Oops, I did it again...

"Well, I have mixed feelings (leaning towards opposing) about both marriage and kids. She wanted both. She's a Christian, I'm an atheist."

Children, every day there are lessons for us to learn. Yesterday's lesson: Don't ask the question if you don't want to know the answer.

Last week, I meet a guy. I was sitting at a bar in a restaurant celebrating my friend's thirtieth birthday. It was almost closing time and these two guys came up to the bar and started chatting with us. That led to a sad, sad, pathetic attempt at a game of pool. Then we decided it was too early, so we would go back to my friend's and hang out for a little while longer. We tried to play a board game...it did not go well; boys cheat at  Pictionary. At the end of the night, both guys asked for our numbers and to be honest, I thought that would be the end of that. At this point in my life, I expect very little from the young men that I meet. Two days later, he text me to let me know that he would be going out of town but would get in touch with me when he got home. And (Wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles), he did! And so for the last few days we have been texting back and forth, just asking questions. And he initiates the texts and asks good questions and lets me be nosy and  tells me about his life and doesn't act as if I'm insane. All the single girls out there are swooning right now. Believe me, this is as good as it gets.

And then last night came and I asked him why he and his girlfriend of four years broke up. And the quotation above was his response. I felt like I had been kicked in the stomach and that someone had taken my heart and ripped it from my chest and stomped on it. Not again! Am I wearing a sign or something? Please someone tell me what is going on in the world. And it isn't just me. At the women's retreat that I just went to, several of the single girls confessed that the only guys that they date are nonbelievers. The Christian guys we know don't ask girls out, so we can sit alone at home or date boys that we will never marry. And the solution seems so simple, but at twenty eight, it is heart breaking and painful and so unfair.

And so, I left it at that with him; that I didn't know what to do or say, but that we would talk later. I know that it is wrong and I am struggling so much, because to be honest, I want to go back to before I knew. I want to pretend that it doesn't matter and that he is a nice guy and his faith is of no consequence. I want him to not be what he is, and that isn't fair, because I am sure he would like me or some girl to be an atheist who doesn't want to marry him or bear his offspring. It scares me to think that it is always going to be this way.  I am angry and sad and frustrated and I am trying to hold back tears. This guy is great, really, and he doesn't think that this is an issue at all and the only important thing is if we enjoy each others company. I WANT to believe that. I WANT to be that girl.  I WANT to just ignore this very still small voice that tells me to wait and hope and pray.  I just want to be able to push all that away and choose this thing that I know will break my heart. And it will. Eventually. Because this guy is my antithesis, and I am truly holding on the fact that I am not meant for that.

I just need a little sign. Just something. Because the hits just keep on coming and I am getting more and more cynical about the point of all of this. I want to just say to hell with this and let it go for a moment and ignore every warning sign and good bit of common sense that I have. My heart is heavy and I'm tired and every time this happens I just feel more cynical. I'm trying people, really and truly, but this shit is for the birds.

Ain't Nobody Got Time for That....

"So I joined the Easter choir, and these ladies where like 'You should totally go to the Women's Retreat' and on the outside I was nodding and smiling, but on the inside I was all 'Ain't nobody got time for that.'  Seriously, I am not going to hang out with a bunch of strangers on the side of a mountain over night, it just isn't going to happen.  But it did happen, and I can tell you it was one of the best things I ever did. I know that it is scary, but I met so many amazing women there that have made such a major influence on my life and who I have such wonderful relationships with today. If you are nervous because you don't know anyone, just come say hi to me after church, because then, you will at least know one person."

Four weeks ago, I was asked to give the announcements about the Annual Women's Retreat.  I was in school and church plays, I dance and sing and have been in speech and debate, but I still get the worse performance anxiety. When I got off the stage, my hands were shaking. I felt a tad bit foolish, because I knew I left out some major details about the retreat and it might have been better had someone else given the announcement.

The retreat has now come and gone and it was every bit as wonderful as last year. It was very different, and luckily, I was not the one that cried hysterically or drank a few too many glasses of wine. That was another girl, and she was new and precious and I adored having her there.

I knew most of the women that attended and really enjoyed listening and learning from them. The large majority of the women are married, mostly with children and they are just a hoot. As a single girl, sometimes it is hard to remember that being a wife and a mother is a great joy but also an immense responsibility and spending time away from your family is awesome, because as Jamie reminds us all, sometimes your house smells like ass and armpits and you just need to get away from it.

The retreat was more about actual relaxing than lessons and stuff, so as we were standing in the kitchen drinking wine and eating snacks and balancing on the kitchen counters and talking to police who showed up, having browsed their local twitter and noting some scuttlebutt about a wild party going on, I learned more about who these women really are. I heard the f bomb dropped more times than would probably be considered kosher. We talked about abortions; the ones on the news and the ones in our homes, homosexuality and our own real struggles with sexuality in general, sex in cars and other places, and favorite movies and tv shows, and how the single men in our church need to get their shit together, about moving to the other side of the world for Jesus and hating it and questioning Him and his goodness. We talked about our stories and how life is full of pain and suffering and pleasure and joy and how things haven't gone quite the way we wanted them to and yet, at times, better than we ever could have imagined. Our conversations were real and messy and dirty and I think it was what makes me look forward to it next year.

These women, the ones at my church, are real people with real hurts and they are all about getting it in the open and exposing it to the light and not letting people believe that they, as Christians, have some guard against pain and suffering. And that very real pain and suffering leaves them with doubts and questions and wanting to know if this is all worth it. And these confessions of confusion and skepticism are opportunities for us all the press in together and remind each other of who our God is and what he has done. These retreats remind us that we are not alone, that we, individually, do not have a monopoly on all the hurt and pain in the world. We are able to encourage each other and bear one another's burdens and comfort and mourn and edify.  The retreat is a chance for us to remember the confidence that we can have in Christ because we see our sisters walking beside us. We are also reminded, with joy, that our lives have been evidence of great victory, that overwhelming miracles have been done on our behalf and that this life is covered with love from a great Father. So yes, I have time for that, and I pray that I will always have the opportunity to engage like this with other women. It is hard, but it is so good (oh, a good all carry over from my college days) and I am very much looking forward to next year's retreat.

Spring has sprung!

In Knoxville, there always fun things going on downtown year-round, but April is really when everything gets buzzing. The lull of winter wears off and everyone comes out to play. Last weekend, the city soaked up a plethora of music with the Rhythm and Blooms festival, which coincided with First Friday on the 5th and  a chalk walk on Market Square on the 6th.  At First Friday, I had the privilege of seeing my friend Rachel Vykukal's exhibit at the 2 Many Pixels Gallery on Jackson. I also got to visit my friend Craig at the new store space for Nouveau Classics. Their showroom is really beautiful and the owner and staff as just as welcoming and sweet as they can be. All of the galleries in the area were open and my friends, Amanda Kinney and Thomas Smith of An Atlas to Follow, were performing at URBhana, which had artwork by Cynthia Markert on display.

On Saturday, the square was bustling with children and dogs and artists and street performers. It was so much fun to get out in the sunshine and see my neighbors and, of course, eat some Cruze Farm Girl  icecream. Seriously, folks, it is the best, and the truest sign of spring is seeing that van parked off the square and the line of people snaked around waiting to get a taste of the new flavors.  I enjoyed a mini cone of Coffee Toffee ice cream and I can tell you that it is one of my favorite reasons to head to Market Square from May through   September. On Sunday, when I went back to Market Square to look at the finished chalk art with a friend, the staff of Cruze Farm were celebrating the birthday of one of their employees by giving out free chocolate cake from Magpie's and some Lemon Buttermilk ice cream. I really do just love spring time in our Scruffy little city.

Nice Christian Boys

"And can I say something to young ladies here? I’m trying to pick my words carefully here. Your husband, whoever he is, will have an unbelievable amount of influence over your sons and daughters in regard to spiritual things. If you want your children to love Jesus deeply, hold out for a man that is godly. And let me tell you this, I am well aware that godly men are rare. There are a lot of neat Christian boys but not a lot of godly men. And we’re working our tails off, for you, to try to develop some into that. But don’t settle, because it’s better that you be lonely now than you be married and lonely later. Are you tracking with me? It is better that you be lonely now than for you to get married to a man who’ll teach your kids everything but the way of Jesus." - Matt Chandler ( from the sermon Hebrews Part 14: Ritual on April 9th, 2006)


Lately, the guys have kind of been coming out of the woodwork. Don't get excited, I'm still me, which means there is not a shot in hell that these guys are gonna be around for long. I am an extra intense weirdo. It's cool though, because it is both a great strength and great weakness.

I will be twenty eight in a few weeks, and believe me when I say, I totally thought I would be married by now. When I got saved, I thought I would meet the man of my dreams, that we would have a house full of kids and we would be doing something awesome for Jesus. I mean, come on, that sounds like an excellent plan, right?  Why didn't God get on board?

The guys that have buzzing around have been all over the spectrum;  boys of desert faith, agnostic, atheists, seekers, doubters. And they are interested in me, because like many people, faith is fluid, and surely not to be taken all that seriously. Their cousin/brother/best friend is talking to/sleeping with/dating/married to a Christian girl and even though they don't have that spiritual connection, it all seems to be working out just fine. They think that, surely, my faith cannot be all that important since I seem to be so rational and logical (obviously, these people do not know me very well). But the truth is, my faith is a barrier between me and these guys.

I'll be honest, I like lots of boys, even boys that are not Christians. And I have made out (I know, gasp) with a lot of boys that will never be my husband. It's shitty, I wish that I hadn't, but it's the reality of my sin.  But eventually, no matter how attractive, or nice, or persistent, the thing I always get back to is that these are not "forever" guys. These boys that think I am pretty or want to ask me out on dates or just kiss me...they don't understand my faith and so they don't understand who I am at the very core. My heart, ultimately, belongs to Jesus. I am not willing to give that up, I am not willing to compromise, I am not willing to put that to the side in order to avoid being alone.

I was talking to some friends, a guy and two girls, the other night about wanting to find a spouse and really looking for someone godly.  We all agree, we are NOT looking for someone perfect, we do not believe that marriage is gonna be a fairy tale, we DON'T have these impossible standards that we want this person to meet, our spouse will NOT be our savior. Our spouse will be human, flawed and frail. Our spouse will let us down. They will make mistakes.We will take that bad...with the good of knowing that they are striving after Jesus, that they are leaning into his will and seeking mercy and grace at the cross. We can settle for imperfection but we cannot settle for someone who is not madly in love with Jesus. That means atheists or nice Christian boys.

For a long time, I was a nice Christian girl. I looked the part, I was involved in church, sang in the choir, went to Christian camps but I didn't really love Jesus and I certainly didn't look to him for any sort of guidance. He was in my pocket to pull out when I needed someone to ask a favor from or to blame when things weren't going my way.  But eventually, my world was rocked and I realized how much Jesus loved me, despite all my garbage and sin and misguided attempts to please him, and I wanted nothing more than to choose him. And that is the kind of man I want, someone who desperately needs Jesus and who realizes that I desperately need Jesus. Not someone who is looking to themselves to be good, to fix their own problems, to make themselves better because they will expect it from me, and it is something that I cannot do.

I am alone right now, and sometimes, I act badly in that. I do not do the things that I always should do, because I tend to be impatient and forget what God has done for me and who He is and who he has called me to be and what he has promised. I may never get married, I am not saying that God has promised me that, but his Son's death promised me a life that is full and abundant. He has called me to great things for his kingdom even if those things aren't super clear right now. And in the event that I do get married, I want to walk with someone who pursuing a God who has promised him the same thing and is living out of the calling that God has placed on his life. My spouse will not walk perfectly, as I will not walk perfectly, but after the falls, he and I will both remember that we are following hard after a Savior who was willing to give up everything so that we could come to him and love him. So, I keep waiting, praying for that man to come along, and choosing not to settle.

Funny, You're the broken one

but I'm the only one who needed saving -Rihanna

It's Holy week. The week between Palm Sunday and Easter Sunday. It is hard to believe that the Lenten season is almost over but we are just a few short days away from celebrating the greatest triumph the world has yet to see.

I like to sing and my church has a choir twice a year, for Advent and for Easter, so I like get in on the action. This year we will hold a Good Friday service. When I found out I was, let's say, less than pleased. Good Friday?  But it is so morose and morbid. I mean, really, we all know Jesus died, but who wants to sing all about that without the victorious ending of Easter? Those are the songs people really want, the songs that tell about how he won, not about how he might have been beaten.

But we need Good Friday, we need to be reminded that he suffered. He was murdered. For us. We need his broken body, and his sweat and tears and blood. We need it to cover all the sin and shame. We need it for salvation.  We ourselves, could NEVER have done it. Believe me, I want to be able to do it myself. I want to not need Jesus. I want to be able to make it on my own. But my suffering is not enough because it comes for an imperfect sacrifice, a dove, dirty and defective and sick. But he was spotless, free from blemish, a flawless Lamb to present to God. We need Good Friday to be reminded of our lacking, our neediness.

We need to be reminded that for 36 hours or so the whole universe held its breathe and wondered if the only hope we had was really no hope at all. These promises had been made; that he would set the captives free and he would bind up the brokenhearted and comfort those who mourn, but he hung on a cross, a enemy of the state, a prisoner who did not loose himself or the criminals betwixt whom he hung. His mother and his followers were terrified and distraught. They were losing a man they loved, they too had sacrificed so much and did not know if it was going to be worth it, if all the thing he said weren't just the rants of a delusional man.

That waiting, that anticipation. We do it now. Yes, Easter is the greatest triumph that this world has known. But, we wait and we groan, longing for the day when this victory is complete. When we are with our Savior forever. Good Friday is a place where we hold our breathe, wondering if Jesus' promises are going to be fulfilled and when they are on Easter Sunday, we can trust that it is the same for us as we wait for him to come again.

Not My Heart

Kisses

pass between lips

and tongues

stained red

and we fall

into your unmade bed

it smells

of loneliness

and you reach

inside me

and pull out

my blackest part

not my heart

I gave it away

long ago

to the man before you

or maybe

before him

I don’t remember

ripping little pieces out

flinging them

to a boy

with golden eyes

to a man with copper skin

with hair dark as obsidian

so as you hold me

in your arms

lay your head on my chest

you will hear

nothing

just hollow 

empty 

silence

and the tears

that wet my cheeks

are akin to those of

crocodiles

weak imitations

shadows of the real thing

I no longer

mourn

what used to be

You make me new, You are making me new...

"Unfortunately, some of us fool ourselves into believing we can manage our sin, because we can stop doing some things...We think that because our will was sufficient enough to change some habits, we can tackle the big dog of sin. Sin can not be managed. If we make this our goal in repentance, we are doomed to fail...Confession does not resolve our sin either. We can be sorry for something we have done wrong, and even confess it, and desire tto continue doing it. Agreeing that we have done something wrong is not the same as trusting God with what we have done. Confession is not the same as truly needing God to free us of the sin we have done. Sin is resolved when we are cleansed of it, and only dependence upon the Cross of Jesus cleanses us from sin." TrueFaced by Bill Thrall, Bruce Nicol, and John Lynch

"I've been doing so well since October."
"Welp, y'all, guess Erin is gonna have to put me back on her prayer list."
"I am such a fool."
"Y'all, I'm just gonna start having these people pay for my counseling sessions."
"I can't believe I did this again!"
"I hate my sin so much, I'm so tired of it."
"I just don't really want to be that human."
"I really hate my sin more because I want other people to think that I am good and less because of what God thinks of it."
"I am so stupid."

These are all things I have said since Wednesday. I am by nature a person who longs to manage my sin.  I want to muscle through it. I want to make it right. I want to fix me, because if I am the cause of the problem than surely I must be the one who can smooth it over, make it right. I can find a way to make myself better. I can bite my lip and pinch myself and clinch my fist and squeeze my eyes shut and make myself stop doing stupid shit.

I am by nature a confessor.  I cannot hold in my mistakes, my misdeeds, my outright failures. If I were Catholic, I would be at mass daily. I'm pretty sure my crap falls on the "mortal sin" list.  So, I confess, because it is too much for me to carry alone. My sin weighs heavy on me. Races through my mind. I can't push it down and pretend it away, block it out. I need someone else to know, to help me process it, to help me understand why I keep doing the same things over and over and expecting there to be different consequences.

I am by nature NOT a repenter. I want to be. I strive to be. But the truth is, my sin keeps coming to get me. I don't keep it out. I go to the store, purchase it, and call it a kitten, when really it is a hungry, full grown lioness with babies at home and I am the only living thing in the house. I pet my sin and believe that it loves me and that it will make me happy and while I think it is licking my hand out of affection, in reality, she is just playing with her food before she eats it. I am a fool.

Lent is a good reminder that my sin cost Someone something, everything. I don't have to manage my sin because it was beaten at the cross. I can confess my sin to Jesus, because he hears me and he is not ashamed of me, he does not turn away from me, he does not stop loving me. And I can repent from my sin and walk with Christ as he makes me new. Repentance is not about me willing myself to do better, repentance is about trusting that God is powerful enough to redeem me from my sin, to forgive me and to heal me from the sins I have committed. He takes those claw marks and the places where my flesh is ripped away from the muscle and the bones are poking through the skin and puts it all back together. Even though I gave myself over to be mauled, he looks on me with compassion. He doesn't throw it in my face and say 'This is the last time I am going to help you out of this mess." He doesn't treat me like I am a waste of his sacrifice and love and energy and effort. He just stitches me up and holds me in his arms and wipes away my tears and promises me his love.