Tonight has definitely been a night reflection. And conviction. I've been thinking about how much I limit myself because of other people. I tend to not share things, not speak out, because of a fear of rejection. I believe most people have a tendency to avoid rejection at all costs, but it's not necessarily the safe route to take. How many opportunities have we missed out on because we were too afraid someone would judge us? How many times have I ignored God when He nudged me to do or say something to someone who really needed what I had? Too many to count, I'm afraid.
My biggest area of self-limitation is definitely in writing. Or anything else that requires me to be even slightly creative. I have an innate fear that says, "Anyone who reads anything I write will automatically compare me to every person who is better than I am." In reality, I know most people read things without making such comparisons, but my brain always ignores this fact. Fortunately, tonight I hung out with some pretty wise people who reminded me that it doesn't matter if I'm the best at what I do, as long as I'm doing what God has called me to do. I may not be the best musician, but that doesn't mean I should ever stop playing guitar. I may not be the best poet, but I have no intentions of retiring my pen anytime soon. On that note, here's a poem I wrote in....ninth grade? Nonetheless, this will have to do for now:
"What a beautiful fall!"
You cried from Your throne,
"What a priceless memory;
I beg of you, open your heart,
And let yourself yearn for me!
"And when you do,
I will come down
In a fire for the unesteemed;
I'll engulf you in My glorious blaze,
And scar you with burns of the redeemed!"
Sunday, September 16, 2012
Monday, September 3, 2012
25 Things You Didn't Know About Me
Because I am obviously an important part of your life, you might wanna know these things:
1.My favorite color is yellow.
2. I have a black schnauzer named Noah.
3. I have a really cool roommate. (She paid me to say that...)
4. I have an unnatural obsession with sock monkeys.
5. I also have an unnatural obsession with various athletes from the 2012 Olympics (mostly Lolo Jones and Sydney Leroux.....they're cool people, alright?!?!)
6. I hate birds with a burning passion. Hate them.
7. Sometimes I count the number of words in sentences as people talk....
8. Other times I spell words out in my head. Over and over and over and over again...
9. I play guitar and sing really loud when I'm home alone.
10. It takes no less than 30 bobby pins to contain my hair on a good day. -_-
11. Rice cakes with peanut butter and banana are my life.
12. Just kidding, Jesus is.
13. But really...they're the bomb.
14. I'm also addicted to jalapenos.
15. I'm half Mexican but can't speak Spanish, cook, or dance. I am a shame to the Mexican race.
16. I like guys with beards (is that an awkward thing to say?...)
17. I love dogs more than children. (Except for my younger cousins - they're awesome & super cute!)
18. I still enjoy coloring, but don't have the attention span to ever finish a picture....
19. Favorite movies: Miss Congeniality, The Proposal (cuz Ryan Reynolds is hot), anything else that has Sandra Bullock in it, and anything with Hugh Jackman...cuz he's hot too...
20. My Monday nights still feel empty because the show House went off the air. It's been over 3 months and I'm still sad. Maybe I have a problem...
21. My favorite holiday is Christmas cuz I love buying stuff for people!!!!
22. If you can find me a stuffed sock monkey with a mustache we'll be best friends for life.
23. Spanish class has been and will always be my least favorite class. -_-
24. I use this guy: -_- waaaaay too much.
25. I love writing poetry when I'm emotional or apathetic.
I hope this experience brings us closer together. I know I'm feelin' the love! Okay, no I'm not. I lied. I'm a liar. That's number 26.
1.My favorite color is yellow.
2. I have a black schnauzer named Noah.
3. I have a really cool roommate. (She paid me to say that...)
4. I have an unnatural obsession with sock monkeys.
5. I also have an unnatural obsession with various athletes from the 2012 Olympics (mostly Lolo Jones and Sydney Leroux.....they're cool people, alright?!?!)
6. I hate birds with a burning passion. Hate them.
7. Sometimes I count the number of words in sentences as people talk....
8. Other times I spell words out in my head. Over and over and over and over again...
9. I play guitar and sing really loud when I'm home alone.
10. It takes no less than 30 bobby pins to contain my hair on a good day. -_-
11. Rice cakes with peanut butter and banana are my life.
12. Just kidding, Jesus is.
13. But really...they're the bomb.
14. I'm also addicted to jalapenos.
15. I'm half Mexican but can't speak Spanish, cook, or dance. I am a shame to the Mexican race.
16. I like guys with beards (is that an awkward thing to say?...)
17. I love dogs more than children. (Except for my younger cousins - they're awesome & super cute!)
18. I still enjoy coloring, but don't have the attention span to ever finish a picture....
19. Favorite movies: Miss Congeniality, The Proposal (cuz Ryan Reynolds is hot), anything else that has Sandra Bullock in it, and anything with Hugh Jackman...cuz he's hot too...
20. My Monday nights still feel empty because the show House went off the air. It's been over 3 months and I'm still sad. Maybe I have a problem...
21. My favorite holiday is Christmas cuz I love buying stuff for people!!!!
22. If you can find me a stuffed sock monkey with a mustache we'll be best friends for life.
23. Spanish class has been and will always be my least favorite class. -_-
24. I use this guy: -_- waaaaay too much.
25. I love writing poetry when I'm emotional or apathetic.
I hope this experience brings us closer together. I know I'm feelin' the love! Okay, no I'm not. I lied. I'm a liar. That's number 26.
Saturday, September 1, 2012
You're Never Too Smart to Be Wrong
Growing up, I learned to appreciate people who challenge my way of thinking. Having gone to a Christian school for so long, I'm no stranger to having your "solid" beliefs yanked from under your feet in a matter seconds. We humans (as opposed to dogs?) tend to believe things without having any real evidence or reasoning for following those ideas; sometimes we pick up philosophical baggage without checking the contents. I've met many interesting people here at Baylor, most of whom have worldviews that are relatively different from my own, but I really appreciate the many exercises in both apologetics and learning when to keep my mouth shut!
Tonight I didn't find myself debating a Hindu or Buddhist. I wasn't discussing the many holes in the evolutionary theory. I wasn't even trying to prove the existence of God to someone who was fervently against such a ridiculous idea. I was simply sharing my joy in Christianity with a fellow believer, but in the process, I discovered an area in which I could use a little reform. My friend was telling me about the disgust he finds in seeing frilly crosses hanging around people's necks or mounted above a fireplace. As he put it, the cross was meant to be something that's "horrifying" for us to look at. As someone who has seen such crosses and commented on how beautiful they are, I was actually momentarily offended. How dare he imply I take Christ's death lightly! Of course I realize the magnitude of His sacrifice! But then I stopped myself. And then I questioned myself. And then I corrected myself. My friend wasn't trying to imply anything negative about me or anyone else who's ever purchased a bejeweled cross from Hobby Lobby. No, he was looking at the deeper implications. He is certainly right in saying that the cross is an overwhelming symbol of torture and sacrifice that has become a commonplace adornment for Christians and non-Christians alike. Most people wearing a cross don't realize the weight that should come with such a symbol, and instead regard it as if they were wearing a star or octagon (yeah, I've never seen an octo-neclace either...). Although I am a devout Christian and cherish the crucifixion, this conversation has caused me to question my idea of cherishing. If I really grasped the "horror" of seeing a man whipped to the bone and pierced by nails in the wrists and feet, I don't know that I would want to hang a glorified version of a torture device next to my family portrait. Does this mean I've radically changed my view of decorative crosses? Of course not, because there is always room for expressing the beauty that accompanies the crucifixion, but I can certainly say that I will never look at "frilly" crosses the same ever again.
Tonight I didn't find myself debating a Hindu or Buddhist. I wasn't discussing the many holes in the evolutionary theory. I wasn't even trying to prove the existence of God to someone who was fervently against such a ridiculous idea. I was simply sharing my joy in Christianity with a fellow believer, but in the process, I discovered an area in which I could use a little reform. My friend was telling me about the disgust he finds in seeing frilly crosses hanging around people's necks or mounted above a fireplace. As he put it, the cross was meant to be something that's "horrifying" for us to look at. As someone who has seen such crosses and commented on how beautiful they are, I was actually momentarily offended. How dare he imply I take Christ's death lightly! Of course I realize the magnitude of His sacrifice! But then I stopped myself. And then I questioned myself. And then I corrected myself. My friend wasn't trying to imply anything negative about me or anyone else who's ever purchased a bejeweled cross from Hobby Lobby. No, he was looking at the deeper implications. He is certainly right in saying that the cross is an overwhelming symbol of torture and sacrifice that has become a commonplace adornment for Christians and non-Christians alike. Most people wearing a cross don't realize the weight that should come with such a symbol, and instead regard it as if they were wearing a star or octagon (yeah, I've never seen an octo-neclace either...). Although I am a devout Christian and cherish the crucifixion, this conversation has caused me to question my idea of cherishing. If I really grasped the "horror" of seeing a man whipped to the bone and pierced by nails in the wrists and feet, I don't know that I would want to hang a glorified version of a torture device next to my family portrait. Does this mean I've radically changed my view of decorative crosses? Of course not, because there is always room for expressing the beauty that accompanies the crucifixion, but I can certainly say that I will never look at "frilly" crosses the same ever again.
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
This Is Me.
As most of you know, I recently began a new journey in life. This season will bring joy and fulfillment, but will also inevitably present a new set of challenges for me. I want the opportunity to share the many coming celebrations and pitfalls with all who wish to listen!
I understand that my blog's title may have stirred a few questions. What aspect of humanity is a tragedy, and what is being reborn? The idea of me (or anyone else) being tragically human reflects the fact that I am consistently seeking a level of perfection I'll never attain. I am limited by both physical and spiritual laws that determine the depth of my life experiences. Humanity is often a crippling condition that forms a separation between myself and the God I love. Life is a series of failures, many of which are our own doing. Choices I make deepen the chasm that has frequented the space existing between my heart and the Lord.
I know I sound awfully pessimistic and might be discouraging some of you from ever reading my ramblings again, but I can freely state these realities because I know there's grace and redemption to be found in Christ. The God I serve fills the cracks in my heart that can't hold love. He silences the voices that tell me I'm not good enough. He annihilates the regrets that propagate with failure. He's taken my old, damaged self and has given new life to that which once looked hopeless. The imperfect nature I share with all of you is daily renewed by grace, daily reborn. Beautifully reborn. We all make mistakes, but have access to hope, and only we can allow that rebirth to take place in our hearts.
But then again, maybe my blog title didn't stir up any questions at all, in which case I just wasted half an hour of my life. Okay I lied. It was an hour. Maybe even two (I had to revise, alright?!).
I hope that in the weeks and months to come you enjoy reading this blog as much as I'll enjoy pounding it out on my computer. I'll admit it's rather hard to publish thoughts like these because they're so near to my heart and represent who I pretty much am as a person. With that said, if the only people who ever read these entries are my mom and my dog, I just might be okay with that :)
I understand that my blog's title may have stirred a few questions. What aspect of humanity is a tragedy, and what is being reborn? The idea of me (or anyone else) being tragically human reflects the fact that I am consistently seeking a level of perfection I'll never attain. I am limited by both physical and spiritual laws that determine the depth of my life experiences. Humanity is often a crippling condition that forms a separation between myself and the God I love. Life is a series of failures, many of which are our own doing. Choices I make deepen the chasm that has frequented the space existing between my heart and the Lord.
I know I sound awfully pessimistic and might be discouraging some of you from ever reading my ramblings again, but I can freely state these realities because I know there's grace and redemption to be found in Christ. The God I serve fills the cracks in my heart that can't hold love. He silences the voices that tell me I'm not good enough. He annihilates the regrets that propagate with failure. He's taken my old, damaged self and has given new life to that which once looked hopeless. The imperfect nature I share with all of you is daily renewed by grace, daily reborn. Beautifully reborn. We all make mistakes, but have access to hope, and only we can allow that rebirth to take place in our hearts.
But then again, maybe my blog title didn't stir up any questions at all, in which case I just wasted half an hour of my life. Okay I lied. It was an hour. Maybe even two (I had to revise, alright?!).
I hope that in the weeks and months to come you enjoy reading this blog as much as I'll enjoy pounding it out on my computer. I'll admit it's rather hard to publish thoughts like these because they're so near to my heart and represent who I pretty much am as a person. With that said, if the only people who ever read these entries are my mom and my dog, I just might be okay with that :)
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