surrounded

it is so hard to wrap my mind around some things: what the world looks like to a bumblebee, how a plane flies across oceans, SmartPhones that are smarter than me, how an invisible virus or a tiny pill can have incredible effects in a body, and the idea that right now, as i sit in my air-conditioned room near all the comforts of a first-world town there are, on the other side of the planet, hundreds of humans hiding in caves and mountains.  hiding from other humans.  eating anything near-edible, drinking anything wet they can find.  sanitation and hygiene are a dream.  in every direction, there are enemies offering an impossible choice: surrender your God, or die. 

my first thought was one of confused wonder at how vicious people can be, how far they will take their anger at God and attempt to defeat Him by forcing His people to cave to their demands.

my second thought was just wonder… and anticipation.

everyone, even non-religious folks, knows the popular Bible stories and all kinds of illusions to Noah's Ark, Jonah, the Nativity, and a handful of the "really cool" ones.

but one of my favorite stories is one you don't hear much about, tucked away in the middle of a chapter in II Kings:

daily life in the East. a cruddy king ruled the nation, people did whatever they wanted, their first faith pretty much abandoned and the easiest person to blame was the prophet, who was just trying to bring his nation back to God. every year nations would go to war and fight over cities, livestock, trade routes, people, money and gods. faith was an integral part of the early humans' life.  they saw a clear connection between the physical and spiritual.  if the Philistines won the battle against the Moabites, then clearly Dagon was a better god than Baal, and if you offer enough sacrifices to either, neither, or both, your fortune will change.

problem: Dagon and Baal got nothin' on Jehovah, forgotten though He may be. and then Elisha, the prophet given the massive task of awakening Israel to this revelation- God hasn't forgotten you; return to Him and your basket of blessings will overflow. follow your own way, and He will let you- just know it's got some undesirable side effects.

so one fine spring Syria, who's been antagonizing Israel decides to take out  the city Elisha is residing in at the time- he knows too much, he's rooting for the "wrong" God, and they'll prove it by taking him out.

so Elisha and his assistant wake up one morning and see what would make any normal human tremble.

the whole city is surrounded.  soldiers, horses, and chariots beyond counting. there's no possible way out. the choice: surrender, or die. 

Elisha's servant feels the knot in his stomach, looks at his master and says (loosely paraphrased), "what the crap are we gonna do?!?!"

and Elisha just smiles and says, "nothing."  he just knows God's got this.  so he just prays, "God… let. him. see."

God answered- he saw.  all of a sudden, the barrier between visible and invisible, physical and spiritual, real and REAL- was ripped to shreds.  the sunlight paled in comparison to the newfound vision the servant now had.  he saw the soldiers. he saw the horses. he saw the massive army blocking the entire city in…

but the mountain that he and Elisha were standing on was completely full of a far more formidable army.  chariots of fire, surrounding them, encasing them and protecting them, against which nothing could stand.

Elisha prayed again, God struck the human Syrian army with blindness and confusion, and Elisha led them off to a completely different city before they realized they'd been duped and made a spectacle of themselves and their "god."

that army is still out there.  ISIS will know. they can force Nazarenes to their knees and make them say whatever they want about God, claim that Allah is greater and has won this battle, but…

that army is still out there. 

they may seem invisible, or impotent, or absent-

but i know that those mountains in Iraq are full of chariots of fire. 

i still can't smile like Elisha, and my blood pressure is probably rising more than his did over this desperate situation,  but underneath the horror stories there are glimpses, however brief or dim, glimpses of those angel soldiers keeping watch over their charges. 

i pray for eyes to be opened to the bigger Reality. for food and water to reach those who are clinging to their faith more than to physical life, but also that they see those chariots and know that they are not forgotten- by us or by God.  for the eyes of the terrorists be blinded and for them to leave- and then to realize that there is only one true God who protects His people and avenges all wrong in His own time. for the spiritually blind ISIS members to see the Way, the Truth and the Life, to drop their weapons and find mercy and grace on the only mountain it comes from; for them to run to Calvary, not Mecca and choose forgiveness and life over hatred and death.  

that army is still out there- you are surrounded!  which army surrounds you, and whether or not that sounds like good news to you will change depending on which camp you're in- and you can switch. if there's hope for me, then there is hope even for ISIS terrorists who come to faith.

Nazarenes- take hope.  that army is out there- you are surrounded and safe!  non-Nazarenes- take heed.  that army is still out there- you are surrounded!

Thank you, Private Ryan

i think it's been about 2 years since i've seen Saving Private Ryan.

if you're an American old enough to understand the concept of freedom, i highly recommend it. it's one of the best WWII visuals out there and says what i wish i could say better than i could ever say it.

on the bridge, where too many young people just died, instant friendships formed then ended in hours, families ripped apart, faces turned to memories- it rips your soul out and twists it up.

that last line from Tom Hanks…

"Earn this. Earn it."

I took the trash out to the dumpster and made it back inside in time to hear it.  following the story in my head as i walked, i stood a second to look.  right on the edge of the dumpster, about to spill to the ground was a pile of 5 cases of beer.

good thing we haven't forgotten what today was about, huh?

i wonder what the veterans are thinking about today. 

i don't know if we really can earn what we've been given. we received it, we use it-not nearly to its fullest potential, but we use it, we celebrate it… but how?

there are few, but there are still people alive who remember Normandy not from a textbook, who have gold or silver stars hanging up, folded flags, uniforms, badges and medals… if i met one, what could i say?  "hey, thanks for giving your life for my liberty.  i'm so proud to be free because i can drink beer on a monday?"

no. just..no.

i want my life to count for something.  i want to make this world better.

i want to see a people rise up who actually believe in something enough to make it happen, or to not shame those who step up and pay the cost. 

the next war will probably go the nuclear or bioterrorism route in about 10 seconds. we're past the rifles and sticky bombs, the time when hand to hand combat made the struggle close, unavoidably personal.  every single person who wore one of those dog tags knew they probably wouldn't enjoy the freedom they were fighting to keep- but they fought anyway, saying, "yes, freedom is worth yet another life- mine."  afterwards, we can see the final price tag- it's astounding.

my freedom is worth way too many lives for it to be wasted on a few beer cans. 

even more than the vets, though, there's Someone else who i want to please.  who went beyond infinity and made the ultimate sacrifice and turned the whole war around. 

because frankly, we were losing so badly it wasn't even a war.

freedom and life was at stake.  millions of lives, literally.  drowning in an ocean of sin and chaos, there was no hope.  until He decided to make it personal.  unavoidably so. he broke into the time-space continuum, got right up in Satan's face and said, "she's mine, and that freedom is worth yet another life-MINE."  knowing the cost, even more than we ever could, He said it was worth it.

He didn't say, "earn this." because He knew we never could, and i don't plan on trying to. 

but i refuse to waste it. there are some gifts that are just too large, and there's nothing you can do but say, "thank you.  thank you so much."  to say or do more would be pathetically insufficient, but to do nothing is unthinkably ungrateful.

i want today to be my "thank you."  in a way, it IS our thank-you; it's up to each of us individuals what we want to express.  what are you doing with your gift? would you really want a WWII veteran to see it? 

thank you, veterans and current  soldiers. for your giving, your serving, your sacrifices great and small and in-between.

thank you to all those who are defending my right to work, to live, to worship without fear, to speak. some of you are in courtrooms, some are in offices, some are in churches, some are simple Americans and some are super-important Americans with badges and security officers and big white houses.

i hope we never forget.

thank you, Savior.  for your giving and serving and sacrifice that makes every other sacrifice pale in comparison. you gave freedom to those who can't pay for it, your served those who had no right to even carry your dirty sandals, you shined a light so bright even a blind hopeless screw-up like me could finally see the way to You. 

i know i will never forget.

today is my "thank you."

Dear Stalker,

there is so much i could tell you.

the best answers always come AFTER the restraining order's been filed…

although even if that file weren't between us, i don't know if i'd ever be able to actually spit this out anyway.  first of all, because you wouldn't listen to me (you never did before, anyway).  secondly, because i empathize with you more than i ever cared to admit.

my heart hurts.

for you, and for me. and for oh, so many more like each of us.

your one and only fallback excuse to turning your back on religion was the age-old question of why there was so much suffering in this world if there was any semblance of a "good" God, as the Bible claims; why God had never pulled a miracle out of His hat and cured an amputee; why those who rely on prayer are all exactly like that one fanatic couple who endangered their child's life by praying instead of going to a hospital.

you've never read anything thicker than the New York Times, from which you borrow most of your core beliefs and spout off quotes like you came up with them yourself.  you let strangers you've never met do 100% of your thinking for you, and are completely unable to back up those thoughts with logic, facts, or even conviction.

you have nothing left to hold on to but a tangled mess of a life philosophy, so blinded and lost you have no idea just how blinded and lost you are.

problem: i've been exactly where you are standing. spoon-fed beliefs that completely contradict everything you think you see in the world. drowning in a pool of what seems right, though the pool is more like deadly quicksand than water, and the more struggling you do to get out of it the lower and lower you sink until you think you're going insane from the panic.

i admitted to you that i do not have all the answers, at least not the ones you want.  dude, sometimes life just seems to suck, big-time, and God feels very, very far away, or uncaring, or just plain not there. which is the conclusion you wound up with.

and yet, i'm coming to the opposite conclusion you did.

i was given a book- it was like Christmas all over again!!  a 500-page book, so i know you wouldn't ever try to read it.  but it put into words everything i tried once to tell you, and is helping me even now find the answers we both were, or still are, looking for (referencing "If God is Good; Faith in the Midst of Suffering and Evil", by Randy Alcorn...and no, i have not messed with APA or MLA formatting in 3 years and even then cried my way through it.  Alcorn, forgive me!). it explains a difficult side of the gospel that is easy to explain away and understand BEFORE you have suffered, but only really and truly comprehended AFTERWARDS. and to think- without suffering at all, we would miss out on it. though suffering is never what we enjoy or ask for or relish the idea of.

"why, God?"

i've asked it so many times. so very many times; at some points, out of anger, at other times, struggling with confusion and hurt, or plain old insecurity and curiosity.  to be honest, most of the time i don't really expect a clear answer written in the stars, blazing out for me to see, and i am 10,000% sure that even if i got one, i wouldn't understand it. but somehow, i'm clinging to my belief anyway.

the belief that He's there. the belief that He's good, despite times and circumstances that you say indicate He can't be.  the belief that He cares- a lot. more than i know.

i'm clinging to the belief that THERE IS AN ANSWER, even if i don't know it, or hear it, or understand it, or like it.

but mostly, i'm just clinging like SuperGlue to Him.  because through all this, the only sure thing i know is that no matter how i may feel, He's all i've got.  which is eternally more than enough. 

right now, there are more than 200 families in Nigeria that are probably asking "why" as they wait, and wait, and wait for their daughters to come back. more and more names come, and still many more girls whose names are as of now unknown to us. People all over the world point to this situation and mock religion, mock God, mock those of us who pray.

this is the part of the story where Liam Neeson grabs a gun, a walkie-talkie and a Nigerian-English Dictionary and busts up the entire trafficking gang and saves every single child without suffering more than a scrape or two. at least, that's the story we want.  the story we think we need.  the story we think God needs to back up His own reputation and prove Himself.

Dear Stalker-who-shall-remain-nameless, there is indeed a story happening, and it's a good one. but chances are it's not what we think.  God has no need to bow to our whims, or those of a madman waving a gun and threatening to destroy God and all His followers.

He knows your name, and mine.  He knows your struggles, and mine.  He's got the whole story of the universe written down, and it includes the name of each and every star that you care to count tonight.  there is indeed hope.  there is indeed faith. it's all been promised (cited below, also not in APA format). there's a plan and a promise- so far beyond our merely human minds.  it's too big to fathom.  He's too big to fathom, calculate, put in a box, control, or change. in unbelievers, this triggers doubts.  in Christians, it's nothing short of strength, peace and life.

no matter what happens to those girls, God not only knows every single one of their names, but also the story's end.  it most definitely ends with Him being glorified, us being humbled, evil being conquered, and righteousness prevailing and filling an entire, brand-new world with peace and joy that is lit up with the brightest purest light conceivable- its source: God Himself. 

yes, i will still pray.  you'd better believe i'm gonna keep on praying- for those girls to somehow be filled to the uttermost with a peace that only God can provide and that they will be able to rest, physically and spiritually, knowing that God is near to them in their trouble and is a Rock with a cleft just the right size for every one of them.  i'm praying for those … those horrid men who think their plan will succeed, that they can boast against God and come out on top- praying that they will have a change of heart, be rescued from their own spiritual fetters and find the peace and forgiveness they need in the very God they are trying to fight.

and i'm praying for you.  by name, because i know it and so does God.

and for all those like you, searching for- or fighting against- the God you're not even sure exists, numbing yourselves to the honest questions your hearts are asking by absorbing fluffy, non-substantial, brain- and soul-numbing lies to avoid the difficult, but only, path to hope not only for this life but for the next one. 

If you are a praying believer, I'm going to ask you to join with me in praying for these girls, by name.  Follow the link just below to see this list.  This is such an amazing and personal way to be involved, by communicating with the One who's in total control and just offer up the name of these individual children. praying for their safety. praying for their families.  praying that they, their captors, we, and the entire world see God, see God glorified.

http://achurchforstarvingartists.wordpress.com/2014/05/06/please-pick-one/

"Seek the LORD while he may be found; call upon him while he is near;

let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts;

let him return to the LORD, that he may have compassion on him, and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon.

'For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways', declares the LORD. 'For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.

For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven and do not return there but water the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall my word be that goes forth from my mouth: it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and it shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it.

For you shall go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and the hills before you shall break forth into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.

Instead of thorn shall come up the cypress; instead of the brier shall come up the myrtle; and it shall make a name for the LORD, an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off."

-Isaiah 55:6-13

go take a hike (but please bring a map!)

i had a wonderful, completely laid-out and well planned post from beginning to end all in my head, before it decided to shut down.

now i got nuthin.'

some days just stink, to be honest. 

it's been no secret (at all) that i've had a pile of issues i've been working through, with shockingly little visible progress (from my perspective, anyway).  if you didn't know and somehow missed out on this, thank you for ignoring it. 

it's been a bit more of a secret that the past couple weeks have really been much better than average. despite absolutely nothing being stable except some well-grounded friends who insist that i eat and sleep and worry about the nonsense afterwards, for a while i thought maybe the valley was heading toward higher ground.

let me just tell ya.  you know what really stinks?

life's a roller coaster- i know that.  but all the ups and downs you've been riding, thinking they're mountains and valleys- when a random beautiful day comes along and you find out those mountains and valleys are nothing more than hills and holes IN THE MIDDLE OF the real valley.

to put this delicately, it hurts like a brick to the face. 

it sucks the breath right out of you and knocks you to your knees.  literally as well as figuratively.   the noise and the pain cancel each other out so you don't hear or feel anything.   all the miles of progress turned out to be numbers on a treadmill and you're in the exact same spot, except that with the new-found perspective, the mountain is twice as big as you thought at first, but your energy is now half, or less. 

does that sound over-dramatic? pssht- you should'a seen my face today.  i think we took "dramatic" to a whole new level.

note to self: don't drown yourself in denial for 20 years ever again.  it's what turns hills and holes into mountains and valleys.  denial- sounds great until it conks out on you two decades later and leaves you all alone in a ditch. if you're lucky it will throw a roadmap out the window towards you with a sneer. 

awesome- now you have a roadmap.

not awesome- you're still in a frggin' DITCH. it's probably raining, too. 

this afternoon was the first time in ages i just wanted to run away-actually skip out on the Cubbies. i was getting craft time ready an hour or two before and having a conversation with Jesus when i just had to collapse into a soggy wad and dehydrate my eyes all over my sleeves.  progress: what progress? prayers went: who knows? hoping i could avoid this agonizing problem for just a little while longer and deal with other, smaller, easier problems first/instead? apparently not. because this sucker popped up and laughed in my face. no roadmap- just the sneer. no hope from *that* side!  i just couldn't take seeing those Cubbies and feeling like the hugest fraud in the church building. could. not. take it!  or so i thought.  actually, neither could they.  just sayin', these 4 year olds conquered the whole "first Adam vs second Adam" concept exceptionally well a few months ago, but the "fishermen vs fishers OF men" idea? not happening.  those poor children did not get it. at all.and got right up in my face to tell me so.  ***side note: best 20 seconds of my entire week- having 4 incredibly adorable faces IN MY FACE telling me, for almost the first time, that they actually didn't understand their Bible story and needed me to explain it again. and 7 other equally adorable faces behind those asking when game time was. i actually TAUGHT those kids something new.  or tried to, in any case***

good news is that Peter didn't get a whole lot either. he had some major hills and holes as well, and on a random beautiful day when he least expected it, he found someone who could not only substitute Denial's stupid roadmap- for a scary, long, exhausting, confusing but HOPEFUL, PROMISING, and ASSURED route to that incredible mountaintop end in glory,-

but also said he'd lead the way, all the way. 

and good glory, if He didn't give up on Peter, of all people, then he prob won't drop me, either.  

i've got a several-hour-long playlist of mostly K-LOVE music that has been playing basically non-stop wherever i am, for the past… really long time.  this is a very small sampling. i think more people read the words is i put them down, than would clink on a link to listen to the whole song, so here's a couple of the so-true-it-hurts songs that keep me grounded and refocus my mind. i think there must be a reason so many of them refer to walking (and walking and walking) or mountains or feeling completely lost in the middle of nowhere good. 

but i KNOW there's a reason they all refer to someone else being there.  

 

just a closer walk with thee- grant it, Jesus, is my plea. daily walking close to Thee, let it be, dear Lord, let it be. I am weak, but Thou art strong Jesus, keep me from all wrong I'll be satisfied as long as i walk, let me walk, close to Thee through this world of toil and cares if i falter, Lord, who cares? who with me my burden shares? none but thee, dear Lord, none but thee

i remember the moment, i remember the pain, i was only a girl, but i grew up that day. tears were falling, i know you saw me. hiding there in my bedroom, so alone, i was doing my best trying to be strong- no-one to turn to, that's when i met you. all this time, from the first tear cried, til today's sunrise, and every single moment between- You were there, You were always there. it was You and i- You've been walking with me all this time. ever since that day it's been clear to me that no matter what comes You will never leave i know You're for me and You're restoring every heartache and failure, every broken dream You're the God Who Sees and You will never leave this is my story- this is my story! all this time, from the first tear cried, til today's sunrise, and every single moment between- You were there, You were always there. it was You and i- You've been walking with me all this time.

o God, my God, I cry out Your beloved needs you now. God be near, calm my fear, and take my doubt. your kindness is what pulls me up, and your love is all that draws me  in i will lift my eyes to maker of the mountains i can't climb i will lift my eyes to Calmer of the oceans raging wild i will lift my eyes to the healer of the hurt i hold inside i will my eyes, lift my eyes to You. o God my God, let mercy sing a melody over me God right here, all i bring, is all of me your kindness is what pulls me up and your love is all that draws me in. i will lift my eyes to maker of the mountains i can't climb i will lift my eyes to Calmer of the oceans raging wild i will lift my eyes to the healer of the hurt i hold inside i will my eyes, lift my eyes to You. cause you are and you were and you will be forever the love that i need to save me cause you fashioned the earth and you hold it together, God, so hold me now.

I don’t know where to go from here It all used to seem so clear I’m finding I can’t do this on my own I don’t know where to go from here As long as I know that You are near I’m done fighting I’m finally letting go I will trust in You You’ve never failed before I will trust in You If there’s a road I should walk Help me find it If I need to be still Give me peace for the moment Whatever Your will Whatever Your will Can you help me find it Can you help me find it I’m giving You fear and You give faith I giving you doubt You give me grace For every step I’ve never been alone Even when it hurts, You’ll have Your way Even in the valley I will say With every breath You’ve never let me go I will wait for You You’ve never failed before I will wait for You I lift my empty hands Have Your way my King I lift my eyes again ‘Cause You are all I need

12.5

so i've been working in this new unit for almost 2 months.

i love it- i really do.  i transferred because this new position offered everything i'd miss about my first unit (doing what i love, with people i love, on the night shift which is when i love... everything... much better), as well as several new opportunities to learn things and gain skills, experience stuff i'd never otherwise experience.  when an opportunity like this lands in my lap, i like to take them.  so i did.  it's been a blast.

...and then last weekend happened.  good glory- what a weekend. in some ways, it was just a another shift (and then another and another and then yet one more), but in other ways it was ridiculous.  it took "ridiculous" to a whole new level, really.  the only reason i said i would work the fourth shift was because the third one was so bad i didn't want to end the weekend on such a sucky note.

that third consecutive shift, i left so fast i didn't take the time to rip the dumb face mask and shoe covers off.  i needed fresh air, a shower, a moment to think and another moment to get rid of just a couple tears that had been begging for release for many hours but never had the chance because i practically hadn't blinked for 14 hours.

but my head was held high. 

and i came up with an idea for a new tv show (because clearly we don't have enough tv shows).

it's called "12.5" and it stars a nursing unit (because no nurse ever works alone).  it's non-stop action, because the only time we pause to chart, breathe and eat is after the shift is supposed to be over.

we don't walk. ever.  we run- just like Jack Bauer. only difference is that he gets bathroom breaks during commercials.

now, we don't shoot our coworkers in the head with guns but we do shoot epi and curasurf and some juiced-up saline.

what we're up against: not international terrorists, but diseases we can't cure, non-viable statistics and red tape out the wazoo.  no airborne biotoxins, but invisible electrolytes that insist on being out of whack.

trade out the two-faced spies for some crazy…. just straight-up crazy visitors or family members.

sha-bam- you've got your next blockbuster.  

Dear Jack Bauer,

you're awesome. you really are. aside from a dirty mouth, you're a model patriot, what every citizen should strive to be like.

you've saved thousands and thousands of innocent Americans multiple times.  you kept your cool under impossible circumstances and you kept your eyes on the finish line when anyone else with a normal human body would have been dead waaaaay before then.  you based every decision not on what you wanted, but what would accomplish the purpose and save as many lives as possible.

You're welcome.

you may be a tv star- a downright hero, even.

just want to say though, that you only saved a bajillion people because someone else saved them first.  if you took a poll of all those you rescued, and then removed every single one of them that had ever had a heart attack or a stroke or was born prematurely or had a nuchal cord.  take away all the uncontrolled diabetics.  the asthmatics. those who were choking on their food or straight-up coded in a restaurant nearby someone who was CPR-certified. those who've survived car crashes and cancer. every single one of those lived because there was a team of nurses and doctors, surgeons and caretakers  and normal humans who were there before you were.

for that matter, what about those students who only made it through high school because there was that one teacher who motivated them to do their best and push through? 

what about those kids who grew up and became successful parents and employees and Americans because their own 2 parents were there?

what about those who  didn't have those parents, but had someone else?

all those owe their lives to God who put the right people at the right time for them. 

you do, too, because quite frankly, your CPR sucks and you have no knowledge of physiology. none. 

but America, myself included, thanks you and freakin' loves your show.

Love,

the whole nation that's waiting for the next season

yes, there are shows about nurses.  about as accurate as Bigfoot, but whatever.  i really don't think an accurate tv show about nursing would go over very well with the general public.  too messy.  by gum, did we ever make a mess this weekend!  me and my preceptor both are a little OCD-neat with the wires and tubes and we follow all the rules we possibly can, but when a life is on the line, it's time to screw the protocol and do what it takes.  do it now-whatever "it" is- and worry about permission later. you can sweep up the piles of trash later. you can chart the whole mess afterwards and make it look as neat as you want. 

just make sure all those notes you wrote on the wrappers, gloves and paper towels aren't in the trash you swept up. 

it ain't pretty.  it ain't easy. but i love it.

and if the national anthem sounded forth, i would  stand without shame right next to Jack Bauer and sing with as much gusto as anyone else who is proud of their job and the work that they do. hopefully both of us get a shower and hairbrush before it's screened live, but if not it'll be okay.  i mean, it's real life after all!

Problems wth America, Part II

i'm working out a theory.

actually, several theories, but one in particular right now.  chances are that it will come completely unraveled right here, right now, but that's kinda the point of working out theories.  either they stay or they crumble but at least you know, or have a vague idea of a direction to go afterwards.

and it may be true that this theory only applies to me but i don't think i'm that distinctive from the rest of the human race.

and i idon't know if this was even a problem for me until this trip to India.  well, actually it was, but it was the same problem but in reverse.  if that makes any sense to you, you're farther along that i am :P

question: what if everybody, churchwide, quit telling anyone else that they look good?

i think it would be awesome.

can i explain?  'kay, thanks!

here's the deal: no, i was not always this large.  several years i ago i was smaller.

a lot smaller. yes.  believe it.  intensely personal data right here:  you know those stupid BMI charts that are in every health curriculum, gym, gym class, and doctor's office and serve no purpose except to make everyone who sees it to feel awful about themselves?

i was literally "off the chart" until the summer before my senior year of high school. but off the left side, not the right.  i'm not lying. i remember walking past a copy of that senior year and wondering that there was finally a little box ON the chart with both my height and my weight.

a lot of reasons for that, none of which are required knowledge for the purposes of this post.

6 years later, i am safely away from all the borders of the chart and, well, mostly okay with this.

then i went to India, had a great time, took a lot of pictures, met some awesome people and came on back home.

here's the scenario: the two or three weeks after i came back, multiple people , mostly from church, celebrated my return, asked how the trip was and received the expected positive response… and then a good handful of them made an unexpected comment- "wow, you look really good!" or "you look better!" with the clear reference to my physical appearance.

please stop right here and read this very carefully: these people are wonderful, loving, Godly church members who have been enthusiastic and uber-supportive of me and this mission trip from the second they heard about it and because they've seen my face in church for a good 6 years now.  not one of them said anything offensive, rude, judgmental or wrong.

here's the problem:  only 2 things changed while in India- 1) i did get more sun than anyone else in tennessee those 2+ weeks, just not enough to get a tan, and 2) i lost 4 pounds.  this was not intentional and not realized until i came home at 0230 and saw my friend's scale that i had borrowed to weight the suitcases over and over and over again to make sure they were under the weight limit and because the scale was small, i had to do the whole weigh-yourself-weigh-you+suitcase-subtract -your-weight thing repeatedly until i knew to the ounce how much i weighed in every outfit i wore those last few desparate days of packing, and i was wearing the exact same outfit upon my return (the only winter clothes i'd brought. just for the heck of it, i came in, plopped the suitcases down and stepped on the scale.

please do not respond to this with "you're crazy- of course you're not fat. that's the most ridiculous thing ever.  look at me, silly!"

i'm not saying i'm categorically fat.  i'm not saying anything in particular about my appearance.

but i'm saying that other people did, and i'm saying that i noticed it.  and i'm also saying it's had some unintended effects on me.

**BunnyTrail: this would not be a good time to heap on the praises just because you read this. that'll sound faker than a Barbie doll and not be the blessing you intend it to be. welcome to the female mind.**

if you remember that personal moment a whole 4-6 paragraphs ago, you will see that while different than the average american's, i too have had issues with weight control and outside appearances. everyone would like to look good, just most people don't carry this goal to absurd extremes. but given the choice, who would say, "i desire to be hideous"? that's right- nobody.

another personal moment happening here: not only that, there are a host of personal issues, concerns, problems that i'm already battling and often feeling like i'm losing to. 

the idea that i gained positive comments, other people's approval and praise because i lost weight planted seeds in my head that i have actually watched grow and am trying to uproot.  typical of people who struggle on almost any level with depression or anxiety, when life just rises up and smacks you in the face, one of the first things you don't feel like doing is eating properly...especially if you know others will notice you if you don't. 

so here's the idea: i don't like saying one thing is wrong or inferior unless i can think of something that is superior or more helpful, so here's the very very beginning of a thought, followed by a lot of rambling to try to fill it out.

what if instead of instead of telling a person "hey, you look great!" because they're wearing a new shirt or because of some outward physical characteristic that people (mostly females) use to judge themselves/others, you said "oh hey, i love how that pretty new shirt reflects your ___(some inward positive character trait)___"  or even "i'm so glad to see you- come sit in this pew," implying that her presence is encouraging or enlightening or happy, not that the way she appears on the outside is of as much value as she is, just by being herself.

what if every christian-to-christian interaction was like that?

of course, there are some objections/correction/editions/appendices/exemptions that could be made.

for instance, what about the woman who knows that she really does need to lose weight? she may mention this as a prayer request, or ask for a buddy to go with her to the gym or walk in the park, or inquire about diets or ideas/suggestions to help her in this endeavor. taking care of one's body is, i think, of utmost importance. as christians, we have each been given a body to take care of.  not only does this show good stewardship, but it also enables us to aid others in whatever way/shape/form is needed, it gives a visual to the world of how the whole church should act as one body-every member helping others and keeping them healthy physically AND spiritually, it demonstrates at least a little bit that humans are categorically separate from other living beings and of immense value, and every act of building up the physical body also exercises increasing spiritual traits. 

to that i would say- if she brings this up as a need in her life, by all means encourage and help her along the way.  celebrate success, encourage through the sweat, and give all the glory to Whom it is due. but any comment on this prayer request should be rooted not in the simple fact that she needs to lose weight.  it should  be firmly planted in the facts- her efforts to lose weight and take care of herself ARE BECAUSE she has intrinsic value that has NOTHING to do with the actual number on the scale.

another "for instance"- what about the perfect, happy girl who honestly doesn't care what anyone says to/about her?

to that i would say- you're ridiculous.  show me a girl who is old enough to be potty trained, and i'll say that at least on some level, there are the beginnings of personal insecurities that will only grow into giant orchards of problems unless they are controlled.  if they are 100% under control, write your own post.

another one: what about the complete stranger who doesn't know you and can't honestly give personal compliments?

to that i would say: why don't you just spend 10 seconds, learn even just one simple, little thing about me that shows that i'm worth getting to know, even if i'm just wearing a large-sized pair of jeans and a t-shirt? how long does it take to ask me what my favorite color is? if i'm worth 5 seconds of a stranger's time, that in itself is a compliment.

there's a reason Jesus hung out with the social outcasts.  several reasons, actually. one of them, i think, is that those social outcasts knew they didn't have much externally of value. the handicapped and poor had zip, the lepers were as good as dead, and the hookers worse even than that.

but they had just as much value as humans to Jesus as the religious groupies and the oblivious gentiles.  He took quite a bit more than 10 seconds with them, despite the numerous civil  and religious laws He was tromping all over.  they were worth it to Him.

i traveled all the way around the world to tell several hundred people that they had so much value i would pay for the experience of giving them a small handful of Tylenol and that there was a God-only one- who was like "oh man- I want that person to know Me and worship Me so much that I'm gonna rock the world, send my only son to blast open the welcome gate and draw them through it with my incredible, unrelenting love...even that blind cripple. and the pregnant hooker. and that soon-to-be-unblinded pharisee. and ___(insert your name here)___"

it wasn't until the very last day in India, at the airport, actually, that i saw a legit, overweight Indian.  for 2 whole weeks, i was surrounded by a culture that seemingly puts far less value on the external appearance of another human being. yes, all their clothing, even on the rural poor farm laborers had bright colors and patterns but anyone could choose whatever outfit they wanted because all the clothes are one-size-fits-all.  who cares if you're a bit taller or darker or shorter or have wide shoulders.  not a one of them could tell your their BMI. it did not matter one single whit.  i did not enjoy coming back and being barraged by commercials, advertisements, clothing stores, ANY stores that emphasize the strictly physical. this country is absolutely drowning in a marketplace that exists only to fluff up insecure people's sense of worth based only on how they look, setting completely unattainable standards and putting a price tag on the person's body instead of their soul.

and we wonder why anorexia, bulimia, suicide, depression, diets, and a host of social plaques are running rampant and wreaking wholesale destruction on the self-esteem of americans across the board. not to be lame, but i honestly wonder why these problems aren't even worse.  what else could be the result when we only focus on the temporary and external rather than the truly worthwhile- that which is eternal and internal?

i can accept the fact that non-christians are going to be non-christians and judge me according to whatever system they feel like floating with. for 99% of them, accepting the theory of evolution really leaves them with the belief that they, and everyone else, including me, are only really smart animals.  so really, i just can't pin too much on your assessment of my personal value if you are starting with that assumption. sorry. i don't find it flattering in the least and really do wonder how you can handle it. 

and i know i shouldn't really base my opinion of myself upon another christian's perception of me, either. unless that christian's perspective comes with a scripture reference or two. i met a person like that once and it literally changed my life- well, the change is a process still going on. but it blew my mind. and then i met a couple more people. and they blew my mind as well. i'd rather have my mind blown than my self-esteem any day of the week.

but this is the part where i ask those who call themselves my church family who are undoubtedly stronger in faith than i am to remind me of truths when i (frequently) forget them and help me find my true value.  look deeper, please.

i really do appreciate the compliments.  they were trying to be happy and encouraging. i just don't need any encouragement to eat less, work out more, and focus on lesser things and turn molehill into a mountain.  i'm too good already at that stuff. 

 what if the entire church, as a whole, made a mission out of revealing truth inside its members, stripping the hidden lies of their power and reclaiming territory we've just handed over as individuals to the world? what if she (whoever "she" is) never heard "you look good" ever again because she didn't need to?  because she only heard "you ARE good, and here's why"?

**BunnyTrailBlazer: if you like OR hate the idea, want to continue it or shut it down, feel free to express said thoughts in a responsible, adult-like fashion.  bear in mind that this is a thought less than 24 hours old, and only about 2 or 3 of my past 24+ hours have been spent sleeping. i might wake up tomorrow and delete the whole post. but until then i'll just throw it out there for the entire internet to peruse while i doze away the freezing cold, icy, sleety, wet, wet day.**

Problems with America, Part I

i promised the rant- here's one part of it.

just a week ago, i returned from a mission trip to India, and there is more coming regarding that in due time.  there's still some to be processed and thought through, and that takes longer than some people are willing to wait, it seems.

but going on a trip like that really changes your perspective on many things. and while in a multitude of ways India is much the same as it was centuries ago, it does so many things right.  for instance, please take a good look at the picture below.  just look.  then feel free to bust out laughing, as i did.

those are my pants!!  MY PANTS!!

they have a fantabulous name in India, but i don't speak any of Taligu, so you'll have to take my work for it. 

i spent a whole 18 days surrounded by beautiful people in absolutely stunning clothing.  beauty everywhere, and half the women  wearing pants like that with their punjabi tops. their outfits really are one size fits all- the only decision you have to make is which colors and patterns.  there are only 3 trillion in each store you enter. no big deal :P it was any girl's dream- well, not any girl's.

fast forward 2 weeks.  i'm back in america, and even liking it. i have a new respect for dentists, trashcans, indoor plumbing, cars, air conditioning and hamburgers.

the problem: after either 2 or 3 years, one of my 2 pairs of jeans is now wearing thin to the point of fraying/ripping right below one of my pockets on the right side. they're super comfortable, i love the pockets and was/have been thrilled to find a pair of jeans that are my size. then i walked into Kohl's, the only place so far that i've had any luck finding suitable jeans.

all of a sudden, size has to matter.  shape has to matter. numbers have to matter. without realizing it, stupid little things started to matter. there is a reason why i despise clothes shopping, and that is it. well that, and the twisted notion that has flooded society: that every female looks good in skinny jeans and "jeggings." i literally feel just a bit dumber having typed that word.  i don't count either or those as "pants" and maintain my position that every pair would do more good as fire-starter material than covering a person, which they can't even do, even on a tiny, skinny person who "fits" them. even if they do "fit" they show more than i really care to see outside the hospital room when i'm not on duty and when you don't have a really really good reason for clueing me in. 

there are as many body types/shapes/sizes as there are humans, and america has put every girl into a perfect set-up-to-fail situation. first, because we value freedom, individuality, humanism and liberal secularism, we say that every girl is pretty, no matter what dress/pant size she is, no matter what color/condition her skin is, no matter how short/tall.

but then again, we say that it's not really true, and that the larger the number stitched in the back, the "slightly less" pretty you are.  then, just to make sure you can't succeed, we make the same sized pants with larger numbers every year, so that by staying the same size, you're actually increasing in pant size and therefore not only can you feel like a failure, you can't ever find a stupid pair of jeans that fits when you need one. 

i'm not even kidding you.  i don't own a scale at all.  i had to borrow a friend's to weigh my suitcases before i left, so i know exactly how much a weighed every day before i left, each time i re-weighed the suitcases.  even though i love Indian food and not once went hungry more than an hour, i still somehow managed to lose 4 pounds. i know i don't need to lose weight, and it was not intentional.

but in need of a pair of pants, size 7, and FINALLY finding ONE single pair that size (that was not of the "skinny jeans" or "jeggings" or "emo-full-of-holes" varieties), all i learned was that i am now a size 11.  that' s double digits now, folks!!  and part of me was surprised.  part was disgusted with the pant makers, but part of it just poked that part in my brain where everyone wonders what's wrong with them and needs to find something to blame, even if it's not blameworthy.  i know  that i really haven't changed much at all in the past couple years, but somehow i felt like society was passing judgment on me and now thought less of me for failing their standards (which aren't "standard" at all, if you think about it).  

rant almost done.

Dear America,

stop torturing your own- please!!  for the sake of the young ones, and the sanity of us all.  good glory- PICK A STUPID SIZING SYSTEM AND STICK WITH IT!

if it's 34 inches around, CALL IT 34 INCHES. don't call it size 13 one year and size 21 the next, or whatever number you want.  NOT HELPFUL.

if you want every girl scout in the nation to hear that she is beautiful no matter what, why don't you follow that up with an honest standard of measurement so she can just walk into a store, buy whatever number jeans she wants and then get on with her life, doing what she loves with those she wants to be with instead of fretting and scrambling through shelves for hours, trying to make herself fit the popular style of clothes so she'll feel accepted.  an overweight girl already knows she's overweight.  changing the jeans size won't help or change her.  what will help? why don't you just give her a hug, grab her hand and a frisbee and go hang out in the park, or study together in Starbucks, or spend some time and altogether too much money in Hobby Lobby expressing what's awesome inside you that has almost nothing to do with external and temporal circumstances and circumferences.

the first time i saw those pants, i swallowed all kinds of pride and skepticism, "knowing" that i was too tall, too small, too white, too whatever, to wear those.  most americans would just die at the thought of trying on something so … not normal, afraid of looking huge or ugly or non-standard.

guess what.  i'm not standard. relative to most Indians, yes, i am a freakin' giant, but their promise was true- the pants still fit perfectly, and i had a blast wearing those all over the place. they'd be size 50 or 60-something, but i don't care.  they didn't, either. they looked amazing- more so because they just weren't concerned about it. 

yes, i am a girl, and sometimes care altogether too much about what others think of me and how i look and how i dress and crave praise and being noticed just as much, or even more, than many other girls.  only females can know just how aggravating it is, living with so many fluid standards and goals and promises when all we want is to just. be. a. girl.

… so i put on the freakishly huge pair of pants and ran with it.  literally.