Growing Up Goes Slow

On Thursday, I am turning 30. Today, I am most definitely wrestling with that reality. I’ve never been a fan of numbers. In fact, much of my life has been spent doing battle with them, often failing quite miserably. I distinctly remember bringing home a math exam with a bright red “54” printed on the top. Oh, the agony! However, I will never forget my parents’ response: “At least you got half right!” One would think that my immediate thought would be, “oh yeah”, but those who are mathematically challenged like me will appreciate that I still had to process that 54% is greater than 50%, and, therefore, greater than half. Only then could I say, “oh yeah”.

So, back to the big 3-0. Did you see the shiver ripple down my spine as I shuddered at the thought? I don’t look old. Sometimes I don’t act old, and I certainly don't feel old. Maybe 30 isn’t really that old… maybe. Over the past few weeks, I have been identifying some of the top reasons why turning 30 is going to be the best birthday ever! I decided it would be a good idea to come up with 30 reasons. A bit cliche, I know, but I couldn't resist. Here they are, in no particular order.

1. I get to say, “I remember when I was in my 20s”. I can officially say I'm a "grown-up"... nominally, of course.

2. It is a milestone birthday.

3. I get 10 whole years to prepare for 40.

4. I get to check a new age group box on forms.

5. 30’s are today’s new 20’s (Thank you, Desperate Housewives).

6. I have a really good reason to celebrate BIG for this birthday!

7. 30’s are the best years for a female vocalist.

8. Turning 30 is a novelty… way better than 21.

9. I’m another year closer to being “student loan” free!

10. I have plenty of time to grow accustomed to being called “ma’am” or “that lady”.

11. I have realized that I am not missing much if I go to bed before midnight (unless, of course, I am celebrating my 30th birthday).

12. When I get carded it is a compliment instead of them not thinking I am old enough.

13. All the life lessons I learned in my 20s, I can now apply to my life.

14. All of my high school and college clothes are back in style.

15. Time waits for no man, but it stands still for a woman of 30 (paraphrased from Robert Frost)

16. I have amazing friends and the best family ever.

17. More disposable income (although to where it's thrown, I'm not sure).

18. People will take me seriously now that I am 30.

19. I can laugh on the inside (and some on the outside) when people can’t believe I am 30.

20. I now have many years of experience being an adult, and I can now advise my parents.

21. I can be president in five years.

22. I am healthy, well, and oh-so-happy-to-be-alive!

23. I will no longer have zits. I will only have to worry about wrinkles and graying hairs.

24. When I was younger 30 was OLD, now I feel 30 is young.

25. Santa doesn’t consider age, just behavior… (I may still be in trouble J)

26. I have embraced the reality that guilt is often an unnecessary emotion.

27. I am completely comfortable living life with my personalized theme music.

28. I am privileged enough to be 30 and have two jobs that I absolutely love.

29. Old enough to know better and still too young to care.

30. Rock and Roll Never Forgets

Thursday starts the best time of my life.
Bring it on!

What Love Really Means... An Excerpt from "I Know You Well"

Of all the biblical characters, I identify most with Mary Magdalene. A woman with an insurmountable number of sins. Though no worse on the “sin-scale” than those of her peers, the blatantly visible consequences were infinitely more extreme. As a result, she was treated differently. She was ridiculed; she was shunned; and she was condemned. No one in their “right mind” associated with her by choice… unless, of course, it was under the cover of nightfall, with the understanding that, in the morning, a stone or two would likely be thrown in broad daylight.

Though I have never been the target of a rock, I remember a time where I wished that the stones being thrown at me were tangible. Shortly after giving my public testimony for the first time, I walked into a room where everyone stopped talking, and all the eyes in the room turned to face me. At first I thought I must have forgotten to brush my hair or zip a zipper. Maybe I even had food in my teeth or something hanging from my nose. The silence, however, lingered… just a little too long, and I knew. I had opened my heart, and it had been trampled upon. I sensed my bare heart, raw and broken, beating slowly in the center of the group while simultaneously feeling the heavy, painful pulse in my chest.

It didn’t make sense. These were the people who were supposed to respond in love, and yet the moment my sin became visible, all I felt was disdain. I turned, and I fled. I still wonder what might have happened if I confronted the group or what might happen if I went back and shared how I experienced that moment. Then, I remember the danger of all my “what if’s” and "if only's" are.

After I left, I couldn’t go home, so I drove to a nearby lake and sat on the beach. It was early and still chilly, but I needed place to be alone and to hurt. As I wiggled by toes in the sand, I felt a presence next to me. It was Him.

“How did you get here?” I asked.

“I am everywhere and right here.”

“You know, You make no sense all to me most of the time.”

“I know, and that’s OK. I know you well. One of these days you will know Me well too.”

I smiled a half smile. I couldn’t help thinking… 1) I don’t want You to know me and 2) How could He even say that if He really did know me?

“Will you let Me show you?”

“HUH?"

He bent at the waist and began to make marks in the sand. I strained to see, but He said, “Wait, I will show you what you need when you need it and only then.”

So, I waited… but the part that I did see made the weight on my heart just a little lighter.

I Get By... With A Little Help From My Friends

“What would you do if I sang out of tune? Would you stand up and throw tomatoes at me?” OK, so I know that line is not what we hear when listening to the recorded version, but if you love The Beatles as much as I do, you know that it is the original line. Side note: Many original working lines were changed; check out “Yesterday” as it is especially fascinating. Ringo insisted upon changing this particular line in “With A Little Help From My Friends” out of fear that tomatoes would actually be thrown. (Poor Richard Starkey was nervous because the group was previously doused with jelly babies during a performance shortly after George shared he had a weakness for the candy).

Anyways, I digress. As those of you who are faithful readers of my blog already know, I always choose a song to go alone with my posts. This particular song has been especially meaningful to me over the last few months. In February, I had surgery and was completely dependent upon others to do a number of things for me. For some of those tasks, it wasn’t overly difficult. I readily accepted, and even asked for, help mowing my lawn, cleaning my house, changing the sheets on my bed, driving me places, but I will be the first to admit that helplessness in any degree is not an easy position for me to take. Yet, here I was, completely dependent upon others for some of the most mundane tasks. I had to accept help cutting my food, putting toothpaste on my toothbrush, taking a shower, even tying my shoes. Despite the fact that it was not the least bit easy, I didn’t have much of a choice. Well, yes I did, but if I didn’t accept help, I would have been a cranky, hungry woman with bad breath, stinky armpits, and untied shoes. Given my choices, accepting help seemed to be the better option.

For two months I felt at my most vulnerable (or close to it) and like I didn’t have much control - neither of which are very comfortable. To put it bluntly, I think I’d rather stand outside during a blizzard in my bathing suit than to be so vulnerable. Ok, ok, I tend to exaggerate to make a point, but I just want to make sure it's clear how much I dislike not being helpless.

So, the purpose of this post? To complain? To wallow? Elicit pity? Not at all. I write all this because I want to say “thank you”. To all those who have helped me over the last few months and who have offered continued help as my surgical recovery continues, thank you so much. I know that I may have deserved a tomato (or two or three) in my face, but I'm extremely grateful for the lack of such aggression, despite the fact that retaliation was likely deserved. I have truly experienced the Body in a refreshingly beautiful way, and, although far outside my comfort zone, I think maybe, just maybe, I might be inclined to accept help again.

After all, I get by with a little help from my friends. Thanks, everyone!

Cry In My Heart

Over the last few weeks, the sermons at my church have been focusing on sin, and last Sunday was quite poignant. I’ve always known that sin makes its dwelling within me, but to hear that the seat of sin is right inside my own heart was pretty gut-wrenching. As a human being, I have a predisposition to sin, and I am organically drawn to it. It is pervasive, and I know that as long as I am on earth, it will likely be a seemingly welcome option to which I will have real difficulty saying “no”.

On a positive note, I have a Savior who has all the necessary power and who has done all the necessary work to prevent sin from reigning within me. There is no power that Christ cannot overcome. And yet, I am still human. To put it bluntly, I am a stubborn and prideful human. Most people who know me can attest to that. I do not like to be wrong, and in many cases, I will debate a point until I am blue in the face, even if you have veritably proved you are right.

I want to perform well as both a therapist and a musician. I don’t want to look silly or dumb or incompetent, yet I am quick to ruminate upon criticism or harsh words. Despite the fact that I am quite confident in my abilities and skills, my fear lies in looking like a fool. My entire life I have always wanted to be good enough, smart enough, funny enough, and so on. I didn’t have to be “the best”, just good enough to be accepted. The problem, however, was that 1) my standards were so high I could never reach them and 2) I was never “me”. I was constantly disappointed because I could never find what I was truly looking for.

Over and over, I tell my clients and students that we do not have to be perfect, and I believe that with all of my heart. However, despite the fact that many of those previously mentioned standards have been lowered, there is still something driving the desire to avoid appearing imprudent.

I have always battled with my pride, but a few days ago I really began to wrestle it. At first it was an occasional slap across the cheek with a kick here and there, but last night was a battle so intense, I gave up. I was battered, and I was bruised. As I lied in bed, the tears trickling down my cheeks, I sensed a presence so sweet I lifted my head to search for where it was. I took a deep breath, stopping the tears for a brief moment to listen; it was only then that I heard it…

“I know you. I have searched you, and I know you. I know everything about you… your thoughts, your future, and your heart. Rest, my child. I am strong; you do not need to fight alone. I know you and everything you need, and I will show you if you let Me.”

“Search me, O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts! And see if there be any grievous way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.”

For the last several months, this has been my prayer. I confess that all too often, I get busy. Whether I am busy seeing clients, teaching music lessons, preparing for recitals, or playing with friends, I sometimes forget the importance of searching my own heart. I sometimes forget that there is Someone who longs to know me… who in actuality already knows me, but longs for me to be open to being known. I am praying in earnest that the depths of my soul would be revealed to me. I am praying that if there is anything of which I may not even be aware preventing me from the most intimate relationship with my Savior, that it will be made known to me.

“There's a cry in my heart
For Your glory to fall
For Your presence to fill up my senses
There's a yearning again
A thirst for discipline
A hunger for things that are deeper

Could You take me beyond?
Could You carry me through?
If I open my heart?
Could I go there with You?”

"Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks finds, and to the one who knocks it will be opened."