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.

Epic-ness and other thoughts

The pandemic: the bad parts

This year has gotten such a bad rap so far. Yes, it’s been difficult—and with COVID-19, it’s felt like we’ve been living in a bad dream—but personally, it hasn’t been my worst year.

2019 was the hardest year of my life. I had financial issues, health issues, car issues, and relationship issues. I had to step off the worship platform for a few months so that I could get a handle on some emotional healing. I saw family for the first time in about 8 years. I started 3 new jobs. I went back to school and learned how to be in college while being hopelessly dependent on the internet. And yet, I’m really glad that I went through all of that because it prepared me for 2020.

The pandemic has been awful. We all know that. And yet, I think that’s what’s made it so doable: Literally everyone in the entire world has been affected by it. I don’t ever have to explain to anyone why 1) I’ve had to stay at home 2) I haven’t been able to lead worship at church and 3) I’ve had to wear a mask. Because everyone already knows. Can you imagine if you were the only one who had to do any or all of that all by yourself? You’d probably feel like a freak. At the very least, we’ve all been in this together.

And yet, I’m kind of done with this pandemic, as I think we all are. Since my food delivery job is considered to be “essential,” I’ve seen all kinds of people and the ways that they’ve been dealing with everything. Some people were cautious from the very beginning. Others haven’t really seemed to care about the whole social distancing thing. Still others wear masks but don’t cover their mouths or noses with it, which makes me think they’re either careless or maybe overworked and just don’t care anymore.

Speaking of, I honestly kinda started to resent it when people would say that we’ve all had so much spare time since we’ve been stuck at home. No, not all of us. I ended up being busier than I’ve been in a long time. Since people couldn’t eat at restaurants for a while, they ordered takeout, so food deliveries spiked. My bank account was happy because I was so busy, but I didn’t really get to breathe between deliveries like I normally do. (Tonight was the first slow-ness that I’ve seen since March.) Since I’ve been working from home for my office job, it’s been challenging for me to set boundaries for myself since I’ve been working in the place where I usually rest. And since all of my classes moved online for the latter half of the semester, the amount of work doubled for most of my courses. In addition to showing up for class (online), I had to complete extra assignments that proved I was doing the work.

As a result, I’ve been dealing with exhaustion and burnout. My natural tendency is to be a workaholic, so it’s been hard to try to not overwork myself and yet have to do extra work. I talked to my therapist about feeling burned out, but it doesn’t seem like there’s any need for alarm in terms of my mental health.

Thankfully, since the semester has been over for a week now, I’ve felt myself gradually slowing down, relaxing in my natural tendency to study everything (even when school isn’t in session), and resting a tiny bit more.

I’ve remembered what God told me about what 2020 would be for me. My word for the year is “epic,” and He said that this year would be “on the edge of your seat.” I’ve also heard Him say, “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” It’s interesting how this year has unfolded so far. COVID-19 has certainly turned out to be a disease of epic proportions. We’ve all been on the edge of our seats as we wait to see how soon life will return to normal. And there have been lots of little things in my life that I’ve wondered about: Should I get a new laptop or a new phone? Should I have adjusted the way I was turning in my assignments for school or my approach to doing homework? Should I update my strategy for food deliveries? Well, none of the above was broke, so I didn’t fix any of it. And I’m good with the results.

And in case this still needs to be said: THIS WAS THE WEIRDEST SEMESTER EVER.

The music

I switched from guitar to piano this semester. This was a big deal for me, and it’s the first time that I’ve studied piano since 1997 when I was at Baylor. I got to shake off some rust and learn a lot of new skills. And I had a blast! In Matthew 25 in the Bible, the master tells his one-talent servant that he should have at least put his talent in the bank so that it would have collected some interest. I think in all of those years that I had largely set aside the piano, that talent had been collecting interest. It was pretty epic to see what I was able to withdraw from that bank. There have been times when I’ve sat at my keyboard and played, and I’ve heard new melodies come out of my fingertips that I don’t remember putting there, and I’ve seen my fingers go to places that I don’t remember training them to go. (I also think all of the emotional healing has helped clear the air and lighten the load.) Shucks, I didn’t know my fingers could do that! So, I’ve just enjoyed the ride.

As an assignment for one of my courses this semester, I broadcast a worship concert on Facebook Live during finals week where I led worship with my little piano keyboard. (I was so nervous! I covered up my many mistakes by singing louder and changing my rhythm/style.) I’m always eager to lead worship, but I attend such a large church and a school that only has a certain number of slots, so there aren’t always very many opportunities to lead. It felt good to be in charge of a worship set again! And I think that was the first time I’ve led worship on piano since I was in my parents’ living room in the summer of ’96 or ’97.

In case anyone was wondering, I haven’t completely given up the guitar. I still play every once in a while. I just need to build my calluses up again if I want to play for long periods of time. (Owie.)

The pandemic: the good parts

My Facebook Live piano concert was an epic opportunity for me, and I wouldn’t have had it if it COVID-19 hadn’t put all of my classes online. During a regular semester, I would have performed only one song for a grade in front of my peers. This semester, I played multiple songs, and even though I was by myself, more than 100 people ended up watching me. That frickin’ rocked.

Other things have rocked, too. In a season of economic uncertainty, God has been providing for me in epic ways: I’ve been able to work from home for my office job, I got some new freelance gigs, and of course I’ve been extremely busy with food delivery. Add to that the economic stimulus from the government, and voilà, I’m financially OK for the first time since 2017. (I hope it stays that way!)

Of course, since I’ve been home so much more, I’ve spent a ton of time around MeepMeep. Unlike my previous cats, she has really gone with the flow with my schedule change. (I think it helped that she used to live inside a vet clinic. You never really know what’s going to happen there.) Thankfully, over these past two months it seemed like she was sick of me only a time or two. The rest of the time, I think she’s been glad to have me around. When I leave to deliver food and come back, she seems ecstatic to see me.

I think one thing that we can all learn from this pandemic is how to persevere. This will all be over eventually, and we need to just stick it out and wait for it to end. We can finish strong!

But we can’t just up and quit.

The seriousness

I heard that May is Mental Health Awareness Month. If you’re not familiar with my story, I attempted suicide nearly 20 years ago. (I still celebrate it as a morbid anniversary every November. Because I’m still alive.) I’ve dealt with depression off and on since about 1998, with 1999 and 2000 being the worst years for it. You think 2020 is bad? For me, it’s been nothing compared to the mental hell that I went through all those years ago.

For me, getting free from depression has been sort of like a ripple effect. The biggest waves were my couple of years of depression that led up to my suicide attempt, and working through that helped the waves to calm down. Then something would happen to disrupt the waters, and the ripples would need some time to subside again. (2013 was another horrible year for me. If you read my blog back then, perhaps you remember my long, prolific angry posts.) In recent years, I’ve been dealing with getting rid of the roots that drove me to depression, so it’s gotten so much better. When I needed to start working from home a couple of months ago, I was concerned that I would wig out again (because that’s what happened in 2013), but thankfully I only had like one depressed day. The rest of the time, I’ve been OK.

This evening as I was beginning my food deliveries, I was playing the Christian industrial music that I used to listen to years ago in my car. I was like, I’m too happy to listen to this, so I switched to The Gipsy Kings’ danceable Latin beats instead.

I think the reason why Mental Health Awareness Month is a thing is because not everyone understands how serious mental health issues can be. If you’ve never experienced clinical depression, you don’t know what it’s like to be depressed. I don’t know what it’s like to be bipolar, because I’ve never been bipolar. I don’t know what panic attacks feel like, because I’ve never had one. But I know what it’s like to get so depressed that I either feel like cutting myself or killing myself, because I’ve been there.

When people either attempt or commit suicide, they often stun the people in their lives who say that they didn’t see it coming. Uh, yeah. If you genuinely want to take your life, you’re not going to want anyone to know about it, because you don’t want anyone or anything to foil your plan, so of course you’re going to try to hide it. Sorry, but that’s the way the deception works. (Yes, there’s an enemy behind the madness.)

Someone’s mental health isn’t something that you can just blow off. People in the Church—as loving and as well-intentioned as they can be—can be especially clueless about mental health, especially depression. Throughout the years, I’ve encountered a variety of attitudes from church people: getting basically ignored when I mentioned suicide, getting the spirit of depression rebuked over me lots of times, getting treated like a child, getting studied like a science experiment, having things taken away because I was struggling... receiving some sound wisdom, being blessed by a listening ear, getting checked on by a concerned friend, and everything in between. I’m very glad to say that I’ve seen improvement from the Church over the years. I think all of the mental health awareness has been working.

This pandemic has been messing with people in all kinds of ways. It wouldn’t hurt to check on people to make sure they’re holding up OK.

Although the Church still has a lot to learn (as we all do), I think church people have been doing a better job of understanding that the battle for mental health isn’t just a spiritual one. It’s a battle that’s fought on several different fronts: spiritual, physical, emotional, mental, social, relational, chemical, psychological, etc. Yes, pray for people, walk with them through their fires, but also make sure that people have access to a good therapist if they need one, and don’t shame them for taking medication if they need it. Comedian Chonda Pierce has said that when people have criticized her for taking medicine for depression, she’s quipped, “Take off your glasses and drive home. Where’s your faith?”

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: You never know what’s behind a person’s smile. You may never fully realize what a person has had to go through to achieve a genuine smile that expresses a joy and a peace that surpasses all understanding. If people don’t understand it, I don’t mind too much. Through my journey, I’ve developed a relationship with my Father that no one will be able to take away from me.

#breakthestigma

As always, thank you for reading!

Reflecting on the phenomena

Back when I used to have time to blog, I think I would post something once a week or at least once a month. Now that I’ve gone back to school—which, if you’ve been following my blog over the years, is a dream come true—I think I only have time to blog once a semester. I also usually blog around New Year’s Day. So, due to my crazy schedule, I thought I’d combine those two things and blog everything here all at once. Thank you in advance for reading.

Academic phenomenon

The word that God gave me for my 2019 was “phenomenon.” If I remember correctly, I took that to mean that 2019 would be a really cool year and that maybe stuff would happen that I wouldn’t quite be able to explain. I remembered all of that near the beginning of the year, but then I kind of forgot about it... probably because I was smack-dab in the midst of it.

First of all, this year I became a full-time Bible college student with three part-time jobs, and I also sing on three worship teams. Yes, you read that correctly. I’ve been extremely busy. And I’ve been having the time of my life. MeepMeep has had to be flexible with my crazy schedule, but she’s been adjusting like a champ. (And she takes advantage of every possible opportunity to get my attention.)

 

This past semester, my schedule was slammed. Most of the time during the day, when I wasn’t in class, I was at work. At night, I had to practice for my voice lesson and my guitar lesson and also do my homework. There wasn’t any way humanly possible to get absolutely everything done perfectly or to read every assigned page every time.

So, God helped me. I prioritized. I worked on whatever was due first (whatever was in front of me). If I had to do a book report/critique for a class, I took the paperback with me to school/work so that I could read it if I had time and also to read it between/during food deliveries. Other than that, I couldn’t find or make time to read any textbooks to prepare for lectures. In one of my classes, I ended up reading only chapter 1 of the textbook and part of chapter 2 but still did OK on the midterm exam. However, I found out that the professor in another class graded us on whether or not we read the textbook (if you read less than 100% of the assigned reading, he would count off points on your exam, if you would answer honestly). So, for that class, I hope this isn’t TMI, I kept the textbook in the restroom and did most of my reading in there. 

Here’s my point: I had to make some adjustments this year. Would you like to see the results? Here are my grades for Spring 2019...

...and here are my grades for Fall 2019.

I got all As for both semesters. I hope you understand that these were NOT easy As. My school is an accredited university with challenging curriculum. Yes, I worked my little tail off to show up for class, learn the material, and complete the assignments. Yes, I already have a bachelor’s degree, so I know how to do the work, I know what professors are looking for, and I know how to write papers. Yes, I only got about 4-5 hours of sleep a night (except for Saturdays, when I would rest completely).

But... what the heck? When I learned what all of my grades were for the Spring, I burst into explosive-triumphant tears. When I learned what all of my grades were for the Fall, I was ecstatic but still kind of stunned. How... in the world... did I get straight As while being in school full time, with three part-time jobs and spots on three worship teams?

I believe that was a phenomenon. It’s something cool that happened, but I can’t really explain it. I just kept showing up, and so did God. If there’s any doubt in my mind as to whether or not I made the right decision to go back to school, I can just look at my GPA.

One cool thing about being in Bible college is the constant reminder that everything I do or experience during this season is really just preparation for ministry. Time management is probably going to be a big deal when I become a pastor someday.

When I was at Baylor, I was a traditional college student with no job—just school, church, and the typical social life of a young adult. And yet I ended up pulling all-nighters and would show up 20 minutes late for class because I hadn’t finished my papers in time. And I usually didn’t make straight As. I have no idea what ate up all the time that I had on my hands.

In contrast, in Bible college with absolutely no spare time whatsoever, I didn’t have to pull any all-nighters, I showered daily, I packed a lunch and hauled it around with me every day, and I stayed awake during the day without a drop of caffeine. Staying awake at night was a challenge (towards the end of the semester, I would either take a power nap or just go to bed early and wake up early the next day to finish homework), but I still learned an important lesson: You’ll learn how to manage your time when you don’t HAVE time.

At the beginning of this past semester, I had class on Thursdays from 8 to 12:15, and then I had a voice lesson at 12:30, and then I had to be at work at 1:30, and then as soon as I got off work, I had a guitar lesson scheduled at 5:00. I remember thinking, Why am I doing this to myself? Then I realized: If I become a pastor someday, my schedule might just be that crazy. I might as well get used to it now.

My work schedule changed slightly, so I had a tiny bit of breathing room in my schedule for the rest of the semester, but still... this entire thing has just been a phenomenon.

Biblical phenomenon

The way I see the Bible has really been stretched this year—in a good way, of course. I wrote in a previous post about how I took a class this summer that showed me how harmful it can be to just quote Bible verses out of context. The class also taught us how important it is to actually read the Bible, rather than just analyzing it and studying it. This past semester, I took a class that balanced out my summer class: I learned how to actually study the Bible, which of course involves looking at Bible passages in their own context and in their historical context, etc. I think it was my favorite class this Fall.

One thing I learned is that there is a difference between something called exegesis (studying and examining the Bible to see what you can get out of it) and eisegesis (reading something into a Bible verse that isn’t really there). Reader, if I have misled you in past blog posts by performing eisegesis on a Bible verse (quoting it so that it would fit into what I was saying), I do apologize. My disclaimer was always that I’m not a theologian or a Bible scholar, but I’ve since learned that I actually am... especially if I’m a songwriter.

We worship leaders are learning nowadays just how influential we are in shaping the theology of contemporary Christians. People sometimes get their theological beliefs from the songs that we write. For example, here’s something that’s been bothering me lately. We toss around the term “The Great I AM” rather frequently, but is that term exactly in the Bible? I haven’t been able to find it. In Exodus chapter 3, God calls Himself “I AM” and “I AM WHO I AM” in the NKJV, but where did “The Great” come from?

Did it come from a songwriter? Did it come from Jared Anderson’s song “Great I Am?” Or did it come from Mark Lowry’s Christmas song “Mary Did You Know?” There’s absolutely nothing wrong with calling God “The Great I AM,” because He is, but I’ve heard it said that we songwriters have way more influence on people theologically than we think we do, and I totally agree now. It’s sobering to think about.

A song really is a powerful piece of artwork. And we singers are the ones who are crazy enough to face the enemy head-on in the thick of battle. No wonder he hates us and attacks us so fiercely.

Speaking of songwriting (yes, I’ve even made time for that this year), one part of the Bible that has been inspiring me and fascinating me this semester is the Book of Ecclesiastes (again). In class, we learned that the wisdom books of the Bible aren’t a collection of promises; they are a collection of observations that are usually true. Thank heavens! For example:

“The rich rules over the poor, and the borrower is servant to the lender.” (Proverbs 22:7, NKJV)

If Proverbs 22:7 were a promise, I think I would be doomed to a lifetime of servitude, because I’ve borrowed quite a bit of money. Yes, the debt that I owe has caused me to work so that I can pay it off, but I don’t live under rich people’s thumbs. Actually, when I deliver their dinner, they’re kind of at my mercy. If I don’t show up to their house, they’ll starve. Maniacal laughter!

Similarly:

“Sorrow is better than laughter, for by a sad countenance the heart is made better.” (Ecclesiastes 7:3, NKJV)

Say what?! Is this verse God’s way of promising me that He’s going to ensure that I have more bad times than good times just because the bad times are BETTER for me than the good times?? Um, no. The context of this verse is a collection of similar sayings. King Solomon, the author, is sharing observations that he’s made about how experiencing the harder things in life are better for a person in the long run than just partying like a fool all the time. (In other words, going through hard times will shape you in a way that just being happy all the time won’t. I believe this is what the commentaries say as well.) Solomon was a king who had like 1,000 women, so he knew what he was talking about.

Are all of these observations inspired by God? Yes, of course. Do they contain any errors? No, I don’t believe they do. It’s the Bible. That means it’s perfect.

Family phenomenon

This year, long story short, God showed me that I needed to connect with my mother before she passes away. This past summer, I saw her for the first time in eight and a half years. I visited her at her hospice bed for a short while. I won’t go into details here, but I will say this: Due to her dementia, I was told that she might not know who I am and that she could barely move (due to muscle atrophy). But she knew who I was, and when I said goodbye, she was able to say goodbye back. As I was walking out of the room and waving goodbye, she followed me with her neck and eyes, smiled, raised her hand and arm out of bed, and waved goodbye.

I was not expecting that precious moment to happen this year.

Health phenomenon

I’ve still been monitoring my blood pressure. Due to transitions in health insurance companies, I haven’t seen a doctor or P.A. since this summer, and one of my prescriptions is out of refills, so I’m only taking two medications now. I mostly didn’t have time to exercise while school was in session, but I’ve still been doing my best to follow my low-sodium diet.

I’ve noticed something interesting. Even when I’m following my diet to the letter, my blood pressure is still high when I’m stressed. On the other hand, there have been times when I thought maybe my BP would be high due to my not being able to avoid salty foods (for example, if I attend an event where food is provided and I don’t get to be picky about what I eat), but my BP actually turns out to not be so high.

I think feeling the pressure of adhering to a low-sodium diet stresses me out and, ironically, could be raising my BP. I also think the pressure of having to take my BP three times a day could raise my BP. Ironic.

I think my BP is better when I’m just happy. So, I’ve been kind of trying to balance all of that and just see what happens.

Construction phenomenon

A popular street where I spend a lot of my time driving was repaved recently. I don’t like driving on streets that are in the process of being repaved. After they’ve ripped off the road and left all the awkward grooves underneath, it can be so uncomfortable to drive on. Before I got new tires this year, driving on that type of road-under-construction was downright scary.

It’s interesting to observe what’s underneath, though. After they rip off the drivable part, you can see the lines where the old lanes used to be. Then after they complete the repaving and draw the new lines on the road, you’re relieved to drive on it again because it’s such a smooth ride. It’s built exactly the way a good road is supposed to be.

As I’ve undergone some emotional healing this year, it’s been scary to see the stuff that’s underneath the road of my soul. Are those old lines really where the lanes used to be? For example, I’ve dealt with rejection for most (if not all) of my life, and God has recently begun a new repaving process. Now that that’s been exposed, it’s awkward to proceed with my life as I’ve learned how to let other people accept me, and it’s been shocking to see what’s been underneath that old road.

The other day, a friend of mine from school asked me what I was doing for Christmas and invited me to her house for the holiday. Out of the blue. I thanked her kindly and explained that I have plans for Christmas. Later, I wondered why in the world she would want to hang out with me... and I got to thinking about how being accepted felt so foreign, but being rejected seemed so normal. (It should be the other way around.) I felt strangely vulnerable for the rest of the day. Is that the old road that I’ve been driving on all these years??

Anyway, that’s what I mean. When people say that they’re under construction, they’re not kidding.

Horticultural phenomenon

This summer, I became a crazy plant lady who talks to my plants and names them. I planted beans just for the heck of it. The members of my little bean farm were Sprout, Baby Sprout, White Bean, and Mr. Bean. Sprout is a pinto bean and was the first one to germinate. When it came time for me to tie him to a small plastic rod for some support, I wasn’t gentle enough and accidentally bent his stalk somewhere in the middle. I felt horrible and treated him quite gingerly thereafter. It looked like I accidentally stunted his growth, especially since his peers all outgrew him.

 

But an interesting thing happened. After all the other little beanstalks died off, Sprout survived them all. I think he’s in the last phase of his little plant life, but look at him! He’s still mostly green and is even starting to produce a tiny bit of fruit.

Did my accidental handling of him actually help him?

Similarly, is sorrow really better than laughter? Did the events that should have killed us actually make us stronger? Ecclesiastes 7:3 is definitely onto something.

Vindication phenomenon

A phrase that God gave me for 2019 was “major vindication.” For example, a boss from my old writing job wrote on a performance review, “Tirzah doesn’t think before she writes.” I got pretty angry when I read that, of course, and that particular job ended pretty badly for me. (If you followed my emo blog posts from several years ago, perhaps you remember reading about this.)

However, several months ago, I was hired to do some freelance writing. Somebody actually paid me to write for them. I guess I don’t suck as a writer after all. Hmm. I can get used to God sticking up for me like that.

What’s next?

2019 truly turned out to be a phenomenal year, but I think 2020 will be even better. I had a feeling that I would experience all-new things in 2019, and I have. I wonder now if maybe all of that’s just been setting the stage for something else.

The word that God has given me for my 2020 is “epic.” A phrase that He’s given me for 2020 is “on the edge of your seat.” He’s shown me that major change is coming—for the better. I know I’m going to be living life on the edge of my seat in the coming year, but I don’t think it’s going to be in a bad way. I think it’s going to be in a good way. I think watching my life unfold in 2020 is going to be like watching a good epic film in the movie theater where the bad guys have given the superhero some hard knocks, and maybe they’ve been holding her underwater. Will she make it? The suspense is killing you! And then at the last possible second, she emerges from her underwater prison and kicks all of the bad guys’ butts in one fell swoop. Then the credits begin to roll, and you leap out of your seat in a moment of satisfying triumph. Yesssss! She made it!

Bring it.