Risky Behavior

Getting a tattoo from a "beginner." Texting while driving, irregardless of age (in Missouri, it's only illegal if you are under 21). Bungee jumping with your dentures in. We could make a list stretch on for miles over risky things we do, but probably one of the riskiest ones would be far down on the list despite it being one that we humans do every day. Talking to other people.

Sure, there are obvious ways our words can get us in trouble. Telling a cop he should spend less time chasing our car and instead chase donuts. Sassing back to a teacher when she asks that we stop pulling our classmate's hair. Using certain derogatory words around people of other ethnic/racial groups. From the time we were children (and for some of us late-bloomers, teenagers), we have learned that you just don't say certain things. For the most part, this is good--respect is such a rare commodity these days (and yes, I'm starting to sound like my grandparents already and I'm still in my twenties). In some cases, though, not saying something is more harmful than we could ever imagine.

Although I have gotten better at constructively criticizing those around me when I need to, I recently discovered that this is a skill that still needs work. Case and point? My very serious romantic relationship with a guy I'll name "Bob." I haven't been that honest with him lately, mostly because I'm still figuring out when I need to say something and when I need to keep quiet. To be safe, I've been keeping quiet a lot...and that led to a repressive emotional blowout full of sobbing and a chucked Kleenex box (to my credit, I was alone in the room at the time and I just threw it at the tabletop). It was a lot of little things, really, things that didn't really bother me that much. Added all together, they created feelings of resentment, disappointment, pain, and fear. I knew I was feeling insecure, and was able to share that with Bob, but I didn't understand why, especially when I had conquered most of my past ghosts.

The big answer I finally figured out with the help of two wise married women? I wasn't getting some of my needs met, mostly because I hadn't told him about them. I could figure out his needs really easily without being asked (hot meals, clean[ish] house, cuddle time on the couch, a listening ear, etc.) and even then I would keep asking and discover more things I could do to make him feel secure and loved. My needs weren't so simple to tease out, and even when he did ask, I wasn't good at revealing them. Part of it was due to fear that I would be selfish to ask for things/actions/services in return, that he wouldn't be able to or want to provide those things, or that I would be too much of a "bother" or considered a "high-maintenance woman." Another part of my silence was due to literally not knowing how to word the requests. I know, I'm a writer, an English professor, and I can't figure out how to use words effectively. Insert *facepalm* here.



By trying to avoid hurting his feelings and protecting myself from possible rejection, I turned myself into ticking time bomb of emotions. I kept up this facade of "I'm okay, I can take care of myself, no need to worry about me, just let me serve you and I'll be fine..." for the most part, but found myself eventually crying nearly every time I was with him. Insecurity bombarded me with thoughts of how he didn't really care, he was going to get tired of me and my drama, he wouldn't be able to deal with my requests, or (really ugly moment here) he was just going to use me and throw me away like others have done in the past. Yes, projecting past experiences onto Bob didn't help, but one of the core reasons was that I felt neglected and negated in some respects. Whose fault was that? Mine.

I needed to stop feeling guilty asking for things, especially the small things. No matter how tired, grumpy, irritated, or sick he is, Bob loves me and wants to take care of me. He needs to take care of my needs, to provide for me just as I need to be needed by him. I'm not his slave and I need to stop acting like it--especially as he NEVER asked me to be that!

Bob's reaction to this situation? Well, it was best summed up during a conversation where I tentatively (read: tiny little-girl voice) said, "So it's ok if I ask for that?"

"Well, of course! What, is this that new-age women's lib crap where you have no needs and are all self-sufficient?"

A little crass, but the point is valid. We, as women AND men, are NOT self-sufficient. Whether we realize it or not, we desperately need God and, second to Him, each other. If not, why were those the two commandments Jesus gave us? We are to love God and love one another. That means both give and take.

A request you can't deny

A prayer I pray a lot, especially lately, is "God, show me what you want me to do." Note the word choice there--show me. Yes, I'm from Missouri, which indicates one of two things depending on which story you believe about the origin of our state motto: I am either slow on the uptake and need to be shown everything to understand it, or I want proof before I will act on something. In my prayer life, it's a little of both. I admit to being a bit dense sometimes when it comes to making decisions. For instance, I was battling with a particularly sticky situation when a friend came in and, with common sense, parted the murky waters I was wandering lost in. The light bulb indicating my EUREKA! moments is apparently more of a flickering candle than, say, an incandesent wonder.

Not all of us can be like the Centennial light and keep burning nonstop for 109 years...but who wants to be right and wise every single time for that long?

So I keep asking God to show me paths I'm supposed to take. Just show me the way, God, and I'll go. No questions, no hesitations--just go. Big words for a fallible human. You see, I already know a destination God has for me (or at least, I believe it's one). He has laid a particular writing project on my heart. It's not a fiction piece or a really cool poetry project. It's nonfiction. You would think that writing creative non-fiction wouldn't be such a difficult task for me. I specialized in it in college. I love writing in this genre. It's rather what the project is about that has me balking. A year ago, I accepted the charge and knew I was being called to write this massive project. I had already a few small pieces to form a base with. I was strong in my faith and several years past the harrowing sections of my past that would feature in this book. I had perspective. I had praise for a God Who had brought me out of such darkness.

I also had intense fear. My conversations with God were more like desperate arguments than prayers.

Um, I'll write Your book, God. Sure. Just not today.
It's really emotionally intense, God. I'm stressed right now and can't risk it.
I can't publish that. It could keep me from getting published in other arenas.
I can't put my name on that. It'd be linked on my resume.
What college will offer me a full-time position knowing that part of my past?
You've given me a way to minister to people through my current church. If they find out about my dark past, they may not allow me into their lives. I could be ostracized like I was before in different places. Are You wanting me to risk Your will with this book?

I love how I try to point out logical fallacies in God when doing so is so incredibly illogical in and of itself. Fighting God is a completely pointless thing. All I am doing is hurting myself.

A bum hip is only one tragic excuse away...

God knows I need to put this part of my past finally to rest. Writing about it will let me do that, allow me to move from victim to victor. Writing about it will allow me to touch other people who are suffering with the same problems I was, give them hope, let them know that there is light at the end of the tunnel (and it's not a train). Writing about it will allow me to educate others who don't understand the types of darkness that we humans can become so rolled up in that we do things that we would never do otherwise. Writing about it will allow me to see the truth in myself and come to terms that I did make mistakes, I did learn things, and it's ok to be a person who "used to be" severely messed up. I can let go of the anger and the shame by putting words on a page.

I know all of this. I'm still afraid, still ashamed, still trying to protect myself from being so vulnerable.

This is where--did you see it coming?--faith comes in. If God is the One Who gave me this mission, it's not for my destruction. It's for me to have a future, to have hope, to find him (Jeremiah 29:11-14). God's not going to put me on a path, give me a sense of purpose to do something for Him, and then let me be completely ravaged. Yes, I'll face spiritual warfare again. Yes, there will be consequences. I may lose some friends. I may lose some opportunities. I may even lose jobs. In the long run, though, I know God isn't going to abandon me. I know what I do for His glory, to further His kingdom, will be successful. I don't have to worry.

I need to be brave and expose my heart. I need to remember Who is in control and submit to His authority. To do otherwise is to insist I know better than God. I may be crazy, but I'm not that insane.

Americans have given their lives in response to an ad from a fictional character. How can we expect any less from a request from a very real God?

Lessons for the Teacher, Part I

Part of what makes an excellent leader, and teacher, is the desire and ability to continue learning. For teachers, it's often called professional development. We have days set aside every semester for us to get together and talk, discuss policies, share teaching strategies. There are conferences where we can meet people from across the state or even across the country. We leave perhaps tired from the travel, but inspired and exhilirated, ready to take on the challenges of educating others all over again.

The problem with conferences is not just the cost, or the travel, but rather the infrequency of them. While I was a graduate student at Truman, I was able to go to three major educational conferences, mostly because there was funding available for us. Since graduating, these incredible large-scale meetings of like-minded people have been mostly out of my reach. There's little to no funding on the community college level, and since I work two jobs, getting out of responsibilities for five or more days at a time is a huge challenge at best. The euphoric inspiration, the feeling of belonging, and the excitement of being in this field at this time fades quickly as I reenter reality. If only I could have these experiences more often, get this sort of refueling on a regular, even weekly or daily, basis.

Thing is, I can.

The center of my life, the rock that keeps everything else grounded, is God. Just as I want to excel in my profession, I desire even more to excel in my walk with Him. I don't need to depend on the occasional revivals, camp meetings, or brilliant "lightbulb" moments that come once in a while and dissipate as I forget the lessons learned. What I need are the daily reminders and weekly meetings with like-minded Christians.

Enter "Quiet Time" and "Church."

Church isn't as much of an issue as it used to be. After years of allowing fear to keep me from taking a chance on a place to fellowship and worship, I have found a church home that ministers to my heart. I have rediscovered old friends, made new ones, and am touched by the truth and beauty in the people there. Quiet time...is another matter. My family and the few women who have either been blessed or cursed by having to live with me all know that daily regimens, outside personal hygiene, are not one of my strong suits. Vitamins. Daily writing time. Exercise. Reading. Homework. You name a habit, I've tried, and failed, over and over, to develop and keep it. I've tried methods to help me, ranging from positive reinforcement, accountability partners (who either forget or are fooled by my tricks to "get out of trouble"), punishment, deprivation, and even financial retribution. Nothing works for long. That first day that I let myself slide, that I say it's ok for me to skip...is the beginning of the end.

If I want to see God working in my life, if I'm sincere about my desire to be an instrument for Him, if I want to weather life's storms better than "just surviving," then I need to get with God's program. As many have said, "How would your significant other feel if you didn't talk to them every day, only called when they needed something, or made excuses every time you wanted to spend time with them?" I understood this before I had a boyfriend, but now that I'm in a serious relationship where we DO talk every day, I see the huge impact this has a lot more clearly...and I'm feeling the guilt.

Thing is, guilt isn't to punish us, but to push us into action. If we feel bad about lying, then we need to be honest. If we feel bad about isolating ourselves, then we need to take a chance and fellowship. If we feel bad because we're using/ignoring God, then we need to take time to be with Him.

It's not going to be easy. I have lots of excuses. I'm making a committment, though, starting today, that I'm going to challenge myself to be the best daughter of the King I can be. One small step at a time, one goal at a time; the most important one I can have is my relationship with God.

Step 1, Day 1: Daily time, set aside, to read my Bible and pray (not just for what I want/need, but to really talk/commune with God).