Whoops!

I did something stupid.  I mean really, really stupid.  You see I just had to go and write a post that was apparently pretty good.  It got posted on Facebook.  And re-posted, and shared and shared again, and people I didn't even know were reading it and commenting on it.  Someone even said they wished someone had shared that letter with them when they were younger.  Overnight, it seemed, I had five times as many people looking at that one post as I had looking at any other post.

The problem is, now I can't write.  It seems I have nothing to say.  Suddenly the pressure is there to improve upon my work, even if the pressure is only coming from myself.  But I can't, not right now at least.  It must have been a moment of inspiration that led me to speak to a girl I don't even know and who will probably never know I even thought of her.  I can't fabricate inspiration. I'm not that good.

I write for fun.  Most of my life I've been writing for myself.  I have journals and journals full of pointless ramblings because I didn't have anything to say but wanted to say it anyways.  I have short stories and dialogues and a few poems as well.  I have stories in my head that could one day become a novel if I could just figure out what happens in the end.  Or in the middle.  Or the beginning.

Most of the stuff I wrote in order to impress people was pretty awful, I always thought.  Or boring at least.  Essays with five sentence paragraphs that begin and conclude thoughts nicely and neatly with just the facts and nothing more always were boring to me.  To read and to write.  The first time I ever had a teacher praise my work, and I mean really praise it, was when I was a senior in high school and I stopped caring about grades and simply sat at a computer and wrote what was on my mind. I don't think my teacher knew I was sarcastic until that moment and she loved it.  From that moment on, I stopped trying to follow structure.  I wrote for myself, and what I wanted to write about, with the occasional Greek paper as a partial exception. (I always seemed to find something I was interested in to insert into the paper.)

But for some reason I decided to write where others could see, not just my teachers.  I was still writing for myself, only others could read it.  Now, though, for the first time I feel the need to impress, to live up to the standard that I so foolishly set.  What a mistake!

I'm going to ignore that standard and keep writing for myself.  If you'd like, you may continue to read what I have to say.  If you don't like it, go read some C.S. Lewis, or Orson Scott Card, two writers who, in my opinion, always live up to their own lofty standards.

A letter to a stranger

Dear young lady trying on swimsuits today,

I wish I knew you so we could have this conversation face to face.  I heard you crying and the sound broke my heart.  Sometimes kids are just rude to their parents, but I know the angry words you said to yours today came from the hurt and frustration you felt as you tried suit after suit that was just too small.  You may not believe it but so many of us, maybe even all of us, have had our share of meltdowns in the dressing room.  One part of the body is too big, another to small, arms are too short, shoulders are too broad.  Trust me, I work in clothing, I've heard it all.  No one is runway-model perfect.  No one.  Not even the models.  They usually starve themselves to look the way they do and by the time you see their picture they've been tummy-tucked even more.

But I know a secret.  You are beautiful.  Truly you are.  You are fearfully and wonderfully made.  I don't know you, but I know the one who made you and I know he doesn't make mistakes.  The boys may not think it now, but you are a rare gem, a beauty beyond measure.  Your inner self is made in the image of the most beautiful being ever.  I know its frustrating to not be the way you want to be or to be the way the world thinks you should be but don't let that define you.  The girls who let that define them become obsessive, anorexic, fake.  The real you is too exquisite to hide.  I know many beautiful women.  Few of them have "the perfect body."

Being a teenager is so hard.  Every mean comment takes up residence in your brain, every heartbreak feels like a black hole, every imperfection feels like its being posted on a big screen for the world to see.  I hope you know the truth, the author of the truth, because only he can really show you how valuable you are.  Don't let one bad day buying swimsuits influence the image you see in the mirror.

The Lord and Creator of all things loves you and calls you his child.  That is all you need.  He thinks you're pretty special and beautiful beyond compare.

Merry Christmas Ransom Church!

This weekend has been...well...hard.  Five years ago this weekend a good friend died in a skiing accident.  Four years ago this same weekend I witnessed someone die for the first (and so far, only) time.  On Friday a small private plane crashed taking off from the airport here and killed all three passengers and the pilot.  One of the men in the plane went to our church.  I didn't know him well but his family, members of my church family, are hurting right now, and my heart aches for them.  Logic tells me that there is nothing cursed about the second weekend of December, but still, every time it comes around, I find myself holding my breath just a little.

Despite all the negativity associated with this weekend, this year another significant chapter in my life begins.  This time it is something good.  Very good.  This weekend was the very last weekend that the Ransom Church will ever meet in a movie theater.  Several months ago we bought a building and next week we meet for the very first time in that building.  God's got such a great sense of humor on the timing of that one, doesn't he?  "Merry Christmas guys!  I got you a building!"  I'm sure I'm going get some fantastic gifts this year, but its sure going to be hard to top that one.

I can't tell you how unbelievably excited I am for this new building, but there is definitely a taste of the bitter mixed with the sweet. Even though it has been called "the fifth most ghetto place in Sioux Falls," God has done some amazing things from that movie theater.  He has changed lives.  He has brought new followers to him, brought runaways back, and given new purpose to those who love him but were beginning to forget what it was all about.  I began my time here in Sioux Falls fascinated by a group of people who dared to call a theater a holy place.  I stayed because, though imperfect, they love like God loves.  I know you can find that in many, many churches, including countless here in Sioux Falls, but it was this body of believers who became family.  So when I say I was a little sad to walk out of that place today for the last time as a church, you'll understand that it is because God was there.

Great thing is, God already parked himself at the corner of 3rd and Main long ago.  He had this place picked out long before we saw it, envisioned ourselves in it, or dreamed it would ever be possible to own.  He has a purpose for us here and I know I am not the only one who is ridiculously excited to see what it is.  Its a little sad to see the old place go, but it doesn't even hold a candle to how happy I am to call the new one home.

Christmas is Weird

The last few posts have been serious and I'm ready for a little fun.  So tonight I'm going to write about how absolutely weird Christmas is.  The Christmas tree is on.  The stocking is being raided early (yes, I already have candy in there. Resse's.  A gift from a sweet friend.  Get it? Sweet? Candy? Don't worry, its funny, because I am hilarious.)  The fireplace DVD is on.  So is the "Christian Contemporary Christmas" station on Pandora.  "Christian" to ensure I hear at least a few carols and in hope that I don't hear "Winter Wonderland" or "Let it Snow" in ANY annoying version again today.  I am officially being as Christmas-y as possible without actually breaking out the ugly sweater because that is way too good to waste on an evening alone.

So here we go, my top 7 reasons that Christmas is weird:

1. The word Yule.   I just don't get it.  And what even is a yule log? Or yuletide?  Or wassail?  Or figgy pudding?

2. Christmas music.  Obviously.  I work in retail, I'm allowed to be slightly Grinch-like about this.  Especially when we listen to the same 8 songs in 12 different versions every day! And especially when the people who made the playlist did dumb things like choose the 12 second version of the Dahoo-Dores song from the Grinch instead of the full song from the end of the movie.  (By the way, did you know its actually daHoo and not daVoo.  I didn't.  Until now.)  Maybe this is why my favorite song at work is "You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch."  But even taking all Grinchiness out of it, think about how weird it is.  What other holiday has an entire genre of music?  Take Valentine's day. "But we need a little Valentine's.  Right this very minute. Roses at my doorstep. Chocolate wrapped in paper." It just doesn't work.

3. Romance.  Can somebody please explain to me how Christmas went from being about the salvation of mankind to how important it is to be kissing under the mistletoe?  We have mistletoe in our apartment and I can assure you it doesn't work, to begin with.  And what's so romantic about the cold anyways?  We sing about romantic sleigh rides but who has even ridden in a sleigh?  Do they even exist anymore?  I guess it would be romantic to snuggle up with the portable furnaces that men tend to be but seriously, when I'm outside in December, I'm usually not thinking, "Hey, let's stare into each other's eyes for a minute."  Its usually, "Get me inside before I learn that it actually is possible for eyeballs to freeze."

4. Presents.  Okay, maybe when we were kids it made more sense.  Kids don't make money, so giving them gifts is perfectly acceptable.  But what about when we are older?  Half the time we just give each other gift cards anyways.  Its like my dad said, "Why don't I just go and get a hundred dollar bill and give it to mom, who can pass it to one kid, to the next, to the next and so on and I'll get it back and put it back in the bank.  Merry Christmas!  In fact, let's just make it a thousand!"  That's kinda what gift cards are.  I know, I know, the idea is to give a gift that they wouldn't normally get themselves but how often do we put that much thought into it?  Maybe I'm just jaded by seeing so many lists where the child has cut out pictures and demanded that they get that exact one.  You wouldn't believe how many people come in only to find that the exact color requested isn't in stock and then get on the phone and ask the child who is getting the gift what would be an acceptable alternative.  Seriously?  Whatever happened to surprises and giving out of love and not obligation?

5. Increased Donations at Christmas.  I get its the end of the year and all that tax-deductible whatever, plus I'm sure many people give out of the generosity of their hearts from their Christmas bonuses and I know organizations aren't crying about the budget-boosting, but don't people know that people are hungry in January too?  That is all.

6. Fireplace DVDs.   I love my fireplace DVD.  Too much probably.  And I know its all in my head, but I do feel warmer when its on. And if you don't have one, you should get one. Check Walgreens.  Got mine for $2 there last year and its the best thing that's ever happened to Sunday Night Hot Drinks. But I admit it.  Its super weird.

7. Green and Red. Pink and red. Red, white, and blue.  Orange and Black.  Who picks these colors anyway?

Don't get me wrong.  I love Christmas. Sometimes I repeat that phrase over and over to myself between clenched teeth to remember that Christmas isn't about rude customers who snap their fingers at you like a dog, or who blame you for the fact that what they want isn't real or that it is real but costs too much.  I love Christmas. (almost as much as I love the song that just came on.  I Celebrate the Day by Relient K. Good job Pandora.)  I even love most parts of the things I talked about above.  Mistletoe may not create romantic magic, but it certainly creates hilarious moments.  As my sister would say, "You say weird as if its a bad thing."

I guess it makes sense though, seeing where the holiday gets its origins.  God as a baby, born to die?  Weirdest thing I ever heard of.  Awesome, but weird.

We'll face unafraid, the plans that we've made...

.....walking in a winter wonderland.

Now, I'm not really sure what facing the future with courage has to do with walking in the snow, but I must say, that of all the lyrics in all the not-really-about-Christmas Christmas songs out there, this line is my favorite.  The rest of the song annoys me, especially since the store apparently thinks everyone would just love to hear two versions of the same song back to back. (Seriously people I know that Christmas music isn't the biggest genre out there, but there are so many better, or at least more, options! I heard this song at least three times today. I think I'd prefer Suzie Snowflake.)

I like this line because it speaks of courage.  Some may say optimism, some may call it wistful thinking, but I like to think that it has a deeper meaning behind it, whether the lyricist meant it to or not.  See, I think that to say "we'll face unafraid" implies that the young couple knows that their plans are just outrageous enough that if they think about it too much they might actually be afraid to face them.  And so they decide to face them anyways, without fear.  The world may see that as foolish. I see that as courage.  Because isn't that a little bit what courage is?  Foolishness? Isn't it just a little foolish for that young man to risk his life in our military?  Isn't it a little foolish to run into that burning building to find the child that is still inside?  Isn't it foolish to rush to the aid of a stranger in need when danger could be just around the corner?  And yet we don't call these people foolish.  We call them heroes. Courage is looking foolishness in the eye and saying, "There is something that is worth more than my fear."

The opportunity to demonstrate courage that big and bold doesn't come to us every day.  I have many friends in the military.  Few are overseas at the moment.  Most likely they won't need to make the choice to risk their lives for another anytime soon.  Same with the rest of us.  A few have chosen professions that put them in danger often; firefighters, police officers.  The rest of us may one day have the opportunity to save a life.  We may witness a car crash or a heart attack and be able to rise to the occasion but that situation will come upon us suddenly, with no warning.  You can decide to be heroes now but when the time comes, you may forget how to unlock the car door and be rendered useless.

I wonder, though, what would happen if we faced every day looking for opportunities to be courageous.  What if we decided to ask someone who is clearly struggling if we could help even though it may be a huge time commitment?  What if we started saving money for our dreams now so we can see them realized later?  What if we saw an opportunity and took advantage of it, not in spite of being scared but because of it?  

Its funny how courage isn't really thought about until it is lacking or shown extraordinarily.  And when we do see it we realize how much we’ve missed it. Now, I don’t mean that we should go out looking for danger to prove that we are brave.  Courage can be shown every day.  For example I had a friend tell me recently that she'd been asked out by a guy she wasn't interested in.  Even though she was not attracted to him, she was very impressed that he had the guts to say something.  Now, I'm not sure if this was showing extraordinary courage of the kind to be likened to death defying feats of bravery, but it definitely stood in stark contrast to experiences that every single girl in the room had dealt with where someone had taken the easy way out rather than ask one simple question. 

It makes me think of the question that a junior high teacher once asked my class. "What would you do if you knew you could not fail?"  I’ve always thought about that question in the context of the big things, save-the-world kind of things.  But I wonder if we lived every day with that question in our hearts and just went for things what would happen.  I think the courage to face the big stuff would follow.  Should we experiment?  After all, failure isn’t so bad, as long as we keep trying something new.  Did you know that Edison wasn’t the first person to come up with the concept of the light bulb?  He was just the first person to have the determination and courage to try thousands and thousands of filaments until one worked long enough to be practical.  Everyone else took the easy way out and have been forgotten about entirely.

So here's my question to you: "What would you do if you knew you could not fail?"

Advice

Lately I've been trying to be intentional about seeing God's hand in the every day, which is quite hard when you are also trying to think on things that are true.  God isn't always obvious with his actions and sometimes they seem like coincidence, so its easy to say that its an overactive mind making connections that aren't there when this certain thing happens to be occurring right at this certain, ironic moment.

So on Sunday when the thought popped into my mind to ask Friend A for advice, I was aware that this might not be just a random thought but a thought from God.  I normally would not ask Friend A for advice.  In fact I don't really talk to Friend A for reasons that are entirely my fault (and for which I hope he knows how truly sorry I am).  So it was likely that this thought was not my own.  I thought "yeah, but..." and God answered my "yeah, but..." with an opportunity to speak to him.  And another and another.  I kept turning them down until finally as I was walking away the last time God stopped me and said, "Seriously?  You ask to see my hand and then ignore it when  I make it super-obvious."  So I turned around and marched right back in and asked A for the advice I needed.

Funny thing was, I knew exactly what he would say.  Not the exact words but the general idea.  I don't want to give too many details so forgive me for over-simplifying but essentially he said, "Suck it up and get over it." These were the words that I needed to hear and I knew it but for some reason I tried to argue with him once he said it.  In the middle of my sentence I stopped and said, "I should just stop talking and walk away and let you talk me out of doing something stupid.  I came to you so you'd talk me out of stupid actions and I'm not letting you do it."  He agreed with my sentiments about Friend B's actions and that should have been enough.

Isn't that the way it goes though?  We all want and seek advice but how often do we listen to it?  I catch myself doing this all the time.  I can't tell you how many times I've said or thought to myself, "If this were one of the girls in my dorm I'd tell her to..." but then not take that advice myself.  I believe my brother-in-law put it best when he said, "I am capable of making good decisions, the problem is that I just don't."  We all laughed at him because he was just so dang honest but I think that he probably speaks for the majority of humanity when he says that.  So often great advice is given but not taken and I will readily admit that I myself am guilty of letting good advice pass me by.




I probably should have made this post about things I'm thankful for seeing as its Thanksgiving today but this post has been working in my mind since Sunday and I took the first opportunity to write that I could.  Now the turkey needs to be put in the oven but I'll leave you with a brief summary of some things I'm thankful for today and everyday.

Family, friends, roommates, The Ransom and our beautiful new building, sunshine, turkey, days off, a job, a roof over my head, food to eat, clean water to drink, delicious teas including chai, Constant Comment, and a new favorite: Sleepytime.  I'm thankful for friends who say the hard things when I need to hear it and who lift me up when I'm down.  I'm thankful for a life group this past semester that was just simply rockin' and that there is a guitar sitting in my room right now and I actually know what to do with it.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Whatever is true...

Sometimes I get stuck.  Sometimes there's just one thing that won't leave me alone.  A thought or a quote, often its a Bible verse.  I'll be trucking along, reading when all in a sudden I can't go on.  I go back and reread a passage over and over again until it sinks into my brain.  Often I'll pick up my Bible the next day expecting to read the next chapter but I find myself fixated on the very same passage as the day before.  It won't let me go. This week that passage is Philippians 4:8:

Finally, brothers, whatever is true,

whatever is noble,

whatever is right,

whatever is pure,

whatever is lovely,

whatever is admirable-if anything is excellent or praiseworthy-think about such things.

Actually, I'm not even stuck on the whole verse.  As I reread I include the whole verse as well as 4-9 as well and everything in these few verses is absolute gold, but what I'm really, truly stuck on is three words.  Whatever is true.

I am told that men and women think differently.  Because of this I expect that most women who read this will sigh inwardly with understanding.  Perhaps the men will be slightly confused but I think not too much.  See, I've had multiple conversations with women about how what we are feeling so often becomes so strong and overwhelming that in our minds it becomes reality and it takes a whole lot of convincing to tell us otherwise.  So much of the running commentary in our brains is packed full of untruths:

"I'm fat"

"I'm ugly"
"No one loves me" 

"I'm no good at anything"

"I'm worthless"

"I'm hopeless"

We get these ideas into our heads and every idea we have is shaped around them.  We obsess over what we eat to be the "perfect body shape." (As if such a thing even exists.  Seriously, ask anyone, even the most beautiful person you know and I can bet they can pinpoint at least one thing they'd like to change if they could.)  We spend obscene amounts of dollars on makeup and clothing to try to look pretty.  We change who we are to try to fit in.  We try to do everything to prove that we can, or we do nothing so no one sees us fail.  We try to be important, to be needed.  We try to change who we are.

We also try to change the past.  We constantly obsess about what we would have done if we could have done things differently:

"If only I hadn't said anything, then she wouldn't be mad at me."

"If only I had made a different choice, then my life wouldn't be falling apart."

"If only I'd fought for him more, then he'd still love me."

We try to change the past by imagining how much better it could have been.  We ask what if, which is such a dangerous, dangerous question.  We also take small things and blow them way out of proportion, both good and bad:

"He smiled at me, that means he likes me and he'll ask me out and we'll get married and I'll name our kids after his great grandparents, I should probably figure out what those are."

"My friend just walked past me and only smiled. And it didn't look like a real smile.  I bet she's mad.  Probably at me.  But really, I'm the one who should be mad at her, because of that one time that she did that one thing.  How dare she be mad at me?"

And now you all are thinking, "That's totally me!" or "She is a crazy person!"

So when I read these three words, "whatever is true," of course I got stuck.  This false thinking permeates so much of our lives.  So, I tried an experiment.  I tried to not think things that were not true.  It turned out way harder than I expected.  But I learned something.  Its way better.  So many of the things that make me upset make me upset because of the untrue proportions I take them to.  

For example, at work right now, we are getting ready for the holiday season.  Soon, it will be getting South Dakota cold and people will be wanting coats and hats and gloves and they're going to want it all to be magical and weigh nothing but keep you as warm as a Jamaican beach in July when its snowing and the wind is howling and the river froze solid 35 degrees earlier.  And they're going to want a very specific hoodie that they knew we carried 5 years ago and they can't believe we don't carry that specific shade of puke green anymore and we ruined Christmas because we didn't have exactly what they wanted.  

Can I tell you something?  Those days and those customers will come.  And the week before Christmas is probably the least full of holiday cheer in retail possible.  But, its not even Thanksgiving yet.  Can I tell you what kind of people go shopping for Christmas gifts before Thanksgiving and coats before the first snow?  The really nice kind. The kind who are not in a hurry and who aren't going to blame you for the fact that their coat doesn't fit and its cold now but we just don't have their size.  So what good is it to me to become anxious about these hypothetical customers now?  Dwelling on the fact that they will come only makes it more irritating when they do.

I knew a young woman once who was convinced that a certain young man and her were destined to be together because they happened to be the only two customers in a coffee shop once and he said hi and they talked and it had to be God putting them together.  Was it any surprise that she was hurt in the end?  What if she had thought about what was true? He was a very friendly guy and a great friend.  She could have gained a wonderful friendship instead of being bitterly disappointed.  I do this to myself all the time.  Instead of dwelling on what I have, I think about what I could have and completely miss out on the joy of what  it was that I had in the first place.

What do you think?  What are some untrue things that we/you dwell on?  What kinds of truths should we be dwelling on?