Self-Worth

#truth

I've wanted to write about this for a while but every time I sit down to write I find myself at a loss for words. I find myself searching for a way to accurately convey how I feel about this topic-because I am terrified of coming across as cliche. I don't want to come across as if I think I've figured it all out or that I am preaching-so I stitch my mouth closed and sit on my hands.

Even now who do I think I am to even speak to this subject? I'm just twenty-two, a quirky, naive young girl-what do I know?

But this is what I struggle with, this is one of the battle grounds that I have walked and been found lying on the ground in defeat far too often. I can speak to this because my critical eyes tear myself apart and naturally the lack of grace that I use to measure myself starts trickling down into the way that I view others. I start to judge then impatience and distaste instead of love and acceptance start to become the tenor of my life.

In the moments when I am most fully aware of the buckets of grace and recognize that I am swimming in an ocean of unending love and forgiveness; that is when I realize that I free to love people. I start recognizing that the people surrounding me are characters in this grand story just like I am-some are just more tightly gripped in the addictions, hurt and pain that to some extent pervade all of our lives. I remember more quickly that I don't know all of the back stories, I don't know the confusion, brokenness, and road they have had to walk, I don't know the demons that hunt them, whispering lies into their ears.

I see girls who run to relationship after relationship hoping and praying that they will finally find someone who will give them the love and acceptance they so desperately crave. I see the world throwing images of a very narrowly defined definition of beauty into our faces demanding that we join the rat race. Demanding that we lose more weight, never age, have flawless skin, and have a perfect wardrobe. I see people who try to find their worth in the occupation, their reputation, and their material possessions. And to some degree or another at different times: I've been all those people. I see people look for something to drown out the voices with alcohol, food, drugs, "fun"...pick your poison.

G. K. Chesterton once said, "Every man who knocks on the door of a brothel is looking for God.” And I think he captures it perfectly...we are all searching for something to fill this void that exists in the center of our being. The void that tells us that something is not right in the world. Pain, sadness, heartache and death were never meant to have the final word.

This is getting much longer than I was intending it too...

I guess all I really want to say is, you're enough, you're loved, you're desired and you're beautiful-even with your scars, hurts, hang-ups, and failures. And you can be saved, redeemed, and free. You can have what you could never have earned on your own. Check you pride at the door and accept that Jesus loves you just as you but not as you should be-because we will never be as we should be.

Screw this world ladies and gentleman. Screw it's ridiculous rules and impossible standards of beauty.

I will never be that girl/woman and that's fine by me.

I will never be a size 2. I will never have a good sense of style.

I will never be perfect. I will always be a little of kilter.

And that is totally fine by me

Because I am redeemed.

I am Ming-Wai.

I like to read books too much.

I am super nerdy.

I only wear make up when I feel like it.

I don't need a smart phone

I would rather be comfortable than look good.

I am worse off than I know.

But I'm more loved than I can imagine.

And I love Jesus a whole freakin lot.

Now He is all that and a bag of chips :)

What should I do next?

“What would I actually do if I had it to do all over again? Heeding John’s counsel, I would simply do the next thing in love.”– Brennan Manning

This quote has been playing in the background of my thoughts lately.

I love it. I love this quote because I love to over complicate things and it cuts through all my questions as to what I should do next. It hacks away at my desire to know the end result of something before I begin, it prunes through all of the existential stuff I deal with and gets back to the heart of the matter.

What should I do next? Doesn't really matter--just infuse it, cover it, soak it, and then actually do it - with love.

Sometimes I feel like a rose bush; I grow best when I am pruned back with regularly and remember that the important things really are not as complicated as my overly analytical self would like to make them.

When my life is interrupted-speak with love. When that person is about to get on my last nerve...what should I do? Whatever doing something in love looks like. What does my future look like? What is God going to do with my life? What does He want from me? Those questions are answered almost irritatingly simple truth -- "Whatever you do Ming, do it in love." 
The part that is incredibly frustrating is that I fail to do it most of the time. I forget that this is what I am created to do-and I begin to think and act like the dirt of the earth is all that is woven into my being and that it has the only and final word.I lose my temper, I gossip, I spin the story to make myself look more favorably in my own eyes and in the eyes of others, I judge, I let offences steep in my soul, I become apathetic, my eyes wander, I forget who I am, I am the prodigal and the stuck up son who stayed home, and I run away from the very One who would save me.
I am trying though, grasping this idea and the God behind it. 

Remembering that He loves me no matter what I do and maintains a firm grip on me because I cannot hold on myself. Remembering that in the midst of my brokenness and failings: I am loved. I am cherished and adored and loved and valued beyond comprehension, just as I am and not as I should be because I willnever be what I should be this side of heaven. 

And when I make my camp here and remember who I am, what follows is freedom and love.

And then, and only then can I really love.

So...

Do things.
Don't just say things.
Do things.

Don't just do things capriciously.

Do things and purposely infuse and cover them with love.

Maybe One Day...

This morning I woke up on the best possible side of the bed. The world is washed with the feeling of newness, the weather is promising a gorgeous spring day and I have the day off of work.

Maybe one day I will grow old, cynical, and view the world through a cracked and bitter lens.
Maybe one day I will stop being astounded at the fact that the color green exists and that I can smell bread baking.
Maybe one day I will become jaded, hardened, and not care that I live on a ball that is hurtling through the universe.
Maybe one day I will find that my sense of wonder has died.
Maybe one day I will find that I must do crazy things to make myself feel anything.
Maybe one day I will find that I do care not for fairy tales anymore and that I have come to believe that stories are only for children.
Maybe one day I will stop feeling as if all of life is an awfully grand adventure.
Maybe one day I will start feeling more scared of death and try to live life more carefully.
Maybe one day I will stop feeling a sense of awe when I think about grace, mercy, and love.
Maybe one day I will stop finding great enjoyment climbing trees, swinging on hammocks, prayer, waffles, good conversation, laughter with friends, bowls of cereal, walking through words, smelling flowers, baby animals, reading books, autumn, boots, scarves, SPRING, shorts, cinnamon rolls, long walks, soft blankets, swishy skirts, the feel of the wind through my hair and a cup of tea.
Maybe one day...
But today is not that day.

I lay outside late last night reading in the hammock-until my hands felt like ice. Then I stopped reading, I buried my hands under my down comforter that I had dragged outside to accompany me and stared up at the sky beneath the spindly branches of the oak tree that I was resting under.

I thought about how I simultaneously feel incredibly ancient and also like a young naive girl at the same time. I wondered how it was possible that I am told that I am pretty mature and yet incredibly childlike at the same time. I wondered how it can be that I filled at one moment with joy and gratefulness for the life I have here on earth-and yet have a deep yearning for the holy shores of  uncreated light. I am a creature consisting of many dichotomies. 

I thought about how dark the branches looked against the midnight blue sky, I looked at the stars and marveled at the fact that there galaxies and universes out there besides the one that I reside in, I looked at the horizon and was reminded anew of the absolute ridiculousness that I was in a small hammock on a ball that is spinning and twirling through space at over a thousand miles an hour (gravity is quite an amazing thing), and I thought how absurd platypuses look.

Maybe you think I am only like this because I am young, naive, and you think simply think the world has just dealt me a good hand...but one day...one day I will grow up.
I am sorry if you think me to simplistic and childish.

Maybe one day my heart will grow old and I will begin to think and act like a stodgy adult to please you people.
But...today is not that day.

Sunshine and Freckles.

Life

Religious activities are so much easier to quantify than a relationship...

Putting all my belief's in a nice neat little box is much easier than wrestling with God...

And it's so much easier to label people than it is to love them...

The one thing that frustrates me more than anything else about myself it is my incredibly short memory I have when it comes to remembering that the only identity I have that matters at all--is that I am loved beyond all imagination. I'll grasp it for a moment and then it will slip and spill like water from my hands--and then I start to identify and try to find my worth in so many other things.

I start to try to find my worth in what people think of me.
or my intelligence.
or how I look.
But then the inevitable happens and I am reminded how incredibly much I fall short of my own standards--much less God's.
And I see how impatient I am.
And how selfish I am.

And I feel hopeless and feel like I will never change.

And then I remember...I am loved.
Deeply. Completely. Utterly. Loved.
Loved.

And I remember that this life is worth it.

Risen Indeed

Risen Indeed.

And so the winter dies with a blast of icy wind

Like a mournful cry—it’s giving up the ghost again

Another sheet of snow melts away to gold and green

Just look at Peter go, he’s racing to the tomb to see

Where has my Jesus gone?

He is not dead;

he is risen, risen indeed

And now the flowers bloom like a song of freedom

Behold the earth is new, if only for the season

And so the seed that died for you becomes a seedling

Just put your hand into the wound that bought your healing

And let your heart believe

He is not dead;

he is risen, risen indeed

And the rain will fall on the furrow

It immerses the earth in sorrow

Mary, the sun will rise again

Mary, the sun will rise again

Daughter, listen, listen

Daughter, listen

He speaks your name

Father Abraham could not have dreamed of this

Could never understand the end of all those promises

How all the pieces fit, every star and grain of sand

Is safely hid in Jesus’ hand

Let every tongue confess

He is not dead;

he is risen, risen indeed

Mary, the sun will rise again

Daughter, listen, listen

Daughter, listen, he speaks your name.

-------------------------------------------

I love this song so much, the lyrics are perfect.

I love imagining Peter taking off to the tomb sandles flapping, mind racing, the thoughts of his betrayal for a moment forgotten as he runs to see if the news that seems too good to be true is indeed...true. 

The end of all those promises made to Abraham are finally realized and it just makes me so....happy.

Happy Easter everyone.