Choices

So I logged into Facebook. The first thing that greeted me was a picture of a big beautiful ring cut in one of the exact styles I liked back in the day when I tried rings on. The connection didn't hit me right away though. I was more inclined to be reminded of one of my oldest friends who's birthday is today and who's hand and ring looks identical to the one in the picture. However, on second glance on seeing the next picture of the collage...

It's those second glances that get you.

On second glance it was revealed to belong to one of my fellow interns of last summer. One out of four of us in the whole group of 30 some girls that were of the same culture and one of the 3 of us with the same color hair. As a matter of fact, we looked very similar and acted very similar - same hair color, same tiny build, similar mannerisms. We hadn't spent a tremendous amount of time together but we had connected immediately when we did.

So there she was engaged. Good for her!

And then I saw him. It wasn't really him... but it looked like him. It was a guy in ministry (or at least I think he is) that was older that had a haircut bordering on the older side that towered over her in the pictures that had a beard. Perhaps most unforgivable was that obstinate button down shirt and khaki pants. And she looked bright and happy with her arms flung around him... just like me for ever so briefly... briefly as in like 3 weeks. I began rousing from my stupidity after that though it would take much longer to fully see everything objectively. For me... it was a response to finally being "loved" after years of wanting someone else to love me... it was a response to thinking I could make people happy and be doing the right thing for a change if I responded to the wooing of a guy in ministry. Of course all those reasons are wrong and stupid but half the time you don't know yourself well enough to know your own reasons when you're growing up. I sure didn't until I looked back later. That's part of growing up. That's why I feel confident saying I'm older now. I stop and think about stuff now and overanalyze my reasons before doing something major. I learned. You have to learn from your mistakes to grow up.

But for a second staring at her in the picture... I saw his look transferred to the other man's eyes. I cringed. I panicked. I wanted to reach out and rip her away.

And then I realized what I was doing and shook myself. I'm not much for judging people and here I was doing it. I'm also not much for sticking my nose in people's business. And here I was contemplating it.

So I shook myself and scolded me hard and moved along to the piles of coursework waiting for me. Oh yeah, wherever he is... I find it ironic that now we're split I'm doing courses through the Bible school he though so highly of. Like he wanted me to go but be sure and be engaged first to him. Like it made you something special or something. Ok, I'm being too harsh... what is my problem?

So I shake it off and go back to the jungles of blurry text thanks to a light fever. Stuff like this happens all the time when you're a survivor. In order to be a victor, you have to choose. Choose to move on. Choose to let go. Choose to stop and pray instead of wallowing.

So today in this new normal I'm choosing to turn away, to work on forgiving (again), and focus on something else - like the Spirit of God which we're studying currently.

It all comes down to a choice. What will you choose?

The Ghosts in the Closet

9.13
Best I can reckon it was bringing out that piece of furniture that brought the ghosts out.

So yesterday I had to get out a piece of furniture that hadn't been used for awhile... and although I was getting it out for some really special people that my family and I absolutely love... I guess the reason we bought it in the first place was enough to give me nightmares. We bought it right before they came for them.

But I was getting it out for a happy occasion. So minus snapping at my sibling when they came in with something... I thought it was all good. We had a great time. Around 12:30am we called it a long day and parted ways for the night. As usual that old surge of not wanting to go to bed - that subconscious fear of something be it of sleep disappearing as soon as my head touches the pillow, being alone with a thousand suppressed wonderings and being forced to toss them out or nightmares - came on. It always does. It's the weird new normal. New as in a year and a half or so. Maybe it started before that when I struggled through insomnia in high school. But the uncertainty and my inability to trust fully the way I should... well it ended up escalating into this phenomenon of not sleeping for a good long while til exhaustion hits. The new normal.

Eventually I slipped into that elusive sleep.

9.14
wee hours of the morning...
Then the dream came. The dream crisscrossed my favorite dream with my worst nightmare. It started with me getting something I always wanted, or at least beginning to get it maybe, and then really, really, really probably getting it... and then it took a wrong turn and tail-spun into the nightmare - the nightmare of so many: of receiving abuse at the hands of someone you trust. It was so impossibly bizarre and yet so disconcertingly realistic - the very trees in the neighbor's yard were correctly placed. I had dreamed of the incident re-occurring in one way or another again, but never like this. Never someone I trusted so much.

A theme in the dream was no commitment. "Zilch" as my grandma would say. Just empty half promises and raising of hopes. That's fairly normal too nowadays it seems. Action yet no commitment or empty promises with no action to follow it up. The new normal. 

The day goes on. 

7pm
Someone messages me and wants to share their current hard situation. Why? Because apparently it reminded them of my life and story. And it was like, thanks... but no thanks. Like on the one hand I'm glad I can help but another part of me wishes I never had to have gone through this jazz and be the first thing people think about. So I say a few things. But I don't really know what to say - like there's so much and yet it could be  taken so wrong. Decide to pray before giving any more advice. This is the new normal. 

10:42
Movie is paused. Check messages. Another change. I'm getting used to changes now.#thenewnormal

It's my boy that isn't mine. He wants me to know he's taking an internet break but if I need him here's how to reach him. I don't need an explanation. I get it. It's one of those moments impossible to understand by the public. On the one hand, I'm so proud. We talked about this awhile ago and so it's probably for the same reasons. One of which isn't just being tired of negative people on FB. I'm happy he's fighting. The dragon is going to die someday. Maybe it'll be soon. Through and with God, the battle may eventually be won in this lifetime. On the other hand, I'm let me know and told me how to reach him. That he actually cares enough to be around if I need him. That's the way this crazy friendship works. It can go awhile without talking - but if one of us needs something. Well, we know where to go. And it's perfectly normal. the constant normal for once... On the other hand, it's bittersweet. I'm going to miss them. I always do. But I'm used to it. I can foresee I'm going to talk about them too often and people are going to fuss about it. They don't understand that talking about a loss makes it almost seem like the person's closer in a far away sort of way.

It's a life I'd never choose on the bad days... on the good days I would. Good as in I feel good. Not necessarily the situation. But everyday I know with a clear certainty that this is the life I'm meant to live. No matter what. This is how God meant it. This is for a reason. Everything. Love and losing. Happiness and agony. Life and death. And so resting in that fact it's ok. Deep down where it really matters, it's ok. It's not always on the surface. I complain. I don't like this new normal. I don't like complications and pain. I don't like being different. But really, despite all my complaining, it's ok. Because God arranges life. He never does anything without a purpose. He knows. And that's really enough. Maybe it's so it can help someone or maybe it's to grow me more into His image. It's probably more like both.

So do I love this new normal? Not really. But would I trade this life for another? Maybe I'd like to, maybe in the moments of weakness when I wake up shaking inwardly from yet another nightmare I'd be tempted to. But would I? No, because this is the one God planned out and gave me. And no matter what you say, I won't change my mind on that. He's got this. I asked Him to. And even if I didn't, He's sovereign. So yeah.

Here's to this new normal.

You're going to hear me roar....
You held me down but I got up.
Already brushing off the dust... 
I see it all. I see it now...
Dancing through the fire
Cuz I am a champion." - "Roar"

Today - Looking back.... and forward

Today is a day special to 13. I don't normally post things like this on this blog... but I think this justifies a deviation from the usual subject musings. If it wasn't for 13, this blog may have never been born. Maybe I would have just stayed sheltered in my little world. Maybe I would have never seen pain, agony, and the dirt of the world right under my nose. And if I never saw it... then I would have never had the blessing of realizing my own brokenness, forced to turn to God, and experienced the unspeakable joy of watching Him work.

I would have never experienced the full joy of rolling up my sleeves and being allowed the honor of volunteering in the ditches. I would have never known the passion which now possesses me. I  would have never perhaps found the need - that need that when you see it forces you off the couch and away from the tv and throw down your chips and say, "No more! I have to do something!"

And perhaps if there was never 13, then the motivation to keep going, to keep learning and trying and growing and trying to make a difference wouldn't be there. Definitely never in the face of opposition or well-meant people expressing their doubts.

But whenever I want to quit - I see a pair of blue eyes floating through the mist of  years and pain and skeletons coming after us. I hear words encouraging me to process things and think through hard topics and move pass this, and not just move on... but make something positive out of it.

And most of all... I never would have understood that love means doing/being what the other person needs or wants - not what I need or want.

13, I can never say the things I want to to you to your face... at least not now. Maybe someday...  And why is another post for another day.

But thank You, God, for giving me such an inspiration, for giving me someone to stretch and grow me way more than I ever could on my own. Thank You. I'm out of words... so I'll just end with a simple but heartfelt...

Thank You.

A Reminder about Love

So today... was a day... a good day... but ending on note of reminder. In part a reminder of what I would really like to forget once in awhile. A reminder that 13 and I see differently sometimes. That our decisions are once again splitting in different directions. A reminder that we are trying to put duct tape on those cracked edges of concrete paths instead of flat out facing them. A reminder that maybe one day I'm going to have to face fighting battles without them...

I don't like facing that.

I used to be better about forgiveness and working things through. Now I just get sad and depressed and think depressed thoughts... that perhaps I was never loved the way I thought I was...  That maybe everyone is right. That no two people can reach across so many lines. That I should have never tried, never thought I could with so much stacked against us - families, social classes, cultures, backgrounds that have shaped us into who we are with our own baggage, ideas, and expectations. yada yada yada.. you get the general idea.

I was giving up. Ready to quit. Mad. Mad at them for not loving me better. Mad at them for not fighting harder. For not showing me more. For not seeing what I was so sure was the truth stamped on the wall in front of their face. For making what I consider poor decisions.

And I was ranting to my best friend, not too unusual, poor girl! She always puts up with me even when I shouldn't be put up with. Tonight was no exception. Also as usual when I'm close to my last straw or losing the right mindset, she said something profound.

First she explained how people hide behind fronts when things are really bothering them. So the arguing tonight could be, and probably was looking back, just as much a front even if they believed a 100% what I was saying. Because debating about theoretical theology is ten times easier than facing and discussing reality.

"Love him,
… Love him expecting to never get anything back. But love him and keep showing him God through your love. It’s all you can do (well, that and pray) but it’s the most powerful thing. And I venture to say that your prayers and love have done a lot for that boy ;)
You will be okay…and tomorrow will be better (or least we can hope!)"

What she said was so profound. What is the point of love? What we can get out of it? Or what the other person needs? 

Christ loved us with a sacrificial love, laying down His own life for us. He could have just wiped out the earth and started over with a fresh, sinless creation. But no. He took the hard way - He chose to save us. To be born a man, live a man limited by a human shell, experience every form of pain, agony and abuse. To be in His final hour forsaken by the Father as He took on the sin of the world despite being the most blameless Lamb. To die an excruciating death. And then to descend where finite mortals, not infinite God, are forced to descend, to Hades, where He wrested the keys away from Satan and stripped death of its power. All this so we might be cleansed of sin, made new in Him. And then made pure as snow, transformed more and more into His image like a mirror beholding and reflecting  through the lifetime work of transformation, able to finally begin to fathom and return this love. (And to think at times I complain about the pain of transformation! How short compared to eternity and the extent of all He has done!) We will never fully comprehend this love nor know it's depths though we have eternity to contemplate it. 

And yet we complain when we dish out love and don't reap the outcome we want? What kind of love is that? Selfish, low down, stingy, and mean. If you want your wishes gratified, go buy a gallon of ice cream. Love is about leaving the other person better off than you found them. It's about seeing their needs and making sure they're met. "It's about doing what's best for them even to the extent of sacrificing their wants at times." - 13. It's easier at times to give someone what they want than what they need. After all there is a self satisfaction in being thanked and praised. If nothing else, it saves one from hearing the whining and complaining.

So what is love if it is not imitating God's love? Fleshly, low, as changing as the wind, love.
And then there is perfect love, able to cast out all fear - capable of surmounting all obstacles, even hell itself. "Love never falls away" (1 Cor. 13:8). Everything else may pass away but this love will not.

God is love. Love with His love. Not yours. Yours will die. His survived death.

It all boils down to...

So today... has been a day. Parts of it mundane. Like cooking greens. Parts of it full of the little joys. Like someone showing you a picture of a model and saying they look like you! And parts of it just plain bad. Like someone walking in and teasing me about my crush and him sitting right there unbeknownst to them.

And as usual, Sunday proved a day of musings. Not all connected... but all making me think, growing me. Because this happens often, I'm going to start this series and entitle it "Sunday Musings."

Random musing while ranting about something else (consider it the light bulb moment in the not so turning to Christ moment): Ultimately, choosing the right actions in life should generally come down to honoring Christ, helping others, and doing the right thing. Not the easy thing. Not the fun thing. Not what we want. 

Or even simpler: His will.

Not WWJD or what's the right thing. Because let's face it. A lot of times there are two good decisions or two bad ones. On our own it's hard to know which one's right.

So it comes down to whatever is important to you.

For me, all too often what's important to me is me. But my hope and goal and prayer is that God would continue to revolutionize my thinking making me put more and more of an emphasis on honoring and glorifying Him. His will. Not what I want or even what I think I need.

Just Christ. 
Just God. 

Two Dreams

I'm not for putting stock in dreams. I try to be logical for the most part. And most of my dreams at least can be explained perfectly logically. For that matter the two dreams I'm going to mention today I can explain in a perfectly logical way. Therefore, my purpose isn't so much that they mean something is going to happen or not happen or whatever. Instead, they serve as a sort of metaphor to me.

---------------------------------

The first one happened a couple nights ago. It was very brief. I dreamed someone hugged me and all my pieces popped back into place. I couldn't see their face really. It blurred out. But they seemed so happy... and I asked if this was real... if the pieces were going to stay in place this time... if this was for real. Even in the dream there was a vague flashback to the time when I'd said it... moments before it went down... as I reached over for a hug... the beginning of the start of the cyclone that sucked me down, down, down in a tornado of abuse, manipulation, and ripping scars.

But this time, this time the voice of the fuzzy faced personage said, "Yes, this is real." He didn't say it over and over and over again like the voice in the cyclone. He just said, "Yes," and laughed that happy, happy laughter.

It was brief. Very brief. But it enough
                                                       
                                                           ------------------------------------  

The second one came the next day. It was precisely what I wanted. Everything. It was the person I wanted, the embrace I wanted, the kiss to be rid of that other kiss, the words I wanted to hear - tons of them rolling on about how it would all be ok, it would hold up despite whatever, we'd face it all and fight it all together... 

And yet there was still stress. Everything was quite good. It was the strangest sensation of having everything one wanted, being overjoyed over it, and yet... something was still stressful... there was that worry still nagging in the back of my mind - worry about whether things would go smoothly, worry that just because he loved me and I loved him he wouldn't stick around if everyone didn't accept it immediately. Worry... worry... 

                                                        -----------------------------------------------

I don't believe either of the two scenarios will play out, at least not in exact detail. But it did make me think and convicted me. There's a difference between what we want and what's best for us. God doesn't always not give us what we want. But sometimes it's with a twist for the better. But when we're focused on just what we want we can't always let go enough to see the best that He wants to give us. Not that He can't just knock our plans out of our hands. However, it's generally easier and smoother if we go ahead and relinquish. He'd really rather us just rely on Him. Believe in Him. Not be duped by Satan's counterfeit that sometimes comes right after the revelation to tempt us, like my second dream followed my first. 

So that's why... 

I'm working on letting go of dream two... giving it over to Him. 
And meanwhile just walking down the road of life content with where I am and with what I have. Whether He brings dreams one or two or another I can't even imagine, which is probably what it will be (I LOVE His surprises!), it doesn't matter. He's got this.

I don't believe in me.

I believe in Him.

It's Not About Us

Sometimes I'm so annoyed by people's self-centeredness. And then I see my own selfishness... and it irks and pains me so deeply. The guilt of being such a big hypocrite....
My dad and I had a conversation about that the other day...
You know... it's not about us...

It's not about us

It's not about my preferences. My prejudices. My way. My favorite.
It's about Him and what's on His heart.

Not about my comfort zone. It's not about my passion, my wish, my desire, my dream. It doesn't matter how uncomfortable or unsure or ridiculous I feel. It's not about the degree of logic or illogical things are to my "brilliant" mind. It's not about how I like it or don't like it. It's not about how I like to serve or worship or who I want to love any more than how I like my beans cooked. We would for the most part agree that the way we like our beans cooked doesn't matter in the long run compared to taking care of other believers, preaching the gospel, or obeying our Lord.

Sadly... sometimes we treat the important stuff like only our preference matters.
If wearing a purple shirt offends someone, I should wear the blue. If the purple shirt was unscriptural, I should totally wear the blue even if it makes me uncomfortable. As someone very wise recently said (the exact quote is escaping me so here's the paraphrase Mia version :P), we're all eager to do our utmost to not offend anyone and everyone except for the God of the universe.

The ultimate love or service or worship or obedience is 100% about Christ and His Body and 100% not about me.