Wednesday, September 10, 2014

"How are you and Jesus? "

I haven't published anything as of late, mostly because I don't know what I want to say. But here's a good thing that happened and I wanted to share.

I was talking with a friend via Facebook the other day. We went through the pleasantries and then she asked, "How are you and Jesus? "

I generally hate this question because...well, it seems pretentious and annoying. But I pondered it for a few days. I wanted to know how I was with Jesus, so I figured I'd answer.

After 3 days or so, here is what I replied:

If i had to put our relationship on fb it would be best defined at "it's complicated". It's not in a bad way or anything...just in a I like to cheat on him a lot. In that, he's been so patient and kind in how he loves me...and oh how he loves me! ...that he's been teaching me that only he can guard my heart and every time a guy (generally) hurts me or I hurt myself in my vulnerability I shut him out along with the rest of the world. He has patiently sat outside my walls so many times and joyfully reentered when I was ready. I'm learning to keep jesus inside the walls...bc they aren't ready to turn into gates just yet. He has shown me freedom in vulnerability both the good freedom in HIS vulnerability and the bad in the "freedom" the vulnerability of sin seems to create. Basically, I make this relationship complicated bc I'm a silly little air headed girl that is only beginning to allow jesus to show her how wonderful she really is and revel in her vulnerability while he becomes her protector, lover, friend, and all the things he's ever claimed to be.

That's how jesus and I are. Ha. Any questions?

It's honest, and some might read it and be taken aback or offended because how could a christian that attends church, discipleship, lifegroups, etc allowed to feel like all is great all the time? (Sarcasm note)

Love yall,
Maggie Mae

Wednesday, August 13, 2014

When I see you

It's like having your fingers get slammed in a door. You want to stop it from happening, you feel the anxiety rise as you realize what's happening, what's about to occur. And then you don't know how to react. Pretend to be strong and act like it doesn't hurt? Allow the tears to spill and admit the bone deep hurt you feel?

Your heart kind of stops. Your pulse quickens and you just don't know what to do. You feel like the fingers caught in the door. You want to pull away but you're stuck. You want to give in thinking it might help the pain, but not fighting and giving in just allows the pain to blind you further to the simple solution.

Open the door.

You have no choice. Let the fingers swell. Let them bruise and ache. Kiss them to make them better.

Close the door.

Let the memory fade. Let the pain fade along with the breeze that slammed the door on the fingers. Don't be upset at the breeze, for what could it do? It was swayed by forces unknown and impossible to refuse. It had no choice, because, after all, it was just a breeze, passing through on its way to nowhere.

Monday, July 7, 2014

I Am A Broken Tea Cup

((preface: this is a vision God gave to me of myself a long while back, but only today has it developed more into words.))

I'm a broken tea cup. I have red and yellow flowers on a white background. A red trimming along the handle and lip. I am pretty from afar, eye-catching. But hold me carefully because I'm chipped and cracked. No longer can I hold full a cup of tea. It dribbles down the sides in tear-shaped droplets, small and constant until I'm empty or hold the remnants of tea leaves. You try to drink from me, but my chips cut your lips and now your blood mixes with the tea. I hold that part of you in my center as it sinks to the bottom. You put me back into the lonely cupboard. The next person comes and picks me up unaware of the odd cracks camouflaged by my flowers. He holds me close, enjoying the warmth I carry from the tea, but as he holds me the warmth of the tea begins to slowly drip through his fingers now lined with nearly invisible, yet painful, cuts. He retreats to the handle to avoid my edges, holding me from afar still able to admire my beauty. His hand grows tired and he places me back in the cupboard. The next man comes by. He sees the beautiful tea cup in my imperfection. He holds me gently by the handle while he takes his time to examine me. He doesn't return me to the dusty cupboard. He sees my dangerous nicks that would dribble the tea onto his newly pressed shirt; he sees my chipped lip that could cause him to bleed; he sees my imperfect dangers and calls them "potential." He holds me from the bottom, supporting me firmly. He finds some filler to fill in the cracks. The filler is accented in gold. He fills the cracks, I can hold tea now. No more will the tea flow from me in tears. He prepares a gold molding to fit the chip in my lip. It fits perfectly as he attaches it. I am whole again. The tea will now pour only for those that choose to drink from me. All can appreciate my beauty from my new cupboard, but still can see the scars from the drops I've endured. Small pieces of me still float about in my old cupboard and kitchen. My new gold cracks and lip piece will be reminders I was once sharp, biting, unfulfilled. When they pick me up, they will pick me up from my new owners cupboard-- a clean and pristine cupboard, one filled with other mended china, but no dust or broken pieces. When people ask of me, he will hold me from the bottom, allowing my handle to be lifted by whomever and from whomever to drink from me, but yet only by his discretion, for he holds the key to the cupboard. He holds me firmly, having invested in my weakness. I will forever reflect his gold that now glimmers in my cracks. I no longer have to feel rejected by those that did not like my edges, for when they return me to the cupboard, they return me to the hand that filled me.

#jesus

Wednesday, July 2, 2014

You Need to Be Okay With Being Beautiful

This is a sad (personal) story, but one that has a happy ending coming.

I've always felt like a hideous brute. Yes. This is the truth and no, I am not fishing for compliments. I grew up a self-identified tomboy and this is how I have felt from middle school on, even a little before then, if I'm honest. I can remember being in 3rd grade and having some girls make fun of my hair because I had done it myself that day. Granted it was a frizzy mess, but that type of stuff stuck with me.

Men haven't generally flocked to me. I was second choice 9 times out of 10 in high school, and no matter how much that shouldn't mean anything, it meant a lot. My self-esteem plummeted so far into the recesses of my soul that only promiscuity made me feel pretty. I became one of those "give love to get love" girls. (Clarification: I did not sleep around, but flirting and teasing can be just as promiscuous.) 

Only recently have I begun to settle into my skin and feel like a beautiful person, inside and out. Whether from friends or attention from the opposite gender or just healing in my heart, I have begun to feel beautiful and truly believe that I am.

The first time I remember seeing myself as beautiful was about three years ago on my way to a bible study when I stopped to use the restroom. I had been feeling vulnerable because the bible study was a group of "pretty" girls I wasn't close friends with, and I thought I might be a little "too much" for them, but I was determined to be myself. When I looked in the mirror, I saw myself and I sucked in my breath. I was beautiful. It was so strange. I couldn't look away from the face in the mirror because she was so foreign to me. A lovely complexion on a round face with honest and vulnerable eyes...but it didn't last. The next day I looked in the mirror again and saw the same brute I had seen for years.

Another year went by and I still did not see myself as beautiful like I had that one day. Another year and I still felt unattractive. Then, this year something seems to have changed. 

God started this process forever ago, but my stubborn self only allowed my vulnerability to shine the beginning of last summer. See, when you're vulnerable, you have no walls up. You are you and that's it. My "new year's resolution" (made on my birthday) was that I would be myself, no matter how painfully hard. I would enjoy my quirks without fear of judgement. That's when I embraced vulnerability wholeheartedly...but ended up allowing myself to become too vulnerable. I didn't allow God to guard my heart. I got hurt, and thus my cycle began again.

This year, I've been working on vulnerability still, but this time, I'm in a better place with God and learning about being set free in Christ which incorporates learning how to let Him guard my heart so I can live in freedom as well. I'm learning from my past hurts in order to avoid the future ones that so inevitably will try to trick me into falling back into my old patterns.

So....

Last week I was in a vulnerable situation with a someone (not a sketchy type thing, just honesty and vulnerability surfaced...get your minds out the gutter). We sat and talked about feelings and past hurts and all that jazz. I told him I have always been "second pick" and he couldn't understand why people would pick me second, which baffled my mind because he thought that. He seemed to see me for me. I mean, I had just played an intense game of volleyball, I'm sure he could smell my sweaty grossness in the small space that is my car and he could obviously see my oh-so-attractive drenched-in-sweat t-shirt, and yet he still said I was beautiful. He said to me,

"You are beautiful, and you need to be okay with being beautiful."

That statement hit me like a ton of bricks. Not only because I have been told I was beautiful by a man I was interested in only a handful of times and not because he had an accent, but because I wasn't expecting it. My breathing caught and I couldn't look him in the eyes, something characteristic of myself when I'm feeling intensely vulnerable. Also, he said I needed to be okay with being beautiful. I had never thought of myself as not being okay with being beautiful, just never thought I would be considered beautiful.

((Tangent/Food for Thought: Can you really know if someone is beautiful after knowing them for such a short period of time? Does that kind of initial reaction only grow as you get to know the person? Is that what 60 year plus marriages are made out of? Can you really think someone is beautiful without knowing them deeply? Does vulnerability really expose that much of you to a person that they could see your true beauty?))

When he said this to me, it was like the LORD reached down and straight plucked my heart strings to play some soft melody that stirred the most intense emotions of confusion and excitement and joy. The confusion because I heard the honesty in his voice, excitement because someone found me beautiful, and joy because what else could I feel?!  God was revealing His truth to me through this guy. It turned out to be one of the best things to ever happen to me.

He sat three feet away from me, yet it could have been 3,000 miles or 3 inches. The statement resounded in my heart like a sonic boom.

So if you are like me, and you have thought you are a hideous creature and that God somehow screwed up when He made you; that perhaps you are the "leftovers" from your older siblings and you just missed out on the looks portion of the gene pool; or you were always chosen second in high school and never asked to dances...let down your walls. Let God into your heart and into the places that are so dark that you don't even know they are there. Let God into those places. Ask Him to heal what you don't even realize is wounded because you've become numb to everything painful. Allow Him to use people in your life to show you that you ARE beautiful. Maybe you're not there yet, that's okay. Just believe that the people that tell you that you're beautiful are being honest with you, especially if they're close to you.

Ask Him to help you to be OKAY with being beautiful.

It's still a struggle for me. I'm constantly battling the thought that the guy just said that because he wanted "some." That he didn't care about me or how I felt or how I felt about myself. I didn't know him well, I still don't. Maybe a year from now if we remain friends and continue to get to know each other, I'll believe that he meant it. Maybe not. Maybe 15 more people will tell me the same thing, but I won't believe it until the 16th comes along.

Insecurity in a world of perfection is a rough thing. It's a real thing, but it can be overcome.

You and I are beautiful, and we need to be okay with it.

--Maggie Mae

((PS- When I say "beautiful" throughout this post, I mean the truest depth of attraction. What God has instilled within all of us because He makes beautiful things, and what are we other then things with skin?))

 ((also, if the a fore mentioned guy reads this, because you know who you are, yes this affected me that much, and no I'm no in love with you or anything because of it......just wanted to clarify))

Wednesday, June 18, 2014

My Health Update- Meet Herbalife

If you've known me for any amount of time, you know that I have been overweight my entire life. There's a lot of angst that goes with that, and frustration.

I've posted so many times about being vulnerable. About how I'm going to workout everyday and not cheat and blah blah blah. I'm going to be the image of health. The poster-child with the best before and after picture you have ever seen.

All of that has been BS. Not that I didn't mean it or want it, but I definitely didn't follow through.

I've always thought that being healthy meant being a certain weight. That my beauty would come from weightloss and once I lost the weight, I would be a happier more godly woman and all that jazz.

No. That's a bunch of BS too.

Back in September I noticed my friend post something on facebook about this stuff called "Herbalife."

She was already skinny, but when she did a personal challenge for herself, she gained lots of muscle and energy.

I messaged her about it and ordered almost immediately. I didn't lose weight. I didn't gain muscle. I didn't lose inches. I was distraught, but something kept me drinking these shakes and considering these supplements.

I realized I had energy. I realized I had focus throughout the day. My hair was healthier, my skin clearer, and my nails (yes, my nails) were stronger. I told Kelsey (the girl who started me on Herbalife) about how I felt like I could never be a coach because who would trust someone selling a nutrition program that was severely overweight? I expressed that I felt like I had no results. She asked me a few questions and deduced that I did have results. The energy and the feeling better and stronger WERE results.

It's been about 8 months, and I still haven't really lost weight. BUT I am encouraged. I still have healthier nails and hair. I still have more focus throughout the day. I have virtually NO headaches, which is a HUGE deal for me considering I would deal with at least 3 headaches a week.

I've also found out that I am insulin resistant. This doesn't mean I have diabetes, but if I don't lose weight it could become that. Basically, my body doesn't use insulin the way it's supposed to. This makes a HUGE difference when it comes to dieting. I can't eat tons of carbs because my body won't process them as energy, but rather will take 90% of them and store them as straight fat.

Last week was the first week I tried to have the weight loss program be mine for real. I drank the two shakes a day and ate healthy throughout the day. My goal is to remain consistent with this plan for the next 3 weeks. AKA 21 days to start/break a habit.

I'm ordering tonight a supplement called "Cell Activator" that helps to promote absorption of nutrients in your body..which is basically what insulin resistance prevents.

I can't wait to have results like weight loss, but for now, I'm learning my beauty doesn't come from  being a healthy weight. I'm also learning that results don't always come in the way that you want them. So, if you're having an energy crisis where you are crashing mid-day, Herbalife has an answer for that. Maybe you want your metabolism boosted without having your heart jump out of your chest, Herbalife has a supplement for that. Maybe you're a body builder and need to get ready for a competition, Herbalife has LOTS to help with that.

Basically, whatever your needs are, Herbalife can help. It's a nutrition company, not a diet plan. I'd love to answer questions from you.

I'm deciding right now to do something different about my health. I don't want another diet plan. I want to understand nutrition and learn to manage my health with other healthy things that just so happen to fit into my budget REALLY well.

Here's to results of all kinds!

--Maggie Mae

Tuesday, June 17, 2014

You Make Me Brave

I've heard more often than not that being brave is something people were born with. People that are usually bold or extremely confident are considered brave. Even those of us that do things to prove how brave they are, like sky diving or bungee jumping.

Well, no. I just don't know that that's it. Brave people may have those characteristics. They may be bold and crass and extremely confident, but I think bravery is based on trust.

Last week at my life group, we sang this song that I had never heard of before during worship called "You Make Me Brave" by Amanda Cooke from Bethel. The song talks about how standing in the presence of God and His light you are washed over by crashing waves and how He calls your name and all this stuff. Eventually it gets to the bridge where it says, "You make me brave" repeatedly.

As I was singing this song, I really felt like I was diving into the lyrics and the meaning that the Lord was giving me behind it all. Maybe this message was just for me and my strange perspective, but I figured I'd share anyway!

So I'm listening about the waves crashing over you, envisioning it. How you would stand in this crazy, awe-inspiring presence that could utterly destroy you without blinking, and I realize that bravery isn't something you're born with and something that comes from being confident or incredibly extroverted. 

Bravery is something that develops from trusting something. When the bible (and the song) talks about weapons against us not remaining or fear not being anything to hinder us (Isaiah and in many other parts of the bible), that's because we have developed a trust for our God. And how do you develop trust? By earning it and proving time and time again that you're trustworthy and won't disappoint or let whomever down. 

Think of it like this: I read a story the other day about an old oak tree that had a support rigged against it like a crutch to help with the weight of one of its limbs. At first the tree didn't need it. The do-gooders just thought it might help, but years later the tree did need the support. If the tree were conscious, it probably would have doubted the support of the crutches at first, but by the time it needed the support, many years later, it wouldn't have had to think twice about the crutches being able to hold. The crutches would have proven their strength and "earned" the tree's trust simply by being there.

Turn that analogy into how we trust Jesus. He is always there for us, He is always providing His strength for us, and He is always extending His love and grace towards us. Basically, when we have to be brave we have to trust. 

We are put in a vulnerable spot where we could fall, bend, snap, or fail, and then we have to be bold --brave-- and step out. You have to trust whatever you're stepping out for. You have to get your bravery from the trust you have from whatever you have to be brave for.

You're not going to walk out onto the overlook at the Grand Canyon if you don't trust that the glass will hold. 

The Lord helped me realize that those times that I have been "brave" are the times I've been bold and have been trusting in Him entirely. Even the people that jump out of planes to prove their bravery are trusting their chute will open. Their bungee cord will hold. The cage that separates them from the deadly teeth of a great white will not bend.

Bravery isn't a character trait, in my opinion. It's a consequence of trust.

--Maggie Mae

Wednesday, June 11, 2014

Fear of Committing

My true fear of commitment has never been more apparent than when I am looking for a job.

Like many other post-college young adults, the thoughts are running through my head...Is this the right job? Will I like it? What if I hate it? 

The worst thing is I'm afraid of being recommended by any of my friends because I have this bad habit of not sticking with a job. You must understand, I'm a "Destination" person, not a "Journey" person. I look to the end of whatever it may be. I look far down the road and decide immediately whether or not I absolutely would hate the job or not. Then I don't even apply for it. I like to circular think, if you didn't catch that.

My most recent anxiety that spurred this short and chaotic post is the opportunity to work for a guy who does wedding photography/videography. I'd be an administrative assistant. I don't think this is the worst I could do by far. It would give me experience and eventually I could probably get raises or move to another company (after a while). The pay is fine. The incentives are good. It literally could provide me the experience I need to make whatever dreams I have come true. I know I'd be great at it, but I don't know if I'd love to do what I'd be great at.

So why am I afraid of even scheduling an interview? Simple. It's a 9-5 job. I have ALWAYS sworn to myself I would not allow myself to become stuck in a 9-5. My heart pounds thinking about a cubicle or fluorescent lighting for 8 hours every day. Perhaps it's not that bad.

I mean, most everyone has a 9-5 in some form or fashion. Really anyone that works 40 hours a week has some sort of schedule that requires them to work for 8 hours at a time in funky environments.

I might be giving myself a little pep-talk here, but if it worked out, the next terrifying dilemma I have created is what if my dream job opens up and I'm stuck at the 9-5?

The other side is what if my dream job doesn't open up? I want to write. What if I never get my own column in the local paper or what if I never make it to working for the Times?

Am I content enough to write just because I love it? I think that's the biggest and best question I may have ever pondered.

Am I content enough to do what I love, just because I love it?

Time to ponder and stress! Prayers appreciated for guidance and clarity.

--Maggie Mae