An explanation..

A while back ago, I posted a poem/song that I've now come to find out was rather depressing and frightening to some people close to me.

Know this: I am not suicidal nor depressed, and never have been.

But I am a girl. Who struggles with the way people view her, with loneliness, with feelings of unworthiness.

I often write championing the cause of waiting and letting God be the one to fill the void in our lives. But the thing is, I can write all I want, and still not believe it myself.

I struggle! I'm human! I'm not perfect.

And the devil knows this. He knows my weaknesses. Those feelings of unworthiness, the fear of being alone. And he knows exactly how to play them.

I purposely was vague in that post, not wanting to offend or cause guilt to some friends of mine. You see, I spoke of prom.

Prom.

Oh the feelings of dread and joy associated with that word. An American tradition gone horribly awry.

You see, no one had asked me to go to the prom.

Now, many people might say "Just go with your friends as a group!" And many people did say that. But to me, and perhaps I was seeing a little too deeply into this, prom wasn't about the party. It wasn't about the limos, the dresses, the music.

It was about being asked. Asked to dance. Considered worthy enough to be asked.

And I wasn't asked. I didn't go. And I didn't dance.

That night I sat at home listening to depressing music, watching pictures of prom go up on facebook, and all I could think was, "Why didn't they ask...? What kept them from asking me...? Am I so undesirable to have as a date?"

And I forgot what mattered the most. I forgot how I had encouraged so many young girls to wait through highschool to date. I forgot my own commitment to wait. I forgot about the one God has waiting for me. I forgot about the ONE above who was quietly whispering, "I already asked."

And instead, I wrote that song. I vented my grief and despair over never having another prom (for I graduate this week) to go to, never being asked to dance. I let Satan have his way with my weaknesses. I let him manipulate those feelings of loneliness and unworthiness and that seeped in through the pictures on facebook, my friends innocent comments, their unconscious actions.

How could they have known? But I blamed them. And wallowed that night.

Yet the song has two lines at the end that "go up". Maybe. But they weren't heartfelt. They were done out of obligation to keep up the profile, the image people had known me for.

So why do I write this?

I write this to show that even those who proclaim to be strong and untouchable, those who seem perfect and we put on a pedastool... we're not immune.

That night God brought several girls online to talk to me. Each one had been touched by what I wrote and I was able to be ministered by them! and to them. I saw, and they saw, that we are not alone. And by that, one lie was conquered. Loneliness.

I went to my writers forum, and in the midst of my tears, God brought out a batch of "thank yous". Fellow brothers in Christ thanked me for being an example of a heart for the Lord and for the love God had given me for them. And with that, another lie was conquered. Unworthiness.

What Satan meant for evil, God meant for His glory.

Amen and Amen.

Oh, death, where is your sting?

Let no one caught in sin remain
Inside the lie of inward shame
We fix our eyes upon the cross
And run to Him who showed great love

And bled for us
Freely You've bled for us

Christ is risen from the dead
Trampling over death by death
Come awake, come awake
Come and rise up from the grave

Christ is risen from the dead
We are one with Him again
Come awake, come awake
Come and rise up from the grave

Beneath the weight of all our sin
You bowed to none but Heaven's will
No scheme of Hell, no scoffer's crown
No burden great can hold You down

In strength You reign
Forever let Your church proclaim

Christ is risen from the dead
Trampling over death by death
Come awake, come awake
Come and rise up from the grave

Christ is risen from the dead
We are one with Him again
Come awake, come awake
Come and rise up from the grave

O death, where is your sting?
O hell, where is your victory?
O church, come stand in the light
The glory of God has defeated the night

Sing it, o death, where is your sting?
O hell, where is your victory?
O church, come stand in the light
Our God is not dead, He's alive, He's alive

Christ is risen from the dead
Trampling over death by death
Come awake, come awake
Come and rise up from the grave

Christ is risen from the dead
We are one with Him again
Come awake, come awake
Come and rise up from the grave

Christ is risen from the dead
Trampling over death by death
Come awake, come awake
Come and rise up from the grave

Christ is risen from the dead
We are one with Him again
Come awake, come awake
Come and rise up from the grave
Rise up from the grave

Good Friday

"I see you there hanging on a tree
You bled and then you died and then you rose again for me
Now you are sitting on Your heavenly throne
Soon we will be coming home
You're beautiful, you're beautiful

When we arrive at eternity's shore
Where death is just a memory and tears are no more
We'll enter in as the wedding bells ring
Your bride will come together and we'll sing
You're beautiful, You're beautiful, You're beautiful."
-You're Beautiful by Phil Wickham

A cry..

Tonight I'm on my own.

No one has asked me to dance.

There are no men to take me,

nor any friends willing.

I am alone and I cry out. I want to dance! I want to be chosen!

But none do.

It's the last time.

Before I know it the days will have passed.

And the chance to go is gone.

Beyond my reach and unattainable.

I am alone and I cry out. I want to dance! I want to be chosen!

Will anyone choose me?

Everyone leaves, in their pretty little couples.

Dressed to the nines, flowers in hand.

They post smiling pictures, sharing their experience.

An experience I'll never have.

I am alone and I cry out! I want to dance! I want to be chosen!

Please! Does anyone want me?

I'm told they don't deserve me.

That it'll be boring.

Does the location, the music, matter?

I just want someone to want me. To choose me.

I am alone and I cry out! I want to dance! I want to be chosen!

No one chooses me.

They are oblivious to the wounds it inflicts.

Their smiling faces and photographs.

Unconscious that of the way

All this brings up old scars.

I am alone and I cry out! I want to dance! I want to be chosen!

No one thinks to ask me.

I am vanilla pudding.

The girl next door.

Everyone's friend.

Why would they ask me?

I am alone and I cry out! I want to dance! I want to be chosen!

What keeps me from being chosen?

The chance comes and goes.

The dresses are put away.

I go to the dinner alone,

No one by my side.

I am alone and I cry out. I wanted to chance, but I wasn't chosen.

I am abandoned.

These years are nearly up.

Yet I've never once been asked.

The pain gets buried again,

And these wounds are never healed.

I am alone and I cry out for you! Where are you? The prince of my stories?

Why haven't you come?

How much longer do I have to wait?

Wait to be asked?

Would you even ask?

Would you even dance?

I am alone, waiting for you. Come fast, come quick. My heart wearies.

Are you on the horizon?

But I wait.

Cheeks tear-stained and eyes blurred.

Dearest, Darling, My Love.

Ask me to dance.

Join me, heal me, sooth the wounds and chase away the fears. Come blessed by love and The Almighty.

Answer my cry.

An Apology

To the men in my life, and those who know me by name and sight:

I have an apology to make to you. I have not put you first.

I have deliberately ignored the fact that guys look at me daily, the fact that I have an impact on those around me, the fact that the way I dress can influence it all.

I'm sorry for not viewing you as a brother in Christ, and for causing you to stray or stumble.

I'm sorry for dressing in a way that is relieving, distracting, and immodest.

I have instead sought what was comfortable or looked popular in magazines. I gave no thought to how much skin was showing, what would happen if I bent over, if i was revealing something that should be saved for my husband.

And by doing so, I am at fault. I have seen you as an object to please, to receive attention from, and to show off to.

I am so, so sorry.

You are my brothers in Christ. Worthy of the respect and love that comes with consciously acting and dressing in a way that only furthers your respect for women, your sisters in Christ, and God himself. I should be doing my best to lead you on a higher path, on without shame or lust. One of purity and virtue.

So I ask you to forgive me. For any outfit, act, or word that has had negative consequences in your life.

It is my goal to only further your walk with your Maker and to enhance the spiritual beauty of other sisters in Christ, that respect might be the first thing in your mind, instead of physicality.

Today I have been convicted and I stand before you with sorrow for what I have done. But I look to the future with hope, and I pray you do too.

To be...

A while back I was asked what kind of woman I want to be. And frankly, I've thought about it here and there, but when I actually sat down to write it, I was surprised at how much like my mother I want to be. So here's to you Mumsie, for raising a daughter that could only wish to live in your shadow.

"I've always wanted to be an "artsy" person, and considering I've already achieved that, :P I hope to have it transferred into several aspects of my life.

I want to be the kind of wife/woman who decorates her home and her life with color, joy, and a love for all things living. I like the color green, because it represents living things. It's vibrant and clean.

I want to use it all throughout my home.

But I also want to BE green. Sorry if that's cheesy, but I see no reason with using fewer chemicals and rating organically.

I want to be healthy and fit, spontaneous and playful for my husband.

I want to cook for and with him, take long walks and have tickle fights.

I want to do little things for him all day long that brighten his day.

I want to cherish, honor, and respect him.

I want to have a big family and raise my children inter fear and admonition of the Lord.

I want them to be free to be themselves.

I want them to not have to live the way I did middle school, obsessed with what people thought of me, and whether or not I was worthy.

I want to show them what an amazing gift each if them are in the sight of the Lord and their parents.
I want to bake home made bread like mom.

I want to have a bug herb garden.

I want to have picnics in the backyard for no reason.

I want to build tents with all the quilts.

I want to let my little girls go out to eat in tutus and feather boas.

I want to make mud pies with my little boys.

I want to take then to reenactments and see then run around in breeches and petticoats.

I want to be what mom is to me: my closest confidant and biggest encourager.

I want to write stories for their bedtimes and stay up late with them drinking cocoa and reading books on Christmas.

I want to have family game nights that end with entire family pillow fights.

I want to serve, my church, my community, my world. I want to be a woman that gives, gives, and gives again.

I want to instill that passion for missions into my kids, and show them how much God loves his people.

I want to have a constantly full cookie jar.

I want music to be constantly playing. Whether I'm singing at the top of my lungs (and horribly out of tune) or someone playing an instrument.

I want dirty footprints and cotton curtains, open doors and windows, and jars full of butterflies.

I want to my children to know the Lord at a young age, and to LIVE their faith from a young age, and to not have waited to let the Lord do something in their lives until they were "older".

I might homeschool, I might not. But whatever I do, I want my kids to know their faith and to be fearless and to stand up for what they believe.

I want to the mother that all my kids' friends love and hang out at my house.

I want to be crazy in love with my husband and to wake up every morning to his face.

I want to spend time with him in the morning on the back porch, watching the sunrise, drinking my tea and digging deep in His word.

I'm an idealist, and I don't want the picket fence, but I want my country cottage and a man who lives the Lord and me, and children who follow the example of their father.

I want to love, be loved, and give love."

A Rant on Perfection

Recently, I had the privilege, okay maybe the vexation, of having several conversations on a certain male pop star around the age of 16. Now, I won't name any names in deference to my mother, and certain fanatic friends.

But I have a problem to pick with this guy. The problem is, he claims to be a Christian. And yet, in several interviews, his stand on specific values championed by other Christians is far from the mark.

Don't get me wrong. I have nothing against the fella's musical ability (although I don't happen to like his genre per se). I applaud the guy (in an age of Hannah Montana's and Jonas Brothers) for being yet another 12 year old crush inducer and still having the gumption to make a 3-d movie. Bravo. And yes, he should've won the New Artist of the Year award for the...um...whatever it was.

Until someone said something that got under my skin.

"Well, you can't expect him to be perfect!"

I can't? Isn't that what Christ expects of us....? Now, tell me if I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure that we are all held to a standard of perfection by God Almighty. We are to strive daily to meet that.

You tell me that I'm not perfect. That no one can meet that standard. Right you are.

We are flawed. All humankind, from the moment of the Fall has been flawed. We can't be perfect. At least, not on our own. God has given us a standard as Christians to constantly fight to be. But we can't without Christ.

And in a young man who claims to be a Christian...I don't see this at all.

If your heart's desire is to be a man or woman fully devoted at following after your Lord, otherwise known as a Christian, perfection should be your goal! When young people in the media make a claim that may or may not be true in order to garner more fans or become "okay" with parents of tweens, this isn't true faith! We see what we want to! Another role model who's values are wishy washy and who's music is safe.

But for how long?

When another teen pop icon dropped her supposed "Christian girl" image for one of blatant pornagraphic suggestiveness, I lost my faith in teen pop icons. If this is the image the world has of us, no wonder they look down. We are represented by a generation of weak-minded teenagers who's only care is their reputation. Not the Lord's.

I am sick and tired of people supporting a standard so far below the one that is outlined in the Word.

I admit. I am a flawed, sinful, wretched sinner. I can't sing worth a wit. I have no talent for dancing on stage in front of thousands. I can't become a boy magnet by flaunting what little body I have.

When I see a young person finally stand up, stake their claim as a Christian, perform, proclaim their values, and then campaign for them, THEN, and only then, will I support them.

True Christians live out their faith, and strive for perfection. All the others give wishy washy answers in Rolling Stones and settle for "good enough".