Zoom Zoom

"Mazda Miata."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Mazda Miata… probably blue."

"So, if you could have any car in the world - regardless of price - you, a self proclaimed car fanatic, would pick a blue Mazda Miata?"


Now, please don't get me wrong.  I wanted a Miata too… when I was 14 and loved N'sync {…The thing you've got to realize is what we're doin' in not a trend, we've got the gift of melody and we're bringing' it to the end…} and dressed as a Spice Girl for Halloween {Sporty, I think… which is an absolute joke}.

So, this man I was on a date with, who could not stop talking about his obsession with cars, answers my question {a desperate last attempt to find something to talk about with this guy} "If you could have any car in the world…" with the same answer as a 14 year old girl circa 1997. Super.

Our "date" was taking place at Barton Springs - usually a lovely and wonderful place of swimming and general merriment. Today, however, MiataMan had asked me to meet him at the springs on the most bleak and dreary - not to mention slightly cold - day that spring. Right about the time that he is trying to convince me his dream-car choice is a good one {epic fail} Owen Wilson hops out of the springs.

Yes. Owen Wilson. Blonde, sparkly, disheveled, wonderful Owen Wilson.

And he was walking towards me… {Well, maybe not me in particular, but he was walking up the hill and I was on that hill.} Now, even if you are not an Owen Wilson fan, I guarantee you that a star of much less caliber would have stolen what shred of attention I had left for MiataMan at this point.

"That's Owen Wilson!!!!" I say in a yelling-whisper sort of way. {I'm not good at containing my excitement in any scenario, especially when there is a celeb involved}.

"Oh. Yeah, I guess it is."

"You guess?! No. It absolutely is Owen Wilson."

At this point MiataMan is sitting on my right and Owen is quickly moving up the hill to my left. I had no intention to be rude, but I figured if MM could talk about something for a couple of hours that I obviously had no interest in or any ability to contribute to the conversation, I could look in the other direction for a few minutes… as he talked more about cars. I was also hoping he would get the hint… {that we were not destined to be together, crammed in a Miata, zoom zoom-ing through life}. MM was a little slow on the uptake of my non-verbal message as demonstrated by his next move.

"Well," I started, "This was fun. Thanks for… uh… facebook-ing me."

"So, dinner?"

"Dinner?" {But we just had nothing to talk about for 2 hours… you want to extend that?!}

"Yeah. That was my plan. Barton Springs then dinner." {Yeah, thanks for giving ME a heads up on your "plan."}

"Okay."

I surrendered after truly not being able to come up with a remotely acceptable excuse. "Washing my hair" was among the top candidates.

We went to dinner. Talked about cars. He somehow convinced me that we "just had" to go across the street to get gelato. Again, without excuse I went along with this ever-growing "plan."

When we got there he wanted to share a cup. {Share!? Share a little cup of gelato?!? You obviously don't know me… I don't ever feel the need to only eat half of my dessert.} At this point I was just ready to go and no longer cared about the impression I was making.

"I want my own. Mint Chocolate chip, please. Large."

Moral of the story: Sometimes dates are just dates. Nothing more will ever come of the time you have spent with your MiataMan. But if you play your cards right, you may just get a heaping bowl of dessert at the end of the night.

-George's Girl

Zoom Out

So often, life happens to us in minutes and hours and days.  But this whole thing is but a breath.  This day is over too soon. And this year will be over before you know it. And your life will be done before those around you feel prepared.  And He will come for us before most in this world are ready.

And this is an encouraging thing to remember.  Because here – in the trenches – we’re in the middle of this crazy story with rising tension and conflict and such. 

And it’s easy to lose sight of the bigger picture.

In the first five verses of the book of Ruth, Naomi endures a famine, leaves her friends, moves to a crazy sinful place, watches her husband die, watches her sons marry people who are historically enemies of God, stands by as her daughters-in-law are unable to bear children, and then witnesses her two boys breathe their last breaths.  And THEN the story starts.
Most of us live in the middle of these first five verses.  Life is happening to us.  And it’s real and it’s painful and tragic.  I think there’s comfort to be found in remembering that this is just five verses in a bigger story.  And the whole story of Naomi’s life is just a couple of pages in a way bigger story.
Pain is real.  And in the moment when it’s happening to you it seems insurmountable.  I’ve felt the grief of losing someone.  I’ve felt the bottomless ocean of despair.  I’ve felt the depth of panic that overtakes you in the absence of what you feel like you need the most.  And here’s the encouragement I have for you: it’s just a verse.
It may not even be a full verse.  It’s just a word.  In a verse.  In a paragraph. In a book.  In a bigger book.  In eternity.

And I know that may not seem encouraging for many of you.  It may seem sick and twisted and meaningless, but I just want you to know, it’s not.  Because in that moment there is an eternal and omnipotent God collecting your tears; there is an eternal weight of glory being worked out for you.  All the details in one minuscule moment are being threaded and ordained to knit together a story of glory and redemption.

If we don’t zoom out and let the weight of the bigness of the picture rest on us, then we might miss the greatness of our God who meets us in the tiny moments of our pain.

So zoom out.  Take some time each week to zoom out of your life story and look at the bigger picture.  That picture includes men and women who lived for hundreds of years in slavery.  It includes a girl named Ruth who lost her husband and her family and hope for a future.  It includes generations of real people dealing with real pain waiting and looking and longing for a Messiah whose name you and I know because of those who would obey the command to go to the nations and share the great news of a bigger story.

Zooming out can be terrifying.  My faith is shaky.  There’s much more unbelief than I might like lurking in my heart.  And zooming out reminds me that I’m banking on Jesus.  I’m banking on the bigger story.  I’m banking everything on my belief that this life is just a breath and that in eternity, our stretches of pain that seem to last forever will be momentary flashes of time that fuel my worship for a Creator who is trustworthy and true.

We look at the pain of Naomi, and we can scoff at her bitterness.  We have that luxury because we know the end of her story.  We know everything turns out for good.  We know that there’s this amazing conclusion to her life.  We know that she gets to be a part of something truly significant and so we shake our heads at her unbelief and think to ourselves, “If she only knew”. If she only knew the end of the story then she could get through the tragedy with hope.

Knowing the ending would change everything.  I hear single women every day say things like: ‘if I just knew for sure I would get married, then I would be okay with singleness today’.  We believe that knowing the ending would make it possible to have peace and joy today.

But here’s the deal: we DO know the ending.  and it’s a whole ‘h’ of a lot better than a mortal man down on one knee.

You may be sad tonight.  You may be afraid and insecure and alone.  You may be walking through tragedy that I can’t understand.  But let me remind you how this story ends: it ends with Jesus.  you and Jesus.  and a bunch of other people.  and worship.  and Jesus.  and faith that is by sight.  and Jesus.

I know it’s hard.  Life.  I know that some days it feels impossible.  But there is coming a day when He will come back for us.  And you’ll stand before your God and your King and your Savior and your life, and you’ll hear Him say ‘well done, my good and faithful servant. Enter into joy today’.  And that day – that seems like the end – will really be the beginning.

- Fabs

{This was too good not to share, please visit Fab's own blog, Thoughts From Fabs. Picture credit to Roddy Ritchie. -GG}

Henry... My Hairy Hunk

 The past two years of my life have been filled with daily bizarre interactions with one male in particular. His name is Henry and he is quite handsome... and defiant... and stubborn... and difficult... and horny (more on that later)... and my dog.

Henry was not my first dog. My first dog was named Atticus... yes, like Atticus Finch from To Kill a Mockingbird. Being the planner that I was {am} I had thought that I would get a precious little puppy that looked like he was wearing glasses and name him Atticus and, in a few years, when I had a handsome husband and a huge house, I would get a Golden Retriever or a Yellow Lab and name her Scout (the main character in TKM). Cute and clever, huh? 

I thought so...

Atticus, however, got very sick and went to be with the Lord on New Years Eve 2008. Holding a little puppy in my hands, while he was being put to sleep is a whole different story, and one I will share at a later date, but it ended with me puffy eyes and puppy-less.

I took this devastating moment as a sign that this was not the time in my life to get a dog... I probably should have listened to that gut instinct, but I instead listened to my mom. {Why do I do that??} My mom is a loving and gracious woman and she means the best, but she is... dramatic at times and pessimistic often. She was convinced that I needed to get past my grief by getting another dog... she saw my hesitation as a form of depression {she also sees dark nail polish as an outward sign of an internal struggle} and she would daily send me pictures of puppies.

Finally, one caught my eye and three times I drove forty-five minutes out of town to visit this little guy before I made any kind of decisions (ok... maybe I was a little afraid). He was not the runt of the litter, but he was shy... and fearful... and timid... and totally precious. I watched this pretty pup awkwardly stare at me and tilt his head and thought... ok, here we go... Henry. 

Still not quite sure where Henry came from. My love of anything British??  The irony of it being the name of a little dog and not a debonair old man?? Not quite sure, but it's held on despite my parents' attempts to change it. Six weeks into my having Henry my dad would still say, "Henry?  We're really going with Henry?"

Yes, yes we are...

And just as his name is atypical so is every other aspect of this little man.  Henry is half Maltese/half Shih Tzu so one would think that I had acquired a cute, calm and cuddly companion... right?  

WRONG...

It took Henry all of 12 hours to come out of his shell and he came out with a bang. Henry hops like a bunny. He can jump from the floor to a table top without a running start. Henry hunts. When he was still the size of my fist he would bring me insects and attempt to kill frogs. 

He has been obsessed with me, from day one... but not in a "I want to be near you - I want you to hold me" way... no. Instead Henry worships me in a "I need my space, but I better know where you are at all moments way." He physically follows me everywhere or sits and stalks me with his eyes, but, until a few weeks ago, had a no touching/slight petting policy.

When I pick him up, he will gaze into my eyes and then briefly and beautifully place one paw on my cheek, as though to say, "Look lady, I know you love me... I love you too, but put me down because I've got things to do."

I officially have the most independent dog ever... of course I do. He has even figured out how to tuck himself in at night. One night, after many minutes of staring at me on the couch and breathing heavily into my ear (he knows he gets locked up when he barks) he realized that his attempts to get me to end the evening and turn out the lights (did I mention he's high maintenance) were failing him and so, in a fit of frustration, he flew into the bedroom, and figured out how to fly -  I do mean fly - from an ottoman to my high in the sky, antique, four post bed. This has now become a nightly activity, which I must admit has allowed me to stay up later than my dog would normally have allowed. 

I mean, what is wrong with this picture??

Speaking of not allowing... Henry doesn't like when I take showers and baths. This is a bit of a problem because I do so daily, and I also treasure my hour long night time bath. This bothered Henry because he felt that there was a barrier between us. Well, when he was still a puppy, he blew past that barrier. 

Oh yes... he would daily jump into the shower and the bath with me. He is now content to sit touching the tub, but, in those moments where my dog was flying through my shower curtain or, every morning, when he pins me down and kisses me on the lips to wake me, I laugh and immediately make sure that the Lord knows that this is not what I mean when I pray for a man to passionately pursue me.

Just clarifying... this is sweet and all, but, Lord, we're not there yet... 

Speaking of passion; however, Henry has some... lots. Particularly for stuffed bunnies - light haired ones, not brunettes. I know, Freud would have a field day with this fellow. He has powered through a year and a half of supposedly having no sex drive (I paid a lot to have him neudered) to daily... sometimes twice daily... going the gamut with his big bunny. He finds gatherings... like the reception following my grandmother's funeral or the middle of one of my Bible study lessons... a perfect time to have a public display of his affection and skill. There have been nights that I have been awakened by Henry's and big bunny's love making. I have out loud said, "Lord, it's not enough that I have a lousy love life... I also have to watch my dog get it on... in my bed... really??"

Apparently...

I don't know all that the Lord is teaching me in Henry, but I do know what He's not granting me... He's not granting me a band aid... He's not granting me superficial satisfaction in having something, other than Him, fill the loneliness and the longing in my heart. 

And two years in, I appreciate that and find myself so thankful for a God who won't let me settle for a safety-blanket, but instead says... hold out... hold on... and, while we're holding, let's laugh a little.

-Biblically Blonde

Ain't He?

 

I was driving down Northwest Highway in Dallas, Texas today when I passed my second Bentley on the road (again, I'm in Dallas), but there was something about this one that caught my eye... a sticker on the back window. It read these three words - "Ain't God good."

 

I couldn't help but smile and out loud respond, "Yes, yes He is."

 

If you need a reminder today - Your God is good. Your God is great. Your God is faithful.

 

So... let's do this thing called life not only like we know it, but also like we believe it.

 

-Biblically Blonde

Baby It's Cold Outside

I went to visit Chicago the boy {see previous post} this weekend and Chicago the city had different plans for my scheduled departure on Sunday. 

I was (in)conveniently there until Tuesday morning. While Chicago went off to work on Monday I did a bit of work from my Chi-town "office" {read: his dining room table}, some strolling in Lincoln Park {see: precious four armed, sticks for hair, mud slung snowman above}, and some listening to Tim Keller. 

Tim, you sir, speak to my soul. Below is a blurb and another listening post I highly recommend: 

{Sexuality and Christian Hope} - Tim Keller

"Christianity presents a revolutionary view of sex, singleness, and marriage that rejects both traditional and modern conceptions of the purpose of sex. Ultimately, our hope in our future family, future journey and certainty of our true love, Jesus Christ, shapes our attitudes towards sex, singleness, and marriage."

- GG

Will You "Go" With Me?

So, let's start with the present... because there's no better time, right?

I am currently in the throws of making plans with my 8th grade, ex-boyfriend for 4 different trips, across the country, in the next 3 months.  Did I mention that until last week I hadn't seen him in 8 years? Oh, I left that part out? Well let me back this bizarre interaction up a bit...

In middle school I fell hard for a boy. Let's call him, Chicago. We slow danced at someone's birthday party, (I was wearing my baby pink spaghetti-strap tank over a white Gap tee... who wouldn't want to dance with me?) "leaving room for Jesus" of course, and I was hooked.

That spring our moms chauffeured us around as we met up at each others middle school track meets, the movies, & copious 14-year-old events. That summer traveled to the beach, and took long "romantic" walks {read: we held hands}.

We played together, prayed together, and just generally enjoyed each others company non-stop that summer. We tearfully parted for our respective summer camps & as he puts it wrote "steamy" letters to each other... I think they probably said things like "I like you." & "I like you, too."  My birthday comes at the end of the summer and he gave me the coveted James Avery heart charm on a thin silver chain. Swoon.

A few months later, high school began and with it came all the "new experiences" {read: girls} that high school brings - by September Chicago had found someone new. 

{Side-note: this girl was a teenage Ralph Lauren model at the time. I guess I felt like if was going to loose a boy - it might as well be to a girl with her picture in Vogue... couldn't be too upset with that.}

We kept up through high school, ran in similar circles, and there were very few - if any - hard feelings.  For the most part, I thought of him fondly. Sad we broke up, but not in that bitter angry way. More in that, "Hey, I miss you, bud" vein.

Fast forward 8 years... May 2010. Facebook message: "{yada yada yada}... ran into your parents... {blerg}... hope you are well... {stretching}... is this still your phone number?"

Speechless. What the… ? How did he…? Why now?

I ignored the message. We can go into all of the analytical reasons as to why I would do that, but I think it boiled down to the fact that this was the first (and truly only) boy I had ever deeply cared about. Surely responding would do nothing but leave me a little disappointed. So I was quiet.

Until, one day about two months later I felt a nagging pull that is was time to be kind, not read more into the situation than was there, and respond.

July 2010. FB response: "Yes. that is still my number, would love to catch up."

Long story short, he called. We caught up. Made plans to visit. And are still enjoying each others company tremendously.

So, where is this going? I don't know. Chicago was and has been my "it" for approximately 12 years. The one that everyone else gets compared to. The "bar-setter" if you will. I feel like I should be nervous - every inclination in my body wants to be anxious about my lack of control in this situation. I'm sure, though, (even if I forget daily) that my God is who He says that He is.

{Then Moses said to God, "If I come to the people of Israel and say to them, 'The God of your fathers has sent me to you,' and they ask me, 'What is his name?' what shall I say to them?" God said to Moses, "I AM WHO I AM." And he said, "Say this to the people of Israel, 'I AM has sent me to you.'" God also said to Moses, "Say this to the people of Israel, 'The LORD, the God of your fathers, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob, has sent me to you.' This is my name forever, and thus I am to be remembered throughout all generations. Exodus 3:13-15}

{It is the LORD who goes before you. He will be with you; he will not leave you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed. Deuteronomy 31:5-9}

{Let your reasonableness be known to everyone. The Lord is at hand; do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:5-7}

That last passage has become my daily mantra over the past few years of my dating career - usually focusing on the last part of that passage - that I am to talk to God, tell Him what's bugging me or what feels out of control, and allow His peace to guard my heart.

But this morning I read, almost as if for the first time, "the Lord is at hand." He is at hand - he is here. He knows my tendencies of desiring control (and my fear of losing control). He knows I'm scared of getting hurt. He knows I feel like I'm within inches of the man I've wanted for the past 12 years but I feel like I'm simultaneously (cynically) waiting for the "bottom to fall out." But the Lord is at hand. All I have to do is keep talking to Him. Keep being honest with myself, with my friends, and with Him… and allow His peace to permeate every fiber of my being.

There is a commentary available online {Matthew Henry's Concise Commentary on the Bible} that has some great thoughts on this passage in particular:

"When any thing burdens our spirits, we must ease our minds by prayer; when our affairs are perplexed or distressed, we must seek direction and support. We must join thanksgiving with our prayers and supplications. We must not only seek supplies of good, but own receipts of mercy. Grateful acknowledgments of what we have argue a right disposition of mind, and are prevailing motives for further blessings. Prayer is the offering up of our desires to God, or making them known to him: Let your requests be made known to God. Not that God needs to be told either our wants or desires; for he knows them better than we can tell him: but he will know them from us, and have us show our regards and concern, express our value of the mercy and sense of our dependence on him. The effect of this will be the peace of God keeping our hearts, the peace of God, that is, the comfortable sense of our reconciliation to God and interest in his favor, and the hope of the heavenly blessedness, and enjoyment of God hereafter, which passeth all understanding, is a great good than can be sufficiently valued or duly expressed. This peace will keep our hearts and minds through Christ Jesus; it will keep us from sinning under our troubles, and from sinking under them; keep us calm and sedate, without discomposure of passion, and with inward satisfaction. 'Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on thee (Isaiah 3).'"
 
So, will we date, get engaged, and be married? Maybe. Will we break up next week? Maybe. (But I sure hope not so I can make the ski trip at the end of December…) Either way - the Lord is at hand and the question at the end of every day is: "Do I believe that the Lord is who he says that he is?" and "Do I trust that he is good to me in my singleness and in my relationships?"

Yes.

- George's Girl

Bizarre Quotes

George's Girl: "A friend just told be that I am the 'Queen of Bizarre Interactions with the opposite sex.'"
Biblically Blonde: "Honey, some crowns were just meant to be shared."


Biblically Blonde: "Why are the only words I can think of to describe him 'sweet' 'nice' & 'adorable'?"
Girl Friend: "Well, it's better than 'jerk' & 'ass' so let's start there."


GG: "Well, I am currently in the throws of making plans with my ex-boyfriend for 4 different trips, across the country, in the next 3 months."

Cloud Girl: "Oh... when did y'all date again?"

GG: "8th Grade. Normal, right?"

Bleh Dahling: "My grandmother just made this facebook comment on a photo of me from Washington & Lee prom in 2007... super."

"life is much brighter, much happier and a lot more fun just watching you with such an optimistic attitude knowing God made the world for us to see its beauty and enjoy. I am so proud of you. You are indeed an enterpreneuir{hope I spe...lled that right -having a senior moment} You aere just prcious in your photos. Dr. Kubala has a son that is a senior at cambridge. Wants to mee t you. He will be going to Harvard for his masters . He is an accomplished musician writes music but wants to teach busioness affter Harvard. His name is Benjamin. He will be in Beaumont for the Chritmas holidays. I can get his email if you would like or give him yours. The guys in your photos are very handaome. Are they in your law class? Have ou explored broadway auditions as a side career. You are a teriific dancer, choeriographer and fun actress. How was the sound of music?"

I Would Like To Make A Return.

 

With the holiday season upon us, giving and receiving is on everyone’s mind. I love giving gifts. I even love giving much more than getting.

I would love to say that that is because of my perfectly pure heart, but I really think that that is because of the people pleaser inside of me - the part of me that stresses that I am not adequately showing the giver how much I like the gift. As they stand there smiling, waiting for my response, all I can think is…   Is my smile big enough? Was I surprised enough? Do I look genuine enough? Is my voice a good level of giddy or is it too high-pitched and perky?

I’m getting nervous just thinking about it.

And this is my behavior when I really like the gift - don’t even get me started on “faking” my way through the gifts that I don’t like or don’t understand. You open up the gift and think… you’ve got to be kidding me. What is it? You thought I would like this? CLEARLY you don’t know me at all. And the fact is, they probably don’t. They probably bought a gift that they liked and assumed I would like it as well. Or they put very little thought into the gift giving process altogether. Regardless, we now have a gifts that we don’t understand or enjoy.

Until recently, that is exactly how I felt about the “gift” of singleness. Every prayer I prayed, in regards to dating and my current state, showed my disgruntled disgust with the gift that God had given me.

I appreciate the gesture, God, but, to be frank, I’m fake-smiling my way through this one.

I remember the first time I heard a woman speak on this so-called "gift" of singleness. I remember I was in middle school and my initial thoughts were… that’s BS… this poor woman is clearly in denial… and I’m really glad that this pitiful person will not be me.

Well, guess what? At twenty-eight years of age, I am single. I am not two kids into my fabulous family of four children, that I knew that God would provide. I am not dating anyone. I am not sure if I will spend the rest of my life with someone. But you know what else I am not?? I am not trying to return the gift that I have been given. I finally understand both its weight and its worth.

Why? You ask. How? You think. Because I love the giver of that gift and I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the One that I love, loves me.

I do realize that killing your own spiders, going to weddings dateless, sitting solo on Saturday nights, changing your car's tires (or calling AAA to change them), paying your bills alone, and making big decisions on your own doesn’t sound like the most prized of packages. I will grant you that this little present does comes in some pretty heavy wrapping… but I also ask that, before you cast this gift aside and think that it could not possibly be meant for you, you first dig deeper and see all that its contents hold.  Because, unlike the givers of the gifts that I was referring to above, this Giver does get you, this Giver put a lot of thought into this gift, this Giver knew that today, this gift was the best gift that He could give you.

Isaiah 30:18 states: “Yet the LORD longs to be gracious to you; He rises to show you compassion. For the LORD is a God of justice. Blessed are all who wait for him!

Yeah... yeah... yeah... there's that waiting word again. I know. But did you know that, if you were to look up the Hebrew of that verse, the words “long” and “wait” come from the same root? Well, they do. So what does that mean and what does that have to do with this lousy gift of loneliness?  Everything.

The first thing that those two words tell us is that we can’t have waiting without longing. So, my dear, if today, you find yourself, like some little girl in a Disney movie, looking out your window, wishing on a star, and missing someone you have never met, please know that I have been there and please also know that that is ok. Grace yourself in your longing. Because, see, if you weren’t longing for something or, in this case, someone, you wouldn’t be “waiting” -  you would just be passing time. Waiting only occurs when there is an object that we are longing for and that object has yet to arrive. Longing is natural, longing will happen, feelings will arise and, when they do, place them in the hands of your Father who is longing too.  And, while you’re doing that, get this: If you can’t have “waiting” without “longing” you can’t have “longing” without “waiting” so… stick with me you deep divas, when it says that our Lord “longs” to be gracious to you, what it is saying is that He so wants to give you the desires of your heart, but... He is waiting. One thing I know about our God is that everything He does is intentional. So, if He is waiting, there is a reason that He is waiting. There is purpose in the delay. Let this truth not be a discouragement to your heart, but an encouragement. When your longings and pleadings get a delay (or even a “no”) - know that there is a greater purpose.  My dear, there is, in fact, great glory at stake.

What glory? God's. What purpose? I don't know and I'm not going to embarrass myself by attempting to guess. Years down the road, we will probably... no, most definitely, be able to look back and see some of the reasons. But even then, I know we will still only be seeing the surface of the depth of God's goodness, love, and plan for our lives.

So, to take you back to this glorious gift that I now hold in my hands... I don't know why I'm single and solo at twenty-eight. I don't know. I do know, and this came as a shocker to me one day, that it might have nothing to do with me.

{Caveat: Before I explain, let me say that I don't think there is "one" person for you. But I also know that my omniscient God knows the one that I am going to end up with, assuming there is one that I will end up with, and the more I seek the Lord and the more this hypothetical man seeks the Lord, I have to believe that my omniscient and omnipotent God is doing big things in both of our lives to prepare us for the moment where He knows we, of our own free will, will choose one another. Does your head hurt? Good - moving on.}

That's why, at the best of rehearsal dinners, I get chills hearing the groom’s buddies tell of his journey and chills hearing the bride's friends tell of her journey. The overlap, the parallels, the moment the two met and the timing is finally, perfectly, "ironically" just right -  wow - amazing - awesome - inexplicable.  He is big - He is intentional - He is in everything.

So why am I talking about rehearsal dinners? Because it hit me, in my egotistical, self-centered, hard-headed brain, that I might be where God wants me to be, but this hypothetical one might not be there yet.  I hate to remind myself that this thing called our lives is, in fact, not all about us. And the God that we love and loves us, loves this hypothetical one just as much. And the good and the glory that our Lord is after is so much bigger than two people.

So, my dear, has it occurred to you that God wouldn't think twice about putting you on pause for bit so that He can work in another's life (as well as your own)?  If it hasn't, maybe it should and maybe you should get used to it. Remember, He is in the heavens  - He does what He pleases -  He's not on our timetable.

That being said, may I again remind you that what pleases Him, is to be gracious to you. He longs for it, in fact, because He loves you. He loved you first and He loves you best. He also made you and He knows that He made you with a longing. You might be longing for someone to walk alongside you through this life, trust me, I am too, but I am referring to a greater longing, to a deeper longing - a longing that only He can fill.

He is a jealous God. Not in the sense that we think of jealousy - controlling, manipulative, selfish - but in an all good, all pure sense of jealousy where He will not let anything come between a heart turned to Him and Him. This should comfort you. This should excite you.

The other night I was sitting at home, expecting the phone to ring. I had had a few dates. I had figured, given typical guy time-line, this was the night those guys would call for round two, when a song came on.  I'm not going to tell you the song. In fact, this girl who shares everything, hasn't shared this song with a soul, but a song came on and all of the sudden I saw myself at the altar... with God... and I couldn't see who was standing next to me, but I knew that it wasn't a guy whom I was expecting to call. All of the sudden I said, “God, please hold them back.  I don't want distractions - I don't need dates - I'm not looking for affirmation - I'm looking for him - I'm looking for one worthy to stand up there with the two of us - I'm looking for a man who is going to add to the love that I have for you, not take from it - I may not know him yet - hold the others back, Lord - let him, and only him, through.”

Because this gift that I never asked for, the gift that I have repeatedly whined about and the gift that I have tried many times to return, is the best gift that I have ever received. I didn't want it, but I needed it. In fact, it is all that I need.

Do you want to know one of the sweetest gifts of singleness? It’s knowing that if the Lord brings me that hypothetical one, he will be icing on a really sweet cake. Don't get me wrong, I hope Mr. Hypothetical is amazingly hot and kind and sexy and charming and dashing and bold and debonair icing. And I hope it's amazingly sweet, but he's just icing... I already have the cake. The gift is my God. The gift is knowing to my core the value of what I've got and, if I've got Him, I've got everything. He is my portion. He is the foundation for my times and my constant source of stability. He is it - He is great - He is a treasure.

Daily chase that treasure - run hard after that treasure - and if, on your chase, you suddenly discover that someone is running alongside of you, well, isn't well-timed. But, dear one, that fast runner will never top the treasure - he will never replace the gift. Don't return a treasure for rubble. Open the gift, get to know the contents, and the trust what the true Treasure has in store.

- Biblically Blonde

My Fake Pearls

This story continues to stay with me...

One day a little girl was shopping with her parents when she came across a plastic pearl necklace. She begged her father to buy them and, of course, her father, being a dad to a daughter, did.

Well, day after day, week after week, year after year, that little girl went everywhere in her pearl necklace. And every night, when her father came to tuck her in, she would say, "Daddy, aren't my pearls beautiful?" He would smile and say, "yes, my darling daughter they are and so are you."
 

But one night, a few years later, his answer changed. She said, "Daddy, aren't my pearls beautiful?" This time; however, he smiled as he responded, "Do you love me?" The little girl looked surprised, "Of course I love you, Daddy" Well then, he said, "will you give me your pearls?" The little girl clutched her pearls with a confused and hurt look on her face. "No, Daddy, not my pearls... you can have anything, but please don't take my pearls." Her father leaned forward, kissed her head and left for the night. 

This exchange; however, was repeated the next night and the night after that and the night after that. Her father would come into her room and smile and say, "Do you love me?" She would answer back, "you know I do" and then he would say, "then give me your pearls." 

The little girl offered everything - her baby dolls, her barbies, her sticker collection, her board games, her art supplies, her teddy bear, but never her pearls - every night she kept clutching her pearls.
 

Until one night, her father walked into the room and found the little girl crying. He said, "honey, are you all right?" The little girl, nose red, eyes puffy, heald up a clinched fist. Slowly, she unfolded her fingers and between sobs said, "Daddy, I love you. Here are my pearls." A huge smile immediately broke across the father's face as he knelt beside her bed and reached his hand into his pocket. Slowly, he pulled out a real strand of pearls and placed them on his daughter's kneck. He had had them all along. He just wanted her to trust him enough to take the fake strand off before he put the real strand on

I woke up this morning with this story on my mind and one question in my head. What I am holding in a clinched fist today?

It's ok to hope and to dream, but we should always do our dreaming with open hands because, whether we are eight or eighty, when we come before the Father, we will always be a naïve little girl, who could quite possibly be holding on to a fake strand of pearls.

Let us not forget that He is the one who gave them to us in the first place. Let us not forget that He loves us. Let us not forget that His plans for us are good. Let us not forget that He is a giver and not a taker. Let us not forget that He takes counterfeit treasures for the sole purpose of replacing them with items of great value and eternal glory.

Let us not live our lives clutching plastic pearls.

-Biblically Blonde 

{"Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls, who, on finding one pearl of great value, went and sold all that he had and bought it.} Matthew 13:45-46

When You Care Enough to Send the Very Best

Lately I have been toying with the idea of writing again. Writing used to occupy a significant and vital role in my life.  It allowed me a creative outlet, a way in which to express myself and to stretch my creative muscles. And along with that, it also allowed me an opportunity to process through various issues. But despite the good that writing has afforded me in the past, for the last few years I have laid it aside.

In the midst of questioning my reason for this, George's Girl approached me about her blog. She told me a little bit about it and asked if I would be willing to participate. Sure, I said. This would be the perfect opportunity to put immediate legs on my decision to begin writing again. And I would have an easy topic on which to write - singleness. I had plenty to say on singleness.

I had a day off from work, so I decide there was no time like the present. I would begin writing today. So I packed my laptop, my journal, and a book, and I headed to a coffee shop.    

I found a table and settled in, coffee in hand. Now, what to write about? Singleness... single female in the church... the church not understanding single people, especially women... perfect. Here began my single-girl-in-the-church-rant about how fellow believers don’t quite know what to do with single women. But not two paragraphs into my musings, and I was interrupted.  

“Is someone sitting here?”

I looked up to see a completely adorable boy smiling at me as he pointed to the table next to mine. Seriously?! Seriously.  

“No. I don’t think so.”  

His smile broadened as he looked down at the book sitting next to my laptop - Shop Class as Soul Craft.  

“I love that book, by the way. It’s really great.” he said almost laughingly, clearly in some disbelief that I was reading it.  

Who was this guy? I mean really - what Austin-boy wears jeans, a fleece and chacos? And who on earth has ever heard of Shop Class as Soul Craft?

Let me stop here to explain something about myself. I am that girl who’s never had a boyfriend. I’m that girl who’s never even really been asked out on a date. I’m that girl who’s always the best friend and never more than that. I am that girl who cannot see herself fulfilling any other role. Singleness, I know. Boys, I do not.

And now here I was, sitting next to this adorable, intelligent boy, who was kind of flirting with me. And what was I doing? I was writing a single-girl-in-the-church-rant about how fellow believers don’t quite know what to do with single women. Of course I was.  

Needless to say, I couldn’t concentrate. I kept thinking that at any moment he would peer over my shoulder or ask me what I was working on. And how was I supposed to explain that? So for the next hour I tried to make myself look incredibly smart and attractive as I got absolutely nothing written.  

We chatted a little more over the next hour. But no phone numbers were exchanged,  and nothing of any significance occurred. As I drove away from the coffee shop, I realized that instead of being disappointed that nothing had happened, I was actually excited. I was excited that a cute boy had shown interest in me.  

And just like that, once again, God had shown his gentle kindness to me. Instead of letting me launch headlong into my single-girl-in-the-church-rant, instead of letting me dig further and further into the hurt of being single, the Lord had gently diverted my attention. He had gently, even comically, encouraged me. It was as if He had sent a Hallmark card just for me. 

Ridiculous? Yes.  

But true. 

-Lula Mae

The Problem With Princesses

The man that I’m supposed to marry is marrying someone else… and I’m invited to the wedding.

Well... technically the whole world is invited to the wedding and technically we’ve never met, but I know we’re supposed to be together. 

I think I’ve known it all of my life, but the first time I remember really knowing our destiny was around the time of our 13^th birthdays (we’re exactly one month apart - how precious is that). There he was… on the cover of People magazine… a profile of him doing his half grin… you know that little smile that shows that he’s kind and happy, while, at the same time, maintaining a level of mystery. Just one look at his picture, and I knew - he was my prince. 

Well, technically he’s Britain’s prince and technically I’m Irish, not British, but who needs to get technical.  Love is blind - it knows no bounds… such as ocean, nationality, class, etc.

Which is why, when I was in high school and on a trip to England with my family, I “accidentally” got lost at Eaton. I knew that he would see me wandering the grounds and just know - somewhere deep in his heart - that I was his princess. Then we would hop on a white horse and head to Windsor Castle to have tea with the queen.

But I never met him, and he instead met some hussy named Kate Middleton and after eight years of dating (clearly it was not love at first sight) that woman is getting my fairytale.

Ok - so I’m talking about Prince William and ok -  we were never going to get married, but don’t think that kept me from dreaming and don’t think I’ve given up on the concept of a fairy tale.

Ahhh... fairy tales. Once upon a time… so the story goes… they all lived happily ever after.  Funny isn’t it, how clean those plot lines are? There is the setting of the scene, followed by the conflict, and then, finally, the happy ending. There is the evil queen or witch, the princess or fair maiden,  the hero, the noble friends, the comical sidekicks and, again, the happy ending. 

Let’s be honest -  we love it… we eat it up… we watch it time and time again… and we laugh… we cry and, as much as the logical parts of our brains knows that it isn’t real, I’m willing to bet, that, if we were truly honest, a part of us believes that it is or rather that it should be true. If we haven’t completely hardened our hearts, (and I pray we haven’t) somewhere, in the dead of night, we feel that we have been promised a fairytale and when that “promise” doesn’t come true or when the story of our lives is not cleanly written and tied by chirping blue birds into a pretty pink bow, we feel gypped.

So, I ask… where does this sense of betrayal come from? When did we first believe that it was Aesop who held our fates in his hand and that any story shy of a palace, a prince and a royal wedding was fit for a pauper and not a princess? When did the fairytales of earth first trump the fairytale of eternity? And, if we acknowledge that this has, in fact, occurred… what do we do with our broken hearts?

{Because, let’s all be honest… this world has broken our hearts.}

Don’t get me wrong, I clearly love a good fairytale. I may not be the most girly-girl you’ve ever met… I can’t stand the color pink and bling has never been my thing, but I do love the concept of a crown… I love the bliss of a grand ball… and I pray nightly for a prince (in the figurative, not literal sense of the word…although I wouldn’t argue with God if He made me marry a monarch). However, as I grow not only older, but also, by God’s grace, wiser, I worry about us girls… young and old… I worry that our Disney dreams have been used to define our self-appointed destinies. And I find myself wondering what is at the root of our confusion and when was the first time that we thought that our kingdom was in fact here and not in Heaven.

I grew up in the Church. Before I could speak in complete sentences, I could sing Jesus Loves Me.  I’m not kidding.  I know it’s a weird phenomenon, but I’ve always had a flair for doing things dramatically.  Point being - as far back as I can remember, I knew Jesus loved me. I knew my parents loved me. I knew people loved me. I knew that one day I would live happily ever after. After all, why not? I had no reason to believe the contrary.

  

We are taught that we are daughters of the King, right? The Lord on high -  the maker of Heaven and earth - the righteous King - loves us and claims us as His. Therefore, as daughters of the King, we are royal princesses. {Ahhhh. Deep, peaceful sigh}  I love that.  We all love that.  Who wouldn’t love that?  So we gladly, joyfully, cheerfully, put on the crown and skip and dance and sing about how much God loves us and how great and good and powerful He, who loves us, is. 

And, my dear one, He does love us. He is great. He is powerful… and, by His grace, we are His daughters, but baby girl, before you put on that crown - the crown that signals that you are His daughter - please remember the crown that was worn by His only son. The truth is that the fairy tale of our lives should come with a warning sign: {CAUTION - This crown may contain thorns}

Yet somewhere, somewhere in “feel good” theology where Jesus was always smiling and happy and God was always tender and laidback, we created this belief that, to be a child of the King - to share in His inheritance - entitled us to great things, and it does… it just entitles us to a heck of a lot of trials as well.

Now, at this point, I expect to be getting some kick-back. Why, you ask, do I expect that? Because I am the girl who would be giving kick-back. The Cinderella inside of me is right now saying, in her high pitched, chipper voice, “Oh but it’s not really that bad. Make it lighter. Make it happier. Make it… easier to stomach.” But that, dear one, is how we found ourselves in this mess and that is why we daily swing the pendulum between denial and disappointment.

If we have done any living, then most of us have found the following to be true: 

• There is not just one evil witch (ugly stepmother, wicked queen…) there are many and, more times than not, they do, at least in the short run, win. 
• There are a lot more toads than there are princes, and you may have to kiss many more toads than you were planning on kissing before a prince arrives. 
• There are also “Prince Charmings” that, once kissed, become toads. 
• There is not one conflict - there are many. 
• There is not an easy solution - more times than not the answers arrive over time. 
• There are not always comical sidekicks - sometimes, you must walk the most difficult of paths alone. 
• There is rarely an earthly hero who arrives just in time to save the day.
• There are instead: a lot of trials, a lot of confusion, many disappointments, and one guarantee… there will be more of all of those things in the future.

Many a night I have wished to be five-years-old again - to go back to a place where this world felt safe and the future seemed easy. Many a night I have wished to be part of a beautiful story.

But, my dear one, I am… you are… it’s just not as cut and dry as the control freak in us would like and it is not as predictable as a two hour feature will allow because it is not a story that even the most talented of authors could write… and it’s a story that is being written by an amazingly creative and terrifyingly sovereign God. You are the lead in a tale not about you, but about your King. You are a representative not of your position, but of your Kingdom. You have, in fact, been called to wear a crown.

In order to effectively answer this calling, the first thing, precious princess, that you and I must remember is how we got our crowns. We didn’t earn them nor do we deserve them.

They were instead graciously given to us by a loving Father who, in spite of us, loves us, believes in us, and fight for us. These crowns come with a price, but that’s true of anything with great value. The journey is a tough one - the path is a narrow one - the struggles are endless, but so is our King’s strength and so is our King’s faithfulness.

He is grooming you and me for our position.  The grooming is not an easy process, but I assure you it is for a great purpose - a purpose that will outweigh the price and the pain.

If, Lord willing, I have a daughter one day I will encourage her to dream and I will encourage her to act out the fairy tales of her heart.  I will also purchase her tiaras {I will actually purchase her multiple tiaras so that (secretly) I can wear some myself}.  However I will, at the same time, pray that I stay aware of ways to remind her that fairytales are, in fact, tales… and that, although as a child, it is good, healthy, exciting and freeing to dream, as one grows, one must learn to filter the tales from the truth.

As for me and you - I pray we will wear our crowns. I pray we will wear them confidently, boldly and proudly, but I also pray that daily, as we make the choice to put them on, we will do so aware of their cost. Your crown is not an accessory - it is a title, it is a calling, it is your destiny, it is your inheritance. The process of learning to wear it holds an eternal purpose and that purpose is a part of the perfect plan of our all loving and undeservedly gracious King.

I don't know much about what our royal coronations will look like, but I do know the One who will do the crowning... I do know our King who sits on the throne... and because I know Him, I do know that the crown that He has asked you to wear will be worth not only the wait, but also the weight.

-Biblically Blonde

His Last Name is Frickenschmidt...

One of our Pastor's last names is Frickenschmidt... and no, I'm not joking. Not to mention he has 3 precious boys who are going to eventually spread that name to 3 unsuspecting girls...

Frick (as his buddies call him) gave a sermon this past Sunday using the essay posted a few days ago titled "The Inner Ring" by C.S. Lewis. The lure of the "Inner Ring" is something that everyone should be aware of, but I think we girls should be particularly cautious. 

For some there is something seemingly exclusive about dating/not dating, being married/single - and many many girls have expressed this feeling of being "on the outside" or "excluded" when they are not in a relationship. 

So, the question is: What's the lure of the illusive "Inner Ring?" Does it exist? Once you've been admitted, does it fulfill?

Enjoy this second installment of a listening post.  And if you haven't yet, read Lewis' essay.

{Let's Pretend: The Inner Ring}

-GG

Please Don't Let It Be Him

I will never forget the moment the text came in. I was sitting in my bathtub… candles… bubbles… music in the back ground… prayer journal in hand. This is not a rare occurrence for me; this was, in fact, just a normal Tuesday night.


That’s when it happened. Just as I had begun writing down my thoughts and requests to the Lord, I heard the beep - beep. It was a text. I looked down… and there they were - the sweet words of a sweet guy checking in on my day.

But, as I stared at the text and stared at the name, I felt my anxiety begin to rise. All of a sudden, I saw my hands writing these words, “Oh, dear God, please don’t let it be Him."

I "knew" deep in my soul that this was the good and Godly man the Lord was going to make me marry, and I was destined to spend “forever” bored, trapped, and treated kindly. As I was picturing him in his pull over sweater vest and Wranglers teaching our son to ride his bike, I couldn’t breathe. Something has to be done - please, Lord, please no… please.

On about the fourth and final “please” I found myself overwhelmed by the Lords presence and overcome by my own laughter. When had my thinking gone so array?? Somewhere, somehow over the few weeks and months leading up to this moment in my life, I had forgotten who God was.

Now, let’s ignore my skewed view that this text was somehow equivalent to a proposal of marriage, and focus on the even more skewed view that the God who made the Heavens and the Earth, who parts seas and raises people from the dead - that that God’s best for me was going to, in fact, be “oh dear God, please don’t let it be him.”

So clearly I heard the Lord impress upon my heart, “My dear child, after ALL we have been through together… after everything I have saved you from and carried you through, you think the best that I can do is someone you don't even want??”

{Please keep in mind that this is a great guy. If I felt at liberty to disclose his identity, I would tell all you single girls out there to run as fast as you can towards him (so that he can, in turn, pursue you) - he’s kind - he’s gracious - he’s smart - he loves the Lord and he would love you well, but he does absolutely nothing for me. What kind of spark should be there… what “it” feels like… what we should be looking for… all of that is a whole new topic for a whole ‘nother day and, frankly, something the Lord and I are still wrestling out.}

Somewhere, in my pity-partied, pathetic, pea-sized brain, I had forgotten that, if God is worthy of my trust in one area, He is worthy of my trust in all areas. And I find myself wondering if any of you have ever forgotten that as well?

I know the Israelites did. Think back to their days in the wilderness… God had not only taken them out of slavery, but he had also been leading them through the wilderness - he had allowed a sea to part and them to safely pass - he had fed them daily with bread from the sky - he had quenched their thirst with water from rocks and yet, when they looked into the Promise Land, the land that God, pardon the pun, had “promised” them, all they saw were giants… all they saw were obstacles… all they felt was fear.

Deuteronomy 1:29-33 states, “Then I said to you, 'Do not be terrified; do not be afraid of them. The Lord your God, who is going before you, will fight for you, as he did for you in Egypt, before your very eyes, and in the desert. There you saw how the Lord your God carried you, as a father carries his son, all the way you went until you reached this place.” In spite of this, you did not trust in the Lord your God, who went ahead of you on your journey, in fire by night and in a cloud by day, to search out places for you to camp and to show you the way you should go.”

The King James Version of verse 32 is even more convicting: “Yet in this thing ye did not believe the LORD your God.” I remember hearing a lesson on that passage a few years ago and those two words, “this thing" kept ringing in my head.

If we were honest, I bet we all have “this thing” - an area of life that we have difficulty fully or even partially giving over to the Lord. It took me all of two seconds to realize that mine is my heart, especially the romantic side. I hoard it, I hold it close, I assume the worst. 

Now, some of this, like the example above is completely irrational. Some of it is not. I have been hurt. I have been wounded. I have been lied to. I have been let down. BUT not by my God.

Trust doesn’t come with an asterisk. Trust isn’t: “I trust you to do what I tell you to do.” Nor is it “I trust you as long as you don’t do this or that.” It is “I trust you. Period.”

2 Timothy 1:12 states, “Yet I am not ashamed because I know whom I have believed and am convinced He is able to guard what I have entrusted to Him until that day”

I realized that I had forgotten the God that I know. I had somehow, at some point, begun to picture God as just a big “us” - someone who was moody, flaky, and susceptible to whims. Someone who, the minute I fully gave in, and said, “ok… you can have me” would laugh, say “gotcha" - and take all my happiness away.

But God isn’t just a big “us” - He’s God. He is good to His core… He is faithful… He is true… He is altogether worthy of my trust and of yours. The more I know Him the more I love Him. The more I love Him the more I trust Him.

So I trust Him. I trust with Him the "him" and I trust Him with whether or not there will be a “him.” I don’t know who he will be or when or if he will arrive, but I do know my God and He’s never been predictable nor has He ceased to amaze me.

-Biblically Blonde