Distinct: How It Shows

In which I get mad, mention "soul distinction", and divide the whole world into just two groups.

Boys and girls, this is a short tale about the time a generation forgot...

 they forgot what they are to be about. And I mean the Christian kids. The awkward, lovingly sheltered, semi-socialized goofs I so happily grew up with, in all the churches I rotated through as a child/teenager. At large, something definitely morphed. Almost all over the place.

I got upset.  

Wha...what happened, guys? When did we decide that our social rankings and entertainment and material gratification were what we were most important?!  When did we say that we were simply happy to be forgiven and then not live in utter gratitude of that forgiveness? (when I say I get upset, this means I got really mad in private and huffily wrote out my feelings in a notebook a midnight. I don't think I could yell at my friends if they were trying to kill me.)

When I say "at large" I mean there still those who can be found, scattered among all the others, who still want to hold tight to a faith, God, something deeper. Even these are hard to spot, because they have the immense difficulty of holding on to something everyone else seems to take so lightly.

Rewind only six or seven years. We looked different. We stuck out. A lot. Like sore thumbs. We were pretty proud of it, too. Our speech, our actions, our dress, how we spent our free time.We were the good kids, and we were special.

Okay, this attitude really had it's flaws. We stuck up our noses a little to much. Anything our parents said was worldly, we took to the next step, snubbing it, seeing anything mom and dad said was bad, as absolute filth.(Not to say their isn't filth to be snubbed in this world. Golly this subject is hard to balance.)

I'm gonna make somebody mad...but to a degree, I think we stuck our noses so high in the air because that worldliness appealed to all of us on some level or another. We knew it was bad, we knew we would get in trouble if we tried it. But somewhere in those brains of ours, I know things appealed to us. "Ok it's vain but I sure wouldn't mind trying to be prettier. It's selfish, but it would be nice to be rich. It's lazy, but some of those video games look pretty fun."

How could I have the audacity to make a blanket statement: that all super conservative kids secretly, almost subconsciously want to be less conservative? Because we are fallen human beings, naturally selfish and all bent towards desire and gratification.

We're sinners. It's kinda what we do.

One of my favorite quotes ever? "Be in the world and not of it."

I am immersed in this world. In its people, its music, its beliefs, its griefs and sorrows, its moralities and immoralities, its media and styles. It swarms all around me, up against my skin, in my face, screaming in my ears.  Some days I feel like I am drowning in it. (Love the feel of this artwork)

While I am guilty of the very human habit of trying to equate material things with a non-material longing, I count myself as one of those who watched as more than a few of my friends kinda...melted...into the self gratifying masses of the world. It was slow,  they still seem to have "morals" but somewhere in there, the core attitude/focus changed. You could tell, not necessarily by how they dressed or looked, but definitely by how they acted and what they wanted to talk about.

If I were to be in a crowded room, full of people, at first glance, I would look no different. Jeans, t-shirt. The styles of this world have stuck to me. I don't look like I'm from the 1800s. I don't act like it. I even wear converse sneakers and makeup. *gasp*

But, if someone bothers to talk to me, I want them, Lord willing, to see this: I look like you and talk like you, but I am not all caught up in this material world that I am a part of. There should be spirit and a soul that leaks even into my surface level conversations, that shines through the cracks of my otherwise "normal" personae.

Those who struggle hold on to a real faith, to really make it their own, may change from their parents standards somewhat.  But they are trying to get doctrines grounded and find a purpose, not trying to get what will make them supposedly happy, or satisfied.

On one of my frequent "notebook episodes", I scribbled out a perspective I now realize have almost subconsciously developed when I look at every single person I see:

"Two groups: the ones who are ultimately absorbed with self, and how self does in life. Self wants love, acceptance, attention, they want to "live": that must mean those vacations, the whimsical BBQs and lake parties, complete with cold beverages, games, and cute clothes. Its movies, shows, entertainment. Playing with emotions and hormones. It turns to trends, some of which are pretty cool. But it's basic, almost animal desire for physical and sensual gratification on one level or another.

Then there are those of us who will separate what's a blessing to be enjoyed and what is trash that shouldn't be obsessed over. We struggle to see how other people can be so easily absorbed and satisfied with stuff that turns to dust in the end, pleasures that really do fade, and social standings that are as empty as a balloon.  Its not just that we snub that level of shallowness, we don't understand how others can be so utterly obsessed with pointless things.  We just don't get it."

So please, think...are you distinct anymore? Has your focus changed? What is your purpose?

Me? I'm still struggling with finding my exact identity and faith in God. Those questions are still bothering me, big time. But I know I don't want my identity in this material world, in physical desires. There is something more. This distinction will show. And it's not necessarily an in your face kind of distinction. It bleeds, like ink, through the paper of your soul.

I wish I Had Smiled

In which: this happens to me all the time.

You are looking around the room,

 people watching. Your eyes dart from person to person, making an assessment of each one in turn, imagining what they are thinking, who they are looking at, and what their secret dreams are. All is going well until somebody's eyes turn suddenly, and they look back at you.

Your eyes meet for one millisecond, and then you blink hard. When your eyes open again, they are neatly focused on something else in the room and you have carefully kept your expression exactly the same. "They didn't even notice that I was looking their way", you think, trying to believe that you've just been awfully sly and clever. But all along you know that the one millisecond gave you away. You were just caught red-handed.

The more you think about it, the more you wish that you had not looked away. You wish you had simply smiled, in acknowledgement that you were both just caught staring at each other. Everyone looks around and spies on observes other people on occasion. There should be no shame in it. So why couldn't you have just smiled? Or winked? Or nodded a neat "hello, you've caught me looking at you, and isn't this amusing?"

But you didn't and now it's too late.

You feel a little embarrassed by your lack of honesty. And you go right on pretending that you never looked at them in the first place.

It happens to everyone.

(I can't take full credit for this little snippet. I got the idea from another blog a long time ago, who got it from someone else...yeah anyway.)

This Child

In which we talk about screaming children and the sovereignty of God.

My parents did this really cool thing.

They gave each of their kids full names a special meaning. Jillian means "childlike". Put that together with my middle name, Faith, and you have...childlike faith.  Faith like a child has in their parents.

Think of any little kid you know. Or better yet, you, when you were just a wee tot.

A child does not ask questions. They don't care about the world. If they know that Daddy loves them, and that they are safe and fed and happy, nothing else matters to them. All is right with their world. New sights, new sounds, the process of learning all sorts of amazing things...when they have this trust and safety, growing up and discovering things is a fun, incredible, and joy filled journey. Their world is full. And usually, children don't ask...they just know that they are safe.

That's the faith we are supposed to have in our heavenly Father*. This child, though, despite the fact that she has been given that special name, is wrestling immensely with having that faith.

It's as if me, the little child, suddenly stopped snuggling safely against her heavenly fathers chest, pushed away, and said,

 "Wait, Daddy, hold on. Why should I trust you? Are you controlling everything I do? Why do you do everything that you do?

 Yeah, you created me. But once was born, did you decide what I was going do for every millisecond of my entire life? Did you timeline all the times I was going to disobey you and sin against you? Father, that doesn't make sense. If you decided all the times I was going to sin, why does that Bible say that it grieves and angers you when I sin*?  So you can't be all powerful, in the way that I thought you were. So should my trust be more of a trust that even though You are not all powerful, to that extent, you are more all powerful and all knowing that I am? I don't know if I can do that, Father. Can I just trust that you know what you're doing better than I do? Is that enough?"

Then it's as if me, still that worried little child, slid down from her fathers lap and started anxiously pacing the floor, arms folded, brow furrowed in concern:

Father, why did you even bring me into this world? What was the point? Why, why would you condemn some people to hell if you say that you loved the world?  It's as if you created some people for eternal suffering. That's twisted. That can't be right!

 Father, I can't have peace, or joy, or enjoy life anymore until I know why I'm here and what I'm supposed to be doing. I HAVE to know! Yes, yes, I know about the scriptures and the great commission* and the commandments*. I've heard those ones since before I can even remember. But I can't go out and share about your love if I'm not sure of it myself!  It doesn't make sense, Father!

Then, this little child starts taking short, quick, panicked breaths: " Why are you doing all this? Proof, Father, show me I can trust you!"

The child (A.k.a me) then slumps to the floor, dissolving in tears  and screaming "I want to trust you! You have a plan but I'm not seeing how it makes any sense!"

At this point, I'd imagine most earthly fathers would gently scoop that child back into their arms, and comfort and soothe them until they calmed down, most likely falling asleep in his arms while he whispers, "its going to be alright. You can't understand, you don't have the ability to, so just trust me and you'll see in the end how everything works."

But, my fears being what they are, I would push away once more going "no, no, that's not good enough:

Why. Should. I. Trust. You?"

 And well, we are back where started, and the questions and the panicking begin all over again.

"I can't read my books and learn my lessons and eat my food and enjoy all the gifts of everyday life that you gave me with anything but a sense of emptiness. I don't feel safe anymore.  I can't talk and "play" with my brothers and sisters and enjoy their sweet company like I used to be able to. I can't do anything anymore with out this thought bombarding me, everywhere I turn."

Is it enough? To just trust that God, even though he may not be as Sovereign as I once thought He was, Is more sovereign than me, so therefore whom else should I trust?

Some days, it feels like I trust in God and hold on to Christianity simply because I have to. Life would be pointless without a God and I would go bananas without a point and purpose, so I just believe  because I need a point. Not good enough, I know.

 Soon, I hope, I can piece this shattered faith back into something stronger than it was before. Even if it takes looking up the word Faith in the Exhaustive concordance and reading every single reference.

*Psalm 131
*Old Testament...Gods anger with his people.
*Matt 28:19-20, Mark 16:15-16
*Matt 19:18-19

The Pain We Feel

In which is all I can give right now.

With each word I write, I want to encourage others. 

I want to make you smile. I want to bring you back to Christ. I wish to give you hope. To let you know you are not alone. To give pep talks to people who feel like giving up. To keep your chin up and keep you excited about life.

But some days, I am empty and have nothing to give. Because I'm really fallible and really human. I am crazy to think that I will almost always know what to say.

I'm empty.

I'm hollow.

Actually, I'm the one who needs the encouraging, mostly. I get really, really, really down and out sometimes.

 I wonder why we bother. Why parties? Why books? Why vacation? Why live here? Why live there? What does it matter?  Why try? A million questions throw me into abyss. The everyday no longer seems enough. It seems distant. Inconsequential. Time is a heavy burden. And the only thing that I can remember when it gets this rough is that God saved me, so any pain and emptiness and complete hopelessness that comes upon me, it will not last forever.

If I am one who trusts in God, I will be in Glory with Him someday. Pain in the night, Joy in the morning. If that's all we can hang onto when things get so very dark in our souls, then so be it. The pain may not go away for awhile, but it doesn't last. Hang on. This is for me, as much as anybody else.

"The pain that you feel is only temporary
It does not define you, even if 
at some point, it changes you
but not to someone ugly,
but someone who is strong
who growing 
and who is learning. 

You are a beautiful person
only passing by
this pain that is temporary"

-P.C

This is Where I Thrive

In which I give you another quote. I am feeling quite poetic today. Deal with it.

Here's a jaw-dropper for you...I am female, therefore I am emotional.

No way, right? Betcha you never would have guessed.

My older sister told me a few weeks ago: "You know Jillian, I've been reading your blog, and you are really good at portraying feeling." (Thank you, sis, by the way. I treasure those little compliments)

And because I am emotional and so much of what I write has to do with all those feelings, I think it tends to look a little...mushy? Sappy? Melodramatic?

Sometimes I genuinely fear it's overdone. "Oh dear, am I being too sentimental? Will they think it's overkill?  Am I a literary drama queen?"

One of these days, I keep telling myself, I need to buckle down and seriously write some good, sound, theological arguments on all my beliefs on God and not make it so flowery and tender and, well...emotional. It needs to be all boxed together and organized, with a generous sprinkling of" therefores' " and "herebys' ". It might even need to seem a little boring and dry. It needs to be grown up and serious, and for Pete's sake, lose all the italic emphasis' on everything!

Sometimes I honestly think, "Why can't I write more like a well educated pastor in his fifties?" All calm arguments and logical articles on things. Besides the fact that, duh, a twenty year old female is about the farthest thing from a pastor in his fifties, I genuinely convice myself sometimes that that's what my writing style should be more like.

In a word, things should be a little more....stable.

But really...I just don't think that's going to happen. Sorry folks, but I believe I will always write from the emotional roller coaster of female viewpoint. (Ooh, another shocker, right?)

Maybe it's too emotional. Maybe it's too tender. Too feminine or overdone. Maybe a little immature, wide eyed, idealistic. Perhaps it does focus too much on love and happiness and wistful thinking.

But when that is who I am, how God created me, and where I am at, how can it be anything else?

 I'm not saying its right or wrong...maybe its right, maybe its very wrong.

It is what it is. God help me if that is not what it should be.

Every so slightly unrelated, I found a quote that perfectly sums up those feelings of the past few weeks that I have been writing about. Please. Enjoy.

"Sure. I'll make small talk. Discuss the ins and outs of a 'typical' day. Pass the time lightly. Say tiny things. I'm happy to tread surfaces with a smile, and will. Sometimes. Yet-when I look at you, I know there are layers.

 Dimensions. 

Collections of ancient wisdom.

 Stories on stories. 

Core needs. 

Humanness. 

 This is where I light up. This is where I thrive. You can't be caged up in a pool for long. Not when you are someone who wants oceans." -Victoria Erickson

Fragments of the Battle

In which are rather random and unorganized thoughts on the extraordinary life.

If you have read more than one or two of any of my past posts, you'll probably see a trend:

She wants to make a difference, she knows small changes, little things, are important. She knows she can't do that whole change the world thing on her own.

You wanna to know why I always seem to harp on this whole "change the world in little ways" thing? Drum roll...I struggle with the every day, with the small things. When something doesn't seem to have point, when it seems it's a waste of time, when I go out in the world, observe the people, driving in their cars, busy doing all their things, and its all material and I can't connect with them, it frustrates me. immensely.

Wait...we are talking about Jillian here, right? The girl who loves her little blessings and the simple life and the mundane tasks? The girl who does the normal things with joy and fulfillment? Who realizes that the everyday things at her fingertips are actually mind boggling? 

I thought all she wanted to do was write, read books, get married, and love people?

But you see, that's why she writes about the small stuff so much. Because she is trying, with Gods help, to embrace it.

I picture this: A woman who diligently does the extraordinary. All the the people she connects with, she touches in an unforgettable, fresh way, she leaves them with a slightly changed life. The type of person who, after you have a conversation with her, leaves behind traces of hope and strength the greatest of all...unconditional love.

She lives a life that is bustling with people, that sings of a job well done. Every thing she does, she throws herself into recklessly. She gives everything. She connects with people, does her level best to understand them. She realizes how blessed she is by God, how much God gave her, how much of a change God has made in her life, inward and outward. She lives those changes daily.  She decides she is willing to die for her family, if the need ever arose.

 Each moment is experienced to its fullest, dreams and thoughts are realized, blessings given and taken, joy comes from pain. Times of solemn reflection, even torturous, philosophical thoughts on God and Satan and the world and how everything relates. An ever passionate feeling, always excited for the amazing things that are going to come.  Everything she does has a purpose, has a goal to make improvement, somewhere on earth. She wants to burn bright, burn strong, stand out, give others everything. It is a life that could be set to This type of music.

Why can't I be an extraordinary girl in a broken world? Why can't I live the epic saga of life?
I fear boredom. I fear getting tired of this life, of the people in it. That is selfish. I do not want to be that selfish, so consequently, I should  afraid of the mundane, right? Because I should not be thinking of myself.

I know, even though I does not like it, that the way to live extraordinarily is to live the ordinary. To run the errands and babysit the kids and clean the house...even though it seems so... material. So tiresome. Pointless. Repetitive. But it has it's place, it's purpose. Perhaps that purpose is solely to be content with what I have.

I realize I am not special in this area. We all crave grandness. Why else do we, as humans, gobble up stories and movies and music that play with and pull on our emotions, and always wish for life to be more, well, grand? (On a side note, is it not grand that we have such a full and deep range of emotions?)


"...I'll struggle on, inspired that God has called me to this life -- not even this life in particular but to life in general. The life of creativity, of love, of beauty, of holiness -- and all of that at a high price of discipline". Bailey, MHJ

Single And...Well, Sorry

In which, trying to find joy in my solitude, I struggle.
 (Written in the shadow of Valentines day. No, of course it's not a coincidence. Pfft. Don't be silly)

So funny thing: I wrote this resolve about being really happy and single.

I said I was so grateful that I was not married.

After I wrote that, it was as if God gave a knowing nod of His head and said: "Okay, lets test that one. Are you really happy and single?" 

It probably hasn't helped that I have been reading C.S Lewis' "A Grief Observed", a book of his thoughts after his beloved wife died of cancer. It is an absolutely beautiful picture of two people whose minds met, whose souls touched, whose intellects sparked each-other, and they experienced the merging of two christian souls, a connection far beyond the physical. (Do go read it. It's very sad but it is worth it)

 Lewis wrote many analogies of what it felt like to have her gone: A ship without it's starboard side, a man with his leg cut off, who continually feels the phantom pain, an entire half of who he was, something that had locked together and merged with him, ripped away. He questioned his own belief in the sovereignty and goodness of God.

Perhaps it is a silly fantasy of mine, but I felt like I could relate to Lewis. I simply stand on the other side of that problem... I have not connected with whoever my soul mate is yet. I don't feel whole. Somethings not complete. I am missing a huge key piece of what my life is going to be. Some days, that phantom pain of something I have not even known yet, really screams at me.

So am I chugging along, waiting for that other human being, whoever he is, to come and merge with me, to feel whole?

 Or, is this me, coming closer to being content with Gods love alone?

But if God created me to be a married person, to become someones other half, than is it not as it should be, to feel incomplete?
(You know, right? In Genesis? it was it not good that man was alone? So of course it's not good for woman to be alone either. Duh*)

Perhaps, then, I should just try to shelve this longing, instead of trying to get rid of it, shelve it up high and as out of reach as humanly possible, until the time is right and I can pull it out, and enjoy it in all its fullness. Can I tuck it away for now? 

I turn once more to my handy notebook filled with past thoughts:

"In a recent conversation with a wise older man, he told me how his son is a mountain guide. His son will take people into the mountains, into the middle of nowhere, and sometimes, they get snowed in, stuck, up in the wilderness. Some people get very worried and they feel like they have to get back to civilization at the time they set in there minds. Everything becomes an emergency, stressful, filled with anxiety. 

Others, they look around and see it as an adventure, something to sit back and watch, enjoying each new and unexpected thing. They see the problems as challenges to take on and overcome. The urgent emergency became a grand adventure to wonder at and have good memories of. 

The man who was telling me this story was talking in regards to my being single. I loved this, and it has come to my mind multiple times since then. 

As I think about all the things little, big, important, all the enjoyable and the terrible, it comes to mind:

An adventure, Jillian. Enjoy every single minute."

Even the struggles I have with vast and ridiculous self consciousness, the aching to be one with someone else, the ups and downs, the overwhelming desire to tell myself I am just not good enough to do anything, dealing with the mundane things in life, and all the times I question myself and  my God, they are a challenge that sharpens me, not just a depressing problem to deal with.

*It sounds like I am contradicting my last post on singleness, right? In no way. I still hold to everything I stated, more then ever. But I had to be honest about the struggle. This is my challenge right now. This is my adventure. How will it end? The saga will continue, I'm sure. Happy Valentines day, by the way.

Why We Must Get Up Every Morning

in which is a change of my heart, and a change of lifestyle.

I have always thought I was a people-hater. Extreme introvert.  Lady hermit.

I never liked crowds, I'm not a huge fan of parties, large groups make me nervous, and actually, a tad bit panicky. "Oh man, so many people...deep breath...don't make a fool out of yourself. (Inwardly hyperventilates)."

Therefore, I must just hate people altogether, right?

Way, way wrong.

Throughout my entire teenager-hood, I firmly stuck to this belief with uncharacteristic, stone faced stubbornness. I am an introvert, guys. I just don't like people. Go away. I like my own company best. Or a book. A book is good. End. Of. Story.

Except not really.

True, I dislike small talk, pettiness, superficial behavior, flirting, immaturity, and overall fake-ness.

But people. I love people.

I shocked myself when I faced up to this.  Introversion was the screen I hid behind because getting to know people is painful. It is ridden with sin. It often always hurts. Because when I get to know a person, I want to know their ins and outs and struggles and beliefs and dreams. (blame it on the INFJ personality). I want to really know a person.  I need to connect with them on something. I hate small talk, but because I decided that I didn't like other people altogether, that's what I turned to, more frequently than I would like to admit. I was, to quote a friend, "in a mental prison of my own making."

I wrote this last spring, and when I went back a read it recently, it rang so true with what I am realizing now:

"I am so selfish. I don't care enough about other people and I am very unhappy with that fact. I feel very guilty about it.

Most of the time, when I show concern or care for others, it is not out of real, true honest care for them. It is because I want that attention and care directed back to me. As non-sociable as I may seem, I still have that very human desire to be loved, cared about and held dear, precious. To be wanted. And that selfish, sometimes desperate craving pushes its way, slyly, into how I treat others. I have concern for someone, only so they will show concern back. This can be on the shallow levels of having conversations with coworkers about humdrum life, to deeper interactions with my family.

Love..it's unconditional. It does not pretend to be all concerned about someones suffering, just so that that concern will be retaliated later.  That's not love. That's not the love that God has for us, that I now wish to have for others.

I want to look at others and instead of thinking:

"I wonder if they like me?"
"I hope they thought I was funny"
"Do they really care?"
"Did I impress them?"
"Do they think I am being stupid?"

I put my mind on a much better path. That one is not going to get me anywhere. I want to find the best in people, and, having as much love as God does, forgive the worst.*

I have the desire to look at another person and enjoy them to the full, their personality quirks, the things that makes them, them. to be amazed at talent, not jealous. To find little habits that are cute or funny. To appreciate anothers sensitivity or intelligence. When I observe another person, I want to remember that they are a fallen, sinful human being, just like me, who struggle with gargantuan human error. Why do I always judge them instead of connecting, with the fact that we are both just terrible people without God?

I 1 Corinthians 14, it says to pursue love. You have to work for it, try for it, pick it up, make it a habit, make a painful continuous effort to love. Instead, we all just want to meet up with all the people that we relate to, decide who we like, usually for selfish reasons, and call it friendship or love.

That is just not what I am going to settle for. With Gods help, I am going to pursue love. And I am not talking about romantic love.

I am saying I want too love people because God loved them, and are worth something to Him. 

He gave some of them great senses of humor; talent simple tingles in others.

 He gave some a naturally sweet and caring demeanor. 

Some have great beauty, some amazing intelligence. 

He made some able to care for others and others, the ability to create pretty mind blowing things.

I want to clap my hands as I watch it all and delight in others. Purely, cleanly, with nothing more behind it than that I really am in awe of so many wonderful ways a person can be unique.

I am going to open up a long shut, sensitive door and be concerned when another is hurting, to feel their pain with them. Because that's what Christ does, and I want to be more like Him.

I want my love to be raw and open, susceptible to hurt** because I care SO MUCH about others. I'll say it again..loving like God. And I think I am finding out how that love works. How much more in-comprehensive Gods love is.

I want to be able to unselfishly stay up all night with a brother or sister who is hurting, not because I feel morally obligated or it will impress others when I complain about it later, but because I want that person to be comforted, to not be lonely. I want to be able to disregard "me time" because there is someone out there who needs a hand and I know with all my heart that God sees them as precious and special, noteworthy and important. I don't want to give it second thought when someone asks me to give of my time and energy. I want menial, simple tasks to be the greatest joy and fulfillment and privilege, because looking good or being popular, impressing others, is not going to fill that void. I pray this is a step closer to woman God wants me to be."

 When I wonder why I bother to get up, to make an effort, to keep  going...I must remember.

I must remember that there are over six billion people out there right now, every single one of them in need of love and forgiveness...in need of God. They need care and a friendly smile, they need light and encouragement and help. How on earth could I get bored with life and wonder what the point is?

If I look beyond my own little world, which, granted, has plenty of ups and downs and frustrations and struggles, I will see that those struggles don't have to consume me.

I must pull past those struggles and pains, show others that I am a flailing mess too, take their hand, and say, "lets get through this together, the way God created it to be. I will fall, I will sin, I will forget about you, but I will stand back up, confess that I did it wrong, and remember you again."

 And again and again and again.

There are over six billion people. There are over six billion ways to share this love and strength and struggle.

Pick a few methods. Pick a few people. Stick to them. Pick more, the older you get, never get bored.

1 Cor 13. Matthew 22:38-39: This is my manifesto. 

I will never run out of reasons to get up. Or reasons to give up, either.

*I know there are several issues connected with this, such as correcting a brother...that loving him is to chastise him. That we cannot look over a fellow believers sin, because that would not be true love. That is another subject that I must tackle for myself, but one thing at a time. Remember the waterfall?

**This is not to say that I just trust anyone, tell them everything. Sin is rampant, and I must be careful. But I must not hate people...I must hate the sin.

Single And Not Sorry: 3 Reasons

In which you find out reasons why to be happy, really, actually, happy, and single.

Have you ever felt that thrill of a great idea or a thought, clicking into place, and suddenly the world was a better place? 

I did.

 I hurriedly scribbled them out in the nearest notebook, before they got away from me and I couldn't catch them again. That was months ago.

It's actually these scribblings that sparked my blogging desire again:

"Where am I at? I am an adult, not married, living with my parents. I have a job and some hobbies. 

Mostly, I guess you could say, I'm being grateful that I am not married. 

Yes. You read that right.

So, SO many people I know, young ladies all of them, spent their single years ultimately unhappy, always pining for marriage, forever bemoaning that they weren't being loved the way they wanted to be. They wanted to feel fulfilled, escape their current family lives, their parents...many different reasons. Marriage was the biggest thing in their lives. The desire to be unconditionally loved had a massive pull on their hearts.

Not for this girl.

Don't get me wrong. I would love to be married. 

That would be indescribably great. It is going to be a wonderful thing, to be someones wife.
To find a companion is something my heart really does ache for. I admit that my heart is tugged by that same longing...come on, who isn't?

But.

I am on a path to find joy, great joy, in singleness. I refuse to spend the relatively few years I will have in singleness, wishing that I was not single. I would regret that so much, I know I would! 

Why pine for companionship when I can use my time to be there for those who are lonely, in need of a friend?

Why waste my brain on sour discontent?
 When I can be squeezing more productivity out of the day?
 Thinking about all my blessings? 
Learning useful skills for when I am married?
 Becoming the me I should be?

Marriage is beautiful. It's holy. Sanctified by God. For right now, though, my thoughts are on other passages in scripture that make me so, so thankful that I am single. 

 Paul wrote a letter to some people called the Corinthians. To the unmarried, and the widows, he says, "It is better that they remain as I..." He, being unmarried. 

Why? 

"If a virgin marries she has not sinned.  

Yet such will have trouble in this life, 

and I am trying to spare you."*

  This passage fills my single heart with such

   contentment as can never be conveyed to another with words! 

I don't believe that this passage is meant to make us feel bad about being married. Rather, take it as a way to be encouraged in your singleness. 

Now that I have that great joy established, I ask myself: What can I do and where can I go with being joyfully single? 

"The woman who is unmarried, and the virgin, 

is concerned about the things of the Lord, 

that she many be holy both in body and spirit;

 but one who is married is concerned about the things 

of the world, how she may please her husband.

 This I say for your own benefit, not to put a restraint 

upon you, but to promote what is appropriate

and to secure undistracted devotion to the Lord" *

Later, Paul says that in his opinion, he thinks an unmarried woman is happier as she is.

Happier. As. She. Is. 

In the future, I hope to be able to read the the New testament with particularly the eyes of a single person, with this very joy in my mind, and seeing where that will take me. 

I am both intimidated and excited by this!

Are you a fan of lists? Me too. To Sum up:

1. I don't want to waste my singleness. I want to grab every single (bad pun intended) opportunity that is open to me, so that:

2. I can befriend others, share time with them, enrich their lives, consequentially, enriching mine.

3. I can be a holier person. 

Because I'm also a fan of complete openness and honesty, let me tell you, I'm not there yet. This is me on my way to becoming content with God's love alone. 

And I'm a firm believer in the fact that once I am actually content with Gods love, only then will I be ready for a companion on this earth.

Until then? I will find joy in my solitude. 

*wondering why I don't have Bible references? Its all in 1 Corinthians 7. Go read it.