I have had lots of friends asking, “So how did the talks go?” since I have been back from speaking at Summer Camp this weekend. I have two words to describe this weekend:

1) Indescribable.

2) Hades.

Let me start with point two:

Yes, this is the one of the coolest days. The heat of the day is 127…and it’s 113 at night. Basically, you lay on top of your sleeping bag and try not to be miserably drowning in your own sweat until sleep over takes you.

Ok, onto the first point, which is obviously the better of the two.

Have you ever had a moment when you realize that you just stumbled upon something bigger than yourself? Talking to these kids this weekend was an experience that could be described as just a glimpse of the massive story that God is writing. It was for all intensive purposes…chilling.

I was sitting in church the weekend before when I got the inspiration for what I wanted to talk on. I had been praying for days, “God what do you want to tell these kids? Because I really don’t have much to say and it would be really embarrassing to just stand up there for four days.” Well, inspiration came like a flood.  Sitting there in the midst of a service, my mind began spinning, and I started asking complete strangers for a pen before I drowned in my own thoughts. I scribbled on bulletins – my own and other people’s as I desperately grabbed whatever I could get my hands on. Read the rest of this entry »

Yesterday I was attending one of my networking groups that focuses on public speaking.  No one signed up to give a speech that day, so I sent an email out to the group indicating that we were each going to do “Mini Speeches.” The assignment to the group was to bring in their favorite book and we would take 3-5 minutes to speak about why you liked it, what touched you, and maybe read a small excerpt out of the book. The point of the exercise would be preparing content and delivering the speech in a clear concise way.

When I started looking through my books, I knew right away what I wanted to talk on. Don Miller happens to be my favorite author and celebrity crush. I have all of his books and love his unorthodox version of pursuing Jesus with a tender and open mind.  One of my favorite of Don’s books is Searching For God Knows What.  One of my favorite chapters in this book is called “Children on Chernobyl.” This particular chapter was really impacting because it describes a picture Miller keeps on his desk of a small five year old boy whose body was grossly mutilated by the horrors of the nuclear leak in the Soviet Union in 1986.

Miller explains it may seem drastic to compare this boy’s pain to humanity’s pain, but there are parallels that are somewhat striking. This boy’s body was the result of a terrible tragedy. And yet, our soul are terribly disfigured by tragedy. That we are all distorted by the war between God and evil, and even though we appear to be fine on the outside, our souls have really become very damaged and pained.

As I was researching what to say in my mini-speech, it hit me how spiritual this book really was. I imagined myself standing in front of my club, telling them that their souls were damaged because of an unseen spiritual war. Which is just perfect because it happens to be the fastest and easiest way to be classified as the Crazy-Christian lady who you shouldn’t be friends with. Being confused, I did what I always do when I can’t decide something: I called my mom. I loved this book, but really didn’t want to preach or offend my friends that don’t believe in God…or Miller. My mom said a quick prayer, and I decided “what the heck – I’ll give it a try. I mean the worse thing that can happen is that they’ll all think I’m nuts..and I’m pretty good at convincing people of that on my own anyway.” Read the rest of this entry »

Just today, one of my good friends asked me to speak at the Summer Camp for her youth group. My knee jerk reaction was to say yes. So, I said yes. Then the questions came. I found myself realizing that I don’t know if I have much to say to 16 year old kids. “Drink beer kids, it’s great!” or “Have sex, just wear a condom!” Right. Maybe not the best place to start. (And for the record, I wouldn’t actually say that. I know after the Sex Post, some of you think I stand outside the school yard gate and hand out condoms to Jr. Highers. Haha.)  But after telling my friend that I would speak, I legitimately sat down and freaked out thinking, “WHAT IN THE WORLD AM I GOING TO TALK ABOUT?”

Ironically, just yesterday my mom swung by my house. She and my dad have been cleaning out their house and attic, sorting through old things, and throwing away old junk. Buried deep in the attic, my mom came across a few boxes from my high school era. Being my wonderful mom, she figured that past memories could inspire some good creativity, so she promptly left the boxes on my front porch. Nothing beats coming home to find a box inscribed with your 16-year-old boyfriend’s name, and the contents of high school youth spilling down the porch stairs.

So, as I grapple with what Jesus and God want me to tell these kids, I have been doing my homework by walking through memory lane of my own high school experiences. Read the rest of this entry »

For those of you who don’t know, a few years ago I almost got engaged. Through a series of various circumstances, we didn’t quite get that far. But, in the process I did learn quite a few things on life, love and relationships. And I’m not talking about “How to Avoid a Douche Bag” kind of things (I’m a lady and wouldn’t say those kinds of things on the internet), but I’m taking about how to be a brazen unapologetic woman in the midst of all life’s twists and turns.

You see, this guy that I had been with, I thought he was brave. I thought he was adventurous. I thought he was the greatest adventurer that I had ever known. And in response, I became brave and brazen, and an adventurer. I knew to keep up with this guy, I needed to be a woman who could handle the end of the earth and more.

But then, something happened. It turns out we weren’t in the story I thought we were. No rings would be exchanged, and we wouldn’t have the ending I wanted at that time. The story as I knew it needed me to be brave in a different way than I had imagined. 

But something I learned didn’t go away after the idea of the wedding had passed. The bravery didn’t leave. The brazen woman that I had learned to become didn’t go away. I couldn’t turn off the idea that I was going to be adventurous.

This leads me to a movie. Right, I know. Most people don’t think of their life stories in turns of Disney Movies. Or, if they do, you tend to think that they are pathetic people. But I remember, back in the time when I was thinking that I was going to get married, there was a particular movie that really displayed the kind of woman that I had decided to become.

I had just gone to the midnight showing of The Pirates of the Caribbean, At World’s End.  There was a scene in the movie that literally made me tear with ambition. I remember driving home from the theatre and making an international call. I had been so inspired from the image of bravery and womanhood that I had witnessed, that I felt like an international call was in order, even though it was expensive. I had caught him late at night, but he was willing to listen to my thoughts.

The scene I am talking about is below:

The thing that got me about this clip back then was the idea that the girl wasn’t waiting to be saved. If you notice, she was just as up and prompt with her sword as he was. He would lean on her and hold her for support as he reached to fight his own battles, needing her as much as anything. And like wise, she wasn’t wearing a dress – she wasn’t waiting in distress, she wasn’t literally needing to be saved. Instead she had her own weapon. She knew how to fight. She was just as much apart of the romance and drama as he was.

The funny thing  about that particular relationship is that it didn’t work out. I learned how to be brave, and yet, I’m not married. Which, if you ask me is just fine. But I did learn something that lasted me much longer than the relationship. I learned how to be an Elizabeth Swan. To be brazen. To have my own sword. To take off the dress and engage in the fight of life. To hold my man with as much support and strength as I could muster, knowing that the fight and the adventure were my part as much as they are his.

So, in light of the pirate ways, I toast to Elizabeth Swan. Cheers to the woman who inspired me to be a real woman long before I needed to be one. A woman who showed me feminine strength even before I knew what I was going to be strong for. Women, we are needed with spines of steel -  but yet spines of steel clothed in flesh and softness.

Let us not forget that. In the stories of adventure, we have a key role to play out. Yet, we have to brave and graceful. Not simply brave alone – but brave and beautiful…even while holding a sword and wearing pirate pants.

About a year ago, my mom decided that she wanted to have a family tradition. Apparently, having traditions makes you a cultured Mexican, instead of just a regular Mexican, so she started Taco Sunday. If you’ve ever met my mom, or had the pleasure of being invited to Taco Sunday, you know that not only is she cultured (ie – the traditions), but she’s also an amazing cook. This specific Sunday was my older  brother’s birthday (Happy Birthday Fartface!), so Taco Sunday was in full birthday force.

During the course of conversation we started laughing about all of the crazy and untrue things that my parents used to tell us as kids.  They would tell us stories to make us stop crying, to try to avoid tantrums in public, or to give us “explanations” to end the ongoing barrage of questioning (“Why is the sky blue? Why do we have to stand in line? Can’t you make this go any faster? Why can’t I have candy…”). My mom laughed as she recalled all of the made up “truths” that consisted of our childhood, but as the stories piled up one at a time I started to find the whole thing not very comical anymore. Quickly, as the evidence was being laid out, a new truth was becoming very apparent.

My parents were big fat liars.

The thought echoed as it dawned on me. I was not having fun at Taco Sunday anymore – I was getting miffed! I looked at my parents and blurted out, “You guys were LIARS!” My mom looked at my dad. They both burst out laughing. “You try having four screaming brats, and tell me that you wouldn’t lie to them to get them to shut up!”

Now, I have to be honest, I am a little indignant over the little joys of childhood and life that I might have missed out on because I was such a good and gullible child. My mom still holds to the notion that they weren’t lies, they were just “good parenting”. But, considering that my opinion in the matter is not objective, I will discuss the evidence with you, and you can render the verdict on whether my parents were just “creative” or if they were indeed liars. Read the rest of this entry »