In Which I Backpedal

Original Posting: January 2012

Cultivate your own relationship with God, but don't impose it on others. You're fortunate if your behavior and your belief are coherent. But if you're not sure, if you notice that you are acting in ways inconsistent with what you believe – some days trying to impose your opinions on others, other days just trying to please them – then you know that you're out of line. If the way you live isn't consistent with what you believe, then it's wrong.

~ Romans 14:22-23, The Message

This passage hit me more strongly when I initially read it in context of what I was thinking about at the time. But the post hinges on this.

–

As the title suggests, this is a response to my most recent blog post. Having had some time to myself after posting it, I finally realized what it was about the post that never sat right with me.

I cited 1 Cor 7:7 and 7:38 in my last post, that God gives the gifts of singlehood and marriage to different people, and that neither is inferior or superior to the other, as a sort of disclaimer. And indeed I said it was my opinion.

The problem, I realized, was that my belief – the Word – did not line up with my opinion – singlehood is inherently better than marriage.

Keyword: Inherently.

–

You might have gathered from my last post that I have a lot of trouble seeing romantic relationships in a positive light at this time. There are reasons for that. I started to really think about it after one of the last times I was at youth group. It was a Q&A night, and one of the topics that kept coming up was romantic relationships – specifically, how do you know when you're going too far, and if you don't want to go that far again, what can you do to keep it from happening?

I thought about contributing to the discussion, but I didn't realize an "audience" member could do that. And by the time I learned that, we were wrapping up.

I only realized a couple of weeks ago that I went further with my ex-boyfriend than I wanted to go. Didn't go too far – thank God – but still further than I was actually willing to go. I didn't realize my discomfort meant exactly that at the time, because I thought I was just breaking out of my shell – stepping out of your comfort zone is supposed to be a good thing, right? Well, not so much for intimacy, it turns out. It's about all I can remember when I think about the relationship, and it colors any outlook I have on future relationships.

Takeaway: Going further than you want to go, at all, does your mental/emotional health bad.

He manipulated me. I don't know if he realized that's what he was doing, but he guilt-tripped me into pushing further and further out; I did it because I didn't want him to get bored, and I wasn't about to lose the experience so quickly when I had waited all of high school for a boyfriend. I told him once that I didn't like the "ickier" stuff as much as the innocent stuff we did in public; I don't remember his response word for word, but it came down to him not seeing it as such a big deal, and me then feeling like I was too chaste for anyone's good.

If there is a next time, I know that I'm going to have to outline my boundaries right up front – if he still wants to cross them, or agrees with me but still hopes to cross them via wearing me down, then he's going to have to move on to someone else. I'm sorry, but that's a whole mess of conflicting emotions that I really do not have the time, energy, or mental stability to deal with.

So I realized all of this a couple days after that Q&A night, because I was thinking about it; thought about posting the same thoughts on the Facebook page for the youth group, or one of the devotional Groups I'm in, but for whatever reason I never did.

I realized that even though I said I believed what God said – that singlehood and relationships are on the same level – I did not conduct myself that way. I conducted myself with the opinion that relationships cannot hold a candle to staying single, and I imposed that on others in my previous post. Given a chance, I might have done the same in real life.

I don't know how well this is coming through. What I am trying to say is that there was a disconnect between what I said I believed online, and what I actually believed according to how I conducted myself.

The real problem: it was affecting other relationships in my life, particularly concerning trust. I had difficulty trusting friends, parents, even God – BIG no bueno.

The syllogism is supposed to run like this:

God wants a relationship with you.

All things that come from God are good.

Therefore, relationships are good.

Well, okay; my Philosophy professor would have a thing or two to say about how that is false, therefore unsound, but you get the idea (I don't feel like fixing it). If all kinds of relationships come from God, then all kinds of relationships are inherently good – it's human error that makes any of them abusive.

If I insist on viewing romantic relationships negatively, unwilling and unable to trust him, then how can I expect to have positive, trusting relationships anywhere else in my life?

It sounds a bit weird to me, to say that looking down on – even hating – the idea of romantic relationships would consequently poison friendly relationships and father/mother-daughter relationships, but it turns out that can happen. It makes sense given my personal relationship with God – I said in my post about Song of Songs that it's a deepest devotion, and to me that means romantic. I am the bride of Christ, after all.

So that's my self-improvement project for the time being: Learn to view romantic relationships in a positive light again.

This won't happen overnight. I'm not sure how I'm going to go about this, because I'm still not in any mood to get into another relationship. I suppose more time is the answer.

We'll see what happens.

~Sarah

A Treatise on Why Singlehood Will Trump Being in a Relationship FOREVER

Original Posting: January 2012

Disclaimer: I am aware that 1 Corinthians 7 states neither singlehood nor marriage is superior/inferior to the other. This is opinion. (Note that all further cited verses are from 1 Corinthians 7 in The Message.) More accurately, this is me being extremely biased/narrow-minded. I can have a day like this now and then if I want to.

And away we go!

1 – When you're unmarried, you're free to concentrate on simply pleasing the Master.

No hesitation in asserting that Jesus is the #1 priority. Which, there shouldn't be any hesitation anyway, regardless of your situation. But I put my ex-boyfriend first far too much (um, all the time), which is why he was my boyfriend for so long in the first place. I should have turned and run the instant he said he would have preferred that we had sex even though he said he could deal with being celibate.

Girls: If a guy says he can be celibate for you – he's lying. Boys, I can't tell you if it's similar for girls in the inverse situation because that's not an issue I've ever had to deal with personally. Sorry. Find a girl with looser morals than me and ask her instead.

2 – You take priority. Well, let me clarify that, because serving God does mean serving Him and others before you, but I need to serve myself, too! I can't serve others if I don't stop to make sure I'm okay! What I mean by this is, you dress for yourself; your makeup is for yourself. You're not fretting in front of mirrors for an extra however long before you leave wondering if this skirt is too revealing or if that eyeshadow is too bright.

3 – Sometimes I wish everyone were single like me – a simpler life in many ways!

Relationships are complicated and messy and horrible, and you're only going to end up with your feelings hurt. So really, you're better off keeping single.

4 – Marriage involves you in all the nuts and bolts of domestic life and in wanting to please your spouse, leading to so many more demands on your attention. The time and energy that married people spend in caring for and nurturing each other, the unmarried can spend in becoming whole and holy instruments of God.

Even if it does appear to be "working out," you kind of have to dedicate time to someone else who's fickle and fallible that you really should be devoting to Someone who is constant.

5 – You can't fantasize about encounters with Benedict Cumberbatch, Matt Smith, or Sean Maher (or any combination of the three, or someone else of your fancy) when you're in a relationship with someone. Well, you can, but if they find out about it, it threatens their self-esteem. Because if it comes down to run-of-the-mill local boys versus Benedict Cumberbatch, there's no question at all which one you would choose.

6 – No pressure to stay as thin as you were when you two first met. This isn't permission to let yourself go; just sayin', it's nice to be able to randomly swing up a couple pounds on week X of your cycle and know you don't have a ball-and-chain to nitpick at you for it.

7 – That said, you have more time and energy to spend on keeping yourself in shape, if you are so inclined. Instead of helping yourself look and feel better for someone else, you're helping yourself look and feel better for yourself. It's called self-improvement for a reason, right? It's not gonna stick if you're only doing it to make others like you more and not because you really want it. Like with plastic surgery.

I want you to live as free of complications as possible.

8 – No hours-long conversations with your girlfriends asking what he meant when he said "Hello" instead of "Hi."

9 – No lying awake agonizing over how he interpreted your goodnight text.

10 – No worries about Christmas/Valentines/birthday/anniversary candy he'll buy you that you know will go straight to your thighs even if he did mean well.

11 – No worries about buying Christmas/Valentines/birthday/anniversary gifts for him. This means you can put that money toward more important things. Like nail polish.

12 – You don't have to choose between a ball-and-chain and your friends (or staying in to work on a crochet project or curling up with your Bible) when deciding what to do with your Friday night.

13 – There's a certain satisfaction in knowing you have your pick of guys, and they're sitting there hoping you'll choose them, but you never will, and then you get to watch them squirm. Or you can just imagine all that if it makes you feel better about being single when all of your friends are asking why you don't have a boyfriend like something's wrong with you. I don't have many opportunities for power trips...

14 – No pressure to plan a date on a regular basis. If you decide you don't want to go out somewhere after all, you don't have to disappoint someone else. Also, no one to flake out on you.

15 – You don't have to wonder if your ball-and-chain is lying about actually having something else to do that can't be skipped just so he can get out of going to such-and-such a thing (in other words, you don't have to worry that you're the ball-and-chain).

16 – All I want is for you to be able to develop a way of life in which you can spend plenty of time together with the Master without a lot of distractions.

Relationships are a big, fat, waste of your vital life time. Period.

–

No, I'm not a feminist. Well, equal pay, please; but I don't think men should be shipped off to an island somewhere and only used for organ harvest.

It's good for a man to have a wife, and for a woman to have a husband.

…

[And] celibacy is not for everyone any more than marriage is. God gives the gift of the single life to some, the gift of the married life to others.

Seriously, though, I can't see why a boyfriend would be of any practical use to me (hello, arm candy). I suppose a boyfriend can eventually evolve into a husband if it receives enough training and a lot of experience points, but I can adopt if I want kids that badly. Though I would still want for them to have an earthly father in addition to the Father, so there's just no way to remove that monkey wrench, is there...

Oh, duh; I'm already married to Jesus! And if it's God's will for me to have children, then I'll spontaneously conceive – it happened to Mary! And He's the best Daddy ever, so no worries there!

That said...

Fellas; keep trying. Just because I'm totally in love with singlehood doesn't mean I'm Ice Queen.

~Sarah

If I Were the Type to Make Resolutions...

Original Posting: January 2012

They would be as follows:

1 – Turn "Why bother?" into "Why not?"

A half-resolution I made last year was to stop putting things off until later – what was stopping me from going on a road trip (does Olympia to Portland count?), going to a live concert (Josh Groban!), learning how to do something new (knitting) right now?

This phrasing, I think, is more applicable to how I tend to approach things. I tend to not even try for certain things because I don't believe they will go anywhere – I won't be accepted to go on the JCET tour to Japan next summer (um, guess who's going to Japan for two weeks this May?!), I won't receive that scholarship, I'm not going to be picked for an interview much less for the job, he's too cute to be single. There's some persistent feeling of inadequacy that I haven't been able to grow out of, and it stops me before I even start.

I don't like asking "What have I got to lose?" when the answer is "A piece of my dignity/self-esteem." Which leads into...

2 – Learn to forgive myself for my mistakes and leave them behind me for good.

The transition to a new year is a good time to wipe everything off the board and give it a good wash. There are things I've done that I've struggled to make peace with myself about for one reason or another. Self-harm, the lies that came with it, my ex-boyfriend and all the secondary mistakes I made while I was dating him. Any time I've broken a promise and let someone down, including myself.

Not anymore. The person who made those mistakes does not exist anymore. And even if she did, she would be every bit as Forgiven as I am. It is time to finally put it all in the past where it belongs, and move on.

3 – Learn to listen to myself, and keep in touch with my emotions.

I've gotten a lot better at this in the past couple of months, but it needs to become a failsafe habit. Because I have slipped up a couple of times this break by going for the sugar when I should have asked myself why I was so frustrated at my brother and to a lesser extent my mother. Instead of taking out that frustration on eating candy (although, it was chocolate-covered fruit-flavored pieces – can you really blame me?), I should have asked what had me so irritated, why it irritated me, and what I could do about it. Since I don't have a job, much less a place I could move into, there isn't much I can do about my living situation or what food is actually in the house. And no matter how much sugar is in the house I always have the choice to resist, no matter how tempting it is. My brother is pretty much the way he is; any attempt I can make to change him is almost guaranteed to end badly for me, because he has a habit of running to hide behind Mom. Any attempt I've made in the past to get Mom to buy less candy (specifically for me, as in Easter baskets) hasn't been received well.

So it's all on me to deal with the issue, and the solution is very simple; just don't touch the junk. Yeah, it doesn't get me anywhere. But giving in to temptation doesn't get me anywhere productive, either; it only gives me a rush-and-crash followed by guilt and paranoia about fat gain. Obviously, this isn't an anxiety that I need.

4 – Get toned!

Since I'm an American, and a woman, I suppose it's practically obligatory that I put some image-related resolution here.

I'm well aware that I'm relatively skinny already. Granted, I've probably gained a few pounds since being home, but that's beside the point. I'm making no weight-related resolutions – I'm making a body composition-related resolution!

I can build strength, but I've never noticed that I can develop muscular definition. Perhaps I've managed to become slim enough now that any muscle built from this point will actually show up, but eh... We'll see how I manage with my PE class this semester... And if that turns out to feel inadequate, a friend at college has volunteered his triple-blackbelt services to whip me into shape no problem, else I die trying.

5 – Somehow, in some order – Read the Bible.

I've been picking and choosing random books/chapters to read all break, and that's all well and good. But I really would like to at least read through the whole Bible this year. I can't guarantee that I'll get everything out of it that there is to get out of it – and you're not supposed to get everything in the Bible at the first pass, anyway. It's a Living text; its meaning changes with time and with your circumstances. Song of Songs only meant anything to me last time I read it because I was trying to figure out what makes a woman beautiful. The past times I'd looked through it, it'd had very little meaning to me.

And in all things as much as possible, keep it simple.

~Sarah

Self-Image: My Beauty is Absolute

Original Posting: December 2011

"Don't let anyone tell you what you need to look like. You are perfect; you are beautiful; because you are Mine."

Daddy told me this last night, and now I'm sharing it with you.

–

Like many women, I struggle with body image issues. Like many women, I think of what I don't like about my appearance before I consider what I do like.

I know girls who have always been jealous of my body. I in turn have been jealous of other girls' bodies.

But I know now that just being skinny doesn't make you feel good.

–

I have lost a lot of weight since high school. Most of high school, I was 5'8" and weighed 150 pounds.

I just finished the first half of my sophomore year at college. I randomly grew an inch in my freshman year; the last time I weighed myself, I was 120 pounds. Considering that I was reasonably slender in the first place, 30 pounds is a lot of weight for me to lose.

It baffles me. I feel fine. I would be interested to know what a dietitian would say to me, because I got this way by defying "conventional" dietary advice – at school, my diet consists primarily of meat and vegetables. About the only grains I get are wild or brown rice and oats, very much in moderation. Fruit is generally limited to breakfast. At home, so far, it's been fruit (kept to breakfast as much as possible), yogurt, eggs, and whatever Dad makes for dinner (including leftovers the next day or two). No matter where I am, I drink water and tea (green, white, black, herbal) like a fiend. The point is, I wound up at 120 pounds through healthy means. I certainly didn't starve myself; I can eat a lot if I put my mind to it. I do tend to eat a lot that isn't calorically dense – yay, nummy salad! – but I balance that with moderate servings of foods that are calorically dense; meat, beans, frozen yogurt, et cetera.

–

Gain weight: Worry about people noticing, judging, calling me out on it. Feel less comfortable in my body, less confident in my clothes.

Stay where I am: Feel confident in clothes, less stress about people thinking I'm too thick, but know that people worry that I'm too thin. Which makes me worry if I am too thin.

Lose more weight: Worry I have a thyroid issue because I really can't afford to lose more body fat. Definitely have people tell me I'm too thin/that I need to eat.

The girl tortured by others' definitions of beauty despite her best efforts to focus on simply being healthy wants to cry out, "I just can't win!"

–

Last night, I went to a Christmas party that one of my best girlfriends was co-hosting. Her mother, and another girlfriend's mother, both commented on how much weight I'd lost, and told me I should eat more. Possibly they didn't actually notice how many cookies I ate at the party. And I had eaten before heading over. On the other hand, they are both moms, and I suppose it is a natural maternal instinct to make sure the kids are getting enough to eat; I'm probably going to be exactly the same when I have kids of my own.

I would be lying if I said I didn't expect this sort of feedback sooner or later. At Thanksgiving, at Grandma's house, I was so concerned that my family would be making a big deal about how much weight I've lost. Thankfully, no one said anything. But I'm sure now that they were thinking it.

I've been scared to ask my parents and even my closest friends if they think I'm too skinny, because I don't know what I would do if they answered, "Yes."

I lamented on Facebook once in the first semester of my freshman year that it was impossible for me to lose weight without my family thinking I was becoming anorexic. I asked if a size 6 jean was too skinny – consensus was no, it isn't. My then-boyfriend – bless him – told me that as long as I was healthy and felt fine, it didn't matter what size I was.

So that's the sort of mindset I try to hold on to in times like this, but it's difficult when the world says no.

–

So I came home from the party; I'd been thinking about what had happened on the way. I fretted about it while I took my shower, realizing that what I really needed to do was talk to Daddy about it.

And He told me, "Don't let anyone tell you what you need to look like. You are perfect; you are beautiful; because you are Mine."

Good stuff.

But I needed to know why I had to go through this – both extremes, of worrying about weighing too much, worrying about weighing too little, and everything else that comes in between. Daddy reminded me that He does everything for a purpose; that I am here, struggling with this, is not an accident or a mistake. He told me my trial is for the "doctor's perspective:"

Going through this will help me minister to girls who are struggling with the same thing.

I don't know when this will be; perhaps you, reading this right now, are going through a similar Season and need someone to relate to.

–

2 Corinthians 1:3-5, in the Message, says: "He comes alongside us when we go through hard times, and before you know it, he brings us alongside someone else who is going through hard times so that we can be there for that person just as God was there for us."

The more I encounter it, the more I realize this was written for me.

Part of me feels like this is telling some big secret, but it's not a secret, silly! It's in the Bible! I am telling you my story because God wants me to! You can look it up yourself and see!

Heh; I get excited when I encounter my Life Verses. I can't help it.

–

Because I left this hanging, the "doctor's perspective" comes out of philosophy. I think it was Plato who said it, that you wouldn't let a man who's committed every sort of crime become a judge, but you would want a man who has personally experienced every sort of ailment to be a doctor. Daddy reminded me of it in our conversation.

–

So, what makes a woman beautiful?

Well, God didn't give me a straight answer to that one, but I got the feeling I should look through Song of Songs for clues. I can't help reading it as the love between God and myself. I don't see the sex in it, honestly. I see how someone can read it that way, but it's not erotic to me at all. It's the deepest mutual devotion.

The thing that stood out to me, though, is the Woman hesitates to accept that she is beautiful. Just like women today struggle to realize their own beauty, the Woman in the Old Testament cannot imagine her lover could adore someone so "plain" as herself. Yet the Man insists she is beautiful each time he speaks; he tells her that she is a lotus among weeds, that her eyes are like doves, that she is quintessentially feminine exactly as she is.

Daddy says, "My dove is perfection (6:8). Your beauty, within and without, is absolute (7:7)."

Because you are His.

…

Can't argue with that.

–

"Beautiful" is not a word I typically attach to myself. I consider myself attractive; I'll declare that I feel pretty on a particular day because of what I'm wearing or how I did my makeup. But I don't often use "beautiful" for myself because it's a word I want to hear others say.

And it is a Word that Daddy puts into my head. He sings "Beautiful One" to me in the shower. He calls me Beautiful, and it makes me want to cry with joy every time.

So I am Beautiful, just as I am.

And so are you.

♥Sarah

Something I Am Thankful For

Original Posting: November 2011


This is not about what you've done

But what's been done for you

This is not about where you've been

But where your brokenness brings you to

~Tenth Avenue North, "You Are More"

The more I listen to this song, the more I feel this must have been written just for me. It rocks me every time I hear it; the video hits me in my heart every time I watch it, without fail.

–

As I am writing this, it is the night before Thanksgiving. I am home for the four-day weekend, and taking a much deserved break from constant homework and fretting over studying to express my thoughts in a way that's more meaningful than a Facebook status update.

This is only a brief respite; after tomorrow, which I am taking off from homework on pain of I haven't decided, it'll be right back to taking notes on the extensive reading and working on two big assignments for Philosophy (thank you, Father Pratt; really).

But that is later. Right now, I'm sitting here with my laptop on a tiny footstool which I have mounted over my leg. Mark Wagner is playing on my iTunes, and I have a big mug (not my favorite, unfortunately) of ginger tea at my right. After I finish this, I'll take off my current nail polish and redo it in a different color for the festivities tomorrow. Hopefully I'll be able to grab a moment to post this while I'm at Grandma's, but please don't be upset with me if this ends up being a few days late.

I'm not sure at this point where this post will go.

I guess the short of it is that I've been doing a lot of thinking about Thanksgiving lately. At first it was constantly on my mind because I thought my roommate from last fall would be coming to spend the break with me, but then it turned out she couldn't pull enough money together. We're hoping for March, now.

But Thanksgiving remained on my mind. I think it's because I was really looking forward to having the four-day break, to get ahead on my homework a little bit, and to get a break from my current roommate, and to maybe get started on my presents (most if not all of my gifts are going to be handmade this year).

But just now, as I sit here typing this up, I'm thinking about what Thanksgiving has meant to me at different points of my life.

Before I knew that I liked turkey, it was kind of a pressure. Everyone in my family would be enjoying the meal to the fullest extent, and I would be caught up in only mashed potatoes, jello, and cranberry sauce. Really, I only wanted the four days off from school.

Once my pallet matured, I finally began to look forward to the holiday for the reason many Americans do: the FOOD. Oh my goodness; white turkey meat; butternut squash; deliciously-herbed stuffing; PUMPKIN PIE. Not to mention nummy leftovers for days...

And you can bet I'll be bringing some leftovers back with me when I return to my dorm.

But this year, I started thinking about Thanksgiving for the name of it.

–

Even though both my parents grew up going to church, and they raised my brother and I with very Christian values, God didn't play an active role in our household. What I mean to say is, we never went to church; we never said Grace; we never went through any part of the Bible together. After I started going to a youth group a couple of years ago, I asked both Mom and Dad, nervously, if they were okay with me doing this. And you know what they both told me? They both said they wished they had brought me (and my brother) up with that experience. They both thought going to church would be good for me. And it has been.

Where I meant to go with that is, I didn't grow up knowing to be grateful for the things I had. I knew what it meant to count your blessings; I knew that you could be thankful for having every single cell of your body if you wanted to get extreme with it. I knew the pilgrim story. But I didn't understand the enormity of giving thanks to the One who brought you this far.

Anyone who's kept up with my personal life for the past seven, eight months or so knows that I've been having a rough time of it. I know there are people who have it much worse out there, but I want to make the disclaimer (if faulted) that hard times are relative. I was so unstable; I spent so long, so deep in that intense confusion, that I was terrified that I would never be able to get myself out of it.

Recently, I was spilling words into my diary because it had been a while. I wrote about how I felt like I'd forgiven my ex-boyfriend, and how I seemed to finally be over him, and how relieved I was that my personal struggles seemed to be melting away. I'd been writing in that diary a lot; I was more than halfway through with this one.

So, out of curiosity, I turned to the first entry to look at when I started. My heart almost stopped; I practically dropped the diary in shock.

The first entry was dated just three days after I broke up with my ex-boyfriend.

In six months, I had filled 60% of the diary.

My first diary took six years to fill; the second diary took five. All three are about the same size, maybe 4" x 5".

I couldn't bring myself to read more than the first couple lines of the entry. I'd gone cold, and I didn't want to read further lest I risk spiraling back downward again. Part of me wanted to stop the diary there. Just end it. Get a new one, to match the new chapter in my life. But I didn't want to leave the rest of the pages blank like that; it'd be such a waste.

So I picked up a whiteboard marker and ran it across the edges of the pages where my Season of struggle ended, and where my new Season began. When the diary is closed, a clear blue line marks the divide. On each of my diaries, I marked the starting and finishing dates on the first page, underneath the lines where you declare "This Diary Belongs To..." On the first page, for the first section, I wrote the end date. Then on the first page of the rest of the diary, I wrote my name out again, and the beginning date of the second section.

I'm sorry if that doesn't make a whole lot of sense... It's one of those things that's a little easier to show than tell, I guess. But it felt very symbolic to me. So I'm sharing about it here.

Maybe someday I'll have the courage to look at those pages in the first 60% of the diary. I pray that God will give me the strength when the time comes.

But... when I saw those few words that I did, read the despondency in them... I've said this before; I want to go back and rock to sleep the girl who poured all of those words out of her heart. Glimpsing that first entry made me realize how far I've risen up from rock bottom. I couldn't think anything; I was too stunned.

It's a long story that I've addressed in one form or another in several blog posts, and I'm sure I'll continue to talk about it for a while, because it's a period of my life that I know I won't forget easily. So I'm sorry if my constantly referring to it annoys anyone, but the simple fact is I'm still trying to understand everything that happened to me. I've already blocked a lot of it out, I think. It's moving behind me, like it should be, but now and then something will happen or someone will say something and I'll remember a detail and my mood changes. It's not going to go completely away anytime soon. There's a part of me that doesn't think it should; not until I can articulate what happened to sink me so low, and what happened to lift me back up.

It's easy to say that distancing myself from God for so long led to my fall, and that running to Him again pulled me back up. And honestly, that explanation works for me.

There's a voice that tells me I need to be able to phrase that in secular terms; maybe that's what I'm hung up on, and why I keep revisiting it all.

You know what? I think that voice is lying to me. It is the last remaining dredge of myself from when I was in a relationship with someone who absolutely refused to take God for an answer, and it needs to be put down because it is dragging me down.

All I can say with any certainty is that, after all the mental tricks, after all the peptalks I tried to glean from any source I could; I only began to transcend to where I needed to be after I made God a priority. He needs to be top priority; I confess I'm not quite there yet – and I could blame all the work I have to do for school but that's still not an excuse. Someone Who is around all of the time, seeing everything you do, Who you can't hide from, and for it all is ecstatic with everything you ever do and wants nothing but the best for you -- there is no excuse not to make Him top priority.

The other day, I was feeling really antsy; I couldn't concentrate on my homework because I was so excited about I don't even know what. Daddy God told me to look out the window, so I pulled up the blinds. It had snowed a few days previously, and though the snow had melted in a matter of hours with no chance of returning, the weather still looked snow-colored. Daddy said, "This is your life." And I felt so happy! I agreed; asked Him what He wanted me to do. He told me to go dance in it. 

Well, if you've never been to Washington or heard much about it, or if you've forgotten Washington is even a state (um, yeah, the West Coast isn't just California; don't forget about Oregon and Washington up here): Washington winters are cold. Though it's not as bad as Minnesota or Colorado (or the East Coast; woof), it certainly gets too cold to just go out and dance like a crazy person.

Long story short, I opened up a Christian radio station and had a spontaneous worship break in my dorm. I don't know what the people living below me thought was going on in my room, but I was having the greatest time! (Jumping up and down sounds very different from a squeaking bedframe, right...?)

Slightly off-topic, but it's relevant. When I went to Repossess in October (I don't recall if it's nationwide or not, but if you've never heard of it, it's basically a huge church service for Christian youth in the community), the pastor said during the sermon that God had given him a Word about a student rocking out in their dorm at college, starting their day by worshiping God. I completely received that word, and I receive it again now. While I hesitate at active worship in the morning (um, I don't think my roommates would appreciate being woken up at 6AM because "Beautiful One" came up on the queue), I did spend the first week or so of college listening to the Christian radio station while I ate breakfast. I'd like to do that again, but it tended to make me dawdle a little too much once I settled into the new school year. Maybe next semester...

Anyway, my spontaneous worship break made me think of that.

And to sum all of that up; God's become a priority in my life. Which is very good. I feel a lot better for it. I think the time may come soon enough, within a year or so, where I'll have enough confidence in my relationship with Him that I can include someone else in my life again. I'd really like to have spent a lot more time with my Bible, though. Maybe I can get on that over winter break. I don't think I'll be able to read the whole Bible (not without properly absorbing the Word), but it'll be a start. I recently joined Scriply, a Christian blogging community. One of my girlfriends told me about it; she writes a lot of commentaries, testimonies, all sorts of epic stuff. I look forward to when I feel like I have enough of a handle on the Word to be able to talk about it in my own way. Perhaps I'm there already and I'm just scared, but I know Daddy will call me to it when the time is right.

So... To abruptly get back to the topic... I hope it's clear enough how this entry all fits together with the title (ignore everything your English teachers ever said to you)...

What I am most thankful for is that I am here today, exactly as I am. I am thankful for the experiences I have had, regardless of how painful any of them might have been. I am thankful that I had the struggle, because I emerged from it a much stronger person. I learned a lot about myself through it all, including stuff I'm not sure I was ready to admit. I have a confidence that I definitely didn't have this time last year. I have a stronger sense of self-worth. I'm still introverted; I'm still not going to walk into a group of strangers (or even a strange party of one) unless you shove me into it. But I know I've changed; I know I've grown up. I think only time will reveal to me all the ways that this trial has shaped me, but why should I expect a seven-month process to turn up its rewards so quickly?

I am thankful to God, that He brought me through the most difficult Season of my life, into this new Season where I can feel so much Promise. I just know awesome things are in store for me, and the anticipation is exhilarating, when I stop to think about it.

This is my life. And I will dance in it forevermore.

Shine on~

♥Sarah

RE: For the Holiday Season, a Wishlist of Sorts

Original Posting: November 2011

Funnily enough, the other week I read a blurb on Yahoo! about dating site profile cliches, and why they don't mean a thing.

And then I thought of that post I made, and realized that there are places where I'm not telling anyone who I am, but moreso who I'd -like- to be, and how I hope he can bring me to become that person. Which is totally not the point of looking for someone to spend the rest of your life with. Yes, you can expose each other to new hobbies, but I think it's important to keep in mind that any changes wrought in you, come from you. I didn't change the way I look at my life because someone taught it to me; it was something I had to learn on my own.

But this isn't lecture time. This is about the erroneousness of that post.

So: I feex. If it's not addressed here, then it still stands as I originally wrote it.

–

He won't mind that I'm a child sometimes. There's a couple different ways I mean this. There's obviously the critical way, that sometimes I don't act my age, and I know I'm not acting my age, and at the moment I really don't care. The best way I know to express anger at this point in my life is to throw a tantrum and rage about it until I'm left huddled in my bed crying cos I feel so sorry for myself. Fortunately this does not happen often, but when it does, it's better to let me work myself to the crying stage before intervening... Just sayin'.

Then there's the way we all wish for, the young-at-heart way. The other week, I purposefully sidestepped bare pavement to crunch fallen leaves. I bounce on the balls of my feet when I'm waiting for things, or I sway from side to side to the music in my head. I love Hello Kitty, and stickers make me happy in a way that matching furniture never will. I still sleep with my teddy bear that I've had since I was an infant. I watch "My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic."

I won't play tag, and I won't play hide-and-seek. But I will ride in the tire swing, and I'll try my best to catch a frisbee. Leaf piles might have slugs, but snow angels are a-okay.

Video games are cool, but I think I'd prefer a game of Magic: The Gathering.

And he will listen when I'm being serious. I take life seriously more often than I make a game of it. I'm hoping that this will change once I find that balance between school and life. When I'm in "Down-to-business" mode, I don't generally appreciate attempts to get me out of it, especially when I legitimately have a lot I need to get done.

He doesn't mind spending the night in. I'm very much a stay-at-home personality. I go out to go to classes, to run errands (and I prefer to combine multiple errands into the same trip). I am rarely spontaneous, and though I know that a lot of people live on spur-of-the-moment activity, I am happy and comfortable being the type who knows what's going to happen at least a day or two ahead. I usually set out on my day having at least a semi-solid plan; maybe things'll get shifted around as I find out what my homework situation is, or maybe I can fit in a surprise event in because it turns out I have more time than I thought I did.

Maybe when I'm older I'll have a bit more confidence and will be able to maintain a looser schedule; for the time being, however, I have to keep a planner of my life or I'll forget things that I need to do. I need to know what's happening, to a degree, and even if it's that special someone, I'll still need some kind of notice beforehand. I foresee myself spending nearly all of my evenings – even Friday nights – at home with my knitting and a cup of tea. It'd be nice to have someone to cuddle with...

He knows that "fun" doesn't have to be active. This is one of the cliches that Yahoo! blurb talked about, cos who doesn't like to have fun? I guess the problem here is that no one defines "fun"?

I'm a pretty mellow person; about the fastest I'll move most days is a sprint up a flight of stairs or two because I won't have quite enough time to get to class if I don't. Or maybe a sprint to get my heart rate going and warm up if I actually have some time to work out. Or maybe they put on "Johnny B. Goode" at Oly Swing.

Anyway; I tend toward being a bit of a turtle when it comes to activity. Fun for me could be wandering around Olympia with a little cash in my pocket. It could be going on a nature walk when the seasons are changing. It could be sitting at my desk with tubes of paint and a flower in front of me. It could be putting one sticker on my stapler to release some creative energy because the burden of papers and tests don't allow time for much else.

Fun can be a stimulating conversation. I don't know what about; books, movies, music, the meaning of life, why pumpkin, egg nog, and peppermint make the cold Washington winters bearable... We could be chewing the fat about trivial things or hashing out the pros and cons of keeping our own garden.

If he's looking for a girl who finds fun in putting a necklace together one seed bead at a time, we're golden. If he wants a girl who'll get down and dirty with flag football... Well, there might be a crazy day where I will, but honestly he'd have better luck looking somewhere else.

–

This is a request to Daddy God, but I suppose it applies here, somewhat. I want to be secure in my faith and confident in my relationship with Him before I start a relationship with him. One of the big problems I had with my relationship with my last boyfriend is that somewhere along the way I forgot to put God first. God comes first. I don't need to qualify that with "needs to" or "must" or "should." Because it's eternal. God comes first. God is not the author of confusion, and that statement leaves no ambiguity to dispute. It leaves no room for you to wonder what could precede God in your priorities; nothing can.

And that's something I need to keep in mind. At this point, I can definitely say that I'm over my ex-boyfriend. And for some people, that's a green light to start dating again. I don't know about me, though. There are times when I think I would like to have a boyfriend again, and then there are times when it's the last thing I want to worry about. I've said this before and I'll say it again: I really don't have time or energy for a relationship, whether I want one or not. I need to focus on God. I need to focus on schoolwork and finding a job. I need to focus on me and my life before I include someone else into it again. Okay; if God has different plans and he throws someone into my path whom I can't avoid, then that's His plan, and who am I to deny His work?

For now, I'm feeling pretty darn good. Despite everything, particularly how busy I am with school and being unemployed, I've been quite content with where my life is now. I take that to mean that I'm right back on the path that God's laid out for me. There has to be a reason I'm feeling peace, right?

Until next time.

♥Sarah

On Forgiveness

Original Posting: October 2011

I ended up growing up not believing in apologies. I never meant it whenever I was told to say "sorry," therefore I never believed anyone when they apologized to me. I don't like telling people I'm sorry for anything I've done, because that would be admitting that I was wrong. I always tried to avoid being in the wrong, because being in the wrong meant that kids would bully and make fun of you.

But lately, I've been gaining more and more hints that forgiveness – giving and receiving it – is the most important thing for me to learn right now.

--

I thought, when I spent so much time at SMU feeling so good about things, that I was okay. But I think if there are still things that make me stop and turn pensive, and make me want to cry, then I should know instantly that things are not okay.

I thought I knew what was wrong – that I was merely not quite over my ex-boyfriend yet – but it turns out I wasn't quite right. It was more specific than that.

I've been holding onto grudges and guilt, for even more than a year. I've known it for a while. But I didn't realize how much of an effect it was all having on me.

Grudges and guilt. Neither is healthy, but both can be difficult to deal with if you're not used to them.

The grudge is obvious. I was angry at my ex-boyfriend. After we broke up, I had those four long months of summer to think about absolutely everything, as I'm sure I've said before, and I drew possibly erroneous conclusions. That he got a new girlfriend – whom he's admitted point-blank to me that he loves, is even thinking this might be the girl he wants to marry – so soon after we broke up, completely did not help. It felt so unfair to me that he should move on so quickly while I was stuck.

We ended up talking about it a little, very briefly, the other day. I could tell he was trying to get me to at least smile a little at first; I'd been very cold to him the last several times we'd been in proximity to each other, ignoring him and otherwise being rude. He initially didn't understand why I was acting like that – he thought he'd treated me well while we were dating, and to get that in return, as he put it, felt like a slap in the face. He texted me asking why, a few days before this conversation, and I just left it. I thought he shouldn't need to ask in the first place; since he asked, he needed to take some time to mull it over.

Anyway, he realized I wasn't going to smile for him. I just remained impassive, generally expressionless. Then he caved, got serious, told me he understood why I was upset with him – he had gotten caught up with this new girl, had forgotten that he had been my first boyfriend, for so long, didn't realize how crushed I would be for so long, didn't really consider my feelings. He never meant to, as he put it, step on my toes like that. Turns out he was pretty heartbroken after we broke up, for a while, and stuff happened there...

And then he apologized.

I had asked myself over and over again, what did I want from him? Did I really expect him to consider my feelings in everything he did now that we weren't together anymore? Did I really expect him to meet a girl and say, "You know, I really like you, but for the sake of my ex-girlfriend's sanity I don't think we should date for at least a few months"? Did I want an apology?

I told myself I shouldn't really expect an apology, because he was only doing as guys do; to guys, I'm just another girl.

But then he apologized.

I don't know if I can adequately describe the change from him just saying "I'm sorry." It feels really kind of lame to say that there was a total change... but there actually kind of was. It really does feel like this weight, of confusion and sorrow and rage and even some insecurity, has been lifted off of me.

I don't want to say that things are okay now as far as the ex goes. There are still some issues and complexes I need to work through on my own, or maybe with a little outside help, depending on what God reveals to me. But a lot of healing came out of those two little words that I spent so much of my childhood attaching no meaning to. I think it's because I could tell that he meant it.

This may be preemptive, but I think I'm starting to believe that maybe we can be friends again after all this is over... Yeah, definitely preemptive. I have a lot of suspicions to let go of, too... Blah.

--

I am not perfect. I make a point of never declaring that I am, because people tend to mock me for my faith when they find out my flaws, but I still need to stress that I am not perfect.

I try to be nice, or at least polite, to everyone. Being rude or mean puts a sour taste in my mouth and a bad feeling in my stomach. But sometimes I screw up.

One of my regrets for the past year regards a guy I dated briefly in high school. He was the first guy who ever asked me out, and we were able to stay friends after "breaking up." (I never considered us "together" in that sense – just casually dating.) I know he wanted an actual relationship – in fact after he took me to his senior prom he asked if I wanted to make it a relationship. And I didn't want to. And... well, I know that's something he always wanted with me. And looking back on it, I took advantage of that because, even though I didn't have any feelings for him beyond simple friendship, the attention was nice.

After I started dating my ex-boyfriend I found I had a problem – how do I tell him that I'm in a relationship with someone?! I really wanted to tell him to his face, and not over the phone even though he kept calling me... But it just never happened. Things got too busy, and then he stopped calling me. I assumed he'd found out through a mutual friend, and then... I let it go. It weighed on my mind until I stopped getting reminded that I needed to take care of this thorn. And then I never did.

I realized, just yesterday, that this is one of those triggers that's now subconscious. Honestly, I'd forgotten about him... But I know I've broken his heart multiple times and come out of them thinking I was unscathed. To an extent I was, but now I feel guilty.

I sent him an email today. Very sparse; just told him that a lot's happened in the past year, and I felt that I haven't been fair to him at all. I told him I was sorry and that I understood if he didn't want to to still be friends. Told him I was willing to discuss what had happened via emails.

I know now that I should have told him the first time he called after I got in a relationship with my ex-boyfriend, but... I was just too worried about the consequences. I hope things work out...

--

I'm well on the road to recovery, I'm almost there; but I still have demons that I need to take care of, things I've been avoiding that I need to face. They're being revealed to me one at a time as I walk through this Season. This is a Season of change and growth for me, and I need to step up to the challenge.

...

It is time for me to stop running. It is time for me to stand and fight.

♥Sarah

For the Holiday Season, A Wishlist of Sorts

Original Posting: October 2011

Happy October, everyone!

I love this month. The changing colors, the fall fashions (layering and adorable sweaters and knits, oh my!), the food (pumpkin!!!), and just everything about the fall season makes me feel so alive. Sucks that I have to be inside studying all the time, but what can you do? I'll play in leaf piles again when I have kids of my own. Or at least a husband. Or just, y'know, during such a time when I'm not killing myself over homework and I've gotten over my fear of slugs in the icky wet leaf pile...

Being an "adult" kinda sucks sometimes, really.

Not that anyone really pays attention to my blogging, but you view my new profile pic correctly; I dyed my hair! No pictures of the process, I'm afraid (though I did think about it), but I used pure henna to color it. I rather enjoy being a ginger; this was a very good birthday present to myself, and it turned out to be a lot cheaper than I thought. Good deal!

Speaking of husbands, I don't remember if I mentioned my friend getting married... but she did! I could dedicate an entire, separate-from-this blog to how awesome she is, but... Yeah. I adore her.

And while marriage is still very very very very very (times infinity) very way far off in the future for me, thank you very much... For all I've said lately about how opposed I am to the thought of romance in the wake of breaking up with my first boyfriend (um, yeah, still comfy with the heteroromantic asexual label over here), I would be lying if I said that I never ponder over what would happen if Mr. Right just stumbled into my path.

I've had lists of things that I wanted (tall, dark, handsome, and British), that I didn't want (full of piercings and covered with tattoos and a smoker), but I never had anything solid. There are things that I desire and things that repulse me, until I meet someone with those qualities and I realize it's just the opposite. But, in the interest of laying it out for myself, this is what I've got so far. Christmas time is coming up, right?

I don't know where he is. I don't know what he looks like, and I don't know his name. But he will be the perfect piece to fill the space in my heart that God left for him.

I'm taking a risk of being wrong. Maybe I'm being too bold. I hope I can be forgiven.

He will already know God, or he will desire to know Him. This is nonnegotiable. I fear negative judgment, so I am easily stifled. I know God is the only One with the right to judge me and I shouldn't give that right to anyone else, but I am how I am right now. I am afraid of being stereotyped for my faith, because I remember the stereotypes I believed about Christians before I became one. He doesn't need to be a particular denomination (I consider myself nondenominational); he just needs to have a relationship with Him. I tried to work around this for eight months with my ex-boyfriend; he didn't get a clue what I was on about with having faith in something until he got a new girlfriend. Go figure.

I hope he doesn't find my laugh annoying.

He will be a kid and pull me right alongside him... I'm sure I did my share of tearing around when I was a child, though I probably did it more quietly. I've forgotten how to do that; I've forgotten how to gaze with that childlike wonder at a caterpillar inching its way onto a leaf. I've forgotten about the floor being lava, about making couch forts, about snowball fights and squirt guns.

And I hope he can make me laugh. But if he can only make me smile, that's fine, too.

...But he also knows when to be serious. It's not joking-around time until I take my Serious Business face off. Sorry.

Go-to date: Pick a trail; any trail. Start walking. Talk, laugh, freak out at slugs. Repeat.

He can dance. Because I love it when a man can dance – ballroom dance, that is. If he can't dance, he wants to learn, and he wants to learn with me.

Go-to date, winter edition: Fill a mug with a hot beverage. Add fireplace and a comfy couch.

He won't hold things against me. I am particular; I feel things need to be a certain way, and sometimes these preferences are very trivial. Sometimes the things I choose to talk about are incredibly shallow, because I'm just trying to contribute. Sometimes I don't have anything to say at all; maybe I just don't feel like talking, and would rather sit and be quiet. I have a past, and it isn't all as happy and cheerful as I wish it could have been. I have baggage that I still don't have the courage to speak of to anyone's face, and while I try not to let it hold me down, I'm afraid it will be a part of who I am for a while. I am shy; I am introverted; I am thoughtful in the literal (and metaphorical) sense. I'm not strictly-speaking antisocial.

I hope he understands I'm a romantic traditionalist.

He will dump me before he manipulates me. I don't second-guess anything until afterward. I don't wonder if someone meant something else until the next day. I expect guys to manipulate my feelings because they're only looking for sex, but I haven't learned how to consistently notice it real-time. When I find out someone's lied to me, I take everything they have ever said to me as a lie, as well. I just want someone to be real with me; I am honest by default, and I only want the same from him.

I hope he forgives me when I won't open up right away.

He is spontaneous. That's the most succinct way I can put it. He can run on Mature all day, and then a magic wand rolls over somewhere and he wants to break out the crayons and a coloring book for a contest – winner chooses where we go out to eat. Maybe we sing Ke$ha and Katy Perry the whole way to Fred Meyer. Maybe he'll turn the line at the bank into a ballroom. Maybe we go crazy and have a capella worship in the streets with some friends, because we're young and life is just that good. Maybe we take our lunch breaks for a picnic at the park. Or, maybe he wakes up on Saturday and only wants to spend the whole day playing Mario Party.

Maybe his morning won't be complete until he's shared a mug of tea with me.

He has hobbies and obsessions. Sometimes these are one and the same for me, so they're one and the same here. It would be nice if we shared hobbies – I need an accessible crafting buddy in my life! – but we need hobbies apart, too. Maybe he doesn't know how to crochet and he'd like to learn. Perhaps he plays a mean guitar and happens to have a Little Martin that my little hands can wrap around. And maybe I'll die before I learn how to gut a fish and he hates the smell of paint; that's okay, too.

Maybe he'll surprise me by making dinner, once in a while.

I can bounce ideas off of him. I am a writer, and this will never change. But sometimes I need a sounding board when I get stuck. It'd be nice if I could ask him whether it's better to off a character or just let her move away until I find a better use for her; whether a guy of X age and Y family background would really refuse a hot girl for a date for Z reason, without him thinking I might need evaluation at a mental hospital (or cheating).

He has organic dark chocolate? I'll telepathically demand sharing. And he'll hear me, or else!

He won't mind the way I look. Because I'm not changing it for anyone but me. I'm probably going to be as flat as a board until I start having kids; my hips don't lie; my hair and makeup and clothes are my decision. I work out by choice and time availability. I eat healthfully by choice, and I will eat as much or as little as I want.

My family will love him; that's a given.

He won't mind my tastes in music and movies. And maybe he'll share some of them, and maybe he will introduce me to something new.

I hope he doesn't mind that my favorite singers are Owl City and Taylor Swift.

He'll know how to go on an adventure in our town. And he'll want to go on an adventure overseas someday. Maybe London?

Perhaps he likes Owl City and/or Taylor Swift, too.

He has goals. I don't know what they are yet, but he knows, and he's going to fight for them.

Perhaps he enjoys British telly and Joss Whedon.

And he supports my goals. I'm going to work in alternative/holistic medicine, goshdarnit! I know it's a bit out of left-field, especially for those who've known me forever, but it speaks to me. Other than writing novels and plausibly for a magazine, I can't picture myself doing anything else. Also, it'd be nice if he would want to help me with the fruit and vegetable garden I want to have someday!

Maybe he's looking for someone like me.

He's a family man. I love children, and I hope to have kids someday – whether they're born of me, or found by me. He'll be the man of the house, and he'll be the earthly father that every child needs. He's also a traditionalist: children are to be seen and not heard, polite and well-behaved. A naughty child gets a spanking and sent to their room, and no one gets dessert until they've finished their vegetables. Mom and Dad are boss, and that's final.

Maybe he's put me on his grown-up Christmas list.

He'll be the man. Sometimes I don't want to take a risk. Sometimes I want to stay safely in the feminine and let the boys be the boys. I'll come out and play Capture the Flag; I'm not afraid of cleaning up mold and taking out garbage. But I'm leaving roof repairs, the pickle jar, and any spider with a longer legspan than my thumbnail up to him.

Sometimes I wonder if I've already met him.

He's a gentleman. He doesn't have to hold every door open for me or always walk on the street side of the sidewalk, but I am a lady and I expect that he'll know how to treat me like one.

Maybe he's on holiday from the University of Edinburgh.

He respects my boundaries. Being in a relationship is not an excuse to touch me wherever he wants, whenever he wants. He'll ask me if he wants to try something, and he'll understand if I don't want to try it just yet; and he will leave drop the subject there.

Maybe he'll come across this post.

He's handsome. Kinda shallow, but yes, this is important. And he'll know it, but he won't be full of himself. He'd better look good in a suit!

Maybe he'll read between the lines.

He'll be confident, and he'll be kind. This is very important. I don't mean that he's a smooth operator who always knows what to say; I mean that he is sure enough of himself that he doesn't have to be jerk about it or step on anyone else. He respects everyone he meets. He doesn't play with girls' hearts just because he attracts them; he knows what he's looking for and he won't string girls along just because nothing better's available. When he does start dating a girl, it's because he thinks she's something special.

I hope he realizes I'm talking about him.

I'm sure there's more. But I'm half-asleep right now. I had midterms and a paper due this week, so I'm a little out of it. This seems a good enough place to leave off.

♥Sarah