No comprendo

Hello, reader. It’s time once again for Here’s What It’s Like To Be Single Theater. [Easy listening trumpet solo plays in background.] In today’s episode, we’ll have a crash course on marital status diversity training. (For previous “episodes,” see my previous blog posts from 2/13/11 and 6/30/10.)

I love my church. It has, in my opinion, one of the best, life-giving singles ministries I’ve been honored to be a part of. My church makes sure we singles have a place to be planted and thrive the way God wants us to. Yet even in a place where singles are wanted, valued, and not treated like outcasts, we are sometimes accidentally singled out by married people. I can’t speak for everybody, but what I have experienced is that my singlehood is sometimes spotlighted accidentally by married people. They don’t mean to do it, and I know they love me, but let me give you an example. I recently received an email encouraging me to get the “man in my life” to attend a men’s retreat. Do you know who the man in my life is? Let me show you his picture.



This is my orange cat. I snapped photos of him last spring because I wanted to capture how he marks his territory on my tuna cans. This is a bird’s-eye view of him jumping up and wiping his cheek on an unopened can. Yes, he is completely missing my hand and exclusively paying attention to the tuna. Good thing he isn’t my boyfriend. Our relationship would be in serious trouble!

I kid around. But in all seriousness, I’m OK with being single right now. That doesn’t mean I’m “dating Jesus.” That means I understand that God has me single right now because He hasn’t given me a man yet (not a cat, an actual man). Yes, I would much rather be married. I’ve never been married, and I’ve gone approximately 17 years without a date, and none of this has been my choice. God has been healing me, especially from rejection, etc. I’m content with my marital status right now, meaning that I don’t want it, but I’ll take it, and if I’m where God wants me, I’m OK with it. Yet sometimes, out of nowhere, a wave of pain will slap me in the face. It will remind me, “You’re alone. You’re husbandless. You’re boyfriendless. You’re dateless.” This is a painful truth. I take my pain to God, and He lets me cry on His shoulder. I get closer to Him. I appreciate that. Unfortunately, what I don’t appreciate is the wave of pain that slaps me in the face. That email I received about the “man in my life” is one such example. The married people (at least, I assume they’re married) who sent that email were just doing some clever advertising. They weren’t trying to hurt me.

I know that the married people in my church love me because they try to give me metaphorical examples of what God’s character is like. Unfortunately, they give me examples that I really can’t relate to -- for example, “God loves and accepts His children in a similar way that I love and accept my children.” Um, good for you. Uh, what were we talking about again? Or even worse -- “Such and such is a lot like dating. Remember when you went on your first date and you were nervous about what the other person would think of you?” Um, no, and I don’t have time to go into detail and explain why. Uh, dating -- I’m not sure the rewind button in my brain can even travel back that far!

You’re speaking to me in a foreign language. I’m sorry, but no comprendo. That means, “I don’t understand.” If you want me to grasp what you’re trying to communicate, please speak a language that I understand. Otherwise, I may tune you out. ¿Entiendes lo que estoy diciendo? Yeah, I didn’t think so. :) Perhaps you should try translating your message into cat-lady. “What? You mean the way I feel about my cats is a teensy little fraction of how humongously much God loves me? Because He made me, redeemed me, and wants me?? Wow! I get it!!” See? Transmission received and understood. :) Or you could try speaking in general-truth terms. “God loves you and wants the very best for you.” See? I understand that language, too! :)

Let’s go back to the diversity training for a bit. I’m not quite sure how to go about this, but I’m just gonna get it all out there. If you’re married and/or have children, just because I’m single and live alone doesn’t mean that my time isn’t as valuable as yours. Being single doesn’t mean that my life is meaningless or useless. Do you know what it’s like to live alone? Do you know what it’s like to have to pay all your living expenses, clean your entire apartment, carry all your groceries and luggage up several flights of stairs on a regular basis, work full-time, have a social life, and juggle all of the above, constantly having to manage your time and tweak your schedule -- alone? Just because I’m alone doesn’t mean that I’m bored, unhappy, empty, or pathetic. To clarify, I belong to Jesus, and He’ll never leave me or forsake me, so even though I’m alone, I’m technically not by myself. :)

My being single might not necessarily be my fault. Singlehood is a season of life. It is not a problem that needs to be solved. However, I think a relationship would be an extremely delicate equation that God will need to balance. I’m only one variable in the equation. My future man is another important variable. Even my therapist confirmed this for me about 10 years ago. After he helped me through some depression issues, during our last session, I thought he could help me figure out the mystery of how to get a guy. He looked at me like I had asked him a dumb question. I don’t remember his exact response, but he replied blankly, “If you like him and he likes you, then go out with him.” Easier said than done, doc! I’m not the One who’s in control here.

Some things in life were just meant to be a mystery. Some mysteries need to be respected. I can’t speak for everybody, but for myself I can say that I’m beginning to believe that singlehood isn’t some crazy punishment that God has given me. For me, I believe that God has kept me single because He’s been protecting me from some bad things and preserving me for some good things. And I’m OK with that now. And even if He never gives me a husband or a boyfriend or a date or children or a family, I need to be OK with that, too. I need to be OK with belonging to a good God who loves me. Reader, I hope you can be OK with that, too.

Mil gracias por estar aquí conmigo en Here’s What It’s Like To Be Single Theater. [Flamenco music plays in background. Cat lady dances, twirling around wildly while clutching her surprised-looking feline.]

Sparky Friendship!

I realize that I may offend people by what I say in this post, but if that needs to happen, I’m not afraid of it. Hey, it’s Windowbrawl! I’ve got something to say, so I’m just gonna go for it.

Proverbs 27:17 (NKJV) says, “As iron sharpens iron, so a man sharpens the countenance of his friend.” People get warm fuzzies from that verse. Awww, my friend. I love friendship. But do you know what happens when iron sharpens iron? Sparks fly. Clang, clang, clang, bzzzt, bzzzt, bzzzt! Hear that? That’s the sound of conflict. I’m not the first writer to make this observation. I looked online to try to find an official psychological study or something, but I couldn’t find anything that supported my real-life findings. So, I would like to give you my perspective on sparky friendship.

I consider myself a detail-oriented, friendship-oriented person, but I haven’t always been this way. I was very antisocial as a preteen (I was afraid of people, I didn’t know how to interact with people, and I tried to avoid other human beings whenever possible), so these observations on friendship that I’m sharing with you now have mostly occurred in my 20s and 30s. And it’s just an analysis. People are neither objects nor machines. They’re beautifully unpredictable, and I think friendships develop the best when they happen naturally. I’ve discovered that some people like it when friendships develop quickly, and other people like it when friendships take a very long time to develop. I think I fall somewhere in between. I usually like friendship to develop quickly, but I prefer it when both parties in the friendship stick around long enough to make the friendship work.

1) During the beginning stage of a friendship, there are usually warm fuzzies. “Awww, my new friend. I love my new friend.” 2) Then comes the iron-sharpening stage -- the conflict stage. “Hey, you hurt my feelings. Oh, yeah? Well, you hurt my feelings, too.” I think this stage is pretty crucial, because one or both parties may decide to leave the friendship or just let it die. And that’s a perfectly legitimate, perfectly OK thing to do. I’ve learned in the past year or so that friendship is voluntary. (Yes, for some weird reason, I didn’t even know that it was supposed to be voluntary. Long story. And I’ll talk more about this later.) 3) And then there’s the countenance-sharpening stage -- the post-conflict stage. “Hey, I’m glad we worked through this. I know you a lot better now.” Have you ever seen a couple of friends give each other this knowing, inside-joke kind of look? I believe it’s because they’ve sharpened each other’s countenances. They’ve been through stuff together, and they’re starting to understand each other. They’ve helped each other through some things. Proverbs 27:9 (NIV) says, “Perfume and incense bring joy to the heart, and the pleasantness of one’s friend springs from his earnest counsel.” In my opinion, that’s what friends do. They love each other, enjoy each other’s company, help each other, and give each other advice. 4) Finally, there’s the deep-friendship cultivation stage. “I love you as my friend, and I want to be friends with you forever.” In my opinion, this is the most delicate stage, because it’s the one where the entire friendship can be taken for granted. What do you do when you’re trying to grow a plant? You water it, you give it sunlight, and you give it plant food. But if you stop feeding and nurturing it, it could die. Friendships can die in this stage, even after surviving the conflict stage. Is this friendship worth it to you? is it something you want to keep? If so, then feed it. Nurture it. Take the time to care for it. I also think these 4 stages (warm fuzzies → iron-sharpening → countenance-sharpening → deep cultivation) can be repeated in cycles the longer a friendship exists. I also believe a friendship can die during any of these stages. And it’s just an analysis. If you and your friend haven’t gone through all 4 of these stages in order, it certainly doesn’t mean your friendship isn’t legit. Perhaps it’s just beautifully unpredictable.

Going back to the “friendship is voluntary” concept, sometimes you might meet somebody who is unhealthy to have in your life. This is also something I’ve learned recently. If somebody treats me like crap, I don’t have to be their friend. God wants me to love them and be at peace with them, and they might even be my brother or sister in Christ. But if they’re abusive, I certainly don’t need to nurture any kind of friendship with them. Do I believe in second chances? Sure. I’ve totally messed up in my past, too. But I think I choose my friends more cautiously now than I used to (see Proverbs 12:26).

I hope you understand that I’m talking about platonic friendship. Non-sexual, non-weird friendships can go deep and last for a lifetime. One Bible verse that I believe has been misquoted big-time is 2 Samuel 1:26, when David mourns for his deceased friend Jonathan. (I think in modern-day terms, we’d call them BFFs.) David says, “Your love for me was wonderful, more wonderful than that of women.” David and Jonathan were not gay. (To read what I believe about homosexuality, please see my blog entry “Disagreeing with Miley Cyrus” from 4/29/09.) They had a pure, holy friendship. If my friend Liz (if you’re reading this, Ih. :D) were to toast me at my wedding and say, “Tirzah, your love for me is more wonderful than that of men,” I’d probably smile and say, “Right back at ya, chickie.” She wouldn’t be flirting with me. She’d be saying, “Hey, you and I have been through some real stuff together. Iron sharpened iron. Sparks flew. We’ve really gotten to know each other’s hearts. I appreciate your love and your friendship.”

I’ll tell you whose love and friendship I appreciate more than anyone else’s. In John 15:13 (NIV), Jesus says, “Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.” Jesus wanted to be my friend before I ever even knew Him. He lay down His life for me. He died in my place, taking the penalty of my sin on Himself. This was the only way for me to be saved from hell, it was the only way for me to be reconciled to my Father, and it was the only way that He and I could be close friends. Yet He gave His life for me voluntarily. For the record, I consider Jesus to be my Best Friend. The One who will never leave me or forsake me? my Refuge? my Comforter? Yep, He’s the Best. :)

Yeah, that’s right. Clang, clang, clang, bzzzt, bzzzt, bzzzt!

Shmalentine’s Fray

Well, one good thing about being laid off from my job recently is that it’s distracted me from how much I hate Valentine’s Day. (To read my previous opinions, please check out my blog entries “Valentine, Shmalentine” from 4/12/10 and “Singlehood” from 6/30/10.) Yes, God has been healing my heart, restoring my soul, and repairing my spirit, so it has been easier to take VDay with a grain of salt, but if I may speak freely, it still sucks. It’s a “holiday” that I can’t ignore, no matter how hard I’ve tried. I think it’s healthiest to just deal with it head-on and get it over with. Like getting a shot at the doctor. Grr. I hate shots.

I get the impression that people mainly see the point of VDay as giving material things like flowers and candy to their significant others. I see it as a day -- nay, an entire season -- when it’s in my face more than ever that I have no significant other to share the day with. Forget the stupid flowers and candy. You can have them. I’d rather have a man. Hmm. Perhaps I should use a smiley here so the reader won’t think I’m depressed. :) I’m OK. I’m just passionate about this dumb subject. I’m OK with being single. This is a difficult yet very sweet season of life for me. I just don’t like having it thrown in my face that I’m single. I’m not really lonely. I’m angry. OK, another smiley face. :) And an LOL. Yes, even when I’m ticked off, I can have a sense of humor!

It’s been 17 years since I’ve had a significant other to observe VDay with. (I wonder if that’s a record. Where’s Guinness when you need them?) I believe that VDay is a time to celebrate couples’ romantic love. If you don’t have somebody, you’re left out. That’s just the way this particular holiday is set up, in my opinion. There are some who say that you can celebrate how much God loves you and how much you love God. But I think you’re supposed to do that every day. (And if you want a holiday for it, there are already two -- Christmas and Easter.) Then there are some who say that you can celebrate how much you love your children. Again, thank you for the painful reminder that I don’t have children of my own.

For some reason, I’ve noticed that what really ticks me off is when people think I’m with somebody and I’m not. For instance, a few years ago when I was visiting family for Christmas, my dad went to the ER, and my sister and I were debating whether or not to stay in town an extra day to support my mom. One of the well-intentioned nurses gave her two cents and told me I should stay. But I wanted to get home (to my cats). She asked me with a wry grin, “What’s his name?” Look, lady, there’s no man that I’m in a hurry to rush home to. But thank you for the painful reminder! Then this past summer, after a church service was over and I was filing out of the sanctuary with everyone else, I think there was a guy and his family or something sitting next to me, and they entered the aisle, and I offered a lady who was standing in line behind me to go ahead of me. She looked kind of surprised and said, “Oh, I thought you were with him,” and gave me this pursed-lips look -- the same one that one of my aunts gave me when she first met my brother-in-law and thought he was married to me. Um, no, BUT THANK YOU FOR THE PAINFUL REMINDER that I am not with anybody!

Sigh. OK, Tirzah, breathe. Don’t punch anybody in the face today. Ahem. Smiley. :) So, basically, that’s what VDay is for me -- a painful reminder. Not gonna sugarcoat it. You know who else didn’t sugarcoat pain? The psalmists of the Bible, including David. You know what he says in Psalm 62:8? Pour out your heart to God, because He’s a refuge. That’s the safest place to take pain -- to God. He’s the One who fixes it. Incidentally, if you’ve heard me talk about how God set me free from depression, that was one of the main things He taught me -- to keep the flow going. (Gonna use arrows now.) Pour out your heart to God --> receive His love --> pour it out --> receive His love. That way, the pain doesn’t stagnate and fester, which was a very unhealthy thing I allowed to happen in the past.

In my opinion, VDay highlights or even causes a pain that is pretty much inconsolable, except for the God of all comfort. In my journey, I’ve found that kind, encouraging words don’t really help. In terms of coping, just agreeing with me that VDay sucks and/or getting my mind off it with something funny is pretty much the only thing that helps. But in my opinion, the most helpful and effective way of dealing with the VDay-related pain is to just pour it out to God, have a really good cry, and let the God of all comfort hold you while you pour it all out. VDay is a painful reminder of the rejection and the temptation to believe that there is something wrong with me. (Psalm 139 says there isn’t anything wrong with me, and my soul knows it very well.) I need Him to remind me of who I really am. I believe that because I know Jesus, I belong to God. I belong with Him. John 14:23 says that the Father and Jesus make Their home with me. So, after time passes and I actually get a significant other, will VDay still suck? Maybe, but hopefully not. In the future, if I get married, will God the Father and Jesus still make Their home with me? Heck yes, and I need Them to stay as close to me as possible for the rest of my life. (That goes for the Holy Spirit, too. :)) Will I still be OK, even if I never get married? If God is with me, then yes. I don’t want to do anything without Him, anyway (including remaining single involuntarily). :)

Speaking of who I belong to, the above photo is a snapshot of me taking Isaiah 44:5 literally, just for the fun of it. I am the Lord’s. :) And as my purring cat perches on me while I type this, I’m reminded of how I had to take her to the vet today to get her annual shots. Grr. She hates shots, too. It hurts her, and going to the vet’s office once a year makes her very uncomfortable. But today, after several days of psyching her up for the visit, it seemed very helpful and effective to take her out of the pet carrier and hold her close to me when it was time for her examination. I even danced a little bit with her while we were waiting for the doctor. After she received her shots, I held her close to me again. If we weren’t in a public place, I would have sung to her. Hmm. I should try that next year. :) :) Double smileys! And Tirzah is no longer angry. Ha! Much better than flowers and candy.

Equilibrium: The Sequel

Slippery winter weather inspired me to write about equilibrium again. (For reference, please see my blog entry from 12/14/10.) For now, at least between my home and my job, the roads are mostly dry and travelable. However, many of the sidewalks and parking lots are not. Last night after work, while I was carefully walking from my car to my apartment on some iced-over grass, I fell on my knee. It smarted at first, but my thermals cushioned the fall nicely. This morning on the way to work, while I was carefully walking from my apartment to my car, I fell on the side of my butt. It still smarts a tiny bit, but not badly. Actually, the second fall happened barely a few feet away from the original fall, and I’m pretty sure I exclaimed, “Not again!” on my way down.

After I got to work and removed my gloves, I noticed a bruise on the palm of my hand. It’s almost an inch long; you can see me displaying it in the picture above. I’m guessing my hand thwacked on the icy pavement during my fall, because I don’t remember it hurting at first. If I push on it really hard, it hurts, but otherwise it doesn’t bother me at all. What bothers me is that every time I look at it, I’m reminded, “Dang, I fell! Crap, I fell! Aw, man, I can’t believe I fell!” And it’s on the palm of my hand, so it’s not like I can easily avoid looking at it throughout the day. I don’t even think I’ve got bruises on my knee or butt, but this hand bruise -- which is really like an innocent bystander in this whole thing -- is frequently reminding me of something I’d like to forget.

I’m reminded yet again of Psalm 145:14 -- God upholds ALL those who fall and lifts up ALL who are bowed down. We live in a fallen world. As a Christian, I don’t belong to it, but there’s slippery ice -- metaphorically speaking -- all around me. There are so many opportunities in my walk with Christ to get distracted by something and fall. Sometimes, I’m walking along as carefully as I can, things are going just fine, but I mess up, anyway. I don’t want to, but sometimes it happens. And sometimes, I beat myself up for it, staring at the bruise on my hand and going, “Dang, I fell! Crap, I fell! Aw, man, I can’t believe I fell!”

I understand now why my church emphasizes keeping your focus on God and His Kingdom instead of on sin and demonic stuff. I think for most of my Christian life, I’ve been taught, “Don’t sin! Don’t sin! Don’t sin! Aw, look at you! Now you’ve sinned!” Um, hello, that’s because my focus was on the sin. LOL! I’m pretty sure God wants to teach us instead, “You live in My house now. Stick with Me. Eat all you want from My banqueting table. Drink as much as you want from My river of pleasure. Enjoy!”

Psalm 3:3 says that God is my shield and the lifter of my head. He’s the One who basically says, “Yes, you fell, but repent and get up. Don’t be ashamed. Hey, look up at Me. I’m right here. I’ll help you up. Keep going. Keep walking.” I follow Jesus. He’s my Big Brother who’s walked ahead of me and knows how to avoid the slippery places. He’ll show me where to step. He’ll show me where to walk. He’ll show me how slowly or how quickly I should go. If I fall, He’ll pick me up, dust me off, let me cry on His shoulder, and fix my bruises. He encourages me, leads me, and teaches me. I need Him! I love Him!

Speaking of learning, I did feel myself get a bit dizzy yesterday and today (not ice-fall related) because of cold-weather sinus stuff. Not wanting to repeat my 2010 vertigo insanity, I popped a few decongestants. Not again! :)

Eyes on the Conductor

Today, I looked out the window and saw some magic snow! (That’s the kind that falls but doesn’t stick, at least according to my definition (see my blog entry from 12/29/09).) I was concerned that the roads were going to be too terrible to travel on this evening but am relieved they don’t seem all that terrible for now. I have a friend who is going to get baptized tonight, and I don’t want to miss seeing it. It’s winter. It’s supposed to snow. God is the One who brings it. Psalm 147:16 says He spreads snow like wool. Yet He knows that there are important events, at least in my life right now, that some pesky weather conditions shouldn’t hinder. Even as I type this, the sun has even begun to shine.

God’s ways and plans are so much higher than our ways and plans. (See Isaiah 55:8-9.) His timing is impeccable, and I don’t usually understand it, especially when I’m going through some tough stuff, but it blows my mind. He orchestrates things just right. For example, this winter, I’ve got the opportunity to work on some writing projects that I don’t think would go so smoothly if God hadn’t just brought me through some emotional healing. He’s squeezed out some fear that used to be lurking in my soul, and now I’m more freed up to do things like take risks and experiment creatively. That’s something I need to do as a creative writer. I can’t be who God created me to be if I’m weighed down by something like fear of failure or hiding behind something old like fear of rejection. He wants me to soar, like the eagles in Isaiah 40:31, above all the storms, all the odds, and anything that might discourage me from forging ahead. He wants me to fly.

When I played the French horn in junior-high band, I remember the band directors always harping on us to keep our eyes on them. We needed to keep our music stands raised at eye level so we could read our music while constantly glancing at the director, who would constantly signal important things like tempo and dynamic changes. They would often get frustrated with us if we weren’t watching them and missed something important.

God is much more patient with us than my band directors were (no offense to any who might be reading this), but I think He conducts life in His Kingdom in a similar way. It’s almost as if we’re the musicians in His giant orchestra, each with a different instrument and part to play. It’s almost as if He’s the Conductor who knows the plan, knows which part of the music is coming up next, and cues each instrument to come in at the exact time they need to. If we don’t keep our eyes on Him, we could miss something important. If I’m in His orchestra with my French horn waiting for my chance to play, and I get distracted by something (maybe someone in the audience is mocking the orch dorks or the band nerds and making faces), I could miss it. What if I’m supposed to play a solo? I wouldn’t want to mess up something huge like a solo that my Conductor entrusted to me, something that I’ve been practicing and preparing for months ahead of time.

In recent months, as I’ve been praying through decisions and anxieties, God keeps reminding me, “Eyes on Me.” I think as long as I keep following my Conductor, He’ll make sure I play my part when it’s time. He knows the perfect time.

Sigh. The Nutcracker plays quietly on my computer, and memories of the magic snow hang heavily in the crisp air!

Bible verses that make you go, “Aw, snap”

I would cheerfully like to offer you some scriptures that, uh, might not be all that encouraging right away.

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Seldom set foot in your neighbor’s house, lest he become weary of you and hate you. (Proverbs 25:17, NKJV)

My friends and companions avoid me because of my wounds; my neighbors stay far away. (Psalm 38:11, NIV)

You have taken my companions and loved ones from me; the darkness is my closest friend. (Psalm 88:18, NIV)

The poor are shunned even by their neighbors, but the rich have many friends. (Proverbs 14:20, NIV)

Even in laughter the heart may ache, and joy may end in grief. (Proverbs 14:13, NIV)

Open rebuke is better than love carefully concealed. (Proverbs 27:5, NKJV)

Faithful are the wounds of a friend, but the kisses of an enemy are deceitful. (Proverbs 27:6, NKJV)

Let a righteous man strike me -- it is a kindness; let him rebuke me -- it is oil on my head. My head will not refuse it. (Psalm 141:5, NIV)

A rebuke impresses a man of discernment more than a hundred lashes a fool. (Proverbs 17:10, NIV)

Even a fool, when he keeps silent, is considered wise; when he closes his lips, he is counted prudent. (Proverbs 17:28, NASB)

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Uh, I’ll shut up now. LOL

Reflections of the third decade, part IXA

I thought of something that I should add to my previous list -- another important thing I learned about myself in 2010. Did I mention I can be really obsessive? LOL!

4) God made me superabsorbent. I’m a lot like a sponge, or maybe a roll of paper towels. I like to spend lots of time thinking about, chewing on, and digesting things. (This kind of fits with something I learned about myself after I graduated from college -- I’m a kinesthetic learner. I learn by doing. I need repetition and trial and error, and I need to be able to ask questions.) I like to absorb ideas and atmosphere and soak it all in. If I hang around people long enough, I can pick up their good habits and their bad habits. I think the trick is to absorb the good and catch myself before I absorb the bad. (Or better yet, let God show me what I should or shouldn’t be absorbing!) Also, for lack of a better phrase, I can really take a beating. For example, if somebody is having a bad day and they vent crazily or spew emotionally at me, I can usually take it -- I’ll absorb it. In the past, this was bad because I was a doormat. I allowed myself to be people’s punching bag, on a regular basis, and this was unhealthy for me. (This contributed to my past depression.) Now I’m learning to draw boundaries and basically tell people, “OK, that’s enough. Please stop spewing on me.” A few months ago, I took a spiritual gifts test for church, and it surprised me to find out that I’m gifted in martyrdom. This means that I’ll probably be one of the first ones to speak up and say, “Excuse me, but this is right” or “This is wrong, and I don’t care how badly you beat me up. I need to speak up.” Hmm. Another reason why I’m glad I named this blog Windowbrawl. When it’s time to do so, I’ll put up my dukes. Uh-oh, I just thought of something else.

5) I’m a fighter, not a lover. Dang it, no wonder I’m still single! LOL!

Thanks again for reading. :)

Reflections of the third decade, part IX

Here are some random/shocking things I learned about myself in 2010.

1) I am not a social butterfly. And I’m OK with that. I’ve noticed that I usually bond with one person at a time. During social gatherings, I’ll usually be content having a long, deep conversation with one person rather than chitchatting with everybody. What’s especially fun for me is having a conversation with a group of people that I’ve already had one-on-one bonding with. (That happened frequently when I lived in Waco!) I am not an extrovert, meaning that I do not recharge when I’m around people. I am an introvert, meaning that I recharge when I’m by myself. I’m usually not good company during social gatherings if I haven’t had some introverted recharge time beforehand. What might happen is I’ll float away on the magic carpet of being in my own little world. Polka-dot kitties sing nutcracker-suite lullabies while baking chocolate trains.

2) I can be really obsessive. I can be really obsessive. I can be really obsessive. I can be really obsessive. I can be really obsessive. Which can be a bad thing -- for example, if I’m thinking about something depressing. Or it could be a good thing -- for example, if I’m thinking about God’s truth or if I find out that a friend needs prayer. It’s a trait that can come in handy -- for example, when I’ll put the finishing touches on my novel, polishing up details and tying up loose ends.

3) I’m a much pickier eater than I thought I was. I used to tell people, “I’ll eat anything except a baked potato.” Nope, it’s more complicated than that now. I won’t eat food that’s way too spicy, cooked vegetables that taste bitter (i.e., nopalitos, even with egg and salsa), or food that’s way too sweet. Burritos filled with rice offended my taste buds severely this year. Perhaps the most shocking tidbit that I’ve learned is... I don’t like cake. Insert screaming here. I like to celebrate people’s birthdays, but now I dread the distribution of cake. If I take a piece, I’ll usually kind of eat around the icing. One year, my coworkers were kind enough to fulfill my request to not give me a cake for my birthday, so they gave me a cookie buffet instead. Now, THAT was fun. Maybe next year, I should request angel food cake. That stuff’s pretty good, because it isn’t too sweet and doesn’t require icing. (Just as long as I don’t get a baked potato for my birthday. Insert gagging here.) Uh-oh. Now I’m making myself hungry.

Maybe I should check with the kitties to see if the chocolate trains are ready. Then there’s this spot on my magic carpet that needs to be removed. Please excuse me while I board my rice-powered baked potato car to go to the cleaners. Insert chuckling here.

Unwanted? No. Wanted.

This week, I watched the 1964 Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer TV special for the first time in a long time. I realize now why I usually stick to comedies at Christmastime. Rudolph tackles some tough motifs! It was especially hard to watch because of some issues that God has been working on in my life this year.

During the program, Rudolph and his friends end up at a place called The Island of Misfit Toys. It’s also called The Island of Unwanted Toys. It’s a kind of depressing place where unwanted, unusual toys live and wait to be delivered to children who will appreciate them. For example, among the island’s inhabitants are a train with square wheels, a Charlie-In-The-Box, and a cowboy who rides an ostrich. The ruler of the island is King Moonracer, a flying lion. These toys are unwanted. They don’t fit in, and they’re rejected.

This story hits home for me because God has shown me how much I’ve dealt with rejection for my entire life -- not just with remaining single but with tons of other people in other types of relationships. But it’s OK. God is healing me, because He accepts me now.

When I first brought my mixed Siamese kitten home, around 10 years ago, I was roommates with a chick who had a big orange cat (who is my cat now). He did not take kindly to my new kitten at all. She was very friendly toward him and kept initiating with him, I’m assuming because she wanted to be his friend. (She’s the outgoing one. He’s the hermit.) At one point, he hid under my roommate’s bed while my kitten peeked under there. She crept toward him, trilling pleadingly, while he growled maliciously. It was a sad, kind of heartbreaking scene to watch. Basically, he was rejecting her and was being very hostile toward her.

That night, I brought my kitten into my room so she could sleep with me in my bed. Her previous owner told me that my kitten insisted on sleeping with her in her bed, but this bothered her, so she made my kitten sleep outside. I didn’t want that for my kitten. I brought her to my bed. I remember her standing there, staring at me, purring loudly, as if she were saying, “YOU’RE LETTING ME SLEEP HERE WITH YOU, IN YOUR PRIVATE LAIR, CLOSE TO YOU??? I LOVE YOU!!!” Heck yes, kitten. You’re mine now. I want you to be as close to me as possible. (Now she has issues with being too close to me, to the point of poking her whiskers on my face and waking me up in the middle of the night. But that’s another story. LOL) In many ways, this reminds me of how God treats me and wants me to be close to Him, because He accepts me.

OK, that was the cutesy, metaphorical half of this blog post. Now for the scarier, life-and-death half.

I’ve learned that rejection can have the potential to be very dangerous. If you experience a lifetime of friend after friend rejecting you, boyfriend after boyfriend dumping you, or relative after relative neglecting you, you could possibly start to believe lies about yourself. You could possibly start to believe that you are unloveable, unwantable, or that there is just something wrong with you. The way it was explained to me, if I remember correctly, rejection from people can be very dangerous because it could eventually lead to self-rejection.

God has shown me that this was a huge contributor my suicide attempt 10 years ago. I was in an environment where I didn’t quite fit in, I was repeatedly rejected, and I was obsessed with finding my purpose. (I think I’ve previously blogged about how depressed I was leading up to this.) The week before I made a series of bad decisions that led to me trying to take my own life, I was on a mission trip in Boston. It was a fun week overall, and I enjoyed the city. I enjoyed very peaceful times with God when I was by myself. I was praying about where God wanted me to do long-term mission work, and while I was in Boston, I heard Him say, “Stay here.” I excitedly thought He meant that He wanted me to be a missionary in Boston.

But that didn’t happen. I eventually became so fed up with everything and so enraged at God that I did a Jonah-like escape out of town that led to me purchasing medicine that I thought would be enough to kill me. (It wasn’t. Long story that I can sort of laugh at now. LOL) While I took the medication and waited for it to work, I wrote repeatedly in my journal, “Please just let me die.” About an hour later, I noticed I was still alive and excitedly realized that God wanted me to live. (Then I visited the ER and stayed in a psychiatric hospital for 4 days. Yeah, even though it was an extremely serious experience, I can laugh at that now. LOL) I’m convinced now more than ever that if I hadn’t been so angry at God back then, if I hadn’t held Him responsible for my problems, I could have been able to let Him heal me. I’m convinced now more than ever that I really just needed Him and His love. Sometime during my restoration period, He showed me that when He said, “Stay here” in Boston, He meant for me to stay in His presence, close to Him, enjoying Him and His peace. That’s what I needed.

That’s what I still need. 10 years later, God celebrated the 10th anniversary of my suicide attempt and my healing. I thought this was a very strange thing for Him to do, but His grace in doing so totally blew my mind. After I shook my fist at Him and spat in His face, He celebrates my life! I completely don’t deserve His grace or His love. But He gives it to me! (He’ll give it to whoever will let Him.) On the anniversary of what I attempted 10 years ago, I wrote and drew in my journal again. This time, I wrote, “10 years alive. 10 years finally knowing in her heart, mind, & soul what her spirit knew all along... GOD WANTS HER.” Just knowing that God wants me is one of the most freeing truths I’ve learned (and am still learning). I’m not angry with Him now, so now He can heal some of the root issues that drove me to that very dark place 10 years ago.

In John 15:16, Jesus said that I didn’t choose Him. He chose me. Ephesians 1:4 says I was chosen to be holy and blameless in God’s sight. Psalm 139:13 says that God knit me together in my mother’s womb. I don’t think He’d go to all that trouble if He didn’t want me alive. I don’t think Jesus would go to all that trouble to die on the cross for me if He didn’t want me alive spiritually and reconciled to my Father. In John 14:23, Jesus says that if I love Him and obey His teaching, that the Father will love me, and He and Jesus will come to me and make their home with me. I want that. I need that. I need to belong to someone who accepts me and will never leave me. (See also Romans 8. God my Father adopted me!)

In Matthew 22, Jesus tells a story that explains that the Kingdom of Heaven is like a king who prepares a wedding banquet for his son. He invites people who don’t come and/or ignore the invitation. If you read through it, you’ll see that it’s kind of a violent story. Rejecting the king’s invitation had some serious consequences. But the king wanted people to come to his banquet. He had his servants go out to the streets and bring anyone they could find to the banquet.

This is what my God is like. Maybe He sent a banquet invitation to someone somewhere who might be way more qualified and way more worthy than I am. But maybe they told God no. And maybe God invited me instead. Maybe He sent an invitation that said something like, “Dear Tirzah, now is your chance for Me to remove every negative label that’s been stuck to you throughout the years and replace it with a better one: ‘Mine.’ If you accept this invitation, you will be Mine. You will come to My banquet, be My guest, and enjoy My food.” When I accepted Jesus as my Savior, I got saved from the serious consequences and got adopted into a Heavenly family instead. Jesus’ death on the cross makes this all possible. I think by telling this story before He died, He was inviting anyone who was listening.

If you’re reading this, you can know God’s love and acceptance, too. You can accept Jesus as your Savior, too, because you can’t have access to God the Father except through Jesus. (See John 14:6.) In a way, God is like King Moonracer, the lion who rules over the previously unwanted toys. In a way, God is like me when I brought my new kitten home and wanted to share my private resting place with her in a way that her previous owner wouldn’t. God wants me, and I believe He wants you, too. You don’t have to be rejected. No. You can be accepted. You are not unwanted. No. You are wanted.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! :)

Equilibrium

A couple of weeks ago, I was hit with a really crazy illness. I didn’t go to the doctor because I just don’t like to see doctors unless I need an ER. (They usually just tell me, “You’re healthy as a horse, you need to take care of yourself, you’ll feel better in a few days, and now you owe me $60.” LOL!) So, based on my symptoms and comparing them with stories that some friends shared with me, I basically just had a sinus problem. After some decongestant, serious bed rest, and lots of prayer, I’m healthy as a horse again. (Thanks again, everyone who’s reading this, who prayed for me. :))

What happened was, I got a very, very, very bad dizzy spell that lasted for about 4 or 5 days. Sometimes, I get dizzy spells when I’m sleep-deprived, so some sleep and/or caffeine make them go away. But this time, it was very, very, very bad. This is a public blog, so I’ll spare you the details of how sick the dizziness made me. I almost went to the ER, and I was pretty scared at a few points. Another thing that concerned me was that I hoped I didn’t inherit the benign vertigo condition that my mom suffered from. (Her medical treatment involved a doctor slowly moving her head in certain directions and her not moving or bending over for 3 days.) I was very blessed and relieved to still be able to take care of myself during my entire illness.

What was so crazy was the dizziness -- I’ve seriously never had balance problems that were that bad. Being sober and not being able to walk a straight line was scary. My vision swirling counterclockwise every few seconds was freaky. Teeter-tottering all over the place, even smacking my head down on my pillow when I’d lie down, well... let’s just say I was sore from several days of constantly steadying myself. A friend of mine suggested that I plant one leg on the floor to steady myself, as an anchor. I didn’t get a chance to try that, but frankly, I hope I wouldn’t have that opportunity again. :) I’m very thankful that I’m 100% well now, but I learned a lot while I was sick.

From what I understand, I got sick because stuff from my sinuses drained into my inner ear. In the human body, where is the equilibrium controlled? In the head, in the inner ear. What happens when the inner ear gets out of whack? WHAM, it throws the entire body off balance. In the body of Christ, who is the Head? Christ. (See Ephesians 4:15.) If something happens in our church family, who controls the equilibrium and brings us back to where we need to be? Christ. Who is our Anchor? Christ.

While we’re living in this world, life can hit us hard. WHAM. Sometimes, several things come at us all at once or in succession. You lose your job, you break up with your boyfriend, someone hurts your feelings, a dream gets crushed, you get sick. WHAM, WHAM, WHAM, WHAM, WHAM. How can anyone regain their balance, and keep from falling, after getting hit so many times? Christ. In Matthew 7:24-28, Jesus explains that whoever hears and does what He says to do is like a wise man who builds his house on a rock. The weather and the elements beat harshly against the house -- WHAM, WHAM, WHAM -- but it didn’t fall because it had a good foundation. I’m also comforted to know that Psalm 145:14 says God will uphold all those who fall and lift up all who are bowed down. I’m sure He’ll do that for whoever will let Him. :)

I’m also sure glad He won’t charge me $60 every time I ask Him to fix me. LOL!

He loves me! He loves you! He loves us!

My little girl cat often takes naps in my closet, on top of a box, underneath some of my hanging clothes. But earlier this summer, I noticed her creeping deeper into the closet to take naps near some taller, messier piles. I moved into my apartment in phases, and housecleaning isn’t my forte, so my closet has been kind of a disaster area. Over the past few years, I’d just toss in a new shipment of boxes or other memorabilia from my childhood into the closet, and it would collect dust and cat hair in storage. So, the little one would burrow into the cluttered depths, where she was not authorized to go, and I was concerned for her safety. So, last month, I cleaned out my closet a little bit. I removed most of everything off the floor and vacuumed the carpet. I threw a few things away and combined other things into one container. I replaced some containers and rearranged a little. It isn’t pristine, and it’s still cluttered, but it’s slightly more organized, slightly cleaner, and (at least to my eyes) much safer. Now my little cat can take naps in there without freaking me out.

The thing about cats is that they’re very routine-oriented creatures who tend to freak out if their routine changes in any way. My taking almost 3 hours to empty, clean, and rearrange my closet definitely busted my cats’ routine. While all this was happening, my big cat came to me, meowing/whining loudly. I picked him up, hugged him, and comforted him. My little girl cat settled onto my bed and lounged quietly while I sang to her with some music that I had playing in the background. (I think it was The Carpenters, but I don’t completely remember.)

I think I’ve mentioned this before, but God uses my cats to teach me and show me what He’s like. (Some people have children. I have cats.) I believe that in the same way that my cats were either freaking out or calmly enduring my closet-cleaning, and I delighted to comfort them and show them affection, God does the same thing anytime we respond to a metaphorical housecleaning, trauma/tragedy, or trial, etc. (See Psalm 34:18 and Zephaniah 3:17.) He wants to be near us, comfort us, and save us.

I love my cats. I don’t want anything bad to happen to them. I know they’re “just” cats, but they’re MY cats. I want them to stay with me for as long as possible, so I pray that God keeps them healthy and protects them. I think about them pretty frequently. In fact, I often catch myself imagining how I can serenade them. Yes, I’m a grown woman, and I like to sing to my cats. :”> I’m most aware of this anytime I’m at work and then I break my concentration by gazing at pictures of my cats. I daydream about how I can sing something new to them, and I want to pet them and show them affection even though I’m miles away and won’t be home for a while. When I’m with them, I tell them very frequently that I love them.

I dote on my cats. My Facebook friends are probably tired of me sharing pictures of my cats, but sorry, they’re part of my life, so anyone within earshot (even in cyberspace) is gonna get an earful. :) In fact, let me dote right now. Here is a picture of a snuggle time with my big orange cat several months ago.

It was winter, and he would come to me while I was on my computer and snuggle very close. (He’s got his arm draped around my hand there.) And here is a recent snapshot depicting a very typical scene of my little girl cat.

She likes to be as close to my computer as possible whenever I’m on it. (I’ve got my hand on her head there.)

Have I mentioned that I love my cats? You’re probably tired of hearing it. But my heart overflows with love for them. I love them because I’m their Mom, and they’re my cats. Nothing they could do could make me love them less or more. Whenever they show me love and affection, for example by snuggling close to me and/or purring and/or scraping my hand with their tongues, it delights me more than I can do justice to express with mere words. However, just because I love them doesn’t mean they can do whatever they want. Because they live in my household, they need to groom themselves, do their business in the litterbox, treat each other (and me) nicely, wear their collars, stay indoors, and stay away from unauthorized locations where they could damage themselves or my property (sinks, counters, the fireplace, etc.). Sure, there are some rules and guidelines to follow, and I train them and condition them to do so. I keep a close eye on them because foolishly disobeying me could cause them to hurt themselves. But other than that, they have freedom in my household to be the cats that they were designed to be. I love them, and want them to thrive.

I believe it’s the same way with God and His children. Jeremiah 29:11 says that He thinks good thoughts towards us. Isaiah 49:15-16 says He won’t forget us and that He has us engraved on the palms of His hands. John 3:16 says He loved us so much that He gave His only Son Jesus to die for us so we could have life with Him. (See also 1 John 4:10.) Isaiah 43:4 says we are precious and honored in God’s sight and that He loves us. 1 John 4:8 says that God IS love, and verse 19 says that we love because God loved us first! Verse 18 says that perfect love casts out/drives out fear! As I allow God to love me and make me into the woman He designed me to be, I become more and more secure in Him, I fear less and less, and I thrive.

When my little girl cat got spayed as a kitten, she had kind of a rough time. She got kind of obsessed with her stitches and started licking/scraping at them with her tongue until she got a stinky infection. She had to stay inside her cat carrier until she healed. (I was able to spend a lot of time with her because I was unemployed, but that’s another story.) She is a very social animal. I don’t think she enjoyed being separated from the world in that carrier, but she needed to stay in there so she could heal properly. I stayed with her and did all I could for her. Because she couldn’t snuggle with me at night like she usually did, I put her carrier on a table and scooted it close to my bed so she could be near me. I heard her purring in the darkness, and it made me happy. Years later, long after she’s healed just fine, I still remember those days fondly, and the cat carrier is like a second home to her. (Seriously. It usually doesn’t take much coaxing to get her to climb in there, even for a vet visit! My big cat is another story.)

Similarly, in Isaiah 43, God tells His people to fear not, for He has redeemed them. “You are Mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you... When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned.” When we belong to God and He does some housecleaning or if we experience trauma/tragedy or trial, He wants to be right there with us, healing us, helping us, and making sure we have everything we need. He loves us and wants to be with us, shower His love on us, and enjoy us loving Him back.

When God was healing me from depression, I needed to stop believing that I needed to do a whole bunch of stuff for God. This was a very gradual process, and it involved years of reading and thinking about Psalm 46, especially verse 10 (where God says, “BE STILL and know I am God”). I was so anxious anytime I wasn’t busying myself with doing stuff, and it was very healing for me to observe my cats’ life in my household. I noticed that they wouldn’t anxiously run up to me every few minutes and say, “WHAT DO I DO NOW, MOM?? IS IT TIME FOR ME TO GROOM MYSELF YET??? AM I SUPPOSED TO GO FIND A MOUSE NOW OR SOMETHING????” No way. They’re cats, so they do cat things whenever it’s time to do them. (Yes, they’re animals, and they live their lives by their instincts, and humans live their lives by their reason, and we Christians live our lives by faith, but the metaphor still helped me. See Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 and Psalm 147:10-11.) In the first picture I shared above with my big orange cat, my little girl cat is in the background, just above the center and to the right -- not sure if you can tell, but she’s ASLEEP. She isn’t being lazy or irresponsible. She’s a cat. Cats nap frequently, so she’s taking a NAP. She’s RESTING.

It’s the same way with Christians! We belong to Jesus, we belong in God’s household, we belong in the Kingdom of God, so we do Kingdom things. We pray, read the Bible, tell people about our faith, go on mission trips, give to the poor, love our enemies, forgive those who wrong us, etc., because these are Kingdom things. Yes, we have a relationship with Father God who loves us, we seek His face, and we inquire in His temple (see Psalm 27:4), and we ask Him about His will and His timing and surrender everything to Him. But I really think the gist of it is that we live in His Kingdom, so we do Kingdom things whenever it’s time to do them. And yes, we REST, too.

Uh, have I mentioned that I love my cats? Thanks for reading, but if you’ll excuse me, it’s time for a snuggle session. :D

Tirzah’s Travel Thoughts: Oklahoma-Missouri 2010

In the past, I’ve often gotten depressed when people talk about their traveling, and I complain about how I’ve never been “anywhere.” This year, I wanted to do something about it. :) My very good friend Liz from Missouri invited me to see her in the Show-Me State about 16 years ago, and last month, I finally got to go! Instead of flying, I took a road trip so I could actually SEE America (and because driving is CHEAPER).

♫ Ooook-lahoma! ♫
I’ve visited Oklahoma before, with family, but in a different part of the state. You know how every small town in Texas has a Dairy Queen? I discovered that every small town in Eastern Oklahoma has a Braum’s. There are also plenty of Arby’s here and in Missouri. I ordered a salad at an Oklahoma Arby’s, but they got confused and thought I had ordered a salad that had been discontinued or something, so they gave me a different salad instead. There was turkey, bacon, and regular lettuce on top and shredded lettuce on the bottom. It was OK. (Rimshot.) But I might not order any more salads at Arby’s or Sonic, which also shreds their lettuce. (I’m making a big deal about fast-food salads because this topic has recently fascinated me. See my post from 10/11/09.)

I’ve lived in Texas all my life, so I’ve seen cows all my life. But on this road trip, I was struck at how many cows in Oklahoma (and Missouri) like to herd together under a tree and also take a dip in the pond on a hot summer day. Or maybe there just aren’t that many trees or ponds in West Texas to hang out at... I also passed 4 casinos on the road. Near the Missouri border, I took an Oklahoma toll road and paid $2 to travel about 38 miles. When compared to the Dallas toll roads (where you pay like $1 every few miles), it wasn’t as pretty, but it was a pretty good deal.

The people were friendly, and the scenery was beautiful! Next year, I should actually stop the car and take pictures, rather than take snapshots while I’m driving...


Show me Missouri!
My brother-in-law once told me that there isn’t anything in Missouri. I respectfully, severely disagree. Missouri reminds me of Texas! Except the trees are taller, the barns are quainter, and the landscape is prettier. I believe it was either on Route 5 or Highway 54 where I saw some chickens following a strutting rooster out on someone’s front lawn. I was particularly impressed with Osage Beach, which looks to me like they could film Hallmark movies there (if they haven’t already). The pictures I snapped from my car wouldn’t even begin to do it justice. However, I would like to share a photo I took near Columbia. It’s beautiful out there, especially at dusk!


My very good friend Liz drove me to St. Louis, where we toured the City Museum and visited the Arch! It was a very hot, very sweaty day, but I had tons of fun. (And I’m thankful that all the sweat didn’t show up in the pictures.)


Land of Lincoln!
Then on our way back, we got lost for about 5 minutes in ILLINOIS!! I was in ecstatic shock. First I visit Missouri for the first time, and then I accidentally/spontaneously visit Illinois for the first time!

Conclusion
This was the first summer in a long time that I’ve had the opportunity to travel for fun (versus traveling to take care of business or visit family -- not that visiting family isn’t fun!). I usually work during the summers or work overtime. This was the first time I had traveled out of state alone, and it was the farthest Northeast I had ever traveled alone. God protected me, and we had fun. What a completely, totally awesome trip! :)

Singlehood

During a recent sermon, my pastor humorously explained that you can tell if God has called you to be single (versus called to be married) by performing a simple test. Look at a picture of someone of the opposite sex, and then look at a picture of a cactus. If you can’t tell the difference, you’re probably called to be single. After the church service was over, while I walked to the parking lot, anytime I would pass a man along the way, I thought to myself, “That is not a cactus.” LOL!

I don’t want to stomp on anyone’s testimony, but it kind of annoys me when people say something like, “I was old when I got married; I was 30.” Technically, yes, 30 was pretty old to be getting married, say, back in the 70s when my parents tied the knot. But I’m 34 and unmarried. Does that make me ancient? I haven’t had a date since I was 18. I have no ex-husband, no children, and no boyfriend. I’m single-single-single. And I’m not complaining. It’s just that I’ve had plenty of time to make plenty of observations about being single.

If anyone asks me if I’m married and I reply no, I hate it when the next question is “Why?” Sigh. If only it were so easy to answer. Asking me why I’m not married kind of makes me angry. Is the question-asker assuming that I’ve actually chosen singlehood? I think I usually just reply with a shoulder shrug, and then the question-asker thankfully usually doesn’t pry further, or they talk about their own marriage journey, or they think out loud about who they can set me up with. Because answering the “Why?” thoroughly would require me explaining my past history in all its painful, gory detail. Also, if the question-asker would assume I’m gay (see my blog entry from 4/29/09), it would reinforce how little the question-asker really knows me. Again, sigh!

I mentioned on previous posts (4/12/10 and 4/17/10) that I left MySpace, and it was because I didn’t appreciate the way people were treating me on there. In many cases, I felt like a piece of meat. When I listed my marital status as “Single” and that I was looking for “Friendship,” it did NOT mean, “Hey, everybody, I’m into kinky stuff.” It meant, “I’m single. I’m on MySpace for platonic friendship. No cryptic messages attached.” It got to where I stopped friending guys who only had pictures of booby women on their profiles (because it was kinda obvious what their online intentions were). One guy, a perfect stranger from a foreign country, practically proposed, although judging from his generic message, I’m guessing he sent it to every woman he vaguely wanted.

I’m not saying it’s a bad idea to make friends and meet potential boyfriends online. I sent MySpace friend requests to a couple of (celebrity) guys I had crushes on. :”> I don’t think I did anything weird -- I just sent a simple friend request... that they ignored. One guy ignored 2 of my requests. Hey, life goes on. What I’m saying is that there’s a healthy way to chat with people online, especially in a platonic friendship, without practically proposing.

One guy, whom I’ll call “Y,” probably doesn’t know yet how to do this the healthy way. As I mentioned, I was on MySpace for platonic friendship purposes. I got a friend request from “Y,” a perfect stranger who seemed harmless, so I added him. Almost immediately, he started sending me messages just to make small talk, I guess because he wanted to chitchat. In case you haven’t noticed by now, I don’t really make small talk with perfect strangers online. I send them a link to my blog and give them a deep conversation! :o) Anyway, after a few days of very surface-level chitchat messages, I was like, “Hey, no offense, but I’m not comfortable chatting with perfect strangers online. I looked at your profile, and you don’t list very much information about yourself.” He was like, “I understand. No problem.” Then he IMed me on MySpace. (Almost no one ever IMed me on MySpace.) So, I prayed about it and got the impression that “Y” was only after one thing. I pretty much nipped it in the bud during that one IM chat. He was like, “Where do you work?” And I told him. He was like, “Interesting. What do you do for fun?” I was like, “I go to church.” He was like, “Oh. Uh, I guess you and I have different ideas of fun.” And then he completely stopped chatting with me and removed me from his friend list shortly thereafter! I was like, Thanks a lot! Heh. After all that trouble -- being open to developing a friendship with some chatty online stranger and then trying to figure out what his intentions were, only to be dropped when I suddenly mentioned church? I guess that might fall into the category of being blessed when people exclude you for Jesus’ sake (see Luke 6:22), but to me, “Y” communicated more along the lines of, “Oh. You’re NOT that kind of girl. See ya!” Maybe I’m still single because God has been protecting me from some bad stuff.

What’s probably worse than being treated like a piece of meat, however, is having unrequited love -- one of the most acute emotional pains ever known to humankind. I don’t think I’d ever wish it on anybody. Seriously!! Without going into details, there was a time when I thought I was in love with a man, but I wasn’t. (I listed it briefly on a post on 6/10/09.) Any feelings I had for him went away pretty quickly after I broke up with him. In processing through it afterwards, and in getting involved in the life of another guy who I developed some deeper feelings for, I got to understand firsthand what love is like. Love is something that lingers. It builds up in the deep places of your heart and soul, and it takes root so strongly that it will not easily leave when you try to uproot it. No, it makes itself at home inside your very being, causing happiness and pain simultaneously in a way that makes you want to either shout melodically from the rooftops or smush your face into your living-room carpet with a box of Kleenex and a steady stream of tears. Love makes you want the object of your affections to be as happy as possible, whether they’re with you or not. Whether they return your love or not. Whether they know how you feel or not. It’s being willing to serve unnoticed, willing to adjust the little details of your life, willing to let go. And when that love is unrequited, unreturned, you HAVE TO let go. Even if it means doing so in a gut-wrenching, soul-wrenching, heartbreaking process that takes a few long, agonizing years.

I think I might still be going through this process. :) It is painful, but as a creative artist, I like to take refined pain and shape it into something that will cathartically help me and hopefully help others. I’ve learned a LOT. One important thing I’ve learned is that even though I want to get married someday, I’d much rather be single than be with the wrong guy. If, over time, the kind of love that I mentioned in the previous paragraph isn’t something that I have for a guy, or if it isn’t returned, I’ll probably get out of that relationship. :)

The love that I’ve spoken about in this post is romantic love. But there is a much greater love than that -- an unconditional love that I hope to write about in my next post.

Now anytime anyone gets curious about my marital status, I can just send them a link to this post! Whoo-hoo! :D

My thoughts about the immigration debate

I’m not an expert in politics, and I only keep up with the news now pretty much just enough to get by, but I still would like to explain my point of view on illegal immigration, specifically regarding immigrants from Mexico.

If you’ve read any of my blog in the past few years, you probably know that my mom and half my family are originally from Mexico. (For info on my background, see “Half-breed power!” and “Hey! Are you toleratin’ me?” that I reposted on 4/12/10. For my opinion about government, healthcare, and immigrants who take advantage, see my post from 10/24/09.) I LOVE the United States of America, and as I get older, I appreciate our freedoms more and more. I would love for as many immigrants as possible, from Mexico and anywhere else, to live here and enjoy America -- my America! But I also believe we should keep our borders secure and enforce the law. I’m a natural-born citizen, but my mom and her family immigrated here from Mexico legally and became naturalized citizens years later. I believe that anyone who immigrates to the U.S. must do so legally.

My parents live in Texas near the Mexican border, so whenever I drive back home from visiting them, I pass through a border patrol checkpoint. It’s usually a very mellow event that only takes 10 to 15 minutes of my time. The traffic slows down, I and my car wait in line, and an officer asks me if I’m an American citizen while he briefly glances inside my car. I reply yes, he says thank you, and I proceed with my road trip. (There is usually a K-9 on duty, and it’s a good thing I’m not into drugs, because the animal would sniff them out pretty quick.) I’m sure these border patrol officers are doing a great job, but in my opinion, this is pretty minimum security. I wouldn’t mind at all if these checkpoint stops were much stricter, like if I had to show the officer my driver’s license or prove my citizenship, even if it meant taking up more of my time. If tightening the reins keeps me and my country safe, it’s worth it.

I’ve never been to Arizona, so I don’t know how things are out there. Quite frankly, if it’s anything like West Texas, it might be a place where racism is accepted or even encouraged. So, maybe their controversial immigration law is a terrible thing because it could potentially stir up even more racism. But what if it’s just a law that facilitates law enforcement officers’ authority to simply enforce the law?

This is a very silly example, but just say for the sake of argument that it is illegal to carry gummi bears inside bandanas. Even though the law is on the books, many people have chosen to ignore it and wrap gummi bears inside their bandanas and smuggle them everywhere, anyway. People wearing bandanas bulging with gummi bears stand outside movie theaters and grocery stores and hold picket signs, chanting that they have every right to keep gummi bears in their bandanas because they live in this great country. So, lawmakers pass a new law that requires police officers to inspect any bandanas they see anyone wearing and check for gummi bears. Anyone caught will be forced to give up their gummi bears and bandanas. Um, I don’t think it would be considered profiling if a police officer pulled over a motorist for speeding, for example, and noticed that the driver happened to be wearing a bandana and asked to inspect it for gummi bears. I think it would be considered common sense.

One evening about 2 or 3 years ago, I came across a Nickelodeon special that dealt with immigration. They interviewed a little girl whose family was here from Mexico illegally. She spoke English well and was enrolled in school here. But anytime her family heard that “la migra” (border patrol) was in their neighborhood, she and her entire family would stay quietly inside their house and try to make it look like they weren’t home. (Kind of like how the people in The Diary of Anne Frank would stay as quiet as possible during the day.) During these times when “la migra” was cracking down, no one in her family would go to school or work for fear of being caught and deported. And it is a legitimate fear. But that sounds like a terrible way to live. What kind of life is that? And what kind of lesson are that little girl and her siblings learning? That it’s OK to break the law as long as you don’t get caught?

The immigration issue can often be a tragic one: Families can be separated and people can even die trying to cross the border to freedom, albeit illegally. But I, for one, do not want this next generation to be a lawless one. I want all residents of American soil to enjoy the freedoms that our forefathers founded for us, and I want all immigrants to respect American freedoms and laws. God bless America -- my America!

Cataerobics: Final update!

If you’re curious about my battle with Tommy’s weight loss, please see my posts from 4/24/09 and 5/30/09.

Victory! Tommy weighed in at 12 and a half pounds this year, losing approximately 2 and a half pounds! (At first, I thought the scale was broken.) Hallelujah!! :) I kinda gave up on doing Cataerobics, so I mainly just micromanaged his food intake and switched to a Purina variety that helps with weight control. A few times, I fed him canned food instead of dry, like his vet suggested last year, but the vast majority of his meals consisted of dry food. I could barely tell any difference, but maybe you can now. The BEFORE picture was taken in 12/09...

...and the AFTER picture was taken earlier this evening.

In case you’re curious, I did download some tunes from the Flashdance soundtrack, but not for Tommy -- for me, the maniac. ‘Cause I’m dancin’ like I’ve never danced beforrrrre.