Attempting to catch up ...

I've thought about this blog a lot lately, I think because this was always the place I turned to when I had thoughts I couldn't unburden to anyone in real life.

My last post was one of those thoughts - I had my first real two-sided romance this past winter, and some poor emotional coping mechanisms (on both sides, but admittedly more on his), fears, and doctrinal disagreements came between us, and it was ... messy and ugly. It should never have happened, but I'm also glad it did - I learned about myself, and I learned about what I do and do not want in my future husband. I'll be thinking about it for a long time to come.

But, that relationship is only one of the vignettes in an explosively growth-filled six months. A friend of mine suggested that I might have codependent tendencies - that I need to feel needed by broken people in order to feel good about myself. So I have started going to counseling to learn how to think more healthily about myself - to listen to my own feelings and opinions instead of downplaying them, to learn how to set boundaries and say "no" when I need to, and to see myself as worthy, loved, and important. So many of these new ways of thinking are completely foreign to me - I'm not used to accepting limits to myself. I'm not used to taking time to rest and replenish my emotional strength - it still makes me feel "weak" and self-indulgent at times. But as I recently counseled a young student, "You can't pour from an empty cup"; and I'm learning how to fill my cup with good things in quiet time so I can pour that back into others' hearts when I'm full.

Early this year, I went out on a limb and applied for a science journalism internship with NASA - and lo and behold, I was chosen! So this summer I will be packing a U-Haul and hitting the road for the East Coast, living away from my family for the first time ever. It's only for 10 weeks, so it's the perfect length of time to see what living on my own is like; and I won't be taking any classes or working any other jobs - just writing and taking photos, 40 hours a week for 10 weeks. Four hundred beautiful hours of doing what I love best. I am definitely nervous about living away from my family, but I'm also incredibly excited.

And just like I'm wading into the scary unknown of my unhealthy emotions and flying out to the scary unknown of living with strangers in a metropolis, so I've also been swimming out into the breathtaking unknown of putting all my faith in Christ's finished work on the cross and letting go of trying to earn His favor with my "good Christian" deeds. Through a combination of counseling, sharing the Gospel with my former editor and his wife, and studying Galatians in my Bible study group, I have been shocked and confused to realize that what I thought were just "standards" I held for myself were really yet another attempt to "make God happy with me". This isn't a new struggle; it's as old as this blog - it used to be my long dresses and conservative music; now it was my attempts to be sacrificially present and nurturing to literally everyone in my life. If I could just give more of my time and my energy, then God would be pleased with me. If I could just spend more hours listening to friends vent about bad relationships ... if I could give more effort at work ... if I could set a better example for my siblings ... if I could finally get my driver's license ... if I could just be and do more, then I would finally feel that God was pleased with me.

But God in His mercy directed me to Galatians 3:

Let me ask you this one question: Did you receive the Holy Spirit by obeying the law of Moses? Of course not! You received the Spirit because you believed the message you heard about Christ. 

How foolish can you be? After starting your new lives in the Spirit, why are you now trying to become perfect by your own human effort? Have you experienced so much for nothing? Surely it was not in vain, was it? 

(Galatians 3:2-4, NLT)

Christ is enough. It isn't "believe in Christ AND then do good works". No. Christ is entirely and wholly enough. If I were incapacitated today and could never do another good work for the rest of my life, it wouldn't matter because Christ is my righteousness. Christ is my holiness. He alone is Who and What I need to get into heaven and to secure God's favor.

As one of my dear believing professors put it, this is faith. Checking off the "checklist" of being a "good Christian" is impossible, but it is something concrete and visible that people can hold onto. You can see a long dress, or choice of music, or how you spend your time. That isn't faith. Believing that, even on those crappy days where you lose your temper and want what you shouldn't and just want to hide away from the world, Christ is still enough and God still loves you - that is faith. It's ambiguous. It can't be seen or held, and sometimes can't even be felt. But it is beautiful and it is empowering and it is what sets us free from guilt and shame and fear.

Learning all this simultaneously - clinging to a failing relationship while believing Christ is still enough; applying for a NASA internship while learning how to develop healthy friendships with myself and others - has been a rollercoaster of crying and laughing and staring blankly at this upended world that I now inhabit. But I can't wait to see what my Potter is doing as He squishes me down and reshapes me from the wheel up. Who am I about to become?

***

I do miss this space and all of you, and I leave it up so I can come back here and keep it alive in hopes of returning regularly. I pray that God is working in your lives as amazingly as He is working in mine, and that each of us is being lovingly polished and crafted into vessels that His glory and brightness can shine through.

Be well, friends. I love you.

~ Vicki

Strength to carry a secret

"Oh, hey," he said casually as my classmate and I turned to leave for class, "I'm getting married in the fall, you know."

I froze with my coat half-on as my classmate shrieked in delight, rushing over to demand pictures, ask the woman's name, and hear the story of how they met. Instead of following her, I turned partly away and slowly concentrated on loading my books and computer into my blue backpack, hoping that she didn't summon me to join the conversation. I didn't have the strength today to pretend that I'd never seen these pictures before, and to look him in the eye while I asked for a story I already knew. To his credit, he didn't turn in my direction either. Even though he had given his ring to another woman, there was still something heavy and uncomfortable that sat between us whenever we spoke.

I lifted my backpack to my back and slipped past the chattering crowd. He didn't say goodbye. Neither did I.

***

In three months, the tall young man with the sparkling brown eyes who gave me my first romantic embrace will be walking down the aisle to marry the woman God created for him many years ago. On the day of their wedding, I will be working in a newsroom near Washington, D.C. I will probably steal a moment on my lunch hour to cry; because once that day is over, a short story full of sweetness and pain will be sealed and tucked up on the shelf of my heart, never again to be opened or shared with anyone who knows both of us.

On paper, there isn't much to tell. He is a doctoral student who has a desk on the other side of the aisle in our small, stuffy third-floor grad student office. The day he came to visit our program, I greeted him and his host parents warmly, telling them all about apartments and things to do in our little Midwestern town. We met officially at a poster session in the fall - I explained my research to him and noticed how nice he looked in blue. My professor-mentor noticed that I noticed.

I learned about the tragedy that had stolen his parents from him when he helped me with a class project, and I cried as he told the story. He noticed that I cried. And as the leaves changed to the reds and golds that matched the shirts he often wore, he started stopping by my desk - for a few minutes, for half an hour, for hours at a time. We talked about theology, politics, research, our childhoods, our future plans. In the middle of a rainy October night, he backhandedly messaged to ask if I might consider dating him.

If emotions are our connection to life, then I was drowned in life for the next four weeks. Passionate and sure of himself, he praised my character and faithful lifestyle, he whispered in my ear how beautiful I looked, he cautiously reached out to hold my hand, to touch my arm, to press his knee against mine as we sat together. He called me his queen and dropped comments about taking me back to his country with him, carefully watching my face to see how I would react. He could read me like a book and knew things about me that I couldn't put into words myself. The first time he pulled me into his arms and placed his hand on my waist, my entire being exploded into a firework display of fear and longing that I had never experienced before.

Things unraveled fast. My heart, filled with anxiety and brought up in the era of kissing dating goodbye, tried desperately to keep him at arm's length while I feverishly laid the "perfect husband" template over everything he said and did. Annoyed that he wanted to move the conversation from "maybe dating" to getting married in the space of a few short weeks, I didn't realize that I was doing the same thing, both of us in our first dating relationship and unable to handle the tornadoes of hope and hormones that raged inside us. Over and over, I told him to slow down, back off, go away; and over and over he came back, pleading, pressuring, poking me into anger just to get me to react to him. Finally, hiding behind my parents' firm disapproval, I called the whole thing off, informing him there was no way to bring our strong and opposing personalities into a relationship.

I have never sensed pain in another human being at the level that I sensed it in his heart when I told him my decision. He tried to convince me that it was all a fling, that he never cared for me the way I thought he did, but it wasn't true. I, too, knew things about him that he couldn't put into words himself; and I knew that his last desperate whisper when I reached up to fix his coat collar - "I want you to do that every day for the rest of my life" - was spoken from a place too deep for lies to grow. I wrote to my best friend the next day and cried, "I feel like I just cut his arm off with a chainsaw."

He left for Christmas break. I stayed home in my snowy town, taking long walks in bitter winds to cool the raging confusion and anger that burned in my heart. And I told myself the same lies that he had told me. It was all a fling. I never cared for him the way he thought I did.

***

Just like Jo's rejection in Little Women spurred Laurie to look at Amy with new eyes and see the way things should have been all along, so my friend went to spend his Christmas holidays with a beautiful girl whom he had known since they were children. As he poured out his sorrows to her, things started to rearrange themselves in his heart; and he realized that the girl who had waited for him for so many years was really the one who deserved his love after all. Christmas worked its magic, and before he came back to school, they were engaged.

I told him I was happy for him, and at first, I was. But on the early-spring evening that he waited for everyone else to go home so he could come stand by my desk and show me his fiancee's picture, he finally looked me in the eye and told me that I had been right. It was not all a cruel joke. Everything he said about falling in love with my character, being impressed by my humility, cherishing the way I love and care for others, holding my purity and modesty in high regard - all of that was true. And he confessed that, on that last evening when I had fought with every intuitive and empathic power in me to pry away his careless mask and see the truth he buried deep inside, everything I had confronted him with was true. He was lonely, and he was wounded, and he did love me in some frantic, imperfect way.

After he put his phone back in his pocket and went home, I was left sitting in an empty, sun-soaked office, wondering what I had done - and what I had lost. Why had he finally come to tell me the truth? Was he truly a manipulative Mr. Collins who showed me his heart to triumph in my fresh pain, the way my sister and spiritual mentor insisted he was? Or was he the broken, lonely, imperfect but holy and faithful man I thought he was in the beginning, trying to break the news to me gently in some clumsy concern for my heart? Were we really too strong-headed and dissimilar to have figured things out, the way my parents and mentors insisted we were? Or did I let my anxiety push me into giving up on something beautiful?

***

I will probably never know the answer to these questions; and in a few short months, I will no longer allow myself to ask them. But whatever the thing was that we burned down, some beautiful things have begun to grow in the ashes.

For one thing, I have seen myself in a completely new way and learned things about myself that I couldn't have learned any other way. I learned more about what I really want in my future relationships. My friend wanted me as a wife because I was a fellow Christian grad student whom he thought could help and support him in his doctoral journey - a normal and fine thing to hope, but also lacking the element of partnership and mutual growth that I am seeking in my future marriage. I am a woman full of dreams and ideas and desires for adventure, and I want a husband who will support my growth and development just as much as I support his. My friend never mentioned my growth or betterment once when we were together - only after he was already engaged.

I also learned how important it is to find a boyfriend who values purity as much as I do. Both of us were strongly attracted to each other and desperately wanted to touch and hold each other; but in many ways, even though he couldn't stop himself from emotionally diving headlong into our relationship, my friend had more physical self-control than I did. He knew when to stand at a distance to talk with me, when to reject my requests for a hug, and also when the time was okay to flirt and touch because we were in a public place. I didn't experience the overwhelming level of temptation that I expected to, but I learned that I still need practice to get in tune with when it is and isn't safe to express affection through touch.

And lastly, I learned that it's time to start making my own decisions about my life, and not to keep making my parents make decisions for me, like I'm still a child. I'm turning 30 years old this year, yet I still almost frantically pleaded with them to tell me whether or not I should date my friend. Ultimately, even though my decision was informed by my own anxieties and frustrations, I still used my parents' wishes to shield me - not brave enough to own the decision as my own. It's one thing for me to honor my parents' wishes and seek to make them proud with my actions, but it's another for a grown woman to make her parents choose the direction of her life.

***

I've received a fellowship to work as a science journalism intern in Washington, D.C. this summer. I will be embarking soon on a real adventure - living alone for the first time, living in a metropolitan area, and getting my first real experience in the profession I have chosen. Soon, this brief and painful chapter will be far behind me. My friend will be a married man, and I will be launching out into the dreams that God has given me.

But I wanted to record the story here, because it was both too powerful and too mundanely predictable to seal away in silence forever. None of our classmates can ever know, but someone must. I have been loved; I have been desired and pursued. I have been held, and I have wept in sorrow and anger, and I have seen those same tears reflected in another's eyes. No matter the outcome, I am richer and stronger for this experience, and I pray that he is, too.

Lord, give me the bravery to carry this secret and to plant seeds of grace and love in its ashes, so that I can greet his new wife with grace, embrace their children with sincere love, and nourish their relationship as a sister and a loving friend.

i will wait for love

Over the last week or so, quietly, inexplicably, I have found myself stepping back from my one-sided relationship of the last year, and looking at it.

And silently, I have admitted to myself that it wasn't as pretty of a thing as I thought it was.

I know, they never are; but the real ones, the ones that are going to last, have a strength to them that holds together all the messiness and gives them shape - a solid skeleton under the uneven, shaky, imperfect tissue that knits together the "one flesh".

This one was like a skeleton with osteoporosis. Much too fragile to stand up to the weight and blows of daily life ... because only one of us was building, and I was building haphazardly and without proper materials. It was doomed from the beginning, just like he said it was.

***

He didn't respect me or my judgment. He frequently told me - and others - that I was scatterbrained, unreliable, inconsistent, and confusing. He called me condescending names, questioned my decisions, and said he liked it when I got angry or jealous because it reassured him that I was human.

In turn, I tried to use him as a security blanket when he didn't want to be. I placed selfish demands on him by seeking attention and support when he was already fighting stress and worry; I got peevish and angry when he didn't drop everything to tend to my needs; and I tried to shame him into conforming to the ideal I had built in my head for him.

Yes, I really was that ugly. And so was he.

That's not to say that it wasn't a very special, important relationship while it lasted. God let us find each other so that we would each have someone to lean on during the pain we went through last year - my rejection and failures, his insecurities and fear. When I was able to put aside my own needs and really listen to him, and when he was able to put aside his standoffishness and really listen to me, each of us was the support and understanding that the other needed.

But while that would have been a great start for a lasting relationship, it wasn't enough to sustain it. A relationship that lasts must be built on respect, trust, selfless care, and ultimately, a desire to serve and exalt God together. Because he didn't respect me, and I didn't trust him, and because neither of us could let go of our selfish wishes for the relationship (me to warm it up, him to cool it down), it could not survive.

***

As one of my dear friends said, the good thing to come out of this relationship is that now I know I can love - which I had strongly doubted in the past. I loved him very imperfectly, it's true; but if love is the genuine desire for someone's well-being and the willingness to sacrifice for that well-being, then I did love him. For every time I caved to my pounding heart and shot him a bothersome text, there were three or four times that I pushed the phone away and left him alone. His grades and reputation were huge motivators in how hard I worked on our joint projects. And when I could make him laugh and forget about his troubles for a moment, I felt like the most powerful and successful woman in the world.

I'm not going to try to love him in this way anymore. I've made sure, the last two times I've seen him, to let him know that he can come to me anytime he wants to vent or take a break from school, and I have genuinely meant it - not as a ploy to get him to go out with me. Now he knows it; and with that promise successfully tucked in his pocket, I can leave and freely explore the big world opening up ahead of me.

I hope - I really do hope - that he will call me back every so often. I hope I can stop by his office and sit with him in the afternoon again sometime. I hope, someday, he'll give me that hug that he never quite did. But I'm not going to chase after it anymore. Love that is not freely offered is not love at all.

***

I continue to hope that, somewhere along my journey, I find a tall, brown-eyed Jesus lover who welcomes me into his heart with warmth and understanding - someone who values and cherishes me, who looks at me with pride, not disgust. I pray that there is a man who will grow stronger and bolder when I shyly hand him my heart, who will allow me to add my strengths to his and to gently pour compassion into his weaknesses. I pray that there is a man who will raise up children with me, loving and protecting them as precious gifts from God.

I have caught a tiny glimpse of what love can be, and I see now that it is worth wanting and worth waiting for. And whether I am ever allowed to step fully into its light, I now know that the love of my friends and their husbands is worth supporting, nurturing, and protecting as a friend, not something to be feared or sneered at. Any pain or disappointment I have felt over this past year has been completely worth it, if I have truly learned this lesson.

After all - "for love is from God; and everyone who loves is born of God and knows God (1 John 4:7)". May I always value and protect this most precious gift.

growing up

The semester is winding down. Only the gigantic year-ending cumulative first year exam stands between me and summer vacation.

It feels so strange to be closing this chapter full of so many new beginnings. Some of them are falling like dead seeds into the ground, dormant for now, but I am confident that they will yield beautiful vegetation and shade trees and fruit one day. Some of them are still alive, fragile seedlings growing hope in the charred and dark places of my scorched heart. I don't know yet which of these tiny hope-plants will survive and thrive, and which are bound to wither away - their time and mine are in God's gentle, mighty hands. And some of them were planted just recently and they're growing strongly, bright healthy plants that promise a harvest of bountiful blessings sooner than I think.

***

This summer, I will be returning to my old writing job to take over some projects in need of a skilled hand - I hope and am determined to be that skilled hand. I'm going to see about getting involved in the music ministry at my new church - I would be thrilled to get to serve the Lord with music again!! - and finally, finally, after 10 years, get my driver's license. I'm going to keep practicing photography and looking for new ways to serve the Lord and other people through it - I was genuinely surprised how many people I've had the chance to help and bless with my new camera this semester. I'm going to wear beautiful dresses, and put a touch of pink or mauve color in my hair, and above all, I'm going to celebrate the new things that God is doing in me and through me.

***

I'm also going to be moving - for the first time, I will be moving into my own apartment! Everything has fallen perfectly into place; I know that God's timing is finally right, and I'm terribly excited - there is a dear crabapple tree that hangs its pretty branches over my balcony, and my room has a gigantic window that I can drape with romantic white curtains, and I can build bookshelves and nooks for knickknacks and have friends over for tea and old movies. I can't wait to start learning about hospitality - and the less glamorous, but equally important, joy of daily homemaking.

***

The guy friend and I have been seeing a lot of each other lately - at his request, surprisingly. I love being with him, and every time he chooses me and asks to spend time with me, I feel like I could fly to the moon. His presence in my life is definitely a catalyst for several different hard, important lessons that I'm learning - that no courtship article or marriage book has it all figured out when it comes to messy relationships between multi-dimensional people; that loving someone despite their flaws and struggles is a very Christlike thing to do, not something to be ashamed of; and most importantly, that God loves to give good gifts to us and wants us to have joyful, abundant lives, so I shouldn't be afraid to bring my requests to Him or think that He's going to slap my wrist and rebuke me for wanting a blessing. He doesn't want me to drag around feeling anxious and guilty all the time, and He certainly doesn't want "trusting Him" to look like apathetic acceptance that nothing I want will ever work out. Even if He lovingly says no and fills me with joy from a different source, He wants me to come before Him in love as a cherished daughter, and boldly ask for this hard, challenging, beautiful responsibility.

So following the example of my dear friends who are submissively but expectantly praying for other blessings in their lives - new jobs, new babies, new places - I am going to ask the Holy Spirit to guide me in two areas: Firstly, in cultivating a submissive, accepting spirit in me that authentically seeks God's glory and approval, and doesn't rebel at the thought of not getting my way; but secondly, in fearlessly watering the hope in my heart, disregarding the risk of pain, and preparing myself to be the best girlfriend I can be in case God's answer is "yes." I have no idea how one does that; but I'm starting by praying for the guy friend every day, and simultaneously trying to do better at respecting his introvert-recharge time and personal space.

***

I'm growing up, friends ... I know, it's about time (*grimace*); but it feels really good and really scary to be transitioning into decisions and opportunities that will affect other people and maybe even future generations, not just myself. It's terrifying to stand before God and ask Him if this fallen, broken, wonderful man is the one He has chosen for me. It's terrifying to think about shopping for my very own kitchen appliances and groceries and toilet-fixing gadgets. It's terrifying to see the bright excitement of the new Master's program I'm going into and wonder what hard and incredibly important service awaits me there.

But it's also beautiful. 

Tonight, I'm going to go review my notes on hearing aid algorithms and acoustic reflexes, and get myself to bed early, so I can go into that classroom tomorrow and show all those professors who didn't believe in me how much I really learned. (Or, alternatively, fail the exam bombastically and finish out my glorious failure in an appropriately dramatic burst of flaming wreckage.)

And tomorrow? Another chapter of my life-book will close, and I will step out into a brand-new one.

I may dash away a few tears, but even so, I can hardly wait.

{re: change}

I wonder how I'm going to feel in the future when I look back on the 2015-16 school year?

Right now, it feels like I have never truly lived before this year. I am honestly amazed when I step back and look at the sheer number and amount of experiences and emotions that have pounded over me and soaked me to the skin.

I have experienced physical exhaustion to the point of near-fainting and emotional exhaustion to the level of sobbing uncontrollably for three hours.  

I have thrown every iota of mental, physical, and emotional strength into something and seen it end in defeat - then I have seen hope be reborn and the Holy Spirit lift my eyes to look toward new horizons.  

I have uncovered unfairness and untruth and been their victim, and from that experience gained a desire to stand up for other students who are coming behind me.

I have discovered the strength that lies in the unchanging love of friends, and I am learning that even that strength is utterly frail and helpless compared to the ever-present love of my Father God.  

I have dared to fall in love, and felt the jagged pain of rejection cutting my heart and soul - but I have planted seeds of hope in the wounded places and watched them continue to grow, fragile and sweet and ridiculously audacious.

Defeat and hope, courage met with obstacles, injustices discovered. It's been quite a year.

***

At the advice of my mentors, and after many painful meetings and long nights of weeping, I have decided to leave my clinical program of study after this semester and move to a Master's degree program focused on health education and support. Admitting failure and letting go of my dreams and plans has been one of the most painful experiences of my life, and it will take me a long time to recover from the emotional damage of the decision and the semester in general; but God has moved in every stage of the process, and I am firmly convinced that this is His leading. There is no doubt in my mind that this is all Him, and that I am doing the right thing. Despite the sadness of failure, I am excited to see what He has planned and where He will take me next year.

This year has also been the year of my first real, complicated relationship with a man about whom I have dared to use the word love. He has cared for my heart so gently through the pain of this semester, driven me home after midnight, lifted my spirits with food and stories, carefully protected my confided thoughts, and rewarded me with the gift of his trust, his tears, and his hopes. We are a beautiful team. He calls me his confidante, his counselor, his kind and good friend ... yet for all this, he still says he does not love me in the same way that I love him. Every time he catches my eye and smiles, my heart leaps; and every time he waves and drives away, it sinks with frustration and pain.

I continue to hope. It may be futile, this tiny flower in my heart may be trampled back down again; but I continue to hope and pray. And even though I don't know what the outcome of this will be, just like the situation with school, I can say that the things I have learned through our friendship will outlast the pain, regardless of what the future holds.

***

I am a different person today than I was in August. I am no longer arrogantly enamored with my own sweetness and intelligence. I have failed, I have been the "stupid one", I have wounded others, and I have been wounded. I have learned about the depths of my own sinfulness. I have lost ten pounds and am thinking about getting my first tattoo.

I am not the same person that I was before this year.

But.

God is still the same God that He was before this year.

He has pursued my soul in a visible, vibrant, astounding way this year. He has met my collapsing soul with truth in the night when I was too weak to reach for it myself. He has nourished my soul through unexpected people and given me peace and rest in places I never would have looked for it.

I love Him. Oh, so imperfectly, so inconsistently, so unworthily of His majestic grace and all-powerful mercy; but I love Him and I am truly delighted in following Him. He is everything that I need, and even as I pick myself up and stumble away from the wreckage of my failures and broken dreams, I know that I am leaving nothing behind, compared to the glory that lies ahead in getting to know Him better, and in letting Him make me the comforting person for others that others have been for me.

Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, and today, and forever.

Amen.

when you don't know if he's the one {or, 5 ways to stay sane}

"Soooo, are you guys, like ... together?"

They have no idea what a stressful question that is. How do you slap a neat label on something as fragile and mysterious as the soft mound of a seedling just below the soil?

I just smile and shrug and say something like "Well, if we are, he hasn't told me about it, soooo ..."

I'm not being facetious. I genuinely don't know. I know that we prefer each other's company and have a lot of fun when we're together, but I also know that we are both very self-sufficient and have plenty of reasons not to start a relationship right now. For today, we are just friends. Ish.

The days, weeks, or months in which a simple friendship begins to look like something else are challenging for pretty much anyone, let alone a spinsterly homeschool alumna who has just spent the last four years of her life living and working with almost entirely women. Anxiety and questions abound, mostly all boiling down to either "is this all in my imagination?" or "oh my goodness, should I have said that?". The churned-up soil of an undefined relationship is a fertile place to grow viney worries, sticky-burr obsessions, and wild dreams that grow like invasive weeds ... as more and more of these intrusive thoughts and unexpected feelings wind around my mind and stick to my heart, their weight makes it more and more difficult to wade through each day without collapsing in nervous exhaustion.

So what's a girl to do?

***

I definitely, definitely do not have it all figured out - because my friend and I see each other every day, I feel like every morning I'm starting over, trying to understand the strange, rusty emotions that mix together weirdly in my 8AM coffee. But through this experience, I am learning some principles that are really benefiting me; and I wanted to share what I am learning in hopes that it might help someone else - not only people who might be in the early stages of a relationship as well, but anyone facing uncertainty at the beginning of a big change in their lives.

I. Pray like a daughter. I'm not talking about primly uttered prayers asking God to prepare my heart to be a perfect Proverbs 31 girlfriend, should that day come ... I'm talking about crying prayers, messy prayers, prayers about the embarrassing and scary questions that I don't know how to ask. I'm talking about scared-daughter prayers to my Father. Abba, I'm feeling angry because he didn't say goodbye before leaving ... and I know that's ridiculous because he said four times that he was really hungry ... and I'm just mad at myself for getting so stupidly mad over these stupid little things.

I guarantee that the Holy Spirit has been facepalming very hard over the confused, irrationally angry, weepy prayers that I have been mournfully tossing up to Him over these last few months ... but He has been listening and bringing me bracing truth, soothing comfort, and gentle warnings that exactly answer each unique day's heart-needs. Pray, pray, pray to God as a listening Father Who cares more about your daughter heart than even the most attentive earthly father.

II. Keep busy. The old saying "idle minds are the devil's workshop, and idle hands his tools" is truer than I wish it were. If you keep moving, the sticky burrs and vines don't have as much of a chance to stick to you - in plain English, engage yourself in good things that busy your hands and your mind, so that you don't get stuck in those horrible cyclical worries and draining fears. Put on a movie while crocheting a baby blanket for a friend or charity. Go give your bedroom a good going-over with inspirational music playing in the background. Scrub your bathtub while listening to a podcast. Doing something with both your mind and your hands will burn off some of that anxious energy and apply it to something useful - while keeping racing thoughts at bay.

III. Monitor your motivation. Maybe this is just me, but I am finding to my chagrin that what I think are my reasons for doing certain things in this relationship are not the real underlying reasons after all. For example, this evening I texted my friend to tease him a bit, as we like to do; and I told myself I was being friendly. But after firing off the text, I took a step back and truly examined my heart, and I realized that this time it wasn't really about making him smile, but about me - I feel so special when he takes time out of his busy schedule to text me, and I was seeking out that feeling because it was late in the day and I was hungry and lonely.

Now, I'm not encouraging you to start over-analyzing everything you say and do, looking for hidden ulterior motives everywhere; because trust me, that is an even worse state to be in than an impulsive one. But when we are very emotionally invested in something - something that we really want to happen - it can be easy to let our anxious hopes mix in with our bigger intentions and make them selfish. I know this is the exact opposite of what I want to happen in this friendship, whether it grows up into the next level or not; so I need to check on myself every so often to make sure that I am still acting in love and servanthood, not in selfishness.

IV. Take care whom you confide in. This is one that I have learned the hard way. In any potentially life-changing situation, it is important to have as much constructive counsel as you can get; but the key is realizing whose counsel is constructive and whose is unhelpful or even destructive. Some of the small handful of people I have confided in have been gentle, helpful, and encouraging; but others have actually contributed to my anxiety and worry quite significantly with discouraging, negative comments. When you are dealing with something that is brand-new and very important to you - whether it's a relationship like this, or something like a new job venture, a new baby, or any other new work that God is bringing forth in your life - it is vital that you surround yourself with godly counsel that will gently encourage and correct you, not scold or question you and add to your self-doubt during a time when you're generating plenty of it on your own.

V. Enjoy being yourself. Don't forget that, even though you may be eager to spend more time with your new friend and try out this "dating" thing that everyone is so excited about, for now you're still quite single; and now is a great time to remember all the things you love about this stage of your life. That looks different for everyone; but for me, it has meant Disney marathons with my brothers, taking long walks in the slowly warming weather, and enjoying lunch with my dearest girlfriends. Life as a single grad student is a beautiful thing, and whether this works out or not, I never want to lose sight of all the blessings that I have right now, right here, in this place and this moment.

***

There is no easy way to navigate this time of life, but it helps so much to remember that God has everything under control - just like every other relationship in my life, this one is to bring glory to His name and to shape and mold both me and my friend more closely into the mold of the One we love, the Lord Jesus Christ. It's not easy to continually, moment by moment, reroute these quite-natural-but-dangerously-close-to-selfish desires into spiritual channels; but the Holy Spirit is right with me with all the resources of strength and willpower from heaven at my disposal, and He wants to keep me walking the straight path of His will even more than I want to.

My God is mighty, and powerful, and the One my soul loves. My Father, whom do I have on earth besides You? No earthly friendship compares with Your white-hot love that fills and purifies every corner of my heart and soul; and I pray again that You would surround me with Your protection and satisfy every longing that I have with the beauty, majesty, and sufficiency that only You can provide!

"Now to Him who is able to keep you from stumbling, and to make you stand in the presence of His glory blameless with great joy, to the only God our Savior, through Jesus Christ our Lord, be glory, majesty, dominion and authority, before all time and now and forever. Amen." ~ Jude 24-25

Still a Worthy Dream

Today was an interesting day.

After working hard at my office this morning, I came home to watch Dan and Nick in the afternoon. I helped them play Twister and Frisbee tag outside, wash their hair, set up blanket forts in the family room, pop popcorn, and put their pajamas on; then I made dinner in a hurry because it needed to be early today; and in the middle of all that, I baked brownies, kept the boys from disagreeing over blanket fort boundaries, tried to babysit the TV, and tried to keep loads of laundry going in the washer and loads of dirty dishes going in the dishwasher.

Whew.

Most of you, especially you married women and moms, probably read that with a blank expression and said, "Yeah? So? When do we get to the interesting part?"

The interesting part was when I finally collapsed onto a stool to rest my aching feet and realized that this is what my mom has been doing every single day. And so much more. For almost thirty years. Without complaining.

And it got more interesting; because the words that escaped my heart after a sigh of admiration and awe were, "This whole homemaking thing is just awful! Maybe I don't mind not being married after all!"

***

This worried me. I was genuinely worried that maybe I'm not cut out to be a wife and mother at all - maybe I'm still too selfish and immature. Even worse, I worried that I might get married anyway, and turn out to be a lousy housekeeper and a shrewish, selfish mother. (Yes, I've worried this before.) Maybe it would be better for me just to accept my fate as a single career woman, so I could live by myself in an apartment and not have to do all that homemaking stuff.

And then the Lord sent this article to me:

Your Wedding Is Still Something Worth Wanting

I can't tell you how encouraging this was. Because very often lately, my thoughts about marriage have been running just like the author describes in the first paragraph of the post:

"Maybe marriage isn't all that great after all.

"When divorce rates are high and the surviving marriages around us seem broken, messy, and unhappy — and there are plenty of other good things to keep us busy — lots of young men and women in their twenties and thirties have basically given up on marriage. With all the pain, failure, and friction, it simply can't be worth it, can it? Surely I can find other ways to enjoy love, companionship, and even the feeling of a family. That’s what Facebook is right? There are other ways for me to be known and loved, and marriage really isn't necessary for my happiness or significance here on earth."

You know those "YESSS!!!" moments when you find something that perfectly expresses your own thoughts or feelings about something? This was it. I've been really struggling to understand what is so great about marriage anyway; and then today's dawning realization that marriage also means letting yourself in for 40+ years of constant housework and babysitting mothering duties just compounded it.

But this article went on to really challenge my narrow, self-centered thinking. I'm not going to summarize it here because I badly want you to read it yourself (yes, even you married ladies, because I think it will still be very encouraging!); but the author's main point is to remind us that the ultimate goal of marriage is not to give us happiness, or even self-worth or identity. The ultimate goals of marriage are a) to bring glory to God through its modeling of His permanent, sacrificial love; b) to make two complementary believers into a powerful unit to reach out to a wider circle of people (read: Aquila and Priscilla); and c) to have children and raise up men and women to serve God and reach an even wider circle of people.

Ironically, placing the concept of marriage into this sanctified and spiritual realm actually lifted some of my burdens. If marriage is about "happiness" - romance and kisses and snuggles and all that stuff - then I'm in a bad way; because eventually (okay, sooner rather than later) my own strength to make someone happy is going to run out. But if this is a missional thing, a circumstance to bring us closer to God and to bring others closer to God, well then, that's much different; because that means that it's something God will specially empower me to do. He'll get me through the mountains of dirty laundry and the saltine crumbs in the carpet and the husband coming home and asking first thing when dinner will be ready (I rather shocked myself with the violence of my reaction to my poor brother who did that to me last week).

This post also reminded me that, despite the temptation to view it as one means among many for fulfilling my social needs, marriage is the only human relationship that was intentionally created and ordained by God. It is admittedly hard for me to understand, because I've never been initiated into the mystery of being in love; but I need to accept it on faith that even in our who-cares society, marriage is still sanctified and very special - and worth all of the hard work that goes into it.

That's the thing - right now, from the outside, all I see is the work and messiness of trying to mesh my self-centered life with some man's self-centered life; but if the Lord grants me to see the inside one day, I know that, because it is a relationship specially designed by God and mirroring His love for His people, it is going to be all right.

***

This post definitely provided me with some things to think about, and a timely call to bring my thinking back in line and value the things God values. I would highly encourage you to read it - and please drop me a comment with your thoughts/reactions!

Have a wonderful evening, my sisters!

Hugs,
Vicki

When I Fall In Love

When I Fall In Love

by Victor Young

When I fall in love it will be forever
Or I'll never fall in love

In a restless world like this is
Love is ended before it's begun
And too many moonlight kisses
Seem to cool in the warmth of the sun

When I give my heart it will be completely
Or I'll never give my heart

And the moment I can feel that you feel that way too
Is when I fall in love with you

(Music sung by Nat King Cole)

Valentine's Recap: Reconsidering Romance

This is a post I wrote for Valentine's Day and never posted, for some reason ... I just rediscovered it and thought it was rather profound, so I wanted to share it with you.  :-)  It's not technically part of my marriage "series", but it's related ...

***

Sometime in the last year or so, I have undergone something of a transformation in my view of romance.

To be blunt, I've decided that I don't really need it, and I'm not always sure that I even want it. When I think I want to be in love, a few moments of self-probing usually reveals that all I'm really feeling is jealous of the attention and respect that people get when they are in a relationship or married. It's very true that single people do not get the same respect that dating or married people do - it's as though I haven't "arrived" yet, that I'm less of a woman and less of an adult because I don't have a boyfriend. This does get difficult, and I have blog posts to prove it. But when I sit myself down and put myself in time out, I'm forced to admit that this frustration and inferiority is really all I'm feeling. It's not really a desire for love.

For another thing, my life is plenty full on its own, and doesn't need to be completed by a boyfriend. I have very exciting plans for my future career. I'm good at what I've chosen, I love it, and there are a million different ways I can use my future graduate degree to help people - here in the U.S. and even overseas, if I want. And even besides work, I have a lot of wonderful things in my life - good books, good friends, my loving family, my hobbies and clubs. I enjoy my own company, and don't always feel inclined to share that company with another person, either.

For a final thing, I really don't seem to have the kind of personality that most guys would like. Who would want a wife whose favorite pastime is to get as far away from people as she can so she can curl up under a dead tree, read Jane Eyre and listen to Anúna? Especially since that wife doesn't like to cook, leaves piles of stuff on the floor for weeks because she's too busy reading blogs to notice them, and is extremely awkward around children? I might be an interesting girlfriend just to tell stories about to the guys, but as wife material, I'm hardly cut out of the stuff that most men are looking for.

So I have slipped on my comfortable spinster costume (a.k.a. my "crazy old lady" outfits of long gypsy skirts, geeky tees and severe ponytails) and decided that I like it.

Except ...

Should I like it?

Every so often, I get the feeling that, rather than liberating myself by throwing away my hopes and expectations of marriage, I just might be limiting myself instead.

I just might be limiting myself to a very narrow view of what life can be. I like being single because that's all I've ever known. I've never known what it's like to share my entire heart and life with another person - even my sister, my dearest earthly friend and companion, doesn't know everything that goes on in my mind and heart. What would it be like, to trust someone stronger than me with those secret thoughts that bring me to tears on dark winter nights? What would it be like, to show someone the things that I love without fearing that I will be judged or thought of badly? Certainly, my life as a single woman is full of friendships and love in its own way; but if I never open myself up to this kind of whole, accepting love, I might be limiting myself to a superficial and lonely understanding of what relationships between two people can be.

I just might be limiting myself to a very self-centered life that never knows what true sacrifice is. Now, of course there are plenty of chances for a single person to learn about sacrifice, and many a man and woman has given all that they had for people whom they loved in a non-romantic way. But what greater sacrifice is there than to lay down my life on an altar and pledge to put one man before myself, every day, for as long as I live? To promise to hold his secret pleasures and pains just as gently and acceptingly as he holds mine? To give my body to bear his children - and my precious and beloved sleep to care for them day and night? If I choose to only commune with myself and decide not to give myself to another in this way, I might be limiting myself to a much less perfect understanding of Christ's sacrifice for me than I could possibly have.

I just might be limiting myself to a smaller sphere of influence than I could otherwise have. Much as I like to pretend I'm an independent, outgoing woman, I actually still don't have a driver's license, so I am limited to the places that my busy family or friends can drive me; and I'll admit to being scared to travel much farther than that on my own. When I've said things like "Oh, I'd rather not go that far by myself," people have occasionally replied, "Why don't you let your boyfriend drive you?" - which sounds simple but is quite profound. By telling myself that I refuse to rely on a man to take care of me because I am self-sufficient and can take care of myself, I am not in fact being resourceful and independent. I am being stubborn and proud. If I refuse to accept that I have weaknesses that a (bigger, stronger, more experienced, and likely smarter) person could fill, then I might be limiting myself to staying stuck in my own proud little circle instead of going with him to a larger field.

I just might be limiting myself to a superficially helpful life instead of becoming a crucial part of someone else's dream. It's very important to me to have a "life work." That means that I don't just want an 8-to-5 job that I leave at the office; I want to work in something that consumes me. Something that I live for because I see my work making a difference in the world. I'm certainly not saying that I want to get married because no other work will satisfy me that way, because that's not true - after I graduate, I'll be able to heal people and help them in a way that's going to be truly awesome. But what if, instead of doing that on my own, I could use my skills to complement my husband's skills, and we could work together as a team? What if my dream expanded to include his dream, and his expanded to include mine, so that together our work was twice as powerful? If I choose to take the easier road of puttering through life on my own, I might be limiting myself to a life that's only half as helpful as it could be.

So.

I don't know yet whether God has planned for me to get married or not, and considering these things certainly doesn't make me any less satisfied with my single life. I meant it when I said that my life is very full and happy as it is, and that I don't need a man in my life to make it better.

But ...

What if, in honor of Valentine's Day, I left off the mantle of "spinster" for just a little while longer? What if I were to pray that God would open my heart to WHATEVER He has for me?

***

Hugs and a very Happy Valentine's Day to you,
Vicki

Single ... and Satisfied | Marriage Part 1

I was reading an interesting article the other day on finding your purpose in life and fulfilling it. It was a wee bit cliché, said all the usual things - "find what you're passionate about", "look at the world and see what you can bring to it", "find the ways to use your talents to spread the Gospel" - but it ended with something that, for whatever reason, struck me very strongly. Paraphrased, it said, "Keep in mind, of course, that whatever passion you decide to pursue in your life, you must not let it detract from your primary ministry to your husband and children."

As I looked at that, I suddenly felt so incredibly free. I have nothing in my life to stop me from pursuing whatever interests me - no binding commitments that would prevent me from going wherever I wanted to go or wherever the Lord sent me, at any time. That is such an incredible blessing!

Before I go on, though, I want to back up a bit and share something that has been on my heart for a long time. Starting from the time I was just about 11 years old, I have longed to find my husband and get married. When I reached upper high school and my older friends all started to get married, that desire began to intensify; and there have been entire years where a day barely went by without my feeling pain at my very single state. Much of the pain, I know now, was jealousy of the attention and respect that my married friends get - those of you who have been dating or married for a while, please, never underestimate the difficult social standing that single women find themselves in. Even in this modern and liberated age (a bit of sarcasm here) and at my advanced age, I still very often feel like I am less of an adult and less of a woman because I have never had a boyfriend.

But I can't blame all of those miserably lonely years on pure jealousy, either. There was a very real emptiness and longing to find the one who would complete me - the one who would give me the rest of my identity. Because for a long time, especially when I was younger, I viewed myself as little more than the future wife of Mr. Right - I just happened to be educating myself in the meantime, just to keep busy until he finally decided to arrive.

I discovered that basing your identity and worth on another person, especially one you haven't met yet, is a very difficult and empty state of life. It isn't like being a soldier's wife or living in a long-distance relationship, because in those situations you know there is a real person on the other side of the screen or at the other end of the phone line. When you are living solely for your future spouse whom you haven't met yet, it's like talking into a phone with no one on the other end. It hurts. It's not fulfilling. And I might add that, when taken to extreme levels, it saps mental and emotional strength that you need for living.

I have been in that situation. I know I've said this before, but when I was finishing high school, I never thought about what I wanted to do in college because I really thought that my future husband was going to come so quickly that I would only be there for a year or two at most, after which I would happily drop out and be a stay-at-home wife and mother. I was living with tunnel vision, and I was closed to any other possibility that the Lord might have for me.

I'm so thankful that no one told me then that I would be single for 7+ more years, because I honestly don't
think I could have stood it at that point. I am also thankful that my parents made me go to college even though I was clearly uninterested, because while I greatly admire the disciplined and mature young women who are living vibrant, joyful lives as stay-at-home daughters, I know now that I would have withered and atrophied in that life - died there on the vine, spending all of my best time and energy talking to the dial tone on my heart's phone.

As it is, I maintained my hope for and dependence on a speedy and young marriage through three years of Associate's degree studies and a year of working odd jobs (and I do mean odd). My wake-up call came on my first pre-enrollment visit to the four-year college. I might have told you about it before; but basically, after my advisor took me on a tour of the facilities I would be using and talked to me about my education and hopes, she looked me in the eye and said, "You're a very bright young lady, and I think you'd be a great fit for this department. We would love to have you as a student here."

What a shock that was! It had been many years since I had considered that I might have a work to do on my own, as Vicki, alone, just me - something that I was uniquely made and equipped to do, without having to wait on my husband to arrive. Could it be that I had a value and a purpose that was separate from my close-held identity as a future wife? Could it be that I was valued for my mind? For my gifts (which noticeably did not include homemaking)? For what I could contribute to the world outside my home?

It was difficult to transition from thinking of myself as a future wife to thinking of myself as just a woman, living today for the Lord. But I am so glad that I did.

These last three years at the four-year college have been the best of my life in every way. With each semester, my thirst for knowledge and my interest and involvement in the world have grown. I'm a published writer and designer, organization leader, lab assistant, and good student. I'm advancing every day in my study of Spanish, and recently went with a friend to several Spanish-only grocery stores in my town and handled myself moderately well. I've made friends of every sort and learned a lot from each one - especially the ones who are radically different from me in every way. And above all, I've learned so much about God - how I relate to Him, how to serve Him, and how to fall more in love with Him every day.

I am a whole person. I don't need my future husband to come and complete my identity, because I know what that identity is - a woman, perfectly loved and sustained by my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, equipped with gifts of His choosing, to minister to a sick and dying world. My life is here, right now, with the people that He has placed in my life and the work He has placed in my calendar for today, tomorrow, and next week. I was formed to bring glory to God in every circumstance, and that is my ultimate and highest purpose.

***

In Part 2 of this post, I want to take a minute to talk about how I view marriage now, because I have definitely not "arrived" at the place of perfect understanding of marriage. It's been strange, in fact, for me to realize that my life anchor is no longer rooted in that hope of future marriage. There are actually some issues in my current views that are just as problematic as my older views ... stay tuned!

Tonight, I Am ...

Seeing: The beautiful first night of the Sochi 2014 Winter Olympics!

Hearing: The quiet evening voices of the older members of my family - the little ones are long in bed.

Smelling: The fabric softener smell on my warm, cozy sweatshirt.

Tasting: My delicious apple-pie-flavored Greek yogurt.

Needing: Sleep!

Wanting: To renovate and revitalize my blog so it is as dynamic and helpful as all of the other blogs I follow.

Regretting: Losing my temper, snapping at my mom and shoving my laptop across the floor.

Feeling: A little bit sick, thoughtful, irritable, and glad for some rest.

Wishing: That I could wear maxi skirts without looking so tiny.

Thinking: About how cold it's going to be tomorrow (wind chill below -20 degrees!!).

Laughing: At Benedict Cumberbatch appearing on Sesame Street!!



Recovering: From a very difficult week that has involved a lot of snow and ice, doctors, fatigue, outside commitments, and experiencing the Lord working every minute on my behalf.

Believing: That the God of heaven is on my side and working everything out for my good.

Anticipating: Wearing the pretty outfit I have picked out tomorrow.

Dreaming: About Valentine's Day and wondering whether I'll have found my special someone by the time it rolls around next year.

Praying: For my dear friend Frannie, who is busy as a little bird building her house of dreams with her soon-to-be husband!

Reading: Great Expectations by Charles Dickens. Yes, again.  :-)

Singing: "Cavan Girl"



Wearing: My favorite hooded sweatshirt, black yoga pants, and fuzzy pink slipper socks.

Preparing: To go to bed!

Remembering: Watching my friend perform in one of my school's awesome musical shows a couple of months ago.

Trying: To stay on top of all of my confusing homework.

Questioning: What in the world I'm going to write about for my history paper due next week.

Fearing: That I might be catching a cold or the flu ...

Loving: This:



Googling: How to follow a low-sodium diet ... due to a recently diagnosed health problem, I now have to eat a very low-sodium diet; and I really haven't the faintest idea how to start. Definitely reading a lot about this after my weekend library trip.

Choosing: To sacrifice a few more minutes of sleep to finish this post.  ;-)

Working: On designing some posters for one of my student organizations.

Emailing: A dear friend who has been very supportive during this week and all the things I've been dealing with.

Gluing: Eeeehhm ... nothing ...

Texting: NOBODY. Hallelujah!! Facebook and text messaging have been sorely impinging on my introvert recharge time lately, and it's like stepping into an oasis to turn off the phone and log out of FB for a while!

Cracking: Eeeehhm ... nothing ...

Considering: Ways to make a difference in the things that really get me feeling passionate - workers' rights, ending poverty and hunger, and fighting abortion.

Turning: To look at the huge stack of CDs I archived all my photos onto this week.

Biting: Eeeehhm ... nothing ...

Reducing: The number of tabs I have open.  :-}

Longing: To have a husband, home, and family of my own - and yet rejoicing in the amount of peace that the Lord has given me over the last year in this area. I am not desperate anymore! I can truly say that if it is not the Lord's will for me to marry, I will not be sorry or unhappy in singleness. And I honestly mean that.

Suffering: With a slightly sore throat and a little bit of chills.

Recognizing: That it really is time for me to be getting to bed.

Checking: To make sure that I haven't forgotten to do anything before I go ...

Organizing: My backpack for tomorrow.

Practicing: Poor posture, lazy typing habits, and looking under my glasses with the apparent goal of giving myself eyestrain.

Reckoning: Myself very blessed for a huge number of reasons!

Smiling: Because:



I hope you all are having a wonderful evening, getting (or getting ready to get) some good rest, and staying warm!! I love you ladies!  <3

Hugs,
Vicki

Complicated

Navigating through this life is a lot more complicated than I thought it would be.

Life seemed so simple when I perched on my little chair in Sunday school and listened to the lesson. Don't lie. Don't cheat. Don't steal. Obey your parents, brush your teeth and eat your vegetables. Sure, I thought. I got this. Piece of cake.

When I got to high school, it still seemed simple. Save your purity for marriage. Don't consume alcohol, drugs, or rock music. Dress modestly. Wait and practice your homemaking skills until the right man comes along sometime around your nineteenth or twentieth birthday, and then you'll fall in love and get married and everything will be peachy. Sure, I thought. I got this. Piece of cake.

Except it's not.


I may not struggle with alcohol or lack of femininity, and I somehow manage to eat my vegetables, but life isn't nearly as cut-and-dried as it seemed like it would be. I never thought it would be possible to find myself singing along with pop and hard rock songs, yet they've become as necessary to my daily functioning as my high doses of caffeine. The thought of being attracted to a man who wasn't a Christian sounded absurd, and yet now I know it's dangerously possible. Dressing modestly always seemed easy, but when I'm surrounded by long, bare legs all day, the whisper to show a little skin gets louder than I ever thought it would.

But this complexity goes beyond temptation to sin, too. Whoever would have thought that the guy who drinks and curses could also be delightfully chivalrous? Who would think that the sweet, dedicated Christian girl could annoy the daylights out of you? Who would guess that you could be faced with the choice to go to work early and get things done or sit quietly in the sun and refresh your mind to be more productive - and there would be no right answer?

Life is complicated, and it doesn't always have one right answer.

I never could have believed that I would be in this college, doing the things I'm doing now. I'm twenty-five years old (yes, I had a birthday) - I thought surely I'd be married with several children by now, living in a nice peaceful little house, taking my little ones on field trips and finally mastering the art of keeping a home. Instead, I'm getting up early to go to a lab and test people's ears, staying out late to help lead meetings in Spanish, and trying to find time in between to go to class, hang out with awesome Christian friends, and work behind the scenes to support autism and fight abortion. No husband, peaceful cottage, or homeschooled little ones in sight.

But I have to say, even with all the complexities and perplexities that the world contains when it isn't completely black and white, I wouldn't want it any other way. It forces me to walk closer to Christ and rely more on His presence when my path is dappled with shades of gray than it does when it's in stark shadows of black and white. When I know something is right or wrong, I can choose the right on my own. But when I come up against situations that are a mixture, a mystery, or a choice between two equally good or bad things, then I'm forced to rely on the guidance of the Holy Spirit and the principles of Scripture to guide me through.

Life certainly isn't easy. But I'm loving it.

Afraid to be Loved

Not long ago, I ran into a young man whom I had known a while back, and we had a chance to talk for a little while. Now, he's a fairly special young man, but I had forgotten that; and I was amazed to feel myself changing into a completely different person than normal as he talked with me quietly, respectfully, asking me questions and treating me like an equal and a lady. I was warmed all over by his friendly smile and wave as we said goodbye. In fact, I wanted to see more of him. Could he tell that? Did he know?

With my parents' blessing, I shyly sent him a friend request on Facebook, just to let him know that I was open to seeing him again if he liked. Later that day, he accepted; and just for good measure, he dropped a friendly "like" on my profile picture. I felt giddy and lightheaded. Maybe he thought I was pretty! Maybe he liked me! Maybe ... !

But when I peeked at his page later, I found what I should have expected in the first place: photos of him and his girlfriend. My happy balloon of hope burst unceremoniously and plopped into a little crumpled pile in its usual place on the floor of my heart. So. He was just being friendly and polite to an old acquaintance. I should have known - it was silly of me to think that a guy like him could be interested in a silly old spinster like me.

But, the moral of this story is not that I was disappointed, like any normal girl would be. The surprising thing to me was that when all the air gushed out of my silly little hope-balloon, it turned out to be, not disappointment primarily, but relief.

I was relieved that things were staying the same. I was still unattractive; still single; still a plain little spinster puttering through unromantic days. My knees immediately grew weak and I could easily have collapsed on the kitchen floor from sheer relief.

Because the prospect of being in love terrifies me.

It's true. To me, falling in love represents the most frightening and extreme manifestation of lost control. When I am not in love, I am a rational being, walking along the path that I choose (within God's will, of course); I go where I want, do what I want, plan my own day, and have the power to walk away from a friend if she is dragging me down or if our friendship is not beneficial to us anymore. I get emotional, but I do it on my own time, when it's convenient. I can present myself any way I choose, because no one really knows me deep down inside - I am something of a mystery, and I like it that way, because I can keep my own private world to myself and only show others what I want them to see.

If I fell in love, everything would be completely the opposite. Lovers aren't rational. My emotions would be out of my control - I couldn't keep everything all bottled up until I was safe and hidden and alone at night; they would be too powerful. People would see how I was really feeling. It's always that way with lovers. And what about with him, my boyfriend/lover/husband? He would know everything! No more carefully upkept facade with him - he would know when I was depressed, grumpy, selfish, moody, giddy, or reckless. He would come into my private world and see all the secrets I keep there - not that I have anything to be ashamed of; but how can I share my midnight fantasies, my daytime reveries, my favorite music, my tears and secret smiles - how can I share those with another person? How could I ever trust anyone enough to let them see those things, especially someone as foreign as a man?

And most importantly of all, if I ever fell in love, I would no longer be walking alone. I couldn't just walk away from it - once the ring was on my finger, I would be sealed for life. Of course, there are many days and nights when I desperately wish I didn't have to be alone; but what about the many days and nights when I put my face in the wind and let my spirit run, rejoicing in knowing that my heart is free and doesn't belong to any mortal man? Could there ever be a man who would let me be alone when I'm in those moods? If not, would the sunsets and thunderstorms and autumn days still look the same if I had to share them with someone? Would I still seek after God in the same way as I do now? Or would my relationship with Him change?

Now, don't get me wrong, I haven't suddenly turned into a man-hater, and I still want to get married as much as ever. That's what bothers me. In theory, I love the idea of falling in love and getting married. I actually think I would be a pretty good wife, and I know I would be a very good mother. But in practice, anytime it looks like there actually might be a man for me, the thought just scares me to death. I'll happily give up my heart to a man as long as he's imaginary. But when he's flesh and blood, standing in front of me? I gasp and shrink way. I changed my mind. You can't have my heart. You might break it. Besides, I don't need you to take care of me anyway. I can take care of myself.

Something must be wrong with my attitude somewhere - it usually is. Lack of faith is the most logical choice. But this is one area where I can't just "venture out in faith" and see what God will do, because it involves the heart of another person; and it is likely to be just as sensitive and frightened as mine. And I would far rather have my own heart broken, than to break someone else's.

What can I do? How will I ever learn to accept love if I'm so deathly afraid of it?

Vicki

Find a Way to My Heart

Find a way to my heart, and I will always be with you
From wherever you are, I'll be waiting
I'll keep a place in my heart, you will see it shining through
So find a way to my heart, and I will, I will follow you

This journey's not easy for you, I know
If your footsteps get too faint to hear, I'll go
'Cause you know, questions are never that easy
And never the same
You have the answer, believe me
If you have the faith to
Find a way to my heart...

Time may come, and time may go, I know
If you should call out for me, I'll go
But you know, there is a code to be broken
I wrap it around
Without a word being spoken
Without a sound

There's a reason I hide my heart
Out of sight, out of mind

And when I find out just who you are,
The door will be open for you to
Find a way to my heart... 

***

"Find A Way to My Heart"
(music here)
Phil Collins

© 1989

It Still Hurts

Why does it still hurt?

Why do I go for so many days and weeks feeling perfectly content and happy, knowing that I am loved by the One Who designed me and rescued me, knowing that I have a great work to do and a huge wide world at my feet ...

... and then encounter the one thing that I am denied, the one thing I do not have, and feel the old familiar wave of nauseating pain rush over my heart?

It makes no sense to me.

I like being single. I do. Really. I love getting up in the morning and putting on what I want to wear, not worrying about whether he will like it or how it makes me look to him. I love coming home in the evenings and having no responsibilities other than helping with the family chores and doing my homework. I love not having the butterflies that permanently take up residence in my stomach when I'm in a relationship or think I will be - I really don't miss those. They make it hard to sleep and eat.

I'm happy with where I'm at. I'm not in a hurry to find a boyfriend or get married. I really feel like this most days:

So why does it still hurt?

Because it does. Not long ago, I found out within the space of half an hour that three people from the younger grades at my old church have gotten married since I last saw them. One of my good friends from high school recently got engaged. Some of my much younger relatives are dating now. As far as I know, all but a handful of my best friends are in steady relationships.

And then there's me. Twenty-four years old, fat and lazy, chilling on my parents' couch, watching Tangled and Star Trek.

When I hear a beautiful real-life love story, it does make me jealous, but only a little. What it really makes me is deeply angry at and resentful of myself. Because somehow, it must be my fault. It's because you're overweight. You have stringy hair. You're lazy and ugly and boring. You're childish and selfish. You're obnoxious. You're a phony and don't let anyone get close to you. You're too sinful. You're too worldly. All you care about is yourself.

When I calm down, I know that most of that is only slightly true, and I know that these self-whipping sessions are just a bad habit I picked up during a really hard period of my life. But they hurt. I make them hurt. I want to hurt.

But why?

Is it something sinful, some kind of puerile jealousy that just wants what everyone else has? Or the more adult version of the same thing, a feeling of inferiority because I haven't reached this important rite of adulthood? Is it discontentment or rebellion? Is it a genuine desire that bursts forth so violently because I keep it squashed most of the time?

I don't know. I really can't tell you. I just know that it hurts.

I guess all I can do for now is try to enjoy getting to "fire arrows into the sunset", while I sit back on my parents' comfortable couch and read about other people's relationships from the peacefulness of my own solitude ...

Love,
Vicki