Something Beautiful

I typically refrain from making political posts because while politics is something I have very strong opinions about, I try not to engage myself in political conversations. This may or may not be wrong depending on your own opinions and views, but the fact of the matter is that I have just had one too many heated political conversations, and I am tired of people arguing with me because of my opinion.  This post while political in nature is really about something more. It is a post about respect and responsiblity. Several things have happened lately that has just caused me to believe there is something seriously lacking in the way we deal with politics.  Let me just tell you where this post is coming from. The other day I watched this video . Please go watch it before you continue reading, as it will make everything that I am talking about clearer. I was disgusted when I watched that. Is this the level we have stooped to in America? In the words of my lovely graphic designer friend

I have been thinking lately how little things really do matter in the grad scheme of things. Why? Because God deeply cares about the little things, and honestly if God, who created everything including the vast expanse of the whole universe, cares so much about little things then we probably should too.  It is humbling to me how when we are surrendered to God's will He gives us not just something adequate, but something extraordinary. Little things that are wishes, hopes and dreams almost too small to be uttered are not overlooked by God. He sees them, hears them and knows them because He sees, hears and knows us.  I sometimes think that the little things I desire are somehow too small to be of consequence in the great big plan that God has because I am a very small part of that plan. God has been using various circumstances lately to show me that He not only sees my great big desires, but also the little ones, and that those little desires are no less important to Him.  He i

I am finding it difficult to put into words what I think I am supposed to convey with this post, so please bear with me.    I have been single for nearly 25 years. I have struggled with this fact. I have cried. I have begged and pleaded with God. I have thrown my hands up in frustration. I have prayed until I have no other words to pray. I have stopped praying. I have believed in moments that I would be single forever despite God's promises to the contrary. I have spoken in bitterness and resentment. I have surrendered my desire over and over again. I have embraced the longing that accompanies unfulfilled desires. I have spoken hope and encouragement. I have accepted God's will for me for today. I have arrived at a place of peace, a place of contentment in the midst of unfulfilled desires. I have shared many things about my singleness, but I haven't ever really talked about why I am single, the story of how I arrived at this point. When people find out that I have neve

Okay, confession time. Don't judge me. I am a huge, sappy, cheesy romantic at heart. Whew! I said it. Somewhere in the middle of having a logical, economics brain, being in junior high (why do junior high students treat each other so horribly?) and one too many disappointments, I buried my sappy, cheesy romantic heart. It still pops up sometimes when I hear a great love story or listen to a great love song, but for the most part I have kept it firmly in check, "guarding my heart" because that's what we single girls are supposed to do, right? But the fact is when I just get right down to it that "guarding my heart" just became a convenient excuse to avoid potentially painful situations. It is fear of being hurt, fear of being overlooked, fear of never having anyone look at me "that way" that has kept me from embracing the romantic part of my heart. That's a problem because perfect love casts out fear ( 1 John 4:18 ). And I have perfect love

I feel certain that I have blogged about what I am about to say before, but for some reason I could not find the post. Besides, I think it probably bears repeating, so here goes.  Over and over lately I have been hearing people talk about the power that words have. This is something that I can personally attest to, being a words of affirmation person. I actually crave words. There are things that I know I am good at (like my job), yet I still desire to hear someone speak that word and say that I am good at it. My security doesn't depend on hearing someone tell me I'm good, but hearing that just brings renewed joy and life to my heart.  When I was on the beach with my lovely friend, we were talking about how we don't affirm men enough. As women we just don't realize how frequently men need to be told that they are doing a good job, that we respect and appreciate them, that we are thankful for them. We told the lifeguard at the ocean that we appreciated him and what a

I am blessed. Let me unpack all of my meaning in that statement for you. I read a lot this last week, one of the things that I love about going on vacation is lots of time to read. Diminishing my book pile is always a continual battle (I already have four or five more to replace the ones I finished. . .oops!).  Yesterday on the plane I read Let Me Be a Woman by Elisabeth Elliot. I love reading her books because the tone is just beautiful. She is straight-forward and upfront with you without being in your face. She just tells it how it is, and I always find good Biblical honesty refreshing, especially when it has to do with genders.  Men and Women. We are so different, so separate, so unique. Yet we share so many things as well. There are things that as a woman I will never understand about men. I acknowledge and accept that. I just have to let men be men without trying to change them into something else. Men are beautiful in their maleness because they reflect that part of God that

I love walking around cities. There is just something about walking a city's streets that makes me feel familiar with a place. I feel like I know the pace of the city, it's "feel", it's sights, it's smells. There is just an intimacy to it, like I know it, yada know it.  I spent a large part of my day today walking around L.A. It was glorious and sun-soaked, and a little bit cooler than it has been in the last couple of days. I visited a little shop that I had been to before, and I was sad to hear that it won't be there next time I visit.  I walked for hours, and I remembered other cities that I have walked through, each with it's unique flavor and experience. London with it's Cornish pasties, tea shoppes, pubs, and cool, rainy weather. Paris with it's gravel walks and many bridges. Wellington with it's hills, bustling financial district and ocean views. Dublin with it's colorful doors and greenness. Puebla with it's tortilla and

"By faith Abel offered to God a more acceptable sacrifice than Cain, through which he was commended as righteous, God commending him by accepting his gifts. And through his faith, though he died, he still speaks." - Hebrews 11:4 The faith of Abel was the faith to offer an acceptable sacrifice. An acceptable sacrifice. Clearly that means there can be an unacceptable sacrifice. I have a theory. Maybe it isn't so much what Abel brought, but the condition of his heart when he brought it that made his an acceptable sacrifice.  “Because this people draw near with their mouth and honor me with their lips, while their hearts are far from me" - Isaiah 29:13   It wasn't the Israelites lack of sacrifices that made God mad at them. It was their lack of acceptable sacrifices that upset Him. The were good at making sacrifices. They weren't as good at letting their hearts grow near to God and sacrificing out of that intimacy and closeness.  "For