The Importance of Listening

Because I want America to look like this.

I think it’s safe to say that we all love a good story. Whether it’s a cheesy, love story like a Nicholas Sparks book, an action adventure movie like Lord of the Rings or a funny, light-hearted TV show like New Girl. We love them. We laugh, we cry, we gasp, we sit on the edge of our seat. We become emotionally invested in them.

So why then, since I know that we all love a good story, do we completely disregard the stories of the people sitting beside us?

Because don’t real live people matter more than Ronnie Miller, Frodo Baggins and Jessica Day? It’s an easy answer on the surface… Of course real people matter more than fictional ones. But sometimes I find it kinda hard to believe. (This coming from a girl who named her puppies Luna and Pippin.)

But ponder this… how many times do we prove by our actions (or inactions) that we care more about fictional characters than actual people? We never question or second-guess the people on TV or in the books. We may disagree with something they say or do, but we usually still love them, right? And we actively want to know how they are doing and what they are doing. I’ve even almost prayed for people who aren’t real before (honestly, what is wrong with me).

So obviously, we care quite a bit about the lives of characters. But when it comes to those actually in our lives…

Please tell me I’m not the only one who has: asked someone else how they are doing just so I can tell them how I am, had my response planned out in the heat of an argument or discussion before the other person even says their opinion, or completely ignored or disregarded another person’s experience as valid or true just because I have never had that experience.

I do those things more often than I’d like to admit, and I’m just going to go ahead and assume that you have too.

So, I think it’s time, past time really, that we all sat down and actually listened. It’s as simple as that. Sitting down and listening to our family, friends, acquaintances, strangers… people we like and people we don’t, people we agree with and people we don’t, people who look like us and people who don’t.

Instead of shouting “You’re wrong!” or “I don’t believe you!” or “That’s not true!” Why don’t we sit down, close our mouths, place our full attention on someone else and listen?

Because the truth is I cannot speak for the male experience. I cannot speak for the black experience. Or the gay, transgender, poor, mother, elderly, married, just to name a few. Because that’s not who I am.

I cannot speak for anyone’s experience except for mine. Except for Mikayla’s. I can relate to the straight, white, Christian, single, 22 year old, recent college graduate woman. But even then, I cannot speak for every person who fits those categories. Because each person lives their own unique lives differently.

Each person has their own story.

At the root, this is why it’s problematic to ask the only black person in the room to speak for their entire race. It’s why it’s problematic for white people to say that black individuals aren’t unfairly targeted by the police. Or why I can’t claim to know exactly how an LGBT person feels.

Because the truth is we don’t know how anyone else experiences the world except for ourselves. We could change that, though, if we listened.

Even when we know we’re going to disagree with someone’s opinion, let’s listen.
Even when we don’t agree with someone’s lifestyle or choices, let’s listen.
Even when we have a hard time believing that what they are saying is true, let’s listen.

It’s a choice. You don’t have to listen. You can easily choose not to. But you know, I think listening has the ability to create a more peaceful, just, loving, graceful and good society and world. Because instead of fighting, arguing, ignoring, resisting, forgetting and not caring. We would be sitting down, having honest conversation, opening up and listening.

This doesn’t mean we compromise our beliefs, opinions and ideas. It means we listen first. Then tell the one across the table (who is hopefully willing to listen now that you have listened to them) what you think. That’s it. You don’t have to end the conversation in agreement or with changed beliefs. But you can and should end the conversation in love, peace and respect and with some new insight and knowledge.

That’s the first and most important step, I think. But listening could also go as far as going out of our way to talk to those with completely different experiences so that we can learn more about diversity. It could mean, if we are in a place of higher privilege than the one we are listening to, advocating on their behalf so that their experience can be better. It could even mean something as simple as being a listening ear for a friend who has had a rough day. I would challenge all of us to do all of those things and more.

Ultimately, listening like this could mean a lot. It could be world changing. World shattering, even. I think it could even solve all the world’s problems… maybe. Combined with a whole lot of Jesus, probably.

But my point is, let’s listen. Every person’s story is important and worth hearing.

And I think we can all agree that we can never get too many stories in our lives.

So, I’ll say it again. Listen. Learn. Be a good human. And hug someone different than you.

Until next time.
Mikayla

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Heaven.

I hear a lot of fellow Christians on the subject of Heaven talking about the rewards that we will receive. About how we’ll get all of these fancy crowns and mansions. There will be glorious streets of gold. It’ll all be so amazing and like nothing we’ve ever seen before.

But honestly, I don’t get why that’s so often the focus.

Yes, those things are wonderful and sure I guess I’m pumped for it because we all know I’m not going to see those things in my lifetime here.

But in Heaven we’re going to be in the presence, the actual presence, of our Lord and Savior.

I don’t think I’m going to care if I have a crown or a mansion. I won’t care that I’m walking on streets of gold.

Because I’ll be able to worship Him perfectly forever and ever. I’ll be able to sit at His actual feet and praise everything that He has done. I’ll be able to walk by His side for eternity. Isn’t that a thousand times more beautiful and incredible than riches?

Our human minds always go straight to the riches of Heaven, but that’s not even important. We will be with God!

Admittedly, I’m not really one to want to hurry my residence in Heaven along because there’s so much more that I want to do here. But when I started thinking about it like the presence of God rather than a place with lots of riches, it became something that I can actually look forward to. The fancy and gold part of Heaven has never really been what attracts me to it. It’s just Jesus that does.

No more pain, tears, heartache, injustice, anxiety, fear, hatred, depression… so that we can just continuously joyously worship our Father with our Father without those things as distractions. Wow.

There’s also this hope that I can look forward to a place where everyone is unified. There will be a unified and peaceful body of people, with different genders, races, languages, classes, educations, interests, country of origins, backgrounds and sins, together worshiping our commonality… God. It’s so beautiful to me. We live on an earth with so many arguments and wars and conflicts and disagreements, and Heaven won’t have that. We will finally look past our differences and live together peacefully. I literally can’t wait for that.

But I also think we often get caught up in “Lord, come quickly” because we’re tired of living in this evil, messed up world and want that peace. I know I’ve definitely thought that a few times in the past few weeks alone. But I think we have to start  remembering the people, so many people, who have never heard Jesus’s name. They don’t know about His love, grace, mercy, kindness, courage, and forgiveness. They haven’t heard of His incredible act on the cross. They don’t know, and we should have compassion for them because Heaven is going to be so great.

I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve asked the Lord to go ahead and come just because I know I’m going to fail a test the next day. But in the grand scheme of things, that is selfish. He can go ahead and come because I know I’ll be in Heaven with Him when He does. But what about the people who haven’t heard? We should love the world enough to pray that each person knows Him before they leave this earth. And I know God will come back whenever He wants regardless of what we want or pray or hope. But we should want to see every single person in Heaven with us.

So even wishing for just ourselves to be in Heaven with Him before His timing is selfish. We are still here, living and breathing, because He is using us here to spread the gospel. Embrace that. Yes, look forward to Heaven and think of it as often as you get discouraged by this world. It’s encouraging to know where our home is. But don’t waste your time here wishing you were there. You are being used with every breath for a higher purpose and calling and it’s important. Don’t waste it.

Ultimately, it should break our hearts every time someone dies without knowing Him. Even if they were the worst person on the planet. Even if we think they somehow deserved death.

It should break our hearts.

I guess there’s two actions to do from here that I want to challenge all of us to do:

1. Tell others about Jesus through words and also actions. Not for an extra reward in Heaven but because your heart is broken. And not just the comfortable or the easy or the ones you think deserve Jesus, but the ones that you know you’re the exact opposite from. The ones you know will be hard. The ones you know will take work. And do it with love. Love that person like Jesus so that they see Jesus before you even speak His name.
2. And try your absolute hardest to make this world as close to Heaven as possible. Yes, it will never happen. This world will never be perfect. Sin messed that up. But we can advocate for justice and mercy and peace and love and hope and joy and unity. We can make this world better and we should. We shouldn’t complacently sit around while terrible things happen because we know it will never compare to Heaven. We shouldn’t walk by the broken man on the side of the road. This is our home for the time being so we should always strive to make it better, more like Jesus. Be healers and peacemakers and bridge builders and lovers and uniters and joy bringers. Because Jesus himself prayed… “Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.” (Matthew 6:10) And that should be our prayer too.
   

I imagine Heaven will be exactly like those moments of beautiful and intimate impromptu circles of friends in the middle of the parking lot singing songs of praise to the Lord in sweet fellowship. And it will be just as perfect as those moments. And those moments give me hope that snippets of Heaven can happen on earth too.

The time I had an identity crisis.

I’m having a crisis.

I started missing high school the other day so I’m obviously having a quarter-life crisis. Really, why would I want to go back there?

Maybe worse than that is the fact that I’ve gone my entire life thinking, knowing I was a Hufflepuff, but I made a Pottermore account yesterday to find out my Ilvermorny house (Pukwudgie) and decided to get sorted into my Hogwarts house while I was at it. I was fully expecting Hufflepuff then the result came… Ravenclaw? That can’t be right. You’re drunk, sorting hat.

But after some research, I think I’ve been lying to myself. I think the sorting hat was right. I think I am a Ravenclaw. What is happening. Do I actually have enough knowledge to answer a complicated question every time I go into the common room?

The good news is that I’m fairly certain Pukwudgie is the Hufflepuff equivalent of the American wizarding school, but seriously. I’m having an identity crisis.

My serious Hufflepuff pride has turned into a confused whirlwind of canary yellow and black, blue and bronze, badgers and eagles. I can’t just change my allegiance. That’s like suddenly going from a die-hard Braves fan to a Cubs fan. WHO AM I?

I have no idea.

All I know is that I’m going to have to change my Twitter bio. And my About Me page (which needs changed anyway because I’m no longer a senior at the University of Tennessee… I’m an alum. Still weird).

It’s funny (or not) because this isn’t the first time I’ve had this identity problem.

I’ve been in a constant battle between identifying as an ISFJ or an INFJ for the Myers-Briggs personality test for a while. I’ve taken it repeatedly and gotten both more than once. I think I probably more closely align with and most often say that I am an ISFJ, but I really aspire to be an INFJ. In my ideal self, that’s what I would be. But regardless, the question still stands.

Who am I?

Because it’s not really what I want or what I thought.
But it’s exactly how God made me.

You know, I think our culture (me included) is too caught up in categories and bios and descriptions. We have to have the perfect clever but descriptive social media bio and email signature. We have to be democrat or republican, liberal or conservative, Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw, pro-life or pro-choice, gun laws or 2nd amendment, ISFJ or INFJ, etc, etc…
Like there’s never a scale.

But I fall in the middle ALL the time which makes me question who I am ALL the time.
I don’t fit in one certain category so who am I?

Well, I’m me. Maybe I don’t perfectly fit into socially constructed categories, but I’m me. And that’s okay.

Hi, I’m Mikayla and I’m just a person trying to figure out who she is. Trying to figure out God’s calling and purpose for her life. Trying to follow His will. Trying to find herself along the way. Trying to be confident in how God created her.

And maybe that looks like a very confused girl (or woman, rather) who can’t figure out if she’s a Ravenclaw or a Hufflepuff. But it also looks like a woman who is trying to embrace who she is and be confident in it no matter what anyone else says or on which side they tell her she should be on. A woman who loves the middle and hates it too but stays there anyways because it’s who she is.

A woman who is also really indecisive and maybe that’s the real problem here.

Shoot, I am clearly a mess. But the Lord thought it was a good idea to create me like this so I might as well love it. We all wish for changes in ourselves, to be a little more this or a little better at that. And don’t get me wrong, it’s good to want to improve and we should strive for improvement. But loving yourself exactly how you are is important. So, I’m choosing to love who I am even if I don’t know what exactly that is. Even in the midst of confusion and uncertainty. Even if there’s qualities that don’t make sense or that I don’t want to like. I’m choosing to love who I am.

Whoever I am, I love it. Or I’m trying to at least.

Remember that you are beautiful. Love yourself well. And love others well because they’re beautiful too.

Also, never tickle a sleeping dragon. (and that’s why I’m single)

Until next time,
Your favorite RavenPuff (or is it HuffleClaw?)

He is Good.

God’s plan is always good. That’s something that I am trying to remember  lately.

Even when,

Christina Grimmie was shot and killed at her concert last night.

There’s going to be a Trump vs. Clinton election this year.

I just turned down the only job offer I’ve gotten.

My pups can sit on command, but they still pee in the house.

There’s way too much poverty, violence, war, oppression and hate in the world.

There are so many “Lord, help me” prayers going on right now.

Really, I don’t understand His plan at all. But I know that it is good because He is good.

He is so, so good.

And maybe we don’t see His goodness in the mundane, horrible and unexpected things.
I know I don’t always.

But we see His goodness in His love, mercy and grace. In His death on the cross to save us from darkness. In His provision. In His blessings. In His creation. In His word. In His people.

And I am thankful for that. Oh so thankful.

It is easy to see His goodness in the good and lovely moments. It isn’t in the not so good moments, but we have to see it in those moments too because His goodness is unchanging. His goodness is always holy no matter what is happening.

Trusting the Lord and His timing and plan is hard and not something I’m good at. I’m not going to pretend that I am sitting here not worried about life. Because I am. But because I know that He is good, I am trying so hard to trust Him.

So trust Him no matter how difficult it is. Trust Him no matter how confused you are. Trust Him even if you think He’s wrong and your plan is better. Trust Him.

This song is always on my heart, but especially today…

“Let the King of my heart
be the mountain where I run
The Fountain I drink from
Oh He is my Song
Let the King of my heart
be the shadow where I hide
the ransom for my life
Oh He is my Song

You are good good ohhh
You are good good ohhh
You are good good ohhh
You are good good ohhh

Let the King of my heart
be the wind inside my sails
The anchor in the waves
Oh He is my Song
Let the King of my heart
be the fire inside my veins
the echo of my days
Oh He is my Song

You are good good ohhh
You are good good ohhh
You are good good ohhh
You are good good ohhh

You’re never gonna let me down
You’re never gonna let me down
You’re never gonna let me down
You’re never gonna let me down
You’re never gonna let me down
You’re never gonna let me down
You’re never gonna let me down
You’re never gonna let me down”

Oh give thanks to the LORD, for he is good, for his steadfast love endures forever! (Psalm 107:1)

Diversity and Inclusion.

(Picture found on the UTDiversityMatters’s Facebook page)

I’m frustrated. It’s not uncommon for me. You probably know that, but today I found myself so overwhelmed with all of these negative emotions that I couldn’t even form a thought that made sense. So, naturally I’m writing about it to try to form something coherent.

This morning in my Law and Society class we talked about immigrants. Immigrants are people, and that’s all that really matters to me. I don’t care where they’re from, why they needed to leave their country, what they’ve done… All I care about is that they’re people that need help. But we (America) don’t do a good job at helping them. We make citizenship impossible to achieve. We arrest, detain and deport them just for existing. Because somehow it’s possible for a human being who God placed on this planet to be illegal for just breathing. We make it loud and clear that we are exclusive.

It’s like we’re saying “Sorry, we’re known as a melting pot but we actually don’t like anyone who doesn’t look, act or talk like us. Oh, there’s political conflict, natural disasters, war and stagnant economies in your country? Well, that’s just too bad you’ll have to deal with it or find somewhere else to go because I have to eat my post-dinner ice cream, fill up my new car with gas, charge my iPhone and watch my Netflix shows. I don’t have the time, energy or resources to help you.”

Are we really that afraid of people who aren’t like us? Are we so afraid of diversity that we’ll risk their lives? Like our luxuries and  privilege are more important than their lives. They leave their country out of fear. They don’t want to leave their home, everything they know and love, but they have to. They don’t have this big agenda to destroy America. They’re seeking refuge, and they think they can find it here. But they don’t because we don’t give it to them. Because we make them live in fear here too. Instead of being welcoming and kind, loving and caring, we make them continue to live in fear.

That entire conversation in my class this morning reminded me of the current big UT issue, The Office of Diversity and Inclusion. As most of you know, there is a bill trying to defund the office for In God We Trust decals for law enforcement vehicles and minority scholarships. Now, I have a lot to say about what they want the money to go to, but I’m going to skip that to talk about the importance of why we need diversity and inclusion. A more important conversation.

We need diversity because we’re scared of people not like us. Why is that? Because we aren’t exposed to them. Why is that? Because we aren’t inclusive. We kick people out of the country, our bakeries, our churches, you name it because we’re exclusive. Just like segregation. Only whites allowed. Only white, Christian, heterosexual, men allowed. And there’s always stereotypical reasons to allow this discrimination and oppression to happen. All blacks are criminals, all Hispanics are trying to take our jobs (like we have an entitlement to those jobs), all Muslims are terrorists. They don’t seem wrong, though, because some (a tiny minority) have done those things. We have seen them do it. But it is absolutely essential for us to remember that not everyone falls under those categories. This is why categories are so damaging. They lump all people who look the same into one category when maybe that category doesn’t fit them at all.

And I know. Trust me, I remember 9/11. I know that it scares us, it scares me. Some terrible things have happened because of outsiders. And I’ll be honest, I don’t have the magical solution. I don’t know how to keep all “bad” people out and let all “good” people in. It’s hard and complicated and tricky and risky. But all I know is that they’re people even the “bad” ones. They’re people who deserve to be treated like human beings, like a precious life worthy of living.

And I also know that less than 20% of all immigrants commit serious criminal acts. Most immigrants are arrested and deported for minor crimes like a broken tail light or not using a signal light or for simply existing in the wrong place in the wrong body.

Like I said before, I am frustrated because I want everyone on this planet to be recognized as a human. I am so tired of dehumanization, and we do it all the time. Just the other day I was reading an article about Jajuan Latham, the 12 year old who was shot as an innocent bystander by gun violence, and the comments were absolutely disgusting. The racist language being used was so dehumanizing towards all individuals of color. The violence in their words was almost as bad as the crime itself.

Dehumanization is the third step of genocide, and oh goodness are we there. I’m so scared for this nation and our inability to care or maybe our unwillingness to care. We don’t even care about our own citizens, about our neighbors, let alone the rest of the world. We only care about two things: ourselves and profit. Caring about and helping others doesn’t get us there, does it? So we just don’t do it.

I will say this. It’s easier not to care. Sometimes I miss the times when I didn’t. Caring and acting on that care is exhausting. It takes work, but it is so worth it in the end.

We’re all people created by the Creator and deserving of love and kindness because that’s what Jesus mimicked for us on the cross. He loved the unlovable, cared for the ones not cared for, sought out the ones who were ignored. I strive to be more like that every day, and I really hope you do too. We can start right here, right now on UT’s campus, not allowing the legislature to defund the Office of Diversity and Inclusion because diversity matters.

Confidence.

I’ve been thinking about confidence lately.

I really don’t have much confidence at all if I’m being honest.

It’s the ultimate reason for why it’s frustratingly impossible for me to take part in class discussions. It’s why I worry about what I look like. It’s why I trail off on my sentences or take back what I said. It’s the reason I second-guess myself and can’t make decisions. It’s why I get nervous before things like presentations or going somewhere new or talking to someone I don’t know.

It all goes back to confidence.

But in all of that, I’ve realized that not being confident in myself means I’m not confident in God. He made me. He made my passions, my knowledge, my opinions, ideas and thoughts. He made my appearance. He made me exactly how I am for a reason and a purpose. So, I should be confident in that because it’s from Him, and He is perfect. Because He is perfect and knows all things and sees all things, I can be confident in Him and trust Him which means I can be confident and trust myself because He is in me.

I was listening to The Artist by Rend Collective on my car ride home and it says “You make all things bright and beautiful, wild and colorful. You make our lives bright and beautiful, wild and colorful. You are the artist.” It’s so good and so convicting. It’s so easy to love God’s creation and other people because of the beauty in them. (For the most part, anyway.) But I struggle so hard to love myself and find that beauty in me. Why, though?

I’m just as much His creation as everybody else. I’m loved like everyone else. I’m forgiven and given grace and mercy. Jesus died for me too. But I seem to forget that.

I think it’s hard because I don’t want to be selfish. I don’t want the attention to be on me because then I’ll look self-absorbed. I want to care about others so badly that I tend to neglect myself. That thought process is almost prideful, though.  It’s almost prideful of me to not be confident in myself. It’s prideful to want to be better or prettier because then I’m hoping to change how God created me. I am perfectly Mikayla, and you are perfectly you. We’re not perfect, but we’re the perfect one of us because we’re the only one of us.

I’ve learned that it’s nearly impossible to love others the way you should if you don’t love yourself like you should.

So here’s my challenge to you and me… embrace yourself. love yourself. be yourself.

Be exactly who God made you to be, and don’t let anyone especially yourself give you a reason not to be confident in that.

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;  your works are wonderful, I know that full well. -Psalm 139:14

Spring Break.

A few hours ago I rolled up to the Baptist Collegiate Ministry in the co-pilot position of a twelve passenger van after riding in that van for approximately twelve hours on the way home from New Orleans, Louisiana. I thanked the Lord for familiar territory, my own bed, less humidity and kisses from my dogs.

But I want to go back. I don’t want to do my homework or go to class or my internship. I don’t want to be stressed out and anxious like I always am. I want to go back. Not just to NOLA, but to New York, McAllen and Chicago too. Each of these places I have spent only a week of my lifetime in, but they have huge pieces of my heart. I find peace in those places. My worries don’t exist there, and my mission is simply to serve the people there. I decrease while He increases… while the people I’m serving increase. I deny myself and my needs and worries so that I can tend to the needs of the people there, and I love it. I don’t want to be worried about myself all of the time. It’s exhausting.

Something about serving makes those places so real. They’re not just pictures. You see firsthand the brokenness, the pain, the heartache, the darkness but you also see the joy, hope, peace, and light. There’s the good and ugly of every place including Knoxville and serving makes you see both and learn to appreciate both. Serving isn’t easy. Mission trips aren’t a breeze. You leave tired and sunburned and probably in need of being poured into and filled back up. But they have done so much in shaping who I am now, and God molds, pushes and grows me on those trips.

I’ll admit that I can do all of the things I did on each of those spring break mission trips in Knoxville, and I don’t. I don’t treat Knoxville as a mission field. Maybe if I did I would do better at finding peace in my everyday life. In lessening myself and trusting the Lord more. I should be serving the people of Knoxville as boldly and as energetically as I did in each of those cities because Knoxville is just as broken as any other city. Knoxvillians need Jesus just like anyone else. That is something that the Lord really taught me on this trip as the realization of this being my last BCM mission trip sunk in. I am dang sad about it, but if I treated wherever I am as a mission field with people that need to be served, I think I will find the same satisfaction and wonder that I find on each mission trip I’ve been on.

I love to travel, though, which is one of the things that makes these mission trips so special to me. Each time was a new place and adventure. When you’re away from home in a new place, you absolutely have to rely on God and those around you to make it through. I’m thankful for that growth, and it is something that I can’t find as easily here because I’m in my daily routine of comfort and busyness. But I will continuously try to find that here or wherever I end up because I can’t let the comfort distract me. I can’t let the busyness push evangelism, praying or serving off until later. It’s an urgent matter, and I can’t forget that. Oh goodness, it’s hard though.

I also love the servant’s heart that explodes out of the people I have the privilege of exploring these places with. I love my BCM family. I honestly don’t know how I made it through life before I met them. They have pushed me and challenged me in ways that no one else ever has. They have loved me unconditionally and sacrificially. I think watching them serve and love on others is my favorite part of my college spring breaks. They are so passionate about the gospel and Jesus’s love literally overflows out of them. They inspire me in ways that I hope to continually see after I graduate because it teaches me so much. I have grown one hundred times more in my faith and as a person by knowing them for four years than I did in the eighteen years before I met them. They are so incredible, and I would brag on them all day, every day.

To be real for a minute, I’m scared of what will happen when I graduate. The thing I will miss the most about college is the amazing community of believers that God gave me at the BCM. My brothers and sisters in Christ there are in my favorite life memories, and I know I’ve found forever friends with them.

You might have expected a little bit more of an update of what I did in New Orleans in this blog, and I’ll be glad to tell you but this is what I needed to say here.

I love to serve especially with my BCMers beside me. It may just be my favorite thing on the planet.

Labels.

You know what I would love? A world without labels. I was thinking about this the other day after another depressing lecture in a Sociology class (I really do love my major, I promise), and I decided that Sociology would be a whole lot less depressing without labels. Because that’s honestly where all the problems begin. That’s where discrimination and oppression start. That’s where the Holocaust began. It’s where violence and hatred and war stem from.

It all starts with labels. Labels quite literally tear us apart.

What if race had never been socially constructed. What if we didn’t call another person fat or ugly. What if we didn’t label someone based on their crime or sin.  What if we didn’t identify ourselves and others by gender, sexual orientation, religion, country, etc. What if we were all just humans. We are all just people. What if we all identified each other based on God’s image and that’s it. What if we forgave. What would happen if beauty didn’t have only one specific look?

Can you imagine? Sociologists would be studying all kinds of wonderful things instead of terrible ones.

Question: why can’t I just say that I love Jesus instead of calling myself a Christian? I mean I can, but if I said that I loved Jesus I would automatically be labeled a Christian in the head of the person I said it to. It’s automatic. This is only one example, but it makes it so obvious how necessary labels are in our world. Do they have to be necessary though?

Labels come with so many stereotypes and baggage. If you are black, you’re supposed to act one way. If you are a woman, you’re supposed to be another way. Then if you’re a black woman, you’re supposed to be something entirely different. But why can’t we all just be human beings? Seriously. Why.

I read a piece by Derrick Bell the other day where he claimed that racism is never going to go away. It’s so true and dark and can be said about sexism, ableism, ageism, whatever else. But racism (and all other “isms”) won’t go away because we’ve created race. I will always see those who look different than me, differently, maybe negatively because race exists. We created racism when we created race. And don’t tell me that race isn’t socially constructed. Yes we look different, but we made it to where skin color is the first thing we notice about someone. We made definitions out of skin color.

I just (disclaimer: this is going to be crazy radical)… I just want to live in a world where there’s no continents, no countries, no races, no labels. Where we are all one unified people. Where we don’t build walls between countries for fear of each other. Where we don’t tell others to leave our home because they don’t belong. Where we don’t tell others that they aren’t welcome. Where we aren’t afraid to be immersed in a different culture because they’re different. Where black people aren’t shot because they’re black. Where I am not commanded to be a certain way because I am a woman. I just want us to be us. Whatever that may be.

Unique but united.

I’ve given up on the fact that this will ever occur unless we can go back in time and change everything. Where’s the Doctor at? Peter Capaldi, could you come pick me up in your Tardis? Let’s go change the world.

But anyway, I look forward to… in fact, I long for the day when I arrive in Heaven where this will be reality. We won’t notice any labels about each other… we’ll just be rejoicing together. Unified. But until then, I will try my best to love everyone and treat everyone like they are human. Like they are me even when they are different than me. Knowing that God loves them just as much as He loves me. Loving them with crucifixion love instead of reciprocal love not expecting anything in return… sacrificing something. Just loving despite of the labels. Loving even though I’ve been socialized to see labels. Choosing to love anyways.

Two Little Truths

I wouldn’t usually be sitting here writing this when there’s a pile of homework beside me waiting to be done. But here I am. It’s easier because I already wrote all of this in the journal I started today. I bought a journal that I was supposed to fill with the times I was stressed out (aka all of the time) for a class, Stress Management, that I dropped because it was stressing me out. Long story. So, I changed the journal into journaling about Jesus because why not. I should have been doing it all along.

God has been reminding me over and over the past few days of these two little truths. Truths that once I realized have already significantly changed how I view life.

The first is this. God is enough. He and His love alone satisfies me. I don’t need other’s affections. I don’t need other’s compliments or Facebook likes. I don’t need people or food or things. Because none of that will satisfy me. It’s a hard thing to realize especially for someone like me who feels like she needs all of those desperately. I need acceptance. I need other people. I need my iPhone to survive. But those things won’t fill me like God does. I will always be left unsatisfied, feeling not good enough, disappointed, unloved and empty when I rely on those things or other people. Because they all fail. People fail you and make you feel unloved. iPhone’s die. Food spoils. Flowers fade. But God? He will always satisfy. He will never fail you or stop loving you. Ever. He is enough. He is all I really need. I never truly grasped what is meant by He is the bread of life, and now I do.

The second hit me suddenly and out of nowhere. But it relates to my constant fear of missing out. I’m basically like a kid who won’t fall asleep for a nap for fear of missing something awesome. I don’t like missing things. I don’t think anyone does. But God stopped me in my tracks and told me that in whatever moment I am in, He put me there. He designed the moment I am in right now intentionally and purposefully. So I shouldn’t be thinking of other moments I could be missing or what else I could be doing. I should be living this moment to its fullest. I should be completely present and engaged in every moment that I am in. And admittedly, I don’t do this very often. I am constantly thinking about something else instead of living in the exact moment that I was placed in. So this is definitely something I needed to realize. It’s something I need to work on improving at.

So there they are. Two little truths that I wanted to share with you.

The time I tried the Daniel Fast.

I’m beginning to write this seven days into the Daniel Fast, and I’m already doing a pretty great job at messing it up. I’ve cheated more than once, and I haven’t read a chapter of John every day.

It’s basically turning into a period of giving up sweet tea and donuts (not anymore on the donuts… Update: Or the sweet tea…) and overwhelming guilt.

The Backstory: My pastor asked our church to participate in the Daniel Fast as we begin the new year. If you don’t know what that is, it’s where you limit your diet by taking out meat, dairy, sweets and leavened bread for 21 days. You essentially eat like Daniel did in Daniel 1. In addition to this, we were supposed to read a chapter of John every day. So since everyone else was doing it, I figured I’d give it a shot. Why not right?

I could make up excuses to why I’m sucking at it like food is my ultimate weakness and even though John is one of my favorite books of the Bible, I’ve read it so many times in the past year that I just don’t want to read it right now. Plus I’m doing a pretty solid job of keeping up with She Reads Truth at the moment and adding a chapter of John each day will probably mean sacrificing one of them, and that’s just the truth of my current state of Bible reading.

But honestly, those excuses don’t matter because my heart wasn’t in it. It still isn’t.

But despite all of that, the Lord is still faithful and He has taught me significantly  more in these days of attempting and failing miserably at the Daniel Fast than I think He would have if I would have executed it perfectly.

I realized that I love food. Maybe too much. I don’t really know. I just know that I don’t have much self-control when it comes to food. Maybe I’m gluttonous. I only overeat occasionally though, and I can mostly control my portions. But I just can’t turn down free food, and sometimes I drool in grocery stores. I love food especially the food that you can’t eat on the Daniel Fast. It’s delicious, and I thank God for it. Life would be boring without good food.

Can food be an idol? Probably. In fact, our whole day is planned around meals (and class and work and everything else that’s important to us), but maybe it should be planned around time with God instead. Whoa. That’s intensely convicting isn’t it?

But food isn’t bad. Besides the fact that we need food to survive, I think back at all of the sweet, meaningful times spent with friends and family over meals or coffee.

I’ve also realized how damaging legalism can be to me. I’m not saying in any way that this fast was legalistic. But I am saying that I made it that way. I held myself to a standard that I couldn’t reach. I looked at the list of foods I wasn’t “supposed” to eat for 21 days and made it into a set of strict rules to follow. I do this often with so many different things. I even make my relationship with Christ that is full of love, kindness and forgiveness into a set of rules I have to follow. If I don’t follow them, He won’t love me. I won’t be good enough. But that’s the furthest thing from the truth. The truth is He loves me regardless of whether or not I follow the ten commandments at all times. Regardless of whether I succeed at the Daniel Fast. Granted I should repent when I sin but the point is He loves me, and because of that He forgives me when I fail Him. When I break His heart by turning down the path well traveled instead of the narrow one, when I turn my back on Him and walk the other direction, when I run right past His open arms into the arms of something else, when I sin.  He loves us at our weakest and most disgusting moments, and that’s what makes the gospel so beautiful.

My promises will never be good enough. I won’t keep all of my promises. I can’t because I’m not perfect. I am human. Flawed. But God always keeps His promises because He is holy. His promise to love and care for me. His promise to forgive me when I mess up. Never failing and never ending. His promises are forever. I am so thankful for that.

I have to remind myself that God doesn’t call us to a new law. He calls us to a relationship with Him. Christianity isn’t supposed to be a set of rules and regulations. And I know that. It’s been drilled into me since I was born. But I make it that way so often. Do I really act like this is a relationship? Or am I just trying to be as good as I can because that’s what I am supposed to do? So I can impress God or other people?

It’s not a set of rules. It’s a relationship. And relationships are messy. They are far from perfect. They’re up and down. In and out. Sideways. You argue. You cry. You smile. You fight and make up. You forgive and forget. You move on. You laugh. You serve. You give. You sacrifice. You hug. You hit. You walk away. You communicate. You reminisce. You encourage. You comfort. You get mad. You hate. You love. It’s a roller coaster.

And that’s exactly what we have with God. Thankfully one side of the relationship is perfect, but my side… definitely not.

Every relationship is different. My relationship with my sister is different than your relationship with yours. So my relationship with God is going to look different than yours. What works to grow your faith is different than mine. Your spiritual gifts are different than mine. Our struggles, where we find our joy, how we tell others about Jesus, where and when we pray, everything is different. And that’s okay. We don’t have to all look the same. We don’t all have to interact with God the same. We don’t have to act out our faith the same way. And so often I look at other people who seem to have it all together and seem to be such good Christians, and they are, but I compare myself to them. Then I think that maybe I should be acting more like that girl over there or sharing my faith like that guy on the other side of the room, but what if that just doesn’t work for me? What if I’m not good at what they do? Because God has gifted me and called me to something different. Something unique to me.

This may be why there’s so much disagreement among Christians. Because we’re all unique and we think we’re the only one who’s right when in reality God is the only one who’s right. But isn’t our uniqueness what makes it so beautiful? That God can reach such a wide variety of individuals. That He doesn’t just love one specific set of people who are all similar. That despite our dissimilarities we are all the same in that we are all sons and daughters of Christ. Heirs to His throne. We (should) love each other despite our differences because we’re all the same. We’re all loved by the one who created us.

Finally I realized that for the first time doing something remotely close to the Daniel Fast, it wasn’t wise for me to start with a 21 day fast from my favorite foods. So, I think next time I am going to fast on my own when God tells me it’s a good time, how He tells me it should be done and for how long I should do it. It’ll actually be something attainable where my heart is in it. Where I’m not guilty because I’m failing man, but convicted because I’m failing God. Where I can grow as a Christian and grow closer to the Lord. Then eventually maybe I’ll try the Daniel Fast again because I don’t hate the idea. It just wasn’t for me this time around.