Hope in a Smile

There's really not a reason for this post. I don't have anything new to report or something terribly inspiring or compelling to write about. No, the impetus for this particular entry is as simple as this: I love this man. That's it. His smile makes me smile, and I wanted to capture these pictures here so that I can take a peek at them whenever I so desire. His smile makes me smile, and today? Today I'm in need of a good dose of that. And still, even though I may feel a little...downcast? I'm still full of hope that there will be a better day. And Joey's smile is a reminder of that simple truth.

How Joey Happened

I want to have a record here of how things happened with Joey. I wrote this letter to my dear friend Ashley, who has sort of been my confidante and mirror since the day we met at Biola. Our lives have paralleled each others for years, and we've always kept each other posted on the latest and greatest (and worst and most heartbreaking) things going on in our lives. We've vented to each other, celebrated together, encouraged one another, and held each other up in prayer, and this year, it was our year, the year that our hearts accepted the truth of what God has for us. It may not look the way we've thought it would, but the reality is better than we could have imagined. Here's my version of what happened:

Over the past year and a half, Joey has struggled a lot with his feelings forme. He fell hard and fast, and then when it became clear that I did not feelthe same way, and wasn't even interested in him at all, he swallowed his feelings, gave them to the Lord, and prayed himself through it. One day in themidst of his angst, Joey heard the Lord say, "wait patiently." He didn't think then that it would mean that my heart would change now, but hedid know that he could trust the lord with his heart. Still, it took about a year for him to get to a point where he felt like he could just be my friend.Even that was hard for him; he didn't know how to be just my friend, but he didn't have a choice because that's all I wanted. And through it all, Iwas terrible to him. I shut him out and kept my distance because I didn't want to give him the wrong idea. I hurt him pretty badly in the process.

Over the past few months, though, things have changed in my own life--a lot. God's been doing some intense healing of my heart, and I got to a point where Joey and I were actual, true friends. He didn't bother me at all anymore. In fact, I began to really enjoy him. I was myself around him, and I discovered not only that he's an amazing friend, but he's one of my best friends. He knows me in a way that I've never experienced. He sees me for who I really am, and for some reason thinks I'm pretty much amazing (something I'll never understand, based on what I put him through).

Meanwhile, some pivitol moments in my walk with the Lord have happened. I've been living under this cloud for the past several months, feeling extremely inferior in every area of my life. And the truth is that I thinkI've been living under it for years, but in the past few months it's gotten much much worse, much more noticeable to the outside on-looker. And I'm in this small group at church where we're reading John Elderidge's Walking with God--a fabulous book--and one of the things we're dealing with is spiritual attack. Well, one night we dealt with spiritual attack that we're facing. And I dealt with mine, and something broke. Seriously. It's like a veil was lifted. A stronghold was broken. A dam broke. A prison door was unlocked. Suddenly I began to see clearly. And I've never experienced anything like that before, but Ashley, everything changed after that.

I immediately began to see Joey differently. And it shocked me. I didn't trust it because I don't trust myself with love. I don't trust myfeelings. I've made bad decisions before, and I didnt want to make a bad decision on Joey to wake up and think, "Just kidding! I don't really have these feelings!" But I realized that I do have feelings for him, and soon discovered that his feelings for me are real. They're still there, strong and true--despite what I put him through. And I didn't breathe aword of it to anyone because--for goodness sake it's Joey! And I was terrible to him. Awful. Spiteful. Mean. I was SO against the idea of being with him. How could I possibly tell him that my heart was changing? Did I really expect him to say, Ok cool! Let's give it a try? It's hard to swallow that sort of pride.

But Ashley, the Lord is good. He changed my heart. He softened it. He had the grace to show me just how wrong I was. And apparently everyone around me could tell things had changed even though I didn't mention it to anyone. So on July 3rd, Christy called me out on it. She asked me about it, and I didn't freak out and tell her "eew,no!" I told her, yes . . . my feelings are changing. She challenged me to tell him, but I chickened out. But . .. Joey had noticed, so he called me outon it. I was put on the spot, and I didn't run from it. It was scary and hard, but real. More real than anything I've experienced before. And so over the past two weeks, we've had an intense, fast-forward, whirlwind of a romance that scares the living daylights out of me, and blows my socks off. Joey's amazing. I don't know how I missed it before. But at the same time, I'm just now discovering my feelings, but Joey's pretty solid in his.

And that's what I need, for sure, but it scares me because it's SO new. Yesterday we were at a BBQ with a lot of people from church, and word got out and spread like wildfire, and let's just say that it ended up feelinglike we'd announced an engagement, not just the fact that we're dating.It freaked me out. It was so sweet to hear "it's about time!" and"we've been praying for this!" and "oh you two are PERFECT together!" but my goodness, it's 2 weeks old! and I'm really having to face my fears about relationships in general. I realize it's not about JOey. JOey's amazing. It's about me. I dont' trust myself with love. I don't want to hurt him, and I'm afraid that I will. I keep asking the Lord to continue what he's started in me--I know it's him andthat he's smiling down on both of us. His timing is perfect, and I know thathe's given me an amazing gift in Joey. Joey seriously is everything that I've been praying for. And when that stares me in the face, it freaks me out because it's real. I know it is. And today (sorry, you're getting the version of this that's borne out of the freak outyesterday), today I'm praying "Lord, let the light of your truth wouldbe ever-illuminated in my heart."

What We Are, and What We're Becoming

I realize that I've written very little about Joey here. It's not to say that I don't want to write about him. I do very much. I already made a resolution to document our lives in pictures, so I've been trying to remember to bring my camera with us wherever we go and to actually use it. It feels funny, I frequently forget, and when I do remember, I feel silly, like I'm capturing moments that don't really matter because they're just simply little moments in a normal day. But I realize that these small moments when taken collectively make a life. And I am determined to document our life. Our life. Wow.

So far, I've done a fairly ok job. Not great, but ok. Here's one of my favorites from just a couple of weeks ago. We were on the BART train heading into San Francisco to meet up with one of his friends from PA school. There's nothing particularly special about this picture, except that I remember that moment. I remember sitting with him on that train, I remember how the sun was setting and we were laughing and full of the promise of what lay ahead. You wouldn't know it by looking at us in this picture; we're not smiling, nor do we look particularly excited about much. But to me? This picture is comfort, a representation of my new definition of Home.

So maybe I need to resolve to write about our life as well, to not leave it as moments frozen in a digital frame, but instead to expand on it, paint a true picture of who and what we are.
We’re nothing special, but oh what a special thing we have. No, ours is not a sweeping romance of epic proportions. But to us, it is. It’s made up of small moments, of seemingly insignificant times when taken together are carving out what we're becoming. I'm not done. He's not done. We're not done. With every day that passes, our lives takes shape just a bit more, and I can begin to see more clearly what’s intended to be made of us. And I'm not going to take it for granted or miss a moment of it. I'm determined.

The Joy and Pain of Writing

I'm supposed to be writing tonight, but as I sit quietly in the corner of this coffeehouse, I realize that purposefully taking time out to do so proves to be more difficult than my imagination makes it out to be. This isn't new; each time I intend to spend a significant amount of time writing, I somehow find that I have nothing to say. How can that be when every moment of every day, I try to make sense of the jumbled mess of thoughts that are bursting to be written out? You'd think that they'd spill out the moment I give them a chance to, but instead it's as if they've suddenly got stage fright, like they're shy children who refuse to say out loud what they've whispered to their mother in the privacy of their own home.

But God said, "Write." The message was direct--and confirmed many times. The most recent time was perhaps an encouragement for me to do so, sure, but sometimes, his confirmation feels overwhelming, and I think, "How in the world will I ever write anything worthy of what You want me to say?" Part of me has wondered if this desire in me was born of my own selfishness, but the more I think about it, the more I realize that my desires are lining up with God's dreams for me--and isn't that the way it should be? Before, His gentle encouragement felt like Him saying, "Sure! Go ahead and write." But now? I feel a sense of urgency, like it's a sort of command--like I need to do it, like I must do it, like something's on the line and I need to do my part--and I don't want to disappoint. Oh, how easily I could disappoint the God of the universe. The Creator of the universe. The ultimate in creativity. He's got endless reserves of it. There's no end to it. How can my piddley little mind create anything worthwhile? Anything of particular interest or wonder? I'm just me, little ol' me, with a heart desperate to write, and words bubbling up to the surface and falling into a jumbled mess.

The problem is that there's simply so much to say, and I honestly don't know where to start. I have stories--several, in fact. But they live inside of me, they're mine--and to put them to paper risks someone else sharing them. Which, I suppose, is exactly what a good author would want, isn't it? Isn't that the point? To create something for another to enjoy, or to enjoy right along with someone else? Watching the face of my daughter as I read a story to her that I've written, seeing her smile as she points to the picture that makes her breath catch in her throat, knowing that her uncle drew it for her to enjoy? Knowing that somehow my experience could encourage or inspire someone who's encoutering the same sort of heartache that I've walked through? It all feels so important, so overwhelming, so necessary, so difficult.

I think that people assume that writing is easy. It's not. It's perhaps one of the most difficult things in the world, but like anything, if you love it, or if you're good at it, it comes a lot more easily than for those who do not share the same sort of sentiment toward it. As for me, I love it. I love it so much that I pray that one day it will be my occupation. To write, to read, to raise my children, and to serve my Lord. Perhaps somehow they'll all be related.

For now though, I must not be morose when I do have an opportunity to write. Slunking around feeling sorry for myself that I cannot do what I love simply won't work. Instead, stealing every moment possible, writing down every last thought or idea that happens to cross my mind during the course of a normal day, exploring thoughts and ideas on paper or on screen--someday it will count for something. And someday starts today.

I admit it: I stole this from Mel.

I was stalking Joey back in the day...when I didn't really know him yet. I found this video on his best friend Mel's myspace page and I stole it (thanks, Mel!)It was titled "Joey's Bubble Mess" and I thought it was hilarious.

And now? I love it that I get to kiss him. Bubble mess and all.

Journal Keeping

I just came across these thoughts I jotted down on keeping a journal. . .

I remember writing in my journal, furiously trying to record every last thought that entered my over-active imagination. Sometimes my mind would get so far ahead of my pen that I'd scramble to catch up. Other times my pen was eager to do the work, but my mind decided to go on vacation. It's not easy to record your thoughts when your thoughts aren't cooperating. Maybe there are some that are eager to get out, fully-formed and ready to be introduced to the world. Then there are others that aren't quite ready to make their debut. They're still being formulated, perfected, evolved. They'll come spilling out on the page when they're ready. Best not to push them too hard.

Selflessly Selfish

The worst question my mom could ever ask me when I was a kid was, "Honey, have you had enough alone time?" I hated the question, usually because I knew that when she asked it, it was because I was being a brat. I'd either start crying at the sound of her words, or make a snide comment and storm off into my room, fuming from the frustration of feeling overwhelmed by people, of having to interact one too many times with another person. I needed to recharge, to sneak away from the noise of the world and retreat into the safety of my own thoughts. It's always been like that. The older I've gotten, the more I like being around people though. I see the value of shared experience, a good long conversation, the joy of simply going through life with another person beside you, but when things get off balance, I get off balance.

I've been struggling with how to balance my life these days, now that there's someone I'm sharing it with. Even before marriage, two lives begin to merge together. His plans become my plans, my plans become our plans, and our plans start taking precedence over time spent with others--even time spent by myself. I've known this would become an issue, but I've felt selfish, like rest for my weary soul was something that was self-serving and unfair to anyone, especially Joey.

I got an email from my dad this week. He'd read between the lines of an email I wrote to my mom, and he felt compelled to encourage me to take care of me first. If I don't do that, I won't be up to the task of taking care of and further developing other relationships. His timing was perfect. He said, "Rachel needs alone time. She recharges her batteries by being alone. If she doesn't get it, she is not happy. She feels pulled in too many directions. (Remember, I lived with you for 21+ years!) She feels like she is running on empty if she doesn't have enough time alone with herself. God made Rachel like this. He designed her to be the wonderful, godly, talented, beautiful, smart, caring and centered person that she is. But, she can get thrown off center by not taking care of herself. And, if she is not taking care of herself, everyone else can be seen as an intrusion...
And . . .
Rachel tends to have a fearful and private side. If God is leading you to Joey, you can trust God. You will grow in faith and love in the process. Your analytical side is stronger than your feeling side (you have a feelings side, but tend to lean more on analysis). But, love is more feelings than analytical. So, it will take you a bit longer to grow into trusting your feelings. But, if God is leading, you can trust them. "

Funny how parents know us better than we realize. Even our Daddy God, He knows us better than we give him credit for. Sure, we know it in an obtuse "God knows everything about everyone" sort of way, but He actually knows the ins-and-outs of everything we're going through at any given moment of any given day. He's attuned to it, and He's communicating with us through it all the time. Whether or not we hear Him, or recognize his voice, well, that's another thing. I wanted--I needed-time alone last night. An empty house never sounded better. And you know what? that's exactly what I got. What a gift straight from my father's heart to mine. And this morning, when I opened my book that I read in the mornings to reflect on and connect with the Lord before my day begins, it was all about being centered, needing rest, not over analyzing, but trusting my Father and Friend completely. Oh, how timely this was. It was another gift straight from His heart to mine. It said:

Alive in Jesus
Living out of the center enables us to blend for a moment into a greater background than our own fears, to merely be still, and to know that God is God. It means that I don't figure out, I don't analyze. I simply lose myself in the experience of just being alive, of being in a community of believers, simply knowing that it's good to be there, even if I don't know where "there" is or why it's good. An inner stillness assures me that it is enough right now to be centered, to be in Christ Jesus, and that gratefulness is both the heart of living and the heart of prayer.
Psalm 23

So today I resolve to be selflessly selfish by staying centered on Jesus. If I do that, I know he'll tell me when I need to sneak away from everything and spend time with him, and with myself. Only when I am full can I have anything left to give.