Tuesday 17 February 2015

Why Giving Up Isn't Enough

Having grown up in a predominantly protestant environment, Lent was never something I had observed. Sure, I saw and recognized the importance of it but at the same time, didn't feel like it would be beneficial to me. This year I thought I would try it and so I have decided to give up my Instagram for 40 days. O, that reminds me. I should probably delete the app.

Okay-- done.

While an app like Instagram has given me an opportunity for a creative of outlet, one that I otherwise do not have seeing as I am not particularly artistic in any other sense, it has also been the source of much discontent, envy, pride, and an unhealthy rush of seeing 'likes' pour in, acting like validation to me. I do not want a little white heart in an orange box to become my main source of affirmation anymore. I can't even blame anyone else for this as I am the sole perpetrator for this unhealthy conditioning regarding my emotions. We all want to be validated in who we are. Some of us have an unhealthy relationship with validation and seek it in all the wrong places, whether that is social media, toxic relationships, porn, or entertainment. Maybe you could consider giving some of this up for Lent and go back to the basics. What does it mean to solely rely on God for comfort? What does it mean for you to receive pure validation from Him and no one else? What would happen if He was enough for you? I am talking to myself as much as I am talking to you. I am probably writing this more so for myself than anyone else.

I have been struggling a lot lately with a lack of community. It isn't the same as a lack of friendships because truth be told, I never lack in. Community is different though. Being in a community means that you get to experience every day life with others. I am finding that I'm spending most days by myself and, to a point, grieve the community I used to have. To say that I need a lot of quality time is an understatement. And while I feel like I am suffering in this, it also feels like God is using it to make it clear to me that I need to need Him more. Community or not, I need to be content in Him.

Which brings me to my next point: Why giving up isn't enough.

Lent is great if you want to give up a habit for disciplinary purposes but you can't give something up without replacing it with something else, otherwise you are left with a void. If you vow to give up coffee for 40 days so you grow in discipline but don't do anything else to deepen your relationship with God, then what good does it do to give up your coffee? If I give up Instagram but don't learn to receive validation from God, then this whole act has no use, because I haven't grown or learned anything.

For myself, Lent is the perfect opportunity to get back into a consistent prayer life, one where I don't use the excuse, which is: "Oh I just talk to God in my head all the time." No. This needs to specific time taken out of the day to spend in solitude with Him. I want Lent to mean something to me and I want to be changed through it. I want to be a completely different person at the end of the 40 days. I want to be more like Jesus.

So, not only am I giving up something, I am also replacing it with a good habit. What are you giving up and what are you going to fill it with?

Sunday 8 February 2015

When Complaining is Counterproductive

If you're friends with me at all and if we talk on a semi-regular basis, you've been hearing me complain a lot over this past week. I genuinely want to, publicly, apologize for this. I know I need tell you this in person as well but this is a start.

Last week I officially had to give up my car and I may as well have gotten rid of all my belongings and moved to a third world country, because that is exactly how I reacted. My life was definitely over, doomed to the ways of public transportation; a lifestyle I had only briefly explored in my first year of college when I was too poor to keep up car insurance payments. As that year came to a close and I was able to embrace my dear vehicle again, I swore that I would never sink this low again. I would never leave Morgan's side again and vowed to the people around me that I would be driving this car to its bitter end. Little did I know that his end would come sooner than expected and I was thrown into a world unknown. A world where buses don't care if you have somewhere to go at 10pm or that you want to keep your commute to less than two hours. I'm being melodramatic again but my point is: I felt lost. And stuck. And just generally crappy, because now I couldn't rely on a car to get me to wherever the heck I wanted and that scared me. Especially my work commute starting in March when things are only going to become more difficult for me.

Today I sat in church and heard my pastor talk about the defining factors of living like Jesus, namely the Fruit of the Spirit. Love, joy, peace, etc. Do those things define your life? Because if they don't, you're not fully growing into the character of Christ. It's easy to feel like we possess love when we only hang around people that show mutual love. It's also very easy to think that you're a joyful person when nothing tragic has happened in your life. Only when we encounter circumstances in life that counter the Fruit of the Spirit, will we actually have a chance to develop that fruit.

Only by being around people you don't love, will you grow in love. 
Only by experiencing sadness, will you grow in joy. 
Only by experiencing conflict, will you grow in peace. 
Only by having your buttons pushed, will you grow in patience. 
Only by experiencing hostility and selfishness, will you grow in kindness. 
Only by experiencing corruption, will you grow in goodness. 
Only by being let down, will you grow in faithfulness. 

Needless to say I got convicted regarding my constant complaining about how hard my life is at the moment. This isn't how I'm going to grow. As I am focusing on the things I don't have and I think I need, I was essentially saying that Jesus wasn't enough for me. Thank God that He keeps reminding me of the fact that He is enough. There's nothing else I need.

Nothing else will satisfy my soul. Only Jesus.


Monday 12 January 2015

This Fragile Life

I have never known loss to this extent until now. Sure, I've grieved situations and relationships in the past and those bring with them their own pain but losing someone to the inescapable reality of our mortality is a completely different feeling. To know that you won't get to see the person's smile on their face anymore, that you won't get to hear their stories, that they have told oh-so many times before, anymore is... overwhelming. On one hand it's "better" to have already anticipated the person's passing rather than having them go suddenly but when the case is a slow deterioration of the mind, to the point where they are unable to communicate in the end is unbearable. In my last conversation, I had a feeling that this may have been it. That I wouldn't ever get to have a conversation again. At the same time, part of me was holding on to the hope that I would, maybe, get to see his face again, asking him to repeat all the stories he told me as a kid. Back then I would be begging, in my mind, for him to stop because I had heard it all before. Now these stories are escaping my memory and that scares me. It scares me how fragile our memories and our lives really are. And there is no escaping from it.

--

I remember how I would visit my grandparents every once in a while as a kid. My favourite thing to do was to go rollerblading with my Oma down their street, up a little hill, and then along endless amounts of farmland, all the way to the forest. I would race ahead, come back, circle her, and every once in a while we would stop and just watch the cows go about their day.
In the mornings my Opa would walk to a farm to get fresh milk from the farmer. I loved coming with him. I can still clearly remember the road we would walk down, filled with beautiful wild flowers to the left and endless amounts of forest to the right. On the ground? Mostly cow dung but hey, you take the bad with the good. When we finally got to the farmer I would run towards the calfs while he fetched the milk. I never had much of a desire to live on a farm (city girl at heart), but every once in a while it was simply magical watching and petting little calfs, all the while the German Shepard stood guard and barked.
This was more than a decade ago and I would give anything to have one more of those days to truly treasure it.

--

Five years ago I took a short flight with my grandparents and to be completely honest, it's frustrating enough navigating through a massive airport by yourself, never mind having two elderly people in tow who don't speak a lick of English. As I look back, however these things become less of an inconvenience and more of time spent together that I should have cherished right then and there. But we never do, because we don't think about the fact that any minute and every moment we spend with people could very well be our last. I'm not one for creating paranoia and being constantly scared of what happens to people when we're not with them but at the same time, I think it would do us all some good to appreciate the time we spend with people more.

--

Right now I'm resting in the assurance of God's sovereignty over all. Rather than asking Him why he took him away, I want to thank him for allowing me to have a relationship with such an amazing man of God.


Tuesday 6 January 2015

23 → 24

Sometimes I like to think that I'm a writer. Thoughts run through my mind constantly and writing them out is a way for me to process them. I simply cannot process my thoughts, feelings, and emotions without either talking them out with someone or writing them down. Sometimes I like to think that I'm a writer. Then I realize how terrible my form is, how awful my sentence structures are, and how badly I articulate my words. Still, I enjoy writing. It doesn't have to be for everyone. Most of the time, it's just for myself and that's okay.

It's now a day before my 24th birthday and I am sitting in my suite, staring at the coffee table where I put down my Starbucks coffee, my boots thrown on the ground by the door, a couple of dishes in the sink that need to be washed, and listening to José González' Stay Alive. I'm home.

Sometimes there's things a man cannot know
Gears won't turn and and the leaves won't grow 
There's not place to run and no gasoline 
Engine won't run 
And the train won't leave

I will stay with you tonight
Hold you close 'til the morning light
In the morning watch a new day rise 
We'll do whatever just to stay alive 

Wait... I'm home? Yeah, I'm home. I actually have my own home. For years and years I didn't have a physical home that I could call my own. I reverted to calling people my home. Wherever I was loved, that was home to me. But this feeling of actually being able to come home after a day of work or social outings and knowing that this is my space is very unusual for me. This is a new place to make memories in. Good or bad. I welcome them both. 

I like to think of 22 being the worst year of my life and 23 the best. My life changed drastically from 21 to 22 and then again (for the better) from 22 to 23. 
22 was the year I lost all will to live. It got so bad that I had to seek counseling in order to even function throughout the day. By the grace of God and through the means of therapy I was able to break away from my past and all the pain I had gone through. 
Then 23 happened. I became a healthy and stable person. Relationships were reconciled. Friendships were born. Adventures were had. College was finished. An awesome job was scored. I'm finishing up a huge chapter of my life today and my trust in God has strengthened immensely.

I could probably write pages and pages about the things I have learned, not only throughout this past year but throughout my entire life. I could go on and on about the people who have helped me become the person I am today. I could fill a book talking about the people that I love. But here's the thing: Whatever I learned, you probably already have or will learn in the future. And the people who have shaped my life? You already know who you are. But I'm not just thanking people and situations that have made my life easy and comfortable and loving. I'm thanking people and situations that have made life difficult for me. You know why? Because no matter how difficult life got, God pulled me through and changed me through it. I am grateful for the difficult times. They have made me more resilient. 

Whether 24 is filled with opportunities, hard life lessons, growing pains, adventures, love, or all of them... I welcome it. 

1 year-old me full of hope for the future. Either that or just gassy and/or hungry. I always make puppy dog eyes when I'm hungry.