You DON’T Deserve It!

Hey guys, I know it has been awhile. I’ve come to understand that sometimes what you think is the most messed up parts of life will quickly become lesser than what you are about to experience. I have also come to understand that I cannot be as perfect as I would like to be. I can be so consistent for a large period of time but chaos will come and my idea of perfection will fly out the window yet again.

It is my hope that today’s writing will help you, possibly even inspire you to take life’s difficulties from a different angle. It is my hope that if you are in despair that you can reach from my suffering and learn to wade through the deep waters as I have. Because in reality, the bottom is that sometimes life just sucks. Life hurts. Life is definitely no walk in the park. Sometimes we may find that what we think is the most perfect thing in the world ends up uncovering its blemishes or even worse, to find out that our item of perfection was nowhere near what we thought it to be. I’m guessing something or even someone probably came to mind as you read that. It’s a dark place to open up to. It’s a difficult thing to think about. But I want you to hold on to that person, hold on to that thing, and when you’re ready, keep reading.

I’ve been hurt, as I’m sure you all have. Not once, not twice, but more times than I can count. Am I alone in this? No. Does it help me to know others have been through my pain? Well, if I’m truly honest, not all the time. And that’s ok! Nobody has truly been in your exact shoes at your exact moment in time with your exact problem. That’s a time and space nobody can fill but you. But what you have to understand is that when people reach out to you, they are trying to comfort you by telling you they know what it’s like. It may not help you at that moment. In fact, it may make you mad that they would even try to feel like they know how you’re feeling. And that’s ok! But try to understand why they are saying what they are saying, and if you need to, just tell them to listen. People often feel awkward by not giving you advice so let them know their silence is ok. Be open. Communicate. Back off my sidetracked thought…

Pain sucks. Being hurt sucks. There have been times when people have admitted things to me that almost shut me down right away. In those moments, I truly wish I had never gotten out of bed. I wish that I could relieve myself of my duties and just revert into a hole where nobody knows who I am or that I even exist. At those moments, ignorance truly seems like bliss. It absolutely sucks to be in emotional pain. But, hiding pain is not the answer. I’ve come to realize that by escaping our pain, we are only burying a problem that will resurface again later. Pain that is not dealt with correctly will grow to such a size that it has the ability to affect you for the rest of your life, even subconsciously. We need to find a reason to get us through that pain, a method of dealing with it intentionally. Though I’m no expert on this topic, I thought I would share a bit of a journey through pain with you.

Someone once said something to me that I did not want to hear. They admitted something they had not told me for many months. My body went through the initial physical phase of wanting to shut down, literally go to sleep. However, I was at work and that was not an option. So I sat. I couldn’t look at my phone. And the feelings strongly kicked in. What this person admitted was nothing even done intentionally to me, but even they had mentioned they hated having to tell me. I was angry, sad, depressed, everything all at once. And yet, in my head, as upset as I was and as much as part of me wanted to lash out, I also pulled myself back to notice the sincerity of what they were saying and realizing how bold it was of that person to tell me. They were willing to take whatever reaction I gave in order to tell me the truth. Even though the truth sucked, my mind kept reminding me of what they had just done. It’s not always easy to walk in someone else’s shoes when you’re the one in pain. But somehow, someway, it’s so important that we slow ourselves down to realize that perhaps the situation isn’t so easy on them either. Perhaps they regret it more than you hate hearing it. Perhaps they’re sharing it with you because of how awful they feel. Perhaps they are already so sorry that they’re willing to let you decide what the final outcome will be.

I could not escape the feelings I had for the next few hours of the day. I had no way out. Did it change the way people saw me? Absolutely. I was referred to as “the one who’s almost ready to cry.” My job had to come first. I am, after all, responsible for the little humans in my care. And though I could not bring myself to respond like normal to this person, I also knew that I would regret making that person feel any worse than I knew they probably did. It’s important to note that I did not want to respond plainly. I wanted them to feel my pain. But in my head I knew they already were prepared for how it would make me feel, and logically (not led by emotions), I knew I couldn’t make them feel worse. So I responded in the best way that I could to tell them that I was (or would be) ok.

Fast forward to the end of the day. My room was quiet. I was finally alone. I attempted to think of driving to release my thoughts, but my motivation for anything was depleted. Instead, I decided to put my head down on my desk and just feel and think. Just be in the moment, by myself, and let myself be. It took almost an hour, but it was exactly what I needed to do. I needed to let myself fade into myself. I needed to stop holding myself up and being strong for others. It’s ok to be weak. It’s ok to cry. It’s ok to acknowledge that what you feel absolutely sucks. But as I was thinking, it occurred to me where my thoughts were going, and like a lightbulb moment, I felt like I discovered a key to life. What I learned was this:

I was mad. I was angry. I was hurt. I was in pain. I was deeply saddened. I didn’t want to continue with my day. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I just wanted life to stop. I knew these things. I felt these things strongly. I acknowledged them and let myself feel them, but I had to know why. Why was I so angry? Why was I so sad? Why did this hurt me so much? Though it may seem like the answers to this were obvious, I didn’t allow myself to take my first answers. Instead, I dug really deep. (Again, keep in mind this took an hour of self-discovering misery with my head down on a desk, broken and alone to figure this out. It’s not an easy process, but it was worth it.)

What I discovered was more than what I thought I would find. Was the news pleasant? No. I hated every bit of what that person admitted to me. My idea of perfection towards that person was blemished and it sucked. I was angry about the choice they had made. I was angry that it took them so long to admit it to me. But underneath all of that was the realization that even though it was ok for me to feel how I was feeling, it was not ok for me to not realize my role in the whole situation. I don’t mean that in any way I had any part of the bad decision this person had made. I literally knew nothing about it whatsoever. What I mean is that when there were times that I had to admit things to this person, this person did not skip a beat in treating me any differently or loving me any less. In fact, if I had replayed the situation in my mind, this person barely even blinked an eye and constantly told me that the past is the past and it was ok. I expected this person to be mad at me, but they didn’t show it whatsoever. And it was the same situation where what I had done was nothing done intentionally to them either. It was just bad decisions that needed to be admitted. And for someone to love me and accept me through my dark past, how could I not do the same for them? After all, they did tell me. After all, they were prepared to accept any reaction that I gave. After all, they were leaving their fate in my hands.

As I thought about this, it didn’t make me feel a ton better. I mean, yes, it did a little. But I’m going to sound selfishly honest that even still, that did not help as much as it probably should have. So I kept my head down and continued to dig. And the final thing that hit me was this: I was mad at that person for making the decision they did when I knew what the right decision was. Yet, in the past, I had been – multiple times – guilty of the exact same thing. It hurt me in such a strong way because hearing what they had done caused me to relive what I had done as well. I began to beat myself up over it as people had in the past. I began to tell myself that I deserved what this person had done even though it was never done intentionally to me in the first place. No wonder I wasn’t feeling better because I was bringing myself down over the situation more than the situation even called for! That person wasn’t meaning to hurt me, yet I was hurting myself. It’s sometimes amazing (good and bad) how our brain connects things. It’s like our past is stored in our brain, waiting to be brought out by any similar situation we experience. So many times we can think of personal stories that relate to situations we hear of, even if it’s not to the same magnitude. Sometimes, we think a lot of ourselves whether we mean to or not.

At that moment, I had to stop myself. I was mad at this person for doing the right thing of telling me the truth (which, partially, rightfully so) when in reality, I was the one beating myself up and hurting myself the most. That person wasn’t my true enemy, I was. After calling myself out on what I was doing, I realized that no, I did NOT deserve this. No, I did not deserve to be hurt. No, I did not always make the best decisions in my past, but I did not deserve to have those decisions put on me again to punish me for what I had done. No, I did not deserve to hear this bad news or to even have it exist. And as weird as this may sound, those thoughts were the most freeing thoughts that finally started to break the anger. The truth is, I couldn’t stop the hurt. The truth sucked no matter how you look at it. Bad news is just bad news. I didn’t have to be completely happy. But I did need to realize that it was ok for me to be sad and angry WITHOUT having to deserve to feel that way. I did need to realize that this person did not DESERVE for me to make them feel worse when they already regretted what they had done. This person was hurting because they knew they had hurt me, and as much as it bothered me, I knew this person cared so much that their pain was most likely equal to mine because I knew this person understood.

I feel like this is kind of a difficult thing to explain without being able to experience it with you. But it was the thoughts, the realizations that made this better. When all of these things finally trickled down and started to make sense, I knew I had to get it out. Hence, here I am. I feel like sometimes, we are so good at reacting and hiding how we actually feel that we forget to actually tell ourselves that it’s ok to feel how we feel, and we forget to take time for ourselves so that we can actually learn to swim through those dark thoughts and emotions. We don’t have to hide but we do need to understand and choose what to do. It’s ok for things to take time and it’s often better if they do.

Later on, I met up with this person. I’m a very facial-reacting person. It was obvious by the look of my eyes that I had been hurt badly and had been crying. I couldn’t hide that. But with the resolve in my heart to respect this person for admitting things to me, and with love in my heart for knowing that this person was probably crying about the situation too, I determined to try to smile and tell them it was ok. Was it easy? Not really. I still was sad. I still was hurt. We hugged. We cried. But at that moment, I knew it was ok to hurt together, because that also meant that we could heal together. We both had to experience the pain. We both had to support each other as much as we could. We both had to decide that we were going to get through it together, and that’s the beautiful part. As much as the hard days are hard, the healing process is like nothing in this world. When two people, whether friends, family members, or especially as a couple, when two people are able to take a situation and deal with it united, together, unwilling to let the other suffer alone, magical things happen. The healing that takes place grows a stronger bond than was there before. The love grows deeper. The appreciation is stronger. Though it takes time, it’s a process worth pursuing.

Two items came to mind as I was reflecting over this healing process. One being broken bones. I have been told that bones heal stronger after they are broken (for healthy individuals of course). This amazed me. But if we think that the bone knows what broke it the first time and is then preparing to be stronger for the next time it happens, it’s easy to see how this analogy applies to this situation. When two people are broken over something that happens and they are able to successfully go through the healing process, it is unlikely that same event will happen again and if it does (so long as it’s not stupidity repeating itself), you will be a stronger unit to confront it together.

The second being Kintsugi pottery. This is pottery that has been broken, but has been sealed back together with gold. The cracks are referred to as the scars, and the scars are nothing short of beautiful gold. Being broken hurts more than anything. I would take physical pain over emotional pain any day. But that healing process of being put take together, making a bond that was stronger than before, is as beautiful, as valuable as the gold that holds the Kintsugi pottery together.

This was a long post. I applaud you for making it here. It is my greatest hope that somehow these words may have helped you in some way. It is my hope that you will understand that we don’t have to fight this world alone. We are all here, living in this spherical space together. May we strive to be there for each other. May we learn that our feelings are ok, but it’s our thoughts that we need to keep in check. May we remember to slow down before reacting and may we never stop seeking to know ourselves better. We can make it through everything that comes our way. God has designed us to be strong people. Even when we feel like we can’t make it all alone, He is still there with you. He will never pull His love from you. You are loved my friends. I am praying for you!

Why God?

I wish I could accurately describe what my life has been like the past while. However, no matter how hard I try, I cannot come up with a truly accurate description. The best I can do is tell you that … Continue reading

National Sandwich Day – Healing Journey Day 55

Journal:
Today is National Sandwich Day and I had planned this day to be a sandwich day to see how my body would react to introducing bread. I woke up still not feeling 100% and needing to run to the washroom again. However,it was my hope that the bread would also help with this issue while I was at work. It would either be a success, or a completely bad judgment call. Only time would tell.

Early in the morning, I showered, got ready, and left early. I went and got gas so I wouldn’t have to do it in the evening, and then I hit Subway for their BOGO deal. I got two simple veggie subs on Italian bread (the only vegan bread). For sauces I got mustard and sweet onion sauce. And as for veggies? I got all the fresh veggies with the exception of jalapeño peppers as I didn’t need to put my body through that today.

What was my instant reaction after eating one for breakfast? Blah… not energizing, not “fulfilling”, just blah… I really was hoping this wouldn’t spell doom for the rest of the day.

By snack time, I was hungry again. So I pulled out the other sub and ate half. At lunch, I finished the sub. It amazed me how “empty” my stomach could feel while also feeling so not great. The caloric density of bread is not making up for the normal volume of fruit and veggies I normally eat. I also began to notice how dehydrated my body was beginning to feel.

When the afternoon hit, I was hungry again. I didn’t have any more “sandwiches” with me, but I did have a packet of savoury oatmeal, so I quickly whipped that up and ate it. I actually had never had savoury oatmeal before. Growing up, my favourite oatmeal included lots of brown sugar and dates. I always found that the dates tasted exactly like candy when cooked in oatmeal, so the thought of a savoury oatmeal did not really entice me. However, trying this Masala-flavoured oatmeal allowed me to quickly fall in love; it was so good!

Now, by the end of the afternoon, my stomach was in an all-right outcry. It already had not been feeling good throughout the day, but I knew it was not good. I had not been successful in my plan of trying to use bread to stop the bathroom issues and that did not work at all. In fact, I think the bread made it worse and my stomach more painful. So this plan was as good as failed.

After work, I drove to a place called Press’d to get another BOGO deal for sandwich day. I ordered two sandwiches called the Beatnik. The original recipe includes ranch dressing and swiss cheese, so I just took those off the sandwich and replaced them with avocado. I then brought them home and put my own sauces on them that I had in the fridge. It was much easier to control what they were putting on my sandwiches this way.

By the time I had eaten both sandwiches, I felt like I was so over-salted in my body, so dehydrated, stomach cramping badly, and just tired and terrible. Oh man… this sandwich day has been awful. I honestly am looking forward to going back to eating raw tomorrow. My body is so unhappy. I’m actually beginning to wonder if I’m truly digesting the food properly or not. I didn’t even go to the gym again tonight because I’m still scared of being away from the bathroom for too long. I want my health back!

Review of Symptoms:
-Stomach is bloated.
-Acne is terrible.
-Tired.
-I can feel the excess salt in my system.
-Still running to the washroom throughout the day.
-Not digesting food properly.
-Craving raw food and water.
-Pulled a groin-area muscle while playing soccer on the frosted grass with students today. Ugh…

Weight at the end of the day = 168.6 lbs (up 3 days from yesterday thanks to bread… ugh…)

Total Calories = 2691 (75% carbs, 12% fat, 13% protein)

Multi-Juice Feasting – Healing Journey Day 24

Journal:
Today was a much needed juice day. I was almost in shock when I saw how much my weight went up in one day. 8 lbs! The thing is, I’m not totally surprised. The food I ate yesterday does not digest as well as plain fruit does. It takes much longer to go through the system. The food yesterday also contained salt which causes water retention. I also ate a lot of fat which I try to avoid. I also know that I ate an incredible amount of calories yesterday of which my body is not used to consuming yet. So a lot of factors have played into those 8 lbs. But like I mentioned on Saturday, a juice feast is the perfect way to help your body start flushing things out. I felt much better juice feasting today.

From morning to lunch, I finished drinking the half litre I had left of grape juice from last time. After lunch and until supper time, I drank about a litre of pineapple juice with the pulp mixed in. My tastebuds were handling the juice a lot better today which is somewhat surprising. The only guess I have is that all the food from yesterday dulled my tastebuds a little bit so things aren’t so sweet today. Or, my other thought is that after my lack of sweet things yesterday, my body was appreciating the sweetness of fruit today. Both ideas seem to make sense to me but since I’m not a doctor, I cannot truly be sure.

Work went by fairly well. It wasn’t the greatest day, but it also wasn’t the worst. Again, I always hope for tomorrow to be a better day.

After work, I actually was very productive. I had a HUGE to-do list and knocked off quite a few things. Though I didn’t get everything done, it certainly felt good to see about half of that list disappear. I’m hoping to conquer the rest tomorrow.

I did drink 1.75 L of apple juice throughout the rest of the evening. Honestly, juice feasting is easy. I’m feeling good. I went to the gym and did 5 ab exercises followed with a half hour of cycling. It felt good. But I am totally done in for the night. I officially have one more juice day to go and then I enter smoothie land!

Review of Symptoms:
-Acne is the same.
-Energy is good.
-Hair is greasy… thank you high fat, cooked foods…
-Elimination is great.

Weight at the end of the day = 176.6 lbs (down 6 lbs from yesterday, thank you to good digestion!)

Total Calories = 1908 (97% carbs, 0% fat, 3% protein)

God Doesn’t Give Us More Than We Can Handle… Except, He Does

If you’re anything like me, you’ve heard the same things I’ve had, time and time again. The phrase goes like this, “God doesn’t give us more than we can handle.” However, the Bible doesn’t say that.

The verse is 1 Corinthians 10:13 and it says (NLT):

The temptations in your life are no different from what others experience. And God is faithful. He will not allow the temptation to be more than you can stand. When you are tempted, He will show you a way out so that you can endure.

It doesn’t say we won’t be given more than we can handle, but we won’t be tempted more than we can handle. It’s a bit of a change in words.

I actually like to know that God may give me more situations than I can handle, but before you freak out on me, here’s why.

If I knew that I could handle everything in life, I wouldn’t need God. If I could solve all of my own problems and deliver myself from evil, I wouldn’t need God. If I could walk around loud and proud because I knew I could conquer anything, I wouldn’t need God. I would be easily self-sufficient. But that’s not the case.

Because I’m given more than I can handle, I fall to my knees in prayer. Because I’m given more than I can handle, I seek God to come and rescue me, to save me, and to surround me in love. Because I’m given more than I can handle, I remember to thank the LORD for everything He has ever done for me and continues to do for me. Because I’m given more than I can handle, I know through the tears that it won’t be me saving myself, but it will be my God who will be my strength and my endurance to bring me through whatever situation it is.

prayer1

It takes me back to the picture/poem of Footprints. Where two pairs of footprints started, eventually one pair of footprints wanders alone. When the person asks God why He left him alone, God replies that He did not leave him alone, instead He carried him part of the way.

footprints

If we weren’t given more than we could handle, there would always be two sets of footprints, and potentially only one as we slowly forget that we need God in life. But instead, we have an amazing God who does allow us to be burdened with more than we can handle so that we remember that it is only through Him that we conquer what we do. It is only God who can deliver us from everything we get immersed in. It is only God who can handle everything we’ve been given.

prayer

And knowing all this, this verse means so much more. I hope it does for you too.

If you have any other views of this verse, or have a story of how much this verse means to you, I’d love to hear it. Leave it in the comments below!

Why the Name “Christian” Can Cause Such Anger

I’ve delayed in writing this blog post. The past few days have been a whirlwind for me. Not because I’m cleaning up my classroom, preparing for a new grade, but because the world has changed ever so quickly, and I needed to make sure my own emotions were not mixing and leading my thoughts but that rather my beliefs were the driving force behind my words.

When I decided I wanted to turn vegan, I thought what better place to learn than to join vegan groups on Facebook where people are continuously discussing ways of doing things better and on improving lifestyles. What better place would you get a mix of people who are starting out in their vegan adventure, as well as though who are tried and true veterans to the lifestyle. I did enjoy these facts, but I wasn’t prepared for what was coming.

As many of you know (and if you didn’t, I don’t know how you could have missed it), but the states have just legalized same sex marriage. To some people it’s no surprise, to some people it’s a reason to lash out, and to some people it’s a reason to celebrate. I was prepared for those reactions. What I wasn’t prepared for was the anger backing people’s responses. And it took a few days for me to truly understand what was going on.

Unfortunately, one of my vegan groups posted about this legalization and stated that you will never find a “homophobe vegan”. A man simply stated (though not in words I would have used) that he was not a “phobe” by the meaning of the word “phobia” as in being scared. He simply was using Biblical pieces to back-up the point that he did not support the movement. The backlash he received was incredible. And as I noticed he was the only one defending his beliefs, I decided to try and approach the conversation in a loving but understanding way. You see, I’ve noticed people are very quick to criticize Christian beliefs as being old and not modern day. But I knew that this is often because Christians have made a bad name for themselves.

I once saw a conversation where Christians were attacking an atheist. I could see where her comments and attacks were coming from. I couldn’t stand Christians reacting in this kind of way so I entered the conversation as well and simply responded to her questions and comments in a loving, non-judgemental way. It took quite awhile, but believe it or not, she thanked me for talking to her the way I did and explaining things the way I had. Of course she assured me she wouldn’t become Christian anytime soon, but that wasn’t the point of my discussion. The basis of my discussion was love.

So I figured that maybe if love was presented the right way in this vegan conversation, then maybe the hatred I was seeing would dissipate and the group could go back to the original purpose of becoming vegan and standing for animal rights. However, I’m sad to say it did not work that way. No matter how many times I reassured that none of the Christians in the conversation weren’t hating them nor judging them (all 2 of us), they served critique after critique back. No matter how many times I assured them that Christians should be focused on loving and loving all people, hate was served back. No matter how much love I tried to show about loving people but not supporting decisions they make, I was not supported. I even told them that the God of the world, Himself, has given us the power to choose what we do, regardless if we choose sin or not, and thus everyone in the world should have the power to choose what they want without anybody telling them otherwise, I was still considered judgemental. I brought up how I have a great uncle who has been a married gay my whole life and how I love him dearly and will never treat him otherwise, but that I do not support his lifestyle, I was still considered a “homophobe”. I was called a jerk, ingenious, told to take a nap, told I have mental sickness, that somehow someone loved me but in the same sentence told me everything I am is a sin, that God was going to send me to hell to burn for eternity, etc. And I was reminded again and again how listening to a 2000 year old book is so wrong.

I was not prepared for the hardness of hearts I was presented with. This is why I did not write this blog when I first thought of it. In fact, it’s been sitting as a tab for the past however many days since the law was passed. I’ve changed the name 3 times. I needed time to sort through what was going on, and to make sure my emotions were in check. And now I think I’m ready to help explain where I think things have gone wrong.

There happens to be a girl many years younger than I who was feeling the same way I was – being attacked by so many people, being pushed with no rest, exhausted from having to defend herself. The message came clearly in her Facebook post and the response from someone questioning the selection of beliefs, specifically pertaining to the lack of support on the same sex marriage issue.

I really thought about it before I posted this time, and I provided a very prominent issue among different Christians about the “clean” and “unclean” foods. I stated it as the fact that many Christians don’t support eating pork. Some claim that because it is an Old Testament law, that we no longer have to follow that distinction. Although many Christians disagree on this issue, we don’t hate our own family members just because they eat differently than ourselves. The best way to influence anyone in a positive way is through a loving manner. I also added that I grew up as a hunter’s daughter. When I turned vegetarian, my grandfather was convinced I would die. In fact, for the almost 10 years I was vegetarian, the very first question he would ask me is if I was healthy and had gone back to eating meat yet. The amount he would try to sneak meat onto my plate was crazy. He did not support my eating habits whatsoever. But he never stopped loving me. In fact, I can’t recall a day in my life where I did not feel loved by my grandfather, and that’s the way it should be.

To go a little further than that, she said she was going to put it bluntly and ask how same sex relationships is one law we believe from the Old Testament, but there were a host of others such as wearing jewelry, having tattoos, and premarital sex were things most Christians don’t follow anymore, yet we can choose to not stand for the same sex marriage issue.

This is where it truly sank in. The reason I believe that most people are so angry with Christians and our beliefs is because we have compromised on so much! Seriously, look around at your churches. I know for a fact that people drink, do drugs, party, have non-marrital sex with people regardless of being married or not, have problems with pornography, steal, cheat people out of money, etc, etc… There are people in almost every church who are the kings and queens of gossip. Churches are seen as judgemental because they’ve become that way. What have we done to ourselves?

Now, I’m not saying that all churches or even all people are this way. I do believe we have the sweetest, loving Christians still on this earth, and unfortunately that’s something we desperately need more of. But when Christians in themselves are out in the world claiming to be Christian and yet are caught in such horrible acts, what else is the world to think of us? Can you really blame people for hosting anger when they grew up in a church but like my sister, left because people were judging the clothing she wore? Do you really think that made her feel at home rather than winning her over with love? Personally, I’m ashamed at some of the things we’ve done to people. We should be opening our doors and welcoming, not just greeting, but truly welcoming people into our midst with the goal of letting love take over. When Jesus saved the prostitute, or sat with the tax collectors, you don’t see Him attacking them. He loved them and that’s what created the difference. Why can’t we do the same?

Of course I’m not saying we should kick out all of the people who are having problems either. What better place to receive help with healing than a church family, as long as we are being just that – a loving and supportive family.

Now, I know my beliefs may differ from yours, and that’s ok. Like I said, I have no judgement. The Bible, unfortunately, is not the most easily understood book at times, and some is left to our interpretation though hopefully somewhat unfolded with divine help (always pray before reading the Bible!). So yes, topics like jewelry and tattoos are a little more difficult to defend for some. However, I know the Bible clearly points out that our bodies are the living temples for the Holy Spirit, and we are to take care of them to the best of our abilities. Putting needles unnecessarily into my body, causing a stain that God did not put there in the first place that is ridiculous to remove, and putting holes all over my body does not seem like preserving the “holy temple” as God stated it. To me, that is clear enough definition as to why those are not the best idea. Jewelry that does not require holes (such as necklaces, rings, and bracelets) are a little more in the grey area. However, if you look at history, you will see that only the rich, and those who placed themselves above others wore jewelry. So at the time, it made total sense that jewelry was a way to separate the classes of people, and as far as I’ve read in my Bible, God doesn’t view us that way, nor does He want us to develop an attitude of being better than others. So to me, that makes sense. When it comes to premarital sex, it’s a no-brainer to me. You don’t need a Bible to tell you it’s not the best idea. Look up science reports and the reactions in the brain with sex. Look up psychology reports. The more sex you have before marriage, the less you are bringing to your marriage. Imagine if everything was brand new coming into your marriage. No past relationships to discuss, no past comparisons to make, nothing bad to bring into your forever relationship. I think in a way, we’ve lost sight of how sacred and special marriage was supposed to be. It was a union, a joining of two people. And in Mark 10:9, it states clearly, “Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate.” We say vows, vows that are actually supposed to mean something. God blessed the union between husband and wife and specifically said that NO MAN (that means nobody on this earth) should be able to separate that union. I don’t know about you, but there are an awful lot of divorces going on. A lot of “man” separating what God told us not to. And that’s in the New Testament, not even the old.

Again, I hope you are not taking offence to this. I am the product of a divorced family who married other divorced people. Divorce is around me, and although I love my family more dearly than anything, I will fight with all I have to preserve my marriage union because I believe that is what is right. (I may continue this conversation at another time. It’s a whole separate Bible study.)

So those are my thoughts. I’m not sure if Christians will ever recover. If we’re going to stand for our beliefs, we need to learn not to compromise. No, it’s not easy being criticized. If anything, becoming vegan has opened my eyes to a whole new way of being criticized (not enough protein, not losing weight fast enough, not going to be healthy, etc…). But if you truly believe in something and seek to receive the rewards at the end, then you need to stand for whatever it is. But remember to stand in a loving way. Hate is fuel to the fire, but love (usually) softens the hardest of hearts. So speak to and treat each other in love, regardless of what a person chooses, but stay strong to yourself and don’t compromise on the beliefs you hold. Nobody in this world has the right to force their beliefs on people. But rather, keep an open ear and seek to find the Truth, and once you have the Truth, hold on to it. As humans, we are master justifiers, master liars, and master convincers. Don’t let someone talk you out of being yourself and believing what you’ve sought to be true.

For another pastor’s perspective, I found this to be a good, well-written, loving read with Biblical back-up.
http://todaychristian.net/a-detailed-explanation-of-why-christians-dont-accept-gay-marriage/

It’s So Easy When You Feel God Around You… But What About When You Don’t?

I just got back from a large trip with my students. They are in the school’s choir, and we just completed a Fine Arts Trip where we put on three performances. Our students are actually very talented, and were given admiration left and right. Our kids truly are blessed.

But as I was sitting watching this heavenly-voiced choir of my students, and thinking about how perfect and wonderful they sound and are representing their God on stage in front of so many people, a thought struck me that I hadn’t really processed before: When you feel like you are in the presence of God, it is so easy to “behave”… to be “good”. But when my students and other people in the world leave a place where you can undeniably feel God’s presence, and you walk into the world of sin that is so easily seen around you, it all of a sudden becomes way too easy to “misbehave” or to be “bad”.

Why is this? Why can my students, or people in general, be so respectful and so Christ-like in a church or when performing in the name of Christ to hopefully show others the deepest love of all, and yet be so different when they leave that setting? What is it about the world that is so “pulling” on us in the wrong direction? What is it about being at church or in a Christ-promoting atmosphere that makes it so easy for us to do what we know is right?

I wish so much people were able to freeze the moment: freeze the feelings and the thoughts at the time when they were so easily attained and hold onto them when the rest of life comes in. Why aren’t we capable of doing this? Even when I was younger, I can remember going to spiritual retreats and feeling so connected with God. Yet, a few weeks pass and I feel that connection fading. Why is this? Why can’t we be on a “spiritual high” all the time?

I hope my students, and all people of the world, will notice this difference as I have. I hope they will take more seriously and hold on more dearly to those quickly fleeting moments. If we choose to surround ourselves with the biggest influences all the time, maybe we could live our lives a little louder.

What do you guys think? Leave a comment below.

When I Realized My Grandfather Really Wasn’t Coming Back

Something happened today that really jarred my memory and brought me to write this post. I saw the following picture on Facebook and it got me thinking about my grandfather.

cry

It took me right back to the moments where I can remember thinking about him and instantly started crying. Even now writing this, I can feel the water filling up in my eyes. I know many of you will say that you have/had an awesome grandfather to, but I’d like to take a minute to tell you about mine, and how special he truly was.

I guess it starts when my mother became pregnant with me. My parents were not married. I guess my grandfather liked my dad, but he was very upset about the whole situation and didn’t talk to my mother for days. However, being the man that he was, he still bought her a crib and everything she would need for me, even though he wasn’t talking to her. He was always that way, taking care of things even when he was upset.

Of course, as soon as I was born, he was completely smitten. My mother is a child of two, but lived very much a single child’s life. She never met her brother as he died on a surgery table a few months after he was born. That meant, I was the first and only grandchild.

My parents didn’t stay together very long. They did get married after I was born, but separated when I was about 4, officially divorcing when I was around 5. Where do you think we went back to? My grandparents. In fact, their home was very much “home base” my entire life.

My grandfather always spoiled me (and later my other siblings). I have pictures where my toys barely fit in the picture with me. My father told me that I would get tired of opening gifts because there were simply so many. I had this 6″+ man wrapped around my tiny finger. There’s no denying he loved me.

My grandfather was a used car salesman. In fact, it was my mother’s company that he worked for her since she dropped out of college to be home with me. The company was even named after my sister and I. But eventually he took over the company and changed its name since he did become the only one running the business.

I used to love visiting him at his office. My grandmother and I would get lunches for him, he would let me sit in his office chair, I would be called his “Number 1 Dudette”, and I loved the fact that everywhere we went, people always knew and respected my grandfather, and thus treated me as if I was a special person. I had never met anyone who didn’t know or like my grandfather.

If you could imagine the biggest realistic playground in the world, that would be my grandfather’s car lot. He gave me access to all the keys and vehicles in his lot. I can still remember the amount of fun we had pretending to drive the cars, and especially in exploring the only RV I remember him having. Only once did he ask me to backup a truck into a corner spot. My mother sat in the passenger seat with me, and I remember learning really quick to use my mirrors. I was so scared I would mess up his vehicles in this tight spot. But I did it! I still can’t believe he trusted me…

If I could compare him to anything, it would very much be the godfather. I’m not joking when I say that everyone seemed to know who he was. He was an amazing man when he was happy, but he was always a man you feared when he was unhappy. I don’t remember him every getting mad at me, but it was a general rule that when he came home, the remote control to the television had to be in the right spot for him to lay on the couch and watch what he wanted. He became upset if the remote went missing. There were just certain things you knew not to do.

Sometimes, my grandmother and him would fight. I’m sure there’s not a couple in the world who has not at least had one argument. Sometimes, or maybe more than sometimes, this meant he would stay at his office for the night. It was a conveniently built, small building that contained 3 rooms and a tiny hallway. One room was “the office”. The second room was of course a washroom. And the third room was his bedroom. It contained only a tv, a bed, and a mini fridge. It pretty much had everything he needed if he needed a night away. So it was a fairly normal occurrence for him not to come home sometimes.

The best thing about my grandfather was that he was always there for us. There was a time when we didn’t have the most money, and work was slow. My grandfather always provided what we needed, and then some. Most of you know that I have moved like 20 times with my family, not including on my own. The one person who was always there, regardless of where we were, was my grandfather. He never missed an opportunity to come and stay with us. (Of course I should say my grandmother always came with him as well, but I will dedicate a post to her another day.) He was honestly one of the biggest constants in my life.

When my family made the official decision to move from the east coast to the west coast, my grandparents offered to bring my sister and I out at the end of summer so that we could spend the extra time with our father. It was a fair bit of a long drive, but even then my grandfather trusted me with reading the map (before GPS systems). I almost think his belief in me helped me grow to the independent woman I am today. I have a lot to credit him for.

They stayed with us at our new place for a few days. Early in the morning, him and I would get up and drive to a hotel or another homey restaurant to eat. He was not a chain-restaurant type of person. Even back in the town he worked, he had one particular restaurant he preferred to eat at, and everybody knew his specials and what he enjoyed eating. He always preferred the homestyle cooking. In fact, he met my grandmother while she was waitressing at such a type of restaurant. My family and I have visited that restaurant a few times and imagined what it must have been like. They still have the juke boxes and the old stools. Sometimes it’s nice to preserve history rather than to embrace change.

We then took a trip to the “big city” so my grandparents could see it before they left. We had a lot of fun. At one point, we lost my grandfather in the big mall. I’ll never forget him driving around on those motorized scooters for people who can’t walk well. He had even gotten an orange smoothie and I guess spilled it all over the machine. If you knew my grandfather like I did, you would picture him using colourful language for the time he was mad, then acting like nothing ever happened.

I don’t remember how we ever found him, but I can tell you it was one of the hardest good-byes of my life.This wasn’t just moving a few hours away, this was a four day drive across the country. Of course they would come visit again, but the visits would never be as frequent as before. What I didn’t know was that my tears would get worse before they ever got better.

Literally two or three days after we returned to our new home, I got a call from my grandmother. It sounded like her for sure, but something was a little different. She asked to speak to my mom pretty much right away, so I gave my mom the phone and sat on the landing of the stairs. My mother took the phone into her room which was at the top of the stairs. The next words I heard told me pretty much everything I didn’t want to hear. She said, as she began crying, “Oh Mom!”.

My grandparents had been involved in a car accident on their journey home. An impatient driver went in their lane to pass a semi-truck and didn’t see my grandparents van coming at them. My grandmother was in the hospital, a little bruised but otherwise ok (she would later need nose surgery to correct the alignment). My grandparents’ friend who was helping them drive home had so many broken bones, including ribs and shoulder, and would also need counselling for what happened (he was driving at the time – completely not his fault). But my grandfather didn’t make it.The speed they were traveling on the highway, and the impact of a completely head-on hit left the vehicle in shambles and took my grandfather with it.

Immediately, we packed and drove back to the city. I thankfully had a great aunt and uncle who lived just outside the limits and welcomingly invited us in until we could all make arrangements to fly home. My mother was able to fly right away to be with my grandmother, but there were 4 more of us to fly, and we had to wait for a cheaper ticket to afford it.

It was so strange when I got home. Being in my grandparents house seemed so normal. I mean, I was only at my “new home” for less than a week. I had no attachments to it and didn’t even have to act like it was supposed to be my new home. I had come home and it felt like life should be normal again.

I know I cried a few times, but I remember just having the attitude and thoughts of “My grandfather is just at his office, staying the night like he usually does. Sometime he’ll come home.”

I still remember it as clear as yesterday: My mother and I were sitting in the living room, on separate couches, not talking much as we didn’t for a while, and her saying the exact same thing that I felt – that Grampy was just at his office and sometime he would come home. And it hit us right then that we had to realize it was wasn’t true, that Grampy really wasn’t coming back. I broke down (just like I am again now) because he was always there, for everything! How could he not come back this time! How could the one stable thing in my life not come back! It was so hard to accept.

Sitting in his house, seeing all of his old stuff, going to his office, it was all so hard to do when you realize the person who has always been there for you, the person who has loved you your whole life was suddenly gone. My nickname would never be used again, except when telling stories of him. My promise from him of giving me my first car would never come true. My life was drastically left with an empty hole that I’m not sure was ever filled again. Nobody could take his place, and I could never have been prepared for that instant change in time.

Life is not fair, and it never will be. The devil is waiting for any opportunity to attack and make a mess of things. He knows which strings to pull and he knows how to make things hurt you more than anyone else. He knows he can damage us and take away everything that means the world to us, which is why it’s so important to turn to God when you’re hurting, to let Him hold you and tell you that everything is going to be ok, because one day, it will. One day, when Jesus returns and we are taken to Heaven with Him, there will not be anymore pain, there will not be anymore death, there will not be anymore tears. I don’t know what my grandfather’s relationship with Christ was like. I know he sort of had a falling out at one point, but he insisted my mom make sure she took us to church. So I only hope and pray that he had a good relationship with God, because it would be so nice to run into those loving arms I miss so dearly, the loving arms that were missing during both of my graduations and my wedding, the loving arms that were taken away from me way too soon.

I miss this man more than anything, and truly just thinking of how much I miss him brings me to tears almost instantly. Hold your loved ones close and make sure you let them know how important they are to you. You never know which instant will take them away.

The Most Emotional Spring Break

Wow. Where do I even begin…

This year I was actually looking forward to my Spring Break (for the first time since I’ve started teaching). I had the new passion planner my parents got me, I booked my days full of cleaning and catching up on life… and grading too.

On Friday, the very first thing that happened was my washing machine broke. I had so much laundry to catch-up on, but that was going to have to wait. Not a good beginning sign…

The next few days went rather well. Starting Monday, I found myself sticking to my schedules I had created, and conquering so much of the work that had been put off for way too long. I cleaned my basement, my kitchen, my entry, my stairs, my bedroom, part of my office, most of my bathroom, and even categorized some items I have to sell! It was so productive. And yes, I got quite a bit of grading done as well. I even spent excess time with my dogs and my skinny pig. I was so happy.

First, I got news that my sister was pregnant. Normally, this would be exciting news, except my sister’s life has been very rocky the last few years. She was currently with a not-so-good boyfriend, a not-so-good job, and renting a bedroom from a house – definitely not a place or situation to raise a child! She also has not had healthcare for years, and is not consistent with taking care of herself – not good for the baby, let alone her!

This turned into a very rocky situation of my step-father taking her to his hotel with him, her leaving behind his back, him buying her a plane ticket and her never returning to the hotel like she said she would. It turned into many phone calls, texts, and Facebook messages, few and far between responses from my sister, and potentially very bad situations that I cannot elaborate on at this time. What resulted of the situation was that my sister promised to be back in time for our day together on Friday which never happened. My step-father ended up picking her up on Sunday, keeping her with him Sunday night, and flying out with her on Monday. I was worried she would even refuse to get on the plane, but for some reason, she did it. Now she is home with my family who will help her get back on her feet and hopefully be able to handle her emotions at this time. It’s going to be a long road for her.

Amidst those difficulties, worrying and stress, my skinny pig died. After having an awesome week, being able to spend all that extra time with him, we noticed he was acting strange on Friday morning. So we went to the pet store, bought liquid vitamins to put in his water, and by the time we came home, he was dead. Mind you, he was at least 4 years old, if not more than that. So for a skinny/guinea pig, he was in the upper range of their age. It is just incredibly sad that he has been with us for 4 years and we have bonded with him so much. Our little guy’s passing was incredibly hard to take amidst everything else on this break.

As the title of this blog speaks, this was probably the most emotional Spring Break I’ve ever had. I hope it’s the last one like this I ever have. But from here, we can only move on and hope for better.

I Hope One Day My Students Understand

It has been such an emotional week for me this week. After an incident that occurred last week, the decision was brought down from Academic Standards Committee as to what would occur as punitive and redemptive actions in this situation. Of course, I had to write the e-mail, and then answer the questions that later ensued as to what had actually occurred as well as the details of the final decision.

So far, parents have seemed understanding and supportive. It’s the students that I worry about the most.

I hope one day my students understand
The reasons why I had to do what I did
The amount of punishment I suffered with them
The fact that I wanted to erase the event and the consequences with it
The reasons why I couldn’t
The reasons why I had to follow through even when I didn’t want to
The reasons why I can seem so harsh
Only because I want them to see their own potential
I hope one day my students understand
How much I cared and wanted them to succeed
The tears I’ve cried and the time I’ve spent
The lasting effects of memories
I hope one day my students understand
That I tried to do the best I could
A year is short in the grand scheme of life
There is no time to waste
I have to do what I can each day
Even if it means correcting mistakes
I hope one day my students understand
That it wasn’t just to “get them in trouble”
My care is genuine, much deeper than that
I hope one day they’ll see it.

To any other teachers reading this blog: Do you ever feel this way? I’m finding truth in the fact that it’s usually the more difficult students, the ones you spend so much time trying to “fix” or “correct” that grow on you the most. Since I have no children of my own, these students essentially are my children. And I think that just makes it worse when things go wrong.

I know I’ll get through this, it’s just another bump in the road. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t hard. It’s so hard not to reach out and want to take all of their pain and hardships away. It’s hard to watch them learn the difficulties of life. But you have to, or they’ll never learn the difference between what is right and wrong. And so it is my prayer each night, that no matter what happens, they’ll someday understand and see how much I care. I hope one day my students will understand…