Ralphie, valentines, and thoughts on being chosen.

I went through a season of watching the Simpsons early in college. There was one Valentine’s Day episode where Lisa brings valentines to school for all of the kids in her class. She gives Ralphie one with a train on it that reads “I choo-choo-choose you!” As it turned out, the valentine from Lisa was the only one Ralphie received and he spends the rest of the episode doting over her, convinced they were meant to be.

It’s ridiculous and humorous, but I think there’s something going on there.

Like maybe to make sure if you don’t like like someone to be sure you’re not the only valentine they get. Am I right?

But seriously, one simple locomotive card made little Ralphie believe someone picked him and it completely changed how he was living his life. Living believing the opposite, though, can have just as powerful of an effect. I know I get all kinds of weird when I’m not feeling chosen.

I remember working super hard in sports in elementary and high school, so I would be among the first called when it came to picking teams. Early in elementary school, I was tiny and clumsy, but I worked hard and spent hours training and practicing sports. I loved the return of being picked at the beginning for teams; having people see something worthwhile in me that they wanted to be connected to.

In a season where I find myself single in my late 20’s [gulp], and no amount of practicing catching dodgeballs or shooting free throws can help my chances, I battle feelings of not being chosen. Typically, I find it fairly easy to see the blessings singleness offers (though, I wouldn’t be opposed to experiencing the blessings of another kind of season). But there are days, when doubts creep in and the enemy whispers:

“You know, if everyone in the world had to choose only one person, you wouldn’t be anyone’s first pick. You would be alone.”

Ouch.

It’s probably one of the most devastating thoughts I’ve had in my adult life. And, for me, among the hardest things of singleness.

I think that’s what makes marriage so incredible. You are committing to choosing this one person every single day for the rest of your lives. In difficulty, in jerkiness, in delightfulness, in adventure, in offers of something or someone that could be better, they are the one you pick.

But what I've come to realize is there is often a gap between our feelings and the truth. Even in marriage, as my friends have shared with me, there are days they don’t always feel picked even when they know they are. And the same is true for me.

If you’re like me and battle those “not chosen” feelings, we can hang on to these two things:

1. You were picked long before anyone on earth could pick you. Out of eternity, the Trinity had a conversation about you and you were an idea so good they couldn’t shake you. You HAD to be made. If that’s not chosen, I don’t know what is.
2. I believe it’s incredibly important to let people know you pick them. We are designed for community; being known and loved and not just out of obligation, but because someone chooses us. However, we were made to be fully known and completely loved. No amount of people choosing you or me can attain that. That’s a Jesus kind of love – one that lays down his life for his friends.

And that’s enough, whether or not it feels like it some days.

And to those who have your person picked and they pick you back, I know there are days that being picked by him or her doesn’t feel like enough. I hope you also feel so picked by your community. We can’t be filled by only one person.

But could I give us all a suggestion?

Show your people you pick them this week. Heck, pick someone you don’t normally pick this week for awhile. But especially for your single people, take a moment to let them know they are picked. Sometimes, on days of doubt or holidays that leave us uncertain we have reason to celebrate, we need a little bit of an extra reminder. A dinner invite, a cup of coffee, a text, just to let us know we’re thought of and worthy of your time and energy.

It reminds us we’re not alone. It reminds us that even solo, wondering what things might be keeping us that way, that we can be picked. It gives us a glimpse of the massive choice Jesus made about us, so embarrassingly and vulnerably choosing those who weren’t remotely interested. In any and every season, that’s you.

You are chosen, my friend. I am, too. Let’s agree to remind each other, okay?

fall: God's lesson about the beauty of death.

Since I can remember, I’ve been the little girl that loved to soak up every moment of summer.  No school, bikes, pools.  But something in me has shifted in the last few years.  After years of summer confidently standing in the number one spot, fall has wiggled its way in to gain the gold.  Maybe it was my first Phoenix summer a few years ago that began a wedge between summer and me.  At just that time, I returned to Minnesota for the most magical season of color and crispness.  Some of my favorite moments with the Lord have been spent running or sitting along a lovely walking path that parallels the Mississippi River that splits Minneapolis from St. Paul.  The path is best in fall with massive deciduous trees shedding color combinations only God himself could create.  The crisp air on this girl’s face inspired and empowered me with new energy; perhaps a necessary jolt before the winter hibernation set in.

It’s the perfect time of year for a walk with a sweater and scarf.  Just when it gets a little too chilly, you can find your way into a cozy coffee shop that smells of sweet cider drinks and warm conversation.  There’s just something about this season.  Fall makes me feel alive and romanced.  I grieved missing the leaves, the orchards, and the sweatshirt weather this year as I sit by the pool in capris and a t-shirt.  The desert doesn’t do fall quite like Minnesota or New England, but there are echoes of the same refreshing sentiment.  I love the smell of fire pits in the evening and the ability to be outside again after our season of summer hibernation.

This season just resonates in me.  Its beauty and romance are just captivating to me and I wanted to figure out why.  Why is a season of death so stunning?  That’s really what it is.  The trees shedding their dead and burying them into expired lawns.  It’s a gorgeous death.  I got a little concerned for a bit that maybe at my core, I was enamored with a season of dying and my future will be resigned to reading Poe and wear black jackets and eyeliner.

But I don’t think that’s the case.  What if God, at the fall of humanity, weaved His redemption narrative into creation?  I mean, that sounds pretty simple, right?  We see dead things making soil rich to bring new life.  New growth emerges from out of the snowy winter.  We see parallel stories to Christ everywhere.  Maybe it’s been obvious to everyone else all along, but I have been captured these past few weeks by this notion:  God weaved a season of beautiful death into creation’s rhythm so it would already be familiar to our souls.

Think about it.  Death is the most ugly thing in existence.  It can be gory, gross, the most destructive and permanent part of life.  It goes against everything we are as created beings to find death beautiful.  So perhaps God did some foreshadowing in nature to prepare us and familiarize our beings with this seemingly oxymoronic concept that is essential to the Gospel.  Jesus took the most horrid death imaginable and redefined love and beauty where a curse once lived.  It’s a stretch for us to believe that God not only makes beautiful things out of the dust and dead, but He made death itself beautiful.  God shedding and killing our old selves to make us look more like him is beautiful death.  In a very literal way, letting go of life here to enter into eternity will be the most beautiful and true moment our souls will ever know.  I struggle to grasp it all, but Fall helps me to trust it’s possible.  I’m grateful today that God helps us see images of His truth in what He’s created because He knows our lack of faith and understanding.  What a good Dad.

Some of the most wonderful glory I’ve witnessed has been through this season of death.  It’s taught me to pay attention in other life seasons where death seems to prevail.  In relationships, in jobs, in health, in tragedy.  The promise stands that God is making it beautiful.  If we don’t stop and take a walk among what is dying, we may miss the beauty He’s painting into death to woo us, comfort us, and draw us further into His romantic story of redemption.  May we never miss it.  

as the seasons change.

The sun is warm and bright.  The degrees are in the 70's and the snow is gone.  Gradually you see the people of the north land peeking out the window to see if the dreaded winter monster has left.  It's a fickle monster, but at least for awhile it's away.  It might come to scare us again before the summer, but for now it looks like the seasons are changing.  The Cities come to life.  Patios open.  The warmth brings exhilaration and relief.  I must admit it takes me a good while to not feel naked without a scarf, but I embrace the change.  The warm breeze brings hints of new adventure to come as the seasons change.

I've mentioned seasons before (see "seasons: alone leads to together") on this blog.  They are an important pattern in life.  It's God's way of letting us know that He is still moving and moving forward.  It's awe inspiring.  You get to experience the richness of that season--be it sledding in the snow, strolling through leaves, swimming in the lake, or watching the earth reawaken.  And all the while that you're taking these lovely things in, you know it won't last. The grandeur of another season will soon take its place. 

My friend, Mary, (Mar--you may as well be a guest writer here) and I were talking about seasons the other night at dinner.  Mary let me in on a little life philosophy of hers: To live everyday like the wedding is tomorrow.  It could be an actual wedding you're thinking of or figurative, but to live your life like you're on the brink.  There's joy and excitement the day before a wedding for nearly everyone involved!  The thought of living life in that way is thrilling even at its mention.  It's believing that what God is going to do next and what is coming is going to be so great that I'm giddy!  It is the joy of what He's going to do and eventually how He will be our Eternal Groom.  That's SO thrilling that the joy spills into today.  Because friends, not everything is perfect about any season.  The flowers might bring allergies or lots of mud, the snow is cold and can be dreary, the fall (is pretty close to perfect) can bring cold winds and foliage withers, while summer can be scorching and packed with activity.  There are wonderful and difficult things about each season and at times we find ourselves longing for the next one.  I find myself longing for my next season of life--whatever that looks like.  There are things about my story right now that make me look forward to what is next.

I think God conveniently made it that way after the fall.  Our perfect relationship with Him that we  were designed for was broken.  For us, that means that no stage or season, until we see Jesus face to face, will feel complete.  It's not supposed to.  We were made for a lot more than this and if we did feel complete in it, we would more easily forget about our Maker.  So we wait and look forward with giddy excitement.  Tomorrow could be the day that a new season arrives in your story!

The other half of my conversation with my friend was about contentment.  Great combination, right?  Contentment is an on-again, off-again struggle for me.  Some days I'm happy as a clam with my story and the current setting and plot.  Other days, I struggle.  I struggled living on my own again.  I was angry about feeling isolated.  Finally, one day, it was as if God said to me, "don't wish this away."  I was changed in that moment.  I'm done wishing away seasons.  They come and go quickly enough as it is and I always seem to be wanting what I don't have.  I'm done with that.  Well, I'm trying to be.  Contentment is choosing to see time spent alone as an appointment set aside by my Creator to simply enjoy my company without interruption.  These times and opportunities that I have with Him and to minister to others are unique--the richness of this season.  Even though I'm excited for what is to come, I refuse to wish that away.  It is such a sweet, sweet meantime.

Anticipation and contentment.  We need both pieces.  Life is best lived when we are, both looking forward in anticipation for what's to come, as well as refusing to wish away where we are.  Here's to joy in the journey, for stories of seasons past, for the beauty of the present, and the thrill of what's to come.

singleness: freedom to serve.

I've been surrounded by weddingness lately.

I mentioned it briefly in previous posts, but my oldest sister got married last weekend.  It was lovely...the service, the dress, the dance party...all was well.  It was just a cool and unique weekend with my family.

My friends and I were recently watching their wedding video from last year.  The pastor's message was about finding freedom in marriage.  It is freedom from having to pursue or be pursued by anyone but your spouse.  Thinking on the complexity of relationships in the life of a single 20something, I long for that type of freedom.  Yes, sir.  That sounds awesome.  Even so, the past couple of weeks have given me eyes wide open for something absolutely amazing.

It started with a conversation I had with my lovely friend, Traci, a few months ago.  She is a wonderful woman of faith in ministry who also happens to be single.  I really look up to her.  When I was struggling to find something beside work to fill my life, I asked her what she did in her free time.  Her response: serve.  She serves the community, friends, and her church in many different ways.  She introduced me to a wonderful opportunity that she has right now in this season of singleness.  Recently, I got to experience this.

I've thanked God deeply for my singleness these past two weeks.  Weird, right?  I say this for the following reason:  I have been so blessed by the freedom to serve.

With so many people around me transitioning, there are some changes for me, but mostly, I am staying still.  I am staying still with the ability to support those around me in a freedom that few in my life currently have.  That is awesome.  I mean that sincerely.  I was able to run around and do wedding things and serve my sister and parents.  I was able to support friends who are moving, mourning, celebrating upcoming weddings, and facing challenges.  I praise God that I could do that.  It's been such a blessing.

Sure, I'd be lying if I said there weren't times throughout wedding things that I thought longingly about what freedom in marriage would be like.  Normal thoughts.  Even so, I was so blessed to be a part of all of these milestone events for people that I love, that it was nowhere near the forefront of my thoughts.  Seeing how God has freed me up to love those around me through action has given me such gratitude for this single meantime of my life.

"You, my brothers and sisters, were called to be free. But do not use your freedom to indulge the sinful nature; rather, serve one another in love. The entire law is summed up in a single command: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Galatians 5:13-14

Thanks, Lord, for that freedom to serve.  Thanks for how You've served us.  Thank You for giving me eyes of how You are using this meantime in my life.

seasons: alone leads to together

Seasons. I'm a seasons girl. While growing up, I went through lots of phases. Phases of Mickey Mouse, Ninja Turtles, dinosaurs, cowgirl things, and lots of other things that live in garage boxes labeled "too cute to throw away." Seasons and phases are something I can get into. And actually, this concept is pretty biblical if you ask me.

Ecclesiastes 3:
There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under the heavens:
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,...You get the picture.

I think it's cool because most of these times or seasons cycle. Think about plants throughout the year. They die, then seeds of the dead cause them to bloom again. We are in constant cycle. We hurt and then we heal, usually just in time to be hurt and healed once again. One part of the cycle leads us into the next.

My seasons? Aloneness and togetherness.

As a single 20-something, I've grown to enjoy both of these very much. I'm recharged by quality time with others. I love to spend time with people--friends new and old. However, there's just something splendid about being on my own. These are two very important things to have in your life no matter your relationship status, but sometimes I feel strange admitting that alone is a great thing for me to be. Being a strong extrovert, I often get looks of surprise when I mention my solo trips to restaurants, movies, coffee shops, you name it. It truly is fun to be that and do that from time to time. You need both.

One of my favorite quotes from Dietrich Bonhoeffer is from Life Together:
"Let him who cannot be alone, beware of community... Let him who is not in community, beware of being alone."

Alone seasons are a time where I get to know God, who He has made me to be, and learn that He's placed a lot of strength and capability within me. It's also a time to realize my depth of brokenness, which reveals my dependence on God and community. So much growth happens when you're simply letting yourself sit in the hands of the Holy One. In the last two years, I have had tremendous personal growth where I have seen God working on me in the meantime. I attribute that growth to seasons where being alone has been more prevalent in my life. This doesn't mean I'm isolated or out of community, but I've definitely been blessed by some "Israelites in the desert"-esque experiences. God taking my hand and saying, "trust me for a season..my promise for you on the other side is great." So far, so difficult, but so worth it. Seasons of alone better equip me for seasons of together. Just like Ecclesiastes, one spurs me back into the other. The beauty is that alone often allows us to be closer to others in the long run. It's a beautiful cycle that I'm learning to embrace more and more.

If you're in an alone season, I feel ya. Hang in there...wait it out until you like it, as the video says, take advantage of what it has to offer, and realize two things:
1) the promises on the other side of being alone are great--wait for them; 2) that even when you're waiting alone, God's promise to never leave or forsake you, to be your Emmanuel, still stands.

In honor of alone seasons, here is a fantastic video. Give it a watch...and take yourself out to dinner. :-)