Tags: anticipation, determination, risk

She sat at the table and recounted a story that is the closer to hell than anything I’ve ever experienced. Her straight posture and matter-of-fact manner didn’t welcome pity for her pain that she hid well behind a mask of cynicism and wit and bluntness. Yet as we sat there, my heart broke for her. It was too late for me to do anything about her pain, but I knew it was tangible and wondered if I could have done anything beforehand to help her through it. I even realized that such thoughts were useless, but it all felt so real in that moment that I could barely hold myself together.

And then when we were alone, she had the audacity to apologize for possibly offending me with her tale.

It was an issue that countless people have underwent, even in the church, and it’s something that usually results in immediate condemnation. Yet condemnation was the farthest thing from my mind. I haven’t known her for very long, but I can honestly say that I love her. And in that love there was no judgment. Only deep regret that I hadn’t been there to support her.  That she had to endure it alone.

The thought that she could have kept her story to herself out of fear of offending me made me feel a whole host of negative emotions toward myself and the religious community in general. Yet it felt so powerful because she chose to tell me and my first response was grace.

This isn’t a post to talk about how fabulous I am. The desire to extend grace was the most humbling thing I have ever felt in my life. I realized that grace means you’re aligning yourself with someone. It’s not showing that you’re condoning their actions but rather that you see them as they were made to be and are willing to help them close the gap from there to where they currently are. Extending grace means that you might receive condemnation simply from associating with them. It doesn’t mean that you’ll receive grace in return and almost certainly guarantees that enemies will rise up immediately to punish you for daring to give them a free pass.

I would never presume that I’ve made any impact on her life at all. If you could write a life story that was exactly the opposite of mine, hers would be it. But I’ve learned so much from her. Even if we never spoke again, I will forever remember her as striking. Her appearance, her wit, her ability to cut through all of the crap in a situation or a person and call them out on it. Her tenacity is unparalleled and the way she can rebound from a bad situation and push through everything life throws at her is remarkable. She warns and even apologizes for her brashness but refuses to curb herself to fit a mold. She’s the type of person that everyone wants to tame but she’s exactly what we need to make us realize that molds are completely useless.

She’s changed my life.

We’d be offended by her story, and that’s exactly why we need it.

Tags: appreciation, discomfort, grace, learning, nightmare, pain, risk

When you first start playing trumpet, you’re told to buzz your lips to make sound. Eventually, it sounds less like buzzing and more like a tone. Right around that time, if you have a good teacher, then you’re told….not to buzz your lips anymore.

It’s confusing, at first. But the point is to let the pressure of the air being pushed with your diaphragm to actually buzz your lips for you. It’s amazing if you can actually master it. It’s what lets you play wicked high notes and hours long concerts- or in my case, church services, without getting tired.

If, you know, you can pull it off.

I’ve never really mastered it. I don’t know why. I’ve felt what it’s like before but it hasn’t become habitual. And without this skill, you can’t become great. You can be decent or even good, but greatness is unattainable unless you can utilize the force of the air.

Kind of like God’s power.

We can coast on grace for a while and get to a certain point. We can rely on His hand to help us through trials and to even give us blessings. But until we make it habitual to completely rely on His awesome supernatural power, we’ll never be able to fulfill what He’s called us to be.

Yesterday, the worship service seemed to drag on. The lights were hot and bright and the music blasting through my earbuds was loud. I had been working and getting up early for days and I was so tired and just wanted to sit down for a while. And rest, because isn’t that what Sundays are about?

Except in my type of church, we get a little overboard with worship sometimes and we keep going back into the same song over and over and over and over….and you wonder, “When will it be OVER?” I love Jesus, but after a while, well, I believe I’ve been set free. Can we move forward? Because I’m also standing up there in four inch heels. I know, I know, it’s my choice…but I don’t own flats.

Then I realized that my playing felt a little different. It felt easy. Effortless. Like the air was just floating. I wasn’t doing as much work as usual.

Without even thinking about it, I’d utilized a skill I didn’t even know I had.

When I was too tired to put forth the effort that the task normally would have required. When I was not concentrating. Not feeling up to it. Not being a very good person because I didn’t want to be there.

It happened. I did it. It was amazing. It was easier. Although Angelina Jolie lips are unavoidable after hours of playing, they didn’t feel like they were elastic or overworked. What normally would have exhausted me didn’t take its usual toll. When it was necessary, I finally performed like I needed to.

When it’s necessary, do you believe that God will perform for you?

Tags: appreciation, grace, hope

Christians get promise hungry.

We want prophecies and confirmations and signs and to “feel led” to do something. It’s an almost crippling effect of growing up in a charismatically-oriented family or church setting. We believe for the big things but we need a push.

I always want another sign. Just one more, and I’ll go for it. Then I get my promise and I’m omg so excited!!!1one until it grows stale and I want another one. I keep rolling the dice and am never content with where I land.

I will go before you and level the exalted places, I will break in pieces the doors of bronze and cut through the bars of iron, I will give you the treasures of darkness and the hoards in secret places, that you may know that it is I, the Lord, the God of Israel, who call you by your name. – Isaiah 45:2-3

And then I read a promise like this, that covers everything that I will ever do.

There’s free will and there’s sovereignty, and there are things that cover both. Like this. I’m choosing to apply for law school. I feel like it’s a good move right now and I feel like I have been blessed through it so far. However, I don’t feel like it’s the one big calling on my life. God told me a few years ago that I was supposed to be a writer. I don’t know how many times I’ve said since then, “What am I supposed to do?!” Each time, He looks at me with a raised eyebrow and folds His arms. He says nothing and yet I hear it again, as clearly as possible.

I want you to be a writer.

But….there’s no money in that. It’s impossible to break into the industry. I could see myself being an editor or working somehow in the industry itself but…a writer…that’s like, the person who creates stuff.

I want to be important, but I don’t think I can be the star. I’ll do the work behind the scenes, but with the glory comes pressure to keep performing and to outdo your personal best. It’s a constant, neverending challenge and I try to avoid it at all costs and by any means necessary.

No more.

I can’t afford it.

Especially when I have been completely assured that my path is prepared for me. How can I lose?

I stood awkwardly. Twiddling thumbs, eyes downcast, shifting weight from foot to foot. Hands with no urge to raise, tear ducts out of use. It has been an eternity since I’ve been in a church service because I wanted to be there. No commitments. No one expecting my presence. Just going because there was a tug.

So I expected a lightning bolt. Either to evoke fear or inspiration, I wasn’t sure, but I waited for it to strike.

Nothing.

I felt a calmness seep in, and with it also came an uncomfortable expectation. My life has felt so complicated for so long, and everything felt too…easy. Simple. As the singers gazed upward with rapt attention and admiration, I wondered if the whole business was as painless as they made it appear.

And then the melody of the song that always comes to mind when I’m stressed began to play. The song that God uses to comfort me flowed from the pianist’s fingers and out the speakers and into my ears and over my soul. In that instant, I realized that the most complex, encompassing subject in the world is also an elementary principle.

I am saved.

It’s totally Christian jargon. And completely appropriate. Not as in one instant years ago, but every day. I am saved from countless horrors and evils and devastations. I am saved from religion, from apathy, from brutality. Maybe most of all, I’m saved from myself. From trying to understand absolutely everything, which gets complicated fast.

Life doesn’t make sense. Trying to decode it is folly.

So I left uninspired by the message because I was too tired to understand it. Woefully unmoved by the scripture on the page. Slightly welcomed by people who didn’t really miss me and weren’t thrilled when I showed up, but oddly comforted to be in a group who believes the same thing. More or less.

Ultimately, I left feeling a million times better than when I arrived.

I remembered that I was rescued. Then, now, way back when and ten years within the future. My status wil never change, and when it all gets to be too much again, I just have to think of my place in the fairy tale.

I was pretty unfortunate looking in high school and the beginning of college.

I wasn’t hideous or anything, but my awkward stage lasted a lot longer than it could have. I didn’t have confidence. I had glasses and bangs. I’ve worn makeup nearly every day since I was in middle school and I’ve always dressed decently, but I was always a bit off somehow, and wasn’t really noticed.

So it comes as no surprise when I stopped in at church the other day and a girl there said, “You look like such a different person with straight hair and makeup.” No surprise because this girl has zero social grace and because, yeah, there’s some truth to it. The thing is, I’ve always worn makeup around her and sometimes I still wear my hair curly. It just looks better now than it did a few years ago. She tried to present it as a compliment with a hidden insult. It was probably obvious to everyone around.

I could have pointed out that she doesn’t wear eyeliner or mascara and really should. Or that she used to have super permed curly hair herself that looked absolutely awful on her. I smiled and said something to deflect the insult as much as possible when I wanted to retort. I have never been mean to this girl, but that didn’t matter. She didn’t need a reason.

I don’t really like her, but I gave her grace.

Then the very next day, I said something mean to someone I really care about. I know they care about me. They said something a little mean, hitting a sore spot that they know is a sore spot. So I fired back as hard as I could. It was nearly instantaneous, and I really hurt them.

I gave grace to someone who didn’t deserve it at all.

I retaliated against the person who, by all accounts, has been wonderful to me for the duration of our friendship and should have earned unlimited do-overs, undos, and freebies.

And they received no grace.

I feel awful about it.

What if Jesus revoked grace right when I needed it most? When I committed a sin that would be the equivalent of sticking gum under a desk rather than throwing it in the garbage? What if He suddenly got really angry about that whole cross debacle and snapped? Tore up the contract and threw me in chains?

But He won’t.

We’re at His mercy, but He is good. Always good.

I’m not.

I can only hope that I receive grace when I don’t deserve it from the person I refused it. And that I learn to keep my mouth shut and give grace abundantly.

Tags: grace, learning, pain

When you apply to law school, you have to write a personal statement. It’s the one part of the application where I have the most control. It will allow the committee to have a peek inside of my life and see what’s motivating me to go to school. You’d think this would be the thing I’d nail, considering that all of my blogs are about my favorite topic- me.

Instead, I’m finding it incredibly challenging. When I write here, I try to include more than a hint of self-deprecation because I know how ridiculous I am most of the time, even in my earnestness. Yet when I’m writing this statement, my earnestness is completely sincere. It’s kind of terrifying. I haven’t cared about something this much since…well, we all know how that turned out.

These feelings are so weird. I don’t know how to process them seriously right now. I don’t know when I began downplaying my passions but now it’s like I’ve become the person I scorned. Someone who didn’t care enough about anything to really pursue it.

I miss writing, I miss God, I miss reading, I miss spending time by myself just being in complete silence and completely content with that. I could be doing any of those things seriously right now, but I’m laying here with a headache, a slightly sore throat, tense muscles knotted in my neck and not enough energy to think about anything beyond, “Ow.”

And, of course, this intense desire for something more that I can’t seem to put into words…but I have to.

Tags: change, discomfort, law school, learning, risk

I’m sending out 2009 with a wave of my middle finger and staring 2010 in the face. We’re having a wary standoff. I think it’s going to be a learning year, full of trial and hopefully not too much error. 2009 was painful, but I went through something so horrible that I realized nothing is worth being so miserable. Nothing.

The hard part, though, is that I feel like there are two choices in life. To be very lonely yet spiritually strong, or have a fun life and have a shriveled spirit.

I don’t like those options.

God is first in my life and always will be. There’s no use pretending otherwise. Yet I need to be able to find people who accept and include me, and I haven’t found those people in a church.

So 2010 is going to be about living in a wellspring of grace. Diving into it morning and night, gorging myself on it and allowing it to point me in the right direction. We misuse grace so much. Almost as if we’ve been so used to credit card debt and then suddenly it’s all paid off and we don’t have to worry about it anymore…and then we run them up again because we don’t know how to operate while being ahead or we just get so confused about having a surplus of money that it just sits there because we’re afraid to end up with nothing again.

I spend grace the same way. I either do too much or nothing at all. Both are bad investment practices. Fortunately, there’s a neverending supply of grace and I don’t have to worry about running out, but finding the favor in it and using it to my advantage is something that I’ve always struggled with. For the longest time I thought that I was doing things right, and then I pulled my head out of my overly religious behind and took stock of my life…and realized there wasn’t much substance to it because I had no real happiness.

I want a life of substance, meaning, and joy.

That can only be found through grace.

So here we go. Bring it on, 2010.

Tags: anticipation, grace, learning

I opened up a document and wrote for the first time in about 2 months.

It’s just a page.

It’s probably a really bad page.

But I wrote it. My words, my thoughts, my feelings. My soul is poured out on that page, and in doing it I feel more alive than I have in weeks. I don’t know what it is about letting the words seep through my fingertips and onto the keyboard, but it unlocks a spring of vigor inside of my heart. It’s completely ridiculous, but I almost feel like I could fly.

Absolutely nothing has changed about my life, circumstances, or self since I wrote that page, but I feel like a whole new person with a completely new existence.

Something about this is powerful, and I’m meant to do this. I don’t know how it will be used, but I have been created to create.

Tags: excitement

I haven’t been blogging much because I’ve been struggling. And when you’re someone who claims to have faith, you feel like you shouldn’t be struggling at all. I think I’ve become so dependent on actually writing out my faith to remind myself that I really do believe all of this, that everything is going to get better and that I am going to prosper, and when I don’t have time to write it makes me not feel so convinced about it anymore.

This verse in Luke is most quoted around Christmas, from the King James Version:

And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men. (2:13-14)

Yet I read it this way, from the English Standard Version:

And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased!”

And in the Amplified:

Then suddenly there appeared with the angel an army of the troops of heaven (a heavenly knighthood), praising God and saying,

Glory to God in the highest [heaven], and on earth peace among men with whom He is well pleased [men of goodwill, of His favor].

We have such a problem reading the Bible correctly. We squabble over translations and original context and cultural clues and significance and we totally miss out on so many of the basic things. This verse has been so overquoted that I never realized how spectacular the “multitude of heavenly hosts” really would have been. An army of the troops of heaven. How terrifying would that display of power be, even knowing that it’s on your side. Every time angels appeared to someone in the Bible, they’d have to say, “Fear not!” because they’re so mighty and we’re so doubtful. We’re skeptical that someone would be willing to do something for us.

So we read “peace on Earth, good will toward men” as a commandment or a hopeful statement. That’s always the message I got from it. Be good to people, especially around Christmas, and hope people are good back to you. If not, suck it up.

Yet in other versions it is stated as a promise from God that we will have peace. Simply because He loves us and He gives us favor because we love Him back- and even if we don’t. Even caught up in our selfish ways, He finds something to love and bless. Because He’s just that good.

If a multitude of angels appeared in front of me, telling me that I was going to receive peace and favor from God, would I believe then? Maybe for a while. Then something decidedly unfavorable would happen that would try to steal my peace, and I’d get caught up in the dichotomy of what is promised and what I feel.

Instead of punishing me for my lack of faith, God designed the whole system, the entire story, to meet my faith. He didn’t do it all in one act. He wrote a continuing saga that is everlasting, and is still commanding the army of heavenly hosts to battle for me. He is funneling peace into my life and showing favor because that’s what He does and who He is. When I stop feeling it, He doesn’t give up and He doesn’t toss the story out and start over. He simply finds a new way to show me and starts a new chapter.

Tags: appreciation, Christmas, learning