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.