There are times when it is good to be a Martha...

...and one of those times would be the summer you decide to plan a wedding in four months. Well, not that others haven't planned a wedding in less than four months, certainly, but then I also leave for Europe in a week, and so will lose a good three weeks of planning time. I return from vacation exactly three months before my wedding date, and in the world of modern wedding planning, that is not considered a lot of time.

But, that is okay, because planning and problem-solving is my forte. I'm a get-er-done kinda gal, and while other girls might just be coming out of their post-proposal fog and wondering what to do next, I'm already deep in the thick of the wedding to-do list. Now, this in no way means that I am not enjoying the bliss of engagement. Believe me, I am still on cloud nine, and every now and then I look down at the gorgeous ring on my finger and I say to God, "REALLY?!?" I still get comments on my glow, and my cheeks are regularly sore from smiling so much. Actually, I think it is my overwhelming happiness and joy that is spurring the frenzy of activity-I'm just so darned excited to marry this man, and I want to get on with it!

So, we have set a date in October and booked the church and the reception location. I have all 6 bridesmaids signed up and ready to go and looking at dress options. Colors are chosen, guest list is started, meeting with potential photographer is Saturday. We've talked about food and flowers and we've definitely decided that we have to have cheesecake for our wedding cake. So while wedding planning is typically stressful, especially when done in a short period of time, I am feeling pretty good about it.

But ask me at the beginning of October, and I might look more like the frazzled Martha that Jesus had to calm down! Fortunately Jer is good at that. :-)

It's a Sparkly!

Well dear reader, the day has finally come. After years of writing about relational angst and waiting on God, I can now tell you: I'M ENGAGED!!!

Sunday afternoon I drove home from the Quest Life Together retreat, my last responsibility as ministry leader. It had been a great weekend, but the entire time I had been excited for Sunday, because Jer told me that we were going "out on the town" and I had to "dress fancy" and that we had to be on time. This limited amount of information was enough to make me and everyone else wonder if perhaps this would be the day that he proposed. (Sandy was taking bets-Blake put $20 on Jer proposing. Not sure what the odds were.) But I kept reminding all of us, especially myself, that one should not place expectations on the date, because then there will be no disappointments. You know, of course, that I wanted to be proposed to, but I was also not making any demands on the evening.

So I drove home excited and hopeful but willing for it to be just a great night with Jer. I poured myself into my little black dress, slipped on my fabulous purple heels, and waited for him to arrive. He was going to show up at 4:15; at about five after I headed upstairs to take one last look at myself in the full-length mirror, just to make sure. On my way through the living room, I looked outside and saw a limo on my street. A smile crept over my face and my heart started to race just a tad-I knew that there was no way that limo was for anyone else. I came out on the deck and there was Jer, with a huge bouquet of roses and irises (my favorite) and a big smile.

After the flowers were put in water and I had given Jer his card and gift (a picture of us for his desk at work) we got into the limo. Champagne was served, and the driver told us she would take us on a 'scenic route' to our destination. Jer said that we were going to dinner and a show, which sounded fabulous to me. And then he pulled out a box of Godiva chocolates. We have a long history with Godiva chocolates and Godiva chocolate cheesecake, so this was very apropos. There was a poem on top-he's given me a poem every month-but the lid was slightly askew, so he took a minute to "fix the chocolates". As he sat there with the box partially hidden, I started to think, oh oh oh, there's a ring in the box! There's a ring in the box! But of course, I remained calm, waited for him to finish, read the poem (which I can't remember now, it was something by Shelley about love) and then opened the box. And there in the center was the most beautiful ring! I got a big smile, and looked into his wonderful eyes, and he simply said, "marry me."

And I, of course, said yes.

We didn't cry, we were too giddy and excited. He put the ring on my finger and kissed me and I was just overwhelemed with joy and happiness. Our scenic drive ended in front of Teatro Zinzanni, the fun and wacky dinner theatre. We enjoyed the show and the meal and the wine, and the limo picked us up afterwards and took us for a drive along Alki and up to the lookout on the top of West Seattle, where we enjoyed the view of the city and the promise of a long life together there. It was a perfect evening, a wonderful proposal. He spoiled me, surprised me, and gave me a great story to tell our kids.

I am, understandably, very excited. Overwhelmingly so. I don't know if I have come down to earth quite yet. But in the midst of this ecstatic moment, I have a deep peace and confidence that this was (and is) how it was meant to be. Meeting this wonderful man out of the blue, being instantly swept up in what my mom is now referring to as "my whirlwind romance", and finding the man who will love me for the rest of my days, a man I can give my heart to with no reservations.

As I reflect on all of this, my heart and mind are full of all the verses and promises that God has given me over the past few years, and how He has been true to all of those words He gave me. The Lord has done a new thing; He has made streams of living water flow in the wilderness. He has brought me back from being rejected and broken in spirit. He has turned my mourning into dancing and my sorrows into joy. He has been faithful and has blessed me beyond anything I could have possibly imagined. And so I will sing and praise His holy and mighty name.

I'm getting married! Hallelujah!

Prayer for Pentecost

I was going to post my prayer from Pentecost service last night, but it seems all the more applicable after reading about the murder of Dr. George Tiller at his church yesterday.

Dr. Tiller ran an abortion clinic, where he specialized in late-term abortions. Now, anyone who knows me knows that I am passionately pro-life. I believe abortion is wrong, that it is the taking of an innocent life, and that it can only be considered in cases where carrying the baby to term will kill both mother and child. I will not vote for a pro-choice candidate. I would love to volunteer or work for a crisis pregnancy center sometime in the future, and I would love to see the church provide more love and care for unwed mothers who feel trapped without any other option.

However, I am sickened to read this story of a man murdered as he performed his duties as an usher at his church on Sunday. Perhaps the murderer thought he was saving lives, perhaps he thought he was enacting justice. But the way I read it, vengeance is the Lord's, and we cannot judge a man's heart. George Tiller will stand before Jesus in judgement for all his sins-just as you and I will-and the Lord will be the one who determines his guilt.

Sadly, by taking matters into his own hands, the murderer not only makes himself no better than this doctor (perhaps worse) but ruins the witness of pro-life advocates everywhere. Leading pro-life advocates are speaking out against the crime, but the damage is done.

I am anti-abortion, but I am also anti-murder. I am pro-life, not just for innocent babies, but for broken, fallen, guilty men and women like you and me, who need Jesus, not a bullet. And so I pray, today, as I did yesterday:

God,
Your faithfulness is beyond measure
Your mercies
new every morning
Your lovingkindness
knows no bounds

Give us Your faithfulness,
Your mercy
Your love

That we could be Your Body
in a broken world.

Bedrest

This may not be the most coherent post, as I am currently on narcotic painkillers. Why, you ask? Well, because I have mono. Yes, that mono. No, it's not because of the kissing-my boyfriend doesn't have it, and since he's the only guy I have ever kissed in my life, I think I must have gotten it some other way. No idea how, or where, or when (mono can take 1-2 months to show up after you have been exposed). But instead of a fully enjoyable weekend of visiting friends and family functions, I spent Memorial Day at the ER with a 103 fever and a throat so swollen I could barely swallow. But two liters of IV fluid and a whole lot of drugs made me feel much better.

But now I am stuck at home on bedrest for the week. No work, no heavy lifting-pretty much no physical exercise at all, because mono can cause your spleen to enlarge (along with all the other glands in your body) and then if you overexert yourself you can rupture said spleen, and that is BAD. Mono can take weeks to recover from, and you have to get lots of rest at the beginning or it will drag on forever. So here I am in my room, trying to a) not infect anyone else and b) not go insane.

I am a doer. Always have been. I admit that this tendency leads to overworking myself, and when that happens, I do tend to come down with colds and flus and infections. So I shouldn't be surprised that my body has rebelled and given me the worst of all possible viruses in order to get me to stop overbooking my life. This seems an extreme remedy to me though. Wouldn't a simple head cold or a case of strep have been enough?

Probably not. I have too much going on: finishing up c group, planning for the life together retreat, leading worship, family coming into town, and trying to find time to spend with my boyfriend and other friends. Oh, and time to spend with God. That would be good too.

So, I guess this week is a good reminder to slow down, prioritize, stop overcommitting, and get good rest. Now if I can just get better before June, because I have a ton of things to do then...

I know, I know. I'll take it easy.

What a difference a day (or seven weeks) makes...

Haven't been blogging much lately. Been too busy getting to know this fabulous guy named Jeremy.

But today I found out that the site filters at LUBI are no longer blocking my blog, so I can write on my lunch hour. This bodes well for more frequent updates.

So, first update would have to be on the relationship status, I suppose. Facebook friends have seen the constant stream of "I'm incandescently happy" status updates and some Superpoke PDA, but what is really going on?

Well, I am in love. Really, truly, in love, beyond anything I have ever known before.

I was chatting with my college roommate Hilary, who married the love of her life three years ago this month, about how she felt when she fell in love with her husband. She said that all of her preconceived notions about what she wanted in a guy were dashed when she met Jon. She didn't know that there was a man like him, that guys like him existed. If she had known, then he is exactly what she would have wished for. He is everything she never knew she wanted or needed.

And that is how I feel about Jer. I'm constantly amazed at the ways that we fit together, the things about him that make him just perfect for me. He is kind, generous, intelligent, and outgoing. He is young at heart but not immature, hilarious and fun-loving but not irresponsible. We share viewpoints on politics, religion, money, childrearing, and a whole host of other important and unimportant topics, including the crucial one: a mutual love of science fiction. We are both very different and very much the same, complementing each other and finding acres and acres of common ground. He makes me laugh, he makes me smile, and he makes me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.

But beyond the personality and compatibility questions, the most important thing is that he loves Jesus more than anyone or anything in the whole entire world. When he talks about God or Scripture or the Holy Spirit, he comes alive, and I realize that the most attractive thing about a guy is his commitment to being a disciple of Christ.

So, all that to say, things are going very well. I'm still amazed at how God works. I was perusing some old blog posts and journal entries and found myself bowled over by how God has been leading me on the path to meet this man. Two years ago in my quiet times with God I started to get these verses in Isaiah about change, about the Lord doing new things, about streams in the wilderness. Since then I've experienced a lot of growth and healing, including the amazing reconciliations of last year. I've been finding out what it means to be me and pursuing freedom from the anxiety that has plagued me for years and this past Lent came to a real place of contentment and stillness before God. This journey has brought me to a place where I feel the most at peace, the most myself, than I have ever felt.

I've always been told that God doesn't bring you the man of your dreams until you are first at peace with yourself and being single. I always laughed and said that I would never be able to give up that desire for a relationship, would never be okay with being single, so God must have a different plan for me. But apparently I was wrong. Because back there in March I literally wrote in my journal that I wanted nothing but God's will, that my hope was in God and not in the fulfillment of my dreams, that Jesus was more than enough. I wrote that I would be still and know that He is God.

And less than a week later, He introduced me to Jer.

I never gave up my desires and dreams, but I learned to let God hold them, and to live in contentment. I still love the definition of contentment that Dr. Spencer shared at last year's Life Together retreat: "contentment is the hope that frees us to live an unsatisfied life in a satisfying way." Finding that place of contentment is kind of like pursuing humility: you can't really try for it, you just have to live it. You have to focus on God more than anything else and allow Him to change your heart. You'll never be okay with being single by trying to be okay being single. Trust me, I tried. The only prayer that works is that of the father in Mark 9:24: "I believe, help my unbelief!"

I prayed that prayer, and He was faithful.

Even in the midst of this amazing blessing, I realize that life is still life, and there will be many times in the future when I will have to pray that prayer again and again and remind myself that God's faithfulness and love know no bounds. But for now, in this season, I will continue to update my status with statements like, "Rebecca is amazed at the goodness of God and the awesomeness of her boyfriend."

Groan as much as you want, you can't steal my happiness!

God Loves Surprises

Lent is coming to a close, and as we celebrate Passover and Good Friday, in preparation for Easter Sunday, I am reflecting on how much my life has changed in these 40 days.

I could not have guessed on Ash Wednesday, way back there in February, that these weeks would bring me such blessing. I knew that God was up to something, and that the call I felt to observe a strict fast and really make time for Him during the season was important. It wasn't just some whim, but a real conviction that God was asking me to go deep with Him and wait in hope for Him.

Hope seemed to be the theme-putting aside false hopes, learning to allow myself to experience the bittersweet pain of unrealized hope, and ultimately remembering that my hope must be in the Giver of blessings and not in the blessings or the methods He uses. In the midst of giving up certain foods and ways of spending my time, I found myself being able to also give up some of my fear, my disbelief, and my inability to trust. I experienced a lot of joy and peace as I spent time in prayer and worship and had encouraging talks with friends about how good our God is. The Spirit worked in my heart and drew me closer to God than I had been in months, and I found that for perhaps the first time, I was really learning how to be still and know that He is God.


But none of this prepared me for the surprise that God had waiting for me.


His name is Jeremy.

Faithfulness

I remember my affliction and my wandering,
the bitterness and the gall.
I well remember them,
and my soul is downcast within me.
Yet this I call to mind
and therefore I have hope:
Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
I say to myself, "The LORD is my portion;
therefore I will wait for him."
The LORD is good to those whose hope is in him,
to the one who seeks him;
it is good to wait quietly
for the salvation of the LORD.

~Lamentations 3:19-26

My heart is so full right now I can't even tell you. The last month has been incredible, and last night...well, that is another blog post.

But for right now, I can tell you, that God is faithful. So incredibly faithful. And I know that I knew that He was faithful, but every now and then, when you get a taste of the blessings, when it is just staring you in the face, and you realize that He was planning this all along, that He had this trick up His sleeve, that all those nights when you were alone and frustrated and asking God why and how long, He knew, and He was just waiting with delicious anticipation to bring you a bit of goodness here on this earth in this life, well, that just blows you away.

Mourning

Saturday night I was at the Life Together fellowship night, laughing and eating and rejoicing that everything was going so well. It was a fantastic event-tons of new people came out, everyone had a great time, ate lots of food, played lots of games. Best of all, the main reason that the event went well is because now I have a full team of Questers helping to make everything happen. There is a new group of folks who have joined the ministry team in the past month, and along with a couple of dedicated team alums we are planning a good list of events (including our annual retreat!) and I am really excited to see where the ministry will go, especially since I plan to step down from the ministry leader role this August.

In the midst of this fun night, Pastor Eugene showed up and crashed the party. We always give PE a hard time when he comes by Life Together events, because the ministry is supposed to be for post-college/pre-family Questers, which is definitely not PE's demographic.
He joked around a little with folks, but when I went to go talk to him, he told me why he had been in the neighborhood. He told me that he had been called to Craig Wong's home, because the battle with cancer was not going well, and Craig was expected to pass away that night or the next day.

When he said that, it all came rushing back. The times in the hospital, seeing my grandma fight the cancer that stole her life. The phone call from my mom on a Sunday night after church telling me that my grandma was nearing the end. Breaking down on the phone with a friend as I couldn't handle the sorrow that immediately began to set in. Waiting anxiously at work the next morning for word. The feeling in my stomach when the phone rang, and I knew, even before I picked it up, that she was gone.

After PE left and I sat down to play some Bible Scattergories with friends, I was able to enjoy the rest of the evening, but my spirit was praying. Praying for Craig, that his passing would be peaceful and he would be safe in his Savior's arms. Praying for Craig's wife Betty, who is experiencing one of the hardest things a person can feel in this life. Praying for my mother, still grieving my grandma's passing and trying to deal with all the decisions and details about estates and wills and houses that are overwhelming her. Praying that someday cancer will no longer have the power to take our loved ones away. Praying that in the midst of this sorrow, there would be a way for us to see how God will work all things together for good.

Sunday at church we all heard the news: Craig had finished this life and had gone home. We prayed and we worshipped, and as we sang, I cried, for Craig and Betty, for their young children, who like me will grow up not knowing a parent, for my grandma, for all those who have lost someone to cancer. We mourn with those who mourn, and our sorrows expand our hearts so that we can carry the burden of others' sorrows. But the Spirit gives us gladness for our mourning, as we seek Him, as we bring our broken hearts and lay them at His feet. And so the last song we sang became the cry of my heart, the cry of all of us who have loved and lost:

God will you make us
A people that love You
Please take our offerings
That we set before You
God hear our prayers
That we're lifting up to You
God see our tears
That we're struggling to see through
God, hear our prayers to You

Status Updates

I love technology. Yes, I am a romantic, and I love to read old novels and light candles and all of that, and am not very handy with technological gidgets and widgets. But I greatly appreciate computers and highspeed internet access. While my eyes might glaze over after about 30 seconds whenever my geek friends start spewing technobabble, I love them and love that when I am faced with the blue screen of death, I have someone to call. I should probably figure out how to take care of my own laptop, but when some of your best guy friends are IT nerds, why bother?

I'm a devoted fan of Gmail. I don't know how I ever lived before I switched. The chatting, the way it is organized in conversations, the usefulness of google docs and google calendar and google reader and google groups. I could go on forever. I get to work and sign into my gmail, and although my "draconian" company blocks gchat as well as all social networking sites (I actually had a friend use that adjective after learning I was being blocked from gchat. Love it) I spend all day with my gmail up, ready to respond to any email you might send me. I love social networking sites, and would spend all day updating my Twitter status if it wasn't for this virtual wall that the Large Unnamed Banking Institution has constructed. I guess that is a good thing, since I should be working!

Since gchat is blocked, I subvert that by sending countless emails throughout the day, mostly to my friend the Kiwi. We have literally sent thousands of emails over the past year. I searched for her name (another fabulous benefit of gmail) and found 502 conversations. Some of our conversations have actually been longer than the gmail limit of 100 messages. Even at an average of 30 messages a conversation (which is not a stretch: as I write this, we are on a 52 message conversation) that's 15,000 emails. As the Kiwi would say, booyah!

But the biggest and best is, of course, Facebook. The status updates, the links, the notes, the applications. Especially superpoke. I mean, where else do you get to take sexy back from your roommate and then throw a sheep at a friend after having a conversation about the old pc game Worms? You can have an impromptu dance party in your kitchen and ten minutes later the photos are uploaded and you are making funny comments on them. Too much fun.

I love reading other people's status updates and laughing at their witty notes. And I will admit to spending too much time thinking of clever updates to my status. But as fun as it is, sometimes status updates are insufficient to explain how you are feeling.

I ran into that last night. I had just gotten home from visiting my friend and former co-leader's C group, where we ate and laughed and talked about Passover and communion and messianic prophecy. I was reflecting on the good friends that are in that group and the awesome lunch I had enjoyed with one of them the day before, as well as my own C group and the faithful people who come and share their hearts and lives with me. I was meditating on Lent and the peace that I have been feeling the last week but also the awareness of my own sin and sorrow. I was overcome by the goodness and mercy of God, that He chose to be that Passover lamb for us, that He was pierced for our transgressions, that by the stripes on His back I am healed.

I kept changing my status. Rebecca has a full heart. No, what kind of status is that. Full of what? Rebecca is grateful. Well, yes, but that's not enough of a word. Rebecca is thinking about how blessed she is. Well, but I am also thinking about what a sinner I am, and the dark places in my life right now, and while I am blessed in spite of all that, you need more explanation.

So what did I settle on? Rebecca can't come up with a status message that explains how she is feeling. As great as all this technology is, there is no way to summarize a heart overcome by a jumble of peace, joy, pain, absolute fulfillment and unrequited love, contentment and frustration, faith and faithlessness.

This is why as great as it is to buy you a drink on superpoke (it's free, and there are no side effects!) I would much rather enjoy a meal or drink with you in person, and share what God is doing, face to face.

Lenten Discipline

Today's lenten devotional from Henri J. M. Nouwen:

"Discipline is the creation of boundaries that keep time and space open for God--a time and a place where God's gracious presence can be acknowledge and responded to."

The practice of giving up things for Lent has become something of a fad in the evangelical church. We give up chocolate, give up TV, facebook, whatever modern convenience or minor vice that you can live without, and say that it is given up for God. But is saying no to your daily doughnut helping your spirit, or merely your body?

Yes, body, soul, and spirit are all part of your being, and should be cared for and disciplined equally. But it is too easy to give up a little something and miss the entire point of Lent. Lent is supposed to be about repentance, cleansing, and identification with suffering. It is also a time where we put aside worldly things so that we can focus on spiritual things. Giving up physical things like food is supposed to point us back to Christ and the cross, to His time in the desert, his struggle in the garden. Whatever it is that we give up, we are supposed to use it as a way to bring us into prayer and repentance. It is only a season, but it should be a season that changes us and causes us to grow for the long-term.

I'm giving up a lot for Lent--in my diet, my spending, my habits. It's been quite awhile since I did anything more than give up chocolate or some other small thing. I've chosen to go with a very strict Lenten discipline this year because in my crazy overpacked schedule I feel I have lost the discipline that makes time for God. I used to be a much more disciplined person, but lately the ups and downs of life have pulled me away from that. I turn to food as a way to deal with emotions, I don't get enough rest, I obsess over how I am perceived by others. I get tired and emotional and don't turn to God for my joy and contentment. These are things I need to repent from.

I also tend to say yes to everything, to always be the first (and last) one at the party or on the list to help. While my motivations are usually good, this habit can be just as bad for my spiritual health. For me, this Lent is a time to remind my Martha self that in my desire to serve the people of Christ, I mustn't miss out on the most important thing: Christ Himself.

My mom told me a long time ago that when you are fasting, every time you find yourself desiring the thing you are fasting from is an opportunity to pray. So in saying no to a few things, I hope to be reminding myself to always be making a place for God to speak into my life, and I hope that this discipline will be something that continues long after I start saying yes to chocolate again.

Drawbridge

He pulls up to the bridge, the lights flashing, metal separating as the boat slowly glides underneath. Other men stop and get out for a smoke, but his mind is on the passenger in the backseat. Quickly jerking the emergency brake into place, he dashes out of his seat and around to the rear passenger door. Throwing it open, he unbackles the carseat and lifts his son into the air. "Look!" he says, "that's a drawbridge!" His son beams and gestures wildly at the new excitement. He can't help but smile back, and as his father heart warms at the joy in his son's eyes, he gives him a kiss on the cheek and thinks to himself, "this is what life is all about."

~~(quickly) written on the First Avenue bridge, as I watched the scene unfold.

Letting Go What You Are Not

Look in
and see him looking out
He is not always
quiet, but there have been times
when happiness has come
to him, unasked,
like the stillness on the water
that holds the evening clear
while it subsides
-and he let go
what he was not.

~~Wendell Berry, Window Poems #5

Yesterday was a good day. I woke up early for no apparent reason, was super productive and happily domestic in the morning, cooking and cleaning and enjoying my house. Spent a few hours helping a friend pack and move, and we had a great talk about life and vision and calling in a cafe with the sunshine streaming in the window. Spent a few precious minutes at my new favorite park. Wandered around Ballard on an artwalk that ended up being more walking than art, but the friends made it fun. And then had the friends over to my house for food and drink and board games. All-around awesome.

And I enjoyed every minute of it. There was a moment, a moment when one of those old lies tried to come and tell me that I was not wanted, that the party that I was hosting could go on without me and no one would notice. I've heard this lie in my head for years and years. But I looked it in the face and I told it, "yes, you're right. The party can go on without me. But they would notice. And even if they don't notice, it doesn't mean I am not wanted. I put the party together, and they are having fun. But they don't just want me for what I do, but for who I am. They want me to be with them. So I am going back up there and I'm going to enjoy myself."

And I was right. They wanted me and I enjoyed myself. So that's one more lie, one more thing that I am not, that I will put behind me. When that lie tries again, I will remind it of that night, and I will live in the truth.

It was Valentine's Day. And while there was no romance, there was love, and I was not unwanted.

Truth/Beauty

Living in truth
is too hard some days
the lies are like
comfy old sweats-
you know you look horrible,
but it's easier
than trying to be beautiful

and though He gives beauty
for ashes
I sometimes crumble
in the dust of my dreams
(the ones based on false hopes)
and I ask 'why?' and
'how long?'

even though I could stand up
and be cleansed
and the truth
could set me free

Faith And Economics

For those who came out today to my mini-session on credit and debt, and those who missed it, here is the powerpoint presentation. Feel free to ask further questions!

Faith And Economics

View more presentations from rjgintrepid.

Time Flies

Is it really February already? Yesterday I tried to figure out where January went and couldn't find it. I think it was lost in a blur of good intentions and resolutions gone by the wayside.

The month was not completely lost-I can look at my calendar and see that I was able to catch up with good friends who I had not seen much over the holidays, that I celebrated birthdays and went out of town twice. But the fact that I have to look at my calendar to remember that is frightening. It seems as if I am running through life without a moment to stop and enjoy it.

The thing is, though, that while I complain about how fast life is moving, I seem to operate better as a busy person. I am constantly planning, making lists and schedules, and getting satisfaction out of crossing items off those lists or changing the month on the calendar. I rarely have two days in a row where I am not booked. I constantly feel like I am not getting enough done, not getting enough sleep, not enough, not enough.

And of course, when I do have a moment to stop and reflect, I don't know what to do with myself. This weekend was a prime example. I had no concrete plans, no to-do list. I could be busy or quiet as I wanted. On Sunday I had no responsibilities whatsoever-no meetings, no announcements to make, no songs to lead. And I was completely discombobulated. I changed my facebook status four times in an hour and tried to pray and meditate without much success. I was in a funk all afternoon and didn't go out for dinner after church. I obsessed over random comments made by me or to me that weren't really big deals at all but became huge destructive messes in my overactive brain.

Sigh.

Last summer, after the Life Together Retreat, I started writing a post entitled "What Does It Mean To Be?". It was in response to Dr. Spencer's teachings on authenticity. He had put up on the board at the start of that session a quote that had been on my wall for months: 'esse quam videri'. It means 'to be, rather than to appear'. It's something that I have been struggling with for a couple of years now. I am a doer, a Martha, a 2 on the Enneagram, an ESFJ Provider-Guardian that is always taking care of things. But how do I simply be?

And if I just be, will that be enough?


I've been talking about taking a sabbatical for awhile now. I decided that this would be my last season leading both a C group and Life Together. I'll continue to serve until July or August, after C groups are done for the year and the Life Together Retreat is hopefully another great success. But then I will take some time to not be in charge, to not have a full calendar every month. It will be good for both me and the ministries.

But I am already thinking about all the things that I could do during that time. Piano lessons, a foreign language, maybe more dance lessons or a martial arts class. I might end up just as busy as I am now. And will that defeat the purpose? Will all this activity just continue to distract me from my dissatisfaction with myself?

I realized in my struggling yesterday that as much as I have changed and grown as a person, I still have the same tendencies, the same old patterns that threaten to come back and take over, and hiding in my busyness is one of those old ways of coping. When I feel like I am not enough, that nobody wants just me, then I find more things to do to make myself useful. And it's a pattern that I don't want to keep repeating.

I know there is a lot underneath all this, motivations that I am unpacking. And half the battle is being aware enough of your own responses and whether or not they are coming from truth or lies that you believe about yourself. But the other half of the battle, the part where you actually have to change and overcome those lies, and not live in them anymore, that part is harder.

I never finished that post on authenticity. Maybe I should find the time.

25 Random Things About Me

Everybody seems to be jumping on the "random things about me" bandwagon, and seeing as how I never pass up a chance to fill out a survey or take a personality test I think this is the wagon to jump on. Enjoy:

1. When I was 5 yrs old, I stole a piece of candy corn from the bulk food bins at the grocery store. My mom caught me and made me apologize to the cashier and pay ten cents for it.

2. When I was born, I was a blond, and my hair was only slightly wavy.

3. I am part Syrian, which partly explains why I frequently get asked if I am a) Jewish, or b) black. But I am also part Cherokee, and according to the owner of Lounjin, there is this landbridge theory about the origins of Native Americans, so between that and the Syrian, I am really almost a quarter Asian.

4. When I was in high school, I had a paper route. I used to deliver papers around my neighborhood in the afternoons and then on weekends my dad would go with me because it was early in the morning. I was even Carrier of the Month once and got my picture in the paper. I delivered papers my freshman year of college too, so when they handed out end of the year floor awards in my dorm, mine was for 'Best Actress in the musical: "Jane Austen Delivers the 2am Newspaper"'.

5. I don't swim, I only dog paddle. Seriously, when I was little and my parents were trying to teach me how to swim, I would cling to them for dear life. Then they made me take swimming lessons when I was 12. I was the biggest kid in the beginner class. I still can't really swim, but I could probably stay alive for a few minutes before I drowned.

6. I bought my first car at 15, before I could drive. It was a Suzuki Samurai, a little mini-jeep, and I thought it was super cute. It was a good deal, but it was a stickshift, and I ended up not being able to drive it, so I had to sell it. I still can't drive a stick.

7. All of my family's vehicles, including mine, have names. My current car is named Katerina, Kat for short, because she is German and very fast and powerful. The Samurai was named Suzi.

8. All five of us siblings have different hair colors and textures-black, brown, red, curly, wavy, straight, all different combinations. If you just looked at our hair, we wouldn't look related. Contrastingly, my best friend and I have been asked if we are sisters too many times to count, and have even been asked if we are twins.

9. I have a little bit of asthma that kicks in when there is a lot of dust or I work out really hard. Which is why I found breathing difficult when hiking in Arches National Park last June.

10. My freshman year of college, I went through three roommates. One was fine, we just didn't get along. Another one was a thief. The last one was great, but attended school inconsistently. But during that year I became friends with the girl who became my roommate for the rest of college, who is still one of my best friends.

11. According to my dad, there is a Garrett's Pub somewhere in Yorkshire that is owned by ancestral relatives. Also, our family crest colors are supposedly cobalt blue and gold. Good thing I really like cobalt blue.

12. I love mushrooms, any and all kinds, raw or cooked. A mushroom-swiss burger is one of my great weaknesses.

13. I grew up constantly singing and acting in choirs and plays at church and school, but I have never had any voice or acting lessons and only 6 months of piano lessons.

14. When I was 15, I was at a friend's graduation party. One of his friends from school said that she had wine coolers in her car that her dad had bought her, and she was going to bring them down to the beach where we were. I got up and said that there was not going to be any alcohol because we were all under age and if she brought it down, I was going to get my friend's mom, and my dad, and the police, and it was not going to happen! The next day someone who had been at the party told his mom about it, and then she told all the parents at church about it. I got quite the reputation.

15. I have a weird habit of getting dressed in the bathroom instead of my bedroom which comes from 6 years of living in a bedroom with only two walls and no door.

16. The two things I own the most of are books and shoes. I collect antique books and they are all over my room and in boxes and just everywhere. If I had to get rid of them I don't know if I would survive.

17. My least favorite colors are chartreuse and bright orange. Oh, and puce. I probably hate these colors because I look horrendous in anything yellow-based. I am really picky about wearing colors that look good with your skin tone, both for myself and others.

18. I used to take horseback riding lessons and go to horse camp and I absolutely love riding even though I never get a chance to do it.

19. I was not allowed to listen to non-Christian music growing up, so my favorite bands were Newsboys and Switchfoot. The very first concert I ever went to was Carman: The Standard. The only reason I know any pop songs from the 80s and 90s is because of karaoke.

20. I was a HUGE scifi nerd (kind of still am) growing up. I watched every single iteration of the Star Trek franchise, actually knew a few phrases in Klingon, and can still carry on conversations about ST, Star Wars, Babylon 5, Stargate, Farscape, Firefly (the best) and other random things. The only thing I haven't seen is Battlestar Galactica.

21. If I were living in the sixties, I would have the biggest crush ever on James Garner. Support Your Local Sheriff, Move Over Darling, The Thrill Of It All. You've got to watch them. So great.

22. I never intended to get into banking. I actually said to parents and friends, "business? why would I want to be in business? I am going to be a teacher!" But then I finished my English degree and decided not to be a teacher. So I started applying to admin assistant jobs and randomly ended up on the WaMu website (good thing I didn't end up there). While I was looking at WaMu job openings, I thought, "Huh. Where else do I bank? Um, I have a card at US Bank. Ok. I guess I'll apply to jobs at US Bank." And then I applied and got the call. After I hung up with the manager I was going to interview with, I had to go look up the job to see what it was I was interviewing for. Six years later, here I am, still in banking. God has a sense of humor.

23. When I was five, I went with my parents on a mission trip to Mexico. We were helping to build an orphanage. I was playing with the kids, and my parents had to go get some supplies from town, so they asked someone to keep an eye on me while they ran their errand. But I looked up and saw them driving away, and I thought they were leaving me with the orphans! I ran screaming after the truck, yelling, "don't leave me! don't leave me!" I think it scarred me for life. I still have abandonment issues.

24. My mom (who is amazing) is only 17 years and 7 months older than me (my birth mother died when I was two and my dad remarried a woman six years his junior). She also looks about 35, so people think she is my sister (very annoying). So we have a tacit agreement that whomever I end up marrying has to be closer to my age than hers, which means he can't be more than 8 years and 9 months older than me. So if you were born before November of 1973, you are kind of out of luck.

25. I love any and all personality tests and surveys, from Myers-Briggs and StrengthsFinder to 'What's Your Coffee Personality' and 'Which Jane Austen Character Are You?'. I own books like Your Personality Tree and Now Discover Your Strengths. I'm an ESFJ (slight E, strong J) Provider-Guardian Melancholy-Choleric with a number one strength of Responsibility (big surprise there). I am also espresso and a cross between Lizzy from Pride and Prejudice and Anne from Persuasion.

In Italian, Please

The most exciting thing happened today: I bought a ticket to Europe!

I went across the Atlantic for the first time in 2004. That was my UK trip: I flew into London, took the train up to Aberdeen, Scotland (most beautiful train ride EVER) to spend some time with my college roommate who was getting her first master's degree there (she now has a second, and her husband is working on his PhD. Intellectuals!). After a week wandering around looking at old cathedrals and castles, I was a happy gal. But then I traveled around for a week by myself, leaving my bags at a hostel in London and taking day trips to Dover and Bath. I got a bit sick of traveling alone by the third day, and cried myself to sleep that night. But I forced myself to get up and enjoy my time in London, wandering through street markets and used book stores (I had to ship TWO boxes home because I bought too much to fit in my luggage). On the day before I went home, I took the Chunnel to Paris and wandered around, walking by the Seine and eating real onion soup and trying to find croissants and dealing with pissed off metro workers who didn't like my ignorant American inability to speak French. Despite the emotional stresses, it was a great trip, and whetted my appetite for more adventures on the Continent.

Alas, over four years later, and I still have not made it back. Every year I think, this year, this year I am going to France. This year I am going to Italy. After I read eat, pray, love I almost bought a ticket to Rome on the spot. But so far finances, weddings, and real life have prevented me from going.

But 2009 is the year. The ticket is purchased, nonrefundable, no going back now. We leave July 7th for Paris, will spend a few days wandering around museums, then head to Argeles sur Mer where we will spend a week on the beach and roaming the countryside, Then it's on to Italy, where I will spend my 27th birthday in Florence, where I have been dying to go ever since I first watched While You Were Sleeping. And even better yet, I will not be alone this time. I'll be vacationing with my wonderful roommate, who has also become my traveling buddy (and will be able to save me if I try hiking in 100-degree weather again).

So, I am excited. Ok, more than excited. I don't see how I am going to be able to make it until July. But I am going to put the time to good use. Right now I'm trying to decide if I have time to learn both French and Italian before we leave. Probably not. But I can try. This excitement needs to be put to good use!

Freudian Slips

I'm usually quite the grammar and spelling nazi. But even I slip up now and then. Like the time I was chatting with someone and I wrote "I can shat at work" instead of "I can chat at work". Very classy.

Today, I almost laughed out loud at work because of the following exchange. Mattsy had sent out an email with the list of players for Sunday's worship, and included in everyone's task description was listed the duty of "destruction." As in, "Rebsy- Vox and destruction" or even better, "Randall- Sound and Sonic Destruction". He ended this email by saying, "Just kidding. There will be no destruction."

I found this amusing, and thought it would be similarly amusing to make fun of his email with this response:

"Really? No destruction? You mean we won't be breaking down the barriers in our life that keep us from experiencing the fullness of the presence of God? We won't be storming the dates of hell? I thought we were spiritual warriors for God!"

I meant to say, of course, "gates of hell", one of those fabulous Christianese jargon phrases. I saw my mistake the moment after I hit send. I thought perhaps he might not notice, but Mattsy's a sharp one. His response?

"maybe you have the "dates of hell" HAHAHAHA"

Too which the only thing I could say was,

"I don't even have any dates!!!"

Christmas Reflections

It's the 13th day of Snowpocalypse here in Seattle, and after many days of either being cooped up at home or having to trek through snow and ice to get anywhere, it is good to be warm and happy with family.

I'm at home today for Christmas, which is great since last night I was alone on Christmas Eve for the first time in my entire life because I didn't want to drive through the icy dark night to get home. That, and there wasn't anywhere for me to sleep here since we have family in town and the house is overrun with eight kids between the ages of 10 and 18. So last night was a quiet evening of wine and baking and watching Bill Cosby Himself (classic) on Netflix Instant. Yay for technology!

On Tuesday night we had our roomie Christmas celebration. We headed downtown and I took the girls to see Seven Brides For Seven Brothers at the 5th Avenue, and then went home where I got a stocking of gifts for the first time in I don't know how long (my family does not exchange gifts on principle). We then sat around the kitchen table eating homemade pizza and sharing reflections on the year, and hopes for 2009.

My reflection was that 2008 was a year of endings. I've blogged about moving out and the freedom from old wounds of the past. I definitely feel that I am in a long process of change, that new things are coming. The verses that have been on my heart these past couple of years are all from Isaiah: themes of redemption, newness, fulfilled promises. So the endings are good in that they are full of hope for the future. But one ending was harder than the others.

On December 15th, my grandma's life here on earth ended and she went home to be with Jesus. She was ready to go-she knew it was coming, and she wanted to be at peace and in the presence of her Lord and Savior. I am grateful that she is no longer suffering and that I had good time with her before she went. I've been blessed by years of her love and counsel and example of faith and compassion. And having the assurance of her salvation and current state brings my family an amazing amount of peace and contentment.

But it hurts.

It hurts to be here at home with family and not have her with us. It hurts knowing that so many things in my life that I thought she would be a part of-my wedding, birth of my kids, that kind of thing-she will be absent from. It hurts knowing that I will never hear her quiet voice or feel her gentle touch again.

In one of my last conversations with my grandma, she told me that her favorite worship song was 'Amazing Love'. I was going to make that song part of last week's worship set, because it was the fourth Sunday of Advent, with the candle representing the Love of God. And it is this amazing love that brought Jesus to earth as a baby. His love that caused Him to walk this earth and suffer for us, to experience the same hurt that I am feeling now, and to overcome that hurt with His sacrifice and the hope of His resurrection. So while I hurt, I also feel peace and joy, and love for this Savior who blessed me with my grandma and has now welcomed her into His arms.

Today we gathered the family together to read the Christmas story, and my littlest brother DJ said, "I know what Christmas is all about!" And so we asked him to tell us, and he did:

"Well, there were shepherds, watching their sheep, and there was a woman, named Mary (just like you Mom!) and the angels came and said 'don't be afraid, I have good news to make all people happy.' And there was Jesus, lying on his bed of hay. And the angels said, 'glory and God in the highest'. And so Christmas isn't about presents, it's about giving and love stuff."

That's what it's about kids. Giving and love stuff.

Forgiveness, Freedom, and Guy Friends

"Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free" ~John 8:32

"See, the former things have taken place, and new things I declare" ~Isaiah 42:9a

"See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland." ~Isaiah 43:19

My life has been changed dramatically in the last four days. Externally, it looks the same, but internally the transformation has been radical. I shared at church and on this blog at the beginning of this year that I felt like God was bringing big changes to my life, that He had put these verses from Isaiah on my heart and I was excited about what He was going to do. But I could not have predicted what has happened, the phenomenal change that culminated with this week's events.

To fully explain, I have to go back about ten years. Yes, a long story, but one that needs telling, if only because of the glory that it brings to God, the evidence of Him transforming my life. And now that the story has a conclusion, I can tell it in its entirety.

Ten years ago, I was a senior in high school. I didn't have many female friends, and was horribly unpopular. I spent most of my time hanging out with a group of guys. Mostly I hung with this group for two reasons: they let me, and I had a huge crush on one of them. The thing is, I realize now that they weren't really my friends. I just tagged along. They didn't know me, didn't try to know me, and didn't treat me very well. And the friend that I had a crush on ended up figuring it out and telling me he wasn't interested.

So I went to college feeling rather unattractive, and not really understanding what good male attention looked like. And on the very first night I met a guy who within a week was telling me how much he liked me and how beautiful I was. And while I said that I didn't want to date at the time, we ended up spending every waking moment together for the first couple of months. As the weeks progressed, however, our relationship became increasingly dysfunctional. He suffered from clinical depression, but would not always take his medicine, and had severe mood swings. He was very possessive and controlling, and I was intent on making the relationship work because I wanted to be loved. It took me awhile to realize that this guy was treating me in a way that was manipulative and abusive. The worse it got, the more I told myself that it was my fault, that I was doing something wrong, or that there was something actually wrong with me. Because I had never been in a healthy relationship, I couldn't see the unhealthiness that I was in. Fortunately, I realized that I had to get away from this guy, as I became increasingly afraid for my physical safety. When I did finally break it off, he proceeded to stalk me for a few weeks and sent me many many messages filled with horrible lies and anger. Eventually he left me alone, but the damage was done.

I couldn't really deal with the emotions I felt at the time, as a 17-yr-old college freshman taking too many credits and working nights to put myself through school. I took all those lies and packed them down deep in a corner of my heart, the same place I had put all the rejection I had felt from high school. I went on with life, telling myself that I was fine, when of course I wasn't.

After this, I started hanging out with my guy friend from high school again. I still liked him (of course) and consciously or unconsciously I kept trying to figure out what he wanted in a girl so that I could become that. Then one day at the beginning of my junior year of college, he told me that he was going to marry me.

That's right-not that he liked me or loved me or thought I was great, but that he was going to marry me. Now, that should have been my first clue, but because I was so far gone on him, I just rejoiced that I would finally not be alone. After a few weeks he started telling me that he loved me, we started making plans, we even talked about dates for our wedding (I'm serious, I was 19 and he was 20, and we had a date picked out). But the more promises he made, the less he fulfilled. The more he talked about our future, the less present he became. He would talk about how he was going to graduate and get a great job and a place for us, and then he would slack off and almost fail his classes. He would tell me how he loved me only to ignore me in favor of the computer when I would make time to come see him. During this whole time, my parents were trying to caution me as well as him about moving too fast, but I was too in love to listen.

But I eventually had to confront him, again from a sense of self-preservation, as our relationship became increasingly difficult. And then he told me what no woman in love should have to hear from the man she thinks she is going to marry: "I don't love you enough to marry you." He thought that God meant us for each other, but he didn't really love me, so I needed to wait until he was ready and loved me enough to change and be a husband.

Of course, it was true that he didn't love me and couldn't be a husband. But it is the most devastating thing to a girl to be told that she is not enough, that a guy can't love her enough to be with her. It makes her think that she is unlovable. And that is what I thought: that something was obviously wrong with me, because I couldn't make him love me, just like I couldn't make the other guy stop hurting me.

I had enough self respect to tell him that I was not going to sit around and wait for him to figure out if he loved me or not. And walking away from him broke my heart. But when my life fell apart, it brought me to a place of complete brokenness before God, sitting at his feet with the pieces of my heart, crying out for Him.

That's where I needed to be. I needed to find out that God loved me, that there was nothing wrong with me, that He made me the way I am because He wanted me to be in this world. It took a long time to learn that, to accept God's love in a way that I never had. I remember sitting at home one day reading Dallas Willard's The Divine Conspiracy, and coming across this passage:

"We will never have the easy, unhesitating love of God that makes obedience to Jesus our natural response unless we are absolutely sure that it is good for us to be, and to be who we are."

Reading that, I realized that I had never truly believed that I was lovable or attractive as a person, as God made me. I didn't think it was good for me to be, and I knew it wasn't any good for me to be who I am.

Over the course of many years or prayer and counsel, worship and teaching, I came to a place where I can say with confidence that it is in fact good for me to be who I am. I trusted that my life is in Christ, and finally discovered where my worth lies. And I was able to choose to forgive these two men who caused so much damage to my emotional life. But I never was able to tell them exactly what they did, was never able to extend that forgiveness, never able to find closure.

Until now.

Earlier this year, I received a message from the guy I was planning to marry. He asked to meet because he wanted to apologize. I was understandably surprised and nervous, but decided that discussion could lead to something like reconciliation and closure. So I went, and it was a good meeting. He apologized, I apologized. He admitted that he never should have made the promises that he made. I said all the things I had never been able to say. I forgave him. And we parted ways with the knowledge that it was in the past, that we were healed by grace and mercy in Christ, and that we no longer had to live in fear of running into each other at a mutual friend's birthday party.

It was a liberating experience, to be out from under the weight of past mistakes and pain. But in the back of my mind I wondered if I would ever hear from that guy from freshman year of college. I didn't really think he would ever apologize, and I still lived in fear of what might happen if he ever tried to find me again.

And last Wednesday, the thing I had been dreading came: he contacted me on facebook. He sent me a friend request, and when I ignored it, he sent another, asking why we couldn't "bury the hatchet".

And so I told him. I told him how he had hurt me, about the pain and fear and abuse. I said all the things I had never said when I ran away from him in fear and confusion. And the most amazing part was, he apologized. He told me that he realized now that I did the best thing for both of us, and he treated me mercilessly for it. He said that he didn't realize that he had never dealt with it either, that closure was something we needed. He told me that he was sorry he had hurt me.

In all these years, I had never thought that this day would come. I never thought that he would apologize and I would be able to forgive him. But he did, and I experienced the amazing freedom that comes from releasing a hurt from long ago and extending forgiveness to a person who had destroyed me.

It has been truly amazing to walk around with this freedom, with this burden gone from my heart. I had been living with it for so long that I didn't even realize how much it still affected me. All of the prayers and decisions to forgive were made real and concrete, and I now know what it is to be set free by peace and truth.

All weekend I've been listening to songs and hanging with friends and family, and every now and then I have to stop for a moment, overcome by gratitude and praise for my God who has set me free, who has given me beauty for ashes, joy for mourning.

And so this is the conclusion of my long journey: forgiveness, freedom, peace, and joy. Our God is so good.

In considering all of these things over the past few days, I've come to believe that one of the main reasons that I was emotionally healthy enough to give forgiveness and receive these apologies is the friendships I have with guys at Quest. Having truly healthy relationships with godly men, not romantic relationships, but actual deep friendships, has been one of the ways that God has been working on my heart. While there are ups and downs and moments of awkwardness, because of the friendships I have developed I have been shown through word and deed that I am beautiful and lovable.

These guy friends I have are amazing. Over the past few years they have demonstrated to me what it is to be loved and respected by a man who treats me as a true brother in Christ treats his sister. I have seen how these men treat their wives, fiances, and girlfriends. I have seen how they love Jesus and seek to grow and become the men God has called them to be. They have shown me that I must never settle for anything less than the best, because they are that awesome. So thanks friends. Thanks Jeff, Blake, Tre, Darwin, Mattsy, M@, Slater, Christoffer, Randall, Miles, Joe, David, Sam, Mark, Paul, Kevin, George, Jin, Erik, and JackJack. Because of all of you, I know what a godly man is like.

Now that I know what a healthy relationship is, and no longer live in the pain and fear of the old relationships I had, I feel an incredible sense of freedom. I know that one day I will be able to have an awesome relationship with a man who will treat me as I deserve to be treated. And I know that until that man comes along, I have fantastic friends of both genders who show me God's love each and every day. This weekend was such an example of that love: the counsel from friends, the depth of discussions, the fun times we experienced, the silliness and laughter. And so, with the past behind me, and a wonderful life to rejoice in, I walk forward, knowing that God is declaring new and amazing things in my life.

Dinner Parties

I was going to write a post about how angry I am at the current situation with Henry Paulson, but then thought better of it. It wouldn't be good writing, just ranting and raving.

Instead, I will mention my happy success with my first official dinner party last Monday. I found a recipe for chicken and dumplings that I wanted to try, and since I now have a house where I can entertain, thought I would put it to good use by inviting over a few folks from Quest and making them dinner. I bought a fabulously large pot, filled it with homemade chicken and vegetable soup, then dropped in spoonfuls of soft rosemary biscuit dough to make tender dumplings (and no refrigerator dough here, this was strictly from scratch). It turned out to be pretty delicious, and was quickly demolished by the nine people who squeezed into my kitchen. Soup was supplemented by a wonderful salad provided by friends Matt and Nicola (although apparently creation of the salad was quite a feat, as there was an incident with pomegranate juice exploding all over Matt's kitchen). We polished off a couple bottles of wine and a few pots of tea and in all, I was very pleased.

But today I read of an even better dinner party put on by superheroes JackJack and LaV here at musings of a mellocello. This meal was not merely about good food and entertainment, but also a way for them to live out their love for God and people. Challenging and inspiring.

I love the people I worship with.

Post-Election Honesty

I was leading my C group last night, but the evening of great discussion about God's character was bookended by time spent glued to the fuzzy screen of our television watching the election results come in. I knew what the result would be-I think I had known for weeks that Obama was going to win-so I wasn't too surprised. Nor was I surprised when my Google Reader filled up with blogs about how proud and excited and teary-eyed my friends and fellow Seattleites are. But I don't really know what to feel.

Relieved that it is over? Yes. Fed up with the election conversations? Definitely. Happy that our country has elected a person of mixed racial heritage despite everyone's predictions that we were too racist for that? Most assuredly. Excited about Obama as president? Well, no, not really.

No matter how inspiring a candidate, if his fundamental views on how government should function and what policies should be supported are different from your own, then you can't really be excited when he wins the top office in the land. But as my dad reminded my brother(who voted for the first time ever this year!), Obama is our president now, and he deserves our support as well as our discerning critique as he makes decisions in the months and years ahead.

I am glad that the election is over, however. I am glad that I no longer have to endure the shock and dismay from my friends when they learn that I am a conservative, that I didn't support Obama, that I actually like Sarah Palin's politics. I'm glad that I don't have to be the brunt of the jokes of my friends (anyone who thinks that all Democrats are incredibly progressive and nice has never been a lone conservative in a room full of liberals). I have a wait and see attitude about this presidency-Obama will have a lot of challenges when he takes office, and we will see if change is really coming, and whether that change is good.

I appreciate my pastor's words on Sunday, when he reminded us that our allegiance should not be to a politician or a party, but to God. He also made the point that those who say that clear-thinking Christians can only vote Democrat are wrong, that our reasoning and convictions can lead us to different conclusions and that is okay. Which is good, because I consider myself to be fairly level-headed, reasonably intelligent, and full of care and compassion for my fellow Americans and fellow human beings. And I didn't vote for Obama.

I hope we can still be friends. Because our unity is in Christ and not in our political affiliations. It's a reminder that Christians in both parties need.

Lauren Winner Conference, or, My Life As a Chauffeur

I had been looking forward to the Lauren Winner Learning Conference at Quest for a long long time. Ever since the idea first came up over two years ago. Finally, this month, she came, and as I told everyone around me for several weeks prior, I got to be her chauffeur.

It's very interesting having an author that you love and have always slightly idolized in the passenger seat of your car. Or knowing that she has your cell phone number. Or taking her to QFC to buy Airborne. Random normal things that are made completely not normal by the presence of a person you never thought you would meet, let alone share meals and jokes with.

I try to never be the overeager fan, although I am still a little giddy about the inscription in the front of my copy of Girl Meets God. But it was humbling to find that Lauren was just a person seeking to share her faith and learning with others, that she wanted my feedback after her talks, that she would share a bit of her life with me and ask about mine. I don't expect her to call my cell phone anytime soon, although it might be fun to catch up with her next year when I am in North Carolina.

But enough about me and my "meeting my idol" experience. You want to hear about the conference itself. It was the perfect conclusion to our Faith & Gender class: Lauren said some of the same things we had all been struggling to say, but in a much more elegant, learned way. My friend Randall commented on the plethora of "big words" she used: words that we rarely use in conversation (despite our often-touted reputation as highly-educated Seattleites). Lauren herself commented on how intellectual the audience questions were. But beyond the deep analysis of issues of faith and gender, she communicated truth about God, community, and how we should be living as people of God.

I took copious notes throughout the weekend, scribbling furiously in the notebook that I had used to take notes while reading Girl Meets God. Here are some excerpts from what struck me on Friday night:

"We always think of difference in terms of violence, heirarchy, domination. The Trinity models difference without heirarchy, community without violence."

"Love, not as emotion, but as a call to participate in a common vision"

"When we talk about mutual submission we are not talking politically. We are talking about a relationship where both people involved are changed."

"The picture of the Trinity reminds us of our fundamental incompleteness. Our gender should be a reminder of our need for each other, not a way to dominate each other."

"By being here, with you and different from you, I allow you to be more yourself and me to be more myself."

"We have taken the story from capitalism that men need to find their identity in their work outside the home and women are relegated to domestic life."

"In our culture, when we find a biological reality, that ends the conversation instead of starting the conversation on how to handle and manage these realities.

And from Saturday morning:

"What if we made looking at women in the church as normal and important as studying men and male disciples in the church?"

"The story of Mary: How an impoverished Jewish peasant girl became an international superstar."

"Mary prompts us to ask ourselves how we expect God to act in our lives."

"When Jesus weeps, He's not getting in touch with His feminine
side, He's getting in touch with His humanity."

"In an eschatalogical reality, singleness trumps marriage. The tie that persists is that of baptism, our lives as brothers and sisters."

"You're not 'waiting' you are conforming your body to what the Spirit is doing in your life right now."

"We are going to be seated together at the heavenly banquet, so we should start reconciliation now."

So much good stuff! So much depth, so much to think about. If you didn't make it to the conference, I hear that the recordings will be available on the Quest website soon, so you should check them out. Be challenged.

All in all, the work put into this depth class and conference and the words of our pastors, leaders, and Lauren have all made a huge impact on how I view myself as a woman, a Christian, and a servant in the church. I'm grateful for the opportunity and hope to continue the conversations and the consideration of all that was said.

Faith & Gender: Gossip, Sex, and the DTR

It has been an interesting three months of preparation, research, and teaching for this Faith & Gender class and Lauren Winner Conference. The possibility of having Lauren Winner come out for a learning conference has been tossed around for a couple of years now, and from the very beginning I spoke up to say I wanted to be part of it. Admittedly, this was because I was a major fan of Lauren Winner's writing. Her book, Girl Meets God, was one of the more impactful books on my spiritual development over the past few years.


When we started to put together the depth class, however, I felt completely in over my head. How was I supposed to teach on the theology of Faith & Gender? I certainly didn't have a good story to tell or any answers to give. I was still confused on what it meant to be a woman, a leader, and a Christian all at the same time. Every week at our planning meeting I felt like I had more questions than ideas, more uncertainties than conclusions. Everyone else seemed so well versed on the subject, and I felt like the farthest thing from an expert as you could get.


At the beginning of our work, I still wasn't sure what I believed about women in leadership and marriage roles and sexuality, all these things that I was supposed to teach on. These are issues that I will probably never stop turning over in my mind and heart and searching the Scriptures on. But somehow in the process of trying to find answers that I could share with my fellow Questers, I found myself coming to a few conclusions that have given me a clearer sense of self, a confidence in the validity of my place as a leader in the church, and a renewed passion for God's justice.


A few things I have discovered or concluded:

1. Being a good Christian woman does not mean you can't be a leader: I was told for so long, directly and indirectly, that in order to be a good Christian woman, I needed to learn how to not be a leader. This went against everything I felt in my spirit about who God made me to be. Now I feel confident that I can honor God and my fellow believers, both male and female, while embracing the gifts and callings that I feel God has given me.
   
2. Submission in marriage is a good thing, a Biblical thing, but that doesn't mean you have to be a dominated pushover: Submission comes from a place of strength; it is a choice of the woman, not a forced subjection by the man. And submission doesn't mean you lose your voice. The Bible never says "Husbands, lead your wives."
   
3. Furthermore, the prescription for marital submission does not mean that I should be forced to be submissive in my dating relationships or any other relationship with a man, other than the call to "submit to one another out of reverence for Christ". The call to submission for the woman (and the corresponding call for the man to sacrifice and love as Christ loved the church) comes from marriage vows.
   
4. There is no one definition of masculine or feminine: God has made us each unique, and accordingly, we all have strengths and weaknesses. In a relationship, each person will take on different duties and roles based on their talents and how they work together as two becoming one.
   
5. Despite all this talk about marriage, it is not the end-all be-all of human existence and I should not be looked at as half a person because I am a single female over (just barely) the age of twenty-five. While I may feel called to marriage, it should not be the only thing about me that people ask about, or the only thing I base my worth and identity on.
   
6. You can be a committed evangelical with a high view of Scripture, who believes in submission in marriage, and also wholeheartedly support women at every level of church leadership, including pastors and elders.
   
7. The more honest and open and-dare we say it-vulnerable we are with each other as men and women, the more we can work towards healthy relationships and good ministry as the body of Christ.
   
8. Sexuality is more than sex: it is the call to be present to each other in our embodied selves, in non-erotic as well as erotic ways, and seek healthy intimacy in all its forms.
   
9. Yes, men and women can be friends: but the biggest pitfalls of those friendships are gossip (other people speaking untruth into the relationship) sex (an unwillingness to be honest about sexual tension or attraction and deal with it in a healthy way) and fear of the "DTR" (an unwillingness to openly "discuss the relationship" on a regular basis to guard each other's heart and soul).
   

Whew. That was a lot of stuff. But I think I did more reading and researching and discussing in the past three months than I have in the past three years. I had huge checkout lists from the library, borrowed books and ideas from fabulous friends, talked over coffee and the phone with wise, opinionated men and women, and thought and prayed long and hard about all of this. There are still many more questions unanswered, and ways these conclusions will need to be lived out on a daily basis, but I am grateful for the opportunity to challenge my confused preconceptions and reexamine what Scripture says about gender and our roles as men and women in the body of Christ.



Next up: Reflections on the Lauren Winner Conference!

Grandma

If I was a good blogger, I would have immediately posted on Saturday or Sunday about the Learning Conference with Lauren Winner at Quest this weekend. But my life is too full of craziness to be a good blogger. These past couple of weeks have been insane: my grandma has been in the hospital, the market has been crashing repeatedly with no end in sight, and I am in full teaching mode at Quest, both for the Faith & Gender Depth Class and my new C group.

I think if it were merely the church responsibilities, I would be more than fine. Even with the market insanity, I would be okay, because I can (mostly) leave that at work. But with my grandma in the hospital, everything took backseat to the intense anxiety regarding her condition. Last week we were not sure that she would make it to the weekend. I took a Wednesday off work and spent it at the hospital with my mom and grandma, praying as she went into atrial fibrillation that she would make it long enough for my aunt to see her one last time. But my aunt made it here, and despite all odds, my grandma is still with us, just as sassy as ever.

My grandma is an amazing woman. She was an ER nurse for about 40 years, head RN for awhile, and worked well into her seventies. She spent most of her life praying for the salvation of her husband and children, prayers that were finally answered when my grandpa was much older and finally came to God after a series of medical issues (all of her kids were by then believers of Christ). Up until that time, she had taken care of the family almost singlehandedly while my grandpa was a bit of a deadbeat. After he was saved, his Alzheimer's set in, and she continued to work while taking care of him for the next ten years, with the help of her children. He's been gone for a long time now, but I am still amazed at the way she was faithful to him, never wanting to put him into a nursing home or see him as a burden. She is an amazing example of faithfulness, generosity, and love.

I can't imagine not having her for a grandmother, and yet, she is only in my life because of the tragedy of my birth mother's death when I was a toddler. You see, this grandma is my second mom's mom (I'm not a big fan of the "stepmom" term, it's too negative for my purposes). But even though we are not flesh and blood related, I feel closer to her than some of my other family. And this family that I have reminds me that God truly makes all things work together for good.

We don't know how long my grandma has: her myelodysplasia is quickly progressing into leukemia, and while the doctors are no longer talking days to live, they are talking weeks, at best months. But I will be forever grateful for having known and loved and been loved by this amazing woman of God. Her example, her caring, her perspective on life have helped to shape me into who I am. Her advice continually bowls me over with an incredible quiet wisdom, like the time she told me that the question wasn't if a guy was "right for me" but instead if God had called us to walk the same path. That was deep and profound and changed the way I view relationships dramatically. And that is just one example--we have had so many more good conversations, late night talks where I saw her heart for the lost and her love for her Savior.

I wear a ring that my mom gave me many years ago. It is a simple white gold band, made from her grandmother's wedding ring. This is a family heirloom of a family that I was brought into, accepted as being part of no matter the genetic ties. I wear it and I think to myself, blood may be thicker than water, but love is thicker than blood.

ps: I will blog (hopefully soon) on the Lauren Winner conference and my amazing experience of being her chauffeur. Stay tuned!

Drizzle

I am a big fan of fall. The heat goes away, the sweaters some out, hot coffee and tea are abundant. I understand the general aversion to rain, but I actually don't mind it. According to blog Seattlest, that means that I am truly a Seattleite (the fact that I was born here helps too). And I do promote and live the myth that true natives do not own an umbrella.

Yesterday I took advantage of a slow day at work to enjoy my penchant for fall. I walked from my office to Pike Place Market, which is just about five blocks, quite handy, and tooled about the stands, picking up some baby bok choy for dinner. I was wearing my new H&M beret and was consequently given a sample of a French pear from a vendor, who said that I obviously needed French pear wearing such a hat. I continued the theme as I walked around, buying flowers and stopping by Le Panier for a Pain et Chocolat and a cappuccino. I did feel rather chic.

The weather was just right for the excursion: not too warm, but not cold either, with slight sprinkling of rain. No coat needed, just a hat and sweater and a warm cup of espresso and foam. Perfect afternoon.

I know in a few months I will start to dislike the cold and wet as I get drenched on my way to and from the bus stop. But for now, I love the rain, the fresh produce, and my hat. Yay for fall.

Visitation Rights

October is the month of visitations.

Every single weekend in October involves a visit with a long-distance friend. This upcoming weekend my very very best friend Tenae is coming into town for her brother's wedding and while I will have to share her with family, we will still be able to spend some time together, including some lindy hop fun. Tenae and I have been friends for almost nineteen years, and we still never get tired of each other, as evidenced by our cell phone bills and the amount of money I have spent on plane tickets. Three hour phone conversation: $12. Plane ticket to Hawaii: $350. Time spent with best friend in whole wide world: Priceless.

The following weekend is the Lauren Winner conference, and while Lauren and I aren't personal friends yet, I am sure that by the end of the weekend we will be bosom buddies. I have already read her memoir more than once, so we have a good start. Also, the fabulous Linda will be returning from her Alaskan adventures that weekend. Fortunately for us, she will be staying in town longer than a day before gallivanting off to her next excitements of Kenya, Switzerland, and San Francisco. Can't keep that girl down!

Then-wait for it-on the 17th Matt Schaar arrives. When Matt left Quest and Seattle for B school long ago he promised to visit soon but with all his trips to South Africa and Jamaica and wherever else he has been, he has not deigned to grace us with his presence until now. Matt and I became good friends on a day trip to Leavenworth for some Oktoberfest action a couple of years ago, and he's been keeping life crazy fun ever since. He is also known for giving me my nickname of "Reebok". No one knows why he called me that, since I don't wear hightops anymore and I am not an athlete, but Reebok I have become.

And finally, on the last weekend of October, I myself will be traveling to visit my college roommate Hilary. Hilary also traveled about the world after school, going to Scotland for one master's and Philadelphia for another. She also picked up a fabulous husband in Philly. Now they have moved to Bloomington, Indiana so said husband Jon can pursue his doctorate in astronomy. They're big on higher education, these two. They talk about Karl Barth over pancakes at IHOP.

While I have a wonderful group of friends in Seattle, and can't ever see myself leaving this city for permanent residence elsewhere, I do miss my long distance friends and sometimes find myself jealous of their jetsetting ways. I have also always preferred in person conversation to phone or email, and the fact that I haven't seen Hilary in over two years is just a travesty. So I am understandably excited for this month of October. I'm glad that the September insanity will give way to the October fun. I just hope I have the energy after this month to keep up with my fabulous friends!

Bailout Schmailout

It's been awhile since I blogged on financial matters and the markets. Too much has been going on in my life and on Wall Street to make sense of the insanity. And it truly is insane: people are actually taking negative yields on treasury bills. They are paying to have their money invested, more willing to take a small sure loss than a chance at an even bigger possible loss.

And it is all insane according to one popular definition of insanity: doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. The government continues to try to provide more credit to huge failing companies and cheaper credit to the market, when credit is what got us in trouble in the first place. Our entire economy has become based on credit and derivatives, and this is where it has led us.

I enjoyed reading Robert Kiyosaki's brief article on the bailouts, as well as this blog equating it not with socialism (as many have said) but with fascism. If you want to read whole lot of interesting perspectives on this stuff, from balanced critique to conspiracy theory craziness, go here. Some of it will make you roll your eyes, but some will make you think.

While I understand why the government has taken the steps it has taken because of the general market panic, the fiscal conservative in me is appalled at the amount of national debt we have just taken on. Being much happier as a debt free person, the fact that my government is in debt up to its eyeballs scares the bejeebies out of me. And when we can't pay our teachers what they are worth, can't provide adequate social security funding, and have two presidential candidates spouting about how they will make our lives so much better with their competing tax plans, I shudder to think what will happen when the bill for all of Paulson and Bernanke's efforts shows up in next year's budget. Make no mistake my friends: whomever gets elected, taxes are going up, or inflation is going up, or both. Most likely both.

I don't have much to add to the discussion except this: awhile back I laughed at one columnist who said that the way to beat the market and inflation was to invest in commodities: not silver or gold, but toilet paper and canned goods. That's a pretty extreme position, but with the wild markets, the panicked calls I keep getting from clients, and the nonsense coming out of politician's mouths, it makes me want to go invest in a couple of cases of Charmin.

Today is the Day

I've been talking about moving for so long it seems unreal that the day is finally here. I've been signing leases, getting keys, packing boxes, moving a few carloads-but today, today I move my bed and tonight I will officially sleep at a new address. It is a fabulous but bittersweet day.

I moved home the summer after my junior year of college. It was not the home I grew up in-we had moved to my grandma's house the September that I started at SPU. I had a bed in my grandma's room that I would sleep in on breaks, and now I was her roomie. When it became clear that I was not moving out anytime soon, they moved some things around in the basement, whitewashed the stone foundation walls, and my hole was created. It is truly a hole: behind the pantry shelves, under the stairs, with no door and one small window that doesn't open. Just call me Henrietta Potter.

I needed to be home at that time in my life. I had broken up with my almost-fiancee, given up my plan of getting a teaching degree, and was generally depressed and uncertain about life. God and I had a lot of anguished conversations in my hole. A lot of fear, anger, hurt, and confusion was poured out in my journal and on my pillow. But healing also came; joy and acceptance were found in my hole where I slept next to the hot water heater and the furnace.

My family had a lot to do with that healing. When you are lonely, the sight of four young boys rushing the door when you come home from work yelling, "Becca's home!" can give you an amazing amount of encouragement (not to mention the hugs they lavish on you when you do actually get in the door). So many nights my mom stayed up late with me as I processed and cried, giving me advice and comfort. So many times my dad has rescued me with rides to work or a morning cup of coffee and love. So many times my grandma would speak quiet words of wisdom that would change my life.

When people looked at me strangely for saying that I lived with my family, that there were eight of us in one small three-bedroom, one-bathroom house, I tried to explain these things. But after awhile I would just smile indulgently and think to myself, they just don't know. They haven't had my mom's pancakes or my dad's fried egg sandwiches. They haven't played cards with my brothers or listened to my grandma make scandalous comments on the good looks of my guy friends.They just don't know.

I didn't always appreciate it either. The weeks when all I did was work and come home, work and come home, work and come home-these weeks I wallowed in too much self-pity to see the blessings I had. But the more people I meet and the more time I spend away from home, the more I realize how unique it is to have such a great family that you are able to enjoy living with.

Perhaps it is because I realize this blessing that now is the time to move. I have thought about it before. I have had offers before. I waited, wanting the right time and the right people. And I have found them. I have a lot of peace about this move (even though life in general is nothing like peaceful right now). I recognize what I am gaining and what I am losing, and I make this choice not out of a desperation to get out or move on, but because my roots are firmly planted in this thriving family I have.

I will miss a lot of things. I love the drive from Burien to Seattle up the Alaskan Way Viaduct (yes, I love the viaduct!) because of the view of the bay. I even wrote a poem about the drive in college (no, you can't read it. It was horrendously bad poetry). I'll miss waking up to the sounds and smell of fresh coffee brewing. I'll miss coming home and finding the family at dinner, with a place for me at the table. Sneaking into my brothers' room and tickling the giggles right out of them. Having my youngest brother wake me up on a Saturday morning by jumping on my bed.

Yes, even that.

But now I will move in with fabulous gals into a fabulous house near a fabulous lake. I will be able to drive home in a few minutes instead of half an hour when I am at a friend's house late at night. I'll have a place to invite friends over to cook for them. And I'll even have a door (although somehow I still ended up in the room under the stairs, go figure).

So today is the day. I am beyond excited about what I will gain. But I am aware of all I will lose. As with any life change, it is a bittersweet blessing. But it is a blessing.

One Year Later

Last year on September 10th, I got up early, put on my best suit, and rode the bus and an elevator to the 21st floor of the main building of LUBI for my first day as a sales assistant. Within a couple of months, I had upgraded my title to "registered" sales assistant, reflecting the untold hours I devoted to studying for and passing the multiple licensing exams needed for a financial advisor. Now, here I am, a year later, happily settled in this job that I agonized for weeks over accepting.

I think we can all agree that taking the job was a very good idea.

Stress levels? Down. Income? Up. Schedule? More flexible. Opportunity in the world of finance? Much broader. Overall employee satisfaction? 73.6% higher.

I've learned more this past year about markets and economics than I ever could in a college course. And while I feel competent in my job, I am still intellectually challenged on a day to day basis by customers wanting to know what the @#$% is going on with the markets (don't ask me, nobody knows). I also feel more valued as an employee than I had in the past couple of years, even though I am now "just" an assistant as opposed to a manager (further proof that titles means nothing to your leadership ability or potential).

This position, like my entire time at LUBI, was surprise, and a blessing. I have no idea what the next stage of my career entails, or if this will be my last hurrah in the banking world before I settle down into my true calling as a church secretary. But I do know that I am still enjoying myself, and I still feel that I am walking the path God has set for me. I have no idea where the path may lead (although I have some wishes) but I trust that it will be a good journey.

Spice Girls

September is going to be officially INSANE.

I was asked about a week ago in a meeting what was going on in my life, and my answer included:

1. Being part of the planning team for the Faith & Gender depth class and Lauren Winner conference (more about that in a minute)
2. Getting ready for another year of C group
3. Leading Life Together and recruiting more folks for the LT leadership team
4. Being on the WAC (Worship Advisory Council) and helping with 5pm setlist/team scheduling
5. Moving (something I haven't done in over six years)
6. Other assorted things in life, like dance lessons and trying to meet regularly with a girlfriend to "verbally process"

After listing these off, the WAC members looked at me in a mix of disbelief and horror and pronounced that I had too much going on.

What else is new.

I am trying to learn how to say no and choose carefully how I spend my time. It just happened that a few things I couldn't say no to all ended up in the same month. They are all really really good things. I'm definitely looking forward to Lauren Winner, who wrote one of my favorite books, visiting Quest. I am excited about C groups and Life Together starting again, I am beyond excited about moving, and leading worship is becoming one of the most fulfilling things in my life.

That being said, I tried very hard to get out of leading worship this past Sunday. I knew it would be a busy weekend, what with the Life Together Summer BBQ and all. I also knew I was starting to burn out and needed a break. However, the other worship leaders (and almost the entire team) were out of town, which left me to hold down the fort. Mattsy called it "Rebecca Torture Sunday". While it wasn't quite that bad, it was looking a little dicey there for a second.

Fortunately the fabulous Jessica and the equally wonderful Melissa came to the rescue, and the three of us led worship with no problems. Jessica plunked down some amazing guitar skills and taught us a new song, and we finished practicing in a record half an hour, allowing us to go relax over some coffee before church. With Jess taking lead I got to bust out some high harmonies, which I don't get to do too often, and all in all it was a good Sunday.

The only unfortunate thing was that both George and Matt kept referring to us as the "Spice Girls." Despite my contradictions, it came up in multiple emails. Jessica and Melissa also protested the moniker and insisted that we were more like Dixie Chicks or TLC, but the boys liked their idea too much to listen. It got to the point where I was being sent lyrics to "Wannabe", including a new verse:

If you wanna be a worship leader
you gotta be George's friend
making lots of music
and singing in his band....

Thanks for that one Matt. Really, there's nothing you can say to respond to that.


Anyway, it was especially cool to lead worship with two other fabulous strong women of God because of this Faith & Gender class that we are putting on. Jessica is on the planning team with me and we were joking about how we were a walking, singing commercial for the class. She said we should have made an announcement: "Wanna know why this is ok for us gals to lead you in worship? Come to Faith & Gender!" While it doesn't seem that crazy at Quest for three women to lead worship, in some church traditions, it might be questioned. And throughout history, it certainly would have been a scandalous thing-I can hear Tertullian yelling about the sinful daughters of Eve as I write this.

Although coming from a very conservative home, I was always encouraged to be a strong, independent woman. I am the first female in my family to have a bachelor's degree. My mom, who will be the first one to tell you that submission in marriage is part of God's design, is herself a fiery woman who isn't afraid to speak her mind. She more than anyone has taught me how to be strong yet gentle. But as I work through the readings and Scriptures we are bringing out for the depth class, I find myself struggling to articulate my own point of view on Biblical gender roles. I am proud of my female pastors, proud of being a woman in leadership at church, aware that my own ministries and callings would have been denied to me at other points in the history of the church. But I also see the beauty of my parents' marriage, and I am challenged by the Scriptures and how to interpret them.

The other big questions that keep coming up for me are, what is my role as a single woman? How do I express my sexuality? How do I reflect my wholeness in Christ while also acknowledging my deep desire to be a wife and mother? These are questions I seem to have trouble finding answers to. Books on Christian sexuality seem limited to telling us the importance of being chaste. Well, I know that, and I am pretty darn chaste, let me tell you. But I am also a real flesh and blood person. I don't have a sexuality switch in my head that I can keep in the 'off' position until I say my I dos. And I don't feel that singleness or celibacy are my calling, AT ALL. But I also cannot stand these books with titles like, Waiting For Her Isaac. I'm sorry, but I think that God has more for me to do than just sit around waiting for some man to come calling.

But I really do want one to come calling.

Sigh...so many questions, too few answers, and no time to sit and think and research and reflect. I am looking forward to the discussions in this depth class. While I know that not all my questions will be answered, at least we will bring up the issues, and I think I will find that I am not alone in having these questions (if the reaction from the women I have already talked to about it is any indication, it seems to be a common concern). As I seek to be more myself, more as Christ would have me be, I welcome this opportunity to explore these things with my church community.

But after this, I really am going to get better at saying no.