Disappointed Expectations written 10/2013 but still struggle with disappointing situations.
I was lying in bed this morning and started to process and reflect. I took yesterday off from work to catch up on all the things I needed to do and usually have a difficult time getting complete due to life, which consists of work and school. I managed to cross a few things off my list but not nearly as much I had wanted. I felt a cool breeze of disappointment sweep over me. I told the Lord how Laziness and I have become good friends lately, a dysfunctional friendship because I don’t get a lot done. I thought of Romans 7:15 “I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do.” I often make mental lists of all the things I want or need to do yet I end up doing things that don’t matter, things that to eat up my minutes like how Ms. Pac-Man chomps on lil white dots. As a wave of disappointment settled in, I wondered if God feels disappointed? God is all knowing, is everywhere and nothing shocks him, is it possible to truly disappoint him? In the realms of love, is there a difference between disappointment and expectation? 1 Corinthians 13 teaches that love hopes all things, so when hope is present, is it possible to disappoint? isn’t hoping always looking up and only disappointment is looking down due to the unforeseen circumstances. God is all expecting so can he be disappointed in me if nothing I do actually shocks him. If God sets an expectation for me and he loves me, instead of disappointment, does he feel only hope and patience. In that regard, if God feels that way with me, is it possible that I could offer myself the same amount of grace? what if disappointment is merely a commissioned third-party emotion hired and paid by the enemy?
If I tossed out disappointment, looked straight to my expectation, would my goals be easier to reach without anything weighting me down. This week I was bummed due to a disappointing situation. I had my expectation dial set a certain way so when reality switched it around, I felt disappointed. After re-evaluating the situation, I wondered if the disappointment was real or maybe my expectations were falsely set. So many times, months or years of feeling disappointed in something or someone and what waste. I should have kicked disappointment to the curb and remained hopeful and consistent, however I allowed disappointment to move in and he doesn’t even pay rent and he never turns off the lights. Instead of asking why after a disappointing situation, perhaps I should be praying for Godly expectations. The waters will rise, people will not always be nice and or fair but why feel disappointed? I have to remind myself to remain hopeful and patient.
With regards to my own personal laziness and feeling a bit defeated, I remembered my favorite sermon. I have a sermon on my old Ipod from 2007 and when I’m feeling sluggish, I plug it up and listen. Part of the lesson is, “Its not God’s best and its not your best and its your laziness and your inability to stay focused at the task at hand because when things get hard you wanna quit” and he continues to say how we need to let faith and patience have her perfect work. Then the sermon reminded me what a champion is “a champion is built at the point of conflict, a champion is built when people are talking about you and you still do what you know to do. A champion is built when you stand on God’s word with your head held high. A champion is not built when its easy to quit when it gets hard. You gotta ask yourself, are you gonna fly with the eagles or hang out with the buzzards because buzzards hang around dead things.”
My new expectation is to stop feeling disappointment when I fail or when my expectations don’t turn out the way I think they should. I need to be intentional to set my dial to God’s expectations. I need to un-employ laziness and disappointment and hire on hope and patience, allowing them to have their perfect work.
“Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you.” James 1:4-5
Sunday, May 17, 2015
Friday, May 15, 2015
Welcome Home...sorry about the sign.
As I waited way early in the Hangar, I realized that I'm the only one waiting without homemade signage, welcoming home my solider. I felt bad. I went to the BX before picking him up, I went to waste time bc I was there so early. Did I buy a poster board? Nope...maybe a few markers? Nope...I selfishly bought new sunglasses (see above) and car freshener, oh yea...and bottled water. I felt bad that I sat solo, nothing artistic representing. Then I noticed other wives in heels and dresses. I'm sorry but it's cold outside. I just wanna pickup my hubby and go home, it's not date night. Well...I don't dress up in heels and a dress even on date night bc it's night. Night should be a time for jeans and old lady sweater, why? Bc it's cold. Plus, I see all those other women wishing they had pockets and I show off with my many pockets and Kleenex. Who is the sexy one ladies? It's me bc I come warm and prepared.
Anywho, with my least sexy award and runner up to least thoughtfulness, I picked up Tomas! Welcome Home! I'm letting you sleep as much as you want this weekend but let's wrap up this jet lag bc we gots stuff to do. Well not really but I missed you. I waited three months to be able to actually talk to you with no dropped calls plus I think the kids are tired of me.
Thursday, May 14, 2015
Home Coming and the Epiphany...
After four months of water heater issues, car issues and new job issues, he is finally coming home. I sit here thinking about whether or not I should have made a banner that reads something clever. I am now wondering if I should have got more balloons or whatever else everyone else does for home comings. The truth is, I'm not a big fan of the grand gesture. I think its sweet to celebrate but the glitter and paint isn't really my thing, unless I am doing crafts, then I can give it away as a present and let someone else figure out what to do with it. The truth is, I just want him home so we can begin the next adventure.
The last few months hasn't been easy. I feel ridiculous complaining since the headlines flash true hardships but for me, in my own little fish bowl, the water is murky. I swim around in my own thoughts and I can't seem to escape. Now I know what it must feel like to be a goldfish, you are home, not much you can do since you are only a fish but ugh, same ole water, same ole tank and even the multi colored rocks all look the same. What was it about my surrounding that is no longer inspiring?
I was sitting at work today, a typical day. Actually, work has been going well. I am starting to feel more comfortable and getting to know a few of our frequent shoppers (they really aren't shoppers but for a lack of a better reference) so yea...things have been going oh-kay! However, there has been lingering and pestering thoughts lately. I have it in my head to work for a certain organization. Its been on my mental horizon for a few years now. I go online and look at jobs and contemplate applying but then I brush off my interest, telling myself that I am fine where I am at. I build up what my current position is, make up potential opportunities and settle myself down. A few weeks pass, maybe even a month and the thought nags me again. Ugh, why can't I ever be satisfied with where I am at?
However, today I hit my peak. Whatever happened, I had to face it. I've been with the same organization for close to thirteen years and today I felt God telling me, urging me and whispering to me that its done. This chapter in my life is complete, its time to move on. It is difficult to move on when nothing is wrong. I do know that a few items of change will be soon haunting me at my current position and for me, I rather shut the chapter now than to grow bitter but that's just a fingerprint on my emotions.
I got off work an hour early which was awesome because I felt the tears building up all day. I got to my car, with the switch of the ignition, the tears begun to flow. I plug in my music and drove around for a few hours, praying aloud. I had confession in my lil gray Jetta. I talked to God because he called shot gun. I rambled on all the things that has been so heavy on my heart, on my mind. I cried about the past four months, all the ways I wish I was stronger, better, smarter. I prayed about all my short comings and potential successes. I also asked for his guidance, for his continued grace and if its truly time to move on, open the door and please, don't let it be a trap door. Thinking about moving on, I started to reminisce what CU has meant to me. I looked back and I went to the beginning.
I was 22 years old when my aunt drove me to my interview with Lora, manager of the Office of Cash Management. It was a temporary position which meant that if they liked you, it could be permanent. I felt as if I was being setup on a blind date. Lora brought me on and the two people who had already worked there were Kenny and Sega. Sega was my age and she had been in the US for a few years, her home was Africa. She was beautiful and we quickly became friends. Time had passed, she was a newlywed and after six months of marriage, she found out she was pregnant. She was so excited and couldn't wait to be a mommy, her and her hubby were very sweet about the whole idea of becoming parents. Shortly after, I was also pregnant but with less the perfect circumstances. I would be alone for my pregnancy but she was very supportive, in fact, the entire department was. We shared our pregnancies together and her daughter was born three months prior to my daughter.
A year passed and she found out she was pregnant again! it was a Wednesday when she told me, I hugged her but she was scared having a baby so close to her last pregnancy. We all assured her it would be fine, she was young and healthy. Friday morning Lora came out of the back with a shocked look that flashed across her face, Sega's husband had been killed in a car accident. We quickly learned, we weren't just co-workers, we were family.
The day of the funeral was cold and bitter. The snow had no mercy on our drives or on our emotions. It was as frozen outside as we all felt on the inside. I hugged Sega while she sobbed and I had no words. I only wanted her to see my face, to know that I was there for her. Nine months later, she had a boy, she named him after her husband. Shortly after his birth, she went back home to Africa, she needed her family.
I drove around today, thinking of the past and felt sad yet brave. If a tender heart from Africa can move here and face such a tragic loss and find the courage to go home, maybe I can too. If God opens the door for me, why would I be scared to go pass its threshold. I can't settle for mediocre, for good enough for right now.....when is it time to step out in faith? I started off immature and weak but I met some amazing people along the way, people that outshine the sun...so this next chapter should be a walk in the park. How can I let go and who do I thank before I leave?
I anxiously wait for Tommy to arrive so we can move!
The last few months hasn't been easy. I feel ridiculous complaining since the headlines flash true hardships but for me, in my own little fish bowl, the water is murky. I swim around in my own thoughts and I can't seem to escape. Now I know what it must feel like to be a goldfish, you are home, not much you can do since you are only a fish but ugh, same ole water, same ole tank and even the multi colored rocks all look the same. What was it about my surrounding that is no longer inspiring?
I was sitting at work today, a typical day. Actually, work has been going well. I am starting to feel more comfortable and getting to know a few of our frequent shoppers (they really aren't shoppers but for a lack of a better reference) so yea...things have been going oh-kay! However, there has been lingering and pestering thoughts lately. I have it in my head to work for a certain organization. Its been on my mental horizon for a few years now. I go online and look at jobs and contemplate applying but then I brush off my interest, telling myself that I am fine where I am at. I build up what my current position is, make up potential opportunities and settle myself down. A few weeks pass, maybe even a month and the thought nags me again. Ugh, why can't I ever be satisfied with where I am at?
However, today I hit my peak. Whatever happened, I had to face it. I've been with the same organization for close to thirteen years and today I felt God telling me, urging me and whispering to me that its done. This chapter in my life is complete, its time to move on. It is difficult to move on when nothing is wrong. I do know that a few items of change will be soon haunting me at my current position and for me, I rather shut the chapter now than to grow bitter but that's just a fingerprint on my emotions.
I got off work an hour early which was awesome because I felt the tears building up all day. I got to my car, with the switch of the ignition, the tears begun to flow. I plug in my music and drove around for a few hours, praying aloud. I had confession in my lil gray Jetta. I talked to God because he called shot gun. I rambled on all the things that has been so heavy on my heart, on my mind. I cried about the past four months, all the ways I wish I was stronger, better, smarter. I prayed about all my short comings and potential successes. I also asked for his guidance, for his continued grace and if its truly time to move on, open the door and please, don't let it be a trap door. Thinking about moving on, I started to reminisce what CU has meant to me. I looked back and I went to the beginning.
I was 22 years old when my aunt drove me to my interview with Lora, manager of the Office of Cash Management. It was a temporary position which meant that if they liked you, it could be permanent. I felt as if I was being setup on a blind date. Lora brought me on and the two people who had already worked there were Kenny and Sega. Sega was my age and she had been in the US for a few years, her home was Africa. She was beautiful and we quickly became friends. Time had passed, she was a newlywed and after six months of marriage, she found out she was pregnant. She was so excited and couldn't wait to be a mommy, her and her hubby were very sweet about the whole idea of becoming parents. Shortly after, I was also pregnant but with less the perfect circumstances. I would be alone for my pregnancy but she was very supportive, in fact, the entire department was. We shared our pregnancies together and her daughter was born three months prior to my daughter.
A year passed and she found out she was pregnant again! it was a Wednesday when she told me, I hugged her but she was scared having a baby so close to her last pregnancy. We all assured her it would be fine, she was young and healthy. Friday morning Lora came out of the back with a shocked look that flashed across her face, Sega's husband had been killed in a car accident. We quickly learned, we weren't just co-workers, we were family.
The day of the funeral was cold and bitter. The snow had no mercy on our drives or on our emotions. It was as frozen outside as we all felt on the inside. I hugged Sega while she sobbed and I had no words. I only wanted her to see my face, to know that I was there for her. Nine months later, she had a boy, she named him after her husband. Shortly after his birth, she went back home to Africa, she needed her family.
I drove around today, thinking of the past and felt sad yet brave. If a tender heart from Africa can move here and face such a tragic loss and find the courage to go home, maybe I can too. If God opens the door for me, why would I be scared to go pass its threshold. I can't settle for mediocre, for good enough for right now.....when is it time to step out in faith? I started off immature and weak but I met some amazing people along the way, people that outshine the sun...so this next chapter should be a walk in the park. How can I let go and who do I thank before I leave?
I anxiously wait for Tommy to arrive so we can move!
Monday, May 11, 2015
Quick Realization....
This last weekend, while at church, I started to unravel what has been the trigger to all my late night thinking sessions. I hadn't been to church in about a month and that was my original thought. I had figured that my spirit was dehydrated and it needed to wet her feet in a cool pool of worship. I knew that wasn't truly it but it sounded spiritual at the time. I then tried to get to the root, connect to my insanity. Perhaps it was because Tommy has been gone for four months and all the little things that has happened while he is TDY. I knew that wasn't it, but it sounded logical at the time. I searched my mind until I hit a mental speed bump. I came to the realization that I need to reboot my social network.
I have made friends with people that don't necessarily inspire me nor support me. These past four months, only a few have asked how things have gone, checked up on me or even asked how Tommy is doing. Only a few people listen to my stories and allow me to share my thoughts and ideas, very few. I did a friendship inventory and I have emotionally invested in the wrong people. I'm not saying they are wrong people, just wrong for me. I have started to second guess conversations and whether I'm in the right church since its been impossible to make any true connections. Then again, it's been difficult to make any true connections in the Springs. I couldn't help but wonder, maybe it's me. I have listened way more than anyone has ever listened to me. I can recount every story and details of most of what others have shared with me yet I bet none know anything significant that is going on in my life. I've admired and cherished the wrong people.
How can I get out of the corner? Out of the shadows? How do I make myself noticed and respected? Is it once a middle child, always a middle child? It feels as if I am holding on to my own one sided relationships and it's strange because...even then, I'm only left with myself.
Saturday, April 11, 2015
The Dilema of Perfection...
Here is the thing. Its not that I don't want to do a good job but crying over the perfect email is exhausting and a hundred years from, who is going to care? The upside in thinking in the terms of eternity is that, when is this going to matter? the downside is that others really do care, today, right now. Yesterday, I came home in tears and no one was around to share my experience. The hubby is TDY in South Korea supposedly miserable and wishing to be home, at least, that's what I think he said but it was too loud at the restaurant he was at with his friends. Amanda is usually good for a quick laugh but she was still at work and that is pretty much my circle. Well, that's not true, I have others in my circle but no one was around. So there I was, sitting on my couch, crying.
The dilemma of perfection is that it doesn't exist. I feel that no matter what I do, it will never be perfect. The issue is, I'm not chasing perfectionism but I'm around others that do. I don't understand because the only people who would notice are typically ones that no one really likes anyway. Its all for show and its for an unappreciative audience. Even if my words, grammar and message was perfectly clear and exact, no one will ever say "Hey, I wanted to let you know that I read your email and was profoundly pleased on how perfect it was." No, most people will skim the content, hit reply and write "works for me" and on to the next. Is that not how it has become, a tell me what you need so I can move on with my life approach. Its a series of short emails, texts and conversations so we all can move on. Perhaps back in the day, communication was a slow waltz but today, we are all do-si-do-ing multiple messages. No one has time to linger in what anyone else has to say, I mean, I'm pretty sure email was invented because someone thought "you know what's annoying? talking to people."
I have a goal of two years and then I don't know what is next. I just know that something happens in two years. Who know, maybe the sky will fall which is fine by me because I keep getting emails about attending seminars about how to plan for retirement. I can't even plan dinner yet I'm supposed to plan for something twenty years from now? My 401k plan is the world ending. In two years things will be different but today, how do I achieve a level of perfectionism that is realistically unattainable. I feel like I have to catch the tooth fairy and it would be easy if such a thing existed. Why is it so important for some people to have things absolutely perfect? don't get me wrong, I'm not dismissing the art of job well done or suggesting to settle for "meeting expectations" but shouldn't we gauge what truly needs to have the highest level of detail versus the not so big small stuff. How does lil ole imperfect me exist in a world ran by a giant perfectionist? Take a deep breath, stay tuned and wish me luck!
The dilemma of perfection is that it doesn't exist. I feel that no matter what I do, it will never be perfect. The issue is, I'm not chasing perfectionism but I'm around others that do. I don't understand because the only people who would notice are typically ones that no one really likes anyway. Its all for show and its for an unappreciative audience. Even if my words, grammar and message was perfectly clear and exact, no one will ever say "Hey, I wanted to let you know that I read your email and was profoundly pleased on how perfect it was." No, most people will skim the content, hit reply and write "works for me" and on to the next. Is that not how it has become, a tell me what you need so I can move on with my life approach. Its a series of short emails, texts and conversations so we all can move on. Perhaps back in the day, communication was a slow waltz but today, we are all do-si-do-ing multiple messages. No one has time to linger in what anyone else has to say, I mean, I'm pretty sure email was invented because someone thought "you know what's annoying? talking to people."
I have a goal of two years and then I don't know what is next. I just know that something happens in two years. Who know, maybe the sky will fall which is fine by me because I keep getting emails about attending seminars about how to plan for retirement. I can't even plan dinner yet I'm supposed to plan for something twenty years from now? My 401k plan is the world ending. In two years things will be different but today, how do I achieve a level of perfectionism that is realistically unattainable. I feel like I have to catch the tooth fairy and it would be easy if such a thing existed. Why is it so important for some people to have things absolutely perfect? don't get me wrong, I'm not dismissing the art of job well done or suggesting to settle for "meeting expectations" but shouldn't we gauge what truly needs to have the highest level of detail versus the not so big small stuff. How does lil ole imperfect me exist in a world ran by a giant perfectionist? Take a deep breath, stay tuned and wish me luck!
Tuesday, March 31, 2015
Letting it Go......
My mom is a funny creature. She is filled with these wild opinions that go no-where. Her thoughts rummage through the room like a misbehaved child and I'm usually stuck babysitting. She is very anti-religion. She dislikes the heavy burden it places on the spirit, the "rules made by man" and if you couldn't tell, she is a bitter former Catholic. Today, she is Christian, a relationship based follower so the formality of faith truly annoys her. I on the other hand, I'm more liberal in my thinking. I understand her dislike but I don't find her energy on the subject necessary. I feel we express our faith through our own individual gifts and abilities therefore every slice of faith will look different.
However, recently, my thoughts have changed regarding how I respond to my spiritual walk. I thought that God's love was unconditional. I would sing along to the worship song about nothing can separate us from the love of God. I honestly and whole-heartily used to believe that. I thought God's love was this huge oasis of grace and I can swim in mercy. It was all so lovely and comforting and a lie. The truth is, I didn't believe that. Somewhere deep down within, God's love was conditional. I thought that as long as I can keep certain attitudes and thoughts at bay then I would be alright. If I can tithe more, if I volunteered more, be the light and spend more time in prayer etc. I had my Christian to-do list, all accessories of the heart. I was even convinced that all those things were who I was but honestly, it was an aspiration, total nonsense that I told myself day in and day out. Finally, at 2 am, I realized that I've been living a total lie. I didn't believe in God's unconditional love because I felt all this pressure to do and no interest in actually being. I had become my mom's greatest dislike, I got sucked into a form of religion, disgusted as "Christianity."
What happens when I fall or stumble, is it enough to survive on good intentions or does it constantly have to be this heightened level of exhausting intentional intentions. What happens when I don't feel like doing the right thing? I know that sin is exhausting but so is not sinning. I've been conditioned to believe that everything is a sin. How I spend my time, my money and energy. Lately, everything feels so tainted, mostly because I've discovered how I don't honestly believe in God's unconditional love because if I truly did, I would find rest and not restlessness.
I'm not going to hide from God anymore. Instead of denying how I'm feeling, I'm just going to be honest. What if I poured out all my selfish and inconvenient thoughts without any reservations. I sin when I tell myself I have nothing to say. Christianity isn't a laid out menu of right choices. What if living a true Christian life is the acceptance of broken promises, secret moments, hidden agendas and bad attitudes because that is the only path to walk on if I ever truly want to experience true unconditional love. I can find my true strength when I accept that I don't have any. I decided a long ago that I have no interest on "having it all together" because I know people who supposedly do and they are unfriendly. I have always wanted to stay broken but lately, I just want to achieve a flawed perfection because I'm tired of telling myself not to feel certain things, I can't deny my thoughts, fears or feelings any longer because its only through confession that I will ever experience grace.
However, recently, my thoughts have changed regarding how I respond to my spiritual walk. I thought that God's love was unconditional. I would sing along to the worship song about nothing can separate us from the love of God. I honestly and whole-heartily used to believe that. I thought God's love was this huge oasis of grace and I can swim in mercy. It was all so lovely and comforting and a lie. The truth is, I didn't believe that. Somewhere deep down within, God's love was conditional. I thought that as long as I can keep certain attitudes and thoughts at bay then I would be alright. If I can tithe more, if I volunteered more, be the light and spend more time in prayer etc. I had my Christian to-do list, all accessories of the heart. I was even convinced that all those things were who I was but honestly, it was an aspiration, total nonsense that I told myself day in and day out. Finally, at 2 am, I realized that I've been living a total lie. I didn't believe in God's unconditional love because I felt all this pressure to do and no interest in actually being. I had become my mom's greatest dislike, I got sucked into a form of religion, disgusted as "Christianity."
What happens when I fall or stumble, is it enough to survive on good intentions or does it constantly have to be this heightened level of exhausting intentional intentions. What happens when I don't feel like doing the right thing? I know that sin is exhausting but so is not sinning. I've been conditioned to believe that everything is a sin. How I spend my time, my money and energy. Lately, everything feels so tainted, mostly because I've discovered how I don't honestly believe in God's unconditional love because if I truly did, I would find rest and not restlessness.
I'm not going to hide from God anymore. Instead of denying how I'm feeling, I'm just going to be honest. What if I poured out all my selfish and inconvenient thoughts without any reservations. I sin when I tell myself I have nothing to say. Christianity isn't a laid out menu of right choices. What if living a true Christian life is the acceptance of broken promises, secret moments, hidden agendas and bad attitudes because that is the only path to walk on if I ever truly want to experience true unconditional love. I can find my true strength when I accept that I don't have any. I decided a long ago that I have no interest on "having it all together" because I know people who supposedly do and they are unfriendly. I have always wanted to stay broken but lately, I just want to achieve a flawed perfection because I'm tired of telling myself not to feel certain things, I can't deny my thoughts, fears or feelings any longer because its only through confession that I will ever experience grace.
Sunday, February 22, 2015
Radically Saved
When I was in oh I don't know, maybe third or fourth grade, my musician of choice was Christian Contemporary singer by the name of Carman. The way he strung together bible stories to an upbeat tempo kept me inspired and completely uncool with my friends all the way into high school. My earliest memories of Christian music had been a soft and sullen melody, a tune so dull that I'm pretty sure that God nodded off when he listened to it. Originally, I grew up Catholic so up to this point, I had thought faith was a Tuesday at 2 p.m. type of sensation. However, when Carman found his way into my Walkman, I started to believe that maybe, just possibly, God could be fun, kinda like the when the shy kid at school is actually funny.
One song he had was titled "Radically Saved" and I wanted to be radically saved! In grade school, I was a complete nerd, designed with crocked teeth, wide eyes decorated by oversized plastic glasses. My short frizzy hair and over-protected mother helped me pay my dues into my lifetime membership to the Uncoolest Kid Association. So to be radical in anything was exciting for me. Especially if being saved was my ticket into heaven. Heaven was a big deal for me. When kids made fun of me or when my school crush's love wasn't mutual, heaven was my secret golden ticket. I felt "hey, that's okay because I'm going to heaven and they aren't." It was as if God and I had a little secret. Nightly God would say "Hey, don't worry about those kids. I have a special place for you when its your time. Its a total no sister or cat zone. You will have cable television and fried potatoes." I tucked my salvation in my back pocket and held my head high because I was radically saved.
Carman truly did have the best lyrics of his time. He weaved in biblical truths in a fun and comprehending way. He made Christian music exciting and it was the first time I had ever danced during worship. I had wanted to be a kid that grew up in church but my mother was having a spiritual identity crisis so we didn't go to church. I was jealous of my friends who got to go to youth group and if they did invite me, my mother would not let me go.
I would read my Precious Moments Bible and do my best to make sense of some the stories. I would listen to Carman for hours till the batteries would die in my Walkman. I wanted to understand the mind of God. I wanted to be a missionary and do big things for God. I truly wanted to be radically saved. I look back at my younger self and on the surface would think how sweet, a young girl chasing down the heart of God. Yet, was she? perhaps I was tired of living in the shadows of my older sister. I was exhausted of being who I was in school, the ugly duckling on the schoolyard and it was in God I felt pretty, accepted and got to feel the warmth of sun, experiences that I didn't have anywhere else. He was going to help me be a writer and if the kids didn't like me in school, that was fine because God loved me. Is it healthy to continue to seek God from an emotional deficit and don't get me wrong, that's how most are introduced to him but can I truly serve him from that spot? because as I grew spiritually, God became more distant because my needs became more complex. Instead of allowing God to be God and me be me, I wanted God to always be a hallmark card. A "hope you are having a good day" type of God but He isn't. He is so much more than that and I spent many years being bitter that God wasn't chasing me down giving me rainbows. God was to always make me feel pretty and accepted, it was all about me that I lost sight of Him.
Today, I am radically saved and I've learned how to tame my frizzy hair. I also have Carman on my Ipod. I'm still not as active in my church as I wish to be and I've always accepted that I don't always have to feel the warmth of the sun, just as long as I know He holds up the moon.
One song he had was titled "Radically Saved" and I wanted to be radically saved! In grade school, I was a complete nerd, designed with crocked teeth, wide eyes decorated by oversized plastic glasses. My short frizzy hair and over-protected mother helped me pay my dues into my lifetime membership to the Uncoolest Kid Association. So to be radical in anything was exciting for me. Especially if being saved was my ticket into heaven. Heaven was a big deal for me. When kids made fun of me or when my school crush's love wasn't mutual, heaven was my secret golden ticket. I felt "hey, that's okay because I'm going to heaven and they aren't." It was as if God and I had a little secret. Nightly God would say "Hey, don't worry about those kids. I have a special place for you when its your time. Its a total no sister or cat zone. You will have cable television and fried potatoes." I tucked my salvation in my back pocket and held my head high because I was radically saved.
Carman truly did have the best lyrics of his time. He weaved in biblical truths in a fun and comprehending way. He made Christian music exciting and it was the first time I had ever danced during worship. I had wanted to be a kid that grew up in church but my mother was having a spiritual identity crisis so we didn't go to church. I was jealous of my friends who got to go to youth group and if they did invite me, my mother would not let me go.
I would read my Precious Moments Bible and do my best to make sense of some the stories. I would listen to Carman for hours till the batteries would die in my Walkman. I wanted to understand the mind of God. I wanted to be a missionary and do big things for God. I truly wanted to be radically saved. I look back at my younger self and on the surface would think how sweet, a young girl chasing down the heart of God. Yet, was she? perhaps I was tired of living in the shadows of my older sister. I was exhausted of being who I was in school, the ugly duckling on the schoolyard and it was in God I felt pretty, accepted and got to feel the warmth of sun, experiences that I didn't have anywhere else. He was going to help me be a writer and if the kids didn't like me in school, that was fine because God loved me. Is it healthy to continue to seek God from an emotional deficit and don't get me wrong, that's how most are introduced to him but can I truly serve him from that spot? because as I grew spiritually, God became more distant because my needs became more complex. Instead of allowing God to be God and me be me, I wanted God to always be a hallmark card. A "hope you are having a good day" type of God but He isn't. He is so much more than that and I spent many years being bitter that God wasn't chasing me down giving me rainbows. God was to always make me feel pretty and accepted, it was all about me that I lost sight of Him.
Today, I am radically saved and I've learned how to tame my frizzy hair. I also have Carman on my Ipod. I'm still not as active in my church as I wish to be and I've always accepted that I don't always have to feel the warmth of the sun, just as long as I know He holds up the moon.
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