Ever had one of those moments when you know God's right there with you? You're absolutely overwhelmed by his presence and may be driven to raise your hands, sing, or, dare I say, cry? You realize the things you've been worried about are already taken care of? For me, this moment tends to creep up on me during worship at church. When I lived in Dallas, that moment hit me every Sunday at The Village. I walked into church knowing the Holy Spirit was going to move in me and I left every week wiping the tears from my cheeks.
Lately, though, I've been shaking my fists at God, asking Him why in the heck he's not making me cry during worship. Why Lord? Why aren't you making me feel like I should fall to my knees and cry my eyes out? Why am I not crying my makeup off and walking out of church looking like a complete nutcase? Week after week, I've walked away from worship frustrated God wasn't moving like I thought He should be.
Then, Friday night happened. I started reading Steven Furtick's Greater and let's just say things the Lord has been trying to show me for a long time came to fruition in a tangible, fall-to-your-knees-and-cry-your-makeup-off kind of way.
How much time had I wasted worrying about why my time in worship wasn't "doing it" for me? Over the past few months, as I prayed about my struggles, I thought about advice pointing me toward verses like James 1:2 (Count it in all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds). Therefore I thought, "The answer is worship. I just need to turn on my feel-good music and listen or sing along. That'll fix everything." If we're being completely honest, most feel-good Christian music is pretty bad and it doesn't do much for me because, well, it's Pop radio with a greater message.
How selfish of it was me to think that worship was for me? What about all those people who've never felt the Holy Spirit move like that? Would it have been too much for me to pray for someone else to receive that blessing? I've been so self-centered to use worship as a tool for myself. Gimme, gimme, gimme, Lord!
As I sat in the floor of my living room, I understood what it
means for God to meet us where we are. I had trapped myself in the
tunnel vision of church worship. I was convinced church was the
place where I was closest to the Lord. However, God has been trying to
get it through my thick head that if I'm open-minded enough to realize
His work in every aspect of my life, that closeness happens a whole lot
more often than once a week for fifteen minutes. What's even cooler is realizing I can worship Him without music at all. Worship is setting aside time to dive into the Word. Worship can be a conversation. Worship can be a success at work. Worship can be a moment of vulnerability, face down in your living room floor.
There have been a few moments when I thought my miserable life was so depressing there was no real reason to worship at all. Luckily, worship isn't about praising God for the hell life can be, but praising Him for already getting us through those times and saving a spot for us in His Kingdom:
'Therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us be thankful, and so worship God acceptably, with reverence and awe, for our "God is a consuming fire."
-Hebrews 12:28-29
Not only is there so much better in store for us, but God's love consumes every aspect of our lives. He's desires to control every aspect of our lives to shape us for good, not only for others, but for ourselves. If you ask me, that's a reason to worship...even outside the church walls.
Sunday, December 8, 2013
Friday, November 22, 2013
Leg Up
We'd spent 5 months together, we'd grown close, we'd fought, and we'd learned what the future might hold for each of us. The interns at Athletes Performance had grown to know each others desires in life as well as the things that sent us into a rage. Then, one afternoon, Roy asked us the question, "Who is one person you believe to be successful," and I think each of the interns knew there was something wrong with my answer.
I was first up, and I regretted it as soon as it came out of my mouth, "Bill Gates."
In my mind, I was thinking, "Bill Gates. He's made a fortune, but not necessarily for himself. He gives, and he had to struggle to get to where he is. So yeah, that's why most people say Bill Gates is successful, right?"
However true that may be, it's a terrible reason to justify giving an answer that's not my own, but society's. When I think about what success looks like to me, it certainly isn't Bill Gates. However, because that was my answer, I was forced to step back and reassess where my heart and my intentions are in relation to the things I do and the ways in which I strive toward what I think is success. Am I aiming for recognition? Money? Friends? Or, am I striving toward serving others so they may know a life filled with hope? What has stricken me in working with and meeting people in my long 23 years of life is that so many have given up on hope for their life, their families, or their careers. Success, to me, means helping others understand that hope can be restored, no matter how far south we think our lives have gone.
Roy asked us that question in May and it took losing someone incredibly dear to me last week to finally form that picture of success in my own mind. Louis "Louie" Canelakes became somewhat of a dad to me while I was in Dallas. I stumbled upon a hostessing position for his bar on the weekends and kept the job for three years. Louie's was the place that oftentimes reminded me Dallas wasn't so bad and I needed to stop feeling sorry for myself. Everyone there welcomed me as one of their own. I celebrated birthdays, went on dates, and watched a multitude of Ranger games with my family at Louie's. Every week, no matter how busy he was, Louie made sure to stop, ask how I was, and give me a brief lesson in Greek history. He dropped what he was doing when someone sketchy was trying to hit on me, but we always had a lighthearted laugh about it after the fact. He cared for his dive bar and his family there with a genuine heart, week after week. Even though Louie's is popular, Louie refused to allow his bar to become a money-hungry, run-of-the-mill, cookie cutter establishment. He was true to himself, true to his family, and never wavered from his convictions.
Louie took the time to get to know people and believed in their causes, even if it countered his own. Louie embodied what so many of us lack: faith. Not only did Louie have faith in those around him, he had faith in himself and what he knew he was put on earth to do. When everyone told him he needed to grow or bring in more money, Louie kept his foot down. That's not who he was and that's not how he would be successful. It would have been easy for Louie to search and hire big-name business managers, chefs, and staff who would have promoted his name. However, he had faith in the people and family he brought into Louie's, because he knew as well as anyone they had faith in him. He welcomed big-name customers as well as families living from paycheck to paycheck. When he heard criticism and was told what he was doing was sub-par, his faith in his cause overrode that negativity.
Louie's cause wasn't for money, it wasn't for recognition, it wasn't to gain a hold in the Dallas social scene. Louie wanted to make a place where everyone from every corner of Dallas could meet on an even playing field. He couldn't care less how much money you had or didn't have, he was going to serve you and if you found a place at the bar and wanted to talk, he wanted to listen. Louie lived outside himself, which is apparent in the memories he established within those who knew him.
Don't get me wrong, success manifests itself in various ways, because we all have different purposes. There's nothing wrong with making a lot of money. It's okay for people to know your name. It's even alright if your success puts you in a position of authority. However, when we have those things, those titles, and that recognition for our own gain without regard to others, that is failure. Success doesn't mean being able to do whatever you want, but rather giving up some pleasures or niceties in order to have the opportunity to uplift and better others. Yeah, success is sacrifice, but its done in faith, which reaps a blessing, not only for the successful one, but for those he serves.
We can't take our money, our friends, or our possessions with us when we leave, but we can take our souls. If those souls are filled with kindness, service, faith, and selflessness, Heaven will be filled with a whole lot of love, and that sounds like a great place to be. Lou, thanks for having faith in yourself, and thanks for having faith in me. I thought and still think you're crazy every time you said I was going to be a governor, but I know without a doubt you had faith in my future and that means the world to me. And Roy, I have a different answer now, and it's not Bill Gates.
I was first up, and I regretted it as soon as it came out of my mouth, "Bill Gates."
In my mind, I was thinking, "Bill Gates. He's made a fortune, but not necessarily for himself. He gives, and he had to struggle to get to where he is. So yeah, that's why most people say Bill Gates is successful, right?"
However true that may be, it's a terrible reason to justify giving an answer that's not my own, but society's. When I think about what success looks like to me, it certainly isn't Bill Gates. However, because that was my answer, I was forced to step back and reassess where my heart and my intentions are in relation to the things I do and the ways in which I strive toward what I think is success. Am I aiming for recognition? Money? Friends? Or, am I striving toward serving others so they may know a life filled with hope? What has stricken me in working with and meeting people in my long 23 years of life is that so many have given up on hope for their life, their families, or their careers. Success, to me, means helping others understand that hope can be restored, no matter how far south we think our lives have gone.
Roy asked us that question in May and it took losing someone incredibly dear to me last week to finally form that picture of success in my own mind. Louis "Louie" Canelakes became somewhat of a dad to me while I was in Dallas. I stumbled upon a hostessing position for his bar on the weekends and kept the job for three years. Louie's was the place that oftentimes reminded me Dallas wasn't so bad and I needed to stop feeling sorry for myself. Everyone there welcomed me as one of their own. I celebrated birthdays, went on dates, and watched a multitude of Ranger games with my family at Louie's. Every week, no matter how busy he was, Louie made sure to stop, ask how I was, and give me a brief lesson in Greek history. He dropped what he was doing when someone sketchy was trying to hit on me, but we always had a lighthearted laugh about it after the fact. He cared for his dive bar and his family there with a genuine heart, week after week. Even though Louie's is popular, Louie refused to allow his bar to become a money-hungry, run-of-the-mill, cookie cutter establishment. He was true to himself, true to his family, and never wavered from his convictions.
Louie took the time to get to know people and believed in their causes, even if it countered his own. Louie embodied what so many of us lack: faith. Not only did Louie have faith in those around him, he had faith in himself and what he knew he was put on earth to do. When everyone told him he needed to grow or bring in more money, Louie kept his foot down. That's not who he was and that's not how he would be successful. It would have been easy for Louie to search and hire big-name business managers, chefs, and staff who would have promoted his name. However, he had faith in the people and family he brought into Louie's, because he knew as well as anyone they had faith in him. He welcomed big-name customers as well as families living from paycheck to paycheck. When he heard criticism and was told what he was doing was sub-par, his faith in his cause overrode that negativity.
Louie's cause wasn't for money, it wasn't for recognition, it wasn't to gain a hold in the Dallas social scene. Louie wanted to make a place where everyone from every corner of Dallas could meet on an even playing field. He couldn't care less how much money you had or didn't have, he was going to serve you and if you found a place at the bar and wanted to talk, he wanted to listen. Louie lived outside himself, which is apparent in the memories he established within those who knew him.
Don't get me wrong, success manifests itself in various ways, because we all have different purposes. There's nothing wrong with making a lot of money. It's okay for people to know your name. It's even alright if your success puts you in a position of authority. However, when we have those things, those titles, and that recognition for our own gain without regard to others, that is failure. Success doesn't mean being able to do whatever you want, but rather giving up some pleasures or niceties in order to have the opportunity to uplift and better others. Yeah, success is sacrifice, but its done in faith, which reaps a blessing, not only for the successful one, but for those he serves.
We can't take our money, our friends, or our possessions with us when we leave, but we can take our souls. If those souls are filled with kindness, service, faith, and selflessness, Heaven will be filled with a whole lot of love, and that sounds like a great place to be. Lou, thanks for having faith in yourself, and thanks for having faith in me. I thought and still think you're crazy every time you said I was going to be a governor, but I know without a doubt you had faith in my future and that means the world to me. And Roy, I have a different answer now, and it's not Bill Gates.
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
Did I Do That?
You've had the conversation. You know, someone asks you what your regrets in life are. Chances are this question either dive bombs straight into a heart-to-heart or you quickly say, "I don't have any," and you sit in awkward silence until someone can think of a new topic.
The latter has always been true for me. I'm always the one to say, "I don't have any regrets. It happened, it's over, I moved on." What about you? Do you dwell on actions you either deliberately or unintentionally made that didn't turn out so hot? Do you, like me, scoff at the idea of having regrets because that clearly means you actually screwed up? Obviously, I'm perfect, so I'm gonna cling to that "No Regrets" reply until my fingers go numb.
On two separate occasions this morning, I was shown that while my answer to the question isn't necessarily wrong, it's grounded in an incorrect and selfish ideology. Take note:
"I have no regrets because everything I did made me who I am today. I made those choices, I'm alive, I'm a pretty good person now."
Then, there's the other camp that's equally wrong:
"I have plenty of regrets because I feel badly about the things I've done and I wish I never would have made those choices. It hurts me to think I did those things and sometimes those regrets impact my life today."
Lots of personal pronouns in there. We tend to think of our past and our actions in light of how they impacted us. Certainly, there are times when our actions hurt others, but whether we regret or stand by those actions, that stance in grounded in how that makes us feel in the long run. Whether you choose to believe it or not, that shame, that guilt, is sin rearing its head to get at us. But sin, y'all, isn't just something that happens, it's something that actively separates us from the only One who can redeem. When we selfishly view that sin, we lose sight of how it has impacted our relationship with Christ, and we end up with the two viewpoints.
On one hand, the sin/action happened, but it ultimately contributed to the "better" person today. This validates sin in a way that is really scary. Here, it is because of sin that we are better or stronger people. We must refuse to give sin that power. Its Christ redemption interrupting that sin that saved us from being consumed by it. By giving sin the power to "make us better," Christ becomes nothing more than an excuse for people to use to call themselves Christians. You've met this person. You may be this person.
On the other hand, sin dwells and actively eats away at the conscience, to prevent a person from forgiving himself and others. With this mindset, sin plays its well-known role, in that it prevents us from healing and turning to Christ's love, which opens the doors to freedom. Here, we totally miss the concept of redemption. We allow a sin, a (sometimes single) action, to convince us we are not worth a full measure of love and forgiveness and again, we are separated from Christ.
So now school circle, around me. We have two viewings of our actions (sins), one of which tells us sin actually makes us better, stronger people in the long run, and one of which suggests we must always remember those sins because they were terrible and we shouldn't ever do them again. So now, enter Christ and enter redemption.
When we feel bad about the things we do, that's called conviction and it's God's way of exposing our shortcomings to us. What we fail to realize is when we claim responsibility for conquering sins, we don't really heal. We end up hardened and proud, rather than humbled by our faults. Christ, y'all, is the reason we can recognize those sins and grow, not out of those sins, but out of Christ's love. When we hold onto our sins because we feel guilty about letting them go, we miss redemption. Our Creator so longs for us to experience freedom from all that junk, he paid a huge price for it.
And please, for the love of all that is good, realize no amount of action, either good or bad, can get you into or out of Eternity. Actions of this world remain in this world. That change of heart, that conviction and mercy, is what gets us where we want to go. For those who have been judged by Christians for your lifestyle, your actions, or even rumors about your actions, I am so incredibly sorry. What's cool about Christ is the moment we truly recognize those sins before Him, he asks, "What sin," and moves forward.
Love keeps no record of wrongs. Your actions, both good and bad, hold no weight in your redemption. It's Christ's love, his heart, his sacrifice that justifies your salvation. So let's restructure our regret sentence with a little help.
"For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God" Romans 3:23
"He sent redemption to his people. He has commanded his covenant forever. Holy and awesome is His name!" Psalm 111:9
"He saved us, not because of works done by us in righteous, but according to his own mercy by the washing of regeneration and renewal of the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us richly through Jesus Christ our Savior." Titus 3:5-6
We all sin. God loves us and has promised redemption and he's good on his word. Nothing we can do can get us to Heaven or condemn us to Hell, because Jesus, quite literally, paid it all. Therefore, I know I have sinned, but God's love and forgiveness has helped me recognize it and through him, I have grown and learned to love. For you pessimists, this sounds like a too-good-to-be-true, give me a break, fantasy idea. That's the magnitude of it all. We (understandably) don't comprehend and can't conceptualize that kind of love and forgiveness. Take heart in the fact that we are not condemned to a life of regret, but we are welcomed to redemption and freedom in a full, joyous life God has for us.
The latter has always been true for me. I'm always the one to say, "I don't have any regrets. It happened, it's over, I moved on." What about you? Do you dwell on actions you either deliberately or unintentionally made that didn't turn out so hot? Do you, like me, scoff at the idea of having regrets because that clearly means you actually screwed up? Obviously, I'm perfect, so I'm gonna cling to that "No Regrets" reply until my fingers go numb.
On two separate occasions this morning, I was shown that while my answer to the question isn't necessarily wrong, it's grounded in an incorrect and selfish ideology. Take note:
"I have no regrets because everything I did made me who I am today. I made those choices, I'm alive, I'm a pretty good person now."
Then, there's the other camp that's equally wrong:
"I have plenty of regrets because I feel badly about the things I've done and I wish I never would have made those choices. It hurts me to think I did those things and sometimes those regrets impact my life today."
Lots of personal pronouns in there. We tend to think of our past and our actions in light of how they impacted us. Certainly, there are times when our actions hurt others, but whether we regret or stand by those actions, that stance in grounded in how that makes us feel in the long run. Whether you choose to believe it or not, that shame, that guilt, is sin rearing its head to get at us. But sin, y'all, isn't just something that happens, it's something that actively separates us from the only One who can redeem. When we selfishly view that sin, we lose sight of how it has impacted our relationship with Christ, and we end up with the two viewpoints.
On one hand, the sin/action happened, but it ultimately contributed to the "better" person today. This validates sin in a way that is really scary. Here, it is because of sin that we are better or stronger people. We must refuse to give sin that power. Its Christ redemption interrupting that sin that saved us from being consumed by it. By giving sin the power to "make us better," Christ becomes nothing more than an excuse for people to use to call themselves Christians. You've met this person. You may be this person.
On the other hand, sin dwells and actively eats away at the conscience, to prevent a person from forgiving himself and others. With this mindset, sin plays its well-known role, in that it prevents us from healing and turning to Christ's love, which opens the doors to freedom. Here, we totally miss the concept of redemption. We allow a sin, a (sometimes single) action, to convince us we are not worth a full measure of love and forgiveness and again, we are separated from Christ.
So now school circle, around me. We have two viewings of our actions (sins), one of which tells us sin actually makes us better, stronger people in the long run, and one of which suggests we must always remember those sins because they were terrible and we shouldn't ever do them again. So now, enter Christ and enter redemption.
When we feel bad about the things we do, that's called conviction and it's God's way of exposing our shortcomings to us. What we fail to realize is when we claim responsibility for conquering sins, we don't really heal. We end up hardened and proud, rather than humbled by our faults. Christ, y'all, is the reason we can recognize those sins and grow, not out of those sins, but out of Christ's love. When we hold onto our sins because we feel guilty about letting them go, we miss redemption. Our Creator so longs for us to experience freedom from all that junk, he paid a huge price for it.
And please, for the love of all that is good, realize no amount of action, either good or bad, can get you into or out of Eternity. Actions of this world remain in this world. That change of heart, that conviction and mercy, is what gets us where we want to go. For those who have been judged by Christians for your lifestyle, your actions, or even rumors about your actions, I am so incredibly sorry. What's cool about Christ is the moment we truly recognize those sins before Him, he asks, "What sin," and moves forward.
Love keeps no record of wrongs. Your actions, both good and bad, hold no weight in your redemption. It's Christ's love, his heart, his sacrifice that justifies your salvation. So let's restructure our regret sentence with a little help.
"For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God" Romans 3:23
"He sent redemption to his people. He has commanded his covenant forever. Holy and awesome is His name!" Psalm 111:9
"He saved us, not because of works done by us in righteous, but according to his own mercy by the washing of regeneration and renewal of the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us richly through Jesus Christ our Savior." Titus 3:5-6
We all sin. God loves us and has promised redemption and he's good on his word. Nothing we can do can get us to Heaven or condemn us to Hell, because Jesus, quite literally, paid it all. Therefore, I know I have sinned, but God's love and forgiveness has helped me recognize it and through him, I have grown and learned to love. For you pessimists, this sounds like a too-good-to-be-true, give me a break, fantasy idea. That's the magnitude of it all. We (understandably) don't comprehend and can't conceptualize that kind of love and forgiveness. Take heart in the fact that we are not condemned to a life of regret, but we are welcomed to redemption and freedom in a full, joyous life God has for us.
Thursday, October 3, 2013
When I Get to Glory I'm Gonna...
Music. Luckily it's played a unique and significant role in my life for as long as I can remember. I remember sitting at the foot of Mom and Dad's bed while Dad played his guitar and sang (sometimes hilariously inappropriate) songs for Maggie and I. On the road to dance class, I heard everything from Classical to Country, Musicals and Big Band. I learned I wasn't worth my weight in gold unless I could pick out the whine of a fiddle and follow a lead whether it was a half- or two-step or a waltz.
I was reminded on Wednesday just how much music moves me. Wednesday's my day to tutor at Junction Christian Academy in Hobbs. I spend three hours with kiddos from K-4th grade and I only enjoy it so much because we're on the same level. So nice to finally find someone who shares my passion for "We Sing Silly Songs" and writing the alphabet...in print and cursive.
This week, I wrapped up the day with Mrs. June's 3rd grade class. After picking up rocks from the playground and using them to practice spelling words, we headed inside to sing a few songs. Mrs. June told me I could leave, but I told her I would be happy to hang out with the kids until they left for the day. The kids all looked up at the projector screen, waiting for Mrs. June to pick the song she wanted. A grainy YouTube video popped up, and I noticed the title: "Thank You Soldiers-Veteran's Day/Memorial Day Song." I thought, "Well, that's neat," as I smirked a little and waited for the music to play.
I would love to stop there and be able to say, "They sang, it was cute, we went home. Yay music," but as the song played and the kids started singing, the tears skipped the lump in my throat and went straight to my eyes.
"When I lay my head down at night, and go to sleep in peace, I can stay there knowing all is well knowing you're standing on your feet."
That's how the song starts and it's all downhill from there. Yes, it's corny. Yes, it's simple. Yes, some of the kids were picking their noses with the eraser end of a pencil. However, what was so cool was neither Mrs. June nor those kids know I am a Marine. I stood at the back of the room, my arms crossed, realizing those kids were saying, "Thank you," to all of my brothers and sisters. I found myself singing with them, thanking the ones who went before me and the ones who are with me now.
A lot of vets will tell you the only thing they want is some resemblance of gratitude. They don't necessarily need to be called out and thanked in public or recognized for a valiant achievement. Just show a little bit of grace and try to understand just how much so many of those men and women have given. My hope, and what moved me so much, was that song and how it might affect those kids. That song and those lyrics help them understand this country and the individuals who serve it are remarkable. Mrs. June probably won't ever read this, but I hope she knows how much I appreciate her for giving vets that honor, even it seems like a minimal gesture.
Then, last night when I went to pick up Dad, I found him at Uncle Tommy's house, strumming away at some classic favorites and some that are...only known in the Pearson circle. Uncle Tommy immediately made me a drink and I sat back, soaking up the words and the rhythms that have comforted me, made me laugh, and brought tears to my eyes for twenty-two years. We didn't care what time it was or how loud we were. We knew we were going to lose sleep, but I curled up in Uncle Tommy's denim jacket and refused to move. In that moment, we knew nothing could beat what the four of us had, because the songs held us together and we would have been foolish to let go too soon.
I was reminded on Wednesday just how much music moves me. Wednesday's my day to tutor at Junction Christian Academy in Hobbs. I spend three hours with kiddos from K-4th grade and I only enjoy it so much because we're on the same level. So nice to finally find someone who shares my passion for "We Sing Silly Songs" and writing the alphabet...in print and cursive.
This week, I wrapped up the day with Mrs. June's 3rd grade class. After picking up rocks from the playground and using them to practice spelling words, we headed inside to sing a few songs. Mrs. June told me I could leave, but I told her I would be happy to hang out with the kids until they left for the day. The kids all looked up at the projector screen, waiting for Mrs. June to pick the song she wanted. A grainy YouTube video popped up, and I noticed the title: "Thank You Soldiers-Veteran's Day/Memorial Day Song." I thought, "Well, that's neat," as I smirked a little and waited for the music to play.
I would love to stop there and be able to say, "They sang, it was cute, we went home. Yay music," but as the song played and the kids started singing, the tears skipped the lump in my throat and went straight to my eyes.
"When I lay my head down at night, and go to sleep in peace, I can stay there knowing all is well knowing you're standing on your feet."
That's how the song starts and it's all downhill from there. Yes, it's corny. Yes, it's simple. Yes, some of the kids were picking their noses with the eraser end of a pencil. However, what was so cool was neither Mrs. June nor those kids know I am a Marine. I stood at the back of the room, my arms crossed, realizing those kids were saying, "Thank you," to all of my brothers and sisters. I found myself singing with them, thanking the ones who went before me and the ones who are with me now.
A lot of vets will tell you the only thing they want is some resemblance of gratitude. They don't necessarily need to be called out and thanked in public or recognized for a valiant achievement. Just show a little bit of grace and try to understand just how much so many of those men and women have given. My hope, and what moved me so much, was that song and how it might affect those kids. That song and those lyrics help them understand this country and the individuals who serve it are remarkable. Mrs. June probably won't ever read this, but I hope she knows how much I appreciate her for giving vets that honor, even it seems like a minimal gesture.
Then, last night when I went to pick up Dad, I found him at Uncle Tommy's house, strumming away at some classic favorites and some that are...only known in the Pearson circle. Uncle Tommy immediately made me a drink and I sat back, soaking up the words and the rhythms that have comforted me, made me laugh, and brought tears to my eyes for twenty-two years. We didn't care what time it was or how loud we were. We knew we were going to lose sleep, but I curled up in Uncle Tommy's denim jacket and refused to move. In that moment, we knew nothing could beat what the four of us had, because the songs held us together and we would have been foolish to let go too soon.
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
Hear Ye Hear Ye
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Every time
I walk past my Ghee’s old straw hat, I wonder if he’d be proud of who I
am. That old hat sits on a horseshoe
hook in our utility room. It’s now
“mine” but in nine years, I’ve yet to wear it and Mom knows better than to try
to get rid of it. I don’t hang onto
much, but that hat ain’t goin’ nowhere.
Then
there’s Pappaw’s handful of coins that sit in a small box, tucked away in my
desk. When I open that box, I remember
him telling me stories about the places he’d been, even though I was too young
to appreciate any of it. That money’s
still good somewhere, but the thought that those coins meant something to
Pappaw makes me shut that lid and tuck the box away every time.
Gheegee, well, she kept a lot of…crap. However, she was right in thinking some of
the treasures she kept would mean something to some of us. We dug up a letter Dad wrote to the Easter
Bunny one of the first years Uncle Tommy was able to hunt eggs:
Dear Easter Bunny,
Please hide Tommy’s eggs on the east
side of the house. Hide mine on the west
side.
Love,
Clabe
That
letter, at one point in time, was trivial to everyone but Gheegee. She knew someday Dad would pick up that
letter and shake his head.
I think
about the things left to us by those who are no longer with us and it epitomizes one of my favorite sayings: "The best things in life aren't things." I am so often frustrated with how many
expensive, flashy things I think I must have because they add some aesthetic pleasure
to my life. In those moments, I fail to
recognize the things in my life that add value.
How much have I missed? What did
I miss out on learning?
Last week,
my precious Mammaw stayed with us and I got to drive her home one evening. As we drove, she reflected upon things she’d
done and experiences she’d had in the past.
She told me how, when she was in high school in Wink, Texas, if the
black kids wanted to go any further than junior high, they had to go to school
in Hobbs, NM (a 70 mile commute). I
asked her if, when she saw that happening, she knew it was wrong or if she
just accepted it as how life was.
“Oh no. I
knew it was wrong. I knew they didn’t
deserve to be treated like that,” her voice suddenly went soft, “You know, Jen,”
her voice now shook and tears started falling, “When Dr. King and all those
people marched in Washington, it just broke my heart that I couldn’t be there
with him.”
I forgot my pride as she and I cried together, relishing in the raw
compassion we shared in that moment. The conversation continued (as well as the tears) and that night, my life and my experience gained value. I could have easily turned on the radio and driven home to the music or NPR program I wanted to hear. We would have enjoyed each others' presence and life would be fine, but what would I have gained? The latest on Syria? Uncle Tupelo's latest single? That moment was like God saying, "Hey you. Selfish. Stop tuning out the important people and listen. You're gonna want to hear this."
Y'all these conversations and these moments of value don't have to come from your grandparents. They come from peers, parents, neighbors, children, and strangers. People. We've become so enamored with temporary fixes that we've forgotten what value the human experience has when it is shared in a deep, conversational, thoughtful manner. This is not one of those delete-all-social-media-and-move-to-Zimbabwe posts. Use Twitter. Use Facebook. Use Instagram. But y'all, give a damn. Liking, favoriting, and sharing something does not translate into genuine compassion and concern. If someone's on your mind, text them. Call them. Learn how to have a conversation again.
There are things that cost money and there are things with value. The moment I told my mom we needed to put down our phones and play Scrabble together; that was valuable. The conversation with Mammaw: valuable. The memories in Ghee's hat, Pappaw's coins, and Gheegee's letters: those are my treasures. Those memories are lessons. They're fears, temptations, and wrongdoings. They're victories, laughter, and love. Listen to 'em. They're worth hearing.
Tuesday, August 13, 2013
Word.
"We must be cognizant of our words and the realities they create."
Before I share the article from which this quote came, let me share a story with you. I preface it by saying I do not write this with the intent to belittle or condemn anyone. I want girls (and guys) to know they have someone to which they can relate and a truth in which they may take comfort.
I wasn't really a "cool" little kid. Even as I grew out of awkward years into high school, I was still a big nerd. But now...okay I'm still not a cool kid. Taller than everyone, couldn't do my hair, decided to wear heels to school (and didn't stop until the day I graduated), and just really painfully awkward. That was me going into 6th grade. It didn't help that I wanted to play football after lunch and had to have the best grades in every class. The girls didn't like me because I played sports with the guys and the guys didn't like me because I got better grades than them.
Let's stop for a second. Don't be under the illusion that I was hated by everyone. This is far from true. I had friends and I played sports so I was ultimately fine. Let's continue:
I got called everything from Suck Up to Little Miss Perfect, to "West Side" because my teeth were so crooked...I think I even got called a slut at one point in like 7th grade, but I'm chalking it up to someone not knowing what the word means. Hell even a ginormous mole on my back got a name (Charlie) which was, needless to say, mortifying. I only got knocked into a locker one time by an 8th grader, so I think I was lucky. However, there were kids being mocked and tormented, every day, because of who they were. Somewhere along the way, some 6th grader decided whoever his peer "was" wasn't good enough and everyone else decided to jump on the Bully Bandwagon. You know what's sad? That tends to stick with a person.
There for a few weeks, I came home either crying or royally ticked off, usually the latter. Mostly, I was confused. I didn't understand why people didn't like this person my parents worked so hard to help me be and who told me was wonderful. After my classmates and friends came together to sign a proclamation that I was the most selfish, attention-seeking, fake person they knew, I was convinced that who I'd been for my long life of 12 years was incredibly wrong. Soon enough, their harsh words had become my contorted reality.
Throughout the rest of junior high and into high school, I continued doing what I thought would make me successful, but I did it in ways that would make others like me, just to keep from having hate notes written about me again. It took me until all too-recently to stop believing those things I was told about myself. Turns out who I am is an okay person. I'm broken, lazy, silly, impatient, and thoughtless at times. However, I am also joyful, careful, hard-working, focused, and a beloved daughter of Christ. And you? You're beloved too. I didn't mention anything about being too big or small, too dark to to light. Who you are is not confined to what you see in the mirror.
One last thing before this must-read article:
The best thing you can do to become better than the rumors, better than the lies, and better than the unnecessarily harsh words is to forgive. Last thing you wanted to hear, I know, but it's incredibly freeing. Forgiveness doesn't have to be given out loud, person to person, but it is something you must do within your heart and mind. Don't get even with the "bad guy" by making public the ways in which they've wronged you. Zero progress. If you've screwed up, admit it, forgive yourself, and move forward. Evil is a fire...don't allow your retaliation to be the fuel. Sometimes hurt comes from a malicious enemy and sometimes it comes, very painfully, from a dear friend, but it will come. I was lucky enough to have a family who told me from day one that I was made for a purpose and confident, faithful pursuit of that purpose would lead to fullness. If you don't have that same support, please hear it from me. Only you can determine how to handle lies, truths, and other words used against you. Be responsible, but stand up for yourself when you must. I let people tell me lies about myself until I believed them. Beloved child of God, certainly you will be tempted and you will screw up, but take confidence in who you are and refuse to let their hateful words become your reality.
http://www.relevantmagazine.com/god/deeper-walk/blog/1478-more-than-sticks-and-stones
Before I share the article from which this quote came, let me share a story with you. I preface it by saying I do not write this with the intent to belittle or condemn anyone. I want girls (and guys) to know they have someone to which they can relate and a truth in which they may take comfort.
I wasn't really a "cool" little kid. Even as I grew out of awkward years into high school, I was still a big nerd. But now...okay I'm still not a cool kid. Taller than everyone, couldn't do my hair, decided to wear heels to school (and didn't stop until the day I graduated), and just really painfully awkward. That was me going into 6th grade. It didn't help that I wanted to play football after lunch and had to have the best grades in every class. The girls didn't like me because I played sports with the guys and the guys didn't like me because I got better grades than them.
Let's stop for a second. Don't be under the illusion that I was hated by everyone. This is far from true. I had friends and I played sports so I was ultimately fine. Let's continue:
I got called everything from Suck Up to Little Miss Perfect, to "West Side" because my teeth were so crooked...I think I even got called a slut at one point in like 7th grade, but I'm chalking it up to someone not knowing what the word means. Hell even a ginormous mole on my back got a name (Charlie) which was, needless to say, mortifying. I only got knocked into a locker one time by an 8th grader, so I think I was lucky. However, there were kids being mocked and tormented, every day, because of who they were. Somewhere along the way, some 6th grader decided whoever his peer "was" wasn't good enough and everyone else decided to jump on the Bully Bandwagon. You know what's sad? That tends to stick with a person.
There for a few weeks, I came home either crying or royally ticked off, usually the latter. Mostly, I was confused. I didn't understand why people didn't like this person my parents worked so hard to help me be and who told me was wonderful. After my classmates and friends came together to sign a proclamation that I was the most selfish, attention-seeking, fake person they knew, I was convinced that who I'd been for my long life of 12 years was incredibly wrong. Soon enough, their harsh words had become my contorted reality.
Throughout the rest of junior high and into high school, I continued doing what I thought would make me successful, but I did it in ways that would make others like me, just to keep from having hate notes written about me again. It took me until all too-recently to stop believing those things I was told about myself. Turns out who I am is an okay person. I'm broken, lazy, silly, impatient, and thoughtless at times. However, I am also joyful, careful, hard-working, focused, and a beloved daughter of Christ. And you? You're beloved too. I didn't mention anything about being too big or small, too dark to to light. Who you are is not confined to what you see in the mirror.
One last thing before this must-read article:
The best thing you can do to become better than the rumors, better than the lies, and better than the unnecessarily harsh words is to forgive. Last thing you wanted to hear, I know, but it's incredibly freeing. Forgiveness doesn't have to be given out loud, person to person, but it is something you must do within your heart and mind. Don't get even with the "bad guy" by making public the ways in which they've wronged you. Zero progress. If you've screwed up, admit it, forgive yourself, and move forward. Evil is a fire...don't allow your retaliation to be the fuel. Sometimes hurt comes from a malicious enemy and sometimes it comes, very painfully, from a dear friend, but it will come. I was lucky enough to have a family who told me from day one that I was made for a purpose and confident, faithful pursuit of that purpose would lead to fullness. If you don't have that same support, please hear it from me. Only you can determine how to handle lies, truths, and other words used against you. Be responsible, but stand up for yourself when you must. I let people tell me lies about myself until I believed them. Beloved child of God, certainly you will be tempted and you will screw up, but take confidence in who you are and refuse to let their hateful words become your reality.
http://www.relevantmagazine.com/god/deeper-walk/blog/1478-more-than-sticks-and-stones
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
Ta Fuerte
Ever had one of those moments where God just slaps you in the face? Well, He was so kind to do that to me today. First, lemme explain how we're building the houses we're building. The walls are made of concrete, set into different size slabs and held in position with sheet metal frames. The biggest slabs are 3x3 foot slabs that each weigh 190 pounds. You lift these slabs by hand in order to set them into place, sometimes 10 feet up. Needless to say, the work is tasking but watching the guys who build those houses every day is like watching a surgeon flawlessly maneuver his way around the operating table.
Before we started working today, I prayed genuinely that God would make me strong for the task until it was completed. Piece by piece, with the supervision and help of the experts, we helped each other build the house as best we could.
Enter God. Preface: For as far back as when I was a 10 year-old ballerina, I remember hating the way I looked compared to all the other girls. I was bigger, but not necessarily fatter than them. I had no idea why my shoulders were so broad and I could flex my muscles like my cousin Kris. Okay, maybe that's a bit over the top but really, I learned from a very early age that something was wrong with my body. That struggle has since plagued my confidence and bound me in the chains of captivity that Jesus unshackled centuries ago. Thankfully I've grown, but that struggle still exists.
I was doing my best to lift the slabs and guide them into the frames without royally screwing up, which I do so well. As I'm working, one of the supervisors, who doesn't speak a lick of English, says to me, "God has blessed you with incredible strength."
Me? I'm just doing what Dad always told me: work hard, pay attention, get out of the way if you have to. Simple, right? But no, this guy turned the same thing I have hated about myself for so long into a gift from God. Woah.
At the end of the day, I drove one final blow to a nail to finish a post for the front porch of the house. Antonio looked at me, smiled, and held out his hand for a shake. "Thank you," he turned to his friend who had just arrived, "she worked a lot today." He made me reflect on the hate I've showed myself for years. The same body I hate looking at has carried me through years of ranch work, multiple high school and college sports, Marine Corps OCS, and now building concrete houses in the middle of the beaming Domincan Republic heat.
Whatever your struggle is, I encourage you to turn it into a blessing. It was so cool to witness various volunteers playing with the kiddos, chatting with the locals, and building alongside me. Just because you don't have her body, his looks, her wit, or his smarts doesn't mean there's something wrong with you. Don't get me wrong, we are all flawed and don't necessarily deserve grace, but it's been freely given to us anyway. What better way to work on those flaws than to give them up to Christ and turn around the struggle?
Yeah, it might've seemed like a slap to me, but God gracefully showed me how precious and unique he makes his children. Blessings are apparent in any language. Love y'all...so much!
The site in its early stages:
A finished home:
Before...dirt floor, walls made of leaves, wood chips, mud, and animal manure, which easily washes away in a big storm.
Friday, May 31, 2013
Honorable Serivce?
Well, it's the eve of Commissioning. That's all I have to say about that.
But really, I just thought I'd make something crystal clear. There have been quite a few people suggest joining the military is something we choose to do as a last resort. Couldn't find anything else to do, so just went and joined the Marines/Army/Air Force/Navy/Coast Guard. This idea is laughable, to say the least.
The first thing you have to know is some of the most inspiring, driven and intelligent individuals I've come across are members of our armed forces. They have chosen to serve, not because they cannot find anything else to do with life, but because they realize the honor that accompanies service. Various branches of our military provide the opportunities young men and women crave that cannot be found in any other occupation.
As for me and my decision, it is not a "way out" for me. Service through the Marine Corps is something I've dreamed of for years. Now I have that opportunity, and I've chosen to take it on with full force. Christ calls us to be disciples in so many different ways and this just happens to be mine.
Next time you catch yourself or someone else speaking with hesitation about mine and so many others' decision to join the military, please stop. Provide for us, an honorable place to remain and a welcome place to which we may return when our time in service is complete.
S/F
But really, I just thought I'd make something crystal clear. There have been quite a few people suggest joining the military is something we choose to do as a last resort. Couldn't find anything else to do, so just went and joined the Marines/Army/Air Force/Navy/Coast Guard. This idea is laughable, to say the least.
The first thing you have to know is some of the most inspiring, driven and intelligent individuals I've come across are members of our armed forces. They have chosen to serve, not because they cannot find anything else to do with life, but because they realize the honor that accompanies service. Various branches of our military provide the opportunities young men and women crave that cannot be found in any other occupation.
As for me and my decision, it is not a "way out" for me. Service through the Marine Corps is something I've dreamed of for years. Now I have that opportunity, and I've chosen to take it on with full force. Christ calls us to be disciples in so many different ways and this just happens to be mine.
Next time you catch yourself or someone else speaking with hesitation about mine and so many others' decision to join the military, please stop. Provide for us, an honorable place to remain and a welcome place to which we may return when our time in service is complete.
S/F
Sunday, February 17, 2013
Just Like Old Times
Every so often, I feel like it's necessary to just reemphasize how much I love the ranch and how I grew up. My grandma wrote this brief little piece about the San Simon and how it came to be:
http://genealogytrails.com/newmex/lea/san_simon_ranch.htm
Just thinking about how hard my great-great-great-grandpa worked to make a living motivates me every day. I can't imagine life without the ranch and I pray nothing ever happens to it. Living on the ranch taught me how to work, how to treat people, and how to love life. It's a way of living that I demand for my own kids and wish everyone knew.
Someday it will be a whole lot to ask of someone to give up whatever they have and move to the ranch with me, but I know it'll be more than worth it. As much as my dad grumbles and complains about cattle and dealing with the oilfield, we all know deep down how much he loves his life and wouldn't trade his simple way of living with my mom for the world.
If I could talk to him today, I'd thank Mr. CW for giving his family something that is now so unique and so different from most of the world. When I was little, I used to cover my ears when we branded and cry about hearing "the baby cows cry." Now, that'd be a welcome sound for these ears! It's funny to think how much I used to hate the early mornings, the dust, and the constant 60 mph wind. Now, all those things are all part of home and home is very, very good.
http://genealogytrails.com/newmex/lea/san_simon_ranch.htm
Just thinking about how hard my great-great-great-grandpa worked to make a living motivates me every day. I can't imagine life without the ranch and I pray nothing ever happens to it. Living on the ranch taught me how to work, how to treat people, and how to love life. It's a way of living that I demand for my own kids and wish everyone knew.
Someday it will be a whole lot to ask of someone to give up whatever they have and move to the ranch with me, but I know it'll be more than worth it. As much as my dad grumbles and complains about cattle and dealing with the oilfield, we all know deep down how much he loves his life and wouldn't trade his simple way of living with my mom for the world.
If I could talk to him today, I'd thank Mr. CW for giving his family something that is now so unique and so different from most of the world. When I was little, I used to cover my ears when we branded and cry about hearing "the baby cows cry." Now, that'd be a welcome sound for these ears! It's funny to think how much I used to hate the early mornings, the dust, and the constant 60 mph wind. Now, all those things are all part of home and home is very, very good.
Sunday, February 10, 2013
Revenge
Taking a break from my story. Let's just start out with this:
"I urge you, walk in a manner that is worthy of the calling to which you have been called...Therefore, having put away falsehood, let each one of you speak the truth with his neighbor, for we are members one of another. Be angry and do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger, and give no opportunity to the devil. Let the thief no longer steal, but rather let him labor, doing honest work with his own hands, so that he may have something to share with anyone in need. Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear. And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, by whom you were sealed for the day of redemption. Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice. Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you."
That's Ephesians 4:1, 25-32. This verse has served as a reminder for me to not allow things that happened in my past still be on my mind torturing me today. It's so easy to claim you have the "upper hand" on someone because you may have done the right thing in one moment. Likewise, it's really easy for me (and I'm sure lots others) to allow one mistake to take hold and convince me that I'm a bad person. However, dwelling on either of those thoughts does nothing to help us build up each other as we're so earnestly called to do.
Hell, look at all the positive this verse contains:
- Don't give the devil a chance
- Turn the sinful life around
- Be positive, don't gossip (can I get an amen?)
- Get over it
- Love each other
I'm nowhere near being the "good" person I'm supposed to be, but I'm so thankful for lessons like this that give me confidence to keep on keepin' on. Happy Sunday!
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