Most of us view God like He’s our personal drill sergeant. Now, initially you might think that sounds a bit too harsh or not quite right, but how often do you hear your friends or yourself saying things like, “God please just tell me where I should go, what is your will in this situation? I’ll follow you wherever you lead me.”

Sounds like a good christian prayer right?  I’ve heard people say things like this more times than I can count. But when you think about what is really being asked we are saying, “God just give me orders, and I will do exactly what you say.“  I.E., we want to be passive participants in our lives, (”Jesus take the wheel”  …thank you Carrie Underwood) and let God do the ordering and thinking. I can’t help but think that methodology is bit off. Or if it was the right approach, I would understand why so many people think religion is a crutch.

But what if God is more like what the bible depicts, what if he is a Father? What if it played out a bit more like this, “Hey Dad, I thinking about going to college to majoring in film and trying to make it in the movie industry. What are your thoughts? Do you think that’s my strength, or should I try something else?‘”

How many of us got to college and called our dads and asked, “Hey dad, should I go to class today? I just want to do what you think I should, so please tell me what to do today.“

Could it be that if God is more like a father, that it makes sense that he gives us choices? So instead of simply saying, “You will go to this college, take these courses, major in this study and become this professional…” I’m beginning to believe that I’m a bit more involved. Maybe God has given us all kinds of strengths and as long as we say within those, we’re in his will.

So, maybe for someone that means they could be a teacher, or a lawyer, or an architect because all of those professions use part of that person’s strengths. And maybe God didn’t whisper in that person’s ear which one to choose.

The notion that I’m an active, responsible participant in my life turns that “lead me I will follow” methodology on it’s head.  Suddenly life is much more exciting, and yes most definitely a whole new level of scary. Making choices, telling God what I want, going after dreams and not expecting God to miraculously land it on my door with a heavenly bow…that’s a life that is bigger, riskier, and more adventurous than God simply bumper bowling me through the choices. And frankly it sounds more like a life crafted by a God I want to spend time with.

As some of you know, I’m coming up on the midst of some really cool life changes. I have options, which are really fun and make me feel like I’m wearing my big-girl pants. But they’re very different. I almost feel like it’s a Choose Your Own Adventure novel. Or, like I told my own dad, “Dad, I feel like God has taken me down the toy aisle and said, ‘You can have roller skates, barbie dolls or a bike, it’s your choice.”

Uhh. Those are all really killer toys. And they are all very different. And all of them end well. Unless, I ask for the barbies and in the midst of playing wedding with Ken, her head pops off…that could be not so fun.

Part of me really hates that God doesn’t lean down and tell me, “Go with the bike. You can go off really cool jumps with it, and it’s the most fun toy out there.” Instead He is standing back and letting me choose. And if I’m being honest, there’s a part in my stomach that feels like I’m about to throw up. This is an instance where I wish Carrie was right, and I could simply say, “Jesus take the wheel!” But I know it doesn’t work like that.

So what do I do? What do we do when we’re faced with big choices, and there is no God to write the answers on the wall? I’m not quite sure, but if you do, I’d like it if you could tell me please.

Even still, I think most cool Christians go through a phase where they really love hymns. And I have hesitated writing on it because I think the classic branding of a “Hipster Christian” is if you are wearing dark skinny jeans and telling your friends that God really “touched me to press into him…because you know, I want my soul to pant-eth after him like the deer…”

I don’t wear skinny jeans, and I match my clothes too much to be considered a hipster, so I’ve avoided the topic. But I can’t deny it anymore. I’m sorry if this means you have to re-categorize me in you mind from “real edgy writer” to quintessential  hipster Christians who find deep meaning and beauty in hymns…but I’m joining their team. I’ve had hymns running through my mind for literally 3 weeks on end. Morning, noon and night. I play them on YouTube when I think that no one is watching. Maybe I feel better indulging myself when I think that no one knows that I rock out to music that’s written in New King James-ian speak.

It is Well With My Soul

Ok, as long as we are in confession time, I have to tell you…I’ve loved this song for a long time. A really really long time. You see, a few years ago I’d heard the story with this song. Apparently the man who wrote the song had his entire family tragically killed in a boating accident or something to that effect (it was much more complicated, but did involve a boat and death). One minute he was a happy man, 3 hours later his wife, kids, everything…gone.

In response to the dark night that ensued he wrote these lyrics:

When peace like a river attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll,
Whatever my lot, thou hadst taught me to say,
It is well….It is well….With my Soul

I can tell you right now, that story added some perspective to those words.  But even within the amazing meaning of surrender in the face of adversity, there is another part that has come to be meaningful.

“Thou hadst taught me to say”

Yep. Taught. Meaning that being at peace with your circumstances in life is something to be learned. Continuing to trust God when you are disappointed is something we don’t automatically do. Being in the midst of a dark night and knowing that it is well with your soul is something that comes over years, experiences, heartbreaks and gray hairs.

It doesn’t come right away. It isn’t easy. Or natural.

To me that puts a pictures in my head of God being some sweet and understanding person. Someone who delights in watching us learn and grow, even though its hard and we get it wrong. That he jumps up and down and yells with excitement the same way you would if your kid was learning to ride a two wheeler for the first time. That he smiles and is proud when we say through teary eyes, “Ok God, I’m going to try to be well in my soul. I don’t feel it, but I’m going to give it a shot.”

I suppose it just makes me feel less guilty for thinking that things being “well with my soul” isn’t always a reality. Sometimes it’s not. And yes over time it has gotten easier, but it has been something I guess I’ve learned to do. And I think it makes me feel better that when things go really really wrong, that I actually get angry and mourn. I’m not like this plastic person that can have my life or dreams dashed and then turn and say at bible study, “Praise be to Jesus, He’s in control. He knows what He’s doing and I just don’t understand because His ways are higher than mine.” To me, saying that always had a feeling of synthetic mindlessness that I couldn’t stomach.

So I really like this hymn. It makes me feel human. It makes me feel good about God. I listen to it when no one is watching. Don’t tell anyone, but I have 3 or 4 different versions of it on my ipod. And maybe that makes me a hipster. Someone who loves organic coffee, quirky breakfast nooks, guys who wear plaid shirts, Toms Shoes, and underground indie music.

Now that I’ve given you my confession, what hymns do you listen to behind closed doors? You can comment anonymously if you want to, I know you don’t want to ruin your cool.

Knowing this I have wanted to do a follow up post, but for a long time I didn’t have anything new or profound to say about it. Last week however I read this really interesting article in Christianity Today by Mark Regnerus (which was sort of a big deal because normally I find Christianity Today WAY too conservative for my tastes). His article was called A Case for Early Marriage, and you can read the full piece here.

Regnerus takes the whole conversation of single Christian sexuality and adds an interesting twist, refocusing the conversation into something different than mere sex.  He points out that as a Christian culture, we are highly focused (and maybe over focused) on physical conservatism before marriage, but we are missing the larger issue. Instead of being focused on how to be able to wait longer and longer to have appropriate sex within marriage, he argues that we need to see the value of, and support young Christians entering into marriage. He illuminates the shift in culture away from marriage and commitment, happening both inside and outside of the Church.Yet at the same time, we haven’t allowed for any shifts in our thoughts surrounding sexuality. We have been left with an entire generation of Christians who are trying all of the virginity commitment gimmicks they can muster, while needing trying to abstain for a continually elongating period before marriage. And in the midst we are wondering why the Church’s 80% sexuality rate isn’t that much behind the world’s 90% rate.

In a single statement, Regnerus says that we don’t need to learn how to be more pure, we need to learn how to get married.

To follow up this statement,  it should be explained that if marriage is God’s display to the world of how Christ loves the Church, then we should be focusing on how to create supported and strong marriages between young Christians…not how to keep your hands to yourself until you are nearly 30.

“I am suggesting that when people wait until mid to late 20s to marry, is IS unreasonable to expect them to refrain from sex. It battles our Creator’s reproductive design. The data don’t lie.”

Right here let me clarify that Regnerus does indicate that young marriagedoesn’t mean that we should be telling high schoolers to think about wedding rings. He is focusing on the 22-24 year old crowd. Which, yes does seem a bit young to us, but even 35 years ago, that was the average age to think about marriage.  Regnerus clarifies our struggles with sexuality and marriage with the following statement:

“…yet in surveying the scene, many Christians perceive a SEXUAL crisis, not a MARITAL one. We buy, read and pass along books about battling our sexual urges, when in fact we are battling them far longer than we were meant to.”

Can I get an amen from all the single 20-something Christians out there? I have to say, it was a bit vindicating to have someone else see the problem here. We aren’t sinful for touching each other…we’ve just lost of the focus of commitment.

To be clear here, the advice is not that we all go out and touch each other because we are in our mid 20s and single. Let’s not throw the baby out with the bath water. Instead, the focus of the argument and solution to the sexual “crisis” is on the idea of having the Church support and build healthy marriages between young people. He does argue that we should try to wait for sex. But we should not be putting off marriage.

“Table For One”

Quoting some statistics about marriage, Regnerus points out that we have 65% more single households than we did in the past 35 years. Also, it surprised me to read that less than half of all households in America are married couples. It doesn’t shock me or any of my single women friends to read that we have 120% more single male homes than we did 35 years ago. Women, the reality is that it IS harder to get married these days.

Why is it that we are waiting? Why is it that most of my friends that got married this past “wedding season” were closer to 30 than to 20? Because we’ve changed the way we think about marriage.  We think that we need to have it all figured out before we get married; that it’s not ok to be in process and want to be married. That we have to be fully formed, worked through our demons,  and know who we are.

I know that I have struggled with this one a lot. I have even written about it. It seems that we need to have a good job, know who we are, have our identity and issues worked out, make good money, and worked through and professional crisis before we are ready to be promoted to the “major leagues of dating”…the kind that might have a ring involved. Before that, we were just dating for company while we had fun, traveled, and went to school.

What I really found hysterical was that Regnerus points out that the Church as lost its ability to SHAME men that cannot commit. HA! Can you imagine that!?

3 to 2 Ratio

Regnerus also has another home hitting point that helped nail a suspicion from nearly all of my Christian girlfriends. We often sit around dinner tables asking each other, “What happened to all of the Good Christian MEN?” Well, statistically speaking, we’re working on a 3 to 2 ratio – 2 men to every 3 Christian women. Meaning, that 1/3 of all Christian women out there WON’T have a good Christian man waiting to find them. So, as we sit around and tell our girlfriends who have fallen for the really great non-Christian guy that she is going to “unequally yoked,” we should also know that this advice is hard to follow when it is statistically impossible. I suppose that throws a wrench in the argument that, “God has the perfect man for you honey. You just need to wait until he brings him to you.”

Now Regnerus doesn’t conclude on what this 1/3 of women should do. And to be honest, I don’t have any good thoughts either. I wouldn’t want to commit to a person who had no faith, no knowledge of God, and couldn’t understand the spiritual parts of my heart. But it was amazing to see the numbers there in black and white - women we are dateless because the men are literally NOT THERE.

Ideology vs. Reality

I love that Regnerus makes this clarification: We think that we need to be fully formed to be ready for marriage, but we forget that marriage is a formative institution. It makes you mature. It makes you practice good communication. It creates responsibility.

Now, Regnerus does go through a series of arguments of why people wait to get married. And they are all of the reasons we have told ourselves and our friends: economic, maturity, independence, making the right choice, chemistry, etc. And he does outline good points for each one. But the overwhelming point that I took from his arguments is that as a Christian community we view marriages entirely too independently. When a young couple chooses to get married, we think, “Well, they’ve made their bed, now they have to lie in it.” And that can mean financial struggles, communication or intimacy struggles.

But here’s is a different way to think about it: what if as a Church, we came along side of marriages and supported those people? What if just because you were a young married couple didn’t mean that you were doing it all on your own? What if parents were still willing to financially support those couples in times of economic struggle? What if mentors and older Christian couples were to come along side seriously dating couples and help them to make a founded decision based upon common values and wise group decisions? What if we were in support of young married couples as they mature into their roles of husband and wife? What if we took on the responsibilities together, as one body? Doesn’t that seem much less risky than simply telling a 21 year old college kid that he should marry his girlfriend so they can finally have sex?

After all, God’s kingdom is all about loving on one another, supporting each other, and creating dependence. God’s kingdom is about growing each other, and being in this together. If marriage is suppose to mirror God’s love for us, then we really have it wrong to think that we need to get your life together, wait until you have the maturity, finances, and perfection to be able to enter into commitment. “Come just as you are?“ That may apply to Jesus, but getting a husband seems a bit more tricky.

Good On Paper – But Really?

Ok here’s the catch, even as I am sitting here telling you all  about how getting married is a great thing…I am still questioning if I really believe it for myself. I am 25. I am glad I’m single. I have lived overseas. I have gone to counseling. I have faced my past. I’m hashing out my professional passions and my future. I almost got married at 23. I can tell you that I’m REALLY happy I didn’t. So, on the one hand, while I champion all of Regnerus’ ideas, part of me says “Yep they’re great…for someone else. I’m glad I’m waiting.” So, I get it, I am in your boat. I’m not telling all of the Christian women out there to drop of of school and hang up their ambitions to be barefoot and make bread for their husbands. In fact, the thought of that just made me throw up in my mouth a little bit.

But what I do think is interesting is this: what if marriage is less being perfectly ready and finding the perfect man? What if it is more pragmatic than that? What if it is simply finding our core values, and then using a team of people who love us and know us to help us make a good choice for a spouse.  And then simply saying yes to that commitment every single day. Part of me believes that this has to be more realistic.

And, I do love how the sexuality struggle has been validated through this article. It IS ridiculous to expect us to be 30 and single and not want to intimately connect with our partners. I do still think we should strive for puritan ideals, but in a way it seems that Regnerus has given us a more holistic view of what is going on.

So, with all of that said, know that I stand in the center ground on this issue too. I am still concerned with my friend who just got engaged at 21. I worry they won’t be happy.  I do like the idea of starting to have kids around 30. But I also have seen my share of problems with approaching sexuality and marriage the way we have been.

I’m interested in seeing how this resonates with my readers. In talking about this article this week, it seems that it has hit different people in very different ways. Some were angry, some felt the thoughts were too old fashioned, or some women were screaming “hallelujah!”at the idea of us needing more men to commit.

But as you think on your own opinion, I will close with a quote from Regnerus that I believe sums his whole argument very well:

“While, yes, sex matters…marriage matters more.”

I’m not completely sure how this video hits me. My first instinct is to be sad. I’m not sure if its just because Atheist Camp doesn’t have the same ring as “Vacation Bible School” where kids hear felt-board stories about a huge God who loves them and wants to be buddies. In comparison, having a camp where children learn that there is no God seems…well, bleak.

I do think it’s interesting that the camp does focus on philosophy, morals, and making good founded decisions, apart from God. I find it interesting to derive morality and standards of being a “good person” aside from God. Granted it’s not the first time that I’ve heard it, it just hit me funny this time. I do believe that people that don’t believe in God can be great thinkers, philosophers and people. And I do like the idea of atheist kids not getting left out of the summer camp experience.

But, I can’t shake a feeling of sadness. Maybe that’s not PC. Maybe that makes me a close minded person to be sad for these kids. What do you think? Atheist Camp? How does that sit with you?

And while I pumped out all of my energy from the day, a memory resounded through my mind. A few years ago I was in the midst of another dark night lit by only the moon. I remember this moment very vividly – not only for the emotional significance, but for the astonishingly sharp visual that seemed to pair with it. It was the middle of the night when I was en route to New Zealand. In leaving LA, I was leaving behind a host of problems, my life was essentially in wreckage, and I was holding it all together with McGiver-style bubble gum and tape. Little did I know that when I landed in New Zealand I would promptly be deconstructed and begin the process of slowly piecing my life back  together. That moment on the plane was probably one of the darkest, more anxiety ridden nights of my life.

As I flew through the dark night, thousands of feet in the air, the darkness was piercing black. But the moon was soft white, illuminating the ocean as a blanket of sparking diamonds. The night was so clear that even from my height, I could make out the tiniest islands down there in the in the massive blue, and I could see the white caps of waves washing over beaches. It was honestly one of the most beautiful sites I have seen in my life. I remember specifically with tears in my eyes I whispered under my breath, “God I don’t know where you are, and I am scared sh*tless, but here I am.”

Running along the bay tonight, it was the first time I had recalled this memory in years. And yet, tonight was a night much like the one I had on Air New Zealand almost 3 years ago. The night was black. Purple. Blue. The bay was black, and yet the moon shone it’s warm light down on the water, making little diamonds sparkle down the current. And all of the homes and cars on the other side of the bay all shone like little cafe lights in a far off place.

I had to smile. I can’t help but feel like in life we always come full circle. Here I am again, lost and a mess. This time not in my identity, but rather in my career, passion and profession. I’ve just decided to pursue freelance writing, and I can’t lie; I feel like I have given up safety to chase ghosts. Here I am standing in the midst of the moon light whispering, “God I don’t know where you are, and I am scared sh*tless, but here I am.”

But here is the cool thing: I’m not scared the way I was before. The night can be a very terrifying place if you let it be. The first time in my walk through the dark night, I remember being gut wrentchingly anxious, scared, unsure and looking at all of the long shadows and unknown sounds like they were going to over take me. This time, I feel like I have have come to love the dark night. The air is cooler. The colors are astounding. the lights seem to sparkle in a way that captures my heart. And you know, moon shadows are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. The idea that we can play with our shadows in the darkness of night is a notion beyond my own mind.

This time around I realize I have learned to relax in the darkness, to enjoy the night. I know last time I saw this vision, it marked the beginning of the most adventurous, beautiful, terrible, growing, stretching, rewarding journey I had been on in my life. This time I have slowed the anxiety and I can see the signs for what they are. And I can only hope that I am standing on the brink of something half as great as the story I embarked on en route to New Zealand.

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.

Flash forward to a few days later where I was flushing out the wire frame of my talk. I seriously looked psychotic. I think my roommate walked in one day to find my computer on, music blaring, books open, papers everywhere, notes scratched all over the place, and me – desperately scribbling on our sliding glass doors with dry erase marker. I’ve learned through this experience that I am a visual person, and I need to be able to see the entire thing…so I quickly moved from computer to small whiteboard, to entire sliding glass doors. Clearly it was like a scene from A Beautiful Mind.

It was only after several hours of this creative flow and filling my entire windows that I had to step back and take a breath. Seeing the writing fill both doors, I just stood there and tears filled my eyes. It hit me that this was not a story and a small talk for one weekend. This was something that God had been writing for years and years and years. Seeing it all there together, the joys, the struggles, the pain,  the anger, the hope…it all made so much sense. God was big. God was really big. And God was in charge.  God had been in charge. And had known of this moment for so much time. And I had blindly struggled through pissed and frustrated, and stumbled into this awe of realization that my story was not random. It had been there the whole time.

Where the Rubber Meets the Road

Getting to camp I was excited. I knew I was equip with a talk that was going to grand slam these kids. I knew because the content that had filled my sliders was well beyond my own brain’s capacity. But here is the funny thing – as I began the talks, it was incredibly harder than I thought it was going to be.  The second talk that I did was on anger and abandonment. I told the kids about parts of my story that contained pain, injustice, and the moments where I had seriously questioned God’s deity and character.

Walking out of that talk, I felt like my words had left my mouth and hit the ground like an anvil. No one had said a word to me upon finishing. I walked right out the back door and into the dark 113 degree night. Tears pressed my eyes.

“What the hell God? You brought me all the way out here to be hot and uncomfortable and vulnerable in front of all these kids – and they stare at me like I’m in idiot. Are you kidding me? Why did you bring me here? To hear the sound of my own voice? Does this even matter?”

Let me flash forward several days. Stories began pouring out about the kids at the camp. Stories of hurt, physical abuse, sexual abuse, drug abuse,  abandonment, anger, and pain. And maybe not all the kids were running up to me to tell me what was going on in their hearts and minds, but their leaders began giving me an idea of where they were at. And as story after story after story of how these kids were just like I had been.  They are  experiencing things that I experienced when I was there age, and grappling with the very same ideas that I was smashing with each talk.

There was no epic conclusion. I didn’t have ever single kid come up at the last alter call and proclaim that they loved my friend “Jesus the Hippie” and wanted to follow God everywhere. But the sound of their stories resounded in my heart. LOUD.  Their stories pounded impact into my mind because they showed me the grandiose nature of God. A few of the leaders told me that they were blown away at the weekend. I agreed with them. I was blown away too. And not at my speaking ability. I was blown away at God’s ability to catch me up in a story that is bigger than myself.

In light of all of this I can just say this, “Thank you God, for letting me play in your symphony even though all I saw was random notes.”

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.”

I did open the speech with a disclaimer that it was a Christian book, and if you happened to not be interested or disagreed, that was just fine. And then I went ahead and told the group about Miller’s brilliance. I finished. They clapped. I sat down.

Then something interesting happened. One by one, as people went to the front and spoke about books that changed their lives, I noticed that out of the 10 people in the room, 8 of them had brought books that specifically dealt with spiritual substance. I mean, not all of them were what you would call “Christian” books, but they were books like The Shack, The Alchemist and Angles and Demons. Regardless of the specific teachings within the books, it hit me: people crave spirituality.

I suppose it surprised me because most of my Christian life, I’ve felt like I’ve needed to apologize to people. To be sorry that Christians as a whole are broken people, that the church is obnoxious and annoying, that most Christians are people that I myself wouldn’t want to hang out with, that God had rules that they didn’t like, and that the rules offended people. In fact, I think I have gone almost to a hypersensitive place thinking that most people don’t want anything to do with God or spirituality.

I was more than surprised to notice that people may not love Evangelical Christianity as it plays out in our world, but that doesn’t change the fact that people are hungry. I suppose it also made me think that maybe humanity’s souls are still awake to the needs of spirituality, even if their tastes don’t include a modern church.

I’m not suggesting that we all run out and hit people over the head with our bibles and picket at street corners. I don’t think we need to give people any more reasons to not like Christians. I mean, I’m already standing in front of groups, and telling them that their souls are damaged, so I don’t think Christian PR needs any more help.  I suppose I just mention it to remind us that the world does crave spirituality and like  Miller says: The world wants something outside of itself  to give it a name, and tell it who it is.  Whether or not my networking group likes my friend Jesus or not I think it helps to know that we are all craving after the same thing.

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.

Puppy Love.

The first box that my mom left on my porch was a complete time capsule from my first Puppy Love. I had dated a very sweet boy my sophomore year of high school. We met in Language Arts class. He asked me to the Homecoming dance in a poem that he’d put on my desk (which I found in the box). We went to the dance. We had an amazing time. We started dating. We fell in love. It was glorious. He was sweet, and wrote me notes and poems. He would write me pages and pages about how he adored me, and wanted us to be together forever. We dated for almost 9 months, which is just about an eternity at 16 years old. At the end of the school year, I went on a trip to Hawaii with my school’s science program. It felt like the longest trip in the entire world. The distance started to get between us. When I got home, he’d made more friends and begun branching out. We started to grow apart. Painfully, it was time. We decided to go our separate ways. I was crushed. I had my first experience of realizing why they say you’re falling in love. Because when you’re done falling, you smack the ground – HARD.

I was inconsolable. The first day my dad went around my room and collected all of the remnants that were associated with my heart-throb. He placed them one by one in a box: pictures, letters, photos, frames, stuffed animals, anything that would make me think of this boy.  He then put the box in the attic. There it rested for almost TEN years. Until yesterday, when my mom delivered it oh-so-timely to my front door.

I have to admit, as I have long since healed and moved on, it was really cute to dig through the box of treasures. There were letters explaining things I had completely forgotten about, pictures of us as little pip-squeek babies, and pressed flowers. I couldn’t stop smiling. And not because I’m in any way connected or thinking about him. Come on, it’s been ten years. And also I’m pretty sure he’s engaged – or at least that’s what I’ve gathered through Facebook stalking (I mean, if we’re friends on FB it doesn’t really count as stalking…right!?).

I realized that this relationship was a perfect dipiction of Puppy Love because it was entirely evident of how innocent we were; untainted and unjaded. It was simple. He was nuts about me and told me all the time. He just wanted to stay with me for a 16-year-old version of forever. I was nuts about him too. And that was all there was. We had cute kisses, innocent hearts, and were totally unaware of the heartache that would follow in the wake of young love.

If I’m aloud to give a shameless plug to HNB, my current boyfriend-extrodinaire, digging through that box made me think about him quite a bit. Even though I’m 25 and he’s almost 29, somehow we have that same innocent feel. HNB is really simple. He just likes me. I just like him back. It’s easy and fun. And I’m not going to get too mushy on the internet, but it felt good to know even after all of the DBs that are out there, and crap that I’ve sifted through, innocent love is still real and a possibility – like the kind I had at 16.

I think if I was to go back to Jenni the 16 year old, I would tell her to keep dating guys like Puppy Love. Because in between Puppy Love and HNB, there were a couple of rough relationships. Although things turned out ok, I could have saved myself a lot of heartache if I would have taken good notes from Puppy Love, and tried to stick with sweet innocent love like the kind I had at 16.

Perfection and Anorexia.

The other box that my mom left at my house was a filing box that I started keeping when I was a little girl. I think I’ve always been somewhat neurotic, because I started filing at the age of 9 or so. My dad bought me the box, and each year I could collect pieces of artwork, Language Arts writing pieces, or pictures of friends that were important that year. I kept filing all the way through college. So, needless to say that when I found this box on my porch, it was more than a trip down memory lane, it was a complete history of Jenni from a little baby scooting on the carpet, all the way through sorority pictures in college.

The one thing that stood out to me about who I was back them was simply a feeling of being exhausted all the time. That and that I was totally skinny.

See, I was musical and athletic. I was on the band and the swim team. I was taking tons of classes. I got all As. I wanted to be popular, but wasn’t really. But I tried really hard to have lots of friends, and keep the peace with all of my friends (which can be hard when you’re actually a loud mouth dramatic 16 year old). And through all of that, I didn’t really believe that eating was mandatory. So, at the tender age of 17, I barely tipped the scales at 95 lbs. Which, as shown in my filed photos, I looked like I was 13. (NOTE HERE- High school girls: being a 13-year-old-looking pile of bones = SO not cute. Don’t buy the hype. Eat dinner).

Scrolling through the pictures, and through the work I did, I couldn’t help but feel the exhaustion coming back to me. It was like I spent my entire years through high school striving. I’m not sure if that was just the pressures of school, or of my friends, or of my home life, but I know I’m much more relaxed now. Not everything is so black and white. I enjoy life a lot more. I eat dinner a lot more.

I wish I could have gone back and told the high school me that it was ok to be less than everything. To relax. To have fun. I would tell 16-year-old-Jenni to quit trying so hard, because she’d wake up at 25 and still be a hot mess. I’d tell her to get over the hype of being perfect and skinny and just start getting used to choas and not looking like a model.  I’d tell her to quit trying to be so good. Not to say that being good doesn’t get you anywhere – it’s just that I know now that it’s  not a guarantee. Crappy things will still happen, and you still have to live in and grow.

My advice to 16 year old Jenni? Grow hard. Laugh a lot more than you do. Forget about trying to be everything. And I know this sounds cliche, but go after what you love. Who cares if you don’t know what that is right now. But just take a deep breath and let go. The pressure of being perfect isn’t as important as you think.

Message to the kids?

I don’t know if the 16 year old Jenni would have had the mind to understand all of that. I don’t know if just telling a kid, “Don’t worry, relax, life will work out” really means anything to them. Moreover, I don’t know if my memory lane road trip is going to mean anything to these high school kids next weekend. I don’t know if my youth of Brittney Spears and boy band hits even connects to high schoolers who grew up on iPhones and Facebook. I don’t know if they are going to look at me and think that I am outdated and lame. That my stories are unbiblical. That I can’t quote enough scripture or have enough reliability to the bible to be a real speaker.

Although it was good to see how I have grown away from 16 year old Jenni, it would be nice if I had at least a topic or direction for this camp next week. If you have any brilliant ideas, feel free to help a sister out.

A couple of years back, there was an email circling around called “The Quarter Life Crisis.” I recently found it while cleaning out my inbox and deleting old mail (seriously, who does that? …apparently I do…). This particular email outlined a few thoughts that some of us in or mid-twenties might be experiencing:

1) You start feeling insecure and wonder where you will be in a year, but
then get scared because you barely know where you are now.

2)You look at your job…and it’s not even close to what you thought you
would be doing, or maybe you are looking for a job and realizing that
you are going to have to start at the bottom and that scares you.

3) One minute, you are insecure and the next, secure.
You laugh and cry with the greatest force of your life.
You feel alone and scared and confused.

4)You worry about loans, money, the future and making a life for
yourself… and while winning the race would be great, right now you’d
just like to be a contender!

5)You get your heart broken and wonder how someone you loved could do
such damage to you. Or you lay in bed and wonder why you can’t meet anyone decent enough that you want to get to know better.

These are just a few off the list, but I found myself laughing along as I read down the page. The end of the email was super cheesy, with some quaint sparkling message saying, “Know that you aren’t alone, and be nice to others that are going through this too, because we’re all in the same boat – Now pass this along to 10 friends in 5 minutes or else a zombie is going to munch your dome while you’re sleeping,” or something stupid about bad luck and being dateless and never winning the lottery. Needless to say, I forwarded the email IMMEDIATELY. I  mean, according to this email, I’m already in crisis, so I wasn’t taking any chances on brain slurping zombies. 

But as I was entering in my friend’s emails, I started to wonder…..quarter life crisis?  Meaning that this is supposed to happen for just a portion of my life?? I’m pretty sure I’ve been feeling this way for way longer than just this year. Then it hit me:

I’m not in a quarter life crisis…I’m just flat out in crisis.

No, I simply cannot blame  it on my 25th year of life – I’ve been a hot mess a lot longer than I have been 25. I’m in perpetual transition. Perpetually lost. Perpetually clueless. Perpetually in crisis.

“Awesome, I was just trying to clean out my email inbox, not confirm that I’m officially a disaster.”

Prince of Egypt.

Now, track with me here a little bit. I’m going to tell you a story, and I promise that we’ll come full circle. Just hang tight:

Moses is probably my favorite Bible Character. I’ve rented The Prince of Egypt several times, and feel like an idiot that I can’t get through the whole thing without breaking into tears. Sappy, I know. (But if you haven’t figured this out by now, lots of things make me fold into tears…I can’t help it).

I think what I love about the story of Moses, is that he seems to have a genuine life story - I find him real and relatable. Imagine this scene playing out in your life: you’re twenty something, and a prince. Life is good. You rule over people, get what you want, you think you know who you are, and have a good idea of where you are going. Then – there is a problem. He finds out that he is really a Jew. He shares blood with the people that are slaves – beaten and tormented. So, naturally this would give a person enough material to question their identity and purpose in life. Oh, and let’s not forget he ends up killing a man accidentally. Oopsie. 

Talk about a quarter life crisis! I think he takes the cake on the “Who am I, and where I am going in life?” contest.

So what does he do? Run away. Good plan Moses. He runs to the desert and finds some sheep and hangs out as a shepherd. Remember when in doubt, you should always flee greatness and conflict for something safe and reliable, right?  And what does God do? Pulls him aside and with some minor theatrics (enter burning bush), places some epic crazy-ass calling on his life. “Sure God, I’ll save an entire race from the wrath of the ancient world’s most powerful ruler. Any other requests?”

 Anyone relate? Because sometimes I think I am the only one who feels like the world is a giant place and I burn to make some sort of impact,  but  at the same time I don’t always know who I am, where I am going, or where the hell to start? Maybe that’s just me. Maybe I should go find myself a flock of sheeps.

If you want all of the details, watch the movie because there is a lot of great details in the plot – God doing all these wonders, making the Israelites flee, parting the sea, leading them through the desert…it’s great story. And the creators of The Prince of Egypt actually do a great job with the visuals.

Stoic God vs. YAWEH God

So, when I read the Old Testament, I have this idea of who God is. He’s some somber, Holy, powerful thing. Maybe he reminds you of  the President, or a Governor. Someone who totally has an impact on your life, but they don’t really know you too well, and you don’t really know them either. He’s stoic and phlegmatic. He makes rules, does miracles as He feels like it, writes on stone tablets and drowns Pharaohs. That’s the God I think of when I think of Exodus and Moses.

But, this last week I caught a whole new vision of God that I’d never thought of.  Exodus 33 is a chapter I have read a thousand times, and it’s amazing how you can read the story over and over, and still miss what is really going on.

Essentially, the background is this: God had shown up over and over again for Moses and his people. BUT, they decided that it wasn’t really enough and melted their gold to make a calf to worship. (Because sometimes God feels far away and you just need a golden idol-calf. I’m sure you’ve made this mistake before.)

At this point God is so pissed, he says to Moses, “ You are a stiff-necked people. If I were to go with you even for a moment, I might destroy you. Now take off your ornaments and I will decide what to do with you.”  Yikes. Can you imagine GOD telling you this. I might have sh*t my pants right then and there.

Apparently after some thinking time, God’s response is this (and I’m paraphrasing to get my point across):

 Fine Moses, you have done this whole thing kicking and screaming from the beginning. I’ve told you that I am always with you, but somehow that doesn’t seem to be enough. I tell you I’m never going to leave you and that I will prepare a way for you, but wait – you need a golden calf just to make sure. Thanks a lot. So, I’ll tell you what I am going to do. I’m going to fix the whole thing for you – I’m going to make your journey perfect. You’ll get your way – milk and honey, and your enemies will all be crushed. But the catch is this: I’m not going with you.

I’d never realized that God feels. He isn’t some stoic pillar in the sky – he’s like a lover. Ok, I even feel weird writing that, but I think it’s true. He and Moses were close beyond words. They were face to face all the time, the bible says he talked to Moses like a friend. And can you imagine, here it is in Exodus, Moses and God having an all out screaming match?

 A Solution to the Crisis?

God is hurt. Moses is scared. His responses to God is this: “DON’T LEAVE ME GOD.”

This is the part that kicked me in the teeth. I realized that (when I’m really honest) I don’t know if that would be my response. I mean, of course, my knee jerk reaction to to say, “Of course I want to be in the presence of God always.”

But then, if I think about it, I want to know more details about the contract. The honest part of my heart perks up and says, “You mean the crisis can be over? And what do you mean by ‘prepare a way for you’? Are you really saying that I can have the perfect life, and everything that I’ve dreamed up – job, career, husband, children, travels, financials…and the only catch is that you aren’t coming?”

I feel bad saying that I might entertain the idea…but I might entertain the idea. I know as a real Christian who apparently loves Jesus you aren’t supposed to – but I might have.

Would the thought of going along alone be enough to make me stop in my tracks? I know it was for Moses. He had a full blown freak out. Screaming, “Don’t leave God, how do I do this without you!?”

I know that in theory God loves us, but this time when I read the passage between Moses and God, it played out in my mind was like dramatic movie – like the ending of The Notebook. Two people that were so crazy in love with being together, that they would go to the ends of the earth and endure all pains to have it. I never thought of God as being so wily. I always imagined him much more controlling and pragmatic.

Awe.

I guess all I have in light of this is awe. After recklessly pursuing God for years, I still manage to discover more things about who He is – how he is different than I thought. When he says, “I WILL NEVER LEAVE YOU,” he is talking to me. And yes, when he says “I am the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Moses…” those stories aren’t feltboard memories devoid of passion. It means that they are the template to draw from – that they give us clues to how He feels about us.

And, as uncouth as it might be, the only words I have for that is, “DAMN.”

I suppose this truth makes my email-diagnosed crisis ok. It means that if I never get there – if I never escape the lost feelings I battle, that God is with me. That he loves me and we hang out. Maybe one day we’ll laugh together about how lost I felt. Or maybe that I should start worrying less about where I am going, and how quickly God is supposed to get me there and just start enjoying my life for what it is. After all, we only get one shot at this thing, so we might as well sit back and simply let the crisis enfold us.

Let me start this review by saying that I recommended this book to just about every Christian woman I have met this week. Yep, it’s fair to say that this is one of one of those books. You know, the book that you’ve barely finished Chapter 3 and you are already raving to your friends about, and by the time you finish it (which is most likely only 2 days after you bought it), you’ve managed to work it into every conversation – claiming that the book will change their life – regardless of their current circumstances.

Well, without sounding over zealous, I will venture to say with confidence that this book will change your life. I’ve already mentally gone down to the Christian book store and bought all of their copies for nearly every Christian woman friend that I see on a regular basis.

You see, Isaacs is a comedian.  She is sassy, and punchy, and brazen. And after waking up one day and realizing that she was single and 40, and had been through the crap-hole of life…she was PISSED. She had followed God, loved Him and His rules, and yet she was still jipped out her dreams or desires. She was 40, unmarried, career-less, a recovering alcoholic, and questioning if she even wanted to press on. She was angry because she didn’t understand why a loving God could make her life so dreadful, and if he was really “good” why did it constantly feel like she could never catch a break? Sound familiar? Oh right…maybe that’s just my life.

Isaacs did what any naturally sassy and brazen comedian would do. She reasoned that if she was “the Bride of Christ,” then God was being a dead beat husband – and she took God to marriage counseling. (I know what you are thinking: “Why hadn’t I thought of that yet!?”)

I found Isaacs’ memoir through the dark places of her life honest and …well hysterical. As she described some of the darker and more heart wrenching years of her life, her story resonated with me on many levels. She was passionate about God, yet couldn’t stand some of the “Churchy-ness” of Church. She seemed to grip the idea that there are real, raw, genuine and cool people in the world, and hated that the cross necklace and prarie dress wearers seemed to miss them.

Isaccs struggled with the same issues that I talk about on my blog all the time: trying to find her purpose in life, Christian men, Non Christian men, dating, not dating, career choices, alcoholism, sexuality, Church culture, loving Jesus and faith. And throughout her struggle, she was always refreshingly honest with God.  Sometime she would yell, she would get sarcastic, and candid about the reality that she felt jipped. Heck, she even threatened to divorce Him! (And man, you thought I had gall!)

In the end, despite punchy humor and sassy remarks, Isaacs manages to squarely nail some of the desperate realities of letting God barbeque her life. She not only answers the question of “why do bad things happen to good people,” but manages to encourage the reader to press into their own darkness in their lives. She shows the face of God for who He really is, darkness and all. Isaacs does not shy away from these harder issues of faith – but instead, through her unflinching work, she proves that God was really much much bigger and greater than she ever gave Him credit for. And not in some sappy Christian Book store sort of way. Promise, she doesn’t quote verses at you – yet by the end you really get a sense of passion for God that you would never find through the “3 Points and a Poem” books that fill the shelves at Sonshine Christian Stores.

In conclusion, walk away from your computer screen, get into your car, and drive to the nearest store where you can find this book. Or better yet, click the link below and order it. And then go sit patiently by your front door and wait for the delivery guy to come.