My Odd Passion.

I have a rather odd passion. I have been aware of this calling in my life since I was teenager, however I didn't recognize it then. I first began to recognize it my 3rd year at Teen Mania. I was 20 years old.

This passion I have is rather hard to describe. It is also rather hard to pinpoint. The passion of my heart has not traveled to my head. If it had, I would have a clearer idea of how I was to act up this passion. So I guess it would be better to say that I have a fairly inactive, not dormant, but inactive passion in my life.

Are you curious to know what it is? Drum roll, please!

I LOVE MEN. And when I say that, I don't mean it as "I'm romantically attracted to men,"...though that is quite true...it is not the meaning behind this proclamation. Somewhere deep inside of me is a roaring desire to see men be men. To be there for the gap as a boy turns into a man, the man that describes this: "...when I became a man, I put the childish things away." - 1 Cor. 13 To watch a man make the right decision, delights my soul to no measure. In my life, I feel there is no greater calling than to influence a man.

But...here is the kicker. I AM A GIRL! In one way, this is to my great advantage. I can pull out my girly charm, put my make up on my face, throw on some nice clothes, and walla bing walla boom: I can get a man's attention (especially in Colombia ;)). I can draw in his ears through his eyes. And to second that, one of my dearest guy friends regularly touts that, "Women have no idea how much influence they have on men's lives." I realize just being a woman is influence on them. But because I'm a girl...I can only go so far. There are many places in a mans heart that I will never reach for a multitude of reasons. All because I'm a girl. I'm not disappointed by this, because those places in a man's heart I can not touch, I actually don't want to. But this puts a taboo on my passion, rather my calling. I believe others would question my motives and intentions if I acted out on this calling in certain ways.

I have actually had quite the opportunity in my life to influence men. To start off: I have had some great male friends that the Lord has allowed me to influence, and then there was Teen Mania...where I co-led a coed group for 3 years. I have had the opportunity to do just what I described I loved to do...speak into men's lives and watch them change. I'm beyond grateful this.

But I think there is more to my calling...not just more men to influence...but how I'm going to influence. I may have to wait until that blessed day when I'm wed and have boys of my own...but is it a requirement to wait until then? I hope not.

The question that remains is: HOW?

Dear God,

Tonight I want to crawl into your arms and have you answer all the questions of my heart. A true sign that my heart is alive...I have longing. So much longing and desire. Intimacy is created just being near to you, rather, you being near to me. I feel the transition...I feel the answers drawing nigh. They are not veiled as I expected them to be. I'm just beginning to realize that is because you are not veiled. You are my longing. You are my desire. You are the stirrer of my heart. You are the butterflies that I have swarming inside of me.

You are more exciting than I ever thought. You are real. You are not just words on a page. You are not just a sermon at church, or a pretty song that ignites my emotions. You have become my dear friend. I take to heart what you think about the way I ought to live my life. I desire to be loved by you. Solely you. All other love disappoints as I compare it to you.

My loneliness is being transformed into an exciting adventure of friendship with you. I'm marveled at your care, your understanding, your thoughtfulness, your joy over me. Your sing over me the song of my heart. You are the reason I want to wake up. I can do things I never thought I could because you have given me the confidence. I feel your support, your my biggest cheerleader.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I don't want to live my life apart from you. My life is rich. You're sweeping me off my feet.

Embrace the Rain

I hear the rain falling. Some of our roofs our made in such a way that when the rain pours, it is almost deafening. Trying to speak over it is a futile effort ending up in a yelling tone with the one you are communicating with catching one word, maybe. I like it this way. It causes you to stop for a moment and reflect.

A few nights ago, I fell asleep to the pouring rain. I had been experiencing distance from the Lord. I prayed that he would just speak to me, remind me that he is here with me in these incredibly lonely nights. Then I heard the still small whisper. "I am your house. I am the refuge from the storm. I am your safe place. I am your comfort." In your own home there is no need to entertain. It is where you are really yourself and you are accepted, and most of the time loved because you are just that. You can let your hair down, you can relax. The veil was not torn for us to come in and preform, but to come in. And that presence is what changes us.

Also note, he said this house protects you from the storms. There are storms. Colombia is just beginning it's rainy season. It lasts for several months. Last year thousands of people lost their homes due to faulty foundations and structure. I'm very reminded of the blurb from the Bible that says "Anyone who hears and obeys is like the man who built his house on a rock." And as for me and my house, I serve the Lord. My foundation is sure. My structure is sure. And here comes the storms that seem to last forever. It is now a choice to walk out from under this house and into the storm. The storm that leaves you cold and miserable. The better option, however, is that we can stay safely inside, and if you are anything like me, we can embrace the rain. How? Not by pretending it is not there, because it may be deafening, causing you to be unable to communicate. It's definitely there. But instead, hiding yourself in the safety of his presence, in the safety of his communion, in the comfort of his sacrifice, listening and obeying. There is nothing more relaxing than falling asleep to rain. If I was outside my home trying to fall asleep in the rain, I would probably want to curse God and die as quoted by Job's wife. It is slightly dramatic, but I don't want that. I want my home. I want a roof and walls and a sturdy foundation.

The Lord is alive. And he speaks. Let's listen and obey and then enjoy his refuge instead of taking our umbrella of self satisfaction, or religion, or impatience out into the cruel storm that leaves us with our umbrella broken and soggy clothes.

Embrace the rain...inside your house. :)

I miss you.

I don't even remember what state or city I was in. I had gone out of town to take a friend to a youth conference. The weekend had been going well, for the most part...until one of the days in the afternoon, like I said, all of the details are very blurry. My sister started texting me and telling me to call her immediately, that something terrible had happened. I called her. She was weeping. I couldn't make out the words she was saying. I asked her to calm down, and then I heard...he killed himself. Matthew Brett Coven, a son, a brother, a husband and a father of three small children, took his own life. The details surrounding and of his death still horrify me.

Matthew was a dear friend of mine. He and his beautiful wife, came into my life when I was in high school. They started attending our church when they only had their eldest boy. Emily and I babysat for them often...but as time went on, they became more than just parents of the child we babysat, they became dear friends. We would have AI (American Idol)/ Amazing Race parties, we would eat ice cream until our bellies exploded, we would drink more Diet Coke than 100 people could in one sitting, we would talk until late in the night about life. We would laugh. We stood by their side when their second child was born and had major medical issues.

And then they moved to Little Rock and I to Texas. Emily still remained very close to them. Visiting them often. Matthew's wife, Morgan, became Emily's closest friend. And I lost touch. I would hear about them through Emily, and keep tabs with them that way. I would visit them every once in awhile when I would go home. But for all in intention purposes, I lost touch. I naively gave up that friendship.

I went home after I left Teen Mania, and I didn't want to go. But a dear friend told me that I ought to go...that it was important. I did and on the way home we stopped by Matthew's house, had dinner and caught up. That was the last time I ever saw him. I'm so grateful my friend told me to go.

See in those five years that I lost touch, he made a series of poor choices, ones that affected his whole family. I wasn't there for that...I only remember the good times. The way Matty once was. Which in many ways save my heart from a lot of heartache. But there is also a huge part in me that regrets losing touch with him. Wandering if he only knew how much I cared about him, how I wasn't judging his actions and calling it his identity, how much he meant to me and my family if there might have been a different outcome.

I'm not one who lives in regrets, and I'm not going to begin now...my wandering thoughts, however, beckon me to consider the importance of human life, and human connection. Acting on the love you have for one another...not just waiting until it's convenient. Because, in my case, there is now no convenient time, because there is no time.

It's been a year. And I miss him. A lot.