It Was All Yellow...

     I wasn’t quite sure how I would approach you today.

     Time has passed. So much time has passed. And I always struggle with how to gently lead you into my process.

     Because -- as we all know, process can be untidy, messy, beautiful, horrible but nevertheless always, always necessary.

     And I’ve dodged, bobbed and weaved (woven?) my way through writing this post, because I knew I was going to be honest.

     I still have a bit of trepidation, even after writing to you for over 10 years, but alas, here we are – and here I go…

     I remember the exact day I heard the song “Yellow” by Coldplay.

     I don’t even remember fully digesting the lyrics, but I first heard the song with the music video. And I was captivated. It all seemed to make sense.

     Like—that song made my life make sense.

     I know.

     That’s such a strange thing to say. But it was true for me.

     The mood and tone of the song carried this beautiful and sad longing, and yet, there was utter contentment, even in the midst of a reaching forward.

     It’s like when you see someone across the room, and they are so striking and intriguing. And yet, it’s not fully their look, but also their demeanor and the quiet stillness they posses.

     Within that moment, there are feelings of vulnerability, strength, love, adoration, admiration but mostly curiosity.

     I found myself last summer staring at someone in such a way as to not get caught.

     He reminded me of the song “Yellow”.

     And I thought to myself, isn’t it beautiful and wonderful that there are still unseen people on the planet that emerge at such a time in our lives, to simply show us that flowers still bloom.

     And then this year happened.

     I moved back to my hometown.

     And in certain ways, it felt as if everything was moving backwards.

     And then I thought, oh, this new guy is potentially pursing me – but rather beautifully friend zoned me. And I humbly curtseyed my way out of the room, and licked my wounds.

     And then the world seemed to fall apart:

     Violence, deaths, cries, shouts, injustice, ignorance, and a cloak of what could only be labeled as “a hopeless situation” according to all of our news outlets.

     And at the same time, we were all yearning for a little bit more tenderness.

     But the reprieve wouldn’t come just yet…

     In May, something seemingly random happened to me.

     My “permanent” retainer of 20 years on the lower portion of my teeth, popped out of place.

     The next day, I simply went to have it completely removed – although the orthodontist tried to convince me that my teeth would shift horribly, and that I should contemplate getting another retainer as soon as possible.

     But little did they know, I’m at the age where I think crooked teeth are hot and endearing. Sooo, there’s that.

     But the next morning, when I woke up, I felt extremely nauseous and had a bit of vertigo. It was such a strange feeling. Not like anything I had felt before. I immediately thought…”Hmm, I wonder if that was some heavy metal residue?....” But then I shook it off.  And the sensation faded after a few hours. I simply thought… “I guess that was it.”

     But fast forward to a normal Wednesday about a week and a half later, when I go to country line dance – Now if that statement comes as a surprise, let me say a quick hello and hi – Ha! And yes, I frequently country line dance. I know, I can barely believe it either – but I loves it and can’t imagine not doing it…but let us continue with the story...

     So as soon as I got into my favorite dance hall place, the right side of my body felt as though I couldn’t move it completely, and I was having a hard time articulating my words (more than normal…) – I thought I might've been dehydrated, so I ordered some water.

     The water helped, but the right side of my body still felt WEIRD. But I was stubborn, and I chose to dance anyway.

     I didn’t tell anyone that I was feeling like I might be having a stroke, instead-- my way of dealing with the scare and shock was to simply dance it out.

     I know, it sounds so stupid.

     It gets even dumber.

     I then ordered my cocktail favorite of a rum and ginger beer. I thought somehow that would calm me down. And it did. But my mind was still boggled. I kept thinking, what is going on with my body??

     I danced using my core to stabilize me, but it took so much concentration.

     But I didn’t pass out, and I took that as a victory.

     I was able to drive home and the next day I woke up, hoping that it was all some weird nightmare, but instead, my right leg and foot didn’t feel completely connected to my body. And then I began to have crazy muscle twitches all over my arms and legs.

     The whole time, I was thinking, “Wow, is this how it all ends…? I mean, is this going to be my story? And I never even got married or had sex…”

     Oh. Did that statement surprise you?

     If it didn’t, and you simply said, “Ohhhhh, Ha.Ha. that’s just classic Patrice…”

     Then you already know about my “Unicorn” post.

     If you have no idea what I mean by my “Unicorn” post – Pause this blog post right now and go here: T.M.I. 

     But back to our story at hand, so as I woke up that morning feeling stranger than ever, I tried to recount all of my movements, what I ate, who I was around, anything and everything to account for my right side acting like an outlander – and then I did what you are NEVER suppose to do when you have weird body symptoms: I Googled WebMD.

     NOPE. NOPE. NOPE.

     Please don’t do it.

     Public Service Announcement: Go to your own doc first, before jumping to any conclusions.

     I know you think I’m a pillar of faith and strength, but when your body starts doing things outside of your control, you learn where you faith truly is.

     And I was scared out of my mind.

     A good friend of mine convinced me to head over to my local urgent care facility to make sure, I didn’t have a small stroke.

     Now let me preface…

     The word that I felt impressed upon my spirit for 2018 was REST.

     It was a word I felt that God was speaking directly to my soul.

     And yet, prior to all this, I had turned 2018 into a high octane fuel machine, as I tried to figure out how to run a brand new small business, continue my television freelance work, volunteer, weekly dancing, trying to keep up a semblance of my friendships, and all that southern California commuting.

     Needless to say, I was working about 18 hours a day with little to no sleep and barely eating.

     And yet, our culture values the “Hustle”, but in the midst, God was constantly asking me to work from a place of REST.  I know, I see the irony in this as well.

     I want to make sure you see the full picture. Because before my body had this breakdown of sorts, my stress level was the highest it’s ever been, as I was putting pressure on myself beyond what I was meant to carry.

     Matthew 11:28 never sounded so good:

“Come to Me, all you who are weary…”

     And yet, I remember praying to God in this season, and crying out,

     “I don’t know how to stop. I just don’t know how to rest in the midst of what feels like purpose, mission, and calling. Show me how. I want to know how. Truly.”

     And then of course, I quickly continued going at the frantic pace I had been running at for so long.

     On the outside, you might not have known anything different.

     But my insides were churning. My neck and shoulders were as hard as rocks. And my mind was racing at night. It wasn’t a terrifying tension; believe it or not, I was full of excitement of all the ideas that I could possibly implement in my small business. And yet, I never turned it off. I never fully trusted that God would do the “above and beyond” portion and I could do the remainder in a peaceful and restful state. I felt invincible and had to charge ahead. Simultaneously, I also felt pretty darn autonomous and that I could somehow maintain this pace forever.

     And then my metal retainer popped.

     And here we are back into our previous story.

     I had lost control of my body.

     And everything felt out of control.

     And then my anxiety kicked up.

     I was partially afraid to go to urgent care, because I didn’t know if I was prepared for a bad report. 

     But I mustered up the little bit of courage I had left and went.

     Meanwhile, my mom was a rock. Before I left to go, she looked at me with her gentle eyes, smiled, and said, matter-of-factly, “I know you’re fine. You’re okay.” And went about her merry way.

     And all the tests proved that I was.

     I was fine.

     The current science said so.

     But I still felt weird. And my body still didn’t feel like my own.

     And nope, I hadn’t had a stroke. Thank God.

     And so then I went home.

     Full of temporary peace, but mostly anxiety.

     I had no real answers.

     And the right side of my body was still weak and weird.

     So I decided to Google my symptoms again.

     Just don’t ever do this.

     Please. For the sanity of yourself and all who love you.

     But I had a light bulb moment in the midst of my searching. And I forced myself to stop.

     I realized I was looking for “information” to give me peace and a sense of control. And that I was somehow starting to worship information.

     When in actuality, I needed an encounter and reassurance from the ultimate Prince of Peace: Jesus.

     The Fruit of the Spirit is: Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Faithfulness, Gentleness, and Self-Control.  

     Rewind.

     Peace.

     And Who is the Word made flesh? Yes. Jesus.

     The one Who calmed the waves of a raging sea.

     “Peace, be still.”

     I needed something—No. Someone beyond the laws of nature to become real Peace to me.

     It’s funny what gets exposed when you have to slow down.

     Rushing had become a means to suppress the fears that I had brought into this new season:

     Would God truly be kind to me? How would I take care of my loved ones in the future? Why does the world seem so overwhelmed with pain and grief in this particular season of life? Why do I feel so helpless? God are you really there? Knowing about heaven, why am I still so afraid to die? And I don’t know if I’ve ever truly forgiven you God for taking my Dad to heaven before he could even meet my future husband…

BOOM.

Yeah.

That.

     In all my rushing and doing and trying to become a success, I was running away from these heavy weighted, crushing questions. And there would be no way that I could move forward in love, life, and vocation pulling these weights steadily behind me--by way of my heart and neck.

     To note, these revelations of my ‘rushing unrest’ have only just been revealed to me in the last week. But day by day, I would sense just a little bit more peace. Some days, I had to push a little to truly feel it. Other days, I just sulked and brooded.

     And yet, day by day, I was starting to feel somewhat safe again.

     I didn’t need to be in control to feel safe.

     That was God’s job.

     God in His presence among us. And in His presence:

     “It was all Yellow.”

     It took about a month for my body to return to being 100%. With incredible prayer from my spiritual fam bam, to the help of an amazing chiropractor/holistic doctor-- we’ve gone to the ‘foundation’ of my body to bring forth incredible healing.

     Starting from the foundation upwards.

     And doesn’t that just parallel much of my spiritual journey in this season?

     My foundation had been replaced and become faulty.

     And true to character, God wanted to ‘restore my soul’ – in essence, my foundation and what I was truly leaning on.

     In that month of recovery, my emotions were all over the place, but I learned to practice work from a place of rest: God’s designated rest for me.

     I had to take multiple breaks – rest, sleep, eat (more than once a day…). I know it sounds funny, but it was a humbling experience. Previously, I was used to being a steam roller. Pressing forward at any cost, and clearly wreaking havoc on my body.

     But as I continued to get real, raw, and humble towards God, He would meet me every time.

     For example:

     Last weekend, I was ‘randomly’ watching “Hour of Power”, which I don’t normally do, and they just happened to be in this beautiful series titled, “You are Beloved” – And what is the name of that particular teaching in that series that I start to watch?

     “You Don’t Need to Hurry” 

      But of course.

     Then I go to church, and what is the sermon about?

     How Jesus wasn’t in a hurry.

     And being alone with God.

     Even with such great purpose and mission. Jesus was focused, yet relaxed in his purpose. Often the disciples would panic about something important, and Jesus’ response was never dictated by their anxiety or the frantic rush of the moment.

     Often Jesus’ response would be ever-so-chill or He would change the subject. Which I actually think is hilarious. (Read Mark 1:35-39 and tell me that Jesus didn’t bob and weave, in responding to: “Everyone is looking for you!”)

     But even more so, observing the moments where Jesus would go away and pray in solitude.

     He always made time for that.

     Time.

     Time and space for Him to be alone with the Father.

     In this particular season of life, I’ve learned that God gives us all space.

     And in that space, we have the choice of either melting into it. Which involves a surrender and giving up of control (And often inconveniences us). Or we can fill it with our own manufactured peace – in my case, work and cupcakes and anything else with tons of sugar, for others, it’s a different type of addiction.

     I thought I was getting away with my current underlying mindset and thought life. But most of you are savvy enough to know that thoughts do actually hold a frequency and significant real estate (thank you, quantum physics), especially in our souls.

     And there were certain thought patterns that were holding me in bondage. I had no way of removing the shackles on my own. In fact, I didn’t even really know I was in bondage.

     And isn’t that just the way it is sometimes.

     We don’t even know.

     Until something happens.

     And then we’re like, “What the heck is happening? Why am I responding like this??”

     But God knows.

     And once we get still.

     Once.

     We.

     Get.

     Still.

     He brings His peace.

     And it is the very peace we’ve been looking for all along.

     Feels like Yellow.

     And as I continue to wrestle and surrender, and surrender and wrestle, I remember that flowers still bloom.

     That the sun still shines.

     And Love still exists.

     And just because things happen slowly, doesn’t mean they’re not happening at all.

     There is something to be said for a foundation that is slowly being poured and laid down with such focus and purpose.

     Only then can it hold the weight of many, many storms--  of many hearts, of many dreams, and of many years.

     The story is not over.

     I’m finding that a seemingly long drawn out walk across the beach, may prove to be more purposeful and life changing than one might be led to believe.

     It might just lead us back home.

     To the place of safety, purpose--and rest.

Wisdom’s Knocking:

“Your skin

Oh yeah, your skin and bones

Turn into something beautiful

You know, you know I love you so

You know I love you so”

- “Yellow”, Coldplay

Guest Post: "Love Changes Things..." - Vanessa Chandler

     I know! It's been ages and ages, since I've updated you on my heart and my life. A majority of my energies have been directed towards my new small company, “Together Good Co.” – I cannot wait to share more with you. It’s kind of a big deal to my heart.

     God’s placed some new dreams in me, and I’m definitely here for the new adventure!

     For those that have been breathing hope and support over me via comments or follows on Instagram or Facebook, I’m sending you BIG KISSES right now! Thank you for dreaming with me!

     And yes, I have a crush again. And no he doesn’t live anywhere near me *all the eye rolls* -- But yes, I’m still country line dancing (Hashtag Helps to take the edge off the aggression. Haha. But for realssss) and I’m happily single until someone I love tries to kiss me on the mouth—on purpose.

     But something happened this week.

     Actually something happened in our time a part – Where God whispered to my soul:

     “It’s not if…It’s When…”

     And I’ve been resting in that since the end of March.

     I spend time praying for you, for me----for us. Especially those of us who are in the 30+ age range. For those that have been on a faith journey and single with purpose, albeit confusing and painful at times---I’m realizing more and more how beautiful and purposeful it all can be.

     I’m also learning that God wastes no pain. No tears are wasted on His chest.

     I can’t remember when Vanessa and I actually met. But it was years ago through mutual friends in Redding, CA.

     I’ve been tracking with her and praying for her ever since--even though I don’t think we’ve actually seen each other in person, since we’ve met.

     This week, as Prince Harry marries the American actress, Meghan Markle, it all feels very significant and somehow personal to me.

     (And yes, I’ll be watching the royal wedding live. Congrats to my beautiful friend, Ayanna, who will be singing in the choir at the wedding!)

     As I began to feel anticipation and excitement about this week,  and encouragement in the way of romance, I miraculously stumbled across Vanessa’s latest status update – (And I say miraculously, because ya’ll know that these Facebook Algorithms are full of sabotage, and I barely get updates from people that are outside of the last 5 people that spoke to me online…but I digress...)

     And then I read her update.

     And then I cried.

     And then I CRIED.

     And then I cried some more.

     And then I asked her if I could share this with you.

     And she said yes.

     So here we are.

     I’ll leave a link to Vanessa’s website at the end of her guest post, if you’d like to see more of who she is. (P.S.: She is a total boss babe).

     This guest post will be part one.

     And she’s agreed to expand on this again later this year.

     So yes, there will be a part TWO.

     I honestly think that this is one of thee most important blog posts I’ve ever had on my website, and I DIDN’T EVEN WRITE IT. Ha!

     If you’re single and over 30 – First of all – YOU LOOK GOOD!

     As I like to say, “The Lord is preserving your sexy…”

     And lastly, let me know in the comments or reply back to this email (I SEE you my beloved blog subscribers!) with one “highlight sentence” that either encouraged you, rocked your world, or blessed you.

     And of course I’ll share with you my highlights in the comments.

     Here’s my little wisdom nugget:

Wisdom’s Knocking:

“Whether you think you can, or you think you can't--you're right.” – Henry Ford

     And without further ado, enjoy Vanessa Chandler’s, “Love Changes Things…”

---

     If you would have asked me the goals and vision for my life five years ago at 34 years of age, I would have said, “Finish my first novel, create a successful company, travel, become a better journalist, be a positive catalyst for social justice through my writing ... and perhaps someday balance marriage and children IF I can still pursue my dreams and the man does not expect me to change who I am.”

     What a naive view. 

     Love does change things. What was I so afraid of? I did not understand that love fulfills ...

     The imaginings of childhood often fade as we get older. People inform us—from their own hurt—that we must not believe too much, hope too much. That fairy tales aren’t true and we need to be realistic about expectations. I think life does that all on its own. It doesn’t need our help to teach others about disappointment or pain.

     Where love was lost in childhood, where adulthood failed to meet expectations, where emotional heartache left a gaping chasm of need—love fulfills. And it goes a step beyond. A driving force in my life has been a need to prove that “I can and I will,” and to be significant. While I do believe that there is a God-given, healthy desire for significance, there is also a fine line between sanctified creativity and narcissism. It’s so easy for Creatives like me to become consumed with gaining attention or a platform under the guise of religious “spirituality” or for the good of all people.

     But love fulfills ... and strangely I’ve found that being emotionally fulfilled by romantic love has shifted my focus and killed my unhealthy drive to be known by the world and accomplished. I’ve slowly begun realize these past years that relationships are the most important thing to me. The glitter and temptation of filling your heart with other things fades away.

     I did not understand that love heals ...

     So many men have come and gone—friendships, crushes, dating. A bunch of “almosts,” “not quites,” “if only’s,” “perhaps,” and “Was I wrong to let him go’s?”

     A few of these experiences both in romantic and other forms of relationship, left me broken-hearted and afraid to risk my heart. But love heals ... Love is confident and it allows you to rest in its protective cradle of confidence. It surpasses all, sweeping past relationships to the side like a tidal wave of pure, liquid goodness.

     One thing I wish I had understood earlier in life is that this love has always been available to me through Jesus, but it took a tangible representation of His character, love, patience, kindness, long-suffering and goodness on earth for me to more fully grasp what love is. I know this is just the beginning of that understanding, and it’s breathtakingly beautiful.

     By now you are wondering who this “love of mine” is. But first I must give you context ...

     I had an experience one night of a full moon on the coast of Kenya when I was 17. I felt that God had created a man who would match me perfectly, yet I knew I’d have to wait for him. I never imagined that “waiting” meant 22 years and a full life of experience in joy and realized dreams, and also pain and heartache.

     With perfect timing an “and suddenly” came into my life unexpectedly in the form of an incredible man a little less than three months ago. Friends had arranged a party with the secret idea that we should meet ... I had zero expectation. He was just some “hot 36-year old German guy” who was visiting for a few months. 

     His name is Florian, which means “flowering.” I find that precisely accurate for how I feel—he is my flowering. It’s difficult to explain the many things I have grown to love about him, but he is incredibly intuitive about people, life situations and business. He enjoys going on adventures and being athletic like I do. His character is such that he’ll buy an album so music artists receive their dues, but then use Spotify. He seeks to honor, bless and spoil me daily by bringing me flowers, surprising me with an adventure, homemade lunch, dinner or dessert, asking how he can pray for me and support me, and things like deciding to take me to Rome this summer because I love art and history. (And yes, I’ll be in Germany for part of the summer!) As an engineer he likes to work with his hands and completely renovated his 100 year old historic home in Germany this past year.

     No one owns your story. Only you do. And by owning it, you take pride in it despite the sorrow that may have been along its path. This past year I processed whether or not I would be single the rest of my life, and whether I would ever be able to have children. I came to the conclusion that despite the disappointment, I would choose to be happy, never imagining that I would meet Florian just a few weeks later.

     To the women who are still waiting ... It’s never too late. Don’t settle for someone that is not perfect for you or whom you doubt. Don’t be afraid to let someone go if you’re not sure, or because you feel like you’re getting older. God will restore all that has been lost in your past, and give you more than you’ve prayed, ached and cried out for over the years.

     I have begun a new and glorious chapter in the pages of life that is far superior than I had imagined. Each and every day with Florian has left me in wonder as I learn more and more about him, and fall more in love with him. I often cry out of thankfulness for who he is and that he loves me too ... It’s worth the wait. It’s so much better than you can imagine! As a 39 year old woman, I am witness to this.

---

To learn more about Vanessa Chandler: http://redarrowmedia.com/team

Love + Pleasure

     We chase both.

     More so pleasure, thinking that it will lead us to love.

     But I’m finding that as I rest and receive the love I already have, there is great pleasure to be had there.

       Isn’t it funny, that when we hear the word pleasure, you're my mind goes directly to something with an erotic connotation.

     Because we think the shortcut to love is through pleasure.

     But alas, love looks like:

     And that’s what our hearts truly champion. We know deep inside, that those images of love capture the essence of our true home, and what we want our true selves to reveal.

     Love is also kind, generous, patient, not boastful nor prideful.

     And that is what makes our hearts feel the safest and known. We want those attributes extended to us, even if we aren’t capable or mature enough to display them to others.

     This is how we love children.

     Little people prone to the “Me, me, me” syndrome and outburst and tantrums in your local Target. But the most courageous of parents, choose to love them through it.

     And this is how we learn love.

     When it is first extended to us. Often when we least deserve it.

     “We love because He first loved us.” – 1 John 4:19

     But why, almost every time, and almost every day, we want to fall for the shortcut.

     It’s so tantalizing, with its promise of sweet caresses and tender slow kisses.

     But pleasure doesn’t equal love.

     And we were made for love.

     That is the sustaining force of the universe.

     God is love.

     He doesn’t just have it.

     He is it.

     It’s not just a chemical reaction.

     It is the electricity of our narrative.

     The hope in our tomorrow.

     The reason for our today.

     Do you know one quick sure fire way for me to fall out of like with a crush?

     When I see what he likes on Instagram.

     Please tell me you know about this feature! It will save you.

     Did you know that every photo you “like” and every person you follow is public knowledge on Instagram. In fact, there’s a whole tab dedicated to just that— seeing what pictures and accounts the people *you follow give “follows” and “likes” to in real time.  It’s right next to everyone’s “Activity” page in your profile.

     Yes. Even if your page is “Private”.  That information is never private to those that you’ve *allowed to follow you.

     I don’t make a habit of this--looking at that tab that showcases what new photos my friends like or folks they’ve decided to follow. But I do take a peek at it, when I have a crush on someone new that I don’t know.

     Because I’m like. Hmmm. Who are you? What kind of company do you keep? But are you nastyyy though?

     I choose to live my life pretty much like an open book. Plus, I’ve lived enough to know that nothing is truly private, and anything done in the dark will eventually come to light.

     With that said, I value honesty in a supreme way.

     I’ve always been mindful, honest, and aware that you can see all my Instagram post “likes” – And yes, those “likes” reflect much of who I am and what I like – with that said, I’m happy and unashamed to share each and every one of them with you.

     But I’ve noticed, that some of these guys that I’ve liked in the past, have had weird track records on social media.

     And I’m like, “Ohhh, so those are the types of photos that you’re “liking” every 10 minutes.  Interestinggg. So you’re following these types of social media accounts. Oooh. Okrrr. Um. Yeah…”

     Because then I start to realize, they are after pleasure solely and not really love.

     They may say they are ready for love, because yes, we are all made for love. But their actions state otherwise.

     They’re only ready to give on their current emotional maturity level.  They prove to only want a quick fix, or rather something to give them a quick ego pleasure stroke.

     But I’m out here trying to *not play games.

     And just like that, my crush feelings start to fade with a quickness.

     Because what really turns me on is integrity. You can be as hot as lava, we can have amazing chemistry, but if your character is shady…it’s gonna be a hard NOPE.

     I mean, what kind of husband are you ready to be?

     And what kind of dad are you hoping to be?

     Because you don’t just magically turn into a husband and a dad because you have the title.

     No, you metamorphose into those things, because you have the heart and the character to hold such a gift and sustain it.

     And let me clarify, that’s usually a heart with character that’s gone through some crazy trials and discipline (learning to say no…etc.) to appreciate love on a whole different level.

     So yes, we are made for love and to experience pleasure. But I’m learning the beautiful rhythms of how this actually plays out in our day-to-day lives.

     I’m also learning that love and pleasure together (*not soley of the sexual kind by the way ;) is better than pleasure just on its own.

     Some synonyms of pleasure just to refresh our minds:

•      Joy
•      Delight
•      Thrill
•      Luxury
•      Satisfaction
•      Contentment
•      Bliss

     So the next time you want to indulge yourself, whether online or in “real life” , just do a heart-check for me, -- will this particular compensation simply be a vapor— empty in the end, or will it lead you to something profoundly life-giving and beautiful that endures?

Wisdom’s Knocking:

“You make known to me the path of life;

in Your presence there is fullness of joy;

at Your right hand are pleasures forevermore.”

Psalm 16:11 (ESV)

Like in the Movies

     I’ve realized how much I expect life to imitate the movies.

     You’d think I’d have a better handle on this, especially because I work in television.

     I know how to see through the façade.

     And yet, I’m fascinated with a Hallmark view of reality. And in the back of my mind, I think that all scenarios, if given their best shot, would play out like such. Or even better, like my favorite John Hughes 1980s movies. There would be turmoil and unrest, but the third act would bring the resolve and completion of the character arc we’ve all been waiting for.

     But real life—the ones we live, are far more nuanced and I find sometimes, lacking the resolve we’d hoped for.

     He told me in very certain terms, that he only wanted friendship with me.

     I think I knew that from the beginning.

     But I was starting to become so smitten with the idea of him, that I convinced myself that I could convince him.

     When does that ever work? Especially not in the long run.

     But I painted this picture of us in a classic 1980s teen movie and I just knew he would fall for my eclectic goofy charm. If I just took my “glasses off”, then he would see the real me, wonder what took him so long, and fall madly deeply in love with me.  Fade to Black.

     But instead, there were two different conversations happening at the same time. I thought we were clicking. And he thought we were clicking.

     Let me clarify that for the men reading:

     “I thought we were clicking”. Translation: I thought we had an uncanny chemistry and rhythm that would expand into a relationship.

     “He thought we were clicking.” Translation: Nice girl. It’s cool she works in television. It’s good to have another friend in California.

      But by the end, when our conversations were exposed, I had already had my heart open to this person. Who by the way, I would have never thought twice about prior. That’s not meant to be a mean dig. It’s just, I didn't have any thoughts about this person prior. We are truly from two different worlds. And I respect that.

     Normally, I’m all for that. But in my gut, I felt as though I wasn’t the real demographic this guy was looking for. But my head started to turn in his direction, when I heard about how open he was about his faith in God.

     And then my head started to turn a little bit more with his persistence, our common ground, and later his humor.

     And with that progression I was won over.  

     I think it was the mystery of who I was in the beginning that made him pursue, even if he says it was merely a friendly pursuit. Is friendly pursuit a thing? I feel like that’s a made up thing. But anyway.

     I’m quite sure now that it was not the essence of who I am that he was truly after. I know this because I don’t think he can name two things that I’m currently working on in my life, or what’s important to me in this season. But I could answer both of those things in regards to his life.

     Maybe he thought I was one of those “Trendy L.A. Christians” ready to hit it and quit it, friends with benefits, etc.  (Nope. Nah, bruh. That’s not me.) And when that opportunity was off the table (actually never on the table)…well, perhaps his mindset was…”on to the next one”…

     Or maybe he was just hoping for a good Hollywood connection. 

     Now before I completely vilify him, life is not like the movies.

     And I cannot assume his motives.

     All I can do is take his word and actions at face value.

     So we’ve started over.

     This time, more or less friends, but more accurately acquaintances.

     I’m pulling back. Wayyyy back.

     But as you know, I can do this role quite well. #expert

     I almost feel as if I was born for this part. I’m the "cool girl friend" (not girlfriend…but a friend that’s a girl) surrounded by a ridiculous amount of good-looking guys. I guess that’s a compliment?

     But it has the same connotation as “Always a bridesmaid…never a bride…”

     But I have to be careful, because that song could easily become: “I’m not as valuable as...”

     Because for a split second, I thought…”Wait, am I not desirable and worthy of being pursued 100% by someone I like. Someone who knows what they want and who they want? Someone who isn’t afraid to commit to an adventure with me? Someone who is intentional towards me…Someone who also makes me laugh…Someone who’s not afraid of me. And Someone who’s taken the time to prepare their heart for real love.”

     And the answer is, yes--I’m worthy.

     And so are you beloved.

     So.

     Are.

     You.

     I love this quote by Kimberly Jones-Pothier:

"At your absolute best, you still won't be good enough for the wrong person. At your worst, you'll still be worth it to the right person."

     I’m at the stage of my life, where I’m ready for a real romance story. It may not be a Hallmark movie or a Sixteen Candles sequel, but it’ll be a real, passionate, and beautiful love story.

     As much as I’m a turtle, there’s a part of me that wants the movie-romance lightening bolt. You know what I mean, when both individuals “just know” and feel no need to waste time, and sprint down to the church to make dem vows.

     And yet, I very much want to take things slow.

     I know. I’m such an oxymoron.

     But I know when it happens for me, my feelings will be met with mutual fervor and passion.

     I won’t seem daunting or pressuring, because the man trying to win my heart will match my passion and intrigue.

     And even as friends, he’ll understand the art of valuing another person’s life and interests in addition to his own.

     I’ve learned so much from my chronicles with Mr. Friends-Only Pursuit.

     He’s still tender and beautiful, with a touch of sadness and kindness.

     And he still makes me laugh.

     Yet, I'm reminded that intent and value must be expressed early in a relationship--especially a friendship.  Leaving space for both hearts to feel safe while free to flourish and discover in the current context.

    I’ve also relearned, that love and life don’t necessarily play out like they do in the movies. 

     But rather, we experience a much more splendored thing.

     A story that will truly surprise us, ignite us, incite us, and eventually bring forth redemption in the end.

     And redemption, my friends, does come in the end.

     Just you wait and see.

     And when it does--

     Yes, when it finally, finally does...

     You’ll know it in your bones and feel it in your soul.

     Because, Hallelujah, Beloved--it’ll be better than it was in the movies.

Wisdom’s Knocking:

Jim (Dad): Well, if it’s any consolation, I love you. And if this guy can’t see in you all the beautiful and wonderful things that I see, then he’s got the problem.

Samantha: I know. It just hurts.

Jim: That’s why they call them crushes. If they were easy, they’d call ’em something else.

Samantha: But if I were Ginny, I’d have this guy crawling on his knees.

Jim: Well, let me tell you something about Ginny. Now, I love her as much as I love you. But she’s a different person. Sometimes I worry about her. When you’re given things kind of easily, you don’t always appreciate them. With you, I’m not worried. When it happens to you, Samantha, it’ll be forever.

--“Sixteen Candles” (1984) – Director: John Hughes

How a Garden Grows

     I love that there’s no hiding from God.

     That used to freak me out as a young child.

     I remember up until age 10, I felt this sense of powerful hiddenness. That I could say anything, do anything, and think anything without any sort of effect or real consequence.

     But my 5th grade teacher, Mrs. Fry, blew up this way of thinking, when she so casually and kindly said, “…And God knows what you’re thinking anyway…”

     I can’t remember the full context of what she was saying to our class, but it was as if there was increased volume sound when she spoke that phrase.

     I remember feeling guilty, then scared, then curiosity, and then later in my life--such great freedom.

     But mostly, I have found this to be quite true.

     There was nothing separating me from God. Not my skin, not my family, not my friends, not my circumstances.

     I also think it’s important to mention, that it’s strongly in part to Mrs. Fry that I journal and write. She had convinced me (as well as my parents later on), that what I ‘thought’ about was so striking that it needed to come out and find its way on paper.

     But like whoa.

     We laugh at Adam and Eve because they tried to “Hide their nakedness” from God once they distrusted the goodness of His character – which was first a thought, then words spoken and exchanged, and then action walked out – resulting in sin and pain entering the storyline.

     But I find that we are constantly trying to hide. Hide behind things, people, desires, idols, hopes and even dreams.

     Instead of ourselves coming face to face, stark naked before a holy God. He knows what you look like naked anyways. Physically speaking --- emotionally speaking—and spiritually speaking.

     Thoughts carry weight.

     I listen a great deal.

     I listen to what people say. Because inevitably they are telling me how they think and what they’ve experienced and what they believe to be true.

     But what they say, is not always what they mean.

     And therein lies the crux.

     We are fragmented.

     But everything lost is constantly making its way back to you in God.

     But yet we are fragmented in so many ways. And if I’m honest, I for one, still distrust the goodness of God in all areas of my life.

     But He brings His wholeness to the table.

     And He invites me to a meal.

     To sit and listen to His stories, and to tell me the real version of mine.

     And I can’t help but think, why was I hiding from this invitation in the first place?

     But this is how a garden grows.

     Watering, pruning, patience, and singing.

     Have you seen those incredible experiments where plants are exposed to 2 or 3 types of music or words of affirmation verses critical words of hatred?

     The physical and internal structure of these plants are affected simply by the music or words spoken to it.

     So how, in turn, do you think words spoken over us as children, teenagers, adults, and seniors, affect our souls and our physical appearance?  I would confidently say the effect is monumental.

     And in the midst, we get good at hiding, and carrying the burden on our own throughout a lifetime.

     Because often, we think, if someone sees, they’ll be disgusted and leave us to stew once again in rejection or loneliness.

     But I love how God knows and sees us.

     I love that there are words in the Bible like, “Come to me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.” (Matt. 11:28)

     Tears.

     Seriously. In this season of my life, this verse hits my heart so strongly. I can feast at the table, and just chew on this verse until it sustains me. And it does sustain.

     It carries the weight of peace, glory, joy, and love.

---

     I met someone.

     And it was the sound of his voice that felt familiar to me.

     There was something both sad and beautiful about his face when I looked at him intently. Like there had been such deep pain, but there he was, steady pushing towards the direction of joy.

     He seems to be an amalgamation of tender and fierce. And I’m intrigued, but I don’t know the context of who we are.

     And a garden never seems to grow fast enough.

     It takes its time.

     As it’s suppose to.

      But in all honesty, he’s not pursuing, defining, or trying to date me as far as I know. And perhaps that is the true definition of our relationship: Friendship.

     Around him, I feel a little bit like “J.C. Wiatt” (played by Diane Keaton) in the 1987 movie, Baby Boom. 

     J.C. Wiatt, a kick-butt business woman in New York City, in a predominately male industry, turns to goofy putty (against her pride) becoming comically awkward and losing her cool around the ever-so handsome small town doctor, Dr. Jeff Cooper  (played by Sam Shepard).

     But this may not end like J.C. and Dr. Cooper.

     And that’s okay.

     I just don’t want to be duped or strung along.

     And I still want to have a lush garden when it’s all said and done.

     And perhaps he will too.

     I want us both to flourish, but in which direction we individually and collectively grow shall yet to be determined.

     But alas, nothing is hidden from God.

     And I’ll continue to trust the process. Even the manure bits.

     And here we are. --2018.

     You’re growing a garden.

     And I’m growing a garden.

     And I’m so very glad we both are.

     Because God can wholly tend to these eccentric and sometimes barren-looking gardens, if we let Him.

     Whispering to our hearts, that He alone causes the fruit to mature and brings about the full bounty.

Wisdom’s Knocking:

“And the Lord will continually guide you, And satisfy your desire in scorched places,

And give strength to your bones; And you will be like a watered garden,

And like a spring of water whose waters do not fail.”

- Isaiah 58:11