Rational Words, Irrational Love

I wrote the majority of this post a few days ago but hesitated in publishing it.  My pastor's message yesterday morning was about the mission of reconciliation that all believers have, and it also was about allowing the Holy Spirit to guide our interactions with others, rather than vehemently and passionately witnessing - without BEING a witness.  It is with that encouragement that I decide to share my thoughts here.

Christianity is not a "rational" faith.

We hold to the belief that there is a force beyond ourselves that created the universe, yet sees humans as individuals worthy of infinite love.  We believe that the Son of said force (we call him God) was born from a young virgin, that He performed crazy miracles, taught people to love each other and love God, and died on a cross.  We believe that He came back from the dead and gave His believers the power to perform miracles greater than His.

Yes.  It sounds totally, completely, insanely nuts.  NUTS.

Yet it is the foundation for an entire faith claimed by millions of people.

Can people who even believe this stuff be considered rational?

I hope so.

I'm one of them.

I try to keep hot-button topics off my blog and other social media outlets.  With all the big stuff out there (Planned Parenthood, homosexual marriage, the Duggars, Bruce Jenner, etc.), it's so easy to misinterpret facts (or miss them, or leave them out completely), and voiced opinions quickly get passionate.  And ugly.  I'm on the verge of swearing off clickbait articles altogether and refusing to read comments on any other more "credible" new sources, too.  So often, reader responses overshadow the content in the story, and range from passive-aggressive Scripture quotes to hateful diatribes laced with atrocious accusations and even more atrocious grammar.  Frequently, the comments are aimed at other commenters, and not at the article itself.

With such venomous mud-slinging covering all people groups these days, Christians find themselves in a unique position.  At least in name, we were once the "ruling class" in America - especially white, middle- and upper-class Christians.  We suddenly find ourselves having to defend our beliefs in the face of a dramatically changing political and moral landscape.  As few as twenty years ago, a great many Americans identified as having mainstream Judeo-Christian beliefs.  Now, those same beliefs are considered by many to be outdated, intolerant, and bigoted.  The beliefs haven't changed but America has.

How do we continue to be heard - and actually listened to - in a country that frequently mocks our faith and denies our God?

Simple.

We speak quietly.  We choose gentle, respectful words.  

We let our actions speak for themselves.

We love more loudly than we talk.

This revelation hit me hard this week, when I posted my first comment about the Planned Parenthood scandal on my Facebook page.  A rather liberal friend from college noted - with great respect, I must add - that my source was mistaken.  Admittedly, I did not fact-check, because I respected the source of the article.  What followed was a careful, deliberate conversation about faith, facts, and - surprisingly - forensics.  Forensics as in debate, that is.  

When Christians - especially conservative Christians - choose to share their values, whether in a public or private setting, it is imperative that we fight fair.  People like to cite Jesus flipping over the moneylenders' tables at the temple (Mark 11:15) when they talk about an unfair status quo that needs to change. They forget, though, that the vast majority of His ministry was spent preaching, teaching, and healing.  He taught with stories and parables.  He knew the Scripture, inside and out.  He loved God, and obedience to God was His first (and only) priority.  Jesus always had His priorities and His facts straight.  He spoke with love to the people who were truly curious about what He was saying .  He ignored the naysayers and refused to chase them down with Scripture after Scripture, citing why they should follow Him.  Instead, He answered them simply, with the Truth (Mark 2)  I have a hard time believing that He, were He walking the earth today, would hashtag his status updates with #sorrynotsorry and #justsayin.  I'm thinking He wouldn't spend hours trolling controversial news topics and making snarky comments at other people.  I don't even know how much time He would spend picketing abortion clinics.  Yes - I went there.  I'm not saying He wouldn't oppose them (He stood by the Law, which forbids murder, so I don't think there's a question there), but instead of ranting and raving about injustice, He spent hours teaching the people who wanted to learn.  He spent most of His time with people who "got" Him (even though Scripture tells us that none of them ever really did until He had been resurrected).  He poured into them so that they could teach, preach and heal others.  

I throw down the gauntlet - a challenge for Internet-savvy Christians - particularly American ones, and particularly conservative ones.  Can you be as deliberate as Jesus in your next social interaction online?  Can you refrain from name-calling?  Can you do more than just post a verse and wait for others to bite?  Can you stand up for the disadvantaged without shaming them or others?  Can you enter into a debate with collected thoughts, respect for your opponent, and the desire to rationally represent a totally irrational faith?  I am not saying that we should sit quietly by while our country falls apart.  Being collected and rational does not mean that we stop sharing our beliefs.  Not at all!  But it means that we acknowledge that we won't get anywhere by handing out religious tracts and side-eye at the same time.  We can't say that we love others while we force fear down their throats, while we call them disgusting and obscene.   With double-talk, we play into the title of "hypocrite" that they have given us, even as we drive them farther and farther from the Truth.

Or have we forgotten that we were saved from our own sin by the One whose name we have taken - not by any act of our own?

"Then we will no longer be immature like children.  We won't be tossed and blown about by every wind of new teaching.  We will not be influenced when people try to trick us with lies so clever they sound like the truth.  Instead, we will speak the truth in love, growing in every way more and more like Christ, who is the head of his body, the church." - Ephesians 4:14-15

The verse above indicates that becoming more like Christ is a result of acting out of love - specifically, speaking the truth in a loving, respectful way.  It contrasts this behavior with the chasing of new ministry fads and ways of thinking, encouraging the readers - early Christians - to stick to the simple truth of the Gospel and not get caught up in how to make it cooler, more relevant, or prettier.  Sometimes, I think the circus that is social media makes it very easy for aspects of our faith to be blown out of proportion, or to easily bury the simple truth of God's love in piles of controversy, quotes, statistics, and half-truths.  A verse, taken out of context, can incite riots.  We have become a deeply sensitive people, ready to take offense at virtually anything.  We are ready to take up arms to fight a war born of misunderstanding.  We are willing to scream about injustice and morality at the top of our voices, yet we refuse to listen when the Holy Spirit leads us into quiet conversations, meditation, prayer.  We have become unreasonable in every way.

I love what the Lord says in Isaiah 1:18.  He is speaking to his beloved, but rebellious people.  They have trampled his commandments time and again, and been out from under his protection as a result.  They have chased false idols and wooed other gods, they have disobeyed him, disregarded him, mocked him.  Yet he is patient and he invites them back into his arms: "Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool."  He then simply asks for obedience and promises great blessings - unseen and unimagined blessings.  He promises Jesus, Whose blood - in the years to come - will make them clean again.

If God sets forth the invitation to be reasonable, cannot we, as Christians, follow suit?  Let us share that beautiful, irrational, ridiculous, extravagant, endless love that saved us from hell.  But let's do it with clear minds and careful words.  Let the sparks we ignite be the flames of revival - not flame wars.

On Second Thought...

Although I cannot recall the attribution, I recently read somewhere that the first thought that pops into your head about a person or situation is the one you were "trained" to have.  The second thought is the one that defines you as a person.

The idea fascinates me.  As a practicing Christian, I want to be more like Jesus - more loving, more patient, more honest, more encouraging.  Yet I'm appalled, sometimes, by the thoughts that seem to jump into my head.  Seeing a young woman use food stamps while she's pulling out her brand-new iPhone and clicking at it with freshly manicured nails while her three half-dressed children are screaming in the grocery cart.  Obviously she's abusing the system, right?  How could she afford a nice smartphone if she had to apply for government aid?  And for goodness' sake, WHY isn't she taking care of those kids?!

Maybe the phone was a gift.  Maybe her best friend works at a salon and did her nails for free.  And the kids - who knows?  Maybe it was such a nightmare getting them out of the house that one lost a shoe and mom didn't have time to grab it.  Now that I'm a parent, I'm beginning to understand that kids are unpredictable.  They have tantrums at the most inconvenient times.  And sometimes, trying to find an effective method of discipline takes time and lots of trial and error.  I didn't "get" that before Ronen was born.

During my time at Starbucks, I learned a lot about relating to people.  I wasn't the perfect employee, but there were at least a few instances where I seemed to get along with "problem customers" better than some of my peers.  It might have been because, each time a guest treated me rudely or dismissively, I forced myself to think: "Maybe he had a really ugly fight with his wife this morning and he's still shaken about it" or "Maybe she has a meeting at work today that she's not ready for" or "Maybe his kid is failing out of college".  I learned - very slowly - not to take criticism or bad attitudes personally.  I learned to separate what was being said from how it was being said.  

This was incredibly useful, too, later, when I worked for another company in a totally different field.  There was a woman there who was very good at her job, but very abrasive.  She never got that "praise sandwich" memo - you know, where you offer negative feedback to an employee by first encouraging them or reinforcing their positive qualities, then give them the "bad news", and finish with something uplifting?

Image from www.alexanderchrisostomou.co.uk

Yeah, it was like that idea had never crossed her mind.  Most people in the office disliked her, and many outright hated her.  One even asked me, flat-out, "How do you get along with her?"  I replied to this person that, when the woman criticised me, I tried to evaluate what she was saying, rather than how it was coming out of her mouth.  If what she was saying was valid - for example, I'd made a mistake while calculating something - then I accepted it for what it was worth, worked on the problem and moved on.  If it was something without merit - just a lady in a bad mood lashing out - then I dropped it and also moved on.

It wasn't easy and it wasn't something that happened overnight.  I'm also sad to say that it is a skill that never fully translated into my personal life from my professional one.  That's the reason I find myself having the "first thoughts" I mentioned above.  Thoughts of defensiveness.  Of judgment.  Of derision.  Most of them, ultimately, are related to pride or vanity.  "I'm better than than person - in some way."  "I would NEVER make that kind of decision."  "What a stupid thing to say; I'd never comment like that."

This even came up in customer service training at my current job in a pediatric office.  The lecturer spoke about "self-talk", which is in essence, the same thing.  He taught that we might not be able to control how we WANT to react when something happens, but we can "talk ourselves down" to a reasonable place.  It's the same thing as allowing your initial reaction to exist, acknowledging it, and moving on to a more humane or compassionate conclusion.

So I'm trying to be far more conscious of that first thought, and decide what I want to do with it.  Am I going to keep it and make it a part of me?  Or am I going to release it and replace it with a thought that expressed more compassion, more patience, more forgiveness?

The Bible has a lot to say about our thought life, too.  It tells us that God knows our thoughts (1 Corinthians 2:11), as did Jesus when we walked the earth as a man (Luke 9, Luke 11). The best advice the Bible gives about our thought life in regards to others, I think, is in Romans.  Chapter 14, verse 13 admonishes believers to "stop passing judgment on one another.  Instead, make up your mind not to put any stumbling block or obstacle in the way of a brother or sister." This is useful advice that reminds us that we choose to pass judgment and it can cause others to second-guess themselves, as well as make us antagonists.  Are we not supposed to encourage and build up instead of tear down?  Are we not supposed to be a united front for Christ?

Instead of "that driver is a major jagoff" I can choose to give the benefit of the doubt.  Consciously thinking,  "I hope he's not in an accident" or "I hope there's no emergency" allow me to see other people as I'm learning to see myself: flawed, but with potential.

We're all human after all, no?

Shame

I'm sorry.

I'm so, so sorry.

I'm sorry for the times you felt hated.  I'm sorry that you felt you couldn't be yourself; I'm sorry if you felt devalued or unimportant.  I'm sorry you were criticized instead of cared for.

I'm sorry you felt like you couldn't speak up.  I'm sorry that you felt your clothing, or your piercings, or your tattoos, or your divorce, or your unplanned pregnancy, or your sexual history made you invalid or unwanted.

I'm sorry that you were encouraged to feel that way.

I'm sorry that, instead of treasuring you, we branded you with your mistakes and set you in the corner - a warning to those who might follow in your footsteps.

I'm sorry that, when you needed a friend, you got a sermon.

I'm sorry that, when you needed hope, you got judgment.

I'm sorry that we who call ourselves by the name of Christ don't always reflect Him.

A few weeks ago, I came across a group on Facebook which purported to belong to a Christian community.  Although I could not verify if it was genuine, it was really disturbing.  Due to the content of the page, I can only hope that it's bogus, designed by non-Christians in an attempt to mock or discredit Christianity.

It was nauseating.  I refuse to post any links here or even identify the organization because I don't want to give them any traffic, but the page was covered in anti-homosexual, anti-woman, anti-adoption, anti-immigration, anti-formula-feeding, anti-rock music, and anti-government propaganda.  The posts were juvenile, taking scriptural verses dramatically out of context and using them to shame and slander those who would disagree.  

The more I think about it, the more disgusted I get.  First and foremost, I am ashamed to even imagine the idea that people might come across this group - whether they are genuine or phony - and think they are an accurate representation of Christianity.  Or any religion, for that matter.  Secondly, I'm so heartsick that, if this is a real group, these people have been so violently deceived by...well, whomever heads up this cult.  Slapping the label of Christianity on this group is like hearing Nicki Minaj's fake British accent and assuming she's the Queen of England.  

I've posted about this before and been very open about my beliefs in person.  I do believe that the Bible is the Word of God.  I also believe that simply quoting it to people is not an effective way to share God's love with others.  I believe there is a right and a wrong, and there is an absolute Truth that really does supercede all of our individual belief systems.  That's generally considered an outdated way of thinking nowadays, and I acknowledge that.  I'm okay with it.  What I'm not okay with is that, because of the actions of some high-profile, low-morality "church" groups, the label "Christian" has become synonymous with "bigot", "hateful", "judgmental", "hypocritical" and "narrow-minded".  

For those of you reading this blog who feel that way, I am sorry.  I truly am.  Although no one's perfect, Christians by the very nature of their faith are supposed to live as closely to the ideal of Jesus Christ as possible.  That doesn't mean condoning what they disagree with, but it does mean treating others with love.  The simplest definition of love, I think, other than the word "God", is this: "to wish someone well, regardless of circumstances."  To be able to love someone doesn't preclude one's own convictions.  

I can disagree with your religion, your lifestyle, your decisions, your parenting, your fashion sense, your bumper stickers - and still love you.

It's my hope that the Christians in your life - if there are any - are sharing the Gospel with you out of love, not a sense of superiority.  Or obligation.  Or guilt.  

Or judgment.

I want to be more like Jesus.  But I am NOT Jesus.  He has the final say, and my job is to try to point you to Him.  To live a life that makes you want to know more about my faith - not less.  To express myself in a way that is honest and clear, not cloaked in mystery and metaphor.  To share my beliefs in a respectful, no-nonsense, accessible way.  To understand that every single person in the world has been given free will and can and will make his or her own decisions.  

Like I made mine.

Perspective

If you haven't heard about Kim Kardashian's multi-million dollar wedding and subsequent divorce proceedings, well, you're probably Amish (or my husband, who shuns social media as much as possible and who still thinks the Kardashians are aliens on Star Trek).  And I'm jealous of you.

Here's the thing.  I really didn't want to discuss this sort of thing at all - not on my blog, not in person, not anywhere.  Too much has already been said; too many hurtful, judgmental words, and too much arrogant criticism...especially by Christians.

I was disturbed to read that a Christian leader whom I greatly admire had shot off a few snarky comments on Twitter about the state of Ms. Kardashian's marriage, and about celebrities in general.  What was said was both perceptive and accurate...but it was also unnecessary and not helpful.  And it made me stop and think about my initial reaction to the whole debacle.  I had joined in on the discussion around the water cooler, denouncing the Kardashian family's lifestyle, bemoaning the fact that, for $20 million, whole villages in Africa could have eaten for months, or hundreds of battered women in big cities could have been given safety, or reconstruction and rescue attempts could continue in Turkey.  I had scathingly agreed that the two couldn't possibly have attended any type of pre-marital counseling, because any self-respecting counselor would have, despite their celebrity status, warned them to proceed very cautiously.  I shook my head as I said, aloud, that my goal was to have my future children grow up in a world where they would have to ask, "Who were the Kardashians?" because such lavish celebrity lifestyles would have long since vanished.

But, after hearing from some other Christian sources who advocated prayer for Kim and Kris, I had to rethink my stance.  I still believe that the wedding had been an obscene waste of money, and that the whole "famous-for-being-famous" trend simply has to stop, but now I'm starting to wonder...why wasn't sympathy my first response to this situation?  No, I don't know them.  No, I can't fathom what it is like to have more money than I could ever properly spend.  No, I am not photographed for endorsements and advertisements, nor do I have my name attached to lines of perfume, clothing, and make-up.  But, like Kim, I longed for a fairy tale romance.  Granted, that's surely where the similarities end (oh, and I had to get x-rays of my butt, too, to prove that I am totally the real deal), but what if I had friends whose new marriage was crumbling?  Maybe there had been some deception, or some disappointment, or a tragedy that one of the spouses had never needed to deal with before. 

Frankly, I am sure that there are couples whose marriage fell apart over what Ross and I had to endure this year.  It's so easy to blame, to accuse, to condemn when something horrific happens - a death or an accident.  Our faith alone allowed us to grow closer together in the midst of great sorrow.

Maybe celebrities are at no higher a risk for divorce than the rest of us, but their troubles are surely more available for us to review.  Just as one would examine a fine collectible up for auction, we appraise them, prod them, poke them, and finally, sit back and make our offer.  "Shameful," we finally sigh.  "Terrible home life."  "Wasteful."  "All beauty, no brains."  "Is this the best you can do?"

I am fairly certain that I would have made entirely different lifestyle choices if I had Kim Kardashian's looks, money, or fame.  But then again, I couldn't promise that, could I?  I am not excusing anything she has done.  I stand by my belief that, even if her marriage had lasted, the money spend on the wedding would have been wasted.  I still maintain that the American public's morbid fascination with Lindsay Lohan, Paris Hilton, and the Kardashians needs to stop.   It's not doing us - or the celebrities - any real good.  Still, Kim Kardashian is a person.  I don't know her character or her nature, but God knows her and loves her and does want the best for her.  I just have a feeling that his idea of the best and hers are very different. 

I also have a feeling that his idea is much, much better.

Open your eyes, Ms. Kardashian.  There's so much more to life.

Put Down Your Sign

Today would have been my five-year anniversary with Starbucks, and I was going to blog about that.  Instead, I'm going to blog about abortion.

Why?

Because the protesters are out with their signs again: gruesome images of aborted fetuses, threats that God will destroy you and that abortion doctors are evil.  They're at major intersections and in front of Planned Parenthood, silent sentinels with bloody banners high.  They're causing major commotion, angrily flung middle fingers and religious slurs.

And it breaks my heart.

I read Twitter updates and facebook notes from both liberals and moderates slamming these people as intolerant and stupid.  The thing is, though, I think these protesters are right.  I agree with their beliefs.  I do believe abortion is wrong.

But this is not the way to communicate it. 

I wonder how many women have approached an abortion clinic, truly undecided as to what to do - and then made the choice to have an abortion purely because the signs stirred up rebellion in their frantic hearts.  "You tell me not to?  You're self-righteous.  I'll do what I want."  And I am sure that many, many women left childless, bearing instead the unexpected fear, guilt, shame and physical pain associated with abortions.

I do not write this message to convince you that abortion is wrong.  I write it to appeal to those who already believe that it's wrong, and who want to know how best to convey that belief. 

In lieu of favors for our wedding, Ross and I donated a sum of money to the Women's Choice Network - a pro-life, Christian organization offering help to women of all walks of life who find themselves unexpectedly pregnant.  They provide ultrasounds, counseling, financial and medical aid, and educational services.  The most important part is that they get to know each woman on an individual basis.  They do not condemn these women with signs calling down sulfur and brimstone from the skies.  No one at the center is prepared to pin a scarlet "A" on all the women who enter.  Instead, they find out who she is, what her fears are, how she feels about being pregnant, why she wants an abortion, or if she is being forced into one.  They do tell the medical truth about abortion; their website even details what happens during an abortion and what the clinically proven results may potentially be.  They offer loving counsel to women who have chosen abortions.  They share the exact same message as the bloody-baby protesters, but there are major differences in both the message and, more importantly, the results.

Because they feel respected and cared for, many, many of these women who visit centers like this one do decide to carry their babies to term.  Some parent, and some put the infants up for adoption.  But the choice for LIFE was made.  I would be guessing, but I'd say that those who made the choice for life because of angry sign-wavers are few and far between.

The New Testament book of Ephesians reminds us that "speaking the truth in love, we will in all things grow up into him who is the Head, that is, Christ" (verse 4:15).  If we are telling the truth but veiling it with hatred and judgment, who will listen to us?  It is hard to see or even imagine the presence of a pure, loving truth when it is covered by layers of accusation and self-righteousness.  Now, are the protesters I mentioned -or those who protest military funerals or the support of Israel or any number of things - hateful and self-righteous?  I do not know; only God sees the hearts of men.  But do they appear that way?  Yes, often.  And to many people, appearance is fact.  If the motivation of the heart cannot be seen in the actions, then why even perform the actions?

(If anyone who happens to read this has found herself unexpectedly pregnant, please visit this website: http://www.pregnancycareinfo.org/home.)

Lying Labels

My frustration is so tangible I can practically eat it with a spoon.

Today I went to the mall to use some gift cards we had been given as wedding presents. I love to shop for clothes, and so much the better when someone has already generously paid for them. But today I was not to return home, reveling in my cute steals or amazing deals. Today I came home not empty-handed, but certainly confused and irritated.

Now, I've given up on the idea that my very curvy, five-foot frame can comfortably fit into clothes cut for juniors (every so often, on a "thin day", I still try). However, my height and weight don't fall into the range of plus-size clothing, either. I've recently started to look in the petites section, but I've been disappointed by the lack of variety, and the awkward way that most of the clothes fit. Sure, they're cut for shorter people, but it would seem they aren't made for shorter people on the high end of the BMI chart. So I've been finding myself browsing the misses section, and there I have found great disappointment.

I'm a size ten. In fact, there are lots and lots of women in America who are a size ten. Some are tall tens, some are short tens, some are "Oh thank God it fits" size tens. My teenage years are long behind me and my body has pretty much settled into the way it's going to be, at least until it morphs during pregnancy, and then again during menopause. I've come to terms, pretty much, with the fact that I don't possess an "athletic" body, nor the willpower to acquire one. I like the way I look in dresses and skirts. I like heels and funky sandals. I look pregnant in empire-cut tops, but I wear them anyway because they are cute and comfortable. I discovered that designers are resurrected high-waisted jeans and I am eternally grateful for it (I repeat: my low-rise days have ended). But something gets me. Something I'm sure that others have noticed.

Not all size ten clothes are a size ten!

Shocking, isn't it? As much as I wanted to rant and rave and feel sorry for my bloated self, I'm forcing myself to be at least a bit mature and try to see a moral here. Fortunately, my step-mum has passed along a lot of Sunday School knowledge to me and I'm learning to see object lessons even in the most ridiculous of situations.

This is what I found:

We all have labels attached to us. Some are "good" labels, like "pretty", "smart", "helpful" and "reliable". Some are "bad", like "troublesome", "foolish" and "needy". Most of these, I think, get slapped our chests when we're in school, and we learn to wear them like "Hello, my name is:" tags. Imagine if we introduced ourselves by the labels that others have given us. "Hi, I'm Pathetic. Did you want to eat lunch with me and my friends Slutty and Geek today?" I would have had to call myself "Used" in school. Few people wanted to talk to me or spend time with me unless academics were involved. I was, after all, a "smart kid" - but I had no fashion sense, sense of humor, or good stories to tell. I was good only for history notes or English essays.

The problem with these labels is that most of us simply apply them without taking a second to try them on. Sometimes the label might fit, but chances are pretty good that it won't. "Needy" and "helpful" are adjectives describing your actions, not you yourself. Sometimes labels hurt, and sometimes they encourage us. Sometimes we want them to fit so we alter ourselves to make sure they do. Sometimes we can't do enough to strip ourselves out of them and try on new labels, but in so doing we're rarely stopping to think about who we really are. Rather we are concerned about the labels others have given us, and what they perceive to be true.

Ouch.

Over the years I've learned that there is only one label I want. I want to be branded "righteous" by God. It has nothing to do with me or my actions, but everything to do with the way he sees me. Funny thing is, it's not a label that any other person has the right to give - or take away from me. It's something that only God can give, and only then when he looks through the veil of his Son's blood. The world has labeled me all kinds of things: "ugly", "fat", "funny", "talented", "selfish". None of those things matter when God has labeled me with his own unique stamp. Don't get me wrong. Sometimes I still try to squeeze into the world's labels. Sometimes, labels still hurt me. Sometimes I label others. But I've learned that a label certainly doesn't guarantee anything like a perfect fit, and I'm also finding that many women actually remove the labels from their clothing once they buy it.

Good move. After all, if you can't see a label, you can't live up to it.

The Shock Value of a Photo Album

You know that sick feeling you get when you see a class portrait of yourself from, say, fifth grade?  That gut-churning embarrassment?  Well, maybe you don't feel sick.  Maybe you feel awesome because you were the coolest kid and your parents took you to Chuck E. Cheese all the time and you got the best grades in school but people liked you anyway because they recognized your value as a person, and you didn't go through that awkward pre-adolescent stage that involved you crying into your pillow every night because no one could ever possibly love you. 

But the rest of us cringe. We see awful hair, teeth before braces, fashions that never should have been created.  We suddenly see ourselves from a different viewpoint.  Here is an accurate, true-to-life representation of our actual appearance ten, fifteen, or twenty years ago (bad hair days notwithstanding).  I really wore that, we muse.  I seriously chose to look like that?

Although my grade-school pictures are certainly nothing I will ever brag about (ask my mom about the Gap-Toothed Wonder I was at age nine), I'm finding that, for me, a much more accurate picture of who I really was can be found in my writing. 

Thursday was my day off, and, in between loads of laundry and snacking on Skittles, I found myself, unsurprisingly, in front of the computer.  I determined that I would not entirely waste the day, and so I started this blog to work on my writing and engage in some serious self-examination.  In scanning through files of old skits, plays, short stories (all unfinished, of course), photos, and blogs, I was fascinated.  Some of the things I wrote, and some of the things I felt seriously astonished me.  

I wrote my first blog on November 20, 2006.  It was a Monday.  I know this because myspace tells me so.  It was a light and fluffy thing simply introducing myself to social networking.  The very second blog (posted a mere eight hours later) delved immediately into the spiritual, the emotional and the physical with lines like, "I've decided that my kids will know from the womb that there is no such thing as Santa Claus."  Pretty hard-core, no? I think I've always been sincere in my writing, sometimes nakedly so.  There are no veils to disguise or guard, nothing to shield myself against attack.  I've come full-circle.  There were moments that showed I did understand what taking the high road meant, what forgiveness is and that I had to swallow my pride many, many times.  I relived the emotions that drove me to write about the unexpected loss of my job at Starbucks, being harassed by a married man who misunderstood our friendship, painful moments in my relationship with my mother, the joys and trials of my faith, the wonderful moments of laughter and warmth with friends and family, and the hollow ache of feeling alone.

When I was eleven I was so afraid of who I was and how others would perceive me that I was always silent.  Now that I am an adult and have little anxiety about what people really think, I open myself like a book, and I am black ink on stark white pages.  And, while I am embarrassed at what were once my feelings, opinions and values, I am also able to look back at my former self and smile.  It was a rough journey, believe you me, but it's one that led me to where I am today.  And I wouldn't change it for the world.

I'm just hoping that, when I look back on these moments years from now, they're better than the crimped bangs from junior high.