Showing posts with label God's giving. Show all posts
Showing posts with label God's giving. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 16, 2015

Choice to Cherish

Relationships are a mystery. They grow. They wain. Some are a surprise. Some are built into our life. Some are seen as good.  And some are seen as odd, an anomaly, or down-right dangerous.

One of these down-right dangerous, odd, anomalies is opposite-gender friendships. Many reading this may be uncomfortable with this topic, or have doubts as to if this is possible. Others of you may agree that its an anomaly, and not normal. And still others may breathe a sigh of relief. I have hesitated months to publish this, and I believe there is wisdom and wrestling yet to be done.

I grew up spending my free time usually with two brothers and many of their friends. I watched my older brother and his friends play basketball for hours. I chopped go-cart trails out of bush with my younger brother and his/our guy friends. I cut open coconuts, ran through trails, and killed snakes with those guy-friends. 

And then I moved during high school to a place where boys and girls interacted differently. In this new place, guys and girls hesitated, and often became part of groups that flirted with each other, or avoided each other. To simply talk seemed foreign.

Trying to fit in, I adopted and took on many of these cultural values and beliefs. For various reasons I chose to err on the side of the avoiding male interactions. It was safe.


There were walls I didn't see as I put myself in a self-labeled box "don't interact with me." I, nor others can be ourselves inside of a boxed category. Walls strangle emotions, pain and joy, fear and confidence, tenderness and anger inside. Maybe, if lucky, they seep out of a corner. The fullness of a person is stunted. Who they are ceases to exist when we play God and assign values and roles to people. 

Where there are roles (or zones), there is no relationship. In placing myself in a category, I could "be me" (aka the category) without being hurt or vulnerable -after all, I was being the "me" I chose to be, not who God created me to be.

This fear spurred by categories, impacted my idea of dating or being friend-zoned, which perpetuated itself.

There is a deep innate longing in each person to belong, to be loved, to be known. Being known is far more deep than being liked, flirted with, or simply informational. We desire to be known by both women and men. To be known goes down into the soul. But if our relationships with the opposite gender are portioned into two categories, what happens to this desire? It is squashed down, hidden, and creates fear. When friend-zoned, will others see me as valuable? What if they don't? Yet what if I don't want to be someone's special someone, but desire to still know them and be known? What happens to me? What are they thinking? What box are they putting me in? Can I be known without dating, but not be the second-class girl who hears about other girls all the time, or is "one of the guys?" So we as people acknowledge these zones, avoid these zones, long to be in the one we are not. We fear what others are thinking, what others will do, how others view us. We live in a state of anxiety and fear, giving the zones more and more strength and power to box us in, hide ourselves, and let our real selves slip through the cracks, as does our freedoms.

I never foresaw the damage this dichotomy would bring.

This dichotomy slowly ate away my security, spunk, and soul. And I imagine for many other people out there, men and women alike. If we were not the pretty one, the smart one, the one guys "went" for, then what were we? Many will say "it will be okay;" "God knows who will marry whom and when." How many times I have been told to "wait right here, and God will bring him when he/I/God is ready."?

Waiting is a needed skill. But waiting in the same place without seeking, is not the answer. God calls all to follow Him. No single-life-laziness or irresponsibility.

Fast forward eight years. Enter wise counsel from God, older (sometimes younger?!) women and men, and counseling. Prayers to learn to trust and to understand healthy relationships poured out year after year. And each year, ended with some changes, some unexpected growth slowly answering these prayers. 

This year is no different. This year I am surrounded by the most unique group of Godly men, who all live together. They started out as practically strangers. I began spending time with different ones for different reasons, and began being invited to events by others. Studying, thrifting, movies, bonfires, dancing, and talking.  I took the chance of being me...with (most) of my emotional self... and they accepted it without question. I am so fully loved and cherished by these men, and they are cherished in return. And the beautiful thing is, is that the love felt is not cheap. It is rich. And it cannot be measured.

Their love is shared with others too... :)

I know there are good, Godly men in the world, because I know some of them. I know there are men aware of themselves, because I've heard them share themselves and their ponderings. I know there are men who are aware of their affect, and their effect on others since I've seen these men sanding rough areas in their lives over time in order to live fully authentic, purpose-filled lives. Not only do I know of these types of men, but I've experienced them and cherish them.

Why has my heart healed?

Because these men, and their friends around them try to live out the gospel of true love. The word itself is so misused in our world today. Being cherished or loved does not have a scale. If God is love, and we have his love in us (1 John 4:7-8), then there is no dichotomy in our love. Yes, human love is not perfect, but there is no scale. Love flows from the heart. The choice to cherish someone is rooted in acceptance; there is no gradient. 

As people accept each other, each person is freed if they take and own the acceptance. Gifts do nothing, until they are received, opened, and owned by the receiver. They no longer need to fit someone else's box in order to "earn" love and acceptance. They are not forced into a behavior box of being flirty, or friend-zoned. Instead, there is freedom to allow nuances out, joys out, fears out, and their true self out without being judged, rejected, or losing "love/cherish-points" on a scale.

Oh the ridiculousness we have together!
Relationships are dynamic. These men around me are changing. I've let the days go by writing this and they have deepened, grown, and become more of their true selves. I have changed. Therefore our relationships are innately changed, because we are changed. We will continue to change. We grow. I must allow them to move farther away or closer in their own freedom. They allow me to spend lots of time with them or little. I do not have to fit a box of friend-zoned or date-able. Neither do they. People are like flowers. If we ever try to pick them and put them in a box, they look great at first, but slowly fade, losing their vibrancy, life-source, and impact, though their shell will remain identifiable. But if instead we stop and get to know them as they are, give care as we have to offer, and in like manner receive from them, a glorious garden of memories and aromas, pictures and colors, and depths and strong roots will flood the world around us all.

We are each _____ (insert our first names), cherished and valued by each other. I am not the sister. I am not the friend. I am not the cook. I am Laura, cherished. He is not the gardener. He is not the artist. He is not the prankster. He is _____, cherished. Are not we all this way? Can you insert your name in there? God loves each of us deeply, compassionately. When people may not see and cherish us, He does. And truly, I wonder, if we reached out and asked others, we might be surprised to find who around us cares.

It is a choice to cherish someone. It is also a choice to let someone cherish us. Either one is a vulnerable choice. And vulnerability, when safe, brings healing. The two genders do typically express their care for others differently. Those I cherish know it through my "Laura-means," and these men show their back in different ways that fit who each of them is. The important truth, is that each communicates in their way, the genuine truth of what they feel.

Christians have a gift of love and cherishing they can give to each other, with no gender disparity. Christian men and women have the opportunity to cherish not only those of their same sex, but just as importantly their gender counterparts. 

Let us not limit our God-given friends, relationships, and love because of gender. Let us cherish each person for who God has made them, and the journey He is leading them on. Let us run the race before us that God has set, allowing us to enjoy and know the people, both male and female, He placed in the lanes beside us at this point in time. People themselves do change, and their "running" positions next to us in life may change. Their race may end or take a turn, while God leads ours to another route. We have a choice to cherish them during such a time as this. 

Will you choose to cherish and be cherished? What would keep you from it? What helps you give it? accept it? Who could you talk to about this? 

Oh my Father, who loves us all,
I hear your whisper, "Cherished," you call.
Help me to trust Your still small voice,
And spread this to others;
This is my choice.


Tuesday, November 3, 2015

Searching

Questions surround.
Where to go, What to do.
Who to leave, and who to cleave.
Rubbed raw, the ache is real.


Thoughts surround.
Here a swirl; There a pool.
Mixing, Meshing, Blending.
Stretched and pulled, the quest sees no end.


Friends surround.
Where to open up, What to share.
Who to cry with,Who to hug.
Touched with love, life lives on.



Monday, February 17, 2014

Hidden Memories



As I packed my goal of one to three boxes a day, I've come across things I knew I had, but forgotten about. Memories flooded back from the last few years, hidden or missed over this time.


I remember buying these 100 Chinese bike-tube patches for less than $2. I've only used 3 so far. I've biked many-a miles from my old apartment (>3000). My bike could tell stories, some of the ending with him getting extra care in our front little grass-patch, as I bandaged him up. But sure as a marine, he leaves no man (or woman) left behind: He's still my trusty transportation! 

I remember when I brought home the first orphan-flowers. Being thrown out at work, I brought them home 2.5 years ago amid snickers from coworkers. Their new home gave them soup-can or plastic-cup pots to stretch their roots into. Later they acquired real "clothes" of terra-cotta pots. Now, they bask in my new window, among other orphan plants, waiting for summer to blossom.



I remember when a Starbucks customer gave me a bag over the counter, saying the scarf was just perfect for me. What that meant, I had no idea until I opened it up on my break. Lo and behold! I pulled it out. And kept pulling it out. And Kept pulling it out! 11 feet later... yes eleven feet later, I found the other end with matching gloves and a hat!



And this scarf has come in hand this winter., I've been toasty warm in these winter years -okay months- of below freezing and negative temperatures with its long, long, long arms encircling me up to 4 times!

I remember when I rolled and stuffed posters into this tube before going on the bike trip to France. I was so certain that after I returned from France, I would be starting a new life teaching in Haiti. I wanted at least a few wall-memories to take with me along with some of my art. And here they are, I never did unroll them after that plan fell through, which turned out for the betterment of all. The pain has softened.



I remember countless nights in the dorm room with Heidi, Andrea, Kara, Allie, and so many others, drinking hot chocolate, tea, or just hot water from this little hot-pot. We learned and gained friends and sisters, character polishing and refining, tears and hugs: precious moments that are graven into my heart and life. And of course, keeping with tradition, our mood or need in that moment decided for which mug of meaning was used (or was offered by the others!). Life is fun and joy-filled, even with broken areas of us. Beauty and encouragement from multiple avenues. Chaos and simplicity, contrasts and strengths, and character amidst stress.




Beautiful blessings pop out everywhere when I take a moment look around. What blessings and memories has he brought to you?

Saturday, August 24, 2013

Summer Sun 2013

Summer has flown by. And according to my online persona of facebook or this blog, my summer has been quite monotonous, with little happening. Thankfully, my lack of online presence indicates that reality is very much full and changing. Here are highlights that stand out to me.

  • I fully commit to camping with a hammock. My family camped for 3 nights on a small, sparsely inhabited island in the Exuma Cays. From spearing our dinner 1/2 hour before cooking it, snorkeling in a land and sea park, and locating old natural cisterns, the best part was climbing a tree, wiggling into a hammock, and being gently rocked to sleep without any tree roots, stones, or crabs burrowing underneath!
    One to sit during day, One to sleep in at night
    Exuma Land and Sea Park
    Dinner -at least for some night in the future


  • I do believe in sea-horses! I DO believe in sea-horses! I do, I Do, I DO! Though growing up on an island and knowing many of the natural attractions, we had missed this one. An old friend directed us to a specific pond that was home to seahorses and octopus. The feeling of dry yet sticky, smooth, yet strong skin of octopus on my hands and arms will not be forgotten quickly. Neither the sight of an itty-bitty 2 inch sea-horse, holding onto seaweed with its tail on the pond floor, blending in perfectly with the surroundings. What a gift to behold God's wonderfully and quirkily created animals. Added bonuses: watching pea-sized lizard eggs hatch and a Cicada bug molt!


    Hatched lizards with eggs in a quart-sized ziplock
    Cicada
    Cicada bug molting


  • I am a student of Trinity  Evangelical Seminary, as I begin the road to licensure as a counselor. I dream of working among children and young adults who have faced or are facing multiple transitions in their lives, specifically cultural moves between cities, regions, and countries. Lord willing, my classroom studies will be done in 2-3 years, and after internships and enough hours of experience, I will be a licensed counselor. 
  • I continue to be a Starbucks barista several days a week, and have taken a second job at Lawry's The Prime Rib as a host and server. God, my Provider carefully weaved this position/schedule, and has grown my faith in many ways as He has smoothed over detail after detail in multiple areas. 

If God provides for 2 feet long Iguanas, only found on 2 tiny islands,
Then I and the world, have nothing to fear.

Perfect Love Casts Out Fear

Tuesday, May 21, 2013

Multi-cultural Experiences

Cultures.
Multi-cultural experiences.

Ethnicities.
Multi-ethnic experiences.

I was recently asked to list all my multi-cultural and multi-ethnic experiences for a scholarship application. Simply list the experiences. I laughed.

I started, and it took a while. A long while. With only bullet-points and sub-points, I had over 500+ words to cut down to less than 200. How do you decide what parts are "more" multi-cultural than others?

The "multi-cultural and multi-ethnic" experiences "only" comprised my entire life story. Cultural and ethnic experiences happen everywhere, across the globe, within the United States, and even inside one specific city. When I moved to and from Eleuthera. When I moved to rural Nebraska. When I moved to China. When I worked in a nursing home. When I worked in downtown Chicago. When living with mono-culturals. Each place I lived and worked glowed with different races and ethnicities, cultures and mindsets, thinking patterns and actions I didn't know.

There are some things I need to say.
  1. Life is multi-cultural. Each place has a different culture, therefore everything is a multi-cultural experience. Seek with understanding.
  2. Life is multi-racial. It is. Look at the globe, and what people look like. Black, Hispanic, White, Asian. See with understanding.
  3. Life is multi-ethnic. Every person I have ever talked to comes from a special ethnicity. Colors are great... but there's different ethnicities within colors. Bahamians and Jamaicans, Puerto Ricans and Mexicans, Germans and  Scandinavians, Chinese and Filipinos. Enjoy with understanding.
What is multi-cultural in your life? How has it influenced you? 


Culture Clash: Rabbit, in the city, sleeping by a window with people.
Mixes

Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Good Gifts

God is a good Father. Not only does He support and be with a person through hard times, but He will, what seems like random, give fun gifts!

I had one of those random blessings just fall into my lap. I work at Starbucks, talk to customers and know many of them beyond "Hi. Here's your triple, half-caf, grande, 2.5 pump vanilla, 3 pump chai, nonfat, extra hot, no foam, vanilla latte." (for the record, that order is fake, but they do get ridiculous sometimes.) When you think about it, 30 second conversations can't get very far, even if they happen nearly 5 times a week, in the same context.

But then there are exceptions.

Two weeks ago, I started French 101. :D Yikes! Understanding the gist of conversations and speaking are two VERY different things! It all makes sense, it just takes time and effort to practice to make it flow fluidly.

A reason to learn
Back to Starbucks. Lo and Behold, one of my customers found out, and offered to meet with me on her own time -a native French speaker and teacher herself! She did not have to do that, yet here she is, teaching and helping her barista study French! :)

Wow God! :D (or should I say "Merci Beaucoup, Monsieur!")

And here I adjourn to study the depths of "etre" and "avoir" verbs...