Dear Braveheart

While I know you’ll never read this, or if you do, no one will ever know because you could never admit to the things I’m about to say out loud, some for the first time ever, because you have an image to keep. God forbid anyone ever think any less of you. 

It’s been years since what happened between us. Luckily, a lot of those memories have faded, and I can’t even remember the good stuff. The bad stuff is easy, because it’s what has haunted me for the better part of eleven years. Some, I’ve been able to get past on my own; other stuff took therapy and lots of prayer. But the rest…the rest is a daily battle that I question if I’ll ever win or not. I was told in therapy that I needed to write this letter. It felt stupid, like there was no point in writing a letter that no one will ever read. But, on a night like tonight, when I can’t sleep and it’s because words that you once said are rolling over and over in my head, I figure, why the hell not? 

Throughout our entire relationship, we discussed our future. Our first date revolved around our future. Within the first two weeks of dating, “I love you’s” were exchanged, poetry was written, sonnets were spatted, and so much of what I was convinced I’d never have was coming to pass right before my eyes. I didn’t even worry about opening up my heart to you, because it had never been truly broken before.. How could it have? I was eighteen, the world was my oyster, and all my dreams were seemingly in reach. And over that time, you stole every ounce of self-confidence I had, evert iota of my voice, and led me to believe that a woman’s place is behind her man, not beside him. Our relationship wasn’t a partnership, it was a “If you do what I say, look the way I want you to, and act how I expect you to, I’ll continue to love you” type of dictatorship. And sadly? I let you. I trusted you to make every decision for us, stopped making my own decisions, and let you lead me down the most destructive path I’ve ever been on. 

The reality is this, oh “Wild at Heart”; you took advantage of the mind of a naïve, innocent eighteen-year-old girl, who in all respects should have been allowed to experience life before experiencing a fairytale. I know in those days, I had already experienced my fair share of pain and suffering, but I hadn’t truly experienced anything outside the four walls of my parent’s home. I should have been encouraged to travel, to see the world. It shouldn’t have been a “natural” choice between college or marriage. 

And here is why I am taking the time to write this. You destroyed me. You shattered my heart into a million pieces, not once, but twice. The first time, when you decided there was a better option and just shoved me off to the side like a bad dream. The second, when I found a true friend – and healing – through the friendship with your wife. She is possibly the most selfless, genuine, loving person I’ve ever met, and she was my friend. Do you think it was easy for me, going to visit her, hanging out with her, in YOUR house? Having you come home from work and seeing you and her living this life that was supposed to have been mine? It still amazes me that I literally felt no jealousy or animosity toward her, at any point in time in her and my friendship, as short lived as it may have been. And I have no doubt it was so short term because you were afraid I’d tell her things that would alter her opinion of her perfect husband. So, a great friendship was ruined. In today’s terms, I was “ghosted,” as coffee meetings, lunch appointments, all got cancelled or indefinitely rescheduled, and eventually just stopped hearing back at all. I miss that friendship every day, because she was such a kindred spirit, and now – with so much of my life to look back on and lessons I’ve personally learned as a result of you and your destructiveness – wish I was still part of her life, so I could protect her from you. I had no one to protect me as you wormed your way through my soul, and oh how I wish I had! Those people luckily came into my life just as you were gearing up to crush the rest of my soul. But her…I wish more than anything in the world I could have protected her sweet soul from you. At this point, I pray she has let her voice be heard and put you in your place a time or two. Not for my sake, but for hers. 

As I said before, when I think back on our relationship, I’m reminded not of the good times, but of the bad. Why? Because I finally found someone who loves me for me. Who started loving me when I was at my worst. Somehow this man has found the good in me that I thought was gone long ago, and for the first time in eleven long years, I let down the barriers I worked so hard to keep up. There is still a fragment of my heart behind a stone wall, and my hope is that – by putting this all on paper, by putting it where it can be found but not intentionally sent– that those barriers can come down completely and he can have my WHOLE heart. He deserves that. He deserves all of me, and I can’t give him that until I acknowledge why I’ve kept that small part of me behind closed doors. 

Every single day, I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. I wait for him to come home and give me some bull shit excuse why he’s done with me. I’m far from perfect, because perfect is unachievable – although I’m sure you think you’ve achieved it. Why am I always fearful of this? Well, let me tell you. 

When we were together, you started changing things, grooming me to be your “trophy wife”. On my nineteenth birthday, you told me you had a big surprise for me and with excitement in your eyes, told me for a week leading up that you couldn’t wait to take me out on my birthday. I was so excited; my first birthday with a boyfriend, and I couldn’t wait to see what you had up your sleeve. You bought me flowers, took me to dinner, and then…took me to the mall. Where you told me, I had a certain amount of money to spend on new clothes. I was confused at first, but don’t worry, you explained. Oh, did you ever! The explanation was that my current clothes were frumpy, and you wanted me to have nice, sexy clothes that I could be proud of. When I started picking out things, you immediately stopped me, and started picking out what you found worthy and appropriate of your money. I’ll admit, there was a shirt in there I held on to for quite some time, because I did actually like it a lot. But the reason behind why we were there? Even now when I tell others about that trip to the mall, standing next to you at JC Penny feeling like I never wanted another birthday again, they think I’m making it up. No, that’s not something I can make up. That actually happened. 

About a year into our relationship, you signed up for the gym, something you were really excited about. In your excitement, you said “you can join too! Then we can go together, and you can keep losing weight!” Yes, at 125 lbs and having a history of anorexia, you’re right, I should keep losing weight. At this point of my life, I have no time or energy to go to the gym, work out at home, or do any type of exercise other than come home and be happy I reached my ten thousand steps. I’m typically happy with this and am fine with the fact that I can’t be active, but at least I have a job that keeps me on my feet. But then – then I remember, oh right. I’m in a relationship, and I’m nowhere near where I was when you said that. How could this person possibly keep loving me if I don’t lose weight? How could he possibly find me attractive if I’m not sickly thin, with bags under my eyes from lack of nutrition and a constant cold that goes to the bone because I’m sick? Because he’s not you. Because he loved me when I was at my heaviest, and while I have PLENTY of room for improvement, he doesn’t make me feel like less of a person because I don’t fit his perfect image of “beauty standards.” 

I recently had a breakdown, where I was convinced I was on the brink of another heartbreak, another devastating breakup. I hadn’t had the time or energy to keep the house clean, hadn’t been losing weight – try as I may to do so, hadn’t had time to do my make-up or make dinner or do just about anything. I couldn’t be perfect. I couldn’t be “good enough.” I couldn’t be who I know he deserves to have. I couldn’t be perfect. There was a time in my life where I strove for perfection, did everything I was told, did everything I was expected to do…and yet it still wasn’t enough. I did EVERYTHING you asked of me, did everything you told me I should do, did everything required of me to make you keep loving me. Yet, I still got a break-up text, still wasn’t enough, still had my heart broken. So, in my mind, how could I expect to hold on to someone who doesn’t dictate my life, who doesn’t require things of me, who doesn’t demand perfection if at the point in my life where I WAS perfect, I was still tossed aside like a piece of trash? Luckily, he doesn’t expect or demand perfection. He loves the mess that I am, the imperfect person I am. And that inspires me to do better far more than being reminded constantly how imperfect I am. 

I remember an afternoon when we were still working together. I went out to get the mail, and there was this sweet old couple out for their afternoon walk. She was in her wheelchair, he was pushing her, and it was the sweetest picture of what growing old together looks like. I came back in, came into your office, and asked if you would push my wheelchair when I was old and grey. I expected a sweet smile, a look of adoration, and a response in the way of “of course I will.” The response I got? I quote your exact words, “Not unless you start taking care of yourself.” What more could I have been doing? I was eating minimally so I could maintain the weight you expected me to have, was literally dressed in the clothes you had bought me on my birthday, was going to the gym when you told me to, etc. But somehow, I wasn’t taking care of myself to your standards. And that was worthy of you making me feel guilty. This was around the same time I was diagnosed with IBS and chronic sinus infections. Told by more than one doctor that there was nothing I could do for these infections, and that my stomach issues were incurable. Couple this with the fact that I was sick all the time because my immune system was wrecked from my non-eating habits, I was sick both visibly and invisibly. One of the times I had a sinus infection so bad that I was unable to go to work, you came over to spend time with me. Instead of being sweet and caring in a time I was sick and needed you, you instead told me that if I didn’t get it fixed and taken care of, we’d have problems. Please, enlighten me; how do you fix what can’t be fixed? That is a result of genetics or the environment or some unknown reason? Seeing as you didn’t have a medical degree, I’d love to know how you intended for me to “fix” my illness, so YOU didn’t have to deal with it. How do you think that made me feel? I’ll tell you: it made me feel like I had to fix it so WE didn’t have problems. I tried to take care of what was out of my control, tried to find answers to an unanswerable problem. A problem I still have and isn’t fixable. A problem I’ve learned to deal with and cope with. 

In your and my relationship, it was never a partnership. You said it was, but we both know that’s not true. When I actually allowed myself to speak my mind, which was very rare, I was immediately shot down by some “wise and true” words because you were older or because you were a man. I say that because I still don’t know which reason it was. For having as strong of a mother as you have, who is outspoken and confident, I don’t understand how you have such a lack of respect for women. Maybe anyone who isn’t her doesn’t live up to your standards, I don’t know and never will, and frankly has nothing to do with why I’m finally saying this. But I say it because it’s true. She’s a wonderful person, and someone I dearly miss. But your parent’s relationship was a partnership. It was inspiring that they did so much together, as a team. Just like my mom and dad had. Just like so many people I have looked up to. Lucky for me, I’ve been blessed with someone who actually treats me like a partner. Who reminds me when I’m stressed that WE will get through it because we’re partners. That we’re a team. Something I certainly never had with you. 

There are many more things you said that I see now were micro-aggressions, things said to keep me in my place. To shape me and mold me, to put me in submission to what you wanted. Molding and shaping should be left up to God. Here’s the thing that I need you to understand. I’m writing this, so you understand that how you operate, or did operate, if you’ve changed – is not okay, and not how it’s supposed to be. I hope for your sake that your wife never knows the truth you and I both know, that you manipulated the beginnings of your romance to make it appear “God-ordained” when really, we were still together. That you and she went on your first date, while I sat at home worried to death that something had happened to you since I hadn’t heard from you all day. I pray that the people you shepherd never know that you got to where you are by manufacturing other parishioners works as your own, and that you’ve NEVER owned up to it. That many of the wise words and lessons you taught were the work of other people. 

I’m writing this because I’ve been angry. For years. I find myself angrier now because I’m in a great relationship with an amazing man who loves me. For who I am. Something I’ve never experienced before. Thank you for setting me free years ago. I actually mean that. Thank you for leaving me on the side of the road and never looking back. Thank you for being one of the top five worst people I know, so I can honestly say that I let you go a long time ago. I haven’t had love for you in a long time. By the grace of God, I was able to abandon that love. But unfortunately, I held onto the things that hurt the most, so I would never be hurt again. And that is why I write this. I never got an apology for what you did. I deserved one, and I got one an explanation from your wife. But I deserved an apology from your lips for all the things you ever said that made me feel small, insignificant, and weak. Something I know I’ll never have, but something I know I deserve. And because I know I deserve that, I also can say with confidence, that I deserve to be happy by letting go of the things that have held me back, both in life and relationships. 

So finally, and again, thank you for letting me go. Thank you for giving me the chance to find the voice you tried so hard to squash out of me. Thank you for letting me go be the imperfect person who is happier being an imperfect person rather than a miserable perfect Stepford Wife. Do better with what you have. If you find you’ve said these things to your truly wonderful wife, you have the opportunity to stop saying them now. You can stop being the manipulative, controlling person. If you’ve already stopped, then good on you. But if you haven’t, please take some of this to heart and realize that one ruined heart is enough. 

My ruined heart was enough. And now it's healed. 

When Did Dating Die?

This is going to be a rant, an angry rant, and I'm sorry in advance. But I'm pissed and I feel like something was taken away from me and I never even knew it was there.

When I was a kid, I grew up in an incredibly old fashioned household. My mom and dad were highly legalistic, which sad to say, gave me a warped version of reality for a long time. My mom was like that the remainder of her life, and as much as I miss and love her, I disagree with probably 95% of how she thought about things. My dad, thankfully, evolved over time and a second marriage with a more liberal wife, and I can now talk to him on an adult level about things that he and I completely disagree on but can back up our views, and most of the time I can get him to at least see my side, even if he doesn't agree with it.

One of these things my parents were so particular about was dating. In my mom's own words, when someone asked her about if she was ready for me to have a boyfriend, was "No, there will be no boyfriends in this house. A man will come and ask her dad to court her." Yep. My mother's words. As a preteen/teen, I was terrified of this. I remember being in middle school and having a crush on a boy in my class, and I felt so embarrassed and so sad that I would never go out on a date because hello, what boy is actually going to ask my dad to date me? I have a memory of being in tears with my dad at about 15 years old because I was so upset that no boy was ever going to do that, and I'd never be allowed to have a boyfriend (in reaction to my step-sister who was two years younger than me "dating" a boy at church and having him actually be her boyfriend.) It turned out my dad never knew my mom had had that conversation with me and didn't understand why I was so upset.

Fast forward 3 years to when I actually had my first date and six months later actually being in a relationship. The relationship itself was a nightmare, but I remember both those first dates being so exciting. The question itself, the anticipation, my entire closet laying on my bed because I was so nervous about what to wear. As terrifying as it was, it was a little magical because it was so....old school. About two years after that, I was asked on a date by another boy, and regrettably I said no, but I can literally count on one hand the amount of times I have been actually asked on a date. Three. Three times, at 17, 18 and 20. And that was it. What happened? I've been in relationships since then, but they started with "hanging out" and then boom! We're a couple. What happened to "Hey, I'd really like to get to know you, so can we go on a date?" I've been on blind dates (not the same thing as they are set up by another person) and I've had situationships where we went on date-ish dates. But what happened to the good old fashioned ways of dating??

This boils down to so much more than who buys what, and what if he opens the car door or not, and the plethora of other "chivalrous" acts commonly expected by women. I've been a standalone independent woman for four years; opening or not opening a door for me is not a make or break issue anymore. I'm perfectly capable of that myself, thank you. (I am woman, hear me roar.) What it boils down to is when did we become a society so driven by sex that we forgot to get to know one another?

I started talking to a guy about a month ago. We met in a bar (my first mistake) and he asked for my number. To be honest, he caught me on a horrible day and I really was just out because I needed to not be at home by myself. No make up, in a shirt I normally slept in (I think I slept in it when I got home that night), my hair wasn't done and I just didn't give a flying rip that night. Yet that night of all night, some random guy actually approached me in a bar. I was flattered! And shocked. We communicated by text, small talk about movies and music. I started wondering if we'd ever meet up, or if he'd ever ask me on a date. Then he asked, "What turns you on?" Seriously?! I don't know you. I've met you once, barely remember what you look like. Yet thats what you freaking ask me? I made up some BS about people being rude (refusing to be physical) and left it at that. His next question was if I wanted to go out on Saturday night. Ugh. I blocked his number and definitely didn't "go out" on Saturday night.

So that's where we're at in society now. In the days of Tinder, eHarmony, "sexting" and every number of impersonal apps and websites, we have somehow become a society that asks for dates after we ask for the condoms. Its appalling. Its disgusting. For the first time in my life, I actually have come to believe that technology has ruined something that once was fun and potentially beautiful. Texting and emailing are nice, and they allow for some personal communication. But somewhere in there, the façade of sex being merely a physical act to get to know someone became reality, and has now become the focus of the dating world. Of my friends who are married, engaged or seriously dating, I can name about five who got to know each other first via dating, and can't even place a number that were one night stands turned into a "fairytale." Media is to blame for some of it, but lowering standards has a lot to do with it too. In a world where everyone is so afraid of actually getting to know each other, those of us with old souls and our "prudish" standards might as well give up on dating. Dating, has in fact, died.

A song recently released, that when I first heard the words I fell in love. Then I realized it was true and now it's pretty sad. "...space is just a word made up by someone who's afraid to get too close." We now live in a society where we're afraid to get to close, so we look for space. Space comes in all sorts of forms: cell phones, Facebook, Instagram, email, texting, Tinder. We're afraid to pierce through the superficial barrier that has entered our society and we can hide everything about ourselves that makes us....us.

Screw you society for ruining dating and intimacy. Screw. You.

"When I was a stranger and you did not welcome me..."

Lets talk about immigration, probably the one and only topic that will get me fired up at the drop of a hat. You want to talk about politics? Lets talk politics.

In this last weekend the ignorance of the American people has driven me up a wall. What frustrates me is this: The ultra right-winged, conservative republicans stand strongly against immigration. The majority of American Christians identify themselves as at least conservatives or republicans.

Here are just some of the things that caught my eye on my newsfeed just today:

• Governors are refusing sanctuary to Syrian refugees, as they should be. Take care of our homeless first before we take care of theirs.
• Donald Trump: We will send them back, we will send them back. We will make this a country again. Right now, we don't have a country.
• A facebook comment of a friend: I'm all for taking in the impoverished, but there needs to be a system in place to filter out the good ones from the bad ones before we let them in. 
• It is the churches responsibility to take care of the orphaned and the hungry, but not our governments (written on a conservative website in response to the Bible's clear expectations of how to handle immigrants. 
• One of them helped bomb Paris, they are dangerous and we are inviting war into our country. 

I'm going to take these one by one, with my personal opinion, but also what I have really thought and prayed about. This topic is so sad that we even have to think about. 

Governors are refusing sanctuary to Syrian refugees, as they should be. Take care of our homeless first before we take care of theirs

Living in a large city, I am no stranger to the homeless problem in this country. However, I'm also very aware that there are several resources for them to be able to get help, education, and a job. In the city of Seattle alone, there is more than one helping institution. One to note is catered toward food. They are taken in, trained in basic food service, provided food safety certifications, and then hold special events so they can earn some money and tips. The organization is collaborative with several restaurants that employ the graduates of this program, and other organizations that help find homes and a stable income and environment. That is just one example. Bottom line? There are resources. It's not JUST up to us to help, it's up to them to want to be helped. These people literally fled their country in fear of being murdered, and are seeking shelter. And who ever said it was a permanent solution or help? If we were fleeing, I would pray another country with a homeless problem would welcome us in. Whats going to happen if we are taken over from the inside out and flee? Who is going to take in the over-entitled Americans? 

Donald Trump: We will send them back, we will send them back. We will make this a country again. Right now, we don't have a country.

Guess what?! Neither do they! And I hope one of them squashes your oversized, pompous head and you go back to the sad sorry hole you came from. Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries. 

Okay, that was my "Trump" outburst of the day. But seriously. Neither. Do. They. Is this a good time to bring up the "We actually took this country from the Indian tribes, so we shouldn't even have a country" speech? We as Americans promise the "American dream" - but only if you have lots of money to pay for a citizenship and pass all our tests and learn to speak the language and pay your way in. Yet we let people cheat our systems all the time to pay for their new cars. Again, bottom line, we have a relatively safe home we call our country, and they have no where to go. 

A facebook comment of a friend: I'm all for taking in the impoverished, but there needs to be a system in place to filter out the good ones from the bad ones before we let them in.

1) A "system" such as the one so ignorantly placed is faulty. Even if there actually are ISIS affiliates in there, how would we know? The screening would take months, people would starve, and terrorism around the world would still exist. This is a problem NOW. 

2) THEY are people, living breathing human beings who have been displaced, widowed and/or orphaned by a terrible force and they are literally fleeing for their lives. Most of them have a satchel with all their belongings. So while these types of statements are being thrown around on Facebook from your iPhone or computer, while sipping your latte in your cozy home counting down the days until Christmas, they are fighting to survive. And quite bravely, I might add, as they are now facing opposition from all around the world. 

It is the churches responsibility to take care of the orphaned and the hungry, but not our governments (written on a conservative website in response to the Bible's clear expectations of how to handle immigrants.

This one may be the one that bothers me the most, as I somewhat agree with it, but also disagree. I don't know the person who posted this comment. However, I know people who agree with it. And they are the same people who were so strongly opposed to the legalization of same-sex marriage because this is a "Christian nation", yet the church should handle taking care of it but the government shouldn't? Uh... let me get this straight: We shouldn't allow same-sex couples to get married because we are a Christian nation, where we have a constitution that clearly defines a separation of church and state and the freedom of religion, yet the government shouldn't take care of the refugees but the church should??? HOW THE CRAP DOES THAT MAKE ANY SENSE?!?! Seriously, I actually am open to having this one explained to me, because I don't understand a mindset that uses one argument to justify something and the exact opposite to justify something different. Help me understand. 

One of them helped bomb Paris, they are dangerous and we are inviting war into our country.

Yep. A terrorist in Paris was found with a passport near his body that proved he had been in Syria months before and traveled by boat to Paris. So of course, the logical conclusion is that ALL Syrians are terrorists and ALL of them are going to have an agenda, and they aren't actually fleeing they're actually invading. Yep, logic. Thank you Mr. Spock. 

Let's look at this real fast: In 1998, there were nearly 550,000 estimated gang members in the United States. 34% were African American, 46% were Hispanic, 12% were Caucasian and 6% were Asian (1998 Gang Research). Clearly we have violence in this country already. Albeit, not violence trying to take over the country, but violence that kills innocent lives every single year. We have a penal system that is overcrowded. And we have murderers, serial killers and sociopaths that are still on the loose. But we're turning away women and children because we're afraid some of them may be terrorists. And if we're truly looking at ISIS, sorry to break it to you, but we already have some of them on our soil. It makes no difference if there are or aren't any hiding in the Syrian refugees. 

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Here is the thing. My 100% firm belief is that we are supposed to be Christlike in all we do, whether it's opening our boarders to homeless refugees or sharing the gospel with the homeless down the street. Several times in the gospels, Jesus says not to turn people away, or not to judge, or even not to fear. This verse really stuck out to me about this subject. Yes, the context is that we should be welcoming of Jesus, but as his followers, aren't we also supposed to be exhibiting Christ-like love that treats others as Christ would have? In Matthew 25, Jesus tells the story of the servant who buried his coin in the sand rather than multiplying it like the other servants. He then explains that when God comes down on the day of judgement, there will be some on his right and some on his left. 

"'But when the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit upon his glorious throne. All the nations will be gathered in his presence, and he will separate the people as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will place the sheep at his right hand and the goats at his left.

“Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the Kingdom prepared for you from the creation of the world. For I was hungry, and you fed me. I was thirsty, and you gave me a drink. I was a stranger, and you invited me into your home. I was naked, and you gave me clothing. I was sick, and you cared for me. I was in prison, and you visited me.’
“Then these righteous ones will reply, ‘Lord, when did we ever see you hungry and feed you? Or thirsty and give you something to drink? Or a stranger and show you hospitality? Or naked and give you clothing? When did we ever see you sick or in prison and visit you?’
“And the King will say, ‘I tell you the truth, when you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters,you were doing it to me!’
“Then the King will turn to those on the left and say, ‘Away with you, you cursed ones, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his demons. For I was hungry, and you didn’t feed me. I was thirsty, and you didn’t give me a drink. I was a stranger, and you didn’t invite me into your home. I was naked, and you didn’t give me clothing. I was sick and in prison, and you didn’t visit me.’
“Then they will reply, ‘Lord, when did we ever see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and not help you?’
“And he will answer, ‘I tell you the truth, when you refused to help the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were refusing to help me.’
“And they will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous will go into eternal life.'"
- Matthew 25:31-46 NLT

I realize Jesus has already come, and that he won't be coming again until who knows when (please God let it be soon!), but what if....what if it were Jesus fleeing with the refugees? Weren't Mary and Joseph in fact refugees on the night Herod planned on killing them? What if that last inn keeper hadn't even offered the stable to them? What if Jesus were a refugee and we denied him into this country because we don't want to deal with more immigrants? How would that make you feel, know you turned away the Son of God away because your foreign policy didn't allow for it? We should be seeing Jesus in all the faces that are turning to this supposed "Christian" nation, and showing them Jesus through our actions. What are they experiencing instead? Adversity. Hate. Prejudice. What if that were Jesus? 

I just want to challenge us as a church, as a nation, as some random person reading this.... think of who these people as a whole...not just as one or two or even 10,000 that may be trying to kill for the sake of killing. Think of the children and women who have lost husbands, brothers, fathers, sons...It's so wrong for a nation that stands on it's sturdy "Christian" values to turn away what Jesus himself was at the beginning of his life.

“And he will answer, ‘I tell you the truth, when you refused to help the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were refusing to help me.’" (Matt 25:45)

*** I want to be clear why I put Christian in quotations so often. I myself am a firm believer and follower of Jesus. However, I do not believe this country is a nation founded on Christian values. I believe it is a nation that has a diverse way of thinking, and we have since the beginning of our founding. But the basis of many arguments is that we shouldn't do this or that because we are a "Christian" nation. Which seems to me a very invalid argument. 

Lifetimes

I don't know who actually reads this. I'm not sure anyone except for a computer somewhere does, and even then I don't think it actually reads it. I write mainly because I have a lot to say and a lot on my mind but don't want to waste anyone's time by telling them everything on my mind; I talk enough as it is.

When I look back on my life, I've had a lot going on. I've seen a lot of things, experienced a lot (both good and bad) and have had a great deal of both excitement and disappointment. But when I look back, it can often feel like lifetimes have passed since event-x happened. This week has definitely been one of those times.

I lived in the same place for 26 years. Moved around in two cities specifically, changed addresses, moved out on my own, etc. But I never moved away. Until one day I decided enough was enough and got the heck out of dodge. That was only four months ago.

I finally got the chance to go back and visit this last week. I think in the back of my mind I expected that I was the exact same person that left and that of course, everyone else had stayed the same and nothing back home had changed. Time had stopped in a preverbal freeze and I'd walk off the plane and jump right back into my old life - just to visit, of course.

Even on the first day I felt the change. What were once friendly interactions and exchanges between close friends almost felt awkward, even conversing with my parents seemed strained to an extent - not because we weren't getting along, but because we didn't know how to act around each other. There were literally only two people that I fell back into the swing of things with and felt truly at home. The rest of the week, I felt like a stranger in another persons body.

I've felt this at other points of my life, normally after something traumatic. It was only fourteen years that I lost my mom, but maybe because I was so young, it feels like a lifetime ago. I have no clue who that twelve year old was because she was a completely different person than I am sitting here writing this today. High school....man, high school feels like both yesterday and also (yep, you guessed it) a lifetime ago.

I don't know how to explain this feeling if you haven't felt it. It's like the movie "Freaky Friday" I guess. It's like I woke up when I got off the plane and was a completely different person that left just four months ago. It hasn't even been a year! A year ago I was just trying to figure out how to finish school. And then here I am now, living a thousand miles away from where I grew up...and I feel like I've changed completely without even realizing it or planning on it. It just happens I guess.

We as humans have one lifetime to live. Years may seem like lifetimes, or they may seem like the blink of an eye as well. But I hope at the end of our actual lifetime we can look back on all the "lives" we've lived, or personas we've acquired and can see the good in it.

To Be an American

As I write this, I'm currently watching "We Were Soldiers." If you've never watched this movie, you need to stop whatever you're doing and go watch it right now.

My generation has never truly known war. Yes, we were children when the war happened in the early 1990s, and again after 9/11. We were older then. I remember the day we declared war on Iraq and deployed the first troops. I was in 8th grade, but I didn't truly understand it. I'm not here to share my opinion on the ongoing war that has been happening overseas; to be completely honest, I have no opinion on it.

I've never been one to delve into politics. I have many friends who sway strongly one way or another; Republican versus Democrat, Conservative versus Liberal, etc. But I've never held strong opinions either way. In all honesty, I hate confrontation so I choose to keep my mouth shut most of the time unless it's a subject I have fully researched and have an educated opinion on. I refuse to argue unless I truly understand what I'm arguing about, and I challenge everyone else the same.

When I watch war movies like this one, or "Pearl Harbor" or any other movie, there is an overwhelming sense of patriotism. Even toward the war in Vietnam, a war that we fought on foreign soil to protect the rights and freedom of people who were not Americans, many in the country agreed, many did not. But there was still no sense of not being an American.

What I'm seeing in my home nation, on my own soil, breaks my heart more than the thought of seeing my friends, family and loved ones go off to fight in a foreign land. The politics they fought for were noble, courageous and valiant. They were soldiers. Yes, Hollywood paints a romanticized version of what happened, capturing the essence, but not the reality, of what happened in those days.

What I see in my own country are people who fight for or against petty differences. I'm not discounting some of the "politics" of these things. I'm not saying don't stand up for what you believe in. But do it in a way in which you are not attacking your fellow American.

A few weeks ago, the Supreme Court legalized gay marriage in all 50 states. This was a decision we've seen coming for years, a decision some dreaded, a decision some waited breathlessly for. Some celebrated because they believed fully in their cause, some fought back by supporting what they thought was an appropriate response, but ultimately it was a symbol of discrimination and hatred. What saddened me the most was that this response came from mostly Christians. If being a pacifist is the worst label you can give me, then so be it. But what was once a symbol of hatred and discrimination in this country was becoming a symbol of "patriotism." I'm sorry, but using something that was used to declare yourself a "free-southerner" or a fight against the Civil Rights movement of the 1960s is no symbol of patriotism.

From a Christian standpoint, I firmly believe we are called to a higher standard of response to such decisions. Christ came in peace. He came to give a grieving world hope. Yes, he had his moments of anger, such as in the tabernacle with the tax collectors. But he spoke love and kindness. "[Let him who has no sin cast the first stone.]" So how can we honestly as Christians be comfortable using such strong anger and hatred to fight against what we believe is not the right way? How can we set an example for what we're fighting so hard against by invoking so much hatred? And yes, I call it hatred because I've heard people in my own circle, my own family, call people who are gay "disgusting," "abominations." How can we claim to love a God who wanted us to love others and turn around and say these things? I'll give my honest opinion on the rulings. I don't agree with gay marriage, but I still love the people who are gay. I do not believe that "being gay" is a choice. I've known several gay men and women who are devout Christians that believe they are called to something higher than their sexual orientation; that their one struggle in life is what brings them closer to God. No, I do not believe some choose to be gay. I think the media popularizes it and gives some people the feeling of entitlement to be an activist. I believe some celebrities flaunt it to keep the limelight on them. But I also believe there are thousands of other men, women and even children and teens who are desperate to be loved by a God that Christians have made them believe they never can be. As Christians, we have failed them by not showing them the love they so desperately need, and instead, making them feel as though they are not worthy of that love.

That's not the direction I wanted this to go, but this is something I feel so strongly about. I open my Facebook feed, my lifeline to friends and family back home, and with in five minutes I'm disgusted, angry, and appalled by what I see. I want nothing more than to break away from social media, but the fact that I wouldn't stay in contact with nearly half my friends without it is what keeps me on. Social media has played its part. Sites that were once intended to keep people connected have now turned to sites where strangers tear each other apart.

My question is this: Is all the dissension worth it? In the end, what will be gained? A more "Christian" nation? A more justified state of mind? Or will we continue to be a country divided by differences, differences that - although they may be matters of morality - are dividing our country little by little. My fear is this: is that we are not fighting against tyranny or oppression, but against freedom itself at this point. By God's own purpose and plan, we as humans are given the choice of free will. Our country gives its citizens a safe harbor that other nations would gladly die for. But we toss it to the wind like it's yesterdays news. We take it so for granted that by now, we are fighting over our freedoms. We can not change the minds of people, but we can influence it. But to what means? The division of Republicans versus Democrats, Liberals versus Conservatives resembles the beginning stages of what our young nation saw when the South succeeded  from the North, causing the greatest war on American soil our country has ever seen. Are we nearing that fine line? Are our arguments, differences, opinions worth it?

One of the most riveting scenes from "We Were Soldiers," the one that brings me to tears each and every time has to do with the female characters of the story. After the first wave hits and many soldiers are killed, the main character, the colonels wife, sees a taxi delivering the first telegram to a fallen soldiers wife. When he comes to her door, she expects the worst. However, he can't find the address, and figures she is the best resource for this information. After harsh words toward him at first, she realizes that as her husband is leading the troops in Vietnam, she should be leading the wives at home. She then takes it upon herself in the next few minutes to deliver the telegrams herself. She knows these women, sees them at tea and church every week. Ultimately, it brings them together, and the wives become  part of the patriotism. I think this scene gets me so much because of the bravery to do the impossible. She is fighting for her country, just as much as her husband is. She isn't fighting against it.

America has lost its sense of what is important. Are political differences really worth alienating those who need freedom the most? Stand up for what you believe in, yes. But do it in a way that makes others see your point, not see you as ignorant or bigoted. Fight for what is worth fighting for, not just to fight.

At the end of the movie, the reporter - the narrator - informs that those sent to Vietnam to die didn't go from a sense of duty, they went because their country wanted them to. They didn't fight for their country, they fought for each other, to keep each other safe - regardless of race, religion or political agenda. They were brothers-at-arms.

Be an American. Stop fighting against one another. Stand for freedom.

Better Fit for Preschool

To the man sitting in my place of employment today, somehow you managed to ruin an already terrible day. That takes skill, guts and a sense of superiority so low that you were willing to throw it at me with no thought to how your action would be taken.

Today started with problems. And then they started piling up. They started adding quick, and without a strong leader in the building, the entire day would have gone to hell. You didn't see the three new people I had working on my shift, you didn't see the two shelves of product fall on my employees heads, you didn't see all of us running around working as fast as we could to get our business through. No, you saw only 30 seconds of my day and decided to judge my entire career on those 30 seconds.

There was a man sitting next to you who was sleeping in our lobby, something that is completely against policy. Our policy is also to ask the person to wake up, let them know the policy and then ask them to leave if they further refuse to comply. That's my job to make sure they do, not yours. I politely woke him up, asked him to wake up or leave, explained the policy to him when he argued, and told him I would be asking him to leave if he continued to sleep. As I walked away from him, already frustrated with the way things are going, you simply made it worse. You didn't even have the guts to tell me to my face what you thought, you said it under your breath while I passed, I'm sure assuming that I wouldn't stop and confront you about it.

"Wow, you're better fit to manage a preschool than run this place." To which I asked you to repeat it and you did, this time looking me in the eye. You didn't defend me, like a patron should to another customer who is causing a disturbance...No, instead you attacked me. You proceeded to tell me, verbatim, "You clearly don't know how to kick someone out of here correctly, I don't know what you think you're doing managing people." Then you proceeded to tell me that you had no tolerance for such things and that if it had been you, you would have told him to leave, not given him a second chance. Well sir, that's your company policy, not mine.

What was in your words was a whole slew of other things. By implying I should be working with children rather than "people," you are attacking me as a woman, assuming that instead of being capable of managing a team, I should be working with children. So much was hidden in that meaning alone. As a woman, I deal with sexism constantly, but you sir, had no business talking to me like I'm inferior and have no real sense of leadership because I'm a woman.

In those few seconds in which you doubted my entire existence, you left me doubting my entire purpose. I've been in leadership many, many years, and like everyone else, I have my opportunities, and I still have a lot of learning to do. I'm sorry that I was "tolerant" of a situation you thought I should have been forceful with, but that is the policy I know and stand by, and I will make no apology that you found it (or me) to be "soft" or "weak."

What bothers me the most, aside from treating me like I'm an inferior child, was that you validated what the other customer was doing by invalidating me. By calling me out in front of the customer I was trying to take care of, you made it impossible for him to respect me enough to leave peacefully. Why would he listen to me when you, a policy abiding customer, was verbally questioning me, making me look like a weak, disrespect-worthy manager?

So thank you, again sir, for making me question what I do, how I do it, and why I do it. I really do hope that the next time you feel the need to judge everything about someone's leadership style by a thirty second interaction that indeed, had absolutely nothing to do with you and your leadership style, please, keep the words in your head where they belong. If that is truly how you feel, then I am truly sorry for you sir. I am truly sorry you live in such a small world that you feel the need to put people in their place, degrade inferiors and raise yourself up by bringing everyone else down.

Waiting And Seeing

When I was in my senior year of high school, I came across a quarter at Savemart that clearly had a "W" on one side and an "8" on the other...W8...or rather...."wait..." This became my motto over the next year, as I thought this had been a sign from God and an answer to prayer regarding something I was facing at the time. It was a clear sign to wait on God.

Looking back on that now, it's silly, yet, strangely still true. I waited...and boy did I see. I saw what God was protecting me from. And after years of waiting, I can finally see what God was leading me toward.

The week of 9/11 changed me, as it changed the whole world. My parents and I were sitting in a hotel in Vancouver, WA when the planes hit and the whole world changed. I was twelve years old, old enough to know the world wasn't safe, not old enough to know what shattered dreams looked like. We went to Seattle two days later, and I immediately felt at home. I remember turning to my dad and saying "Dad, when I grow up I'm going to live here. And I'm going to work for Starbucks." Oh the dreams of a child...

Yet, here I sit in my half boxed up apartment, no wall-hangings and packing peanuts on the floor. Its another late night of packing and cleaning and preparing. A month from today, I'll be sitting in my apartment in Seattle, three days into my new job...nearly 14 years after saying those words to my dad. Somehow at twelve years old, I knew what I wanted more than I thought I did at 18.

Psalm 46:10 says to "Be still and know that I am God..." So many times in my life, I have been "still" and waited for God to move...and then thinking that God couldn't possibly mean something else than what I was asking him for, I acted too abruptly and either found myself in a world of hurt or a world of "oops." As a maturing adult and Christian, I have come to recognize when something is God or when it's not. And learning that being still means being active in prayer, yet still in action.

When this whole Seattle adventure started this time, it really was quite unexpected. Lets back up to March. I started a 70 day coffee fast in regard to another dream I thought I had "waited" on God long enough for, and thought that fasting for it, God would surely grant it. I set it up so my fast would end on the day I landed at Sea-Tac, and waited for the flood gates to open. Even looking back just two months ago to when this was, I don't know what I thought would happen. But whatever it was, wasn't happening.

What I can tell you that did happen, was as soon as my feet hit the tarmac, I took a deep breath, looked around and thought, quite not of my own will, "well, I'm finally home." I didn't think much of it at the time, but the more and more I explored the city and talked to people and experienced the landscape, it really did begin to feel more and more like "home," a concept that, much to my disappointment, I've never ever felt in the Valley.

When I left Seattle, I started to formulate a 2-year plan of how to get finances in order, get done with school, and move up when I was "stable and ready." The day after I came home, I got the call from my cousin that there was an opportunity for me to move up. I started the ball rolling by talking to my boss and looking into transferring. After that, literally every ball has fallen into place.

Now, that's what I call waiting. I had long forgotten this was a dream of mine. Dreams of far off places, a husband and kids, and so many other dreams along the way have taken root in my heart, and I truly forgot I even had this dream. Yet here it is, and I couldn't be more content.

If I've learned one thing in this whole thing, its that specific prayer is REAL. It WORKS! Now, does that mean that because you pray specifically that it will always come to pass and God will bless it? Nope, not saying that at all. BUT....from the moment that a seemingly impossible situation began to seem possible, I felt from that moment that it was what I was supposed to be doing. So I prayed specifically for wisdom and a clear and open door; and it was there. Then I started job hunting, and prayed specifically for a job in coffee. Who are the only companies I heard back from? Coffee companies. Then I started interviewing, and I prayed specifically for Starbucks to work out, and that they would be able to match my pay (or better), offer benefits sooner than the normal year, and that I'd be able to be near my house. Every single thing I prayed specifically for? Done and done, check check.

There is no part of my being that believes I did this...no, I, Liz Doss, did not create this perfect plan and work everything into place. My charisma and past achievements did not get me this job. There is only one way that everything worked out literally perfectly...because there is only one perfect being, and that is God. In my wildest dreams, I couldn't have asked for this situation to be the way it is....When God says he will provide "[peace that surpasses all understanding,]" he's not joking...he's serious. Because he's God. Hello.

While there is no doubt in my mind that I am doing what's right, I of course have my moments of doubt and panic. The "what if's" start outweighing the truths. My biggest fear is the other dreams in my heart...what if I'm giving up on those because I'm taking this step toward another? What if I'm making the biggest mistake of my life? What if it doesn't work out once I'm there? What If I'm really supposed to be here instead? What if what I've been looking for has been in front of me this whole time and if I go to Seattle, what if I truly give it up for good? What if instead of taking a once in a lifetime chance, I'm missing the chance of a lifetime?

But then I remember Psalm 37:4, "Delight yourself also in the Lord, and He will give you the desires and secret petitions of your heart" (AMP.) Serving coffee in Seattle was the secret petition of my heart, the desires are yet to come. Only He knows what I truly desire and want in my life.

I have peace in my heart that I am finally done waiting. And that my dreams are finally coming true. I am finally beginning my life. And I have never been this excited and at peace than I am in this moment. And I'm so excited to see what He does next.