Perfecting Your Craft

The most freeing way to think about perfecting your craft is to understand that the process itself is perfecting in its own right, because true perfection is not realistic, attainable, or even intriguing. In the world of smiles, for example, a crooked one is my favorite.

I have been wanting to pick up the art of drawing again like I used to when I was younger. At the time, it didn’t matter that I drew outside the lines or that my faces were illogically created or proportions were off, because it was so much more about the act of drawing than it was about the final drawing itself. Mostly, I liked getting messy and I liked looking at the drawings of my fellow art students as we walked around the room at the end of each class. I liked how the subject was always the same, but no drawing looked like another. I liked the music my instructor played and I liked the way my mom reacted to what I had created. None of my joy was derived from the satisfaction of a job well done.

I purchased a sketch pad and pencils over three months ago with the undeniable itch to draw again, but as soon as I realized that drawing is nothing like riding a bike – I hardly remembered how to hold my pencil with ease, let alone draw into existence a believable mouth – I became discouraged. I expected to glide with ease back into the craft, but instead I was anxious and overwhelmed and irritated with myself.

But, as frustrating as it can be (and more often than not, it is frustrating with a capital “F”), I’m trying.

Without the pressure to produce, perfecting your craft becomes much more satisfactory. As a perfectionist, letting go of the stumbling in my craft is difficult, but certainly not impossible. I know I will get better – each stroke will become more fluid – but avoiding my pencil in fear of not fulfilling my own expectation is unfair to my inner artist. She’s in there! Deep, deep down! For one, it is completely impossible to become a better one without ever creating art, but even more devastatingly, I am withholding joy from myself. I am afraid of not being perfect, but, spoiler alert: perfection doesn’t exist. Not anywhere in this world, at least.

I’m not ready to sell any pieces to an art gallery, or even show my mom my latest drawings, but if the worst that happens is I tear out a piece of paper and start again, it’s really not even a loss at all.

My own own fear of self-rejection is what stops me from taking risks before anyone else even has the chance to criticize. I have been believing a lie that if I never start something, I don’t have the option to fail. This is true, although never starting something also means I don’t have the option to succeed, either, nor do I get to do something that I enjoy doing just for the sake of enjoyment. And, really, between trips to the dentist and hair appointments and work and folding the laundry, how often do we get to do things we love just because we love them?

Much like I would encourage my friends to do something they take joy in, I’m choosing to be my own best ally. Entertaining any other thought is doing my art no good, and it’s doing me no good, either.

I’ve started drawing on nights that I have free because I love it. I get frustrated and irritated and overwhelmed, but at least holding my pencil is becoming familiar again. Right now, in my infancy as an artist entering back into the game of art, that in itself is worthy of celebration and of sharing, even if my drawings aren’t quite there yet.

Abundance

There are few cosmetics processes that I have done on a regular basis. As a curly girl with a uniform of dark jeans and flannel tees from my grandpa’s closet, those things that a lot of America considers maintenance seem more like a luxury. Is it my Seattleite? Or my post-graduate? Or, maybe, my own sort of rebellion in the form of authentic menswear and far-stretching conditioning treatments? Despite my minimal effort in self-pampering in regards to most things, I am the first to advocate for eyebrow maintenance. Perhaps this is because I have the kind of eyebrows that, if untended, look as such, and not in the Seattleite-post-graduate-rebellious sort of way, and not necessarily in the young Brooke Shields kind of way either. I am a bit of a brow fanatic, and a proud one at that.

In my striving for kept brows, I made my way over to Gene Juarez one February weekend for my standing appointment, avoiding eye contact with the hair stylists so they wouldn’t recognize my slacking in hair upkeep. As I was checking out, the woman at the desk handed me a free hair mask sample, seeing as it was Valentine’s Day and everyone was showing some love in their own way. Yes! Free sample! Hair mask! I am a winner with freshly groomed brows and the potential for more nourished hair! If only I worked here, I thought, and I would have all the free samples of hair masks a young woman could ever want. I even thought, for a very quick moment, that I might submit an application to the front desk, because wouldn’t I just be the happiest thing around with an unlimited supply of hair treatments?

And then I made an outward face to myself to express my disappointment in associating happiness with access to free hair conditioner, and remembering that I, too, have access to beauty products in abundance in my own line of work. The “Free Polish!” bin sitting by the front desk of my work office is always full of nail colors, treatments, and miscellaneous beauty products. And it hardly ever gets touched, unless guests or interviewees come in and spot it while waiting in the lobby for their meeting. In the same way that a Seattleite can tell a tourist from a local by their use of an umbrella in the rain, it is only those that do not work for this beauty company that are intrigued by the abundance of available beauty product.

I figure my beloved free hair mask suffers the same fate – only appreciated within the frame of limited quantity and accessibility. Why is it that we take these things for granted? And what can we do to appreciate those things that we have even in abundance?

We take these things for granted because we can. Or, I do, at least. We are promised life and life abundant, but the moment we start to take abundance for granted, our vision begins to blur and we are unable to see the gifts surrounding us – and we are in fear that we will never have enough. We fear that the abundance we have will run out.

The cool thing, though, is that you will never run out of abundance so long as you are grateful for what you have in this moment. We live under the authority of a King that promises abundance in life, and nothing we do will lead to the ending of the abundance we have been given. Anthony Robbins said, “When you are grateful, fear disappears and abundance appears”.

It’s our job to receive the abundance that we have already been given, and to acknowledge it and to appreciate it. Without appreciating the overflowing blessings that we have today, it will be impossible to see the cornucopia of gifts tomorrow. We already have a life of fullness – but to see it is something entirely different. To see it requires not life in abundance, but rather gratitude in abundance to see all that we already have.

The “Extra” in Extraordinary

I work a nine to five office job and go to bed at approximately the same time every night. I often eat the same meal for dinner for weeks on end, and thinking of upcoming vacations in which my normal schedule is interrupted often gives me feelings of anxiety. When I’m deciding on a pedicure color, I always pick red, alternating between a bright cherry and a deep burgundy, learning the hard way after choosing coral once on a whim that switching it up is just not my thing.

The most ridiculous thing I have ever done is book a spontaneous trip to Las Vegas with my girlfriend and flying out the very next day, skipping work to do so. I could not have been more proud of my impulse decision – thinking I was living out my youth as every twenty-two year old should – although, admittedly, none of my coworkers were expected to go into the office on that Friday because our internet was down, and my phone was glued to one hand in case a work email came in (while the other held onto a margarita). My friend and I joked that she would keep me fun and I would keep her alive.

I am a creature of habit. And I’m very happy with my regular routine.

Extraordinary is not a term I would use to define my life, nor would I define it as melancholy or negative. It certainly feels more mundane and ordinary than anything else. However, as of recent, I am finding that I am struck particularly by things that I encounter on a daily basis. It is as though I am really seeing things for the first time, and hearing things that I have never heard before, despite the fact that what strikes me are those things that I have both seen and heard before, possibly every day.

My commute is one that I sometimes take for granted: I walk to and from work, passing the Space Needle and Key Arena on my way. I often leave the office just as the sun is setting, which paints the most glorious array of colors across the sky. Street lights usually turn on in the thirty minutes it takes me to walk home, which lend a warm glow reflected in the slick streets still wet from an afternoon shower. I usually think how what I am seeing would make a great scene for a movie, or would make an excellent painting, but never do I stop to think, “this is what I am seeing right now, with my own eyes. I am not watching a movie or looking at a painting. I am living this in this moment, as it is happening.” On a normal day after work, I acknowledge the beauty around me, but I do not allow myself to take it in. On a normal day, I do not give it enough attention to really, truly strike me.

This was normal, until just a few weeks ago, when the view of my daily commute struck me like a bat meeting a baseball for a home run. It hit me hard. I was hurrying home as usual, thinking of how I needed to get quickly to the next thing with as little distraction as possible, until I glanced up to see the Space Needle, highlighted on one side by the setting sun, framed perfectly by the silhouettes of two houses on my street.

This is not something I see rarely. In fact, the Space Needle and most of Seattle’s skyline can be seen from my living room window. The Needle is so pointedly the focus of my house’s architectural positioning that we signed our lease without hesitation, hardly realizing how poorly built it really is. On my way home on this evening, though, it felt as though I was really seeing it for the first time, despite the fact that I eat breakfast with the Needle every single morning.

Similarly, I was listening to the radio in my car on the way to go hiking last weekend. I was singing along to a song that I have heard at least a hundred times. I know the lyrics, I know the tune; like the Space Needle, this is a song that I have encountered on a near daily basis for at least several months. I might even be a little bit tired of it.

For the first time, though, I heard and I listened and I understood. I sang along, “I know who goes before me. I know who stands behind. The God of Angel Armies is always by my side.”

The God of Angel Armies is always by my side.

How is it that I hadn’t understood this before? How is it that I had heard this a hundred times and only now, this hundredth time, was I so overwhelmed to the point of tears?

I hurry through things. I am comfortable in my daily routine, and because I think it is mundane, it becomes mundane to my closed eyes and closed ears. I cannot see nor hear the wonder that surrounds me in everything – including an overplayed radio song and a normal commute – when I believe that I have seen and heard it all. On the contrary – nothing about the daily is mundane.There is so much to see and so much to hear for the first time, as long as you open your heart to the extraordinary in the things that you find ordinary.

Recurrence of the wonderful does not make it any less wondrous.

Why Caring Requires Strength

I came across a post on my Instagram feed this morning that read, “The less you care, the happier you’ll be”. I see this mentality everywhere today; this certainly was not an ad hoc situation in which the source is particularly and uniquely cynical. I see my Pinterest board, which I genuinely use for inspiration, strewn with similar quotes and (admittedly funny) memes of ladylike women in dresses declaring, “I didn’t [care] yesterday, don’t [care] today, and honestly probably won’t [care] tomorrow”. Another reads, “I care so little I almost passed out”. I laughed. And then I felt discouraged.

Late American novelist Jack Kerouac said, “It always makes me proud to love the world somehow – hate’s so easy compared”.

 How true this is! Loving others is hard, especially with true intention.

Having an aloof attitude about the world in which we live seems cool, as though those who truly are able to embody their carelessness in all that they do are the lucky ones. But, I can’t help but think that those who care more deeply and more widely are the ones who know true joy; the ones who care more are the really lucky ones, despite what messages viral memes or Instagram posts may perpetuate.

I am unable to think of a single occurrence in my twenty-two years in which I felt empty and unhappy after actively caring for someone else. In every single instance, I felt immediate happiness, as well as enduring joy, and a greater sense of fulfillment. We are told often and explicitly how awesome it is to not have the desire to care for others. We are told that this carelessness is freeing, but I can only imagine how trapped one must feel having to pretend to not care for anyone but themselves.

Not only does this seem lonely and miserable, but it is also the easy way out. Caring for others can be seem difficult; it requires selflessness, time, and breaking the barrier that is your comfort zone. Caring for others requires action. Those that do not have the drive to care for others seem strong, but it is the opposite: the strongest of women are those that seek to care for others.

Knowing that to care for others requires strength is daunting. But – here is the good news – there is no other requirement! Caring for others looks like buying a book for a friend you know she would love, or smiling at a stranger in passing (oh, the nerve it takes! Especially for my fellow Seattleites who can attest that this is more difficult than it should be). It looks like following through on plans for a coffee date rather than canceling, of which I am guilty more often than I would like to admit. It looks like sending a coworker an email to let them know you are thinking of them when they have had a rough week. It looks like writing a check for charity, or buying the next person in line at Storyville their cup of coffee. It looks like going out of your way in the big things and the little things, even when it might be inconvenient or uncomfortable.

Caring for others requires a love that is selfless and strong and unique. In a world which idolizes those that are only after their own happiness, via wealth or fame or popularity – and that are without a care for others – strive for difference. Strive for selflessness in your caring, strength in your caring, and uniqueness in your caring.

Strive to love others outlandishly, and you will be crazy loved right back.

A Good Kind of Rejection

Just ask and it will be given to you; seek after it and you will find. Continue to knock and the door will be opened for you. All who ask receive. Those who seek, find what they seek, and he who knocks, will have the door opened.

So, if this is true – and the Word itself is truer than the sky is blue – how is it that I may ask God for something and never receive it? Is His word really true? Or, I may pose the question:Does He not love me enough to provide me the things that I have asked of Him?  This seems so simple. According to Matthew 7:7, ask and you will receive.

But there’s a catch.

Jesus hears our every ask of Him. He hears those pleas we speak out loud, and He hears those we are too shy to speak of beyond the safety of our secret-keeping minds. He hears us when we ask for a financial break, a jolt of energy on an early Monday morning, or a sense of peace in the midst of a chaotic week. He hears us when we ask for restoration in a broken friendship, a new love interest, or reassurance that we are as worthy as He says we are. He hears us. And yet, He doesn’t always respond in the way we expect or hope; sometimes, He doesn’t respond at all. His definite “no” does not mean we are unheard, and it certainly does not mean we are unloved. In fact, His denial of our requests is often because He loves us. Like a father that loves his children (or The Father that loves His children), He wants the best for us, regardless of what we ask of Him. We ask Him for things because we are a little bit impulsive and crave instant gratification, and because we are very, very human.

Even today I continue to remind myself that His lack of gifting me all the things I ask is because I am asking for things that my mind wants, or that I think I want because society tells me I want it. I ask Him for an increase in my finances because stability does not seem to be enough, and because I want extravagance and abundance. But, as I know very well, the love of money is the root of all evil, and by pouring monetary abundance into my life, I would have a much easier time saying, “Thanks, God. I’m good to go for a while now, so don’t plan on hearing from me until I need to make another request in the next few months once this cash runs out”. Oh, His heart! I can only imagine how broken it would be. And mine – it would be shattered knowing that I have turned from Him in favor of false and fleeting materialistic fulfillment. Have you ever prayed for the mending of a damaged friendship, only to look back in hindsight to realize that the friendship was nothing more than draining? Have you begged for a job or an acceptance letter to a college, only to come across something better once denied? He loves us, and He loves to provide, but he refuses to harm His children by giving us things that we think we want, but are only hurtful to us in the long run. He’s willing to bear the brunt of frustration and impatience on our end because He wants to give us things that will truly feed our souls.

That’s how much He loves us.

I have asked for so many things, truly believing that I was asking for something that I wanted and that He would want for me. I became frustrated in my modeling career, because as soon as I told Jesus that He could have my life and do with it what He pleases, I stopped getting cast for jobs. I thought, “But this is what I want!” and I prayed that God would bless me. I thought I could word my prayer to appeal to Him, saying, “If I get this job, then I will use my presence to bring light to a place that is dark. I will be a source of joy in this, and I will inspire others to be kind and honest and healthy in an industry that is often the very opposite of each of those things”. I thought that I could have my cake and eat it, too – that I would be doing something that brought me excitement and glorifying Him at the same time. But He knew better than that. He knew that, by allowing me to continue to model as I had asked, I would drive myself further into a hole of self-criticism and self-depravation. I would continue to have an unhealthy body image and a relationship with food to reflect that, and He loves me too much to have given me what I prayed so hard for.

He gives us the greatest desires of our hearts. These desires, however, are not what we are taught to desire – money or popularity or verbal recognition or friends or trips to exotic places in the depths of winter. Joy in Him is the greatest desire of our heart, and He will give Himself to you in abundance just as long as you ask for it. Do not get discouraged if your request is met with opposition, because He knows you and knows your ways. His “no” is not denial of the heart’s desire, it is the denial of something harmful that only He can foresee.

Have no doubt, in all that you ask – He hears you. But He loves you more.

The Unattainable

There is one thing that not one of us will ever attain: perfection. This is perfection in righteousness, forgiveness, patience, love, selflessness, and the list goes on. We are so painfully aware of our own imperfections that we often define ourselves by these things; yet, contrarily, we are so quick to call others “perfect” in referring to their talents, their looks, their good deeds, their ability to get done in one day what might take us a week (or two). Especially at this time, in the midst of resolutions and the excitement of a fresh start that is the beginning of 2015, how easy is it for us to succumb to the pressure of needing to finally attain perfection this year. I hear, far too often, criticism of the self – and I am not going to deny that a great percentage of the self-criticism I hear is coming out of my own mouth – while jumping so quick to praise others for their perfection, usually accompanied by a comment of self-deprecation or a tone of self-disappointment.

Need I remind us: perfection, as defined by Merriam-Webster is “being entirely without fault or defect” or “faithfully reproducing the original”. I know not one person, even my very favorites, that are entirely free of shortcoming and devoid of flaw. And, further, I do not know one person that immaculately resembles the original that is our perfect and beloved Savior.

I think it might be time for us to do two things. The first would be to give ourselves some grace and let ourselves be flawed (of course, appreciating and loving our flaws for what they are is ideal, but just letting them be is the first step in self-acceptance). The second goal would be to stop calling others what they are not – perfect – because it creates a much greater sense of disappointment when we are unable to meet the standard by which we are held. Instead, to call someone for what they truly are – may it be generous, loving, compassionate, beautiful, captivating, or just all-around wonderful – is so much greater a compliment, because there is no room for false praise. In calling a friend lovely, you are reminding her that she is lovely, including her flaws and imperfections, and not because she is without them.

Matthew 5:48 says, “Be perfect, therefore, as your Heavenly Father is perfect.”

Jesus isn’t telling us to be perfect in our humanly ways, because this is unattainable. Instead, He asks us to be one step closer to perfect by loving and fearing the One that is wholly and completely and inherently perfect. We will never be perfect in the things that we do, and that is okay. Even better than okay, that is relieving! Rather, strive for perfection in glorifying Him, as He is perfect, and solely in doing so, you will be able to close the gap between yourself and true and holy perfection.

A Resolution of New Sorts

I know I am not alone in my reflection of the year past and the anticipation of the year to come, as we hang in limbo between Christmas’ ending and 2015’s beginning. What a strange feeling this time of the year brings; I cannot help but feel both a great sense of accomplishment, as well as simultaneous disappointment, in looking at all that I have done (and all that I have not done, on the contrary) since 2013 came to a close. Although each day seems as though I hardly make a dent in what is the purpose of my life, I am not blind to the fact that the accomplishments of each day add up to one whirlwind of a year: I spent my last spring break in Cabo with my sorority sisters. I graduated from college. I started my first job on salary. I paid my first month’s rent on my own. I got a promotion. I became a member of my church. I gave my life to Jesus. To think that these are the first things that come to mind, and that there are many more things I have accomplished on a smaller scale, is relieving and satisfying.

However, despite the steps I have taken this year in becoming more of myself, I have to laugh at what I have accomplished in terms of my resolutions for this year. I have actually taken steps in the opposite direction in meeting these resolutions that I gave to myself for 2014, although there is no doubt in my heart or my head that these steps, though seemingly backward, were actually greater strides forward than I could have imagined for myself only one year ago.

Let me explain:

My first resolution for 2014 was to publish more blog posts (one per week, to be exact, since I have read that specific goals are more likely to be met than general, vague ones). Rather than posting more often, however, I became uninspired in my writing and ceased writing altogether. I deleted my originally fashion-focused blog completely. Instead, I renovated my entire project and found purpose in writing about things centered around Jesus and our beauty in praising Him rather than the praises of this world. I am crossing the finish line of 2014 with fewer posts than I started, but finally am I inspired and fulfilled in my writing, rather than feeling like “just another fashion blogger”. I no longer feel pressure to post, because I am not writing for anyone but those seeking the same that I am: His Kingdom.

My second resolution for 2014 was to deep condition my hair more often in an attempt to grow it as long as possible. Not only did I not deep condition my hair (the effort! the time!), but I chopped it off toward the end of the summer following a fairly impulsive decision to do so only the day prior after browsing Pinterest for too long. Interestingly, I expected to regret it. I bought waterproof mascara to wear to my appointment expecting to cry over the loss of my hair, but my fear was not going to stop me in following through once I had made the decision to go for the chop. I no longer looked like a college student too cheap to get a decent hair cut, although I had a lot more money in college than I do now. The irony! And not only that, but I felt liberated in that my longer hair, albeit scientifically proven “sexier”, was no more a source of confidence than my shorter, bouncier hair.

My third resolution for 2014 was to lose weight, because my perfectionism can get the best of me, and I have for so long believed that thinness and happiness are directly related by cause and effect. Much like my blogging and my hair, however, I did not meet this goal and instead took steps in the opposite direction. I have taken an interest in lifting weights and sprint intervals, rather than long sessions on the elliptical trying with all my might to attain a body that mine will never be – waifish and slight. At five feet and eleven inches tall, I gain muscle easily, which some have praised as a “dream”, but for someone who has associated the term feminism with characteristics such as petite, skinny, and small, gaining weight can be uncharted territory and nightmarish at times. I have found myself questioning why I should work out at all if it means having to buy a size larger in pants to fit my thighs, and then I remember that I work out because I feel better when I do, and because it means I am stronger and healthier, and that working out to meet societal expectations is not the purpose of my life. In fact, the purpose of my life is to reject this very human ideal and remind others of the same!

God says to Jesus – His partner in craftsmanship – in Genesis 1:26-27, “‘Let us make man in our image, after our likeness. And let them have dominion over the fish of the sea and the birds of the heavens and over the livestock and over all the earth and over every creeping thing that creeps on earth.’ So God created man in His own image; in the image of God he created him, male and female He created them”.

This means you and me! We are like Him. How am I to rule over this earth and fulfill my purpose if my body is weak and fragile? He has great plans for me and you that can only be accomplished if our bodies can carry us through the adversity of this life.

I may be the only person that I know that did not only not meet my resolutions, but instead did exactly the contrary in attempting to meet each one. I gave myself goals for 2014 thinking that I would come out a better woman: one with a more full and extensive blog, longer hair, and lighter body. And yet here I am, reflecting on this past year, with fewer posts to my name, curls that barely skim my collarbone, and a few pounds heavier. Comparing the person I am today to what I expected for myself exactly one year ago, I am much less of a woman. Contrarily, I am crossing over into 2015 more healthy, more happy, more inspired, and more free.

I am not going to set limitations for myself in the form of resolutions this year. Instead, I am going to see how much deeper and wider my growth is in 2015 by allowing myself to become more of me. In a way, this a resolution in itself; but for the first time, this is one in which I am not bound by worldly expectation.

A True Glisten and Gleam

The wise men say, “Where is this newborn, who is King of the Jews? When we were far away in the east we saw the star, and we have followed its glisten and gleam all this way to worship Him.” Matthew 2:2 

I love this so much. In the depths of the Holiday season, it seems almost inevitable to forget the reason we celebrate Christmas, and the head space which should be devoted to glorifying Jesus and giving thanks for His promises, is taken over by thoughts of gifts, decorations, gatherings, cookies, (and, then beating ourselves up about overindulging). Praising God for His gift to us is no longer at the forefront of our minds, because we are too busy acting out our roles as consumers in a world which doesn’t let us think we are good for anything else. No matter how far you go to avoid the mall, I can assume that your email inbox is just as chock-full of discounts and promises that this is the year – finally! – that you will “be the perfect gift-giver” as mine is.

At this time of the year, it is so easy to forget why we celebrate Christmas at all. It is so easy to forget ourselves and who we are because of Him and what He did for us. Jesus was and is the single greatest gift we will ever receive (although your Anthropologie email this morning might try and persuade you otherwise).

I sometimes find myself questioning: What are we? Are we merely consumers, bakers, hostesses, gift-givers, carolers, hard-working women just trying to get through the season as best we can? Why does it seem as though we are keeping our eyes on the light at the end of the tunnel that is the start of the new year, rather than enjoying fully all that this season is meant to be?

We are so much more than that. We are His daughters! We are His beloved! We are here to celebrate Jesus’ birthday and the immense gift that He is. At this time of the year especially, it is my prayer to follow the “glisten and gleam” of the star that is our Savior, rather than becoming distracted by the bright lights, flashy advertising, and loud messages that this world is sending our way. The wise men were not hesitant to follow the light, even at a great distance. Their motive was not washed away by distraction; instead, they kept their eyes on the glisten and gleam of the star leading them to Christ. Rather than letting glimpses of shimmering objects of this world catch my eye, I hope for all of us that we stay focused on the one thing that is lit from within – the rest of these things are merely catching the light from another and acting as though they are self-lit. In all that I do, I hope that God is lighting my way. I hope that His glisten and gleam is leading me toward Him, and I am unfazed by the temporary shine and empty promises of worldly goods.

In this moment, take a breath and revel in His grace and glory. Find peace reminding yourself that gifts and gatherings are wonderful, but they are not at the center of this season; One much greater than us is. Despite all marketing attempts, we cannot be the perfect gift-giver, nor should we try to be. This is not in our nature, because we are imperfect. Instead, let’s enjoy this time to remember that it is not our job to give the perfect gift, but to receive it.

Enjoying the Unseen

It seems counterintuitive to take comfort in mystery.

“Is mystery not the antithesis of comfort?” you might be asking. Comfort – contrary to what our culture claims daily – does not live in knowing what the stock market will look like next month, or in knowing where a new job will take us. Unlike what the world says, comfort does not reside in a steady income, effortless and simple friendships, or a predictable career.

How truly comforting is it to know that we don’t have to know everything? That is not our job; we do not have the authority. We do not have the human capacity to know everything – especially in knowing what tomorrow holds – nor are we created to be this way. Although we do not know, the One who is so much greater, so much wiser, and so much more trustworthy, is the One that holds this information. We cannot expect ourselves to know, nor would I want any one of us to hold this type of power in knowledge, as none of us has the responsibility to handle it well.

“We do, however, speak a message of wisdom among the mature, but not the wisdom of this age or of the rulers of this age, who are coming to nothing. No, we declare God’s wisdom, a mystery that has been hidden and that God destined for our glory before time began. None of the rulers of this age understood it, for if they had, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory. However, as it is written:

‘What no eye has seen,
what no ear has heard,
and what no human mind has conceived
the things that God prepared for those who love Him ‘”. 1 Corinthians 2:6-9.

We can spend hours pouring over graphs and charts to predict the occurrences of tomorrow, and as humans, we are inclined to want to know and to be right about our predictions. The truth is that our future is a mystery, and it will remain as such despite our unending attempts to know. It is a guessing game, and each of us knows just as much about tomorrow as the next (which is really very little, if anything at all). Find comfort in knowing that your character and your good works are predetermined, and it is not your job to figure it all out. Your job, rather is to choose between one of the two: worry about the mystery, or enjoy it.

Independence

The characteristic “independent” has a acquired a very positive connotation in our language today, especially when speaking in terms of women. An “independent” woman – is one that does not depend on anyone else for her happiness – she is self-sufficient, self-inspired, problem-solving, strong, smart, do-it-yourself everything. It’s a lot to take on as one person.

But at what point does being “independent” become detrimental to this woman? I think I have an idea, because my perception of my own “independence” has caused harm in some of my relationships. I am a listener and consider myself a problem-solver, or at least a solution-seeker if not the former. Because of this, however, I have come to pride myself on not bringing my struggles to others, because I am “independent”. I have thought, if I am so “independent”, why would I need to depend on others to help me fight these battles? If I lean on others when facing adversity, does this make me dependent?

No. This makes me a woman. This makes me human! Resisting the shoulder of others to lean on because I am “independent” doesn’t help me grow greater independence; rather, it grows greater distance between myself and others. We are not meant to live in seclusion from others; we are meant to live in community.

“They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer. Everyone was filled with awe at the many wonders and signs performed by the apostles. All the believers were together and had everything in common. They sold property and possessions to give to anyone who had need. Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts, praising God and enjoying the favor of all people, and the Lord added to their number daily those who were being saved.” Acts 2:42-46.

Independence is wonderful. It is a great thing to be self-sufficient, self-inspired, problem-solving, strong, and smart. But there is strength in numbers – on days that I can’t fight all of my battles on my own, my dependence on others is a way to grow closer with them and to grow closer to Jesus. He uses community to strengthen us and to provide wisdom and encouragement and joy and connection. If your “independence” is keeping you from being vulnerable others, reevaluate your interpretation of the word. Remind yourself that sovereignty is one thing, but separation is another. We are not created for seclusion, and it can’t do all the fighting all on our own. Be vulnerable, and take risks in reaching out to others. You will find greater support, stability, and love in doing so – and only then will you be able to give it back.