The Trains

"I had a dream.

In my dream, I was at a train station. There were two sets of tracks, stretching away from each other until they disappeared in the distance. I was standing on a simple wooden platform beside the tracks. A throng of people were pressed together, waiting. Between the steps that led to the two trains stood a man in white with the most welcoming, joyful smile. The people pressed towards him. Some of them wept silently, tears of joy streaking down their cheeks as they reached for his hands. Some of them shrieked excitedly, and leaped to embrace him. Some of them knelt and kissed his feet. He knew the name of each one who approached him, and threw his arms around them, kissing them, and laughing uproariously. He took their right hands, and put a beautiful ring on their fingers. He gave them a dazzling white robe to wear, and sent them to board the train on his right.

But many of the others slunk by him without saying a word. They silently boarded the train to his left. They did not weep, but their faces were a mask of terrified regret and sadness as they boarded the train, and never looked back.

One man boldly approached the man in white. He crossed his arms, and demanded. "I belong on that train," and nodded toward the train on the right. The man in white looked at him, and said, "I do not know you."
The man's face got red, and he angrily thrust out his right hand, showing off a garish ring. "Look, I even have a ring. Now let me on!"

Nobody breathed. The man in white looked at him, and his face was stern. "I never knew you. Depart from me."

The man opened his mouth, and shouted, but no sound came out. His feet turned abruptly, and marched him toward the other train. He disappeared into it, mouthing angry protests.

The man in white turned back to his work, and the angry man was forgotten.

It must have been a long time, but seemed only a moment, and the tiny station was empty. I stood there alone with the man in white. He smiled at me, and nodded towards the train on his right. I followed him into the train.

There was only one car, and inside it were millions and millions of people. I could never have counted them all. They stretched on forever, and at the same time, everyone was near the front, where they could see and speak to the man in white. He sat down in the conductor's seat, and shouted out with a laugh, "All aboard!" and started the train.

As we pulled away from the station, singing, laughing, and shouting. I caught a glimpse of the other train, dark, silent and miserable, pulling away from us in the opposite direction. I looked ahead of us, and saw the tracks rising sharply, like a roller-coaster. I cried out, "Please, I'm afraid!"

The man in white turned and winked at me, "No you're not." he said.

And I wasn't."

The End

Unlike many of my short stories, this really was a dream. It was a beautiful, and somber dream. I woke up crying and really happy. So I wanted to share it.

I Like Who I Am

I do.

I am kind.

I am loving.

I am compassionate.

I cry a lot. For others and for myself.

I feel things deeply - I've always thought that my emotional scale was much wider than everybody else.

I am funny. I love humor. Not unkind, cutting humor, but wit, spark and the just plain sillies.

I smile and laugh a lot.

I have a hard time being serious, even when I ought to be. There's always a part of me that wants to giggle.

I am smart.

I work hard.

I think about things - a lot.

Sometimes, things bother me - a lot - but I keep thinking.

I don't really care about the global situation - I don't feel like I have any control over that, and I just end up worrying. But I care about my neighbor. And that lady on the street. And two kids in Africa. And my family.

I am tall.

I have blue eyes.

My nose wrinkles when I smile.

I am fat. And more days now, I'm okay with that. The people who love me, love me and my body. I could have a sculpted, thin body, but I don't want to pay the price for one. For me, it would cost my self-worth, my relationships, and my focus on who I am in Christ. So I choose to accept my body as-is.

I love food.

I have bad eating habits. I'm working on changing that. And that's good.

I am creative.

I am artistic.

I have grandios, gigantic, over-the-top, Broadway ideas.

I like to write.

I love cats.

I like to cook.

I'm generous.

I'm hospitable.

I'm not very good with money. I'm working on that too.

I play the piano very well.

I sing beautifully.

I like people.

I have a distinct sense of style.

I like my long hair.

I am not very tidy.

It's hard for me to be organized.

I procrastinate.

I love video games!

I don't like scary things.

I love reading.

I like being read to.

I don't know how to dance, but I love to do it.

Thunderstorms frighten me. Bridges frighten me. Lots of things frighten me. But I don't let that stop me.

I am brave.

I am persistent.

I fight for what is right.

I am wise.

I am learning when to keep my mouth shut, and what to say when I open it.

I like myself.

I think I'm pretty cool.

Jesus does too. In fact, He's the one that taught me that I'm pretty cool.

Because He thinks I'm to die for.

Thinking About Weddings & Marriage

I am attending a wedding today. Along with that, I've been watching David Tutera's My Fair Wedding, and it's not inaccurate to say I've been thinking a lot about weddings. For me, that also involves thinking about marriage.

Growing up, I always thought that I would be married around 22 (the same age my mom was), and be popping out babies, and supporting my husband in whatever he did.

I just want to say a quick "THANK YOU, JESUS!" for knowing my best, and not choosing to saddle some poor man with that old me, who didn't even know she could be a person in her own right, and didn't know that she had something special to contribute to the world.

As I've gotten older, and - thankfully! - wiser, my concept of marriage has changed. As I've experienced real relationships, and walked through dark times with people, my concept of relationship has changed.

I no longer see marriage as a 1950's sitcom, where I maintain a spotless house, raise two clean, perfect children, and selflessly and endlessly support my husband in whatever he does. (Don't get mad at me yet, wait for me to explain!)

I no longer view relationship as a one-sided affair of giving to others, ignoring my own needs, and always being "the strong one."

When I used to think about marriage and any other relationship, it was from a point of emotional bankruptcy, and a confused concept of who I was as a person. I was completely empty of love - I loved others, but I could not accept love from others, and frankly, I thought I was worthless.

I didn't approach the idea of "supporting my husband" from the view of "We are two strong people, partnering together to change the world," but from the view of "I have nothing to offer, except trying to make this person a little comfortable so he can do his job."

Do you see how ill that is?

Thanks to the relationships I have had in my life, my best friends, my pastor, my counselors (both professional and simply "wise elders"), I have come so, so, SO far.

When I think of marriage now, and who to marry, I am looking for someone I can partner with to change the world. I am looking for someone who complements my strengths, and vice versa. I'm not looking for a knight in shining armor to sweep me off my feet, I'm looking for another soldier in the same army, who's charging in the same direction!

I had an opportunity to get married, once. I was in a relationship with a guy, and it was not a good or healthy relationship. But how could it be? I was not a healthy person, and I had never experienced a good and healthy relationship of any kind.

I am so grateful that the good Lord in His wisdom spared me from marrying that person. (I'm sure he's grateful too!)

It broke my heart - please do not make any mistake about that. It killed me inside to break up with this person, to say, "I understand now that this is not right, and I have to choose Jesus." Right after that break up, I didn't want Jesus. I couldn't understand how He could "let this happen to me" if He loved me.

But out of that brokenness and emotional death, God brought into my life people who would live out a healthy relationship with me. People who actively loved me unconditionally, people who were determined to fill my crippled, empty soul with love, people who refused to stop showing me "You! Are! Loved!" until I listened.

God, through them, showed me that my perception of relationships was wrong. God, through them, showed me that my perceptions of myself was wrong.

I am not worthless. I am amazing, and I have so, so much to offer the world, it's staggering. There is no need for me to hide behind someone else, "supporting" them. No, I am called to be up front, with them, working together.

Relationship isn't about me being "the strong one" and not having any needs! Relationship is about growing each other toward Christ, demonstrating Christ to each other, and practicing Christ daily.

Because we are both practicing Christ, I serve their needs, and they serve mine. Sometimes, we are the Samaritan, and sometimes we're the beaten up guy in the road. Sometimes we're both at the same time! But the purpose is always Christ in me, growing in me, shining out through me, and being practiced through our relationship.

 I am so blessed to have not one, but two relationships like this. I'm not saying "We're always perfect with each other!" No. No, not at all. But we are practicing Christ. We fail, we forgive, we try again. We get angry, we work it out, we try again. We communicate, we get confused, we understand, we try again

Seeing a pattern? Practicing something doesn't mean you're already good at it. It means you're practicing to get better. Practicing means you don't give up, you don't stop, you keep trying until for one glorious moment, you get it right! And the world explodes in beauty and joy as love pours from you and into you, and all is right with the world.

Then you make a joke that's not funny, or you forget to take out the trash, and you get to try again.

THAT is what I'm looking for in a marriage partner. Someone to partner with, to practice Christ with, and someone who will always, always, try again.

A Choice and a Voice

This morning, I found myself lying in bed contemplating jumping off the high dive this year on PE fun day.

I'm sure those of you who know me are as flabbergasted as I am.

In my younger years, I climbed up to the high dive, trembling in line, at least once every year on PE fun day, only to find myself ashamedly muttering "excuse me, excuse me," and sliding down the stairs.

It was not until late high school that I finally realized I didn't have to jump off the high dive if I didn't want to.

What a wonderfully freeing thought! I didn't have to "prove" my courage to anyone, I didn't have to climb those stairs, and face that terrifying ledge if I didn't want to.

I haven't thought twice about leaping off the high dive since. Until this morning.

I had just finished Lisa Harper's book, Overextended and Loving Most of It. It ends with a scene where a dad and son both take a leap of faith off a cliff into water. She challenges us to live like that - taking chances.

That's how I found myself considering the high dive.

Obviously, I'm not saying that jumping from the high dive is going to make me "level up" in my faith, or move me closer to Jesus. But I do wonder if my new levels of freedom from anxiety and fear could handle me making that leap of faith.

Which brings me to my point: the importance of a choice and a voice.

Relationship where you do not have a choice or a voice is not relationship, it is terrorism and tyranny.

While it is not obvious in the small scale, when viewed large-scale, this is painfully apparent.

For example, if someone suddenly burst into my room with a pistol, and shouted at me to come outside, I would - rightly so - feel frightened! Why? Because I, my safety, my autonomy, and my feelings are obviously of so little value to this person. I don't matter.

When we are consistently deprived of having a choice and a voice, even if it's in small things, like what to wear, what to read, where to go, entertainment preferences, how to spend our time, the message we receive is I don't matter, and this is crippling.

If I don't matter the world is necessarily a frightening place, because nobody will look out for me, except myself. If I don't matter, I am not loved, because you can't love something that doesn't matter. If I don't matter, I have to work really hard to always be pleasing, or I'll be abandoned.

This perception of myself twisted and distorted my view of God. I believed I don't matter more than I believed God loves me. He has brought me to a new understanding of myself though, I do matter. As I replaced that internalized lie with the truth, I began to learn that I had choices in life. God didn't want me to be miserable (Yes, I honestly believed that serving God = you MUST be miserable)! I could make wise choices about serving Him that also brought me joy.

I learned that I could tell Him, "I want this, or that" without feeling guilty about voicing my desires, and knowing that my wants went into His consideration for my best.

As I learned that I matter, I also began to work through my fears and anxieties. Since I matter, other people are looking out for my best interest. Other people care about what happen to me. God cares about what happens to me. Since I'm not alone in the world, the world is not as scary.

I have a choice about what to do, what not to do. I have a choice about what to wear, and what not to wear. I have a voice in decisions about me, ranging from big life decisions to what movie we'll watch on netflix.


Which brings me back to the high dive. I might just choose to jump off it, just to see for myself how much fear has been conquered in my life.

On the other hand, I might not.

It's my choice.

Failure is a Satan Word

I had an interesting day yesterday, with quite a bit of mental strain and stress. I spent $200 on a mattress (a good deal that I think will pay off in the long run, but $200 is not a quantity of money I just spend.) In addition, the fact that my beautifully planned out budget for the month was a miserable failure increased the anxiety I felt about the mattress.

I also went to Walmart and bought some necessities, breaking the budget even MORE, and, in the process, completely spacing out, and walking away from the cashier with my cart to grab an item I had forgotten (sandpaper), and taking several minutes to figure out why my cart was empty.

I'm out of it, y'all.

This morning, I woke up feeling down, tired and depressed. I got up a touch later than usual, and went about my routine, getting tea, feeding the cats, sitting down to read my Bible ... But it all felt off and unreal. If you've ever experienced depression (which I have, and am currently experiencing), you know what I mean. "Life" is more like going through the motions as you try to work around your curled up, miserable soul.

I began prayer time reading Proverbs, and then read some Matthew, not really feeling "connected" to Jesus. Then I began to pray. Usually I sing to Him, but the song felt like sawdust and salt and stuck in my mouth. So I just started talking. I told Him how yucky I felt, and depressed, and the worst part is not knowing why. Just ... down. And as I continued to talk to Him, and ask questions I began to realize and voice: "I feel like a failure."

Failure is a Satan word. I used to own that word, and believe it about myself, and repeat it to myself, over and over. I know now, that "failure" is not me. I wrote in my journal:

"Failure is not a word that describes a child of God. With His words, He brought into being all that is or was (John 1) With His words, He has declared me beloved, (Jeremiah 31:3) [daughter] (1 John 3:1, Galations 3:26), friend (John 15:15), forgiven (Psalm 103:12), righteous (Philippians 3:9), holy (1 Corinthians 6:11),  worthy (2 Thessalonians 1:5), citizen of heaven (John 14:3), complete (Philippians 1:6), beautiful (Song of Solomon 4:7), and good (Genesis 1:31). Failure is a Satan word, and it has no part in me."

I was feeling like a failure because I had "failed" to anticipate and provide for all our financial needs with my budget. How silly!!!!! I am not God! I do not want to BE God, and I am so grateful HE is God, and not ME! I began to praise Him for providing for our needs, I asked for forgiveness for making my budget without asking for Him, and trusting in Him (Thou shalt have no other gods before Me ... This is includes budgets) to provide. The Bible says over and over, God will provide for my needs. God will provide for my needs. Nothing is too difficult for God. If my earthly Papa knows how to give good gifts (and he does), how much more my all-powerful, all-knowing, all-loving Papa knows how to give GOOD gifts!

As I continued to praise God for providing, and for His forgiveness (and forgiving myself, and since I was on a roll, I forgave some people in my past who had hurt me - feel the chains fall off, people! Oh, God is good!) my spirits lifted. I could sing, and laugh and I remembered who I am! I am God's beloved, and precious treasure, and I am so super cool and awesome that God delights in me, and takes joy in me, and He loves me SO MUCH, that He sent His only son to die on a cross so that I would not die, but have everlasting life! Oh! God is good! All the time! All the time, GOD! IS! GOOD!

I share this, as intensely personal as it is, because I want to remind you, failure is a Satan word. It has no part in your life. The next time he comes to whisper that word in your ear, be like Edna Mode from the Incredibles movie:

Upon Silver Hair

I've accepted, made peace, and even decided to enjoy "getting older," and I've discovered that contrary to popular media, ageing isn't all that bad. While it's weird to think of myself as thirty, an age portrayed as the last gasp of breath before the grave, I don't feel very different.

I've accepted that my age has nothing to do with what I can accomplish.

I'm rejoicing in the wisdom that has come with my years of experience.

I've rejected the social expectations and stigma on persons of my size, personality, preferences, and enjoy loving myself as I am. (Because, let's face it, I'm pretty cool.)

While I'm disappointed that my life doesn't look like I thought it would when I was thirty (no blonde children running around a well-kept house and lawn with a handsome husband in the background), I would not trade what I do have; dear, tried-and-true friends, three kitties, mission trips, students that adore me, time for art and reading, baking and gaming, for any bobble-headed, soap-bubble dreams from my sixteen-year-old self, bless her heart.

However, despite my obvious well-adjusted attitude toward ageing (such a word in our culture!), I simply cannot seem to cope with one aspect:

My silver hairs.

Aside from the first one, which my friend Caleb noticed first, plucked out, and shoved under my nose saying, "Look at that!" (thank you), no one except myself and my hair stylist (i.e. cutter of hairs) has noticed them.

This is understandable, as there are only a few of them (6 or 10), and they all grow together in one streak on the right side of my head. Usually, they're covered over by the rest of my hair, but every once in awhile, they decide to gleam in the bathroom mirror, and remind me of their existence.

And it bothers me. Every time.

I can't seem to reconcile myself to these few silver hairs sprouting from my head - gratefully, they ARE silver, instead of gray or white, so I can make some pretense at pretending they are "cool," or possibly the early sign of a comic-book, super-power mutation.

This morning I woke up, and somehow they had conspired with the rest of my head to part my hair while I slept so it centered around them, and they stared back at me from the mirror like an unwanted halo.

I'm not certain why they are so hard for me to accept. Perhaps because every woman I know (my mother and paternal grandmother excepted) dyes their hair. Even men no longer allow their heads to grow hoary with age.

Perhaps because gray hairs are one of the few typical evidences that I'm ageing. I'm blessed with young-looking genes on my father's side (my great-grandfather actually convinced his wife he was 10 years younger than he was. She did not discover his duplicity until his death). While I'm no longer mistaken as a high school student, most people still ask me how college is going, even though I graduated in 2006!

Actually, this can be rather frustrating, as people can find it difficult to take me seriously since I must be so much younger than them. Ironically, I am now nearly in the same age bracket as many of the parents I work with.

I think I will stop cringing when I see those silver hairs. Instead, I will welcome them as a sign of my adulthood, maturity and wisdom. I've worked hard for this age, and I like myself. I will allow that silver streak to remind me of all the struggles I've been through to get where I am.

They're not a sign of ageing. No.

They are, indeed, a badge of honor. Silver threads that lead from my past, and promise victories for the future!

A Guide (that was supposed to be quick, but isn't) to Eating Better

So, for the past few years, I've been poking around and learning about nutrition. Not at the speed of light or anything, just ... here and there.

The biggest thing I've learned: EVERYBODY DISAGREES.

No matter what research you read, you will find someone else who has done research that differs, or even contradicts, what you just read.

This is frustrating and confusing.

However, I have grasped enough to form my own, and I hope, informed opinions.

My Shani has recently expressed she just doesn't know about nutrition, and as I see the multiple posts on Pinterest about "healthy" recipes, I have reached the conclusion that Shani is by no means alone.

On the other hand, she also said she doesn't want to make food complicated, and considering the amount of confusing, complicated information (as well as experimentation with my own body) that I've waded through, I don't blame her.

So, I'm putting together this quick guide to eating better. Not best, not perfectly, not "healthily," but better.

Not that it's difficult to find an improvement to the typical American diet.

1. Know that you are going to be swimming counter-culture against a really strong current.
The American diet is based on profit and convenience. Food manufacturers are all about increasing their profit margin (frequently backed by government grants), and our culture of over-busyness and over-commitment means all those packaged "foods" are the only thing we can fit into our schedule. If you want to eat better, know that you will need to make time and space for it, and you will be the weird one among your friends.

2. Focus on REAL versus FAKE. 
Our super-processed convenience meals that can be ready in "five minutes or less!" are made up of more chemicals, preservatives and dyes than actual food. If you want to scare yourself, read the ingredients on the backs of some of that stuff. I don't even know what some of that stuff IS, but food, it ain't!
Actually, the more you process food (grind, cut, bake, boil, mix, etc) the more nutrients are released from the food. So when you're buying bread, or pasta, or microwave dinners, which have been processed, dyed and preserved to fit in that little box, you're not getting the nutrition in the grains, meat, vegetables or fruits that originally made that meal - although you WILL be getting all those delicious "extra" chemicals to make sure the "food" doesn't perish.

So, when at all possible, make your own food. OR, choose foods that only have ingredients you can recognize.

And btw, High Fructose Corn Syrup is NOT an ingredient. (More on that later).

3. Focus on FULL versus EMPTY.
Something that really impacted me in all my nutrition research was a comment I heard in a documentary that went SOMETHING like this, "We're overfed on calories, but starving to death nutritionally!"
A lot of the food we eat is super-full in calories (like one of those huge, delicious Costco muffins - enough calories to equal a meal!), but not at all full of nutrition. Calories are used for energy, but nutrients are used for everything else. So if you're starved of nutrients, you're going to feel hungry, even if you've already eaten twice as many calories than you need!

Focus on eating foods that meet your nutritional needs and are low in calories, instead of "empty" foods that are high in calories.

4. Where to get all those nutrients.
Basically the only nutrient Americans think of is protein. We LOVE protein, and tend to think all our nutritional needs come back MORE PROTEIN.

Actually, what we need are VEGETABLES.

Vegetables are nutritionally dense, while simultaneously being low in calories - how awesome is that? And we need a LOT of them, and we need a VARIETY of them. About half of the food you eat should be vegetables: kale, spinach, cucumbers, squash, zucchini, broccoli, peppers, onions, garlic, carrots, celery, etc. (BTW - potatoes & corn aren't actually veggies. Potatoes are a root - although sweet potatoes are nutritionally dense - and corn is a grain. Also, iceberg lettuce is basically useless, nutritionally speaking.)

Veggies. Eat them.

Since vegetables are about half your diet now, that leaves four "categories" of foods: grains, legumes (beans), fruits and meats.

Depending on who you talk to and what research you choose to believe, each of these food groups can be "bad" for you. I won't bore you with the details, because this is about eating better, not perfectly, and if you're eating real food that's nutritionally dense, you're already doing AWESOME.

(Feel free to read the research - there's TOO much!!!! - and draw your own conclusions).

Anyway, if you divide up the last 50% of your nutritional intake up equally between these food groups, you should be doing well. Here's what these things do for you:

Fruits: SO MANY NUTRIENTS!!! WHOO HOO!!!! THEY ARE DELICIOUS FOR YOUR BODY! YOUR BODY WILL DO A DANCE OF GRATEFULNESS! Also, they are packed with carbohydrates, and good sugars, so they're an excellent source of quick energy. (Warning: fruit juices can be absorbed too quickly into the blood stream, leading to a sugar high, so those are best taken in VERY small amounts).
Grains: Fiber! Carbohydrates! Roughage! Minerals! B vitamins! (Although you'll get lots of fiber, roughage, minerals and vitamins from your veggies, so y'know.) A big problem with grains is that they come to us so over-processed, that we try to stick the nutrients BACK in them by "enriching" them. This chemistry process done to my food frightens me. Also, many grains are genetically modified to produce more grain per stalk of wheat/corn, etc, and we're discovering that messing with food genetics might not have been the best idea ...
Meats/Dairy: Protein, obviously, America's favorite nutrient, minerals and some vitamins that humans can have a hard time getting from veggies. The downside to meats is they are high in fat and calories, so we actually need far less in our servings than we usually eat. Also, the meats typically served to us are low quality, and prepared in ways that are NOT good for our bodies. (Please, don't eat hot dogs or fast-food meats. Just say no.)
Legumes/Nuts: Fiber! Carbohydrates! Minerals! Vitamins! Protein! Good fats! (From the nuts) Gas! One of the protests about legumes is they can be hard to digest, although your body can sometimes adjust. Although, if you choose to go without meat, you'll need these plant-foods for the protein in your diet.

5. Things to Avoid Like the Plague.
High Fructose Corn Syrup. It's in nearly everything as a sweetener, and is basically food-heroine. Seriously, a slow, liquid death.
Aspartame and other sugar "substitutes." Cancer in a powdery form. You THOUGHT all those diet drinks were good for you, but they're actually killing you slowly, and, btw, making you crave MORE sweets. In my opinion, if you have to choose between regular soda and diet, choose regular. (Even though that has high fructose corn syrup. Although sometimes you can find imported sodas that have actual SUGAR, and that is AWESOME.)
Food dyes & preservatives. Please don't let your body become a chemical dumping ground for the food industry's profit margin.
White breads/processed white flour. This form of wheat has been SO processed and ground up, all that's left of it is the carbohydrate, which immediately turns to sugar and hits our bloodstream. This is why it tastes good, leads to a sugar high, but shortly after you will have a headache (sugar crash) and will be hungry again (no nutrients).

All righty! That quick guide turned into a long guide, and I'm sorry! But I hope this helps those of you who want to eat better, but not obsess over fooooooood!!!!!

Also, I'm sure there are disagreements with what I've put, as I've said, there are contradictions EVERYWHERE in nutritional research. So, instead of shouting at me that I'm wrong, feel free to gently and humbly share the research & experiences that led you to YOUR beliefs about nutrition!