Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Life is funny that way.

It's amazing how we grow and change, and how life grows and changes with us, sometimes. When we let it, at least. It's amazing how some people can walk in and out of our lives, and yet others, others settle down and stay for a good long while. Some still settle in forever. It's amazing how that works.

Some people float into ourlives for a short time - we share our lives with them, they share their lives with us, and eventually, we grow apart. Never looking back. Never regretting a thing. Sometimes we don't just grow apart. Sometimes there's a misunderstanding, and we get mad or they get mad or you both get mad, and it's over. Yet somehow, each and every one of these people in each and every one of these circumstances fulfills some distinct need in our lives, and we do likewise, for them.

Life is funny that way.

Some people have come into my life, and left again quite quickly. Others have come into my life and stayed a while, but life is not static - people grow and change. Still others have been around for it all. Six years, fifteen years - at 21, that may as well be forever, so far. A person who's vowed to be with me forever, to boot? It's amazing how life grows and changes as we grow and change, and as we grow and change together.
Life is funny that way.

Sunday, November 18, 2007

Out of Bounds

I'm a married woman. Does it sound so ridiculous that I think it's entirely inappropriate for a woman who is not single to dine or otherwise spend time alone with a man who is not her boyfriend, fiance, or husband? Because I do. I think that is entirely inappropriate and completely stupid of any woman to do. Likewise, it's my opinion that it's also completely inappropriate for any non-single man to spend time alone with a woman who is not his girlfriend, fiancee, or wife. I don't think that my believing that is ridiculous. I'll be honest, I don't really even like talking to other men who are not my husband, other than family members. There are some exceptions to the rule, but these conversations are short and take place in very public settings, like in class. If I do, I talk about Adam. I just don't think it's appropriate to build relationships with people of the opposite sex, one-on-one when you're involved with another person, engaged, or married.

That's why I don't. And I don't think that's very ridiculous. I don't think it's controlling, or a sign that I'm in an unhealthy relationship. Quite the contrary; I believe we should be able to interact with members of the opposite sex without creating problems. I just don't think it's appropriate to pursue "friendly" relationships one-on-one with members of the opposite sex if you're taken, engaged, or married. Couples spend time together. People spend time in groups. I will not spend time alone with any member of the opposite sex who is not in my family and completely trusted, period. I don't think that's very ridiculous. I think it's something more dating, engaged and married couples should consider. It might cut down the divorce rate, or at least lessen the temptation to commit adultery - spend time with your husband, not your boss. Angry with your wife or girlfriend? Don't vent it to your pretty female coworker. Don't even open that door. I don't think it's very ridiculous to consider working things out with your significant other. It works for us. Boundaries. Boundaries really aren't so bad. Have a healthy social life and a healthy marriage. You can have both. We do, and I wouldn't trade it for the world.

Friday, November 16, 2007

Preposterous Grace

"Most of my life I heard the message loud and clear that Christianity was all about coloring within the lines and coloring well. If I was a good Christian, if I loved Jesus and wanted to please Him, if I read my Bible, prayed, and went to church, then I would get better and better at coloring. And if I lived a long and godly life, I would eventually be able to draw close to the perfect drawing.

Wherever that message came from, it was a lie. I am fifty-five years old, and my coloring still [goes outside the lines].

I believe God looks at my coloring and says, "Hmmmmmm. You certainly like the color green! Lots of passion in this stroke. I like it."

Even as I write these words, I can hear the "concern" of those who worry about others misunderstanding the gospel. "You're not suggesting, are you, that nothing matters to God? Certainly, God has standards!"

What I am suggesting is that God's grace is so outside the lines of our understanding that we can only stand in awe and wonder. Christianity is not about learning how to live within the lines; Christianity is about the joy of coloring. The grace of God is preposterous enough to accept as beautiful a coloring that anyone else would reject as ugly. The grace of God sees beyond the scribbling to the heart of the scribbler - a scribbler who is similar to two thieves who hung on crosses on either side of Jesus. One of the two asked Jesus to please accept his scribbled and sloppy life into the kingdom of God...and He did. Preposterous. And very good news for the rest of us scribblers."

- from Dangerous Wonder, Mike Yaconelli, p140-1

Monday, November 12, 2007

Life is too short.

Have you ever met someone who is uncomfortable? Always uncomfortable. I don't mean uncomfortable in her seat or in her situation. Uncomfortable in her own self, unable to allow anyone else to feel comfortable around her. This woman is not at rest with herself, and she refuses to allow others to rest in her presence.

I know a lot of women like this. I have been this woman. In my case, it was quiet, unsuspecting. In other cases it is loud and obvious. However it presents itself, this unrest is a disease. It tears at relationships and leaves souls exhausted. There is no winning with someone who is not at rest with herself. Nothing you do is good enough, no amount of love is without strings attached, no nice thing is said without conditions. At least in my experience. And it makes me sad. It makes me sad that these women have never known the peace that is found in rest. It makes me sad that these women have never been showed the kind of love that allowed them to love themselves. It makes me sad that these women see nothing in themselves worth cultivating, caring for, or trusting. Every woman has inside something too precious to go uncared for and unloved. And it makes me sad that many women miss out on that because they don't have someone to show them the gorgeous wonder of their own hearts.

I have learned to rest in myself. I am learning to rest in myself. I learn more and more each day what it is to be at rest; I desire to be a woman of rest. I want people to be able to rest in my presence. I want to show these women how very much worth loving they are. I really believe true and complete beauty is found in the peace of your heart. If a woman is not at rest in her own soul and in her own body, no amount of outward beauty is convincing. I don't want to be an empty shell, and I do not want to watch the young (and older!) women I know grow into empty, restless, loveless shells.

I want to be a captivating woman with a captivating heart, around whom you can rest. For some reason or another, simply existing in the same general space as a close friend is more important than going somewhere or doing something. I particularly treasure time spent resting together, just my husband and me. More is spoken in peaceful silence than busy "hanging out" and "chatting" anywhere - particularly among women, it seems. I long to have people in my life around whom I can rest, and I desire to be a woman of rest myself. Life is too short to waste restlessly.

I want to be captivating. I want to see a generation of women who are at rest. Who are captivating. There is nothing, to me, quite so beautiful.

(Thoughts inspired by the book Captivating)

Friday, November 9, 2007

Bungee Cords & Trust Falls

It's easy to be brave when the bungee cord isn't attached to your feet. I've probably misquoted, but it was something along those lines.

It's really pretty true. When you're not standing on the edge of here and who-knows-what, you can offer some pretty sound enouragement. But the point is you're not standing on the edge of here and who-knows-what. You're not wondering what might happen if you dare open the door (or window, or wall, whatever) separating you from the unexpected. Or the what-you-think-you-should-expect. Encouragement is always appreciated (or should be, in any case) by those standing at the door, full of hesitation, but when you encourage someone in that position, remember, it's easy to be brave when you're secure. Honestly, it's possible to be brave when you are bungee'd in. It's when you're approaching the ledge with the wind blowing and your heart pounding, that it's difficult to muster any sort of bravery.

Those of us who know God know that while he'll let you free-fall, he won't let you fall out of his reach. Those of us who really know God know that though we have the assurance that we cannot fall beyond his reach, that does not mean we will be spared from confusion, pain, or even death.

But it's not always the death that's scary. Often, death is the least of all worries. It's the confusion, pain, and frustration that are scary. Why else would there be such hesitation before entering the supposed unknown? We know that God knows. We know that he's got it all figured out. Yet we worry? Yet we hem and haw and question and wonder "Now, God? Now? How about now? When do you want me to jump? When? Are you sure you're going to catch me? I mean are you watching carefully?" Someone once asked me if I thought God's silence when it comes to jumping might be his way of asking me if I am willing to trust him and take the risk. I thought that sounded good. Do I take risks often enough? No. I hem and I haw and I ask and I poke and I prod and I delay, and while perhaps delay is necessary....I don't have faith. I don't trust or believe that God is actually in control. The prospect of pain - pain that I know God is capable of handling - is always too much.

So when is faith going to be enough? It's like the ultimate trust-fall exercise....except we're guaranteed that he won't let us fall further than he can go. And yet, we're more willing to trust-fall into the world than into Him. At least I am. It's not like I'm saying that with pride.
And it's not like I'm saying I don't like the unexpected. I do. It's the faith thing I have trouble with. The unexpected can be nice. Birthday parties can be unexpected, so can babies...and they're both nice. Car accidents and falling from cliffs can be unexpected as well. Neither of them are very nice.


Yet through it all, there's that constant whisper. Can you hear it? "Trust Me." That's about it. Was it in your head? Or did you really hear it? I think I did. And I think I'm scared to trust just the same.

But it's not like we're finished products, so there's time and hope for us yet.

Tuesday, November 6, 2007

the altar.

I'm at the end of myself, I just dropped out of the running
I don't recall when I last pulled the shades and said
"Here comes the sun, here comes the new day"

Someone remind me again that joy might show up on ocassion
I'm sitting here with my hands on my head, and my eyes on the ground,
Wondering if I'll be found by You

Will you make me new? Will you take what's left of me?
I guarantee that it won't be a fair trade.
Will you set me free from what's keeping me afraid?
I know I've prayed it all before, but I'm back on the altar

I don't believe what they say about one foot in front of the other
If my life was a map, you'd see every last step
Just circling around, still lost, never found by You

So will you make me new? Will you take what's left of me?
I guarantee that it won't be a fair trade.
Will you set me free from what's keeping me afraid?
I know I've prayed it all before, but I'm back on the altar

Maybe last year I'd have made empty promises
Maybe last month I'd have tried to pull strings
But I don't have one single chip left to bargain with
The only thing left is me needing You to make me new

Will you take what's left of me?
I guarantee that it won't be a fair trade
Will you set me free from what's keeping me afraid?
I know I've prayed it all before
But I'm back on the altar.

The Altar, Nichole Nordeman

I relate.

I need to be back on the altar.