Faces of Stone

Have you ever really looked at old people? Like a lot of them? I grew up in Armenian church, so I became an expert in interpreting old people. The human form and it's aging is fascinating to me. Recently, I've become more in touch with the idea of my own mortality. We get old. At 25, my body is starting to change and each day I look more and more like my mother, which isn't a bad thing at all, but it is different. While I know, I hope, I have a long way to go, it's made me think about how people choose to cope with the process of aging.

As a young girl, I studied the faces and personalities of the old people around me. Partly out of fear and the rest out of a morbid curiosity. I mean, they were EVERYWHERE. Some old people are really scary. They hate kids and their faces all look like that guy on the bitter beer face commercials.

Then there are some who make you feel warm and safe just looking into their eyes. There is a peace and comfort in some and with others a bitterness and sharpness. As I studied, I developed a theory. I came to realize that as we age the soul of a person gets closer to the surface. You can read it in the lines of their face. Those who age gracefully and those who don't. There are those with laugh lines, and others that seem to have faces of stone and as life has caused their souls to grow bitter and their hearts cold, their outside seems to more and more reflect their insides. Youth is beautiful because it's full of potential and is unmarred by the sometimes unfair, sometimes wonderful, sometimes beautiful world we live in. I've realized the older we get, the harder it is to hide behind your youth. We are forced to take responsibility for ourselves. For who we are becoming and what we have become. Youth and ignorance are a perfect excuse, but it only works for so long. At some point we have to take an active roll in who we are becoming, or we'll blink and life will have passed, and we won't be ready to face the reality in the mirror.

C.S. Lewis said, "You don't have a soul, you are a soul, you have a body." I couldn't say it better if I tried. The essence of who you are is so pure, but that's not all there is to the story. There is a myth out there. A myth that you have to just "discover" who you are. In the movie "Hitch" there is this line that I love. Hitch is telling a dweeby guy that he needs a new pair of shoes. The guy says the shoes aren't really "him." Hitch says, "You is a very fluid concept right now." Who you are is a fluid concept, it is not set in stone. As life happens it must be not only discovered, but developed. Each day, each decision I make, I shape the image of who I am (aka my soul), the life I will lead and ultimately what image my soul will have as it begins to peek through the shell it's incased in.

(and yes I WILL be wearing this when I'm 90)

I hope to be the kind of woman who's eyes tell a story of grace, of love, of peace, and of acceptance of who I am and who I'm not. I hope to age gracefully with Christ. To have my soul become more like Him, so children won't be afraid of me and so I won't resent who I become. I hope to maintain a sense of humor, to continue to take myself less seriously and choose to care about things that matter and get over things that don't. It's going to take work. It's going to take faith and it's going to take time, if I'm lucky, it'll take a life time, but it's something I'm going to start today. I'm going to start by evaluating myself honestly. By asking others to. By recognizing and accepting and changing what I need to. I'm going to start by spending more time with Christ.

What are you doing to develop your soul?

My Holiday Theory of Hope

Hey Blog friends.

It's been awhile. Hope the holidays have been treating you well. I had a unique experience this holiday season that I wanted to share with you.

I've been pretty "mum" on the subject of my guy and that's intentional for a couple reasons. It's also the reason that it's been a little quiet on the blog front for awhile. A lot of what I'm currently learning centers around him and us. It's just the nature of this dating beast and I'm either way too respectful of him or way to selfish to share that just yet. However, I will share this with you.

Leading up to Christmas we often said to each other, "It just doesn't feel like Christmas."

I heard many of my friends of a similar age and season of life saying the same things and I started to wonder, why are we all not "feeling" Christmas this year?

Christmas for me, is usually a mix of sentimentality, reflection, family, and a sense of wishing and even missing the past. Missing the Christmas's and special times with family. The fuzzy memories of precious time wrapped in magic and wonder and probably lacking even a splash of reality. The same components are still there. My family, the sights, sounds, tastes, and excitement, but nothing is quite like the hope for and anticipation of Christmas as a child. Teenage Christmas's just weren't childhood Christmas's filled with wonder, excitement and magic. Teenage Christmas's were melancholy looks at what Christmas had been, at least for me. So, the ones after that were really less about experiencing this holiday and more about reflecting on the ones I'd had.

But something changed this year. This year I wanted to be in the "present" and I'm not talking about gifts. Was it because of the "him" in my life? Maybe, that was probably at least part of it. Was it because I'm finally letting go of some past seasons that were painful? That may be part of it too. I think I finally accepted this year that the best moments of my life haven't happened yet. Each Christmas will be different like each year. Each will have it's ups and downs and hopefully each will have it's lessons learned. That's the beauty of this ride.

All I know is there is something beautiful and hopeful about being able to live in and appreciate the moment we're in. I love sentimentality, history and looking back, but this holiday served as a good reminder for me, that for as much as we look back we also have to keep up, to move forward, to move on in some cases, and to pursue what we're in. To embrace and enjoy where we are at.

This year will not be what was.

Depending on the year you had that statement can carry a lot of different emotions. For my friend who got married this year, that statement was a little sad. It's no longer their first year. Though that's exciting, it's a little bittersweet. For those who 2009 held immense pain and challenges, 2010 will not be what was. It will be what it will be. Instead of attempting to hold onto the past and failing, or fumbling at trying to figure out the future. Do today. Each day this year.

My resolution. To experience this year fully. To learn a lot. To live(fully) a whole year.

Skin Deep

I've always felt like there was a bit of a dichotomy in me. A side of me that loves this blog and what it represents, my adventures and meager attempts to explore the things I don't understand. Then there's this other side of me that loves expression in a different sense.

So I started a new pet project. A blog called Skin Deep. After a significant amount of "wardrobe consulting" for friends and frequent questions about what I'm wearing and where I got it from, I've decided to share my faves, inspirations, guilty pleasures, obsessions, and secrets with as many of you as will listen. Follow me. Experiment. explore. comment and enjoy!

Cambria June

If I had a fishing supply store I'd call it "Keeping it Reel"

I'm continually surprised by the volume of women I encounter who are still enslaved. I'm not talking about women who are enslaved to obvious sin. I encounter them frequently as well and I am among them sometimes, regularly if I'm real honest. What I am surprised to encounter are women who are enslaved to their own image. Obsessed with trying to be the "perfect Christian girl." An oxy moron in and of itself.

For generations "The Church" (not one specific), our culture, and societal pressures have told women to conceal their true emotions. We're all supposed to be little June Cleavers. Little Pearl wearing, pie baking, husband loving, kid driving, June Cleavers. There is nothing wrong with being those things, in fact, a lot of them appeal to me, I love pearls, but the idea that a woman can be perfectly all those things, all the time is ridiculous. That's why an entire generation of women concealed their true emotions with quaaludes and martinis. Take my great grandmother for instance. She was raised to believe she wasn't a sinner (when I can tell you from first hand experience, she was). Sinners were bad people who murdered and she was a good armenian girl, not a sinner.

Things aren't exactly the same. We're not just expected to be the perfect wife anymore. We're expected to be the perfect employees, room moms, soccer moms, students, and the perfect Christian women.

We've come a ways since then, but not that far. Now it's ok for women to be sinners, but it's not ok for them to say HOW they sin. They are very generally sinners. Not that we are to boast in sin, but can we be honest about it? Can we be honest about the process God has us in? With the veil torn we come not as male or female, but one in Christ (Galations 3:28). Which means, we have the same responsibility to fervently pursue Holiness. We can't pursue what we won't allow the Spirit of God to search out in us. We can't sort out sin we aren't willing to face head on. We can't cleanse ourselves of what we aren't willing to shine light on.

It's time for women to stop monopolizing their time with how to fix the men in their lives and start admitting they have work to do on themselves.

I'm sick of seeing women obsessed with trying to pretend they are perfect. Always happy, always together, seemingly unacquainted with pain and sorrow. Unwilling to admit how hard life can be. Not in an effort to discredit God's ability to meet our needs in every circumstance, cause He surely is, but acknowledging the elephant in the room that this sanctification process is and should be hard. We are trying to overcome our very nature. At the very least, considering the pain of this world and the amount of people who have NO HOPE, NO FOOD, we should at the very least be somewhat burdened for them at times.

Paul was joyful in the Lord, but He wasn't bubbly all the time. Many of his writing is quite melancholy actually, because he was experiencing physical pain and because he was burdened for the lost that surrounded him.

Don't misunderstand me there is nothing wrong with being happy, or being joyful. It's one of the fruits of the spirit and we should be joyful. And despite what a lot of my writing sounds like sometimes, at the end of the day I am very satisfied. I think some women hide behind a false sense of joy. In doing so, they cause those who are suffering, those who are brave enough or forced to face their sin head on, to think that they could never attain that level of holiness. The truth is they can't, cause it's fake.

I aspire to be the kind of woman who is honest about her sin, but doesn't make excuses for it. Who is acquainted with pain, but maintains a peace that God is in control. Who pursues Holiness with tenacity and who allows her attitude and heart to be teachable and protest louder than her mouth. I'm going to be honest, I'm not there yet, but I see a few women that are...

Darlene Hanson, Cindy Heffner, & Wendi Mooney, just to name a few, so I know they exist.

What I'd like to see... Real women. Honest women. Authentic women. As Paul says in Second Corinthians: "Are we beginning to commend ourselves again? Or do we need, like some people, letters of recommendation to you or from you? You yourselves are our letter, written on our hearts, known and read by everybody." 2 Cor. 3: 1-3

Paul allowed those he invested in to be the testimony of the quality and depth of his walk with God.

So, ladies, let's allow those around us to be the testimony of our walks... not just our facebook posts. Let us desire to be honest with ourselves and with others about the state we are truly in, so we can experience true growth and true community together.

Energy, or Lack There Of

²⁹To this end I labor, struggling with all his energy, which so powerfully works in me.-Col. 1:29

Laboring to and for our own end is exhausting. Our energy is limited, especially when it comes to doing good. To accomplish what we were left here to accomplish. The gospel: To hope in the coming of Christ, which produces faith and love, which are abound to others that they may know Jesus is who He says He is. What a relief that it is not in my energy that these things are accomplished, or God would be quite limited to my emotions and mood. What a reminder that when I am emotionally and physically exhausted, when I'm at the end of myself, my efforts, what I'm capable of, I'm in the perfect place for Him to begin the works he always intended for me.

Why do I start to believe the lie that I can do anything good apart from Him? Probably because I can, at least for awhile. But like us, our efforts die. They only last so long. The energy to do good expires. The work that He does lasts. So often, I start to believe the lie that I don't have the time to spend with Christ, because I'm too busy doing "His" work. How He must laugh at the energy I expel to accomplish nothing. I have the ear of the creator, and yet, I ask Him not.

Friends, lets stop struggling to no avail to do what is right and seek Him today.

Dear, Sweet November

November is one of my favorite months and I'm not just saying that. It's at least top three for sure. The smells and sounds refresh me in a way my words wouldn't do justice. Where I live there are a lot of oak trees that shed their leaves this time of year. There is something captivating about the growth and changing of these trees. It mirrors for me the potential we have as human beings for growth. A challenge that is equally daunting and beautiful. Beautiful because of the opportunity for change and the possibility for each individual to overcome past wounds, present shortcomings, and avoid future pitfalls; and daunting because unlike the trees who shed their leaves without thought or effort, we must choose to shed ours.

The leaves that I grew last year, may not serve me any longer. The trees must loose their leaves to gain more. In the same way I must let go of the parts of me that served me in my youth, or may never have served me at all, to make room for the growth God has for me.It may be time to shed them and the only way I will is if I actively seek God's counsel, the counsel of trusted friends, and continue to look at myself through fresh eyes.

Can I be honest, I'm excited and terrified. Cause if I'm really being honest here, it's way easier, and more comfortable for me to just stay here. To be an evergreen. To maintain. The continual pruning and growing process is exhausting, even on it's best day, but I'm back, cause it's worth it. Cause it's better. Cause even though it's hard my Spirit can't stay put any longer.

Lord, may I be teachable this November. Humble. Open to shedding the structures and forms that may have served me in the past, but are now inhibiting the growth that You have for me. And don't let me be done, till I'm with You.

The Whole Truth

Upon further investigation, I don’t think I gave you the whole story. You see, a few months ago, everything changed and all the sudden all of my theories and all of my rationalizing couldn’t explain it away. A few months ago my Aunt & Uncle, who have courageously tried to get pregnant for sometime now miscarried their twins, Billie & Miles, at almost 6 months into her pregnancy. And just a few weeks later I watched dear friends of mine say goodbye to their little boy, Tyler James Rumley.

What was remarkable to see in Jerrod & Jen Rumley was their response. Faith and honesty in the midst of what can only be inadequately described as an utter tragedy. I tried for a few months to write something about it, something about them, but I couldn’t. I just felt like there was nothing significant to say after that. Words didn’t express enough. They couldn’t express the ache in my heart for all of them. They couldn’t express how completely pissed I was that this was happening. And they couldn’t express how helpless it is to sit by and watch such an injustice occur. And I watched them get up and give glory to God and I realized; I had no idea what faith really was.

So I got pissed. And more pissed. And months went by and I was still really pissed. Why would this happen? What possible benefit could there be to this? How would a good God ever allow this to happen? So pretty much for months, this has been internally circling around. And even a month on another continent couldn’t change it.

This week I had a tiny breakthrough. In reading a, let’s be honest, sorta boring passage in Deuteronomy, about the law, I discovered something. God is a God who loves justice. He has blessings and curses laid out for the Israelites that are so clear and quite frankly fair. That’s when I realized, God loves justice, and we’re the ones who don’t. And we can’t. Follow me here for a sec. As soon as we sinned, so long ago, we forfeited our right for justice, for a fair world. It’s the same injustice that has caused me to question the character of God by which I am saved. If not for the injustice of God these tragedies would not be allowed, but if it were not for His injustice, none of us would be saved. So we’re forced to live by faith. Trusting what we do not see played out in reality and what we aren’t able to rationalize into something positive, productive, better, or fair. We are forced to trust Him.

Honestly, I’m still pissed for them. I still don’t get it. It will still never be ok or make sense, but it isn’t ok to Him either. If I wish to remain upset I can only be upset with the sinful nature I was born into and the unfair, cruel world I must exist in, for what I’m sure I will learn someday, isn’t that long at all.

That’s the Truth. The Whole Truth. For now.