Brown Boxes

I'm not really what you'd call a "stuff" person. I'm one of those people who does Spring Cleaning once in every season, because to me, getting rid of stuff is like getting rid of responsibility. I'm just not one to get attached to material things.


Our moving company is here packing us up today, and I am so glad I'm not the one doing it. I feel a lot more confident about everything getting to our new house in one piece, because they're probably being much more careful with things than I would be. But as little concern as I have about my stuff, I am finding the experience to be surprisingly emotional.


I feel like my entire life is being compressed into square brown boxes. It's certainly not that my life is defined by the things I own, but the stuff in those boxes helped create an environment where we've done so much more than just exist for the past 5 years - we've really LIVED. Our home has been a place of comfort and refuge not just for us, but also, I believe, for the couples who have belonged to our Home Group. We have laughed and cried with a lot of very special people in this living room, and seeing it all packed away makes me realize that an amazing chapter in my life has come to an end.


But, the good thing about coming to the end of one chapter is that you get to start another one. My stuff will soon come back out of those boxes, God will draw new friends close and old ones closer, and our new house will turn into a home.

Life Lessons from the Smurfs

Remember the Smurfs? Those little blue guys were a cultural phenomenon that helped bind my generation together. I think you would be hard pressed to find a person of my age whose childhood memories don’t involve watching the Smurfs on Saturday mornings.

One of the key Smurfs was named Jokey, and as the name suggests, he was constantly playing tricks on everyone. His favorite gag was to give the other Smurfs a “present,” which when opened would explode in their faces. The box was always the same – yellow with a big red ribbon.

As a child, I never understood why the Smurfs kept on accepting Jokey’s gifts. I mean come on – they ALWAYS exploded! Couldn’t the other Smurfs just learn their lesson and stop opening those things? But now as an adult I think maybe Jokey’s antics were the cartoon writers’ way of making a deeper statement.

How many people have you known who just keep going back to something that is harmful to them? I think about a girl I knew in high school who would sleep with a guy and feel horrible about herself afterwards. But then she’d go right back out and hook up with another guy, thinking it would somehow give her what she was looking on the next go-round. It invariably failed.

So why did my friend get caught in that loop, and why do we, even on a smaller day-to-day level, continue to do things that are bad for us? And more importantly, how do we get off the merry-go-round? I think Paul gives us the answer in Romans 7:18-25:

“I want to do what is right, but I can’t. I want to do what is good, but I don’t. I don’t want to do what is wrong, but I do it anyway…I have discovered this principle of life—that when I want to do what is right, I inevitably do what is wrong. I love God’s law with all my heart. But there is another power within me that is at war with my mind. This power makes me a slave to the sin that is still within me. Oh, what a miserable person I am! Who will free me from this life that is dominated by sin and death? Thank God! The answer is in Jesus Christ our Lord.”

My Story

Home Group has been pretty amazing lately. We’ve been doing a study called Contagious Christianity that helps you become open about your Faith and teaches you how to easily talk about God. Last week we learned how to tell our personal stories of how we came to Christ, and then we shared them with each other. But I was sick and didn’t get to go, so Ben said that the group was expecting me to share my story this Sunday. I thought I’d do one better and share it with the entire blogosphere:

At age 15, I started my sophomore year of high school fairly confident in my ability to manage my life. I had chosen a good group of friends, family relations were going smoothly, and it was easy for me to get good grades. I had finally even found myself a boyfriend, and with that checked off the list, I didn’t think there was anything else I really needed. I was in control, and things were going exactly according to plan.

However, around Christmas that year, my plan started falling apart. My grandmother got sick, and my mom temporarily moved to Alabama to take care of her. I stepped in to pick up some of the slack at home, especially looking out for my little brother. It was a stressful time for the entire family, and I couldn’t do anything to make it better.

With the added stress at home, my honors classes also became overwhelming. I had been managing to hang on, but no matter how hard I tried I just couldn’t get the grades I wanted.

To top it all off, one of my close friends decided I wasn’t a good person anymore. I have no idea what I did, and she wouldn’t tell me. But she started a smear campaign and tried to turn my other friends against me too. Then my boyfriend moved away, and it wasn’t long before he stopped calling. There was nothing I could do to hold on to either of them.

I ended that year feeling completely out of control, wondering how everything had so quickly slipped out of my grasp. I had no idea how to get back on track. Then out of the blue, my best friend Shannon called and asked if I would like to go on a Mission Trip with her church youth group to do Bible camps for kids. It wasn’t something I would typically do, but then again, my typical choices hadn’t been working out so well. So I figured I didn’t have anything to lose and signed on.

At the Bible camp, one of the kids took to me immediately. His parents were going through a nasty divorce, and he was very angry and bitter. He was desperate for comfort, and for some reason, he looked to me to provide it. I was totally overwhelmed - how could I help this kid, when I couldn’t even handle my own life? So I told him that God loved him, and I shared the Gospel with him as I understood it. And suddenly, for the first time, I knew it was all true.

I realized I needed to let God control my life, because He had a good plan for me. I was flooded with an immediate sense of peace like I had never felt before, and the rush of relief was incredible. From that moment, life was never the same again.

Now, even though I still like to be in control, it’s not such a driving need. I don't feel so much pressure about my decisions anymore because I have learned to trust God and allow Him to be my guide. These days, being out of control is a good thing!

So what’s your experience? I would love you to leave a comment and tell your story too. Maybe God has changed your life like He did mine, or maybe you’re one of the many seekers who visit this site and are still trying to figure it all out. Regardless of your situation, we all have something to learn from each other. If you’re not sure how to comment, it’s explained in this post. You can even be anonymous if you want. So take a chance and share!

A Burst Bubble

Sometimes I need what I call a “bubble day.” That’s when I convince myself that the world is a kind and friendly place, where everyone gets along and the biggest controversy is over what to have for dinner. I mentally create my own sterile environment, and I hang out in there and allow myself to recuperate from the world at large. I really could have used one of those days today, but life kept coming at my bubble with an ice pick.

It all started off with a new chapter in our disagreement with the guy next door over dog poop. This has been an ongoing saga, of which I’ll spare you the details. Let’s just say I’m having a hard time loving my neighbor.

After church, we went to Pet Smart to buy some dog food, and our credit card wouldn’t go through. After an excruciating conversation with the Citibank customer no-service department, we discover that they have decided, without consulting us, to upgrade our account and cancel our old cards. They sent us new ones, which we apparently threw out with the fifty million other credit card offers we get each day. It wouldn’t have been such a big deal, except that of course, this particular card was the one we were using to automatically pay all our other bills.

Believe it or not, at this point, I was still hopeful of having at least a bubble afternoon. However, we had one more errand to run, and as we turned onto the main road I realized that the world was just not going to cut me a break today.

The street, probably the busiest in our city, was lined down both sides for at least a quarter of a mile with people holding up signs that said, “Abortion Kills Children.” Yep, the girl who wanted to spend the day pretending that the world was conflict-free found herself in the middle of a giant abortion protest. Yippee.

So finally I gave up, turned my brain back on, and checked out the scene. Several things stood out.

First of all, there were quite a few young children holding signs, which I found to be extremely disturbing. A 7-year-old boy shouldn’t even understand sex, much less abortion. There’s no way those kids could understand what they were doing. What kind of parent makes their child participate in something like that?

Secondly, I couldn’t tell what organization was sponsoring the protest. I’m sure it was some sort of church, but there was no info about that on any of the signs. It seemed kind of cowardly to me to stage such a bold demonstration but not own up to it.

But mainly, I just hated how it made me feel. It all seemed so self-righteous, and I felt that even though I’m not an advocate of abortion they’d probably condemn me just as harshly, because I would never stand beside them on the side of the road denouncing it either. I felt like I was in the middle of a drive-by judging.

So were any abortions prevented by the corridor of shame? I highly doubt it. But I do think at least one woman recognized the error of her ways today. As we sat at an intersection, I smiled as one of the protestors glanced furtively at her fellow demonstrators, shuffled a few feet away from the rest of them, and slowly covered her face with her sign.

When Faith Gets Overwhelming

Sometimes I feel like this God thing is a bit much to handle.

Earlier this week I sort of got backed into a corner by people who wanted to convince me that God was a joke. I couldn’t refute their specific arguments, (maybe more Old Testament knowledge would have helped,) but what really shocked me was that even if their points were valid, I didn’t much care.

Christianity is one of the most real things I’ve ever experienced, but it’s also the most preposterous. It’s completely illogical, but somehow I know it’s right. There’s so much I don’t understand, yet I still have peace and confidence. Am I crazy, or is that just how God works?

I was feeling kind of down about the whole thing, until I came across Psalm 71:14-15 where David says,

"But as for me, I will always have hope. I will praise you more and more. My mouth will tell of your righteousness, your salvation all day long, though I know not its measure.”

I felt myself summed up in those verses. I really don’t know the true depth or measure of God’s character or His sacrifice, but that’s okay – I don’t have to understand everything. I still have hope and joy, and I keep on praising Him through any doubts that may arise. Maybe I am crazy, but I guess I’m in good company.

I would be very interested to hear how others handle it when Christianity gets overwhelming, and I would love to get a dialogue going. I know I can always use some support, and I bet I’m not the only one. Your comments are much appreciated!

Wrinkles

I always planned to “grow old gracefully.” Let the gray hair and wrinkles come as they may – I’d take it all in stride with good humor, and embrace whatever face looked back at me in the mirror. Aging wouldn’t even be an issue.

Well, a few months ago I noticed the tiniest beginnings of lines around my mouth. That discovery immediately led to a more critical facial inspection, which revealed slight traces of lines around my eyes too. You have to understand, no one else would probably be able to detect even the smallest change - we’re talking miniscule lines here. But as I stood there looking in the mirror and puzzling over how this could have happened, I was suddenly hit with a stunning revelation:

“HOLY CRAP! I am going to get WRINKLES!!!!”

Thoughts of growing old gracefully went out the window. I just wanted to go out and buy the best miracle cream I could find and take a bath in it. How could this be happening to me? I guess my philosophy was really more like, “If I grow old, I’ll do it gracefully.” I hadn’t accepted that the “if” was actually a “when.”

It didn’t take me long to calm down and return to rationality. But I was still a little bummed about the whole wrinkles thing, until this weekend.

I was watching a re-run of Extreme Makeover, where “ugly” people get major plastic surgery to correct what they consider to be their physical flaws. During her initial consultation, this woman told the plastic surgeon that she was looking forward to “never having wrinkles again.” However he was quick to correct her, explaining that wrinkles come from showing facial expression, and that they would eventually come back unless she never smiled or laughed again. That started me thinking.

My life has been filled with happiness. Yes, there have been plenty of sad and difficult times, but I have spent considerably more time laughing than crying. There’s not a day that goes by in which I don’t have multiple reasons to smile, and I am grateful for it. And if wrinkles are the price I pay, then so be it.

So I will go right on living, loving, laughing and smiling, allowing all the joys of life to be written across my face. And I hope that when I die, I’ll have too many wrinkles to count and will have earned every one of them.

Brevity

I'm a “get to the point” kind of person.

I try not to use a paragraph when a sentence will do, and I’ve never bought into the idea that the ability to pontificate on a given subject indicates intelligence. I often find myself wishing that people to whom I’m listening would stop beating around the bush and just say what they need to say.

This week I ran across a quote from Sophocles: “Much wisdom often goes with brevity of speech.” It brought to mind the political campaigning that’s already begun, and I had to laugh because if Sophocles is right, I’m not sure we have many wise candidates.

Anyway, Sophocles isn’t the only famous thinker who found less to be more where words are concerned. In Ecclesiastes 6:11, King Solomon said, “The more words, the less the meaning, and how does that profit anyone?” I get so frustrated when I have listened to someone talk for half an hour, and still have no idea what he or she actually said. Or worse, when the point is made in the first 5 minutes, but I have to keep sitting there as the person rambles on, rephrasing the message and adding trivial details. (Again, politics come to mind.)

Don’t get me wrong – if truly important or interesting information is being conveyed, I want every single detail. And I will talk for hours if the conversation is helping to build a relationship, encouraging someone, or developing knowledge or insight into my or someone else’s relationship with God. But otherwise, I’d just prefer to keep quiet.

Both Sophocles and King Solomon are renowned as two of the wisest men who ever lived. You know how I think they got that way? By taking their own advice and spending less time talking and more time listening and reflecting. They probably didn't talk much, but when they did, you can bet they really had something to say.

A Little Bit of Larceny

One of my most favorite movies of all time is White Christmas, a classic Bing Crosby musical based around Irving Berlin’s song of the same name. The premise is extremely cheesy and would never happen in the real world, but for some reason I am able to put my pragmatic nature aside and embrace the impossible when it is set to music.

Anyway, in the movie, Bob Wallace (Bing Crosby) and Betty Haynes (Rosemary Clooney) hook up and live happily ever after, though at first things don’t look promising. Betty has to admit to Bob that her sister wrote a dishonest letter to get him to come and see their musical act. Bob isn’t offended because he thinks people are always working an “angle,” but Betty accuses him of being cynical. Bob responds:

“Oh come, come now Miss Haynes. Surely you know that everybody’s got a little larceny operating in them.”

I think Bing Crosby really hit the nail on the head with that comment, and the Bible backs him up. As the Apostle Paul put it, “All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.” Romans 3:23

People will often do whatever it takes to make sure their interests are protected, even if it means hurting others – that’s just the way it is. We like to think we’re above that kind of thing, but if we’re honest, we know we have a tendency to put ourselves first. We know we hurt other people and disappoint our loved ones. And what’s worse, we know we disappoint God. But there is definitely hope.

Romans 8:39 says, “Do you think anyone is going to be able to drive a wedge between us and Christ's love for us? There is no way! Not trouble, not hard times, not hatred, not hunger, not homelessness, not bullying threats, not backstabbing, not even the worst sins listed in Scripture…I'm absolutely convinced that nothing—nothing living or dead, angelic or demonic, today or tomorrow, high or low, thinkable or unthinkable—absolutely nothing can get between us and God's love because of the way that Jesus our Master has embraced us.”

So whether it’s a little bit of internal larceny you’re dealing with or a lot, don’t worry – God loves you no matter what!

Yes, Be Yourself. BUT...

Earlier this week I was talking to someone whose church is having trouble getting people to sign up for a mission trip because they don’t want to be around a particular woman that’s going. She was described as one of God’s most annoying creations – a complainer who needs constant attention and thinks everything should revolve around her. I definitely know the type.

Hearing this story got me thinking about my last post where I encouraged people to be themselves. But then I thought, “What if yourself sucks?”

At age 16 when I first became a Christian, (on a mission trip I might add,) I sat down and made a list of all the things I didn’t like about myself that I didn’t think God liked either. I don’t have the original, but I’ll hit the highlights.

First off, I decided I didn’t want to worry about things all the time and that I wanted to give up my need for absolute control. A task like packing for a trip could send me into a panic because I was so scared that I wouldn’t be prepared for every situation that might arise. And I remember one particular incident in middle school where I went nuts on my friend because she dropped a raisin in my tea. I’m not kidding – something so stupid made me completely lose it. I decided I’d like myself a lot better if I figured out how to relax.

Secondly, I wanted to stop being an exaggerator. You have probably met someone who does this - for example, if I got something on sale for 20% off it would turn into 30% when I told someone about it. Though I wasn’t really hurting anyone, it was technically a form of lying. I wanted to be a more credible person.

Finally, I decided I wanted to be a better listener. I knew I cared deeply about my friends and family, but I realized I didn’t show it very well. When someone was sharing with me, I was too quick to relate what he/she was saying to myself and turn the conversation back to me. I wanted to be more externally focused.

I became very conscious of those behaviors and prayed constantly that God would help me change them. And one day, I looked back and realized He had. Not that I don’t revert back to old ways every now and then, but I’d be willing to bet that some of you who know me now would never have guessed that I used to be a self-absorbed, anal-retentive control freak. (And if you could have guessed it, please let me know so I can get back to work on it.)

Anyway, when I really thought about my own personal experience, I realized that long before I ever had the confidence to be myself, I had to sit down and decide who I really wanted to be. I believe there are certain core tenants of your personality you can’t change, but I KNOW that through Christ you can control how those tendencies are displayed in your life.

So, if you have a sneaking suspicion that you’re not exactly the best you can be, (like if you show up for the Mission Trip and you’re the only one on the bus,) maybe some tweaking is in order before you go out unabashedly being yourself. But don’t worry – “…I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns.” (Phi 1:6)

How Good is TOO Good?

Ecclesiastes is one of my favorite books of the Bible, and it always gets me thinking every time I read it. Here’s what’s sticking with me this time:

“Do not be overrighteous, neither be overwise – why destroy yourself? Do not be overwicked, and do not be a fool – why die before your time? It is good to grasp the one and not let go of the other. The man who fears God will avoid all extremes.” Ecc. 7:16-18.

Any good Christian will tell you that being overly wicked and foolish will lead to destruction, but how many would tell you that being too righteous would cause the same thing? I never really thought about it much either, but I can see how it’s true.

Being “overrighteous” quickly turns into being self-righteous – which leads to being judgemental, close-minded, and eventually hypocritical. Over time, the message of Christ is perverted and people are driven away from Him instead of toward Him. If there’s anything that will destroy Christianity, it will be Christians themselves.

This verse kind of takes some of the pressure off of trying to be that perfect Christian who never struggles with temptation and never breaks the rules. A Christian life is not about being extremely good or moral; it’s about finding a balance and living a REAL, genuine life with God. And I don’t care who you are – if you’re being real, you’re not being perfect!

Who Cares?

There are a couple of blogs I read regularly, and recently one of them reminded me of a question someone asked me a few years ago:

“What if you live your whole life as a Christian, and then when you die you find out that it’s all a lie, and there is no God?”

It’s definitely an interesting scenario to ponder.

If there’s no God, then my soul dies with my body. So it’s not like there will be some part of me that is able to look back on my life after I’m gone and feel embarrassed for getting duped. And I won’t be able to be disappointed about not going to Heaven either, since I won’t be cognizant of anything past my last breath. If there is no God, I’ll never even know it.

The question basically comes down to whether or not my life would have been better if I had not been a Christian. Did my commitment to God hinder my existence or cause me to miss out on anything?

Unimaginable. I have lived both with God and without Him, and there is nothing in this world that could make me go back. My life has been amazingly rich and fulfilling, and I don’t think there’s anything else that could have provided the joy and peace I have found in Christ. You can question Christianity all you want, but my personal experience is mine, and it’s not up for debate. If I have put my faith in something that doesn’t exist, I certainly have been rewarded for it, and I have no regrets.

So back to the original question – what if God turns out to be a sham? My answer was and is, “WHO CARES?”

Pomp and Circumstance

This past Sunday was Graduate Recognition Day at my church. In typical fashion, the Class of 2007 filed across the stage to receive a gift from the Youth Pastor, while a person off-stage listed the grad’s achievements and future plans.

As I listened to all the big hopes and dreams, I couldn’t help but remember myself at that age. So excited to leave high school behind and head off for the big world of college, and convinced I’d never go home ever again. I was majoring in Sociology, planning to become a Social Worker and change the world by making a difference in the lives of others and helping those who couldn’t help themselves.

Except for the vow never to go home again, my husband had some different ideas. He had decided that he was going to graduate with a 4.0 in Chemical Engineering and go to work at a specific company, where he would work his way up the ladder to eventually become the VP of Research and Development. He was going to get married, have 2.5 kids, and live the whole American Dream.

As you might have guessed, things didn’t turn out like either of us would have planned. My husband did become a Chemical Engineer, but only for a little while, as God called him to become a teacher. The corporate world turned out to be more my speed, and I was the one who ended up on the fast track while my husband gave up money and prestige for the chance to invest in others. A businesswoman with a Sociology degree, and a Chemistry teacher with a Master’s degree in Engineering – makes no sense whatsoever, but that’s God for you.

I think that sometimes God just gives us the “what,” and we assign our own “why.” We get on His path, but then we make assumptions about where it will end up. And if we become too focused on those assumptions, before we know it, we have missed the fork in road we were supposed to take, and we end up driving away from Him despite all our good intentions to follow Him.

Psalm 37:4 says, “Delight yourself in the Lord and He will grant you the desires of your heart.” Even if you don’t really know what those desires are yet, and even if they seem impossible, the real way to make your dreams come true is to live a joyful life, knowing that God is in control.

Lately I have been guilty of trying to out-plan God. I can’t see what’s around the next bend, and it’s been driving me crazy. I want to make a PLAN, but really everything is already laid out for me if I just wait for it. I need to delight myself in all the joys of God that are in the here and now, and let the future take care of itself.
So congratulations to all the 2007 Grads. May God always keep you guessing, and may you love every minute of it.

Paint Me A Masterpiece

from the book Orbiting the Giant Hairball by Gordon MacKenzie

In your mind, conjure an image of the Mona Lisa. Visualize that masterpiece's subtleties of hue and tone as clearly as you can.

Next, shift to the image of a paint-by-numbers Mona Lisa. Envision the flat, raw colors meeting hard-edged, one against the other.

Now, let me relate a fantasy about masterpieces, paint by numbers and you. It goes like this:

Before you were born God came to you and said:

Hi there! I just dropped by to wish you luck. And to assure you that you and I will be meeting again soon. Before you know it.

You're heading out on an adventure that will be filled with fascinating experiences. You'll start out as a tiny speck floating in an infinite, dark ocean, quite saturated with nutrients. So you won't have to go looking for food or a job or anything like that. All you'll have to do is float in the darkness.

And grow incredibly. And change miraculously.

You'll sprout arms and legs. And hands and feet. And fingers and toes. As if from nothing, your head will take form. Your nose, your mouth, your eyes and ears will emerge.

As you continue to grow bigger and bigger, you will become aware that this dark oceanic environment of yours--which, when you were tiny, seemed so vast--is now actually cramped and confining. That will lead you to the unavoidable conclusion that you're going to have to move to a bigger place.

After much groping about in the dark, you will find an exit. The mouth of a tunnel. "Too small," you'll decide. "Couldn't possible squeeze through there." But there will be no other apparent way out. So, with primal spunk, you will take on your first "impossible" challenge and enter the tunnel.

In doing so, you will be embarking on a brutal, no-turning-back, physically exhausting, claustrophobic passage that will introduce you to pain and fear and hard physical labor. It will seem to take forever. But mysterious undulations of the tunnel itself will help squirm you through. And, finally, after what will seem like interminable striving, you will break through to a blinding light.

Giant hands will pull you gently, but firmly, into an enormous room. There will be several huge people, called adults, huddling around you, as if to greet you. If it is an old fashioned place, one of these humongous people may hold you upside down by the legs and give you a swat on the backside to get you going. All of this will be what the big people on the otherside call being born. For you, it will be only the first of your new life's many exploits.

God continues: I was wondering, while you're over there on the other side, would you do me a favor? "Sure," you chirp.

Would you take this artist's canvas with you and paint a masterpiece for me? I'd really appreciate that. Beaming, God hands you a pristine canvas. You roll it up, tuck it under your arm and head off on your journey.

Your birth is just as God had predicted, and when you come out of the tunnel into the bright room, some doctor or nurse looks down at you in amazement and gasps: "Look! The little kid's carrying a rolled up artist's canvas!" Knowing that you do not yet have the skills to do anything meaningful with your canvas, the big people take it away from you and give it to society for safekeeping until you have acquired the prescribed skills requisite to the canvas's return.

While society is holding this property of yours, it cannot resist the temptation to unroll the canvas and draw pale blue lines and little blue numbers all over it's virgin surface.

Eventually, the canvas is returned to you, it's rightful owner. However, it now carries the implied message that if you will paint inside the blue lines and follow the instructions of the little blue numbers your life will be a masterpiece. And that is a lie.

For more than 50 years I worked on my paint-by-numbers creation. With uneven, but persistent diligence, I dipped an emaciated paint-by-numbers brush into color no. 1 and painstakingly painted inside each little blue-bordered area marked 1. Then on to 2 and 3 and 4 and so on.

Sometimes, during restive periods of my life, I would paint, say the 12 spaces before the 10 spaces (a token rebellion against overdoses of linearity). More than once, I painted beyond a line and, feeling embarrassed, would try to wipe off the errant color or cover it with another before anyone might notice my lack of perfection.

From time to time, though not often, someone would complement me, unconvincingly, on the progress of my "masterpiece." I would gaze at the richness of others' canvases. Doubt about my own talent for painting gnawed at me. Still, I continued to fill in the little numbered spaces, unaware of, or afraid to look at, any real alternative.

Then there came a time, after half a century of daubing more or less inside the lines, that my days were visited by traumatic events. The dividends of my noxious past came home to roost, and the myth of my life began horrifically to come unglued. I pulled back from my masterpiece-in-the-works and saw it with emerging clarity.

It looked awful. The stifled strokes of paint had nothing to do with me. They did not illustrate who I am or speak of who I could become. I felt duped, cheated, ashamed--anguished that I had wasted so much canvas, so much paint. I was angry that I had been conned into doing so. But that is the past. Passed.

Today, I wield a wider brush--pure ox hide bristle. And I'm swooping it through the sensuous goo of Cadminium yellow, Alzarian Crimson or Ultramarine Blue (not nos. 4, 13 or 8) to create the biggest, brightest, funniest, fiercest damn dragon that I can. Because that has more to do with what's inside me than some prescribed plagiarisms of somebody else's tour de force.

You have a masterpiece inside you too, you know. One unlike any that has ever been created, or ever will be. And remember: If you go to your grave without painting your masterpiece, it will not get painted. No one else can paint it. Only you.

Plenty of Selfishness to Go Around

At this point in life, God has still not revealed to me if children are in my future. As I get closer to the big 3–0, this lack of direction has become increasingly troubling for me. I find myself questioning whether it's really that God hasn’t told me to have kids, or if He has, but I don't want to listen to Him because I don’t want to give anything up.

I’ll be the first to admit that my reasons for being unenthusiastic about having children are mostly selfish. I enjoy my freedom and my discretionary income, and I’m not too excited about the bodily wear and tear that results from childbirth. I enjoy being able to invest in my friends and in my church without having to think of a child first. And I have an amazing relationship with my spouse that I don’t want to be changed by anything. I love my life just the way it is.

My husband and I were talking about this issue yesterday, and we realized we were taking for granted that having a child is a selfless thing to do. We started discussing the reasons why people have kids, and decided that selfish motives aren’t exclusive to the childfree.

If you really get down to it, the main reasons people choose to have kids seem to involve PERSONAL fulfillment! Some people want something to love that will unconditionally love them back. Others dream of reliving the joy of their own childhoods, and getting it right where their parents erred. Sadly many people have children in an attempt to fix a failing marriage, which of course never works. But in any case, even though parents certainly make sacrifices to raise their children, they do so in hopes of achieving some sort of greater reward for themselves.

Awhile back, I asked my Dad why he decided to have kids, and he answered by simply saying, “Because I wanted to be a father.” No further explanation, no stupid justifications about contributing to society or leaving a legacy for future generations. He had children because he knew that’s what would make him happy. I wish more people would be that honest.

People who have children aren’t any more special than those who don’t. They’re not on some noble mission, and they’re not martyrs. They’re not more mature or unselfish, and I shouldn’t feel inferior because I haven’t made the same life decisions as them. They have kids, and that makes them happy. I don’t have kids, and I’m very happy too. Simple as that.

I am not a bad person for enjoying my life as it is. I am not any more or less selfish than anyone else in this world, and I shouldn’t have to apologize for my choices just because they differ from the majority. I need to stop doubting myself and just listen to what God is telling me. I guess it’s pretty dumb to doubt that I’m really listening to God, just because I actually like what He’s saying!