Financial responsibility according to Jesus

Of course nothing in my life goes smoothly all at once. Shocking, right?

I am now a statistic, just one of the millions of college grads out there in need of a full-time job to pay the bills. Actually, the only bill I need money to pay for right now is my credit card bill. Everything else...well, such is the privilege of living at Hotel Mom and Dad. Some essentials, like food and rent, are gladly paid for. Go ahead and judge me if you want. At least I can have my cat for a few more months before I come up with some way to get the heck out of this town.

I miss having regular hours. I miss having cash in my pocket. As I am lamenting my sad, sad situation, I get a letter in the mail. It's from a girl in my Bible Study group, asking for financial support for a mission trip to Amsterdam next spring. A trip I really really really wanted to go on, but alas, it costs money I do not have.

So I'm a little jealous of her right now...pathetically so, since I have been to Europe more times than most people I know. But still. I am jealous. And, at first, a tad resentful. When it was my turn to raise support for a church trip, my first thought toward the whole process was, How can I, a broke college grad, ask other broke college grads to give me money?? I didn't want to do it, but I sent a few support letters for my summer in Colorado. I didn't get many responses. But, as God would have it, my Jewish grandparents ended up funding the rest of the support money I needed to go. My Jewish grandparents. For a Christian leadership program! Clearly, my God knows how to take care of people in ways they least expect.

Meanwhile, I vented to Josh the other day "This whole year is turning out to be a total waste! What's the point of taking a year off from school if I'm just sitting on my butt drinking coffee at Scribbles all day not making any money?!"

He just stared at me. "So, uh...you mean the whole year was a waste? Really?"

I realize what I've just said, and immediately backtrack. "I mean, financially speaking. Obviously this year isn't a complete waste, since I met you and all..." Luckily I didn't have to explain myself too much, since he knew what I really meant ;) But still, I am more than a little upset at how this year is not what I thought it would be. Then again, as Josh rightly pointed out, it has also turned out to be a year of unexpected gifts...so I guess I can't complain too much :)

With that in mind, I decided to rethink the whole support-raising situation for my friend. I know how stressful it is to try and tactfully ask people for money. No matter how much you stress that it's for a good cause, the bottom line is, you are still asking people for money. It's not an easy thing to do. But I know the importance of this trip. I know there will be some sight-seeing involved, but I know that the greater purpose of it is to bring a much-needed message to a spiritually impoverished nation in need of hope.

I have exactly twenty dollars in my wallet right now. All I really plan to spend it on is coffee. If I give my friend my last twenty dollars, I pray that God will use that act of giving not just to help her be able to go to Amsterdam, but to teach me a lesson on faithfulness as well. I'm not expecting to give my friend money and have God reward me by dropping a check with the amount for a whole semester of grad school tuition right out of the sky. I know He doesn't work that way. But what I do expect is that He will use my donation to show me that there are plenty of people more in need than I am, and if I can use what He's given me to help them, then surely He will use whatever resources he sees fit to take care of my needs as well.

It seems like such an archaic thing to do...to trust an invisible being with my financial needs. But, as one friend of mine pointed out earlier today, how can I trust God with my eternal salvation, but not with smaller things like money? I guess, when put that way, my fears don't make much sense.

And with that, I enclose my last twenty dollars to my beautiful, passionate, wonderful sister in Christ, Anna Michelle. I pray your trip is life-changing and full of surprises :)

Dissecting the Infamous Cliche

I confess...I am about as cliche as they come. All English-major knowledge aside, I am such a sucker for them. Maybe I'm a true romantic, maybe I'm cheesy, maybe I'm flat-out ridiculous...most likely all of the above. How often do you have to say something before it becomes just another expression to be stowed in a generational vault?

It makes me wonder, then, for all its many uses and contexts, how "I love you" never seems to get old.

"I miss you" still means your presence is notably absent.

Can we ever say these things too much?

Maybe we can. Maybe we need to start considering how our actions line up with these words.

Maybe love is accepting that chivalry has merely been forgotten, not killed. It just needs to be brought back.

Maybe caring for someone is more than offering practical advice, but refusing to cringe when they cry so hard that their snot gets all over your shirt. Because what ordinary person can handle someone at their worst, and consequently appreciate them more at their best?

It's easy to love and care for those who show the same qualities to you...anyone can do that. It doesn't take any extraordinary talent or depth of character. But loving others who look at you as someone who isn't good enough to even be the scum on the bottom of their sneakers...that's real love. It's often mistakenly labeled as insanity or even codependency. But so many of us are afraid to put ourselves out there, to be chewed up and spit back out.

I have a better understanding of what this looks like having been a waitress, believe it or not. I don't want to be someone who bends over backwards for customers who treat me like a lower-class citizen because I'm desperate for a tip, and don't want them calling my manager on me. I want to be someone who willingly -- maybe someday, when I'm a little more mature, even joyfully -- serves others because I understand how much of a chore it is for others to love the worst in me.

And of course I am well aware of what the worst of me looks like. Denying it won't hide its existence. But accepting that fact about me makes it a little bit easier to take the baby steps toward forgiving someone for even the most vile of offenses...because my own disgust for the weaknesses of other people doesn't make me any better.

This is my cliched sermonette for the evening :)

And this is the guy who has reminded me that chivalry is still alive and well:

Whoever came up with the idea for ugly Christmas sweater parties is a genius. I'm kind of a sucker for those too.

All the many roads we took to get here

I think often of how certain events in my life don't seem to make sense, yet somehow they connect like puzzle pieces in ways I never expected. It happens often over the course of several years. All my journals are proof of this, and that is why I hold on to them, even the embarrassing ones :)

I meet and talk to a lot of people who feel discouraged that so many of their prayers go unanswered. I blame the "fast" society that we live in, where everything is instantaneous. You don't even have to get out of your car to return library books anymore (at least not in my home town, you don't). We're so used to -- entitled, even -- to having the things we want happen when we want them to, and God forbid we have to be patient, well, then maybe it just isn't worth it (yes, I realize the irony that this is coming from me, the most impatient person in the world. I accept this. What can I say, I am a work in progress!).

When I first became a Christian three years ago, I wrestled with the whole "sharing your faith" (or whatever you want to call it) aspect of it. I didn't understand it. I mean, we all know and despise bible thumpers. I grew up Jewish, I have been thumped by many a bible in my time. But I misunderstood the concept. It's not about converting people. It's about sharing a message of hope, but only with those who are willing and ready to hear it.

I naturally assumed this would be my worst struggle with Leadership Training in Colorado this summer. I knew it would be uncomfortable. But then, in March of my senior year, I ended a destructive relationship I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. I had to be broken -- I knew that's what God was doing -- to understand "Oh, okay, so this message of hope that I'm supposed to be preaching actually has some purpose to it." I mean, why go through your life hating yourself, feeling worthless because the guy you love hurts you and is now with someone else, when you can survive and thrive instead? Not really a complicated choice, is it? Well, it was when I realized that finding my purpose means falling apart first. Only Jesus is the answer for the healing I needed. I don't care if people disagree with me. I'm still gonna offer it anyway, the same way other people would recommend counseling, ice cream, and Oprah.

So the evangelism training for LT became less of a big deal than it was before; instead, healing was my top priority. And, lo and behold, sharing my faith became easier, because I had motivation for it that was more genuine than simply "I'm a Christian and I have to do this." Broken people are the best ministers to other broken people, I think. And so far, I think it's quite effective. As I said, I'm not on a mission to convert anybody. I'm just sharing what I'm learning, and how it's changing my life for the better.

So fast forward to this fall semester: I surprised myself by voluntarily participating in my church's outreach program. We basically go around surveying people about their spiritual beliefs (if they want to). We've had some really good conversations so far. If nothing else, we've proven that not all Christians have an agenda to boost the number of congregants in their churches and put more money in the collection plate.

Anyway...long story short...it is because of my willingness to push through the awkwardness of talking to strangers in order to share a valuable message that I was in the student center and ran into an old friend...and old friend who, to my great shock, actually ended up becoming more than just a friend...and I am finally starting to remember what happiness feels like again. God has blessed me so much. I don't deserve it, but I am so grateful.

But as rewarding as this journey has been, it didn't happen without unintentionally causing pain to someone else. Someone I still deeply care about, even if he no longer believes it. He has no idea how truly sorry I am. But I am praying that God does healing in his journey too, and someday in the future, all the roads will meet and this craziness of life will actually make some sense.

SB is 23!

So, I'm now 23. Have looked 17 for about 5 years now...or maybe younger than that. Young enough to be asked by two different waitresses if I wanted a kids menu (a KIDS menu???). They say I'll be greatful for these assumptions by the time I'm 40...too bad that's another 17 years from now.

Alwell. It was a fun time. I got to see some close friends in sunshine-y Texas. Then I came back to Ohio where the temperature was 50 degrees lower, and the sun almost nonexistant. Surprise surprise.

Sharon and I have the same birthday!



She's exactly 3 years older than me

As for gifts, I got time with amazing friends...

And...last but not least...

Yeah, that's right. Pretzel earrings!! Apparently Justin knows me well...not to mention that the A&M shirt, the earrings, AND the pretzel and pickle Christmas ornaments were ALL stuffed inside a pretzel box.

Don't worry, I got to actually eat the pretzels that came with the box too :)

Oh, and this...

That sucker is THRICE thickness of an Auntie Anne's pretzel in Ohio...I was impressed. Then again, "everything is bigger in Texas!" I should have known. Forgive me, I'm just an ignorant ol' yankee.

The big dreams of a broke college graduate: a rant

I hate how everything worth doing in this world costs money. The people who are most qualified for professions that involve saving lives, curing illnesses, or bringing justice to crime victims are stuck in debt because everything is so damn expensive. At the same time, we can't devalue the "working man" jobs as alternatives for those who never had the chance to pursue higher education because those are the jobs that we never think about, but we would be screwed if they did not exist: the garbage men, the postal workers, the plumbers, the mechanics...

I got into this debate with my mom a couple days ago: is it necessary for some students to fall through the cracks, so to speak, so that we have people to fulfill those job positions? Is this sucky economy locking the newest graduating classes into jobs that may not allow them to use their full potential, since all the higher paying jobs require training that intelligent but indebted students just can't afford?

I am writing this, if you couldn't already tell, from the perspective of a disgruntled college graduate who is struggling to choose between a grad school with a perfect chaplaincy program, but has a tuition cost that will require selling off my firstborn to pay for it, and one with a not-so-specific-to-my-chosen-field-of-study program with a surprisingly reasonable tuition cost...and my heart is torn. The decision about which grad school I end up going to can't be made solely based on the cost, can it?

Perhaps I should start spending my tip money on lottery tickets, put out an ad for a sugar daddy on Craigslist, or sacrifice my dream of an apartment with a wall-to-wall bookshelf and settle for living in a shoebox. I am already feeling jaded and bitter about a future that has barely even started. *Sigh*

Then again, Joan of Arc was a fifteenth-century peasant with zero education who was somehow able to lead an army and change the world. I mean, if that was doable, then surely I can find a way to impact the world without having to sell my soul to pay off my inevitable debt...right? Right?

I had this picture in my head/Of where I ought to be and when/But it's just like the good advice/That John gave when he said/Life is what happens while we're busy making plans... "Sandcastles," Kate Voegele.

On a positive note, here's a little puppy cuteness to brighten your day:

"Why you put me in da sink, Mom?"

Answer: Because we found you sleeping in your own pee, you silly pup!

Kim Kardashian and homosexuals didn't ruin marriage...we all did

I hate to jump on the "Let's hate on Kim Kardashian for making a mockery of marriage" bandwagon, mostly because all the punch lines have been shared to death already. But this picture on my Facebook newsfeed got me thinking:

I agree with it, for the most part. There is a lot of hypocrisy about the sanctity of marriage being perpetrated by straight people. But using a celebrity like Kim as a means to expose this hypocrisy is wrong for two reasons:

One, I think it's safe to assume that 72 day long marriages are rare among average, non-famous people. Whether or not you believe that the divorce was planned right along with the wedding for publicity's sake, the reality is that Kim's fame alone makes her an unlikely candidate for a long, happy marriage. We all know that celebrity marriages tend to have an extremely limited shelf life, as they are often made on a foundation of jello instead of genuine commitment. I mean, if you're bordering on becoming a has-been before you even start to get gray hair, a high-budget wedding is a great way to get your name back in the press.

Secondly, getting back to my point about how Kim's divorce makes the debate on gays ruining marriage seem silly: the quote from the above picture makes the faulty assumption that divorce is not a big deal to Christians. Obviously, Christians can and do get divorced, but that's no excuse for the church to suddenly change its stance. Jesus' teachings don't change just because society does, and "everybody's doing it" is no excuse for down-playing the seriousness of marital commitment.

I'm not about to argue why I don't believe in gay marriage, but from the Christian perspective, I will say that it isn't fair at all to blame homosexuals for ruining the sanctity of marriage. That is one thing that picture gets right: straight people, Christian or not, are doing a great job of that all on their own.

The gay marriage debate will go on, but in order for their stance to be taken seriously, Christians need reminders on what "Till death do us part" means just as much as everybody else, before they open their mouths to protest the nuptials of their homosexual neighbors.

Long story short, human beings are fickle creatures, regardless of sexual orientation, who want to have their wedding cake and eat it too. And in other news, water is wet.


Last but not least: WE GOT OUR PUPPIES! Introducing Oliver and Dodger, the newest Caplin critters:

The new brothers first meeting: "What is this thing, and why is it in my space???"

I'm in love!!!



A huge step forward

Well I'm a little late in posting this, since I was overwhelmed with giddyness about Fall Getaway. But now, I'm all caught up on the "Got Consent" Facebook page and this article marks the beginning of a new era.

"The Uniform Crime Report Subcommittee voted unanimously to change the definition of rape, which had not been changed for 80 years (!) and rape will now be defined as, “penetration, no matter how slight, of the vagina or anus with any body part or object, or oral penetration by a sex organ of another person, without the consent of the victim.”

To put it in simple terms: by changing the official definition of rape, more rapes will be officially counted, thereby allowing more resources to be targeted towards prevention and prosecution."

While this is a change that is absolutely necessary, I can't help but think about the new can of worms that has just been opened. Rape is extremely difficult to prove in many cases as it is, especially within the context of intimate relationships. I could be wrong about this, but I would assume that with non-intercourse rapes, there would be less evidence to collect in a rape kit...which could make for a more difficult case to take to trial.

This is not to say that these other forms of assault should not be reported...but based on the research I've done, newspaper articles I've read, and talks with a few friends who work and/or volunteer at domestic violence clinics, I have very little faith that the current justice system actually delivers in many of these cases...not that I can really blame it entirely. If there's not enough evidence, there's not enough evidence...and I do believe that it is a better alternative to let a guilty person walk free than place a potentially innocent one behind bars.

Now that the legal definition of rape has been expanded, I can only hope that more people, men and women alike, will educate themselves and understand that the extent to which a person is violated doesn't really matter. What matters is that no one has the right to defile what is not rightfully theirs. Humans do not belong to each other, our bodies are not commodities to be used at anyone's disposal. We do not value them enough.

This isn't completely related, but thought-provoking nonetheless:

Dying of thirst by the side of the fountain

So I just got back from another awesome fall retreat with my church, where the theme was why truth matters: this "truth" being who we are, who we were created to be, and how the lies the world tells about what we need to have a secure identity impact the way we live.

It's not like we don't know that the mechanisms used in advertising are often harmful: it's always assumed that you can never lose too much weight, never have teeth that are too white, never have hair that's too shiny, and if you don't have these things, you're not worth as much as someone who does. Someone else's success is often the catalyst for someone else's harm. I don't stop and wonder often enough how truly damaging it is to just take in these messages so quickly, and believe the truth in those more than the truth God says about me: that I'm unique, fearfully and purposefully made. I give so much lip service to that truth without really, truly believing it. Why is that?

I have to assume that the speaker, Tammy Smith (whose book Soul Healing has changed my former roommate's life, so she tells me) was partly motivated by anger as well as passion to make a career out of speaking on this topic. It must be frustrating, maybe even infuriating, to know that so many people are wasting their lives trying to look or become like something they simply weren't meant to be.

Many people go through their whole lives never figuring out where their true gifts lie because they're too busy copying other people's. God had something specifically in mind for every person he created, he's the only one who can truly fulfill a person's hunger for love, and yet so many people just don't realize it. It's like 90% of the world is dying of thirst by the side of the fountain, and it's such a senseless tragedy. Who wouldn't feel angry knowing that?

Sitting in that session, I realized something obvious: I can't afford to live a wasted life. And yet...I have, by holding on to misplaced anger. Anger over things that I can't change. I can't go back and re-live the day I met the person who is the cause of almost every insecurity I have today...it's over, it's done. So what am I doing about it now?

I hope that one day, as all that anger fades and I experience true joy again, that I'll still remember the hurt I once felt, and never ever forget it, because there will still be countless men and women trapped where I once was...and just remembering that dark pit I once lived in, even if I'm not living in it anymore, is what will make my message genuine. The fight against the enemy's lies is vicious, ugly, and painful, but I can't think of anything else more worthy to do with my life than that.

I want to be someone who remembers what God says is true about me even on days when I hate the way I look and don't want to go outside; on days when I feel fat and bloated and cranky and PMS-y and no one wants to be around me. Moods fluctuate, trends change, but my identity in Christ should not. And the sooner I start living like I truly believe this, the sooner I can be of use to help other people see the futility of chasing satisfaction in temporary things that will only let them down.

What true joy looks like...pretending to be five years old again on a swing set, where grad school applications and the stresses of job hunting are far, faaaar away...

Inexcusable excuses, part 2

One of the reasons I rarely go to see "chick flicks" anymore (besides the ridiculous jacked up prices of movie tickets) is because of the same objectifying material that is recycled over and over again. Consider the stereotypical female protagonist: a self-sufficient and obviously attractive woman who, for reasons us average women cannot understand, just can't seem to find the right man.

Cue the stereotypical male antagonist: a beer-guzzling, skirt-chasing sleezebag who sleeps with anything that moves. And every viewer knows, even before the opening credits finish, that these two archtypes will somehow end up together. The best, most current example of this ridiculousness is The Ugly Truth, with Katherine Heigl and Gerard Butler.

The lack of originality is actually the least of my frustrations: it's the never-ending cycle of dehumanizing rhetoric, and the expectation that eventually, the so-called "strong, independent" woman will give in to it. It's all a part of my new fascination: rape culture. Consider how many times you've heard remarks like these:

"I'm going to make it with her."

"Tonight's the night I'm going to score."

"What a piece of meat."

Pretty commonplace, right? Consider these statistics as well:

One in twelve male students surveyed had committed acts that met the legal definitions of rape or attempted rape.

84 percent of those men who committed rape said that what they did was definitely not rape. (http://www.aaets.org/arts/art13.htm)

For the record, I'm well aware that men think about sex. A lot (as do women). Being tempted is not wrong. Wanting sex is not wrong. What is inexcusable, however, is the acceptance of women being treated as commodities or prizes. I don't know why, in this day and age, it is socially acceptable for men to think that way. It's inexcusable that there are men who resort to coercive tactics to get what they want, truly believing that as long as they aren't using excessive force, they aren't actually committing a crime.

This may leave many people wondering, how exactly does a guy know when a woman is giving consent? Well honestly, a guy should know a woman well enough to know what she wants and what she doesn't want. And if he doesn't, well...consider it an incentive to actually get to know a woman before deciding to sleep with her. Sure, it takes time, but it's a better alternative to being labeled a sex offender.

The more I research this, the more convinced I am that this is the direction I am meant to go as a chaplain (assuming that's still what I want to do once I get my Masters in divinity). I don't know if women's clinics/counseling centers for abuse survivors are in need of counselors in the clergy, but I am so sick of seeing women trying to find their identities in men, even if those men fail to treat them as the daughters of God that they really are. The lies this world will believe just break my heart. I am making it my mission to do something about it.

Inexcusable excuses

Most women I know have heard these warnings at some point in their lives: Always guard your drink at parties. Don't lead a guy on by wearing a short skirt. Never walk alone at night.

And just about everyone has heard this expression: "Boys will be boys" (and curiously, there is no established age limit on "boys," as if some men are incapable of growing up).

This dichonomy has become a fascination to me lately. The above warnings may come from a well-intentioned place, but they are misguided. They seem to imply that a woman could be partially responsible for being assaulted or harassed. Yet in this culture, men are excused, to an extent, for disrespectful behavior because they're supposedly wired to be perverts.

If I were a guy, I'd be highly offended by the implication that my brain is located next to my balls. And yet, so many men revel in it, because it's such a convenient fallback. If society conditions men to be slaves to their hormones, then how can they ever be taken seriously as intelligent, moral human beings? Furthermore, if the woman is always blamed for somehow "provoking" unwanted attention to herself, then what is she expected to do...never go out in public, or dress like she time-traveled from the 18th century if she does?

The way I see it, we are asking the wrong questions. We need to stop questioning women's wardrobe choices, implying that it's a justification for assault or harassment. We need to stop asking why they find themselves in compromising situations with men who want to take advantage of them. It's one thing to miscalculate the risk, especially if alcohol is involved; it's completely another to have specific boundaries, and be unfairly blamed if those boundaries are crossed without consent.

Conversely, we should ask ourselves why we have made it acceptable for men to "rate" women based on sex appeal, and to treat them as trophies or conquests. And furthermore, why are women deemed slutty for doing the exact same thing?

There is something wrong with our sexual ethics is we continue to justify these attitudes. We are missing crucial opportunities to respect and learn about both sexes if the perpetrators of this blatant rape culture are written off as nothing more than "jerks," while their female targets are typically assumed to be temptresses.

Funny how I have a laundry list of reasons why certain aspects of feminism are damaging to women (not to mention that someone once told me I couldn't be a feminist because I'm also against abortion), but this is one issue I've grown passionate about lately, and I can't sit back and accept that this is simply "the way things are."

Okay, end rant. In other news, feel free to ooh and aah over these new puppies my family is adopting:

Names, as of now, are still TBA.