Behind the Scenes

Several weeks ago, my fiance and I entered into what we call "super save mode," meaning we don't buy anything we don't absolutely need. What pushed us into "super save mode" was simply life. With a wedding and honeymoon to pay for all our own, him still in school, and me about to start cosmetology school in a couple months, we knew we couldn't afford to throw our money on things we didn't need.

We were doing great with our new saving plans, and even found ways to do stuff with friends that wouldn't cost much, if anything. Then we were hit with some pretty rough news.

The VA was cutting John's funding early. That meant no monthly housing allowance that he had been using for rent, bills, and food for the last year and a half. It also meant that the last five weeks of his schooling would not be paid for. We were both very grateful that his school is allowing him to put off paying the remainder until he graduates, but with all the saving we already needed to do, that extra blow really hurt.

Knowing I would have to help with his rent and bills on top of my own. it was easy for my mind to jump straight to thoughts of desperation we all have when something big or scar is thrust into our laps unexpectedly. I'm sure you know the thoughts I'm talking about. They often come in the form of "why" questions.

Why is this happening to me?

Why me?

Why didn't God do something to stop this?

But as quickly as those questions crossed my mind, they blew away. Because I remembered ways God had provided in the past and I knew His nature hadn't changed since then. I knew He would provide again. So, following the advice of my mother (as moms always give the best advice), I began to pray. I didn't pray that He would provide, for I already was sure of this fact. Instead I began thanking Him for what I already knew He would do, but had not yet happened.

While I already had peace about the situation, something about putting my faith into action in this way seemed to solidify my surety that it would be taken care of even more so.

Then, as He often likes to do, God surprised me. The very evening the new hit, I came home to find a piece of mail sitting on the table, addressed to me, from my school. I opened it to find a response to a scholarship I had applied for--one I had been told was for $500. Upon reading the letter, I found that I had not been awarded 500, but $1000!

Already His provision was showing up.

While I may not know how the rest of this mess will be sorted out, my heart cannot help but rejoice in what I know He is doing behind the scenes.

In times like these, I often let the holy Spirit speak to me through music, as He is so good at doing. This time around, he keeps drawing my mind back to The Day That I Found God, off Switchfoot's new album, Where the Light Shines Through.

This noose ain't getting any looser.

I get so fearful about the future.

I feel the shame of my accuser,

But that ain't you.

The accuser, the father of lies, wants nothing more than to distract us from what the Lord is doing in our lives. Do not buy into the lies he throws your was in an attempt to blind you with shame over things you cannot help.

Where is Go out in the darkness?

'Cause the voices in my head ain't talking honest,

Saying maybe you made us then forgot us,

But that ain't you. That ain't you, no!

And all I know is that I still don't know a lot.

I don't know how it ends, I'm in the middle of this plot.

Yeah, I found grace for the man that I am not.

I found out the day I lost myself was the day that I found God. 

God didn't forget you. He is working right now, whether we can see it right now or not. We are still in the middle of this story, by the end it will all make sense and we will see all he's done for us along the way. One crisis doesn't mean it's over. For God likes to show up in the place where we've lost everything. Especially ourselves.

I hope that my experience may encourage you to have faith that whatever may be going on in your life or whatever is going on in the world that makes you wonder where God is or what He is doing, that He is working for you constantly, behind the scenes.

Our Brother Redeemer

It's been a while since I've written any posts, and for that I apologize, especially to my random readers from outside the country (I don't know who you are or how you found me, but you guys are awesome!). And by "a while," I mean about nine weeks. Between editing my first book for a third time, starting its sequel, getting engaged, and going with my fiance to multiple different doctor's appointments, life was just so busy I didn't have time to think of what I would blog about, let alone do my research and write the blog.
But today I am here to put that to an end! For now, that is.

That being said, last week my daily bible study found me in the book of Ruth. This tiny book, sandwiched between Judges and 1 Samuel, is often overlooked because of its size. Despite that, the story of Ruth is an amazing one. For those who don't know the story, allow me to summarize.

There was once a woman named Naomi who had two sons. She and her husband and sons moved to Moab, where the sons married two Moabite women. Within ten years, both Naomi's husband and her two sons had died, leaving her with her daughters-in-law, Orpah and Ruth. Naomi, wanting now to return to her own people, urged the girls to stay with their own and find new husbands. While Orpah took the offer, Ruth refused to let her dear mother-in-law return home alone. In an act of loyalty, Ruth proclaimed, "Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God."
When they got back to Judah, Naomi remembered her husband's relative, Boaz, who owned many fields. She instructed Ruth to follow his workers and gather what they left behind in their harvesting. Boaz took kindness on her and told her to gather only in his field, where she would be safe from those who wished to take advantage of her. Meanwhile, he told his workers to leave extra behind so she and Naomi would have plenty to eat.
Now, in biblical times, if a woman was widowed, it was the job of the nearest relative on the husband's side to redeem her in marriage so she would not be left husbandless. Knowing that Boaz was related to her husband, Naomi sent Ruth to appeal to him. When Ruth found Boaz, he was working on his threshing floor, and she waited until he stopped to eat supper and rest before she made her appeal. Then Boaz, wanting to be fair, told Ruth that there was someone nearer of kin than he, who he would seek out and see if the other man was willing to marry Ruth. He also said that if the kinsman-redeemer was unwilling that he would, "as surely as the Lord lives," do it himself. He then, invited Ruth to sleep at his feet that night so she would not have to walk home in the dark and be vulnerable to predators of the night.

For a while, I thought the main point of Ruth's story in the bible narrative was simple because it is the story of King David's great-grandparents. But this time, something struck me that was so much deeper, especially when reading verse 13 of chapter 3 where Boaz says, "Stay the night, and in the morning if he wants to redeem, good; let him redeem. But if he is not willing, as surely as the Lord lives I will do it. Lie here until morning."
Boaz and Ruth's story is so much more than just a story of David's lineage, it is also an excellent parallel of God and us. Boaz took in Ruth as a protector when she was dirty, homeless, and rejected, sending her away with the food she needed to survive. God in the same way protects us from the forces of darkness and provides us with what we need to survive in this sin battered world. He pursues us further by instructing us to turn to no one else for protection and provision, knowing none else could satisfy our hearts like He could in the same way Boaz told Ruth to work only in his fields where even his workers would protect her from harm. And in the same way Boaz stepped in to fulfill a law that Ruth could not fulfill by herself, God came down to our level to show us His love by fulfilling the Law which we could not keep on our own so that we may live the life he designed for us to live--one where we are not vulnerable, alone, or unloved.

The Frustrating Beauty of Relationships

If, like me, you've ever experienced what it's like to truly click with someone, you understand what I mean when I say it is both a beautiful and frustrating experience. To those who have never experienced this, what I just described makes absolutely no sense. So, for any who are not completely sure what I mean, allow me to explain.

There are these wonderfully rare moments in life where you meet someone with whom you can just connect. The connection is strong and seemingly illogical. Or at least, it looks that way in light of a society that tells us people must earn our trust and prove they are worth having in our life before we keep them around. But these sorts of friendships are different. They blossom out of seeming nothingness. They reach a level of mutual trust and depth that would normally take months or even years, depending on the person, to develop. Instead they form in only a fraction of the time. I'm talking a matter of days or weeks.
I find these sorts of friendships to be the purest sorts of friendships, for they form out of trust and understanding when, logically, there is no reason to offer either. But since when was love logical?

Isn't that, though, what makes friendship one of the most beautiful and mysterious things about human existence? For life is a journey, and when we form any sort of relationship with someone, we allow our life paths to coincide for a season, if not longer.
But just as you can't rush through any other part of your life journey--the ups and downs, the joys and struggles, the love and loss--you can't rush through a relationship. When we forget this simple truth is when the frustration I spoke of sets in.
There is actually a word for it, according to the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows. Its adronitis, which they describe as the "frustration with how long it takes to get to know someone."

I had been feeling this very frustration for several weeks before I discovered this definition in one of the many times I was wasting time on Facebook rather than doing something productive. And it got me thinking. Why does this frustration even exist?
Before I even had time to think in depth on the question, a thought popped in my head, "It's because you're so close."

And really, that's exactly it. Like I said, most friendships take a while to form depth, only very rarely do you meet someone you can have such a strong connection with instantly. We usually have to wait months to reach a point where we feel comfortable like that with someone, in that time we've lived life together and grown in the slow deliberate way that life paths frequently like to take. But when one of these rare friendships comes about, we forget that we've only known the other person for a short period of time, despite how comfortable we feel with them. We forget that just because we trust the other on this level that would normally take longer to reach, doesn't mean we have walked through the life with them we normally would have to walk through to reach that level of trust.
If you've ever heard someone say something along the lines of, "I feel like we've known each other forever, but also like it hasn't been that long at all," then they are probably talking about one of these beautifully frustrating friendships.

In my time thinking about these friendships, and just friendships in general, I began marveling at their beauty more than ever. For the very fact that each and every one of us longs for companionship shows our Maker's mark more than anything else I can think of. This desire to not only be loved, but to love others in return is one of the many beautiful ways our relational Creator made us in His image. After all, He made someone else for Adam, not because He wasn't enough for Adam, but because Adam needed a place to pour out all the love the Father was pouring into him.
And it is in these rare, unquestioning, deep friendships that pop up out of seemingly nowhere that I see God the most. For just like with those friends we're close to, but don't quite yet know fully, when we first delve into a relationship with He who made us, this trust  and understanding comes quickly, but full knowledge of His nature and character takes a life time to grasp.

Maybe we should learn a thing or two from this picture. Maybe this deep trust and slow learning was the way He intended it. Maybe we should learn to be more forgiving and nonjudgmental in our relationships, then patiently walk through life together.

Stuck In a Glass Maze World

About a year ago, I had the fun opportunity to spend a day with some friends at the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art in Kansas City. Not only is the museum itself huge, with multiple levels (including some underground levels), containing art from various time periods, cultures, and places, but the grounds are also filled with many modern sculptures. During this particular trip to the Nelson, my friends and I decided to wander the grounds in search of the giant metal tree that we heard had been added earlier that year. On our search, we came across a curious addition I had never seen before. Standing just down hill from the monstrous and beautiful silver tree was a glass maze. While not very big, the maze was still easy to get turned around in. With the glass kept amazingly clean, it wasn't hard to miss a turn and accidentally run into the opposite wall or get turned around and pass a needed turn to reach the maze's center (especially if you didn't want to look like a fool by bumping into walls over and over again).


I think in much the same way, we let ourselves get trapped by what we're told and the lies we tell ourselves. Lies like: I'm not good enough. 
I'm not smart enough. 
I'm not attractive enough. 
I'm too young. 
I'm too old. 
I have nothing to say, nothing to offer, and no where to go. 
I'll. Never. Amount. To. Anything.
"ENOUGH! Enough with the lies!" I want to scream, but if you're alive and breathing in the twenty-first century, especially twenty-first century America with its image saturated culture, you know that thoughts like these, or at least thoughts very similar to these, pop up everywhere.
But these lies trap us in the same way the glass maze traps us. For we can see outside the maze, we can see life going on beyond the glass, we can even communicate with those on the outside, but we cannot hear them clearly through the glass. We can't really connect. Or at least not the way our hearts long to connect.
These lies keep us stuck behind this glass with no true connection, making us feel isolated, even when surrounded by those who love and care about us. And when we finally get fed up with feeling this way, we start to look for a way out. But just like with the glass maze, we are too embarrassed by our insecurities. We won't let ourselves bump into the walls, even if it will help us find the right path sooner, because we don't want those around us to know that we feel trapped. We don't want them to see it. In doing so, we hide even more, further trapping ourselves and maintaining that we never connect with anyone.

As usual, I want to take this even further. I want to look into why we believe these lies about ourselves in the first place. I've learned in recent months that these glass walls that keep me feeling isolated are created by lies I've come to believe about myself. Sadly, many never realize this, because our enemy is crafty. He has mastered the art of lies, spinning them until they look like truths we can't easily dismiss.
But why are these lies so appealing if they make us feel so horrible about ourselves? I think it all comes down to who we think we are and who we think God is.
The day I started to tear down these lies is the day I realized that if God is who I think He is, then my image of myself  did not align with what I believed. If God is loving, compassionate, creative, and all powerful, and he made me in His image, then shouldn't I, as a follower of Him, be more than capable to do great things?
I mean, this logic makes sense, doesn't it? Then how come this isn't the logic used by many of us? What I think it all roots back to is what we think of God. If you're like me and you believe Him to truly be the Lover of your soul, then this logic isn't hard to follow. But how many people really believe Him to be these things?

My mom recently told me about a children's storybook bible she heard about where the author, having to summarize things to make sense to little kids, summarized all the lies that the serpent told Eve in Genesis 3 with one doubt instilling question, "Does God really love you?"
Well? Does He?
If you aren't sure on that, then I can tell you from personal past experience that you aren't going to have an easy time breaking down those lies.

Pits and Valleys

So, it's been a little while since I've written anything. Usually when I have these bouts of not blogging, it is because I am so wrapped up in my novel, or simply because I haven't quite put together a thought on what God's been teaching me that's straight enough to blog about. Or at least not straight enough to blog about in my preferred style, complete with examples, analogies, and stories.
But these last few weeks that has not been the case.

The thing is, I haven't been putting a lot of effort into my novel recently or even my relationship with God. That's not to say I didn't have the desire to do either, because I did. I longed for my creative highs and my peaceful mornings spent in the word. But over the last few weeks, those "peaceful mornings" have been filled with depression, distraction, and stress. While the depression would leave me once I got myself out of bed and moving, the stress and distractions would always linger through much of the day, bringing my focus levels to an all time low. With the desire to move forward, but no attention span, my motivation quickly dwindled. Every morning I would ask God, "Please, show me something. Bring me closer to you this day. I want to know you more." And while each day I found some small rarity in a passage I would never have looked in to find out anything more about my wonderful Creator, that step forward was always accompanied by several tiny steps back. The pattern left me feeling stuck. Like I was making progress, but not enough to get any forward momentum. Like a conveyor belt was moving beneath me, but my feet were strapped with lead and I could do nothing more than shuffle along just fast enough to stay exactly where I was, all while longingly staring at what I most desperately wanted at the end of the belt.

I reached a point where I was getting angry. Somewhat with myself, somewhat with God, but mostly just with this feeling of being stuck that I couldn't seem to shake. This distracted mindset that kept me from doing what I know I must do. I found myself thinking things like, "What's the point? I'm not getting anything out of this," or, "I can help people. I have before, I want to again, but how can I do that when I can't even connect to the One who gave me my heart for others?" or even, "If writing is my calling and I can't get myself to write, what am I?"
But I continued to do what I've been doing since this spring. I continued praying (Or trying to. Apparently it's very hard to pray when your mind can't stay focused on one thing for more than twenty seconds. Who knew.) and continued reading my bible every day. Even when I got to boring chapters Exodus 25, which for those who don't know, is the first of several chapters just about how to build the tabernacle and the sacred objects within it. Even on those chapters, I tried to find something to underline, something to write about, something that showed me more of human nature or God's character. But despite my efforts to find something even in these chapters, I still felt stuck. I was still plodding against the conveyor belt endlessly with no end in sight.

Then, Wednesday evening, after a morning of maximum frustration and extremely low motivation levels that led to me laying on the floor for hours with no will to move, God began showing me things that He's apparently been trying to teach me these last few weeks, but I never noticed.
It started when I went out to dinner with a new friend. I had recently asked him where his faith was in a very silly manner, and he told me it hasn't been that great in a while, but that he thinks it's getting better now. During dinner, he decided to shed a little more light on the picture, and after telling me what caused his faith to plummet in the first place, he said something that surprised me. He told me that before he started to talk to me, his relationship with God and his desire to go to church was a giant shrug. He said that if anyone ever tried to talk to him about Jesus, he would just wave it off and be over all indifferent towards it. Having already noticed some of these patterns and knowing what I had just learned about his past, I was not surprised by this confession. What surprised me was when he said, "Talking to you, things are starting to sink in more. I actually want to try to have a relationship with God again. When you invited me to come to church, instead of my normal habit of making up an excuse for why I couldn't go, I wanted to figure out a way to make it work. I wanted to try again."
I was stunned. For literally most of the time I've known him, I have felt like I was shuffling endlessly on that belt, with no way to take the weights from my feet that were slowing me down and keeping me from sprinting to the end. But despite that, God had still used me to make an impact on his life.
I was stunned, I was happy, I almost didn't believe it, but the inflection in his voice showed that he meant every word he said. I didn't know what to do with the information at first.

It wasn't until later that night, after movie night with friends was over and I was laying alone in my bed did it really settle. God used me, to touch the heart of someone who had long since shrugged Him off. I didn't do anything. How could I have, after all? I was struggling in my pursuit of my dreams and my faith. But that doesn't make a difference in God's kingdom. For God isn't just there in my mountain top experiences, where I feel Him close and see Him everywhere, but he is also in my dark valleys, where I can't see Him beside me or even feel His hand guiding me. But just because I don't feel Him or don't see Him, doesn't mean He isn't there or isn't working.

I would like to take this one step further and remind you that God works in mysterious ways. He doesn't only use those who are trying to follow Him (even those in a spiritual funk, as I have been) to further His kingdom, but even those who either don't realize He's there or don't see Him working.
A good friend of mine has recently been learning what it looks like to love unconditionally. To love someone just for being a person, not because of how they perform, treat you, or meet up to expectations. She's been learning what it means to let go of hurt and act instead out of love, rather than holding onto that hurt and letting it effect the way she treats others.

The other day, she and I had a bit of a dispute about the friend mentioned in my previous story. In a nut shell, she thought I was being too nonjudgmental, while I thought she was being too judgmental. A very unneededly long story short, she texts me after movie night and shares several realizations about how God is with her not only as support in her hard times, but also in her good times. After sharing this epiphany, she says, "I did realize though, that he's a person God loves, and that I haven't been very loving."

We, as people, tend to do whatever we want, but that doesn't mean God can't use us or our circumstances wherever we are and whatever they happen to be to bring about something beautiful.
Hardship doesn't need to be just that. It can be more. God can use it in ways we wouldn't imagine. After all, He used my friend with the decade old, half abandoned faith to teach my bestie what it means to love. If God can use me in my spiritual blah, or him and all the things that went into his turning away from the faith to impact the lives of others, can't He also use the poor circumstances in your life for something bigger, something you never will see coming?

The Spirit's Whispers

Happiness is good, and there's days where I crave it,

But those days are usually dark and lonely 

Where I forget that the root word of happiness is happen 

And that happiness is connected to circumstance and what we can get out of life.
On those days I forget that joy is what I really need.
That joy is a seed planted in my heart by a loving Father,
That no matter how unhappy my circumstances may seem,
That seed of joy will grow into a tree with hope as its roots and peace as its branches.

And somewhere in that growth my heart will learn to love again
And see people despite the sin that plagues them. 

For it plagues me too.
Because aren't we all the same?
Stuck in this disease called humanity that grips our minds
And in time we stop seeing the truth.
Though it affects most things we do, it's not who we are,
For we are more than our actions and scars-- 

We are souls seeking refuge in a stormy sea, 

But despite what we're told and despite what we think, that refuge is never the boat
That teeters and rears and tries to stay afloat atop the waves.
While our bodies want the boat's "safety," our spirits long to be saved.
Through the cries of our flesh, the Spirit whispers underneath,

"Take hold of his reach. Cant you see? 

The creator of your soul has asked you to be not of the storm but above it,
Walking the waves as if it were pavement."

Sticks and Stones

If you've been reading my blog from the beginning, or even just a few once in a while, you've probably heard me talk about a writer's conference called Re:Write and how things I learned there and the people I met changed me so much for the better. Well, what I haven't mentioned in my blog is the steps that came before that. The things that lead me to the huge weekend of self discovery that happened to me at this conference. Part of why I never mentioned these things is because until recently I wasn't even sure what started this chain reaction. It's hard sometimes, even once you've reached the end of a road, to look back and see the journey. The road snakes back on itself, sometimes parts of it are hidden. But sometimes it's good to revisit parts of your journey just so you can see how far you've come and learn new things from old situations.

Now, I'm not saying you should revisit everything, because there are certainly things that should remain only in the past, but there are still some things that you may appreciate more or learn more from now than you did when you first discovered them.

A few weeks before Re:Write, my sister shared a very impacting spoken word video on facebook.

I'm not sure if this began the domino effect of seeking myself and God in a deeper way, but I do .know it was an important domino somewhere in the chain. Emotional after watching the video and truly appreciating the idea that I recently realized would later evolve into the quote I shared in my last post about beauty, I decided to bare my soul to my large group of friends and acquaintances on facebook.

So, without further explanation, here is the video and the post that followed:

Growing up I was called obsessive, freak, crazy. Why? Because I was passionate and my mind moved a million miles a minute, causing me to have difficulty expressing myself and things that I loved in a "normal" way. Because of these names, I felt less than normal. At first that was okay. I retreated into my book, my fantasies, and my mind because I didn't even really understand myself.

Seventh and eight grade I saw people had friends, people shared what they were interested in and found people with common ground. I had been quiet and to myself for so long, I forgot. I forgot the labels they had given me. I spoke up. But still, I didn't understand me, not even to share who I was easily. So it came out in messy bursts of extreme emotions: excitement, anxiety, and passion. These things aren't normal. Or at least they aren't in middle school, where if you aren't painted in shades of the same boring gray as everyone else, you're abnormal.

Freak and crazy, some called me. But these didn't bother me as much as obsessed. I love words, I always have. And as a thirteen year old, I looked up the definition. "To think about something unceasingly or persistently; to dominate or preoccupy the thoughts or haunt persistently or abnormally"

There was that word again. Abnormal. So who was I then? I didn't belong to any bigger puzzle. I was not a masterpiece. I was abnormal. Broken. A discarded extra piece that didn't make sense.

Wanting to be loved and understood desperately, I put on a mask of shades of gray, hoping it would hide my crazy. But I found that I still couldn't relate to people, because I wasn't giving them me.I shut down emotionally to avoid the pain that came with the severe isolation I felt. I was lost in in a sea on shades of gray. I needed help. I was crying out for acceptance, but my mask had become so good at hiding who I was, that those around me couldn't even see I was in pain. Finally, through much pain, I threw the mask away, and exposed the deep emotional wound to the harsh air. Grace and love pored in. For the first time I had hope.

I was sixteen.

Since then, I've come to learn more about myself and how my mind works. It's a mess, and it doesn't make sense to even me sometimes, but I have found a way to harness that mess and turn it into something beautiful. I am writing a book. I do what some still call obsessive research and reading so I can improve my skills as much as possible. I'm still excessively loud, overly passionate, and into some things that aren't classified as "normal."

Although I'm not called these names that frequently any more, to this day, they still make me flinch. The way I thought no one understood me, or really saw who I was for so long affects how I think about my relationships. It still makes me second guess the genuineness of some of my friendships from time to time. I have to remind myself that those lies I once believed are not true.

What were your names?

I wrote this post six months ago. No longer do I flinch at these names. But watching this video and reading six months ago me's thoughts, I understand a little more about what I've been learning about myself, God, and beauty now.
After rewatching that video for the first time in six months, I was hit especially hard when the speaker said the line, "She's raising two kids whose definition of beauty begins with the word Mom."
And yet she still doesn't see her beauty because of the names she was called and the masks she wore to hide her pain. How many of us does this describe?
From the twenty years of life I've lived, it looks like too many. More than it should be, anyway.
I was one of these, I tried to cover myself up, because the names they called hurt too much and I couldn't bare to let the people see that my heart was nothing more than an unwanted flower trampled in the street.

And when I think about where I was, and where I still see people today, I can't help but identify with the last line of this poem, "Our lives will only ever always continue to be a balancing act that has less to do with pain and more to do with beauty," because if you think about it, that's what we were and are doing, isn't it?
We put on masks to draw attention away from the pain in our eyes at the cruel words spoken. We put make up on our scars and build walls around our hearts, because if someone saw our stories, lives, beauty, then maybe they would disapprove and call us names to make themselves feel less broken.

For isn't that all they are? The same as us. Broken souls in a never ending struggle with beauty.

So, just as I asked six months ago, what were the jabs made at your beauty?
What were your names?

The Language Of the Soul

Not so long ago, maybe a month or so, a few of my fellow fiction writers made a proposition to me. It went something like this, "Hey! We're going to start role playing characters from our books so we can get to know them better. Want to join?"


My head basically exploded.

Whether you know me or not, you probably don't know about my role playing addiction unless you were one of my role play partners in the past. But it really is no less than an addiction. So when I was invited to join them on this, excitement immediately filled me. I had a hard time containing it.
I knew the purpose of the sequence we were creating was to get to know characters better that we don't know very well, but I chose my most familiar character even though the character in my current work in progress could really use a lot of developing.
"Why?" might be your first question asked.
Well, it's because like role play, which I hadn't participated in in over a year, it had also been some time since I had written fantasy.
Fantasy's my jam. Fantasy's my passion. I eat, sleep, and breathe fantasy!
So even just the two short months I've spent writing something outside the genre has been killer for me.
So choosing Behmyn seemed like a no-brainer.

Now let me give you a little background on Behmyn before I get to want I really want to talk about.
Behmyn is a thinker. Behmyn is deep. He is broken. He has experienced many hurts in his past and has a poor tendency to blame himself for things he couldn't really have helped or stopped. But he is also loyal and protective. He tried to protect himself from getting hurt again, but he loves people too much to distance himself from them completely. He also loves animals and being outdoors. He is a hunter. He is also going blind.
Behmyn has been in my head for upwards end of seven years. First he was forming slowly. He didn't have a name, he didn't really have a form, but he was there. Then in September of 2010, I breathed him to life. He started as a character I role played online. After three and a half years really forming him into what he is now, I stopped role playing and moved him to a story I was writing. A trilogy. The first book of which is in my editor's hands.

All that being said, I didn't expect to learn anything from or about Behmyn in this little game we'd come up with. I would tell people we were doing it so they could get to know their characters better, except for me, because I was just doing it for fun.
Then he surprised me several nights ago with a speech about beauty.
Behmyn, like I, believes beauty is everywhere. In all honesty, I'm not entirely sure who believed it first. I'd like to say it was him, but maybe it was there in me, just buried where I couldn't see it until he brought it out. But through experimenting with a character who loves beauty, but can no longer see, I learned so much more about what beauty is and isn't than I ever did before Behmyn happened.
His view on beauty is the very core of his being. Without it, he does not exist, yet in all my years getting to know him, I have never viewed his passion in such a raw sense as he did in this speech.

He was talking with a young woman who was very deeply effected by the rules and standards of her society. A society that put people down and tried to keep them from feeling like they could express who they really are. After a while, she shared with him that she had never heard someone speak so openly about their inner thoughts before. She said that she, along with many others, were taught that beauty is dangerous and must be hidden at all costs.

Behmyn, and I along with him, ached deep within our souls. Because even though this was a fictitious event my friend and I were typing out, her character's words deeply reflected our own society.
We have taught young people in your society that beauty is not who you are. Who you are is scary, weird, or probably unlikable in some way, so you should hide yourself behind a pretty painted mask rather than showing your true heart and soul to people. It is something I notice every day. I have coworkers who are compulsive liars, making up stuff about their lives to try to make themselves seem, cooler, funnier, more interesting, etc. I hear people complain about them constantly, "And she told you this? You know she lies about everything, right?"
But while they see an attention whore, I see a broken spirit who's bought into the lies this society has fed them. Someone desperately wanting to be loved and accepted, but terrified that who they really are isn't good enough for acceptance.

So, when Behmyn, distressed over hearing people being taught to live like this, began his speech, it resonated deep with me, as with the rest of my friends.
The first thing he said was, "You can't hide beauty without damaging that which holds the beauty."
When I typed that sentence, I didn't even think about it. It just made so much sense. It perfectly described his distress over the situation and his inner passion about beauty. But in my time thinking about it since, I realize just how true his words are.

I mean think about it. Those people taught to hide themselves, the inner beauty of their hearts and souls, behind a mask soon become so damaged by the fear that comes with putting that mask on that they don't even really know who they are anymore. All they have is the mask, tied on by fear. Fear that someone will notice they're hiding. Fear that if their mask is disliked even after all their effort, that they could never love the person beneath the mask. Fear even when people approve of the mask, for the person underneath knows that the mask is a lie.
Pretty soon, even if they wanted to take off the mask, they couldn't. For unreasonable fear has replaced any desire of showing who they really are and crushed any hope of acceptance.

You see, beauty is not skin deep. I am deeply sad for whoever said so.
Beauty isn't something you see with your eyes or understand with your mind, but you feel with your soul. It is everywhere.
It's not just what you can see, but it can be heard and felt. For even with people like the one I just described, I can see glimpses of their beauty shining through the mask. I can see flashes of their passion, joy, humor, and heart. It's in their eyes, it's in their subtle doubts and fears that they don't know I've noticed. There is beauty even in their brokenness. Because out of their brokenness I see one thing, a soul longing to be seen, really seen, and loved deeply. And that is beautiful.

So like I said, I don't know who saw it first, but beauty is something I will always fight for. And hopefully in my own exploration of beauty through Behmyn's story and my own life, I will help others to learn this wonderful language of the soul called Beauty.




Note: I have been praying through Behmyn's story that it will touch those who read it in a special way. That they won't be the same after reading it. But before it can get into the hands of those who are meant to read it, it must be published. Like I said in my post, my manuscript is in the hands of my editor right now. 
But now I would like your prayers and support as I continue on this road of trying to get published. If you could pray for God's hand of guidance on this project and His perfect peace and insight on my current WIP, that would mean a lot to me.

Their Path vs. My Path - Destructive Comparisons

Three months ago, I began a long trek through the gospels. At one chapter a day, I have finally finished. My method was simple. Read through the chapter, underline things that stick out, go back through the chapter with a journal and write down the underlined bits and thoughts/comments/cross referencing.
What better way to wrap up my journey through the gospels than with my favorite chapter in all of the gospel narrative? If you have never read John 21, you really should. It is packed full of awesome stuff. From the way people react to difficult situations, to trust. From what it looks like to actively follow Jesus, to insecurity. The sheer number of things this chapter alludes to is enough for me to spend several blog posts dissecting, but I shall only focus on one.

When most people think of John 21, they think of the all too familiar passage where Jesus asks Peter three times if he loves Him in verses 15-17.
There are many speculations about this passage. What Jesus meant by "Do you love me more than these?" in the first verse could mean a variety of things. Did Peter love the Lord more than he loved his fellow disciples? Did he love Jesus more than his fellow disciples loved Jesus? (For Peter often claimed to have devotion that outweighed the others.) Or maybe, did Peter love Jesus more than he loved these things (his job and his fishing gear)?
Whatever it is Jesus exactly meant by the question, we don't know. Maybe Jesus wasn't specific on purpose. Maybe he phrased it the way he did so Peter could bring to mind whatever he might be putting before God in his mind. Whatever the case, I do believe the threefold question was designed to stand in contrast to the time just a week or so before when Peter denied Jesus three times.

While this is a good passage, people often don't know that the third time Jesus says, "Feed my sheep," isn't the end of the conversation. In fact, it's not even the end of His thought. Within the same breath of saying, "Feed my sheep," Jesus says, "I tell you the truth, when you were younger you dressed yourself and went where you wanted; but when you are old you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go."
As explained by John, who was both listening to this conversation between Peter and Jesus and lived to see Peter's famous upside-down crucifixion, Jesus said this to "indicate the kind of death by which Peter would glorify God."(v. 19)

As you read on, Peter looks back over his shoulder while he and Jesus are walking and talking, and sees John following them. Why John followed them, he doesn't say, but Peter does seem concerned as to what God's plan is for John as well. He asks, "Lord, what about him?" (v.21)
There's some history between John and Peter you should know. Basically it goes like this. Jesus had about 70-80 disciples. The Twelve were his closest. The others would follow most of the time, but the Twelve rarely left his side and were with him during most of the most important things. There were three of the Twelve who were even closer than the others. Simon (who Jesus called Peter, which means "the rock"), John, and his brother, Andrew. Not much is said about Andrew, and, honestly, I think that's because he got it better than John or Peter ever did. If you notice, Peter and John were always trying to prove which one of them was the best. They both wanted to be Jesus' favorite. It kind of makes you wonder if the reason John refers to himself as "the one whom Jesus loved," as he did countless times through out his writings, was because he felt left out after Simon was given a new name by Jesus.

So naturally, with all this competition going on, Peter wanted to know what the Lord had in store for John. Just like Peter, we often look at what God is doing in other people's lives and wonder if God is handing us the short end of the stick. I mean His will in their lives looks so much better than what He's doing for me.

Sometimes, I think, we get so distracted looking at God's path for someone else that we stumble off our own and get lost in the woods around us. According to Jesus' reply to Peter's concern, He seems to hold similar sentiment as I do.

He says, "If I want him to remain alive until I return, what is that to you?"

Jesus wasn't saying John would live forever or anything like that, but asking Peter if he would still trust and love his Lord even if His will was for John to live forever while Peter died.

What I think this all comes down to is whether or not you trust God's will in your life. Yes, His will for someone else's life may look more exciting, fun, or glamorous, but each path has it's mountains, struggles, and pitfalls. We just don't always see that in another person's life because we're looking at it from the outside.
If the answer is "Yes, I do trust God's will in my life," then you shouldn't worry about whether His will for someone else is better than his will for you. 

We just must stop comparing our lives to other's and start trusting God's plan with wonder and faith.

Your path may seem narrow and rocky, but God has some glorious things to show you along the way.

God vs Scars - How Big Is Your God? (Part 2)

Last week I addressed the common phenomenon of doubts and how they can destroy our prayer lives if left unattended to. Many of us have these problems, or have had these problems. Other times, the situation is very different. We can honestly say our God is infinite and his power has no limit, yet something still feels void. We can't seem to pray for very long, because we honestly don't know what it's like to pray with the absolute certain belief that God is bigger than our problems and wants us to prosper, or we don't read our bibles very much, because we don't usually get anything out of it. If you've never experienced this, it will sound like I've just contradicted myself. I mean, I basically just said that sometimes we believe, but don't believe. How does that make sense?

Well, if you're like me, this makes perfect sense. You see, there's two different forms of belief. There's the belief where you accept in your head that something is true based on firm logic and understanding and sometimes even a strong explanation from a trusted source. Then there's core belief. Minds can be changed, opinions can be swayed, but when you know something to be truth with the very core of your being, nothing can change that.

So many of us, though, know something to be true in our heads, but haven't quite fully grasped it in our hearts and spirits. Why is that?
I think it comes down to scars.

Everyone has scars, both emotional and physical. Scars have this funny habit of fading, which is fine and dandy when they're physical (unless, like me, you think scars are kind of cool). I have a scar on my left knee that I got when I was twelve. I crashed my scooter and landed on my face, having to get stitches in my chin (that scar is gone now). I left with a scar on my knee, a little bigger than a nickle. It was pink and weird looking, and when the weather got cold, it turned purple. Now, eight years later, its faded to about the size of a penny and is no longer pink, but a shade just paler than my fair skin. If I didn't point out the slight discoloration, you wouldn't even notice it. It looks like just a part of my skin.
Like physical scars, emotional scars can fade as well, changing to look like who we are, when they were never meant to be there. They can be caused by anything. A falsehood you came to believe about yourself as a child, a poor relationship with a family member or friend, a bad breakup, or any other form of heartbreak. These wounds, like any wound, will scar if they don't heal properly. Like any scar, emotional scars may fade to look like you, but they don't work like you, at least, not how you worked before you were hurt.

Physical scar tissue doesn't stretch and react the way normal skin or muscle tissue is designed to react. I sprained my right knee a few summers ago and didn't let it heal properly. Though I can't see inside my knee, I'm certain all the walking I did on it caused its healing to go too slow and scar tissue to form in my body's attempt to repair itself. Most of the time my knee feels fine, I walk without pain. But once in a while, it hurts, usually when a storm is coming in or seasons are changing or there's any other reason for the atmospheric pressure to change and affect my joints. Nothing else has a problem during those times, just me knee, because my knee doesn't have all it's original tissue, tissue that's designed to expand and flex with the pressure changes. Because scar tissue doesn't stretch, my knee hurts. But until my environment changes to affect my scar, I don't even know it's there, it's become such a part of me.

Emotional scars do the same thing. They block the connection between mind and spirit, but usually we don't notice this block. It's not until we hear or experience something that resonates with us in such a way that we feel the block. We notice that we don't feel the connection while our head is accepting the logic. We understand and agree with what the preacher/teacher/author/artist is saying, but we still have trouble really seeing God in this new understanding, because the scar acts as a dam that blocks the river's flow, a wall that blocks our line of sight, a chain that holds us back.

But what if I told you God sees all your scars and all your deepest wounds and loves you despite the fact that they prevent you from loving Him to your full extent? There is healing for every wound and every scar, no mater how old, deep, or painful. All you must do is identify those scars and the lie that caused them, and lay it at his feet.

The Truth

Today, my daily bible-prayer time brought me to Mark 14. Telling of the events leading up to Jesus arrest and crucifixion, this is one of the longest chapters in Mark. Seeing the length of it this morning was a little surprising, especially since I spend all of my bible-prayer time sitting on a concrete floor:

My Prayer Circle

But today, I knew it would be good somehow. And it was. I found one verse, a verse I've known forever, but never thought much about, that God decided to speak to me through. Let me give you some background first, though.

Jesus and the disciples had just finished celebrating Passover, and had gone to the garden to pray. While those who were set to keep watch dozed rather than staying alert and praying, Judas left to get the high priests who planned on capturing Jesus. Judas returned with a crowd of armed men and gave them his signal as to which one Jesus was.
Then, in verse 48, Jesus said something that stood out to me. He said, "Am I leading a rebellion that you have to come out with swords and clubs to capture me?"
When I came back to look at all the verses I had underlined in the chapter and start writing notes on each one, I looked at that one and my first thought was, "Do the men with the swords and clubs even pose a threat to Jesus?"
Before I had time to write the question down in my journal, God began giving me an answer, that I had to write down immediately before forgetting.

The Truth cannot be destroyed by hatred and violent acts.
The Truth stands, silent.
In the face of opposition, It remains the same.
It does not waver.
It does not falter.
It stands firm.
The Truth never changes
But changes people.
The Truth lives.

The Vicious Cycle Of Remembering and Forgetting

With Palm Sunday just past, and Easter on it's way, let's give a big "HELLO!" to Holy Week!

I don't know about you, but especially in past years, I've had trouble actually getting much out of these times of year. Times like Holy Week and Advent were created for remembrance of this great thing the Father has done for us through his Son, yet many of us in America don't remember. We know the stories by heart, but they've stopped affecting our hearts. We remember times in our lives where we were so on fire for Jesus, but we can't seem to feel that anymore. He feels distant, past, not present as He should.
Does anyone else know what I'm talking about?
I imagine many of you do, for it's all part of the human cycle of remembering and forgetting.
We remember we are children of an eternal King, chosen by a limitless Father, saved by His perfect Son, Jesus, who is also our Brother. We are pumped! We are excited! Everything in our lives has purpose. Everyone we know is this beautiful creation with God's very breath within them. Every conversation we have, thing we do, and dream we have seems to center around this indescribable understanding.

And then we forget.
We let the lies of the world creep in on us.The doubts from our past whisper in our ears, telling us we aren't good enough. "You aren't worth it," they say. "Who would ever choose you? You are nothing more than the scum of the earth with no talent, wisdom, or love to offer anyone." We completely forget who we just realized we were. We forget our purpose.
To love and be loved by our Creator.
But along with forgetting our identity, we forget His.
By doubting our worth, we choose to believe what our imperfect society and peers say about us, putting our worth in their opinions rather than God's. Through this, our behavior says, "God, you were wrong in sending your Son to save me. I'm not worth it."

Now, stop for a moment and let that soak in.
While you're letting that settle and wondering if this is something new to mankind since our society has gotten so loud and opinionated, or if this is how it's always been, let me tell you a story.

There was once a man named Jesus. Jesus had a lot of people who loved Him and would follow His words to their death. But within those who followed him, He had twelve friends, and within the twelve there were three who were closest to Him. Among the three was one man. His name was Peter. Peter loved Jesus very much, and Jesus even told him that he would be the rock on which He built His church.
When betrayal entered the group, all of Jesus' friends fled, terrified of what would happen to them if they stayed with their Friend and Lord. All except for Peter, who followed Jesus at a distance, determined to stay with him even through this. But while he was watching and waiting for his Lord, someone came up to him and said, "Hey, you're one of Jesus' friends, aren't you?"
"No," he said. "I haven't the slightest clue what you're talking about. That's not me. That's some other Peter, but most definitely not me."

Okay, maybe that's not exactly how it went, but you get the idea. Peter, along with the rest of the disciples, completely forgot who he was. He forgot he was chosen. He forgot that he's so much more than this earthly body, this costume. He let fear enter his camp.
We try to justify fear, saying it keeps us safe. But it doesn't. Fear only makes us forget that we are already loved by our Father and the storm holds no threat over us.
Fear does not save. Fear only makes you forget what you already have.

I bring this up, because I felt myself slipping into this familiar rut of forgetting over the weekend. I spent a month feeling on top of the world! I had God on my side, and nothing could touch me. Ever.
But discouragement began to creep in, and I started measuring my worth based off what I could do. Again.

It was during that month of remembering who I was that I learned about this cycle and truly started to see it in my life as well as the lives of those around me. Remember, forget. Remember, forget.
Ironically enough, though, when you start to slip into that stage of forget, not only do you forget who you are, but you forget that this is a cycle!
It's so easy when you start to let the world dictate your worth to resent yourself for not feeling as free as you once did. You wonder what you did wrong to bring you to this low. You forget, then, that this is just a cycle.
Like any cycle, it will continue. You will remember again.

Whenever fear and doubt threaten to make you forget, stomp it out. Stand your ground and face that fear, saying, "Satan, you hold no power over me, for I am loved, chosen, and valued by my Father. And nothing will ever change that! Ever."
Do not allow fear to overtake you, dear ones. It holds no power over you.You are not alone. You have God on your side, and countless others, including Peter, who have all gone through this cycle of remembering and forgetting.


Keep your focus on the Lord. Even when you feel yourself forgetting, continue to dive deep into his everlasting love.
You will remember. I promise.