We Were Never Meant To Live Like This

 We were never meant to live like this

 

We are meant to be living in a village

In a close-knit community

Surrounded by our parents and siblings

Our aunts and uncles

Our cousins and grandparents

And the friends who love us like family

Greeting the day together

Caring for the children together

Completing the daily tasks together

Sharing stories and meals and laughter and tears together

 

We are meant to be living in a village

Where every person we run into

Calls us by our name

And remembers the day we were born

And knows how to make us laugh

And offers us a hug when they find us crying

 

We are meant to be living in a village

Where each person fills a role

Where each member belongs and contributes

In small ways and big ways

That are valued and honored and celebrated

 

We are meant to be living in a village

Where we have elders to share their wisdom

Healers to mend our wounds

Hunters to keep our bellies full

Makers to keep us clothed and dry

Warriors to protect us

And nurturers to care for our hearts

 

We are meant to be living in a village

Where every need is provided for

Regardless of who we are

Young or old

Strong or weak

Wise or foolish

Because we belong in this village nonetheless

And everyone is cared for in the village

 

We were never meant to live like this

We aren’t supposed to be so alone

To be so independent

To be so ambivalent to the needs of our neighbors

We aren’t meant to have to struggle through life

We aren’t meant to figure out how to make it work

We aren’t meant to do it all ourselves

We aren’t meant to pull ourselves up by our own bootstraps

We aren’t meant to have to guess whether we are getting it right

Or screwing everything up

 

There is supposed to be a village

There is supposed to be a whole group of people

Who care for you as they care for their own selves

There is supposed to a village of people 

To guide you

To teach you, 

To encourage you,

To make sure that you are going to be fine

 

We were never meant to live like this

No wonder it’s so damn hard

As She Worships

As we watch everything around us

Breaking, crumbling, and burning to the ground

We cry for our Mother

Fear for her

Weep for her

And grieve what we believe we are losing

What we do not understand

Is that Mother is not the one

To be grieved for

The imminent death is our own

Mother looks upon us

As we steadily destroy ourselves

More quickly now than ever

She watches as she has watched

Every new age come and pass on again

She watches and waits

Until we inevitably end our own kind

Then, joyfully, she will wipe away

Every last trace of the ugliness

We scattered amongst ourselves

And carefully, thoroughly, perfectly

She will replace all of our filth

With her splendid and endless beauty

And our beautiful Mother

Will be pure again

As she worships and rejoices

In her celestial dance around the sun

How We Break Things

I was offered what I needed

And thankful for what I had

But then I began to fear

I began to doubt

I began to ruminate

On what could become of me

If what I was offered

Turned out to not be enough

As fear grew in my mind

It infected my heart

And trickled into my gut

Until all I could think, feel, and sense

Was my own impending doom

My imagined sense of need and want

And the possibility of deprivation

All of this anxiety overtook my rationality

And I reached out to take more

More than I could hold

More than I could ingest

More than I could ever need

Because what if someday

At some point

I didn’t have enough

As I sat among my treasure

My newly acquired belongings

My storehouse for the future

I felt content and safe and satiated

For a brief moment or two

But then I began to fear

I began to doubt

I began to ruminate

On what could happen to me

To my safety

To my contentment

To my evolving sense of self

If someone else had more

More belongings

More treasure

More keys to survival

More power

To possibly take what I had

I began to imagine what it would feel like

To meet another who had more than me

How puny I would feel

How helpless and weak

And vulnerable I could become

This fear grew in my mind

And quickly calcified in my heart

And started churning in my gut

Until all I could think, feel, and sense

Was my own growing desire and aching need

To be more than you

To possess more than you

To know more than you

And in every possible way

To dominate over you

Me over you

Became my mantra

My obsession

My every waking thought

  

A cancer that grew in my mind

And blackened my heart

And rotted my gut

Until all I could think, feel, and sense

Was me, me, me

And before I knew it

Everything surrounding me was broken

Everyone close to me was broken

Every cell inside of me was broken

Because I let fear become my truth

I let it consume me

Overtake me

And completely fill me

And this is how 

Everything became broken

Raising a daughter

I've started to cringe internally when strangers tell my daughter how pretty she is. I mean, she is pretty-- she's gorgeous! But I cringe because I don't want her to grow up believing that it matters if a stranger thinks she's pretty. I don't want her to believe anyone else when they tell her what the criteria are for her being pretty and staying pretty. And I don't want her to ever put so much thought and energy and time and money into trying to be pretty that it steals from the rest of her life.

This is what it means when a stranger tells you how pretty you are: you got a certain set of genes that our society approves of and you should be proud of that.

This is what it means when someone tells you how ugly you are or that you need to work on your appearance: you got a certain set of genes that aren't as popular and you should feel ashamed of that. Seriously. You should feel ashamed of the genetic makeup that you were born with.

How stupid is that?

If she ends up being hairy, she will believe that she is ugly. If she grows too tall, she will feel weird. If she has a big nose, she will think that she needs to wear makeup. If her skin is too fair, she will want to start tanning. If her hair is too straight, she will ask to get a perm.

And if she's paying any attention at all to the advertising and marketing that will start spewing these lies at her from childhood on, she's going to figure out that being fat is the same as being ugly. And a fat woman who is not hitting the gym and starving herself is doing a huge disservice to all the other people who have to look at her.

Unless I can figure out how to get through to her that she is a stellar human being just the way she is.

Unless I can figure out how to convince her that her heart and her mind are 100 times more crucial to her identity than what her body looks like.

Unless I can show her that our bodies are meant for accomplishing incredible things, not for looking incredibly perfect.

Unless I can model for her what it looks like for a woman to truly love herself and care for herself without any shame or embarrassment or punishment for having less than ideal looks.

Unless I can teach her how to be powerful and strong and bold enough to stand up against the millions of lies she's going to hear and see every day of her life.

Unless I pour so much truth into her life about who she is as a member of the human race that she can barely even hear the lies.

For the New Year

The last year and a half was a whole new kind of thing in life. I have my baby now, but holy cow did it take a lot of blood, sweat, and tears!

First there was a miscarriage as we began trying to make a baby. The overwhelming joy of finding out I was pregnant turned into heart-wrenching grief just a few days later.

Then, just a couple months later, there was a successful pregnancy that quickly turned into constant nausea that had me sitting on the bathroom floor crying most days.

Then the nausea subsided and was replaced with pain in my feet, my hips, and my back, making it hard for me to comfortably walk or sleep or sit or stand.

Then my 40 weeks of pregnancy stretched into 42 weeks with a finale of almost 50 hours of labor to try to deliver a 10.5 pound baby. After that much laboring, most of it with no drugs, I ended up having a cesarean which was painful enough that I asked the hospital to keep me an extra day when they tried to discharge me because I wasn't sure I'd be able to walk up the stairs to our apartment.

Five months later, I'm still wearing yoga pants, sweatpants, and maternity pants every day. My body still isn't comfortable yet; it's like I'm wearing someone else's body, and I feel a little surprised every time I see myself in the mirror.

So, the last year and a half, I haven't been very happy with the function or feeling of my body, and I'm ready to turn a new leaf.

My New Year's resolution is to do things that make my body feel good and loved and beautiful.

I'll start by reminding myself each day that my body is wonderful just the way it is, with the massive amount of stretch marks on my belly, the cesarean incision across my abdomen, and all the extra weight I'm still carrying. All of this is okay because without it I wouldn't have my baby.

Then I'll make it a priority to do loving things for my body like going for gentle walks so I can breath in the fresh air, taking hot baths so I can relax all the way for just a little while, and spending a few moments here and there stretching and breathing so my body can feel alive and refreshed in the midst of the busyness of raising a baby.

I'm also going to stop pressuring myself to fit into pre-pregnancy clothes because the truth is sometimes there is no such thing as going back to a pre-pregnancy body. I don't have to be upset or mad about that, and I certainly don't need to criticize or punish myself for that. The body I have right now deserves some clothes that fit comfortably and look nice.

The last year and a half, my body has done some crazy, hard, superhuman things. This year, I want to thank it and love it and cherish it.

LaVerne

I'd like to tell you about my Grandma, LaVerne Farries.

When I was little, Grandma and Grandpa took me to Hood River for a train ride. The one thing I remember most about that day is that for a small part of the drive they let me ride in the trunk of the car. I asked to ride in the trunk because in Grandma's car I had an imaginary pet raccoon who lived in the trunk, and I talked to him through the middle section of the seatback that folded down. The train ride was really fun, especially riding in the caboose, but the best part was Grandma letting me ride with my raccoon in her trunk.

When I went to Grandma and Grandpa's house to spend the night, I got to do special things like eat Totino's pizzas for dinner, go to McDonald's for breakfast and watch Nickelodeon when I woke up in the morning. It's Grandma's fault that I have a weakness for sausage and egg McMuffins with cheese.

As I grew older, and after Grandpa was gone, I got to spend time with Grandma in other ways. Grandma enjoyed writing and wanted to record some family history. I had the honor of taking the family history she wrote down and typing it on the computer for her. Through her words, I learned more about my family and more about Grandma. When Grandma went to writing class but needed someone to drive her, I drove and went to class with her. I loved being part of a piece of her life that no one else really saw and being able to share an interest in writing with her.

While acting as her chauffeur, Grandma tried to teach me a lesson that my husband often reminds me of. You see, I'm the kind of driver who will often go the opposite direction to get someplace because I want to take the roads I'm most comfortable with, or because I don't want to turn left at certain intersections, or because I simply do not know where I'm going. When I was driving Grandma someplace in her car, I started to do this, and she quickly chided me and told me that it didn't make any sense to turn in the opposite direction of where you were trying to get to. She directed me on the right route to our destination. Grandma was always so practical.

Later on, when Grandma finally had to move out of her own house and start living in a retirement home, she and I would do puzzles together when I came to visit. I've never known anyone who loved jigsaw puzzles more than she did. I would give her a puzzle for Christmas sometimes, and the next time I came to see her, she would show me her finished product sitting on the table. I always marveled at the patience it took for her to spend all that time finding the right pieces for the right places. I wish I had that kind of focus.

During one of Grandma's moves from one retirement home to another, she and I sat in the lobby of her new residence while other family members were moving her things. We were looking at a book of photos together, photos of beautiful waterfalls around the world. That was one of the sweetest moments I spent with her because it was so quiet and peaceful sitting on the couch with my Grandma enjoying a beautiful book together. I am so glad that I sat down to keep her company instead of joining the others who were moving her things.

I am also grateful that I had the opportunity to see her one more time today before she died this evening. I love my Grandma and will treasure all my memories of her.

The universe in your eyes

I see the universe in your eyes
Every time you and I gaze at one another
New sights and endless possibilities
That stretch farther than the mind can imagine
Unfathomable beauty and pulsing life
That make me gasp in wonder
And a million fragments of human experience
That meld together to form
The incredible person you are and will be

I delight in the unfurling of the mysterious truths
That I will spend the rest of my life discovering
As I stare into the depths of your beautiful eyes

Be Here

I find myself deeply enamored
With the gentle freshness of the breeze
On a quiet, still morning
In early autumn

Every time I stop to be here
I remember it is these simple things
That pour the most beauty
Over my blessed life

If only I could remember
To be here
More moments of every day
My joy would overflow

Simplicity

I am most happy when I remember that I am a minimalist and begin clearing things away. 

I clear away extra clothes from my closet, old papers from the file cabinet, forgotten emails from the computer, stale food from the cupboard. 

And if I am very fortunate, I will remember to clear away unnecessary thoughts that crowd my mind with worry and doubt and negativity.

When all the extra things are cleared away, I find more space for peace, for quiet, for simple, joyful moments when I catch glimpses of true beauty. 

When all the baggage and junk and debris of life is discarded and forgotten, I rediscover my true and deepest self again in the midst of simplicity.

And my heart fills with pleasure and contentment, and all is right with the world.

Mother's Day

This year on Mother's Day, I found myself feeling miserable. I'm not a mother. I want to be a mother, but I'm not one yet. I'll be thirty this summer, and being childless after seven years of marriage sometimes feels like I've failed in some way.

It doesn't help at all that when a married woman is not yet a mother, people seem to think it's appropriate to remind her of her childless state. They say things like, "I'm sure you'll start having kids of your own soon," or "Maybe next year, you'll be celebrating mother's day," or " Anytime now, it will be your turn." They say these things to childless women on Mother's Day, at other people's baby showers, when talking about someone else's child, or when a new pregnancy has just been announced. They say these things even if they hardly know the person. It's as if they're thinking, "Oh poor woman, she must feel bad that she doesn't have a child; I'll just say something nice to cheer her up."

I know these people must be trying to be nice. I suppose their words are supposed to sound like encouragement or support or empathy. But when I hear those words, they don't lift me up or brighten my day. They piss me off. As a 29 year old woman who's been married for over seven years, when I show up to a baby shower, I am very aware of the fact that people expect me to have started having children already. I am very aware that the expectant mother has something that I don't have. And I am very aware in that moment of my desire and longing for a child of my own. I really don't need someone else to bring this to my attention.

I already know I don't have kids. I already know you think I should have kids. I already know that I want to be a mother. I really don't need you to say any of that out loud to me.

When someone says these things to me, it feels like a put-down, a rejection, a slap in the face. It feels like they look at me and see only a woman who hasn't fulfilled anything in her life yet. It feels like all they're seeing when they look at me is a potential mother.

Actually, I'm a person. Really. Even if I don't have any kids, even if I'm almost 30, even if everyone else around me appears to be popping out babies-- I'm a person, a valuable and interesting and intelligent person who has a life. So please stop telling me about what I'm lacking in my life, and start recognizing who I am and what I do have in life.


"It is not our roles that define us, but the integrity and bravery we bring to those roles."
             ~Rachel Held Evans

Give them your money! They feed children!

I haven't written much lately on my blog because nothing much has been happening. I've been going to school, doing some baking at home, being nice to my husband who is really busy at work right now. Just trucking along. Nothing really important to write down.

Then I started following a story online that stopped me in my tracks. You may have heard that the charity organization, World Vision, made an announcement that they were going to enact a policy allowing legally married homosexuals to work for their organization. And all of a sudden conservative evangelical Christians from across the country decided to stop sending money to World Vision.

World Vision decided they would allow married homosexuals to apply for jobs and a whole bunch of Christians decided that was a big enough deal to stop feeding children. Because homosexuals should not be allowed to help feed children? Because homosexuals should not get paid to help feed children? Because children should be punished and starved if they have any association at all with homosexuals?

Really????

And I started reading opinions being expressed on both sides of the issue. I have a specific opinion about World Vision hiring homosexuals, but that doesn't really matter. What tore me up was reading hate-filled, bullying words coming out of the mouths of Christians on both sides of the issue. Christians are people who try to act like Christ, right? Big fail here. Epic fail on the part of both conservatives and liberals. Each side took the moral high ground and put the other side in their place underneath their feet in order to better stomp on them.

So both sides are battling their war of hurtful and hateful words in the name of Christ, while children are hungry. And World Vision just feeds hungry children. That's the whole point-- they feed children. Who cares if the whole organization is run by gays and lesbians and they only hire from the LGBT community? If they're really good at feeding children, give them your money! They feed children!

The outcry against offering job opportunities to gay people was so overwhelming that World Vision quickly changed their policy back to the way it was before because so many Christians were cancelling their sponsorships in protest. And the war of words over sin and morality and Biblical truth continues from both the right and the left. The mud slinging continues with hungry children standing in the middle of it all. Shame.

Making up for lost time.

The other day, someone commented on my current lack of children and said that when I do get pregnant, perhaps I will have twins to make up for the lost time. And I guess she meant that I’ve lost time somehow because I should have started having children at a younger age or because I won’t have enough childbearing years left to have a whole houseful of children (which I really don’t want anyways). But this implies somehow that if I’m not using my time to have children when I should (I guess in my twenties instead of in my thirties), then I must be wasting my time. I’ll turn thirty this year, and I will reach this milestone without ever having conceived a child. (And don’t worry, we haven’t started trying yet. We’re not infertile as far as we know.)

But I really don’t see my time as having been wasted at all. Did I often wish that I had children throughout the last ten years of my life? Absolutely. Sometimes desperately. But when you’re in a relationship, making the decision to have kids is kind of a two person job, and it’s not the right time unless it’s right for both of us. I wished for children and hoped for children and daydreamed about children, but I’m also really glad that I haven’t had them yet. Sometimes what we wish for and desire most is not what we’re supposed to have at the moment. Sometimes it’s something we’re supposed to wait for.

There are so many other wonderful things that I filled that time with that I wouldn’t have had if I had been having babies instead.

Like spending the last seven years married to my husband, just him and me. Just him and me and no one else. Time to bond. Time to snuggle. Time to figure out how to have a more functional and graceful relationship with each other. Time to grow up and decide what we really want from life. Time to make goals and change goals and achieve goals without having to worry about how to take care of a kid at the same time. This time with my husband all to myself has been precious, and I wouldn’t go back and trade it for having kids earlier.

I feel like all too often we feel this pressure externally or internally about how and when and where every important thing in our life should happen. It’s like there’s a set of unwritten rules about what life looks like, and if you don’t follow those rules, you must be failing. If you’re not married at the right time, or having kids at the right time, or making the right decisions about your education and career, if you don’t do your life like everyone else seems to be doing their lives, then there must be something wrong with you.

Except, I just don’t buy that. Because if I’m doing my life based on other people’s expectations or examples, then I’m not doing my life; I’m doing someone else’s life instead. There’s only one of me, and I am not my parents, I am not my friends, I am not some statistical average. I am an individual on a path that was set out just for me. I have to trust that my path is good and will take me where I need to go.

My path so far has been amazing. It’s been beautiful, breathtaking, challenging, surprising. But it has certainly not been a waste of my time. My path, my life, so far has been time well spent, and I’m excited to see what comes next.

I love myself just the way I am.

I hear you

Loud and clear

Shouting at me to make sure I hear

To make sure I know and never forget

How to be more powerful

How to be more perfect

How to be a better me

Empower yourself

Wear those skin tight jeans

And a teeny tiny shirt

And never leave home

Without your pushup bra

Put on your smoky eyes

With dark long lashes

And plumped up shiny lips

No matter how long it takes

Don’t leave the bathroom

Without baby soft skin

And shave and pluck and wax, repeat

Because the less you look real

The more confident you will feel

Empower yourself

By eating less

Eat nothing if you must

Work out longer and repeat

Break a sweat every time

Or it doesn’t count

Buy a different cellulite cream

If the first one didn’t work

And the most expensive diet pills

And the low fat cardboard food

Lose every pound you possibly can

Because the less space you take up in this world

The more power you will have

That’s what you’ve told me

That’s what I’ve heard

I can discover myself

Love myself

Be proud of myself

Not because of my strong character,

Not because I am thoughtful,

Intelligent, creative, kind,

Understanding, intuitive,

Well-educated or wise

But rather because I have worked so hard

For this beautiful, sexy, fine ass

That’s all I really need in life

Is this fine ass

And my breasts pushed up to my chin

And a flatter stomach

And less cellulite

Then I’m worth loving, right?

Yes, I hear you loud and clear

I’ve heard you over and over again

And I still don’t believe you

You can tell me who I need to be

A million times over

But I will never believe

Because I hear you loud and clear

And you are clearly lying

You are loudly lying

You are lying over and over

A million times over I hear your lie

So I will continue to love myself

In the jeans that are comfortable

And my favorite old sweatshirt

In this soft, saggy bra that feels good all day

With not a speck of makeup on my face

With the lashes and skin that God gave me

And sometimes without shaving for weeks

I love myself just like that

I love myself most just like that

And I will continue to be proud of myself

For eating real food that sustains my body

And even food that tastes amazing

And even food with real sugar and real butter

Because sometimes that’s what hits the spot

And I will be proud of myself

When I work out because I want to be strong

Strong enough to accomplish anything

When I break a sweat because I am enjoying myself

Too much to stop

And I will be even more proud of myself

When I don’t work out

When I’m dog tired

Because sometimes taking care of myself

Means resting, means sitting and being still

And I promise to boycott diet pills and miracle creams and low fat foods

For all the rest of my days

Because I want to just be myself

I want to be my genuine self

And there is nothing you can do

To convince me otherwise

I love myself

And you can’t persuade me not to

I am empowered and confident and proud

Because I am my best self

Just the way I am

And I am an amazing person

Just the way I am

So I will shout this loud and clear

To anyone who can hear

I love myself, love myself, love myself

Just the way I am

Thanksgiving

It's November. And all my facebook buddies are going to start sharing one thing every day that they are thankful for in celebration of Thanksgiving.

I'm thankful for things, too. But there might be some days in November when I feel snarky or flabbergasted, and then I may forget to tell everyone that I'm thankful. Or I might get sick. Or I might be busy with homework. Or I may take a whole day or two off from using the Internet (gasp!). And then you won't know what I'm thankful for that day.

We can't have you not knowing what I'm thankful for when it is November, so I'm just going to put it all down right here, right now. One thankfulness for every day of November, not necessarily in any particular order. No slacking off for me this year!

1. My husband is my favorite person in the whole world!
2. I love fruits and vegetables!
3. I have some of the funniest, most loving, and clever siblings in the whole world.
4. My parents have loved and cherished me every day of my life, even on bad days, even on busy days. They've never forgotten to love me!
5. I've never gone a single day in my life without having my needs met. Every day I have food, clothes, a roof over my head, heat and running water. Every single day. And that is incredible!
6. I get to do what I love. Right now, I'm going to massage school, and it is fulfilling, stimulating, fascinating and fun.
7. I am healthy and well. My body works and functions beautifully!
8. My husband has provided a beautiful home for me where I can feel content, safe, and at peace.
9. I live in the most beautiful place on earth: Oregon!
10. I have the time and energy to try new things. I love experiments!
11. All the electronic appliances in my home work really well, which means it's easy and simple for me to cook food, wash my clothes, wash dishes. It's the best life!
12. I love my public library! I will never run out of new things to read and learn and think about. For free!
13. I really appreciate that my husband is as stubborn and strong-willed as I am. It helps make me a more humble, flexible, and gracious person.
14. I'm thankful for Goodwill. It feels amazing to be able to buy new clothes so I feel fresh and stylish and pretty without having to feel guilty at all about spending too much money.
15. I'm grateful to have a life that is, for the most part, structured and predictable. I know, this sounds boring, but it makes me feel secure.
16. My husband is so sexy! I still stare at him all the time because his gorgeousness catches my eye, and I just can't look away.
17. Cleanliness! To have the resources, tools, time, energy, and know-how to have a clean home, a clean body and clean clothes is priceless to me.
18. My husband doesn't think I'm nuts, even when I say things or do things that really are nuts.
19. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I am thankful for professional sports. Watching and reading about sports makes my husband's eyes sparkle sometimes. And I'm just a sucker for sparkles in eyes.
20. Andrew, Malia, Travis, Amy, Ryan, and Emma are the most beautiful people on earth that I know. Even though they're not my own babies, I think they're perfect in every way. These sweet nieces and nephews will be my precious babies no matter how old they get.
21. I have a precious friend who has been there for me through thick and thin. It's not very often that a person gets to have a lifetime friend. Let's keep talking forever!
22. I love teachers! My dad has always been my favorite teacher, but I've had so many good ones. My childhood teachers helped draw me out of my shell and show me my potential. The teachers I've worked with taught me how to be a good teacher myself. And the teachers I have right now are sharing amazing things with me about massage and about life that are going to change who I am forever.
23. Sometimes (well, like almost every day) I turn on some good music and dance like a crazy person in my living room and kitchen and bedroom and bathroom... Thank you to all the musicians out there for writing music for me to dance to!
24. I am so grateful for the all the food I can get at the grocery store. Pretty much anything that I can think of to eat (vegetables!) is there, every day, all day long. If you think about it, that's really pretty awesome!
25. I love rain! I love listening to rain, watching rain, walking in the rain, dancing in the rain... It's one of those things that feeds my soul.
26. I'm grateful for unexpected changes in life. As much as I'd like to carefully plan everything and have it be just a certain way, the changes and curveballs almost always turn out better and are usually important in some way.
27. I am thankful for Chemeketa Community College. Here's a fun fact that you may not know. My entire life, my dad worked at Chemeketa. My husband now works at Chemeketa and hopes to continue working there for the rest of his career. So, Chemeketa has been my main source of income for all but about five years of my life and will probably continue to be for many more years.
28. I'm grateful that my mom taught me how to sew. I don't sew often or well, and I don't make big things or fancy things. But when I need to sew something or I want to sew something, I can.
29. There are a few authors and poets who have changed my life by putting their thoughts on paper and finding a way to share them. I am forever indebted to these people for taking the time and effort to write those words down so I could read them.
30. Chinese medicine is the bomb! Because of the work my acupuncturist has done with me, I am healthier and happier than I have ever been in my entire life. Literally! I hope that I can learn enough about Chinese medicine in the context of massage to be able to help other people find healing and wellness as well.

So, that's it, in a nutshell. I'm blessed and oh so grateful for the life I have! Happy Thanksgiving!

The other day, I told a lie.

The other day, I told a lie to a new acquaintance in a class at massage school. Kind of. It wasn't really a lie, but it kind of was. And I've been trying to decide why I answered her questions the way I did.

My classmate was feeling uncomfortable in class because of the spiritual aspects of Eastern massage that our teacher was sharing with us as part of our training. She told me she didn't like that part of the class because she is a Christian, and she asked me if I was a Christian. I said yes. She asked me if I believed in Jesus. I said yes. She asked me if I went to church, and I said no.

But the real truth is that I'm not a Christian, at least not by the definition that most people use. But I'm also not a non-Christian. I'm not an athiest; I'm not an anti-Christian. Apparently I look like a Christian. That's what my classmate told me. She said, "I thought so. You look like a Christian."

What does a Christian look like? If I was a full-on atheist, would I look different? Because I grew up as a Christian, will I always look like a Christian no matter what I actually believe?

When she asked me if I believed in Jesus, I said yes because I do. Except that I know that when she asked that simple question, she was really asking, "Do you believe that Jesus is the son of God who died on the cross to save us from our sins so we can live eternally in Heaven after we die?" And my honest answer would have been no. I believe in the things that Jesus taught... but I don't believe he taught that.

So I didn't lie, but I didn't tell the truth either. And I've been thinking a lot about that because telling the truth is really important to me. Why didn't I just tell her the truth?

It would have taken too long. She wasn't looking for a long in-depth conversation about theology or spirituality. She simply wanted to see if I was her ally, if I was on her side and would sympathize with her discomfort. If I had given her a short answer that was the opposite, that would have been untrue as well.

I can't really give short answers that are all the way true because I'm in this weird middle place that is very grey. But I've noticed that when people want to talk about God, religion, spirituality, theology they really like to keep things black and white. Neat and tidy. Clean and clear-cut. People who aren't living a black and white spirituality are wishy-washy. And I've heard that wishy-washy Christians are some of the worst kinds.

The truth is, I'm scared of Christians. Not all of them, just the conservative, evangelical variety. I'm scared of telling them I'm not a Christian or telling them I don't believe in Jesus as my personal Savior or saying something crazy about how there isn't any such thing as heaven and hell. I'll tell almost anyone I know what I think about these things, but put me face-to-face with a person who's a good conservative Christian, and I clam up right away, apparently. You see, I used to be one of them, so I know how they're supposed to react to people like me. I know that if they really are living for Jesus, as soon as they find out I'm not saved, they'll get right on that. They'll figure out how to start evangelizing me, they may ask me to church, or, if they're shy, they may just look at me with pity in their eyes because I'm going to burn in hell. And then they'll make a mental note to pray for me.

And I don't want to be treated like that. I don't want to be treated like a non-Christian by other Christians, so it's hard for me to tell them the real truth. Even when I was a tried-and-true Christian, I found other Christians who still couldn't resist evangelizing me if they found even the smallest detail of my personal theology to be amiss.

I'm scared of being treated like a non-Christian instead of being treated like a person. I'm scared of being treated like a sinner or someone who is lost and needs direction or someone who is making poor life decisions. I'm scared of being diminished and reduced and cut down to nothing but a label. I just want people to treat me like a person. I want people to appreciate my mind and my soul and my heart regardless of whether I have the right answers to their questions. I want to be honest about who I am and have that be okay.

I'm scared that if I give an honest answer that someone doesn't like, that person will stop listening to anything else I have to say. So sometimes I tell little lies. Maybe someday I will have more courage.