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?

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.

A Funny Lesson in Obedience

No one has ever become poor by giving. 

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.

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.

Authenticity in Suffering

Think back to when you were a child. What was your favourite game to play with others? Was it tag? Or a team sport? Maybe you were the board game enthusiast (which is cool -- board games rock). Personally I was always a big fan of hide-and-go-seek. I crushed this game, every time. I was a master or hiding places and disguises; always the last one to be found - if I was found at all. Every nook, niche, and spot immediately jumped out at me and I was set. There have been instances where I would fall asleep in my spot because the others weren't able to find me. My point being: I loved to hide.
But I wouldn't just hide in games. I would hide so many things in my life from others, covering it up however well I could. Truths about me and how I really felt about things never got exposed. I went through most of my childhood feeling misunderstood, neglected, and abandoned due to the fact that no one actually knew what I was thinking and feeling. Something in me changed though and as I began to grow into the person I am today, I fell in love with opening up. I grew tired of putting on a mask and not showing people what was really inside me. Part of me had always been afraid of showing people the real 'Jess' because I thought they would leave me once they knew. I thought no one wanted to know what I really think, believe, and feel.
As post-high school time went on and I was transitioning into the adulthood/college period people seemed to latch onto me. To this day I do not believe that I have amazing things to offer to people. I lack both the resources and skills that would make me a "useful" friend. What I do have to offer, however is authenticity.

I was talking to a friend today and we were discussing the importance of authenticity in our lives, especially for those who claim to be a part of the body of Christ. I'm sure that many books and articles have been written about this subject but I wanted to approach this from where I am coming from.
Many of you are hiding. You don't let the world see the real you. Some of you even hide a lot from those closest to you. It saddens me when people think they have to hide behind an array of masks, pride, jokes, apparent competence, and a belief that they have to have it together at all times. Maybe you feel as though people won't respect or like you as much if you just started opening up and leave that fake smile behind. And perhaps that might be true in some cases. The thing is though that I (and most others) respect a person so much more when they are being vulnerable with me. I'm not talking about people who do not understand the concept of boundaries or persistent complainers but those who are truly authentic and vulnerable with me. I have friends who I have never seen cry and that is perfectly okay. I would never expect anyone to burst out in tears in front of me in order to show their vulnerability. I do know people though that had put up a front for the longest time until they finally broke and I saw them shed tears. You know what I thought of in that moment? I didn't think they were weak or incompetent. My respect for them increased by so much. I cannot stand the fact that tears have been deemed an exclusively feminine trait by our culture. Men are not given the emotional right to appear vulnerable for fear of feeling too exposed and weak.

In reality, authenticity and vulnerability is the very thing that connects us all. How are you going to relate to others in their suffering when you can't admit that you're suffering as well? Suffering is something that every single human being that has ever lived and that will ever live goes through. We all experience it. Why do we often pretend like we don't? What do we gain by telling people that everything is great when, in reality, everything inside of us wants to break down?

I think it would be a great testimony as Christians if we were to turn the tables on the issue of suffering and vulnerability. Think of how many people you could potentially help if you were to actually talk about what is really going on in your head. When was the last time you asked someone if you could talk to them about what you are going through? When was the last time you genuinely asked someone personal if they could pray with you over a situation? When was the last time you actually opened up to someone?
Don't think that you can make it on your own. If you believe that you can fly through this life emotionally solo, you are in for a very rude awakening. We have been given a community of believers, the church, for a reason. Yes, we are all imperfect and flawed but that's kind of the point, isn't it? We all have things we want to hide from others. We all think that people won't love and respect us as much if we were to truly open up to them, but the reality is that that is a lie. Most will give you even more love and respect if they could only see you sharing in their suffering.

"We can ignore even pleasure. But pain insists upon being attended to. God whispers to us in our pleasure, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world... No doubt pain as God's megaphone is a terrible instrument; it may lead to final and unrepented rebellion. But it gives the only opportunity the bad man can have for amendment. It removes the veil; it plants the flag for truth within the fortress of the rebel soul."
C.S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain

Give Me My Daily Bread and My Daily Death

"God is great, so we don't have to be in control. God is glorious, so we don't have to fear others. God is good so we don't have to look elsewhere. God is gracious, so we don't have to prove ourselves."

The four absolutes still ring with truth, as clear as I first heard them. When I sat in church yesterday and listened to the message, I begged God to show me what it means to clearly live them out. I want to be completely transparent and note that I have been struggling heavily with disbelief lately. There are moments and days when God either doesn't seem real or an idea too good to be true. What are the chances that there is a good God who created this earth and freely gave up his son to atone for our sins so that we would have the hope of spending eternity in his glory? It just seemed like too optimistic of a plan. What did people mean when they said I don't even have to do anything except to rely on his grace to pull me into freedom? How could I possibly be sure of my salvation if this entire philosophy relied on faith and faith alone? My soul became restless, filled with fear of the unknown. Conveniently, I spent the last few months listening to Village Church's Great Debate series, where we explored different philosophies and worldviews. It gave me some intellectual insurance by walking through these views and philosophically taking them apart and seeing why they couldn't possibly be the truth. 

Disbelief causes fear of the unknown. I am in a stage of life where nothing is predictable. Of course, no matter what stage of life you are in, it is never predictable, however I am feeling this even more so with finishing up my college degree and finding a place to live. As I listened to the attributes of God being explained yesterday morning I wanted God to truly show his face to me by helping me live these views out. I knew that, at that moment, I challenged God. When you ask God to show you something or to help you overcome a certain area of your life, do not take it lightly. Be prepared for him to wreck you completely so that, in the end, you have nothing left to rely on but him. 

Yesterday morning I was under the impression that a certain area of my life had worked out for sure and was secured. I was excited and couldn't wait for that time to begin. When I asked God to show me what it means to trust him, I had no idea what he would do. I came home to a missed call and a voicemail on my phone. Listening to the message made my heart drop because in that second, just like that, my plan fell to pieces. Something that I was so sure of simply vanished into thin air, leaving me to decide what my attitude was going to be towards it. Was I going to get bitter and complain? Or would I pick up my heart and hand all of my expectations to God instead of keeping them inside my own hands? I decided that fear wasn't worth the feeling of control over my own life. I would rather put my faith in the one who holds this world and everything in it. 

Strangely, that situation and my changed attitude towards it erased much of my held disbelief in God's sovereignty and his existence in general. It seemed like I had the thing I wanted, it was taken away, and my faith was strengthened. This is grace. This is love. And this is the faith that I cling to. I want to die to my own desires, my own control, and my own need to fix things every single day. When Jesus teaches us to pray, he says to ask God to give us our daily bread. Not our weekly bread. Not our monthly bread. Not our yearly bread. Our faith relies on a day-to-day system where we deny ourselves each day and also trust God to provide for us that very day. 

Take My Heart - I'll Be Okay

Vulnerability is a tough concept to master. True vulnerability lays it all out while also being confident about the facts we are presenting about ourselves. In order to do this we must develop a thick skin and a soft heart. But how do we do this? It's a cruel trick, because when our hearts start becoming soft, so does our skin. All this leads to is our compassion and kindness coming back to bite us because we cannot differentiate between kindness and being taken advantage of. If we do, however decide to let our skin harden, often times our hearts suffer and become like stone. We become closed off.
All my life I have been told to develop a thick skin. It was for my own protection and safety. I have found this to be an extremely difficult concept, mainly due to the fact that my soft heart will not let my skin harden. I often become defensive and let others take advantage of myself. This creates a victim mentality, which creates bitterness and in turn hardens my heart. And so it seems like the only time my skin actually begins to harden, it does so at the expense of my heart.
How do we find the balance of possessing thick skin and a soft heart? Unfortunately I have not found this yet. I tend to drift towards softening every aspect of my existence, which means that I feel easily attacked.

Vulnerability does not equal weakness. Vulnerability speaks of a strength that few of us bother exploring because it is painful. Vulnerability says "Take my heart and explore. I trust that you will not damage it. But even if you do, I will be okay."

I will never stop asking God to show me the concept of true vulnerability, because it gives me life.

Never Changing

In my bed I am safe. The purple blanket I have owned for over five years provides comfort and familiarity. Amidst this life of ever-changing circumstances and situations, it's nice to know that some things remain constant. Never-changing. Trustworthy.
I cannot count the number of times my life has taken a dramatic turn into the opposite direction within a matter of minutes. Most of the time, these have been negative circumstances. Moments of utter defeat. Moments where life seems to just have shattered on the ground before me, leaving parts of me in shambles.

Disappointment. Disconnect. Disillusionment. Distractions. Distance.

You're pushing down on my shoulders
And emptying my lungs
An in a moment I'm older
In a moment, you've won
And you escape me
Like it's nothing
Like words I never should have said
And the stress comes to the surface
But all of the heroes are dead

Too often I find myself gasping for air in this life. I need to feel alive. When you are surrounded by brokenness, it is easy to believe that you are dead inside. Years of depression have taught me that. It is a slow drowning of your mind. You are surrounded by water. Oxygen is becoming scarce.

At some point I remembered that I am not dead yet. I needed air in my lungs. I was tired of life pushing down on them while I did nothing and just watched. When circumstances change, when the water begins to rise, and when disillusionment sets it, I see the constant. Instead of distractions, I receive focus. Instead of distance and disconnect, I get closeness. Instead of guilt, I get God.

He is my never-changing One.

Two Sides of the Coin

Loneliness is real. Why do you think porn is so profitable? It leeches onto those that are lonely inside. It's also why Netflix and pizza places are so popular. No? Maybe that's just me...
Point being is that whoever tells you loneliness is not real or not painful or easily fixed with material things is a dirty, dirty liar and is probably trying to sell you something.

The dilemma I've had to confront more and more lately is choosing a particular side when it comes to relationships. Those sides being: either accepting that there is no one out there "for me" or holding on to hope that, maybe someday, I'll find someone to share this life with on a day-to-day basis. I wrestled through this with my mentor, exploring each side in depth.

One side of the coin: Acceptance
I can look at my life the way it is right now, realize that I'm okay, and move on. I can recognize that I do not, in fact, need someone to fulfill certain needs and desires because sacrificial living is necessary. Everyone sacrifices something different, right? In my case it might just be my "right" to be in a healthy relationship. Quotation marks are used because too often we find ourselves being entitled to certain things in this life like relationships. One of the hardest lessons I had to learn that, just because you desire something, does not mean you are automatically entitled to it. I desire lots of different relationships (both romantic and non-romantic ones), but does that mean I'm ever going to get them? No. See, this is tricky because we were created for the purpose of relationship and community, so knowing that some will not ever get this doesn't seem fair. But then again, it also doesn't seem fair that a 10 year old girl is sold into slavery. It doesn't seem fair that a guy in his twenties is diagnosed with cancer and dies. It doesn't seem fair that people suffer. Period. Putting life into the right perspective can get you a lot of insight and challenge long-held beliefs you held on to. Technically I don't deserve anything, yet I have been blessed immensely by God's grace that is evident in my life, daily. Fabienne Harford, in her article entitled 'Sex and the Single Woman', points out that "Today, my body wants something tangible and physical it was designed to have. And today, I don't get to have that thing. Of course my body grumbles, and as it does, I get to testify that in the midst of my hunger, God is trustworthy. I'm learning to hunger for something better." Well put, Fabienne.

Other side of the coin: Hope
I'm young, right? Most would say so. My grandma would probably say I'm long overdue for marriage, seeing as ideally I'd have married when I was 22 years old and would already be starting to have miniature humans running around. Actually, just the fact that I call them miniature humans is evidence enough that I should go nowhere near the possibility of having kids right now.
MOVING ON.
I've been single for three years now. Sometimes I still can't wrap my mind around the fact that it's been three years. I dated for two. This means I started dating five years ago. Silly me. What did 18 (almost 19) year old Jess know about dating? Squat. There are days where I hold on to hope and the fact that I'm still in my early/mid twenties. I've also gotten tons of encouragement from my numerous girlfriends (bless their hearts) such as: "you're still young", "relationships/marriage is harder than you think", "you're totes beautiful/gorgeous/pretty and any guy would be lucky to have you", and "yeah, you're opinionated but the right guy will love you for it". Sometimes it's hard not seeing those statements and encouragements as band-aid solutions, as if the instant they are spoken over me, that automatically makes them true. I wrestle with two types of insecurities. One being physical insecurity, not believing I am "beautiful enough" (whatever that means) and the other one being personality/character insecurity. It is no secret amongst those who know me that I have some pretty strong opinions and values. While they're usually accepted and tolerated by those who call me "friend", these opinions are not often seen as making me "datable". "Sure, I can be your friend and tolerate your strong views but date you? lol!" Still, I'm hoping. Hoping that maybe somewhere out there someone exists who might possibly travel Northern Europe with me while we love Jesus together, talk about feminism, and let God change this world through us. Someone who is okay with being with someone who struggles with defensiveness, who doesn't back down from her values, who wears her heart on her sleeve, who is not the most beautiful girl in the world, and who will never not care.

So how do I choose? Maybe a better question would be: Do I have to choose? Is there any possibility that those two sides of the coin might work together? Can I find acceptance in who I am right now and be content, yet hold on to the hope of a possible, future relationship? That's exactly what I'm trying to find out. I believe there is a way, I just have to find it. And if there is one thing I'm good at, it's being persistent.

On Jealousy, Craving Attention, and Social Media

There are days where jealousy takes over my life. It doesn't help that I see most people's lives through the filter of social media. Stellar pictures, instagrams that would make anyone jealous (and a lot of times that is what they are intended to do), heart-warming life updates, exciting adventures shared through posts and blogs, etc. We are all "guilty" of this. I put "guilty" in quotation marks because I don't think it is inherently wrong or "bad" to do this. That is what social media is for, isn't it? To inform others of what our life is like at the moment. Whether we acquired an amazing job, just got into a relationship/married, are travelling, or are just enjoying this blissful life to the max. We want to share it with the world because we are social beings.
If a tree falls in the woods and no one is around to hear it, does it still make a sound? If something exciting happens in our lives and no one knows about it, is it still exciting?

Unfortunately I've had to ask myself this question many times. Too often I would defend my ever-increasing presence on social media by saying that I have convictions and that these convictions need to be shared, whether anyone is listening or not. Sadly, I have come to the conclusion that hardly anyone listens. The only thing it's gotten me is a weird reputation as: the über-feminist girl with the instagrams and a blog that no one reads.

And because I crave attention even more when it isn't given to me, I observe the environment around me, see through my distorted glasses, and it always seems like other people's lives are better than mine.

I've contemplated deactivating my facebook account entirely. I mean, what a sad life are we living if we cannot stay away from it? How much have we been conditioning ourselves to depend on this form of social media for self-validation? Too much, if you ask me.
Knowing my knack for diving into extreme ideas and never following through, I almost immediately realized that I probably wouldn't be able to stay away from it completely. I am going to be limiting my time spent on it and hopefully get it through this thick skull of mine that, at least on social media, no one cares what I have to say. And even if they do, I can still make an impact on this world by interacting with people face to face. I'm pretty sure God will be able to handle the lack of social media and still put me to use.

Maybe I'll blog about what it's like to be staying away from things such as facebook soon. Maybe I won't. We'll see...

The Abundance of Reality in Fiction

I don't quite know how to describe this feeling. It is utterly personal and it seems almost invasive for anyone to see me in a state like this but I feel defenceless. Fragile. Weak even. I just finished reading the Hunger Games series with Mockingjay being the last book. Books, movies, and stories in general have an interesting way of impacting me. I suppose it's "normal" to be transported to the universe in which the story takes place. To have your mind, your emotions, and sometimes what feels like your whole body disintegrate itself and then to have it collect itself again in that alternate universe. After a while you don't even notice sensations like hunger or having to go to the bathroom. These "urges" become of secondary nature and importance. What's more important is that you don't miss a beat in the story. Your own life and its problems begins to fade away. If it's just for a moment, an hour, a day, or even a week. It's not as important as this story. Right here.

See, this could go a million different ways. Some stories impact you more than others. Some are just fleeting, which you welcomed into your life easily but also just as easily let go. Then there are those that resonate with you for much longer. No matter how much you want them to break away, it seems impossible. And it is especially disheartening when the story you just became so engrossed in, is a story of heartache and pain. Immeasurable pain. You grow to love certain characters and while you know that literally anything could happen on the next page (or sometimes even on the same page), you don't want to give into that "reality". They are good. While they may be flawed, they are good in your eyes. They deserve life and love and happiness. And then the unthinkable happens. Tragedy. And for a moment you clasp your hands over your mouth to mute the whimper wanting so desperately to escape from your lips as if you are surrounded by people who are watching your reaction. As soon as you notice that it is of no use and that there is, in fact  no one intensely watching you, the tears begin to fall. And by you, I mean me. I am so easily overcome by grief. Sometimes I think it's because I am weak. Sometimes I think it's because I possess a great deal of empathy. I suppose it can be both. I don't even necessarily understand the point of why I am writing this except for trying to make sense of this myself.

Trying to make sense of why I react the way I react. Why do I grief something so fictional when I know that it isn't real? But then it hits me. In a way, some distant, distant way it is real. The horror, the pain, the anger, and the tragedy portrayed in stories only comes from our own inspiration and this is almost always drawn from reality. I don't believe that we would have a concept of pain in stories if it weren't for the fact that pain, in this world, is very, very real.

Pain, war, anger, grief, tears, sadness... all these things are far more real than moments of delusional happiness. And this is where I disagree with those who say that fiction books take you away from the real world. I would argue that the opposite is true. Never have I connected so much with the pain in our very real world today than when I connect with it in a book. It brings up anger, disappointment, and frustration at the current situations running rampant all over the place.

I always wondered why people bothered writing painful stories when there is so much pain already in this world. It would be so much easier to escape by reading about wonderful, happy stories that transport us to a paradise of some sort. But this isn't the point. The point of stories isn't so much to take us away from realty but rather to face it. And we all have a reality we would rather not face. If that's the case, I recommend you start reading.

Maybe you're just a piece of lettuce.

There may be seasons in your life where you will feel like you're being tossed about like an ordinary piece of lettuce in a salad. (Yes. Please excuse my awful title and me comparing you to a piece of lettuce. It is late.) You won't know where you belong, where you'll fit in, or what you're supposed to do. Maybe you won't have to endure seasons like that. I was really tempted to write that I hope, for your sake, you won't. But the more I think about it, the more I really hope you'll experience these seasons.

It is hard living in a way where you feel like you don't belong. I've definitely had my fair shares of experiences in this matter. Nothing in my life has been permanent except for a few friendships and most importantly: God's ever-present grace.

Today I was unfortunately let go from my job. It doesn't matter why or how. You know what matters? My reaction to it. After leaving I was visibly upset and as soon as I started my drive home I started ranting in my head. "Ugh. Seriously? When can I finally settle down? Is this just not going to happen for me? God, seriously: I have no place to call my permanent home, I have no boyfriend, and as it turns out, I have no job either. I have NOTHING. NADA." I was clearly frustrated and felt justified in my complaining. Out of nowhere though I hear the following words: "Are you serious right now? You have ME! You have your God. You have my GRACE."

OUCH. I just complained about having nothing when, in fact, I had everything. Homes, boyfriends/girlfriends/husbands/wives, jobs, etc. are not an accurate indicator of how much you have in this life. They are not an indication of a successful life. When am I going to get this through my thick skull? I keep thinking that in order to have a successful life I need to be settled down with a fixed income, and someone to share every day life with. But what if that's just not an option for me? What if my life will revolve around the basic premise of not being able to settle at all? Maybe that's my case, maybe it isn't. Again, that is not of importance. The only thing that matters is that I know for a fact who my life revolves around.

And He has never let me down or broken my trust.

Christian Objectification

You notice her clothes. The way that her dress seems a bit too tight. The way that her legs are exposed and maybe you even see a little bit of cleavage. What's your first instinct?

Wow... no self respect, huh? 

Christians often do the same. This goes out to all the girls and boys. And may I put the emphasis on girls and boys instead of using women and men because frankly no one who behaves this way deserves to be referred to as a mature adult.

You all know that women are increasingly objectified in our time and culture. It's bad enough that this happens in the secular world but I have noticed a behaviour that I would like to name "Christian Objectification" meaning that when we see women who don't dress according to our modesty standards, we may not get the hots for them but we judge them. And guess what. This is still objectification because in that moment, all we see is a body; an object. We don't see the woman herself. We don't see her life, what she is going through, or whether she is a Christian or not. All we notice in that moment is her outside appearance. Do you understand that we are completely aware of you doing this? And here's the shocker: it doesn't make us feel any less dirty than when we are being groped or catcalled by some stranger. It makes us feel like we are still just another body to be judged and not like we are a soul deemed worth loving.

I'm tired of this becoming a new "church trend". We go in under the pretence that we're just doing our Christian duty of upholding each other in our walk with Christ when in reality, more often than not, we are not concerned with the person's soul at that moment but rather with how they offended us by dressing that way. I'd lie if I said I never subjected anyone to this, but that is exactly why I am so aware of this happening all over the place.

Can we all just agree that we're not doing anyone any favours by acting and thinking this way? Don't fool yourself. You're not helping anyone out. You're not concerned for anyone. You're only thinking about yourself.

The next time you look at any girl or woman don't, I repeat, don't objectify her by making quick judgements about her appearance, whether she shares your beliefs or not. Should she pull her dress down a bit? Should she cover up more? I don't know. Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe it's none of your business. Maybe you should still treat her with love and respect.

I don't know. Maybe.

PS: Here is a great piece I read from someone:

"In 1 Timothy 2:9-10, the apostle Paul writes "I also wan the women to dress modestly, with decency and propriety, adorning themselves not with elaborate hairstyles or gold or  pearls or expensive clothes, but with good deeds, appropriate for women who profess to worship God." The Greek word translated "modesty" here is kosmios. Derived from kosmos (the universe), it signifies orderliness, self-control and appropriateness. It appears only twice in the New Testament, and interestingly, its second usage refers specifically to men (1 Timothy 3:2). In fact, nearly all of the Bible's instructions regarding modest clothing refer not to sexuality, but rather materialism (Isaiah 3:16-23, 1 Timothy 2:9-12, 1 Peter 3:3). Writers in both the Old Testament and New Testament express grave concern when the people of God flaunt their wealth by buying expensive clothes and jewelry while many of their neighbours suffered in poverty. (Ironically, I've heard dozens of sermons about keeping my legs and my cleavage out of sight, but not one about ensuring my jewelry was not acquired through unjust or exploitative trade practices -- which would be much more in keeping with biblical teachings on modesty.)
And so biblical modesty isn't about managing the sexual impulses of other people; it's about cultivating humility, propriety and deference within ourselves."

With Every Heartbeat I Have Left I Will Defend Your Every Breath

Many of my tears have seen the light of day. Unfortunately, most of them made their dreaded way down my cheeks because something awful happened. I cry a lot but it's nothing to apologize for. 

I'm not sure if there is an English equivalent for this idiom but in German we say: "Ich bin nah am Wasser gebaut.", which translates to: "I was built close to the water." meaning that the tears just come easier for me. Growing up I saw it as a weakness, often having been told that it was. I connected it to being over-emotional, exaggerating most situations, and not being in control over myself. 

Since then, however I have recognized it as my ever-present tenderness in life. So what if I cry easily? Does that mean that my emotions mean any less? In our culture we tend to glorify stoicism. We want men who are the "big, strong, silent type" and women who should be "more in control of themselves" lest we are thought of as being hysterical. 

Truth is that tears are a sign of our humanity. They serve various purposes and it fascinates me how they can actually differ from each other. They can express emotions such as sadness, joy, frustration, and confusion. They also serve a reflex function, which usually happens when you encounter irritating gasses, chop onions, or get hit in the face. What is truly interesting, however is the fact that the tears that are released because of reflexes consist mostly of water while emotional tears flush out all kinds of toxins. It literally means that your body is taking the bad that's on the inside and forces it out. Crazy benefit, huh? 

Every once in a while I'll reflect on my life in one of those rare, quiet moments we get and become emotional. Thinking back on how terrifying my life was last summer and looking forward to how this summer is looking I can see how God is truly at work. This is one of those instances where tears of joy are invading the spaces under my eyes. Gratefulness can be overwhelming and tear-inducing and I am so glad that it does. I enjoy all the little things that we are able to do to express emotions, whether those are tears, hand gestures, body language, or words. Just think of how amazing it is that you are alive right now. It sounds so cliche but put your hand over your chest right now. Feel that heartbeat. Really feel it. Can you feel it beating? Now let that settle in. Feel the tenderness that's been imprinted on your heart. 

You are strong and yet so fragile. We all are. That's how life is. Resilient and here today yet gone tomorrow. Just like a whisper in the wind. That's why we need to make every one of our heartbeats count, don't you think? Why waste our lives trying to deny ourselves emotions and outlets that can help us grow? We live in a culture that thrives off of hating things and putting down those who show appreciation and excitement for things. Everyone should be allowed to positively be overwhelmed by the things life has to offer. While we need to be careful not to let emotions dictate our decisions, I think it's also safe to say that emotions need to be felt and truly experienced. 

My Own Story - Why I Finally Understand

I talk a lot about social justice, equality issues, feminist issues, and the like. Often I'll state how women are so harassed in this day and age that it's become normalized. To be fully honest with you, except for a very private story that occurred over a period of time when I was younger, I had never really experienced harassment from males, especially not in public. I figured it was because I wasn't really the hottest-looking woman out there and don't really have that much to show off. Over this past year however, I am experiencing this issue more and more. I get called out in the streets (one very nasty example in Seattle back in February) and honked at. And I finally understand, really understand what it feels like to have this happen to you on a daily basis. It feels disgusting. About two years ago I got physically/sexually harassed by an old guy in the streets and while I was walking/rushing away I felt like I needed to take an hour-long shower just to wash this filth away.

I have to admit, you really won't know how a woman feels like unless you've experienced this yourself. To have your own sex targeted, to hear comments about your boobs, your butt, or to be grabbed inappropriately, there's nothing quite like it (in the most negative sense possible). Realizing this also made me realize that maybe the reason so many guys dismiss this problem as something to be brushed off, is because they don't quite know what it feels like to experience this. And I empathize with that. I truly do. I can't blame anyone for not understanding what something feels like.

At the same time I want to challenge anyone and everyone who has never experienced anything like this and who thinks that this is not a big deal to please listen to stories from your moms, sisters, girlfriends, and female friends. I can guarantee you that at least one of them has stories of being sexually harassed or even raped. Statistically, more than half of all Canadian women report incidents of physical or sexual violence since the age of sixteen. http://sacha.ca/fact-sheets/statistics

Please listen to us. I'm asking you to see beyond the veil of jokes, social media normalization of this garbage, or your own biases.

Tonight I went for a run while it was still mostly light outside and ran by a school playground where a bunch of guys were hanging out and smoking. As I ran by I couldn't help but keep looking over my shoulder just to make sure I wasn't being followed. This shouldn't be the case. For a little bit of further reading, I recommend checking out one of my best friend's blog post on this: http://lovedstill.blogspot.ca/2014/05/i-cant-hate-you-because-i-need-you.html

The Dreaded C-Word

Often times I try so hard to foster my creativity that I get lost in the work of creating rather than focusing on the creation itself. Through my eyes, there seems to only be the beauty in process of creating and not in the finished work because I feel a great need for others to enjoy it as much as I do. Since that rarely happens I am left unsatisfied and disappointed, therefore demotivating me from engaging un further attempts at creativity. I long to paint my words as swiftly and unafraid as experienced paint brushes. Rather I pick and choose carefully which words I present.
My struggle is this: That creativity is not a comparison or a competition. I used to think I was the only one who was struggling with this but I'm sure that there are others out there who feel the same.

The very idea of creativity scares me because of the high expectations I hold it to. Nothing I create is ever good enough for my own eyes and ears. The reason for this is the fact that I compare my creative process to that of other people. Whatever I create is automatically worthless because it isn't the very best in this world. Because of this expectation I am set up for disappointment whenever I do decide to create, whether the nature of the work is a written piece, a drawing, a photograph, a little tune, or whatever else my itty, bitty brain can come up with. I am still not quite sure how to combat this struggle other than having to keep reminding myself that creativity is not a comparison or a competition but rather a compilation of my existence, experiences, emotions, and endeavours.

We'll be just fine.

This is about the third blog post I have started today because the other two just didn't seem good enough. They both talked about different subjects but if I write something and feel, even in the slightest, that this doesn't need to be said right now, I'll start over again.

At this very moment I am listening to a new obsession of mine: Sleeping At Last. This particular song is entitled 'West' and he says:

we'll be just fine
we'll be just fine
it's a matter of time
'til our compass stands still,
'til our compass stands still

It reminds me to take every day for what it's worth, which is: a lot. Why? Because every morning that I wake up and hit snooze on my phone, I am reminded that I am breathing. I am reminded that this could very well be my last day on earth so who cares where I'm going to be tomorrow? I have a responsibility to my God to live in such a way that would honour him but I do not have control over this world. This might cause a lot of stress and anxiety in some but it does the exact opposite for me.

In this truth I find peace.
In this truth I find comfort.
In this truth I find hope.

I think that we (and by "we" I am identifying myself as a young adult) we are so pressured into thinking that we have to have our lives figured out. We have to have a career plan, a savings plan, and a schedule that already looks at the year ahead. What if we could let go of all that? What if we realized that no one else actually has life figured out? Because with each milestone we accomplish, we are not, in fact, closer to figuring out this silly thing called life. We just took one step deeper into this mess. We are so focused on our own feet in the mud though that we forget to look around, really look around, and see that everyone else is stuck in this mess as well. Just because they are further ahead, doesn't mean they're less in the dirt.

Instead of focusing so much on trying to figure out what to do with tomorrow, make sure you don't waste today. I have seen people who always chase the next big milestone be it a job, a relationship, a promotion, a house, or a family and they don't cherish the milestones they have already accomplished.

Remember: we'll be just fine. It's just a matter of time 'til our compass stands still.

and sometimes our compass breaks
and our steady true north fades
we'll be just fine

Dear PLBC

To be completely honest with you, I don't know where to start exactly.
...
This past weekend has been nothing but laughter, love, friendships, and good times. It began with Friday night where our Ride To Nowhere took place. Saturday we spent most of the day either packing or preparing for the Spring Banquet. That turned out to be so much fun. The photo booth was a total success and I'm in love with how the pictures turned out. My wallet will most likely suffer because I intend on printing lots of them. Sunday started off with a fantastic message at Village Church (as always). In the evening we had our graduation ceremony. I am so incredibly proud of all the grads. The day ended perfectly when 27 of us showed up at Boston Pizza. I don't think I've ever enjoyed myself so much with this big of a group. Laughs all around.
Today consisted mostly of packing and spending some quality time with friends at the pier down at White Rock Beach and then getting delicious Indian food.

While this weekend has been one of the best in my life so far, it also came to an abrupt end. Today was goodbye-day. Right now I am unbelievably exhausted so it's hard for me to actually articulate my thoughts. I can't overstate how thankful I am for my PLBC family. I'm finishing up my third year, with one semester shy of my degree. PLBC isn't just a school. It's a community that will wreck you.

You heard me. The community here has wrecked me. And I mean this in the most positive sense. Before I came to PLBC, I had been living on my own for a while and I was fine. I was alright going to work and coming home to an empty place. I was ok being on my own. But after spending some time at PLBC it quickly became apparent that, once you get a taste of this community, it isn't easily left behind. I have seen way too many crying faces this weekend to prove this. PLBC has blessed me with seasonal friendships and lifelong friendships. I am equally grateful for both. I think a true sign of maturity is recognizing and coming to terms with the fact that some people are only in your life for a season. We all so desperately cling to the idea of everyone staying in our lives forever but unfortunately this is not a reality. Some people are meant to be in your life for a few months, a few years, or even longer but maybe not forever. You will definitely have people you'll be able to call up when you're old and you can spend time with them. But you won't be able to do this with everyone. And this is why I believe that coming to terms with this is a sign of true maturity. Mind you, while I am able to recognize this, I don't think I can fully come to terms with is just yet. I might just be in denial about this when it comes to certain friendships.

But hey! Life goes on, right? I want to dedicate this post to all my PLBC people. Whether we are seasonal friends, lifelong friends, inbetween, or we don't even know yet, know that I love and appreciate you. You make this school! You are a part of it. Even if you've graduated or are done, you will never not be a part of the PLBC community. Don't forget that! It's a home you can come back to. We literally have people all over the world that have come out of PLBC, serving God in their own unique way and this makes me incredibly happy.

Staff, oh my goodness. This school wouldn't run without you. Duh', I know. But seriously. You are probably more loved and appreciated than you can fathom. You're not just teachers, administrators, and workers. You are mentors and role models and the impact you have on the students is incredible. We look up to you. We truly do.

I am ecstatic to be coming back for another term in the fall. It'll be my last. Unless anyone wants to pay for more school of course. In that case, I'll send you my banking information if you so desire. ;)
But seriously: You all better take care of yourselves. Don't forget where you came from. Don't forget who holds you. Don't forget who you're serving. Don't forget your home. Because I sure won't.

All the love. <3

Fears.

I have a love-hate relationship with... relationships. Any kind, really. I love growing into a relationship, giving it all I have, and really committing. But all too often, some relationships come to an awkward place. They either end all-together or they change in a way that no one anticipated and make you uncomfortable. The person you've grown to love as a friend, suddenly changed. And you wish they didn't.

I've never been good on my own. When I'm alone too much, it feels like a dark abyss is swallowing me. Days become dark and drag out into weeks. I'm not happy with any of my life decisions. It was especially bad last summer because I realized how much Bible college "made" me dependent on a community. Then as the end of the year approached I found myself alone. Sure I still had friends around me but not in the same way as actually living in a community. I am too much of an extrovert to be fine with living on my own. If I'm being completely honest, I am scared right now. This semester is coming to an end and I constantly have to remind myself to take it one day at a time but often, that isn't enough. I am longing for something that can't be fulfilled. It's a damn scary world out there and I just don't know if I'm ready to take it on. All too often I'll give off that cocky image of "Psh, what scary world? I'm independent and I like it. I don't have to rely on anyone."

But truth be told, sometimes I still feel like a fearful five year-old inside who needs someone to take care of her.