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Red Heels, Lattes, and Finding Joy In Between

Oct 13, 2014 | Christian Life & Theology

Mondays are my least favorite day of the week, and my resentment towards them builds from 5 PM Sunday night to my alarm’s unwelcome tune at 4:50 the next morning. Yet another week of trying to juggle everything, my mind stews as I make the familiar drive into work, usually running late. I enjoy the busyness; I thrive in it. I love my coworkers. Yet when Monday comes, the dread builds as I realize I must shift from the ‘optional’ to the ‘required’ mode of operation.

Why Your Homeschooling, Modesty, and Virginity Will Never Save You

Sep 26, 2014 | Christian Life & Theology

It had been a day. Not just a day… but a day: the kind that, when you reach the end of it, you either want to put on your best heels and go out on the town or curl up in your duvet and die.

To start, I’d been up late the night before and only had five hours of sleep. I came to work late because I had to pick up some tax forms Financial Aid needed. Then I got sent home sick.

Once home, I found out the tax forms still weren’t right. I couldn’t reach Mr. M, who was in Tennessee – and he’s who put the forms together.

Nationwide wanted information on our renter’s insurance, which I also didn’t have.

I tried to call the doctor to pay an outstanding bill and they wouldn’t answer. I called another doctor – the one I’d been trying to get an appointment with for three months but couldn’t because the last one wouldn’t send my records – and they stated, once again, that my records were MIA.

So I sat on the sofa in Mr. M’s t-shirt eating a bowl of Cocoa Krispies, bawling my eyes out for a good five minutes. This is the most effective response under such circumstances.

And I still had a three page essay and seven page paper due that night. My computer decided it would be nice to just shut down in the middle of my essay.

“Moral question:” I texted my sisters. “Would it be wrong to swear while writing a theology paper?” The answer is quite obvious, and I didn’t do it, but my stars! What a day!!

—-

Our lives are a transcript of our theology. We cannot separate what we believe about God from the choices we make.

One of the saddest things I encounter as a writer is the lack of biblical knowledge many Christians possess. They attempt to parse together a knowledge of God from Sunday School messages, Beth Moore studies, and the every-now-and-then quiet time. We live in a world of Christians who might know the word ‘justification’ but couldn’t tell you what it means for their lives.

Our doctrine – our theology – it matters. It is fundamental to absolutely everything we do as women. What you believe about God and His gospel story will affect:

How you speak
How you think
How you dress
How far you go with your boyfriend
How you navigate your future
How you view marriage and children
How you handle your finances
How you view your purpose in life

Don’t believe me? Here’s an example.

Glory Filled: Your Body is the Temple of God

Sep 10, 2014 | Christian Life & Theology

The plan had been given with strict instructions to meticulously craft every detail. The materials were of choice selection, imported from afar. The field of laborers was vast, totaling 70,000. The quarrying of stone required another 80,000. Still another 3,600 oversaw the work.

This would be no small undertaking.

With King Solomon at the helm, all worked together to create such splendor as had never been seen. After all, this was the Temple of the living God and nothing less would do. It had to be unmatched in magnificence.

Twenty-three tons of gold overlaid the walls. The beams, the nails, and the door sockets were made of gold—even the floor was overlaid with the precious metal. All of the priestly utensils were finely crafted before being overlaid with gold. Palm trees, chains, pomegranates, and cherubim decorated the walls, adding lavish marvel everywhere the eye could wander. Jewels graced the walls in elegant display.

Within the heart of the Temple hung a fine linen curtain lavishly decorated with blue, purple and scarlet thread. Here was found the most significant place on all the earth. The Holy of Holies. Beyond this curtain stood two cherubim. Together, their wingspan drew 30 feet of shelter above the Ark of the Covenant, dwelling below. The Holy of Holies.

Seven years of tireless effort brought the close of the building period. It was here. The moment all had been anxiously awaiting. In grand procession, the Ark was laid to rest beneath the cherubim. Dressed in fine priestly garments, the Levites stood to the east of the Temple. One hundred and twenty trumpeters accompanied cymbals and other instruments in magnificent unison. All lifted their voices in great praise unto the Lord.

“He is good! His faithful love endures forever!”

This was their song. Can you hear it?

Then, a thick cloud descended. A hush may have covered the crowd in silent awe and memorization.

The glory filled the Temple.

To the Girls In the Pew Ahead of Me

Aug 23, 2014 | Christian Life & Theology

You don’t know me. I don’t know you.

I saw you come in and sit down in front of me, smiling and hugging each other, looking around the sanctuary for familiar faces. During the greeting break you shook my hand, we exchanged a few words; maybe ‘Hello, how are you?’ or ‘What’s your name?’

You are all very pretty. Beautiful, actually: tall, thin, with good hair, nicely styled. Your makeup is perfect, even if you don’t think so. You are quite a good looking trio.

I didn’t keep watching you – I’m not that creepy. But after the sermon, as you walked out the door, I wish I had touched your arm and spoken.

I wish I had thanked you.

There’s something else you don’t know – other than me, that is. You don’t know that this Sunday there was a young man sitting behind you; a young man who desperately needs Jesus. I’ve been praying for him for months and it’s a miracle he was even in church today.

He probably didn’t come to church looking for Jesus. He likely came for a pew like yours – a pew of girls. But you provided him no distraction.

Every one of you was attractive. Every one of you could have advertised that attractiveness with what you wore, drawing attention to the shape of your waist, your curves, or the length of your legs. But you didn’t.

When you worshiped God in front of me and the young man behind you, the most prominent visual of your character was your heart for God. When this young man may have been looking for a distraction, he couldn’t find it with you…

I Waited Until My Wedding To Lose My Virginity, and It’s the Best Thing I Ever Did

Aug 13, 2014 | Christian Life & Theology, Sexuality

Phy, you need to read this.”

I got that text from my friend while I was sipping coffee in renovated cottage-turned-cafe. It contained a link.

“This writer did a purity pledge,” The texts continued. “And has rejected all of it. You need to read it, and some of the comments.”

So I did, and as tears welled in my eyes, I knew I’d have to do what I really don’t like doing: write a response post.

The article was entitled “It Happened to Me: I Waited Until My Wedding Night to Lose My Virginity and I Wish I Hadn’t”. I read it in its entirety. The more I read, the more heartbroken I felt for Samantha (the author) and the twisted experience she relayed in the post. But my sadness was overwhelmed with a sense of utter urgency.

A lot of young women will read that post: young women who have made purity pledges and are waiting for an excuse to walk away from them. Young women teetering on the bring of sexual and spiritual destruction. Young women wondering if it is even worth this waiting-for-marriage.

So I’m going to battle for the other side because this waiting-for-marriage thing – it’s worth it. In fact, waiting for marriage to lose my virginity was the best decision I ever made.

1. My commitment to purity wasn’t to a church: it was to Christ Himself…

5 Things to Do When You Don’t Know What to Say

Aug 8, 2014 | Christian Life & Theology

“There are times silence is like lettuce in your teeth; incredibly awkward, but without a sudden exit to the bathroom, no way to deal with it appropriately.

Our high school method for such silences was to lay one hand on top of the other, spinning thumbs like a turtle’s fins and hollering “AWKWARD TURTLE” until we were all laughing again. But I can’t do that at work, even though there are times I’d really like to. I can see it going down in the conference room, me in my black suit looking professional but completely ‘I Love Lucy’ on the inside:

“Where did these matriculation rates come from? The business intelligence office?”

{Silence.}

“AWKWARD TURTLE!”

It could be really great.

There are a lot of times I don’t know what to say, whether it be in a conference room, on the phone with a friend, or in the living room with my husband. Sometimes I know what I want to say but I know I shouldn’t say it, which leaves me gasping for synonyms like a landed catfish.

But God gives us a template for what to say in those situations. He even gives us a few options to choose from.”

Type A Diaries: Becoming Interruptable

Aug 4, 2014 | Christian Life & Theology

Type A Girl here.

I love children, and I can’t wait for the day Mr. M and I have our own. We’ve arranged our life in a manner that plans for children and is ready to support them if they happen to appear on the scene. But I’m not living in a fantasy world.

I already know what’s going to happen when my precious, mostly-silent infant gains a tongue and mobility: I’m going to be interrupted… all the time.

When I think about our future family, I get this knot of trepidation in my stomach not because I know I’ll be inconvenienced and interrupted, not because life will change, not because some sort of perceived ‘freedom’ is taken away by having kids – but because I know that my current self would have a very, very difficult time dropping everything to take care of pint-size interruptions.

It’s bad enough at work, during my spring cleaning, or even while I’m staring obsessively at my whirring KitchenAid.

I hold up one finger. “Hang on! I’m in the middle of something.”

“But -”

“I can’t talk right now, I’m doing things.”

Which is a lie, because I’ve always been able to talk while doing things. It’s one of my most developed skill sets.

I work with the most interruptable woman I have ever met. Her name is Joy, and she lives up to that name in everything she does. No matter what she is doing – which is always a lot – she will set it down, look you in the face, and listen to your need. She’ll help you. She’ll take care of you. She’ll even do your job for you. And she’s not the least bit put out by the fact you gave her no notice at all….

That Day He Wore Skinny Jeans: 5 Reasons Men Should Be Modest, Too

Aug 1, 2014 | Christian Life & Theology

The band was performing with gusto, lights flashing, fog fuming, guitars screaming. The lead singer rotated between unintelligible hollering into the microphone and racing around the stage with his companions. But it wasn’t his voice – nor his sick guitar skills – that caught my eye. His pants were, quite literally, center stage.

Not only were they skin tight on his large man-thighs, they were awkwardly skinny at the ankle, making him look something like a Thanksgiving turkey. And he definitely didn’t pick Curvy Fit, because the waistband was in a terrible state of gappage. I could see the better half (worse half?) of his plaid boxers, and I was more than a little grossed out.

In defense of female immodesty, some say: “Why are we only talking about women? What about the men, don’t they have to be modest too?” This argument is, at its core, invalid and fallacious; an ignoratio elenchi (ignoring the actual refutation) that shifts focus from the woman’s responsibility by drawing attention to the responsibility of the man. It never deals with the issue itself. Modesty, as pertains to women, is a dual responsibility, one that requires men keep their eyes to themselves and women to show self-respect and love for God by how they choose to dress. The 5 Myths of Modesty post deals with the female side of this equation.

But do men need to be modest? That’s what I’m addressing today.

Modesty is simply humility of mind worked out in dress. As the 5 Myths post concluded, how we dress is a direct reflection of our personal choices of behavior and worship of God. It is by no means the ONLY reflection – but it is one of them. Therefore the same attitudes, actions, and responsibilities that apply to women and modesty also apply to men…

Go Now, and Sin No More

Jul 30, 2014 | Christian Life & Theology

The light was bright as the sun: gleaming, searing, so intense I could only squint down at my feet as I shuffled up the steps. Enormous doors opened slowly as I approached, their engravings deep and elaborate. Everything – the doors, the steps, the light – was brilliant white.

Type A Diaries: He Should Be Able to Handle It

Jul 18, 2014 | Christian Life & Theology, Christian Womanhood

“Turn around and do it again!” My coach yelled from the fence.

“Tighten your legs!”

“Heels down! Look at the corner!”

“Turn around and do it again! Pick his hind feet up!”

Over and over I steered my horse along the fence rail and pushed him into a canter. Over and over I adjusted my seat, pressured him in the ribs and tried to force him to change his lead. His ears flicked between my murmur and my coach’s yell.

“That’s it, boy, come on, you can do it,” I said softly. I tapped his hindquarters, pushed him forward and twitched my ring finger. I felt the slight jolt of his shoulders and his stride changed. Immediately, I stopped him and patted his neck; his chest was heaving from thirty minutes of repetition.

The relationship between a horse and rider is more of a partnership than anything else: the rider asks something of the horse, and the horse responds in turn, with the reward of pats or pasture for his efforts. He may not always like the commands he receives; he may buck and pull and resist, but it is the rider’s job to train him into submission so the horse is fulfilling his full potential.

Husbands are not horses, but sometimes we treat them like they are.

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