What One Word Can Say

“The difference between the almost right word and the right word is really a large matter- it’s the difference between the lightning bug and the lightning.”

Those who write attempt to say what many others cannot. They strive to portray thoughts and feelings for which many others have no words, oftentimes spending days searching for the right ones themselves. I delight in this complexity of writing. Languages fascinate me, and I am enthralled by the intricacies of words; how the absence, addition, or alteration of a single word can bring an entirely different meaning to a sentence.

There is a vast difference between a statement that reads, “I like painted art,” and another that states, “Painted art transfixes me.” Is there not?

Sentences with power and unique meaning are compiled of elaborately placed and chosen words, and the results can be astonishing.

This all came about as I was listening to a song just a few days ago. It was a worship song with which I am highly familiar (as it is one of my favorites), and though I have sung the lyrics numerous times before, I was this time struck by the significance of a single word.  

The lyrics sang, “Tuya soy. Tuya soy. Cristo, tuya soy.” I am yours. I am yours. Jesus, I am yours.  

The word that so struck me was “soy.” I am.

Why is this significant? Because in the Spanish language there are two ways of discussing who or what you are. To say, “I am,” you can say “estoy” or “soy,” and they both mean something separate. The lyrics would have translated the same had they been, “Tuya estoy. Tuya estoy. Cristo, tuya estoy,” but the meaning would have been changed.

The differences between soy and estoy are large in number, though in this context they can be simplified. Estoy is used more commonly with temporary feelings, ailments, or locations. Things such as, “I am sick,” or, “I am hungry,” or, “I am at work,” can be expressed by using estoy. These are temporary states that do not remain unchanged; such does not describe your life on a daily basis.  

However, soy is used more commonly to define the characteristics of a person. One can convey more concrete facts such as, “I am a woman,” or, “I am left-handed.” These are solidified identities about the person you are; pieces of yourself that will not change ten days nor ten years from now.

All of this to say that there is greater meaning when professing to Jesus, “Tuya soy.” It does not mean, “I am yours today, but we've still to see about tomorrow.” Not, “I am yours now, but there is a possibility that could change.” Nor does it say, “I am yours until x,y, or z happens, and then you can forget about it.”

Tuya soy means that you are His forever, and being His is a characteristic of who you are. It is not a job you work part-time or something you decide to be when convenient. It’s not a title you claim on good days and cast aside on the bad ones. Nor should it ever be any of these.

Being a disciple and servant of Jesus should be a characteristic as staple and permanent as, “I am Mary.”

After inspired by the song, I wrote this in my journal the other day:

“It’s unbelievable to me how simple it is, but that song says it so perfectly. Have I made being a servant to Jesus a characteristic of who I am? I've decided that being discipled by God and in service to Jesus needs to be my life, and all else more like a part-time job.”

Committing your life to God should be the most prominent and influential commitment in your life. It should be a promise that is given as much (if not more) time, energy, and effort as any school degree, career opportunity, or goal for which you strive. It should be so deeply written on your heart that it becomes an innate part of who you are.

For if it is all this, you can truly profess to Jesus that you are his- in the forever way.

My salvation and my honor depend on God; he is my mighty rock, my refuge. Trust in him at all times, you people; pour out your hearts to him, for God is our refuge. -Psalm 62:7-8

Question of the Day

When you have an addiction, it changes your entire life. It consumes your thoughts and time; it influences your actions and goals. It can monopolize you from the moment you wake up until the moment you go to sleep. If you've ever had an addiction, you know what I mean.

I am sad to say that I'm addicted to food and depriving myself of it. I am addicted to surface-level “beauty” and physical appearance. I am addicted to the feeling I get when I think I am skinny, somehow believing it makes me more important, valuable, and beautiful.

These addictions never fail to greet me each morning. When I wake up, I am bombarded by thoughts of food, exercise, and societal standards of appearance. Every morning I wake up and ask myself, “What can I do today to lose weight?”

It doesn't take long after my alarm for me to begin strategizing about my schedule for the day. I plan what I will eat and when I will work it off.

Do I have time to do a workout today?

Is the amount of exercise I have time for sufficient for what I plan to eat?

Should I wear baggy clothes today to hide myself?

Will I be in a situation today wherein I am forced to eat?

Can I avoid that situation?

All of this happens before I even get out of bed, and each morning I spend the time and energy to plan my day and feed my addiction.

Here’s my question: What would my life be like if I woke up every morning and asked myself, “What can I do to become closer to God today?”

If I woke up every morning and asked myself how I could strengthen my faith that day, would I lie in bed and strategize the way I do about my addiction? Would I plan it all out? Would I scheme for the good of my God and persistently squeeze it into my schedule at all costs?

What would my life look like if I did?

I imagine all of the hours spent each day mentally and physically giving in to my addiction; time spent researching food or forcing exercise upon myself. Moments spent verbally assaulting my body in front of the mirror or sobbing in the corner because I've bought in to all the lies.  

If I used that time each day for Jesus- to grow in my faith, further God’s kingdom, and love others well- I firmly believe my life would be drastically different. A deep faith could replace a deep addiction. Love based on one condition could transform to a love based on no condition. A plan to change my body could become a plan to change the world.

I may be alone in the cycle of daily interrogation and manipulation where my addiction is concerned, but I don’t think that I am. I think there are many people who imprison themselves behind such questions every day; people who wake up and almost immediately find themselves thrown into battle with their addictions and vices.

The great thing about this is that I am the one asking the questions and making the plans- that means that I can change them. Rather than allowing my addiction to starve me, I can decide to starve my addiction. I can ignore its inquiries and disregard its schemes. I can wake up tomorrow and ask myself, “What can I do today to strengthen my faith?” and I can watch my addiction die as I refuse to feed into it any more.

This afternoon I sat contemplating my meals and exercise regimen for the rest of the day, and I couldn't escape the feeling of God’s question on my heart.

“What do you think your life would be like if you took all this time you were spending on your disorder and spent it with Me?”

Though specifics are yet to be determined, I've got some ideas of how that question could be answered. Best of all, in that I've found another question; one that I will begin asking myself each morning.

“What can I do today to become more like Jesus?”

I’m very certain such a question every day will beautifully change my life. Call me crazy, but living each day for Jesus sounds so much better than living each day for an addiction. 

Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God. -Colossians 3:1-3

Searching for Happiness

People say that happiness is a way of life and not a destination, but for me it always has been. A destination, that is.

It’s never been a destination in the way that I’d think, “I want to find happiness someday,” or, “I want to go to happiness sometime.” Instead, my heart for traveling had found happiness in its most previous excursion.  

My family took a number of vacations when I was younger, so I've been traveling to different places for as long as I can remember. I never appreciated it much as a child, but my love for it grew as I did.

Each place spoke differently, but something about them spoke deeply to my heart. I learned that I love new places. I love experiencing different people and different cultures. I constantly reminisce about the places that I've been and I dream each day about the places where I plan to go next.

My destinations were my happiness; my happiness a destination.

Don’t get me wrong: traveling has certainly never been my entire life, but lately it’s been competing closely with other passions to become the most prominent.

Unfortunately for me this meant that when my dreams to travel seemed to fall apart, my happiness did so, too.

It all started when my dream to study abroad in Spain died. I had wanted for years to spend a summer in Europe learning of and experiencing the cultures and people in Spain. However, different plans came together, my life took unexpected turns, and my dream was put on the back-burner. At first I believed that I was only postponing the trip for the future, but I continually become less and less hopeful of that each day.

This experience of seemingly losing my dream created in me an irrational fear that none of my desires to travel would ever come to fruition. This then resulted in an incredible urge to “get up and go” before another opportunity passed by me. Nothing else seemed to matter as much, and every morning was only one more closer to the morning when I would leave. 

This dream quickly began to consume me. It became a dream fueled by fear instead of by passion, but I was far too engrossed by it all to notice.    

I started to pray about it numerous times each day because I was distraught about what to do and when to do it, but I wasn't really searching for answers. Being honest with myself (and with you), I wasn't looking for God’s guidance or his peace about the situation. I was only looking for a way to get what I wanted. 

My prayers didn't come from a scared child seeking comfort in the arms of her refuge. They didn't come from a confused daughter asking for peace enough to trust her Savior through it all. No, the prayers came from a selfish child asking God to do what she wanted so that she would be happy.

I had made happiness to be a destination, forgetting where it is truly found: in God.

I had allowed the things of this world to steal away my heart, and I was trying to find my happiness there. I believed that pursuing and accomplishing my dreams would satisfy my heart; but I couldn't have been more wrong.

God gives us dreams. He gives us our passions and desires. Dreaming and having goals isn't wrong. We find ourselves stumbling not when we dream, but when we make those dreams the sources of our joy.

I'm not saying don't dream. I'm saying don't let your dreams control your delight in life.

The moment we make someone or something other than God the direct source of our happiness, we will find ourselves let down, disappointed, and left wanting.

Nothing in my life deserves to be the foundation of my happiness, and none else can wholly captivate me like God. No relationship, destination, career, vacation, or success will ever bring me the joy found in Jesus. I do experience God’s love and joy through these things, but it should never be solely through them.

I firmly believe God wants me to enjoy life; he has given me a number of blessings to prove this to be true. However, I also firmly believe that he wants me to enjoy him, first and foremost. When I allow God to be the source of my joy, I have the freedom to experience happiness in other aspects of my life, without letting them define it.  

My happiness should be dependent on God, not on my circumstances. And when my circumstances don’t define my happiness, I find it a lot easier to enjoy all of them.

Psalm 37:4 – Take delight in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart. 

A Letter to my Body

This entry is inspired by and dedicated to the current National Eating Disorder Awareness Week.  

Dear friend,

Oh how I don’t even deserve to call you that.

I have betrayed you. I have betrayed you in the worst possible way, and I am ashamed.

I can’t even imagine what you must think of me, but I wouldn't blame you for any of it. I have treated you terribly despite your constant loyalty to me. I know that I have a lot of ground to cover if I am ever to make this right again, and I understand that I can’t undo any of the horrible things that I did to you.

For that, I am so so sorry.

I've never treated you as a friend. I have never treated you as though you were worthy of love, attention, care, or admiration. Rather, I have believed and acted upon the lie that you are worthless and you are wrong; that you are a source of shame.

I have spoken to you so harshly; thrown at you demeaning daggers of lies. I've looked right at you and told you how disappointed and disgusted I was with you. There were times I couldn't even bring myself to look at you.

I was so shallow and hurtful. 

I let other people talk so cruelly about you. I let them tease you and call you terrible names. I sat silently by as they slandered you and told me how worthless and ugly you were. I never defended you, and instead I accepted all of the criticism as true.

I was so embarrassed by you. I hated the way you looked and I hid you away from the world hoping no one would notice your flaws.

I wrongly blamed you for much of my pain, believing that you were the source of my problems. I convinced myself that it was your fault I had been so hurt, and I never hesitated to tell you so.

I was so heartless and misguided.

I have always been unfaithful to you. Regardless of how much you ever did for me, I was never happy enough with you. I've always wanted something else, something more, something different. You've never been good enough for me, though you've always been far more than I deserved.

I even tried to make you something different, instead of taking joy in what you already were. I tried to destroy your uniqueness instead of celebrate it. I tried to change you, and I yelled at you in anger because you weren't different, continually asking you why you couldn't be more like “that.”

I have deprived you of so much, and I have selfishly acted in ways that have jeopardized your health and strength. I have taken away your most basic needs and used them as a reward if you performed well. (Oftentimes I wouldn't even give them to you if you had). I punished you for desiring what feeds you your next breath, and I tried to train you to no longer crave those things, hurling insults at you when you did.

I have unrealistically expected so much from you, even in times of sickness, malnourishment, or injury. In moments wherein I should have been taking care of you, I didn't love you enough to allow you rest. Instead I called you weak and worthless for hurting, and I wanted nothing to do with you.

I hated you. I hurt you. I belittled you.

It hurts my heart just to think of how lowly I treated you, and I am ashamed of my actions. I would never allow someone I love to be treated in such a way, and yet I saw no fault in doing it to you.

I have been horribly wretched to you.

My dear friend, you were never wrong; I was.

I can never make up for the years of hurt and damage between us, but I can assure you our future together will be different.

I want to celebrate you. I want to praise you for the number of amazing things you do daily. I don’t thank you enough for your loyalty, nor do I commend you enough for your strength. You are an amazing creation, and I am astounded by your brilliance.

I want to tell you that you are beautiful, so beautiful, and that I am in awe of you. You are perfect as is, and I want to take delight in every imperfection. I am forever sorry that I tried to take away from you your uniqueness, not recognizing that it is what makes you who you are.  

I want to love you, and I want to love you well. I want to treat you as the special, radiant being that you are. I want to take care of you and respect what you need. 

You are wonderful. You are magnificent. You are stunning.

I am going to prove to you that things will be different now, though before I was blind to my faults and your beauty. I will strive to renew our relationship as it should have been from the beginning, and I will not allow anything to come between us.

I love you, I do.

Thank you for always being my faithful friend. Now, I vow to be yours.

Love, Mary. 

Oh God, How I Need You

I've been coming to realize lately how often and how desperately I need God.

I used to think I just needed him for the big, life-changing stuff. You know, the, "God please help me arrive home safely, pass this exam, get this job," stuff. The addictions. The disorders. The BIG stuff. Recently, I’ve learned that I desperately need him in even the small, daily stuff (which actually turns out to be the big stuff).

A few weeks ago I heard a pastor say in reference to grace, “You can’t accept something if you don’t know you need it. This is why God reveals our sin.” In the same way, one won’t depend on God if they don’t think they need to, and this is why he reveals our weaknesses.

When God reveals our weaknesses, he illustrates to us our deep need for him.  

Back in February, I went on a week-long trip with my church. The purpose of the trip was to grow in Christ, but throughout the trip I was miserable. I felt nothing other than broken. Each day, more of my imperfections and scars were revealed in my life and I felt far beyond repairable. It was too much too quickly, and I didn’t know how to handle each new aspect of damage I was finding in my life.  

What I hadn’t yet realized was that God was opening my eyes for my benefit. He wasn’t pointing it out to hurt, shame, or overwhelm me. God wanted to heal me, to begin repairing my heart, and he could only do so once I opened my heart to him. If I didn’t think I had a need to be healed, I wouldn’t turn to God for healing.

Though unintentional, I was quite overwhelmed by it all, but I learned through it the freedom that comes in fully depending on God in everything. 

I’m learning now that I need God in every aspect of my life, and I need him desperately. I feel that each day I reach a new mountain, whether it be new obstacles of pain, confusion, anger, hurt, etc., and I find myself each time saying, "I have no idea how I could do this without God." 

Jesus says, “Apart from me you can do nothing,” which is absolutely true, but I feel as there is so much more. It’s not just doing that we need God for. While there is nothing that I can do apart from God, there is also nothing I can be. No redemption I can bring. No healing I can find. No comfort I can give. No wisdom I can speak. No words I can write. No love I can display. No strength I can assert.

I need God for everything.

I need him every minute of every day in every situation, and I continually see that holding true in each aspect of my life, that I couldn't do it without God. I see it in my relationship. I see it in my goals. I see it in my friends and family. I see it in my words, my heart, my thoughts, my dreams.

I need God daily for strength. I need him daily for my identity. I need him daily for healing, comfort, peace, encouragement, love, wisdom, hope, purpose, direction, and grace. I need him for breath and for life.

I need God in every moment because I am broken, because I have a damaged heart. I am an imperfect being who lacks fullness on my own. But in God I am made complete, I am given renewed strength, and through him my world comes beautifully to life. 

Remain in me, as I also remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. John 15:4-5

For in Christ all the fullness of the Deity lives in bodily form, and in Christ you have been brought to fullness. Colossians 2:9-10. 

My Anniversary

Anniversaries are pretty neat, in my opinion. It’s a day to celebrate a past event; an event that was wonderfully life-changing. Sometimes anniversaries are for a romantic relationship. Sometimes an anniversary is for the date you last indulged into a guilty pleasure. Sometimes an anniversary is to celebrate a new life.

My most recent anniversary is a sort of mixture of all these.

This week is my anniversary to remember when I actually starting walking and living my life with my God, and it is my week to celebrate the beautiful walk it has been.

Although my actual birthday (November 27, 2004 was when I invited Jesus into my heart) was years ago, I didn’t actually learn how to “walk” until this past year. What I mean by that is this: though I had accepted Jesus as my Savior, I didn’t know him. Not really. I didn’t know exactly what being a Christian meant. I wasn’t able to walk just yet, but eventually I did start crawling.

Last year, I crawled through the basics of who God is and how he loves me, and it was enough to bring me to my feet and help me walk.

By September, I was jumping. Looking back, each was a blind and irrational leap of faith, but I took them, and that’s part of what makes this anniversary so amazing. It’s incredible how quickly my newfound faith and relationship caused me to change my life so drastically (well, caused me to allow God to change my life, actually). 

Before I knew it, my heart was being transformed, my community was being built, and my world was being turned upside down. It was all great things, which made it exciting, but so much change was still quite scary. I can confidently say that this past year produced the most amount of change in my life in such a short time. 

And this was a spiritual change. A heart change. THAT kind of life change. 

It was totally awesome, and totally epic. 

God changed my life a lot, in ways that I will be forever grateful for, but he also taught me a lot. This past year was full of transformation, but it was also full of learning. God has taught me a lot of things, though some I am still trying to fully grasp.

God has taught me about the beauty of vulnerability and community; that being alone and declaring strict independence is not going to protect my heart from future hurt. That little can compare to the freedom felt when you can openly share your heart with someone.

God has taught me about love and trust; that they are real and they are meant to be shared. That love is worth the bumps and bruises it may deliver, and it will always triumph and prevail.

God has taught me about my heart and who I am (though this is one that I still struggle to understand and know). That in him I am complete and holy, and I am designed exactly as he desired I be.

Above all, my favorite lesson so far has been about God himself. God taught me about who he is.

God taught me of his character and his love, of his power and strength, of his hope and comfort. He taught me about who he is, who he actually is.

God taught me that his character can be shown through the beautiful people in my life, but that it is so much more than what people in my life can portray.

I’ve learned that any human greatness is only a taste of how great God is, that God is so much more than what we are at our very best.

“For the foolishness of God is wiser than man’s wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than man’s strength.” 1 Cor 1:25.

God then taught me that if our greatness can’t compare to him, then surely our evil is even further from his character. 

God taught me that not all flaws in humanity are a reflection of who he is. That hurt I have experienced had wrongfully shaped what I thought of him. That he is so much greater than worldly imperfections.

God helped me to see his face and know his heart through the truth of his words. He helped me to disassociate from him the brokenness and evil I saw in man.

God helped me to see him as one I could have a relationship with, rather than just a distant and emotionally detached being. That he isn't just an authority, but that he is a friend, a partner, a companion.

God helped me to see him.

(I also learned that he loves running too, and he never turns me down when I ask him to come with me). 

My life and my heart have changed tremendously this year, and it's been awesome. I've grown into a beautiful community of believers, and I've found love, hope, and purpose. But the best part of this year? I now know my Savior. I know deeper the heart of my protector, my leader, my teacher, my comforter, my provider, my father, my creator, my deliverer, my stronghold, my truth and my light. 

And in all these, I have found my best friend. And now, I can’t imagine living my life without him; I don’t know how I ever did.

So this week is my week to celebrate; to celebrate a new life in Jesus, and a new companion in God. It is a week to celebrate the strength in letting go of an old life, but the beauty of creating a new one. It is a week to celebrate an incredible walk with an amazing friend; a glorious journey that has just only begun. 

My Body's Beauty

“I don’t like the way I look,” says 97 percent of the female population.

I know this feeling all too well, and I know I’m not alone. I have struggled with body image issues for years, and in those years I have realized that most other women do, too. I have spent the last two years ensnared and trapped by these struggles, and the last six months trying to fight them off.

Let me tell you, it is no easy task trying to fight against something that is so deeply ingrained, something so seemingly normal, something so constantly occurring in your heart.

It had become abnormal for me to look into the mirror and not be disappointed or disgusted by what I saw. This was wrong, but this was my heart.

I think of the scene in ‘Mean Girls’ as they stand in front of the mirror criticizing different parts of their bodies. Cady thinks, “I used to think there was just skinny and fat. I had no idea so many different things could be wrong with your body.” It’s a movie, yes, but it is so close to reality.

You could pinpoint any spot on a woman’s body, and chances are she could tell you a number of ways in which its imperfections keep her from being beautiful. 

My nose just isn’t right; it’s too big on my face. My hips are too wide. My legs aren’t curvy enough. My shoulders are too broad. My eyebrows are so flawed. My eyes are too far apart. My stomach is too flabby. My butt is too flat. My feet are ugly. My ears are humongous. My (fingernails, toes, lips, eyelashes, hair, teeth, dimples, chest, fill in the blank) is wrong; it’s all just ugly and wrong.

I was at this point when God invited me on a trip; the trip to discover truth about the beauty that my body possesses. This journey consisted of three main stops: learning the truth, believing the truth, and allowing this truth to be enough.

For me, learning and believing seemed impossible. I was convinced that they had to be done together, while also thinking that the learning had to precede the believing. Have you ever tried to learn about something that you absolutely don’t believe? It’s hard! If you’re skeptical the whole time, how much will you really intake and digest what you are trying to learn? This was me, and I felt no hope that I would ever be able to learn or believe.

Part of the problem is that I was spending too much time telling myself what I wasn’t, instead of telling myself what I was.

The other day as I was looking at myself (and by looking I mean criticizing) in the mirror, God stopped me where I was. He grabbed my attention and said,

“When you use your eyes to see instead of critique, the world becomes a more beautiful place. Your body becomes the beautiful masterpiece it was created to be; a piece of my artwork to be admired, not criticized. Use your eyes to see.”

I was spending my time focused on the society-based imperfections of my body instead of the beautiful creation that it was.

I saw in my stomach weight that I wanted to lose, instead of the miraculous power it had of creating a beautiful baby someday.

I saw in my shoulders a lack of slenderness, instead of the strength they had in helping to carry other’s burdens.

I saw in my legs constant disappointment, instead of the healthy and trustworthy partners I had that allowed me to enjoy running as I do.

I couldn't look beyond my self-diagnosed imperfections to see that my body is amazing.

It was incredible for me to look in the mirror and see something beautiful instead of something I wanted to change. Unfortunately, this was quickly suffocated away by critical thoughts of my body. Though I was learning and beginning to believe this truth, I needed it to be enough. I was in a place where I was saying, “Yeah that truth is nice, but I still want this image of beauty.” I had moments where God’s words would satisfy me, but most other times it never fully did. I didn’t understand, and I didn’t know how to change.

Was I supposed to just forget everything I ever desired my body to be? Was I supposed to ignore the way I looked and pretend that my body image never mattered? How was I ever supposed to quiet the voice that told me I still wasn’t just right?

Looking back on the moments wherein God’s truth truly did satisfy my heart, I found my answer.

When the truth of God’s words isn’t enough, it’s because I am placing more importance and authority on someone or something else. When God is legitimately the most important thing in my life, my physical appearance doesn’t matter. When God is first, I can see.

When I find myself so in love with God that He is my heart’s deepest desire, I find myself loving my body, his beautiful creation, too.

We are still on the trip together to fully heal my heart, but I am learning, and I know I am moving forward. I am on a journey traveling forward with God; one that allows my weak heart to make pit stops. Sometimes I have to stop at station one, wherein I have forgotten the truth I have learned and need to hear it again. Other days, I have to stop at station three because I have allowed God to fall from the first love in my life, and I must refocus my eyes and heart on Him. None of the stops are a sign that I have begun moving backward, but they are necessary stops to make along the way so that I may reach my end destination.

I may never fully reach it, but I have hope knowing that I am continually moving forward (and that God doesn’t mind driving every once in awhile when I am exhausted).

For years as I struggled with my body, my primary focus and desire was to make myself more beautiful. Strangely enough, God is doing just that for me. He is making me into a more beautiful person each day, but not by changing my appearance as I would have done. He is merely opening my eyes to the beauty that has always been there, the beauty that He created.