pay attention boys

If a girl gives you seemingly random out of the blue unrelated information... It's an invitation.


I was at this store, and one of the guys that works there asked me if I was looking for something specific when I was standing enjoying browsing the books. I do that a lot. I will go and stand among the books I love and think about what I learned when I was reading them, or who inspired me to buy that book, or what lesson God taught me through that book. I told him that I just like to check on some of my favorite authors to see if they have written anything new. He asked who, and I told him Rob Bell, Lauren Winner, Brian McLauren etc. He knew who I was talking about, and even had some suggestions. The way he responded and stared at me, I knew he wanted to talk more. It was that look you give someone when you are shocked to find someone similar to you. We all think that we are unique, or at least a part of a super cool and exclusive club. Another woman walked up, and his job required that he help her instead of continuing to chat with me. I hung around for a few moments, but eventually went on with my shopping. A few weeks later I found myself in the same store and the same clerk appeared as I searched for a calendar for work. I found myself giving him a lot of details about where I work and when I work because part of me wanted him to have a chance to seek me out. That was months ago now, and even though I still go to that store, and he still pops up everytime I walk in the store, I am over it. I wasn't that in to him in the first place, but his inability to accept the invitation laid out made him terribly unattractive. Why is it that men think women are complicted? We really aren't. We want you to be bold and pay attention to what we are saying. We give you hints and invitations all the time. You just aren't paying attention.

Soundtrack: Better, Matthew Mayfied

Student of Love

Lord,
As I learn more about love, forgive me for all the moments in which you have showered me with love and grace and I was blind to see.

Soundtrack: Your Love is Extravagent, Darrell Evans and His Grace is Sufficent, Jennifer Knapp

Puzzle

I often wonder why there are people in our lives that we see every day for months or years at a time who can be lifted out of our lives with little to no consequence. I had dozens of teachers in my life that I saw daily for 9 months, and I no longer remember their names. There are people I have worked beside for years, with whom I have no lasting bond. We are shoulder to shoulder with these people, and our lives rub up against each other, yet somehow our lives do not connect. They are inconsequential to our story, to our purpose.

Then there are those people that are, often times, instantly profoundly significant; like we are a puzzle piece and they fit us perfectly. Part of them is meant to relate or connect to part of us. The relationship is effortless. The acceptance and mutual understanding is immediate.

When I watch a movie I often mentally reinterpret the characters and situations on the screen into my own life in order to appreciate the universal truth being told in the story. These are the faces I see when I watch a romantic comedy, a tragic drama or maybe an action adventure! This is why we cry at movies or commercials. It's why every song we hear is about them. It is not an uncanny ability to empathize with those flat characters. It is our ability to feel again the feeling we had when we were the girl standing in front of the boy who clearly wants more but is too scared to get hurt again.

One of my best friends called and left a message on my phone this week. She is expecting, and I am thrilled. We are matching puzzle pieces, and therefore, her child is overwhelmingly powerful to me. I see babies every day, but I can’t wait to meet hers.

How do we know who those people are? Why are they important to us? Why do the moments meeting them, or the shared experience that defines us run through our minds over and over again? Is there such a thing as emotional memory? Why do I see their faces when I am watching a plot that should not remind me of them? Why don’t I ever think about the girl that sat next to me in second grade, but Dirty Dancing always reminds me of my childhood best friend? I spent more hours next to the nameless girl, but when our puzzle pieces were side by side, we were never a match. Some people do complete us, or at least fit us. As I reflect on my life and mentally divide people into significant and insignificant, I recognize that they were a part of a major storm or joyful celebration in my life. They participated in God speaking the truth of myself to me.

To those of you that I consider part of my puzzle. I am grateful that you fit with me.

Soundtrack: Walk on the Ocean, Toad the Wet Sprocket

I started seminary about a month ago. It has brought to light some of my old demons. I find myself doing everything I can to avoid studying. I have this sense of anxiety when it comes to my school work, but I know God is with me. I know I am following a sense of calling, but I daily struggle with questions of adequacy and authority and legitiamcy. Even when I am sucessful, I am overwhelmed by how good God is to me. I look at my assignments, and initially I feel a wave of difficulty. I toss in the surf, and somehow when I quiet myself to being present with the assignment, it happens effortlessly. I pray that I will learn to submit to God's peace with greater ease as I forge ahead. I hear myself complain about circumstances, and I am aware of the toxicity of it. I feel myself avoiding the work of it all, and I and hate it. I listen to the whispers in the dark instead of nesting my head against the heartbeat of my heavenly Father.

Trinity, Jennifer Knapp

The Gas Station

A few weeks ago I wasn't feeling well so I stopped by the gas station to get some ginger-ale. This was just days after the election, so racial relations had been on my mind. I had on dress pants and heels. I walked to the back of the gas station to look for ginger-ale. I didn't see any, so I started searching all the cases. I realized that it was in the case behind an African American woman who was standing there filling out a lottery ticket. I was happy to wait until she was done, but then she did the strangest thing. She moved out of the way. And the look she gave me was peculiar. I can only compare it to the look I would get when I was in Ghana. It was a look of entitlement, not of my assertion, but of her giving. It disturbed me. At this time in our nation's history we have come too far for me to be given special treatment for my skin color. I wanted her to believe that she had every right to be standing there as I did. How do we change the way people perceive themselves? Is the real fight against discrimination in the mind of those who were once oppressed. Opportunity is widely available to African Americans in America. And, yet for this woman we were as segregated as it was in 1950. I have grown up in a world of integration. I see my African American peers as peers. I do not expect preferential treatment over them. Her behavior struck me as unusual and unfortunate. Is this true? Is it unusual. I am certain that it is indeed unfortunate. I don't know if it is unusual. I consider the election of Barack Obama as opportunity for the African American community to raise up and let go of the lie that they are not entitled to every liberty afforded all in our great country.

I had accumulated a list of topics about which I was going to write, however, after time passing and greater reflection on those topics, I realized that most of them were not noteworthy. This fact is noteworthy for my growing understanding of blogging! Not everything I think is profound will maintain that sense. Giving topics a couple of days to bounce around in my head can be a good thing. Often, if I think it is important NOW it goes in my journal, but that probably should not be the case for blogging.

Soundtrack: Free at Last, DC Talk

The beginning of something decidedly progressive.

I find myself wondering why I never ventured into the blogesphere. I am reminded of those few years between accepting God's calling to be a writer and my freshman year of college when I began journaling. It is so obvious, but as is true with most things in my life, it must be right for me. I am diligent to wait for the authentic moment for all things and I hate feeling coerced into anything. So, here I am, writing a blog because no one told me to do it and the moment felt right in my life. Similar to my journey toward journaling I sense a season of growing pains. I don't plan on telling anyone about this blog for weeks... maybe months. I need some time to work out how this fits into my life and how my process fits into the forum. I have only ever written for myself in my journal or for a very specific purpose, either to be published or to turn into a professor. This in between stage of technically public private thoughts is new to me. I don't self edit in my journal. I flow. And, I pour over the items that I am turning in or submitting. I am excited about stretching myself to find a new medium, but a little apprehensive about how it will function. Even now, I am missing the thesaurus function I use so much for papers and I am experiencing the pausing to think as disruptive to my typical journaling rhythm.

So, for those of you that do not know the story of Jill Sims, the writer... here it is. I was 15 and sitting in my freshman English class. You know the one where you watch the old version of Romeo and Juliet. My teacher allowed us 10 minutes at the beginning of class everyday to free read. I was reading Max Lucado's No Wonder They Call Him the Savior and I finished a chapter. It struck me that in this quiet moment at Heritage High School I was moved by words that were probably written years prior to my freshman year and word that were written by a man that lives in Texas. How beautiful the Holy Spirit that is indeed one Spirit in all believers! The Spirit that inspired those words for Max spoke to my heart in that moment. I breathed a prayer, "I want to do that." In that moment, I saw myself sitting at a desk, an L-shaped desk, typing. Two children ran into the room saying, "Mommy, mommy!" As I daydreamed my ideal life, writing from home and raising children, the Spirit said to my heart, "You can do this." It has been a long journey marked with God's pursuit to free me of myself and my bizarre fear of success. A few years later as I began to allow the faith of this promise God gave to me to seep into my being, I read 2 Timothy 2:15. I knew that was the Word's explanation for my calling. The words "workman" and "truth" haunted me. I have watched many friends and acquaintances that were uneasy allowing me to become their friend because of their misunderstanding of my Jesus, struggle with understanding our mysterious faith in juxtaposition to our culture. They need someone versed in culture crafting, or working, the truth into the language they speak. Now, I know my calling is not unique to myself, but I am excited to be apart of what God is saying to this generation. The thing about this verse that really helped me understand what my vocation would be was the restraint. First, "Present yourself approved to God." I must be submitted to God, yielded to the Spirit's voice, allowing Him to speak through me. "As a workman." Creativity is still God's nature. He is always creative, always crafting. "Who does not need to be ashamed." Ultimately, if I have followed the instructions given at the beginning of the verse, I have no reason to be unashamed. What I am saying/writing is His and therefore good. As we know from Romans, we are not to be unashamed of the gospel. And, the more I study scripture and fall deeper and deeper in love with the Lord, I realize that all truth points toward the truth of the gospel, and therefore no reason for shame. "Handling accurately the word of truth." Again, I am reminded to be careful with the truth and nothing I write can be intentionally contrary to what is True with a big T.

When I was searching for the verse online, I pulled up the Message version. I like the way it is worded... I am including vs. 14-about 17

14-18Repeat these basic essentials over and over to God's people. Warn them before God against pious nitpicking, which chips away at the faith. It just wears everyone out. Concentrate on doing your best for God, work you won't be ashamed of, laying out the truth plain and simple. Stay clear of pious talk that is only talk. Words are not mere words, you know. If they're not backed by a godly life, they accumulate as poison in the soul.

Last summer my parents invited me to plan a trip for the 3 of us. I chose Gran Rapids, MI. Many of you will recognize that Grand Rapids is the home of Mars Hill Bible Church. Rob Bell is the lead teacher at Mars Hill, and for years he has inspired me with his words. I wanted to see how the community he teaches lives and worships. The weeks leading up to the trip I spent a lot of time asking God to reveal the next chapter in my life. I wanted Him to say that I would be moving to Grand Rapids because the idea of living in a community that is so full of passion excited me. On the plane I was reading a book by this guy. I am choosing not to disclose either name. I got so irritated because some of what he was saying was true - with a little t, but I couldn't handle the way he said things. I became annoyed with the fact that he got to publish a book and I had not, yet. I turned the book over to see why. He was a professor in religion at a well known university. Immediately I knew. I recognized the path behind me as I turned that proverbial bend in the road leading towards teaching. It is not normal to read Bonhoeffer or Lewis or Tozer on your lunch break as a receptionist. It is not normal to take meticulous notes on Entertainment Weekly's movie previews. It is not normal to keep a job under utilizing your skills in order to continue leading Young Life for some exceptional high school students because each opportunity to give the talk charges you in a way that is electric. It is not normal behavior, but it does prepare one to teach and write about the relationship between theology and culture. That's the plan. I hope you will travel this journey with me. Pray for me. Pray with me. Share in what God is doing for our generation. I hope to not disappoint. But, I'm gonna let you in on a secret. I don't do this for you. I do it for Him, and hopefully He will ultimately do it through me. May I always be a workman of truth.

Soundtrack: Blessed Assurance and One Pure and Holy Passion, One Day Live and Take my Life, Chris Tomlin