Is Change Even Possible?

Are you ever skeptical that people can change?

I am.

I wonder how often our skepticism not only allows us to live in a place of discouragement and hopelessness...but also lends itself to creating a mold for others that they cannot get out of.

For example:
I feel like I changed a lot between high school and college. I felt more mature, I felt more servant-hearted, I felt like I understood a whole lot more about who I was and my purpose in life. But, every time I went back home, I felt myself reverting to this high school version of myself. I was suddenly selfish and expectant. I suddenly needed my mom to wake me up in time for things, I suddenly found silly reasons to have my feelings hurt by my older brothers.

I think part of this was the fact that coming home provided a comfort and familiarity that allowed me to be a more raw and rough version of myself...'cause I always know they'll love me unconditionally. I think part of it was that my family expected me to still be the bratty, selfish teenager that I had left home as. How could they know I'd be any different?

It took many years before I felt like I could really be more of who I was becoming around my family, it took time for them to see that maybe I wasn't the same girl I had been. It took me continually striving to be the same person I was becoming at camp and at school while I was also at home...even if it felt much easier to slip into that old person again. Change didn't come easily.

And I recognize how often I tend to hold others to this previous version of themselves.

It's really backwards.
I proclaim to believe in a God that is all about changing people. Eternal change, lasting life-change... but then I don't let them change. I question their motives. Are they changing for a guy? Or for a girl? Are they just appearing to change, but really the same person deep down inside? Are they just desperately wanting that job, so they'll say anything they can? Is it just this temporary deal, but give it some time and we'll see the old them resurface soon?

I hate this.
I hate that this is what I've become.
Haven't I truly seen enough people's lives drastically changed? Or am I still always expecting the worst?

Not only am I allowing room for disappointment and discouragement to set in in my own heart, but I'm also failing at offering hope to anyone around me.

I want to be a person who believes fully that people can change, that they can be different. I want to be a person that not only believes it, but inspires it. Instead of looking at the former pothead, sex addict, alcoholic, compulsive liar, pharisee and not believing that they'll ever change... what if I held true conviction that they can, that they will, that there's hope, that there's more?

What if people are unable to really change because we don't let them?
What if people are so discouraged and hurt by their friends, their families, their churches, their co-workers treating them like the same person they've always been...instead of with the belief and hope that they can and will be different?

What if we're doing the exact opposite of what we claim to believe?

I don't know about you guys, but I need to believe that lives can be changed.
I need to be a person who hopes...
A person who offers hopes to others when they might not even have hope for themselves.

Change can happen.

Let's be cautious with how our words and our actions may debilitate others from being able to live in their new flesh. And maybe, as we allow others to live in their transformation, we will also be able to take steps forward in ours.

For you, my friend, have probably changed, too.
Believe it.
Live in it.
There is power here.

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Confessions of Mean Girl

Hi. My name is Debbie.
I am a Mean Girl.

I started at a young age where I did things like put 'kick me' sticky notes on other kid's backs and formed groups where I laid the law down about accepting girls with too many freckles- strictly forbidden.  Arms were broken, hair was ripped out... we rumbled on the schoolyard of my elementary playground (okay, not so much the latter... but the broken arm thing definitely happened).

There was retaliation, of course. I remember vividly going back to my desk after lunch one day. As I moved swiftly to sit down, at the last minute I caught a glimpse of something in my chair. It was too late. Before I knew it, blueberries were smeared across the seat of my white denim shorts. It would happen to be a day of a school assembling, meaning that us 2nd graders would take our place near the front of the gym in our K-6 school. I did what I could: I untucked my oversized Mickey Mouse shirt and let it fall to my thighs. I'd rather look pant-less than take on a new nickname of 'Period Girl'.

Over the years the immature acts died down and I nestled down into a passive aggressive, exclusive, silent but gossipy type of Mean Girl. Instead of kicking girls out of my group, I managed to find reasons why we just shouldn't invite them to join--justifiable reasons, at that. Instead of physically putting 'kick me' notes on backs, I verbally abused others behind their backs.

I daily wrestle through an assortment of thoughts that just aren't nice. I have a thousand reasons why I'm better than you, a thousand reasons why I shouldn't invite you, a thousand reasons why you annoy me. Sometimes it's all I can do to keep things from flying out of my mouth. Sometimes it's simply because I'm jealous or threatened and so taking you out seems to be my only defense... but, again, that's mere justification.

I'm here to tell you that I'm still a Mean Girl.
I don't want to be.
I want to be kind, and gentle, and loving, and compassionate... and a whole slew of other adjectives that are good. I'm just not.

And this time it's not okay.
'Cause I've been on the flip side. I've been on the side where I'm not invited, when I'm made fun of, when I'm talked about behind my back...when blueberries are put in my chair. I know how it feels to be picked last, to not be wanted, to not have my feelings taken into consideration.

The thought that I make anyone else feel like that makes my heart ache. But I know that I've done it... and I know that I still do it from time to time. In these moments I feel ever-aware of the darkness of my heart. I'm sorry if you've ever been at the receiving end of my Mean Girl wrath.

The brutal truth?
We're Mean Girls to each other, more often that not.
Consider your words, your actions, your thoughts...
When you're annoyed with another girl, what do you say to/about them? How do you treat them? What do you think about them? When another girl is dating the guy you like/your ex-boyfriend... what goes on through your mind then? When someone has made fun of you, how do you respond?

I'm guilty.
I need help.

And today I'm thankful for a second chance. Another chance to love where I have hated. Another chance to pray that light would penetrate the darkest parts of my heart. Another chance to be redeemed and forgiven of my sins.

May we begin shedding our Mean skin, and putting on our New skin.
No more excuses, no more justifications...
It's time.

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