Apr 7, 2015 | Christian Life & Theology
“You are going to be white if it kills me.”
I plopped the bucket on my kitchen floor and got down on my knees, scrub brush in hand. The grout in my kitchen tile is the bane of my existence. I’ve tried bleach, I’ve tried baking soda and vinegar, my good ole’ Murphy’s Oil Soap – nothing would make the grout white. So on my day off I decided to attack the tile with full force: baking soda and hydrogen peroxide.
What began as a small, ‘quick’ project turned into a five-hour affair of misery.
First, I ran out of baking soda (some planning would have been nice). So, I thought, isn’t washing soda pretty much the same thing?
Friends, washing soda is not the same thing as baking soda.
The washing soda and peroxide paste morphed into cement. It took an extra half hour of scrubbing, splattering all over my stove, cupboards, and refrigerator, two bruised knees and a lot of paper towel to remedy my little experiment.
I will never again tell my floor to “kill me” in order for it to be clean. Because it will.
Mar 18, 2015 | Christian Life & Theology, Christian Womanhood
It’s not the first time I’ve used such choice words. Or rather, words of choice – those few who make themselves readily available in situations such as these. They lie in wait for stress, anxiety, car doors and thumbs to make their grand entrance. Not everyone struggles with their mouth and not everyone struggles with their mouth in this way. While I’m not proud about my temptation to swear when frustrated and angry, I’m not going to pretend I haven’t done it, as the story above illustrates with painful clarity. But there’s a bigger issue at play here; a question that may seem silly to ask but in a culture of compromise is one many Christians are asking: should I do anything about it?
Dec 2, 2014 | Christian Womanhood, Singleness
Dear girl,
When I got your letter my heart sank to the pit of my stomach and I felt sick. I read the pain and confusion in every line; the desperate plea for clarity… for identity. When you met Jesus, you gave it all up for Him: all that identified you as you. Your makeup and nails and pretty things, your music and yoga pants. You gave it up because you thought you had to. You thought doing all the ‘right things’ was what faith in Him looks like.
And now you stand here, wondering who you are without who you were, confused, frustrated, and lonely.
Perhaps someone told you to get rid of your manicure in the name of vanity.
Perhaps someone told you your lipstick was too bright.
Perhaps you read my post about yoga pants and thought changing the trappings was enough in God’s eyes.
Dear girl, stop following the rules.
Nov 8, 2014 | Christian Life & Theology
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.
Nov 5, 2014 | Christian Life & Theology
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.
