Category: Community

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12:30 am February 9th 2009

I usually don’t like posting this much during a week but I cannot help but post today.
Today is what we refer to as MAPS day. It’s the anniversary of the awful accident that my two friends Jeff and Amy and I survived.
One year ago yesterday the three of us set out for Monterrey, Mexico. We were going to check out the place where Amy was going to move to and be a missionary. At roughly 12:30 a.m. on Feb 9th we were hit by a drunk driver head on on I-35. The three of us all had injuries but pretty minor when you take into account all that could have happened. Jeff, who was driving, was the worst with broken bones in both legs and a concussion. Amy, who was in the passenger seat, had shredded tendons in her ankle and major bruising from the seat belt. And I, who was asleep in the back seat (unbuckled) had a severe sprained ankle with contusions on my head, arms, and basically my whole body.
There is no doubt in any of our minds that God saved our lives. He kept us alive that night and also changed our lives forever. The next few months were extremely difficult for each of us in our own way. We grew very very close and they are my MAPS…which is spanish for BFF. (Literally … it means mejores amigos para siempre which translates Best Friends Forever).
I also appreciate the many people who showed their love and support of me the next few days when they got the awful news about the accident. The body of Christ was unbelievable in that time.
So today I celebrate life as well as a bond that cannot be broken with these two awe-inspiring people.
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For all things are from Him

I know sometimes that I rag on the whole being unemployed thing, because quite honestly, most of the time I don’t like it. BUT, I will say that there have been some great fruitful things that have come out of it. Mostly, I have found a new kind of dependence on God. I’ve frequently used the phrase “God provides” without really having a working understanding of what that even means. I moved home in late August without the slimmest idea of how long I’d be here or even how I would stay afloat. I can honestly say that these past 5 and a half months have looked nothing like I thought they would, and neither do the coming 6 months.
So I’ve decided to comprise a sort of list. A “What God has provided” list for me to take a moment and look back on. Shall we??
There of course is the obvious …. Time. Time to spend with my family in a horrible time of our lives. Time to spend with my goddaughter in what is proving to be one of the most difficult and forming years of her young life. Time to wrap my head around what it means to be a Seminary student. Time to just breathe and not have responsibilities.
Then there is a different kind of friendship. Most of my time here is spent with a very small group of people and almost all of them are married and with children of various ages. I don’t know what exactly that means about the stage of life I am. What I do know is that I am being shaped by my time with these women (and men). I am understanding more fully the work that goes into having a successful marriage and raising kids. I am being exposed to several types of parenting and the pros and cons of them. I am enjoying having these influences and knowing that each of these friends love me for who I am and the place I am in right now. They are great.
Also in the friendship category is what I’m going to call new friendship skills. This one needs to be split into two…
I’m learning in this time, how to be a better long distance friend. Now I’m not cured, I still have a hard time and sometimes let long distance get the best of me. But I find myself valuing the smallest forms of communication like texting or facebook chatting to the longer ones like skype or phone calls. (time wise). I am learning to make the effort to be in better communication and to have a better relationship with people farther away.
Second half – I am learning to be more real and less assuming with my friends here. I am allowing myself to have emotions and feel them and share them with my friends. I have long assumed that I am a “burden” on my friends when I’m hurting. That if I share what I’m really thinking that they’ll be like, ‘I’m out.’ I shared this with one of my friends this weekend and she was less than thrilled to hear that I’ve felt that way and clearly told me that she never expressed that toward me. It was good to hear, even though deep down I knew it. I am attempting at being more present with my friends despite my mood and realizing that even when I think I want to be alone, sometimes I’d rather be with them.
Next up is financially. I am still amazed at how God has continually provided for me exactly when I needed it. Whether that be a house-sitting job, a babysitting job or helping my mom with her business or even a change in insurance to save me money. He has kept me afloat financially and that is more than I can imagine. He is a Great God indeed.
Lastly, He has provided me with opportunities. Opportunities to do ministry with a wonderful group of 5th and 6th graders. Opportunities to talk ministry (which I sorely miss). Opportunities to serve others, and to be served. Opportunities to grow in my own faith. This time has not been fruitless and has not made me feel worthless (as a whole) because of the things that He provides in this category. Some of which I have talked about on here and will continue to talk about.
Mostly I just want to be thankful with this post. Thankful for all He has provided for me and the chances I get to look back and say, Wow God, look what you did. I don’t think in our culture we look at the little things He gives us every day enough.

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what? sorry no, I'm an avoider…

I’m kind of a failure.
The month of January is not yet over, but it’s almost there, and I have not finished my challenge. More so I should say I will not finish my challenge. But I’m okay with it. I blame this fact on the current events of my life. I spent the end of last week helping in the set up of the Covenant event that is currently going on in downtown Denver. And then I spent a good majority (like all of) Friday shuttling people back and forth from DIA and the hotel. And the whole weekend downtown at Connection (the part of event for youth pastors and worship pastors). So I have been non-stop going and therefore have not read much. So yea, I’ve failed at my January challenge of reading a ton of books. I basically only finished Lovely Bones.
But that’s neither here nor there as far as this post goes. Just a random general update.
So as I mentioned, I spent the whole weekend downtown at Connection. This was my 4th Connection (not consecutive, I missed last year) in my “ministry career” and usually, if I’m honest with myself, I find that I am mostly there for the community and fellowship of seeing past 4Cs interns that knew me in my high school years and other church people I’ve worked with and met over the years. This year, going into Connection, was no different. However, now that I’m on the other side, I find that God had a bigger purpose for me this year.
I went to more Seminars this year than in years past (2!). And I of course attended all the main sessions with all the great speakers. This year the theme was “The Beautiful Struggle.” The first session was all about how we as pastors (I use “we” lightly bc I’m not currently a pastor but you get my point) often minister out of places where we ourselves struggle personally, globally and in ministry. We were encouraged to turn in with a few people around us and share some personal struggles with each other. Now I have a problem sharing my struggles with my friends, nevermind complete strangers that I met five minutes ago. So I turned to those around me and let a couple of them share while avoiding eye contact with anyone directly in hopes to not have to share myself. Luckily I was in a large group and we didn’t make it to everyone before drawn back into the large group. I escaped that situation.
Then the rest of the day I got to spend time with my friends from KC. I got some much needed girl time when I agreed to go shopping with my friend Brooke. While wondering around Forever 21 Brooke started to ask me questions. Deep questions. Hard questions. Probing questions. So here I am, walking around, absently minding picking up sweatshirts and skirts, commenting on cuteness or not cuteness…. and attempting to sum up my feelings, emotions, general life going-ons. And it was hard. But at the same time I was glad she was asking…
The thing is, about 80% of the time I don’t want to be treated like the “dead dad” girl. Just like for most of my college life I didn’t want to be the “from a broken home” girl. So for that 80% of the time I don’t want anyone to ask how it’s going for me – grieving wise – and when in that mood when I am asked “How are you?”….”Great” rolls of my tongue. but then there’s that 20% of the time that I DO want someone to ask. I want people to remember that I’m hurting and that behind this mask of “I’m okay” is the pain of regret, guilt, anger, sadness and about 100 other unidentifiable emotions.
Then that night, in worship, I realized something pretty huge for me. God gave me this gift of being able to not be working or in a full-time ministry setting right now in order to give me the space/time/whatever to grieve and try and heal from my relationship with my dad and this sudden loss. Only the thing is, I’m an avoider. Meaning I run from my emotions in order to not feel like a victim. I’ve been this way my whole life, I know that I have, and honestly I’m okay with it. However, God is not okay with it. and He let me know that on Saturday night.
So Sunday morning found me in my best friend’s hotel room being open and raw with how my life is going. which has also sent me into a whirlwind of emotions and raw honesty. So that’s where I’m at. I am no longer allowing myself to answer questions on a surfacey level as long as the person asking is willing to hear the truth.
I tend to rant about being real. I have these high expections of the church being a place to be real and that friends should be able to handle your realness… but in that respect I am a HUGE hypocrite. I do not like being real. or vulnerable. or any other catch words we use for community. However I do believe that we should be more vulnerable and not shy away from struggles.
So here’s me trying to be real. Be prepared if you are my friend that I am going to be more real and if you can’t handle that, it’s okay to tell me. But be prepared if you ask me what’s going on in my head… you may not like the answer.

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you may tire of me, as our december sun is setting, cause I'm not who I used to be

Is it bad that I had to just go back to my last entry to remember my clever(less) little nickname for this January experiment? I’m going to take your silence as “no”… or maybe you responded “yes” in your head as to not hurt my feelings. Either way, that’s how my brain works (er, doesn’t work).
I added to the list the book The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold lended to me by my friend Jill. For those of you who don’t know (read: living under a rock) it’s the book that’s being released as a movie with the same title. It’s told from the point of view of Susie Salmon who is a jr high girl who died and is now in heaven looking down on her family as they cope/try to find answers about her death. I’m already about halfway through.
I’ve also completed 2 other books that are in a series of 4 books that I refuse to mention or discuss on this blog because of the fact that I KNOW I will be mocked my many people. I’m only saying this to feel accomplished to have finished two books already this month.
Which brings me to today. I got back from bible study and immediately sat down in the very oversized LazyBoy chair that has taken residence in my house for a long time. This chair is made of a black leather that has been worn soft and cushy over the years. I call it very oversize because it’s pretty big, it used to easily fit me and my puppy Zoe who we got when I was a senior in HS and who my mom gave up for adoption after I left for MI. boo. (Joey, our new dog, has no desire to cuddle with me). It also fits very comfortably my goddaughter and I when we like to snuggle up and watch TV together. But this afternoon it held just me, all curled up, with a book. I should not neglect to add that this chair was picked out and purchased by my dad and became known as “Dad’s Chair,” meaning we were not allowed to sit in it unless he was not home.
On the end table next to me is my little travel iHome holding my iPod playing mellow music starting with the Swell Season and followed by Snow Patrol.
All afternoon I’ve been curled up alternating between The Lovely Bones and Everybody Wants to Go to Heaven but Nobody Wants to Die (EWHNWD). It’s been a particularly rough day today in my attempts to grieve and not shut myself down. Which makes me think I shouldn’t sitting here reading these two books but alas, here I am.
As I read the Crowder/Hogan book, I came across a passage I’d like to share on here, as it has been running through my mind and needs out. This book is split into various sections that they go back and forth between. One of the sections is called “Conversations” where they put in a IM exchange between the two authors as kind of a running commentary on the parts that immediately proceed it. They also put in italics what they are thinking as they write to each other. It’s fascinating and sometimes hilarious to see where their minds go.
In most of the parts David Crowders thoughts are on his pastor Kyle’s death and the days following. In today’s part (4) he talks about going out for milkshakes with friends after the funeral and being in chilis and hearing a Death Cab song. He reflects on music first, then on this specific song and how he felt in that moment. He says:
 

How music now invades our
experiences withough permission. How it has
become unavoidable. There is always music
playing. When did this happen? When did we
decide that we need music everywhere?
Didn’t we realize what impact this
would have?Arbitrarily shaping what we feel
and what we will forever associate with this or that
experience? We are hopeless.
…..
I couldn’t believe Death Cab was coming through the
Chili’s speakers. Then. Why then?!
That moment was too volatile. It is reckless to
have this kind of music playing in such a public
space. And it wasn’t the sound of
“settling.” Ben was getting this moment all
wrong. Settling is a quiet and floating thing.
This was the sound of something too terrifically
loud and damaged and crumpled, and it was
rolling over me, and i simply could not believe
what I was having to listen to.
That night. After carrying my
friend in his coffin. After putting him in the
back of a hearse. A hearse! I put my friend in a
hearse!! After taking him back out and setting
him over his grave, Ben freaking Gibbard was
singing in his whiny little voice, and my heart
was tugged ffrom where it hung in my chest
and was suddenly sitting in front of me on the
table at Chili’s. And nothing was settling!
……
No. There was nothing settling in that
moment, yet the music played on, and Ben
kept singing and singing, and there I was,
forced to listen. But part of me loved
the sad, whiny song, even though
he wasn’t playing fair. Why was his voice
pulling my heart out of my chest?
Why would he do this to me? I wanted to cry.
I wanted to cry a cry that wouldn’t contort my
face and scare everyone. I didn’t believe what
Ben was singing. If it was “settling” I could’ve
cried a cry that was less fierce and horric.
The thing that came in waves left me hunched
and caused my body to shake and my mouth
to stretch out and out to the point it looked
almost like I was smiling. You would think
it was a smile except for the ridiculous wail coming
from my gut and out my throat with enough
force to throw wide my mouth. I understand now
the word gutteral. I was tired of this crying.
And Ben freaking Gibbard was doing this on
purpose. He was taking advantage of the
situation. I didn’t want this kind of crying. I
wanted to cry a quiet, settling cry.
I’ve been there all too recently and all too frequently. It’s funny how music is constantly shaping our experiences. I remember the song playing in the ambulance after our accident last February. I remember the song playing when I decided to move to MI in uncertaintly. My friend remembers the song playing just before she gave birth to her only daughter.
Music is everywhere and as someone who loves music, I don’t oppose. But there are moments and songs that seem to rip into our being and we’ll always remember that moment and how that song perfectly fit or how it made us almost fall apart in public.
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cause when a heart breaks, no it don't break even.

As you can tell, I haven’t been feeling much like blogging recently. Most of you know why, but if there is still those that don’t (I hate to do it over a blog but hey, that’s life) my dad passed away about two and a half weeks ago. There have been a lot of emotions and while I am no where near done processing, I did want to spew out a few random thoughts.
I’ve been listening to this Ben Rector song a lot recently. It’s called “Thank God I Miss You.” The lyrics are below, and they’ve touched my heart a lot. The truth of the matter is that I have a really hard time putting together words to explain how I feel. People ask and I usually give a shrug and an “I’m alright” when really there is a ton of other stuff going in my mind. This song says a lot of it. Mostly I can’t put together comprehensive thoughts about how I feel about my dad. Before his death we got to spend some time together and have closure, and I even got to do the eulogy at his funeral. The thing is, recalling all those memories of my dad makes me realize just how much I miss him and the impact he had on my life. The things he taught me, the way he loved me. I miss him.
But even just saying that doesn’t feel like enough to encompass what I feel. Ben Rector’s beautiful song helps me realize that although it hurts so much, I thank God that I miss him because missing him means that he was real. He was in my life and he loved me, I loved him too. I miss him because I allowed myself to feel and to love, even if that means unspeakable sorrow now.
for sometime I fear these words
are cheapened by the way they’re said
we do not mean them.
from a million miles away
words are all I know to say
so I am speaking to you right now.
so know I wrote this song
with all the words meaning what they mean
saying what they.
though it’s nothing you haven’t heard before
but I mean it more today,
believe me when I say,
I thank God I miss you.
I thank God I miss you.
from a hotel room and misunderstandings
my heart stands still and demands this candor.
although my hands shake I remain unshaken,
for the part that’s grounded is also taken
and that’s the way it should be.
The other thing rolling around in my head recently is this quote from William Irving that I heard on Criminal Minds this week. He said, “There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They are messengers of overwhelming grief…and unspeakable love.” I think this quote is so beautiful. So true and so real in my life right now. It’s okay to be sad. It’s okay to miss him. It’s okay to love.
I’ve been very blessed by people all around me loving me and allowing me time to be. It’s hard, and although I know it happens, I wish this never happens to anyone else. This is hard and unbelievably different from anything I’ve felt. This Ben Rector song and this William Irving quote is where I’m at. it’s messy and difficult, but it’s where I am. Straight up, that’s life sometimes. While God continues to be amazing and real, life still moves in slow motion. hearts still break.

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if fear hasn't killed me yet …

This morning at my bible study, Beth Moore spoke on Ester 4:11-17 and fear. Here are some of my personal thoughts on fear…
Fear is a funny thing. Most people have fears of things that are real, like spiders, snakes or the dark. But almost everyone has fear that is found deeper than those things. Our worst fears are not usually in the form of a thing we can identify but more so they are situational. Fear of death, of loneliness, of a loved one leaving us, of not being good enough. Whether we admit it or not, we have that fear that sort of eats us alive.
If we call ourselves followers of Christ we usually say that we trust that God will not let that fear happen to us. However, in doing that, we have placed a conditional faith on God. We are essentially saying, “God I’m trusting that you won’t let that happen because that would destroy me” We aren’t really trusting God at all. And when we do that, we’re only putting a band aid on an incision from surgery. Fear is something deep inside us, something that continues to torment us if we allow it to. We think that if that ever does happen then we’re ruined. We won’t be able to get over it, the fear is still there even if we say we trust in the Lord. I think we just feel better for a little bit.
See the thing is that the single most repeated command that God gives us throughout the Bible is this … “Do not be afraid.” Over and over again he commands us to not be afraid. And yet, we continue to be afraid. I mean yes, we’ve memorized the verses in the bible that say that the Lord will not forsake us, if God is for us who can be against us, and we can do all things through Christ who strengthens us. But when we get down to it, do we ever stop being fearful?
So then Beth Moore started to talk about courage. About how courage comes from the Latin word “cor” meaning heart. Then she said – courage comes from a heart convinced it is loved. In the New Testament Jesus says to his disciples, “Take courage! It is I. Do not be afraid.” It’s not even that he’s really saying that they shouldn’t be afraid, he’s more saying that he is with them so they can fear not. He says “Take courage” as if he’s holding it out to them in his hand, like ‘here, take it. Come on, I’m giving it to you.” I think so many times we have this fear in our lives that literally keeps us from doing things, great things, and it’s like God is holding out courage and we choose not to take it.
In Esther, the fear was literally death. She could go in front of the King like Mordecai was asking her but the penalty was death. More than likely, in her mind, she was gonna be killed if she did it. It wasn’t like there was chance she wouldn’t be killed, the chance was that she would be saved. Being saved by Xerxes’ scepter was the exception to the rule. She was literally facing death, but chose to take the courage provided for her by her faith in God that He was there with her.
While I recognize that a lot of people are afraid of death, I’m not. I’ve come to term with the fact that I’m going to die and in all honesty, I’m not dreading that. The hope I have in Jesus (not to be all preachy) is that I get something better in the next life. So yea, that’s not my fear. But I do have fear and to be honest I have a lot of it. I didn’t really know it, but it’s there. It’s abundant and it runs deep.
The thing is, for the past year (literally, maybe more than a year) God has been trying to call my attention to this fact. He’s been using a lot of different people and scriptures to show me something and while I recognize those moments while I’m in them, I didn’t understand how or why they connected. That is until today. Until Beth Moore, in all her southern charm, called it all to my attention. A dozen or so conversations with mentors/friends/students. Hours spent poring over specific scriptures. Tears spilt in heartache over not understanding this pain and fear – not having a name for it. Beth tied it up in a cute little package and presented it to me… all the way from Texas… through a DVD … that was recorded long before any of this happened in my life.
(Not buying it? Yea me neither, it’s clearly the hand of the Lord. Beth’s just a vessel. I do understand that, don’t worry.)
There are a lot of fill in the blanks in Beth Moore studies. But today there was one left blank, and it’s a glorious one. Beth points out that when you’re facing any kind of fear there is a sort of “IF ____________________, THEN __________.” For a shallow/humorous example, “IF a spider crawls on my leg, THEN I will die.” When you put your fear in the first blank, you always have a perceived consequence in the second blank. For your worst fear, that second blank is the fact that you’ll be done, ruined, won’t be able to go on. But if you play it out, you find a different consequence. Keep asking yourself “what if that happens, then what?” and when you fill in that second blank, keep asking, “then what?” until you come full circle and realize, that at the end of your dramatic (although real) situation … there’s God. Even if everything in your life is lost, God’s still there. He’s still standing right there and He can help pick you up and carry on.
This is not to say that I’ve perfected it, far from it. I took some good steps today. I took the courage God was holding out to me and tried conquering one of my fears. But I barely scratched the surface. It’s a long road when you’re trying to conquer those fears. Because I tend to ask myself, is fear really curable? Will I ever get to the point where I don’t have fear? Or is it merely recognizing that I have the choice to take the courage I’m being handed by the God that created me?

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I kind of like it when Beth Moore calls me "girlfriend"

So, I am a part of this bible study at my church that takes place on Tuesday mornings. We’re doing the Beth Moore Esther study (my first Beth Moore!). There are a ton of women in it and most weeks it’s the thing I look forward to most.
So there’s me, and a girl named Tate.. and then every other woman is married with children, some with grandchildren, some with grandchildren older than me. After the first week, Tate said to me, “Thanks for coming and bringing the average age down.” At first I was hesitant, I thought to myself that I wasn’t sure I wanted to do a Beth Moore study (too much dedication), I wanted something more with women my own age, or at least closer (too many stories that go over my head). Basically I came up with a lot of excuses but each time I thought one was legit God would sort of lean over my shoulder and say, “but you need this.” So I kept going, because who can argue with their Creator over what they need? I sure can’t.
So I go every week and sometimes sit through the craziest conversations, like two weeks ago when we started talking about beauty treatments and the room erupted with things like, “use olive oil instead of lotion” and all sorts of home remedies that I’m gonna be honest, sounded gross. Or last week when we got on a 20 minute tangent on disciplining your children…meaning beating them. Seriously. But also, I love it.
I love it because every Tuesday morning from 9-11 I get to open up the Bible with about 20 other women who love God and have lived life much longer than me. I get to learn from some of the finest women in our congregations but also, it’s a place where they honor my opinions, even ask for it sometimes. And not even in that condescending way that some older generations ask for our generation’s opinion, like, “Let’s hear from the twenty-somethings now.” More like, “Alicia, what do you think?”
I also love it because I am now in relationship with all these amazing women that I never would have even met until now. It’s so fun to walk into the fellowship hall and have all these women say hi and ask how my week was. I love it. It’s so fun.
Which also in a way makes me sad. Not for myself, but for the tons of young women my age that don’t take advantage of that. You see so often I feel like the 20somethings are constantly looking for a community of our own. Almost like we are looking for a church completely made up of people our age and we alienate ourselves from the greater christian population because we think they don’t get us or the way we want to live. I’ve totally found myself in this thought process, I want to find a group to study the Word with that are my age. I shy away from college aged ministry because well, I’m not in college and mostly it’s high schoolers who go to those things anyway. I also shy away from things that say “young adults” because it’s mostly really young married couples. or “singles” ministry because it’s like a dating game on crack.
I’ve been that person that makes an excuse for not having a community that I “fit” into, the thing is, in my lack of that sort of community I’ve found a different community. Not a perfect one mind you (besides I have a feeling no community can be perfect but that’s another post) but one that fulfills my needs and make me feel included and loved. One that prays for each other and challenges each other to be better at life. And only one other person is “my age.”
My fear is that we isolate ourselves from the greater population of our congregations. Don’t get me wrong, there are times that we need to be all about generational divisions. Youth ministry, children’s ministry… etc. But there’s also a time for crossing those boundaries and learning from each other. To be humble enough to know that you could learn a lesson from a 10 year old just like you can from an 80 year old.

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It's A-maize-ing.

So I’ve started to volunteer with C4 (which is actually supposed to be like C to the 4th, exponant style). Don’t ask me what it stands for cause I can’t ever remember, but what you need to know is that it is the youth group type night for the 5th and 6th graders at my home church. We meet twice a month and have some great times. Last friday we went to a corn maze up in Erie, CO for some fall fun. It was awesome. no it was beyond awesome! Seriously, it was so fun just running around the maze in the pitch black darkness with the kids. Total successful outing.
Let’s just throw in some quotes in here…
5th grade girl: “Alicia, you’re gonna be cold”
Me: “No I’m not, I’ve got my puffy vest on, it’s the warmest thing EVER!”
her: “but what about your arms”
Touche 5th grader, Touche….
5th grade boy: “Alicia, can I be in your group?”
Me: “Of course! but it’s probably gonna be all girls, so you might want to go with one of the boys.”
him: “It’s alright, I just wanna be with you.”
Tear.
Then my favorite, said by one of the moms that joined us. Said after we have been immersed in the maze for about a half an hour, while looking at the map and planning our route.
“WAIT! We’re on the black lines? I thought we were in the white part!”
Then a response by a 5th grade boy: “No, that’s the corn.”

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I remember when we were driving, driving in your car

I just finished this book called Angry Conversations with God by Susan E. Isaacs. I remember seeing this book in the HCC bookstore a couple times and thinking the cover was cute but never felt like reading it. Then on a whim I put a hold on it at the library (my new favorite thing btw, the library) and last week I got an e-mail saying it was in. So I picked it up. I was excited to read it, but I had no idea how amazing it was going to be.
Basically, without getting too far into it, Susan chronicles her journey including (but not limited to) finding a church, trying to be an actress, finding her “calling in life,” and finding a man. It is an unbelievably honest story of faith and struggling to figure out what it all means. I found it refreshing that she was really open about the fact that through most of her story she didn’t have the answers. It was great, seriously… go pick it up and read it.
But this isn’t a book review, so I’ll get to my point. Last night I was reading the last couple chapters when I came across a passage that kind of knocked the wind out of me …. metaphorically speaking that is. She had just had coffee (or was it lunch?) with an ex-boyfriend and had finally getting the “closure” that she had longed for with him. But for some reason she found herself in her car, crying. We’ve all been there right? (I’m not just talking about relationships here). Something happens and it sucks. But we say that it’s for the best, but we can’t help but second guess it all. Whether it’s good or bad, we are hurt and it sucks. Then I read this passage:
“I thought I was over him! So why did my heart still rip? Why did I still feel this sorrow? I got this strange sensation that God was with me. And he was angry. He was very angry–not at me and not at Jack. God was angry at the pain I was going through. I wondered if that was why God hated sin, because of the destruction it caused. For a moment I felt awe for a God who loved me enough to hate the things that hurt me without hating me for causing them. “
I know that God hurts when we are hurt by others for no good reason. He cries for us in our pain because he’s a loving Father. But does he really hate the pain even when we may have caused it ourselves? When we have backed ourselves into the corner and we are looking at the mess we’ve made, is God still angry that we’re going through that pain? Does God have the capability to hate the things that hurt us without hating us for causing them?
The answer is a resounding yes. God hates sin – true. God hates it because of the destruction it causes in our lives – true. But does God watch us screw up our lives and then sit back as we cry and say, “well Alicia, I told you so. I told you that if you did that, it would hurt.” No. He leans in and holds us in that pain, even when we did it to ourselves.
That blows me away, because even the best people in my life get frustrated when I screw up. There is no perfect person who doesn’t feel a twinge of desire to do an “I told you so” dance when someone messes up. Parents don’t watch you wreck a car and say, “I’m sorry you feel bad that you were texting and didn’t see that the traffic stop ahead of you” … at least not at first.
So this concept is foreign to us. The thought that Our God, creator of the universe, would have the ability to hate the pain we are in without hating us for putting ourselves in that place. I think that is pretty freaking amazing, if you ask me. And quite a revelation in my life at that.
You see I have plenty experience with the unfair kind of hurt. The kind that I didn’t bring upon myself but rather was ‘dealt’ to me. I know that God hates that kind of hurt in my life. No question. But I’ve always thought that when I’m mess up, when I invite that kind of pain into my life, that God just kind of sits back and lets me work it out on my own. I mean He’s not totally hands off, I know God is always present, he’s always with me. But I kind of have that feeling that when I have made a mess that God is … well, less than pleased because I knew it was going to end badly and I did it anyway. I spat in his face, I allowed myself to go there and now I have to clean up the mess. That’s why this revelation is so beautiful.
I’m not here confessing some sinful life that I’ve fallen into. In fact it’s quite the opposite. Even though I do struggle with the fact that I have been unemployed for a grand total of 7 weeks, I am really enjoying my Old testament class. I am having a blast diving deep into the scriptures and learning. I miss my friends in KC, but I am loving reconnecting with my old friends.
No matter what though, we all have our doubts about the way that things have come about. The decisions we’ve made and the consequences we’re experiencing because of those decisions. It’s nice to know though, when you’re feeling alone because you’ve backed yourself into that corner, that you’re not alone.

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how can you just walk away from me

Tonight I had to take my niece to her dance class. Now I don’t know how many of you guys know that I used to dance and I used to teach dance. So there is a little soft spot in my heart for dance and for dancers.
So I’m in this studio tonight watching Benny’s dance class and my eyes keep wandering around to the other studios where there are other classes going on, older classes. Then I see this girl come out of the other studio. She’s probably about 14 or 15, wearing her black leotard and pink tights. She stepped out of the studio and is standing over her dance bag. I went back to my book but glanced back at her when I realized she was just standing there. She was facing a window that to a room that was dark so she could see her reflection. She wasn’t going back into class, she wasn’t getting anything out of her bag, she was just standing there looking at herself.
So I looked a little closer. I could tell she was trying not to cry. She adjusted her leotard, smoothed her hair all while biting her lip and trying so hard not to cry. I knew that look. Then she reached down and pulled a knee brace out of her bag and slipped on over her tights. She stood there for a minute longer, still looking into her own reflection, avoiding eye contact with anyone else in the lobby although we were all looking at her. She took a deep breath and walked back into her class, ballet.
The thing about dancers (and really any athlete) is that they push through the hardships. If their dream is big enough and strong enough they will overcome. It’s a beautiful thing, and also can be a dangerous thing. Dancers in particular put their bodies through hell. Most end up having joints of 80 year olds at the age of 20. They go through lots of pain, as well as financial strife. The dedication is insane to any other person, but sometimes it can pay off.