Just a Giant One

Tonight was not about me. It was about a lot of things and people, but most certainly did not revolve around me.

I did, however, get something out of it. And it's big.

One person, crazy enough to believe they can change the world, can. One person who is willing to stand up when everyone sits down under the crushing weight of oppression or the insignificant weight of embarrassment can cause others to stand, even if it's just to fall. One person following God's lead instead of their own can change an entire generation.

I want to be the one, you know? And I think I have it buried somewhere within me, or maybe it's more surface-level than I can see, but I want it to define me. I want to be used and consumed by God until I die and can really start living without the glaring flesh and sting of death. I have some things about myself I need to change first, though.

I don't love people enough. I love them in theory, just as I have spent most of my life loving God in theory, but when it comes down to it I don't love them enough to spend every ounce of myself sharing who God is with them. I don't love others enough to gently guide them instead of trampling their insides with my opinions; truth given in the wrong way at the wrong time is too often mistaken for falsehood.

I am too hard on myself. I let one mistake define me and I have a knack for taking humility to a wrong level. Couple that with bouts of egomania and I become a hindrance, not a help, to the Kingdom.

But, praise God, He's working things out in me. I am repairing relationships in my life like a madwoman, stepping up and having the hard conversations, and soaking up His word like nobody's business. I am letting Him work, so He is. No matter what else, no matter how I am or who I am or what happens, He Is.

It's Such a Crying Shame, Will It Ever Stop?

Yesterday I wrote about shocking tears. Today they are violent tears. Tomorrow they will probably be homicidal. Watch your back.

Today I learned a lesson. Nothing I ever do will change anyone's mind about me. I can try and try and effort-myself to death, and the results will be...oh, right. I am still me. I cannot change me. I am stuck.

The football went in the net. I collapsed. Was I faking an injury or in a pile of agony? I lost all sense of truth.

Or am I the ball?

I am a metaphor. I compare things without like...or love. "As" would be inappropriate as well. I am the comparison without, the sunshine without, the Hail Mary without. Without. Without like.

In a fortnight I will be through with everything Christmas. Other things, too. Dangerous? Yes.

Every Time I Look at You It's like the First Time

Lately I have been discovering hidden truths I have always believed, based on my interpretation of experiences, that may or may not be true. Tonight another one popped up, and it was not until the opposite was stated that I realized how often this lie has been the premise for so many of my actions.

Lie: Men are shallow. They do not have deep feelings. There are mythical men who have real emotions, but they are always getting slaughtered by women without hearts. A man could never care about me as much as I care about him. I cannot break a man's heart because he doesn't have one; even if he feels a sting, he'll be over it in a week (and by over it I mean in some other girl's hot tub). I have to just be okay with settling for someone who will never understand my feelings or experience the same level of love I have for him.

I started typing out the "truth" that was given to me tonight, but I felt stupid. Writing "all of the above is a lie" actually made me feel duped.

So where do I go from here?

I was just at a service with 50 other young adults hearing about relationships and being told to meet people "just in case," but I have never felt less like being someone. I was sitting there, actually kind of confused, because there was no pull to be with a guy. At all. Zero. But I don't know how to fix what is broken without someone showing me that I, all along in fact, have just been using the freaking eggbeaters the wrong way. You get my drift? I don't want someone perfect, but I want a man who will prove that I was wrong. That even if he makes me frustrated beyond belief and never puts the dishes away right and always buys skim instead of whole milk because he thinks it's healthier, he will feel for me deeply. Is that too much to ask?

Some other little tidbits I picked up tonight:

• If the past is not dealt with now, it will leak into the future. Duh...but I'd never heard it stated quite that way before.
• A warning sign that says it's time to get out: if there's any level of compromise (settling for something you don't believe in because you're not yet ready to fight for what you do).
• Women have 10x the touch receptors that men do!

That last one especially was a big learning curve :)

Thought of the day:

He will show up, one day. And when he does, he will feel things. He will choose to see past the crap and be willing to risk his heart on me. I can only hope that I am able to keep his heart safe the way I am trusting him to do with mine.

What a Weekend (and a Splash of Hope)

Some days are without description, as words would fail horribly and only serve to dull the sweetness of the moment. Therefore, I don't want to bog myself down with lengthy descriptions or thoughts that really don't matter.

I realized the other day that I stopped believing in a lot of good things a long time ago. Life isn't perfect, c'est la vie, suck it up. All to say: build dreams that are slightly in the realm of attainable. Stop reaching. Accept what life hands you and be satisfied.

...But that just isn't in me. I was once told that a Christian's worst temptation is not to give in to worldly temptations, but rather to settle for the satisfactory. I think God has far more than satisfactory in mind.

This weekend was beyond description. Amazingly, I was able to focus and just...be. The first night was wonderful because the message was on understanding God's love for us. To truly, fully grasp that concept is a lifelong process, but standing there singing "How He Loves" I was brought back to my roadtrip and the moment I knew that I knew that He loved me. For real. Not some concept for study or a gift only given to the holy, but for me. He loves me, not because I try to be strong or beautiful or smart or likable, but just because. He just does.

And then. The point that brought it all together. Bring on night number two. Before the message, the speaker was giving words to people in the audience, and as he began his third personal message I knew I would be next. First I told God He didn't have to give me anything, I would be satisfied without anything that intimate (and public). Then I begged Him not to. And then the speaker called on me. He asked if I was comfortable with these people, my peers and authority figures; were they a loving family I could trust?

My honest response: "Some."

My real response: "Yes."

Something inside me clicked and I knew this wasn't just for me. Other people needed to hear it too.

He told me it wasn't to embarrass me, but to use as an example. And he pulled out a twenty dollar bill. I had heard of this illustration before in different classes as a visual prop for youth groups, but I had never actually seen it done.

Randy: "Do you know what this is?"

Me: "Money."

R: "A twenty dollar bill. And I want to give it to you. Do you want it?"

L: "Yes."

R: "Okay, just give me a second."

And he crumpled it in his hand (sidenote: American money crumples so much cooler than Canadian). He spread it out again.

R: "Do you still want it?"

L: I know where this is going... "Yes."

R: "Okay, one more thing."

And he smooshed it into an even tinier ball, threw it on the ground and stomped on it. Every stomp was a knife in the heart, a weight on my shoulders, a new memory. He spread it out again.

R: "What about now?"

L: "Yes."

R: "Why?"

L: "Because it's still twenty bucks."

He went on to explain value. The bill still had monetary value, despite how it had been mistreated, crushed and abused. It still had value. I still have value. That's how Jesus sees me, and how He wants me to see myself. I have not lost my value.

That twenty is now the new bookmark in my Bible. Already I can see the creases begin to become softer as the continuous pressure of my ridiculously heavy NASB squashes it into submission. Diamonds are created from coal in extreme pressure and intense heat; gold is refined by burning out the impurities; I am being turned into something beautiful, something valuable, by pressure, weight and heat. The impurities are being burned away in the wake of the Consuming Fire who is jealous for my love. My love. Incredible.

I am not beyond saving. Hope.

He has a plan bigger than all of this. Faith.

It is by His grace and compassion that I get another shot. Love.

And the greatest of these is love.