This is how the principle goes.

When there is a person in front of you, you love the person. Period. When someone is unattractive to you, you choose to believe the person is beautiful, and you love. When someone is annoying or rude in your understanding, you choose to believe the person is still worth it, and you love. When someone has completely conflicting views from you, you still love. When someone is offended by you, angry at you, bitter toward you, you love in return. You do not show favoritism or value one person over another. You love all with all your heart. Even the people who are unloving or who wounded your own generation with their actions, you forgive and love those people. And even the religious, or the judgmental, and even people who stone and rape women, you love those people too.

This principle of love is actually impossible, yet I watch in amazement as my friends live this way, day by day. They are empowered by a love that makes all things possible. They do not do it by their own strength. But even such a pure and lovely principle of Love, can begin to be twisted and work negatively within us, producing things like performance, self-righteousness, self-judgment, and self-martyrdom. This is why it’s important that we never allow the principle to show love to abide in our minds in greater measure than the principle to receive love. As long as we are focused on how well we are loving, we are still measuring ourselves by our performance, and the end result will be either pride or shame, which are both love-killers. It is only when we understand that God is Love, that God owns all the Love, and that God’s Love is what is pouring out through us and making us and others whole, that we will stop trying to love, and we will start becoming Love. Florence gave us the theme song- “You’ve got the Love!”

I am bringing this up because I have seen this happen in myself and in others. We are so busy trying to love all the time, but we keep failing. So we are hard on ourselves. We compare ourselves. We have ideas about what love should look like, and we make these demands on ourselves. As a result, we fall into self-hatred. And all our weapons of love are instantly disarmed. We are prey to self-pity, jealousy, and bitterness.

We need to make sure that we are not talking about Love more than we are talking about the Good News. Because sometimes when we talk about Love, we are talking about ourselves and what we are able to do. But when we talk about the Good News, we are talking about God and what he has done. When we focus on the Good News, which says that we are loved, we are significant, and we are worthwhile in God’s eyes, and we don’t have to do a damn thing or love a single person to get there, that’s when we get real happy. That’s when we start to love ourselves. That’s when we start to become Love. And that’s when love pours out miraculously, into every human interaction. That’s when we realize that what people really need is God’s love, not ours. He’s got the Love!

We also need to make sure that we are not creating a standard of behavior, which we refer to as Love, but which is actually just another external rule. We are intended to function like the different members of a body, each part doing its small part, so that we create the whole image of Jesus. As soon as we say that every part has to look the same or love the same way, as soon as we fix our eyes on the way things should look, we are stunting creativity and we are distracting ourselves from the true expression of Love, replacing it with a phony counterfeit.

When one person is filled with God’s Love, she might hug people and smile at people and vibrantly nurture. But when a different person is filled with the same Love, she might get really quiet and become a happy listener. Still when another is filled with Love, he might compose music to express it or write poetry. And another might begin to speak truth boldly and call people out to be who they are. Another might fight for justice.

Who knows what it will look like. The important thing is, we are becoming Love from the inside out, with our primary focus on receiving God’s grace and celebrating the Good News. After all, the greatest Love of all has already been shown to the whole world. It was when Jesus died for everyone. We can’t compete with that, so we can just stop competing altogether. We must realize, that even if we love like crazy, even if we give ourselves away for the common good, we should still be only consumed by the concept of how well we are loved, not by how well we love. We will never out-love God. We will always be children more than we are mothers and fathers. We will always be blessed more than we are blessers. We will always be loved more than we are lovers. Sigh of relief. I can just relax and enjoy belonging to God, my Papa!

Last July, I enrolled in a school of fashion to study apparel management. I began to learn that there was more behind my clothes than meets the eye. I learned that most of the fabric that made up my clothes, went through long manufacturing processes that consumed a great amount of energy. The fabric was then sent to cutting and sewing factories, where women, and sometimes children, were overworked without fair wages. The garments were then shipped to the warehouses for the retail stores. At the retail stores, they hung neatly on display, with no record of their complicated histories, other than a label, reading “made in such-and-such country,” which I paid no attention to in the past. I was only focused on the price tag.

All of this goes on to support the fast fashion needs of Europe, North America, and Asia. In 2008, the apparel industry generated revenues of $1.344.1 billion worldwide. The industry is a huge part of our world and our global economy, and it affects millions of workers every day.

So I know the question will come up. If consumers stop advocating fast fashion, what will be the consequences on the global economy, and especially on developing economies? Truth be told, apparel factories are major stimulates for economic growth in developing nations, and they also provide jobs for members of desperate, needy households. If this is the case, can we really argue that sweatshop labor is wrong and should be boycotted?

This is a complicated question, and I’m still learning the different facets of it. Currently, my answer is yes, sweatshop labor and child labor should be boycotted, no matter its apparent benefits to economies and households. First of all, the issue of protecting individuals’ quality of life is always the priority over the issue of a society’s economic growth at large. Secondly, there are ways for the economy to continue to develop in a healthy way. If consumers will refuse to purchase unethical products, retailers will no longer gain from partnering with suppliers that exploit workers. In order for retailers to do business with them, factory employers in developing nations will be held accountable for the way they treat their workers. The factories can still flourish, and the jobs can still be created, but in a way that directly benefits the quality of life of workers and their families.

Consider prostitution. Would you support a brothel just because it offered jobs in prostitution to women who would otherwise be out of work? No, because no measure of need justifies humans working under inhumane treatment.

In one of my classes, I was required to create cost sheets for my own garment designs. Cost Sheets organize information to determine the total estimated cost that will go into making a garment, in order to calculate wholesale and retail price. This includes the cost of fabrics and materials (buttons, zippers, etc.), as well as the cost of labor, accounting for cutting, sewing, grading, and marking, as well as the cost of shipping. I tried to find material for my designs that was beautiful and quality, but also inexpensive. Even so, my garment selling prices averaged between $100 and $200, in order to make a large enough profit to keep a business running. I was shocked to discover this. The fact that retail stores can sell garments for $15 dollars and still make a profit can only be explained a number of ways. The explanations are poor quality material, poor quality construction, exploited labor, or a combination of these.

Consumers need to go through a fashion paradigm shift. The way consumers currently think about fashion, demanding the newest styles for a fraction of the cost required to make them, needs to change. Now, I’m not suggesting that you have to spend hundreds of dollars to be a conscious consumer. In this economy, budgets are tight, and you can’t splurge on clothes when you are worried about eating and paying rent.

There are a number of ways to respond, while keeping your frugality.

1)    Develop a versatile wardrobe. I learned this method from my friends, Shannon and Kristin, at Revolution Apparel. Rather than focusing on the latest trends and changing your style, and thus your entire wardrobe, twice a year, try to develop a style that can be preserved in the long run. Shop less often and save up for better quality clothes that you won’t grow tired of quickly, and that won’t be ruined after their second run through the washing machine. Choose classic fashion essentials and pieces that can be changed up with different outfits. Shannon and Kristin designed a garment that they call the versalette. It can be worn 15 different ways! Check out the versalette.

2)    Shop vintage, thrift, or resale. Reusing clothes will soften the demand for new clothes to be constantly produced. It is a better use of resources, and it can land you with some unique, quality pieces, at inexpensive prices. If you are like me, and getting dressed every morning is never a routine, always a creative venture, this is a good way to spice up your wardrobe with pieces that have character, without damaging your budget.

3)    For those that have a steady paycheck and can spare the money, support retail stores and boutiques that provide ethical fashion. Shop at retail stores that have stringent policies to regulate their supplying factories, and also prices high enough to prove the fair labor, such as Nordstrom. Shop at boutiques or stores that provide made-in-the-USA clothing or organic and environmentally-conscious clothing. While I used to see stores with higher price points as the enemy, I now realize what a sacrifice some of these are making to stand by ethical fashion amongst competitors who unethically offer the same products at lower prices. But please note that not every high price guarantees fair labor or quality garments. Do your research.

Consumers should treasure garments like true pieces of craftsmanship, rather than making flippant decisions to buy and quickly dispose of them, like themed paper napkins for a party. The more we learn to value and appreciate garments and their quality, the more we will enjoy our clothes and maintain a sense of enjoyment in the long haul of the garment’s life. Though we may spend more money on the original purchase, we will save money in the end, by having a satisfactory wardrobe and shopping less often. With clothing, it’s time to mature and think about long-term relationships, not one-night stands.

My running life is an analogy for what’s going on in my spiritual life. This past year, I learned a thing or two about REST. I used to think that I needed to work myself in order to be effective or significant. I would force myself to pray for certain lengths of time. I would discipline myself by fasting. I would basically crack down on myself if I did anything wrong. I made myself constantly aware of what God was saying and doing, but to an unhealthy extent, where I was almost paranoid, and unable to enjoy life. I operated out of a “suck-it-up” and “be hardcore” mindset. The thing is, it never worked. The only thing I accomplished from this mindset was a lot of guilt, and no significant life change.

Reminds me of Colossians, where it says that these self-made rules are “of no value in stopping the indulgence of the flesh” (2:23). They don’t work! This includes self-determination. In the long run, it will only wear you out.

So I had a paradigm shift, where I realized that I literally can do nothing, no matter how determined I am, how disciplined I am, how hardcore I am. My only hope is to operate out of what Christ already did. He finished the entire “work,” when he carried everything wrong with humanity all the way into the ground, and rose from the dead with a new life in his hands, for a new species, that operates in a new realm, out of a new power. Through simply believing, I access this new life and live from the abundance of this new power. Which means, I must put my heart and my mind completely at rest. I remove every burden I once placed on myself to be a certain way or to attain to a certain level of existence. I rip up my to-do list, rip up my agenda, and issue myself a permanent leave of absence. I have officially retired.

And I plan to live the rest of my life in this state of rest.

Now wait a second. I know you are thinking, does that mean you are never going to do anything with your life?

Why no. I am doing and accomplishing more today than ever before in my life. I do better at my schoolwork, I have a more vibrant social life, I spend more time on creative passions, I cook more, I exercise more, and slowly but surely I am learning how to be clean. And whereas before I would set aside time and force myself to pray, now I pray without every stopping. I am in constant companionship with God. The secret is I do it all through recognizing Christ’s power working through me. I do it all through trusting in his strength, not my own. And so I keep myself burden free, because it’s not my responsibility, it’s his.

First God taught me how to rest. And now he is teaching me how to RUN.

Life in Jesus means working hard and running with endurance. That sounds like a contradiction to what I just said. I think because it is a different kind of work than what we imagine work to be. It is not a burdensome work. It is not a slave-driving work. It is a work of ecstasy. Have you ever gotten into that realm where you are so inspired and into what you are doing, that you get lost in it, and you go for hours and hours without noticing time passing? Well that is the kind of work I’m talking about. An inspired work. A work that is like a dance. An overflow of energy and passion.

When I first started running, I had to force myself to keep going and strive out of lack. I was not in shape, and my heart-rate wasn’t used to the level of endurance. So I had to accomplish something I was not fit to do. It was like hell.

Then I finally got to a point where my body was used to endurance, and it was much easier. But still I couldn’t run too long without getting a horrible pain in my side. I inquired other runners about the pain and found out it was related to my breathing. I was not breathing regularly or steadily, and thus was not storing enough oxygen in my lungs, which was causing the pain. The next time I ran, I tried this novel idea: I breathed. And my run was boosted to an entirely new level. I got to a state of running where I felt like I was running on air. My legs felt like an unstoppable machine. I almost could not get myself to stop.

So I went from runner’s hell to runner’s high. The secret: I learned to breathe. I stopped depending on the strength of my muscles, and began depending on my breath, to keep me moving.

It’s the same in life with God. We run this race, not by personal strength, but by breathing in his life every step of the way.

Last week, I was going for a run, and I tripped over an uneven piece of concrete in the sidewalk. I went sprawling. It was ugly. I skinned like eight parts of my body! This little old lady was outside doing yard work and she saw the whole ugly thing. She came over to help me up. But I couldn’t even get up because my hands were all scraped up. Well I finally recovered from shock and managed to stand up. I was bleeding, gross. I was only a block away from my house, so I was about to walk back home. But as I tested things out, I realized all my muscles and ligaments were unharmed. Only my skin was broken. So I fought the temptation to get all whiny and pitiful and go home crying. I dusted myself off and kept running.

As I ran, I realized it was a spiritual analogy! (As so many things are on runs.) As we are running the race of life, fully capable, fully determined, breathing well, approaching that runner’s high, that’s when the little obstacles get in the way, tiny pieces of sidewalk that are just uneven enough to trip us and send us sprawling. This is the work of our enemy, Satan, and his team of spiritual terrorists. But they can only damage our skin. The only thing they can do is mess with the circumstances and physical things. But they can’t get to our souls. But sometimes it’s easy to believe our souls are damaged just because our skin is damaged. We feel pain, we feel shock, we feel mistreatment, and we believe we are wounded and must retreat and recover. This is his strategy to take us out of the game. But despite the initial shocking pain of some things in life, we are the ones who decide how much it will affect us.

As I ran, with scraped up skin, I realized that it wasn’t affecting my ability to run at all. It still stung, yes, but not any more than when I was lying on the ground moping.

To my readers, I challenge you to first learn how to rest. Then learn how to run. Then learn how to keep running with torn-up skin. All by the power and abundant life that is in Christ’s resurrection.

I was indeed owned. Willingly. But not in a constraining way. In a freeing way. In the way that I needed to be owned in order to be alive, in order to be me. In the way that I needed to be owned, needed my beauty to be wondered at, enjoyed, embraced, partnered with, and guided, in order to be that beautiful me.

Owned. Possessed. Belonging to someone. Oh how these words make a woman squirm in this modern world. They sound like hell.

We have never known a pure soul-ownership. We have never seen a healthy authority. We have never been yielded to benevolent power. To us, ownership has only meant control, abuse, judgment, restriction, and shame.

And so we have resisted every possibility of the idea, and we have become independent, in an effort to set ourselves free. It’s the freedom that we long for. To dance, to laugh, to say whatever it is that we want to say, to express whatever it is that we actually think. There is a beauty inside of us that is as layered as a rainbow and as strong as a waterfall. It roars to come out.

But even as we make the breaks with teachers, government, religion, boyfriends, etc, and we become our own possessions, we will even find ourselves to be unqualified rulers. We will question ourselves, judge ourselves, and convince ourselves to hide. We will find our inner beauty yet never trust our inner eyes. We will long for freedom, and so we will do things that feel free, yet are enslaving.

It is undeniable. We need another. We need to rest in a leadership, or we will wear ourselves out trying to play a role we were never meant to play. The role of God.

Even the name God can send tremors. The tremors of unwanted authority. The fear of being controlled. The fear of being judged. And as such that name has been presented to us over the years.

But he is not. He is not.

He sets me free. He sends me to places I would never trust myself to go. He calls me to be things I would never qualify myself to be. He encourages me to be myself and charges me to love myself, with a power that I would never have on my own, to love what I so hated for so many years. He is the power that I need to love myself. He is the convincing that I need to be free. He is my deliverer. He is my rescuer. He does not bind or constrain. He releases. And he protects me from the counterfeit freedoms that are not freedoms at all.

And he patiently waits for me to figure out that it is good to surrender to him. He does not press me. He lets me decide on my own. And in the energy of his love, I fall into a complete trust, and I give him everything. I have never regretted doing so.

I am owned, and thus I am free.

Then part of me remembers the hypocrisy of those famous Pilgrims who thanked God for a land that they took with their own power, at the expense, and sometimes massacre, of thousands of native peoples.

I don’t always know how to balance my sense of conviction about what happened, but also the truth that it is always a good thing to celebrate and be thankful.

I think I find the balance in a story.

In Summer 2008, I spent two weeks at Haskell Indian Nations University in Lawrence, KS. I stayed in a campus dorm hall called “Pocahontas Hall,” along with several other students from around the nation. We were there to love and bless the university, and also to experiment with new ways of having God-focused gatherings (ways other than the traditional and institutional church).

It was finals week, so we went out on campus one day to pass out water bottles and snack bags. As I was passing out water bottles, I met this guy named Bear. He was super friendly to us, and full of personality. While many Natives are raised with animistic spiritualistic beliefs, Bear had been raised with an institutional church background, so he was interested in discovering more about God from the perspective of the Bible (we were all discovering together). More than that, Bear was interested in friendship and hanging out with us, so Bear and I became friends. And what a friendship it would become!

On our last night at the university, we were all gathering to have dinner and then speak blessings over one another. Bear and another Native student, Tabash, joined us. As we laid hands on one another, spoke blessings, and shared words we were hearing from the Spirit, Jesus was very much present and speaking to all of our hearts in powerful ways. When we were finished, Tabash, a strong Native American man with keen spiritual awareness and long hair, had something to share. He said that as we were praying, he began to hear Jesus speaking to him. In response, he gave his heart to Jesus. When we heard this, we all began to celebrate and cheer! This called for a celebratory ceremony! We headed upstairs to dunk Tabash in some bathtub water, as a symbol of his being washed clean for a new life in Jesus! As we headed upstairs, Bear decided that he wanted to get dunked also! And that was how it all started.

For the next couple years, I watched Bear grow in maturity and in God’s love until it just leaked out of him constantly. He began to have great compassion and great dreams for his Native people. He began to see more and more the injustices that they suffered, both politically and spiritually, which enslaved them to cycles of poverty and alcoholism. And he began to see their true potential and ways that they could step into their great identities and destinies as Native peoples, through the one Great Spirit.

So in fall of 2010, Bear returned to Haskell Indian Nations University as a freshman, to live with and train up his people in the ways of the Great Spirit. He lived like any other student. He went to class, he played sports, he hung out in his dorm. But he brought a supernatural power into his everyday lifestyle that began to stir up talk all over the campus. Any time Bear heard that someone had a physical ailment, or saw that someone had an injury, Bear would pray for the person through the name of Jesus, and usually the person would be instantly healed. He saw all kinds of broken bones and injuries healed. He also had the opportunity to bring relief through prayer to fellow students who were being tormented by bad spirits.

As a result of God’s power touching people physically and emotionally, many of his friends turned their lives to God, through the one and only way, the way of his Son, Jesus. And they were in turn filled with the Great Spirit. They began to gather together every week as a family. In their gatherings, every person had a voice to share with the group and a spiritual gift to bless the group. They grew together in knowing Jesus and learning how to love and forgive one another, with the Spirit of Jesus as their leader.

I had the opportunity to visit this community at Haskell last spring. They invited me to their gathering and welcomed me as part of the family. I was so amazed and blessed by the gathering. They interacted with the Great Spirit in ways I had never seen before, ways that were unique and specific to their upbringings and cultures. When they prayed together, they often let out soul-rattling Native war cries, expressions of how their hearts were moved over their requests.

Last month, I was talking to Bear on the phone, and he shared enthusiastically about what God was doing in the group. While many of the students had grown up with a mindset of poverty, they were learning how to give generously and believe that as sons and daughters of God, they had more than enough to give. As a result, they raised a fund of several hundred dollars, which they were using to bless those in need. They were able to help one Haskell student pay his tuition when he didn’t have the means. During this phone conversation, Bear found out that I had been struggling financially recently. He asked me to send a request to their spiritual family for support in my time of need.

At first I was quite opposed to the idea. How could I, a privileged white girl, receive money from my Native American family, when I already felt a sense of debt to them because of America’s history with the Native Nations? It just seemed so wrong. But then Bear prayed for me and spoke these words over me: “It is your time to receive.” After this, I felt peace in my heart. I sent a video to the Haskell family, explaining my needs.

When they watched the video, they were so filled with compassion for me, that they decided to send the entirety of their funds to me. That’s when I knew I had witnessed a true miracle. It could only be a supernatural love, the love of a God who gave up his Son for humanity, that would cause these Native students to give so generously to me, with full enthusiasm.

While Jesus’ name was falsely used to slaughter the Natives and to oppress them for hundreds of years, it is the true Spirit of Jesus that will rise them up as leaders in this land, that will restore their dignity and authority, and that will bring reconciliation between us.

So on this Thanksgiving Day, I would like to say, I’m most thankful for my Native American brothers and sisters. I honor the Native Nations of America today and declare that you are no longer victims. You will no longer be the oppressed, but instead you will be the blessed, and as a result, you will be a blessing to all of us.

Sometimes the drug comparisons

Don’t rhyme with the fair-as-sun

Tissues of her heart.

Wacked and cracked,

Wrecked and rocked,

Drunk.

Messed up.

But within she can’t stand one ounce more of brandy,

And whatever hard liquor is supposed to violently ram

You hammered

Back into spirit land.

Whatever happened to

Loved.

She.

Doesn’t want an intense encounter,

Always riding on the next wave of banter

That’s expected to mount her

Up on the shoulders

To finally see over

The crowd around her.

She.

Doesn’t want the extremities

Of the newly boasted remedies

Of spiritual activities,

To finally be

The rarity

That will catch that eye.

That eye.

That’s what.

She wants.

That eye.

She couldn’t find that eye

From this guy or that guy.

But she needed that eye.

All these years, it was hide, hide, hide!

And her shame was a bright red flame of a letter,

That no matter how she tried,

She couldn’t hide,

What her heart cried for.

Hide, hide, hide! The voices unified.

That and that and that

All unfit for a Bride.

Don’t let them see the light.

You must be dignified.

But that and that and that,

Would not lay flat,

They squirmed

Like a kenneled cat.

One day

She simplified.

She went back

to He died.

He rose.

It’s certified.

And she looked and she nearly died

By the way she was eyed.

His eyes identified

That and that and that,

And said, I made them all in fact,

And all are my delight,

For all of you is glorified.

And a billion veins mangled deep inside

Were re-angled, re-opened, to let run

The blood that floods from his side.

She became the woman on the moon,

Who knows but only how to swoon

To the tune of,

I love you.

My Father!

He’s my mold’s potter,

And he thought up to make up

Me.

He gave me a heart like his fire.

And he gave me hair like my heart.

He could only treasure

What is truly precious,

With this infectious measure

Of his pure pleasure.

Don’t know if there ever

Has been a love like this.

Don’t know if I ever

Will get over it.

For my forever-now is electrified

By the way that I am eyed.

But, seriously, this whole via-the-internet and social-networking revolution is becoming distasteful.

I’m taking a technology class at FIDM. Its purpose is to make sure that, as young entrepreneurs, we stay up to date; that we ride that rapid wave of growing technology that surges faster than our earth rotates.

Our instructor shared last week how kids these days can’t sit in a classroom and retain information from a teacher writing on a board. Their whole world of interaction is 3D graphics, via the internet and gaming and television. So when they stare at a 2D board, they see nothing. Education needs to be reformed to offer technologically advanced teaching methods. And then I remembered that people these days don’t know how to read books because they have those….what are they called… Kindles (because everything in Virtual Land has a nifty name). As if reading from a flat board with a shiny screen could ever replace curling up in a chair and reading a good book. (And by book, I mean like, bound, with pages.)

Now all this makes me want to barf.

Not that I’m against technology or technological advancement. More like, I’m against a technological takeover of our world and our sense of being. When our social interactions, our leisure activities, our careers, all exist in Virtual Land. Does anyone else see that we are turning ourselves into video game characters? We are confusing the virtual world with the real world.

And the omnipresent voices of tech-savvy Apple guys and the Best Buy geek squad chime in: Now what’s so bad about that? (They go wherever the signal goes.)

Well, I’m glad you asked, dear tech-gods. Let me tell you what’s bad about that. In light of all the good things that the advancing internet world is offering us- greater efficiency, easily accessible information, the flattening of our globe, the conservation of energy, finances, and time- the internet is also offering us an escape from our reality and an estrangement from our earth.

For now, I will just hit the topic of relationship. Many of the social experiences that we have in Earth Land just aren’t the same in Virtual Land. In Virtual Land, I can exchange words with you. And if you Skype me in, I can exchange facial expressions with you. We can use these tools for good, to develop and maintain long-distance relationships in ways we couldn’t otherwise. Or we could use these tools for bad, and let them replace our everyday relationships. Virtual Land will never be able to replace Earth Land, where I can give you a hug. I can sit next to you in silence for several minutes and still enjoy your company. I can share entire life activities with you, go places with you, do things with you. I can get to know you, not just in your words and your expressions, but in your ways. I can get to know the way you walk, the way you interact in a group setting, the things of life that make you laugh; your quirks, and the way that you dance with life in your unique way of dancing. Somehow there is more intimacy in that than in reading your facebook profile interests and observing your color choices for your blog background.

I’m going to throw it out there: sometimes it’s easier to live in Virtual Land because of a fear of intimacy.

Virtual Land allows us to exist and be seen and understood in the way that we want to. It offers us this concept that we call “Profile.” It offers us a sense of Control. In Virtual Land, I can control the ways in which I am known and understood. I can think for several minutes before responding to a facebook post. I can make all my words and interactions spick and span, and funny and witty, and perfectly expressed. I can become socially flawless. I can maintain my reputation exactly as I see fit. And no one will ever know the real me.

There have been times (more than one), when I longed for social interaction, so I got on facebook, or shall I say, fakebook. No matter how many “friends” I exchanged words with, or photos I commented on, or “likes” I received (7 likes or more is always a score), I was always left with a sense of dissatisfaction afterward. As soon as my laptop clicked shut, it was all over, and none of it felt as if it had been real.

I still felt lonely. I still longed to be known. I still felt distanced. And I went to sleep with only the company of my own breath, reminding me of reality.

That’s when I would realize, if it’s community and relationship that I desire, I am going to have to spend real time with real people. Because it’s not just a fleeting exchange of words that I’m looking for. I’m looking for soul-to-soul expression. People are more than their fakebook comments. People are people, and they carry something in the physical atmosphere which doesn’t translate into the virtual atmosphere; they carry what some would call an aura. And we need to know one another in our auras. I know a lot of too-busy-to-talk people who are also very busy on fakebook. Maybe if we spent less time on fakebook, we would have more time for real soul exchange.

I almost deleted my fakebook account last night. I was trying to hang out with God, but I couldn’t even focus on our conversation, because my soul was literally raging mad at fakebook. I kept getting up to go delete my fakebook account, and every time I convinced myself out of it. I can’t very well delete my fakebook account because that would be like not having an email account. It would be inconvenient for everyone else who uses it to stay in touch with me.

So instead I made a pact with myself, and asked God to help me keep it. From now on, I will use the tools available on the internet for their good, healthy purposes. But I will not use them for my social life. My days of having a fakebook social life are over. Fakebook is a place for me to stay networked with distant friends and family (sort of like an address book), and to share and exchange ideas and creativity, and other convenient things like inviting people to events. But I will not allow Virtual Land to replace the rough-and-tumble, but always more rewarding, Earth Land. Who’s with me?

More to come about other reasons we should be cautious of the Virtual Land Takeover.

http://rebekkalien.wordpress.com/2011/11/11/111111-day-of-renewal-and-birth/

I was so expectant of a promised land that I failed to see I was already in one. I was waiting on so many promises from God. Good promises. Real promises. And I am still waiting fully expectant. The problem was, I was waiting to live. I was waiting for certain things to happen, deceived that those things were going to make me happy and make my life beautiful. I was so full of expectation for what was to come that I was blinded from the beauty of the present.

The truth is today is the Promised Land, yesterday was the Promised Land, and tomorrow is the Promised Land. If today is the day that God made, if God is working everything for my ultimate good, if God has a purpose for this season of my life, than today is good. I don’t want to miss out on it. Every day one thing is always sure. God is good and he’s up to good stuff.

Ultimately, today is the promised day because Jesus is here with me.

While the Future nagged at my Present, whispering, “I am better than you,” the Past joined in with the same lyric.

I came from a place in life where I had gotten used to the way things were and had grown to really like my life. I loved my city, Austin. I felt such a connection with the people there. It’s like I had found my culture. I loved the food, I loved the coffee shops, I loved the pace of life, and I loved the way people interacted, so open, so friendly.

And I loved my community. I had gotten to the place with the girls I lived with where being together felt the same as being alone because I could so completely be myself. My life became shared. It was part of a unit. I never did anything alone or independently. All my life decisions involved other people and the way it would affect them. I got used to living in unison with others, and I liked it.
It would have been easier to find that place of happiness in life and then never move on. It would have been safer to put to death my dream-life in order to preserve my present reality. But when we stop dreaming because of the fear of change, we are keeping ourselves from truly living the totality of life that we were meant to live. We are holding on to one little segment of life and missing out on the complete composition. If you played your favorite part of a song over and over, isolated from the rest of the song, eventually you would get bored of it and wonder why it was every your favorite part. But if you listened to the whole song from start to finish, the context surrounding that favorite segment would make it beautiful again. It’s the same way with life. God has crafted a glorious composition!

This past week, God taught me to surrender to now. Every day I wake up and am tempted to think, why should I even get out of bed? I have nothing to live for. (Now that is ridiculous.) I have plenty of incredible reasons to live every day. The real reason for my complaint is, things are not the way I want them to be.

I want what was. I want what I had at King St. Being lathered in spiritual family wherever I go.

I want to have the means to go to a coffee shop every day and do my homework there with my latte. I want to have the means to turn the heater on.

I want to be able to say hi to strangers on the street, and hear them say hello back. I want to be immersed in a culture that prioritizes sharing life instead of prioritizing personal goals and careers.

My heart is resistant to my circumstances in favor of a previous lifestyle.

People who understand me. Good things in life I enjoy. Comfort. Ease of social identity. These are the things I’ve had to give up. With all these things gone, it’s natural for my mind to react negatively to the kiss of sunlight each morning.

But every day when I wake up with that initial thought, Holy Spirit has taught me to refuse it and instead to surrender to him with thankfulness. And so I pray this simple prayer every morning: God, I say yes to today. Thank you for today. I surrender to everything you have for me today. Then I begin to think ahead to what my day will look like and to surrender to it and to thank him for it. That’s when it hits me.

It was all an illusion. The idea that my life was less than perfect. And I am filled with pure joy!

You see, it’s not like God is just stripping things away so that I will get my priorities straight. There are times when he does that, but I think they are less than we think. God is usually a lot nicer than we think. And I know my Father trusts me with good things because he knows that he is my priority. He is the one gracing me with making him my priority. So he has no fear to give me all the good things of life.

So what is God doing? Something profoundly beautiful. He is helping me to discover new life.

Growing up in the upper middle class, I learned to experience and enjoy life through particular sources. Entertainment. Comfort. Freedom. These are completely valid things to enjoy. God likes them and gives them for our pleasure. But having these things stripped away, I have discovered life through other sources. (Side-note: the only source of true life is Jesus. Only by sourcing out of him first can we fully enjoy the physical sources of life that he provides.) This is incredibly exciting.

My new sources: Creativity. Action. And the little things.

Creativity. When you don’t have much, you are forced to be creative with what you do have. Rather than seeing this as a burden, to me this is a gift. Creating is my favorite thing to do in the whole world, and it always has been since I was little. God has given me the most awesome gift of having to be creative all day everyday. It’s so much fun!

For example, I couldn’t go to a coffee shop to study because I couldn’t afford to buy coffee. I was totally bummed. Well, creativity kicked in and I decided to work with what I had. I had a lovely little house. I was going to have to study in my house (God forbid). So I decided to make my house into a pleasant studying environment. I created a little work/study area in front of one of the lovely windows. I spent half a day rearranging the living room and dining room until it was aesthetically satisfying. And now I am very much enjoying working in my lovely little house.

Also I couldn’t afford to eat out. I was going to have to make every single meal. What a tragedy! (I’m teasing myself.) But you know what, I have gotten used to this and I think I like it better! I’m eating much better and eating only foods that I prefer. Every week I discover a new food I like, and it’s like heaven has rained manna, the joy is just unbelievable. The most recent food is cous-cous. I could eat it breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I could eat bowls and bowls of it, with nothing else added. It’s so damn good! Actually every time I pray, I end up spending way too much time thanking God for cous-cous. I would never have discovered how good it was if I had kept grabbing tacos from the closest taco shack.

Entertainment-wise, I have also learned to be creative. In the time I set aside for enjoyment of life, I have found great joy in things like composing music, taking walks, and chatting with my roommate. These small things end up being much more entertaining than what we call entertainment. I laugh a lot more about everyday situations. I find more things to be funny.

Action. God has been teaching me to get up and do something. It sounds like common sense. But yes, it is something I have had to learn. For me, action is a form of embracing my life. Non-action is a form of denial. It is my self-inflicted pity-party. It is my searching for some kind of life outside of my reality. It is sitting around refusing to move because I’m not satisfied and I want things to change. Getting up and doing something helps me make a mind switch. It’s my way of sucking it up and accepting life. It’s the realization that I have something to contribute to the world, that there is a way for me to make the most of my time. And joy always comes with it. I have discovered a profound truth: It’s fun to do things. It’s ok. Take your time. Ponder it. It’s very deep.

The little things. With the absence of sensational things, the little things in life have become my treasures. I was taking the bus home from downtown, and a Latina woman came and sat next to me. Immediately my heart erupted with God’s love for her. I just had to talk to her, even though it’s socially abnormal to talk to someone on the bus. Well, turned out she couldn’t speak English, but the few words that we did exchange, we both smiled and laughed and enjoyed each other with the mutual assertion that we were friends. She pulled out her phone and showed me pictures of her kids and bragged about them in Spanish. I didn’t understand her, and yet I did in the way that the hearts of women communicate. When it was time for me to get off, we hugged each other. That was the most pleasant and real heart-exchange of my day, even though I had spent whole day at FIDM with people who speak the same language as I do. With the absence of distractions, these little moments of loving one to another have become even more precious to me.

I challenge all my readers to re-analyze your Present. Look hard for the blessings. Keep your eye out for the treasures. Let God show you why your Now is a promised land. Choose thankfulness instead of complaint. Focus on what you do have, not on what you don’t. And most importantly, find your greatest joy from within, where you are wholly loved by the good God.

What are you thankful for today?

JESUS LOVES ME!!!!!

Jesus loves me.

He so ridiculously loves me.

Can I tell you how much he loves me?

He didn’t have to. He didn’t owe me anything. But he wanted to give me the dreams of my heart. He wanted to make me happy. He sent me off to Los Angeles because he wanted to make me incredibly happy and content in him. I get to do what I love to do- design, imagine, and create. I get to step outside every day to the best weather in the world. I get to live in a quaint little house with arched windows and wood floors and a 1920s stove, and an oasis of a courtyard. I get to eat granola, flax seed, and almond milk every morning, and drink dark black coffee. I get to live in the raddest neighborhood. I get to hear the sound of kids playing and babies crying outside my window. I get to live with a crazy, artsy roommate who always brightens my day. I get to go to a Sufjan Stevens concert next week! And I get to be me all the time and say off-the-wall things, and Jesus likes me and thinks I’m funny.

JESUS LOVES ME!

And in case you are thinking to yourself, well hmm-dee-hmm-hmm, not to judge, but it seems you are basing your understanding of Jesus’ love for you on your circumstances… hehehe, I will have you know:

Everything in my life has been shaken. There is nothing left for me to hold onto. I have no money. I have no signs of assurance for the future. I have no job, though I’ve been applying.  I have nowhere to go for Thanksgiving. I have none of my expectations for what I would have in LA by now. I have none of God’s promises for my life here, in manifested natural form. I have no influence, no position of honor, no recognition. And what do I have? A couple unpaid parking tickets, and a car that has developed an unhealthy addiction to getting broken so that it can hang out in the shop. And allergies.

But I am thankful, so very thankful! I am so thankful because I have everything I need and everything that matters. I have the face of my Father in heaven. Oh the face of my Father. I love him, and I love his face. He is always looking at me overjoyed and overwhelmed with love. And I love him so much back. He always tells me the kindest things. He always surprises me with how good he is. He makes me the happiest little kid.

And I have the face of my roommate. She is my sister, and we will be friends forever.

I have the love and devotion of people all over the country and all over the world. And I know their love for me is unbreakable because it is from God.

I have God. I have people. I have love. I have everything.

And I’m not saying that all martyr-y. You know what I’m talking about. Like, oh woe is me, my life is hell, but I’ll suck it up and pretend to have joy because I know I’m supposed to. Not like that. And not like, oh look at poor suffering miserable me, the afflicted one, who is thankful anyway, yet still afflicted. Not like that either. (I am far from being afflicted, haha.)

Rather, in fact, I am blessed. Truly blessed. Newsflash. Blessed feels like blessed. I feel blessed. I feel like the luckiest girl in the world. I cannot describe the OUT-OF-PROPORTION unmeasured BUCKETS of love that Jesus is pouring over my head.

The purpose of this post is to point out how great and powerful his love is.

That even in the desert places, even in the testings, even in the persecutions, even in places of desperation, disappointment, and confusion, even when I can’t afford to buy a latte when I want one really badly… he awakens his children with joy every morning, and puts them to sleep with peace every night.

Dear Jesus, thanks for everything.

And thank you for the sweet potato fries my roommate just brought me. This is getting extravagant.