“Some of us, even believers, are confounded by the fact that some of our prayers feel unanswered.  I now, as I’ve grown older, realize that no prayers are unanswered.  It’s just that sometimes the answer is, ‘No.’”

– Bono in an interview with Bill Hybels in The Leadership Summit 2006

– Carissa

Its Easter this week and we canceled church. Well, not really. We canceled our Sunday morning gatherings and moved them downtown and outside to where we first met as a church. A few years ago a handful of people decided to “do” church differently that Sunday by grilling up hot cheeseburgers for some of the homeless who lived nearby. It wasnt meant to fly in the face of traditional worship. It wasnt meant to replace the idea of evangelism, disc … Read More

via faith parley

On this day 33 years ago, you gave me a brother.

Since then, amidst the workings of our day-to-day lives, I’ve hurt him and even tried to shut him out of my life, yet he’s still here.  As You know, he’s quick to forgive me and wipe the slate clean.   Some would even call him a “peace-maker,” as he often acts as a catalyst for reconciliation.

From the time we were little to now, he has always defended my honor whether we were in the same room or separated by many miles.  A wise and loving counselor, I can even listen to him tell me a tough truth without ever doubting his love for me.  Rock solid, he’s so reliable.  He keeps his promises.  When he says he’s going to do something, he does it.  It’s all of this and more that make him one of the most trustworthy people I know.

Unlike me, he’s very generous and unattached to the things of this world.  That’s one piece You wove into his character.  From the time he was young, he was one to share, lend or even give away whatever he had – even with his sister.  It never seemed to bother him if what he gave didn’t come back.

He is protective of me.  One of my fondest memories with him was when we were snowboarding together in 2006.  On our first descent, I could hear him coming down the mountain from behind me.  With one glimpse of his shadow, I lost my concentration and fell.  That instant, he was at my side to pick me up and get me back on my feet.  It was then that I saw he had never attached his board once we exited the lift.  He had run down the mountain behind me to be there to help me if I should fall.

Of all the people in my life, he’s taught me more about who You are and inspired me to seek You more than any other person has.  The times that he’s challenged and encouraged me to do what’s right by You over what is acceptable in our culture has protected me, my integrity and peace of mind on many occasions.

Some of my hardest cries were made in the comfort of his arms and some of my most joyful laughs were with him.  We have the same parents and have shared many of the same experiences.  He knows my past.  When he looks into my eyes he can see it, and loves me anyway.

He sounds a lot like Jesus.

Heavenly Father, thank you for giving me my brother.  Thank you for protecting his life from the moment he was conceived.  I can’t imagine going through this life without him.

Amen

“Love is patient, love is kind.  It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.  It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.  Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.  It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”

1 Corinthians 13:4-7 (NIV)

There’s a saying that goes, “The true nature of the oil isn’t known until the olive is pressed.”  Indeed, I was pressed.  What I do when I’m pressed is shake things up big-time.  That’s exactly what I did.  The results were astonishing.

In 2010, I:

1. Made some grown-up choices without anybody crying,
2. Sold The Big Blue Couch,
3. Learned that my friends want to contribute to me by helping me when I need them,
4. Learned that accepting their help strengthened our friendship,
5. Met Andrew and Holly of Holland Racing,
6. Went to my first crit and have been hooked ever since,
7. Relocated to Dripping Springs,
8. Launched my blog Hot Men Hot Spots,
9. Led a mission trip to the Dominican Republic,
10. Learned that I do not like to lead and am not really meant to,
11. Celebrated my birthday at least 4 times,
12. Watched all 21 stages of le Tour de France,
13. Made tons of new friends,
14. Flew to Florida for a day-long job interview,
15. Turned down a high-profile, radio executive job,
16. Realized that I needed to pursue my own dream that I had yet to create,
17. Wrote and edited a book,
18. Discovered a genuine hope for being in the relationship of my dreams,
19. Experienced the impact of my un-forgiveness,
20. Stood firmly to reconcile a relationship and did so, even though societal norms suggested I walk away,
21. Was put in charge of a Holland Racing event for the first time ever and loved it,
22. Began to understand what God has been trying to teach me about family.

So, thank you, whoever you are.  As you can see, your misdial left me with much to appreciate.  Finally, thank you for expressing in a text message something I would never have the guts to say.  In fact, I didn’t realize that I felt that way until much later.  Nonetheless, my life will never be the same and I’m wildly inspired by my future in a whole new way.  For that I am eternally grateful.  Thank you.

Recently I was invited to an all-women party by a friend of mine in a social circle that is new to me.  Always up for meeting new people, I was quick to say, “yes” to the invite and off we went.  Let me tell you, to be in an entirely new crowd of women listening to their view on life, themselves and others is eye-opening.

These women were nice enough, funny, cordial and social.  I was enjoying myself, the food and the conversation.  After a couple hours of small-talk and pleasantries, the conversation in one of the last, lingering groups of women drifted to how other women look – by “women” I mean friends of theirs who were not at the party.

“That girl looks great in whatever pants she puts on.  I hate her! Ha, ha, ha!”

“Ugh.  She has the perfect ass.”

“Find out how old she is.  I hope she’s under 34.  There’s no way she could be older.  I hate her.  She always looks good.  Ha, ha, ha!”

“After I saw her bikini, I told my husband he could not come down to the pool with us.”

Looking at this group of women, they were all attractive to me.  I would never guess that they would have anything to complain about.  Yet, listening to them talk about these other women, I could hear the envy in their words along with the dissatisfaction with themselves.  All of that was seasoned with laughter, lots of laughter, as though to sweeten their venom.  As I stood there, I didn’t find anything funny.  In fact, their jovial-hateful comments made me very uneasy.

I thought about it:  they could be talking about me.  I’m over 34.  I look good in the pants I wear.  I happen to think the bum that God gave me is just right for my body.  Do they hate me too?  I have a slim figure and sometimes wear a bikini.  Should they shield their husbands from me?  I’ve read in articles online and in magazines that some women talk this way about each other although I’ve never heard it with my own ears.  Even now, I have trouble understanding their point-of-view.  With their statements they declared that some women were better than others.

Much is written about the epidemic of women with low self-esteem.   In these articles the blame goes to the societal standards imposed on women that have them believe their being beautiful means they should look a certain way.  As far as I know, there’s no universal, societal, stone tablet posted in the town square with a check list stating that every woman needs to have a certain hair color, eye color, bra size, height, weight, hip/waist measurment and build in order to be attractive to all men.  The notion of that is positively ridiculous.  If all women looked alike, my educated guess is that only a fraction of a percent of men would be happy.  Those remaining would be longing for a woman who is their own, personal idea of beautiful, whatever that may be.

Since no such tablet exists, who can women blame for their low self-esteem?  They have no one to blame but themselves.  I would even go so far to say that the vision of beauty that each woman chooses as her standard is one each makes up herself, the fine details of which exsist only in her own mind.  The whole point-of-view is based upon a collection of opinions gathered throughout her life.  Simply put, her view of female beauty is as unique as she is.  When she doesn’t measure up to her own standard of beauty she then chooses to believe that she’s not beautiful.  The women at that party were perfect examples of this.  I thought they were attractive.  They thought they were unattractive.  They “hated” other women they thought were attractive.

Being at that party made me realize that it doesn’t matter who you are or what you look like.  Fat or skinny, “perfect” ass or not, there will always be people who find you unattractive and others who think you’re beautiful just the way you are.  There will be people in your life who don’t like you for whatever reason and those who do.  Each person’s unique preferences that are expressed through his or her words and actions, just like the women at this party were expressing theirs.  I have the body that God gave me; I choose to like it.  I also choose to hold my point-of-view that I’m beautiful.  Some people will agree, some people won’t and it will always be their opinion.  That is a fact.