Nobody has it all together, but that doesn’t make sin okay (and anger and fear are both sins, because they are contrary to God’s perfect nature). It means I – and you – draw closer to the God who has reached down to make us whole and holy, the only place where we can find security outside ourselves and relief from every fear.
It’s Wednesday galfriends – we’re halfway there!
Today I’m answering the top three questions I received last week:
Is it biblical to desire marriage?
How do I forgive myself for sinning against God?
Is it wrong to date in high school?
Now for this week’s ‘inspiration’. This is a new addition to the blog that, I hope, will make it more personal between us! Below are my favorite quotes, images, songs and books this week.
Images
When I need some encouragement, I like to look at beautiful things. That’s why I created a Pinterest board called ‘Beautiful’. Here I pin all my favorite quotes, pictures, and happy thoughts to return to when I am stressed or worried.
A few of my favorites:
“I don’t want this to come out wrong,” My friend had started tentatively, leaning against the car window. “But I sense a lot of guilt in your voice. Like – you really haven’t forgiven yourself for the ways you have failed God.”
We were driving back from a quick trip to a neighboring city and her words pierced my heart like a sword and I felt the tears brimming. My friend looked at me and said, “Am I wrong in saying that? I just feel as if you’re carrying this burden… and I want you to be free. I just want you to be really free.”
If you knew her – if you knew her story – you’d be astounded at who she is after what she’s been through. You’d be amazed at the joy and freedom of her laugh in light of how she’s been hurt. And me – the one who tapes myself together with lipstick and heels and to-do lists – somehow she was bold enough to break through my blindness.
Because I didn’t even know I wasn’t free.
Dear girl,
You’ve stopped on the breakneck journey of life to read this post, and I’m glad you did. For the moment you’re here, I want you to set down the two suitcases you have in your hands – the one called Father, and the other called Mom.
I want you to set them aside and hear something true.
Every person on this earth has parents, whether that term refers simply to their biological origins or if it has the deeper relational meaning of a family tie. You have a mother and dad. Some of you don’t know either of them. Some of you lost one to death or divorce. Some of you were hurt by them, abused by them, or neglected by them. Some feel you can’t meet their expectations. Some of you were babied and enabled by them.
Our parents have a profound effect on our lives, and their choices have the power to influence us for years to come.
But dear girl, your life is not the sum of your parents’ failure or success.
You are neither a trophy nor a disappointment.
Your identity is not based on your last name or your parents’ actions. They are imperfect people, sinners just like you and me. But their flaws should not dictate our value, or we will go through life measuring our worth against the opinions of people instead of the opinion of God.
Some of us had parents who did things well: they loved us, they trained us, they taught us, they cared about us. But those of us with this story carry another burden: the burden of expectation. Just as some carry the weight of their parents’ poor decisions or disapproval, others carry the weight of comparison. They think their marriage is supposed to look just like their parents’ did. They think their lives, homes, and children are supposed to be just like their childhood. And when it isn’t – as most assuredly will be the case – they are assaulted with discontent and disillusionment.
I think we need courage to get up in the morning and face another day of sameness. We need courage to live another season of singleness. We have to fight for joy, face our fears, and wait on the Lord’s timing in every phase of life – and that takes courage! But like me on my mountain run, we get weak and want to give up. We want to collapse in a ditch, wheezing, “Just leave me here! Go on without me!”
Last night I hosted our first EVER Facebook party on the blog Facebook page – what a fantastic time! We had people from all over the United States, quite a few in Australia, and several in Indonesia, Malaysia and other countries across the world. During the party, I asked for feedback about future posts on the blog. One of the hot topics was “ideas for how to study the Bible”. I thought, “What a great thought!” So here we go! (And like the Facebook page to join us for future parties! We have a book giveaway and all sorts of fun!)
It’s easy to get in a rut when reading our Bibles. I know I’ve been there, and I fall back into that pit often enough. In the Religion program at Liberty University I have the opportunity to learn new study habits and acquire new resources, all of which inspire me to continue studying on my own time. But many of these resources are available to YOU as well!
Below are five ideas to aid you in your own study of the Bible, even when you’re in a dry spell.
1. Choose a place to start (and don’t bite off too much).
I have tried to read through the Bible at least five times. I have never been able to read straight through the old and new testaments consecutively – but I’ve managed to read all the books of the Bible individually! Don’t force yourself to do something in which you can’t maintain consistency. If reading through the Bible in a year doesn’t work for you, focus on one book at a time, get some commentaries to understand the context, and do a deeper study.
One of the flaws with the ‘read-through-in-a-year’, at least that I’ve encountered, is the pressing need to rush through the book. I like to sit down, read a little, mark it up, and truly understand what is happening in the passage. When I have to read my allotted chapter for the day, I don’t do as much study.
The project was in full, Type-A swing – the project I mentioned in Contentment Is not a State of Being.
‘Embrace Lynchburg’ is an effort on my part to ‘grow where I’ve been planted’… to accept the place God has me in a city that is constantly changing.
That epiphany – that contentment-choice – opened my eyes to notice.
I first realized a shift in my mentality as I stood streetside by our downtown bank. Mr. M was getting cash from the ATM and I was looking at the quiet Sunday intersection, overarched by gray November skies that blended into the fading facades of Greek revival buildings.
A leaf blew by my feet, and I noticed the brilliant red against the cobblestone.
The man who always sits at the corner of Main and 9th – he hums and rolls his eyes at you when you walk past. I noticed him this time, not in the ‘walk as fast as I can because I’m so uncomfortable’ kind of way.
I’d left my phone in the car. I’ve been leaving my phone more often these days. I read in the Wall Street Journal that this habit of taking pictures of every moment actually shortens our memory of those things – those baby pictures, the fall leaves on the mountain, that coffee date with a friend. When you take a picture, you don’t have to notice.
I chose to move to Virginia. I chose to make that change from small town of 5,000 to a bigger city of 75,000. I’d say it’s a good choice – I got a great job, made wonderful friends, and met my husband!
But I never really accepted this place as my home.
I have this routine for putting on pants.
To be honest, I don’t like pants that much. I don’t like jeans that much, actually. Six out of the seven days of the week find me in a skirt or dress, and I never put on jeans of my own volition after work.
This is partially due to my hatred for the whole pants-putting-on process.
Jeans straight out of the dryer are a force to be reckoned with – can I get an ‘amen’? I spend a good two hours doing squats, donkey kicks and high knees to loosen them up to a form worthy of the public eye. Trolls would love to see me transgress my own posts about modesty, so fear not: I’m not wearing jeggings. It’s just really hard to get slim leg jeans on drumsticks.
I’m quick to put a shirt on during the pants-dance routine, because the whole cupcake-look doesn’t appeal to me. I’m also quick to put on makeup, style my hair, and wear my signature pink lipstick. I’m quick because it is urgent: this covering-over, making-up, be-presentable womanhood I’ve embraced. I have scars to cover. I have curls to tame. And I have no upper lip, so I have to draw that on.
We pinch, poke, and prod; diffuse, scrub, exfoliate, and pluck; run, lift, and crunch. Even then, we thousands of women peer into mirrors, hoping to hear we are the fairest – not to them all, but at least to ourselves.
We aren’t all discontent with our bodies, lives and homes. But I do think, like me, many women have trained themselves to meet expectations. When we fail, we feel we have no excuse for that failure.
Faith in God is not evidence of a great person, but of a person trusting the greatness of her Savior.
It’s in those stressful moments I cease to remember that greatness. I cease to trust. In that moment, I cease to have faith.