I figured after discovering that I have “Borderline Christian Values,” I might as well publish this post that I have been working on – thoughts on sex. And God. And the church. And reality. Because somehow in my mind, those things all get very messy very quickly.

Over the past 6 months or so, I have been having some very interesting conversations with friends and acquaintances – both Christians and Non-Christians alike. I am not trying to be some cliche writer that goes straight to the topic of sex because it’s controversial, but legitimately it seems to be a  grey area that begs questioning. I’m not referring to the logistics about sex (we can turn to Cosmo for those details), but more about the topic of sexuality. About what it looks like to be a woman or man and be sexual. What it looks like to be single and sexual. What it looks like to love God and be single and sexual.

The Christian Words of Wisdom: JUST DON’T.

I think I can speak for a lot of us who grew up in the Christian church when I say, sexuality can be an overwhelming subject. It can be hard to talk about, or hard to ask about. For most of my Christian life, I thought that “Good Christian Girls” loved Jesus, and didn’t really do much else than kiss their boyfriends. And then, in my teens I really struggled with guilt because I realized that there is a lot of grey area between kissing and sex, and no one prepared me to hash that part out.  The church’s only message to be about sexuality was “DON’T.” It said nothing about who I was as a sexual being, and how to think or feel about it. I assumed that I was wrong for wanting to do more than kissing, and moreover that I was probably the only Christian girl in the world that felt this way.

And now, in my mid-twenties I find it interesting that most of the people with really good attitudes toward sexual identity that I have met – did not grow up in the church. They are people who were never told “JUST DON”T,” but instead “It’s all good – you are sexual, embrace it.” And somehow, in their twenties these people seem to have a good mentality toward their sexual desires – regardless how much sex they are choosing to have or not have.

I remember the first time I had a  friend admit out loud,  ”I’m a super horny person. Most guys can’t keep up with me.” She loves God. And she wasn’t ashamed. She just said it like it was no big deal. She had come to Christ later in her twenties, and so she wasn’t indoctrinated in the “Shame Belief.” As I was hearing this, I felt like I had been hit by a train. The thought was so surreal. “Is it ok to like sex like that?” Read the rest of this entry »

I’m not writing this to whine. Let me start by saying that. I’m not looking to nag, or to complain. I think I have just been noticing things lately that make my heart heavy – and the more and more incidents I discover, the more I cannot help say to myself, “Wow, our world is full of sad things.”

Let Love Rule.

…..Right,  But How Do We Do That?

Monday night Hot Nerdy Blond and I drove up to Hollywood to grab dinner with a best friend of mine who lives out of state. A friend recommended the Saddle Ranch Chop House in Hollywood – which ended up being one of the funnest venues I have been to in a long time. Karaoke, bull riding, great food, and waiters that literally go above and beyond. Yet, I digress. What struck me about Monday night was that at one point in the evening, I looked out the window, and Sunset Blvd. was completely filled with people. Protesters, carrying signs, banging drums, chanting, full marching bands – all showing their disapproval for the recent Supreme Court ruling regarding Prop 8. Signs reading, “LET LOVE RULE” and “I DO.” or messages expressing how gay individuals had the right to get married too. Or at least be in love to. Or something to that effect (I’m sorry, I’m not the most politically correct person on this subject).

What stood out to me more than any one thing was not the subject of homosexuality, or even sexuality at all. It was just an overwhelming sense of sadness. I get it that marriage is supposed to be sacred, and that the Bible does have a lot to say on the matter. I also get it that homosexuals are people too. And they do fall deeply in love too. So…I think I love the idea of letting love rule. I love love. It’s amazing to be in love. And homosexuals shouldn’t be denied any of it. But, how do we do that?  And it made me so sad. It was like something deep inside of me had to turn and question – to say – “You know what? Something isn’t right. I don’t know what the right answer is. I don’t know how God would show love in this situation. I don’t know what the balance of “God’s Rules” vs. “God’s love and Grace” is. But I do know that this breaks my heart.”

Watching the people flooding through the street was one of the most impacting things I have seen in a long time. And as conflicted as I can feel on the matter sometimes, I couldn’t help but want to cheer them on. Cheer them into fighting against the sadness. Read the rest of this entry »

Let me bring you into a little event that happened at my church a few weeks back. I go to a fairly large church, so there are a few hundred people at each service. It was several weeks before Easter, and at the end of the message, a “Call to Action” was appropriate. Essentially, it was your typical altar call. The pastor was saying, “Now is the time, if you know that there is a call on your heart…bla bla bla.” The lights were dark. The music was pensive and emotional. They asked everyone to bow their heads and close their eyes. And then comes the part that I hate. They asked people to stand up if they wanted to receive Jesus in their hearts.

One guy, way in the back, rose to his feet. Everyone peeked through the dark to see if anyone was standing. The man was in his mid fifties or so, and from the looks of it (it was dark mind you) he seemed to be a person who normally isn’t in a church. The pastor stalled the music a bit longer. He kept talking, coaxing others to join and stand up. More music. More tension. Music. Tension.

Finally, the pastor begins talking to the one man who is standing. He asks everyone to give a round of applause for this guy who has decided to give his life to Jesus. The room erupts with cheering, shouting, whistling and applause. I almost lost my lunch. Read the rest of this entry »

In my room I have a file. And in this file I have all sorts of “Scraps of Ideas.” They are napkins, receipts, bulletins, cards, or anything flat enough to write on when inspiration hits. I like to think of this file as the “harvesting ground” for my ideas. Inspiration comes to me in the form of little seeds. Inside the file, they grow and ripen into robust thoughts, so they can be plucked from the “Idea Tree” file and written down.

Earlier this week I was looking through the file for some places to go with this next post. I pulled out a scrap of napkin that had blue ink scribbled front and back.

This napkin spelled out sudden clarity about my plans vs. Gods plans. In that moment, I clearly was understanding that:
1) I don’t always know best.
2) Sometimes uncomfortable change is good.
3) If you demand life only on your own terms, often times you will miss the point
4) God’s master plan in this whole life is to be an epic storyteller.

Read the rest of this entry »

This January I began something awful.  I began a process of a slow awakening. The more awake I am becoming, the more I hate what I am finding.  But at this point, I don’t know what’s worse – facing the ugliness or deciding to go back to sleep.

In January I was leaving a friend’s house late at night and driving down the 5 Freeway. We had just had a conversation about our friendship. It turns out that even though we’ve been friends for years, we weren’t quite as close as she’d thought we would be. She was disappointed that we hadn’t grown closer over the years, and I was grappling to explain the distance between us.

I couldn’t dodge the fact that while my friend was explaining her disappointment, I compulsively felt the need fix her feelings on the spot. I wanted to differentiate myself from our other friends that had also hurt her feelings, and show her with my actions “I’m not like them. I’m different. See, let’s still be friends.”

The ride home from her house was probably the most difficult car rides that I have had in a long time. I kept thinking, “What is it that makes me want her to like me so badly?” And suddenly there was the truth staring me in the face. Read the rest of this entry »

You might wonder how any of these items could make their way into one coherent thought, much less blog. Well readers, I promise I’m going somewhere. And I think we might have a video debut on Cherry Blossom Thoughts!…Well, no one is debuting their video, I’m debuting the use of the video feature. Riveting, I know. So hold onto your seats.

In the 1980s (84 to be exact), Cindy Lauper rocked the world with her song, Time After Time. You might remember the video of her and her multi-colored, half shaven hair agonizing over her boyfriend. Let’s be honest, I was only a year old when the video come out, so I had to youtube it.

Then, in 1998, Matchbox 20 did an awesome cover of Cindy’s song. From concert in Australia we now how this beautiful recording of a 1990s sound on our 80s hit. Personally, Matchbox 20 resonates more with me than Cindy Lauper does, but mainly because I listened to them a lot in high school. Hello, your age is showing. Read the rest of this entry »

Over the past few days, at various Christmas parties and get togethers, I have had lots of people asking me, “So Jenni, how are you doing?”

This is a very akward question to answer at this point. I’ve been without a job for about 6 weeks now, and I’ve about a month out of a relationship. Its Christmas, and everyday I am strategically planning my days to ensure that I avoid the big “D”.

Depression.

My mother keeps insisting that I call my doctor and ask to be put on medication. She says , “It will be easier to overcome these challenges and function efficiently if you feel better!” Which I can’t help at laugh at.

“Mom, I don’t need Prozac. I need my life to quit sucking.”

I really don’t have trouble with anger or frustration when I have an income and a busy schedule…its kinda funny how that works out. But ok mom, thanks for the suggestion.

Last week I was sent to a “Marking Seminar” on how to network and get your message out that I am looking for a job. It actually was really great, and had a lot of very useful information. Not to mention that it helps with moral to feel like you have somewhere to go when you wake up in the morning.

One of the things that the instructor had mentioned was the idea of making lemonade. We all know the famous, and mainly overused statement,

When life gives you lemons, you make lemonade.

Here’s a little secret: making lemonade blows. No one likes to do it. In fact, I could argue that it is just plain awful. But here’s another little secret: you don’t have any other option.

Short of crawling in to your closet and ceasing to exists, you have to grab a some sugar, a knife, your lemons,  and start cutting. There may be moments where you would rather grab the knife and slice your wrists – but honestly, no one likes bloody lemonade.

So, now that we are about at the month marker of my officially being shitty, let me tell you about some of lemonade moments that I have encountered.

1) My girlfriend Roxie had a baby in the beginning of November. Taylor Evangeline is the most precious and amazing event that I have encountered in my entire life. Not having a job has meant that I have been able to have a front row seat into the miracle of childbirth, babies, and new motherhood. Its indescribable.

2) As most of you know, I’m a writer. (haha, duh). Not having a job has helped me to take a moment to seriously consider the possibility of changing careers. We all know that I wasn’t a very good admin (no kidding, I got canned!!) and now I have been exploring the idea of publishing, marketing, design layout…its amazing. I actually signed up to take a class at Saddleback College in magazine journalism starting next month. Now if I couldn’t only figure out a way to get paid to do all of this….

3) If you haven’t met my grandma, you are missing out on the world’s coolest person. She is amazing, and brave and courageous, and I have been taking her to acupuncture appointments two times a week. Which to her is THE most loving thing a person can do. She wrote me this card that said in Spanish “thank you for giving me the precious gift of your time.”…what she doesn’t know is that I’m actually getting the better end of the deal!

4) Language development. I have long since wanted to be fluent in Spanish. Hanging out with G-ma means that lately my Spanish has been kick ass.

5) Making new friends. Part of having more time means that I have been trying to meet people like crazy. Do you have friends that I can meet? Great! Cause I want to know them! I realize how easy it is to become comfortable with those who know us well, and never stop to see if there are other neat people we can know. Its been exhilarating and fresh to meet all kinds of great new people.

6) Old friends. Nothing is better than telling an old friend “I’m still just feeling really lonely.” And then having her plan a party/get together for that weekend. I really do have some of the most caring and loving people in my life, and it has been a blessing to struggle in their presence.

7) Then there are all of the little joys: finding out that I can make free business cards, going to the 5.10 outlet for new climbing shoes in the middle of the week, writing tons, searching the Internet for great Christmas Eve Dinner recipes…the list goes on forever.

In the end, making lemonade is uncomfortable. Having things go wrong is uncomfortable. Having to tell people that you feel awful is uncomfortable.  But the older I get, the more that I am learning that a big portion of life is dealing with hardship. Problems that aren’t your fault, and injustices that happen to befall on your plate. We don’t get to change or control the fact that life REALLY sucks sometimes.

The only thing we control is us; our responses to the tragedies and injustice. And for me, there are two things that I need: to maintain hope, and the ability to resist bitterness.

Which I heard somewhere that making lemonade is really simple….those are the only two ingredients that you need.

I just got back from a jog. And for those of you who don’t live near to us here in Orange County…there has been a storm that rolled in on  Monday, and we have been plagued with frigid weather and rain for the past several days. And yes, this isn’t merely “Orange County Cold,” I believe it really classifies as cold; it was 43 degrees when I got back in the car from the run (that’s 6 degrees Celsius for my international friends).

“Jog?” You ask. “Like, you really went running in this storm?”

Yep. And it was the best run I have ever had in my entire running career. Seriously, when I got back to the house, I had to double check my distance, because I have never run 5 miles so fast.

So let me paint you a little picture of what played out in front of me this afternoon during my jog:

The rain is falling steadily in the darkening afternoon. And there I am running with a determined pace, feet pounding against the sidewalk with purpose.  All layers of my clothes are soaking wet; my hair is damp and sticking to my forehead as my pink cheeks glow with energy. The sky is dark and churning, and it almost seems as if the next hour floats my in slow motion, with the drops of rain dramatically colliding into my skin, mixing with the droplets of perspiration as I press forward purposefully.

It is in this moment that it dawns of me, that this is really a beautiful moment. We have all had times in our lives when you look around and see something noteworthy – something breathtaking. Sprinting in the pouring rain, pushing through the night to set details just right for the important presentation in the morning, facing the mistakes you have made and telling someone that you are wrong and you are sorry, muscling through a rock climb until your hands begin to bleed in desperation, the examples are endless. But they all have one thing in common – there is pain. There is ugliness. There are dark clouds. And yet it is because of these obstacles that there can be beauty.  Its like a tense marriage where there must be the existence of one to have the other.

The human spirit is a very curious thing. It will be not be shoved down easily. It can take dark nights of the soul, death, break ups, lay offs, bankruptcies, miscarriages, car accidents, sexual abuses, sorrows, traumas, and tragedies and yet still push through. It is as if at one moment we decide that we do not want to disappear silently, and dig ourselves out of the cocoons and emerge with fierceness to overcome.

And as a people, there is something that we find fascinating with this entire process. We have an entire multi-billion dollar movie industry built upon it. Think about the premise of nearly any movie ever made. You have a character, you become acquainted with their situation, and then they encounter a problem, a trauma, or a tragedy. The main position of the movie is to allow us to witness them overcoming their circumstances. And this is the underlying theme for dramas like Million Dollar Baby, romance movies like The Notebook, or even children’s movies like Akeela and the Bee. There is something in each of us that silently cheers for the beauty and the sorrow. There is something in us that loves the tension.

There is something in me that made me come home, staring out the window at the rain, and decide to reach for my running shoes. There is something in me that loves the feel of my heart pounding in my chest and the music begins to majestically fill my ears while the rain and sweat pours down my face.

I know it is not everyday that it makes sense to me like this. There are days when I see the clouds and I simply want to crawl back to bed and hide away from the rain and cold. But one thing that I realize, is that in general, we are a people that love to see what we are made of. We love to rise to the occasion. We love to overcome adversity with ferocity.

So, I’m thankful for today. And for rain. And for beautiful jogs in the storm. And for realizations that, in the words of Dorothy Thompson,

“…Life in all of its sorrows is good; even if in a sense beyond our own understanding.”

 “Well Jenni, when it rains it pours.”

If I had a nickle every time someone has said that to me this week – I wouldn’t be as worried about being poor from my recent unemployment. And yes, the saying is ringing true because not only did I get laid off, but my boyfriend and I broke things off just a day or two ago. And I’m not looking for an Internet lark about how much I miss him or hate him….let’s leave that to the Junior Highers. For the record, it was seen in coming, he is a wonderful guy and unfortunately it was bad timing for the two of us. I’m sad to see him leave my life, but know that he has been nothing short of a gentleman toward me….which I suppose makes ending a relationship feel that much worse. Anyway, not the point.

What is the point is how this layered bad news has suddenly caused a very serious line of questioning in my mind. I’m angry. I’m crazy angry. And not at my ex, or at my job that laid me off. I’m angry I’m back here again – in the valley of life. When my ex first left my house after it was all over – the first thing into my head was simply “SERIOUSLY GOD? HONESTLY.” I mean I would LOVE to loose my job and my boyfriend in the same week – is there anyway that we can make that happen?

-I’m entering disclaimer here: The thoughts that you are about to read are on the bold side. Possibly even pushing the envelope. I’m not trying to be dramatic, or disrespectful. Just being honest and real about what today looks like from my eyes. Read on with caution, and please don’t leave condemning comments about what a blasphemer I am.-

This last year has been hard for me – in fact, the past few years have been hard for me. I’ve even had friends say to me “Man Jenni, this has not been easy for you”  In the course of 2008 I have nearly immigrated to Canada, nearly gotten engaged, nearly changed careers, then suddenly gotten dumped, suddenly NOT moved to Canada, NOT gotten married, and NOT changed careers, I’ve moved 3 times, I’ve started a new job, I’ve gotten laid off, and I’ve just said ‘goodbye’ to quite possibly the heathliest relationship with the most respectful guy that I have ever known. The words “Stripped Bare” come to mind….and shortly on their heels is “What the hell God?”

What the hell God?

The part that makes me angry is where the answer comes saying: we are all here to bring God glory. That people say “He will never give you more than you can handle” and “He knows what he is doing – it will all work out to bring him glory.”

See, that makes me angry. Part of me looks at this whole thing and has to question “Is God a drama queen?” Is there some reason that coming through for me with plenty of time isn’t cool  enough for God – He’s gotta pull some Disneyland Spectacular Firework show of coming through with just what I need in the 11th hour, withthe whole thing on fire and covered with glitter?

He can’t just be ok with me asking “Hey God, I have 8 weeks to find a job” And he says “Sure Jenni, I’m big enough where I don’t need all 8 weeks and won’t make you sweat…I’ll give it to you in two.” I feel like it always has to be this “stripping” experience…where the bottom falls out of my world – where its an 11th hour miracle – where its all fireworks and Fantasia. And part of me is beginning to look at it all in disgust.

 God if this is your glory – I don’t want it. It hurts too much.

I have this cousin, she’s 11 years old. She’s ADHD and an only child, but yet she’s wicked smart – ranking in the college levels. She ’s impulsive from the ADHD, and she talks al ot -  and from being the only child in her house she NEEDS to be the center of attention. If she’s not being listened to as she rambles away or cracks jokes, she gets her feelings hurt. And there were times today where I just looked at her and couldn’t help but ask “God are you the same way?” Are you like some insecure, impulsive, only-child that NEEDS us all to pay attention to you all the time? Where you need to decide that I don’t need a job or a boyfriend….so I’ll have more time to play “Old Maid” with you – like my cousin does? Don’t get me wrong, I love my cousin; she’s sweet and her habits are endearing…but I don’t want my God like that.

I don’t want a God brings glory through making me cry. Who “makes me a person of character” through destroying my life every 12 months. I get it that bad things happen to people – but honestly – I don’tknow anyone who has been as grounded as I have been and yet still has had to deal with this much shit so close together. I feel like I might as well be smoking crack and partying my life away – at least the consequences will feel justified.

But that’s the thing – I don’t want to party my life away. I don’t want drugs. I just want what seems to come so easily to my friends: a job that pays my bills and makes me happy, a man that loves me and likes to take me on fun dates and laugh withme, an interesting life filled with adventures and beauty.

Is that too much to ask?

As mad as this all makes me, I know God isn’t a show off child like my cousin, and he doesn’t need Disney to make his miracles worth it. God is good. He does not simply emulate goodness…the essence of goodness is his being. I know that. And I think I’m ok with thinking these kinds of things because I know that God is big enough to hear them. He’s not going to get his panties in a bunch because I’m asking hard questions. Am I happy with God? Absolutely not. But am I about to curse God, or walk away? Eh, not today. 

The thing is, I’ve realized it’s good to question truth. Because you are never going to be lead away from what is real. And at the end of the day, I’m not looking for a small fake God. I’m looking for the real deal. And if that means having the bottom smashed out of my world, and having me raise my fist and question God’s need to show off - so be it. I’ll be the one who’s bold enough to ask “God are you a dramatic, ADHD, spoiled only child who NEEDS me to be in pain so you can look cool?”

I’m hoping the answer’s no. I’m hoping the answer is that answer is God looks at me and simply says “Jenni, where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth? Or who laid the cornerstone, while all of the morning stars sang together and the angel’s shouted for joy? Have you every given orders to the morning, or shown the dawn it’s place? Have you journeyed to the springs of the sea, or walked recesses of the deep? Have you entered the store houses of snow, or seen the storehouses of hail? Do you send the lightning bolts on their way? Do they report to you, ‘Here we are’?” (Job 38-39)

Because I would rather have that God. A God that is the shit, and wants to create real Fantasia in my life for the purpose of something real; not simply sparkles and drama for the sake of anxiety and excitement. I would feel more ok with saying “ok God” to the one that has the world at his command. 

 I’m still mad. I’m still really hurting. And I don’t know where this whole thing is going – or what God is trying to prove by clearing my life. But I think when you are really mad an hurting, I need God to be the shit. Because if God is just the show off child, I’m more lost than I bargained for.

In my life I have one friend that I have known longer than any other. My friend and I have known each other since we were eight. And unlike most childhood friendships, we weren’t merely forced to play with one another because our parents were friends. We were in the same summer camps, winter camps, bible studies, choir groups, Junior High Retreats, High School bible studies, Small Groups, College Groups (can you tell that we both grew up in the church?)

The thing about my friend – is that she was home schooled…and perfectly  fit the bill for a home schooled girl. Quiet, had some quirks, extremely religious, ULTRA conservative.

Ok excuse the stereotyping…but you catch my drift…

And I suppose, over the years, it seemed to us that life would always follow the same path – her being a sheltered and conservative child, growing into a conservative adult with a conservative husband and conbservative children. But as things go…life will happen to a person. And it did. Especially to her and her family. In our Sophomore year of college some catastrophic events came colliding into her family and her life…for all intensive purposes we can say that her world fell apart. She went from being sheltered and happy to being suddenly forced to dealing with particularly difficult circumstances - and being the oldest of two other sisters, you can imagine that her duties were lined up for her.

For a few years after it all happened, she remained incredibly responsible. She dropped out of school and got a job, trying to go back part time, while keep in touch with her professors. She ensured that here sisters had jobs and places to live. She was scraping just to get by, and ensured that her sisters were scraping by as well.

It seemed suddenly to me that her life took a turn.  Her sisters were a bit older. She no longer needed to hold it together for them…and an opportunity came along for her to move to New York for her dancing. And she packed up her life and went.

She packed up her life and went.

I talked with her this weekend, and I’ve realized that now that she is no longer under the pressures of her life, she has much decided to become a different person. The once Theology Bible College student is now a cocktail waitress at an Irish Pub in the Bronx, and running with characters that usually you see on TV…on Crime Shows. She’s finding that she no longer feels the same way about alot of things….money, alcohol, sexuality, men, religion, God.

She’s finding that she no longer feels the same way about alot of things….money, alcohol, sexuality, men, religion, God.

Now, here’s the part that lands her in my writing. We talked very openly and frankly about the changes that she had decided to undertake in her life. And I of course, it was sad to hear that such a good friend of mine was deciding to make some arguably dangerous and risky decisions. But at the same time, upon knowing her life and all that has happened to her…I wasn’t at all shocked. I understood. There have been times in my life, where if I had been a different person, I would have found anyway to party, drink, sleep around, strip, tattoo, race cars, travel, take drugs, or whatever I could get my hands on to get away from God and the Church. The thing was…I never could find my way to New York or any of those other things. So I stayed right where I was…in the church.

I hung up the phone with her feeling great. Glad that we could have such a good conversation, and glad that I could be so open not only with accepting where she was at – but also giving her fair warning that she was playing with fire. She ave assured me that she knew at some point that she would return to God – she knew too much to completely abandon everything…but just that she wasn’t ready yet. I told her to not be afraid to come bounding back the second she was ready – but in the mean time, to have a buddy, a designated driver, a condom, and some street smarts.

That was Monday morning, And to be honest, the thoughts lightly rolled around in my head for the past few days, until they suddenly hit me like truck – last night while standing alone in my boyfriends bathroom. It was as if 50 tons of grief was poured over my head like cement, gluing my shoes to the very spot on the floor. And as I stood frozen, the hot tears began to pour from eyes as I sobbed uncontrollably. And all the while I am thinking “Absolutely perfect, my new boyfriend is now going to be CONVINCED that I am crazy.”

Crazy or not, what it was not her bad choices that had struck me so deeply. It was simply a deep seeded grief that her life story included tragedies to a degree that bad choices would even seem appealing in comparison. I had no judgement for what she was doing, instead rather it seemed to me like a car speeding down the freeway, and someone had thrown a rock through the windshield. Undoubtedly the car would spin out of control, smash and topple into everything in its path. And it would be no fault of the driver…it would merely be the reaction in the wake of such events. And the idea that we lived in a world where rocks smash through windshields of our close friends was enough to make me feel like I’d been punched in the gut.

And then the words came to me like they’d been spoken right into my ear:

For as much as you are grieved by her life, that much more I am, your Father God grieved for her life? And Jenni, if I am grieved by her bad decisions… how much more is this true of you? Don’t you see that the dark parts of your past is not something that I see as years of streaking shame and filth, but instead as a deep tragedy that happened to you, and your best attempts to deal with the repercussions that left you spinning out of control?

If I hadnt been crying before, I was certainly crying now. And if my boyfriend didn’t think I was crazy before, he certainly thought I was crazy now. Sticking his head in he asked with a bewildered look on his face “Um, are you ok…?” I managed to choke out some lame version of my friend and being sad about her…doing nothing close to justice of the colossal voice that had just been spoken inside of me.

And as the next week has come and gone even, I do not find that I have stumbled upon more clarity to upack this striking truth. During a season where I’ve spent much of my time trying to remind myself of who I am – purely – who I am without my past, my sad stories, my sometimes shameful memories, or even right out lies about my identity, these words have echoed inside my soul. My boyfriend has said it to me before, “Jenni I would love for you to get to a place where you see your life story is something that has happened to you – not something that defines you or defiles you…” Makes me cry everytime.

He’s right on with that thought, and so was God with his ground breaking ideas about the way that he sees my sin and shame. Of course it makes him sad. Yet at the same time – how much does he love talking to me, asking me questions, and seeing me through right in the midst of it? And how is it that he can see right into my heart – not only to see the wrong choices I am making, but the deeper issues that make those choices appealing to begin with? And how can it be that even in the midst of sometimes betraying his love for me, he says “Jenni I am so grieved that we live in a world that causes you pain – pain to the point of sin and self destruction. More than anything I want to weep for the hurts you’ve had to endure.”

Maybe this is something that only reverberates within my own soul. Maybe this is a messages that misses all of you. Maybe I am one of the only ones that lately really has had to struggle and fight to find who I am really and and what I am really defined by.  Maybe I am the only one who thinks that if anyone really knew all of me – even the dark parts of me, that they might leave me. 

Maybe I am the only one who thinks that if anyone really knew all of me – even the dark parts of me, that they might leave me.

Whether or not this even makes sense to you – I can tell you one thing. God seems to have a differing opinion about me and the life I have lived. He doesn’t seem to fall for my rhetoric about who I am and what the world has to  say about me. In fact, this idea seems to be rather important to him. Apparently, He believes this difference is important enough that He had to bring me to my knees in tears one random Wednesday night, while standing alone in my boyfriend’s bathroom.