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Little joys

28 Oct

Ever since my restless post a week ago, I feel like I’ve been more aware than usual of little things that I enjoy, as if God is reminding me that life is supposed to be enjoyable and not just an endless journey toward an ever-heightening goal.

I enjoy crisp fall weather, soft cool breezes and lazy sunshine.

I enjoy writing (in my blog!) and talking to old friends (talked to one of my college roomies last night).

I enjoy taking care of my husband, buying groceries and washing clothes.

I like cooking new recipes and trying new things in the kitchen.

I like keeping a steady exercise schedule and eating right most of the time.

I like changing things up, like my hair, clothes, or even my blog (thought I can’t figure out which layout I want to switch to!!)

I enjoy my job and the responsibility and sense of importance that it gives me.

I love my husband, all his silly nonsense and the way he loves me like no one else ever has–or will (except Jesus!)

I love learning new things about God, having the eyes of my heart enlightened, beginning a prayer only to have a revelation and sit in silent awe.

I enjoy having holidays and family time to look forward to. (And having the chance to go to Mexico for a week in March!!)

I love cats (though I can’t have one) and dogs (though we’re not going to get one for a while).

I love the feeling of fall and Christmas. Heaven must feel something like a hybrid of those 2 things.

I love hope. Without the hope of a life after this one, none of this means anything. Because without the hope of salvation, this world fades away into nothingness, like it never existed.

I am thankful to God that “according to His great mercy, He has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead…” (1 Peter 1:3) It truly is what makes life worth living and what causes and enables me to strive for more…it doesn’t end here. I have an eternity in heaven.

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Hope amidst Hopelessness

24 Oct

I talked to Travis on Wednesday night about what I wrote in my last post. He said that he felt that way at times too, though not to that extent. I think a natural part of our human nature craves to be part of something bigger than ourselves. I know that I had that desire even before I became a Christian–in fact, it was the biggest thing that attracted me to becoming a Christian: something to live for.

So what has happened since then? Christ is still my only hope of salvation. I still daily surrender (or at least try to!) my life and will to the Father’s. But I lack one very important thing: courage.

As I was praying about this Wednesday morning, it dawned on me that even though I know what I want to be doing and what kind of life I want to be living, it is still a giant leap from where I am now to that place. And to be honest, that giant leap scares the $#!* out of me.

Tangent: It’s kind of ironic that the thing in the Christian life that I’m the worst at (in the sense that I don’t do it at all) is evangelism. I can’t remember the last time I shared my faith, it’s that bad. The reason why it’s ironic is because I was deeply involved in Campus Outreach in college–a campus ministry that focused on reaching the lost world for Christ–and now I work at Dare 2 Share Ministries–if you didn’t catch it in the name, we’re all teaching and mobilizing teens to share their faith with the teens they know.

My lack of courage is what is currently holding me back. Before, I didn’t even realize that I was moving through life on a conveyor belt. There was an expected progression to things; I accepted it without question. I realize now that I haven’t really strived for anything. I’ve worked hard (to graduate with honors and get a good job) but that’s just because I’m anal-retentive.

But now that I’m out of college and married, I have realized that I have something they call “options.” I can choose what to do with my life. It’s very weird and hard to get used to. As I’ve been mulling this over in my mind, I have come up with some ideas of what I could do to move myself toward the life I want to be living:

1. Start intentionally writing–whether it be the full story of how I became a Christian, or just freelancing to build a portfolio.

2. Take a class–or two. I really want to take a class on Photoshop (for my current job) and a class on writing non-fiction (for my dream job).

3. Get a new job (shhh…don’t tell my boss) writing for a magazine or Christian company.

4. Read books about Marketing and Leadership to continue to grow in my current role at D2S.

5. Get my ESL (English as a Second Language) license and teach immigrants (with CAK?)

6. Find an organization that I can get involved with through volunteering. Thoughts have been: Big Sister, a pregnancy center, Samaritans Purse, a nursing home, etc.

7. Plan a mission trip with Travis (it might have to be in 2010…)

8. Volunteer more at my church by helping with planning/organizing events or translating resources into Spanish (though I would definitely have to brush up on my skills!!)

I feel like these are good ideas but I am aware that I have only so many hours in the day. I can’t do them all, nor do I want to. I need to figure out what my passions are and what I really want to invest in.

But the good news is, God is faithful!! (like He ever isn’t…) On Wednesday during chapel I had to laugh at God a little–only He would give me hope amidst hopelessness. Kind of like Abraham and Sarah–they hoped against hope. God is a God of hope when there is no hope. And I feel the sparks of excitement and anticipation of what I can make my life be like with God’s help. I am not relegated to being a mediocre bum!!

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A self-imposed glass ceiling

21 Oct

“I want to feel that each day is better than the day before and that I’m happy to be waking up and have the opportunity to do the things I do. And when I no longer feel that, I’ll do something else.”

That’s what Helene Gayle, CEO of CARE USA, said in the Newsweek from October 13, 2008. As I read that statement, I find myself half-scoffing at her, half-wondering what her secret is. How did she get to that place where she enjoys her job and feels that her life has meaning? How can she be so content with the world and herself to say that she wakes up feeling that every day is better than the day before? How I wish I had that contentment!!

I know all the trite Christian stuff: Christ gives my life meaning, I have so much to be thankful for, I have been given the greatest mission on earth, yadda yadda yadda. While I’m not saying those things aren’t true (since I still am a Christian, I know they’re true) what I have felt stirring in my heart and soul for the past year goes a lot deeper than that. Those pie-in-the-sky answers feel like a band-aid for a severed limb.

I’m disturbed lately about what my life is like. I’m not satisfied with it. I don’t like what I do everyday. I think it’s pointless. I’m living for myself and my own pathetic desires. I get up every morning to take a shower, do my hair and makeup, get dressed (while wishing for more and cuter clothes), eat breakfast, make lunches for me and Trav, read my Bible reading plan, fix some coffee and go to work. After work, I come home, make dinner (most nights), read/watch TV/blog, exercise, and go to bed.

These are the times when I think that being a non-Christian must be so much easier. Instead of fighting all the natural desires, you get to indulge them. Sure, they end being your ruin but at least you go down without a fight. But as a Christian, I feel like I’m stuck in limbo between 2 worlds. Half of me hates the materialistic, vain, narcisstic culture than we live in while the other half of me takes the bait and runs. I want to be free from the desire to have a big house, cute clothes, go on exotic vacations and see the world, have gorgeous wedding pictures, etc. But when I see others who have or do them, it feels like jealousy eats me alive.

Last weekend, I was in a major funk. All I wanted to do was sleep, laze, do nothing. So that’s what I did–and at the end of the weekend, I felt disgusted with myself. Yesterday and today I have been more active but still, what did I do that was of importance? Sure, I educated myself about the Colorado amendments and exercised. But I also watched 3 episodes of House and an hour of Boston Legal. Even if I had spent that same time reading though, I doubt it would have done anything for my conscience or sense of self-worth.

Some would say that my job (at a non-profit Christian ministry) is contributing something worthwhile. I suppose in some remote way, I am helping teens get trained to share their faith. But that’s just the thing–they’re the ones being trained to get out there. They are the ones living our vision out. Me? I just work there. Punch in my 9 to 5 and come home to…what?

I’m somewhat confounded at the seemingly sudden unrest with my life. Where did it come from? Why is it here? Why am I not like everyone else, going through life, content with the status quo, never doubting or guessing why their life is the way it is? Isn’t this what I’m supposed to be doing–working, married, living, breathing.

But it’s not enough for me.

I don’t want to do this for the rest of my life. Sometimes I feel like I don’t even want to do this for the rest of the year. My life is passing by right before my eyes and I am doing absolutely nothing about it. I do dream about what my life would be like if I was doing something I really believed in, something I could feel good about leaving behind. A legacy of any sort. But I fear that if I died tomorrow, only my family and a few friends would truly care. Surely the world would not notice at all.

As I said earlier, this has been going on for about a year. Really, ever since we moved to Colorado. There’s something about being out here, about being torn away from everything so familiar that you don’t think twice about, that is revealing and intrusive. I try to think about my life back in Minnesota, about why I didn’t feel like this then. Why was I ok with my life? I’m really not all that different from who I was then. Actually, I’ve volunteered more out here in Colorado than I did back in Minnesota–one year vs. 24. Doesn’t that show that I’m becoming more concerned about others, rather than wasting my life on myself?

If anything, the times I’ve volunteered out here in Colorado have shown me just how little I do for anyone but myself. All of my thoughts constantly center on me and what I want. When I feel like I don’t do enough for other people, instead of moving into action to remedy the problem, I mope and feel depressed. Which just shows that it’s really all about me in the end anyway.

What I yearn to do is break free from living under my own glass ceiling. I dream about doing big things–but I always rationalize my way out of them. I fantasize about being impulsive and about throwing all my eggs into one basket to achieve something of epic proportions–but well-meaning advice from well-meaning friends coaxes me from the edge. So I try to pacify myself with a life of mediocrity, monotony, and quasi-fulfillment.

It may sound to some reading this that I’m on the verge of doing something rash. But I’m not. I know that the Lord is in control of my life and I truly believe that He has put this unrest in my soul for a reason. It has come along enough times now that I finally realize that I need to grab it and ride it, though I have no idea where it may take me and when. While my fleshly desire is to despair under the comforter on my bed, my Spirit is preparing me for the biggest battle I will ever have to fight–the battle against myself.

Was that last line too cheesy? 🙂 I couldn’t resist.

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To blog or not to blog?

18 Oct

I am going to warn you now that this post could be scattered and random, since I have quite a few thoughts in my head and they are not all completely related… Also, I am using my laptop to type this and for some reason, it thinks that I want to search for something on the web page every time I want to insert an apostrophe. So I will not be using many contractions, even thought it makes me sound kinda stuffy.

I started my blog back in January because I love to write. I double-majored in Journalism and Spanish in college so pretty much all I did in college was write. I learned that to really hone your writing skills and produce any work worth reading, you need to constantly practice. Writers need to force themselves to write, even if it is one of those days that putting words on paper seems like pulling teeth.

Well, with a full-time job to work, a house to clean and manage, church activities to attend, and House episodes to watch, I do not have much time to write. I am toying with the idea of working 4 10-hour days (my work changed the HR policy for hourly employees to allow them to do that). I could use that day off to write and volunteer at a pregnancy center. But with my old boss leaving and a lot of stuff going on right now at work, it does not seem like I am going to be approved for that work situation anytime soon.

All that to say, I started a blog so that I would have some outlet to write, with some chance that other people would see and read it besides me. I had also planned to post my memoir on my blog pages. That has not really happened yet…

When I first started my blog, no one but my husband knew about it (but he did not even read it–and still does not!!) I used to frequent the Nest message boards a lot (not anymore) and put a link to my blog in my board signature, as well as my email signature. So people found and read my blog that way. But I did not physically tell anyone that I had a blog.

I have recently discovered that I am not the only person who did not tell anyone about their blog. The reasons for not doing so are different for each person. For my blogger friend Leah, she did not tell anyone because she wanted to maintain face-to-face communication. For my real-life friend (and I just discovered, also blogger) Katie, she was afraid to tell anyone because of what they would think about what she REALLY thinks. For me, I just could not figure out a way to tell people I knew about my blog without feeling like I was saying “Check me out! I am sooooo awesome!”

I never had the intention that my blog would be the blow-by-blow of my life (some people have blogs like that, that is their prerogative). Instead, I wanted to muse on the random NESS of life and the different things I was learning about God. And I think (and hope!) that for the most part, my blog has not been a bunch of fluff and description about what I actually DO every day, but rather deep (or at least deepER) thoughts about life, love, and God.

So this morning, when I was thinking about where I have been lately with the whole eating/exercise thing, I thought about blogging about it. But then, I was scared about my friends back in Minnesota reading about it. Because for some reason, I have always felt the need to keep secret my struggle with body image, eating, exercise, etc. I do know that I have talked about it with a few girls (and I talk about it with Travis, who tries to understand as well as he can as a guy) but by and large, I keep it to myself.

There are quite a few people at my work, men and women both, who openly and frequently talk about their efforts to be healthier, lose weight, exercise, train for an event, etc. It seems strange to me that it is like that, since I am so the opposite. Maybe I feel that way because I have been told so many times before when I even mention something of trying to lose weight/tone/eat better “You do NOT need to lose weight!! You are already skinny!” Or maybe it is because I feel like I struggle to make it not an idol, rather than, like other people, struggle to make it even remotely a priority. Whatever the reason is, I never chime in on what I am currently doing to “maintain my physique” because I would just feel exposed.

As I had all those thoughts, I realized that my intention for blogging had slowly been morphing without my knowledge or consent. I read somewhere online, when researching a better blog name (which I finally came up with!), that you can’t write anything without thinking about a certain audience. (Side note: I just discovered that my apostrophe button has now decided it will work and give me an apostrophe! YAY!! ””””’ Look at all those!) I have been tempted to filter what I blog about according to my audience. That defeats the whole point of my blog!!

So, in the name of not filtering my blog, I will write about what I’m tempted to not write about: my struggle with eating/exercise/body image.

I will first of qualify this by saying that I know that I’m not fat. I would like to lose a few pounds but I’m sure the majority of women fall into that category with me.

My biggest struggle lately has been eating horribly. My parents were out here for a weekend and then Travis parents just left yesterday after being out here for a whole week. For some inexplicable reason, I eat like a horse around my family. Thanksgiving and Christmas last year were anomalies in my holiday eating habits (in that I didn’t eat like a pig). I know that a lot of people struggle with eating around the holidays–but me, I just struggle with eating around my family. (Doesn’t help either that the exercise is pretty much non-existent when I’m around them).

When I eat horribly, I get bloated and feel gross. So I wear baggy clothes, which makes it easy for me to continue to eat horribly. And when I already feel gross, I feel like “Well, why not eat another bowl of ice cream?”

I envy those people who are even-keeled, who eat the same way all the time, who respect their internal fullness mechanism and stop when they don’t need anymore. I tend to be more of an emotional and spastic eater. I will eat a huge dessert when I’m already stuffed to the gills because I want dessert. I will eat ice cream, chocolate, and sweets even when I’ve decided not to (anyone who has read my blog consistently knows that!) because I have this puny little willpower. I eat when I’m bored or especially when I’m tired. I love cereal so much that I’m tempted (but lately have refrained from) eating 2 big bowls for breakfast.

I don’t really struggle a whole ton with the exercise part. I really do enjoy exercising (except for when I’m in a funk…then doing anything but lie on the couch seems like an extraordinary amount of effort). I have been going to aerobics classes at the Wheat Ridge Rec Center. I love them. They are challenging (exertion-wise AND routine-wise) but fun, the time goes really fast, and I push myself more than I would if I were by myself. I just need to get my eating under control.

Back in Sept, I had written a post about imposing a no-sweet rule on myself for the rest of Sept. Well, if you couldn’t tell, that didn’t really happen. After a week-long gaffe, I got back on track…for a while. But the end of Sept and early Oct have been pretty pathetic. But last night, I decided that I was sick of feeling nasty. I know that it affects the way I feel about myself and it affects my marriage (when you don’t feel sexy, it’s hard to act like you do!!) And I know that God doesn’t want me to beat myself up all the time over the way I look–He doesn’t want me to disrespect or abuse my body either, through under-training and overeating, or even the reverse.

There have been periods of time when I felt very in control (in a good way!!) of myself–what and how much I ate, how much I exercised, etc. I felt great being in control–but it’s the time when I drive myself into the ground and get discouraged that seem to be the hardest to get out of. I don’t want diet and exercise to rule my life–I want it to be a natural part of it. I don’t want to throw caution to the wind but I don’t want to be a Nazi about it either. Only the Lord can help me find the happy medium–because I can’t do anything loving for a body that I hate. I need to believe that I am beautiful the way I am but that God has called me to something better–He has called me to ENJOY the body that I have been given. I know that I enjoy my body the most when I take the best care of it–by feeding it healthy foods and moving it through exercise.

I also have been researching ways to prevent breast cancer, osteoporosis and heart disease–very real threats to women. I want to live long and be able to move around a lot when I’m older. So that is also motivation for being healthy now.

I guess my motivations for staying healthy are morphing as I get older and grow in my Christian walk. I keep hoping for the day when I wake up and I no longer struggle with wanting to be thinner. It hasn’t come yet. So I guess I will have to just keep on moving forward in faith, asking the Lord to free me from this idol and struggle, and give me life in His ways.

There! I blogged about it. I don’t feel better–it’s still a nasty struggle–but i don’t feel worse either. Because I know other women have this struggle. And if you have any advice or tips, I’d love to hear them!

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Am I a big hypocrite?

17 Oct

When I was in college, Facebook became the rage. Now there’s myspace too and a bunch of other social networks like Friendster and what-have-you. But back in 2005 and 2006, Facebook was the top dawg.

Almost all of my friends had it. They had their profiles and their friends and spent hours and hours of time on Facebook, reading about other people’s lives without actually talking to them at all. It was possible to know everything about a person–what they did every day, what bands they liked, who they were dating, etc–without actually ever talking to them!

I have yet to meet a person (besides my husband) who has a Facebook account and hasn’t gotten sucked in to spending hours a day on it. Plenty of my close friends in college even admitted to the fact that Facebook was/is addicting.

Which is why I steered clear of Facebook and all its social network relatives. I never signed up for it, despite the fact that many people pressured me to join. “You should get Facebook,” they’d say. “Um, how about you just call and talk to me to find out what I’m up to? Unless you really don’t care about ME, you care about seeing what I’m DOING…which would just be weird.” 

To be honest, I’m still kind of proud of the fact that I’ve never had a Facebook page. People of my kind are few and far between. Seems like everyone and their grandma has fallen prey to the social networking phenomenon.

Anyway…

So I have found recently that many of my good friends from back home have started blogs. This is so excited for me, as a member of the blogging world as well. I love reading about what my old friends are up to and the struggles/joys they’re going through. It’s fun seeing pictures of them, their family, and their activities.

As I was pondering this after finding my friend Katie‘s blog today, it hit me: am I now a Facebooker without having Facebook? The whole reason why I despised Facebook (and sinfully/playfully felt myself superior to those who had it) was because of the “Look at me, look at me” and peeping tom-NESS. But now, I am reading about people’s lives and not calling them. What’s happening to me?!?!?!?

I could defend myself by saying I only read my friends-in-real-life’s blogs… But I don’t.

I could defend myself by saying I actually talk to the people whose blogs I read… But I don’t.

But I can defend myself by saying that I don’t know what their favorite bands are or what their favorite life quote is. And no one can poke me or write on my wall in my blog!!

Although, they can comment on my posts…

What do you think? Is blogging like Facebook, in that I am being a sorta-kinda-peeping tom?

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The 9 to 5

1 Oct

I guess it’s more like 8:30 to 5:00 with my now-mandatory lunch break (poo on the mandatory lunch break!! I have so much work to do during the day that I don’t like taking lunches. I don’t like taking walks. I don’t like sitting outside because it’s either a) too hot, b) too cold, or c) there’s nowhere comfy/quiet/isolated to sit.) But alas, I have to take a lunch break (because I’m not going to lie about it).

Some days I do the crossword. Some days I read a book. Some days I check email and blog. That day is today. And I figured that I might as well write about work since I’m here and it’s what is bothering me.

You know what my problem is? I get way too easily sidetracked. When I see an email pop up on my screen or I see that little envelope/mail icon at the bottom right of my toolbar, it is all I can do to NOT check my email right at that moment. That’s why it’s so hard to take a lunch break at my desk. I usually end up working on my break still because of those darn emails!!

Add to that, I usually have about 5 different projects going on at any given time, all of which have their own  emails flying back and forth across cyberspace. Then I have all these little random things come up, like “Can you send me this file?” or “How much did we pay for this last year?”

It’s a good thing that I am the queen of multi-tasking or this job would drive me NUTSO! Honestly…And things lately have been a little more chaotic than usual because of the upcoming release of GOSPEL Journey Maui. It has been a huge project–very worth it but very time-consuming all the same. Then there are all the materials for our next conference, Invincible, starting in November so we’ve been cranking away at getting the Student Notebook sent to print (hopefully by tomorrow morning!!) Then I’ve been doing a lot more graphic design than before, tweaking this ad, creating that ad, mocking up other ads to send to the pros for real design. 🙂

Anyway, that’s my work world right now. And then my boss thinks that she’s leaving on October 10th. I joke that the ministry is going to get pulled into the black hole of her absence. Honestly, she knows so much about everything around here that it would take just as long to teach anyone else what she knows as it did for her to learn all of it (which was about 6 years).

Anyway, I know that, for my sanity, I need to be better about sticking to one project and getting it done before moving on. Because I flutter around from thing to thing like a hummingbird and I feel like I’m spending more time remembering what I was doing before than spending time doing what I’m doing now.

And now I have too many thoughts in my head so I’m going to go back to work.

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The surreality of my life

4 Sep

As I was driving home tonight from my women’s group (with some friends from church), I was thinking about the fact that Travis and I have now lived in Colorado for a whole year. One year. It’s almost unbelievable. It’s kind of like being married for a year and a half–I can remember all the different events and days that comprised that year and a half but it still doesn’t seem possible that it has actually been a year and a half.

But alas, it has. In a way, I feel proud that we’ve made it through a year of being in Colorado. There are still times that I miss Minnesota, miss being in my home state. There’s something about growing up in a place that makes it just feel good. When we go back for vacations, weddings, and funerals, it just feels to be there, in Minnesota–even when the temperature is sometimes in the single digits. I miss Minnesota summers. The crickets, the warm nights, the lakes, the beaches. The Rocky Mountains are great (and we have definitely enjoyed them!) but Travis and I are both lake-lovers.

The Minnesota season I miss the most, though, is fall. Fall is my favorite season and I think maybe only the east coast has better fall colors than Minnesota. The North Shore–man, it’s gorgeous in the fall. I love those days that are crisp–not Colorado crisp, as in 75, but Minnesota crisp, as in 55–cold enough to wear a wool sweater without being hot but warm enough to not need a jacket. Those are the perfect days to go to a pumpkin farm or apple orchard. Ahhhh…Minnesota.

But Colorado is a great state as well. It has the perfect climate to be outdoors all year round–which is definitely more than I can say for Minnesota!! But the most amazing thing about living out here is that we actually are living out here. It seems surreal to me, really. For a person who has moved around their whole lives, living in a new place with new people is probably just routine. But I lived my entire life, minus one year that I was in New York, in Minnesota and to be in a different place, with different people, and 1,000 miles away from all of my family, seems surreal. And what seems even more surreal is that it has been a whole year that we’ve lived out here. Man, times flies.

I was also pondering tonight in the car how blessed Travis and I are. We don’t deserve all this and yet we pretty much have the life of our dreams–all because of our heavenly Father who loves to give His children gifts. I know not every Christian feels like they have their dream life and I know that I won’t always feel this way–over time, things change, bad things happen, life happens. But right now, I am very grateful to God that Travis and I both have very good jobs (actual careers!! something I was scared I would never have), we have our own house, two cars, healthy food on the table, caring friends, a great church, wonderful families, and time to do things that we really enjoy. I just turned 25 and Travis is still 23. It is surreal that we are where we are in our lives right now.

And I know that God has us here for a purpose, that none of this would have been possible without His providence and grace to us. We both found our current jobs within weeks of moving out here. I actually started my job 3 days after we moved. We found our current church 3 months before we moved, when we came out to Colorado to look for apartments. We have met many great friends through church and work. And we have a wonderful marriage–that alone is a supernatural gift from God.

I pray that I would be like Job–that if everything was taken away tomorrow, I would still praise God. “The LORD has given and the LORD has taken away.” But either way, I will praise Him.

Here are some pictures to commemorate our good times in Colorado:

Travis and me on our first trip to Colorado to find an apartment

Travis and I playing Scrabble--which we did almost everyday when we first moved to Colorado

Travis and I playing Scrabble--which we did almost everyday when we first moved to Colorado

Our first backpacking trip

Our first backpacking trip

Climbing Bear Peak near Boulder--it was so steep!

Climbing Bear Peak near Boulder--it was so steep!

Driving on Trail Ridge Road in RMNP

Driving on Trail Ridge Road in RMNP

Travis sitting on top of Bear Peak--we could see for miles.

Travis sitting on top of Bear Peak--we could see for miles.

A Colorado sunset

A Colorado sunset

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My thoughts on lowering the drinking age

25 Aug

I don’t think that lowering the drinking age should be completely out of the question. Sure, people are quoting statistics like “Safety advocates say the legal drinking age of 21 saves about 900 lives every year.” I do think that those stats should be taken seriously and they should inform our opinions. But I feel like any conservative evangelical that reads a headline like “Proposal to lower the drinking age” would just balk at the very notion. “Oh no, we cannot do such a thing as that!”

Why not? Does the Bible say “Thou shalt not drink wine until thou reachest the rightful age of 21 years.” I’ve never read that in the Bible. And one person who commented on an article about this in USA Today said that 18-year-olds can do everything else recognized as an adults’ right: join the Army, vote, buy cigarettes and porn, get married, drive a car, get a bank account, a job, etc. They can even buy a house (though their lack of credit and money probably prevents many from doing so).

So why can’t they drink?

I can see one argument–that alcohol is a dangerous thing and is abused by thousands of college students across the country. According to conservative theory, making drinking at that age would just encourage more college students to do so.

Well, let me just debunk that theory, as a recent college grad who definitely did her fair share of underage drinking. I wanted to drink before I was 21 so I found a way. It’s that simple. It’s not hard to get alcohol when you’re underage. Plenty of friends are either older or they have a fake ID. As an underage drinker, you quickly learn about the liquor stores that don’t check IDs closely–or at all. You learn about the places that get busted a ton by the cops and you stay away from them. You know which bars you can sneak into. You know who will buy you booze. This is College Living 101 for many students.

One argument used by the college presidents supporting this Amethyst Initiative is that lowering the drinking age would bring what is now a behind-closed-doors, secretive activity out into the public. Students who tailgate at their houses would be able to drink at the game. Instead of downing all 12 of their beers in the 2 hours before the game, they could down them over a period of 5-6 hours.

I totally agree with this argument. If students could drink at restaurants and bars and games, they wouldn’t have to booze it up in large amounts to be drunk before entering a public place. They could drink at a slower pace. And let me tell you, when you’re drinking quickly to get drunk and taking shots, sometimes you don’t feel the alcohol kick in until your 7th or 8th shot–at which point, you’re a goner. The chance to drinking slower and at various public places would help the binge drinking, IMO.

But I am not advocating binge drinking!! I am not even advocating underage drinking. My stance on this topic is very similar to my stance on abortion. Let me explain: while I don’t think that abortions are morally right and I don’t think that women should get them, I would not say that I am pro-life in a political sense. I don’t vote for pro-life politicians just because they’re pro-life. If I like another politican (who just happens to be pro-choice) better as a whole, I’ll vote for him or her.

The reason? When abortion was illegal, it didn’t go away. Instead, it went underground. Women had unsafe abortions in dirty conditions by untrained “doctors.” Many of the women suffered complications from the abortions; many actually died. I am convinced that this is what would happen if we tried to outlaw abortion through legislation today–women would still find a way to abort. They would just have to turn to the underground abortionists in dangerous conditions.

Changing our country’s perception on abortion comes through educating people about the fetus and stages of pregnancy. It comes from persuading them to choose adoption instead of abortion, if they really don’t want to raise their child. It comes from talking to pregnant, unwed mothers about the consequences of their choices and about the little life that is growing inside of them. It’s come through education, NOT through legislation.

And so my view on the drinking age is: why not lower it? Any underage student who really wants to drink is going to do it, regardless of whether they’re legal or not. They’re just confined to some dingy, damp college house basement with beer kegs and plastic cups instead of a nice, clean restaurant with martinis and glasses.

And let’s think about this: any student who is moral and straight-laced enough to say “I am not yet 21, so I am going to wait to drink”–what are the chances that that same student is going to binge drink when they do become of age? Wouldn’t their morality be a little inconsistent if they did? The students who are binge drinking are rebels–they don’t care what the legal drinking age is. They’ll do it in whatever way they can.

My main point: lowering the drinking age to 18 wouldn’t cause a drunken epidemic amoung college-age students–at least not one any bigger than the one already occurring.

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Life according to Woody Allen…

16 Aug

I just read this article about Woody Allen in the latest Newsweek. My heart breaks for him! A director who has had an amazing career but he says that he still makes movies “not because he has any grand statement to offer, but simply to take his mind off the existential horror of being alive.”

“I can’t really come up with a good argument to choose life over death. Except that I’m too scared,” Allen says.

Later on in the article, Woody Allen is quoted as saying, “Your perception of time changes as you get older, because you see how brief everything is. You see how meaningless…I don’t want to depress you, but it’s a meaningless little flicker…You have a meal, or you listen to a piece of music, and it’s a pleasurable thing. But it doesn’t accrue to anything.”

As I read that article, I was reminded of something I wrote in high school. For several years before I became a Christian, I really struggled with the meaning and purpose of life. If I had not become a Christian after my sophomore year of college, I have no doubt that I would resonated with Woody Allen’s sentiments very much.

This is what I wrote in my diary when I was a junior in high school: “There are no other words that I can think of to describe life other than futile and worthless. Really, when you think about it, what the hell are all of us doing here? We go through school, which everyone despises but supposedly it’s ‘beneficial.’ We get a career, which most people hate and they end up wasting their lives on things that don’t really matter. So what the hell are we doing? Sure there are some good times, fond memories. But they all end. Everything good or worth anything ends at one point. Nothing can be relied upon. You may think that you have your life figured out and everything may be peachy keen for a while. But just wait and see–life will throw you a curveball, guaranteed. There is absolutely no doubt that your life will truly suck. And not just once. Repeatedly, over and over. You know why? Because life’s a bitch and then you die.”

By the end of my senior year of high school, this is what I thought: “I know that I have felt–and still remotely feel–that the good things in life seem to be constantly squashed by the shit. But I have also realized that while some good things are temporary, so are the bad things. Nothing in life is ever definite, without the possibility of it being changed.”

Which is all fine and good that I held that quasi-belief then but it still didn’t answer my question: What the hell are we all doing here? I still didn’t have a purpose to my life, no meaning. Until I became a Christian, my life was all about pleasure and rebellion. I smoked pot, got wasted, and slept around because it was wild and free. There were no rules.

But my sophomore year of college, I started rethinking my take on life. I wasn’t happy. I was miserable. My life consisted of surviving each week to get to the weekend and then being so hammered and stoned all weekend that I didn’t remember half of it anyway. I thought to myself, “Is this ALL there is to life? This is IT?” I think Woody Allen started in that place–but he’s questioned it for so long with no answers that he has resigned himself to “This IS all there is and life is SHIT. I would kill myself but I don’t have the guts.” That is truly tragic. And I am sure that he is not alone in his feelings. I think it is common for atheists to feel that way (but most likely not that intense).

Without Christ, life is meaningless. Because only the Creator of the world can tell us what it all means, the reason why we’re all here. That was what drew me to Jesus in the first place–He was something to live for. I finally had something to live for, something to build my life around. I finally had a purpose. Reason #456,278 why I am so glad and thankful that God called me to be His.

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Teen Pregnancy vs. Sperm Donation

24 Jun

With all the brouhaha going around lately about teen pregnancy because of the supposed pact in Gloucester, MA between 15- and 16-year-old girls to all get pregnant and raise their kids together, I felt like I needed to comment.

The Los Angeles Times has an article on this on their website by Kay Hymowitz (find it here). She “says the Gloucester teen pregnancy story reveals a change in attitudes toward the family. Kerry Howley counters that we need to stop thinking a baby is the cure to an empty life” (taken from the subheader). While I think both women make interesting points, I will make my own in this blog (inspired by their points and other media I’ve read about this).

The media is saying that the reason these teen girls created this pregnancy pact was because they wanted to forge an identity for themselves. They wanted to bond through motherhood. Jamie Lynn Spears made teen motherhood not only acceptable but appealing.

That may be true–Jamie Lynn isn’t a great role model. What ever happened to the Scarlet Letter? But there are plenty of other women out there–in their 30s and 40s no less!–who aren’t good role models either.

They publicly, purposefully, and expensively forego marriage and commitment (or just don’t have the patience to wait for it) to get artificially inseminated by some guy they never met–and will probably never meet–just to have a child who will be raised by a single parent. Imagine if you grew up knowing you were just a result of a random sperm from a petri dish inserted into a your mom’s uterus.

Some women want to be a mother so badly (and so selfishly) that they are willing to pay tons of money and to cheat their child out of a father just so they can assuage their desire. In my opinion, these women should not be mothers. To be a good parent, you have to be selfless. You have to be willing to give up your career, your expensive purses and shoes, your free time, if the need be. So many parents today want kids but also want to live their lives like nothing had changed–they just added a kid, no big deal. (Hence all the rich families who have full-time nannies while the mom is out shopping and getting pedicures all day–they do exist. I have friends who work for them!) Um, life CHANGES when you have kids. If you don’t want your life to change, then don’t have any!!

My whole point is, if these teen girls did indeed create a pregnancy pact, it is quite possible that they did so so because they thought motherhood looked glamorous and trendy. Or maybe they thought their life would be better if they were mothers. But as evidenced by sperm banks and artifical insemination (and SATC), many other older women think the same and you don’t see them getting scraped all over the media. If the issue is about financial stability, then I concede–older women are in a financially better position to be single mothers than teen girls. But if the issue is kids being raised without fathers or women seeking fulfillment through motherhood, no matter what the means, then those teens girls are no worse than a 30-year-old woman, unmarried, who wants to be a mother so badly that she pays for some sperm.

Motherhood is a precious gift from God, just like virginity is. We should respect it and use it correctly, in the way that God intended. That way is a man and a woman who are married, monogamous, and living together, who raise their children up in the ways of the Lord. These teen girls don’t need more sex education. They don’t even need more information about abstinence and the consequences–emotionally, physically, economically–of getting pregnant. They need Jesus. They need the One who really will satisfy their desires and fulfill their empty life. A baby is not the answer and never will be.

Disclaimer: This is in no way intended to be hurtful or derogatory to those mothers (and their children) who are widows. If that is you, I bet you wish your child could grow up with a father. They are a crucial element in a family but sometimes God chooses a different path. My condolences.

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