Tuesday, July 11, 2017

Learning to Love

It is probably not the best policy to deal with sensitive issues at 3am, after exactly 0 hours of sleep, quality or otherwise.

I totally feel this cartoon.

I lay tangled in my sheets, bleary eyes staring at my phone screen, trying to process the emotionally-charged conversation I was having with a friend. Instead of being rational, or merciful, I became offended.

Over the next few days, the little devil on my shoulder maliciously fed me lots of examples of the failings of my friends. My bad mood was not helped by work stress, consistent lack of sleep, and some other emotionally draining experiences, and within my heart festered a growing resentment over feeling ill-used and neglected. 

I was feeling that many of my relationships were strained, and I was miserable.

Cue pity-party. How could they?! Didn’t they know friendship is a two-way street?! Shouldn’t my dear friends know me well enough, or care enough about me, to do something?!

I said nothing to the friends I inwardly resented. 

When it comes to handling conflict, my default style is either A) ignore it, B) play the unaffected Ice Queen who gets on with life as normal (it can’t hurt if you don’t have a heart), or C) pull away. (This may have something to do with moving a lot. Regardless of the situation, something in my subconscious usually says, “At some point, I will leave you, or you will leave me, so why have difficult conversations, why reveal my true self, why work to make things better?”)

I always related to Elsa. "Don't let them in,
don't let them see..."

I have been making efforts to change this over the past year. There may indeed be a time to be quiet and let it go, but there’s also a time to be vulnerable and honest and try to improve a situation or deepen a relationship.

I did make things right with my friend. My rationality kicked back in eventually, I got some more sleep, and I got over my mood. We had that honest, vulnerable conversation at a saner hour of the day, and I realized something important in the process.

"We are here to learn how to love." John & Stasi Eldredge

Love isn’t simply about romance. Love is about friendship, too.

There seems to be a lot said about communication and "love languages" (ways we communicate and feel love) when it comes to building a relationship with a special someone. After all, especially in the first stages of romance, it’s fun to find out and implement exactly what makes the object of your affection feel appreciated. And it remains important over time.

But what about building strong friendships? Communication and love languages are relevant here, too.

Do you know what makes your friends feel most loved? Do you know how you give and receive love? (You can find out for free here. I always like free personality tests haha…)

Any guesses what their love languages are? :)

According to Gary Chapman, we tend to give love in the way we receive it. 

For example, my two main "love languages" are words of affirmation and quality time. I feel most loved when my friends talk with or write to me (especially if they take time to write meaningful messages that go deeper than “Hey, how’s life? I’m good here.”), affirm or compliment me, and when we go on adventures or even spend time doing simple, everyday things together.

In turn, I tend to show my love to them by messaging, writing cards, and trying to initiate hang-outs. That’s what makes me feel loved, so why wouldn’t they feel loved, right?

Fair enough. But it’s so much more meaningful to find out exactly what makes your friend feel the most valued, and then do that. It becomes easier for them to “get” how much you care about them.

Besides learning how to better show my appreciation to my friends, I'm also discovering that learning to love means learning how to communicate more effectively. 

Quote from this book, one of my recent favourites.
Read it!
That may mean learning how to be a better listener. To find out where the other person is coming from. To realize how they handle conflict, and what affects their responses. 

"We too often act from scripts generated by the crises of long ago that we've all but consciously forgotten. We behave according to an archaic logic which now escapes us, following a meaning we can't properly lay bare to those we depend on most. We may struggle to know which period of our lives we are really in, with whom we are truly dealing and what sort of behaviour the person before us is rightfully owed. We are a little tricky to be around." -- Alain de Botton 

That may also mean being more willing to voice what is actually going on inside. To stop sweeping things under a rug. To share our feelings, respectfully but honestly, with safe people. To risk being seen. 

Friendships, as well as romance, take work. Or, if you don’t like the term “work,” try substituting “effort” and “intentionality.”  

Learning how to love is not always easy.  But great friendships, like great romantic relationships, don’t just “happen.” 

People don’t magically find connections that stay close and amazing at all times, no matter what. There are ebbs and flows to relationships, and for anything to grow, it needs nurturing.

Over the past few months, I have been challenged to learn how to love better. I have realized the importance of admitting that I am not the perfect friend, either. 

Learning to love takes effort, intentionality, and humility... but I have a feeling it's worth it. 

"We realize that life depends -- quite literally -- on the capacity for love... We learn the relief and privilege of being granted something more important to live for than ourselves." -- Alain de Botton

Sunday, March 12, 2017

Songbird Barbie Blues: Thoughts on Disappointment and Gratefulness

When I was six years old, all I wanted for Christmas was Songbird Barbie. I saw her on the shelf of a department store and was immediately obsessed. I thought she was the most beautiful Barbie I had ever seen, and in my vivid imagination I made up stories featuring this singing princess, talking birds, and, of course, a few handsome princes for good measure. In my mind, Songbird Barbie lived. I made sure my parents knew how much I wanted her. When I went to bed on Christmas Eve, I dreamt about running to the tree the next morning and finally unwrapping my coveted doll. Reality, however, was sorely disappointing. I don't remember what I actually did receive that Christmas; I was so focused on what I hadn't been given that more than twenty years later, I still remember that I didn't get Songbird Barbie after all. Woe was me.

My six-year-old conception of real happiness
As an adult, sometimes I've caught myself repeating this negative kind of focus. Sometimes I find myself so fixated on things that aren't working out the way I wanted, that I miss what I can be grateful for in the moment. I sigh over what I don't have and don't fully appreciate what I do have. I look so long at some loss that I forget to see gain. I focus on what God isn't giving rather than what He is giving. 

John Eldredge tells a story of how he went on a wilderness hike to fish in a particular creek. As he hiked along the way, he fished in the beautiful Bear river.
"The Bear proved to be the treat of the day. By the time I reached the creek, I'd caught a half-dozen fish without much effort. And now that I'd reached my goal, it became obvious that the creek was unfishable." (Walking with God, p. 68)
John was as disappointed at not getting his creek as my six-year-old self had been about not getting her Barbie. Although the river had turned out to be everything he had hoped the creek would be -- "solitude, beauty, wild fish on a dry fly" -- he sulked the way back to his car because he hadn't got what he wanted. However, he draws a profound point from his experience.
"Then I remembered something that God has been teaching me this summer--it's not what he isn't giving but what he is giving. We can get so locked onto what we don't have, what we think we want or need, that we miss the gifts God is giving." (Ibid.
It's about what God is giving. This is something I have been learning, too.

Sometimes there's a reason we don't receive what we want, a reason that God is not giving us something, as I have discovered more keenly with jobs and relationships. Sometimes we can look back and honestly say, "Actually, it's good that didn't work out the way I thought I wanted it."

For example, recently I applied for a librarian/teaching job. I thought I really wanted it; the description sounded like it would suit me perfectly. I didn't get the job. I did cover the position until the new staff member arrived, however, and I was surprised to discover that I didn't like the role after all. It didn't fit me, and I felt a surge of relief when the cover period was over! It was one of those moments when I could look back and be glad something wasn't given to me.

At other times, we just have to wait for God to give us the something we've been asking for.

And sometimes God wants to give us something totally different.

Wherever we are in the process of asking, waiting, receiving, or not receiving, I'm learning that it's so important to focus on what God is giving. Every day there is something.

"He doesn't deny any good thing to those who live with integrity." (Psalm 84:11)
"You feed them from the abundance of your own house, letting them drink from your river of delights." (Psalm 36:8)
"So if you sinful people know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Heavenly Father give good gifts to those who ask him." (Matthew 7:11)
"Now to the God who can do so many awe-inspiring things, immeasurable things, things greater than we could ask or imagine..." (Ephesians 3:20)
"Pray, and keep praying. Be alert and thankful when you pray." (Colossians 4:2, emphasis mine)
The Bible is full of promises and verses about God's abundance and desire to give us good things. The trick, I guess, is trying to see things from His perspective, especially when it appears He isn't giving that good thing we want yet! I continue to learn to trust that He is working out the best for me, that He will give good things, and that He is giving good things.

Cultivating a habit of gratefulness, of paying attention to what He is giving, even in the small things, makes so much difference to your perspective and your emotions. (It may even make a difference to your brain!)

So, what is He giving you today?

"Father, forgive me. Forgive my demanding posture that life has to come to me on my terms. Oh Lord, how many gifts have I missed? The posture is ugly and narrow. I pray for a more gracious posture, to be open and grateful for what you are giving at any time." (Walking with God, p. 70)

Friday, February 17, 2017

I Will Lead Her to the Wilderness

The new year did not start very well for me.

One particularly difficult night, as I spilled my hurting soul onto the pages of my journal, I listened to one song again and again. The chorus resounded, "I will trust you. All my hope is found in your love. I will trust you. My whole life is found in your love. And your goodness, kindness, faithfulness persist through the night." Yes, I thought. In the end, God, it's all about your love, even through the night. Show me.

The next morning I woke up with these words running through my mind: "I will lead her into the wilderness and speak tenderly to her." I knew it was from a Bible text; I had seen a friend post a Facebook status about it several weeks ago. A quick Google search gave me the verse.

"Therefore, look! I will now allure her. I will make her go out to the wilderness, and I will speak to her heart. There I will restore her vineyards to her, and the Valley of Achor will become a doorway to hope." Hosea 2:14-15 (International Standard Version)  

In that moment, as my heart responded to the text, I knew God was speaking to me.

I knew God had been leading me, but...I hadn't expected to be led into the wilderness. Such a barren, difficult environment is hardly somewhere you would expect to be allured to. Yet perhaps it was here that I would be in a better position for God to speak "tenderly" to me, or speak to my heart, as the translation above puts it.

The Hebrew word translated as "tenderly" (v 14) is literally leb, meaning "heart." God was saying he would have a heart-to-heart with me -- an intimate conversation from his heart to mine.

The Bible commentator Barne's notes on this passage threw some further beautiful light on the meaning of God speaking to the heart:

"Literally, on her heart, making an impression on it, soothing it, in words which will dwell in it and rest there... God speaks to the heart so as to reach it, soften it, comfort it, tranquillise it, and, at the last, assure it...

"It is in solitude that he so speaks to the soul and is heard by her, warning, reproving, penetrating through every fold, until he reaches the very inmost heart and dwells there. And then he infuses hope, kindles love, enlightens faith, gives feelings of childlike trust, lifts the soul tremblingly to cleave to him whose voice she has heard within her.

"Then his infinite Beauty touches her heart; his holiness, truth, mercy penetrate the soul; in silence and stillness the soul learns to know itself and God, to repent of its sins, to conquer self; to meditate on God."

That, I knew, was what I wanted. To hear God more clearly, to have my walk with him be even more real and personal. At that moment I felt that although I wasn't quite sure how, I would get through the wilderness if I could hear him speak to my heart like that.

 "...There I will restore her vineyards to her, and the Valley of Achor will become a doorway to hope."

Beyond the assurance that God would speak to me in my wilderness, this verse reminded me there was good to come. Although the desert place may be full of trouble and hardship (as the Hebrew name Achor signifies), God would somehow use it as a doorway to hope.

In that moment, my heart felt peace. Somehow, ultimately, everything would be OK.

In fact, reading the next verse showed me more of what God would be doing through this experience.

"'At that time,' declares the Lord, 'you will address me as 'My Husband,' and you will no longer call me 'My Master.'" (Hosea 2:16)

Our wilderness experiences can lead us to a more intimate view of and relationship with God.

I think that's beautiful, I wrote in my journal, because after all, that is what my whole life is about, and what I ultimately want most. 

As I wrote down more of my reactions to the verses in Hosea, I looked them up in the original Hebrew (yeah, I'm geeky like that). I was struck to find that the word translated as "lead" or "make her go" into the wilderness can also be translated as "come" or "accompany."

So God goes with me into the wilderness, I noted. Then my eyes fell on the Bible texts printed at the bottom of the journal pages I had been filling:

"May the God of peace Himself give you His peace at all times and in every situation." (2 Thess 3:16)

"Let the peace that comes from Christ rule in your hearts." (Col 3:15)

"Do not be afraid, for I have ransomed you. I have called you by name; you are mine. When you go through deep waters, I will be with you." (Isaiah 43:1-2)

Oh, the kindness of God. He knew what I needed to hear.

I knew I was still going to struggle through a difficult time, through my own wilderness, but I wasn't going to be alone. God was up to something. God was speaking to me, and he would continue to speak to me. I simply had to wait.

The God who speaks his heart to me, who cares about the details of my personal life, and who relates to me as if I were the only one on earth to have his watch-care, feels exactly the same about you.

In the middle of your wilderness, he is with you. He wants to speak to your heart. He waits and works to turn your difficult place, your "valley of Achor," into a doorway of hope.

Trust him.

 "To all who grieve, He will give a crown of beauty for ashes, a joyous blessing instead of mourning, festive praise instead of despair. In their righteousness, they will be like great oaks that the Lord has planted for his own glory." (Isaiah 61:3) 

Tuesday, October 11, 2016

"Release Them" -- Love, Fear, and Letting Go of the Past

Summer. The beginning of Wedding Season, and I wasn't exactly in the best place to enjoy it.

"This weekend is a celebration of love," I wrote in my journal the night before a friend's wedding. "I'm in a particularly vulnerable place right now, since I've been reminded of my wounds and my agreements about love. Things look poised to press all those vulnerable places tomorrow. Protect me, God, from making agreements with lies; heal my heart."

I had been re-reading a new favourite book, Walking with God by John Eldredge, and in one chapter the author had talked about his agreements with love. His words resonated with me, dragging up memories from my past and hitting me in the chest with my own beliefs about love:

"Have I made an agreement that I will never be loved?...Agreements are really nasty and subtle things. They pin our hearts down, or shut them down by handing over to the enemy a sort of key to a certain room in our hearts...Think back over your story of love. In those moments when you were wounded, you were really vulnerable for agreements to come in. They come swiftly, imperceptibly, often as some message delivered with a wound...I came back to this issue with a question for myself: What do I believe about love? That it never stays." (pp. 93-96)

This chapter brought a startling wave of pain as I faced my own beliefs about love, and was an unexpected jolt to realizing my need of healing afresh.

God had been bringing up my issues with love and fear in various ways since the beginning of the year (as I also discuss here), but I was a professional at pushing them to the back of my mind. I was always so busy.

Now, once more, I ignored my insecurities and anxieties and wounds, getting busy with finishing my Master's dissertation and having various mini existential crises. But God would not be put off so easily. He kept bringing up the issue in little ways. Again and again and again.

I kept being confronted with my fearfulness about love and life in general, and particularly at the end of the summer, some things began happening in my life and in my head that made me not want to be a slave to those fears any more.

Two or three weeks ago I bought an old book about one woman's experience in her Christian life and her growing intimacy with God. (The pile of books I'm currently reading ever increases--one of the delights of finally having time to read for pleasure!)

Last week I had been reading a chapter on forgiveness and letting go, and now as I sat on my bedroom floor, cup of tea in hand, I started reading the next chapter, which just so happened to talk about fear.

And suddenly God said to me, not so much in a voice as in a strong impression, "Release them. Release them to me."

The thought was so clear and startling that I wrote it down in my journal.

I knew what God wanted me to release, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to go there.

I didn't really want to go through the memories and pain and issues that I habitually relegated to my subconscious, yet which I knew had such a hold over me and how I interacted with others.

The things I told myself on my darkest nights, while my head knew they were twisted and false, had the strange comfort of familiarity.

Hiding from love, hiding from risk, hiding from the possibility of rejection and censure, was a way to protect the vulnerable, unhealed places in my heart. I had been coping, hadn't I? Perhaps. But not living the way I was meant to live.

I knew that whatever else God was up to, He was after my transformation. As John Eldredge puts it: "Remember--He is after both our transformation and our joy. The one hangs upon the other...Whole and holy. The two go hand in hand... Healed. As in fixed. Restored." (Walking with God, pp. 33-35)

"Long before God laid down earth's foundations, He had us in mind, had settled on us as the focus of His love, to be made whole and holy by His love." Ephesians 1:3-4, The Message

To be made whole and holy by His love. And so God was asking me to look at my fear and my beliefs about love again.

Two days later, I sat down in the conservatory and shut myself away from the world. Armed with a large cup of tea, two pens, my journal, and copious amounts of blank paper, I set about following God's instructions to "release them to Me."

I wrote down my memories, things that I thought I had forgiven or shrugged off, but which perhaps I hadn't forgiven after all, and which had obviously continued to have an impact on my way of thinking.

I wrote down my agreements about love.

I wrote down my fears.

I wrote down my agreements about myself. One thing that kept surfacing was the belief that I am not ____ enough. Fill in the blank any way you like, I've probably thought that about myself.

"Alright God," I said aloud. "You asked me to release these things. I give them up to You. Break the hold they have over my thoughts, my actions, and my reactions. Replace the false, hurtful agreements I have made about love, life, and myself with truth instead." I ripped up the sheets of paper, praying over each one.

As I sat in silence, God spoke to my heart again. I wrote the impressions down in my journal:

"Now that you have released these things, you must replace your fear with praise, and lies with truth.

You think love doesn't stay. My love never leaves. I love you with an everlasting love. I will never leave you. I rejoice over you --yes, you-- with singing.

I want you to look at Me, not at yourself and your inadequacies. Realign your focus. Love is freeing; it frees you to be your best self."

And then suddenly, He said something that touched at the recurring theme in my memories, the persistent belief that has kept me fearful -- the feeling of not being good enough.

"My love is not conditional. It is not based on your performance. I look at you and I see the perfection of my Son."

"What, God? What?" I gasped.

"When I look at you, I see the perfection of my Son. Quit thinking you are not enough."

I was crying now. God goes to the heart of the matter. He is so kind.

"When I look at you, I see the perfection of my Son."

He doesn't see me as not ____ enough. He doesn't look at me and think, "She's not good enough, not pretty enough, not talented enough for Me."

Because I am His, because I ask Jesus to cover my shortcomings with his Robe of Righteousness, because it is "no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me" (Galatians 2:20) -- God looks at me and sees perfection.

His love for me, His delight in me, is unchanging.

"God's Daisy Game"
And ultimately, it is God's opinion of me that matters most.

Finally, as I wiped away my tears and prepared to get back to the responsibilities of the day, God said to me, "Let my love replace fear at the core of your being. And my love will release you to love well, too."

It's been almost a week since that morning with God. Sometimes I still struggle with insidious insecurities and fears that raise up their heads and try to burrow back into my heart. It's a gradual journey. There is no magical overnight change, but there is progress, and I have at least made the conscious decision to let go of the things which have hurt me and kept me in fear. I have given God permission to rebuild my personality based on love instead of fear.

Whatever happens next, I want to keep hold of these truths God has been patiently showing me.

I want to be "rooted and grounded in love" -- I want to be able to understand "what is the width and length and depth and height -- to know the love of Christ which passes knowledge, that [I] may be filled with all the fullness of God." (Ephesians 3: 17-19)

I want that for you, too.

"You love me like I'm one in a million."
From the song "One in a Million" by Elevation Church Kids

Sunday, March 27, 2016

Christian Holidays and Pagan Roots: Honoring Other Gods?

This Easter I've seen quite a number of images like this floating around my Facebook news feed:

Something bothered me about seeing these posts, but not because they pointed to the pagan roots of and influences on our modern holiday traditions. We know that's a fact. It's not too hard to dig into history and find out that the Roman Church adopted certain pagan festivals and rechristened them as Christian celebrations. And even without a knowledge of history, it's not too hard to discern that bunnies and eggs have nothing to do with the Risen Christ.

However, when someone in my Christian family points these things out, I can't help wondering, "Why are you bringing this up? How important is this historical fact to the present-day meaning of the celebration? Are you inferring that I should not celebrate this holiday, and if so, why?"

This post is my attempt to succinctly articulate why all this bothers me.

"While knowledge makes us feel important, it is love that strengthens the church." 1 Corinthians 8:1
As I looked at the picture above, I couldn't help thinking that the principles in the writings of Paul could apply here. In 1 Corinthians 8, Paul addresses the issue of eating food that had been offered to idols. Some of the church in Corinth thought there was nothing wrong with it, and others had distinct qualms. Paul says:

"Well, we all know that an idol is not really a god and that there is only one God. There may be so-called gods both in heaven and on earth, and some people actually worship many gods and many lords. But for us, there is one God, the Father, by whom all things were created, and for whom we live. And there is one Lord, Jesus Christ, through whom all things were created, and through whom we live. However, not all believers know this. Some are accustomed to thinking of idols as being real, so when they eat food that has been offered to idols, they think of it as the worship of real gods, and their weak consciences are violated." (verses 4-7)

Paul reminds his readers that the gods they are worried about -- Baal, Ishtar, and Tammuz, to use the example in the picture above -- are really nothing. Eating meat offered to an idol -- or eating an Easter egg, or putting a Christmas wreath on your door -- means nothing.

But that's only part of what bothers me. The other thing that concerns me is that posts like these, and often the comments accompanying them, either implicitly or explicitly point judgemental fingers at other people. Sadly, we are often quick to raise eyebrows, to condemn, and to think that we are more righteous than our brothers and sisters because we do or don't do something, whatever "side" you're on. I believe that especially for issues such as the celebration of Easter and Christmas, this attitude is neither helpful nor necessary.

There is always the danger that "knowledge puffeth up", whether it's knowledge about the pagan practices that influenced current holiday traditions, or the kind of knowledge that Paul references in 1 Corinthians 8 and Romans 14.

However, Paul presents all his arguments in a framework of love.

Although he reminds believers that idols are nothing and implies that there's nothing to worry about in eating meat sacrificed to them, he also reminds them that they shouldn't go pointing fingers at someone who doesn't think the same way they do, or encouraging them to do something the other believer thinks is wrong.

Regarding judgemental tendencies, Paul writes to the Romans in a similar context as he wrote to the Corinthians:

"Those who feel free to eat anything must not look down on those who don't. And those who don't eat certain foods must not condemn those who do, for God has accepted them. Who are you to condemn someone else's servants? Their own master will judge whether they stand or fall. And with the Lord's help, they will stand and receive his approval... So why do you condemn another believer? Why do you look down on another believer? Remember, we will all stand before the judgement seat of God...Yes, each of us will give a personal account to God. So let's stop condemning each other. Decide instead to live in such a way that you will not cause another believe to stumble and fall." (Romans 14: 3, 4, 10-13)

The Bible has nothing to say about the celebration of Christmas and Easter holidays in the sense that we observe them today. God does not command that we keep or remember them in the same way that he wants us to keep the Sabbath or celebrate communion, for example. Believers should be able to make their own decisions about whether or not they keep these other holidays in accordance with their own conscience.

Ellen White, a respected author in my denomination, said the following regarding Christmas, and I believe the principle can be carried into other celebrations as well:

"Letters of inquiry have come to us asking, Shall we have a Christmas tree? Will it not be like the world? We answer, You can make it like the world if you have a disposition to do so, or you can make it as unlike the world as possible...A word to the wise is sufficient."

So celebrate Christmas. And Easter. Or don't.

Whatever you choose to do, it's important to remember that Christmas and Easter are times when people are thinking about Jesus, even if it is only fleetingly. Rather than focusing attention on pagan histories and starting debates about whether or not we should observe the holidays, as Christians, let's put the attention back on Christ.

"So then, let us aim for harmony in the church and try to build each other up." (Romans 14:19)

Instead of subtly or openly criticizing each other, let us focus on the reason that we exist and the mission God has given us to share His love.

After all, whatever you think about Easter, it doesn't change the fact: He is risen indeed. And that's something to be excited about.

Friday, February 12, 2016

Hiding from Love

I adored Jamie with all the shy fervency of my 10-year-old heart. With his olive skin, floppy dark hair, and oversized denim jacket, he was the cutest and the coolest 14-year-old in my neighbourhood. I'd had a crush on him since the day he leaned over his garden gate, hit me with a dazzling smile and laughingly teased me about the squeaky breaks on my bicycle as I rode past his house.

Close enough to how I remember him...haha
"I don't see the point of my crush," I wrote in my diary. (The introspection started early.) "He probably doesn't fancy me. In fact, he probably already has a girlfriend."

One day, as I was playing with Jamie's sister and her pet ferrets in the garden, one of Jamie's friends came and stood over us, twisting his baseball cap in his hands uncomfortably. "Jamie wants to know if you'll go out with him," he blurted out to me. I was stunned. My dreams were coming true! Then I thought of the wrath of my parents should they find out their innocent, 10-year-old daughter was going out with a 14-year-old "ruffian", and I shook my head. "I can't go out with him," I said, and ran away.

Jamie and his friends still hung around occasionally after that, but I would always find a reason to leave them before too long. I would hide behind my bedroom curtain and peek out to watch the object of my thwarted affection riding his BMX moodily around the block.

Fast forward fifteen years. I was having lunch at a friend's house, lazily scanning her bookshelves as I waited for the food, when the title of one book leapt out at me. "We all long to be cared for, but we prevent it by...HIDING FROM LOVE," the cover proclaimed, in huge enough print so that if you're reading the book in public, everyone can see at a glance what's wrong with you. Smaller print assured, "How to change the withdrawal patterns that isolate and imprison you."

At that moment something inside me clicked.

Since moving back to England, I'd had plenty of opportunity to consider loneliness and my attitude towards various relationships (friendships as well as romance). Although I've certainly had my share of crushes, I've never been one to jump into anything quickly or really pursue an interest, partly for good reasons and partly, as I was beginning to realize, for unhealthy reasons. I recalled my deepest love interests and realized that in spite of what good things I saw in the guys and hoped for between us, there had always been a part of me that knew a relationship wasn't likely to work out, even though I pushed those reasons into my subconscious. Then I imagined what it would be like to meet someone and pursue a serious relationship now, and to my surprise, the first thing I felt was...fear.

See the whole awesome comic here 

Perhaps I have been hiding from love -- metaphorically running away, as I literally ran away from Jamie all those years ago. I've definitely been living out withdrawal patterns. And I have been realizing that my past has a more significant impact on my present than I have always given it credit for.

There are probably many factors that play into my tendency to hide or withdraw.

One factor, I think, comes from moving around a lot as I grew up. The cross-cultural and highly mobile lifestyle of a pastor's/missionary's kid impacts your relational patterns. Some of those effects are good, but some of them are negative. As someone who travels a lot, even if you are used to making friends quickly, you become adept at avoiding deeper intimacy. As you become used to leaving and being left, you learn to minimize the pain of loss by perhaps refusing to acknowledge your true depth of care for anyone or anything, refusing to feel pain and becoming emotionally "flat", or "leaning away" from relationships -- becoming detached or withdrawn (David Pollock and Ruth van Reken). I've noticed this playing out in my life, especially in the sense of leaning away from someone, as if I'm subconsciously getting ready for the loss of a relationship.

Another factor is simply due to the hurts that accumulate from living in a broken world. Nobody has the perfect childhood or adolescence, and life leaves its wounds. I have my scars. Over the years, various experiences have imprinted a message on my heart that in one way or another, I am not enough. I have believed that if someone found out this or that about me, they would stop loving me, they would leave. It may be a lie, but it has become so deeply embedded in my way of thinking that even now I sometimes struggle to see it as anything but the truth. The resulting fear makes true vulnerability high risk and unappealing. And yet for the best relationships to flourish, particularly a serious romantic relationship, vulnerability is essential.

"The truth will set you free. Perfect love expels all fear. And so we know and rely on the love God has for us." (John 8 and 1 John 4)
I know many truths that can fight against the lies in my soul. I know that my worth ultimately comes from the God who sees me as I am and still wants to call me His friend.
"There is tremendous relief in knowing that His love for me is utterly realistic, based at every point on prior knowledge of the worst about me, so that no discovery can now disillusion Him about me or quench His determination to bless me." (J. I. Packer, Knowing God)
I am reading some great books to help me get past my fear, to help me find healing and stop hiding (including Becoming Myself and Hiding from Love).

But moving something from the brain to the heart takes time. Learning to have grace for myself in my imperfection and failure, as God has grace for me, is a process.
"We are free to fail. Because of Jesus, we can be free from the cages of other people's expectations, demands, yokes, and judgements--even our own...We are loved, forgiven, embraced."(Stasi Eldredge, Becoming Myself)  
If the saying is true -- "We accept the love we think we deserve" -- then only when I have accepted the truth about myself, the truth as God sees it, will I be free to accept love instead of hiding from it. And only then will I be free to truly give love, too.

Thankfully, I'm not on this journey by myself. Besides finding strength in my relationship with God, I have some safe people to grow with. True community, as I'm learning, is a necessary part of growth and healing.
"Relationships are portrayed as crucial in the Bible...Our need for connection extends not only to God. It also means we need each other. During the Creation, the only "not good" God mentioned in an otherwise perfect universe was that Adam was alone. God wasn't simply dealing with the benefits of marriage in this passage. He was addressing the deeper issue of our need for attachment and relationship, of which marriage is one important component... The fact is that having relationships with God and other people is not an either-or proposition; it is a both-and necessity. The heart has a deep need for God, who placed eternity there. The same heart yearns for satisfying and safe human attachments in which we can be truly known and truly loved, that we may all be one." (Dr. John Townsend, Hiding from Love) 
 Eventually I will learn not to hide from love. Eventually I will learn not just to extend grace to others, but also to myself.

And in the meantime, well, let's face it... I'm in grad school!


Friday, January 15, 2016


Everyone I know got married or engaged this winter. That is, everyone who was left over from the past couple of wedding seasons, when summer marriages in my social circle saw an unprecedented increase.

Well, alright, not everyone got married.

A guy I follow on Instagram visited 26 countries during 2015. A couple of people had babies. Other friends moved house, got new jobs or climbed their career ladder, travelled, helped refugees, went to shows in London, and generally got on with their grown-up lives.

I moved back in with my parents and went into further education, a move that left me with mixed feelings and no cash.

If you've read any of my blogs from the past few months, you'll know the transition from my old life to my new one was not easy. Sometimes I've struggled against feeling like a child again (although I have to credit my parents for not treating me as such) -- against feeling lonely -- against feeling trapped -- and against feeling behind.

Sometimes it's easy to compare myself with peers who look like they're "ahead" in their careers, relationships, financial situation etc., and wonder what happened with my own life. It's easy to feel like I haven't "made it" yet...whatever that means...and that everyone else has their lives figured out and on track.

Part of my problem, I think, is that I've always struggled to be fully engaged with the present. I tend to look forward to significant points in the future -- the weekend, graduation, the summer, my first regular paycheck -- at the expense of what is happening, what God is giving me, in the moment.

I think about the next place I'm going to go; I have trouble imagining myself in one place for very long or putting down any real roots.

I overlook or downplay my own everyday adventures because I wonder what other, potentially better, adventures my friends are having. I tend to think the grass really may be greener for them.

I miss out on joy.

I'm tired of that. Life is what happens while you're making other plans, so they say, and I don't want to miss out on happiness and fulfilment in my life as it is here and now.

In a very apt article, "How To Ruin Your Life (Without Even Noticing That You Are)", the writer states, "Understand that life is not a straight line. Life is not a set timeline of milestones." 

I'm beginning to internalize that.

I'm realizing that my life doesn't have to follow other people's timelines (or plot lines, as my story-loving mind likes to imagine it). I can let go of some of my own preconceived notions of what my life should look like, too. Particularly as a Christian, I can be assured that God is somehow working out things for good, and that He is weaving my story into part of a grander tale that I may not fully see or understand right now.

A colleague kinda brought me up short this week as I pondered how "behind" I was feeling.

We were talking about our language learning experiences in class, and I was briefly sharing some anecdotes about what had compelled me to learn German, Spanish, Lao, and Portuguese (to varying degrees of fluency), which included, of course, my travels and life abroad.

"Can I ask how old you are?" my classmate said.

"I'm 25," I replied.

"Wow, you've done so much!" she said.

I thought about it on my train-ride home. I have done a lot. My pathway may not have been very traditional, but I have so many stories and experiences and people that I would never have encountered if I hadn't gotten "behind." Honestly, I wouldn't exchange all of that to be on par with my peers in relationships and apartments of their own.

Riding 3 to a motorcycle? Done that!

These days, I may not have prospects of marriage or a job that allows me to support myself on the horizon, but I'm in the worldwide #1 university for my field, studying things that fascinate me, working towards a Master's degree in something I believe can help make a difference in the world. I have family and friends who support me.

What do I have to complain about, really?

I thought about these things as I watched the winter-grey, terribly ordinary suburban neighbourhoods of Greater London flash past my train window. And I was happy.

"Live to the hilt every situation you believe to be the will of God."