He leads me beside stilly waters.

I kept having these dreams, you see. There was that, and other things that I saw as totally random and of no importance. Night after night, I dreamt of him. I haven’t spoken to my ex in almost 2 years. I rarely think of him anymore, thankfully. And then, all of the sudden, I couldn’t stop him from showing up in my dreams. He didn’t wait for an invitation, and there wasn’t a welcome. But still, he was there. I couldn’t explain it, and I didn’t like it. But I couldn’t stop it.

And then my phone went off. I woke up, and he was gone.

Weeks earlier, the first guy I dated and I became friends again. Small world, OSU is.

My phone went off again. This time it was an alert telling me my other ex was now following me on Twitter. Another person far away in the past, brought back to life, fresh in my mind. I didn’t really mind, and I put the thought away casually, not thinking much of it.

Tuesday of finals week rolled around, and it was getting closer, too close, to the days where my friends would start to move away for the summer. Some had already left. I knew my little town was about to shrink by the thousands. I was beginning to feel that sense of sentimentality, knowing that people I had grown close to were about to leave. I could tell that soon I would want to write, but I didn’t know quite what at the time. I can’t stand the feeling of writing without purpose, so I was hoping for some sort of inspiration. Still, it wasn’t there. I waited.

That day, my phone went off again. It was a text from the last guy I messed around with a year ago. A totally pointless text and, honestly, I was annoyed that I got it. I responded and, once again, regarded it as unimportant, not seeing the connection at all between all of these texts and dreams and reminders of my past.

At nine that night I drove out to church, same as every Tuesday. It was the last Overflow of the school year. It smelled like cows outside with my windows rolled down – typical of the country roads I have grown to love here in Stillwater. An hour of singing to my Jesus was exactly what I needed after the stress of the school year came to a relieving halt.

I wish I could remember what song I was singing. I do, however, remember realizing that it was the last Overflow for some of my friends who were graduating, and I burst into tears. Crying isn’t necessarily uncommon at Overflow, but this time it was different. For the first time in quite a few years, I actually had friends, real friends, to miss. Not that I wanted to miss them. I didn’t want anyone to leave. It was then that I realized just how far I had come in the past year.

And that’s when I realized why my past had become a reoccurring memory lately. Why all of it had been brought to the very forefront of my mind. It took rewinding and remembering, even in my dreams, to take my thoughts to that very moment in the dark LifeChurch sanctuary that night. The realization that God, before the beginning of time, before the atoms that He created to make up my cells to make up my body were even breathed into existence, planned and knew down to the infinitely divided fraction of time that I would have those dreams, that I would receive that text message, that I would be reminded of my past, all of this blew my mind.

This, loves, is my thank you letter to God. These words radiate my thankfulness, every word.

Once upon a time, I hated the word Stilly. Even after I moved here, I still hated it. I thought it sounded awkward and unintelligent. It didn’t take long for me to dream of moving away once I got here. Maybe Fayetteville, maybe back home to Tulsa, maybe someplace far away like San Francisco or New York City or maybe even another country, where I could become fabulous and artsy and make lots of friends with septum piercings and tattoos and plugs stretching out their earlobes halfway down their necks.

Instead, I stayed. Even when I got out of my first lease here, I didn’t leave. If you’ve read enough of this blog, you don’t need me to repeat it, but I’ll say it again. I didn’t have a whole lot of friends. Loneliness and desperation dragged me down to past decisions, these horrible past decisions that led to sadness and anger. The past decisions that God pieced together so fluidly at Overflow in my mind, making my head spin with overwhelming amazement.

August came, and I met my Stillwater family. Some might say it’s just the effect of looking in retrospect, but I know for a fact that the first night I sat in a room with the people who were soon to become basically my family, I thought to myself, “These are people I can see myself being best friends with.” Looks like I was right.

First semester came, and I learned how much I appreciate and truly love the men in my life. No longer was I confining myself from befriending guys. Somehow, even after dancing like a fool, messing up (multiple) recipes, and proclaiming a love for all things sparkly, I managed to find guys like Justin, Chris, both the Nicks, David, Tim, Travis, Tarron, Levi, and Derek – guys who were genuine and who have been consistently dependable and honest. It was, and continues to be, very refreshing to have these men of God in my life after years of believing that 1) I wasn’t good at being friends with guys and 2) guys were either tools or obnoxious.

Second semester came, and I found solid girlfriends. Funny how I used to think guys were dumb, and then I actually got to know some, and my mind was changed – so I flip-flopped and started telling myself that all other girls were catty and rude, and then those new theories were also challenged and put to rest. A lesson in humility, no? God gave me these people to help me remember that I cannot put a stamp of approval or disapproval on one group of people. Even as I type this, it is still convicting. He did not have to teach me this. I could still be wandering in my pointless condemnation, sinking further and further down into the ideas that I am so much better. But instead He brought me Kaitlin and Courtney, Audrey and Sydney, Kathryn, Rachel, on and on the list goes, women of God who were there for me when I needed a girlfriend to confide in who wouldn’t just run to the next girl and repeat what was just said.

Through all of this, I ebbed and flowed in my enthusiasm for worship and the Word and my dear, dear Jesus. Some nights were more like daylight, shining with excitement. Others brought a lack of understanding, a confusion, going to bed unsure of my future and how I would make it through successfully. The end of the school year was particularly stressful, especially after I realized just how terribly I was doing in my classes, then realized I wouldn’t be able to pay all of my rent on time. But my God does not fail in His provision. He taught me dependence on Him and that I can trust others to help loosen me from my death grip on self-given independence. He brought me to my knees to bring me up and bring me close to Him, holding me when I cannot even support myself. He was so much in love with me through every moment when I sat in a sermon, dead to the words being spoken, trying to find something to stoke my emotions but finding nothing.

In all of these times, through the good and bad and dark and joyous and confusing and every single moment of this school year, God was good to me.

God. Is. Good. Good is not just the adjective. Good is what God is. He brings all goodness and He IS what good is.

Oh, and I love the word Stilly now. Take from that what you may.

little miss dependent.

there’s a good chance if you’re reading this that you’re a college student like me.

there’s also a good chance that if you’re a college student, you’re in the first few years of your independence from parents, rules of the house, etc etc.

do you long for independence?

i have for years. getting out of the house and making my own rules (without getting in trouble) was a big deal for me. by the end of high school, i was so hard-headed and rebellious that i often didn’t come home until 2 am on school nights. i wanted to make my own rules, so i did. i went to ou without knowing what i wanted to do, just glad that i was finally on my own. i craved an independence where i could flawlessly support myself and made my own rules.

but currently my desire for independence is kicking my butt.

i am fortunate enough to have parents who respect my desire to make my own decisions. i don’t have to ask to take road trips (or big trips), i don’t have a looming fear that they will get mad at me when i get new tattoos, and i know that even if i go too long without making a trip home, they won’t make me feel bad about it. they have encouraged me in growing up and learning how to be a working adult.

however, i have not made very good decisions in the past few months concerning managing different aspects of my life. whether it be money, time, grades, or whatever else, i’m failing. full time school and full time work, i have learned, is a combination that is not the most enjoyable way to spend one’s college career, especially when so many people surrounding you have significantly more free time (and somehow more money) than you.

my desire to fix everything on my own has kept me from asking for help, until this morning. but up until then, i kept it hushed and veiled. i feared that my dad would be mad that i wasn’t the stellar student like i was in high school. i have wanted and wanted some more for months now that i could just have the motivation to run a perfect schedule. so many ideas for organization and efficiency run through my head and i think about how maybe i could possibly become so perfectly organized that even june cleaver would be jealous of me.

but then the real world hits, and the time that i set aside for studying gets turned into nap time, because work time leaves me exhausted. i won’t rewrite all of this. it’s a terrible cycle and i’m sure i’ve already written plenty about it. but needless to say, i keep thinking in my little brain that maybe i can fix myself to where i am magically transformed from unorganized mess to glittering super-domestic-fantastic-baker-perfect-grades-efficient-worker-clean-apartment girl.

how many times must i fall on my face to realize that i cannot do it myself? i called my dad today and finally told him that i am struggling and that i need his help putting my life in order. not exactly the most pleasant thing for me, laying on my bed and crying like a baby at the realization that my so-called efforts to maintain a solid independence from my parents have failed, or at least partly so. but after our conversation, i realized a few things:

1) i should have asked for help sooner.

2) my dad is awesome.

3) it’s okay to ask for help.

4) maybe seeking a total independence isn’t the best way i can grow and lead at this point in my life.

and this is where my journey begins. my journey that is growing free from a deeply rooted fear of dependence. some dependence is okay. i’ll keep updates on this lesson i am learning and how it relates to growing as a Christ follower. as i go along, feel free to give me feedback and share your own stories. let’s continue in our walks and our growth together, never alone in our struggles.

the april story.

she woke up, half dressed and twirled around under her blanket. the sunshine peered through the crooked blinds as if to remind her that the day had started without her — it was already time for her second class to begin.

but the reality is that it didn’t exactly bother her. yes, there was a twinge of…something. not quite guilt. more like a heaviness, a pound more of stress being laid upon her conscience for not making it to class. the annoyance of having to email others for notes and hoping that they paid enough attention to write down the important stuff.

honestly, though, this stress wasn’t the most pressing issue of the day. funny, how that happens. she was only awake for half an hour before the stresses began to overtake her thoughts. she reached for her laptop and began to write furiously, her fingers tapping out the poetic rhythm of her story.

lately she had been focused on the wrong things. attention, vanity, lust, anger, greed, laziness, among others. this sequence of words — funny how they contradict the freedom, beauty, truth, and love that she believed that she stood for. freedom, for sure, would be freedom from those feelings and longings that consumed her thoughts. just that alone would suffice. with freedom would come the other three. yet the feeling of freedom lingered down the road, waiting for her to get out of bed and run for it, reaching out to take the baton and continue a relay that never ends.

the excitement of a race, you’d think, would be enough for her. you’d think it would serve as its own motivation. but no, it simply didn’t. even in her most competitive, excited moments, she could not find the energy to press on. she wanted freedom to feel like she had no other choice, and joyfully persevere through the uphill stretch.

still, she lay in bed. she sat in her room, eating whatever she could scrounge out of her pantry, because there weren’t enough groceries for real meals. her greed had led to this. she spent and spent and spent. she bought silly things that she thought, always at the time of purchase but never at home, would fulfill. it was becoming far too easy to become distracted from the goal by tangible, temporary things. “i’ll just eat less and drive less, and spend less money on the important things like food and gasoline,” was the thought that continually ran through her head at the supermarket. apparently that was supposed to justify spending on the newest products to (at least partially) satisfy her vanities.

just to be pretty, just to hear that she was beautiful. she heard it from plenty of people, but not from those who she truly longed to hear it from. her lusts led her to crave this vain attention. she thought more of her desires than of the One who had the answer that cured her longings — and the answer was different from what she was seeking.

and then, writing all of this, she realized her brokenness wasn’t anything of the past. the big sins of years earlier, the ones that Jesus had overcome and forgiven, those weren’t the ones holding her back anymore. to give her all was to shake off the new sins. realizing this was sobering. it was time to move away from the idea that those sins were over and done with and all the improvements in her were complete. there was much to work past. it was at this moment that she realized, once again, that she was not good like she thought she was. obvious to many already, yes, but to her, it took longer to see.

she needed a Redeemer that knew her deepest thoughts, the ones that flowed like songs in her mind but could never materialize into real, spoken words. she needed a Redeemer who saw her as a struggling daughter and would help her up, never once holding it over her head.

here’s the thing: she needed a Redeemer. and in the mess of her life, in her messy room, having skipped class yet again, thinking about the superficial ideals that she might never reach, dreaming of perfect hair and future boyfriends and legs that never need shaving and disposable income and an apartment straight out of pinterest and extra time in the day and possible careers and more tattoos and all of the things that will never bring her a true joy and satisfaction, in all of this, she came to the conclusion that it was time.

time for renewal.

decluttering.

and clinging even harder to the One who was going to hold her up above the excess and the sin that threateningly encroached upon her day after day after day.

chasing change.

while 90% of the rest of the american college population was out getting schwastey (or doing rainy yardwork, as quite a number of people i know did) over spring break, i stayed right in my little college town. despite my work schedule of nearly 40 hours, i managed to set aside plenty of time to get organized. for the past few (yet still too many) months, i’ve basically been setting aside my real, tangible responsibilities for relationships. it’s easy for me to see the big picture a lot of times when it comes to people, but not when it comes to school. i do have goals, don’t get me wrong, it’s just that if you give me a situation with a  hurting person, i am way more likely to gravitate towards spending time with them than, say, finishing my homework ahead of time. this has led me to a horrible, unorganized procrastination. it’s given me horrible sleep deprivation, which leads me to eat unhealthily, when leads me to waste my money on food that makes me feel like crap, which leads me to become more and more unhappy with how my body looks, which leads to jealousy and more insecurities than i’d like to admit to, which makes me sad, which makes me lazy, which makes my apartment a MESS. it’s a lethal domino effect.

but here’s the thing. at church a couple of weeks ago i attended an event called chazown (you can check it out for yourself online at www.chazown.com). in a very condensed nutshell, it is an experience that combines your past experiences, your spiritual gifts, and your core values to help you hone in on your individual passions, visions, and ultimately, your purpose as a Christ follower. before i went to chazown, it was already becoming clear to me that i have a desire to eventually start my own business in the future. with the constant jumble of ideas in my head, the headstrong, make-my-own-rules personality i have (a blessing and a curse, i must admit), and the number of tattoos that i currently have (6, half of which can only  be covered if i wear gloves) — not to mention the ones i will get in the future — i realized that starting my own thing is ultimately the path i will prepare myself to take. this was before chazown, remember. my passions for the beauty industry and tattooing are easy to identify, so somehow merging those with an honest, Christ-centered business ethic seemed to be my purpose…right?

mostly.

what i didn’t fully realize until after chazown was that i don’t just want to create a business built on honesty and Christ-like love. i want to create a place of refuge. not just for fellow believers, no, not that at all, although they, of course, will be welcome. looking back at the most influential, godly people from my past, it is very clear that those who helped to point me very directly towards Christ were those who gave me refuge from whatever problems i was facing at the time. these aren’t the people who got mad at me when i was making a fool of myself, stumbling and stumbling over my sins countless times after they told me what i should be doing. no, these people LOVED. at times, it wasn’t what i necessarily wanted to hear, but it was love. it was Jesus speaking through the words and actions of these people.

and their actions continue with me. though mostly just small acts, i have a huge desire to provide refuge. i want to open my apartment,  however small, to those who need a place to stay. no charge. no questions. just a place for people to come when they need to. last summer, i let my best friend live with me for a few months (technically against the apartment rules, and eventually my roommates found out, but that’s a whole different story). i’ve picked people up in the middle of the night when their roommates have parties/boys over for sexy time/whatever else and let them stay in my bed. i’d do it again in a heartbeat. if anyone needs to talk, they are welcome to show up at my door and spill everything, escaping at least for a moment from their crazy lives and relaxing in the peace of time with a friend.

but back  to what i was saying originally. i’ve struggled with organization for far too long. for months and months i have asked WHY. why do i have all of these ideas for organizing my schedule and never follow through on them? i constantly get inspired to make a to-do list…and then never actually do ANYTHING on it. i make piles of things to put away, and never put them away. and then, of course, studying falls by the wayside, because all of the mess just stresses me out, and i get tired and lazy.

before, my reasons for sticking to an organized lifestyle and a stricter schedule have been selfish. i’ll want to make a schedule so i have more time to work out so i look better. i’ll make a to-do list so i feel accomplished, and it stops there. maybe i’ll finally do my laundry just so that it’s easier to put together a crazy outfit, and that way i’ll walk with my head held a little higher on campus. but these reasons are all so, so empty. yes, it’s good to be organized, but my motivation was void of real significance. it was all for myself and no one else.

finally, though, i realized that my chazown basically requires me to be organized myself. when i focused in on my passion for providing a place of refuge, i realized, who wants to seek refuge in a dirty apartment? who will want to come over if i’m a stressed out, too-tired mess who has only minimal energy to listen to someone’s concerns? how can i serve Jesus in the workplace to my full potential if i am only half-hearted about accomplishing tasks in a timely, efficient manner? and how can i even attempt to pursue life as an entrepreneur if i can’t even stick to a simple schedule? if i do not learn to manage my time and stay organized as a single 20-year-old, there is no way i will function well in the future as a (hopefully) married (working?) woman with (hopefully) multiple children.

serving Jesus and serving others starts now, and it starts with laying down my laziness and my unmotivated spirit, giving my selfish motivation the boot and picking up the new life. i do not expect this to necessarily be easy — breaking old habits never is — but i do expect and believe that Jesus will provide a way out from my selfishness and my laziness.

ladies and gentlemen, my chazown is this: to encourage and influence those who are lost or in need of a friend, giving them refuge and pointing them to Christ.

it has already begun.

“Yes. I’m full of myself—after all, I’ve spent a long time in sin’s prison. What I don’t understand about myself is that I decide one way, but then I act another, doing things I absolutely despise. So if I can’t be trusted to figure out what is best for myself and then do it, it becomes obvious that God’s command is necessary.

 ^17-20But I need something more! For if I know the law but still can’t keep it, and if the power of sin within me keeps sabotaging my best intentions, I obviously need help! I realize that I don’t have what it takes. I can will it, but I can’t do it. I decide to do good, but I don’t really do it; I decide not to do bad, but then I do it anyway. My decisions, such as they are, don’t result in actions. Something has gone wrong deep within me and gets the better of me every time.

 ^21-23It happens so regularly that it’s predictable. The moment I decide to do good, sin is there to trip me up. I truly delight in God’s commands, but it’s pretty obvious that not all of me joins in that delight. Parts of me covertly rebel, and just when I least expect it, they take charge.

 ²⁴I’ve tried everything and nothing helps. I’m at the end of my rope. Is there no one who can do anything for me? Isn’t that the real question?

 ²⁵The answer, thank God, is that Jesus Christ can and does. He acted to set things right in this life of contradictions where I want to serve God with all my heart and mind, but am pulled by the influence of sin to do something totally different.”

Romans 7:15-25, The Message

overwhelming love for the overwhelmed.

i did not ask to be enthusiastic.

it’s basically in my blood.

my friends will agree with me, i get excited about stuff. passing out talknotes at church, check. sparkles, yup, that too. getting t. bell with friends at midnight, yes sir, that as well. i dork out like a little kid every time i get a new tattoo. i am ridiculously excited for birthdays that aren’t even mine, and you probably don’t want to be near me whenever i listen to the new passion album that was just released, because, as justin has experienced, i just might break out into some intense punch-dancing.

yall, i’ve been called a smile slut (yes, tarron, thank you for that). i can’t help but be happy.

being so bubbly and enthusiastic is a gift from God. i know that a lot of people aren’t like this. i understand that for most, being so joyful and excited doesn’t exactly come naturally. for some, it isn’t as frequent. but for me, it is.

…but there are times when it fades. the enthusiasm cannot hold under a weight of insecurities and waning confidence. i’m all for two things: joy and honesty. and if i am not feeling joyful, i’m gonna be honest about it. it’s not very easy for me to act okay when i’m not. lately i encountered a struggle that i, for a long time, assumed wasn’t going to catch up with me for a long, long time. i found myself comparing myself to other girls, seeing a lack of flaws where i am flawed and becoming jealous. seeing where girls get attention from guys and feeling similar feelings as i did as a young girl, way more awkward than my friends and ending up as the third wheel, the “best friend,” the supporting actress. becoming mired down in my unorganized, mishmashed life with dreams and aspirations that i felt could only be achieved if only i could first reach some pinnacle of pinterest-y fabulousness.

this has been such a strange experience — up until the past few weeks, i was basically overflowing with confidence… not in an arrogant way, just being totally satisfied in who God has made me as His daughter. i was happy in my physicality, in my singleness, in my circumstances.

what was it that changed? friends have prayed and Jesus is at work — i am on my way back. it still lingers, though. the difference seems to be a mystery.why in the world would i suddenly lose the beautiful confidence i have been given for months now? what changed me? the insecurities that i have battled have brought me to tears. i do not want them, yet they still haunt me.

i strive to avoid being a stereotypical girl (ignore my obsession with pink and sparkles for a quick second). i hate that this kind of problem is something i must overcome.

this post is not my victory post. it is not me preaching and saying that i can do it on my own. this post is me on my knees. up until now, my posts have basically been me reviewing past sins and struggles and teaching from that, but this, this is different. i know i cannot be the only person who is crying out to Jesus to make her clean, make her different, make her new.

my prayer is to find security in Jesus. to rest in Him and no one else and nothing else. to find His strength in my weakness. to trust Him with my future. to love myself as His creation. to understand the importance of giving Him my days, using them to the fullest and finding beauty in that. to care more for others than my own appearances, and to never turn back. i cannot backtrack in my walk. i know this and write this but to feel it is something entirely different.

basically this all boils down to realizing that Jesus is holding me and will forever continue to do so. pray for my passion to grow, and for my confidence in Him as His daughter to be renewed.

if only you knew.

at my job, i often see regular customers — people who come in once, sometimes twice a day. because i’ve been at my job for about a year and a half, i have been able to get to know some, but then there are the ones that are simply familiar faces that i am happy to see without any further, in depth conversation. it’s easy for me to like these people and serve them happily, providing customer service without a second thought. but what if i knew the real them? what if i knew what they’re doing after they leave the store? would i still treat them the same way?

people without stories are easy to love on the surface. it doesn’t pain me to say hello to the customer who walks into my store when i don’t know that she’s just gotten back into town after cheating on her husband. it’s easy to smile and say “have a nice day!” to the man who is, unbeknownst to me, stealing a shirt or a pair of shoes from my store. i had a regular customer for a year who was always very sweet to me — i enjoyed getting to see him in my store — and then found out a few months ago from his wife that he left her and moved to texas without her. would i have treated him any differently if i had known that he was like that?

you see, my calling is not to judge. this is something i think about when dealing with customers especially… in most cases, the most i know about them is their name. and i respect them. and i love them and serve them and try (sometimes failing, unfortunately) to show them the love of Christ. so who am i to take away that love if it turns out they aren’t the sweet old customers that i originally thought they were?

it’s a struggle. some customers aren’t easy to love to begin with. but that’s not my point. what if we stopped and realized that no matter the back story, no matter the hidden faults, no matter WHAT, we are supposed to love others?

there are dirty, sinful things about me. i have sins in my past and presently as well as in my future. i cannot judge as though i am innocent. i must love as Jesus loves.

what samson means to me.

it’s been roughly 8 months since my last hookup, and i can honestly (and mostly happily) announce that i have changed in a multitude of ways since falling flat on my face after that last encounter. i’m just going to be completely real here — i expected to, as i grew in Christ, become so free from my fears of dating and forming strong romantic relationships in the future. in many ways, i am excited for whatever comes next, whoever it may be. who wouldn’t be? the unknown is no longer terrifying to me. my God is ABLE. i cannot change what He has planned for me. even still, though, there is a dangerous and sinful element that i have discovered within myself recently that worries me.

ever since last june, i’ve started to shell up when it comes to romantic feelings. i’ve wanted to prove myself to be strong on my own. in my life i have experienced the divorce of my parents and my mom pulling herself up and becoming stronger for it. i have experienced breakups of my own where i deeply struggle to save face after embarrassing myself, and i’m over it. i don’t want to appear weak. i want to be bold, to be outspoken, to not let someone take who i have become since last summer and shake it down to the sinful core that i truly am. the idea of becoming vulnerable as i so easily used to become is more frightening than i would like it to be. resilience has become my new armor.

a confident spirit can only do so much when i am only relying on myself to be strong. it fails me often. it leads to comparing myself to other girls, to feeling a need to look better, to impress, but for who? not for Jesus, at times. it is so easy to base my “strength” for the day on how much leopard print i am wearing, or how many times i get tweeted at, or just other silly, ridiculous things like that.

but this is what builds the resilience. being liked, but not romantically (or at least to my knowledge), makes me fear my own emotions. attraction coming from me first is, in my mind, pushing myself back to how i once was. i wanted it. i lusted. i reached for it, and it bit my hand. i did it again and again and finally, it took me down.

but it didn’t take Jesus down.

that is my hope. HE is my hope. He is the only one saving me from myself in my quest to build the image of strength, when really i am fearful. the resilience is a struggle that He is fighting for me, and has, in fact, already won.

at first, when i saw the samson sermon at church this past sunday, i thought all i got out of it was that i won’t settle for anyone less who realizes his weaknesses and knows that God is his only strength. but honestly, after writing this, i can say that i need that too. i must be open with my weakness. i cannot stay resilient in the way that leads me to fear. strange how that works… trying to be unafraid leads to being afraid. but not me, not for much longer.

please pray for me. this is something i have had on my heart for a long time, but haven’t figured how to say for quite some time. i know i can’t be the only one.

stay sparkly, loves.

SAMSON, WEEK 1, LIFECHURCH.TV

resting.

i have yet to see an in-between in college.

i’m talking about sleep and rest. either someone slacks and gets plenty, or someone works their butt off and gets very, very little. as a Christian, i am called to work hard and put forth my very best in everything that i do (colossians 3). right now on my plate i have 13 hours in school, not counting homework, almost 40 hours of work a week, volunteering at church, lifegroup, and various other church-related activities. i want to pick back up on the mentoring that i have been slacking on, and i still want to have a social life and get some sort of sleep. so where in the world does my rest fit in? one of the ten commandments orders rest. it’s not an option.

honestly here in this blog post, i don’t have a solution other than to rest in Jesus when i don’t have time for actual sleep-powered rest and relaxation. at this point, i’d like to hear other people’s ideas. i’m getting burnt out from everything that’s piled on, but i have all of these new ideas all of the time for things that i want to do and accomplish and learn and how i can help people and etc etc etc.

how in the world am i supposed to work as hard as i can for the glory of God when i have no options to stop working or going to class and still achieve rest?

tweet at me, fb message me, text me, call me, talk to me in person, and first and foremost, pray for me. i know i can’t be the only one that needs this.

miss, mrs.

I used to be absolutely terrified of my future. in my late teens (which was obviously not that long ago), I spent an awful lot of time thinking about how scary my 20s were going to be… everything changes in your 20s. you go to school, or you don’t, or you get married, or you don’t, or you have kids, or you don’t, or you move far away, or you don’t, and so on and so forth. work, education, relationships, love, family – basically everything is hanging on a string, and at the beginning of it all, you have no idea which way the wind will blow.

all of that is somewhat true. I have no idea how my life will pan out. I’ve set plans for myself in the past and things have always gone differently than I have planned them to be, so recently I’ve really been learning to just let go and let God guide me through life.

but back to what I was saying. I’m not just in any life phase, right now I’m in my 20s. the very very beginning of them, in fact. I’ll be 21 at the end of next summer. as a girl (girl? woman? maybe Britney spears really did know what she was talking about) my age, it’s incredibly common to hear my girlfriends (and occasionally I will say it too) talking about marriage. yah, sometimes I hear it from my guy friends, but not nearly as often. a lot of the time, I get all weird whenever people mention marriage, because in the past I came dangerously close to it when I was in an unhealthy relationship. that’s why I often don’t talk about it, or joke about future spouses, or things along those lines. for me, it’s a touchy subject. what makes it an even touchier subject for me is the fact that 2 people that I am extremely close with, one being my older sister, and the other being one of my best friends, have gotten married at very young ages. if I had gotten married at the same age that my sister did, I would at this very moment have been married for over 4 months now. if I was to get married at the same time as my best friend, I would be getting married in less than a year. now, I totally support them getting married when they did. I love both of them so very much, and I love their husbands, and each relationship is different, so I am not at all saying that they married too young. marrying later does not constitute a necessarily healthier or more loving (or lasting) relationship. the point I am making is that now when people talk about who they want to marry, they can actually do it. it’s realistic now. it doesn’t have to take a long time, or much thought at all. I have a roommate who eloped over spring break last year with someone described to me pre-elopement as “just an asshole to hook up with.” you see, guys, it isn’t necessarily far away. and the world takes it so lightly. it’s easy to get caught up in the thrill of the possibility of getting married within the next few years.

however, another one of my good friends didn’t get married until she was 30. I met her only a short time before she got married, when she was 28. during the time that she was single (and by single I mean completely single, not even engaged or in a relationship), I was able to watch as she lived independent of a man, still living for Jesus and as a strong Christian influence on me during some tough times in my life. she made her own money, supported herself, and was classy, sassy, and disciplined. she taught me to be sweet (yes, that’s where the tattoo comes from). she was open about how she was picky about who she would marry – it was going to take someone very strong and truly in love with Jesus to sweep her off her feet. she waited, and she was rewarded. in the land of rushing to get married when you’re straight out of college, this woman kept her head on straight and held out for the Godly man she desired, and eventually found him.

why do I tell you these two sides to the story? because no two love stories are the same. God’s plan for me might involve me getting married within the next few years, or it might involve me getting married when I’m 30. or 40. or never. I’d like to think it does involve marriage sometime, naturally, it’s something I desire, but I can’t flat out say “this is what will happen, and this is when,” because I didn’t write my life story out before the beginning of time. that was definitely God who did that.

basically, it’s time for college folks (both the ladies and the gents) to look and see how good God’s plans for us are when it comes to marriage. don’t feel like you’re being left behind or that you’re falling behind when your friends get married and you don’t. don’t judge people our age who ARE getting married. don’t be jealous of those sitting in your class who got the big sparkly ring over Christmas break, or those who have already said I do. don’t think it’s weird to get married when you’re older. sometimes waiting is the best thing to do. I’m not saying don’t be proactive, but be picky. be picky for someone who is God-honoring, who LOVES JESUS more than they will ever love you – it makes all the difference (and by all, I really do mean all).

if you’re single, stay content. if you’re not content, pray to Jesus, ask Him to give you contentment in Him. ask your friends to pray for you as well. search out Jesus before you ever search out a boyfriend or a girlfriend. Jesus was, is, and will always remain to be the strongest foundation any relationship could possibly ever have.

in the end, whether or not I get married at 23 or 33 or whenever won’t define me. it’s Jesus who defines me. my life is dependent on Him, and when I stand before Jesus in heaven, I do not plan to say “my name is Malinda, and I constantly pined away for a husband when I was in college. i got married at [insert age here], which was good/bad because I wanted this/that.” I plan to fall flat on my face and worship Jesus, and the quest for earthly marriage will fade away.

do I want Jesus so much that I am learning to let go of my old expectations and give my life completely to Him?

I do.

and that is why i don’t put my plans for marriage in a box.

⁵From the Throne came a shout, a command: 

   Praise our God, all you his servants, 
   All you who fear him, small and great!

 ^6-8Then I heard the sound of massed choirs, the sound of a mighty cataract, the sound of strong thunder: 

   Hallelujah! 
   The Master reigns, 
      our God, the Sovereign-Strong! 
   Let us celebrate, let us rejoice, 
      let us give him the glory! 
   The Marriage of the Lamb has come; 
      his Wife has made herself ready. 
   She was given a bridal gown 
      of bright and shining linen. 
   The linen is the righteousness of the saints.

*Revelation 19:5-8

why i will make you a sandwich.

up until the beginning of this school year, i rarely ever had guy friends. i was awkward and uncomfortable around almost all guys, and i couldn’t just chill out to hang out like a normal person.

thankfully, i grew up a bit. turns out i actually love hanging out with guys. a lot of girls can really bother me with their overly dramatic, petty, gossipy attitudes, so just having friends who are chill is a nice change (and it just so happens to be that guys are at least 5x more chill than girls).

being the only girl (or one of a few) in a group of guys is awesome. i absolutely love it. one of the perks of this is being the butt of all of the women-in-the-kitchen jokes. honestly, i think these jokes are hilarious. i know my guy friends well enough to know they don’t mean anything malicious or demeaning towards me — to take it personally would be a bit a lot uptight. i hear “make me a sammich” or “go back to the kitchen” at least once every time i’m with them, and guess what? i would gladly make my guy friends sandwiches, or pancakes, or cupcakes, or whatever else. you know why?

because friendship is servanthood. LIFE is servanthood. being a Christian means helping each other out. i’d make my girlfriends sandwiches if they asked me, so i’ll make them for my guy friends too. if i can’t even make my friend a sandwich when he wants one, why should anyone expect me to help them when they REALLY need something?

this is personally convicting to me, because i know that i am not always the best servant. it’s not just my friends that i am called to serve. it’s the angry customer, it’s my managers, it’s my family, it’s the person who is trying to switch lanes in front of me. it’s everyone. if you are a child of God, you are called to serve in the same way.

pray for guidance in ways to serve. if it means making a sandwich, embrace it. you aren’t losing your “feminist powers” or whatever it is you think you have. you’re loving your friends and pleasing God.

alright boys, fire away with the kitchen jokes.

it’s more than just a sammich.

“It is absolutely clear that God has called you to a free life. Just make sure that you don’t use this freedom as an excuse to do whatever you want to do and destroy your freedom. Rather, use your freedom to serve one another in love; that’s how freedom grows. For everything we know about God’s Word is summed up in a single sentence: Love others as you love yourself. That’s an act of true freedom. If you bite and ravage each other, watch out—in no time at all you will be annihilating each other, and where will your precious freedom be then?”

Galatians 5:13-15