As a young child, I could hardly wait for my twelve torturous years of school to be over. I would count down the days until I would no longer be chained down by paper and pen. I would finish each school day with the exciting thought that someday soon I would graduate. I would be an adult, and this tiresome time of lessons and homework would all be over.
Yet now that kindergarten through sixth..
The car pulled in the driveway, I got out and walked into the house and went up to my room. I looked in the mirror at myself and let out a heavy sigh. How could I have left the house looking that way?
Why are my legs so big?
Why is my hair so flat?
Why can’t I keep a clear face?
The list of what was wrong with my image ran through my mind a million miles per hour. I couldn’t stop judging myself..
We’ve all experienced it. The girl who makes you feel like dirt. The girl who makes you feel like all of your efforts to try to fit in are worthless. The girl who makes sure that she gets all of the attention while you agonizingly watch on the sidelines. This is the girl who makes you feel like she is better than you.
First of all, I would like to say that you aren’t the only one who has..
Because I’m a young single twenty-something, people often offer me advice about relationships.
They tell me to make sure I’m not being taken for granted.
To make sure I’m getting something back in return.
To make sure the relationships I enter into are two-way streets.
To make sure that I’m appreciated. That my gestures are reciprocated.
I brought you a cupcake at work. Now it’s your turn to bring me one.
And I appreciate all of you people giving me this advice. I know it comes from love. It comes from wanting to see the person you care for valued in her relationships. It comes from being protective. But I have news for you:
I don’t want that 50/50 relationship you’re talking about…
Rhymes don’t always chime…err…a rhyme isn’t true all the time…umm…living by rhymes can result in fines?
Okay, those are all lame. Allow me to just use blunt prose. Is modest truly “hottest” as the catchy expression goes? Actually, no. Not at all.
I’ve always had a couple major issues with this slogan, and I don’t think it actually helps cultivate true Biblical modesty.
By definition, modest..
I was thirteen years old and heading in for my first experience with the well known photography company Glamour Shots. My mom and I were on a special girls trip to Dallas, Texas to celebrate my birthday. Obviously getting my hair highlighted, nails manicured and pictures taken was a must for this girly girl.
I loved every minute of the Glamour Shot experience. The makeup. The hair. The clothes. The looking at pictures. The compliments. I felt beautiful and accepted.
I couldn’t do it anymore. I was tired of pretending that everything was “okay”. I was tired of faking to have a good relationship with Jesus. I was tired of looking and acting like a good Christian girl. I was giving up… It had been a long hard 6 months. I was scared, lonely and tired of pretending. I wanted to run into my room, shut the door and never come out.
We all have times in our lives when we feel distant from God. We hold our feelings in because we are scared of feeling like a horrible person for not trusting that God is good all the time. We don’t even want God knowing about our lack of faith in Him. So we go on pretending until we are tired out and simply can’t pretend any more.
How do you feel about yourself right now? When the lights go off and you’re all alone, when you can take off the mask and stop the big pretend, how do you really feel about yourself?
Some people are amazingly confident and full of hope. But the rest of us resemble a crumpled piece of paper – worn out, tired, rejected, regarded as useless and an all-round complete failure.
We pretend, tell lies and try to laugh through our pain, there’s no point reaching out to anyone to tell them how you feel, they won’t get it. We struggle with feelings of permanent despair, fear and discouragement. Sound familiar?
I knelt on the side of the raised garden bed pulling the weeds from the moist ground. My hair whipped in my face; I should have pulled it back before my hands got dirty. The spring afternoon sun warmed my back and shoulders, reminding me that winter was really, truly gone from Ohio.
I am one of the few that enjoy pulling weeds. The dirt under my fingernails, the excuse to be outside in the sun, the time to be alone and think. As I pulled the weeds in the strawberry bed I thought about how our sins are like weeds.
“Take a deep breath. Here we go again” I tell myself. I was about to explain why I was saving my first kiss again. It’s not that I didn’t like telling others why I was saving my first kiss for marriage, it’s just that I already know the feedback I will get once I explain it. How did we get on this subject anyways? I forget.
*Sigh. “Well, ” I begin, “When I was little my parents told me that..