Thursday, November 17, 2011
Motivation Unleashed
My brothers (sisters) if one of you should wander from the truth and someone should bring him back, remember this: Whoever turns a sinner from the error of his way will save him from death and cover over a multitude of sins. -James 5:19-20
Who can solve the "gay" question?
How does it happen? When does it happen? And of course, why would God seemingly wire a person to be gay and then call it sinful?
The answers simple, no one really knows. All we know about this subject comes from either our own life experience or hearing about it from others. And although I am firm believer in absolute truth, I would call this subject of attraction and sexual identity, relative.
So I guess the next question is "Why the fighting?" or "Why the controversy?" If no one can prove anything for sure...Where does the hatred, harsh words, and condemnation stem from?
The obvious answer among the mainstream is Christianity, but I would say it's ignorance. True, the Christian church does it's fair share of pushing Christian ideals into politics and we (Christians) take a warrior-like attitude when it comes to our schools and our family's values being threatened. And just like LGBT community, when we get pushed, we push back. However, there are many Christians out there that are not pushing at all. Still in this post millennium we have churches that refuse to acknowledge that these questions even circle around their communities. Those are the churches that I'm most afraid of.
My friend, Patty, from college had the same thought, when she started her own facebook group and blog. Patty thought education and open dialogue was the key to getting rid of the "haters". I knew she was right about that, but she had her agenda and I had mine and we couldn't see eye-to-eye on much.
Patty is a Christian. Patty and her girlfriend have been together for about 4 years.
(Still writing....it's a slow process for me. My apologies. It's getting good, I can tell. So keep checking back for updated versions.)
Who can solve the "gay" question?
How does it happen? When does it happen? And of course, why would God seemingly wire a person to be gay and then call it sinful?
The answers simple, no one really knows. All we know about this subject comes from either our own life experience or hearing about it from others. And although I am firm believer in absolute truth, I would call this subject of attraction and sexual identity, relative.
So I guess the next question is "Why the fighting?" or "Why the controversy?" If no one can prove anything for sure...Where does the hatred, harsh words, and condemnation stem from?
The obvious answer among the mainstream is Christianity, but I would say it's ignorance. True, the Christian church does it's fair share of pushing Christian ideals into politics and we (Christians) take a warrior-like attitude when it comes to our schools and our family's values being threatened. And just like LGBT community, when we get pushed, we push back. However, there are many Christians out there that are not pushing at all. Still in this post millennium we have churches that refuse to acknowledge that these questions even circle around their communities. Those are the churches that I'm most afraid of.
My friend, Patty, from college had the same thought, when she started her own facebook group and blog. Patty thought education and open dialogue was the key to getting rid of the "haters". I knew she was right about that, but she had her agenda and I had mine and we couldn't see eye-to-eye on much.
Patty is a Christian. Patty and her girlfriend have been together for about 4 years.
(Still writing....it's a slow process for me. My apologies. It's getting good, I can tell. So keep checking back for updated versions.)
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
debating
My best friend is Jesus.
There I said it. (Well, at least it should be. Jesus and I have a lot of catching up to do) The BFF spot cannot be shared with my husband because my relationship with Jesus must always stand alone; no one not even Drew can share that position with Him. I found this out the hard way.
Many years have gone by with this pyramid scheme inside my head. I wish I knew how to draw it out for you all on here. Basically, it's a triangle that shows God at the top and Drew and I at the lower points. The idea sounds pretty insightful: as we grow closer to God we grow closer to each other. The problem with the diagram is it's dependant on each individuals pursuit after a close relationship to God. What if my spouse or I make unconscious/conscience decisions not to follow after that goal? What then? Am I still to pursuit God even if that pulls me further away from my spouse, my best friend?! The answer is yes, but the metaphor of the pyramid is lousy.
Unfortunately, it took many years away from a close relationship with the Lord to finally realize this. I thought that I had to choose : God or Drew, and how could that be if he is my God-given husband? I chose to be a faithful wife and somehow that contradicted with a close relationship with Jesus.
Drew believes all the same things that I do about the Bible. He wants to impart those same beliefs onto our children. We pray before our dinner meal and if he is able (as in not working), he wants to attend church. However, early on (within the first month of our marriage) he confided that he never really had experienced the kind of excitement and personal love for God like I had. (Of course, while writing this, I hope that I'm not misrepresenting him.) That conversation would fester and brood inside my heart and my head for many years to come. And the subject of our prayer life or things related would remain virtually taboo. Gradually this conflicting battle of who I would choose to be closer to on my personal pyramid (God or my spouse) would be reluctantly be resolved.
I chose Drew, and that led both of us down a path of disappointment and emptiness. I could not be the wife or woman I needed to be without Jesus as my center.
_________
Note to readers: My apologies for this post to be cut short like this, but it had been sitting in my "draft" box for a while now because it was very difficult to share intimate details about Drew and I. I'm not at all embarrassed of my husband, and I don't want to give of that impression, however I know that I don't understand everything about him or his relationship with God and it's impartant to me not to say things that are misleading or untruthful. So I'm going to post this and if you have further questions about how I got from point A to point C, I encourage you to ask me specifically to explain. Thanks.
Moving on.... I will be making another post today. The subject is: My Motivation Exposed -the whole truth of why I created this blog and why I've been hiding it.
There I said it. (Well, at least it should be. Jesus and I have a lot of catching up to do) The BFF spot cannot be shared with my husband because my relationship with Jesus must always stand alone; no one not even Drew can share that position with Him. I found this out the hard way.
Many years have gone by with this pyramid scheme inside my head. I wish I knew how to draw it out for you all on here. Basically, it's a triangle that shows God at the top and Drew and I at the lower points. The idea sounds pretty insightful: as we grow closer to God we grow closer to each other. The problem with the diagram is it's dependant on each individuals pursuit after a close relationship to God. What if my spouse or I make unconscious/conscience decisions not to follow after that goal? What then? Am I still to pursuit God even if that pulls me further away from my spouse, my best friend?! The answer is yes, but the metaphor of the pyramid is lousy.
Unfortunately, it took many years away from a close relationship with the Lord to finally realize this. I thought that I had to choose : God or Drew, and how could that be if he is my God-given husband? I chose to be a faithful wife and somehow that contradicted with a close relationship with Jesus.
Drew believes all the same things that I do about the Bible. He wants to impart those same beliefs onto our children. We pray before our dinner meal and if he is able (as in not working), he wants to attend church. However, early on (within the first month of our marriage) he confided that he never really had experienced the kind of excitement and personal love for God like I had. (Of course, while writing this, I hope that I'm not misrepresenting him.) That conversation would fester and brood inside my heart and my head for many years to come. And the subject of our prayer life or things related would remain virtually taboo. Gradually this conflicting battle of who I would choose to be closer to on my personal pyramid (God or my spouse) would be reluctantly be resolved.
I chose Drew, and that led both of us down a path of disappointment and emptiness. I could not be the wife or woman I needed to be without Jesus as my center.
_________
Note to readers: My apologies for this post to be cut short like this, but it had been sitting in my "draft" box for a while now because it was very difficult to share intimate details about Drew and I. I'm not at all embarrassed of my husband, and I don't want to give of that impression, however I know that I don't understand everything about him or his relationship with God and it's impartant to me not to say things that are misleading or untruthful. So I'm going to post this and if you have further questions about how I got from point A to point C, I encourage you to ask me specifically to explain. Thanks.
Moving on.... I will be making another post today. The subject is: My Motivation Exposed -the whole truth of why I created this blog and why I've been hiding it.
Friday, September 30, 2011
Living Fearlessly
"So, first of all, let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself—nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance." -FDR
I don't think living fearlessly means that we will never be cautious or that we will throw away every crumb of wisdom that we've acquired along the way. However, Fear should not be our master.
I realize that I'm preaching this from a blog site of which I still hide behind a phony name. Yet, there are many of my readers that know who I am, and have contact with me on a weekly basis. Reaching out for help and showing my true colors was extremely hard to do. Now, I sometimes want to shout out my worst sin inside a crowded room- just to free up myself from the irrational fear that I would be rejected - And to free up everyone else, so that they can do the same.
What Fear doesn't want anyone to know:
He's powerless without you.
If you let go....Wow! Just think about it for a minute or two.... Think about your shoulders not having to try so hard to hold your body up. Imagine letting go of that worry that's kept you paralyzed in relationships (including the one between you and God).
That's what I want to talk about next. How this fear has affected the way I see God working in my life. The emphasis is not on Him working, but me seeing it clearly.
I've been afraid that God sees me the way others do; the way "I" do -as useless, as wicked, as cursed.
But I know that's not the truth. Fear keeps me trapped inside that lie that God doesn't need me for anything. At best, I'm just ordinary (refer back to post title: I'm Ordinary with special needs")
What would happen if I were to throw fear away? Would I start to see a clearer vision of the way God has created me? Would I start to see a purpose for my life? Would I start to hear His voice instead of all the doubts? I wonder ...what would He say to me?
What would He say to you?
Would He remind me of all the men and women written about in the Bible?
- David who started out a simple shepherd boy to become a great king; who then misused his God-given authority to murder a man because he slept with his wife.
- Saul (or Paul) who tortured Christians as a part of his job description; who was so stubborn that God had to take away his sight before he could see the truth.
- Peter, the plain fisherman that was called away from his boat to follow the footsteps of the Son of God, who then just hours before Christ's death, would claim that he never knew Him at all.
And I'm afraid God won't use me because I've got problems....?
Next Post: My BFF is not my spouse. Tune in next week to find out "why?"
Monday, September 26, 2011
Living Haunted
There are many times that I sit down to write something on here, and a thought passes through my head : "Why would anyone wanna read about my garbage?" And strangely enough the answer to that is always, "because I'm not alone". I am just a voice for many who are asking the same kind of questions about their own lives. We are all struggling to find the faith to keep it together for another day. And I know that some of my readers have started their own venue to speak out and be real to others. I think it's time we all stopped hiding behind our political socially acceptable Sunday School faces. It's time to stop being afraid; allowing fear to control our relationships and our decision to trust.
Maybe you don't think this applies to you...
These are a few ways that fear may affect your life:
Fear makes loneliness
Fear builds walls
Fear keeps it all inside
Fear says that I'm better off alone
Fear whispers lies
Fear keeps me hurting
Fear provides a place for the ghosts to thrive
Fear keeps me silent
Fear leads me to places that I was never meant to be
Fear scares away reason;
"I'm alone because I'm afraid of being alone."
Fear searches for an excuse to keep being afraid
Fear hides itself
Fear puts on a face
Fear acts like everything's okay
Fear won't let me accept forgiveness or grace
Fear records my failures
Fear and Faith can not be friends.
I've let Fear make my choices. Not anymore.
I refuse.
I put aside my fear and went to the woman's retreat (refer to previous post, "Retreat!"). Not to say, I wasn't still afraid. I was. In fact the night before, I barely got a wink of sleep in. If my tanks hadn't been filled to the top with nervousness and anxiety, I would have been running on empty. The day went as well as could be expected. The speakers were great and seemed to be perfectly aimed at my heart with their message. I tried hard to hide my enthusiasm about all of it though; I was still too nervous to let my true emotions show through.
The night was coming quickly and the sleeping arrangements seemed set in stone -Two double beds in each suite along with a fold out couch. We had only 4 ladies in our room so I was sure that I could take the couch if I wanted to, but I didn't want it to look like I was scared to sleep in the same bed with someone else. I didn't want to show my discomfort.
I paid my portion for the room and then proceeded upstairs. Greeting me almost immediately after I opened the door was the only lady that I considered a friend in the room. She spoke up quickly and told me that it had been decided that they would all sleep and share the beds (everyone except herself-she didn't have to share) and I would get the fold out. The sheets were already laid on top waiting for me to make it up. Immediately, like someone had just tossed me into a dumpster, my spirit was broken. The couch was in a separate room from the beds, and that's how I felt -separated. Segregated, because I was different? Because I'm weird? Because I'm not like them? Can they see all that? Do I really make them feel all that uncomfortable? Why am I always the oddball? ...the outcast
It was happening again. I was a kid again in the room that night. Alone in the dark, left alone in my inescapable misery and thoughts that it would always be this way, I was born this way. I can't get away from the voices of my past. There in the dark they continuously yell inside my head. "You're a freak!" "What did you expect them to do? Sleep with you??" "You're a mistake!" "No one wants you!" "You should have never been born!"
I cry out into my pillow because even my Mp3s could not drown out the sound of their taunts and my breaking heart. I tried to listen to reason. I don't really think my friend was trying to push me away. After all, I got what I wanted in the first place. It just bothered me that she chose it first. But all the rational thought in the world would not keep the ghosts out of my head. I cried myself to sleep that night.
The next morning was awkward. I wanted to put it all out of my head, like a bad dream. But they could tell that something was off about me (I could see it in their eyes and they way they tip-toed with their words) and that just reminded me again that it was real. I knew that this day would not end soon enough. I longed for my home, full of chaotic child rearing and dysfunctional marriage; it all was sounding better to me right now.
More speakers spoke but I couldn't listen anymore. My attention was elsewhere, waffling over whether I should confront my roommate or not. I weighed the pros and cons. Pros: I could talk it out and stop feeling this way. I wouldn't keep associating this experience with her, and could put aside the resentment that I still felt. Cons: She didn't do anything wrong. I should just leave her alone. What would I really want to say to her anyway? I can't tell her the truth! I can't tell her that I'm awkward around other women because I'm secretly attracted to them and I feel inferior to them because of that. This was my problem, not hers.
After this lengthy debate in my head, I took a moment to do the smartest thing that I had done for the whole weekend. I prayed.
At break time, I asked my former roommate aside to a nearby stairwell. Still unsure of what I would say, I took a deep breath and started with "It's not your fault. I want you to know, you didn't do anything wrong. But I need to explain something to you so that I will know that you know and I won't continue to feel bad about us." I told her about that night and how I cried myself to sleep. I told her that my feeling were hurt because not of what she had done or said but because of the painful past that it triggered. I told her about the kids who made me like a freak of nature. I talked a little about my father. By the end of it, I was in tears again, but I knew it was over. The storm had passed, And I was able to look her in the eye again- as a friend instead of foe. Her response to the conversation was that she saw me as a strong and independent woman. She saw me as someone who thrives in loneliness. I shook my head in disbelief, because I knew why she had that impression of me. It was fear lived out in me. I kept everyone away because I was afraid. In my fear, I had made myself unapproachable and hardened. Ironic, that I would allow fear to come in the door while I toss out my friends, when not having any friends was what I'd feared.
Fear would've wanted me to never approach my friend about that night.
_____ (to be continued, because I have more to say)_______
Maybe you don't think this applies to you...
These are a few ways that fear may affect your life:
Fear makes loneliness
Fear builds walls
Fear keeps it all inside
Fear says that I'm better off alone
Fear whispers lies
Fear keeps me hurting
Fear provides a place for the ghosts to thrive
Fear keeps me silent
Fear leads me to places that I was never meant to be
Fear scares away reason;
"I'm alone because I'm afraid of being alone."
Fear searches for an excuse to keep being afraid
Fear hides itself
Fear puts on a face
Fear acts like everything's okay
Fear won't let me accept forgiveness or grace
Fear records my failures
Fear and Faith can not be friends.
I've let Fear make my choices. Not anymore.
I refuse.
I put aside my fear and went to the woman's retreat (refer to previous post, "Retreat!"). Not to say, I wasn't still afraid. I was. In fact the night before, I barely got a wink of sleep in. If my tanks hadn't been filled to the top with nervousness and anxiety, I would have been running on empty. The day went as well as could be expected. The speakers were great and seemed to be perfectly aimed at my heart with their message. I tried hard to hide my enthusiasm about all of it though; I was still too nervous to let my true emotions show through.
The night was coming quickly and the sleeping arrangements seemed set in stone -Two double beds in each suite along with a fold out couch. We had only 4 ladies in our room so I was sure that I could take the couch if I wanted to, but I didn't want it to look like I was scared to sleep in the same bed with someone else. I didn't want to show my discomfort.
I paid my portion for the room and then proceeded upstairs. Greeting me almost immediately after I opened the door was the only lady that I considered a friend in the room. She spoke up quickly and told me that it had been decided that they would all sleep and share the beds (everyone except herself-she didn't have to share) and I would get the fold out. The sheets were already laid on top waiting for me to make it up. Immediately, like someone had just tossed me into a dumpster, my spirit was broken. The couch was in a separate room from the beds, and that's how I felt -separated. Segregated, because I was different? Because I'm weird? Because I'm not like them? Can they see all that? Do I really make them feel all that uncomfortable? Why am I always the oddball? ...the outcast
It was happening again. I was a kid again in the room that night. Alone in the dark, left alone in my inescapable misery and thoughts that it would always be this way, I was born this way. I can't get away from the voices of my past. There in the dark they continuously yell inside my head. "You're a freak!" "What did you expect them to do? Sleep with you??" "You're a mistake!" "No one wants you!" "You should have never been born!"
I cry out into my pillow because even my Mp3s could not drown out the sound of their taunts and my breaking heart. I tried to listen to reason. I don't really think my friend was trying to push me away. After all, I got what I wanted in the first place. It just bothered me that she chose it first. But all the rational thought in the world would not keep the ghosts out of my head. I cried myself to sleep that night.
The next morning was awkward. I wanted to put it all out of my head, like a bad dream. But they could tell that something was off about me (I could see it in their eyes and they way they tip-toed with their words) and that just reminded me again that it was real. I knew that this day would not end soon enough. I longed for my home, full of chaotic child rearing and dysfunctional marriage; it all was sounding better to me right now.
More speakers spoke but I couldn't listen anymore. My attention was elsewhere, waffling over whether I should confront my roommate or not. I weighed the pros and cons. Pros: I could talk it out and stop feeling this way. I wouldn't keep associating this experience with her, and could put aside the resentment that I still felt. Cons: She didn't do anything wrong. I should just leave her alone. What would I really want to say to her anyway? I can't tell her the truth! I can't tell her that I'm awkward around other women because I'm secretly attracted to them and I feel inferior to them because of that. This was my problem, not hers.
After this lengthy debate in my head, I took a moment to do the smartest thing that I had done for the whole weekend. I prayed.
At break time, I asked my former roommate aside to a nearby stairwell. Still unsure of what I would say, I took a deep breath and started with "It's not your fault. I want you to know, you didn't do anything wrong. But I need to explain something to you so that I will know that you know and I won't continue to feel bad about us." I told her about that night and how I cried myself to sleep. I told her that my feeling were hurt because not of what she had done or said but because of the painful past that it triggered. I told her about the kids who made me like a freak of nature. I talked a little about my father. By the end of it, I was in tears again, but I knew it was over. The storm had passed, And I was able to look her in the eye again- as a friend instead of foe. Her response to the conversation was that she saw me as a strong and independent woman. She saw me as someone who thrives in loneliness. I shook my head in disbelief, because I knew why she had that impression of me. It was fear lived out in me. I kept everyone away because I was afraid. In my fear, I had made myself unapproachable and hardened. Ironic, that I would allow fear to come in the door while I toss out my friends, when not having any friends was what I'd feared.
Fear would've wanted me to never approach my friend about that night.
_____ (to be continued, because I have more to say)_______
Sunday, August 28, 2011
I'm ordinary with special needs.
I want to believe that I am special to God. I know all about the lost sheep story and about Christ's death and resurrection. I know that He goes to the extremes out of love for me. But I also know that He loves everyone enough to do the same. What makes me different? What makes me noticeable? Because I want Him to notice me.
I know that each person is unique and "special" in their own way, but that doesn't satisfy my desire to excel; the desire to strive for God's special attention.
I think we all have this competitive nature in us; some more extreme than others. You could say to be human is to compete. The desire towards being the best is lived out in many forms in our life: work, school, the entertainment industry, family, our hobbies, sports (of course), and even in the ability to manage our fiances - how much we have determines our status to the rest of the world.
"I want Him to notice me." I sound like Zacchaeus...(was a wee little man). I sound foolish, selfish even. When I studied the book of Hebrews in college I was mesmerized by chapter 11, which was referred to as "The Hall of Faith". I knew that all people mentioned there were sinners just like me, but something was different about their life. God had taken special notice and had their lives (mistakes and all) recorded. As futile as it sounds, I found myself jealous of David. The man who was said to have favor with the Lord, a man after God's own heart. And I didn't want to be like Christ, I wanted to be like David because I wanted God to pay special attention to me.
Job had special attention.... Ok, let's skip him.
I don't know if it's right or wrong. But I just feel so lost in the crowd when it comes to God and me.
Everyone keeps saying, "Let God's love be enough." How do I do that? When all I can think of is I'm just another Jane in this world. Just another sheep that the shepherd loves. (This is why polygamy doesn't work, fellas.) We all want to feel special to someone. I want to feel special to God.
It wasn't always this way. I used to believe. I was so certain that God had a specific special purpose for my life to further His kingdom. Someone somewhere down the line woke me up from that dream, and I just want to get it back again. How do you become naive after you're not? It makes having "faith like a child" seem like an impossibility. We are told as children that we need to "grow up!", so that's what we do. It's hard to imagine that we had a better chance at understanding the nature of God and His relationship to the universe at the age where we still wet the bed at night.
In the upper room there was a discussion between Jesus and His disciples. As if Jesus didn't have enough on His plate, but His friends decided to bicker over who was His "BFF".
All I know is I want God to fill in this hole in my heart with a purpose bigger than myself, bigger than the pain and all the lies left behind. If it is wrong to look for it anywhere else, I need that kind of attention from Him.
I know that each person is unique and "special" in their own way, but that doesn't satisfy my desire to excel; the desire to strive for God's special attention.
I think we all have this competitive nature in us; some more extreme than others. You could say to be human is to compete. The desire towards being the best is lived out in many forms in our life: work, school, the entertainment industry, family, our hobbies, sports (of course), and even in the ability to manage our fiances - how much we have determines our status to the rest of the world.
"I want Him to notice me." I sound like Zacchaeus...(was a wee little man). I sound foolish, selfish even. When I studied the book of Hebrews in college I was mesmerized by chapter 11, which was referred to as "The Hall of Faith". I knew that all people mentioned there were sinners just like me, but something was different about their life. God had taken special notice and had their lives (mistakes and all) recorded. As futile as it sounds, I found myself jealous of David. The man who was said to have favor with the Lord, a man after God's own heart. And I didn't want to be like Christ, I wanted to be like David because I wanted God to pay special attention to me.
Job had special attention.... Ok, let's skip him.
I don't know if it's right or wrong. But I just feel so lost in the crowd when it comes to God and me.
Everyone keeps saying, "Let God's love be enough." How do I do that? When all I can think of is I'm just another Jane in this world. Just another sheep that the shepherd loves. (This is why polygamy doesn't work, fellas.) We all want to feel special to someone. I want to feel special to God.
It wasn't always this way. I used to believe. I was so certain that God had a specific special purpose for my life to further His kingdom. Someone somewhere down the line woke me up from that dream, and I just want to get it back again. How do you become naive after you're not? It makes having "faith like a child" seem like an impossibility. We are told as children that we need to "grow up!", so that's what we do. It's hard to imagine that we had a better chance at understanding the nature of God and His relationship to the universe at the age where we still wet the bed at night.
In the upper room there was a discussion between Jesus and His disciples. As if Jesus didn't have enough on His plate, but His friends decided to bicker over who was His "BFF".
"Jesus said to them, 'The kings of the Gentiles lord it over them; and those who exercise authority over them call themselves Benefactors. But you are not to be like that. Instead, the greatest among you should be like the youngest, and the one who rules like the one who serves. For who is greater, the one who is at the table or the one who serves? Is it not the one who is at the table? But I am among you as one who serves. You are those who have stood by me in my trials. And I confer on you a kingdom, just as my Father conferred one on me, so that you may eat and drink at my table in my kingdom and sit on thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel.'" (Luke 22:25-30)I like to serve others. I get a personal joy from doing little and big jobs for people. I believe that I would go to the ugliest smelliest most uncomfortable place imaginable for God, if He wanted me to. The hardest thing for me to do is to live a life of mediocrity. The proverbial question: "What if God asks you to live well and serve just where you are?" No more, no less... Would I feel special to Him through the everyday American middle class routine, serving just where I am?
All I know is I want God to fill in this hole in my heart with a purpose bigger than myself, bigger than the pain and all the lies left behind. If it is wrong to look for it anywhere else, I need that kind of attention from Him.
Friday, August 5, 2011
Yeah, What she said
This is a question that was posted in a forum I was reading. Although not all of the details of her situation are the same; I really connected with the relationship that she describes with her fiance.
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"I'm a 27f and my fiance is 24. We've been together for almost 6 years this May. Sex has been great in the past, not as much as I would like it but acceptable I guess. For the past few months he hasn't tried anything at all and blames me most of the time. He says you fell asleep or it didn't seem like you wanted it. Well I can't be staying up till 3am waiting for him to try something. And when I try he says he's too tired, happens almost everytime. I got all dressed up in lingerie the other nite lookin my best. He complimented on how sexy and beautiful I looked but again he went to sleep. To me he didn't show interest like he used too. We have been through a lot though. But I feel that should not have anything to do with sex. I don' think its a sexual issue though. I feel even when we hang out at home that things aren't the same. All he does is watch tv while I stay at the computer. I stay at the computer because I don't feel wanted by him. I think he thinks I don't want him either. Its just gotten really boring. He said that to me the other day. He said that when people have been together for as long as we have that its normal for things to get boring. I don't think he meant it to hurt me because I somewhat agree but I can't help to think if he was meaning something by saying that. It hurt. I'm not a boring girl. I like to go out and I like getting dressed up for him. I love sex all the time if I could get it. I know when I leave he puts on a movie and gets off without me. Thats really messed up though. I've had to do it without him because i'm not getting any which sucks sometimes. I'm bi and this girl is trying to meet up with me. I'm more temepted than ever. He knows i'm bi. He doesn't know i'm talking to this girl though. I want to tell him but I don't know if I should because that can open a can of worms about our relationship. He might wonder why i'm trying to meet another girl. Then he'll pull a guilt trip on me or something. What do you all think? Do I have the right to wanna hook up with this girl? Does my fiance still want me sexually? I'm so confused and need advice."
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Luckily, the last part of her post is not a problem for me. But I'm sure that if I was ever put into a place where I would be tempted by a relationship with a woman, I might feel just as confused about it. (Sorry, if the sound of that makes some of you go "WHAT??!" or think poorly of me....I'm just being honest.)
I posted this because I wanted to hear some feedback about what you might say in response to this woman's confusion.
-----------
"I'm a 27f and my fiance is 24. We've been together for almost 6 years this May. Sex has been great in the past, not as much as I would like it but acceptable I guess. For the past few months he hasn't tried anything at all and blames me most of the time. He says you fell asleep or it didn't seem like you wanted it. Well I can't be staying up till 3am waiting for him to try something. And when I try he says he's too tired, happens almost everytime. I got all dressed up in lingerie the other nite lookin my best. He complimented on how sexy and beautiful I looked but again he went to sleep. To me he didn't show interest like he used too. We have been through a lot though. But I feel that should not have anything to do with sex. I don' think its a sexual issue though. I feel even when we hang out at home that things aren't the same. All he does is watch tv while I stay at the computer. I stay at the computer because I don't feel wanted by him. I think he thinks I don't want him either. Its just gotten really boring. He said that to me the other day. He said that when people have been together for as long as we have that its normal for things to get boring. I don't think he meant it to hurt me because I somewhat agree but I can't help to think if he was meaning something by saying that. It hurt. I'm not a boring girl. I like to go out and I like getting dressed up for him. I love sex all the time if I could get it. I know when I leave he puts on a movie and gets off without me. Thats really messed up though. I've had to do it without him because i'm not getting any which sucks sometimes. I'm bi and this girl is trying to meet up with me. I'm more temepted than ever. He knows i'm bi. He doesn't know i'm talking to this girl though. I want to tell him but I don't know if I should because that can open a can of worms about our relationship. He might wonder why i'm trying to meet another girl. Then he'll pull a guilt trip on me or something. What do you all think? Do I have the right to wanna hook up with this girl? Does my fiance still want me sexually? I'm so confused and need advice."
----------------------
Luckily, the last part of her post is not a problem for me. But I'm sure that if I was ever put into a place where I would be tempted by a relationship with a woman, I might feel just as confused about it. (Sorry, if the sound of that makes some of you go "WHAT??!" or think poorly of me....I'm just being honest.)
I posted this because I wanted to hear some feedback about what you might say in response to this woman's confusion.
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Let your light shine through
In my last post, I talked about the image that I saw in myself. I mentioned that throughout H.S. I dated guys because it boosted my self-esteem, but only to have it crushed when I would realized that I still was not good enough to be seen by the ones that I wanted to look at me.
I simply was not made to be beautiful.
After High School graduation, my folks moved on to a new house in a new state, and I was forced to follow. I had never even traveled this far north before and now, everything I had worked for (my reputation, my friends, my hangouts, my job..) it was all taken away. I was starting over again. I was starting fresh. And after the summer was over, I would start college.
If it wasn't soccer, then pool was my game. Not swimming, billiards. I knew that if I could find a pool hall in this town then I could make some new friends (aka. dates to fuel my self-esteem again). I was used to getting guy's attention, in an environment where I was the only female available.
Naturally, I would go in alone. I would scan the room for prospects and then would proceed to start playing a game - solo. It wouldn't take long before I would have a partner for the next game. I looked at them like they were suckers, paying for my games, my drinks, my attention, my FUN...but down deep inside, past my stubborn pride, I knew who the real sucker would be. Because without fail there was always that one guy that I would spot, and immediately I would know that he was much too good for me. Even if he wasn't marriage material, his looks said that he would never even second glance at me. That pool hall in Illinois was the first to break that rule. And I quickly found myself in too deep before I knew it was happening.
The physical attraction was so intense that all my virtues of waiting for marriage, was quickly being forgotten. What would hold me back in the end, was my own insecurities. I was still afraid that something about my body would turn him off of me.
Jesse was one of those special guys. I still have fond memories of him. He was just as confused as I was, but in a whole nother way. Jesse was a self-confessed sex addict. I wasn't really sure what that meant when he told me, but I knew that I must be just another set of legs to him. When I wasn't working the late shift, I would tell my parents that I was, and then sneak off to see Jesse. I was afraid of him, and afraid of me, but I also wanted to indulge and push the limits a little bit. Jesse was what people might call "cut" he had the pretty face to match the muscles too. And I knew by the way he talked, that I was just one of many women that had noticed his beautiful body. That fact left me feeling insecure, even in our flimsy dating relationship that we were in. I wanted more from him. I wanted to be special to him.
Jesse wasn't a Christian. Far from it, in fact. When I told him that I was going to a Christian college, he asked me if I was going to be a nun. (uh...no.) My connection with God was still a very high priority, and although my selfish desires had clouded my good intentions; I still really wanted to share my faith with Jesse. We talked in depth about his search for a higher power. I could tell that he longed for something more to this life. Even with the sheltered view that he had of the world, he knew that without something good, all that's left is the bad. He was searching for God. He told me that he was waiting for a "sign" to believe. Sadly, I had to say good-bye and go to school. Jesse had decided to join the Job Corp. I had hoped that I would be that "sign" he was looking for. Instead, we went our separate ways sad and slightly annoyed with one another because of the faith based coversations.
I was in the middle of my second semester sophomore year, when I got an unexpected letter delivered to me. It was Jesse. He had called my parents house to get my address. I was shocked and very excited to hear from him, especially knowing to what great lengths he went to get in touch with me. "You must have made a lasting impression with me," he said. With every word I read, all I could think of, was he couldn't be talking about me, because I'm nothing special. But then I knew what it was that made him believe that I was. Unfortunately, there's nothing that I could quote from Jesse's letter to would show you what I can see when I read it. But through all the recorded memories and by the way he spoke about our last moments together I can tell, I was special to him. I was special in the same way that music is to a deaf person, or touch to a blind person. I allowed him to feel the one thing that he'd been missing.
I began to slowly piece it all together lately. It was something I had forgotten. Amongst all the diet planning and workout scheduling throughout my year, I had missed the point again. In fact, I drive myself crazy when I try to live up to my standards of beautiful.
I can't make myself beautiful. I can't make myself special to anyone.
But God can.
And when I allow His light to shine through, He does.
-------------------------------------------------------------
(Fun Fact: I am fascinated by the meanings behind names. I looked up the meaning of "Jesse"- you should try it. Tell me what you find. That is his real name by-the-way.)
I simply was not made to be beautiful.
After High School graduation, my folks moved on to a new house in a new state, and I was forced to follow. I had never even traveled this far north before and now, everything I had worked for (my reputation, my friends, my hangouts, my job..) it was all taken away. I was starting over again. I was starting fresh. And after the summer was over, I would start college.
If it wasn't soccer, then pool was my game. Not swimming, billiards. I knew that if I could find a pool hall in this town then I could make some new friends (aka. dates to fuel my self-esteem again). I was used to getting guy's attention, in an environment where I was the only female available.
Naturally, I would go in alone. I would scan the room for prospects and then would proceed to start playing a game - solo. It wouldn't take long before I would have a partner for the next game. I looked at them like they were suckers, paying for my games, my drinks, my attention, my FUN...but down deep inside, past my stubborn pride, I knew who the real sucker would be. Because without fail there was always that one guy that I would spot, and immediately I would know that he was much too good for me. Even if he wasn't marriage material, his looks said that he would never even second glance at me. That pool hall in Illinois was the first to break that rule. And I quickly found myself in too deep before I knew it was happening.
The physical attraction was so intense that all my virtues of waiting for marriage, was quickly being forgotten. What would hold me back in the end, was my own insecurities. I was still afraid that something about my body would turn him off of me.
Jesse was one of those special guys. I still have fond memories of him. He was just as confused as I was, but in a whole nother way. Jesse was a self-confessed sex addict. I wasn't really sure what that meant when he told me, but I knew that I must be just another set of legs to him. When I wasn't working the late shift, I would tell my parents that I was, and then sneak off to see Jesse. I was afraid of him, and afraid of me, but I also wanted to indulge and push the limits a little bit. Jesse was what people might call "cut" he had the pretty face to match the muscles too. And I knew by the way he talked, that I was just one of many women that had noticed his beautiful body. That fact left me feeling insecure, even in our flimsy dating relationship that we were in. I wanted more from him. I wanted to be special to him.
Jesse wasn't a Christian. Far from it, in fact. When I told him that I was going to a Christian college, he asked me if I was going to be a nun. (uh...no.) My connection with God was still a very high priority, and although my selfish desires had clouded my good intentions; I still really wanted to share my faith with Jesse. We talked in depth about his search for a higher power. I could tell that he longed for something more to this life. Even with the sheltered view that he had of the world, he knew that without something good, all that's left is the bad. He was searching for God. He told me that he was waiting for a "sign" to believe. Sadly, I had to say good-bye and go to school. Jesse had decided to join the Job Corp. I had hoped that I would be that "sign" he was looking for. Instead, we went our separate ways sad and slightly annoyed with one another because of the faith based coversations.
I was in the middle of my second semester sophomore year, when I got an unexpected letter delivered to me. It was Jesse. He had called my parents house to get my address. I was shocked and very excited to hear from him, especially knowing to what great lengths he went to get in touch with me. "You must have made a lasting impression with me," he said. With every word I read, all I could think of, was he couldn't be talking about me, because I'm nothing special. But then I knew what it was that made him believe that I was. Unfortunately, there's nothing that I could quote from Jesse's letter to would show you what I can see when I read it. But through all the recorded memories and by the way he spoke about our last moments together I can tell, I was special to him. I was special in the same way that music is to a deaf person, or touch to a blind person. I allowed him to feel the one thing that he'd been missing.
I began to slowly piece it all together lately. It was something I had forgotten. Amongst all the diet planning and workout scheduling throughout my year, I had missed the point again. In fact, I drive myself crazy when I try to live up to my standards of beautiful.
I can't make myself beautiful. I can't make myself special to anyone.
But God can.
And when I allow His light to shine through, He does.
-------------------------------------------------------------
(Fun Fact: I am fascinated by the meanings behind names. I looked up the meaning of "Jesse"- you should try it. Tell me what you find. That is his real name by-the-way.)
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