Come and Rise up from the Grave

And I saw him, Death with his mighty sting, exhaling in every breath of life he brings. To the grave he gave victory, triumphing over life with the fear of endless sleep, endlessly we hind from our mortality. Mortally wounded from birth we lie to ourselves from infancy. Infinitely investing time in a life that will inevitably be taken by this creature that now stands before me. Death. He manifests himself on ordinary days. His six-foot stomach growls with hunger pains. For his meal, he cannot wait, so we are forced to taste it even before the grave. We are all dying. There is no other way. I see him in Haitian and Japanese earthquakes. He's hating the escapees of his cruel wakes. I see him in poverty. Impoverishing the quality of life for regions that are reachable and in those with the reach that find reason no to reach out to treat what is treatable. I see him in disease, taking life out of uninfected, yet affected families. I see him in oppression, pressing down on the oppressed and the oppressor. I see him in depression, in prozac and pain pills, in razor blades and bed-side wills. I see him in abuse; physical, mental, emotional misuse. I see him in spiritual confusion, material obsession, physical possessions. I see him in marital transgressions. Childhood remorse from an ugly divorce. I see him in our slavery to appearances. Appearing to care more about our images than those in dying villages. I see him in our ignorance, ignoring truth for some comfortable inference. I see his emergence in our churches as we pull out emergent diversions as deterrents to religious differences. Go on the defensive defending our way of worship, making community worthless. Death is killing us before we even enter the surface of the earth, we are in service of his words. "It is finished," the end of our birth. We cannot hid from his wretched curse, for Death and his grave we constantly rehearse. Even God Himself was coerced. Divinity immersed itself in humanity, humbly taking on flesh, scorning vanity. The world saw His way of life as insanity, insisting He cease speaking of this radical Christianity. But man found Him guilty, accusing GOD of BLASPHEMY, performing the ultimate usurpation by slaying Christ on Calvary. But through their cowardly cross, Jesus bought mankind with amnesty, championing over Death with the beauty of His fatal injury. And I know, many still doubt, and rightfully so, bringing up this inquiry, "What does that poor Jewish man dying on a Roman tree 2,000 years ago have to do with me?" I reply simply, "Christ came and died to marry His bride to be, and though Death could kill the Groom, it could not kill the ring. God made us one with Christ and life in matrimony's cling. And now the undying church, His everlasting wife can sing, 'O Death, where is your sting? O grave, where is your victory?' For we have risen above your misery. We will not succumb to your finality. We have overcome your infamous mystery. And in the infinite reign of Christ's ministry, for we are the Resurrection, the insurrection of fatality. We are the risen Deity, the intersection of a dead and living body. We live through imperfections for we died to become holy. We cannot be contained by the mouth of the grave. We are the willing slaves for the one that rose from that garden cave. We pass from death to new birth. We gave the grave to the earth. And we claim today the cross's worth. The body of His rising. We are the risen church. 

And We Return to the Thought of Beauty...

I find myself going back so often to beauty.
It is a concept that everyone is striving for on one level or another.
It surreptitiously creeps into every aspect of our lives.
These little reminders of all the beauty around me always takes me back to ponder my struggles with my physical beauty.
It has really only been within the last few months that I have gotten to the point of truly believing that I am beautiful.
There is one instance from this fall that sticks out in my mind as a reminder to me that I am in fact beautiful.

My church does an end of the summer weekend retreat at a camp down on Canadaigua lake, and I have gone the past two years.

Last year, it was FREEZING the entire weekend. It was about 50 degrees, and windy, and rainy, and we all froze.
Now, the irony is, this year it was SO HOT. It was in the upper 80s the entire weekend, and so humid that you felt like you were swimming through the air.
Good thing the camp is on a lake.
This year, one of the nights we were there, we did a worship service; the entire meeting was filled with song and prayer.
Because I was the resident bassist for the weekend, I was on the stage for the entire night, and had a spot where I would sit when I was not playing.
When I play at a normal church service, I usually make myself look nice. Take the time to shower, do my hair, my makeup, and dress nicely.

Since it was so hot out, we had to scuff away the top sand
so we did not burn our feet... lol

However, since we were at camp, I had been running around playing volleyball, and jumped in the lake just before coming into worship practice. I had no makeup on, my hair was in a messy, wet, dirty, lake-smelling bun, and, since it was camp, I did not care.
The next morning, I was eating breakfast with some wonderful women whom I look up to at my church, and one of them said to me, "I just have to tell you, last night when you were sitting on the stage, I was looking at you and I thought, 'Paige is so beautiful!' and I just thought I should tell you that."
Then, the another woman who was sitting with us piped up with a similar comment.
I was astonished.
How could my dirty, smelly, sweaty, fresh-out-of-the-lake self be anything considered beautiful?
And yet, here were two women only a few years older than me, women that I can only hope to be like when I get a little older, and they were telling me that what I deemed disgusting they saw as beautiful.

That day has stuck out in my mind for the past three months as a reminder to the fact that God has in fact given me an innate beauty that I do not HAVE to try to amplify.
This obviously does not mean that I am going to stop taking care of myself, or that I am going to stop playing with my hair or my makeup, but rather, it gives me hope on the days that I am struggling to view myself as someone worth looking at.
It screams out at me saying, If you are beautiful when you're sitting fresh out of the lake, sweating profusely, with no makeup, then why do you worry so much?
It says to me, You ARE beautiful!
Although it is slow going, I would say that 90 percent of my days, I look in the mirror and am happy with what I see.
And that is a big feat for a 20 year old American girl.

Every Time

Every time I start to believe that I'm okay with Jon, that everything that happened is not worth any sort of emotion, I see him again, and my heart rate sky rockets and I feel that pang of anger, frustration, and sadness.
I guess it's just a reminder of how much work God is going to have to do in me before I can fall in love again.

Thanksgiving 2011

It's 11:30pm on Thanksgiving.
This day that was based on the premise of being thankful is almost coming to a close.
Although Thanksgiving is probably my favorite holiday (I mean, who DOESN'T love great food, crazy family, and a reminder to give thanks) giving thanks this year was probably harder for me than it has been in a while.
Thankfulness has always been such a big part of my walk with God.
When everything else starts to look bleak and dreary, I can usually bring myself back up and make things just a little bit brighter by reminding myself of how much He has blessed me over the course of my life.
I can be thankful for the sunrise, for my job, for the cafeteria making biscotti occasionally....
But it has gotten harder for me none the less.
Even today, on a day named for thanksgiving, I found myself having to remind myself about what the day was all about.
I had to remind myself to be thankful for having a warm bed to sleep in, food on my plate, my crazy loud family, and my friends who feel more like blood.
Even my crazy spazz of a cat who brings my live mice from the basement only to let them loose in the living room and chasing them across my feet, making me scream like a little girl.
True story.
I really am a girl.
But, I think it's simply part of the grieving process that I'm walking through.
I need to remind myself to do things that I used to do out of nature, slowly building them back up into my daily routine.
Thanksgiving was just another reminder of how much I need to continue to grow, continue to press on, continue to heal, and continue to become more like God.
And just a blaring reminder of how much I truly need Him.
I guess that's the biggest thing that I can be thankful for this year.
No matter what happens, my God is good.
My saying, although I have not posted it hear before, my saying these past few months to a year has been "Shit happens, but God is good."
(Maybe I should write a post about my view of swearing...)
Anyhoo....
God is good.
He is so good.
And for that, I am eternally grateful.

Ambushed

The waves of grief can often be described as being ambushed.
I've heard this so many times over the past 7 months or so, that it's almost become cliched in a way, and yet, it is still true to the very core of the statement.
You never know when another wave of grief is going to hit you.
Tonight, I was at Java's with a big group of friends; we were all laughing and carrying on as we always do.
Then, another friend of ours came in with a different group of people.
She began talking about how she had been sick off and on for the past few months, and in a joking manner, commented on how she had been cured of tuberculosis, encephalitis, cancer, etc.
But it was the encephalitis comment that caused my joy and entertainment to come to a screeching halt.
How could someone make such a flippant comment about encephalitis???
I had already been missing David today, wishing that he could come to my play this afternoon, but that comment, it just sent me over the edge.
I'm sure that the life drained out of my face immediately.
If I hadn't been sitting on the inside of a booth, and if I would not have had to displace about four people, I would have gotten up, gone to the bathroom, and cried.
But I held it together.
I sat in that booth, and tried to pull myself back together when all I wanted to do was scream out about how people should not make flippant comments about encephalitis.
I guess it's just another area where I have continued healing to do.

If You Don't Hear From Me...

I'm spending November trying to write a 50,000 word novel in 30 days.
Check it out!
www.nanowrimo.org

Why Me?

NOTE: This includes a closer look into my mind and heart than I think I've ever posted. Some of what I say may shock people, my own thoughts certainly have shocked me, but it is a look at my life, and a discussion of the question "Why me?" that has been resonating in my mind for a couple weeks now. 




Why me?
I was thinking about that simple question the other day.
There are so many contexts to which it can be applied.
Why was I fortunate enough to be born in the country, day and age that I was?
Why am I able to go to the wonderful college that I am?
Why have I been blessed with such wonderful mentors, professors, and friends?
Why do people see wisdom and grace in my life?
Why me?
But, one area that stuck out to me is why have I not been more destroyed by the cards that life has dealt me?
When I tell people my story, the pain that I have had to walk through, many of them have cried. Many people don't understand how I've come through a lot of what I have, and honestly, I don't know either.
I walked through the divorce of my parents, which included so much more than any of you will ever get to hear about or understand, and lead to a long string of self-image, and self-confidence issues that I still deal with, though on a less intense level, to this day.
I've dealt with depression most of my life, a thorn in my side that part of me views as a blessing. I could see myself becoming a very arrogant, know-it-all if I didn't struggle with this one dark corner of my own mind. It keeps me humble, but it is still a struggle that I am conscious of on a daily basis.
More recently, I lost my step-father, a man after God's own heart who took my brother and I both under his wing and loved us as his own children. He passes away suddenly, unexpectedly, leaving all of us in shock, grieving, and, at least for me, questioning God's goodness. For a little while, I wasn't sure how I could continue to worship a God who could allow such a man of God, someone who was making such a difference in people's lives, to leave this earth. Honestly, I was mad at God for a little while. The question would run through my mind, You could have healed him, so why didn't You? 
Then there was the case of Jon. I loved him. We were supposed to get married next summer. I put my plans and my life on hold for a year so that I could be with him. But, my dreams, my plans, my life with him was dashed on the rocks the day our relationship ended. It was so sudden. It didn't make sense to me for a long time. It hurt more than I had ever imagined it. It sent me spiraling for almost a month, a spiral downward that it took a weekend away at a lake with my church family to break out of.
So, why is it that when people talk about me, they tell me I am wise beyond my years when I feel stupid just opening my mouth?
Why do they see a strong woman when all I can see in myself is weakness and frailty?
How can people describe me as a mature woman of God when I cry like a little girl when something hurts?
Why is it that my worship leader says I have a powerful prayer gift when I doubt my own relationship with God; the efficacy of my prayer life?
Why have I not been destroyed but rather seem to have flourished through these hardships?
I guess all I can say is that God has a plan, and somehow He's making me stronger.

A Puritan Prayer

No poor creature stands in need of divine grace more than I do,
And yet none abuses it more than i have done, and still do.
How heartless and dull I am!
Humble me in the dust for not loving thee more.
Every time I exercise any grace renewedly
I am renewedly indebted to thee,
the God of all grace, for special assistance.

Worship

Breakthrough in worship came in my life shortly after I returned to the Lord. I really walked away at the age of 17 after several years of walking with the Lord, and what happened was that when I finally returned to Him, He captured my heart again. I began to learn about worship, I began to worship Him again, but it was a stage, a process I've been going through where I've learned that really true worship doesn't necessarily happen at church, worship is a lifestyle. For me, it is wonderful to worship in the congregation, but worship is also, and more importantly to me, obedience. As you combine joyful surrender and obedience, your worship of God becomes genuine, heartfelt relationship. You go before Him, and just tell Him how much you love Him and you are so grateful. Worship is now exactly who I am. It is just an outflow of where He's... what He's placed in me, what He's done in me, and how He lives through me. And just being a light. Worshiping Him in everything that I say and do, and making sure it's something that would please Him. 

This is a video of my step-father, David, speaking on worship.

I stumbled over it while cleaning out folders and files on my computer.

We played this at his funeral.

Joked that David would be the person to speak at his own funeral.

When he said that worship is a lifestyle, that it was how he lived, it was true.

I think that anyone who interacted with David was able to see that everything that he did in his life, he wanted it to reflect God's goodness and love. 

I watched this over and over today, partially to hear his voice, partially because the message is so good. 

We need to live our lives in worship to God, using everything that we say and do as worship.

David was such a good example in my life; I can only hope that I'm making him proud. 

And one day, I hope to marry a man who was the wonderful, Godly qualities that he possessed, qualities that you can see peaking through this video. 

I love you David.

Sharing is Caring

Today I re-discovered something about myself, something I feared had been lost with my ex-boyfriend; something I thought he may have killed in me.

What I re-discovered was how much I love giving people things, blessing them by showing them how much they mean to me with just a simple gesture.

This afternoon, I was craving apple cider and doughnuts.

I so wanted this fall sensation that I coerced a friend of mine to drive me to Wegmans so I could enjoy this luscious fall wonder.

But, when I got there, I decided that I was going to buy an entire gallon of cider and a dozen doughnuts. 

I wanted to share it with people. 

It seems like such a simple thing, but the look on my friends faces when I walked up to them with cider and doughnuts and asked if they wanted any warmed my heart. 

I found myself smiling when thinking about how much enjoyment they got out of something so simple.

All I really did was show them that I care about them and wanted to share something wonderful, no matter how simple.

I hope I can show them this more often. 

Unknown Lovers

I envision our day

Beneath the willow

Arms softly sway

To the beat of the earth

Drumming softly 

Your face I do 

Not know quite yet

You stand where a

'Nother once stood

Unable to withstand

The breaking wind

I may not know

The shade of your

Skin, or the colour

Of your eyes

But you are coming

This beautiful place

Somewhere unknown 

Beyond the reaches

Of my mind's eye

Will come alive one

Day with our love

The ground will breath

A great sigh of

Relief when finally

Unknown lovers

Have been wed

Till that day I 

Will wait with bated 

Breath for the one

Who can stand in

The crashing waves

Handle the wind

Unknown lover

I beg of you

Please, do not come

For me, but wait 'neath

The willow

Moving

So, as many of you have noticed, I've been working on a project on this blog that I've been calling "100 Days, 100 Ways".
I'm only 4 posts in, and it's already been a  very healing process for me.
But, I had a realization the other day.
If I continue this project, it will ultimately overwhelm the "Nothing is Real" blog, and the concept that I've been trying to stick with here.
I was faced with a dilemma that I didn't really want to deal with, but had to.
I could either revamp "Nothing is Real" to focus more on "100 Days..." or I could create an entirely new blog, a different entity, that could be solely dedicated to my "100 Days..." project.
This would allow me to keep "Nothing is Real" focused on my thoughts and feelings on "life, love, and God" as I so aptly put it when I made it.
So, I gave in, and created a new blog.

I present to you "100 Days, 100 Ways"!
http://onehundreddaysonehundredways.blogspot.com/

Day 3

100 days, 100 ways...

Today I am thankful for:

Catching up with my girlfriends in a coffee shop.

The break in the clouds to let the sun shine through.

The fact that I have a job.

Awesome scarves.

A thought for today:

I realized the other day that I have a tiny crush on someone.

A fairly normal thing for a girl my age, but it was a major thing for me.

But, today, as I was walking through the library, I had a realization about this. 

This little crush is helping me grow and heal.

The fact that I am even able to look at a guy and see potential, that I am not completely complacent towards men, that I can hope for a future with someone, is huge for me.

So, I realized today that even if nothing happens with this guy, I am thankful simply for the presence of his cute face in my life every once and a while. 

Because, if for no other reason than this, he has helped me realize that I will, and do, have the ability to love someone, and that it should not be wasted simply because one boy did not want or deserve my love. 

I rest in the hope of a brighter tomorrow, a day full of love, and a cute man to someday share it with. 

Day 2

100 Days, 100 Ways....

Today I am thankful for:
The amazing group of women I get to meet with every Monday and the encouragement they are to me.
The growth and healing that I am going through day by day.
The warmth and love I receive from friends and family.

100 Days... 100 Ways

I had this idea today to chronicle 100 days on my blog.
I want to include a picture of myself, and a way that God has blessed me that day.
I think it will be good to see how I grow and change over time, both in thankfulness and in how my face reflects it.
If this goes over well, I may continue for a year, but I want to start with a smaller goal to start out with.

Day 1:

I'm thankful for:
A new hat on a cool, rainy day.
The opportunity to worship with my church family this morning.
A wonderful lunch with Josiah, Andrew, Jess, and Brenton.
Sitting in front of a fireplace, and having it warm my back.
All the hugs I receive on Sundays.

Little Things

It's the little things that brighten my days.
Tiny specks of light that appear in otherwise grey days.
They glitter and sparkle, draw my attention from the bleakness.
A new fall jacket
The changing of leaves
A part in a friend's play
A warm cup of coffee on a cool day
The crazy curls and waves that now adorn my head
A hug from a friend
It's when I can see these lights, when I can divert my thoughts from dimmness and drabbery, that I can let my own light shine through.
I guess I can only hope that I can be a little sparkle, a little bitty light, to someone I love on a bleak day of theirs.
That those tiny joys in my mind can congeal together to shine just a little brighter through my eyes.
A girl randomly handed me a card on the path today.
All it said was:
"Optimism can be so tiring and difficult, but it is worth it. CHOOSE joy today. Happiness is found in the little things."

Marching On

A friend of mine signed this song at my college's talent show this past weekend.
It was the first time that I had heard it.
But, it almost brought me to tears.
I may be broken, I may be struggling, I may be fighting a war that I can't see the end of, but with God and those He's placed around me, I will keep marching.
This is not the end.
There is something greater coming.

For those days we felt like a mistake,

Those times when love’s what you hate, 

Somehow, 

We keep marching on. 

For those nights when I couldn’t be there, 

I’ve made it harder to know that you know, 

That somehow, 

We’ll keep moving on. 

There’s so many wars we fought, 

There’s so many things we’re not, 

But with what we have, 

I promise you that, 

We’re marching on, 

(We’re marching on) 

(We’re marching on). 

For all of the plans we’ve made, 

There isn’t a flag I’d wave, 

Don’t care if we bend, 

I’d sink us to swim, 

We’re marching on, 

(We’re marching on) 

(We’re marching on). 

For those doubts that swirl all around us, 

For those lives that tear at the seams, 

We know, 

We’re not what we’ve seen, 

For this dance we’ll move with each other. 

There ain’t no other step than one foot, 

Right in front of the other. 

There’s so many wars we fought, 

There’s so many things we’re not, 

But with what we have, 

I promise you that, 

We’re marching on, 

(We’re marching on) 

(We’re marching on). 

For all of the plans we’ve made, 

There isn’t a flag I’d wave, 

Don’t care if we bend, 

I’d sink us to swim, 

We’re marching on, 

(We’re marching on) 

(We’re marching on). 

Right, right, right, right left right, 

Right, right, right, right left right, 

Right, right, We’re marching on. 

We’ll have the days we break, 

And we’ll have the scars to prove it, 

We’ll have the bonds that we save, 

But we’ll have the heart not to lose it. 

For all of the times we’ve stopped, 

For all of the things I’m not. 

We put one foot in front of the other, 

We move like we ain’t got no other, 

We go when we go, 

We’re marching on. 

There’s so many wars we fought, 

There’s so many things we’re not, 

But with what we have, 

I promise you that, 

We’re marching on, 

(We’re marching on) 

(We’re marching on). 

Right, right, right, right left right, 

Right, right, right, left, right, 

Right, right, 

We’re marching on. 

Right, right, right, right left right, 

Right, right, right, left, right, 

Right, right, 

We’re marching on.

Beneath the Surface

I've been really missing David this weekend.
I can't think of anything that would be triggering it.
It's just... a hole in my life that no one can fill.
And the hard part is, I don't know how to express this feeling to those around me.
It is a barely noticeable sadness that is underlying my day to day activities.
It stays just below the surface so no one can see it, but every once and a while my skin wears a little thinner than normal and the grief sticks it's ugly head out.
I can't stop it.
It's there, and when it comes out, I need to feel it and I need to work through it.
I just don't know how many people actually are willing to fight this battle with me.
To hold me up when I'm struggling.
To raise my hands and encourage me to keep praising God when I want to give up.
Deep down inside, there is a voice that says to me every time the grief comes out, If the one who said he wanted to marry you couldn't handle your grief, who will be willing to listen?
It's irrational.
There are so many people who care deeply for me.
There are so many people who have been praying with me, for me.
Just because one boy could not handle my emotions, it does not negate every other person who is here.
And yet I hide it.
How many people who saw me today could tell I was struggling?
As far as I know, none of them.
I am afraid of expressing how I truly feel.
And so I put on a smiling face, and I go to church, and when people ask how I'm doing, I say just fine because I don't feel like they care enough to bear my burden of grief.
After all, grief scares people away, right?
I mean, really, how many of you want to sit with me while I cry because I miss my stepdad who has been gone for almost 6 moths now.
Most people would think, Get over it! Move on! It's been 6 months for gosh sake!
But honestly, I feel it more than I did in April.
The only difference is, no one wants to hear it from me now.
So, I go on missing him, with no one knowing.

True Love Waits

I've been playing more and more with the idea of getting a tattoo.
I have wanted for a long time now to make my body a canvas that I can add pieces of art or reminders of God's love to.
I have not gotten one up to this point mostly because of the desire to look professional when entering the work force, and making sure that it is actually something that I want to do.
But there is one that has been eating at my mind for the past month and a half, one that I think would be good for me in my healing process.
I have been thinking about getting the phrase "True Love Waits" in Hebrew tattooed on my left ring finger, right where a wedding band will one day sit.
There are two main reasons why I believe this would be good for me.
First off, it would be a constant reminder of how I want to be completely sure the next time a man comes into my life.
I want to be sure that I can love him unconditionally for all time, and that he will love me just as much, if not more.
I want to be sure before I give him my heart completely.
It would be a reminder that I don't want to give my heart away again and again, only to have it be broken.
It would be a reminder to not discuss marriage before the time has come that we are both one hundred percent sure that marriage is truly where we will end up.
After all, if it is true love, I should be willing to wait, as should he.
True love waits.
Secondly, the language that it would be written in is very near and dear to my heart.
My wonderful stepfather was working on becoming fluent in Hebrew when he passed.
One of the last times I saw him, he attempted to say the Hebrew alphabet for me.
He had a ring, that my brother now wears, that had Song of Solomon 6:3, "I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine," in Hebrew on it.
It would be a reminder of him.
He would be able to be remembered when I get engaged, when I get married.
He would be present in a way.
And, it would be like him saying to me, like he so often did, "My Paigie girl, you need to wait for the best man for you."
It would come full circle.
Reminding me of my stepfather, of where God has me now, the man He is bringing me.
When I get married, the ring will cover it, and it won't show for the rest of my life.
I don't know when or if I will ever get around to getting it done.
(And my mama will have to approve first too)  ;)
But, the idea is beautiful in my mind...

Secret Admirer?

Today I got an email notifying me that there was a package waiting for me in the mailroom.
Curious, I thought to myself, heading over to pick it up.
I wasn't expecting anything in the mail, and part of me was hoping it was some sort of fluke, an error in the email system.
But, sure enough, I had a package of  Sharpies, not wrapped, no note, simply the package of Sharpies with my name on it.
I couldn't help myself, I started to laugh.
I said to the lady working in the mailroom, "I don't know who would have done this!"
She had a gleam in her eye, giggled a little bit.
"Did they just come and drop this off here?" I inquired.
She laughed a little bit more and said, "If I say anything I could get in trouble!" and walked off laughing.

So, three hours later, I still have not opened the package.
It has been puzzling me so much all afternoon.
Who sent them to me?
Should I open them?
What if it's some creepy guy who is stalking me?
What if it's some sweet, wonderful, secret admirer?
The person obviously has been paying attention because this type of pen was the only kind I used all last year.
Or is it a noob who simply knows who to ask the right questions?
It's crazy to let it get to me like this, but I MUST KNOW!!!!!!
Hopefully someone comes out soon....

I Don't Want a Boy

I don't want a boy pretending to be a man.
I don't want a boy with immature feelings.
A boy who is in his mid-twenties acting like he's still a teenager.
I don't want a boy.
I don't want a boy who would rather play video games than have an insightful conversation.
I don't want a boy who can't do what's right because it's too hard.
A boy who gives up when things get too rough.
I don't want a boy.
I don't want a boy who makes promises he cannot keep.
I don't want a boy who won't fully give his heart away.
A boy who is afraid to love.
I don't want a boy.


I want a man.
I want a man who just is.
I want a man who can express what is really going on beneath the surface.
A man, no matter what age, acts like a man.
I want a man.
I want a man who still likes to have fun, but would like to go for a walk rather than play Oblivion.
I want a man who will step up and do what is right, no matter the difficulty.
A man who will endure trials.
I want a man.
I want a man who does what he says he will.
I want a man who will completely give his heart to me.
A man that will love me with everything in his being, second only to God.

I want a man.
And I will wait for a man.

Emotions

A professor said in class this week:

Our bodies were not meant to carry the weight of what our emotions need to express.


I'm learning this balance.
Express what needs to be expressed.
Cry when I need to cry.
Share what I need to when it is appropriate to share.
Have others walk beside me, supporting me when I need supporting.
This life was not meant to be walked through alone.
And,
Our bodies were not meant to carry the weight of what our emotions need to express.

Beautiful in the Mundane

The other day I wrote about birds, but there is a whole other reason why I have become obsessed with birds.
The past week or so, I have felt this extreme desire, almost as if something is pulling me towards it, to experience the natural beauty of life.
I find myself fighting the urge to buy a bouquet of flowers for myself, going on walks in the middle of the night to gaze at the stars or at first light to watch the changing colours of the morning. When I go to bite into a peach or an apple, I am struck by the grandeur of something so simple, so mundane; I am overcome with the beauty of it.
Part of me wonders if I have finally snapped, if every stressor in my life has finally caused my mental strength to weaken to the point of giving in and return to that primeval place that something so basic in form and colour can fill me with pure euphoria.
And yet... there is that other part of me that is relishing this enjoyment of beauty.
When picking wildflowers is enough to brighten my whole day, or buying a $3 bouquet from the farmers market can make me smile for hours; when the orange glow of a sunset makes me feel a warmth and closeness to God, or the smell of a fresh summer's rain can clean a room better than any bottle of Febreze or Lysol ever could; when seeing a bird float and flutter across a blue sky makes me wish I could join him, or a gentle breeze can lift my spirits.
Is not that what beauty really is?
Maybe I have gone off the deep end. Maybe this is the start of some decent into becoming that hippie at the farmers market. Maybe this could lead me somewhere entirely different than I originally planned.
But for now, I am content to watch a sunrise.
I am content to buy myself flowers.
I am content to see beauty in the mundane things of life.
And maybe, someday, I will meet a man who feels the breath of God when he sees these things just as I do.

Birds

The past few days, I have had something very close to an obsession with birds.
Pictures of birds, the sight of them in the blue sky, any song or poem or verse I stumble across mentioning something about birds catches me.
I think part of it may be the fact that I often feel like a bird myself.
I don't want to be caged in by what people think of me.
I want to sing my heart out and not care who hears me.
I often think of my journey through life as a flight rather than a run or walk.
When I'm doing well, I feel as though I'm soaring.
When I'm not doing so well, I feel like I have been grounded.
This has been my general thought lately.
It as if I have been flying through a storm these past few months, these past few weeks, and have ended up with a broken wing.
I have been grounded.
Banished to muddle through what has hit me.
Figure out a way to heal, a way to lift myself up out of the mud, a way to reach the sky once again.
With God's help, I know I can soar again.
He just has to mend my wing first.

Tough Day

Since I'm assuming that most people who read my blog are getting there via facebook, I assume that most of you have already heard the news that my boyfriend and I broke up.
It came so suddenly that I did not see it until it had already hit me in the face.
So, this past week has been a difficult one for me.
Even though I know I am not alone, I feel like I suddenly am.
I feel as though I have been left alone to deal with David's death in all it's raw entirety and then to grieve Jon at the same time, in much the same way.
I usually don't make it more than a few hours without melting into a blob of sobbing, aching heart.
Today was especially hard.
It would have been my four month anniversary of dating my best friend.
But at the same time, I awoke this morning with the complete sickening realization that no matter how much I want it to happen, I don't think Jon and I will ever get back together.
Up until now, I had basically been in shock from the whole thing, feeling pain, but not completely comprehending it.
Now I comprehend it, and it hurts worse than before.
I guess all I can do is pray that a light begins to shine again, that God can restore my hope, because right now, I'm struggling.

Maybe I'm a Hippie....

I had an interesting discussion with a friend of mine tonight about Christianity that may just make you think I am a flower-child.

We were talking about the importance of love in the everyday walk; the importance of grace versus legalism.

When I think about my Christian walk, I simply have to say that it is the times I have defined my relationship with Christ as a journey of love that I have felt closest to Him.

Those times when I let Him romance to me, those are my most intimate experiences with God.
And, I can't help it, when I get to talk about His love, those are the times that I can't stop myself.
He is my lover.
I could go on and on about His love, His grace, how He romances me...
I think at times this can be a foreign concept to the church.
We get caught up in the legalism of Christianity far too easily.
It's a power struggle that each of us has to deal with.
Christianity is so interesting in the sense that we can't do ANYTHING to win God's love....
We discussed how this can be both a relief and stressful at the same time.
It can be a relief in the sense that we think, "Wow, I don't have to do anything to get God to love me! He just LOVES ME for who I am!"
But at the same time, we stress out about it.
We are such creatures of control.
We want to be able to control our own fate, our own destiny, to be assured in His love because we deserve it.
It makes us weak when we realize this, and it's definitely a struggle to let someone love us in such a helpless state.
And, honestly, I think it's that way because we know we don't deserve His love...
Another issue I see with this approach is that we often associate words like "lover" or "romance" to a simply human expression.
For some reason it has become something that is not divine in our minds.
"Romance" is going on a date or when someone brings you flowers, not usually associated with how God relates to us.
But, when you dig down deep into the Bible, into the heart of God, into the Gospel, you find love at the root of everything.
How many times have we heard God described as love?
Or you look at when Jesus broke the ten commandments down into two; love God, love others.
My friend made a comment, something that I have thought for a while, that every sin is basically falling short of the love we should be showing God or showing to each other.
Think about that for a second.
Just about every hurt, every issue that we have had with someone, every sin that has been committed against us... they all go back to a break in love.
Who ever thought it would be so hard to love?
So, maybe I will be labeled a hippie, and maybe deep down inside I am, but I would rather live a life full of God's love and let that love overflow into those around me, to become so weak in myself that all that is left is the love of God, to lose myself in His love, than to live a life where I feel powerful in legalism and yet not love...
God, give me love or give me nothing.

Trust Fall

Do you remember the game of trust-fall we used to play as kids? One person would stand straight as a board, arms folded across their chest, eyes closed, and would fall back, the other player behind them to catch them? If they stayed straight, and let the other person catch them, there was trust; if they bent their legs and slowly let themselves to the floor, they didn't trust their partner. 

I've been thinking more about trust lately and how hard it is to trust someone.
How it's hard to even trust God sometimes.
I was sitting in church yesterday, and I felt God asking me, "Do you trust me? Do you REALLY trust me?"
It kind of echoed through my mind in a way that I began to think more about the question, what does it mean for me to trust someone, to trust God, entirely?
If I were to be honest about it, I would probably say that I haven't been trusting God fully these last couple months.
In this time when I know that I should be falling back on Him and giving Him everything that is weighing me down, I seem to be trying to struggle through, and hike it out on my own.
I think subconsciousness, I feel as though God has let me down, that for some reason His actions have proven Him to be untrustworthy.
And maybe that is how a human mind will process it, but there is so much more at work that I cannot even see, that no one effected by a loss or a tragedy can see.
Just because someone has died, it does not make God's actions unjust, or make Him untrustworthy.
It just means that I cannot currently understand His ways.
I guess I need to get back to the place where I can know and feel that He is always supporting me, always walking me through, always doing what is best for me.
Know that He knows better than me.
In some ways, I feel as though I am relearning the whole God thing.
The patterns of faith that I must walk by have changed, but God has not.
I guess it's simply time to let go, and fall back, knowing full well that He will catch me.

To Write, or Not to Write....

I feel as though a great deal of my blogging has been cut off since David's death in April.
I think that a good portion of that has to do with my desire not to make this a shrine or a memorial to him.
I don't want to constantly drone on about my loss and how I am walking through that with the help of my God, my family, my boyfriend, and my friends.
Something inside of me says that you would not be interested in reading about that. (Though why you would truly be interested in reading my musings in the first place is beyond me.)
So, with that desire in mind, it is hard for me to find things to write about once again.
Part of me thinks that the writing process would maybe help me, make me find my voice once again, and maybe that would be worth it.
And yet, part of me does not want to have to look back over these posts and read what I was walking through this summer when I look at them again years from now.
Do you blame me?
Who really wants to relive by rereading their mourning process?
Reread the things that you felt and mulled over in the months after a searing loss?

I know someday I will come back and be able to write lighthearted joyful posts about the experiences I am having, the laughter Jon and I share, the funny things I get myself into.
Someday I will come back to writing posts on what God is speaking to my heart, things that I feel need to be shared with my generations.
But for now, I think I still need a break.
Take comfort though, because who knows what tomorrow may bring.
I may be surprised by an experience or by something that God reveals to me and will feel the unexplained urge to share it.
Who knows.
Really, only God knows.

Fathers Day

Father's day is an interesting conundrum for me.
I have very rarely spent father's day with my own biological father, and it has only been for the past few years that I spent father's day with a father figure.
And now, I'm back to spending father's day on my own in a sense.
This morning I was thinking about the past few father's days that I spent with David.
A couple years back on father's day, my mom was out of town, and my brother was busy somewhere else, so it was just David and I.
We didn't really have anywhere to go, so he wanted to do something fun with me.
He decided that it would be fun for him to teach me one of his old hobbies.
Golf.
So, after church, we went home, grabbed his old, dusty set of golf clubs and headed out to the driving range in Lima.
I remember being so disgusted by the golfing world.
I wasn't prissy, didn't look like I belonged on the golf course, wasn't good at hitting the ball, etc.
I think I even tossed out that golf was just an excuse for men to drive around in mini cars and hit things with sticks.
But, I remember that he enjoyed that so much.
He enjoyed taking me out and teaching me something new.
It meant a lot to me that he wanted to do that.
And, even though I complained and bucked about golfing, it is now a fond memory of David that I will forever treasure.

Been a While

It's been a little over two months since I wrote my last blog.
I got caught up in the winds of change, and have not made time to update the world on my life.
I was dealing with losing my wonderful stepfather, and I still deal with this loss on a daily basis. Some days are better than others.
I have stepped into an amazing relationship with my best friend. I fall more and more in love with him every day that I spend with him.
I miraculously made it through the gauntlet of finals and came out, not a failure, but someone on the Dean's Higher list.
I started up a summer job, working on the same team of painters at my college as I was on last summer. It's a steady job, and that's all I can really ask for at this point in life.
With all these changes, I have had to reshuffle how life goes on.
Time seems more sparse than it ever has before, and yet in some ways, I feel like I have all the time in the world.
I guess it is simply an adaptation process, and soon enough it will seem no different from anything else.

A Tale of Two Men

Six and a half years ago a man stepped into my life who changed everything.
He fell in love with my wonderful mother, my amazing brother, and I.
He married my mother only five and a half years ago, and quickly became another father to my brother and I, loving us like we were his own children.
He showed us what a relationship was supposed to look like.
He raised the bar for any friendship, any relationship, any man who would come in my life.
He taught us how to love and be loved.
This past Saturday, April 9th, 2011, my amazing stepfather, David, slipped into eternity to forever be with his savior.

Two months ago, I met a man who stepped into my life almost the same way David did. 

I met him quite by accident, but we quickly became friends. 

Best friends. 

He made it clear that he was interested in pursuing me beyond a friendship, interested in dating me. 

He wanted my mother and stepfather's approval first, and I felt the same. 

When David fell ill almost four weeks ago now, we were hoping to meet with my parents once he returned to health in order to get their approval of our relationship. 

When David went into the hospital, this wonderful man offered to drive me to the hospital any time I wanted to see David and my mother there. 

We went twice.

The first time, David was not entirely there, slipping in and out of consciousness, rambling nonsense with a couple moments of clarity, enough to tell me he loved me, that he wanted a hug, and how beautiful the thinks I am. 

But the second time, he pulled a fast one on all of us. 

He had my friend sit down and interviewed him.

I had never asked him to do such a thing. 

At the end of his "interview", David reached out his hand to my friend and gave not only his approval for him to date me, but his blessing. 

Three days later, he passed away. 

Two days after that, on April 11th, 2011, I started dating my best friend Jonathan. 

I don't think it is possible for me to express what an interesting conundrum it is to lose one incredible man in my life and gain another in the span of a few days. 

But, I am incredibly blessed none the less. 

Of the Story

When they came to the place of which God had told him, Abraham built the altar there and laid the wood in order and bound Isaac his son and laid him on the altar, on top of the wood. Then Abraham reached out his hand and took the knife to slaughter his son. But the angel of the Lord called to him from heaven and said, "Abraham, Abraham!" And he said, "Here am I." He said, "Do not lay your hand on the boy or do anything to him, for now I know that you fear God, seeing you have not withheld your son, your only son, from me."

Genesis 22:9-12

I have been reading The God Delusion by Richard Dawkins lately. 

Today I am reading a chapter called "The 'Good' Book and The Changing Moral Zeitgeist". 

In this chapter, Dawkins is basically attempting to tear apart the bible, saying that all the stories in it are irrelevant to our lives, that they are a bunch of irrelevant, irrational stories that should have no place in our lives.

One of the stories that he attempted to tear apart is the one above. 

He tries to make this sequence in Abraham's life seem stupid.

He tries to convince us that we shouldn't follow after a God who would command a man to sacrifice his only son and then turn out to be "only joking after all".

I think Dawkins is missing the point.

I feel as though most of the bible is a beautiful narrative of God romancing the human race. 

I read sections of the bible, such as this, and see the wonderful foreshadowing that God set up hundreds, even thousands of years before the miraculous event of my Saviour's death and resurrection. 

I see a constant thread running through the bible always pointing towards the life of Christ and the redemption that comes through loving Him. 

It's beautiful.

So, Dawkins, I hope one day you can see what I see. 

Beauty and love. 

Abraham's Sacrifice

Rembrant

Stupid Question

About three weeks I got my hairs cut.
And by that, I mean there was about 8 inches more of my hair on my head three weeks ago than there is now.
So, what amazes me is one simple question that I have been asked so many times since that day.
Did you get your hair cut?
So often I just want to turn the question around and ask them, "I don't know, did I get my hair cut???"
But I respond with a cordial, "Yes I did!" and a smile.
It's all I can do from pointing out the stupidity of the previous question...

How Bad Do You Want It?

It is March.
It is March of my Junior year of undergraduate studies.
My undergraduate work is coming to a close.
Much faster than I thought it would.
It seems crazy that in just a little over a year I will be leaving this place.
I have been looking more into graduate programs and thinking more about what I really want to make out of my life, and a question keeps coming up in my head.
How badly do you want it?
You may be thinking, "Paige, what do you mean by "it"?"
It is my future.
It is my doctorate in psychology.
It is what I want to do.
It is everything that I am working and striving towards.
It is my desire to go to the University of Rochester.
How badly do you want it?
Are you willing to give up time with friends to get it?
Are you willing to do extra work to get it?
Are you willing to push yourself that much harder to get it?
How badly do you want it?
This question resonated in me recently when I received an email from the head of the psychology department here asking a couple different psychology majors if we would like to help out with some of the leg work for a professor who is in the process of getting published right now.
The question of, "Are you willing to sacrifice up to 40 hours of the next few weeks to help with this project?" was raised in the email.
No credit is being offered for my time.
No grade will be given.
So, what is the purpose of it?
In psychology, everything is in being published.
If you can write on a resume that you have helped out with research, that you have been published, that you have even done the leg work for a publication, you place yourself that much higher.
You look that much more appealing to graduate schools.
You have that much better of a chance to get into the competitive program that you desire to get into.
How badly do you want it?
My answer was that I want it bad.
I want to go to UofR.
I want to get that PhD in Clinical Psychology.
I want to succeed.
I want to shine brightly in an area that does not have many Christians.
And I am going to do it.
Get ready to watch me fly.

People Who Have Influenced my Life; Part I

I was thinking about my life and how there are certain people who have impacted my life, certain people who, whether directly or indirectly, have shaped me.
Some people are nothing more than someone that I have read about, followed on twitter, and read their blogs.
Other people have had a direct hand in my life, sharing insight, wisdom, and directed me.
So, I thought it might be fun to write a series talking about the people who have impacted me the most.

Today, I want to talk about Renee Yohe.
I have never met Renee, but this woman is an amazing inspiration to me.
If you have ever heard of the charity To Write Love On Her Arms, Renee is the girl who started it all.
Abused, on drugs, depressed, and ready to take her own life, a couple friends lifted her up and supported her as she came to know Christ and walk through the healing process.
If you want her full story, check it out on TWLOHA's website.
I see what this woman has gone through, and who she has become, and all the good that has come out of her life, all the people who have been saved, all of the hope that has been spread, and I can only hope that I can influence people in the same way one day.
Maybe I won't found a widely popular nonprofit organization, maybe I won't have a movie made out of my life, maybe I won't get to tour the world sharing hope through my trials, but I can touch the people around me, I can share hope and love with those around me.
I'm thankful that she was willing to share her story.

Working to be Loved

I remember having a conversation with a friend of mine once, and I remember them saying how they felt as thought they needed to try, to strive to achieve God's love for them.
I do not remember what my response was. And I'm not going to try to make up one.
What I do know though is that we have all felt this at some point or another.
We have to work to be loved by God.
It's amazing to me that we feel like this.
When you think about it, when you get down to the basics of the eternally haunting question Why are we here? I can only think of one response.
We are here to love God and be loved by Him.
It's an eternal romance that has spanned millenniums.
But all our striving to be good enough for God's love, all of what we work for, what we think we need to be, it all gets in the way of that romance.
I was watching some of the second season of Grey's Anatomy last night with my family, and there is one scene that keeps popping in my head as I'm writing this.
Dr. Burke, a perfectionistic surgeon comes into his bedroom to find his girlfriend, Dr. Yang, eating Chinese food on the bed. He's asked her to move in with him multiple times, and yet she still refuses. (I do not condone this behavior, just recapping the situation.)
Burke looks at her and says, "I am Preston Burke, a widely renowned cardiothorasic surgeon. I am a professional. And more than that I am a good and kind person. I am a person that cleans up behind myself. I am a person that cooks well. And you, you are an unbelievable slob. A slovenly, angry intern. I am Preston Burke. And you, you are the most competitive, most guarded, most stubborn, most challenging person I have ever met. And I love you. What the hell is the matter with you that you wont just let me?"
I laughed at the time, thinking it was funny, but thinking of it now, I realize that's exactly how it is with God and us.
God is perfect in every way. He can love us like no other. And yet, we won't let Him love us to the extent that He wants to.
I certainly don't let Him love me the way He wants to.
I guess that's something that I constantly want to work on.
I want to notice the little things that God does for me that He means to romance me by.
A warm breeze, a clear night's sky, a song I love coming on the radio, little things that are wonderful that God put there at that exact moment for me to notice and remember His love.

Home Again

Home again, home again... How I long to be home again...
When I first came to college, I had this aversion to spending time at home.
I think I was afraid that if I went home, I was not going to want to go back to school, that I would start to slip back into how life used to be and I would give up on my dreams and passions, the things that I fight to hold on to.
I cannot truly say for certain that this is what kept me from the farm house in my home town, so separate from the rest of the world, but looking back from where I stand now, I can see how that could very well be my subconscious thought at that time in my life.
Now I view home differently.
This little old farm house that I now sit in, surrounded by fields, buffeted so strongly by the wind that my bed shakes ever so slightly, has become a sanctuary for me.
When I need a reprieve from life, when I need to rejuvenate myself body, mind, and spirit, it is the place that I long to run to.
And I hope to keep my parent's house just that way.
It will always be a place of peace and sanctuary in my mind.
Tonight, I stepped out on the back patio for just a few minutes to enjoy the (relatively) warm breeze and stare up at the stars.
I cannot see the stars when I am at school... At least not in the same way.
They're dull, blurred out, faded from the city lights.
But tonight, standing out on the back patio, the wind whipping around me, tossing my hair everywhere, I was able to see them so clearly, and for a moment, all the stress that has been on me, all the planning for my future, all the interviews, all the applications, all the disappointments, everything just melted away.
It was just me and the sky.
It was just me and God
And for a minute, I was reminded of how blessed I am to have a God who loves me so much that he tailor made that specific moment to romance my heart, to say, I'm still here, I haven't left, lean on Me this next week, regain your strength from Me...
Mmmm....
I get so caught up in life that I stop letting Him romance me.
He is my God, my father, my friend.... my lover.
Maybe I'll save that concept for another post.
For now, I am simply glad to be home to rest, relax, and destress.
Home again, home again... How glad I am to be home again.

Hair

I've had long hair for a fairly long time now.
The last time I cut it short was back in like third grade.
For the past couple years, I have toyed with the idea of cutting my hair short, doing something different with it, but I have never gotten up the courage to actually do it.
Right now, I'm about due for another haircut, and, as just about every other time I get my hair cut, I've been dancing around cutting it all off.
But this time feels a little different for me.
Instead of just cutting it off, I've been thinking about donating it, providing someone with cancer or a child with hairloss the ability to be confident again.
Make a difference while getting a new style.
It makes it feel like I'm doing something more than simply cutting my hair.
It gives me the courage to actually go through with it this time.
Besides the fact that I am basically in love with this haircut:

We'll see...
If I actually go through with it, I'll be posting pictures in a week or so!

Stressed Out

Life's been stressing me out lately.
Just a combination of not having a job, preparing for grad school, and applying to be an RA next year, life's been full of one stress after another.
In order to counteract this stress, I've been trying to pick up little mindless activities to help me relax.
I've started knitting again.
I've been journaling more.
And... I've been colouring.
Yep. I'm becoming something like a little kid and a grandma combined.
Ah, well... Every time I get stressed, I know I have something relaxing to go to.

Who I am

A friend said the kindest thing to me today, something that I really needed to hear right now.
He said that he was really proud of me.
He said he was proud of the fact that I have been able to change, to grow, to become closer to God, to become more sure of myself in who I am as a person and as a Christ follower.
I have been friends with this guy for years, went to youth group together, and it was good to just hear someone from my past recognize how much I've grown.
Over the past two years, I feel as though I have changed so much. People who know me now would not even recognize the Paige I was just two years ago, so they cannot even begin to comprehend this change. And there are so few cross overs from before to now, maybe two or three who were consistently in my life before and now, that other people only get glimpses of the "new Paige". Those people only know who I was.
And that is one of the things that I am not happy about.
I don't like who I used to be.
I was volatile, overly emotional.
I do not believe my anchor was as solidly in God as it should have been.
I guess the thing that was best for me was the fact that someone actually recognized that I have changed immensely, and that they liked that change.

Snow Day

I was severely disappointed to wake up this morning to only a few inches of snow. 

So, I came up with with this theory that the amount of snow we actually get is inversely proportionally to how much people worry about the pending storm. 

Indie Movie

I adore really bad indie films.
Somehow they just work their way into your heart and the art of them makes you keep coming back.
With this love of indie films, I have come to the conclusion that if you took all of the really awkward moments from my life together, it would make a really funny, really horrible indie film.
It would not follow the typical girl-meets-boy, girl falls for boy, girl and boy end up together story line, but rather would be a collection of mini-stories, each showing a piece of my personality in some sick, satirical fashion that people would groan in shock over initially but grow fonder of as each clip passed by.
By the end, people would be oddly in love with this eccentric girl and her awkwardly pieced together life that somehow works.
I'll melt the hearts of millions with my simple, strange stories.
Hmm...
I think I'll go start writing the script now.

Top Four Reasons Why "Christian Dating" Sucks

I wrote this back in September, and just recently found it again. When I read it, I thought it might be fun to share! Enjoy!

Have you ever seen that Christian couple that is "waiting for God to give them the go-ahead" on their relationship? They say they're not dating --they would NEVER move faster than God!-- but they talk to/about each other all the time, they go places together, and they talk about how their partner is the "type of person they want to marry". These are the "Christian daters", and I was one of them for FAR too long. From my experiences, I have compiled a list of the top four reasons why Christian dating sucks.

4. What do you call them when you're not "together" anymore? That oh so awkward topic of ex's is made that much more complex by the fact that they don't really fall into the exact category of ex-girlfriend or ex-boyfriend. If you don't get it, here's an example:
Paige - "You'll NEVER believe who I ran into the other night!"
Friend - "You're right, just tell me."
Paige - "My friend... Well, my... This guy I basically dated for like 6 months of my life."
Yeah, let's just avoid the awkwardness and just stick to calling the kettle black.

3. You think you're being "quiet" about it, but everyone knows. C'mon.... Do you REALLY think people are THAT stupid?! Trust me! I've been there! You think, oh, we won't tell any body! We'll keep it real quiet, real secret so when we finally come out with it, everyone will be super happy for us! Yeah... If it only worked that way! If people are around you, they're going to hear you talk about the person, see you light up when he/she comes around, and will be able to tell that you genuinely want to be near them. All these clear indicators point to only one option, you're "dating" without the title.

2. You distance yourself from God. Huh? God DESTINED us to be together! Hah! If God ordained you two to be together, you would not feel the need to keep it a secret, and you'd just commit to each other. Essentially, when you "Christian date," you are putting your feelings and your own selfish desires, along with the other person in the relationship ahead of God. You are putting God second and He does not bless anything that puts Him second. Focus yourself on God, seek after His heart above all else, pray for your future spouse, and God will bless you in more ways than you can imagine, just not necessarily in the ways that you think.

1. Lack of commitment. When you are just Christian dating, there is no title, as I previously stated. And that means that when one party wants out of the not-relationship, they can get off scott-free with none of the messy breakup stuff! ...Or so it seems. It actually creates more problems for the party who is essentially being ditched. They don't know if they did something, or if the other party simply got bored with them. Either way, it's a horrible thing to do to someone or have done to you. I'm not saying that placing the title of girlfriend or boyfriend on someone will automatically give them the common courtesy of telling you why they want out of the relationship, but it will institute more reasons of why they should.

NOTE: I am in no way saying that people should not wait to date. It is my strong belief that you need to make sure that it is God's will for you to be with someone before you start dating them, but at the same time, if you think you are supposed to be with someone, don't go sneaking around acting like you're dating when you say that you're not.