Ok World, Let's Be Better: Hidden Male Depression

Photo credit Vincent Giordano/
Trinacria Photography

Yet another web famous, "well-adjusted," happy teenager commits suicide. When I see titles like this, I can't help but be concerned. The CDC reports that suicide is the third leading cause of death among people aged 10-24 in the US, 4,600 young people a year, and 81% of these deaths are males. We are failing teenage boys. Something needs to change.

As a teacher of literature, I feel like I have a relatively opportunistic stance in the education of young people: through literature we can wrestle with social and emotional issues that the media sometimes portrays as black and white and make things a little complicated. Classically feminist readings are sometimes the most advantageous places to promote gender discussion.

The Child Study Centre reports that by 13 years, twice as many girls as boys are clinically depressed and tend to stay that way till adulthood. An Oxford University study, further, found that while women are 40% more likely to develop depression than men, they are also 75% more likely to report having been recently depressed and 60% more likely to report an anxiety disorder.

These conflicting statistics beg the question: how well do we really know how our boys feel?

Boys, young men, older men, they are sensitive and emotive, sometimes behind an exterior of lackadaisical indifference, anti-social behavior, or, so it seems, a restless splash of happiness.

While gender-concerned groups have worked to make it safe for women to like science and maths, found non-pink and biologically accurate barbies, dolls, and other toys, and made the world a safer place for trans-gender children, boys have often born the brunt of the media disdain, being either ignored or chastened for their (boy)sterous, wild behavior and non-pc language, being proffered as potentially abusive, both physically and sexually, and more often than not, set up as a societal villain.

The hashtag #noteveryman sparked outrage in 2014 when men pushed back against allegations that "men are..."

Yet as men are villainized in the media around the world, (and sometimes rightly so), have we been offering boys any alternative to the guns-blazing, super-hero motif that we've been offering them? While I want our boys to see strong, complicated characters, with weaknesses and struggles, and ALSO integrity, I also want them to feel like they can make mistakes and search there hearts for answers. I want them to know that they are not inherently bad, and that they have a lot to offer the world.

Are we living in a world that doesn't offer them any way out of either the "badass" motif or the "nice guy" motif? I would say that the evidence doesn't seem to imply this.

We need to do better, for women, yes, who more often than not tend to be victims in our world, but also for our boys, and our men, who have the same sensitive hearts, anxieties, fears, and sadness, and who are much, much less likely to tell anyone about it until it's too late.

2014 Year in Review: Lessons in Faith and Humility

Dear Fabulous Family and Friends, 

As many of you know, I like to round out the year reflecting and scraping out the lessons my heart has learned this year... No matter how boring or busy or tedious a month is, I'm convinced that I have grown and learned at least one thing every month of the year. Many of my friends are saying goodbye to 2014 with a wave and a kick in the pants, happy to see this difficult year gone. If I were going to whiddle my year down to a few mantras, they might be: rest when you can, just keep swimming, appreciate the small things, God will provide. 

Let me explain: 

January: 2014 started with me feeling low and sad because I didn't get to see my family at Christmas. This is the first and only time I have not seen my family at Christmas and I'm perfectly happy never to do it again. Nevertheless, I started out NYE with some amazing London Friends and was actually out at a pub dancing to some awesome DJs :) Later in the month, St. Lukes held their birthday party and I swing danced into 2014.
When I got into the swing of things at work in February I'd taken on a bit of a new post that involved collaborating with a neighboring school. While I really enjoyed the experience and we're repeating the program this year, collaborating is difficult when both parties are very busy. I'm learning more to let myself rely on others and join into partnerships and not just do everything on my own.

In March I started learning about opening my heart up for the possibility of love. The efficient woman in me was tired. Letting others love me was important. Being busy isn't an excuse to turn off your heart. Which was sort of important because around the same time I met a man who struck my fancy and we've become very good friends.

April had to be the highlight of my year -- my really good friend Kristin got married, Brittany came up for the wedding, and all my best friends were together for a short amazing time of staying up late making brownies in cups, bride manicures, dance parties to Shakira radio, and culminating with a "30th birthday party" for me as a surprise 3 months early and with my family.

May became the month that I got very verbal about everyone else's accomplishments as a way to foster community and progress. I nominated a friend for a teaching award and she won. Writing the teaching bio for her brought me to tears and even though I couldn't be there on the awards ceremony night, I realized the importance of shouting about other people's accomplishments and not just our own.

In June I turned 30 and had an epic birthday party in the park with water balloons. I also really let down my housemates by needing to write a paper the weekend we moved house and not really doing my share of the moving and cleaning. Sometimes series of events happen that lead to you letting other people down and all you can do is try your hardest, ask for forgiveness, and try to be better. I'm rarely on the "letting people down" side of this lesson in humility and it was good for me. Thankfully my housemates are forgiving, lovely people.

Speaking of lovely people, in July I attended language school in Faro, Portugal for two weeks and stayed at a beautiful, friendly hostel. I thought about my purpose in life a lot... I feel a pull to work with Brazil and learn Portuguese, but this man in my life is UK based. Going to language school seemed to reaffirm my passion and commitment, though with my Master's degree, I will also admit that I haven't practiced since July (hanging head in shame).

August brought old friends to London as my housemates and I hosted a slew of friends. My high school bestie, Jenny Moore, and Brazilian buddy, Tiago, came to stay with me and I massively enjoyed their company. The world is full of kindred spirits and that definitely makes it a friendlier, happier, lovelier place to be. If you need to travel, crash at someone's house #fosho.

September brought exam data analyzation panic at school and pretty much every time I speak to the Head Teacher Ofsted, the government inspectors, are mentioned. While I appreciate that she's #keepingitreal and also trying to keep the staff positive, #thestruggleisreal. What I've learned is that there is not a lot that cannot be weathered with a can-do attitude. Meanwhile, God has continued to bless my program and all of my students did really well. I've been getting a lot of positive recognition in my career, though I'm not sure what to do with it really. I started the second year of my 2.5 year Masters degree program and I've mostly been keeping my head down, trying to stay positive, and #justkeepswimming.

Once October started and we caught our breath from the start of the year, we realized that in 2 months we'd taken in almost as many new students in 2 months as we did ALL LAST YEAR. While the government keeps adjusting their policies and our team is trying to roll with the punches, all I kept seeing is the end of Beauty and the Beast... Belle has gone back to help her father and the villagers are attacking... Beast sits up in his room moping when various pieces of enchanted furniture come in to tell him to brace for an attack. In an attitude of resigned despair, he retorts "Let them come..." Ofsted is changing their policies... "Let them come." We're getting 75 new students in 2.5 months... "Let them come." Your classes are overflowing and we need to keep changing the class lists and schedule. "Let them come." #justkeepswimming became the mantra of my life.

By the time November got here, and I started to lose my mind, my church had a great worship night and the words of Jesus to Martha have been ringing in my head ever since. "You are worried and anxious about many things, but only one thing is needed." I need Jesus... not to help me... not just to save me... I just need him. To be with him. To be in his presence. And you know what? Everything else happened as well. The days I was too busy to go grocery shopping, my housemate just happened to be making a lovely dinner I could partake in. I was provided for. I could return the favor when I was having a light week. When my to do list starts to swirl in my mind, these verses often come back to me. I am not a teacher to get things done, but to love, educate, and support children. I can't control if inspectors are coming or if they "see" my classroom and children the way I do. I can't control how many children need my services, but if they are there, they are my responsibility and, frankly, my pleasure to educate, even if I'm tired and understaffed.

As December descended upon me I was tired. I have learned that I don't have to do everything. God will provide not only for me, but for everyone else as well. God sometimes chooses NOT to use me to provide for everyone else. I helped organize Angel Tree at my church this year (as I've done for 3 years), but pulled back from my other voluntary commitments. Yes, I miss doing it. Yes, I get twinges of guilt. But part of balancing the seasons of life you experience is knowing what to say yes and no to. I could give one epic day wrapping 150 presents for Angel Tree, I could not give weekly time commitments like I had been. When my Masters degree is over, I can prayerfully consider what to go for again. Everyone has 24 usable hours of everyday, but not more. God will provide for others what I can't do for them today. I am limited. God is not.

Last year God tried to tell me that others would still love me even if I wasn't perfect and serving them all the time. I feel like this year was proof of that. I messed up. I let go. I was unavailable. And people reached out to me in love when I needed it and I got to see how loved I am. Doing an MA while working full time at a very demanding job isn't something I would recommend to anyone, but I felt like I was called to do it and I've enjoyed my learning and I've also grown a lot personally and professionally.

God has also provided small moments of solace for me: delightful, cheerful housemates; early morning sunrise bike rides, friends and family who check in and love on me with their presence and encouragement and prayers. I am very blessed. I will continue to try to pass on that blessing to everyone I meet.


Thank you, awesome church family, St. Lukes. Thank you amazing housemates (Martin, Paula, Dizzi). Thank you fabulous friends who are too numerous to name. Thank you family who gets me and lets me be me. Thank you supportive and encouraging co-workers.

The words from the communion liturgy just came into my mind:
The Lord is here.
His Spirit is with us.
It is right to give him thanks and praise. <3 p="">
As a side note, I've been posting Bible verses and quotes that stand out to me at this tumblr.

Ok 2015, come and get me. I'm ready.

My Other Half

“According to Greek mythology, humans were originally created with 4 arms, 4 legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves.” ― Plato

People who say that Eastern philosophy is dead in the West need to check out our attitudes of love and romance. Everywhere you go ideas of "incomplete", "better half," "significant other," "partner," and now even "relationship synergy" abound. Millions of people have taken to dating websites, marriage websites, and I believe that now 1-8 marriages found each other online. WOW. Yin and Yang philosophies abound, that the dichotomy of man and woman (or woman/woman, man/man) is a balance that exists for a reason, that we complete and fulfill one another, and that being alone is bad.

In the age of internet quiz mania (which I absolutely love btw), we can find our Disney Prince, discover Your Celebrity Boyfriend, (I could go on, alas, but I won't.)

Even more embedded in the Chinese philosophy of balance and embodying yin and yang is the dragon and the phoenix. Traditionally also representing the Emperor and his Empress, the dragon embodies justice, power, and all things masculine. The phoenix, on the other hand, is mercy, healing, grace and other traditionally feminine virtues.

While internet quizzing may not be the way forward, now, more than ever, society is studying human cultures, impulses, drives, talents, and voices. We want to know about the experiences of different races, religions, sexes, genders, (I could go on). But often one voice that is always heard with sarcasm and derision is the voice of the celibate. The voice of people who have chosen to forego sex, to not seek for balance within a partner, but within themselves. I do acknowledge that many couples don't adhere to the "complete me" mentality; however, I still find it as a default attitude in many people and cultures that I encounter.

So as a single almost-30, I've been lauded for my hard work and prowess, and derided for being "too independent," "too clever," and even been told "men like women who need them." And while I didn't give into those taunts that I'd be single forever unless I toned down my independence, a part of me bought the dichotomy philosophy, and I focused on being the phoenix: I became gentle, I invested in people, I worked on my care giving, I improved my listening techniques.

None of that is wrong. There is nothing wrong with gentleness, peace-making, listening, mentoring, etc. It's to be applauded wherever it is found. The mistake I made was within myself to say, "I'm the phoenix, I take care of people and sometimes others take advantage of me, so I need a dragon... someone who will stop others from taking advantage, protect me, support me. Someone I can nurture and heal."

Being a martyr and letting people take advantage of your gentleness isn't being a phoenix. Waiting for someone to rescue you isn't a good thing. Sometimes us single girls have to rescue ourselves. So now that I've developed the phoenix in me, (and my inner dragon has laid dormant for a while) I need to get back to developing the dragon. For me, this does not mean being masculine, but walking the line of grace and justice. Forgive people, but let them know they hurt you. Invest in others, but not at the sacrifice of your own health and well being. For me, this also means that I've started taking jiu jitsu classes.

One of my passions is educating the more forlorn members of the world. My dream is to move to Brazil and work with street children and ex-prostitutes. Every person I've talked to about this has mentioned how dangerous Brazil can be. While the Brazilian people I've met are generous and loving, many Brazilian women have told me horror stories of misogyny in their country. While a lot of men are now standing with women for women's rights, there are still men who feel entitled to prey on women. More often than not this happens in developing cultures. Like the people I most want to reach. So should I wait for a man to marry me and join in on my quest? #Ain'tnobodygottimeforthat. No. I'll take jiu jitsu and hone my self defense skills. I'll read up on the risks and dangers of this part of the world--I'll invest in the dragon part of myself.

Proverbs 27:17 says "As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another." 

While this verse has been adopted in many marriage ceremonies, the original context was living in community. Being friends and family with others. I love this verse because it shows the importance of being in relationships with others without implying deficiency. Iron is iron, regardless of other iron being around: a sword, a shield, a knife, a spear. Whatever tool or instrument you are, YOU are YOU, whole and complete, just as you are. The other iron--the partner, friend, family member, community--they make you better than you were before, but don't complete you. Yes, we all have tendencies and personality traits in any number of psychologically and emotionally measurable rubrics, but we don't have to wait around for the right people to come around to balance us out. We can see and know ourselves and balance ourselves out. This way, we're giving our communities, our partners, our friends and family even more of the good in ourselves--we aren't expecting others to be what we need them to be in order to be what we are. So take a deep breath, drink in peace in the knowledge that you, all by yourself, are whole, complete, and awesome. Good talk. High five!

Psalm 139: 14 "I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; that I know very well."

The Whistle

I heard it today. The whistle. I was just coming up the stairs to go to bed and I heard it... it wasn't the right tune of course, but I was curious. Who else would whistle on my street, outside my window loud enough that I could hear it half-way down my stairs? Silly single-paned windows. But even though I looked outside with half-hearted earnest (I was prepared for no one to be standing there), a twinge twisted in the sinews of my heart for just a moment and I remembered my little bird, and I missed him.

My little bird... but you are always everywhere. The chasm of everything we don't say to each other keeps filling up because words... words are too small for what we're feeling right now. Most of the time I can  hold in all the words: the moments I wanted to tell you about, the thoughts I had about the book, the film, the smile, the strange encounter - it's been months, but I still have the urge to tell you everything. When I don't think I can take it anymore, and I feel like all the words I'm holding back are going to burst out of me like emotional bulimia, I come here to twist my purging into some weird art.

My little bird... I still see your smile, hear your laugh; I still wonder what you would think about things, the recipe I'm trying, the outfit I'm wearing... would I see a crinkled nose? Would you throw your head back in your enthusiastic way and laugh heartily - I do miss your laugh... it was just like you: genuine and straight from the heart.

Please don't think I don't understand... I do. You see, my heart is lying to me... she's telling me that you could be the most important person in my life, and me to you... she's telling me that we're wasting so much time being apart - if we really love each other, we'll never get these moments back. But she's wrong - what's happening now in our hearts, in our minds, in our lives - these things are important right now. These things are forming us, even this terrible distance, even imagining my little bird outside my window, even understanding that we need this time apart... these things are important. I have to believe this, even if it turns out not to be true, I'm going to believe it because it's terrifying to think that one person not being in my life could ruin my life. Could I give anyone that much power? Not that I'm impervious - oh no - you have power, influence... a lot of it, my dear, but even you won't leave my life a ruin. How could you? You've only done positive things in my heart; only tore down ruins and rebuilt encouragement and love... these edifices stand intact: no ruin here, I assure you.

So I tell myself over and over: you will have all the time you need. And I believe it. And I hope.

So please hope too... the words aren't coming because I'm afraid I'd drown you in the deluge and right now prudence is needed. One day will be a day for words; for now, silence and hope and heart-wrenching little whistles that are not my bird outside my window.  

I am afraid of you now ...

Yes, you... I guess I always have been, somewhere. People always seem terrified of the ones they love best. The ones who have nuzzled down into your heart and you know if they came out you would bleed to death. Wow. That sounds dramatic.

I am afraid of you so I sit in silence and listen to your silence and the space of everything we're not saying and yet I cannot feel that you do not love me.

All of the actions, inactions, nonactions... the nothing that is between us now: most people would say let go - it's clear he's gone. He doesn't want anything to do with you. He doesn't love you anymore. But there is this heart string attaching us... a tiny wire made of ether running straight from the tip of my aorta to yours... and it says to hold on. This little voice inside me whispers to me "Don't let go."

So I can't manage to cut the string.

But I am afraid of you when I see you online. Afraid of it's instantaneousness. I would reach out and you would KNOW and I would know that you knew, and you would know that I knew that you knew... and in that moment of too much knowing, the string might snap.

No. No. It's better this way. I will send you letters very seldom. There's so much safety in letters. They can get lost in the mail. They can be misplaced. I cannot know that you got them, or aren't sleeping with them under your pillow, or aren't crying into them with devotion... I can't know, and because I can't know...

hope can exist there in that space - the space between everything we feel, everything we want to say and the nothing that we communicate.

I can't tell you how long I will have hope... you see, the string is there, and I can feel your heart still thumping even if the connection is bad - it's there.

I can't tell you if the string will be pulled out, if the wind will whip it suddenly, if birds will nest on it and weigh it down, if in a fiery rage I'll rip my own chest open and dislodge you from my heart where you've nested.

They say love is a choice - but honestly, I don't feel very choosy right now. There was the cute guy on the train - witty, helpful - there was the cute, new guy at church, the man making eyes at me on the train - my eyes glazed over with boredom... I'm sure they're lovely men, but my string is attached only to you. I considered the possibilities, I reasoned with myself "It's been months... why not try something new? You don't seem sad - this could be great for you!" And yet, I don't want them. I don't want them... If love is a choice, I feel like I've already signed my name. I'm sitting here quietly living my truth.

If you never come back perhaps my name will fade and I'll feel free again - but oddly I never felt more free than in the prison we built together. And true freedom is terrifyingly lonely.

And I'm not angry... I'm not bitter... I'm not desperate... I'm quite calm - the string, I'm letting slack out, giving you plenty of space, giving the string room for you to wander around - if you detached your end I might not even know for a while, but the occasional twitch tells me you're still there.

Others... I'm also afraid of others - but only sometimes. If I saw myself I would think I am pathetic. It's only because I don't see myself, I feel myself, that I can feel the iron core deep within me, that heart full of love pumping strongly. I'm not wasting away - my cheek isn't wan, my muscles not weak, my conversation not droll, my ideas haven't gone flack - loving you silently isn't taking it's toll on me. It's not a weakness, this vulnerable, strange, silent love - no.

I am terrified of you, but part of me has also never felt so sure. I'm terrified of myself, of what will happen, of everything in the future, yet I only see one path among a labyrinth of choices and I keep plonking one foot right in front of the other one - taking ground into the impalpable mist.

I keep moving forward, and yet all my choices are seeming to lead towards you but they are for me... they are not choices motivated by you, but by me, but this string in my heart... the attachment never lets me forget. Would that I could settle into a harmony with myself... like fingers of the same hand that work together seemlessly - my heart and I - alas, no, I must move forward, seemingly toward you, but not for you, but for these big things ... one step plonked in front of another... and I can't let go, and I can't forget, and I can't turn or I'm no longer in truth.

I am afraid of you, the way all people are terrified of the ones they love best. 

Tonight I can write...

Tonight I can write the saddest lines

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
Write, for example,'The night is shattered
and the blue stars shiver in the distance.'
The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
Through nights like this one I held her in my arms
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.
She loved me sometimes, and I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.
To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.... Pablo Neruda 

Sometimes people make choices for you and you get some ice cream, and even if you didn't have any part of the decision making process, and even if you don't particularly love the flavor they picked, you still get ice cream, and that's usually ok unless you're diabetic or lactose intolerant.

Then sometimes people make decisions for you and it means that no matter how much you love them, no matter how much you felt their love, and they said they loved you, they choose not to communicate with you or answer your communication. This type of decision pretty much sucks because you want to have faith in this person. You want to believe that the love meant something. You want to believe that you aren't the kind of person who can be thrown away. You want to believe that all of this non-communication is for a reason, that there's some answer to it all that maybe you just don't see right now and if this person would just get back to you everything would be clear.

I discovered Pablo Neruda in middle school and he's been one of my favorite poets since then. This amazing poem has so often been my comfort when relationships go on pause or end or turn sour. It encompasses all the "not thereness" you feel, staring up at the beautiful night sky, feeling the cool evening breeze, knowing that any other night, this person would be there with you, shielding you from the chill, but now you shiver and the moon is so bright and shining down on you, seemingly asking you where your person is... Where is he? He's far away and I tried to talk to him and he's not responding and I want to believe it's for a reason, but, Moon, I'm not sure. Maybe it's just you and me.

Because though it is easier not talking, let's face it, it's easier, especially when the Moon is shining on us from so far away... When I can't reach out and grab his hand to make him look at me, or feel his eyes searching me for an answer. When he can't see my lips purse suddenly as I have a thought and he can read the meaning without me saying... when those things can't happen, talking isn't easy.

It isn't easy, but part of me is rebellious because this wasn't my choice - not entirely. Even if I agree, it wasn't decided with me, it was decided for me, and now I just don't know what. That little voice in my heart believes even when practicalities tell me to give up hope. And walking home with the Moon, past the groups of people heading out, past the pairs and trios of friends laughing and smoking cigarettes on their way home, past the couples leaning into each other away from the breeze, holding hands... And me, staring up at the Moon, wondering if he was staring up at the moon and thinking of me; Staring up at the moon and missing the dark, smiling eyes, the freckle at the end of his nose, the list could go on... Just missing... a lot seems missing tonight, but thank you Moon, for the brilliant light, for shining... I needed you tonight. 

Letting Go: The Online Plague

So this confessional blog post may end up being sappy and girly. Readers beware.

I don't know how I feel about how practical online communication is when going through a break up. Even if it's not a "bad break up." Both parties agree about the situation, you've decided to be friends, there's some sadness, yes, but it's the distance, and both of you just aren't in the right "space" for a relationship. It doesn't seem so bad.

So my life went back to the way it had been before L. My heart has been healed by him. My life enriched, yes, but he met me in an awesome part of my life - I was flourishing then. So of course the absence of him leaves a mark, like that fingerprint on the banana that turns into the first bruise. But, if we remember, the brown bananas are the sweetest, and I wouldn't take it back for anything.

L went back to Brazil. Let's face it - neither of us planned on falling in love while he was here studying. It just happened. It is the right thing to say goodbye, whether it's for now or forever. We'll see.

But we both said good bye and let's be friends and we'll keep in touch as we entered perhaps the busiest time of our lives. And normally this wouldn't be so bad. Normally it's AWESOME to be busy after a break up because you have something to pour all of your energy into - all the energy that would normally go into loving that person needs to go SOMEWHERE and now it has an outlet. I remember after my first real break up when I was 13 I joined like 50 clubs at school and within a year was running most of them. I can credit most of my extra curriculars to J and I breaking up in 1999.

So anyway, I'm high on coffee, I'm getting shit done, I'm being AWESOME, and then I see L pop online and I pull a full-on Carrie Bradshaw.

In my head I know he's busy being awesome in Brazil; rocking work, university, and 2 household moves - throw in volunteering for flair - and trying to have a life with a very large Brazilian family. It's a wonder he sleeps.


But that doesn't stop the ice from running through my veins when I see him come online and not say hi to me. Because the high-maintenance part of me that is still a 15-year-old-girl wants attention, and assumes there's a reason he isn't talking to me, and she basically goes ape shit, and THEN I sign off because it's TORTURE to be online and trying to control myself and NOT message him and just WAIT for him to message me, and then because I sign off, I think that maybe he was going to talk to me, but I've just run away from him. No matter how I look at it, I fail.

I've had a few long distance boyfriends and after a while, it usually gets to the point where we know it can't go anywhere - where we both know that we wanted logistics to work, but they aren't, and skype dates (even all night ones) (that's not what I meant) (don't be dirty) aren't the same as lying in someone's arms. But it's ok because after you unfriend them from every social media outlet ever, they already live far away so you never have to run into them or see them - and let's face it, you need to disconnect online or you'll just end up stalking them endlessly and who wants to be THAT girl? Not me.

I also know that the crazy 15-year-old in my head is nuts. I know that he doesn't hang out online all day purposefully ignoring me, that he checks stuff, organizes something and heads out (because that's just how he rolls). I know that what's happening with the silence is bigger than how we feel about each other. I also know that the silence is easier, I'm assuming for both of us, because after you break up, when you want to be together, and logistics just are lame, and you're used to talking about everything everyday, you analyse every word, every pause, every hesitation, to see if this person still loves you, or is letting go of you. It's easier to believe we're still friends when we don't talk in rushed chat messages, waiting to have a (hopefully one day) meaningful conversation.

Every look used to be meaningful, every sigh, but we agreed to forego those things, and focus on what we needed to do in our lives - our other responsibilities. Because let's face it, real life isn't a romantic comedy where both people can just quit their jobs and move across the world with the no money they have and end up being happy.

So 15-year-old girl in my head, SHUT UP, because you're ruining the silence. You're ruining the I-get-it-ness that I'd been experiencing as I let out slack in this relationship, but hold onto the end to see what comes of it. We both agreed we wouldn't let go, and maybe in time we'll both be able to come up for air long enough to figure stuff out. But till then, I need to trust in the person I fell in love with. Even if he's far away and silent, he's still him.

Loving your Neighbors: ESOL Class and Inter-faith Crushes

So I have an adorable ESOL class that I adore. They are sponsoring an orphanage in India. And today, we had an in-depth discussion about inter-racial and inter-faith marriage. You see, Maria has a crush on Mohammed, a young Bangledeshi boy who grew up in Spain. Maria is a feisty mixed-race Portuguese girl, and she loves the boys. So while Maria keeps coming after poor Mohammed in Spanish, he smiles and just runs away from her.

"Miss! He's black! His skin is darker than mine!" she let peal out over the classroom.
"No Maria, he's brown - he's Asian. He's from Bangladesh."
"But Miss! He speaks Spanish, and look! Look at his hair! If we had babies, what kind of hair would they have?" (She has kinky African hair, but a lighter, caramel colored skin).

We're all laughing because all of the kids in my class are confident to talk about ourselves like this. They know they are beautiful and special, the blond hair, blue-eyed ones to the dark brown Asian ones, to the black skinned mixed-race children.

So... As the convo continued, it emerged that Mohammed was Muslim, so he eats halal.
"What?! He doesn't eat meat?! No BACON! No SAUSAGE?! No CHICKEN?! Miss, in Portugual it's like NANDOS ALL THE TIME!!" (While miming scarfing chicken with both hands).

Mohammed, this entire time is smiling at how mental she is, and I just have images of her chasing him around with slices of bacon in her hands.

I love having these intense, candid conversations about race and religion. I love the verve of the loud, crazy girls, and the silly boys and the quiet, shy boys... they're all fabulous. I hope they stay as confident and open as they are now, that they continue to learn about other cultures and religions and even have little crushes.

Luckily for Mohammed, when Maria found out his parents probably wouldn't like her, she shrugged and said it'd never work since they wouldn't let her eat sausage. The end.

**Names have been changed. 

‘Though he slay me, yet will I hope in him’: For the Love of Valentine's Day

"Anything less than this complete trust...would not be love, anything less than pure trust would be a kind of careful negotiation. A careful negotiation isn't love. A person must be willing to be dashed on the rocks or made the fool in exchange for a relationship in order for pure love to take place." ~Donald Miller "Searching for God Knows What"

 Valentine's day is right around the corner. Red and pink and hearts are everywhere--it's fabulous! Scary Valentines. Cutesy Valentines. Monster Valentines. I love them all really. I love chocolate and flowers and stupid, overstuffed animals. Like, I kinda wanna throw up in the back of my mouth a little, but in that really satisfying I-ate-too-much-cotton-candy-at-the-fair kinda way...

And all the really bad love songs come out at Valentine's Day...

I could go on, but this could get ugly...

Love is messy. It's this series of power moves... trying to find the right balance. Always asking "What do I mean to (insert name here)?!" And if you're anything like me, you always over think everything in the most fabulously catastrophic way...

Yet, deep down in my veins (ohhhh horrible love metaphor there), I really feel like true love, missing-puzzle-piece, soul-mate, you-complete-me love exists. (There I said it!)...

And I think real love, like soul-shattering, mind-bending love is always deeply traumatic because you have to be vulnerable... you will lose face... you will cry... you will be a mess... you will fight... it's just the human condition... The balance is to find someone who would do the same for you: be completely vulnerable, holding nothing back, throwing it all in.

Song of Songs 8:6-7
6 Set me as a seal upon your heart,
as a seal upon your arm;
for love is strong as death,
passion fierce as the grave.
Its flashes are flashes of fire,
a raging flame.
7 Many waters cannot quench love,
neither can floods drown it.
If one offered for love
all the wealth of one’s house,
it would be utterly scorned.

 There's really nothing else I need to say... and so I'll leave you with all my cheesy idealism and...

I always fall for the wrong guy: Part 4 - the romantic/awkward guy

I read Anna Karenina 7 years ago when I was a substitute teacher at my old high school. One of my vice principals kept trying to convince me that she got abducted by aliens at the end of the book...

But seriously, this may be one of my favorite books ever, but the story of Anna isn't, and her descent into despair isn't.What rivets me so, it's Levin out on his farm scything the hay with the tenant farmers and becoming himself.

Levin is awkward in society. He needs wide open spaces. The stuffy, cluttered drawing rooms of Moscow make him feel penned in. He gets clumsy and feels anxious and hates the tight-fitting suits and always spills soup on his coat--he's that guy. But out in the fields with his scythe and the fresh air, he has space to be the man he is. He isn't clumsy, but almost primal. I can see him shirtless on the fields for hours, days, with the graceful motion of his strong shoulders feeling the rhythm of the land around him. Levin doesn't care for lace and frills, but he does care about purity--he has a pure, unadulterated heart, and he will protect and love those he cares for.

You see, Levin is one of the 4 main men in Anna Karenina. We're meant to really like Vronsky... the hottie who's athletic, rich, and a total womanizer. Of course he wants Anna, who he can't have.

The most telling moment about Vronsky in Anna K, is when he races his beautiful horse Frou-Frou and she crashes so that she breaks her spine. He loved her more than almost anything in life, and he rode her into death and shot her in the head without shedding a tear. I can't even talk about all the symbolism or the motifs of running too hard, or going till you absolutely break. There is something magnificently selfish and soulless in his beautiful eyes which become more and more vacant as the film goes on. Anna herself veils herself more and more till she is almost always in darkness at the end of the film.

Alexei also represents the organised man who is so good that he's incredibly boring most of the time and it will take a very special women to appreciate him the right way. Alexei's stoic, "Christ-like" and yet some how inhuman forgiveness of Anna seemed defiant and unmasculine. How he can be such a champion in the courtroom and a spineless martyr in the bedroom is beyond me.

Alexei's sterile, by-the-book love fails in the end. Vronsky's fire storm of love burns he and Anna to the ground. And don't even get me started on Oblonsky...

I know Levin starts out as the underdog of Anna K, but he's really this unsung romantic hero. He becomes himself out on the fields, he goes back for what he wants, and is ready to love and protect it. He knows who he is and what he offers and to whom he's offering it. Levin is a real man emotionally, physically, even if he doesn't have the best clothes and throw the fanciest dinners.

Which brings me to the my favorite scene of the BOOK, not the movie... where they are truffle hunting and he proposes! Ok... the theatricality of life in the city and the eyes on you and your marriage--Tom Stoppard totally hits the nail on the head when he adds in the meta-theatre of the stages throughout the movie. Levin wants to live outside of all that in the countryside--he doesn't want his entire life and marriage to be a spectacle, but to live simply and genuinely, not worrying about appearances, but the heart.

He needs Katia to be ok with this, so she visits his farm with her family before he proposes. She gives him her heart genuinely and lives in a heart to heart relationship with him. Not for sex, not for appearances, not to be taken care of... for true love. So yes, out of the rich, the lusty, the athletic, the famous, the hardworking, men in Anna K... I fell for the awkward romantic guy because he makes his life worth sharing with someone and then gives her his real heart and self cause I am that girl.

Of all the men I meet, the ones I respect the most are genuine, but the ones I love give their hearts, even if they do it awkwardly.

Whatever happened to "the meek shall inherit the earth?": Part 1 -- the working-mom show-down

"God is not a Republican or a Democrat" 

I came into contact with this catch phrase in college. It was the infamous Bush/Kerry election and that stupid song "this land is my land" song got stuck in my head for weeks on end. People got into intense arguments, completely convinced that they had biblical evidence as to why their opinion was the "right" opinion. And to be fair, both sides had good points and only mildly abused the scriptures (jk.... no really... not... jk).

So another election is under way and the religious vote and religious issues have been making headlines for more than a year already. Women's issues, Civil Rights, poverty, joblessness, government programs, and abortion have been making headlines and the media wars have already left scars on many of my friends.

I'm going to skim through some of these issues, in no way giving comprehensive arguments, but trying to summarise and leave some insight instead.

So, issue 1: Working Moms

I was chilling on the back porch with a good friend the other day. Her mom has never really worked. She got to be at every sporting event, every teacher meeting, she baked for every school event, was home every day when she and her sister came home from school. She feels completely blessed by her stay-at-home mom.

I, on the other hand, had a mom who worked. She could pick me up from school if I were sick and drop me off at home before going back to work. I learned to take care of myself. I learned to get my homework done before mom got home. I helped my brother with his homework and sometimes even started dinner. I learned a lot of self-sufficiency and about serving others. My mom was there for me, but she had other responsibilities as well.

So... a few months ago, someone who used to work for the Democratic National Party said that Mrs. Romney "never worked a day in her life" and the entire country exploded. I loved the passion that working mothers and stay-at-home mom's alike defended their roles. Truly "the female of the species is more deadly than the male." But really, we all know that at the end of the day, unless a woman's husband has an awesome job, both sets of women feel pretty conflicted about staying at home or working when children are involved. I know a lot of women who rely on their husbands when they're finishing college or going to graduate school or just having children. They feel guilty over every purchase. They go without things they would just buy when they had their own purchases... I've seen a lot of very stoic women who rely on their husband's sometimes limited pay.

On the other hand, women who work constantly feel guilty. They constantly feel like they're missing moments in their children's lives, that they are too tired to be there for their children, that their husbands might not stay interested in them if they're too boring and some of them worry that they'll replace moments with things since they have more money than time.

I know that women emphasise the importance of choice in a lot of women's rights issues, but, let's face it, some women, especially single moms and impoverished families don't have this option--they don't have as many choices as some others.

But as my friend and I sipped our coffee, we wondered "Why do women take this incredibly vulnerable issue and just make each other feel worse? What would happen if the stay-at-home moms and the working moms worked together?" What if my friend stayed at home with my kids and loved them while I made some money and worked? I could financially bless her family, she could bless my family with her time.

Neither of us have kids right now, but it seemed like we made this silent pact to support one another if we ever had kids at the same time. And even if we don't, or aren't in the same area, I know we'll reach our arms out into the community to find families we can bless with our respective offers of love.

I know this idea can be much more complicated than "find a friend who stays home," but I feel like the concept is fairly simple--instead of feeling superior for staying at home or going to work, don't judge one another, and just feel the blessing that you are offering one another.

I personally don't feel like I'd be a great stay-at-home mom. We don't need to talk about it now, and I reserve the right to change my mind (it's my perogative), but I don't feel guilty for wanting to work, and I don't feel sorry for anyone who wants to stay home. It's just life circumstances, so let's bless one another and highlight that silver lining.

Don't see your nanny as less than you, don't see your babysitters as unimportant, don't see working moms as unloving or irresponsible. Focus on kindness and understanding and let's love one another.

Love Songs & God

So this song is in the Breaking Dawn sound track. It's by Christina Perri, who's pretty cool, and it's ok, I guess... not to mention that loads of teen girls want it to be their wedding song because it was Bella and Edward's wedding song... sigh.

When I listen to the words, it makes me feel sad for people. People don't have lives like this... even Edward was only a little over a hundred years old.

The Twilight series wants to make soul mates real. Creatures going through life (and in this case after-life) together. I don't know if I believe in soul mates anymore... at one point I did, but it seems too depressing of a concept anymore. As Elinor says, "It is bewitching... the idea of one's happiness depending entirely on one person, it is not always possible." (Sense and Sensibility)

So when I read about Bella and Edward and how they feel pain away from each other and whatnot, I feel a bit sad for all the people in relationships who will feel like their relationships don't measure up because it doesn't match this slightly masochistic and completely selfish paradigm.

It's like we're trying to have an eternal relationship in temporal bodies... it's like we're trying to make ourselves more than souls... gods...

For those thinking of using this song in their weddings, please don't have lyrics including death in your wedding celebration... it's just depressing...

But something in us hears this song and can't help but want it to be true. Even me... the slightly cynical yet completely cheesy and romantic son-of-a...

The only way these lyrics can fit into a beautiful loving relationship appropriately is that of Jesus singing to us, His beloved... it's like this song comes straight out of Song of Songs, when the young man went up on the mountain... or straight from Hosea, when he brought his beloved out to the desert place...

A Thousand Years: 

Heart beats fast

Colors and promises

How to be brave

How can I love when I'm afraid to fall

But watching you stand alone

All of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow

One step closer

[Chorus:]

I have died everyday waiting for you

Darling don't be afraid I have loved you

For a thousand years

I'll love you for a thousand more

Time stands still

Beauty in all she is

I will be brave

I will not let anything take away

What's standing in front of me

Every breath

Every hour has come to this

One step closer

[Chorus:]

I have died everyday waiting for you

Darling don't be afraid I have loved you

For a thousand years

I'll love you for a thousand more

And all along I believed I would find you

Time has brought your heart to me

I have loved you for a thousand years

I'll love you for a thousand more

So I can't see this being meaningful if any human said it to any human... maybe if Orpheus said it to Persephone or something like that... I can imagine Jesus saying this to people. I can imagine Jesus thinking of us while waiting in jail, ready to be nailed to the cross... or in the grave, not dead, but waiting, luring us with his respectful and adoring eyes, seeing the beauty in us when we can't see it. I could go on, but it's just going to get ridiculous. 

I'll let you decide for yourselves... but Love Songs & God might become a new blog series for me... I have a few more I've been thinking about. :) 

Brave: Post Disney Families

Finally there is a film where the father is not an idiot, dead or abusive... Finally there is a film where the princess is NOT MARRIED at the end. Finally there is a film where the main story line is not between the princess and a prince, but between a Mother and her Daughter.

In today's world, we need more movies about family and not about romance. Romance doesn't build families... romance initiates... communication builds families, understanding builds families, honesty builds families, letting go of pride builds families... love builds families.

For real relationships to happen, for real love to form... we have to be Brave. Amen.  

I always fall for the wrong guy: Part 3 - Effect

Have you ever met one of those guys that you automatically click with? He's funny, he can get you smiling in a second. You feel at ease with him automatically, you can talk to him effortlessly... so of course, you put him in the "friend box" where you will never screw up the friendship... ever.

And then, there are the guys I fall for (as of late), the artistic and kinda moody guys. They are quiet so you always wonder what they are thinking. You never know what to do around them, so you fidget and wiggle and feel awkward and stupid things gush out of your mouth and if you are like me, you get very very clumsy around them in the manner of Lorelai Gilmore walking into doors (which, btw, I have done...).

I've been thinking lately of the effect people have on me, and what I want my effect to be on them. It's true that because I am shy on the inside, when I like someone, I get awkward and quiet and stupid and clumsy... but shouldn't a great guy have a great effect on me?

There are a few different guys in my life at the moment and I'm going to leave out names and just describe effects...

1. Always makes me smile, gets me giggling, cheers up the entire room. Can talk serious if need be. Helpful. Kind. I leave with a smile, and usually still laughing at the jokes we've shared.

2. Always makes me feel shy, like I might say the wrong thing. Hard to read his thoughts. I can't tell if we're friends or just acquaintances. I have a feeling that he is deeply genuine and that most of what he thinks isn't spoken. I want to know these thoughts, but am scared of asking. I always leave him feeling uncertain.

3. Super efficient. Cheerful in a customer service kind of way. At times, I feel I get the brush off. I leave feeling nettled.

4. Very nice. Very cheerful. Courteous almost to a fault. I want to rile him up and make him unsettled cause it's fun. I like pushing his buttons and it's amazing he still hangs out with me. I feel like Stitch with my badness level up high when I hang out with him. He sees all my argumentativeness and whatnot mostly because he is nice enough to take it. Sometimes I think he sees it as a bit of fun, sometimes I think I exasperate him... I leave feeling like I might need to apologize, and a bit cheeky and naughty, but in a cheerful kind of way.

I'm not saying any of these guys would want me (we'll get to the effect I have on others in a moment)... but of these 4... I should definitely want number 1, right?... But alas, number 2... I'm not going to try to psycho-analyse it at all... it's not true love either. It's just a crush. But, if I could pick who I have a crush on... number 1 all the way.


Ok... so... the effect we have on others doesn't have to be known... effect can be subtle and unspoken and even unrealised. I've seen people whose presence inspires strength and hard work, and others whose presence inspires silliness, whose presence drags people down... not by the interactions, just by the energy they bring.

I want to be a safe place for people... to have strong, soft, peaceful arms that can hold them when they are upset, that can wipe away tears, that can listen (well, ears). I want to bring peace to confusion and order to chaos. God help me... literally...

I want to be joyful. Come for a laugh, a giggle, a joke, a smile. I want eyes that shine with love and happiness which comes from the Lord. I want that beautiful radiant energy that gets people's toes tapping and leaves them shaking their heads. Again, Lord help me... (and coffee ;))

I want to be a place of wisdom... where ideas can be heard and weighed and measured and where it's ok to be wrong. I want people to be able to bring issues and problems and ideas and passions to me. To tell me their dreams. I want to make sure I don't judge people, but am full of encouragement and hope and sound judgement, truth and honesty... God, give me clarity and foresight and a wise tongue.

There are so many other things I want my presence to bring to a space, but I think those are the big three. I can imagine a steel post in the ground... it bends and moves, but it doesn't break, it doesn't get torn out of the ground, it's flexible enough to endure, and strong enough without being impervious.

Imperviousness doesn't allow anything in... It blocks and if something penetrates it, it shatters... It's brittle and breakable, relying only on it's exterior to protect it.

But we know, from Father Raniero Cantalamessa, that God's victory is not one of power, but of love... where he took evil onto himself and with his love he transformed the evil into love, so that love is all that is left...

I hope beyond hope that whatever else people feel when they walk away from me, that the residue of love is glittering over them. As for the guys... we'll sort out my craziness another day... 

Confess with your Eyes

Romans 10: 9 That if you confess with your mouth, "Jesus is Lord" and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.

Father Raniero Cantalamessa is my new grandfather... I would just like to say that... I've adopted him because of his absolute brilliance, spiritual insight and strength, the joy in his heart, and the subtle, simple way he teaches and shows how much he loves Jesus.

I will be the first to admit that I am inexcusably lazy when it comes to evangelism. It's not that I don't want people to know I'm a Christian, it's that I'd rather not tell them. As the famous Mennonite proverb goes, when asked "Are you a Christian?" they cheerily respond, "Ask my neighbor."

This is all well and good, if you know your neighbors in a small PA suburb. When you live in London, notorious for being suspicious of strangers, especially if they live near you, this becomes difficult.

Suffice to say, my neighbors probably don't know I'm a Christian, but I try to have those around me, my work colleagues, my friends, my church, know through my service and care. I'm way off from what I should do to love them, but I really try.

So Father Raniero totally called me out on this evangelical laziness; "If you cannot tell people with your words, you can always tell them with your eyes." Tell them with your eyes that "Jesus is LORD! JESUS IS LORD!"

People say that, "The eyes are the window to the soul." Even without getting that deep, it's clear that our eyes speak to people. People can always tell what I'm thinking by my face. Even if I want to keep it blank and be mature and couch the emotions which are usually roaming and foaming around in my heart, little glimpses come out to play on my face. I sat soberly thinking about the things my eyes say to people on a probably near daily basis:

• I need coffee. (many times a day)
• I like your hair. (genuinely)
• I hate your hair. (tshirt, skirt, shoes)
• I don't know what you're saying. (huh?!)
• Could you just move. (on the pavement)
• This is boring. (bus time..., briefing...)
• I need coffee. (always)
• Don't you DARE. (cut in the queue)
• That would be GREAT. (if you got me coffee)
• I'll pretend I'm happy. (but I'd rather not be here)
• Meh. (I need coffee)
• Am I the only one excited by this?! (puppies!)
• I think you just caught me watching you (on the tube) 
• You are cute! (usually guys on the tube)

I could go on and on... the point is, I don't think my eyes ever say "Jesus is LORD!" and I really want them to. I really want to be the kind of person buzzing with the Joy of the Lord, even if the words don't come out of my mouth. The problem is I'm not really sure how to make this happen... 

I mean, I thought about thinking about it a lot, maybe meditating on it, "Ommmm Jesus is Lord, Jesus is Lord, Jesus is Lord..." or singing more worship songs, or praying more... but I pray a bit already and I don't think my eyes communicate the supremacy and sovereignty of Jesus. 

So... I'm going to go on a cheesy motif overload for a moment... but I want you to come with me. If, the eyes are the window to the soul, and my heart is where I keep my treasure, then... theoretically, if my heart is bubbling over with the joy of the Lord, it should show out of my eyes.

The real problem is that in my heart, Jesus is A treasure, not all of my treasure.

I remember having a moment singing a worship song that said "here in your arms, there's no other place I'd rather be...." and I had to stop singing it, cause... at that moment I kinda really wanted a boyfriend and if some cute guy had opened his arms to me, I probably would have run right in... There were other places than Jesus' arms where I would like to be... and this is a problem.

It's not a problem because guys are bad, or because wanting things for my life is bad... but I just don't think making it the treasure of my life is worth it. Martin Luther King Jr. famously said, "If a man doesn't have something he would die for, he isn't fit to live." Once again, Sir Winston Churchill said "We make a living by what we get, we make a life by what we give."

Yes, I care about education and writing and I'd like to be recognized for my talents and develop my skills... but, I know, deep down in my heart, that being a famous author or getting awards in education or having many degrees from universities isn't more important than people knowing that Jesus is Lord. Having a boyfriend isn't more important than people knowing that Jesus is Lord. The very least I could do is live with my face showing the glory of the Lord as I roam around this city, teach these kids, and laugh with my friends... that's the LEAST I could do. May the Lord help me and guide me into other ways of loving these amazing creatures He's blessed and surrounded me with. And I should probably introduce myself to my neighbors...

Miss Piggy has the Right Idea: Body Image and Complements

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and it may be necessary from time to time to give a stupid or misinformed beholder a black eye.” ~ Miss Piggy

I'm not gonna lie... loving the shape I'm in is sometimes difficult. It's easy to think it's easier for someone else... but really, no one's body or life is perfect. I've got a big bum... she get's in the way... she makes it impossible for me to wear pencil skirts, I knock things over with her, skinny jeans are a challenge cause that pooch thing in the back happens... but... I must say... my waist is usually kickin! Women with love handles envy my waist... and usually, I envy their thighs... but if I had their thighs on the end of this butt, it would look even more weird... so... my bum and I learn to love each other. 

I love that no matter how much I run or do squats and lunges, she will get harder, but not smaller... 

I love that I can salsa like a latina because I got junk in my trunk... 

I love that a whole slew of music has been dedicated to women with bums: Fat Bottomed Girls, Shake your Booty, Bootylicious, Baby Got Back, My Humps, Honky Tonk Badonkadonk, etc. etc. 

I love that my shoulder bag bumps my bum to the rhythm of my ipod and I can watch men watching my bag bump, bump, bumping along the sidewalk... 

Body image is difficult because it's not just your body, but how you feel about your body... 

This disturbing and yet helpful article shows me that other women care about this... 

One thing Zooey Deschanel always goes on about is complimenting other girls... not seeing each other as competition, but as loving each other and respecting each other. And I completely agree... 

I try to compliment the women I work with a few times a week. Not in an annoying, fake way... but I actually try to open my eyes and notice when they have new jewellery or have cut their hair or are wearing new shoes or something. I try to remember their birthdays and what things make them uncomfortable and how they take their coffee and food allergies... 

I think if we all took a step back and ignored the magazines and just looked at each other... really looked at each other... things might be different. It's like when people who have known me for ages finally notice that I have green eyes... I just think "Where have you been looking for the past year or so?" 

One thing the article really made me worry about was the idea of being sexy... the concept that you have to look like Kim Kardashian to be sexy... or that men won't want you... that's ridiculous... men watch my bump bump bump on the way home from the gym in sweats... men watch my bump bump bump in jeans and flip flops laden with groceries... men watch the sway of my knee-length skirt as I run for the bus... Sexy doesn't have to be all boobs out and pouty lips and eye-liner... sexiness can be knowing who you are, your confidence, your self love, and knowing where you're going. Sexiness is looking people in the eye, meaning what you say, and standing your ground... for men too... 

Don't get me wrong, I want to be healthy and take care of myself... but I think that going to the gym and taking some classes and heading out for a run is a bit different than sculpting my thighs so I can look like Angelina Jolie in the Tomb Raider movies... (which, btw, I would LOVE to have her thighs)... but who has the time for that!? 

I love it when celebs like Gwen Stefani and Angelina come out and admit how friggin hard they work to keep their bodies as tough and solid as they are... Sorry girls, but I don't have the time or money for 4 hour training sessions...

I would hate for one of my main ambitions in life to have someone else's muscular thighs... which... btw, she totes knows about herself, flashing them off... 

I've said it before, and I'll say it again... Francis Chan is a genius: “Our greatest fear should not be of failure but of succeeding at things in life that don't really matter.” 

Does it matter if I cannot rock a pencil skirt? Nope... I can rock those adorable swing skirts! 

Does it matter if I knock stuff over with my butt on a semi-regular basis? Only for the comedic relief... 

One thing I think does matter is encouraging and loving each other... it builds trust and community. It brightens someone's day. It shows you care and they matter. 

So... go out and notice something positive and complement someone ;) It'll make you sexy... 

I always fall for the wrong man: Part 1... TV

For the past few days I've been obsessed with a US film which has recently come over to the UK... Revenge is like socialite 24... It's serious enough to keep me watching, but with obvious plot failures and average writing, if I'm honest.

But alas, as always, I've fallen in love... and before you go there... nope... not with Daniel Grayson, the somewhat stupid but inwardly nobel and always malleable Grayson heir.



Nope... a bit too nice. A bit boring... dashing, but... no...

Nor with the good guy, Jack Porter, who obsessively wants to redeem himself with Amanda Clarke (Ummm... btw, see Peeta in the Hunger Games and William in Snow White and the Huntsman.... is this the year the guy with the hang up comes center?)



No... in real life I'd want Jack... but not on my tv. On my tv, I, of course, want the guy who's unwanted, but also unavailable... who's very camp, a bit homosexual, and who's really bad at being bought... yes... I love Nolan Ross... the witty, geeky, billionaire who's Emily's "side kick" of sorts.


Ok... Reasons why he's fabulous... He's got great face. Nolan is always showing his true face, whether it's glaring at a person, nodding in disgust, or smiling and looking at his shoes when something amuses him... He's much more adorable than nefarious.

He's witty, and this goes a long way with me.

He's conflicted about being a bit evil and not afraid to do something about it.

He's a bit spazzy and practically a coward, and I'm sorry, but shows need guys like this... not everyone can be a ninja and have an excellent shot or secret knife throwing skills... it's completely unrealistic.

He's complicated... about his motives, about his loyalties... while the plot is complicated, the characters are flat, always having one motive, always doing the same thing over and over... Nolan actually interests me with some of his plot twists... He seems like the kind of guy who would keep you guessing, and not just because he wears jackets with surf shorts...

He has loyalty... He's there for Emily, even if he's pissing her off sometimes. He has loyalty to her father... He's there for his friends, like his friendship with Jack Porter... it's endearing...

He has no back story... where's his family? Why can't he get laid? (Like, seriously, he's not too shabby looking...)


It's just like me to fall for minor characters... Like "Naked Guy" in Gilmore Girls... like Oliver Wood in Harry Potter... like Jasper in Twilight... like MANY minor characters in LOTR... Glorfindel, Pippin, Faramir... the list could go on really... TBC

The Healing Love of Community: Spotlight on Godly Men

“We must kill the false woman who is preventing the live one from breathing.” ― Hélène Cixous

I feel like Helene Cixous would probably tell me I'm  fool for writing this post... She would be furious that I've taken her feminist philosophy and made it about humanity instead of only about women. I know men have oppressed and hurt women throughout history, but I know women are also powerful, and we also injure and ignore and have our own way of oppressing...

Studies show that men usually don't talk about things when they're upset. They let things fester. They hold things in, and it can cause some serious issues in their hearts, in their minds, and in their relationships. It ends up being bad for everyone really... and I know loads of women would say "well then just TALK about it then!"... But methinks it probably isn't that simple.

Regardless, this post isn't really about the problems between men and women (of which there are plenty)... This post is about the blessings men have been in my life the past few weeks.

You see, I've been making friends with some guys at church, and I've always had guy friends, so this is nothing new... but... God's love is just so imbued into these men that it's really healing some hurting places in my heart... and before you go there, NO... I'm not falling in love with any of them. I'm pretty sure none of them are falling in love with me.

This is bigger than romantic love.

It's God's love.

When I try to explain it, it sounds like and looks like romantic love... but it feels so much deeper and purer and smoother than all that...

It happens in things as simple as a look... these men look at my face, and it seems like pure light comes from their eyes--I actually blush sometimes and stare at my shoes, because it's powerful, as if they can see into me.

Living in London where I've encountered a lot of cat calls and men staring at me like that shark stared at the surfer girl... this is so refreshing. I don't feel like I'm going to be judged or devoured or anything. I feel like I can be an innocent girl with them... I can be free because there is nothing predatorial in the interaction. It's simple and light and lovely. So many times I either feel ignored or as though I'm the subject of a bemused hunger, but not with these fellas...

It happens with them listening, remembering things, asking me about things... knowing my life--not to get anything from me, not to come at me with romantic love, but just to know me as a sister, as a friend...

It happens with a soft word... an idea spoken so gently that I feel impelled to obey them. They aren't commanding me. They aren't putting their will on me, or even asserting an opinion or anything... these words are offered so gently, so impartially, so calmly, and I just feel the Holy Spirit in them that I just stop dead in my tracks... something in my soul seems to perk up and listen, again, not in romantic love, just in this "I know you are thinking of me and I'll listen to you" way... Similar to the way I feel the Navi in Avatar would say "I see you"...

I don't think these interactions are a me-specific thing... I think these men just have God's Spirit in them and God is letting me see glimpses of this... how His Spirit changes the way we do community and relationships. It changes how we listen to people, how we see people, how we consider things--it changes our community. It brings freedom, letting us put aside our "false" selves, and airing out the live one... I feel more like a "real" woman... more like I can be free to be a woman, more like I am accepted as a woman in society, more like I fit into the world because I'm being loved into the community there with these wonderful guys...

I think a lot of men I meet feel powerless... it's a tool used to enslave them... but men seem to have such influence over people's lives (not that women don't, but that's another post). Men are so strong--physically, emotionally, spiritually... and they can either use that strength to bless the people in their lives (and they will be so blessed indeed), or they can withhold it, or use it against them, and then, what are we to do?

All of us with our hurts and our messiness... God's love in us helps us to love each other into wholeness... so we can better be ourselves, and become better selves in the process... men and women together. Whether or not it's easy or we like it, in the beginning it was created male and female--we've been in it together since then, and there's no getting out of that community now.