A Letter to Friends Who Don't Share My Faith

Dear Friend,

I have something to say that might come as a surprise to you: You don't have to believe for me to be okay. Yes, you heard me right. You don't have to share my faith for me to be okay. Do I want you to share my faith? Do I pray for your salvation? Yes. But your belief or lack thereof does not effect my salvation.

You see, my friend. Christ died for all. His substitutionary atonement is sufficient to cover all of my sin and reconcile me to him. My salvation depends not on my proselytizing you or winning you to salvation, but on His finished work.

Sure, your lack of faith may cause me distress. I want to share eternity with you! My connection with Christ does not depend on your salvation, though. It depends on the presence of the Holy Spirit, which God the Father gifted me at the moment of my conversion.

What do I see as my job, then? I want to share the truth with you in love (Ephesian 4:15). I want to, with God's help, live out a faithful life before you. I want to allow God to comfort me when my heart hurts because you don't believe.

What don't I want to do? Take out my distress on you. Make you think that you have to believe to somehow pacify me or up my accolades in the kingdom. My faith is my faith. If you choose to believe on Jesus for salvation, your faith will be your faith. 

Our friendship, I believe, is because Christ put us in each other's paths. Will it be for your salvation? I sure hope so. But if it isn't, I still value you. I believe that you are a unique creation of God, saved or unsaved, and I want you in my life.

Inspired by:

Chef Kibby. (Host). (2025, February 12). Escaping the distress cycle. (No. 5) [Audio podcast]. In Hungry for connection. https://chefkibby.com/podcast/episode-05-escaping-the-distress-cycle

I've Gotten Bigger.

I've gotten bigger. No, not more muscular. I don't think that's really in the cards for me (or in my genetics). Rather, I am learning to take up space in the world--not to take space from others, but to take up my own space. Let me explain.

For some reason, it always seemed "better" to me to take up less space, be smaller, operate on minimum resources, cow-tow to those around me. Maybe it was pride. Maybe it was fear. Maybe it was both. But I was always trying to be less; make less of a splash, and do more on less. Running is teaching me the opposite, that it is good to use resources, to take up space.

"I spent x dollars on more running snacks," I told my husband after a recent Costco trip.

"So?" He didn't bat an eye. I'm not used to buying so much extra food to support my running, and I felt a bit guilty about it. He didn't seem to care. Another day, I noted that our grocery budget was going up due to all I was eating. "So, you run more, you eat more," he said (or something like that). To him, it was no big deal that I needed more resources. To me, it felt presumptuous. I was taking more from us, and I knew if I did less, I would need less. At the same time, I hated to give up on my big running goals just because I was unwilling to use resources and take up space.

Endurance running takes up not only resource space, but time space. It takes time from other leisure activities. It takes time from my husband. Sometimes, it requires me to reconfigure my work schedule. I've felt bad about all taking up space in all of these areas, but if the people in my life support me, why do I feel guilty for making use of the opportunities they give me? I really do want to see what I can do!

Running has been an avenue for learning, not the only one, but a wide one. I am still learning what it means to take up my space in the world humbly, to use resources well, to give thanks, and so much more. I'm getting bigger, bolder, braver, and I hope, in the Lord's strength stronger to ask for what I need and use it for my good and His glory. May whatever space I take up in the world always point to him.

Acting Differently

I think I finally resolved all my car accident stuff. I think. I hope. It was a lot of back and forth between doctors, and insurance agents, and other insurance agents. Quite honestly, it was frustrating, even infuriating at times, but I think it's over. I hope.

Resolving the car accident settlement required being in a conference call between the insurance agent and a doctor's office. The providers weren't very polite to each other. I felt uncomfortable. I don't like rudeness. I tried not to be rude on my dealings with them, though I sometimes felt rude.

I finally got the paperwork. I signed it. I settled my case. (I hope. I pray. I think.) And then I found myself angry, really angry. In my flesh, I wished I had demanded more of the insurance company. I have spent a lot of time on this. Doesn't that count for something? I wanted to write a scathing review of a provider that I did not think served me well. I would not recommend them to others. I was so frustrated! And yet I felt convicted. Convicted that I had done the right thing by asking for coverage of my medical expenses, but not pain and suffering. Convicted that writing a bad review of a provider would not be Christlike. Convicted that I am supposed to "conduct [myself] in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ" (New International Version, 2011, Phil 1:27). I think sometimes I think that is easy. It's not.

I am not here to preach about what is right or wrong in dealings with the world. I am just here to share that though I want to live in a way that elevates Jesus, living like Him is not easy. It's a lot easier to live like the world, living for myself and my desires. To do otherwise is to fight myself, and often, to fight hard.

I think I finally resolved all my car accident stuff. I think. I hope. I pray. And I pray that I might have witnessed to the power of the gospel in the process, because it was only Christ in me that kept me from acting differently, and yet differently in a way that I pray could only point to something supernatural.

Reference:

New International Version. (2011). Bible Gateway. https://www.biblegateway.com/versions/New-International-Version-NIV-Bible/

There’s a Right Way, and There’s a Wrong Way.

My husband and I are in the process of figuring out how to share the messy parts of life with one another. We’ll probably be in that process until Jesus returns or calls us home. I don’t think people talk about this part of life enough, so though, for what’s it’s worth, here’s what I’ve learned so far.

Life is messy. I have a lot of emotions about a lot of things. I can try to stuff them or hide them, but it doesn’t work. They eventually come out. Therefore, it behooves me to share them. It helps if I take a few deep breaths and pray before doing so, but after that, I generally need to release. Otherwise, my emotions pile up, growing things like roots of bitterness that I don’t want to prosper.

There is a right way and a wrong way for me to share my feelings, though, or maybe I should say that in the plural: right and wrong ways. I can tell my husband how I feel, or accuse him of making me feel that way (or not caring that I feel a certain way). I can acknowledge that he might have feelings, too, or I can dismiss his feelings as I am overwhelmed with my own. I try to choose the former rather than the latter options. I’m not perfect at it, but I try.

Why share my feelings at all, though? I don’t want to just spill my sewage into my husband’s life (an analogy I borrowed from Gary Chapman’s book). I need to share because God calls us to live in community. He made us that way. In marriage, my husband becomes my closest community, so he needs to know what’s going on with me. Biblically, he is my head, too, and as he pointed out one night recently during a tough conversation, he’s responsible for my soul in some ways. He can’t care for my soul if I don’t share with him it’s state. There is also the thing of bringing truths to light. I have plenty of anxieties and fears, and yes, some of them have to do with my marriage and my husband. It’s not his fault that I have them, but when I don’t share them with him, they grow. Conversely, when I share, and bring them to light, he can help correct the lies I believe and shepherd me towards truth. That process often makes both of us frustrated, but in the end, it is beneficial.

Marriage is a growing process. We don’t have it all figured out. We’ll always be on the journey towards Christlikeness. We’re learning lots and have lots more to learn. There are right ways and wrong ways in marriage, and ultimately, we want to choose His way, because He is the Way.

Reference:

Chapman, G. (2007). Now you're speaking my language: Honest communication and deeper intimacy for a stronger marriage. B&H Publishing Group.

Why I Sometimes Choose to Do Hard Things

I have to do hard things, like things I am not good at. Sometimes they're just a flop. Sometimes I fail, like really fail.  Sometimes I surprise myself and actually succeed. But I have to do them. Why? In short, It's good for me.

I always need to be learning and growing and progressing. (If I don't, I'm stagnant.) Hard things require me to risk a little, to reach further. I'm not saying that I try to be a pro. I'm just trying to grow.

I need fun in my life. I need to play. I need to be silly, to be an amateur. Life is so serious. There are plenty of hard, hard things that I don't choose. Choosing a few hard things...for fun is a good reminder that hard things are not all bad.

I am also a terrible perfectionist. Try as I might to grow out of it, it always crops up its ugly head. Trying hard things, and failing, forces me to practice my coping skills. It forces me to accept the imperfections. Sometimes my trying really yields an okay result, but I am not satisfied. I have to learn to live with this reality. There is room for self-critique, and growth, but sometimes, I just need to accept things.

So when it comes to hard things, what kind of things am I talking about? Here's a short list of some hard things that I choose to do for my own good (or at least most of the time, for my own good):

• Training for and running races
• The monthly baking challenge from Sally's Baking Recipes
• Weekly Yogi See Yogi Do Crew poses
• Writing (e.g. this blog)

I am not really good at any of these things. In fact, all of them expose my imperfections. All of them grow me, too though (at least right now). I get some joy out of these hard things. When I nail them (or get close-remember, there isn't perfect), I am ecstatic. And hopefully, the world gets something out of watching me, and God gets the glory for that. After all, Christ chose to do the hardest thing, die on the cross for the sins of the world, out of love. That's a kind of love worth emulating, worth choosing, but SO hard!

What Do I Want More?

There are a lot of things in life that I want. Those things take resources: time, money, relationship investment, etc. Conversely, there are a lot of things that I don't want to do, but that lead to something I do want. In both scenarios, I have to ask, "What do I want more?"

When it comes to limited resources, I have to prioritize. There is enough time...for everything that is priority. I can do anything, but not everything. So sometimes I have to choose if I want to go for that run, or sleep. Sometimes I have to choose if I want to make a fancy dinner, or just eat simply so I can do something else. I have to decide if I want down time, or people time. With the time I have, what do I want most?

Money does not grow on trees, I mean the paper does, but the money doesn't. I can't just reach out and pick it. This is why we budget. We try to direct our money, first toward what we need (housing, food, utilities, etc.), and then toward what we want. We even have budget categories for our own wants, one for each of us individually, a vacation fun, and a date night fund. When times are scarce, those categories get less (or no) money, but when we can, we contribute. Even then, we have to decided what we want to do more with the money, because it is not endless.

There are lots of lovely people in the world, but not time to be close to them all. I also have a spouse. When it comes down to limited time and energy, what do I want more? A close marriage? Close friends? A lot of friends? Sometimes with people, the answer is not clear cut. Still, I have to ask, "What do I want more?"

Some things in life take work, too. I don't often want to clean the house, but I want the house to be tidy. I don't want to cook a ton of food on Friday for meal prep, but I want to eat during the week. I don't want to get up early to fuel before I run, but I'll feel better if I do. For that matter, I don't always want to work hard in training for my races, but I benefit if I do. In those hard moments, I have to ask myself what I really want more.

Asking, "What do I want more?" pertains to faith, too. Following God is rarely easy. Do I want my will, or his will? In my marriage, do I want my way, or God's way? When it comes to my work, do I want to do what I think, or what the Spirit tells me? Do I want disobedience or obedience more? Maybe a better question is, "What does God want more?"

I can't have it all. What do I want more? What more is right in this season might not be right in the next. I need wisdom. I need God's wisdom. Ultimately, I want His more for my life, and that requires continually asking for and seeking it.

Acting "As If"

I have a hard time trusting my husband. It is not that he is not trustworthy-he is. I just struggle to trust anyone. Although I know in my head that I am very needy, I am also a rugged individualist and want to do everything for myself. Top it all off with a fear of others disappointing me, and I get trust issues.

My husband said to me the other day, though, "I don't care if you trust me. Act as if." He did not take my trust struggles personally. He just gave me feedback about how to act. I appreciated that. No judgment. No emotional reaction. Just the facts.

I did not want to trust my husband that day, but I did, or at least I followed his advice to act "as if." It was not easy, but neither was trying to stand in solidarity. Since that time, I have tried acting "as if" a few more times, and you know what? It works!

I don't often feel like trusting. I don't often feel like doing a lot of things, for that matter, but sometimes I know the right thing and I just have to do it. I have to act as if until the feelings come, or don't come. I just have to act and keep going.

I don't know what you're going through, friend, but maybe you need to act "as if." Maybe you need to stand on faith rather than on fear. Maybe you need to follow facts over feeling. I know it is hard. Believe me. But it's worth it. Good things come to those who wait. Good things come to those who act.

Dear 2020

Dear 2020,

You have not been the year we'd dreamed you'd be. And you're not over yet. I didn't expect your year to be easy, but I had vision, goals. After all, 2020 is perfect vision, right? So far, it seems you have been anything but.

My word for 2020 was faithful. The end of 2019 was challenging and I felt unprepared for all 2020 would throw at me (even before COVID). I wanted to be faithful in what was set before me, though. Faithful to God. Faithful to my husband. Faithful in my work. Faithful to challenge myself and have some adventures. Well, let's just say 2020, you have been giving me a run for my money.

This year has been one of the hardest years of my faith yet. Maybe it is because I am finally feeling my feelings instead of dissociating from them. Maybe it is because I have been separated from people who helped keep my faith on track. I don't know. It's just been hard. I've felt so guilty for my selfishness. I've wondered if my seeming inability to get over my selfishness means I am not saved or incapable of being saved. I have had many dark days and nights. I have struggled with hopelessness. I try to keep up with spiritual disciplines like prayer and Bible reading, but even those sometimes seem empty. Faith full? I'd say not. Faithful, as in walking with what I believe? Maybe in action, but often not in words to myself or my emotions.

I knew marriage would be hard, but boy is it! Not because I married a hard person, but because I am a hard person. Marriage constantly exposes my selfishness. I find myself angry at or with the man I love far too often to count. I don't approach marriage as team. I try to go it alone too much of the time, and then get ridiculously needy. Have I been faithful to my husband? Yes. He feels like family now more than ever! Have I been faithful to my marriage, committed to improving it? In some ways yes. In some ways, no. I definitely don't get an A grade.

Work, well, it's always been hard, but this round especially. Balancing marriage and work has been more than I bargained for (still on my side, not my husband's). I wanted to be faithful, though, to put in my time and hours well, and leave the rest up to the Lord. Then came COVID and move to online work. I am still working, but faithfully? Most days are a struggle and I pray for strength to get through.

Adventures, oh adventures. I signed up for two big races (to me!) this year and was more aggressively training than ever before. Then one and both got cancelled. I quit running for a month. I haven't quite picked back up where I left off. To be honest, my body continues to show signs of stress and strain and I don't want running to add to it. I miss the races and tangible goals, though. Maybe someday. Whether I am being faithful to adventures and faithful to my body and its needs is up for debate.

Perfect vision? Nah. 2020 hasn't been a year for that, at least according to my vision. It has been a year for seeing myself and my sin more clearly. It has been a year of realizing more and more how much I need Jesus and salvation. Have I been faithful? No, well not as much as I wanted to be, could be, or should be. But this year is showing me how much I need faith, and need to be full of faith. And if that's what life is all about, maybe 2020 is a year that will help me see more clearly after all. 

*This post was inspired by Debra Fileta's August 28th Instagram post.

Walk in Obedience.

No lie. Life has been hard lately. First it was the move and a new job and all those stressors. Then it was the pandemic and the shutdowns, and then more shutdowns; fears and worries and lack of fellowship, new mandates. Now there's the ongoing stress of not knowing what is to come, coupled with the residual effects of angst not fully processed. I am tired. I question how to be faithful, how to go on. Don't get me wrong. I want to be faithful, but it's just so hard sometimes.

I define faithfulness for myself as genuineness, staying true to who I am, staying true to the Lord, staying committed to my husband, exercising caution and care, staying in my lane, and ultimately, just being responsible with the things put in front of me. But that's part of the hard. The responsibilities I have right seem so many and weigh heavily on me. I often don't feel like I know where to turn or what to do next. I heard a podcast recently about faithfulness, though. The speakers defined faithfulness as "an outcome of obedience." What if faithfulness is a lot simpler than I've been thinking? What if faithfulness means one thing instead of many things? What if I can just obey God and everything else will follow? Decisions in life might be a whole lot easier!

But how do I obey God? Is that nebulous, too? Well, God gave me His word, the Bible, and it is sound and right in front of me. Some of its commandments are pretty clear:

-"Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength....Love your neighbor as yourself" (Mark 12:30-31, New International Version [NIV]).

-"Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight" (Prov 3:5-6).

-"Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus" (1 Thess 5:16-18).

I think faithfulness is right in front of me. I think faithfulness is right within me through the indwelling Holy Spirit. I think I've been over complicating things, and faithfulness is simply walking in obedience to God and letting the chips fall. Obedience doesn't make life easy, but it gives me a clear path to follow. That path is not my own, but God's, and His way is the best. Always has been. Always will be. Praise Him.

There is Enough.

"As thy days, so shall thy strength be" (Deut 33:25, King James Version).

Even before COVID 19, I felt like I was living in a season where there never seemed to be enough. There never seemed to be enough time, energy, cooked food, gas in the car, friends, connections, times to think, insight, etc. I say there seemed because there really was enough. I could choose to cut things out of my schedule to make time for what was important. We had plenty of food, just maybe not what I wanted to eat. I could fill up my car at any old gas station. I had friends, even if they dwell far away. God was opening up opportunities for connection if I only looked for them. I could choose to shut off some noise in my life (the radio, social media, etc.) and commit to reflection. 

Then COVID-19 hit. I couldn't find staples like rice and beans and carrots at the grocery store. (Why carrots were in short supply, I don't know.) There was no toilet paper on the shelves. Work got busier. My mind got more crowded with anxiety and worry and fear. I worried about my health and the health of my loved ones. I wondered how I would survive in such a season of lack. I expressed my anxieties to my husband, wanting him to sympathize, and his in his wisdom said, "Has God always provided?"

"Yes, but..."

He cut me off. "Then I can't join you."

He was right. God has always provided, and He always will. The issue with my feelings of scarcity is really my mindset. God is Provider. There is enough. There is enough time. There is enough energy. There are enough resources. 

For what God calls me to do and how He calls me to live. <----- And that is the kicker.

I don't have time or energy or resources for anything other than what God has laid out for me. Neither do you. Maybe in this season of life my sphere of influence is small, mostly in my own home. Maybe it's the same for you. But in this season, even with COVID-19, God's portion is enough. His grace is sufficient for me (2 Cor 12:9). And it is for you, if you believe. His strength is sufficient for you, if you believe, if I believe. 

God is Enough. May we have faith to live out of that truth.

Who's Being Unfair?

I woke up the other day feeling so tired and worn out. Life felt so unfair, like it was always throwing at me more than I could handle. Like I had too many responsibilities and too much to do. But then I felt the Still, Small Voice speak: “If you’re saying life’s unfair, who’s being unfair? God?”
I was immediately convicted. Oswald Chambers writes in My Utmost for His Highest, “To discuss or deliberate over spiritual matters when God calls is inappropriate and disrespectful to Him” (December 22). I have so, so many of the things I’ve always wanted, and I need to be thankful, so thankful. But I wasn't. And in telling myself life was unfair, I was debating God and his denying His goodness. I don’t want to do that. “Belief is not the result of an intellectual act, but the result of an act of my will whereby I deliberately commit myself,” Chambers later writes. So if I believe that God is good, I need to make a commitment to acknowledging and stop believing the lies. If anything is unfair, it was the sacrifice of Christ’s life for mine. What I deserve is death and damnation. Yet God was merciful and offered Jesus to pay my for sin. That is reason in and of itself to be eternally grateful!

So in the strength of the Spirit, I’ll go in believing. I’ll go on trusting. I’ll start, by God’s grace, giving thanks and being grateful more. I believe. May I, by the Holy Spirit’s power, will my thoughts and actions to align.

He Had More Faith Than I Did

When we started this whole moving journey, I was in favor of exploring options, of seeing what a move might look like. But when the pieces started to fall into place, I got scared. I didn’t believe. My husband, on the other hand, had faith.
I didn’t believe the condo deal would go through. He kept saying he was confident it would. When I couldn’t transfer with my job like I thought I could, I was confident that I could find a new job. But when we decided to turn down one job offer to wait for a second interview at a place we felt was a better fit, I worried. He kept telling me the company wouldn’t ask for a second interview if they weren’t serious. I wasn’t even sure about the job after the second interview, but he reassured me. Here we are, three months after this whole thing started, living in the only condo we offered on, with me working at the job we chose as best. God is good.
A dear friend told me that we need to pray for our husbands to lead well, because sometimes their leadership is all we need to walk in faith. Her words were wise. My husband had more faith than I did. And maybe he always has. Maybe that is part of the reason God, in His goodness, gave him to me.

Last Christmas, I Gave You My Heart

Christmas time last year was a season of intense wrestling for me. We started dating shortly before Thanksgiving came around, and then came all the Christmas festivities. What did we do? How did we do it? What were our boundaries? Who knew and didn't know that we'd started dating? How did we respond to the onlookers? There were so many questions! And yet the question in my heart was, "Do I love this man?"

I'd had the fleeting conviction at some point, "If you loved him, you'd do..." I pushed the thought out of my mind, thinking I couldn't possible love someone after only a few weeks of dating. But the thought kept returning. I, in my chronic anxiousness, searched for and read every article (anecdotal blog, research study, relationship column) etc. about when to say, "I love you." They pretty much all said it was too soon. And yet I felt it. And the love only grew the more time I spent with him. After the wedding of some friends last December 15th, I journaled:

I expected falling in love to be a little more sparky, a little more overwhelming, a little more...uncomfortable, I guess. But it's not. Rather, it's a deep seated settledness that this is the right person for me at this time of my life. It's a feeling of safety and security and an ability to be myself and be accepted. It's seeing other attractive people and deciding my history with this person is not worth throwing away. It's having a person in my life who I legitimately want to spend time with, and could see spending the rest of my life with. It's always wanting to learn more about this person. It's knowing this person isn't perfect and having the ability to accept it. It's believing that this relationship is worth giving up my life to make a new life with another person. It's respect and admiration and acceptance. It's confronting hard issues because this relationship matters.

But falling in love is also fun and having warm fuzzies and sharing activities. It's inviting each other into one another's lives. It's compliments and teasing and silliness. It's shared dreams and aspirations. It's finding out about each other's likes and dislikes and deal breakers. It's a commitment to go deeper and see what else lies there.

Falling in love is a little scary, and for me, happened a little quicker than I would have thought. And it happened without much of a conscious decision on my part. But it's where God has me, and I will follow Him into it.

Note I didn't write my to-be husband's name anywhere in this entry. I really didn't know if this relationship would last. And yet I knew if I wanted to walk in faith, I needed to tell Chris how I felt. The question was, "How?"

I sat on my feelings for several week, and eventually decided I wouldn't get the words, "I love you," out of my mouth quickly, so I'd better write them. So one day after church, I sat down with a pen and paper and wrote a letter. I agonized over it. I tried to explain what love meant to me. I tried to explain that I wasn't trying to force Chris into something he wasn't ready for. I tried not to have expectations, but in the end, I wrote the words, "I love you." Then I sealed up the letter and put it someplace safe. I decided to give the letter to Chris on Christmas Eve.

Christmas Eve 2018, I felt anxious. I felt nauseous. We had a big Christmas Eve party to attend, and the thought of so many people together at one time made me nervous. Add to that the fact that most hadn't seen me with Chris before. But then the letter. I thought about not giving it to Chris. But then I knew I'd just be sitting on my feelings for longer. And they were painful enough already.

So Christmas Eve 2018, after the party and after Chris came over and opened our one traditional family gift, I walked outside with him and thrust the envelope into his hands. "Read this when you get home," I said.  And he left.

As he drove away, I felt relief, and yet fear. I'd just given my heart away on paper, and I had no idea how Chris would respond, or if he'd even read the letter. But I also knew I'd done what I had to do, and I had to leave it at that. 

I promised myself I wouldn't ask about the letter after I'd given it. I promised myself to just enjoy the next day when Chris came over to spend Christmas with my family. I promised myself I would let him bring it up if and when he wanted. No one knew about the letter, not my parents or my friends, or anyone. It was just me and Chris, if Chris had read the letter.

Time elapsed and things felt a bit awkward at points, but I kept my promise to myself. At some point, Chris and I went for a walk, leaving my parents behind. We walked silently almost the whole way, and then right before my house, on the downhill, he touched my arm.

"Stop for a minute." He said. "I read your letter. And I love you, too."

I don't remember what happened after that. Maybe I just stood there in shock. Maybe we talked more. Maybe we hugged. Whatever the case, we eventually continued walking and made it back to my parents' house. We didn't say anything about our exchange to my parents, either, but I felt lighter. So much lighter. God continued to write our story, and as you've seen if you've read this blog long, we married this past June.

That's my love story for Christmas. But it is in light of the God gave the greatest gift of love in His Son Jesus, born on Christmas Day. It is because of Him that we ultimately celebrate and love and say to all,

"Merry Christmas!"

Amazing

Someone told me recently that I'm pretty amazing. It was a nice compliment and one I really appreciated. But I had to caveat my reply by saying it's taken me a long time to get here.

I would never wish my struggles or pain or trauma or life experiences on anyone. I should also say that I haven't experienced a lot of the pains of life that others I know have. But my experiences are my experiences and I don't believe in comparing. God allowed me to my trials and took me through them, and I am SO thankful, but they still hurt.

Those who know me well know I've struggled with perfectionism and self hatred and self destruction. Those who have walked with me for a time know how hard it's been for me to focus on pleasing God instead of pleasing others. Those who've been in my life have watched me as I've fought to be honest with myself and others about what's really going on. They've seen me scream and cry and withdraw and fight. They've seen me struggle and stumble and grow.

I am where I am because of a ton of God's marvelous grace that I didn't deserve. I'm here because God saw fit to preserve my life even when I didn't see a purpose for it. I'm here because a lot of people fought for me by going to their knees. I'm here because of a lot of people who loved me when I was very unlovable.

Yes, I've had to put in some work of my own in this life, too. I've had to be accountable and go to therapy and practice self-discipline and confront sin and ask for help. But all I've done and the person I am really aren't what I'd call amazing. God's the amazing one and He gets ALL the glory! 

Who I Serve and Where I'm Going

Arizona lost a public servant this past Saturday. Regardless of political or religious party, I think it's hard to argue that John McCain was anything but a servant. He was first a member of the United States military, then a POW, a senator, and a presidential candidate. As Arizona and the nation have mourned his loss, I have seen his likeness and life story posted everywhere. And the one burning question I have is, "I wonder where he is now."

John McCain was not overtly religious. He was more about politics than asserting his personal beliefs. But he is still a human with a destiny, and I hope He is with Jesus.

McCain's daughter Meghan posted the following on Instagram and it gives me some hope:

But in my mind, stating that McCain is with the "Author of All Things" still does not make it clear what he believed. It's not my place to judge, it's just that I care where he went.

As I've reflected on the uncertainty of McCain's whereabouts, I've thought about my own life. I am not always open about what I believe, nor overtly expressive about whom I serve. I have faith in God through the Lord Jesus Christ, but I'm not shouting that from the street corners. I believe that I'll go to heaven because of what Christ did on the cross to pay for my sins, but I don't want to beat people over the head with it. Rather than advertising my faith on back of my t-shirt or the rear window of my car, I hope live in a way that demonstrates Who I worship and where I'm going. 

Whenever I go, I want people to know that I serve Jesus 

and that my forever home is in heaven. 

May the Holy Spirit continue His work in me to make that truth evident.

Self-Love and the Christian Faith

Some time ago, I wrote about self-care and selfishness. Since then, I've see a lot of Instagram posts and blog articles about self-love. there have been other articles about how people don't need to love themselves, but rather accept themselves and where they're at. In all this, I've started to wonder how self-love intersects with my Christian faith. I don't want to idolize myself, but I don't want to fail to care for the body God has given me either. I don't want to be a self-centered glutton, or an ascetic. What is the balance?

In a sermon on 1 John 4:7-8 this weekend, the pastor reminded us that love originates from God. Boom! All of this self-love stuff started to find its place in my heart. Love for self that comes from God and an appreciation of how fearfully and wonderfully He made me (Ps 139:14) is profitable. Love for self that comes from a desire to serve myself and ignore the needs of others is self-centered (Phil 2:3-4). Love for self that includes honoring rest and the needs of the body God gave me is beneficial because it places myself and God in the correct positions (Ps 46:10). Love for self that is for my own gain is sinful and unedifying to those around me (Ps 119:36). Failing to love either myself or others is failing to acknowledge the source of love in God.

Scripture does it again and sets my wrong heart aright. Now may the Holy Spirit help me practice love for self and others in the right fashion.

The Most Important Thing

"Is your faith important to you?" The man at worked asked me.

"Yes, I replied."

"Is it the most important thing?" He queried.

Fumbling for a minute, I replied, "Yes, I guess it is."

I'd just never thought of my faith that way. I'd thought of my faith as innate, as vital to my identity, as important, but I guess I'd never thought of it as the "most important." I guess I'd never pondered what was "the most important thing" in my life. I'd just lived.

But now that I've had my co-worker's prompt, I've begun to examine why my faith is the most important thing in my life. It's my foundation, the reason I exist, the reason I have hope. It's the reason I can do the work I do, how I cope. I believe someone bigger (GOD) is in control. 

My faith is internal through the dwelling of the Holy Spirit. But it's also external, and should be visible in how I live my life, in how I practice my profession, in the way I interact with others. And that should show.

Is my faith perfect? Is my expression of it perfect? No, but I want to work at it. And that's also part of why my faith is most important, because it motivates me to become better, not to earn my salvation or eternal life, but to be more like Jesus. Because HE is the most important person that died for my sins to save my soul and give me this faith. And He lived a life that showed His most important faith by his actions.

What about you? What's the most important thing in your life? Please share below.

Yoga Revolution (Yoga with Adriene) Review

I wrote earlier about my experience with 30 Days of Yoga. I enjoyed that journey, the mental discipline, the time-management, the body practice. And now I've completed another journey: The 31 Day Yoga Revolution with Adriene Mischler. I learned about Yoga with Adriene from a friend who posted lovely photos of her yoga journey on Instagram. After a month off daily yoga practice (goodbye February), I wanted to get back into it. So I signed up.

Let's just say I wasn't a fan. Adriene's yoga is slower and more meditative. Hatha style, not vinyasa. Strength, not stamina focused. Adriene talks a lot. About things other than yoga. She's silly, and sometimes inappropriate, borderline crude. She's way into self-love. And maybe to an unhealthy extent. I found myself unhappy, frustrated after sessions. I started adding ten minutes of Fitness Blender before the yoga. (These videos are shorter than many of Do Yoga With Me's challenges.) That helped a little. But I still found myself angsty.

I completed the final day of the challenge last Friday, and I was grateful. I have to admit that video surprised me a little, though. Adriene didn't talk and just practiced. I had to really watch to follow. I had to focus. This practice contained more flows. More chatarunga. I liked the music in the background. At the end, I finally got into crow (only for a few seconds, but it still counts). I left feeling strong and proud and happy. I think that's what Adriene wanted for her yogis.

So did I enjoy the 31 Day Yoga Revolution? No, not really. Will I continue with another of Adriene's challenges? (Hello, 30 Days of Yoga or Yoga Camp.) Probably not. Yoga with Adriene is not my style. But I still learned from this experience. I practiced discipline. I processed frustration. I got stronger. I let myself feel.

It's okay to dislike. It's okay for something to not be my thing. But what's important is working through the struggle and discomfort, accepting them, accepting myself in the process. That's the revolution.

Suicide.

Let's just go there. I've been there (or at least to the ideation stage). Now someone I love is there, with intent and a plan. And far too many other people have been there, and lost there lives there.

What brings people to suicide? Desperation. Despair. Hopelessness. Depression. That last one is where I want to focus. If you're depressed, GET HELP!

I expressed some pretty severe depression in my teenage years. I felt completely hopeless, as if life didn't have a purpose, as if there was no reason to live. I didn't have a plan to commit suicide, but I didn't have a reason to go on living, either.

In my case, I was under 18. My parents (without my permission or cooperation) got me help. They took me to doctors and put me on medication and introduced me to therapy (the profession I now pursue). The drugs retrained my brain chemicals to function properly. The therapy taught me life skills. It took a long time and a lot of pain, but I got better. I learned that suicide is not an out, not an answer. 

Suicide doesn't yield the life the person wants, and it makes life miserable for everyone else. And let's just be a little gruesome here: No matter what path a person chooses for suicide, there is always cleanup. Always. And that's a terrible job to have to do.

So back to the depression piece. Are you depressed? It's serious! Get help before things deteriorate to where you can't go on living. See your doctor. (Maybe your depression is as simple as a hormone or nutritional imbalance. But maybe it's not.) Call on a friend. Ask your pastor for prayer. Go to counseling. Learn life skills.

Already suicidal? GET HELP! Call the suicide hotline (1-800-273-8255). Go to the ER. Tell a friend your struggles. It can get better. It will get better. But you have to reach out.

Romans 5:3-5 says, "Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope." Depression is suffering. Medication often leads to physical discomfort. Therapy involves struggle. But all of these yield perseverance, and character, and HOPE! Hope is the antithesis to suicide, a reason to go on living.

Find hope today, my friend. Reach out. GET HELP! Your life is worth it.

Others Above Self

“Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others (Phil 2:3-4, New International Version [NIV])”

I'm struggling tonight. I'd say I'm “on the struggle bus,” but that's not necessarily kind to the real people who ride special busses. I'm struggling because I want to be selfish, because I want to care about myself more than others. I want to make this verse say that I value myself and others, but it says to “value others above [myself] (Phil 2:3). The Message [MSG] translation reads, “Put yourself aside and help others get ahead” (Phil 2:3-4) I can do that in the counseling room, but not in real life.

In real life, I feel like I'm constantly trying to survive, constantly fighting to be calm and even-tempered, and I think I have to be selfish to do it. “I have to protect myself,” I say. “I have to practice self-care.” Yes, and Yes. These verses do not say to abase myself, but to value others more than myself, so I have to value myself some. Self-care does lead to others-care. But selfishness does not lead to the kind of selflessness God desires. It does not lead to the kind of sacrifice that creates unity in the church and in the body of God (Guzik). Selfishness puts me first when I need to put God first.

Oh, how I want to be my best advocate, my greatest cheerleader, but that's not my calling. I am “chosen” in Christ to be His servant, His vehicle for showing His love to the world (Eph 1:11). Serving in that role means putting myself aside, trusting in God to take care of me instead of trusting only myself. It means looking for excellence in others, rather than tooting my own horn (Jamieson, Fausset, & Brown). It means laying aside my passions and ambitions for God's, trying to see the best in others and help them achieve their God-given potentials. But even in this, I can be selfish. I can put others ahead and try to tag-along behind them. That's not what the verse says. Look not “to your own interests,” it says (Phil 2:4). Oh, have I got a lot of learning and loving to do! Help me, Jesus.

References

Guzik, D. (2006). Humble living in light of Jesus' humble example. In Study Guide for Philippians 2. Retrieved from https://www.blueletterbible.org/Comm/guzik_david/StudyGuide_Phl/Phl_2.cfm?a=1105003.

Fausett, A. R. (n. d.) The Epistle of Paul the Apostle to the Philippians. In Commentary on Philippians 2. Retrieved from https://www.blueletterbible.org/Comm/jfb/Phl/Phl_002.cfm?a=1105003.