Love Your Body As Yourself

The view we have if our bodies as either "good" or "bad" needs to stop being bsed on what it looks like.

What if everyone decided to start eating healthy and exercising because they loved their body; not because they needed to lose weight? What if a healthy lifestyle was like waxing your brand new Lambourghini or getting its oil changed? You already know it's a hot, amazing machine, and you're keeping it nice. Making it better, even. You don't really see people out there waxing a rust bucket that they hate.

So why name out bodies treated like that? Why is my body, no matter what I do or no matter how hard I try, never good enough?

Let me attempt something.

My body isn't the ideal image I have for it in my head.

I don't have six-pack abs or [That singer Mom likes]'s chiseled arms, but my body is perfect the way it is.

What if my goal toward a healthy lifestyle was to make my body the strongest, healthiest, most well-oiled machine that it possibly could be? But if I did all that I do without a single regard toward the outward results it has on my appearance?

Would all of reality stop? Would the earth stop and reverse direction?

I still really want those things for my body. I want six-pack abs and chiseled arms, if for nothing else but my own achievement. And I do plan to attain them, somehow, someday. (Preferably sooner than later.) But the health and maintanence of my body needs to come first and foremost from the love or my body. God's Word says that He formed me and my body before time, and created me in His image. Who am I to say that what He designed isn't good enough? 

Health needs to first start in the mind - realizing how incredible you and your body are and creating a desire to be treated well - and then act wisely upon that desire.

That's what health is - not looking like a model on a magazine, but falling in love with who you are, where you are, and treating yourself in the way that brings the most honor and respect to both you and He who designed you.

Meaning, if God designed your body to run on fuel - so give it the good stuff. 

He gave you joints and muscles, just like gears and engines - work them so they stay prime condition.

He gave you a brain more complex than the most powerful supercomputer - excercise it and feed it good thoughts, so it knows what it can achieve.

Basically,

Realize that God made you a masterpiece. Learn to love yourself. Never stop improving.

Basically,

You are incredible. Treat yourself that way.

The Human Nature of Hiding

When I'm feeling guity, I often avoid God. I run away and hide while He's looking for me. 

Why is that?

Well, I haven't spent time with Him lately like I should. I haven't been praying or reading my Bible much, or listening to worship music all the time, cause that's what I "should" be doing, right? And let's not forget that little attitude problem...

Surely God must be angry with me, then. Or at least at little irritated. He'll probably want to scold me when I talk to Him next, so I'll nonchalantly avoid Him for a few days, as if He's a bitter friend or parent I have offended.

Why do we do that? Why do we assume that's what the heart of God must be like, some Great Guilt Trip or the aweful Punisher in the Sky?

A book I was reading last night said, "They served God in the image they had created -- not by His true image, but by their own standards"; and, "Their fear of God was shaped by their own erroneous image of [Him]".

We place onto God the characteristics that we have experienced, either through parents or other authority figures. It's only natural, of course; it's what humans do. But that doesn't make it correct -- or even Biblical.

James 4:8 says to "Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you." Doesn't sound like the Great Guilt strip to me, but even Adam, the first human in existence, hid from God when he knew something wrong. 

But the Lord God called to the man, “Where are you?” He answered, “I heard you in the garden, and I was afraid because I was naked; so I hid.” (Genisis 3:9-10)

Why does it seem engrained in human nature to hide? It's like the concept that He might understand us (His creation), or want to listen to us, or even care about what we care about, is too far beyond our grasp. 

Psalm 116:2 says, "Because He bends down to listen, I will pray as long as I have breath."

1 Peter 5:7 - "Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you."

Psalm 55:22 - "Cast your cares on the Lord and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous be shaken."

Psalm 91:4, 15-16 - "He will cover you with his feathers,and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart. 

'He will call on me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him. With long life I will satisfy himand show him my salvation.'"

Just to name a few.

(If you really want to know about God's care and protection, read all of Psalm 91.)

God doesn't expect us to act perfect all the time. He simply wants us to draw near to Him, spend time in His presence -- both when we feel perfect and when we don't (which is most of the time). 

Time in the presence of God is like time in the shower; it cleans you off, warms you up, clears your thoughts, and refreshes you for a new day.

So... Maybe it's best not to avoid the shower when I'm feeling dirty.

-Rach

An Ache (RJE)

I'm going to be a little more vulnerable in talking about one of my deeper struggles lately. 

About six months ago, my friend whom I had feelings for got a girlfriend. His name is Alex, and up until partway through my year in GL, he was my best friend in the world. We talked all the time, about everything -- what we were learning, how to be a witness, new music, funny people we ran into during the week. He always made me laugh and could dive deep into matters of the human soul just as fast as I could (which is, I think, a rare trait).

He had feelings for me too, but we were never anything more than friends. (Not "technically", but I know onlookers would snicker otherwise.) I never wanted to be anything more. At least, not now I didn't. 

But maybe, maybe someday...

Truth is, I had hoped and thought that he would wait for me, after GL was done and I was ready. I thought that's what I would want when I was done. For a while I truly believed that he was the one.

But my standards and desires changed during the year. As amazing a friend, brother, and Christ-follower he is, maybe I might want something... more. Different, even. Someone who walks in all of these Truths that I've now learned, too. Prophectic destiny, the heart of a Son and Daughter, theological views, all of that. And I didn't want him to be a distraction to what I needed to focus on here and now, in GL.

So I gave him up, temporarily, and decided not to communicate with him for a while unless it was initiated by him. I bought and sent him a birthday present from Central America while we were on our missions trip, but aside from that there was nothing. 

And so everything just... faded. Our messages became few and far between. Maybe I thought we'd pick up where we left off once I graduated.

Then one night in May, my Facebook feed announced that he was in a relationship. 

I tried really hard to be okay. And maybe for a time, I was. 

I mean, we were just friends, right? I made it clear that was all that I wanted, and he agreed whole-heartedly.

But I thought.... I thought he would wait for me.

So did he just move on with his life? Forget about me? Did he think I had forgotten about him, having moved on to bigger and better things? Was there some kind of unspoken rejection signals sent between us?

I would love the chance to sit down and ask him all those things. For clarity's sake, if nothing else.

Ultimately (and I'm trying to be honest with myself here), I think I really would be fine with him having a girlfriend... if our friendship had remained the same. In fact, a girlfriend-element would have probably taken a good deal of awkwardness and guessing out of our relationship. I would know exactly where our friendship stood. That would have been nice. But we never talk anymore. 

I did finally muster up the courage to message him again, and ask if he would be uncomfortable still corresponding with me while dating her. He reassured me that I was still one of his dearest friends.

And things are crazy busy for two college students, I get that. He has his own life on the other side of the state and I have mine. We have different priorities now. But I just miss talking to him. I miss his goofy antics, I miss listening to music and laughing with him, I miss the way he used to challenge and encourage me. 

Affections or no, I really just miss his friendship.

But I know we can't ever be that close again. Not like we were. My heart strings couldn't take the pulling.

I miss those really late-night, soul-to-soul talks. I miss those hugs that came with them. But I know now that I can not share that level of closeness with any man again until he becomes my husband, if I don't want my heart to get cracked again.

Dr. Seuss said, "Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened." The nice thing about memories is that you can view them through a different lense, usually clearer. You can choose how you want to view them, with a filter of joy or of bitterness. I've chosen the former. I love smiling - and laughing - at the things that happened. But I rarely talk about them.

So yes, we're still friends. And still very good friends, apparently. But friends who pretty much never talk to each other. *shrug* I guess that's alright. We all have seasons. 

But there's still that dull ache when I think about him. Or when I see his pictures on Facebook. I've broken off soul-ties, I've talked to mentors about it, I've prayed and released him to be free and blessed in his life, wherever he goes. 

But there's still something special, in the memories. I don't know if it's The Lord, letting him continue to stand out in my mind for some purpose, or if it's something I need to continue to work to let go of. 

I talk to Jesus about it a lot. And I wish I could talk to other people about it. But it like there's a gap in my life that we just don't talk about... Or if we do, only in passing. 

"Hey, do you remember that one time when we...?"

"Oh yeah! And Alex was with us, right? That was so funny!"

We just...don't...talk about it. We don't talk about Alex. 

Any why is that? Why can't we?

Probably because people don't know what, if anything, happened, and they're scared to bring anything up. Or they've just forgotten. Maybe it was never a big deal to them. 

Some of my very favorite memories are with him. I want to enjoy them, I want to share them with others... But it's like a barricade that I can't get past. Alex isn't in my life anymore... And nobody was really sure of what our friendship "status" was... So we just don't talk about him.

It sounds like a breakup. Doesn't that sound like a breakup? "He disappeared and we never hear sbout him, and there's confusion and probably pain so we'll just pretend like that season didn't happen"? 

But... I need to talk about it. I need to process, maybe even hurt a little. I want to be able to smile fondly at memories of my friend, Alex Shin, that crazy Asian guy who did the weirdest, funniest, bestest things -- not the cringe at what did or didn't happen the  ignore it.

Sometimes I'm tempted to give into those questions -- "what does she have that I don't have?" "Would things have been different if we had stayed in better contact?" "Is there something wrong with me because he didn't wait for me?" "Does he ever think of me still?" and such ridiculousness like that. Truthfully, I am happy for them, and I'm glad to still have my friend, even at a distance. Really.

And I know who I am. I am still a Daughter, and I have a beautiful heart worth protecting, waiting, and fighting for. My husband, whoever he may be, is going to be awesome.

All the same, pain still happens sometimes. But it's meant to drive us farther into our Daddy's heart. In time, I know He'll heal the bruises. They won't even seem significant in the end. My future is too bright to sit and wallow without vision.

These things just take time. 

~Rach

More about Processes

Some days, I get so frustrated . Not necessarily because of my circumstances, but because of my lack of ability to deal with them the way that I know they should be dealt with.
Jesus spoke to the storm and said, "Peace, be still".
We have the authority to tell mountains of discouragement, stress, and oppression to get up and move.
Fear and anxiety have to leave when we choose to put our hope in the Lord.
Rest and rejuvination come not always from Him giving us energy, but in an exchange of energy between us and God. In communion with Him.
I want that communion so badly. That connection that is so deep, where I can just pour everything out onto Him and hear Him speak to me, so clearly, so sweetly.

And yet, on days like these, all I find myself really being able to do is just cry.

I'm learning that there is good in being very real and raw with your emotions. Be honest about your needs and vulnerability. It's okay to work through your feelings. That's what King David did - he worked through the honesty of his situation and emotions, but he concluded each psalm with the knowledge and trust that God would take care of it.

I think what's throwing me off in being real about my emotional and spiritual shortcomings, it that it feels so much more un-glamorous when you're actually in the middle of it.

I guess I just thought, "I went through GL. They taught us and gave us the tools to use in anything that comes across our path. No problem should be a problem for anymore!"

Not so easily done. Turns out GL grads aren't perfect know-it-alls, after all.

A Monday Kinda Monday (CEL)

There are times when I just sit in overwhelm. Just sit. Accomplishing nothing, worrying about everything. Not sure how I manage to let so much pile up without tackling enough to keep it manageable, but here I am, again... feeling just a little panicky and out of control.

Had a phenomenal weekend with students at our cabin, and that's a great relief. I know it's pointless to worry about the weather, but last week even that was on my plate: How to Entertain 25 High Schoolers In A Thimble-Sized Cabin During Three Days of Relentless Rain. Try googling games for THAT. (Hey God, THANK YOU FOR SUNNY SKIES, BEAUTIFUL VISTAS AND INCREDIBLE SWIMMING HOLES!!)

That was a biggie and it's a serious relief that everything went so well. Time with students who are enjoying themselves (without sneaking around and trying to break every rule possible) is sooo enjoyable! Their fun becomes mine.

Yet.

Here I am, back in Atlanta, feeling the pressing gnaw of things undone, decisions unmade, responsibilities unmet.

The List (always in caps) laughs at me.

New (well, sorta new - I cashed her check three months ago and she reminded me of that today) client is waiting to connect about her manuscript and character development. I love her story and have been excited about working on it, so what's the hold up? I mean besides trekking around the country for the past three wunnerful months, doing exactly as I please, and having no time leftover to work? And then deciding to sell the house and every single thing in it, including the frames that held my pictures, to move to the tiny, remote cabin? THAT'S not a time suck, nosirree.

No stress there. Nope, none. Ha.

Then there's the newspaper interview I conducted last week with the local guy who wrote a book and needed coverage. Wasn't until I began reading his work that I discovered the "n" word liberally used. Sigh. How do I write a story I've been assigned about someone's book that I don't believe anyone needs to read?

And then there's Stephanie, my client who lost her son and is writing her way through her grief. I just read through the posts that she has written so far and they fill me with sadness for her and the son she lost, the boy I also miss. We need to make progress on her book, but this one has its own timing. Somehow the delayed pace seems sacred. She is feeling her way. Yet my job is to help her make progress on her book and that's getting nowhere fast.

The house. The yard sales. The clutter. The realization that even when all of that is behind me (us, but feels like me), there will still be the reality of a future unfolding on the side of a remote mountain where I'm often alone. (Again, marriage is supposed to be "us," but so often just seems like "me.")  I know how poorly I'm equipped for life alone, though it's something part of me also craves. I'm always lonely there when I'm alone. Well, nearly always. I lose myself when I paint. And I do like some alone time. But the nights are endless. How will I change that?? Why am I the hermit who doesn't like to be alone?

I know I need to just fall on my knees and beg for rescue and forgiveness for not being more. Some days I'm just me and it doesn't feel like nearly enough.

School and People

As of today, I am now a working college student. 

Well, sort of. I don't start work until next week, but I will be working at an ice cream shop called The Blue Moo. It's supposed to only last a month or so until summer is really over, but should be fun until then. I always thought people who worked at ice cream and shave ice shops must have fun. 

My first two classes were this afternoon, and I really like that I have all afternoon classes this semester. Having free mornings is really nice, after being so used to getting up and out the door fairly pretty every morning.

I've noticed that I inertly tend to close myself off when I enter new situations by myself - which I've had to do a lot of in the past year, being away from my family and having to go at things by myself. Security and plane boarding at the airport, for example. 

Or in this case, the school setting. I want to be friendly to everyone, I really do. I want to start conversations and make friends. Probably more so than most people. But, you ever just enter a new situation and feel like you have to be on defense? That's the best way I can think to describe it, anyway. Like I'm a closed book that needs to be dusted off and reminded that it was made for reading. Or maybe a puppy or a small child, who's scared of you until you win their trust and are patient enough, then you're their new best friend. Anyway, I guess I just feel like maybe I just get scared of people. Then I'm closed-off. Then I see other people (going into the same classroom as me) interacting and smiling and making conversation, then I remember, "Oh yeah, I can be friendly!" Maybe it sounds silly, but it's a real thing. Sometimes I just watch the people and situation and wonder why I'm not involved in it too. (Because I haven't taken the initiate to speak up and become part of the conversation. Duh.)

Thinking back to when I took a running start course at the college my Junior year, and comparing it to now, I know I've improved a lot. Classroom dynamics may still be the same (I didn't grow up in a "classroom", after all), but I'm a lot more confident in that setting now. I find it easier to be myself and I'm not o scared. I want to be intentional about pursuing relationships with others in my classes, reach out to some of them and be a blessing. I think this campus is one of the places The Lord let me here to impact. 

There's still that ol' shyness, though. In writing class this afternoon, we sat in a circle and took turns reading a fun questionnaire about ourselves that we had filled out. I wasn't nervous, per say, but I remember my face getting hot when it was my turn and my knew my cheeks were turning pink. Being the center of attention just makes me uncomfortable sometimes. But I think it's more of an intimidation-by-people thing. Feeling inferior is also something I've battled for many years (and am overcoming), but it seems to often show itself most often in these "I'm-by-myself-in-a-crowd-of-new-people" situations. Or in just typical social situations, I'm caught off-guard when someone unexpectantly focuses the attention on me. I find it difficult to just relax and be myself then. I don't know if I believe that it's just the way I'm wired, because I feel that it's something I can conquer as I become more comfortable with just being myself. And that's something that will happen over time, as I spend more time with my Father - as His thoughts about me penetrate my own. Someone said in GL this year that, "even the most jagged places become smooth, with time in the river."

So I am hopeful, very hopeful. I think The Lord has some great opportunities for me ahead, and I'm excited to just..... well, keep interacting with people, I guess. Practice makes perfect, right? And people are awesome. Life is good.

Shouldn't I be further along by now?

That's the question that I keep asking myself. Shouldn't I, though? Shouldn't I have it all together, and be thriving? I just got out of GL, after all! I thought by now I would be "fixed", so to speak - I thought I would be done fighting insecurity, depression, and discouragement, happily dancing through the rest of my life with a smile on my content face. Sure, I might run into problems, but I would always know what to do with them because of all the nifty tools I got in GL! 

That there is proof that I am an idealist. And these words that I write now, are proof that reality is... well, real. 

The thing is, nobody has it together when we get out of GL. Maybe nobody ever does in their entire lives. Maybe that's the way that God intended it - we never have it all together, but we reach the place where we've fallen into the steady dance and rhythm of depending on Him.

In any case, I don't feel like I've hit the ground running yet. I feel like GL was a swing set that we just jumped off of, but haven't yet landed out of. I feel like when school and my job starts then my feet will start touching soil, but right now I'm still up in the air. 

Since coming back home to Montana, I've fought discouragement a lot. I've cried, a lot. Seriously. I feel kinda ridiculous. It's so strange, coming back to this familiar place. It can be so easy for me to think that I'm falling back into who I was and how I acted before. Back into something that I never want to be again. I get irritated at my family still. I have wrong thoughts, and wrong motives. There are times when all I want to do is cry and scream for frustration, throw something and pull at my hair. There are times when I just want to curl up in a ball.

Shouldn't this be easier? 

Shouldn't I be loving my family all the time? Have infinite patience for my sister? Shouldn't my parents' and grandparents' idiosyncrasies just roll off my back now, like rain off my windshield back in Washington? 

If Daddy lead me back here for a reason... Shouldn't I feel fulfilled by now?

Yesterday, I pulled my car over behind the gas station, layed my head against the steering wheel and just burst into tears. Sometimes I feel like this is too much. Yet, outwardly, there's not really that much stuff coming at me. I mean, I've got no job (yet), school hasn't started yet, I've just been bumming around, really.

 I don't understand why I feel this weight bearing down on my mind, all the time. It tells me to give up. It tells me that I'm going back to the old Rachel, to life as it always was in before in Libby, before GL. The life where I always felt that same weight on my spirit but never reached out to anyone about it; the life where I was so insecure about my looks and my value that I didn't know if anyone could ever fall in love with me, completely; the life where I didn't truly believe that Daddy was that extravagantly good to me. It tells me that I haven't really grown that much, that GL didn't really do me much good. It tells me that I can't/won't make a difference he and that I better just sink into the rhythm and let life do what it will, like everyone else around here. 

This morning, after growing increasingly frustrated with my mom, I shut myself in my room and cried it out again. As much as I sincerely enjoy crying, lately I haven't because I feel like it only pushes me deeper into frustration instead of releasing tension. But this morning was different. Today, instead of feeling like I was just "venting" to God, I felt like I was actually pouring it out onto Him. I read Psalms about The Lord being my defense, and my refuge. About how a righteous man, though he fall seven times, will always get back up. About how The Lord gives us the desires of our hearts, when we delight ourselves in Him.

This morning has been particularly stressful. But in the midst of it I find myself saying, "You are my defense, Lord, and I trust you."

The enemy has no authority or power to take me out. Though I fall, I will always get back up. I don't understand how or why, but God has given me His righteousness, as my defense. 

I am confident in blessing, confident in His favor on my life. The Lord has called me out by name, as a light in the darkness. It's...... dark, but He won't forsake me. Change is coming, and for the better.