Not For Kids

The other day at work, I was reading a book about dinosaurs to Nicky, who is five years old. Each chapter of the book focused on a different dinosaur and the specific trial that the dinosaur was facing and how they survived (or not) the ordeal.

Yesterday we were reading through chapter three. A severe drought had recently devastated the land where a herd of Brontosauruses had once enjoyed bountiful vegetation and the dinosaurs were now searching for a more fertile land. The story really began to pick up as the narrator described how an aging Brontosaurus, unable to keep up with the younger and more agile dinosaurs in the herd, had begun to lag behind.

This is the story and my thoughts as I read to Nick...

"Slowly the older animals in the heard began to lag behind. With so little food, they were too tired to walk."

This guy had better watch his back--in the last chapter when an aging Allosaurus began to lag behind, a younger Allosaurus ate the older one for dinner. Harsh.

"A young male Brontosaurus also lagged behind..."

Uh oh. Hm. I wonder...

"...but not because he was weak."

I'm sure it's just the child of the old Brontosaurus, going to spend a few last moments with mommy/daddy Brontosaurus. Wisdom will be shared, memories made, tears shed.

 "One of the females in the heard was ready to..."

Whoa whoa whoa. Wait, what is happening?! This is a children's book, sure they aren't going to...

"...mate."

What? What kind of dinosaurs are these?! How can they even think about mating at a time like this? Don't they know what just happened? Someones mother/father just died! Where is the grieving time?! You make me sick, Brontosaurus. Sick.

The book went on to describe how the young Brontosaurus couple spent the whole evening together in their little love bubble--including dinner later that night (I kid you not)-- then joined back up with the herd in the morning. Well, the herd minus the old Brontosaurus who died of starvation the night before while the thoughtless dinosaur couple was mating and eating the vegetation they had apparently been able to find (and kept to themselves.) I mean, couldn't they have at least offered a small tree branch to the dying Brontosaurus?

Seriously, not the most considerate dinosaurs on the planet. I felt no compassion for the young Brontosauruses later in the story as they faced a raging fire in the forest. I thought, "Yeah, remember that Brontosaurus you left to die alone? Well, he faced the hot flames of loneliness that burned at his soul. Not feeling so strong now, are you?" They deserved to die off. 

I actually really debated about the last sentence I wrote...because it's not actually how I felt. Damn it, I still felt bad for the dinosaurs. No dinosaur, not even a thoughtless, self-centered, careless Brontosaurus deserves to die in a fire.

What Am I Doing Wrong?

Monday morning comes early for me. 5:30AM early. And all for a Sanitation class that is three hours long. 

Well, this morning when I walked into class, I saw that it had finally happened. I knew it was only a matter of time. It's the circle of life. Or maybe a gravitational pull in which resistance is futile. All I know is that it happens every single semester. It is the day when the one good looking and yet surprisingly non-duchey guy who actually arrives on time to class, makes his move to sit next to the one exceptionally beautiful girl.

First of all, almost every semester I encounter a certain type of girl--they're all strangely similar...and usually resemble Vanessa Hudgens--tan skin, dark hair, sparkly personalities, and they somehow always look fabulous at 8:00AM. Well, the Vanessa Hudgens of my Sanitation class explained (quite cheerfully) on the first day that she had started her own company a few years ago and was taking this class simply to help her be more knowledgeable in her business. Blah blah blah.

But I digress.

So this morning as I walked into my class (and sat down in my usual seat) I noticed that the boy and girl were seated next to one another and engaged in a lively conversation. A conversation which I, naturally, began to listen to from two rows back. They laughed and talked amicably together for a full twenty minutes before class began. They were entirely too happy for 7:40AM. But of course they were happy--the two most beautiful people in the whole class had found each other at last. Good for freaking them.

After class was over, I saw them walking down the hallway a few feet ahead of me. I heard the guy say, "So, am I going to get your number yet?" And I watched as they exchanged numbers. 

Puke.

I mean, sure, I've had my fare share of people at Valencia ask for my number. Okay, so maybe it was just two. And maybe they were total creepers. (Why is it always the weird people that talk to me?)

Creeper number 1.) I was seventeen years old, a senior in highschool, and duel-enrolling at Valencia. There was this guy who would always try to talk to me after class...and retrospect, there was really no reason to freak out. I just didn't understand why he was asking me questions. But apparently that's what people do when they're trying to get to know you. (Crazy, I know.) Well, he eventually asked for my number at the end of class one day--in front of everyone who was still in the room. I felt too bad to say no to him in front of them, so I gave him my number and said, "...but you shouldn't ever call me. Because I hate talking on the phone. So if you call, I won't pick up."

Smooth one, Lauren. Real smooth.

Creeper number 2.) This guy was a real gem. I felt bad for him (at least in the beginning) because pretty much everyone in class completely ignored him when he talked. Yes, he was more than a little strange...and totally weirded me out, but still. So I tried to be nice. You know where this is going. After a few weeks, he began to ask if we could hang out. I tried so hard to let him down gently, (because at this point I was still thinking I might hurt his feelings or something) but it wasn't working. So I ended up being like, "Listen dude, I don't know you and I don't feel comfortable hanging out with you." Except I would never say, "listen dude" and was probably more like, "Aw, that is so nice of you to ask to hang out, but I don't really know you very well or feel completely comfortable hanging out with just you." He didn't get the message and continued to ask my for my number.

I don't remember exactly how it happened, but I guess one week I caved and gave it to him. I didn't even know his name until he sent me a text that said, "Hey this is Zach from class, I just wanted to give you my number because you forgot to ask for it." (Oh...but... I didn't forget.) I then proceeded to write a text message to my mom saying, "Well, I found out the name of the guy in my class--his name is Zach, so we know that's not going anywhere good!" (My older sister had an ex-boyfriend named Zach.) And then I pushed "send". And glanced down at my phone to see the text message was sending. To Zach. I pushed that "cancel" button on my phone so hard and fast that it would have made Mario swim on a Game Boy.

It sent.

I threw my phone in the bushes and walked away.

The proceeding conversation with Zach went something like this:

Zach: Um...did you mean to send that me?
Me: Hahaha, of course! It was was joke! :)
Zach: Yeah...I knew that. I think.

Not my finest moment. I don't think he talked to me much ofter that. I guess he finally got the message?

Meet And Greet? More Like Meet And Weap.

Confession: I dread the meet and greet time at church. Pathetic, I know. But seriously, what's the deal with acknowledging the body of Christ around us at church? What, like we go to church to be encouraged by the community of believers around us or something? (That was a joke.) However, I'm pretty sure that hell is a place where these supposedly uplifting "meet and greet" situations are constantly on repeat, and as soon as you think it's over, you're told to stand up and greet those around you. Again. And again. And again. Also on repeat in hell: "I am a friend of God." Oh the irony. (Because…well…apparently you weren’t. Weren’t a friend of God, that is.)

There are a few different handshakes that occasionally occur during these types of situations. For example, we've all experienced the "Jilted Lover" handshake. This is, of course, when you reach out to shake someone's hand, but they shake the hand of the person next to you first...and your hand is left dangling outstretched in the air. In that moment, you have a choice to make -- simply put you hand down and acknowledge the awkwardness of what transpired, or fake nonchalance and pretend that you always leave outstretched appendages suspended in mid-air. 

There is also the lesser known "Over Eager" handshake attempt. This is when, in your panic to be shaking someone's hand, you enthusiastically extend your hand/arm to a person seated five rows in front of you...only to come to the halting (and for some reason surprising?) realization that your arm is not, in fact, ten feet long and able to traverse such a great distance. Unfortunately in this case, once your arm is outstretched and you've made eye contact with the other individual, there is really no way to redeem the situation. Your best bet is to just laugh it off. Or shake your head while looking bewilderedly at your arm and mutter something like, "Weird...it was so much longer yesterday..."

But the most awkward church handshake experience of my life (by far) happened today. In fact, I'm pretty sure I created a whole new category in the awkward handshake department. Somehow, my friend and I ended up shaking someone's hand at the same time. Like, both of our hands in one of their hands. I honestly don't know how it happened. All I know is that something felt strange, and I looked down in horror to see that I had just inserted my hand into an already happening handshake. Time began to slow as I gazed down at our three hands entwined together and all I could think was, "Noooo...what--how...?! I don't even understand what is happening right now..." The poor man's reaction was simply, "Well this is new." Yeah...for you and me both, my friend...for you and me both.

Hyperbole

Last week I went to the movie theater to see a live broadcasting of the radio program This American Life, which was being performed in New York. Per usual (I've always wanted to say that) the show was great. It was filled with comical moments, weird moments, and moments that were quite moving. But I won't talk about the things that actually impacted me in a meaningful way. Because then I would get serious. And I've tried my best to keep this blog free from anything containing real emotions on my part and requiring serious contemplation/reflection on yours. You're welcome.

For about the past...oh I don't know...8 months or so, I've been listening to This American Life podcasts somewhat obsessively. And when I say obsessively, I mean that I have listened to 70 percent of the weekly episodes from the past 17 years. However, I usually listen to them as I go to sleep at night--so more often than not, I only actually hear 70 percent of the episode before I fall asleep. Consequently, I've really only listened to 70 percent of 70 percent of the episodes.

But back to the movie theater. I somehow ended up nestled awkwardly between two strangers for the entire course of the show. (How are some people not aware of the always leave at least one empty chair in between your body and mine rule?) But despite this initial breech of social norms, we chuckled amicably at the inside jokes made by the show's host, Ira Glass. And I felt...I felt part of something. Part of something snooty and exclusive. And it felt good. It felt good to shake my head (internally...for the most part) as I walked past all the other people who were standing in line to see The Avengers or whatever other silly action movie was playing. Like, Oh...such children. Such a young and bumptious generation they are...but one day they will learn. One day they too will be cultured and join the ranks of us informed and reflective intellectuals who listen to "Fresh Air" and "All Things Considered" in our spare time and of our own volition.

(I don't really know what the point of this post was.)

Another Post About Relationships! Kidding

Note: This post has absolutely no redeeming quality. So if you're looking for redemption, I suggest you go speak with Jesus.

People were not on my good side as I was driving to work this morning. The problem is, when people are on my bad side, it doesn't really mean anything other than that if you start tailgating me, I will drive five below the speed limit just to make you mad. (I know, super mature.) But tailgation (yes, tailgation) was not the issue this morning. Merging, however, was the issue.

In the beginning, I was trying to do the right thing by graciously allowing a person driving a huge SUV, whose lane was ending and needed to merge, (and who did not have a turn signal on) into my lane. But can I just say--those darn people who are so oblivious, so above stress or worry when sitting in their enormous vehicles with their nonchalant attitude, who just expect people to let them merge at the very last second like they're entitled to it...it all just aggravates me. I know. I have issues.

So this is me in my car this morning:

"Oh hey Jesus...bla bla bla bla..."--insert thought-- okay big ugly SUV without a turn signal on, I will let you into my lane even though you waited until the last second to even attempt to merge and my natural tendency is to want to make you suffer in your predicament and teach you a lesson. But go ahead, enter into my lane and live-- end thought-- (SUV begins to merge into my lane)

"So Jesus, as I was saying...Wait, seriously, you big pretentious SUV?! No wave of appreciation for me letting you into my lane when you waited until the very last moment to merge?! Screw you!"

Yes. Mid prayer, I yelled "screw you" out loud. As soon as the words came out of my mouth I was immediately like, Wow. Seriously Lauren? Did you really just say that? You need to give people just a tad bit more grace. And calm the heck down. 


What if Jesus was like me? "Wait, seriously Lauren? You waited until the very last second (again) to ask for my help when you knew all along you were eventually going to need it? Well, this time I'm going to make you suffer in your situation because that will teach you a lesson. I'm God...I deserve more respect than this! Furthermore, the last time I did help you, you barely gave me a nod of appreciation. Screw you, Lauren!" I am so glad Jesus is not like me.

In other car related news...the water pump in my car is broken. Consequently, I am now carrying around a gallon of water in my trunk. Yes. I am that person. The pathetic person you see on the side of the road pouring bottles of water into their radiator. The person that a small part of your heart feels bad for as you drive past--but if you're honest, you're mostly just glad isn't you.

Now, if only I could set up a system where the water that streams into my car when it rains could instead be funneled right into my radiator...

Someday I will have a car that is normal. Perhaps even a car that has carpet...?! I know, I'm getting a little crazy here. A girl can dream.

Long, Drawn Out And Semi-Serious? Yes!

Note to reader: You are so excited to read this. So excited. I promise, you are. That feeling you got when you scrolled down to see how long this whole thing was? Yep. That was the feeling of excitement. You know you want to read every single word of this crazy long post. It's okay, I don't blame you. I would totally want to read a ridiculously long rant about dating that someone else wrote, too. Or not.

So, the other day I came across a video. It is basically a very sweet and genuine girl encouraging other girls to make maintaining a relationship with God a higher priority than finding a boyfriend. And while the general message of what she is saying is true, there were just a few things that she said that I wanted to address. Here is the video: (Christ First Relationship) You should probably watch it, because I just picked out little phrases here and there, for this post.

She Said:

"...And it is incredible how that desire for an earthly being is completely cut off, when you put Christ first because He extinguishes all desire for an earthly person, because he is beyond that and above that."

"First seek a relationship with the Lord...and through that relationship and through growing in strength in the Lord, you will then be given the best guy that you could ever imagine."

First of all, I really don't want to pick on this girl--it's just that she put into words a message that I feel is prevalent in the Christian dating books that I read growing up (...growing up in the "I kissed My Life Dating Goodbye" era.) And the message I received as a young girl is that you get the guy when you don't want him anymore. And you must love God more, and when you love God enough, God will give you this awesome Christian man. And you will have earned it. Consequently I've always felt that I must reach some (mystical) place of being so deeply satisfied in God that all other desires are swept away in this overflow of devotion to God...and I would then be caught up in this place where all (cute, blue-eyed, music loving) godly men are somehow...invisible? 

Consequently, I did two things for many years

1.) The whole, "Yo God, look at me! I'm satisfied in you and now you can bring that person along" thing. But, being the bright young grasshopper that I was, I also knew that a guy/relationship would "happen" only when I wasn't looking/expecting it to happen. So...cue feigned indifference. Haha.Yeah okay. (Dang you God for always knowing the true state of my heart!)

2.) I have striven to get a certain place where my longing for a person was just completely surpassed and eradicated by this intense desire for God. (I have yet to become a different species--which is what I am convinced must happen to get to that place)

So do I think that people lie about being satisfied in God above everything else? Of course not. But I think that it has been both misrepresented and misunderstood what being satisfied in God can look like. I also believe there is an important difference, which is not often clarified, between discontentment and longing. The dictionary defines discontent as “not being pleased or satisfied” and longing as “A strong desire for something or someone.” What I am referring to in this post is longing, not discontentment. And I don't think that longing for a relationship is necessarily a sign of discontentment in God.
 
For example, maybe contentment isn't always a tangible feeling or the absence of longing, but rather, the manifestation in your practical life/actions of a deeper fulfillment in Christ that goes beyond feelings. Perhaps our level of “contentment” should be judged not by our feelings of longing but by our actions. As Proverbs 27:7 says, "One who is full loathes honey, but to one who is hungry everything bitter is sweet." I take that to mean basically this: True contentment allows a person to be picky. When you are truly satisfied you are less inclined to eat the "pretty good" stuff, let alone consume crap. So, what are you (proverbially) putting into your body? Are you willing to wait a little longer for the best or are you so starved that you're going to eat whatever crap is placed in front of you? Although it isn't always so black and white... the crap rarely temps me. It's the "Acceptable/almost good enough/now I am just being too dang picky and I should probably just be satisfied with this" stuff that is more difficult to refuse.

Let's do a crap scale (what, you've never heard of a crap scale?)
McDonalds coffee = crap
Panera/Starbucks coffee = pretty good acceptable
Authentic macchiato/cappuccino from Italy.... = the real deal

Most of you would accept the Starbucks coffee, wouldn't you? That's because it's not bad! It is totally, completely, socially...acceptable. (Okay, sorry for the cheesy analogy.)

But I digress. Have I ever reached a place where I actually didn't want a relationship? I have. And it was a lovely two or three months in la la land. During those months it was the first time in my life when I prayed that God would not bring any potential person into my life. And actually meant it. No faking. Did God bring that person along then? Nope. (Which is awesome, because I genuinely didn't want him to at that point.)

But it is also easy (okay, easier) to trust God when you have already realized for yourself that the time isn't right--when you've realized that you need to get your ducks in a row (which was a large part of why I didn't want a relationship.) But what about when your ducks are in a straight line...and then God still doesn't bring someone into your life? Personally, it is in those times that I get the most frustrated. "What now God?! You mean to tell me that I am still not good enough to deserve someone? What else can I possibly do?! Seriously God, how much more awesome can I get?"

I can't count the amount of times I have heard/read stories or "testimonials" (that's what they begin to sound like) of girls saying, "For the first time in my life I felt satisfied and content in God, and then (poof!) God dropped this burning hunk of love right in my lap." Sometimes I can't help but wonder how long God made those girls wait in the "feeling completely and utterly satisfied in God alone" place. But that is probably just my cynical self speaking... However, like I said, despite how I am feeling on any given day or month, I still find my ultimate comfort in my Father because he is enough even when he doesn't feel like it. Aside from those few short months last year, He has yet to make the desire and longing for a person go away. And honestly, I don't know that that longing, per se, is something that needs to be "overcome." (This is a learning process for me too, so maybe in another year I will have learned something new and changed my mind about this.)

But maybe sometimes God doesn't give you what you want (especially right when you want it) even when your way is pleasing to Him. Even when you are putting him first. Even when you truly do desire him above other things in your life and are living that out. God is not withholding anything good from you. Yes, perhaps His gift in this moment looks different than the type of gift he is giving to other people (and slightly less attractive/warm/hug-able. I feel you, sister) But I absolutely believe it is still a good gift. An equal gift. And our Father knows his children and knows what will bring us the deepest joy. (Sometimes what brings the deepest joy is humbly yielding to the way that God has chosen to work in you life.) Will we be faithful with the gift that he is giving us right now?

How about instead of striving to get to a place where our desire for a man/woman/relationship is gone, or instead of becoming a Super Christian/a superior being who is above the normal range of human emotions, (because we have God and God is our boyfriend/girlfriend and all that weird jazz...) how about we take a deep breath. And then take a walk through the woods or run on the beach or go hike a mountain...and actually let ourselves be human for a while--and allow God be with us in our longing for that person, instead of asking him to take away the longing.

Do I need God to take away every longing? Can I trust him enough when he doesn't? Reality check: God's goal for me in life is not my comfort.

I have found that I can experience a much deeper rest in God in the midst of my longings when I stop trying to put on a brave front and just be real with God that I do have a deep desire for a person/relationship...but that I trust and love Him more--and that is why I will continue to live, change, and grow in my life as I wait. As I longingly, yet trustingly, wait in hopeful (although at times uncomfortable) expectation.

And you know what? God might choose to not bring someone into my life for years. Because in the end, He is God. And I want what he wants more than I want my own way. He is my God. And he is good all the time. Right now, when he isn't giving me everything I want--whether that is direction, purpose, a relationship, or certain opportunities. He is a good God now--not when every longing and desire is filled, but in all of my (unfilled) longings and desires.

Like Most Things...

It began innocently enough.

It was early November.

I had a single can of whipped cream.

I made that first can last for at least two weeks.

But what started as a "healthy layer" (2-3 inches..) of whipped cream on every cup of coffee, quickly turned into something much more dark and sinister. Towards the end of November I was going through a can of the stuff each week. By the the time December rolled around I knew I was in deep and simply did what any rational, sagacious, adult in denial would do--I declared it National Whipped Cream Month (um, yes I have that kind of power) in an attempt to justify my addiction actions.

(You many now go ahead and google "sagacious.")

But that's not the worst of it. You see, I began leaving the whipped cream container on the counter, so that as I drank my coffee, I could easily refill my cup at any point (refill with whipped cream--not coffee.) Because by leaving the can on the counter, I was able to eliminate that annoying step of actually having to open the refrigerator door to remove the bottle from its arctic paradise.

Unfortunately, it doesn't end there...I began bringing the can of whipped cream with me to wherever I would sit down. (Now eliminating the need to stand up and walk over to the kitchen counter.)

Complete transparency? ...there is a bottle of whipped cream sitting next to me as I type this.

I'm not going to get too graphic on you... (my little sister reads this blog sometimes and I don't want to give her nightmares.) Just know this: it's not pretty.

Throughout the month of December I began going through two bottles of whipped cream a week. That is one bottle for every 3.5 days. (I know, my sweet math skills just totally took you off guard, didn't they?) Two cans a week didn't even sound too bad until I realized that I only drink coffee at home 4 days a week. Please don't make me do the math for you on that one.

Okay fine, I will.

Two cans of whipped cream
Four days
That is half a bottle of whipped cream a day.

Honestly, I'm not even trying to justify it anymore. Basically, I'm filling my cup with whipped cream and pouring a tablespoon or two of coffee over the top.