Reflecting on the Changes

A few years ago when I was struggling through a difficult season of emotional healing and taking a step back from some of my favorite activities, a friend prayed 1 Peter 5:10 over me:

 

“... may the God of all grace, who called us to His eternal glory by Christ Jesus, after you have suffered a while, perfect, establish, strengthen, and settle you” (NKJV).

 

My word for 2022 was “settling.” I hoped that that would mean that I would be settling into a new job, a new season of life, but 2022 seemed to unfold a bit differently for me. God shook things up in my world, and often after things are shaken, they need to settle down—outwardly and inwardly. 

If you’ve followed my blog over the years, perhaps you remember that I left the bottom shelf of one of my bookcases empty so that I could fill it with textbooks when I went back to school. As you can see, that shelf is full and has overflowed onto the shelves above it! Those are my training-to-be-a-worship-pastor textbooks and grad-school textbooks on the bottom shelf, grad-school textbooks and worship-degree class notes on the second shelf, and grad-school class notes on the top shelf (along with some VHS tapes and CDs). Not pictured are the textbooks that I sold back and the Kindle textbooks. Even though my future is more of a giant question mark than ever before, I know that I have/will have degrees in writing, worship, and theology... and I suspect that all three of those disciplines will be in my future somehow.

 

 

All of the Changes

 

Since the whole point of me going back to school was to receive training to be a worship pastor, I had hoped (and still hope) that God would place me in that type of role. Meanwhile, as I have been waiting—and attempting to put myself in a better place while I wait—2022 ended up bringing me changes in nearly every area of my life:

• new apartment
• new work building 
• new work desk and cubicle
• new degree plan
• new phone
• new glasses 
• new second job (which I quit, as described in a previous post)
• new Bible (graduation present)
• new way of doing choir (something awesome that I’ll learn more about in 2023)
• new vet for MeepMeep (just for her dental care)
• new way of brushing my teeth (due to tooth extraction)
• new wave of bitterness (as mentioned in previous posts)
• new entertainment obsession (as described below)
• new educational interest (as described further below)

When the Harry Potter movies were first released, I was hanging around a group of Christians that was very hypersensitive with their entertainment (if they ever enjoyed any type of entertainment). I’m sorry, but these folks were just anti-fun. Specifically, since witchcraft is forbidden in the Bible, they condemned anything related to Harry Potter, so I was programmed to avoid it, too. But as the years went by, I noticed that Christians whom I respected were fans of the movies and books. Around the early part of summer 2022, I got very curious about Harry Potter and watched several movie clips on YouTube... and I was like OH MY GOSH THIS IS AWESOME!!! So, I found a cheap used set of all eight Harry Potter movies on Amazon and have been bingeing them ever since. (Movie #6 is currently in my DVD player.) Turns out, the author of the Harry Potter books is a Christian and uses Christian symbolism in Harry’s story. So, in 2022 I became very acquainted with the movies, and maybe in 2023 I’ll get to start reading the books!

 

God had warned me that I would reach a low point in 2022, and I ended up doing that with a brief bout with depression, etc. (I’m actually still working through some bitterness issues.) Harry Potter has been a healthy source of cathartic entertainment for me. Besides the symbolism and the ingenious storytelling, it has also nurtured in me a desire to learn and to teach others (Harry is a student at a boarding school). It reminds me that school is a time to learn about myself and discover my passions.

 

 

A Discovery

 

So, on paper, I’m qualified to write/edit and to be a worship pastor, and I’m currently working on the qualifications to become a professor. This past semester, as I began to learn about theology and church history, I also discovered something new about myself: I like history.

 

Wait. What?

 

I know that I’m artsy-fartsy, and I can sometimes express myself better with music than I can with English, but I didn’t realize that I actually like learning about history. As I’ve thought about this, I’ve realized that I learn about history for fun (OverSimplified is one of my favorite YouTube channels), and I remembered how much time I spent reading for my AP History class in high school. 

 

More specifically, after my Christian history class ended in October, I found myself bored while reading through regular theological materials. Okay, okay, so lots of different theologians believe differently than I do. I get it. But where’s the action? Getting to read about historical events is more exciting for me. Even more specifically, I’ve discovered another new thing about myself: I like learning about heresies. 

 

Wait. WHAT???

 

I’ve realized that I love to learn about heresies—unorthodox beliefs that I really don’t agree with such as Gnosticism, adoptionism, any other -isms that teach that Jesus isn’t God, isn’t human, or isn’t One with the Father and the Holy Spirit. Realizing this about myself alarmed me: Won’t I get messed up if I dig deeply into this stuff?

 

Nope. I know that all of that stuff is false, so reading about it is like reading a science-fiction novel. (I even read a book awhile back that was written by a lady who survived life in a cult.) Heresies are exasperating and entertaining all at the same time. Church history and heresiology: my new interests. 

Macho and Choochie weren’t around when I was in school, but MeepMeep has been here. She’s the perfect study buddy.

 

 

Pottery and Pastry

 

But meanwhile, waiting for God to place me in a ministry job has been very difficult. Watching people around me getting promoted while I’m still either doing entry-level work or waiting in the wings has sometimes been torturous. Watching other people get chosen while I feel rejected yet again has felt awful... but God reminds me that He sees me, He’s already chosen me, and I just need to be available. (Even if I’m just a doorkeeper in His house, Psalm 84-style.) Sharing my heart and my dreams with someone only to have them not listen is always awful... but God reminds me that He’s always listening.

 

He’s shown me that 2022 was a year of “unwelcome change” for me. Some of those bigger changes that I listed above were definitely unwelcome, but I think He’s been changing me in the process.

 

You know that “You are the potter, we are the clay” verse in the Bible (Isaiah 64:8)? It might not be as warm and fuzzy as you might think. Lately, I’ve been watching pottery videos on YouTube and observing what the potters do. Pottery is not a quick and easy task. The potter chooses the clay, beats the heck out of it, smacks it onto a wheel, adds some water to soften it, forms it, shapes it, forms it, shapes it, forms it and shapes it some more, lets it dry a little, trims it, decorates it, glazes it, and then burns the heck out of it. It’s a long but delicate process. If the potter is too harsh with the pot, he or she will ruin the design or break it. When that happens, the potter doesn’t repair the pot; he or she has to start all over again. But it’s a process that the potter is willing to embrace; he or she has the patience for it.
 
I know that in this season, God has been preparing me, pruning me, refining the heck out of me, and preparing and pruning and refining some more. I think a great deal of the “settling” in 2022 has actually been in my soul. Rather than getting worked up about how things aren’t going my way, I’ve increasingly caught myself being okay with them, talking and grieving through them with God, and being more able to accept them.

 

I didn’t do that. God did.

 

While I was at church one Sunday this past year, a lady whom I recognized from the church’s prophetic team introduced herself to me during the video announcements and said that she had a word for me. She saw a picture of a cinnamon roll and said that there’s a lot of work involved in making cinnamon rolls, but in the end it’s worth it. She said that I’ve asked God why He’s been rolling up things in my life, hiding them, and cutting them away, but it’s all part of the process. In the end, He’s going to pour out a sweet anointing.

 

Cool, I’ll take it!

 

 

Looking Ahead

 

For me, 2022 was a year of “unwelcome change,” but 2023 will be a year of “welcome change.” At the beginning of last year, I felt a sense of warning when God would talk to me about 2022, but at the beginning of this year, I feel a sense of excitement as He talks to me about 2023. 

My word for this year is “fantastic.” According to the dictionary on my laptop, it’s a word that means “extraordinarily good” or “imaginative or fanciful,” and it comes from a Greek word that means “visible.” Maybe that means that the awesome stuff I’ve been waiting for will be revealed. Or maybe I’ll end up going through some really huge trials that will be way more than I ever imagined. Hopefully the former, or perhaps a mixture, but God will help me through it all. I know that He has good things planned for all of us!

 

Happy New Year!

 

What I Learned During the Past Four Months

As I mentioned in my previous post, I needed to get another part-time job so that I could make ends meet. During the interview process, I agreed to work there for at least four months, so I did that and have now moved on. Time to rest! This has been a mighty exhausting ride. I learned some things—and not just in seminary. (OH MY GOSH THE APOSTLE PAUL WAS NOT A GNOSTIC JUST BECAUSE HE WAS MORE SPIRITUAL THAN YOU ARE DOESN'T MEAN HE WAS A GNOSTIC SO JUST GET THAT THOUGHT OUT OF YOUR HEAD) What I’d like to do here is share some of the big highlights.

1. God’s grace really can pull you through stuff. I have just lived through one of the most exhausting seasons that I have ever lived through. I would peel myself out of bed in the mornings (after hitting the snooze button multiple times), drive to my day job to work 10-3, then drive to my night job to work 4-9, then drive home and finally take a break, then do grad-school homework, then have a quiet time, and then fall asleep so that I could wake up and do it all over again the next day. In between all of that, I would need to read for my classes. On Saturdays, I would rest. On Sundays, I would do even more homework, try to catch up on reading, and try to do a tiny bit of housework. There wasn’t really much time for adulting or being human. (I took a few days off here and there from my night job, which helped, but it was still rough.)

That was August-October. From June-August, I did all of the above minus the homework, plus an hour and a half of vegging out after I’d get home at night. And I haven’t even mentioned needing to squeeze in some editing work for clients a couple of times. June-August was exhausting, but August-October was exhausting upon exhausting.

But I made it through. The only explanation I have is that God pulled me through. I honestly didn’t think that I’d make it this long with such an insane schedule, but God helped me—every step of the way.

2. A little perspective can go a long way. After years of not being able to read up close, wearing reading glasses over my regular glasses like that crazy lady on a reality TV show, and needing to take my glasses off so that I can read my phone, a very generous friend blessed me with bifocals! They’re very convenient, and I love them.

 

But I couldn’t quite see right away when I first got them. I thought maybe my eyes just needed to get used to them, but then I noticed that if I elevated them a little bit off my nose, I can see much better out of them. So, I grabbed some cotton and stuffed them under the frames one night so that I could see well enough to finish a homework assignment. (I snapped the above photo to document this event.) I got some adhesive nose pads the next day. Turns out, my eyes need to look into a particular part of each lens in order to properly see the world.

I like bifocals. They give me variety. If I look into one lens type, I can see far away. If I look into another lens type, I can see up close. (Trifocals someday will be triple awesome!)

While I was researching the pros and cons of bifocals, I learned that some folks are vehemently against bifocals. One site claimed that bifocals are the cause of elderly people falling, because the lenses cause perspective issues. (Um, I thought the elderly tend to suffer falls because of their vulnerable frame.) A previous nurse practitioner of mine said that she had trouble seeing with bifocals while she was walking down flights of stairs. (OK, so it’s a little blurry, but I can see stairs and my feet moving on them; mission accomplished.) One website said that the best way to see is to actually carry around two types of glasses. (Uh, have you ever tried living a normal life while your reading glasses clunk around in your purse?) Wow. Not sure why bifocals have so many haters. (Sorry, Benjamin Franklin.)

But none of these haters has my perspective. Why? Because none of them is me. In order to understand why my bifocals work for me, they’ll need to look through them with my eyes. In order to understand why someone is or acts a certain way, I’ll need to at least try to imagine what it’s like seeing the world through his or her eyes.

Adjusting your perspective can be a very healthy thing. Or sometimes you just need to adjust your expectations. (I’ve been told this before, but now I’ve experienced how true it is.) If you expect brilliance from someone who has proven himself or herself to be incompetent, you will be frustrated. If you expect compassion and understanding from someone who has never been in your situation, you will be hurt.

You’d think that working for a prayer ministry would make you feel appreciated because you’re helping people, right? Not necessarily.

 

Turns out, praying for people over the phone in a call center isn’t like praying for people at the altar at church. At the altar, people don’t walk up to you and complain about the church. (At least, I hope they don’t.) At the altar, people don’t take twenty minutes to tell you their prayer request, interrupt you while you’re trying to pray, or try to keep you at the altar after you finish praying so that they can shoot the breeze with you. (Do they?) At the altar, the prayer captain doesn’t tap you on the shoulder during your prayer to warn you that you’re taking too much time with someone who needs prayer. (I mean, really.)

 

In all of my various experiences in working at call centers, I’ve learned that people or customers don’t always treat the phone representative like a real person. They tend to be extra rude to that person because he or she is just a voice on the phone. But if you’ll try to imagine phone reps as actual human beings who took call-center jobs because they need the paychecks, maybe you’ll see through their eyes that the experience on the phone is just as unpleasant for them as it is for you.

 

I’ve heard it said—and I agree—that sometimes experiencing something unpleasant is meant to just be filed away in your brain as an example of how to not treat people.

 

 

3. Sometimes I just need to shut up. As I’ve mentioned before, I’ve been dealing with bitterness. That has gotten better, but the journey hasn’t been pretty. Sometimes thoughts will fly through my head, and I’ll find myself telling people off in my head—and it’s very ugly. I’ll shock myself with what I say in my head, and I’ll hear myself say out loud, “I just need to shut up.” Some things are just better left unsaid...

 

... especially during PMS. Here’s a little list that I wrote for myself one day while I was in the meltdown phase of PMS. Self-control is a fruit of the Spirit. And there’s a reason for that.

 

 

4. One tough season can prepare you for another tough season. While I was earning my second bachelor’s degree, I worked multiple jobs while I was going to school full-time and participating on multiple worship teams. Even though I was having the time of my life, it was ridiculously exhausting, but God helped me through it, and it helped to remember that school was only temporary.

 

Now I’ve worked multiple jobs while I’ve been going to graduate school part-time online, but I had to take a break from singing on worship teams so that I could work evenings. At my night job in the call center, worship music would constantly play in the background. Sometimes between phone calls, I would hear a song playing that I had sung on the platform with a previous team, or that I learned how to play on the piano while I was in school, and I would miss being on worship teams... and I would try to not cry. (My non-crying attempts weren’t always successful.)

 

God helped me through it, and it helped to remember that my time away from the worship platform was only temporary.

 

During all of that, I needed to hone my time-management and administrative skills, and I needed to dig deep and find some extra stamina. I wonder if there’ll be something in my future that will require all of that, too.

 

 

5. There’s a reason why youth can be despised. In 1 Timothy 4:12 (NKJV), Paul exhorted Timothy, who led the church in Ephesus: “Let no one despise your youth, but be an example to the believers in word, in conduct, in love, in spirit, in faith, in purity.” (The NLT version of that verse says, “Don’t let anyone think less of you because you are young.”) During these past four months, when every single one of my supervisors at all of my jobs were not only younger than I am, but also in a completely different generation that I am, I thought about this verse.

 

I was reminded of what it was like to be that young. During my early 20s, I was told that because I was young, I was very idealistic. That statement hurt me at the time, but in a way it was correct. When you’re young, you tend to do everything by the book. If you do, and if you’re in charge, people will despise you and your immaturity. When you get older, you’ll realize that you simply can’t do everything by the book—when life itself happens to you, it couldn’t care less about any book. It just happens, and you adjust. Situations come along, and you need to adapt or else you won’t make it. 

 

But younger people haven’t necessarily learned this yet. During these past four months, I got treated in ways that made me wonder: Am I reaping all of those immature things that I sowed when I was a young leader in my early 20s? If so, everybody who I knew back then, please accept my sincere apologies.

 

Not everything goes by the book or will follow a rule. People and their situations are organic. They need to breathe. They need your common sense. They need for you to love them.

 

 

6. God really does see you. Just let that sink in a little. He’s nearer than you may think He is.

 

 

7. Waiting can be extremely hard, but if waiting is the right thing to do, it’ll be worth it. I’m saying this in faith. I keep feeling like God says to stay here and wait, so I’ve been waiting. If I’m not ready for what God has for me yet, then I’ll let Him keep molding me until I’m ready... and I’d like to enjoy life while I’m waiting.

 

 

(P.S. OH MY GOSH PAUL WAS NOT A GNOSTIC)

Continued Adventures in Poverty

Here on my blog, I’ve shared the spiritual things that I’ve learned while I was on my annual fasts (salad fasts, soup fasts, etc.). That kind of stopped after 2019 (it’s hard to find time to blog when you’re working and in school), but during those times of eating only certain foods and using what I had available to me, I’ve learned how to improvise in practical ways that continue to help me now.

Except for a few years while I was in my mid-to-late 30s and early 40s, I’ve been broke—so, I've basically been poor for most of my life. During that time, I’ve had to make do with whatever I had. When I was broke in Waco while I was in my 20s, I usually only had around $10 to buy two weeks’ worth of groceries. It was awful, but in times like that, you just grab a couple of cans of tuna and a dozen eggs and use them to make all of your lunches and dinners until your next paycheck.

Although I thankfully have more than $10 now for groceries, I still have to be extremely frugal­—especially now that food costs have skyrocketed. I’ve learned that homemade soups are still a very economic way to eat during the week (even after a fast ends), I’ve almost perfected my personal style of cooking chili (no matter how hot the weather is), and I’ve learned to grin and bear it when all there is to eat for lunch is a peanut butter and banana sandwich (I’ll eat two sandwiches if needed). There was one week when I didn’t have enough money to buy ingredients to make chili, so I decided to buy a bag of rice instead (so I could eat rice and beans that week). There was another week recently when there would have been exactly $0 in my bank account after everything cleared, so I wrote myself a not-so-subtle reminder on my wallet to not touch my debit card until I got paid.

I have two bachelor degrees now. I didn’t think that I would still be living like a starving artist at this point in my life. I think I’m getting too old for this. This post-graduation season reminds me of what my life was like right after I graduated from Baylor. I didn’t have a car, so I walked to and from two part-time jobs. If I remember correctly, after I would walk to a part-time morning job in downtown Waco, I would walk to my steadier part-time job at the TV station that was on the Baylor campus. (A coworker started giving me rides to the downtown Waco job after a while, and I quit that job shortly before the TV station hired me full time.) That was a crazy time in which I got mistaken for a homeless person, I was learning how to write worship songs on my guitar, and I was still extremely involved in church. And since I was very young and idealistic, I was having fun and was thankful for everything. (But life got even more fun after I got a car.)

Now that I just finished another college degree, I’m finding myself in a similar situation. Two of those three part-time jobs that I worked while I was in school have changed (I felt led to quit one of them, and the other one is my editing business which suddenly dried up after the Spring semester), but my rent has gone up a total of about $400 since January, and I don’t have to tell you how expensive gas has gotten. So, I decided to get another part-time job. And—just like I did right after I graduated from Baylor—now I have two part-time jobs. After I work a five-hour shift at my school job, I drive to my second job to work another five-hour shift. (I’m planning to quit the second job when things get going again during the Fall semester or whenever I find full-time work, whichever comes first.) This new setup is exhausting so far, but at least I get to drive through the part of town where you get to pick your own speed limit.

 

I wish I could say that I’m having fun and am thankful for everything—like I was when I was a 21-year-old Baylor grad—but now I’m a crotchety 46-year-old lady who’s having a hard time not being bitter. There was one evening in which I sat down and yelled quite angrily at God about my financial situation because frankly, I’m REALLY tired of being poor, especially after working my tail clean off. But it was good that He gave me a chance to puke out my feelings to Him (as He’s always awesome about doing) before they festered into something worse. And I know deep down inside that He’s going to put me in a better job someday—a job that I’ve spent years training to do.

And, of course, it’s not all about the job. There’s a lot of character that I’m sure God wants to continue to develop in me. There’s still a lot of maturity that I think still needs to happen before I can be fully ready for everything that God has for me. I’ll be a seminary student beginning in August, so there’s still some educational, spiritual, and practical/character training to go. And my second part-time job (I work at a call center at a TV ministry) has been basically giving me some extra ministry training.

So, even though I’ve officially finished going back to school so that I can train to be a worship pastor—which, if you’ve followed this blog over the years, you know has been a longtime dream come true—it seems that I’m still undergoing some training of sorts. I don’t want to despise this season of small beginnings (Zechariah 4:10), even though I feel like I’m living through yet another such season all over again, but I want to learn everything I can while I’m here. And I want to be ready to walk through any door that God wants to open for me.

Yes, I’m probably getting too old for this, but I’m doing this thing, anyway. Y’all know I’m a survivor.

Remembering the party

When I was talking to a friend of mine the other day, I remarked that 2020 and 2021 were like a package deal. I had never thought about it that way, but I think it’s true! 2020 and 2021 were like a package that we didn’t order and that we weren’t expecting, but suddenly it landed on our doorstep, and we had to deal with it.

You know how sometimes we’ll pray near the beginning of a year and ask God to give us a word for the year so that we’ll know what to expect? Or so that we’ll have something to hold on to throughout the year? If you read my post from December 2020, you may remember that my word for 2021 was “party.” I was expecting that to mean that I would have a lot of fun in 2021, and I was expecting simultaneously to die to myself (in the Matthew 16:24 sense of the word).

I did see and experience all of that, now that I think about it. When everything started opening back up again—church and school especially—it did feel like a big party, because we all got to finally see each other again. I got to hang out with people from choir this year, I met a bunch of new people at a different church this year, I got a lot of new editing jobs this year, I got to spend time with friends when they gave me rides this year, and I got to participate in my church’s Christmas musical this year. One big party! Lots of fun!

But there was also a lot that happened in 2021 that I (or we) did NOT expect. The word “party,” which basically means a collection of people, also began to mean to me (I’m not sure that this is in any dictionary) a collection of issues or problems.

At the beginning of 2021 (I think on January 1st?), the electricity went out in my apartment, and I think it foreshadowed the electricity-less horror movie that most of us Texans would experience that February. I believe many of us called it “Snovid” because it was that bad. We couldn’t go to work, we couldn’t go to school, I didn’t want to shower in freezing-cold water, I had to read a textbook by candlelight, and it was 45 degrees in my apartment when I was finally whisked away to a house that had electricity and warm water (that’s how I got to hang out with people from choir). Also, the congregation where I used to sing on some Saturdays suddenly fired/let go of its worship team due to a decrease in finances due to COVID—which later prompted me to apply for a part-time gig at another church where I now sing and play on Sundays (that’s how I met a bunch of new people at a different church.) I thought that my new pet-sitting gig would take off, but it didn’t, but thankfully God provided a way for me to earn money, anyway (that’s how I got a lot of new editing jobs). My car was in the shop from August 11th until November 29th, and I needed to get rides everywhere (that’s how I got to spend time with friends while we were en route to school, work, other places, and back home again).

We all had such high hopes for 2021! But those hopes were dashed to pieces bit by bit as the “party” of issues and problems came at us.

But I think I learned a lot. I did have to die to myself, in a sense, when I had to ask people for rides everywhere. (In fact, when I look back on 2021, this is probably the part that I’ll remember most vividly.) I missed my car, but I missed my independence more than anything else. I suddenly went from being an independent middle-aged woman to a chick who kept asking for rides like some little kid. It was a humbling experience, but I think I learned how to be more resourceful than ever. If someone couldn’t give me a ride, I had to move on to the next person on my mental list. If no one was available, I had to be prepared to hire a Lyft. I also learned that not everyone is as generous or as nice as you think they are. OK, if you can’t give me a ride, fine, but don’t treat me like a problem that needs to be solved. I’m a human being. If you prick me, I bleed.

I found myself needing to work through rejection issues again. I heard people saying “no” an awful lot in 2021—in ways that I didn’t expect to hear. I cried a lot on God’s shoulder, and He showed me that a delayed answer isn’t always a “no.” It might just be a delayed “yes.” There’s no reason to freak out in the meantime.

So, my world getting shaken up in those ways kind of forced me to die to myself. Good things happen when you submit to that process.

Take my car situation, for example. When I (finally) got to pick it up from the shop, and I was waiting for it to be delivered, another customer came into the shop and explained that his wife’s car had been there for two months. (Hmm. That situation seemed oddly familiar.) He wasn’t yelling, but he was calmly wondering what the heck was the holdup, and I couldn’t help but overhear. The shop’s new manager explained that the shop’s staff had been experiencing significant health issues. There had been a recent COVID outbreak. The owner of the shop (who wasn’t there that day) also had been struggling with serious health issues and was about to lose his feet (I presume he’s diabetic). All of this had put the shop ridiculously behind.

For months, while I was waiting for my car to be fixed, people had been telling me that I should pitch a fit at the shop because of the unusually long repair, get my car out of there, and take it somewhere else to get repaired, because I was getting taken advantage of as a single woman.

But God was telling me to wait.

Hmm. I’m glad I listened to Him. Apparently, there was a whole situation happening behind the scenes that no one else knew about.

 

So, the package deal of 2020-2021 was a huge nightmare-collection of stuff that we had to live through. But we made it!

ABBA, one of my favorite groups, released a new album in November (with singles releasing earlier in the year). One of the songs is a remastered version of an older song, but the rest of them are all-new songs! After their 1981 breakup, and despite their ingenious marketing techniques, this new album was a complete surprise to me. Forty years later, their music still sounds the same, and I fell in love with it all over again. I’ve shared a photo of me dancing to my favorite new song from the album.

Someone on YouTube commented that ABBA came back at a time when we needed them the most. I think in a way, that’s true. For me, their music is a fun break from the horrible experiences that we’ve all had these past two years. The fact that we made it through is cause for celebration, right? So, why not dance? I mean, it’s a party.


What about 2022?

Keeping in mind that things don’t always turn out like we think they will, I think my word for 2022 is “settling.” Since I’ve spent the past few years earning a worship music degree, I hope that I’ll be settling into a new job after I graduate. Since I’ll have to move out of my apartment in May (oh, yeah, I forgot to mention that my apartment complex made quite a few of my neighbors move out of their apartments in 2021 for renovations), I’m sure that I’ll be settling into a new home. I hope that my leftover emotions from 2021 will settle as well.

I also feel like we’ll get to see a lot of miracles in 2022. I’m looking forward to that!

You know how 2020 and 2021 unfolded a little bit at a time, in a bad way? I think God has been showing me that (at least for me) 2022 will unfold a little bit at a time, in a good way. I’m looking forward to that, too!    

He’s my ride

Remember when I used to blog at least once or twice a month? I guess times have changed!

When I was in high school, my dad was a teacher at my school. Since I didn’t have a car (or have a license yet), I would ride with him to and from school every day. I would get there early because he needed to be there early, and then I would meet him in his classroom at the end of the day and wait for him—usually while a student or two were serving detention there. I didn’t mind waiting, because I could always spend the time doing homework. Whoever was serving detention would sometimes turn to me and ask something like, “What did you do?” since it probably looked like I had detention, too. I would just motion towards my dad and say, “He’s my ride.”

I think spiritually speaking, I’ve been experiencing something similar lately.

“God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, even though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea...” (Psalm 46:1-2, NKJV)

Several months ago, I felt led to read through Psalm 46 again, and the part at the beginning of the psalm where the world basically falls apart (verses 2 and 3) caught my attention. I was like… Uh-oh. What’s going to happen?

  

If you follow me on Facebook, you know that my car has been in the shop for a long time. I was told that it just needed a new transmission (so I bought a used one because they’re cheaper), and the mechanic made it sound like the repair wouldn’t take much time at all. Then I was told that my car also needed a new transmission computer, so that got replaced. Now I’m told that the Check Engine light came on again, so they believe that it’s a wiring issue. They said that this issue would take some time to fix (not that they haven’t already spent a lot of time fixing the other issues). I guess making all of those food deliveries broke my car or something. So, I’ve been waiting for my car to get fixed. When I left it at the shop, I took my apartment’s parking permit (pictured above) and put it in my purse so that it wouldn’t get lost. Good thing I did! My car has been in the shop since August 11, and I’m reeeeeally looking forward to using my parking permit again someday. I walked around my empty carport the other day and pined a little for my car.

At first, I planned it so that I could work from home while my car was in the shop, and then I could just get a Lyft back to the shop to pick it up when it was ready, no sweat. Then school started, so I couldn’t stay at home anymore, and I couldn’t afford to pay for so many Lyfts anymore, so I started asking people for rides. For the past couple of months, I’ve gotten rides to school/work, church buildings, the grocery store, the bank, and back home again from about a dozen generous, awesome people. Since I live alone, I don’t have any family members to serve as live-in taxi drivers, so I’ve had to be very proactive in arranging my transportation (I guess I’ve been honing my administration skills).

Sometimes I have to be ready to roll much earlier than I normally would, because that is when my ride is available to drive me. Sometimes I have to wait for my ride to finish taking care of things or socializing with people, when I otherwise would have already gone home, because I need to wait on my ride. I’m basically at my ride’s mercy.

And I’ve been in survival mode. If I run out of food and can’t get a ride to the store yet, I’ll walk to a convenience store. If I don’t feel like walking, I’ll order groceries online or order a pizza. All of that is expensive, of course, so whenever I’m at a gathering where food is involved, I’ll eat whatever is there, regardless of the sodium or cholesterol content (which I’m supposed to be watching), and I’ll eat as much as I can. Sometimes my pantry is plenty full, but other times it’s empty, so I’ve just had to adjust accordingly. Interestingly, my blood pressure hasn’t skyrocketed, and I haven’t died of a heart attack or stroke. Maybe it’s because I’ve been getting healthier, or maybe it’s because I’m happy?

It might be a little of both.

At any rate, I’m a college student, right? How many college students do you know who are rolling in money, full pantries, and luxury cars? (OK, you might know a few, but my point is that that isn’t usually the norm.) A few years ago when I went back to school, God showed me that He restored my college years to me, and it looks like I got the full package deal!

But waiting for my car to get fixed has been a gut-wrenching experience. I’ve prayed and wrestled through it quite a bit. Am I doing the right thing by waiting? Am I getting taken advantage of? Should I go all Karen on the shop, tell them off, get my car out of there, and take it to a different shop? Or should I go ahead and let the shop finish what they started, since they’ve already invested themselves into it, and especially since their online reviews suggest that they tend to take their time with repairs?

It’s interesting how cars can be used for different metaphors. I heard a worship pastor say once that using music to lead people into worship is like taking them into God’s presence in a vehicle—hopefully a really nice, bump-free vehicle like a Cadillac. With musical excellence in mind, I would say that rehearsing and preparing the music beforehand is like maintaining the vehicle—getting the oil changed so that the engine will run smoothly, rotating the tires so that they’ll wear evenly, flushing out your fluids when they’ve gotten all dirty and icky, etc. Sometimes, even after you’ve done all of that work beforehand, the Check Engine light will come on during the worship service, and you’ll have to diagnose the problem on the fly. Is it the transmission? Is it the battery? Are you just overdue for a tune-up? Is it a wiring issue that’ll take a long time to fix? Should you just abandon your vehicle and start walking to the nearest payphone to call somebody for a ride (which is basically what Boomers and we Gen-Xers used to do before Uber, Lyft, and smartphones existed)?

Sometimes those things do happen, metaphorically speaking. Yes, practice your music. Yes, come to the worship platform as prepared as you can so that everything can run as smoothly as possible. Yes, do all you can to fix any sudden issues that you didn’t plan for. Or maybe if you have to abandon your plans and just go acoustic with something spontaneous, just go with the flow. God will meet with His people anyway, especially if they’re there waiting for Him.

One thing is certain: I’ve been learning a LOT during this ordeal—stuff that you can’t learn in a classroom. I’ve been learning how to be patient when people around me are being impatient. I’ve been learning that sometimes it’s best to take whatever is offered. I’ve been learning that some people are willing to give you the shirt off their backs even though they barely know you. I’ve been learning that pepperoni might not kill me after all. I’ve been learning that my cat is waaaaay more flexible in her routine than my other cats were. And I’ve been learning to hang on God’s every word, especially when I’m waiting on Him for something. 

I’ve heard people say, “Jesus, take the wheel,” but what if you don’t even have a car? Jesus will just need to be your ride, period. Sometimes we need to wait for what feels like forever for the next season to come along. Sometimes we need to wait for our dream to come true. Sometimes we need to be willing to let the dream go if it never actually comes to pass. Sometimes we need to just wait.

So, if you’re wondering how I’ve been handling everything, or why I’m even here in the first place, I’m just waiting on my Father. He’s my ride.

Reflecting on the epic-ness

I haven’t written here in a while, so this is going to be a long post!

For starters, I seem to have broken my record for the least number of blog posts in a year. This is only my third post in 2020. My record for the most posts was 90 in 2013, until I broke that record in 2014 with 96 posts. Since blogging is therapeutic for me, I’ve noticed that if I blog a lot, that means that I’m having a rough time emotionally. I think the good news is that my emotions have been manageable this year. Plus I just finished the busiest (and awesome-est) semester of my life.

And I know that 2020 was rough on everybody, in one way or another.

I used to work with an editor who thought that people misused the word “epic.” She insisted that an “epic” is actually a genre of poetry. Yes, it certainly is, especially if you’re talking about The Iliad, The Odyssey, The Aeneid, or Beowulf. But I don’t think she realized that another dictionary definition of the word “epic” is an adjective that describes something that is “extending beyond the usual or ordinary especially in size or scope” (per Merriam-Webster’s 11th Collegiate Dictionary). In that sense of the word, 2020 was epic indeed.

I’m sure the pandemic comes to mind. It wasn’t just an epidemic that affected a large population; it was a strange, deadly plague that affected literally everyone on the planet in some way. I’m sure George Floyd’s death comes to mind. It wasn’t just police brutality; it was a heinous crime that almost literally everyone on earth was able to witness and become outraged about to the point of protesting and even rioting. I’m sure the election comes to mind. It wasn’t just another Democrat versus Republican battle at the polling booths; it was communism and reactionary revolution clashing amidst possible voter fraud.

I might not get another chance to say this: I’m really going to miss having President Trump in the White House. Yes, I voted for him. I think he rubs people the wrong way because he isn’t really a politician. He’s a CEO, which means that he doesn’t quit until his organization wins. He doesn’t seem to care about details, and he doesn’t really have a filter. I thought this was refreshing, because I just don’t like politicians. I hate it when I vote for somebody because I think they’re going to make a difference, but they end up compromising or going back on their promises. I can’t stand to watch them make speeches where they hide behind overly diplomatic language that doesn’t make any sense, or when they cave in to people’s demands just so that they won’t be hated. So, I’m going to miss Trump because I don’t think he was like that.

But I’m not really here to talk about politics. I’m here to talk about me and my 2020.


Epic schooling and opportunities

I had a feeling that I was going to learn some awesome things at school this year, and I most certainly did! This past semester especially, I noticed that the concepts I was learning in class would come to life while I was at church.

Also this past semester, I was introduced to what the concept of theology really is. If you’ve read my blog in the past, you’ve probably seen my “I’m not a theologian” disclaimer, but I’ve since learned that I actually am. Pretty much all of us are theologians. If the definition of theology is the study of God and wrestling with His truths, then I’ve been theologizing for years. It’s nice to put a name to what I’ve been doing! In fact, if I ever get a master’s degree, I would like for it to be in theology.

But for now, I most gladly continue to study worship leadership. I used to lead small-group worship all the time with my guitar, but learning the guitar as an academic discipline wasn’t what I thought it would be. Unfortunately, I wasn’t picking up the advanced fingerings or chord patterns, and I couldn’t quite learn where all of the notes are on the fretboard. It affected my grade a few times. One professor even scoffed at me during a jury. OK, fine. I can take a hint. So, I switched to piano, an instrument that I’ve played off and on since I was five years old. (I had been missing the piano, anyway.)

 

As I’ve really gotten into the piano again in 2020, I’ve realized that I just can’t get enough of this instrument. I’m not a virtuoso by any means, and I think I’ll always be a singer first, but I feel very much at home on the piano. Oh, beloved instrument, I daresay we shall never part ways again!

As I mentioned in a previous post, in the parable of the talents, the master told the one-talent servant that he needed to have at least put his talent in the bank so that it could collect interest. I like to think of the piano as being a talent that has been collecting interest over the years, and in 2020 I made a really cool withdrawal. I’ve noticed that I’ve been able to play a lot of songs by ear now, and I can sometimes play with my eyes closed because my fingers have familiarized themselves with the keyboard again. I wasn’t able to do that before. To me, THAT IS EPIC!!! 

 

And, of course, MeepMeep can’t get enough of my piano keyboard, either. Especially when I sing and play simultaneously. (See her photo-bombing a video that I uploaded for school?)

Back in 1997, during my last semester at Baylor, I signed up to take a Keyboard Skills class because I wanted to learn how to do cool stuff on the piano. As soon as the first class started, the professor basically said, “I only have 10 keyboards, but there are 12 students in this class. This class is required for music majors, so for the two of you who aren’t music majors, I’m sorry, but see you next semester!” So, I left the classroom along with another girl, I got a “WP” on my transcript, and I graduated without getting to take that class. Fast-forward to about 23 years later: I’ve been learning how to do the cool stuff that I wanted to learn back then. Epic! 

 

I experienced some worship-leading epic-ness, too! This year, I was given some awesome opportunities that I’ve been waiting for for years. I was also able to learn firsthand from worship pastors at my church in a way that I hadn’t learned from pastors before. Even during a pandemic, I’ve been having the time of my life!

I don’t like it when people diss 2020 and just write off the year as being completely bad, especially since I experienced such awesome things that I wasn’t able to experience before.


Epic horribleness

And yet, I had one or two “I hate 2020” moments of my own. The day after I wrote my last blog post, I rear-ended someone during a food delivery. I got estimates from a couple of places that said that either 1) my car repairs would cost $5,000 or 2) my car was totaled. I was preparing to sell my beloved vehicle for parts until a friend recommended a place that would fix my car for much cheaper. So, my car was fixed and is now driveable! (I need to get some transmission work done now, but that is another story that will be resolved next year.)

While I was driving to work a few months later, I rear-ended someone AGAIN! (Thankfully there wasn’t any major damage, and my insurance didn’t make a big deal about it.) I hadn’t gotten into any real car wrecks since 2002, and then I end up rear-ending people TWICE in 2020?! UGH!!!

Speaking of my car, the food-delivery gig started to go sour for me this year. It was very lucrative at the beginning of the pandemic when the restaurants closed, but then sometime during the summer, people stopped ordering as often, and they stopped tipping as much. On Sundays (especially because of brunch), I used to be able to make $100-150 a day, but that has now dwindled to maybe $50-60 or so a day. $14 tips have become $2 tips or no tips. So, I won’t be continuing this side gig after 2020. (I’ll write more about that further down.)

So, that was my horribleness this year. I don’t have to tell you about the pandemic, the shelter-in-place, the masks, the quarantines, the people getting sick and/or dying, the hoarding, or the job furloughs, because I think you already know about all of that.


Epic provision

God continued to provide financially for me this year, just like He always will, but this year the provision was especially impressive. During the first part of the pandemic, after the government issued stimulus checks and when people were ordering takeout like crazy, I was finally doing OK financially. Then after I nearly totaled my car, my Facebook friends all pitched in and donated enough money for me to get it fixed.

Then I started cat-sitting for a friend who paid me handsomely because she was away for a very long time. With that income, I was able to pay rent and also finish paying my school bill for the Fall semester. In the process, I decided to continue to offer my cat-sitting services long term—so as to replace the income generated from delivering food. I’m still working that out, but that will be a new 2021 thing!

I think I’ll look back on this year as one in which God didn’t just provide—He provided big-time!


Epic suspense

God had said that, for me personally, 2020 would be an “epic” year in which I would be “on the edge of [my] seat.” Yep! I think we’ve all been sitting on the edge of our seat this year. Will I lose my job? Will I be able to pay my rent? Will I ever get paid for those services rendered? Will the IRS finally issue my refund? Will the government give us another stimulus check? Will we ever find out who won the election?

Will the pandemic end anytime soon? Will my COVID test results be negative? Will my family member ever make it out of the hospital?

Yep, 2020 was a nail-biter.


Epic reset button 

Like everyone else, I gained about 20 pounds or so from all of the quarantines. And like everyone else, I (re)discovered the walking trails by my home. As I was nearing the end of a sidewalk that borders a local park, I decided to take the trail by the picnic pavilion back to my place. At first, I was surprised to see that the trail wasn’t actually there… until I looked more closely and noticed that other things had actually grown over the trail. I think more people just need to start walking on it again so that the trail will be more recognizable.

I think 2020, despite its horribly vivid thriller-movie-esque qualities, has served an interesting purpose. One word that we were given at church to describe 2020 (back on New Year’s Eve when everyone was excited about the upcoming year) was “reset.” 2020 was going to be a year when we would get to regroup, get refreshed, and basically just rest. We didn’t know that it would be because we’d be forced to stay at home, or because some of us would end up getting sick.

In a lot of ways, that giant reset button has been pushed. Most of us who were stuck at home ended up reconnecting with our families and spending time with them in ways that perhaps we would not have otherwise. Many of us have had to learn basic sanitary skills such as hand-washing (which I already knew from my hypochondriac upbringing, but it was fun to learn how to sing “Happy birthday” to myself in Spanish). Some of us lost our jobs, but hopefully we found better ones.

Many of us Christians have been forced out of our political comfort zones and onto our knees where we should have been all along. People who hadn’t been regularly attending church began doing so online when the buildings were closed. In the process, we church people realized how valuable the internet is for making resources available for people who need them.

People found new ways to connect, new ways to rest, new ways to earn a living, new ways to stay healthy, and new ways to be creative during these wretchedly difficult circumstances. Some of us discovered that a few of our friends on social media value politics more than they value their relationship with us, which is always tragic... even though the parting of ways might actually be good riddance. And some of us were able to knock out a ton of college credits in the midst of extremely crazy schedules because the restrictions and the internet made it all possible.

This year, in one way or another, we uncovered trails that had long been forgotten or neglected. We remembered how valuable those trails are for getting us to where we need to be. We can continue to blaze those trails anew and see where God ultimately takes us.

 

And I’m sure He’ll bring us some new friends along the way.


What’s next?

For me personally, the word that I keep getting for 2021 is “party.” I know this means that I’m going to have a lot of fun next year. Now that I’ve found my trail, I just need to stay on it and hit my stride. And I’m excited!

But I also know that not everyone and not everything is invited to my party. Food delivery isn’t invited to the party, hence that adjustment in my life. I’m not invited to the party, which I think means that I’m going to die to myself in a variety of ways in 2021. That process is never fun, but hopefully I’ll be less of a jerk and more like Jesus when it’s over.

Although the pandemic is still happening at the moment, I know that 2021 is going to be a different year that has different things in store for all of us. Bring it!

Thank you for reading this epic-ly long post.

Ojo

People don’t read my blog anymore as much as they used to, so I’m not sure how much of a difference this post is going to make. But, as you well know, our nation is currently facing a crisis of race. This has gotten me thinking through my own issues. I don’t wish to dishonor anyone, but I also don’t wish for anyone to interpret my silence as my condoning evil behavior. Because I don’t condone it. So, I’m going to speak. I will offer my perspective as cautiously yet as passionately as I can.

So, yet another act of police brutality has occurred as the result of racial profiling. I saw the video footage. I saw the anger in the officers’ eyes. I heard the cries of a dying man who was pinned between the pavement and a merciless knee as if he were an inanimate object instead of a human being.

Has it come to this yet again? Protests, riots, and lootings because yet another thug in a police uniform has abused the authority that he or she has been entrusted with? Another innocent life has been taken because some jerk couldn’t look past the color of a person’s skin?

I’m sorry—what year is it? Is it 1820, when many of us believe that human beings can be purchased and owned as slaves? Is it 1920, when many of us believe that human beings can be segregated and separated like animals on a farm? I’m sorry—I thought it was 2020, when many of us have gone through diversity training, years of schooling, and decades of growing up around people who were different than us. I thought we were past all of this racist crap.

But apparently not. Apparently, it’s still here like a volcano that we think is dormant until it suddenly erupts.

As many of you know, I’m half Anglo, half Mexican, 100% white. I don’t understand the specific struggles that black people have experienced all of their lives. But since I grew up in a bi-ethnic home, I understand my own struggles, and I hope I can empathize at least a little bit.

“Mexican” is often still used as a derogatory term, but in this post I have chosen to use it as a descriptive term. That means that half of my family is originally from Mexico—you know, that country that is responsible for creating most of your favorite foods. “Hispanic” or “Latino” are politically correct terms, but they aren’t descriptive enough in my opinion. (I used to have a half-Nicaraguan coworker who demanded that I be more specific. Fine. I guess you can’t please everybody.)

People of Mexican descent have encountered their share of racism in the United States over the years, and I daresay we still do. My Mexican uncle said once that when he was a boy in the 1950s, his schoolteacher made him and his classmates wash their hands unnecessarily because they still looked dirty (brown). My Mexican mom and aunt have mentioned that they weren’t allowed to speak Spanish in school because their (paranoid) non-bilingual teachers couldn’t understand what they were saying. White people in my family have either told me about their concern that my skin is browner than theirs or that a neighborhood becomes bad when black people and Mexicans move in.

Yes, I’ve encountered and experienced racism even in my own family—the people who I’m supposed to feel safe around.

While I was growing up, I also learned that it’s not just white people who discriminate against black people. Mexicans can be just as prejudiced against black people as white people can, if not worse. (And, if you see the infamous video footage, you’ll notice that one of the four police officers was Asian.)

Racism aside, I still haven’t figured out why skin color is such a big deal in Hispanic cultures. “La Negra” (which means “the black lady” in Spanish) is my favorite Mariachi song—not because of the lyrics but because of the extremely catchy and danceable traditional melody. And anytime you see the word “morena” or “moreno,” that’s Spanish for “brown” or “dark skin,” which is often included in song lyrics as an expression of beauty.

But if all you see when you look at a person is his or her skin color... you truly lack depth as a human being.

“Give the king Your judgments, O God, and Your righteousness to the king’s Son. He will judge Your people with righteousness, and Your poor with justice.” (Psalm 72:1-2)

So, as I’ve been processing the tragedy of George Floyd and the current situation that our country has been facing yet again, I’ve been angry. You’re supposed to get angry at injustice. You’re supposed to get angry when an abuser treats a human being like a piece of furniture.

But my thinking hasn’t stopped there. Yes, people still discriminate nowadays because of race. But what about gender discrimination? What about age discrimination? How many opportunities have I been passed up for because I’m not white enough? or not Mexican enough? or not cute and feminine enough? or too old?

Discrimination is horrible. God doesn’t see people that way. He likes variety, so He makes people all sorts of colors, shapes, and sizes on purpose. And He wants all people to love Him and to love one another.

 

As I’ve mentioned before, since I’ve been around racist attitudes for a large portion of my life, I’ve had to work through my own racist issues. Every time racism bubbles up inside me, I have to get rid of it like a turd that needs to be flushed down the commode. If it will help you do the same, I would like to share with you something that has helped me.

The title of this post is “Ojo,” which is pronounced “oh-ho,” and it is the Spanish word for “eye.” (It can also mean “look” or “watch out.”) I think this Spanish word is a very clever one, because the word “ojo” looks like a pair of eyes with a nose in the middle.

I’ve heard it said that the eyes are the windows to the soul. This is certainly true, because when you look into a person’s eyes, you can’t see that person’s skin color, height, weight, socioeconomic status, or educational status. You can see pain. You can see joy. You can see weariness. You can see contentment. Ultimately, all you see is a person.

I’ve struggled with lust for most of my life. When I’m around people, I’ve noticed something that keeps my thoughts from going to bad places. Looking a person in the eye—instead of down at his pecs or at her cleavage—helps me see the person as a human being. Not as an object.

If you struggle with racism, try looking people in the eye. You won’t see that person’s skin color. You’ll see wisdom. You’ll see anger. You’ll see friendliness. You’ll see confusion. You’ll see a search for acceptance.

You’ll see a person. And that person’s life matters.