She Lets Her Hair Down

I picked up my sister from gymnastics the other day. I got there fifteen minutes early to watch her run, jump, and fly through the air. As I weaved through the gym moms to find a seat, she yelled "Sissy!" across the gymnasium. Sure enough, there she was in her leopard print leotard, waving her hands fanatically. I hadn't showered, wore no make up, and was wearing mom jeans (mom jeans: n. high, loose jeans), and yet she was willing to advertise our relationship. She loves and adores without shame or condition.

The girls had to do an exercise in 15 seconds and as hard as she tried, Mia did it in 20 and needed to do it a second time. I could tell she was holding in tears. I know how badly that competitive 10 year old wanted success, and I know how crushed she was when she didn't reach it. She puts her whole heart into everything she does, not afraid of heartache.

On the way home we chewed gum and sang our favorite songs. I knew she was in Heaven. Corinne Bailey's song "Put Your Records On" sounded from the speakers. I told her that that song reminded me of her because of when Corinne sings about having a pretty afro hair do, just like Mia's. In reality, that song reminds me of her because of the theme about letting your hair down and loving life. My sister lives her days true to who she is and without fear. She keeps no walls or masks up. Mia lives with her hair down.

I found I have a few things to learn from her.

My eyes flew open at 2:03 am this morning. I laid in the silent darkness for a good 30 minutes before going downstairs and turning on my computer. That's when I saw it, the words on the screen, "Massive mudslide between Petionville and Rou Frere, homes buried with people inside. First corpse found minutes ago."

A chill ran down my back as my heart began to weigh a thousand pounds. And I did the only thing I could do, and that's get on my knees. They could use your prayers too.

Pounding Nails

She lied. She sinned. Ultimately, she broke hearts. The pain could have been reaped for years if we had let it. I didn't think our friend ship would ever be the same. I found it essentially impossible to put trust in her words after viciously deceptive ones left that same mouth. Part of me would have rather not cared to try at all.

No matter how much I wanted to, forgiveness hardly appeared to be an option.

I was holding fast to a heart with clenched hands, suffocating it. I was what stood in its way of freedom. That breathless heart was mine. It was a captive to my fear of her lies that could resurface if I forgave her. Then I felt a whisper against my soul, what made me so much better than her? What made me the victim?

I thought of my Jesus, whom I claim to love. Putting work, chores, luxuries before Him -- at that I am an expert. I read my Bible and cross it off my to-do list like it's a burden. I find time for Him when He is always waiting expectantly for me to turn to Him, and always wanting one more sweet moment to spend with me. I wonder how many times a day I hurt His heart. I wonder how many times in my 16 years I have put pain in His eyes. I thought of all the times I had little affairs, choosing that song, task, word, or person before Him; just pounding that nail deeper into His hand.

Upon that I realized, finding forgiveness for her may not be so difficult after all.

Let Them Sing Love Songs

I was slapped across the face the other day. Not literally, but I believe the impact of a friend's words hurt more than her hand would have. Here are her painful words: "I remember when you were a poetic, romantic, love-loving girl; lately, you've been sounding like a jerky teenage boyfriend." The sad part is, I knew this was true for it was intentional. I love being a girl; but there are things that come with having two X chromosomes that I don't like. And I find most of these things are a part of relationships with the people around us.

1) I hate being vulnerable. (That "Publish Post" button is looking very daunting and orange right about now.) The possibility of heartache and break over shadows the pros that come with talking to someone deeply for me. I often find it easier to be sarcastic. I don't like trusting people. It's so bad that I yell at my iPod when male lead singers "try to serenade me" with their songs and acoustic strumming. I get discussed because I assume that I'm being lied to. (Now, I know they're not really singing to me, but just let me have this one.)

2) I detest crying. And girls do it. A lot. (No matter how many times I tell myself that I don't have hormones, they still seem to show up.) My policy? If no one saw it, it didn't happen.

3) I don't like wanting to be loved. I wish I didn't care that much. I wish I didn't worry that my feelings, with everyone I come across, would be returned to me. My "jerky boyfriend" self lets it roll off my back, telling myself that I don't care how people think of me, and I'm not romantic whatsoever.

But then the other day... I heard the most beautiful, romantic song on the radio the other day. I bought it and listened to it 2432354257925 times. And I remembered that I love love songs.

That's when I realized something I read a while ago in the book Captivating. God sends us messages about who He is through men and women (Genesis 5:1), and the message we receive through my sisters and me is quite incredible. The vulnerability, emotion, and romance that I try to suppress are all parts of who Jesus is. I thought it was all weakness, but it's a glory that reflects the heart of God. Women want to be desired because God wants to be desired! There is nothing more vulnerable and emotional and romantic than when my God left the Heavens to our broken world, let Himself be hung on a cross for all to see, and still to this day asking me to love Him on a daily basis in return. (1Tim 2:3&4)

On that note, I'm off to sing my new favorite mushy-gushy, nauseatingly romantic song. (:

The Fruits # 4: Love

This afternoon, I took some time to read through letters I wrote six years ago to my husband. A lot of things ran through me as I read those letters. Some of them were funny, didn't make sense, or were beyond cheesy. But sometimes, I would be surprised by my ten year old self. I would read something that stopped me in my tracks and I would need to take a second and re-read it. I was evidently in love with this man that I still haven't met.

Little girls imagine their husbands as one man short of Jesus. Surely he will be handsome, strong, talented, romantic, a leader, 100% dependable, funny, and the bestest best pal. We imagine him with a glow around his body, jealously fighting thousands for our affection. There is no greater dream than to find him and have him fall in love with us, and to spend our days loving him back.

I realized today that those little starry-eyed girls turn into teenage girls. And suddenly our future husbands look different. Our hormones often lead to heartache, and heartache leads to the destruction of the picture of our perfect men and that perfect love. We lose faith in the man we've been waiting for, and to some the idea of living to love him is no longer our such an ambition.

What is love? People seem to be all over the place on this. Thankfully, our Father who thinks of everything wrote the answer as clear as day saying, "This is how we know know what love is: Jesus laid down His life for us" (1 John 3:16). Basically, if you would lay down your life for someone, the odds are you love them. That should be how we determined such a thing. I'm a big believer in the saying "Love isn't a feeling, it's a choice". My professor last year tried to convince me that love wasn't real, but a blend of smells and chemical reactions. I'm no chemist, so I don't know much. But I do know that that feeling or reaction is what I like to call attraction, not love. I do know that that assumption on feelings is the reason why over half of U.S. marriages fail. I do know that I wouldn't be able to stay with a man for ever based off a happening of "chemical reactions".

For those girls wondering if love can be done, there's a second part to that verse I shared earlier, "And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters" (1John 3: 16). This is where I started to stumble. Because it's difficult. It's easy for me to say and honestly mean that I love someone, but acting like it is a challenge for me with my family and friends and fellow believers. What do we do that goes beyond what the 50% of Americans divorcees had done? We strive. We work. And we persist -- as Jesus did. We stop giving people pieces of our minds and more pieces of our hearts. We wake up every morning choosing to find ways to make each other feel loved. We have to love, it's a command -- so I vote we do it with stars in our eyes, just like when we were little girls.

“Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they know each other so well.” - Noelle, age 6

“You really shouldn’t say ‘I love you’ unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget.” - Jessica, age 8

The Fruits # 2: Joy

I was sitting in my Modern American Literature class today. I was tired, my professor was cranky, and the guy behind me had a cough. The phrase "I hate Mondays" was beginning to get a whole new meaning. That's when a girl Anna, whom I had in my speech class last semester and who I know is firm Christian, walked in and sat down. I watched her as she reached down to take her books out of her bag. Strangely, from where I was sitting it looked like she was grinning. It was annoying. It was an early, dumb Monday morning -- what did she have to smile about?

That's when God said (probably after hitting me upside the head, if He was here) "You best be workin' on your joyfulness, girl." Maybe He didn't say it just like that, but it was close. I've never been good at choosing joy. Looking beyond the circumstance isn't my forte. After that moment of deciding to work on my joyfulness though, my whole day turned around. April 5, 2011 had many things to be joyful about:

1) I'm joyful because the Lord is using me for His purposes in multiple ministries.

2) I'm joyful because even though I don't like the house that my parents just bought, it will go far beyond keeping us safe and warm.

3) I'm joyful to be able to learn to play instruments.

4) I'm joyful that God gave us His word and my ability to read it.

5) I'm joyful to have my newest favorite shirt.

6) I'm joyful to have such a beauitful church family.

7) I'm joyful to have made plans with friends next Monday.

8) I'm joyful that Jesus loves me far more that I can fathom.

9) I'm joyful that I have eternal life with Jesus and my brothers and sisters.

10) I'm joyful to serve a God whom within joy can always be found.

The Fruits: Patience

I used to avoid that part of Galations, where Paul write about the Fruits of the Spirit. Now, I love fruit -- it's my favorite food! But these fruits I hindered away from. Galations 5:22 & 23 was a no-go zone for Elisabeth.

Love. Joy. Peace. Patience. Kindness. Goodness. Faithfulness. Gentleness. Self-Control.

Sure love, joy, peace -- it all sounds nice. But I knew that I could never live out those fruits as they are meant to be lived out. It was on my birthday four months ago, however, that when needing encouragement, my Pastor lovingly reminded me of the fruits in a Facebook message. I haven't stopped thinking about the nine words since. God has relentlessly put them on my heart. So, I decided to focus on one fruit a day and work on living it out.

Naturally, I thought I would start with Love, seeing as it is the first one listed. Today, however, I was at a paint store with my mom and she asked me to put a paint sample back. As I walked to the wall covered in colored paper squares, I looked at the sample and you know what it was called? Patience. Well, God, I appreciate Your bluntness, was what I prayed right then and there. So, the King had spoken. April 3rd 2011 was a day of patience for me.

It was difficult, but the Lord always provided me with the ability to show proper patience when I called on Him. Oh boy, I failed often too. But I feel so blessed to have learned what I have learned and to have felt what I have felt. My sister decided to obnoxiously communicate with friends of mine multiple times at church today, and -- through the power of Jesus Christ alone, I assure you -- I resisted the urge to yell at her. And, what do you know, it felt really good to not be mad at her. Also today, a prayer I've been praying for months now has been answered. You know that's one of the best feelings! Waiting upon the Lord does do wonders.

Abiding in Him as filled me with so much praise. I look forward to tomorrow's fruit!