Tangents, fries, and boobs

Disclaimer: Please understand that this is my personal blog. I use it to process my life, express my opinions, and share things that I've observed or learned. This is where I offer what I have to offer to the world. But I am not trying to take over the world. (Blogger tells me that most of my posts usually only get about 15-30 views each, so I wouldn't be able to use my blog to take over the world, even if I wanted to.) I am merely trying to process and share my life. I do not welcome debates or lectures here. If any readers decide to disrespect what I have experienced and learned in my life, and if they do so by preaching some canned arguments at me, that will earn a mighty fast deleting of the inappropriate comment in question, or perhaps a swift clicking of the Unfriend or Block-this-person button on Facebook. I'm not afraid of doing any of that. That's not a threat; that's just an honest heads-up.

About 19 years ago when I was in college -- before Facebook existed and everybody used the internet for everything -- I had a friend who typed up a humorous newsletter and distributed it to select people at the apartment complex where we lived. She did so anonymously, and from what I can remember, she folded up the newsletter and -- under the early-morning cover of darkness -- taped it to the apartment doors where lifegroup leaders at my church lived. The title of the newsletter was The Tangent, and it was indeed a random collection of hilarious stuff. I think the author wrote it just to make people laugh, or perhaps to just have an outlet to express her humorous and creative energy. Unfortunately, the newsletter only had one issue; the author did not create any more after that. Perhaps her busy college schedule caught up with her and her early-morning secret shenanigans.

But that one issue of The Tangent was so well-written and so fresh that people talked about it years afterwards. (I'd share a copy of it here, but I don't have one, because I wasn't one of the select people on its mailing list.) Perhaps its mystery fueled its popularity in our circle of friends, but other than that, I honestly don't understand why the author of The Tangent chose to keep her identity a secret. Some people thought it was me. Honestly, no way. If it were me, I wouldn't have written it anonymously. I would have wanted credit for that brilliance. And my prolific self would have written more than one issue. (Perhaps my 280+ blog posts can vouch for that.) Unfortunately, since I was sworn to secrecy, I cannot reveal the identity of the author of The Tangent, even though I am no longer friends with her.

However, I can re-create a tiny part of it here from memory. There was a Top 10 list of "Ways You Can Tell If Your Roommate Is Fasting." One of them was "If you eat a sandwich in front of him, he tells you, 'GET BEHIND ME, SATAN!" And the #1 reason was "He tells you, 'Hey, dude, I'm fasting.' " This was truly hilarious stuff, especially in a church culture where we fasted very often, and we probably needed to laugh about it.

"Moreover, when you fast, do not be like the hypocrites, with a sad countenance. For they disfigure their faces that they may appear to men to be fasting. Assuredly, I say to you, they have their reward." (Matthew 6:16)

Hey, reader, I'm fasting. I'm not bragging about it, and I'm not telling you (hopefully) so as to violate the scripture that I just quoted. I'm telling you because I've written here before about the stuff that I've learned during my fasts. And, frankly, if I wait until next weekend (after I break the fast) to write about this, I might not have time.

I'm currently doing a 14-day salad-only fast, which is what God and I now do every year around this time. For the past few years whenever I've fasted, God has usually shown me some symbolic stuff, and He's usually used the circumstances of the fast itself to ingrain some very important lessons inside me. (I'm sure He knows that I'm a kinesthetic learner. If I don't learn something by doing it, the lesson might not stick.)

Years ago when I was first learning how to fast, I was taught by people who considered food to be the enemy during a fast. So, it was difficult for me to NOT think about food while I was fasting. I mean, if all you're doing is drinking water and juice, you're probably going to be screaming, "I WANT HAMBURGERS AND ENCHILADAS!!!" inside your head all day. (It's kinda hard to focus on God when that happens.) In recent years, I began hiding all the food in my pantry, refrigerator, and freezer in preparation for any fasts.

But this time, God told me to not hide any of the "temptation." My boxes of frosted mini-wheat and oatmeal are still sitting on top of my refrigerator where I can see them. My pantry still has a tiny little can of beef macaroni sitting in it, but I know it's there, and it's waiting for me.

And during this particular fast, God has told me that I can drink whatever I want. That part is extremely cool. So, I still pour flavored creamer into my coffee, I've been drinking lots of juice and a little bit of soda, and I even dip into the free hot chocolate between meals when I'm at work. But I can only eat salad. God told me that during this particular fast, I would crave salad, and He was right. It wasn't until very recently that I started wanting hamburgers and ice cream, but it's OK. I CAN eat salad for the next several days, and I'm good to go.

I think this particular fast has been awesome practice at resisting "temptation." I went to Dollar Tree the other day -- a frugal person's shopping paradise -- and only felt a tiny tinge of "Oh, I can't eat any of the stuff in here" for a very short second.

But it wasn't until a couple of days after the fact that I realized that I had actually eaten a sit-down meal at Braum's without flinching. Everyone around me was eating hamburgers, fries, and ice cream, and I was in salad heaven. I should have taken a picture of the strawberry and poppyseed salad before I wolfed it down. OH, MY GOSH. I actually thought to myself, "I am officially a fast-foodie." (After I took out the brown-looking pieces of lettuce, it was a very scrumptious meal.)

The boundaries that God set for me for this fast were that I can drink whatever I want, and I can only eat salad. That is plenty right now. Yes, my tummy experiences a little bit of pain sometimes between meals, but that's what juice and hot chocolate are for. And after my stomach shrank a tiny bit at the beginning of the fast to accommodate my curbed appetite, things got better.

This is all totally symbolic to me.

For the past year, I have been battling a lust addiction (which isn't a secret; I blogged about it here). God told me that my healing would be gradual, and He wasn't kidding around. I've felt like my progress has been all over the place, but God has been encouraging me every step of the way, helping me, listening to me, and showing me that I haven't been where I was about a year ago. That's all Him, and that's all me finally letting Him have His way.

So, sexually, God's boundaries for me are that if I get married, to a man, I can have as much sex with him as he and I want to have. But until then, metaphorically speaking, I'm all dressed up and no place to go. And I have a Father who will know me better than any stupid man ever will. (No offense.) I get to spend the rest of my life, the rest of my eternity, getting to know Him back. Those are the boundaries, period.

My current battles aren't the only sexual-related issues I've dealt with in my past. (Those aren't secrets, either; I've blogged about my beliefs and my struggles especially here and here.) So, I hope you understand that I don't hate anyone who has struggled sexually or who disagrees with my beliefs or God's very real, very pronounced boundaries.

However, I do disrespect Bruce Jenner. Nope, I'm not going to pretend to be a courteous modern-day journalist and call "her" Caitlyn. Especially not if "she" professes to be a Christian.

"Therefore God also gave them up to uncleanness, in the lusts of their hearts, to dishonor their bodies among themselves, who exchanged the truth of God for the lie, and worshiped and served the creature rather than the Creator, who is blessed forever. Amen... And even as they did not like to retain God in their knowledge, God gave them over to a debased mind, to do those things which are not fitting..." (Romans 1:24-25, 28)

"So when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree desirable to make one wise, she took of its fruit and ate. She also gave to her husband with her, and he ate." (Genesis 3:6)

I understand that there are many gender-related situations in which surgery would be necessary. We live in a fallen world, and tragic stuff happens all the time like people being born one gender that either lacks a certain component required for their gender, or they are born with extra stuff that isn't needed in their gender. Surgery can fix that type of stuff, no problem.

But to just be born a regular, healthy male and decide that you are really supposed to be female, or vice versa, is just plain wrong. One thing that I've been learning during the past few years is that God makes us in His image -- which is both male and female -- so there are real, genuine, God-given traits ON THE INSIDE that can float around inside us regardless of what our actual gender is. For instance, men are direct and organized. But that doesn't mean that women who are direct and organized are actually supposed to be male; that just means that they are made in God's image. For instance, women are intuitive/sensitive and poetic. But that doesn't mean that men who are intuitive/sensitive and poetic are actually supposed to be female; that just means that they are made in God's image. Because God is direct, organized, intuitive/sensitive, and poetic simultaneously. Yes, God is both male and female simultaneously.

But to be a male all your life -- and a beautiful male, too -- who even goes so far as to get married, father children, and WIN A FRICKIN' GOLD MEDAL IN A MEN'S OLYMPIC EVENT, and then decide that you're really supposed to be a female... I'm sorry, but that's just wrong. I don't mean to pick on Bruce Jenner; it's just that his story is plastered all over the internet, and it's constantly in my face. I can't even research his life on YouTube without a whole page worth of Caitlyn videos (some inappropriate) cropping up. I had to type in "Bruce Jenner Olympics" to find something worth my while. (Did you know that back in the 70s, Bruce Jenner was considered to play the role of Superman? Can you smell the irony?) I can't even read about his life on Wikipedia now without him being called "her" or "she." And supposedly, according to Wikipedia, Bruce isn't even a homosexual or a heterosexual anymore; he's asexual. I would have done more research to find out what that means, but my curiosity on Wikipedia is what got me into trouble last year, so I'm going to assume that that means that Caitlyn is attracted to himself.

I mean, my gosh. All God-related stuff aside, come on, Brucie. Do you honestly think you can become a bona fide woman with mere surgery? Are you honestly willing to go through the same things that we women go through? Are you honestly ready to go through menstruation, cramps, PMS, menopause, hot flashes, mood swings? Not that you're at the age for that type of thing. You conveniently skipped most of it. All you got was hormone treatments, facial surgery, breast implants, and some mutilation of something that was probably originally created to be very beautiful. Of course you had a panic attack when you woke up one morning and suddenly realized that you were a woman. How are those new breasts working for you, buddy? Kinda messes with your equilibrium, doesn't it? We REAL women spent our puberty years growing into them and getting used to them, and then we spend our adult years figuring out how to hide the brutally honest, brutally sagging truth. And we are stronger because of it. And is that what you think we look like? Some kind of masculine-looking freak? You insult us, you big Olympic jerk. Oh, sure, you're happy now, because everybody is giving you so much attention. But what about when you're 90 and your brand-new boobs don't match your wrinkly-old-man frame?

Seriously.

But I guess if a suicide attempt is just as big of a slap in the face to God as an unnecessary gender-altering surgery is, then I probably shouldn't throw stones.

One thing I've been thinking about lately is that in the Garden of Eden, all the trees looked good. Even the tree of the knowledge of good and evil looked good. I wonder if maybe it still looks good today. I wonder if maybe EVERYTHING around us in the world still looks good to us fallible human beings today. Want to become a woman instead of a man? The world will tell you that's good; you should follow your heart. Want to marry a video game instead of a human being? The world will tell you that's good; you should follow your heart. Want to buy a gun and shoot all the employees in your office? The world will tell you they're so sorry that you were hurting, and they'll pay for your lawyer; way to go for following your heart.

Oh, yeah. Minor detail:

"He who trusts in his own heart is a fool, but whoever walks wisely will be delivered." (Proverbs 28:26)

" 'The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked; who can know it? I, the Lord, search the heart, I test the mind, even to give every man according to his ways, according to the fruit of his doings.' " (Jeremiah 17:9-10)

"For if our heart condemns us, God is greater than our heart, and knows all things." (1 John 3:20)

Our hearts are deceitful things that can't always be trusted, so following your heart can be very bad news. I'm not talking about God putting something on your heart and you following that. I'm not talking about God creating you to be a certain way and to have certain desires (e.g., to be a crazy cat lady who spends her Saturday night blogging) and chasing after those. I'm not talking about having certain personality traits or nurturing certain dreams that make us beautifully human. I'm talking about embracing and running with the stupid things that float around inside us, and doing what they compel us to do, instead of doing our part to utterly destroy them, like what God wants us to do, so that our hearts can become purer and purer.

Despite the surgery, Caitlyn was not created overnight. I don't think Bruce Jenner woke up one morning and was like, "Hey, I think I'm actually supposed to be a woman." And I don't mean to poop on his personal struggles or on the things that he may have wrestled with for years. Sure, Eve contributed to the fall of the entire human race by succumbing to one tiny little temptation. But sometimes deception takes years to grow. And unraveling it out of your life is a process that can also take years. I know what I'm talking about.

That is something that comforts me. When I'm wondering why I keep tripping and stumbling while I'm trying to walk uprightly, I take comfort in the fact that God told me that my healing would happen gradually and in the fact that new growth is a process that can take quite a bit of time.

"Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path." (Psalm 119:105)

The truth is, our world is a very dark place. While we are groping around and trying to find the right path, we are told that everything around us looks good and to just keep walking however our hearts lead us. But then Somebody turns the light on and-- AAAAAGH! You're about to step in a pile of poop. Or a manhole. Or a nest of vipers. Aren't you glad Somebody loved you enough to turn the light on? Aren't you a little bit ticked off at the lying voices who told you that you weren't in any danger?

The fact that God's word is a lamp unto our feet and a light unto our path isn't just a catchy 80s church song. It's a life-saving truth. In this dark, crazy, heartbreaking world, everything looks good enough to sink your teeth into. But God has different ideas. He's the One who created it, so He's the One who already has very clear boundaries set in place. The boundaries that still seem vague are the ones that we need to trust Him with. It's imperative to be able to hold His hand and stick close by Him so that we will know where to walk, where to step, where to sink down our roots and grow. It's important to use His word as a light, as a guide, as a life-giving tool during this journey that contains so many landmines, so many dangerous twists and turns, and so many opportunities for disaster.

In this world where God has told us, metaphorically speaking, that we can only eat salad -- even though everyone around us is eating burgers, fries, and ice cream -- it is the salad that will truly satisfy our appetite. If we want to live life His way, we will have no other choice until He gives us permission to metaphorically eat otherwise.

Hmm. I didn't mean to end this post so cheesily. Maybe I should make a joke about my future husband. Once upon a time, there lived a man named Jacques who lived in the French Riviera with his poodle. One day, he suddenly appeared at Tirzah's front door with a plate of highly aromatic French fries. While his poodle rudely barked at Tirzah's alarmed cats, Jacques held out the plate. "Zees plate contains zee greatest expression of love that money can buy," he said. "Inside zees French fries ees hidden your engagement ring. Eef you can find eet, I will properly propose to you, and you will be my wife, and we will leev happily ever after while I cook you highly aromatic foods that will never make you fat. And I will trade in my rude poodle Pierre for a proper cat. I happened to spot one at the animal shelter on my way to deliver zees plate to you. We can name heem Jean-Claude, and we can train heem to wash zee dishes after I cook you highly aromatic cuisine."

Heh. See? I can create tangents, too.