Although college has managed to hurl at me an insane amount of uncomfortable change, challenging course work, and never-ending hours, I combat my own inner battles every day. I'm disappointed when I look in mirror. I don't like the way clothes cling to my body. I wish I was shorter, skinner, prettier, nicer, stronger, braver -- more something. I whine and complain and mope, constantly comparing myself to other women who seem more "perfect" and "put together" than I can manage. On most days, I can't seem to be satisfied with who I'm becoming.
But then I remember that I was created by God. By a King. By my rock, my hope, and my salvation. I was thought of such an unfathomably long time ago by someone so magnificent, omnipotent, and unconditionally loving. Sometimes I imagine God, sitting on his throne, planning out His children. I see Him with a notepad, black pen in hand...
"Keller, she's a brave one...I like the name 'Helen.' I hope Arthur and Karen understand...man, that girl's gonna do great things...in her own way."
"Okay, now, we need a leader...he has to be brave. He has to be captivating...to get people's attention. Martin Luther King...Jr. Definitely a junior in title, but a true leader in every way. He's going to make the change."
Then I see Him pause. Pausing to create me.
"What about this one? What should we call her?...with her olive skin, and curly locks...Alix. Alix Carruth. I've got plans for her...plans to give her a hope and a future."
Now, I'm not equating myself to the leader of the Civil Rights Movement on any level. But we come from the same God. We're cut form the same cloth. We're grown from the same seed. MLK and I, we are fearfully and wonderfully made.
I overlook that detail of the Bible way too often. I neglect the scripture. I ignore the blessings. I am too overwhelmed by self-doubt and a lack of confidence to realize that I come from someone so insanely perfect and powerful and praiseworthy. Someone who took the time to stop, think, and create little old me. A mess of a girl who sins daily and fails to recognize the love bestowed upon her. The creator of this entire universe set aside a time to draw a web for the life of a human so sizably insignificant in the grand scheme of His reign...simply because He loves me. Simply because He loves each of us. We can't even begin to understand the scope of a love that deep, that passionate, that selfless.
Again, in my little imaginative head, I see God sitting there, watching me. I see Him beaming at me like a proud father. I see Him cry when I cry, laugh when I laugh, smile when I smile. But on those days of self-loathing and sadness, I imagine He's a little sad too, like a daddy who knows the true potential of his little girl and watches her fail to notice it all.
"My precious daughter...if only you could understand the adoration I have for you. You are beautiful, my love...there is no flaw in you...Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you; I appointed you a prophet to the nations...You are mine, Alix. Never forget that."
My Father loves me. He thinks that I am beautiful. He thinks my body is perfect just the way it is. He thinks my hair is unique, even in all of its curly glory. He thinks my smile is captivating and infectious God knows that I am His, that I am made in the image of His righteous Son with a destiny mapped by His own hand. And He shines approval down onto me every single day -- I just have to look up and soak it in.
Sunday, April 7, 2013
Saturday, March 9, 2013
Confession #13: It's okay not to be okay.
The past seven months of my life have been filled with continual change and constant adjustment. Moving states, making new friends, changing schools, digging into my major, having my heart broken, building a church community, all of it. It’s been one giant struggle that’s sparked a lot of joy but also an immense amount of pain. I’ve blogged about this topic before, but lately my maternal aches of longing and loneliness have grown even more intense since this semester began. Instead of being excited for the future, I am often nervous and worried that my chances at happiness are completely passing me by. I’ve tried so hard to run away from it, to find joy again and to stop feeling so lost. But I never succeed. Instead, I remain lonely, wanting and confused.
I’ve never been one to feel void of my own identity. I’ve typically felt rather secure in who I am, comfortable with both the negatives and positives of my character. Of course we all have things we wish to change about ourselves, but it’s never really been a major battle for me.
Ever since January, I’ve felt defenseless. I haven’t prepared myself for this battle or the solitude that accompanies it. For feeling so lost and unequipped…for the ridicule, the judgment and the insecurity.
At home in North Richland Hills, my friends knew me. And I mean really knew me. I’ve had the same basic support system since seventh grade. Friends who have watched me grow into a much kinder woman, a woman of leadership and faith and confidence. My closest friends understood my affectionate side and my sassy side. They knew how much I emphasized touch and hugs and admiration, and they knew how to deal with my lack of patience and controlling tendencies. Those friends were and will forever be my home. The place I know that I belong.
But since moving to Missouri, it’s been hard to find that home again. It’s hard to explain to people how much family means to me, how much I want to be a mother, how much I do believe in true and everlasting love despite the experiences life has plagued me with over the years. It’s hard to be judged and misunderstood and outspoken. It’s been a constant battle, both inwardly and outwardly, since moving here, but it’s intensified in the past few weeks. I’ve struggled to overcome the trial and to hurry up past this point and get over it. To be comfortable again with who I am and get over my obsession with marriage and motherhood. But I never questioned why…why do I want to get over it? Why is it not okay to feel this way? Why is it not socially acceptable to have this mindset? Why is it such a foreign idea?
Today, my sweet friend Marisa shared a blog with me from a fellow Christian who understands my confliction. He described that loneliness is a way of God manifesting himself and allowing His voice to be heard in our lives. The blogger emphasized how desires like this have to be brought to the Lord and spent time on – that it’s okay to “rest in that longing…that solitude, that stillness, that stretch. Allow God to transform your ache. Don’t run from it – own it.”
I sat in awe as I read about a man who finally gave me the answer I needed. It’s not okay to feel this way because society does not understand it. Society is of this world – materialistic, confused and fallen. Marriage is no longer sacred, families are torn apart every day, and motherhood is a chapter of life that comes earlier and earlier to teens each year.
But in God’s eyes, this struggle is perfectly acceptable. This trial is calculated, specific and indispensable. The aches are a great opportunity for God to work in my life and build and build and build me into the woman, wife and mother He needs me to be. For my husband, my children and my family.
I have to stop rushing. I have to stop running from Him, running from myself, and running from the pain. It hurts sometimes, and it’s lonely and critical and hard nearly every day. But it’s purposeful. I know for a fact that I will treasure my husband so much more if I’ve gone through such an intense trial to get to him.
Society can tell me what it wants to. My peers can laugh at my aspirations, not understand my outlook, or completely disagree with my priorities. But they’re there for a reason, and they aren’t going anywhere. God has planted this desire into my heart at such a young age in order to transform me into a Proverbs 31 woman of courage, faith and affection.
Today I learned that it’s okay to be lonely. It’s okay to be silent and listening. It’s okay to be where I am and to not really know where life is going. And it is 100% without a doubt okay to want to share my life with a family in a future that God creates.
Friday, February 15, 2013
Confession #12: I've missed the mark.
This past Tuesday was a rough one. It was filled with a lot of truth, a lot of honesty, and a little too much talking. It came to my attention that a majority of the time, my mouth forms words that are judgmental and harsh. When I try to convey a certain message, it is often twisted and seen as hateful and hypocritical. I share my spiritual life with all of you, but some see it as bragging. I'm an open book when the Lord lays something on my heart, but some see it as being too vulnerable. I am straight-forward and sincere, but I'm a hypocrite.
It's no secret that I'm not an advocate of underage drinking. Or premarital sex. Or drug use of any kind. Or a lot of other things. I don't agree with that lifestyle and I believe it only leads to immense self-destruction down the line. I've seen it hurt my relatives, contribute to suicide attempts of those around me, and prolong depression rather than inspiring recuperation. I've seen it destroy families and creative genetic patterns that continue for decades. After seeing the pattern present in my own lineage, I promised myself I'd do whatever I could to counteract such methods of demolition.
Do I apologize for my views? No. But I apologize for the approach.
I try to stem from love in everything I do. Under the hard shell and thick skin, I am an extremely loving person. As you all know, I'm affectionate with my friends, a sappy romantic, and I keep my emotions on the surface. I have so much love to give, and I just want the best for everyone. I want everyone to follow Christ. I want this world to bounce back from how far it has fallen. I want people to follow the law, believe in marriage, and do things to better themselves, not perpetuate harm. I want everyone to understand what it's like to be content with your decisions and experience joy every single day. I want you to feel loved. Especially by Him.
Am I a perfect person? Far from it. Everyone sins, everyone falls, everyone strays. It's human nature; we were given free will as a means of choosing our own path, despite the road that God has already made for each of us. "With great power comes great responsibility." We can use this free will to live a life that tries its hardest to glorify the Lord, or we can make decisions that push us further and further away from His will. It's up to each individual to make that choice. I try every single day to be aware of my actions and their consequences, especially spiritually. But I make mistakes. I say mean things and let words slip and have a faulty filter. I have to cognitively make the choice to not spit poison left and right. Life isn't any easier for Christians. The sinful nature is still there. The remorse is still there. But the difference lies in the motivation -- I don't live to better my own endeavors. I live to better my relationship with Him.
I've made a lot of wrong turns in my 19 years of existence. And I have no doubt that I'll make hundreds more in the years to come. But the most important part of the story is the reversal. The u-turn back to Him. The recognition of the action's true meaning that does not align with the Word. Isaiah 59:2-3 says: "But your iniquities have separated you from your God; your sins have hidden his face from you, so that he will not hear. For your hands are stained with blood, your fingers with guilt. Your lips have spoken falsely, and your tongue mutters wicked things."Sin forces a wedge between us and the Lord. The literal definition of "sin" translates to "miss the mark" -- to make a decision that veers from His will, strays from His path, and claims ourselves as our own authority. I have my own perception of what is right and wrong, of what is spiritually aligned with God. But what does that matter? Do I have the final say it what sin is and what it isn't? No. And you don't either.
He does.
He already paid the price, cured the virus, killed the problem.
The debate was resolved over nearly 2,000 years ago.
What I'm trying to say is I'm sorry. I'm sorry for offending anyone and everyone. I'm sorry for being hypocritical and saying one thing while doing another. I'm sorry for sinning, for dishonoring the Lord, and for not achieving the perfection others hope for. I understand that passing judgment on those who live differently than I do is no the proper way to go about it. That method is definitely not a reflection of the life Jesus lived. He loves ever sinner, regardless of the magnitutde of their transgressions. He loves me despite my mistakes. I have to extend the same to others. I have that love in my heart, but it tends to come across as quite the opposite.
I'll work on the method, but the message remains.
It's no secret that I'm not an advocate of underage drinking. Or premarital sex. Or drug use of any kind. Or a lot of other things. I don't agree with that lifestyle and I believe it only leads to immense self-destruction down the line. I've seen it hurt my relatives, contribute to suicide attempts of those around me, and prolong depression rather than inspiring recuperation. I've seen it destroy families and creative genetic patterns that continue for decades. After seeing the pattern present in my own lineage, I promised myself I'd do whatever I could to counteract such methods of demolition.
Do I apologize for my views? No. But I apologize for the approach.
I try to stem from love in everything I do. Under the hard shell and thick skin, I am an extremely loving person. As you all know, I'm affectionate with my friends, a sappy romantic, and I keep my emotions on the surface. I have so much love to give, and I just want the best for everyone. I want everyone to follow Christ. I want this world to bounce back from how far it has fallen. I want people to follow the law, believe in marriage, and do things to better themselves, not perpetuate harm. I want everyone to understand what it's like to be content with your decisions and experience joy every single day. I want you to feel loved. Especially by Him.
Am I a perfect person? Far from it. Everyone sins, everyone falls, everyone strays. It's human nature; we were given free will as a means of choosing our own path, despite the road that God has already made for each of us. "With great power comes great responsibility." We can use this free will to live a life that tries its hardest to glorify the Lord, or we can make decisions that push us further and further away from His will. It's up to each individual to make that choice. I try every single day to be aware of my actions and their consequences, especially spiritually. But I make mistakes. I say mean things and let words slip and have a faulty filter. I have to cognitively make the choice to not spit poison left and right. Life isn't any easier for Christians. The sinful nature is still there. The remorse is still there. But the difference lies in the motivation -- I don't live to better my own endeavors. I live to better my relationship with Him.
I've made a lot of wrong turns in my 19 years of existence. And I have no doubt that I'll make hundreds more in the years to come. But the most important part of the story is the reversal. The u-turn back to Him. The recognition of the action's true meaning that does not align with the Word. Isaiah 59:2-3 says: "But your iniquities have separated you from your God; your sins have hidden his face from you, so that he will not hear. For your hands are stained with blood, your fingers with guilt. Your lips have spoken falsely, and your tongue mutters wicked things."Sin forces a wedge between us and the Lord. The literal definition of "sin" translates to "miss the mark" -- to make a decision that veers from His will, strays from His path, and claims ourselves as our own authority. I have my own perception of what is right and wrong, of what is spiritually aligned with God. But what does that matter? Do I have the final say it what sin is and what it isn't? No. And you don't either.
He does.
He already paid the price, cured the virus, killed the problem.
The debate was resolved over nearly 2,000 years ago.
What I'm trying to say is I'm sorry. I'm sorry for offending anyone and everyone. I'm sorry for being hypocritical and saying one thing while doing another. I'm sorry for sinning, for dishonoring the Lord, and for not achieving the perfection others hope for. I understand that passing judgment on those who live differently than I do is no the proper way to go about it. That method is definitely not a reflection of the life Jesus lived. He loves ever sinner, regardless of the magnitutde of their transgressions. He loves me despite my mistakes. I have to extend the same to others. I have that love in my heart, but it tends to come across as quite the opposite.
I'll work on the method, but the message remains.
"First, I thank my God through Jesus Christ for all of you, because your faith is being reported all over the world. God, whom I serve in my spirit in preaching the gospel of his Son, is my witness how constantly I remember you in my prayers at all times; and I pray that now at last by God’s will the way may be opened for me to come to you...For I am not ashamed of the gospel, because it is the power of God that brings salvation to everyone who believes: first to the Jew, then to the Gentile. For in the gospel the righteousness of God is revealed—a righteousness that is by faith from first to last, just as it is written: “The righteous will live by faith."
-Romans 1:8-10, 16-17
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
Confession #11: I don't want to obey You.
Lately I've been trying my absolute hardest to give God control of my life and allow Him to direct my path in whatever way He sees fit. It seems silly to try to control the One who created every living thing that was, is, and will be. It seems ridiculous to attempt to gain control of a life that is predestined. It seems foolish to think you can outsmart a god who is omniscient, omnipotent, and omnipresent. Yet every single day, I am desperate to take control of a life that isn't mine. I'm anxious and scared and terrified. And I can't seem to shake this "funk" of fear.
I don't want to obey You. I don't like the thought of giving it all up to You. I don't like the idea of not knowing what tomorrow holds. I don't like being oblivious to knowledge, to understanding. I want to be in control. I want to be the driver, and I want You to be a passenger. I try to fight the urge inside of me that tells me to ignore everything You say. To pave my own path, to try to matter to someone else, to try to make something of myself. I want to work hard and become skilled in my field and have an abundance of friends and never miss home and finally meet my husband and graduate and get a steady career and plan my wedding and start a family. I want everything to flow together seamlessly -- without interjection, without any surprises.
The truth is, this life is not mine. This life is a gift bestowed upon me by my Father, the only One who will never fail me. I'm not of this world, and all of the minuscule details of the life I imagine are irrelevant compared to the amazingly blessed path He has already made for me. I just have to let Him take control. I have to learn to stop trying to control everything, stop searching for my husband, stop stressing about the details. In a sense, I have to stop being me. I've always been a leader. I've always liked to take control of the situation and make the tough decisions. Today, right now, in this moment, I want to call the shots. I've always wanted to steer the boat and make it to land safely. But what is a boat without a sail? What good does a hollow shell do me without something to catch the wind? In this life, God is my wind. He designed my boat long before I ever came along. He gave me a beautiful beach, gorgeous sunsets, and soft sand. He blessed me with a hard shell, resistant to all of the storms and salt and exposure. He set me free at sea, free to navigate as I'd like to and make my own decisions about the ship's maintenance. If I take care of it, if I honor its creation and allow it to serve its purpose, if I let God's wind catch my sail and direct me toward Heaven's beaches, all is well. But in order for that to happen, I have to get my sail out there and allow it to react. If I try to make progress without it, I'll go absolutely nowhere. No matter what desperate attempts I make to get from point A to point B on the open water without that sail, I will forever be stuck. All of the fear, all of the desperation, all of the anxiety falls heavy on my heart and forms itself into a massive anchor tying me to the middle of the nowhere.
Maybe God's plan doesn't perfectly line up with mine. Maybe I want the Atlantic but instead he laid my boat gently on the open water of the Pacific. Maybe He has something in store for me that is insanely better than the plan I have in mind for myself. Something filled with more joy, more peace, and more understanding than I could ever gain on my own. All of the kicking and screaming I do now isn't helping the cause, but pushing me further and further from God's will in my life.
I cannot control everything. I cannot direct the wind and the rain and the water. All I can do is try my hardest to keep my boat in tip-top shape, set sail, and allow God's wind to take me where He has destined me to go.
I don't want to obey You. I don't like the thought of giving it all up to You. I don't like the idea of not knowing what tomorrow holds. I don't like being oblivious to knowledge, to understanding. I want to be in control. I want to be the driver, and I want You to be a passenger. I try to fight the urge inside of me that tells me to ignore everything You say. To pave my own path, to try to matter to someone else, to try to make something of myself. I want to work hard and become skilled in my field and have an abundance of friends and never miss home and finally meet my husband and graduate and get a steady career and plan my wedding and start a family. I want everything to flow together seamlessly -- without interjection, without any surprises.
The truth is, this life is not mine. This life is a gift bestowed upon me by my Father, the only One who will never fail me. I'm not of this world, and all of the minuscule details of the life I imagine are irrelevant compared to the amazingly blessed path He has already made for me. I just have to let Him take control. I have to learn to stop trying to control everything, stop searching for my husband, stop stressing about the details. In a sense, I have to stop being me. I've always been a leader. I've always liked to take control of the situation and make the tough decisions. Today, right now, in this moment, I want to call the shots. I've always wanted to steer the boat and make it to land safely. But what is a boat without a sail? What good does a hollow shell do me without something to catch the wind? In this life, God is my wind. He designed my boat long before I ever came along. He gave me a beautiful beach, gorgeous sunsets, and soft sand. He blessed me with a hard shell, resistant to all of the storms and salt and exposure. He set me free at sea, free to navigate as I'd like to and make my own decisions about the ship's maintenance. If I take care of it, if I honor its creation and allow it to serve its purpose, if I let God's wind catch my sail and direct me toward Heaven's beaches, all is well. But in order for that to happen, I have to get my sail out there and allow it to react. If I try to make progress without it, I'll go absolutely nowhere. No matter what desperate attempts I make to get from point A to point B on the open water without that sail, I will forever be stuck. All of the fear, all of the desperation, all of the anxiety falls heavy on my heart and forms itself into a massive anchor tying me to the middle of the nowhere.
Maybe God's plan doesn't perfectly line up with mine. Maybe I want the Atlantic but instead he laid my boat gently on the open water of the Pacific. Maybe He has something in store for me that is insanely better than the plan I have in mind for myself. Something filled with more joy, more peace, and more understanding than I could ever gain on my own. All of the kicking and screaming I do now isn't helping the cause, but pushing me further and further from God's will in my life.
I cannot control everything. I cannot direct the wind and the rain and the water. All I can do is try my hardest to keep my boat in tip-top shape, set sail, and allow God's wind to take me where He has destined me to go.
Thursday, January 31, 2013
Confession #10: I'll be waiting.
To my husband...
I prayed for you today. I know I promised myself that I would pray for you every day, beginning several months ago, but I failed to start. I never knew how to begin...where to begin. What to ask for, how to talk to God about you. It's silly to think that I was embarrassed about all of it. About how much love I have for you already, about how much I have planned for our future, about the names I have picked out for the children that I hope we bring into this world, about everything. It's silly to think that I was afraid of bringing the idea of you to Him, of laying it all down at His feet. I think I was afraid of letting go of control and allowing God to have His way with our future. I just wanted it to be us, ya know? For life to happen as it may, for us to meet and fall in love, to have Lillia and Cadance and Tobin and Elijah, to have a great family. The surface of my mind was always clouded with the doubt of God's ability to handle it. What a silly thought...doubting Him like that. After all, He knows you and He knows me. He knows "us" better than we ever will. He's the one that has handled each of us individually for the past 19+ years, and he'll begin to handle us together when He's ready. When we're ready.
Last night was hard. I got into bed, just like any other night, but this insane wave of emotion rushed over my body and I started sobbing and praying to God about how scared I was for the future, and I started writing this letter to you and our children and everything just felt so real. I wish you could've been there to comfort me. I've been feeling somewhat melancholy in general lately, and I think it's just a compilation of a bunch of little things starting to weigh heavily on my psyche. Sometimes I wonder where you are, who you're with, and what you're doing. I wonder if you think about me when your mind wanders. I wonder if you pray for me, too, and if you love the Lord like I do. I wonder how we'll meet, and if you'll make me nervous. I wonder if you'll be impressed by me and if we'll act silly together. I wonder what it will feel like to have butterflies again. But most of all, I wonder how you'll love someone like me.
Even though I'm surrounded by friends that love me and cherish me every day, I can't help but feel lonely. Some of my closest friends are moving right along in this department, and here I am -- the only one that really wants to get married, that really wants to be a mommy, that really could care less about college or a degree or a career so long as I have a family -- and I can't seem to do anything right. I'm definitely aware of my lack of experience in the love department and I always worry that I'm going to disappoint you, so I try to make up for it in any way that I can. Nearly every single decision I make revolves around our family. I don't support the consumption of alcohol or drugs or sex because I want to be the best person I can be. For you. And for Lillia. And Cadence, and Tobin, and Elijah. I want to be healthy so that we can lead our children into a healthy lifestyle and prolong their lifespan to the best of our abilities. I want to grow spiritually so that you can depend on me. I want to love the Lord so that I can learn how to properly love you. I want to be your rock in times of struggle, your refuge in times of need. I want us to work together and lean on Him in every way. They say a family that prays together stays together, and I know that we can live that out if we work at it.
I am so excited to have children. To start a family, to get our lives going. Most of my friends think the idea of being pregnant is not at all appealing, but I will be elated when we find out we're having our first little one. To be honest, a part of me worries that God may have other plans for us. I know this is extremely far fetched, but what if I can't have kids? What if my body won't allow me to? What if I have miscarriages? What if I can't get pregnant? Don't get me wrong, I'm not opposed to adoption. I've recently seen a spark of light in me that is actually drawn to it. I've always seen adoption as an amazing thing to pursue, but I never thought I would be strong enough. But I'm beginning to rethink that now. Would you want to adopt? I want to be pregnant and have the experience of bringing someone into the world myself, but maybe we can adopt as well. Just one. Or two, or three, or five -- whatever the Lord calls us to do, we'll do it. If it's in His cards for us, we will lean on Him for guidance.
I carry you, our children, and each of our own families on my heart every single day. My children...our children...they haven't even been conceived and I worry for their safety. I worry for your safety and I haven't even met you. I'm sure by now you've sensed that I'm a worry wart....Tess even agreed that I was last night when I texted her. (She's my best friend -- you'll meet her someday, I'm sure of it.) I like to think that all of the worry is my brain's way of extending the rhythm of compassion my heart beats to. I hope that you love that part of me -- the compassionate part. I think our marriage is going to be a passionate one, mentally and spiritually and emotionally. I think passionate people are beautiful people. I hope you're beautiful in that way.
I just want you to know that I am trying my absolute hardest to be my best self. I want to be a Proverbs 31 woman for you...clothed in dignity and strength, laughing without fear of the future. And I hope that you're hard at work too, becoming the man that God made you to be and building a strong spiritual foundation for our family. I will love you with everything that I have, following the image of the One who loves us.
I'll see you soon, dear. I love you.
xoxo
I prayed for you today. I know I promised myself that I would pray for you every day, beginning several months ago, but I failed to start. I never knew how to begin...where to begin. What to ask for, how to talk to God about you. It's silly to think that I was embarrassed about all of it. About how much love I have for you already, about how much I have planned for our future, about the names I have picked out for the children that I hope we bring into this world, about everything. It's silly to think that I was afraid of bringing the idea of you to Him, of laying it all down at His feet. I think I was afraid of letting go of control and allowing God to have His way with our future. I just wanted it to be us, ya know? For life to happen as it may, for us to meet and fall in love, to have Lillia and Cadance and Tobin and Elijah, to have a great family. The surface of my mind was always clouded with the doubt of God's ability to handle it. What a silly thought...doubting Him like that. After all, He knows you and He knows me. He knows "us" better than we ever will. He's the one that has handled each of us individually for the past 19+ years, and he'll begin to handle us together when He's ready. When we're ready.
Last night was hard. I got into bed, just like any other night, but this insane wave of emotion rushed over my body and I started sobbing and praying to God about how scared I was for the future, and I started writing this letter to you and our children and everything just felt so real. I wish you could've been there to comfort me. I've been feeling somewhat melancholy in general lately, and I think it's just a compilation of a bunch of little things starting to weigh heavily on my psyche. Sometimes I wonder where you are, who you're with, and what you're doing. I wonder if you think about me when your mind wanders. I wonder if you pray for me, too, and if you love the Lord like I do. I wonder how we'll meet, and if you'll make me nervous. I wonder if you'll be impressed by me and if we'll act silly together. I wonder what it will feel like to have butterflies again. But most of all, I wonder how you'll love someone like me.
Even though I'm surrounded by friends that love me and cherish me every day, I can't help but feel lonely. Some of my closest friends are moving right along in this department, and here I am -- the only one that really wants to get married, that really wants to be a mommy, that really could care less about college or a degree or a career so long as I have a family -- and I can't seem to do anything right. I'm definitely aware of my lack of experience in the love department and I always worry that I'm going to disappoint you, so I try to make up for it in any way that I can. Nearly every single decision I make revolves around our family. I don't support the consumption of alcohol or drugs or sex because I want to be the best person I can be. For you. And for Lillia. And Cadence, and Tobin, and Elijah. I want to be healthy so that we can lead our children into a healthy lifestyle and prolong their lifespan to the best of our abilities. I want to grow spiritually so that you can depend on me. I want to love the Lord so that I can learn how to properly love you. I want to be your rock in times of struggle, your refuge in times of need. I want us to work together and lean on Him in every way. They say a family that prays together stays together, and I know that we can live that out if we work at it.
I am so excited to have children. To start a family, to get our lives going. Most of my friends think the idea of being pregnant is not at all appealing, but I will be elated when we find out we're having our first little one. To be honest, a part of me worries that God may have other plans for us. I know this is extremely far fetched, but what if I can't have kids? What if my body won't allow me to? What if I have miscarriages? What if I can't get pregnant? Don't get me wrong, I'm not opposed to adoption. I've recently seen a spark of light in me that is actually drawn to it. I've always seen adoption as an amazing thing to pursue, but I never thought I would be strong enough. But I'm beginning to rethink that now. Would you want to adopt? I want to be pregnant and have the experience of bringing someone into the world myself, but maybe we can adopt as well. Just one. Or two, or three, or five -- whatever the Lord calls us to do, we'll do it. If it's in His cards for us, we will lean on Him for guidance.
I carry you, our children, and each of our own families on my heart every single day. My children...our children...they haven't even been conceived and I worry for their safety. I worry for your safety and I haven't even met you. I'm sure by now you've sensed that I'm a worry wart....Tess even agreed that I was last night when I texted her. (She's my best friend -- you'll meet her someday, I'm sure of it.) I like to think that all of the worry is my brain's way of extending the rhythm of compassion my heart beats to. I hope that you love that part of me -- the compassionate part. I think our marriage is going to be a passionate one, mentally and spiritually and emotionally. I think passionate people are beautiful people. I hope you're beautiful in that way.
I just want you to know that I am trying my absolute hardest to be my best self. I want to be a Proverbs 31 woman for you...clothed in dignity and strength, laughing without fear of the future. And I hope that you're hard at work too, becoming the man that God made you to be and building a strong spiritual foundation for our family. I will love you with everything that I have, following the image of the One who loves us.
I'll see you soon, dear. I love you.
xoxo
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
Confession #9: Your grace is enough.
On December 4, I applied to be a spring 2013 columnist for Mizzou's student-run newspaper The Maneater. I was confident in my application -- the answers I provided, my two sample columns, and the link to this very blog which I was sure would catch attention. I was really hopeful to see where the columnist position could take me and what sort of voice I could bring to campus.
To me, entitlement is an emotion created by the human race. An emotion of greed, desire, and a self-centered lifestyle that takes over our minds and hearts on an almost daily basis. Who ever said that we have a right to all of the blessings that are bestowed onto us in this lifetime -- a right so critical that it is viewed as legal? A claim of ownership that stems from disillusion and possessive tendencies? Walking through life every day with a mind of entitlement leads to disaster. We are reminded in Proverbs 19:21 that our own plans are of very little importance: "Many are the plans in a person’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails." God's plan is bigger and better than anything that we could ever imagine. Whatever you believe you are entitled to, whatever I believe I deserve, whatever we believe we have earned, is irrelevant in the eyes of the Lord. He generously blesses each and every one of us in ways we can't even begin to understand. There is no shame in hard-work and determination; they can be crucial aspects of progress and success. It is when this driven attitude morphs into greedy privilege that the true trouble begins. Entitlement is powerful. It is not yielding to take over, it is not hesitant to rule. It swiftly fills in the gaps of our hearts and clouds our minds. We must instead focus on the grace of God to develop true understanding. Grace is the single most important thing that we receive without deserving. We have done nothing to earn God's grace, but He gives it to us regardless. Sin forgiven, we are cleansed. He pardons our mistakes and blesses us abundantly every day.
On January 18, I received the following email from one of the paper's staff members:
Dear Alix,
On behalf of The Maneater editorial board, I'd like to thank you again for applying for a Spring 2013 column. I was very impressed. Your application and blog reflected thoughtfulness, knowledge, and strong communication skills. However, the editorial board has decided not to select you for a column this semester.
We hope that you continue to pursue your talents in persuasive writing and spreading your message, and urge you to apply next fall if you are so inclined. Have a great semester!
My heart dropped instantly. I was so ready to begin working on my portfolio, to write columns that could be used as clips for later applications, to gain some sort of entrance into the journalistic world to which I am still a complete stranger. I was eager to get my words out into the public forum. I wanted to speak, and I wanted people to listen. When I first emailed my application, I was sure that I had a fair chance at getting the position. I had heard countless times from many of my peers and professors that I was a great writer with wisdom, talent, and a real future. And I truly thought that this column was my one-way ticket into a completely new environment. I felt entitled, worthy, and sure of myself for the first time in months.
Over the past few days, I've found myself moping around with the belief that a position I deserved had been taken away from me. Stolen from me, even, by people who failed to see my true potential. I was angry and frustrated and sickened by the lack of recognition my application received. I felt deserving of the position and was extremely bitter about the outcome. In my mind, the column had been mine to claim all along. But that was not the reality. That feeling of entitlement was completely toxic -- but nothing new. In past years, it has crept into every aspect of my life, wriggled its way into the shadowed corners of my soul, and turned my world inside out. Believing that I deserve everything I ever want is exhausting and continually disappointing. The world does not revolve around me. The human race does not bow down at my feet. I am not supreme. In reality, everyone does not get everything on their wish list. Those who attain such pleasure are usually plagued by minds that are off-centered, clouded, and confused. Idolizing success is just as sinful as idolizing any other god.
The Oxford Dictionary entry for "entitled" is as follows:
One of the worst parts of this entire scenario is the fact that I completely ignored the actual praise I was given in that email. I was deemed impressive, thoughtful, and knowledgable. The editorial board didn't dislike my blog. They weren't disgusted by my writing style. They didn't fail to understand my message or believe in my talent. The compliments I did receive were small blessings which gave me a sense of happiness that I failed to notice in the first place. My belief that the position was mine from the get-go was a result of greed and insecurity. It's probable that the "big prize" I so desperately wanted was given to a writer of equal or higher talent. Every single one of the applicants worked hard to get the application done on time, display the best of their creativity, and promote a message they sought to expand on. Just because I didn't get the position I wanted doesn't mean the person who did was of less merit. Being a spring 2013 columnist for The Maneater wasn't in the deck for me, but it was a card played by God for someone else. Each of our decks differs in time, place, and circumstance; though the timing may seem off to us, every card is perfected by Him. Worry has no place in the eyes of the Lord; He has "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future" (Jeremiah 29:11).
My advice? Monitor your heart, your mind, and your spirit. Watch the words you say, the thoughts you think, the emotions you feel. Stray from greed and focus on His grace. The rest will fall into place.
"Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen." -- Ephesians 3:20-21
Monday, January 7, 2013
Confession #8: I am rabbit-hearted.
Sometimes I am utterly stunned by how tender my heart can be. How emotional I get, how heavy a toll life's softest blows can have on my well-being, how hard it is for me to let go of the people and factors of my life that I grasp onto with my whole heart. I've been advised to take a more reasonable approach and think with my head, but I can't resist following my heart. I always have and I like to think that I always will. I don't care for logical thinking, I don't favor practicality, and I don't see a sensibility in going through life with a view so black and white. I immerse myself in the 'what if' -- the grey area that slips between the cracks, the hopeful and sincere thought of the possibilities of life. The good, the bad, the heartfelt. Over the past two months, I've come to the somewhat shocking realization that I am not as tough as I have always believed.
Throughout middle school, I was not a pleasant person. I don't really remember why or how I got to be so cold, but the friends who have stuck by my side for the past nearly 8 years serve as a daily reminder that I am blessed to have eventually grown out of that persona. Even in high school, I was known as the girl with thick skin. The girl with a quick mind, who could take it from you and dish it right back. The girl whose fuse was easily lit but slow to burn out. I've experienced numerous things throughout the past 19 years that I would never wish on a person. Familial challenges, heartbreak, uncertainty, and emotional damage that I've worked to (at least begin to) repair. But I've come out on the other end a much happier person. When you get down to it, life truly is beautiful. It's so repetitive yet so spontaneous. So permanent yet so fleeting. So challenging but so immensely inspiring that it's virtually impossible for me to maintain a bad mood for anything more than a few hours.
It has recently come to my attention, though, that my heart is much more tender than I thought. Since I moved to Missouri, I have had to quickly educate myself on the how-to's of adulthood. Living 11 hours away from everything I've ever known, attempting to reinvent myself to a group of people who thankfully cannot use any irrelevant factors of my previous life in Texas to my disadvantage, paying my own way through daily life, maintaining a job while going to school full-time and keeping a 4.0, making independent decisions with consequences that fall on my shoulders and my shoulders only. It's been a crazy, amazing, fulfilling ride, and I still have 3 years left. In such a short amount of time, I've already learned that rejection's sting can be just as permanent even if the journey is crammed into a shorter period. I've learned how college changes people, regardless of the amount of love you attempt to pour into them day by day. I've learned that ignorance is not bliss in most circumstances, but rather power lies in knowledge and understanding. I've learned the insufficiency of second chances in the hands of those who are repetitively disappointing. I've learned that a focus on short-term fulfillment leads to a road of long-term solidarity. I've learned the importance of community, both in the friend and family sense. Most importantly, I've learned that the only being in this entire world that will ever treat me the way I deserve to be treated 100% of the time, make me feel adored and appreciated every single day, and stand by my side no matter the circumstance, is my Lord. He is so good in every way possible. I have yet to find a man at Mizzou whose spiritual life is strong enough to spark my interest, but I hope to soon. Rejection wears heavily on my heart, and I'm doing my best to pour myself into Him so that He will show me His plans for my future in whatever means necessary.
So, despite the advice of my peers, I wear my heart on my sleeve every day. I'm often told that I'm simply sending out invitations for disappointment, but I refuse to hide such an honest part of myself that is so naive and delicate. There are many days where my heart is heavier than I would like to admit. It's scary to be so open with people, but I believe that our hearts are meant to be put on display. The heart is the sole pump of life throughout our anatomy. Without it, we would not exist. We would be cold, lifeless, and irrelevant. Such a noble organ with such a crucial duty shouldn't be hidden.
Life is a risk. It's scary and thrilling and one giant leap of faith. So put it all out there. Lay it all down. Show the world what you're made of. You'll get hurt in the process, I promise you that. But one day, maybe even in the smallest way, you'll realize that it was all worth it. That all of the disappointment and all of the despair and all of the departure and all of the devastation was completely worth your while.
I'm not gonna worry
I know that You've got me
Right inside the palm of Your hand
Each and every moment
What's good and what gets broken
Happens just the way You planned
Throughout middle school, I was not a pleasant person. I don't really remember why or how I got to be so cold, but the friends who have stuck by my side for the past nearly 8 years serve as a daily reminder that I am blessed to have eventually grown out of that persona. Even in high school, I was known as the girl with thick skin. The girl with a quick mind, who could take it from you and dish it right back. The girl whose fuse was easily lit but slow to burn out. I've experienced numerous things throughout the past 19 years that I would never wish on a person. Familial challenges, heartbreak, uncertainty, and emotional damage that I've worked to (at least begin to) repair. But I've come out on the other end a much happier person. When you get down to it, life truly is beautiful. It's so repetitive yet so spontaneous. So permanent yet so fleeting. So challenging but so immensely inspiring that it's virtually impossible for me to maintain a bad mood for anything more than a few hours.
It has recently come to my attention, though, that my heart is much more tender than I thought. Since I moved to Missouri, I have had to quickly educate myself on the how-to's of adulthood. Living 11 hours away from everything I've ever known, attempting to reinvent myself to a group of people who thankfully cannot use any irrelevant factors of my previous life in Texas to my disadvantage, paying my own way through daily life, maintaining a job while going to school full-time and keeping a 4.0, making independent decisions with consequences that fall on my shoulders and my shoulders only. It's been a crazy, amazing, fulfilling ride, and I still have 3 years left. In such a short amount of time, I've already learned that rejection's sting can be just as permanent even if the journey is crammed into a shorter period. I've learned how college changes people, regardless of the amount of love you attempt to pour into them day by day. I've learned that ignorance is not bliss in most circumstances, but rather power lies in knowledge and understanding. I've learned the insufficiency of second chances in the hands of those who are repetitively disappointing. I've learned that a focus on short-term fulfillment leads to a road of long-term solidarity. I've learned the importance of community, both in the friend and family sense. Most importantly, I've learned that the only being in this entire world that will ever treat me the way I deserve to be treated 100% of the time, make me feel adored and appreciated every single day, and stand by my side no matter the circumstance, is my Lord. He is so good in every way possible. I have yet to find a man at Mizzou whose spiritual life is strong enough to spark my interest, but I hope to soon. Rejection wears heavily on my heart, and I'm doing my best to pour myself into Him so that He will show me His plans for my future in whatever means necessary.
So, despite the advice of my peers, I wear my heart on my sleeve every day. I'm often told that I'm simply sending out invitations for disappointment, but I refuse to hide such an honest part of myself that is so naive and delicate. There are many days where my heart is heavier than I would like to admit. It's scary to be so open with people, but I believe that our hearts are meant to be put on display. The heart is the sole pump of life throughout our anatomy. Without it, we would not exist. We would be cold, lifeless, and irrelevant. Such a noble organ with such a crucial duty shouldn't be hidden.
Life is a risk. It's scary and thrilling and one giant leap of faith. So put it all out there. Lay it all down. Show the world what you're made of. You'll get hurt in the process, I promise you that. But one day, maybe even in the smallest way, you'll realize that it was all worth it. That all of the disappointment and all of the despair and all of the departure and all of the devastation was completely worth your while.
I'm not gonna worry
I know that You've got me
Right inside the palm of Your hand
Each and every moment
What's good and what gets broken
Happens just the way You planned
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)