acne turned to...chicken pox?

“How can you stand his breath?”

I stated the question with an honest curiosity as it brought a hue of pink to my brother’s cheeks.  He was in junior high, engaged in a conversation with a cute girl who went to church with us.  In my mind, his breath was horrendous and I couldn’t figure out how she could handle being in such close proximity to the stench.

It is one of those memories that gets stretched and warped over time as he and I both retell it—our perspectives slightly skewing the actual events that occurred.  All I know was that it wasn’t the first time or last time I had spoken too honestly and freely about something that affected someone else.

Another time I was in middle school and my oldest brother was taking me somewhere with a few of his friends from youth group.  I remember sitting in the middle seat of the van next to one of his female friends.  I began comparing our thigh size…and while she was 6 years older than me, displaying the body of a woman while I was very much still a child—I quickly announced the differences in size and shape.  I don’t know to what extreme I went to, but I remember my brother being humiliated, my mom giving me a lecture, and having to go apologize… so it must have been pretty bad. 

It wasn’t until a few years later that I realized how people had felt when I had put them in such an uncomfortable situation.  I was helping out with a VBS as a sophomore in high school, working primarily with 4-year-olds.  As I held one of them, she reached to my face and asked loudly, “What are those red dots all over…?” I fumbled over possible answers to her question, uncertain of how to explain acne to a 4-year-old.  I settled for chicken pox.  I remember looking around quickly, to see who else had heard this child call out my shame, humiliated by the possibility that anyone else had been present.

It was a startling realization to know that the thing that I had worked so hard to mask was, in fact, unhidden from all.  If a child could see through the pounds of make-up, I was quite sure anyone else could. 

Isn’t that sometimes one of our biggest fears?

We walk around through life, attempting to conceal our biggest insecurities about ourselves, terrified that somebody is going to notice or, worse yet, bring it to someone else’s attention?  It seems our fear is driven from a place of wanting to be loved and accepted—we are scared that if people found out what we really looked like, who we really are… that they would reject us.

I guess I just don’t think anyone cares (except for annoying little sisters who don’t really care, they just seem to thrive on ways to be obnoxious).  While that 4-year-old called out one my deepest insecurities at the time, there was no reflection of that mattering to the people who called me friend, to the guy that was dating me, to the athletes that let me compete alongside them.  It wasn’t a reflection of who I was. 

I think we get a little crazy in the ways we try to present ourselves to others- whether that is external or internal.  I think we get a little crazy in the ways that we try to impress, in the ways that we shield the truth about who we really are, even in the smallest ways.

What a beautiful thing it would be if we all let ourselves be the mess that we actually are—flawed, imperfect, yet created by a holy and perfect God.  What a beautiful thing it would be if we all allowed others to live freely in a world where they can be themselves and walk in the fullness of what that truly means—instead of judging, condemning, and rejecting.

It goes both ways.

Holding our tongue when talking to and about people- especially when it really doesn’t matter (and teaching our children how to do this), and being able to embrace who we are fully- with our quirks and flaws…the things that make us human. 

Bad breath, big thighs, and acne certainly don’t define any of us.

Let’s discard the masks and walk confidently in our idiosyncrasies…and may much joy and laughter accompany us in a place we are finally all ourselves.  

* * *

Send in your own stories of something you have done, thought, or said that might be a bit 'crazy'... Send in your own questions and struggles. 

Let's bring light to the darkness, truth to the lies, and hope to the hopeless.  

You're not alone.  

Submit Your Stories/Questions/Struggles Here

Your stories will remain anonymous

in its time...

I love Mexican food.

Not only am I a fan of the menu, but I love that the moment I sit down I'm given a basket of chips and bowl of salsa.  Immediate gratification.

I think it’s also the reason I like mowing lawns with tall grass, and like working the sprayer in the dishroom.  You see change instantaneously! 

I want this to translate into people.  I'm the kind of person who wants to see transformation happen overnight.  I don’t want to wait for it.  I want that to be true for myself, too...especially as I become aware of my imperfections.

Discouragement has its way with me when I feel like I haven’t changed at all.  Sometimes I’ll flip through old journals and mourn the fact that I'm still dealing with the same things I dealt with 8 years ago.  At what point will I wake up and finally be patient, and trusting, and loving, and joyful and possess self-control?   At what point can I take a mower and just cut away all the tall grass, or take high-pressured scorching water and quickly rinse away all the grimy food residue? 

Unfortunately, I don’t think that’s often how the Lord seeks to refine us.  In fact, this idea of refining means that it is all part of this process…it’s the opposite of instantaneous.   I can’t rush it, and when I try to it usually means that I’ve messed up something important in the process. 

Isn’t it funny how we even try to take control of the Lord working on us? 

I’ve come to realize that I can’t rush it.  I’ve come to realize that I can’t make myself get to the point where I think I ‘should’ be.  I’ve come to realize that I don’t really even know where that is or what the Lord’s end goal is for me, and so I need to let it go. 

Change is happening all around us.

Change is happening in us.  We might not always see it for what it is…but I have to let the refining happen in the Lord’s timing and in His way.  You should try it, too. And let us trust that we are not the same people we were in the past, even if we have moments where we still deal/struggle with the same things. 

After all, He makes all things beautiful….in its time.  

I encourage you to dwell in the truth of the song below for a few moments...and then go enjoy some chips and salsa for me!

* * *

Send in your own stories of something you have done, thought, or said that might be a bit 'crazy'... Send in your own questions and struggles. 

Let's bring light to the darkness, truth to the lies, and hope to the hopeless.  

You're not alone.  

Submit Your Stories/Questions/Struggles Here

Your stories will remain anonymous

a compromise.

I held two guys’ hands at the same time.

They didn’t know it. 

They were best friends and roommates who lived down my hall in college.

I should probably mention that this happened on two separate occasions.

I was interested in one of them and we were in the process of ‘talking’… and the other was just a fun, flirty, overly touchy friend.  Apparently overly touchy doesn’t mean, “Hey, let’s just hold hands for the heck of it” like I thought/hoped it might… 

The story gets complicated (as you might imagine), especially when I felt convicted and ended up having conversations with both of them about my error in judgment.  While they were kind and forgiving, there wasn’t much of a future for me and either of them…at least nothing beyond the typical freshman novelties.

I remember thinking (while I was watching a movie in a very dark room on a couch holding the guy’s hand who was sitting next to me…with my other arm draped was over the arm of the couch holding the guy’s hand who was sitting on the floor next to the couch), “Is this really happening right now?  Am I really doing this?  Awww yeaaa!”

In disbelief of my own actions, I was still patting myself on the back for achieving this weird ‘accomplishment’ in life.  Who does that? 

While it’s become this ridiculous story that I am able to now share, I can never tell it without embarrassment and a bit of shame.  I laugh about it in order to escape the reality of what this story really meant for me back then.

It meant that I was selfish, it meant that I didn’t care how my actions affected anyone else, it meant that I wanted to feel like people wanted me so much that I was willing to cross lines.

I was being the girl who wanted to feel better about myself at the expense of someone else.  

I was being the girl who wanted to feel better about myself at the expense of myself. 

I had compromised something dear…my integrity…and it wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last.

What of yourself are you compromising in order to feel like you matter?  To feel like you’re important and worth it?  What morals, what values, what guidelines have you broken? 

The compromising is usually always a sign of control, as we lower ourselves to do things or to become things in order to be better liked, to feel more desired. It’s not worth it, my friends… nor does it ever make us feel the way we hope it might—at least not for very long.

If you’re currently involved with anything/anyone where you’ve compromised yourself…I urge you to get out fast.  Flee.  These are the decisions we regret more than most others.  Confess, ask for forgiveness, and live freely.

If you’ve been involved with anything/anyone where you’ve compromised yourself…I urge you to walk in the freedom that has been given to you.  Walk in forgiveness, walk in the newness of being a regenerate creation.  The old has gone, the new has come… over and over again.

There is hope.  For all of us. 

Go, and sin no more.  

* * *

Send in your own stories of something you have done, thought, or said that might be a bit 'crazy'... Send in your own questions and struggles. 

Let's bring light to the darkness, truth to the lies, and hope to the hopeless.  

You're not alone.  

Submit Your Stories/Questions/Struggles Here

Your stories will remain anonymous

breaking ties

I’ve been talking to some guys about this blog and it’s somewhat hilarious to hear their comments.

“So wait… you’re telling girls that you’re crazy and making them feel like they’re not alone in being crazy- but are you telling them that they should stop being crazy??” 

Mostly it’s funny (and a bit sad) to hear their side of the ‘crazy girl’ stories...because they all have stories.  Girls who are pining after them, doing drastic and embarrassing things, just to get them to respond, to notice, to care.  I cringe thinking about all the stories guys in my past could tell about me…I recoil thinking about how everything must have appeared from their perspective, even if it made logical sense to me at the time.

Sometimes I was my own worst enemy.

Even if I could rationally tell myself that a guy wasn’t interested in me, I could still find some irrational reason to hope.  Even if we sat down and had a DTR about how he wasn’t interested in me, I still managed to find some shred of evidence that he really did like me, it was just the wrong time or there was fear was holding him back. 

So, here’s a word to all the guys out there:

We women are crazy and we fail to always get it.  Please adhere to the following:

•  If you’re not interested in us, we need you to straight up tell us that it’s never going to happen (because if you don’t, you leave us some room to wonder if it’s just a temporary thing and you could, someday, fall hopelessly in love with us). 

•  If you’re not interested in us, we need to you back out of our lives and make no effort to initiate any sort of anything with us (because if you don’t, we’ll find a reason to believe that the reason you are making an effort is because you actually do have feelings for us).

•  If you’re not interested in us, don’t give us any reason to assume otherwise (the most simple gesture that indicates that you’ve thought about us in any capacity can make our hearts swoon with hope and desire).

• If you’re not interested in us, don’t respond to us- this includes texts, emails, phone calls, one-on-one hanging out (you might feel rude, and might even have to go through some cruel accusations, but I think that creating distance in every way is necessary for a girl to realize it’s never going to happen). 

Don’t worry.  We’ll eventually get it.   We’ll move on, time will heal our wounds and we’ll learn more about what it means to trust the Lord with this part of our heart instead of trying to control it ourselves.  Eventually. 

You (more than likely) haven’t done anything wrong other than be a likeable guy.   We just fear there aren’t many of you and so we latch on quickly. 

Bear with us…and don’t give up hope that someday you’ll fall in love with one of us crazy girls (at some point the craziness becomes worth it).  In the meantime?  Break any and all ties with the crazy ones that you’ll never consider more than a friend. 

It’s the best for all involved.

Walk boldly, my friends.  

* * *

Send in your own stories of something you have done, thought, or said that might be a bit 'crazy'... Send in your own questions and struggles. 

Let's bring light to the darkness, truth to the lies, and hope to the hopeless.  

You're not alone.  

Submit Your Stories/Questions/Struggles Here

Your stories will remain anonymous

a fine, fine line

The Comment:

‘I want to make sure I am guarding my heart but not having walls up. There may be a prospect and I want to make sure that I'm not being "too cautious" like I am frequently told.’

Ohhh, guys…and the balance between guarding our hearts and also letting them in.  That's just what it is—finding balance.  

Mostly, I think we're going to get hurt no matter who we let into our lives.  It’s just a part of the process... let people in, risk getting hurt (or... really, you’re guaranteed to be hurt).  It happens with any relationship or friendship.   There's just often an additional heartbreak that comes with guys.

I guess I think you can live life two different ways—one where you are super cautious and scared of letting people in…and then it's easy to define your life by loneliness and what-ifs.  OR... you put yourself out there and you let people in…and then it's easy to define your life by the ways people have hurt you or betrayed you.  Both have advantages and disadvantages and ULTIMATELY—I simply think we are called to love people.  

I don't necessarily think there's any sort of gender barrier applied to loving others and I tend to think that's simply this thing society (and Christian culture, to some degree) has placed on us.  Can we be wise in our decisions and the ways we engage our hearts with people/men... yes.  But, don't run from it.  Let people be imperfect (which means that they will hurt you)... and choose to love them anyway.  

It's better.  

It’s worth it.

Take a risk.

(but don't be crazy in the process)  

* * *

Send in your own stories of something you have done, thought, or said that might be a bit 'crazy'... Send in your own questions and struggles. 

Let's bring light to the darkness, truth to the lies, and hope to the hopeless.  

You're not alone.  

Submit Your Stories/Questions/Struggles Here

Your stories will remain anonymous