I love to write. I love to blog. Let's be honest. I just love to talk.
On this blog, I love to talk about what is going on in my life. What I'm thinking, feeling, etc. Some posts are deeper and more personal than others, but I always do my best to write the truth.
Since leaving my job at Disney, I have had more time to think about the things that I really want to do with my life. I have my own business where I help people with their health and to build their own businesses, which I love. However, my love of writing has gotten neglected by me lately.
I've been thinking a lot, praying a lot, and talking to anyone and everyone who will listen to me about what I should do.
Here was the problem:
More than writing and talking, I love to learn. Lately, my brain has felt like she's been on hiatus. I occasionally get a letter from whatever place she's vacationing, because I haven't been putting her to work much.
I also used to love reading. I haven't found myself doing that much lately either. (Except for last night and this morning when I spent four hours reading the book "The Perks of Being a Wallflower," which I finished in that time. It felt good to read for fun again!)
Well, all of that is about to change real quickly. Just because we graduate from
school doesn't mean that we ever stop learning, reading or growing.
Now, I'm a woman on a mission. What is that mission exactly?
Well, for me, the most fun part of learning process is the synthesizing and reiterating of what I've learned. So, I am about to embark upon a new adventure where I will be writing about issues that are extremely close to my heart. To educate, to advocate, and to inspire.
These issues center around girls and women. My new blog will serve to inform and educate about the issues particular to them, but it will also provide hope for a better tomorrow. It is my prayer that this new blog will serve as a beacon of light in a dark world. Just because harsh realities exist does not mean that there aren't good people out in the world doing their best to make this world a better place for all of us. Ultimately, I also hope that this blog will move us to action, because it is not enough to be informed about something if we never do anything with what we've learned.
So, stay tuned, friends. You're not going to want to miss this. As soon as I have a link for the new blog, I'll be sure to let you know! :)
Friday, November 16, 2012
Monday, October 22, 2012
Radical Generosity
I was talking to a friend tonight about her adventures while taking the bus. She was mentioning that she had mistimed one of her treks home this week. Because of her miscalculation, she missed a bus and ended up waiting a while for another bus to come.
She sat at the bus stop with ALL of her groceries spread out around her. Jokingly, she said, "This is so embarrassing, but I actually prayed to God that no homeless people would come by the bus stop, because I would have given them all of my groceries."
I joked back, "It's probably a good thing that you prayed that, because you probably would have."
We both chuckled, because we knew it was true. There is NO doubt that my friend would have done just that and she wouldn't have thought twice about it or hesitated.
Now, my friend is not independently wealthy. And no, she does not usually have much to spare at the end of the month either (just like most people). Furthermore, my friend wants to get a new car, because hers is dead. SoCal public transportation sucks, but even still, she hardly complains. Whereas some people might find reasons for why she can't "afford" to give, she ALWAYS finds a reason to give. That's the beauty of it.
She is one of the most generous people I know. We have been friends for long enough now that I shouldn't be stunned every single time she does something generous, but it still blows my mind EVERY. TIME.
Now, I must admit that I try to be generous. But that's the difference between her and me. She doesn't have to try. She just is.
I am so humbled by her. She inspires me and, at the same time, reminds me of two other inspiring women.
The first woman was someone who did not have a lot extra to give either. She was a poor widow who gave a very small offering of a couple of coins to the temple treasury. Her story is recorded in the gospels. When talking to his disciples, Jesus spoke highly of her. "Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others. They all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything—all she had to live on."
(Mark 12:43-44, NIV).
Like my friend, this woman did not give out of her abundance, but out of her poverty. Some of the most generous people I have ever known have not been wealthy people. They have been poor people who have given me their literal last bowl of rice or beans, not knowing where their next meal was going to be coming from. It is with tears in my eyes that I remember their sacrifice for me. In comparison, I was (and still am) quite wealthy, but who was much poorer in ways that money couldn't count.
The second woman was the one who anointed Jesus' feet. Her act was not considered generous based merely upon the price-tag of the perfume. It was a matter of the heart, much like the poor widow's gift. Her generosity, not her gift, is what made Jesus commend her and the reason why the memory of her gift lives on (Matthew 26:13). Those who are the most thankful are the ones who are the ones who are most gracious. Gratitude precedes graciousness.
What do all three of these women have in common? Firstly, their generosity. Secondly, their anonymity.
She sat at the bus stop with ALL of her groceries spread out around her. Jokingly, she said, "This is so embarrassing, but I actually prayed to God that no homeless people would come by the bus stop, because I would have given them all of my groceries."
I joked back, "It's probably a good thing that you prayed that, because you probably would have."
We both chuckled, because we knew it was true. There is NO doubt that my friend would have done just that and she wouldn't have thought twice about it or hesitated.
Now, my friend is not independently wealthy. And no, she does not usually have much to spare at the end of the month either (just like most people). Furthermore, my friend wants to get a new car, because hers is dead. SoCal public transportation sucks, but even still, she hardly complains. Whereas some people might find reasons for why she can't "afford" to give, she ALWAYS finds a reason to give. That's the beauty of it.
She is one of the most generous people I know. We have been friends for long enough now that I shouldn't be stunned every single time she does something generous, but it still blows my mind EVERY. TIME.
Now, I must admit that I try to be generous. But that's the difference between her and me. She doesn't have to try. She just is.
I am so humbled by her. She inspires me and, at the same time, reminds me of two other inspiring women.
The first woman was someone who did not have a lot extra to give either. She was a poor widow who gave a very small offering of a couple of coins to the temple treasury. Her story is recorded in the gospels. When talking to his disciples, Jesus spoke highly of her. "Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others. They all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything—all she had to live on."
(Mark 12:43-44, NIV).
Like my friend, this woman did not give out of her abundance, but out of her poverty. Some of the most generous people I have ever known have not been wealthy people. They have been poor people who have given me their literal last bowl of rice or beans, not knowing where their next meal was going to be coming from. It is with tears in my eyes that I remember their sacrifice for me. In comparison, I was (and still am) quite wealthy, but who was much poorer in ways that money couldn't count.
The second woman was the one who anointed Jesus' feet. Her act was not considered generous based merely upon the price-tag of the perfume. It was a matter of the heart, much like the poor widow's gift. Her generosity, not her gift, is what made Jesus commend her and the reason why the memory of her gift lives on (Matthew 26:13). Those who are the most thankful are the ones who are the ones who are most gracious. Gratitude precedes graciousness.
What do all three of these women have in common? Firstly, their generosity. Secondly, their anonymity.
Jesus also said, "So when
you give to the needy, do not announce it with trumpets, as the
hypocrites do in the synagogues and on the streets, to be honored by
others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full" (Matthew 6:2).
I know that my friend is not one to call attention to her actions, which is the reason why I did not include her name. She would be embarrassed if I tagged her or highlighted her, because to her, her actions are not extraordinary. Giving is so much apart of her nature that once she gives a gift, I don't even think that she thinks twice about it. It's a normal and natural reaction for her to give and she does it cheerfully. I would bet that those other women were much like her.
Anne Frank said, "No one has ever become poor by giving." I do believe that. I've seen that principle work in my life. I always say that when we, God's people, take care of each other, God takes care of us. But it's more than that, radical generosity is the result of giving to those who we know can't or won't reciprocate our actions.
My beautiful, beautiful friend is like a God-sent reminder for me to give even more cheerfully, automatically, and anonymously. I have been so privileged to have witnessed such great generosity in my life. May her story (and the story of these other women) serve to be as much of an encouragement to you as it was to me.
It is my prayer that this generation will be a generation of people whose kindness overwhelms this world. May God bless and multiply our acts of radical generosity. <3
Sunday, October 14, 2012
My Love for Undocumented Children
I was already up late anyway (because I stupidly took a nap in the afternoon). However, I was trying to wind down for bed. My newest bedtime ritual is to read my Bible right before going to sleep. I was preparing to do that when I saw a friend post this status and link:
"Romney wants to veto the DREAM Act and Deferred Action, and I don't think that's just. Please take 6 minutes to watch this video."
Why Honor Students Across The Country Are Being Thrown In Jail
I'll be honest... I commented on my friend's post before actually watching the video. Her headline alone was enough to make me upset (and not in favor of the conservative viewpoint). It took me a few minutes to work up to watching the video, because I knew that I would cry.
Let me tell you why. Whenever I come across any Dream Act or Deferred Actions videos, I see the faces of "my" kids. As some of you know, I have been volunteering at an after-school program for EIGHT years. Now, that is not to boast of my humanitarian endeavors or my generosity. It just paints the picture of the investment that I have had in a particular community and my deep love for my kids. They. are. mine.
People have often said that it takes a village to raise a child and I believe that to be true. With that comes a sense of responsibility and fierce loyalty to the well-being of those children. I have been volunteering at the same after school program long enough to see one my kindergartners graduate from sixth grade this year.
I attended her promotion ceremony and it was deeply emotional for me. She is a beautiful young lady and she makes me so proud, not because of how she performs in school (although she does quite well). I love her because of the type of person that she is and the type of person that she is growing into.
That being said, I have come to know and work with dozens of kids over the years whose futures are just as bright as hers. Some of which are undocumented and truth be told, it doesn't change one thing about how much I love them. Those are my kids and I get to look into their faces every week and see the hope and the potential written all over those faces.
After reading her status, my mind flashed back to recent passages that I had read about the stranger, the alien, or the foreigner. I've read over and over again in my Bible about how God commanded the Israelites to treat such people. I intend to do a more exhaustive search at a later time. But at this point, even without the extensive research, I know that God's instructions were about treating them fairly and justly.
For one second, I would like to make the sidebar distinction between what is just and what is lawful. The two are not always one in the same. Hence, the profession of lobbyists, lawyers, and judges (as well as many others that I have not named). They work to determine what is just. They interpret the law and amend it when necessary.
Now, you tell me how children who had no choice to come to this country when they were little should be punished for the "sins" of their parents. Tell me that that is just. Tell me that that is what is fair or what is right. I dare you to look me in the eyes and say that and then look my kids in the eyes and do the same thing.
But that's the problem. As long as this issue is about statistics and numbers and not actual people, it's easy to generalize and to not feel guilty about the brokenness of our immigration system. It's easy to talk about high level theories and politics and to lose sight of the fact that these are children. And, what are children? People. We're talking about people!
When are we going to wake up and smell the coffee? I believe that God is calling His people to action. He's calling His people to stand beside those who are vulnerable and need our help. I think that He's calling us to move towards a more just system. Most of all, I believe that He is calling us to compassion-- and a heart that seeks to love Him and to love our neighbors.
Please join with me in prayer and in fighting for OUR children. I urge you, on OUR behalf. Stand with us as we seek justice for our friends, our neighbors, and our families. Thank you and God bless us.
"Romney wants to veto the DREAM Act and Deferred Action, and I don't think that's just. Please take 6 minutes to watch this video."
Why Honor Students Across The Country Are Being Thrown In Jail
I'll be honest... I commented on my friend's post before actually watching the video. Her headline alone was enough to make me upset (and not in favor of the conservative viewpoint). It took me a few minutes to work up to watching the video, because I knew that I would cry.
Let me tell you why. Whenever I come across any Dream Act or Deferred Actions videos, I see the faces of "my" kids. As some of you know, I have been volunteering at an after-school program for EIGHT years. Now, that is not to boast of my humanitarian endeavors or my generosity. It just paints the picture of the investment that I have had in a particular community and my deep love for my kids. They. are. mine.
People have often said that it takes a village to raise a child and I believe that to be true. With that comes a sense of responsibility and fierce loyalty to the well-being of those children. I have been volunteering at the same after school program long enough to see one my kindergartners graduate from sixth grade this year.
I attended her promotion ceremony and it was deeply emotional for me. She is a beautiful young lady and she makes me so proud, not because of how she performs in school (although she does quite well). I love her because of the type of person that she is and the type of person that she is growing into.
That being said, I have come to know and work with dozens of kids over the years whose futures are just as bright as hers. Some of which are undocumented and truth be told, it doesn't change one thing about how much I love them. Those are my kids and I get to look into their faces every week and see the hope and the potential written all over those faces.
After reading her status, my mind flashed back to recent passages that I had read about the stranger, the alien, or the foreigner. I've read over and over again in my Bible about how God commanded the Israelites to treat such people. I intend to do a more exhaustive search at a later time. But at this point, even without the extensive research, I know that God's instructions were about treating them fairly and justly.
For one second, I would like to make the sidebar distinction between what is just and what is lawful. The two are not always one in the same. Hence, the profession of lobbyists, lawyers, and judges (as well as many others that I have not named). They work to determine what is just. They interpret the law and amend it when necessary.
Now, you tell me how children who had no choice to come to this country when they were little should be punished for the "sins" of their parents. Tell me that that is just. Tell me that that is what is fair or what is right. I dare you to look me in the eyes and say that and then look my kids in the eyes and do the same thing.
But that's the problem. As long as this issue is about statistics and numbers and not actual people, it's easy to generalize and to not feel guilty about the brokenness of our immigration system. It's easy to talk about high level theories and politics and to lose sight of the fact that these are children. And, what are children? People. We're talking about people!
When are we going to wake up and smell the coffee? I believe that God is calling His people to action. He's calling His people to stand beside those who are vulnerable and need our help. I think that He's calling us to move towards a more just system. Most of all, I believe that He is calling us to compassion-- and a heart that seeks to love Him and to love our neighbors.
Please join with me in prayer and in fighting for OUR children. I urge you, on OUR behalf. Stand with us as we seek justice for our friends, our neighbors, and our families. Thank you and God bless us.
Sunday, October 7, 2012
Understanding People
This week has been tough. Especially since growing pains are... well, painful.
I've talked about this over and over again this past month about being outside of my comfort zone in pursuit of success in my life.
The desire to succeed (or to win) is something that has always been a strong motivator in my life. Anyways, in my line of business, I am learning that I have to reframe the means that I am using to get to the end. It means that I am learning how to work with people and understand what motivates them.
Let me tell you, that is no easy task. In fact, I'd say that it down right sucks. Haha. Seriously though, I've spent the better part of the week feeling frustrated because people confuse me so much.
In my graduate studies, I got used to by-passing people who weren't over-achievers like me. If they didn't keep up, they got left behind. Right, wrong, or indifferent, that was just reality. And group projects, don't even get me started. I know that that is something that we were constantly made to do, but within the time constraints of a quarter, I doubt we ever successfully figured out what it meant to work as a group.
I don't think it was my school's fault. It was due to 2 things: 1. Time constraints; 2. My (and/or our) desire to not "fail." (Which I rediscovered this week is really the root of my motivation.) Sure, I never got a bad grade on a group project, but do you know why? Because I usually ending up doing the lion's share of the work. Did it frustrate me? Yes. But did it stop me from doing what it took to get a good grade? Nope.
My desire not to fail is so deeply ingrained in me is something that I didn't realize until recently that not everyone has that. Where does it come from? As cliche as it sounds, it came from a rough upbringing. Yeah, it's the age-old story of having a poor relationship with my dad. I just took the negativity of that relationship and did my best to take what he meant to hurt me as a means to motivate me. As per usual, I'm not looking for any sympathy, just to explain why I am the way that I am.
Epiphany #1 of this week: Not everyone has the same experiences that made them an over-achiever like me. Not everyone is interested in being "the best" or even "their own best."
Seriously, it's such a foreign concept to me that I talked to every friend and family member that I could think of about it, because it made NO sense to me. I know that not everyone has had experiences like me, but isn't the desire to win something that is inherent?! Apparently not.
So, I've done A LOT of thinking (because that's what I do). I took a step back to figure out why it bothered me so much. Here's what it boils down to: my perception of people who underachieve (and are AWARE that they underachieve and are CAPABLE of greater potential) are apathetic. What is one of the things that sends me over the edge the fastest? Apathy.
Why? Because if everyone gave a damn, this world would be a better place. They wouldn't even have to care THAT much. But imagine a world where EVERYONE cared A LOT. Imagine how different our world would be! People who cared about other people, the environment, animals, etc. would revolutionize the face of this earth.
So, when people KNOWINGLY underachieve, it sends me to a dark place. Quite literally, despair is one of the first emotions that comes to mind. Equal to my desire to succeed is my desire to make a difference in this world. I know that I know that I can't do this alone. I have a love-hate relationship with interdependence for that reason.
Epiphany #2: People who underachieve aren't necessarily apathetic, but maybe they are just so overwhelmed with themselves that they can't deal with anything else. Okay, so that brings me back to my initial problem: understanding people and what motivates them-- in hopes to motivate them.
Usually, by the end of a blog post, I have mostly wrapped it up with a satisfying conclusion and some charge of optimism. Well, this post isn't quite like that. I don't necessarily feel ANY closer to understanding people or what motivates them.
What this post has taught me is that I need a wisdom that supersedes my own. My experience has also taught me that the harder I try to do something is usually the worse it ends up. So, I'm laying down my frustration, confusion, and helplessness down at the feet of Jesus. It's the only thing that seems to make sense in the midst of all of this. I'm not optimistic that I can be successful in figuring all of this out, but I do trust the One who can. And that is what brings me peace. Please join me in praying for the patience, compassion, and empathy needed to help people. Thanks, friends.
I've talked about this over and over again this past month about being outside of my comfort zone in pursuit of success in my life.
The desire to succeed (or to win) is something that has always been a strong motivator in my life. Anyways, in my line of business, I am learning that I have to reframe the means that I am using to get to the end. It means that I am learning how to work with people and understand what motivates them.
Let me tell you, that is no easy task. In fact, I'd say that it down right sucks. Haha. Seriously though, I've spent the better part of the week feeling frustrated because people confuse me so much.
In my graduate studies, I got used to by-passing people who weren't over-achievers like me. If they didn't keep up, they got left behind. Right, wrong, or indifferent, that was just reality. And group projects, don't even get me started. I know that that is something that we were constantly made to do, but within the time constraints of a quarter, I doubt we ever successfully figured out what it meant to work as a group.
I don't think it was my school's fault. It was due to 2 things: 1. Time constraints; 2. My (and/or our) desire to not "fail." (Which I rediscovered this week is really the root of my motivation.) Sure, I never got a bad grade on a group project, but do you know why? Because I usually ending up doing the lion's share of the work. Did it frustrate me? Yes. But did it stop me from doing what it took to get a good grade? Nope.
My desire not to fail is so deeply ingrained in me is something that I didn't realize until recently that not everyone has that. Where does it come from? As cliche as it sounds, it came from a rough upbringing. Yeah, it's the age-old story of having a poor relationship with my dad. I just took the negativity of that relationship and did my best to take what he meant to hurt me as a means to motivate me. As per usual, I'm not looking for any sympathy, just to explain why I am the way that I am.
Epiphany #1 of this week: Not everyone has the same experiences that made them an over-achiever like me. Not everyone is interested in being "the best" or even "their own best."
Seriously, it's such a foreign concept to me that I talked to every friend and family member that I could think of about it, because it made NO sense to me. I know that not everyone has had experiences like me, but isn't the desire to win something that is inherent?! Apparently not.
So, I've done A LOT of thinking (because that's what I do). I took a step back to figure out why it bothered me so much. Here's what it boils down to: my perception of people who underachieve (and are AWARE that they underachieve and are CAPABLE of greater potential) are apathetic. What is one of the things that sends me over the edge the fastest? Apathy.
Why? Because if everyone gave a damn, this world would be a better place. They wouldn't even have to care THAT much. But imagine a world where EVERYONE cared A LOT. Imagine how different our world would be! People who cared about other people, the environment, animals, etc. would revolutionize the face of this earth.
So, when people KNOWINGLY underachieve, it sends me to a dark place. Quite literally, despair is one of the first emotions that comes to mind. Equal to my desire to succeed is my desire to make a difference in this world. I know that I know that I can't do this alone. I have a love-hate relationship with interdependence for that reason.
Epiphany #2: People who underachieve aren't necessarily apathetic, but maybe they are just so overwhelmed with themselves that they can't deal with anything else. Okay, so that brings me back to my initial problem: understanding people and what motivates them-- in hopes to motivate them.
Usually, by the end of a blog post, I have mostly wrapped it up with a satisfying conclusion and some charge of optimism. Well, this post isn't quite like that. I don't necessarily feel ANY closer to understanding people or what motivates them.
What this post has taught me is that I need a wisdom that supersedes my own. My experience has also taught me that the harder I try to do something is usually the worse it ends up. So, I'm laying down my frustration, confusion, and helplessness down at the feet of Jesus. It's the only thing that seems to make sense in the midst of all of this. I'm not optimistic that I can be successful in figuring all of this out, but I do trust the One who can. And that is what brings me peace. Please join me in praying for the patience, compassion, and empathy needed to help people. Thanks, friends.
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Please Don't Waste My Time
People who are worth your time don't waste yours.
Let me tell you... That is easier said than done. This may come as a surprise to some, but I am a person who believes in second chances. Third chances... ninth chances. Seriously though, it's kind of sick. What can I say for myself?! I truly believe in redemption. Some people are hopeless romantics. I'm a hopeless redemptic. (Yup, I just made that word up.)
That being said, there's a point where it becomes masochistic though. And basically, it comes down to this: respect. If you respect my time, you respect me. Seems simple enough.
But more than that, it comes down to the fact that love is spelled: T-I-M-E. For anyone who is aware of the five love languages, my love language is definitely quality time. It's a way that I show love and receive it. It gives me joy to spend time with my friends, family, etc. I see time as an investment and a gift.
At a certain point though, you can give until it hurts and it's unhealthy. As I said in my last post, a life in transition is difficult. This is another one of those difficult parts about my life currently: learning how to invest my time wisely.
I was telling a friend tonight that I love spending time and investing in people. If someone is going to waste my time though, I feel frustrated-- because that is time that I could have used investing in someone else. Again, it's not that I mind making investments in people. When it comes down to it, I may say that a person is a "waste of time," but I don't truly believe that. Everyone is worth some time, but you have to be discerning about the amount of time you do invest.
I've recently been reading a book called, "The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People." The basic premise of the book is that we all have a lot more control over our lives than we often admit. It is an inside-out approach that centers on taking personal responsibility.
The bottom line: it is not other people's fault that they are wasting my time. It is my fault for allowing them and consenting to a misuse of my time. When I look at it that way, it is a little easier to not be as upset with others. If I am truthful with myself, I am more upset with myself rather than anyone else.
So, here we are. What do I do now? I can make a choice. If I am in the driver's seat of my own life, then it's time that I start acting like it. If people want to come along for the ride, they are more than welcome to. If not, I am not begging, pleading, or bending over backwards to help people who truly don't want my help.
Let me tell you... That is easier said than done. This may come as a surprise to some, but I am a person who believes in second chances. Third chances... ninth chances. Seriously though, it's kind of sick. What can I say for myself?! I truly believe in redemption. Some people are hopeless romantics. I'm a hopeless redemptic. (Yup, I just made that word up.)
That being said, there's a point where it becomes masochistic though. And basically, it comes down to this: respect. If you respect my time, you respect me. Seems simple enough.
But more than that, it comes down to the fact that love is spelled: T-I-M-E. For anyone who is aware of the five love languages, my love language is definitely quality time. It's a way that I show love and receive it. It gives me joy to spend time with my friends, family, etc. I see time as an investment and a gift.
At a certain point though, you can give until it hurts and it's unhealthy. As I said in my last post, a life in transition is difficult. This is another one of those difficult parts about my life currently: learning how to invest my time wisely.
I was telling a friend tonight that I love spending time and investing in people. If someone is going to waste my time though, I feel frustrated-- because that is time that I could have used investing in someone else. Again, it's not that I mind making investments in people. When it comes down to it, I may say that a person is a "waste of time," but I don't truly believe that. Everyone is worth some time, but you have to be discerning about the amount of time you do invest.
I've recently been reading a book called, "The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People." The basic premise of the book is that we all have a lot more control over our lives than we often admit. It is an inside-out approach that centers on taking personal responsibility.
The bottom line: it is not other people's fault that they are wasting my time. It is my fault for allowing them and consenting to a misuse of my time. When I look at it that way, it is a little easier to not be as upset with others. If I am truthful with myself, I am more upset with myself rather than anyone else.
So, here we are. What do I do now? I can make a choice. If I am in the driver's seat of my own life, then it's time that I start acting like it. If people want to come along for the ride, they are more than welcome to. If not, I am not begging, pleading, or bending over backwards to help people who truly don't want my help.
Realistically, all of that rigmarole is really not helping anyone... not them, and certainly, not me. "If you help enough people get what they want, you will get what you
want." That's what it's really all about at the end of the day. It's time to start helping people and letting go of the ones who don't want my help anyway. :)
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
A Life in Transition
I'm going to be honest. Life in transition is hard. There's always a variable of adjusting and readjusting with the end goal being more "balanced" or "centered" or whatever.
Last week was a hard week. As I was telling a friend tonight, I wasn't feeling 100% last week due to a couple of things going on. But beyond what was going on with me physically, it was really my spirit that took the hardest hit. I told my friend that I honestly felt like if I was still working at Disney that people would notice when I was MIA. Now that I am building a business, mainly from home, my fear is that I could have dropped off the face of the planet and NO ONE would know.
Okay, so I bet you're thinking... pity party, party of one. Yes, I know. I threw myself a minor pity party over the past couple of days but I'm feeling better today and I'll tell you why. First reason I felt better: Bible study. Wednesday nights are quickly becoming one of my favorite times of the week. More than any other place in my life, I feel like I can breathe deeply and let my hair down and be real. I can be Delia, the raw and unedited version-- and be completely accepted and feel safe. It's quite refreshing.
And two, I got nice notes from two friends today. One in the form of a message on FB thanking me for a note that I sent him and another in the form of a postcard sent from Chicago. It was just nice to be thought and to have something tangible to look at that says, "I care about you."
Thirdly, I talked to a friend tonight who I hadn't talked to in a while. I must admit: sometimes, I take it personally when friends get super busy in life and I don't hear from them in a while. Logically, I get it. We've all been there. Between going to or teaching at school, working multiple jobs, relationships with significant others, family, friends, etc., it's all a lot to balance. But sometimes, I need friends to check in on me to see how I'm doing. I'm a fairly independent person who doesn't usually ask for a lot of help and I tend to go out of my way to check on my friends, when I'm busy or not. But there's a certain point where I need someone to do that for me.
AND I was feeling frustrated tonight thinking about how I live in Diamond Bar, which is perfectly positioned between Pasadena and Orange County, but how most people don't come out the way that I live. So, I was thinking about that as I was driving home. Segueing back to that convo I was having with my friend, we were talking about when we can get together again next and she said something that really touched my heart. She offered to drive to Diamond Bar to meet up. WHAT?! It was like she knewwwww the conversation I was just having with myself!
So, that's where I am at.
I was telling another friend recently that I have more time for people now that I'm out of Disney, but that doesn't mean that people have more time for me. It's an odd place to be, but that is one of the major reasons why I made the decision to leave. People are important and life is short. Fostering and developing relationships requires time. And I know that I was not the sister, daughter, or friend that I wanted to be because I didn't have the time to invest in those relationships. Now, I have that time but no one else seems to.
I'm not going to lie. I've been a tad bit lonely and it has made me think back to the time when I came back from 4 month long internship in Tanzania. Back then I was not only out of touch with many of my friends, but I was dealing with reverse cultural shock. At least this time around, I knew kind of what to expect. It may take a while for me to get in a groove, but I know that I'll get there. God didn't call me out of one place without having a new place to bring me into. Here's to living and learning and rolling with the punches! :)
Last week was a hard week. As I was telling a friend tonight, I wasn't feeling 100% last week due to a couple of things going on. But beyond what was going on with me physically, it was really my spirit that took the hardest hit. I told my friend that I honestly felt like if I was still working at Disney that people would notice when I was MIA. Now that I am building a business, mainly from home, my fear is that I could have dropped off the face of the planet and NO ONE would know.
Okay, so I bet you're thinking... pity party, party of one. Yes, I know. I threw myself a minor pity party over the past couple of days but I'm feeling better today and I'll tell you why. First reason I felt better: Bible study. Wednesday nights are quickly becoming one of my favorite times of the week. More than any other place in my life, I feel like I can breathe deeply and let my hair down and be real. I can be Delia, the raw and unedited version-- and be completely accepted and feel safe. It's quite refreshing.
And two, I got nice notes from two friends today. One in the form of a message on FB thanking me for a note that I sent him and another in the form of a postcard sent from Chicago. It was just nice to be thought and to have something tangible to look at that says, "I care about you."
Thirdly, I talked to a friend tonight who I hadn't talked to in a while. I must admit: sometimes, I take it personally when friends get super busy in life and I don't hear from them in a while. Logically, I get it. We've all been there. Between going to or teaching at school, working multiple jobs, relationships with significant others, family, friends, etc., it's all a lot to balance. But sometimes, I need friends to check in on me to see how I'm doing. I'm a fairly independent person who doesn't usually ask for a lot of help and I tend to go out of my way to check on my friends, when I'm busy or not. But there's a certain point where I need someone to do that for me.
AND I was feeling frustrated tonight thinking about how I live in Diamond Bar, which is perfectly positioned between Pasadena and Orange County, but how most people don't come out the way that I live. So, I was thinking about that as I was driving home. Segueing back to that convo I was having with my friend, we were talking about when we can get together again next and she said something that really touched my heart. She offered to drive to Diamond Bar to meet up. WHAT?! It was like she knewwwww the conversation I was just having with myself!
So, that's where I am at.
I was telling another friend recently that I have more time for people now that I'm out of Disney, but that doesn't mean that people have more time for me. It's an odd place to be, but that is one of the major reasons why I made the decision to leave. People are important and life is short. Fostering and developing relationships requires time. And I know that I was not the sister, daughter, or friend that I wanted to be because I didn't have the time to invest in those relationships. Now, I have that time but no one else seems to.
I'm not going to lie. I've been a tad bit lonely and it has made me think back to the time when I came back from 4 month long internship in Tanzania. Back then I was not only out of touch with many of my friends, but I was dealing with reverse cultural shock. At least this time around, I knew kind of what to expect. It may take a while for me to get in a groove, but I know that I'll get there. God didn't call me out of one place without having a new place to bring me into. Here's to living and learning and rolling with the punches! :)
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Wandering in the Desert
As with anything, there is a learning curve involved with transitioning from one thing to the next. It has almost been a week since I have left my job to build my own business.
In one word, how would I sum up this week thus far?
Trust.
That may seem like an odd word, but let me explain. Leaving the stability and comfort of my job was a huge leap of faith. It was like stepping out of the proverbial boat and walking towards Jesus. It was not without tons of prayer that I made my decision to leave.
Like the Israelites who had been rescued out of Egypt, I felt a little bit like I had said, "Yes" to place of wandering around the desert. Don't get me wrong. I do not regret my decision to leave behind everything that Egypt represents. I have no doubt that the Promised Land is out there, but I would be lying to say that I knew the way to get there.
Wandering in the desert without a map means that you are trusting that someone else knows the way and is going to take you there. That's the best way I know how to describe it. I will say this though, "Not all those who wander are lost." I'm not going to pretend like I know the way though. But, I can tell you this: I am following the One who does. I feel deeply at peace about that. I trust that God has my best interests at heart. That doesn't mean that faith hasn't come without its tests though.
God has been shaking me up a bit lately and today was no exception. For some reason, I made a Disney reference in my mind and I was shaking my head at myself for it. "I can't help it. Disney is in my blood" is what I thought in defense to myself.
Then, out of nowhere, a heard a voice whisper, "Am I as much in your blood as Disney is?" Whoa. Hold the phone. I knew instantaneously that it was God, which is why I almost veered into the lane next to me. I honestly didn't see that coming. I was caught off guard!
Like a retracting rubber-band, I heard and felt the sting of reality *SNAP*. What has been my prayer recently?
a.) That my life would serve as proof to the goodness of God; b.) That God would get the glory from the success in my life.
Underlying that is the idea that everything that I do that I want to do it for the glory of God. (So much easier said than done, I might add.)
Yesterday, at Bible Study, we talked about this very issue. It is not uncommon for people's loyalty to be divided between God and the world. They desire a relationship with God while desiring the temporal things of this world as well (such as success, money, fame, etc.). It's so easy to get enticed by the things of this world and to neglect things that have eternal significance, because eternity seems so far off. But really, it's not. I sure would hate to get to the end of my life and realize that I was about things that didn't matter.
That's a large part why I quit my job. I hated sacrificing my family for a job. I hated feeling like I was wasting my God-given talents. I felt like I was trading in financial stability in for living a life of passion for God. I felt muzzled, caged, and shackled from unleashing my God-given potential to love and serve people. It was ugly. I felt ugly. It was just bad.
With building my business, a new set of challenges have presented themselves. Mainly, who is going to get the credit for my success? The question isn't whether or not I am going to be successful, because I know that I will be. The question is whether or not my heart is in the right place and I will give credit where credit is due.
So, let this blog post serve as a reminder to myself and others that I am, first and foremost, in the business of trust. I pray that God continually shapes my heart and prepares me for the impending success, because I would hate to "get to the top" and realize that I left God behind.
Success, I could take it or leave it. Life without God, I could not think of any worse death sentence. No, thanks.
In one word, how would I sum up this week thus far?
Trust.
That may seem like an odd word, but let me explain. Leaving the stability and comfort of my job was a huge leap of faith. It was like stepping out of the proverbial boat and walking towards Jesus. It was not without tons of prayer that I made my decision to leave.
Like the Israelites who had been rescued out of Egypt, I felt a little bit like I had said, "Yes" to place of wandering around the desert. Don't get me wrong. I do not regret my decision to leave behind everything that Egypt represents. I have no doubt that the Promised Land is out there, but I would be lying to say that I knew the way to get there.
Wandering in the desert without a map means that you are trusting that someone else knows the way and is going to take you there. That's the best way I know how to describe it. I will say this though, "Not all those who wander are lost." I'm not going to pretend like I know the way though. But, I can tell you this: I am following the One who does. I feel deeply at peace about that. I trust that God has my best interests at heart. That doesn't mean that faith hasn't come without its tests though.
God has been shaking me up a bit lately and today was no exception. For some reason, I made a Disney reference in my mind and I was shaking my head at myself for it. "I can't help it. Disney is in my blood" is what I thought in defense to myself.
Then, out of nowhere, a heard a voice whisper, "Am I as much in your blood as Disney is?" Whoa. Hold the phone. I knew instantaneously that it was God, which is why I almost veered into the lane next to me. I honestly didn't see that coming. I was caught off guard!
Like a retracting rubber-band, I heard and felt the sting of reality *SNAP*. What has been my prayer recently?
a.) That my life would serve as proof to the goodness of God; b.) That God would get the glory from the success in my life.
Underlying that is the idea that everything that I do that I want to do it for the glory of God. (So much easier said than done, I might add.)
Yesterday, at Bible Study, we talked about this very issue. It is not uncommon for people's loyalty to be divided between God and the world. They desire a relationship with God while desiring the temporal things of this world as well (such as success, money, fame, etc.). It's so easy to get enticed by the things of this world and to neglect things that have eternal significance, because eternity seems so far off. But really, it's not. I sure would hate to get to the end of my life and realize that I was about things that didn't matter.
That's a large part why I quit my job. I hated sacrificing my family for a job. I hated feeling like I was wasting my God-given talents. I felt like I was trading in financial stability in for living a life of passion for God. I felt muzzled, caged, and shackled from unleashing my God-given potential to love and serve people. It was ugly. I felt ugly. It was just bad.
With building my business, a new set of challenges have presented themselves. Mainly, who is going to get the credit for my success? The question isn't whether or not I am going to be successful, because I know that I will be. The question is whether or not my heart is in the right place and I will give credit where credit is due.
So, let this blog post serve as a reminder to myself and others that I am, first and foremost, in the business of trust. I pray that God continually shapes my heart and prepares me for the impending success, because I would hate to "get to the top" and realize that I left God behind.
Success, I could take it or leave it. Life without God, I could not think of any worse death sentence. No, thanks.
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
A Month of New Beginnings
I cannot even begin to tell you how much weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Recently, at least up until today, I lived most days with a gnawing feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach and a crushing weight on my chest, but 2012 has been a year of resolution for me. Resolution for what? To give up the negativity and to fight and claw my way to health and well-being.
It has been quite the fight. I feel like my hands are bloodied from the fight, but I am alive and I haven't given up. And, tonight, I'm feeling better than alive. This year has been a year of many firsts. It started out with physical firsts. The by-product of those physical firsts was emotional firsts. Then, there were spiritual firsts which led to more emotional firsts. It's really is amazing how body, mind, and spirit are so interconnected and interdependent.
For a long time, I had been feeling fragmented and disjointed. It was a like all the pieces within me just didn't quite fit right. Something was wrong and I couldn't quite figure out how to reconcile the fragments of myself to one another. More than that, so many things in my life felt so unresolved, open-ended, and unreconciled. Too many loose ends left me literally feeling frayed.
I won't go into too much detail more than that because it's all too much to catalog here. Plus, at this point, I don't want you to get lost in the details. What I do want you to know is that I feel well for the first time in a long time. I'm still in a process of healing and growing stronger everyday, but today, right now, I feel the strongest (physically, emotionally, and spiritually) that I've ever felt in my life. And, quite frankly, I'd love to scream that from a mountaintop, but Big Bear is too far to drive at the moment. So, this blog will have to suffice.
The lyrics to a Matchbox 20 song come to mind right now, because "Unwell" was exactly how I have been feeling for a long time.
"I'm feeling like I'm headed for a
Breakdown
I don't know why
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell
I know, right now you can't tell
But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see
A different side of me
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little impaired
I know, right now you don't care
But soon enough you're gonna think of me
And how I used to be
Me"
In many ways, I have felt crippled. I was becoming more of someone whom I didn't want to become and I was feeling like I had little control to change it. The truth is that I did have some control to change it, but the other part of it was learning to relinquish control to God.
"I love how fitness and spirituality parallel in so many ways. What God showed me today:
When I work out daily, I can't see the immediate progress. It can be discouraging because I want to see that change. If I look back at a month or 6 months or a year ago, though, I can see the incredible difference in my health.
The same is with our spiritual lives. When I commit to diving into God's Word and praying everyday, most times, I don't see the benefit from that right away. However, God gives us hindsight glimpses now and then. When He shows us how far we have come, it is THEN that we can see that He is making a change in our lives!"
It has been quite the fight. I feel like my hands are bloodied from the fight, but I am alive and I haven't given up. And, tonight, I'm feeling better than alive. This year has been a year of many firsts. It started out with physical firsts. The by-product of those physical firsts was emotional firsts. Then, there were spiritual firsts which led to more emotional firsts. It's really is amazing how body, mind, and spirit are so interconnected and interdependent.
For a long time, I had been feeling fragmented and disjointed. It was a like all the pieces within me just didn't quite fit right. Something was wrong and I couldn't quite figure out how to reconcile the fragments of myself to one another. More than that, so many things in my life felt so unresolved, open-ended, and unreconciled. Too many loose ends left me literally feeling frayed.
I won't go into too much detail more than that because it's all too much to catalog here. Plus, at this point, I don't want you to get lost in the details. What I do want you to know is that I feel well for the first time in a long time. I'm still in a process of healing and growing stronger everyday, but today, right now, I feel the strongest (physically, emotionally, and spiritually) that I've ever felt in my life. And, quite frankly, I'd love to scream that from a mountaintop, but Big Bear is too far to drive at the moment. So, this blog will have to suffice.
The lyrics to a Matchbox 20 song come to mind right now, because "Unwell" was exactly how I have been feeling for a long time.
"I'm feeling like I'm headed for a
Breakdown
I don't know why
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell
I know, right now you can't tell
But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see
A different side of me
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little impaired
I know, right now you don't care
But soon enough you're gonna think of me
And how I used to be
Me"
In many ways, I have felt crippled. I was becoming more of someone whom I didn't want to become and I was feeling like I had little control to change it. The truth is that I did have some control to change it, but the other part of it was learning to relinquish control to God.
A friend of mine, Andrea, wrote this the other day and it has stuck with me ever since:
"I love how fitness and spirituality parallel in so many ways. What God showed me today:
When I work out daily, I can't see the immediate progress. It can be discouraging because I want to see that change. If I look back at a month or 6 months or a year ago, though, I can see the incredible difference in my health.
The same is with our spiritual lives. When I commit to diving into God's Word and praying everyday, most times, I don't see the benefit from that right away. However, God gives us hindsight glimpses now and then. When He shows us how far we have come, it is THEN that we can see that He is making a change in our lives!"
I believe that to be absolutely true in my life. Four weeks ago, Pastor Phil encouraged me to commit to spending just 30 minutes a day reading my Bible. Seems simple enough-- and to some degree, it was. On the other hand, I had to figure out a consistent time that worked best for me and to commit to not skipping that time with God. I was determined to not give up, despite the times when I was literally falling asleep on my Bible. (It was not because I was bored, but because I like to read before bed, which is usually after a very long day.) Nothing comes easy and I definitely felt like I was fighting a war. Not only was it a war within myself that comes from establishing a new habit, but it was also a war against the forces of darkness that wanted to impede in this process.
All of that to say, this habit (like working out) is here to stay. Because of the time I've been spending with God, I've had the strength and peace of mind to have several uncomfortable (yet, entirely necessary) conversations with people in my life. I was able to lay down my pride, the hurt I had been feeling, and the fear of the outcome of the conversations and to walk towards healing and reconciliation. Wow, what a week it has been!
And it all comes down to this:
"Religion says, 'Change your behavior & it'll change your heart,' but Jesus says, 'Let
me change your heart & your behavior will change.'" (Jefferson Bethke, the "Why I Hate Religion, but Love Jesus" guy)
There are some impeding changes coming up in my life. If I'm honest with you, I am excited and equally as terrified for this next season of life. I have the nausea that comes with stepping out in faith. I've been riding with training wheels on my spiritual bike for the past two years and now it is time to take them off and ride towards my Heavenly Father. I know that as long as I keep my eyes on Him and not lose focus that I will be okay. The ride may start out shaky, but I have no doubt that I will gain balance and steady myself as I ride towards Him.
It's going to be a good ride, I can tell already. So, here's to a ride of a lifetime and no looking back. Stay tuned, folks, because it's going to be good! :)
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
I Am Not An Object
Today, I reached a breaking point. To be honest, I've really been struggling for a while now and until today, I didn't even have the language to put into words what I have been feeling. Ask me what I think about anything and *BOOM* I can ramble on for days. Ask me how I'm feeling and suddenly, I'm lost. The crux of the issue at hand was trying to figure out how to navigate the unwanted negative attention that I've been getting since losing weight.
Any attention is good attention, right?! Wrong. I am here to testify that that is not the case entirely. I am the same type of person who doesn't believe any publicity is good publicity, not when honor and integrity are at stake.
I must admit that I've been really struggling with feelings of shame and guilt due to the unwanted sexual advances and harassment that I've experienced, which is one of the reasons why I have been mostly silent about it. I felt like there must be something that I was putting out into the world that made men respond in such demoralizing and demeaning ways. By and large, I felt like I was to blame.
Um, ladies, it took me this long to realize that that is a LIE straight from the pit of hell. Perhaps, the "modest is hottest" campaigns had its unintentional adverse implications. It took me a while to realize that it puts the majority of the responsibility of a man's lack of self-control onto women's shoulders. Their logic is as follows: women are to dress in ways as to not cause our "brothers" to stumble. So, basically, it's our fault if they act like dogs. I'm sure they wouldn't endorse the idea that immodestly dressed women are "asking" to be harassed or worse, but it seems to be going down that train of thought. Although that may not have been the intention of those campaigns, that subliminal message has always stuck with me.
Over the past couple of months (and increasingly over the past couple of weeks), I have silently "endured" disrespect from men. This has included unwanted touching/massages as well as harassing jokes and remarks. I have allowed men to touch and/or talk to me in ways that are not appropriate and have made me feel incredibly uncomfortable. The worst part: I didn't know how to respond or where to turn to.
Not that this is an excuse, but you have to understand, I've always been the "smart girl." The one that people like doing group projects with because they know that we're going to get an "A." Or the girl that guys talk to when they are looking for intellectual stimulation. Usually, guys want to pick my brain, not pick me up for a date. You get the idea. So, the amount of recent attention that I've been getting is a completely different ball game and foreign to me. It wouldn't be fair to say that I'm out of practice, because I've never even played the game before.
I am not saying any of this to make you feel bad for me. I actually kind of liked it that way. Things were less complicated and I didn't have to worry about hurting anyone's feelings. I could fly under the radar, which was fine with me.
Fast-forwarding to current times, I remained silent about these situations for several reasons. One reason, I felt like no one wanted to hear a girl complain about how guys are suddenly noticing her (even if it is negative attention). Shouldn't I just be grateful to be noticed at all? Also, I felt like no one would believe me. As strong, outspoken, and independent as I am, I felt like no one would believe that something like that could happen to me. Hell, even I couldn't believe that it was happening to me! But as we all know, denial doesn't do us any service. Lastly, I was afraid to ask for help. I was scared and I didn't know who would be able to help me.
All of that to be said, I know that if any guy every acted in the ways that several men have been acting towards me to my sister, I would be in jail right now. I'd be there for assault, if not worse. I would have kicked someone's ass for even looking at my sister cross-eyed. (And I still would today, without batting an eye.) So, why has it taken me so long to figure out that I am someone worth fighting for? Why is it that I'm always willing to work and fight harder on someone else's behalf?
I think the answer is simple: low self-esteem. I had hoped to raise my self-esteem throughout this whole process of working out, eating right, etc. I do believe that I did that to a certain degree. Yet, when these recent situations occurred, it felt like an assault on my heart and all of the hard work that I had accomplished. My friend, Candice, told me, "You have worked too hard and for too long to feel good about yourself to just turn around and let these men take it away from you. It has to STOP."
She is right. She spoke truth over me that I wasn't able to speak over myself. She helped me to realize the strength I had to fight all along. I AM someone worth fighting for. I AM someone worth defending. I AM someone worthy of respect, dignity, and love. I AM more than just a pretty face or fit body. I am a beautiful woman, mind, body, and soul. Someone to be cherished, not to be cheapened. I am person, not an object.
So, the disrespect ends today. The disrespect from myself and from those poor excuses of men. I've allowed people to treat me poorly for too long now. I've got to hold my head up high and to walk with the God-given grace within me. I am officially done throwing myself a pity party and feeling sorry for myself. Now, is the time to be proud of myself for both who I am and what I've accomplished. This freight train is unstoppable. So, men, I suggest that if you can't get on board with the program, you get the hell out of my way.
Any attention is good attention, right?! Wrong. I am here to testify that that is not the case entirely. I am the same type of person who doesn't believe any publicity is good publicity, not when honor and integrity are at stake.
I must admit that I've been really struggling with feelings of shame and guilt due to the unwanted sexual advances and harassment that I've experienced, which is one of the reasons why I have been mostly silent about it. I felt like there must be something that I was putting out into the world that made men respond in such demoralizing and demeaning ways. By and large, I felt like I was to blame.
Um, ladies, it took me this long to realize that that is a LIE straight from the pit of hell. Perhaps, the "modest is hottest" campaigns had its unintentional adverse implications. It took me a while to realize that it puts the majority of the responsibility of a man's lack of self-control onto women's shoulders. Their logic is as follows: women are to dress in ways as to not cause our "brothers" to stumble. So, basically, it's our fault if they act like dogs. I'm sure they wouldn't endorse the idea that immodestly dressed women are "asking" to be harassed or worse, but it seems to be going down that train of thought. Although that may not have been the intention of those campaigns, that subliminal message has always stuck with me.
Over the past couple of months (and increasingly over the past couple of weeks), I have silently "endured" disrespect from men. This has included unwanted touching/massages as well as harassing jokes and remarks. I have allowed men to touch and/or talk to me in ways that are not appropriate and have made me feel incredibly uncomfortable. The worst part: I didn't know how to respond or where to turn to.
Not that this is an excuse, but you have to understand, I've always been the "smart girl." The one that people like doing group projects with because they know that we're going to get an "A." Or the girl that guys talk to when they are looking for intellectual stimulation. Usually, guys want to pick my brain, not pick me up for a date. You get the idea. So, the amount of recent attention that I've been getting is a completely different ball game and foreign to me. It wouldn't be fair to say that I'm out of practice, because I've never even played the game before.
I am not saying any of this to make you feel bad for me. I actually kind of liked it that way. Things were less complicated and I didn't have to worry about hurting anyone's feelings. I could fly under the radar, which was fine with me.
Fast-forwarding to current times, I remained silent about these situations for several reasons. One reason, I felt like no one wanted to hear a girl complain about how guys are suddenly noticing her (even if it is negative attention). Shouldn't I just be grateful to be noticed at all? Also, I felt like no one would believe me. As strong, outspoken, and independent as I am, I felt like no one would believe that something like that could happen to me. Hell, even I couldn't believe that it was happening to me! But as we all know, denial doesn't do us any service. Lastly, I was afraid to ask for help. I was scared and I didn't know who would be able to help me.
All of that to be said, I know that if any guy every acted in the ways that several men have been acting towards me to my sister, I would be in jail right now. I'd be there for assault, if not worse. I would have kicked someone's ass for even looking at my sister cross-eyed. (And I still would today, without batting an eye.) So, why has it taken me so long to figure out that I am someone worth fighting for? Why is it that I'm always willing to work and fight harder on someone else's behalf?
I think the answer is simple: low self-esteem. I had hoped to raise my self-esteem throughout this whole process of working out, eating right, etc. I do believe that I did that to a certain degree. Yet, when these recent situations occurred, it felt like an assault on my heart and all of the hard work that I had accomplished. My friend, Candice, told me, "You have worked too hard and for too long to feel good about yourself to just turn around and let these men take it away from you. It has to STOP."
She is right. She spoke truth over me that I wasn't able to speak over myself. She helped me to realize the strength I had to fight all along. I AM someone worth fighting for. I AM someone worth defending. I AM someone worthy of respect, dignity, and love. I AM more than just a pretty face or fit body. I am a beautiful woman, mind, body, and soul. Someone to be cherished, not to be cheapened. I am person, not an object.
So, the disrespect ends today. The disrespect from myself and from those poor excuses of men. I've allowed people to treat me poorly for too long now. I've got to hold my head up high and to walk with the God-given grace within me. I am officially done throwing myself a pity party and feeling sorry for myself. Now, is the time to be proud of myself for both who I am and what I've accomplished. This freight train is unstoppable. So, men, I suggest that if you can't get on board with the program, you get the hell out of my way.
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
I am a Christian.
This morning, I was planning on blogging tonight about the whole Chick-Fil-A controversy. As the day progressed, this blog post began to take on new life in my head though. I don't plan on going into great depth about the Chick-Fil-A issue but I will say this: by and large, my issue isn't really with Chick-Fil-A per se. That franchise is more the scapegoat for my other frustrations.
It wasn't until later in the day that I realized that my disgruntlement was much bigger than this single issue. It really has more to do with how poorly American Christians represent themselves in so many ways; Chick-Fil-A happened to be just one example.
The real heart of the issue is that I am truly embarrassed to my core and feel such shame over the way that Christians (on both sides of the issue) have behaved lately. Not just about this issue, but about so many others as well. There have been so many times in my life when I have wanted to run into a cave and hide to avoid any kind of association with Christians. When I got out of bed this morning, that is how a felt once again.
It made me think back to the days when I was growing up and I lived with one of the most bigoted, intolerant, unkind, angry persons I had ever known. He called himself a Christian (and I am not saying that he is not) but I definitely did not want to be the type of Christian he was. Ever since then, I feel like I have been running away from people who even remotely remind me of him. Avoidance, however, is not the answer either. Rather than continuing to run away, I feel like I need to speak up.
I am a Christian.
I, like many of my seminary friends, have a love/relationship with that word. It is such a loaded word. Heck, I even get queasy committing to using that term on my Facebook under the "religion" section of my profile. I do believe that Christians are increasingly persecuted in this country. However, I do think that it is not without reason that non-Christian people have an adverse reaction to us.
I also think that it's time that we take responsibility for ourselves. I've been doing a lot of reading in the Old Testament lately. And do you know what I've found? What Christians should be for. A lot of times, we know what Christians are against. They're against this and that. Translation: we can seem hateful, angry, and mighty judgmental. (I say "we" because I easily fall into these traps as well.)
But what are we supposed to be about? What are we for?
Two themes have continued to resonate through my studies in Leviticus, Deuteronomy, and Isaiah-- and fancy that, they're two things that Jesus said:
1. Love God
"And now, Israel, what does the LORD your God ask of you but to fear the LORD your God, to walk in obedience to him, to love him, to serve the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and to observe the LORD's commands and decrees that I am giving you today for you own good?" (Deut. 10:12-13)
It wasn't until later in the day that I realized that my disgruntlement was much bigger than this single issue. It really has more to do with how poorly American Christians represent themselves in so many ways; Chick-Fil-A happened to be just one example.
The real heart of the issue is that I am truly embarrassed to my core and feel such shame over the way that Christians (on both sides of the issue) have behaved lately. Not just about this issue, but about so many others as well. There have been so many times in my life when I have wanted to run into a cave and hide to avoid any kind of association with Christians. When I got out of bed this morning, that is how a felt once again.
It made me think back to the days when I was growing up and I lived with one of the most bigoted, intolerant, unkind, angry persons I had ever known. He called himself a Christian (and I am not saying that he is not) but I definitely did not want to be the type of Christian he was. Ever since then, I feel like I have been running away from people who even remotely remind me of him. Avoidance, however, is not the answer either. Rather than continuing to run away, I feel like I need to speak up.
I am a Christian.
I, like many of my seminary friends, have a love/relationship with that word. It is such a loaded word. Heck, I even get queasy committing to using that term on my Facebook under the "religion" section of my profile. I do believe that Christians are increasingly persecuted in this country. However, I do think that it is not without reason that non-Christian people have an adverse reaction to us.
I also think that it's time that we take responsibility for ourselves. I've been doing a lot of reading in the Old Testament lately. And do you know what I've found? What Christians should be for. A lot of times, we know what Christians are against. They're against this and that. Translation: we can seem hateful, angry, and mighty judgmental. (I say "we" because I easily fall into these traps as well.)
But what are we supposed to be about? What are we for?
Two themes have continued to resonate through my studies in Leviticus, Deuteronomy, and Isaiah-- and fancy that, they're two things that Jesus said:
1. Love God
"And now, Israel, what does the LORD your God ask of you but to fear the LORD your God, to walk in obedience to him, to love him, to serve the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and to observe the LORD's commands and decrees that I am giving you today for you own good?" (Deut. 10:12-13)
2. Love people like you love yourself
"Do not seek revenge or
bear a grudge against anyone among your people, but
love your neighbor as yourself. I am
the Lord." (Leviticus 19:10)
"The
foreigner residing among you must be treated as your native-born. Love
them as yourself, for you were foreigners in
Egypt. I am the Lord your God." (Leviticus 19:34)
"[God] defends the cause
of the fatherless and the widow, and loves the foreigner
residing among you, giving them food and clothing. And you are to love
those who are foreigners, for you yourselves were foreigners in Egypt."
(Deut. 10:18-19)
"Learn to do
right! Seek justice, encourage the oppressed. Defend the
cause of the fatherless, plead the case of the widow."
(Isaiah 1:17)
Over and over again, I read about caring for the foreigner, the fatherless, and the widow. On the surface, that seems straightforward enough. Yet, I know that it's so much more than that.
The truth is that we are to be champions on behalf of those who are vulnerable and marginalized in society. We are not to be the ones making them vulnerable and marginalizing them. We are to be protectors, not perpetrators. Advocates, not abusers.
Now, I say all of this knowing that this is a tall order but it is what God has commanded those who love him to do. If we love God, we will do what God commands. Let me clear, I am not saying any of this to bash anyone over the head. Do I always succeed in loving God and loving others? No. Perhaps, it is because of my brokenness that I understand the need to be striving towards the goal. We must NEVER lose sight of the goal. We must NEVER give up fighting for what is right.
So, it is with great love and admonishment that I hope to encourage other Christians to join me in this fight. Let us join together to start a movement that changes this world for the better. Let us prove that love is what we are made of. Let it be more with our actions than our words that we really show this world what we stand for.
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Weight Loss and Dating
The content of this blog post is something that I've been ruminating over for the past couple of weeks. However, I think the culmination of it all reached its peak today.
Where shall I begin? Well, first thing is first. I am feeling annoyed. Annoyed about what? I'm annoyed that people keep asking about my dating life. What's so bad about that? Well, the question behind the questions seem to imply that since losing weight that I should have "no problem" getting a boyfriend. There I said it. It's offensive to me, on a number of levels.
First of all, I feel like I need to be clear: EVERY GIRL HAS THE EXACT LOVE LIFE THAT SHE WANTS. I heard that line from a movie once and it just stuck with me... because IT'S TRUE. If a girl argues with you and says that it's not true, it's because she hasn't done some serious soul searching to figure out what it is that is keeping her from having the love life she wants.
Secondly, losing weight doesn't automatically make you more or less eligible for dating. Before I lost weight, I went on dates with guys. Mind you, it wasn't often. But, that's why my friends call me picky or tell me that I have "high standards." I got a couple of good stories out of those experiences, but I digress. I could be 50 lbs or even a 100 lbs heavier than I am now and I'm sure that I wouldn't have a problem finding someone to date. If anyone said that I couldn't, you know that I would start dating guys just to spite everyone. (Kidding! ....Kinda.)
But above all, I think what I resent most about the assumption that I'm "finally ready to date" since losing weight is that I am essentially the same person that I was 25 lbs ago. Fundamentally, who I am, who I want to be, and where I am going is all the same. C.S. Lewis said it best, "You don't have a soul. You are a soul. You have a body." I have this body that I was given and I'm learning how to treat it with the respect that it deserves. Our bodies are the temple of the Spirit, after all. Again, I digress. The reason why I date or don't date has nothing to do with my weight. Period.
The bottom line is that I am not opposed to dating, but what I am opposed to is the implicit increase of value that is placed on a woman once she is dating someone. We don't live in the old days or in a traditional culture where a good dowry is something to be desired. Am I worth more cows than that other girl? Don't know. Don't care. I have never defined myself in those terms or in regards to my relationship with a man. Again, never have. Never will. I am and will continue to be Delia. She has a unique purpose of her own and she was placed onto this planet to do some good. If a guy wants to come along for the ride, he is more than welcome to. But, even if worse comes to worst and no guy wants to journey along with me, it is NOT the end of the world.
Some people may find that to be sad or tragic, but what I find to be truly tragic is that there are sooooo women out there who derive their value from their relationships with men. I've known many of these women in my life. I've seen their heartache and it pains me that they find their worth in such unstable places. Ladies, if we are to love ourselves, that love has got to flow out from the One who is Love. The One who knit us together in our mothers' wombs and knows the number of hairs on our heads. Only God can love us as we were meant to be loved. Any other love beyond that pales in comparison, because it is the agape kind of love, not just the eros kind of love. It's an unconditional kind of love. And let's be real, why would we want to settle for anything less than the best?!
Where shall I begin? Well, first thing is first. I am feeling annoyed. Annoyed about what? I'm annoyed that people keep asking about my dating life. What's so bad about that? Well, the question behind the questions seem to imply that since losing weight that I should have "no problem" getting a boyfriend. There I said it. It's offensive to me, on a number of levels.
First of all, I feel like I need to be clear: EVERY GIRL HAS THE EXACT LOVE LIFE THAT SHE WANTS. I heard that line from a movie once and it just stuck with me... because IT'S TRUE. If a girl argues with you and says that it's not true, it's because she hasn't done some serious soul searching to figure out what it is that is keeping her from having the love life she wants.
Secondly, losing weight doesn't automatically make you more or less eligible for dating. Before I lost weight, I went on dates with guys. Mind you, it wasn't often. But, that's why my friends call me picky or tell me that I have "high standards." I got a couple of good stories out of those experiences, but I digress. I could be 50 lbs or even a 100 lbs heavier than I am now and I'm sure that I wouldn't have a problem finding someone to date. If anyone said that I couldn't, you know that I would start dating guys just to spite everyone. (Kidding! ....Kinda.)
But above all, I think what I resent most about the assumption that I'm "finally ready to date" since losing weight is that I am essentially the same person that I was 25 lbs ago. Fundamentally, who I am, who I want to be, and where I am going is all the same. C.S. Lewis said it best, "You don't have a soul. You are a soul. You have a body." I have this body that I was given and I'm learning how to treat it with the respect that it deserves. Our bodies are the temple of the Spirit, after all. Again, I digress. The reason why I date or don't date has nothing to do with my weight. Period.
The bottom line is that I am not opposed to dating, but what I am opposed to is the implicit increase of value that is placed on a woman once she is dating someone. We don't live in the old days or in a traditional culture where a good dowry is something to be desired. Am I worth more cows than that other girl? Don't know. Don't care. I have never defined myself in those terms or in regards to my relationship with a man. Again, never have. Never will. I am and will continue to be Delia. She has a unique purpose of her own and she was placed onto this planet to do some good. If a guy wants to come along for the ride, he is more than welcome to. But, even if worse comes to worst and no guy wants to journey along with me, it is NOT the end of the world.
Some people may find that to be sad or tragic, but what I find to be truly tragic is that there are sooooo women out there who derive their value from their relationships with men. I've known many of these women in my life. I've seen their heartache and it pains me that they find their worth in such unstable places. Ladies, if we are to love ourselves, that love has got to flow out from the One who is Love. The One who knit us together in our mothers' wombs and knows the number of hairs on our heads. Only God can love us as we were meant to be loved. Any other love beyond that pales in comparison, because it is the agape kind of love, not just the eros kind of love. It's an unconditional kind of love. And let's be real, why would we want to settle for anything less than the best?!
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Laundry and Life
With my grandparents being out of town, it has given me a lot of time to think. Today, I was doing laundry and thinking about how long it was taking to get 5 loads done. Considering the fact that I hadn't washed clothes all week, I realized that I was actually doing pretty well. Then I remembered back to when I used to live with 5 other people and how much laundry there was all of the time. My (step)dad had a rule that you could never wash just your clothes and that my brother and I should be doing at least two loads of laundry a day. As someone who was very busy as a child, that was an almost impossible
task (either running from church function to church function or school event or wherever... any excuse to be running from him).
I remember feeling so overwhelmed and thinking how miserable having a family of my own would be one day. Who thinks of those things as a child?! I've always been told that I have an old soul and I think that part of that was a necessity (a survival mechanism). But I would be in denial if I did not acknowledge that there were repercussions for being old before my time. One of these repercussions was that my outlook on life was quite bleak. Sure, I put on a happy face and faked it with the best of them. The expectation was that I would never let anyone see me sweat. I was to be "super woman" as my dad put it. Factor in my own struggle with perfectionism and I was a mess. The reality was that I wasn't happy. Yes, I experienced moments of happiness but happiness was definitely not a state of being.
So, as I was doing my own laundry today and thanking God that it only took 5 loads to finish all of MY own clothes, I began to realize how my world has changed. Two years ago, my parents started getting a divorce. It was awful. If I thought things were bad before, they seemed to get way worse after that. I had always fantasized as a child that my parents would get a divorce and that all would be well. In the past two years, I've often thought, "Well, at least half of the fantasy came true."
But that's just it... all isn't as I would have envisioned it, but I have to admit that I feel like I'm in a much better place and things are starting to feel well in ways that they were never felt before. For the first time in my life, I feel like I've been set free from the bondage that was my childhood. I think it took some time for me to believe that I was really free and that we were never going back... and that I could, in fact, be happy. Over the past two years, those beliefs have been growing into conviction.
This past week or so has been amazing in the fact that I have learned a lot about myself. I've learned that I need to give myself permission to have fun, be happy, and to be successful. For some reason, I have felt like I couldn't go on with my own life, because I didn't want to leave my family behind. That may sound weird, but as warped as my family was/is, they are still my family and I love them. With that came a warped sense of love as well, I now know that I must go on to be healthy, happy, and successful. It is as much for them as it is for me.
Foolishly (and counter-intuitively), I have felt like holding myself back was the answer. But the more I think about it, that doesn't help anyone. In fact, the only person I seem to be hurting the worst is myself. If my family is to ever be well, I must get well first. I cannot and will not carry the burden of fixing them myself, because I cannot and should not.
There is freedom in those words. A freedom like I have never felt before. And peace. It's been a long journey and I'm sure that it is far from over, but I think I've finally ready to give to God what is God's and to walk away with peace in my heart.
When the times is right, I am confident that we will all be together again one day. But in the mean time, as Henry David Thoreau put it, I must "go confidently in the direction of [my] dreams [and] live the life [I've] imagined!"
I remember feeling so overwhelmed and thinking how miserable having a family of my own would be one day. Who thinks of those things as a child?! I've always been told that I have an old soul and I think that part of that was a necessity (a survival mechanism). But I would be in denial if I did not acknowledge that there were repercussions for being old before my time. One of these repercussions was that my outlook on life was quite bleak. Sure, I put on a happy face and faked it with the best of them. The expectation was that I would never let anyone see me sweat. I was to be "super woman" as my dad put it. Factor in my own struggle with perfectionism and I was a mess. The reality was that I wasn't happy. Yes, I experienced moments of happiness but happiness was definitely not a state of being.
So, as I was doing my own laundry today and thanking God that it only took 5 loads to finish all of MY own clothes, I began to realize how my world has changed. Two years ago, my parents started getting a divorce. It was awful. If I thought things were bad before, they seemed to get way worse after that. I had always fantasized as a child that my parents would get a divorce and that all would be well. In the past two years, I've often thought, "Well, at least half of the fantasy came true."
But that's just it... all isn't as I would have envisioned it, but I have to admit that I feel like I'm in a much better place and things are starting to feel well in ways that they were never felt before. For the first time in my life, I feel like I've been set free from the bondage that was my childhood. I think it took some time for me to believe that I was really free and that we were never going back... and that I could, in fact, be happy. Over the past two years, those beliefs have been growing into conviction.
This past week or so has been amazing in the fact that I have learned a lot about myself. I've learned that I need to give myself permission to have fun, be happy, and to be successful. For some reason, I have felt like I couldn't go on with my own life, because I didn't want to leave my family behind. That may sound weird, but as warped as my family was/is, they are still my family and I love them. With that came a warped sense of love as well, I now know that I must go on to be healthy, happy, and successful. It is as much for them as it is for me.
Foolishly (and counter-intuitively), I have felt like holding myself back was the answer. But the more I think about it, that doesn't help anyone. In fact, the only person I seem to be hurting the worst is myself. If my family is to ever be well, I must get well first. I cannot and will not carry the burden of fixing them myself, because I cannot and should not.
There is freedom in those words. A freedom like I have never felt before. And peace. It's been a long journey and I'm sure that it is far from over, but I think I've finally ready to give to God what is God's and to walk away with peace in my heart.
When the times is right, I am confident that we will all be together again one day. But in the mean time, as Henry David Thoreau put it, I must "go confidently in the direction of [my] dreams [and] live the life [I've] imagined!"
Thursday, April 26, 2012
The past shapes us but it doesn't have to define us.
The further I get from childhood the more I realize how dysfunctional it was. This realization has been something that I've been mulling over a lot lately in both my waking and sleeping hours.
The other day I was complaining about how jumpy I was at work. I got to thinking about it and why I'm so easily startled. I think that it started when I was young and has continued to be reinforced by life circumstances. But I wanted to get to its source, so I feel like I have to go back to the beginning.
Growing up, my (step)dad was not particularly kind to me. That's putting it lightly. I'm not really interested in rehashing ALL of what that means, because I don't really believe it serves any particular purpose. For the purpose of this argument, I'm trying to draw the connection between my jumpiness as an adult to my dad's actions when I was a kid. He used to take some sort of sick pleasure in sneaking up on me and startling me. He found it funny. Because I think he knew how afraid I was of him, I think that it was cruel. It's like he enjoyed seeing the fear and uncertainty in my eyes. When I think too deeply about it, it chills my blood. I know that it left me feeling really insecure growing up.
Not only was I insecure as a child, but I was also deeply ashamed about who I was. Let me back up a little bit to give you the backdrop to that statement. When I came home today, I found a bag of childhood items on my dresser. In it, I found a dove pin. Initially, I was happy to see it again, because I always loved that pin. Then, I remembered what I had to wear that pin for: to pin a laminated piece of paper to my underwear. The piece of paper read, "Humility." My dad felt that I had issues with arrogance and needed to be humble. As punishment, he told me that I had to pin that paper to my underwear to remind me to be more humble. Even writing this out, it seems unbelievable that it was something I had to do. In hindsight, I think his only goal was humiliation, not humility. And it worked, because I not only felt ashamed but also confused.
If I sit here long enough, I'm sure I could come up with more instances of his cruelty, but what would be the purpose? It seems that that could only lead to bitterness and poison within my own heart. Ultimately, I find it to be very unfair to myself to relive something that was awful the first time around. Why would I punish myself for someone else's crime?!
I was talking to a friend today about how every kid deserves to be lavished with hugs, kisses, the whole nine yards and that I envision myself adopting kids one day. I'm not sure how I feel about having kids of my own considering how many kids there already are that are in need of a good home. But all of that to say, my desire to love on as many kids as much as I can is because I don't feel like I got that for the most part.
As we all know, little girls want to be told how beautiful they are and how much they matter. That we are someone worth fighting for! If I could help it, I would NEVER want another girl to doubt how beautiful she is or how much she matters. I know that this is the reason why I am so passionate about working with children (particularly, girls) and why that was my concentration in grad school. NO child should be made to feel the way that I felt growing up.
Now, don't think that all of life was "gloom and doom." Obviously, I survived and have come out the other side. For the most part, I would say that I've done fairly well in spite of some of my dysfunctional childhood.
I have to be honest, though, it has not been by my own strength or wisdom that I made it through in one piece. I definitely felt a strong sense of God's presence in my life since I was very young. Through difficult times in my childhood, I felt like God kept whispering to me, "This is not my desire for you. It wasn't supposed to be like this."
There is redemption in my story, so all is not without hope! When I was taking a shower this morning (where many-a-good conversation with God has taken place), I felt God say, "Give me the pain of your past. You don't need to carry it around anymore." Sometimes I think that I carry around the pain of my past as something to hold on to. As if it justifies my desire to not be as forgiving as I should be. As if I afraid of letting go of the "comfort" of those painful memories. It's odd how being in pain can become "normal" when that's all we've ever known.
I know that God has been plans for me, but that I cannot walk in my destiny if I won't allow myself to let go of the past and walk in the unknown. I've known pain. I've known heartbreak. I've known fear. But God, in his infinite goodness, desires for all of us to know the boundless limits of his love. A love that heals. Yes, the past shapes us, but it doesn't have to define us.
We have to decide what will define us. I REFUSE to be defined by the shitty childhood that I had. I refuse. I wish to be defined by the love of God that flows through me. The cycle of abuse has to end. It has to and will end with me. The kind of legacy I'd like to leave in this life is one of love and compassion. Obviously, I am not perfect, but I'll be damned if I don't try my hardest to be more like my Heavenly Father than my earthly father.
At the end of the day, I think that our resolutions about who we want to be shapes who we become. Will we let life circumstances embitter us or will we find a way to use those negative experiences for good? Will we harness the power of our stories for the benefit of those in our lives and the rest of humankind?
Martin Luther King Jr. said it best:
"Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that."
Here's to letting go of hate and holding on to love!
The other day I was complaining about how jumpy I was at work. I got to thinking about it and why I'm so easily startled. I think that it started when I was young and has continued to be reinforced by life circumstances. But I wanted to get to its source, so I feel like I have to go back to the beginning.
Growing up, my (step)dad was not particularly kind to me. That's putting it lightly. I'm not really interested in rehashing ALL of what that means, because I don't really believe it serves any particular purpose. For the purpose of this argument, I'm trying to draw the connection between my jumpiness as an adult to my dad's actions when I was a kid. He used to take some sort of sick pleasure in sneaking up on me and startling me. He found it funny. Because I think he knew how afraid I was of him, I think that it was cruel. It's like he enjoyed seeing the fear and uncertainty in my eyes. When I think too deeply about it, it chills my blood. I know that it left me feeling really insecure growing up.
Not only was I insecure as a child, but I was also deeply ashamed about who I was. Let me back up a little bit to give you the backdrop to that statement. When I came home today, I found a bag of childhood items on my dresser. In it, I found a dove pin. Initially, I was happy to see it again, because I always loved that pin. Then, I remembered what I had to wear that pin for: to pin a laminated piece of paper to my underwear. The piece of paper read, "Humility." My dad felt that I had issues with arrogance and needed to be humble. As punishment, he told me that I had to pin that paper to my underwear to remind me to be more humble. Even writing this out, it seems unbelievable that it was something I had to do. In hindsight, I think his only goal was humiliation, not humility. And it worked, because I not only felt ashamed but also confused.
If I sit here long enough, I'm sure I could come up with more instances of his cruelty, but what would be the purpose? It seems that that could only lead to bitterness and poison within my own heart. Ultimately, I find it to be very unfair to myself to relive something that was awful the first time around. Why would I punish myself for someone else's crime?!
I was talking to a friend today about how every kid deserves to be lavished with hugs, kisses, the whole nine yards and that I envision myself adopting kids one day. I'm not sure how I feel about having kids of my own considering how many kids there already are that are in need of a good home. But all of that to say, my desire to love on as many kids as much as I can is because I don't feel like I got that for the most part.
As we all know, little girls want to be told how beautiful they are and how much they matter. That we are someone worth fighting for! If I could help it, I would NEVER want another girl to doubt how beautiful she is or how much she matters. I know that this is the reason why I am so passionate about working with children (particularly, girls) and why that was my concentration in grad school. NO child should be made to feel the way that I felt growing up.
Now, don't think that all of life was "gloom and doom." Obviously, I survived and have come out the other side. For the most part, I would say that I've done fairly well in spite of some of my dysfunctional childhood.
I have to be honest, though, it has not been by my own strength or wisdom that I made it through in one piece. I definitely felt a strong sense of God's presence in my life since I was very young. Through difficult times in my childhood, I felt like God kept whispering to me, "This is not my desire for you. It wasn't supposed to be like this."
There is redemption in my story, so all is not without hope! When I was taking a shower this morning (where many-a-good conversation with God has taken place), I felt God say, "Give me the pain of your past. You don't need to carry it around anymore." Sometimes I think that I carry around the pain of my past as something to hold on to. As if it justifies my desire to not be as forgiving as I should be. As if I afraid of letting go of the "comfort" of those painful memories. It's odd how being in pain can become "normal" when that's all we've ever known.
I know that God has been plans for me, but that I cannot walk in my destiny if I won't allow myself to let go of the past and walk in the unknown. I've known pain. I've known heartbreak. I've known fear. But God, in his infinite goodness, desires for all of us to know the boundless limits of his love. A love that heals. Yes, the past shapes us, but it doesn't have to define us.
We have to decide what will define us. I REFUSE to be defined by the shitty childhood that I had. I refuse. I wish to be defined by the love of God that flows through me. The cycle of abuse has to end. It has to and will end with me. The kind of legacy I'd like to leave in this life is one of love and compassion. Obviously, I am not perfect, but I'll be damned if I don't try my hardest to be more like my Heavenly Father than my earthly father.
At the end of the day, I think that our resolutions about who we want to be shapes who we become. Will we let life circumstances embitter us or will we find a way to use those negative experiences for good? Will we harness the power of our stories for the benefit of those in our lives and the rest of humankind?
Martin Luther King Jr. said it best:
"Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that."
Here's to letting go of hate and holding on to love!
Monday, April 23, 2012
"Money doesn't grow on trees"
You know that moment when you realize that "money doesn't grow on trees"? Well, I've been having that realization a lot lately. Post-grad-school, I must admit that I thought life would be a little bit easier than it has been. (Okay, a LOT easier.) The irony is that because of my higher education I am overqualified for many jobs but experientially under-qualified for many others. At the end of the day, it is neither here or there.
The point of this post isn't to complain about how hard life has been or how I've struggled to find my way after graduation (trust me, I've done enough wallowing already). The point is to give thanks. I'm not going to lie, things have been tight lately. Way tighter than they were when I was actually going to school. It has been a lesson in learning to better manage my money, getting creative, and, mainly, trusting in God.
As most of you know, I am not one to readily trust in anyone. I think that is quite the bone of contention in my relationship with God. God is God. Although I don't (really) want to be God, sometimes I'd like to play God for a moment or two and tell God how God ought to be. God should help to minimize the problems in my life in exchange for my allegiance and swearing a life of service. Right?! Wrong.
God is God. And Delia is, well, Delia. I am not the boss. God is. *Gulp* Do I trust God? Do I really trust him? Do I really think that God has my best interests at heart? Am I going to somehow end up with the short end of the stick? Will all the hardship of this life account for anything at the end? What is the gain? Will it all be worth it?
Did you notice how all of those statements revolve around me? Although I am not trying to minimize my value and worth as an individual human being, it is sobering to think about how life isn't all about me. It just isn't. Again, that is neither here or there.
When I take a step back and look at the big picture and the sovereignty of God, I am in utter awe that that God cares to know me. That God knows the number of hairs on my head and every one of my needs. God cares. I think that as humans we try to manipulate and exploit God's concern for us. God is not one to be coerced into doing anything. He is not some mystical cosmic vending machine or genie in a lamp. God desires what is best for us, even if that means we get angry with him or throw a tantrum. (I feel like I've been throwing a lot of those lately).
But, I finally feel like I am nearly the end of my current tantrum, worn out from all of the kicking, screaming, and fighting. God, the lovely parent that God is, has scooped me up into his loving embrace and calmed my anxiety.
At this point, you're probably wondering what prompted such a post. Well, I have to tell you, I got my state tax return in the mail. It is a sizable amount. Although I knew that this check would be arriving some time soon, I cannot even begin to tell you the amount of relief I felt when I held the check in my hand and looked at its dollar amount.
The point of this post isn't to complain about how hard life has been or how I've struggled to find my way after graduation (trust me, I've done enough wallowing already). The point is to give thanks. I'm not going to lie, things have been tight lately. Way tighter than they were when I was actually going to school. It has been a lesson in learning to better manage my money, getting creative, and, mainly, trusting in God.
As most of you know, I am not one to readily trust in anyone. I think that is quite the bone of contention in my relationship with God. God is God. Although I don't (really) want to be God, sometimes I'd like to play God for a moment or two and tell God how God ought to be. God should help to minimize the problems in my life in exchange for my allegiance and swearing a life of service. Right?! Wrong.
God is God. And Delia is, well, Delia. I am not the boss. God is. *Gulp* Do I trust God? Do I really trust him? Do I really think that God has my best interests at heart? Am I going to somehow end up with the short end of the stick? Will all the hardship of this life account for anything at the end? What is the gain? Will it all be worth it?
Did you notice how all of those statements revolve around me? Although I am not trying to minimize my value and worth as an individual human being, it is sobering to think about how life isn't all about me. It just isn't. Again, that is neither here or there.
When I take a step back and look at the big picture and the sovereignty of God, I am in utter awe that that God cares to know me. That God knows the number of hairs on my head and every one of my needs. God cares. I think that as humans we try to manipulate and exploit God's concern for us. God is not one to be coerced into doing anything. He is not some mystical cosmic vending machine or genie in a lamp. God desires what is best for us, even if that means we get angry with him or throw a tantrum. (I feel like I've been throwing a lot of those lately).
But, I finally feel like I am nearly the end of my current tantrum, worn out from all of the kicking, screaming, and fighting. God, the lovely parent that God is, has scooped me up into his loving embrace and calmed my anxiety.
At this point, you're probably wondering what prompted such a post. Well, I have to tell you, I got my state tax return in the mail. It is a sizable amount. Although I knew that this check would be arriving some time soon, I cannot even begin to tell you the amount of relief I felt when I held the check in my hand and looked at its dollar amount.
Like a wave crushing over me, I just knew. God is good. It makes me think of a song that I've had playing on and off in my head for the past two days: How He Loves by David Crowder Band.
The opening lyrics go like this:
"He is jealous for me,
Loves like a hurricane, I am a tree,
Bending beneath the weight of his wind and mercy.
When all of a sudden,
I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory,
And I realize just how beautiful You are,
And how great Your affections are for me."
Loves like a hurricane, I am a tree,
Bending beneath the weight of his wind and mercy.
When all of a sudden,
I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory,
And I realize just how beautiful You are,
And how great Your affections are for me."
God is jealous for you. For me. God wants our hearts, not merely our external forms of allegiance. I posted on my Facebook earlier about how generosity is not about the size of our wallets. Rather, it is about the size of our hearts that matter. Generosity, the act of letting go of what was never actually ours to begin with, is what has been on my heart a lot lately.
It is my prayer that this blog post will serve as a reminder of how we are blessed so that we might be a blessing to others. I am prayerfully considering how to balance between divvying out this money for various bills, car repairs, etc. and how I might be able to bless others as well. One thing that I know that I do not need to pray about is where the first 10% will be going. I've already given to "Caesar" what was "Caesar's" and now it's time to give to God what is God's with a glad and thankful heart. :)
Sunday, April 8, 2012
Lent, Easter, and Africa
At first glance, the title of this blog post may not make the most sense, but I promise you, they are all related somehow.
Let's start with Easter. I must admit that every time another holiday has rolled around in the past five years I have felt a twinge of pain over my family situation. It's a long, complicated story. But let's just say that every holiday is a reminder of what once was... some sort of semblance of the meaning of family. But it wasn't until about two years ago that my immediate family seemed to unravel at a much more accelerated rate.
That being said, it has been a real struggle for me to grapple with feeling sad and ungrateful while feeling guilty because I should be grateful... especially of all holidays, on Easter. It should be a cause for such a great celebration and joy in my heart. Tonight, I kept thinking about my emotional lack of gratitude in contrast to my intellectual obligation to gratitude as I drove home.
Here is what I came up with: Gratitude is a choice. I must choose to not focus on what I don't have and what isn't but on what I do have and what is. What is? I am getting a great tax return this year when I have really been needing that money. I am healthier and stronger physically now more than ever. I am situated in a good place with my business. I have a place to live and food in my belly. Life is good. Not ideal, but good. I'm in much better place now than I have been in two years. I know that I'm moving forward, and not backwards, which is really good. And I know that I have not gotten here alone. When I look at it that way, I am grateful. I truly am.
As I was driving home tonight, I also couldn't help but think back to another time in my life when I was extremely grateful. A time when life was supremely good. On Easter five years ago, I was staying at a resort on the beach with friends in Kenya. We had woken up early to sing worship songs at sunrise. Normally, I don't do early mornings or waking up before the sun, but Easter seemed like the perfect occasion, if any, to forgo the sleep and bask in the beauty of God's creation as we thanked him for the sacrifice of the cross. It was one of those moments in my life that I will never forget. It was handful of us, a guitar, and the sound of the ocean. It was simple and beautiful. No fancy services, Easter productions, powerpoint slides, choirs, nothing. It was just us and God.
That moment was the culmination of an internship in Kenya/Tanzania which was quickly coming to an end. I had spent about four months in Africa and I had learned so much about what it meant to be still before the Lord. I felt God all around me. I felt like I could hear God better out there. At first, the silence was eerie but I grew accustomed to it and comfortable in that space. And that is the reason why I truly miss Africa and I feel like my heart cries out for it. A simplicity and rich spirituality that is hard to explain abounds in that place. There is so much less noise there and I don't just mean a literal noise. I mean the noise of constant sensory overload and, of all places to work, I have chosen to work at one of the noisiest places in the world.
Being constantly overwhelmed for five years now has left me feeling far from God. It is not because God is gone or because I don't want to know God. It is because it is absolutely counter-cultural to find space to just be. To turn off the radio, television, computer, and cell phone and live independent of those things.
Speaking of such things, my friend challenged me to give up TV for Lent this year. I told him that I couldn't because I have too many things queued on Hulu. To which he replied, "That is the exact reason why you need to give it up." Touche, my friend, touche. So, I gave up watching my shows and leaving the TV on at night before I went to bed. Giving it up was difficult but a lot easier than I thought it would be.
Let's start with Easter. I must admit that every time another holiday has rolled around in the past five years I have felt a twinge of pain over my family situation. It's a long, complicated story. But let's just say that every holiday is a reminder of what once was... some sort of semblance of the meaning of family. But it wasn't until about two years ago that my immediate family seemed to unravel at a much more accelerated rate.
That being said, it has been a real struggle for me to grapple with feeling sad and ungrateful while feeling guilty because I should be grateful... especially of all holidays, on Easter. It should be a cause for such a great celebration and joy in my heart. Tonight, I kept thinking about my emotional lack of gratitude in contrast to my intellectual obligation to gratitude as I drove home.
Here is what I came up with: Gratitude is a choice. I must choose to not focus on what I don't have and what isn't but on what I do have and what is. What is? I am getting a great tax return this year when I have really been needing that money. I am healthier and stronger physically now more than ever. I am situated in a good place with my business. I have a place to live and food in my belly. Life is good. Not ideal, but good. I'm in much better place now than I have been in two years. I know that I'm moving forward, and not backwards, which is really good. And I know that I have not gotten here alone. When I look at it that way, I am grateful. I truly am.
As I was driving home tonight, I also couldn't help but think back to another time in my life when I was extremely grateful. A time when life was supremely good. On Easter five years ago, I was staying at a resort on the beach with friends in Kenya. We had woken up early to sing worship songs at sunrise. Normally, I don't do early mornings or waking up before the sun, but Easter seemed like the perfect occasion, if any, to forgo the sleep and bask in the beauty of God's creation as we thanked him for the sacrifice of the cross. It was one of those moments in my life that I will never forget. It was handful of us, a guitar, and the sound of the ocean. It was simple and beautiful. No fancy services, Easter productions, powerpoint slides, choirs, nothing. It was just us and God.
That moment was the culmination of an internship in Kenya/Tanzania which was quickly coming to an end. I had spent about four months in Africa and I had learned so much about what it meant to be still before the Lord. I felt God all around me. I felt like I could hear God better out there. At first, the silence was eerie but I grew accustomed to it and comfortable in that space. And that is the reason why I truly miss Africa and I feel like my heart cries out for it. A simplicity and rich spirituality that is hard to explain abounds in that place. There is so much less noise there and I don't just mean a literal noise. I mean the noise of constant sensory overload and, of all places to work, I have chosen to work at one of the noisiest places in the world.
Being constantly overwhelmed for five years now has left me feeling far from God. It is not because God is gone or because I don't want to know God. It is because it is absolutely counter-cultural to find space to just be. To turn off the radio, television, computer, and cell phone and live independent of those things.
Speaking of such things, my friend challenged me to give up TV for Lent this year. I told him that I couldn't because I have too many things queued on Hulu. To which he replied, "That is the exact reason why you need to give it up." Touche, my friend, touche. So, I gave up watching my shows and leaving the TV on at night before I went to bed. Giving it up was difficult but a lot easier than I thought it would be.
This past week, I have been thinking a lot about what's next. Will my life be any different because of sacrifice I made for Lent? How has my heart changed over the past 40 days? Am I any better because of it?
I must say that I do believe that I will return to some of my favorite shows, but much like how my eating habits have changed, so will my TV watching habits. It would have been impossible for me to sacrifice watching TV for 40 days and not have it change me. In that way, I have realized that this may have been the first step in God trying to woo me back to him. He's calling me back like the prodigal daughter that I've been. My heart has been far from his and empty. That deep desire to be close to him is what makes me miss Africa the most, because I'd equate Africa to being my Mt. Sinai. Moses went to the Mount to meet with God face-to-face and Africa is where I felt like I met with God face-to-face. Like Moses, I do not live on the mountain but I do recognize the need to retreat at times to remove myself of all distractions to be nearer to God.
It is my prayer that it will not be too much longer before I am able to return that place (in both a literal and metaphorical sense). But in the mean time, it is also my prayer that I learn to live in this valley with a new and joyous heart. At the end of the day, I do have much to rejoice for and if for no other reason than this: He is risen! :)
Monday, March 5, 2012
The Jacob Principle
On Sunday, Pastor Phil spoke about "The Jacob Principle." He started out with an intro into Jacob's early life. Pastor Phil got straight to the point by calling him a "conniving little sneak," "loser," and a "mama's boy." Ouch. I never thought of it that way before, but he's right...
Not only did Jacob manipulate his brother so that he would pledge his birthright to him, but he also tricked his father into giving him that blessing. It seems like everywhere Jacob went he pissed people off. Fast-forwarding to later on in his life, Jacob had a little bit of a "situation" when he decided that he wanted to return to the land of his brother after fleeing from his (rightfully) enraged brother so many years earlier. His brother sends word that he plans on meeting Jacob on the road with an army of men. Like the prodigal son's older brother, Esau's initial reaction is something short of happiness at the news of his returning brother.
After dividing his family in half and sending them in different directions, Jacob waits at camp alone and depressed. A stranger approaches the camp and Jacob BODY SLAMS that man. They wrestle all night. And Jacob is about as stubborn as they come. He will not let go; he will not give up. Even after the stranger touches his hip and dislocates it, he doesn't stop. Finally, the stranger asks him to let him go. As the opportunist that Jacob was, he said, "Not until you bless me."
And there you have it. The Jacob Principle: "Wrestling with God and refusing to let go until You bless me."
I've done my fair share of wrestling with God. Although I wouldn't consider myself a conniving little sneak or a loser, I've definitely been feeling like I've been holding onto the heels of God for dear life. I can imagine myself at the base of God as God is trying to walk around with me sitting on His foot and hugging His ankle, refusing to let go.
Out of Jacob's desperation, God recognized that Jacob was right where He wanted him to be.... refusing to let go of God. And he was blessed because of it. Jacob, the conniving loser that he was, was blessed. His circumstances turned around immediately.
When he met his brother on the road, he was not faced with an army of men but of a brother who lovingly embraced him and told him how much he missed him. Wow. My God... My God is a God of the IMPOSSIBLE. God literally makes a way out of NO WAY. It is hard for me to wrap my mind around it, but in my heart, I get this sense that it HAS to be true.
I must admit that I feel like I'm facing the impossible right now in terms of my career. Every time I turn around, it seems like another door is closing and I can sense the quiet voice of the Lord saying, "Until you build your business, doors will not open for you."
Like Jacob, I am desperate to make a change in my life. I have to get out of the desolate and depressing camp that I've been sitting in and face the open road ahead of me, regardless of the obstacles that may lie ahead.
If God wants me to build this business, then God has got to help me make it happen. I need business partners who hunger and thirst for something more in this life: freedom to help others in every means possible. That's what it boils down to. Paying forward the blessings of God and teaching others to do the same. I'm hungry for it. So hungry, I could taste it! Now, we just gotta make it happen. And by we, I mean God needs to do the heavy lifting by leading me to those people, and I'll do the leg work. And like Jacob, I hope that at the end of the day my wrestling with God leaves me with a distinctive walk that shows to the world that I have been changed by that encounter forever.
Not only did Jacob manipulate his brother so that he would pledge his birthright to him, but he also tricked his father into giving him that blessing. It seems like everywhere Jacob went he pissed people off. Fast-forwarding to later on in his life, Jacob had a little bit of a "situation" when he decided that he wanted to return to the land of his brother after fleeing from his (rightfully) enraged brother so many years earlier. His brother sends word that he plans on meeting Jacob on the road with an army of men. Like the prodigal son's older brother, Esau's initial reaction is something short of happiness at the news of his returning brother.
After dividing his family in half and sending them in different directions, Jacob waits at camp alone and depressed. A stranger approaches the camp and Jacob BODY SLAMS that man. They wrestle all night. And Jacob is about as stubborn as they come. He will not let go; he will not give up. Even after the stranger touches his hip and dislocates it, he doesn't stop. Finally, the stranger asks him to let him go. As the opportunist that Jacob was, he said, "Not until you bless me."
And there you have it. The Jacob Principle: "Wrestling with God and refusing to let go until You bless me."
I've done my fair share of wrestling with God. Although I wouldn't consider myself a conniving little sneak or a loser, I've definitely been feeling like I've been holding onto the heels of God for dear life. I can imagine myself at the base of God as God is trying to walk around with me sitting on His foot and hugging His ankle, refusing to let go.
Out of Jacob's desperation, God recognized that Jacob was right where He wanted him to be.... refusing to let go of God. And he was blessed because of it. Jacob, the conniving loser that he was, was blessed. His circumstances turned around immediately.
When he met his brother on the road, he was not faced with an army of men but of a brother who lovingly embraced him and told him how much he missed him. Wow. My God... My God is a God of the IMPOSSIBLE. God literally makes a way out of NO WAY. It is hard for me to wrap my mind around it, but in my heart, I get this sense that it HAS to be true.
I must admit that I feel like I'm facing the impossible right now in terms of my career. Every time I turn around, it seems like another door is closing and I can sense the quiet voice of the Lord saying, "Until you build your business, doors will not open for you."
Like Jacob, I am desperate to make a change in my life. I have to get out of the desolate and depressing camp that I've been sitting in and face the open road ahead of me, regardless of the obstacles that may lie ahead.
If God wants me to build this business, then God has got to help me make it happen. I need business partners who hunger and thirst for something more in this life: freedom to help others in every means possible. That's what it boils down to. Paying forward the blessings of God and teaching others to do the same. I'm hungry for it. So hungry, I could taste it! Now, we just gotta make it happen. And by we, I mean God needs to do the heavy lifting by leading me to those people, and I'll do the leg work. And like Jacob, I hope that at the end of the day my wrestling with God leaves me with a distinctive walk that shows to the world that I have been changed by that encounter forever.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Staying the Course
Growing up in America, I was constantly told that when I grew up that I could be anything that I wanted to be. You know, the good ol' "American dream." For some, that means securing a house with a white picket fence that comes with a spouse, 2.5 kids, and Fido. I've always believed that there are different strokes for different folks. And that, well, I was a little different.
As a kid growing up, I would change my mind every other day about what I wanted to be when I grew up. It ranged from an opera singer to a medical researcher to the first female president to author to teacher and I'm sure other things that I can't even remember. The common themes of these aspirations were to make a difference in the world and to leave a lasting legacy. But it wasn't until I was fifteen that I felt like I was being nudged towards something that I was meant to do with my life.
I went to Tanzania and Kenya with my church when I was fifteen and I haven't been the same since. It was a trip that I believe was divinely appointed.
I felt God's hand on me heavily through that time which led me to graduate from high school when I was sixteen. God prepared the way and I was accepted into Hope International University with scholarships! While at Hope, I got involved in tutoring for a local after-school program within an organization called Solidarity. I loved working with the kids and it was first time that I learned of the term "at risk kids."
Because of my love of working with kids, especially ones deemed as "at risk," my academic adviser recommended that I check out going to Fuller Theological Seminary for grad work. Logically, I ended up going into the school of Intercultural Studies and graduated from there with a Master's in Cross-Cultural Studies with an emphasis in "Children at Risk." It was there that I was really introduced to the reality of Commercial Sexual Exploitation of Children (CSEC).
The fight against CSEC is something that I am truly passionate about. I want to be involved in advocacy and prevention, which includes research and teaching. It will require a lot of hard work and travel. One day, I will go back to school to earn my doctorate. My focus will most likely be related to the "Girl Child." My goal is publish articles and books on related issues. Another goal is to work closely with a network of non-profit organizations and churches. At this point, it is unclear if I will create my own organization or partner with various organizations through research and teaching.
But let's get real. Most likely, that is not what is going to pay the bills. The idealist in me, says, "Who cares?" The realist responds, "I do." And the optimist says, "Why can't it?"
Although I do believe that there are jobs out there that can help pay the bills, I want the freedom to not rely on that money and to feel free to give my time as resources without limit. Someone once said, "You can help far more people as a millionaire than you can when you're a pauper."
So when I had the opportunity to start my own business three years ago, my inner entrepreneur was overjoyed. What I love about it is that I get to help people with their health and to help them build their own businesses.
I have decided that 2012 is the year that I'm really going to put in the needed effort to get to a place where I can replace my current income. Because I know that if I put my mind to anything, it WILL get done. Plain and simple.
My fortitude to go my own way and to carve out my own path is not without its struggles though. The whole impetus for this post stems out of the irony that as I get older, the more people try to talk me out of following my dreams.
The louder that some people say that I can't. The louder I counter that I CAN. And, I WILL.
I refuse to believe that God placed certain dreams in my heart without providing a way to make it happen. My business is that way. It is the way out of no way. Giving up is not an option, because there are far too many children out there who do not have a say in what happens to them. Any resistance I encounter in my life is minor compared to the life and death struggle of far too many children and women.
They are why I continue to fight. The thought of them fuels the fire within my heart to keep fighting. I will NEVER give up and I will NEVER surrender. This is my resolve. May God give me the strength to stay the course. Amen.
As a kid growing up, I would change my mind every other day about what I wanted to be when I grew up. It ranged from an opera singer to a medical researcher to the first female president to author to teacher and I'm sure other things that I can't even remember. The common themes of these aspirations were to make a difference in the world and to leave a lasting legacy. But it wasn't until I was fifteen that I felt like I was being nudged towards something that I was meant to do with my life.
I went to Tanzania and Kenya with my church when I was fifteen and I haven't been the same since. It was a trip that I believe was divinely appointed.
I felt God's hand on me heavily through that time which led me to graduate from high school when I was sixteen. God prepared the way and I was accepted into Hope International University with scholarships! While at Hope, I got involved in tutoring for a local after-school program within an organization called Solidarity. I loved working with the kids and it was first time that I learned of the term "at risk kids."
Because of my love of working with kids, especially ones deemed as "at risk," my academic adviser recommended that I check out going to Fuller Theological Seminary for grad work. Logically, I ended up going into the school of Intercultural Studies and graduated from there with a Master's in Cross-Cultural Studies with an emphasis in "Children at Risk." It was there that I was really introduced to the reality of Commercial Sexual Exploitation of Children (CSEC).
The fight against CSEC is something that I am truly passionate about. I want to be involved in advocacy and prevention, which includes research and teaching. It will require a lot of hard work and travel. One day, I will go back to school to earn my doctorate. My focus will most likely be related to the "Girl Child." My goal is publish articles and books on related issues. Another goal is to work closely with a network of non-profit organizations and churches. At this point, it is unclear if I will create my own organization or partner with various organizations through research and teaching.
But let's get real. Most likely, that is not what is going to pay the bills. The idealist in me, says, "Who cares?" The realist responds, "I do." And the optimist says, "Why can't it?"
Although I do believe that there are jobs out there that can help pay the bills, I want the freedom to not rely on that money and to feel free to give my time as resources without limit. Someone once said, "You can help far more people as a millionaire than you can when you're a pauper."
So when I had the opportunity to start my own business three years ago, my inner entrepreneur was overjoyed. What I love about it is that I get to help people with their health and to help them build their own businesses.
I have decided that 2012 is the year that I'm really going to put in the needed effort to get to a place where I can replace my current income. Because I know that if I put my mind to anything, it WILL get done. Plain and simple.
My fortitude to go my own way and to carve out my own path is not without its struggles though. The whole impetus for this post stems out of the irony that as I get older, the more people try to talk me out of following my dreams.
The louder that some people say that I can't. The louder I counter that I CAN. And, I WILL.
I refuse to believe that God placed certain dreams in my heart without providing a way to make it happen. My business is that way. It is the way out of no way. Giving up is not an option, because there are far too many children out there who do not have a say in what happens to them. Any resistance I encounter in my life is minor compared to the life and death struggle of far too many children and women.
They are why I continue to fight. The thought of them fuels the fire within my heart to keep fighting. I will NEVER give up and I will NEVER surrender. This is my resolve. May God give me the strength to stay the course. Amen.
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