To the Girl in the Changing Room

Yesterday I went to one of my least favorite places: the mall. My shopping strategy tends to be grabbing anything/everything that is on sale and looks cute on the hanger. I go into the changing room with dozens of items, knowing that after I try everything on, I'll probably come out with 2-3 things that I am actually ok with wearing.

The first item I tried on was a darling, girly-pink, cable knit sweater that was layered over a white button up. It was my favorite items of the ones I picked, so I was especially disappointed when I took my first look in the mirror. I liked the color, it was comfortable, but it cut right above the jean line, which created a noticeable bulge in the white undershirt as it sat over the roundest part of my belly.

I wondered out of the changing room to ask my husband for his opinion and he praised me saying I looked beautiful. I shrugged, and commented that I liked it but worried that it accentuated my belly fat. He looked at me with a raised eyebrow, said he didn't know what I was talking about, and I assumed he was just trying to make me feel better.

Soon after, I heard this young girl in the changing room say "Look mom, she has the same shirt, and it looks great on you both."

The mom and I joked about what great taste we must both have, and then she told me that she liked the shirt, but she was worried because of where it cut her in her midsection, and then told me that after 3 babies/2 c-sections, she needed to be cautious of what sorts of clothes she wore.

We bonded as we laughed over having the same concern, and discussing the difficulties of finding clothes these days that hid all of the unwanted pounds that life had given us.

Something happened in that moment, as we were harshly judging our physiques, and I remembered that her young (probably 14-15yr/old) daughter was sitting right next to us listening to this conversation. This young girl was listening to our criticism and learning that as soon as she becomes a woman and loses her slender stick frame, she will need to hate herself. She was learning from her mother that motherhood is something to be ashamed of, and learning from me to ignore her husbands praise. She was learning self-loathing, and discontentment. Here we were, two grown women, completely neglecting this young girl and missing an opportunity to speak truth to her. Why do women do this? 

Girls' inner critics are starting to reveal themselves at a younger and younger age. And body image issues are an aspect of their lives which is causing them low self esteem and day-to-day suffering. Elizabeth Berkley

Like my husband, this young girl had been trying to convince her mom that she looked great and should buy the sweater for a good 20 minutes prior to us having this conversation.

I told the mom that she was beautiful, and that the sweater complemented her figure and she looked great. I think I was also telling myself. I told her that it was probably the angle we were looking at it, and that it was actually a fine sweater. And truthfully, even though I still felt self-conscious about the fit, it looked great on this woman- like it was designed for her. 

I do think moms should be given a break, all across the board. And I think that the most important thing is that you're healthy. After I had my little girl, I wanted to be healthy for her and have a healthy body image so that she hopefully grows up to see that her self worth isn't defined by how thin she is. Busy Phillips

We continued chatting as we tried on clothes, then parted ways and wished each other well. Neither of us bought the sweater.

On our drive home, I couldn't shake the feeling that I had failed as a woman. I had criticized my frame because it didn't look like the mannequin, and I had set a horrible example for this young girl. I wish I could take that conversation back.

If I could go back, I would tell that young girl that even though age sometimes requires a bit more strategy in shopping, it's ok. I'd give her a brief history lesson of how beauty standards have changed throughout the years, and that in another time we may have been judging ourselves for being too thin and tan. There is no true standard for beauty, but  media can segment certain looks, and right now that look is tall and thin. This is one facet of appearance, but not the standard to which every single woman must obtain. Most actors spend hours in the gym as a requirement for their roles. I don't have hours in the gym. I wake up early and get home late so that I can commute into the city and work really hard, and challenge my brain to think up amazing thoughts, and become a woman of influence in a predominately male corporate setting.

I'd tell her that childbirth is a blessing and that many women wish they could have the scars of childbirth, because they will never know that joy. I'd want her to know that while this world does require us to look a certain way (presentable), that is not our identity, and it is unnecessary for us as women to add additional, unattainable requirements. That real beauty comes from confidence, kindness, compassion, intelligence, etc and that clothes/makeup are just the finishing touches. 

You see a model walk down the street and she looks like a regular girl. For me just to look "natural" in a photo takes two hours of hair and makeup, good lighting, styling and Photoshop - and six hours later you have the picture. But when I go home, it's just me with no makeup, pimples, and a pair of baggy pants. That's life - the rest is fantasy. We all need to remember that a photo is just what beauty was to one photographer on one day. You can't compare yourself to those pictures. You are real. Photos are two-dimensional. Beauty is three-dimensional. Your confidence, your personality, your presence - it all adds to what makes you beautiful. Coco Rocha

Women, we need to be more encouraging to one another, and it starts with supporting ourselves. Have we become so wrapped up in our ridiculous selfie-driven narcissistic society that we think this is reality? We have momentarily forgotten our identities, and we need to remember them so that we can help the next generation keep theirs. Women are more than sex appeal. Women by design are beautiful. We can also be smart, funny, kind, influential, philanthropic, imaginative…. with a countless list of adjectives, why do we think body shape is the only one that matters?

Sometimes clothes fit, and sometimes they don't. Maybe that particular clothing item wasn't designed for someone with our frame. That doesn't mean that our frame is to blame. Instead of embarking on diatribe of self-hate, let's work on shrugging it off and grabbing another sweater.

To the girl in the changing room, you are beautiful. Your mom is beautiful. And I'm deeply sorry for setting such a poor example for you. I hope that every shopping trip in your future is made up of fun and laughter, and that you have someone who can watch you try on clothes and remind you that you are beautiful. 

How Do You Clean?

The way I see it, there are four types of cleaners in this world. And they are all friends.

1. The Monicas'. They clean everything, inside and out, spic and span. They are thorough to a fault, and often cause stress for themselves and others by being a perfectionist. You can eat off the floor- but don't, because that's gross. Monicas' thrive on the marriage of cleanliness and organization.





2. The Joeys'. They don't care what goes where. Clean? Bleh. Throw some spaghetti on the floor. Fughettabout it! Embrace the mess, and embrace life. Joeys' care more about having fun, and being with friends than what the hangout space looks like. Cleanliness is just not on the priority list. How YOU doin??

3. The Rachels'. They "clean." Come on now- I think we've all at least pulled a Rachel at one time or another. Who amongst us hasn't ended up with a dryer and a closet full of miscellaneous items after receiving a last minute "I'm on my way over" call. To the naked eye, everything looks clean. And that's what really matters.  To Rachels', the appearance is more important than the reality.

4. The Rosss'. Clean like a Dr. Sure, your method may be slightly more boring and take longer, but don't you want to have scientific evidence to back your cleaning decisions?  Rosss' don't clean as frequently, because when they do, it's quite thorough and involves hours of rethinking organization and pondering the meaning of life while reminiscing about when/where/who from who they received all of the stuff that they are cleaning.


Most of us can easily identify with the type of cleaner that we are (I myself tend to be a Ross, who was raised by a Rachel, and is marrying a lower key version of Monica). What is interesting to me, is that we tend to "clean" our lives the same way we clean our homes. Think about how you address sin or hangups in your life. Do you stress about every little thing, ever the perfectionist, and hold an unfair standard over others? Do you embrace your issues, eat, drink and be merry, and choose to ignore the issues as well as who those issues affect? Do you put on a happy face while you inwardly struggle and suppress your true emotions and behaviors, because appearance is more important than reality? Do you let all the little things pile up until you are overwhelmed with a mountains worth of life to sort through, feeling pressured to be thorough or to not do it at all, and drain yourself and others with your overthinking?

Once we understand our "cleaning" process, we can better develop a system for moving forward. It can be hard to admit that we have flaws, but admitting is the first step :) Try cleaning with a friend, or accountability partner who has a different style and can share perspective with you or encourage you. Cleaning is rarely a fun process, but sometimes a small tweak to your method can make it more enjoyable, and rewarding.

Christmas Like a Child

It's that time of year where the Christmas season sneaks up on us faster than we expected and the scent of cinnamon and Christmas trees fills the air along with a cloud of mixed emotions.  Between the excitement of the season and the stress of shopping, the joy and heartbreak of family gatherings and the ever so delicate battle of Jesus vs Santa vs "Happy Holidays", it's no wonder we're exhausted by the end of the year.  

Remember when we were little?  And Christmas was awesome?  No mix of emotions- just awesome. Sure, a slight mix between happy, blissful, ecstatic and satisfied, but that was it. Christmas was the best time of the year.

Then we got a little bit older, and Christmas was still the best time of the year, but more-so because every other less than perfect detail in life just simply didn't matter today.  Today, everyone loved each other and chatted amiably.  Today, there was only laughter and heartfelt hugs.  Today there was peace.

Then we grew up.  There's a faint taste of happiness but the season is significantly more stressful as we are now deeper into adulthood. The holiday is slightly more expensive, and there's a certain level of pressure as to whose house will be the house of honor; who is mandatory to shop for and who would be OK with a nice Christmas card; who has to sit on the other side of the table of who to avoid any unpleasantries.

I know I can't speak for everyone- some will always have overwhelming joy and good memories with each Christmas, and that is a blessing.  But to some, this season is no longer solely joy.  This season is sprinkled with fragments of a broken family- fragments of a broken heart.

I think that that's OK.  I think it's OK to be a little sad or nostalgic for simpler times.  But we can also stay joyful, because regardless of anything in or out of our control this season, Christmas will always be wonderful.

Christmas is wonderful because this is the day that Christ our savior was born! That is truly the reason behind this season, and I can think of no better reason to relentlessly celebrate. Despite our circumstances, God loves us, so much that He sent His only Son, Jesus, to come to this earth that he might heal our broken hearts, bind our wounds, set the captives free- Jesus came to offer us a life outside of ourselves; life everlasting.

Have you heard the Christmas story?  It's incredible.  And it is personally written, with love, to you and to me. Do you remember when we remembered that, and that was all that mattered?  Here, in our broken world, a savior was born, to teach us the way to truth, love and life, and to heal us and offer the opportunity for us to be restored to be forever whole, and wholly loved for eternal life.  A savior was born not to condemn us for our mistakes or wrongdoings, and not to beat us up for our failure to be perfect, but to pick us up and dust us off, to clothe us in beautiful robes of righteousness, and to walk by our side in this life and the next.



Jesus loves us! What a merry, merry Christmas it is.

In Love

The phrase "I love you" is not one that I ever really thought about.  I say it to family before ending a phone call, I sometimes see/hear couples saying it to each other. I'd never been romantically in love before so I'd never actually said it apart from being a sign-off phrase.  

About a month ago, I finally worked up the nerve to tell my boyfriend that I loved him.  I'd been hemming and hawing over it for almost a month after he professed his unrequited love for me.  Having never been in love before, and having been slightly jaded by movies vs real relationships visual definitions of this concept, it really took a lot of thought and processing to figure out if what I was feeling was love, or if it was still infatuation.

I am now very well-versed in these three words.  Apart from sign off language, there are sometimes I just look over at my boyfriend and become overwhelmed with a feeling of appreciation of how he loves me and a compulsion to tell him that I love him. A year ago, I would be judging someone for making a statement of that caliber of cheesy, but if you've ever been in love, you know what I mean.  Sometimes you can't help it.  It just floods you and you have to do something about it.

Last week I was praying, and I told God that I loved him.  While that sounds like a standard thing to say, I realized that I did not remember the last time I told God that I loved him apart from a worship song sing-along. I could not remember the last time I looked into the eyes of my Lord and told him how madly in love I was with him.  Even though He tells me every day.

I've always understood the "God is my Father" aspect.  I fear him, try to obey him, know that he loves me and I know that he has my best interest at heart which means he sometimes has to discipline me.  I know I can go to him for advice or counsel, or to be held when I am broken.  The other aspect of God's love, the divine romance, I never really grasped before.

Being in a dating relationship has helped me draw several parallel understandings of God's love for me.  I realize that despite my doubts, insecurities, selfishness, and just plain craziness, God has never stopped pursuing me.  He loved me from Day1 and has consistently fought for my heart.  I realize He woos me with romantic gestures almost daily; he paints a sunset, or gives me a field of flowers, and whispers confident affirmation in my ear that I am wonderfully and fearfully made, that he loves me and has great plans to prosper me.  He died for me so that we could be together for eternity.

I realize now that God and I have had somewhat of a complacent marriage.  We've had our ups and downs.  We had our honey moon stage in my child hood, the "I want a divorce" stage in my teens, the "I am so completely in love with you again" stage in late high school, the "you're great- but your kids are super obnoxious" phase in college, and finally are entering the "you are truly all that I want, need, desire because I am so incredibly in love with you" phase, which I must say is my favorite yet.

Despite anything that I have ever done to wrong him, or to wrong his children, he continues to forgive me and desires to put me in his robe of righteousness.  From the very beginning when he created earth and sky and water and everything I would need to survive, to when he knit me thoughtfully in my mothers womb, through every laugh and tear and heartbreak, He has loved me.  That verse, "We love because He first loved us" finally makes sense.  Sometimes, when you realize how much you are loved, it overwhelms you to a point that you are compelled to love back.

If you are a believer- tell God you love him.  And then show him through your actions and words. End complacency in your relationship and strive for complete intimacy.

If you are not a believer- please hear me when I tell you that you are so incredibly loved by God, and he is desperate to have a relationship with you.  Take some time to explore Gods love for you, and once you begin to understand just how high and deep and long and wide his love is for you, you will have no choice but to love him back.

God's love is incomparable.  Truly, there is nothing like it, and nothing I could ever desire more.

AlkaSeltzer and Anxiety- A children's lesson

I've always heard that those who can't do, teach.  God much have heard this before too.  About three  weeks ago, I started having anxiety attacks.  The kind where you physically have to tell yourself how to breathe, or you just stop breathing.  I knew I was feeling pressure from work and family relationships, and I knew I had a lot on my mind, but there was nothing I was consciously anxious about.  I knew that there was nothing causing me stress that I had any control over, and I knew that there was nothing causing me stress that was going to end the world. I kept fairly quiet about it because I don't want to cause a scene and I hate when people think I'm not capable of something, prideful nature I suppose. I tried prayer, exercise, sleep, deep breathing- nothing would take this feeling away, and nothing helped me decipher where exactly the root of this anxiety was stemming from.

About a week in to having anxiety attacks, I got an email that I would be teaching middle school students on the topic of pressure.  Somewhat befuddled on how to teach on a topic I myself hadn't figured out the answer to, I dove into scripture and Google, trying to figure out what the root of pressure was, and how one combats internal and external forces.  

I was unexpectedly fortunate to come across multiple methods of the TV show Mythbusters that featured specific myths dealing with pressure.  One of their statements, was that when pressure is being placed on an item, the only way to counteract that pressure is to push back.  It's similar to taking an indigestion pill-  the pressure created by the pill counteracts the pressure in your body, and thus releases the inner pressure.  The other conclusion, was that pressure has to be able to go somewhere, or it will implode.  Pressure will continue to build, until it is released.  

I decided to study up on my AlkaSeltzer experiments to display to the middle school students how a little bit of pressure (1 tablet and a water bottle caps amount of water sealed in a film canister) can cause a 10ft rocket explosion.  As I tested this experiment, I began to relate to the film canister.  That was how I felt.  Like there was an expanding amount of pressure building and building and I was on the verge of explosion.  But of course, I dismissed the thought and carried on with life in my "I'm a big girl I don't need to dwell on silly life problems" kind of a way. I'm not one for crying, and I'm strong enough to take on anything that comes my way (so I tell myself). As the weeks progressed, and these thoughts were suppressed, they quickly bubbled their way to the surface and emerged in an explosion of tears and emotion late last night.  

All of a sudden,  every little thing I had been holding on to, every thought, every action, every word and life situation, came erupting out like a volcano as I sobbed through my myriad of tangled feelings.  Feelings... what are these?  Feelings are for the weak right?  Feelings are for those who aren't strong enough to woman up and deal with it.  Feelings are silly, deceptive and unnecessary.  True though that may be, they are real.  

I realized I was feeling sadness, stress, frustration, hopelessness, anger, regret, failure.  All of these emotions were bottling up inside over the course of a few years, and I had done nothing to let these feelings out.  Instead I masked them with optimism, cheerful demeanor, counted blessings, and a smile.   And I didn't even realize I was doing it.  I really thought that I wasn't bothered or affected- that I was strong enough- and God was strong enough- to keep me from having to release any sort of girly pms-y emotion.  But I forgot to fight pressure with pressure- and emotion with emotion- and I closed off all outlets.

As I prayed over what verse to share with my middle school kids, Philippians 4:6-7 kept echoing in my mind like a broken record.  "Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."

But God I'm not anxious about anything- and I am praying- why don't I have peace?  Anxiety can creep on anybody.  It's not a decision to be anxious- being anxious is different than being a worrier.  Anxiety is completely mental, and is often triggered when the mental/internal pressure you face is simply too much to handle.  So how do we combat these feelings? In every situation, we pray and petition the Lord, giving thanks for how He has blessed us, and actually manning up to ask Him for what we want.  Instead of saying "God, this situation is killing me, but I'm going to rejoice and deal with it" why not be honest and say "God, I hate this- it's killing me-  please give me the strength I need to survive and to thrive and make your presence known, or please present an opportunity to change."  And knowing that God hears our requests, and wants what's best for us, because He loves us so incredibly much, and He knows what our future holds and that it holds promise for hope and abundant living, that is where true peace from God comes.  And that peace will guard our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus from another attack. That is what I want- a peace that transcends all understanding, and my savior guarding my heart and mind, wrapping me in love and protection.

I can't say that this breakthrough instantly cured me, and I am not diminishing the merit of prescription medication, but it did give me a renewed perspective and hope for continued recovery. I learned to not just pray, but petition, and to remain confident in the promise I've been given.  In preparing a lesson for kids, I finally learned what God had been trying to tell me all along.  And just to prove that this message was for me, not a single middle school student showed up today.  Yes, my God has a sense of humor.  And He knows, the best way to learn, is sometimes to teach.

Decisions

It starts with a decision. A single choice.  One night of skipping your devotional to watch television.  One brief moment of a slipped hand in a physical romance.  A few cents fudged on an expense report. One skipped date night in a marriage. It's no big deal.  It's just one time. One moment.  One decision.

But what happens when you've made that one decision- and there were no major consequences- so you make another decision, and then another.  You skip a week of devotionals, because you're really just too tired and busy.  You start being more open to wandering hands- it's not like you're having sex or anything.  No one seemed to care that a few cents were fudged- and you're underpaid anyway- they won't miss a few dollars.  Who really needs date nights when you're married? You've talked enough.  One decision has now become a habit.

Decisions have the power to own us. They can make us into the righteous men and women we were designed to be, or make us a miserable mess.  They can take us to reach our full potential, or they can take us down a road we never imagined we'd go down.  No one lays in bed as a child and thinks, "Someday, I'm not going to follow this God that I've learned about in Sunday School."  "Someday, I'm going to give myself away before I'm married, and be a teenaged, un-wed mother.  Or have lots of one night stands."  "One day, I'm going to embezzle money from my company."  "After I get married, I'm going to stop talking to my spouse, and then divorce them."

Take it to another extreme.  No child lays in bed at night thinking "Someday, I'm going to be in a gang."  "Someday, I'm going to be a serial killer."  "Someday, I'm going to strip and sell my body for cash."  "Someday, I'm going to be an alcoholic, and get hooked on drugs."

Decisions can be dangerous.  They can also bring blessings.  Few things in life are more powerful than a single decision.  It's why so many writers in scripture caution us to take every thought captive, and meditate on God's word, and hide His promises in our hearts, and invite God to search our hearts and examine us, to strive to be set apart as a new creation, not of this world.  Any time in my life I have ever experienced regret or remorse or conviction, I can trace back to a single decision. A single decision that sent me down a slippery slope to somewhere I'd have thought I'd never be.

We were created by a perfect and Holy God.  This idea that we have that holiness or righteousness are boring, or dull, or too demanding, or not worth it, or too extreme, or no fun... we're wrong.  Yes, bad decisions can be fun or feel good in the moment.  It's nice to enjoy an evening of television, and it feels really good to touch and be touched in a more intimate way, and it can be somewhat cathartic to get that extra twenty cents.  It can feel freeing to break free of a challenging marriage. It can feel liberating to take out your inner pain physically on another individual, or to dwell on your anger towards another individual.  Or to dance and have men/women look at you with lustful desires.  But there are consequences, painful consequences, that just do not outweigh the benefits.  The cost of a bad decision, is death.

We have been redeemed from death- We have no more fear in death because we have the opportunity to accept Christ's free gift of salvation.  We can invite the Holy Spirit to come inside of us and to guide us, to advise and counsel us as we make decisions.  We have the ability to pursue righteous and holy living, and to enjoy true freedom and abundant life.  Why do we not take advantage of this incredible blessing?

My personal conviction lately, and my challenge to you- think about the decisions you're making.  Does each individual decision bring you closer or pull you farther from righteous living?  Is righteous living even something you want anymore?  Take every thought captive, and make every decision with eternity in mind.

Not Like Those Other Judgmental Churches

Have you ever noticed how many churches pride themselves on "not being like other churches"?  Those other churches that judge people who don't look/act like them.  But there's this air of judgement in their non-judgement.  I went to a church a few years ago that actually pulled someone on the stage to prove how accepting they were. He had a ratty ponytail and a leather motorcycle  jacket, with hole-y jeans.  The pastor put his arm around him and proceeded to talk about how different this man looked- how other churches might look at him and immediately judge him since he does not look like a stand-up Christian.  But not this church.  No, there was no judgement here.  They accepted this grizzly Biker, just as he was.

Does anyone else catch the irony in these situations? The churches that talk about how they love people, they don't judge people, they accept people- while at the same time calling those very people out as being a different caliber than they are?  

Call me crazy, but the church is the church, and people are people.  Being "different than those other churches" is not a badge of honor.  The church is the bride of Christ- singular.  If you're different than all the other churches, something is wrong.  As for people, I have no advice on how to get past the Christian stereotypes.  It's been drilled into our heads since birth that good Christians look/act/talk a certain way. We almost can't help but add up all the points in our head to see where people are on the spiritual spectrum.  But at the end of the day, we all just want to be loved and accepted, where we're at, as we are- and encouraged to reach our potential to be our best.  

Food for thought- It's ok to notice that people are different than us, or that churches operate differently than our own.  We don't have to pretend to be blind to differences- observation is different than judgment. But if we spend our lives comparing ourselves to others, we ourselves may never actually live.