Latest Posts by depressionanddeconstruction - Page 9

RANT Warning: indelicate language and imagery. Okay, so apparently as much as 54% of men and 42% of women are STUPID. I'm sorry but I'm not gonna be all politically correct about this. Anyone who answered yes to any of those questions is STUPID. STUPID AND WRONG.  For anyone out there who's a little bit confused....

RAPE IS NEVER OKAY. 

No matter what. No matter who long you've been dating, no matter how much money he spent, no matter what her level of sobriety, no matter what he's seen of her or done with her, no matter what mixed signals he's gotten, NO MATTER WHAT. It's not okay to force sex on a woman who does not want it.  And let's just stop and examine two of the conditions up there:  a) He is so turned on he thinks he can't stop. b) She gets him excited sexually. 

Ohmygoodness. MAN UP. Newsflash: Guys get turned on all the time. It's not exactly a novel thing. Guys can get turned on for no apparent reason. 

As a guy, are you seriously gonna try and tell me that you couldn't help it?  (This is where it gets graphic) ...That your dick was hard so you just HAD to ram it inside of her? That's bullshit! (I get vulgar when I get angry).  Oh, you were horny. Oh you poor baby. My heart bleeds for you, it really does.  MAN UP.

You're not an animal. You're not a robot. You don't HAVE to do everything your body wants you to. As a human, you SHOULD have morals. And you are able to reason and make choices. If you know that rape is ALWAYS WRONG (which it is) then you CAN walk away. You are not so weak that you are helpless against the primitive desires of your flesh.  So when I hear someone say something like "he's so turned on he thinks he can't stop" or "she gets him excited sexually", you know what I think? I think that "he" is a cowardly, lazy, spineless, weak, pathetic BOY. Because any man who cannot master his body and decide to respect women despite his physical urges is no man at all. 

God is...

This is a description of God I heard read at a leadership conference once. I, obviously, had to go google it. I love it, and wanted to share it: 

He is the First and Last  The Beginning and the End  He is the keeper of Creation and the Creator of all  He is the Architect of the universe and the Manager of all times  He always was, He always is, and He always will be  Unmoved, Unchanged, Undefeated, and never Undone  He was bruised and brought healing  He was pierced and eased pain  He was persecuted and brought freedom  He was dead and brought life  He is risen and brings power  He reigns and brings Peace  The world can't understand him,  The armies can't defeat Him,  The schools can't explain Him, and  The leaders can't ignore Him.  Herod couldn't kill Him,  The Pharisees couldn't confuse Him,  And the people couldn't hold Him.  Nero couldn't crush Him,  Hitler couldn't silence Him,  The New Age can't replace Him,  And Oprah can't explain Him away!  He is light, love, longevity, and Lord.  He is goodness, Kindness, Gentleness, and God.  He is Holy, Righteous, mighty, powerful, and pure.  His ways are right,  His word is eternal,  His will is unchanging,  And His mind is on me.  He is my Redeemer,  He is my Savior,  He is my guide,  And He is my peace.  He is my Joy,  He is my comfort,  He is my Lord,  And He rules my life.  I serve Him because His bond is love,  His burden is light,  And His goal for me is abundant life.  I follow Him because He is the wisdom of the wise,  the Power of the powerful,  The Ancient of Days,  The Ruler of rulers,  The Leader of leaders,  The Overseer of the overcomers,  And the Sovereign Lord of all that was and is and is to come.  And if that seems impressive to you, try this for size.  His goal is a relationship with me.  He will never leave me,  Never forsake me,  Never mislead me,  Never forget me,  Never overlook me,  And never cancel my appointment in His appointment book!  When I fall, He lifts me up.  When I fail, He forgives.  When I am weak, He is strong.  When I am lost, He is the way.  When I am afraid, He is my courage.  When I stumble, He steadies me.  When I am hurt, He heals me.  When I am broken, He mends me.  When I am blind, He leads me.  When I am hungry, He feeds me.  When I face trials, He is with me.  When I face persecution, He shields me.  When I face problems, He comforts me.  When I face loss, He provides for me.  When I face Death, He carries me Home.  He is everything for everybody, everywhere, every time, and every way.  He is God, He is faithful.  I am His, and He is mine.  My Father in heaven can whip the father of this world.  So, if you're wondering why I feel so secure,  understand this...He said it and that settles it.  God is in control, I am on His side,  and that means all is well with my soul.  Everyday is a blessing for GOD Is.

My Commitment as a Christian

Just wanted to share this. It was written by a young pastor in Africa and tacked on his wall.

 I'm part of the fellowship of the unashamed. I have Holy Spirit power. The die has been cast. I have stepped over the line. The decision has been made. I'm a disciple of His. I won't look back, let up, slow down, back away, or be still.

  My past is redeemed, my present makes sense, my future is secure. I'm finished with low living, sight walking, small planning, smooth knees, colorless dreams, tamed visions, mundane talking, cheap living, and dwarfed goals.

  I no longer need pre-eminence, prosperity, position, promotions, plaudits, or popularity. I don't have to be right, first, tops, recognized, praised, regarded, or rewarded. I now live by faith, lean on His presence, walk by patience, lift by prayer, and labor by power.

  My face is set, my gait is fast, my goal is heaven, my road is narrow, my way rough, my companions few, my guide reliable, my mission clear. I cannot be bought, compromised, detoured, lured away, turned back, deluded or delayed. I will not flinch in the face of sacrifice, hesitate in the presence of the adversary, negotiate at the table of the enemy, ponder at the pool of popularity, or meander in the maze of mediocrity.

  I won't give up, shut up, let up, until I have stayed up, stored up, prayed up, paid up, preached up for the cause of Christ. I am a disciple of Jesus. I must go till He comes, give till I drop, preach till all know, and work till He stops me. And when He comes for His own, He will have no problems recognizing me - my banner will be clear!

"Being a Christian doesn't mean you're perfect, it just means you're forgiven."

You know, sometimes I think we miss the whole point of GRACE. It’s not a one-time thing (thank God), like we become a Christian and we pray that prayer, and then in that moment, everything in our past is wiped away, and then we have to be perfect form that point on. Like all our past mistakes are forgiven but we’re not allowed to make any more.

See, I have this weird complex-type thing where I’m almost convinced that I have to be absolutely perfect and I can’t handle it if I’m not. And I think that among my peers, there are more people like me than I thought. So let’s all stop, take a breath, and accept the fact that we will fail. Let’s stop hating on ourselves because “I’m not patient enough”, “I don’t have enough faith”, “I doubt God”, “I’m a terrible person”. The last one isn’t even true, for anybody. And the rest of those flaws are not the end of the world.

Because, grace means that it’s OKAY that we aren’t perfect! That is the very reason why Jesus died. The blood he shed for us covers every time we slip. I KNOW I’m not good enough! So did Jesus. That’s why He gave us His Holy Spirit to live in us and complete us, to fill the areas where we are lacking, to give us the spirit of Christ, to adopt us into His family, and give us eternal life. In my weakness, His strength is revealed. I am not enough, but He lives in me, and He is. THAT is grace.

Grace means it’s okay to be human. GRACE is what distinguishes Christianity from any religion, because it means that we don’t have to be good enough. Thank God, I don’t have to be good enough, because I never could.

This is a journal entry of mine slash a letter I wrote to my friend from a couple years ago:

“March 5, 2011

That perfect girl I want to be…she doesn’t exist. That’s the truth. Let the truth set you free. Jesus knows us. He knows that our hearts are deceitful and wicked and betray our best intentions. He knows we’re gonna screw up daily..many times a day in fact. He knows that we haven’t the faintest glimmer of hope of being the person we think we’re supposed to be, but He doesn’t want us to be that person. He just wants us to be us and let Him use us. He just wants us to choose to give Him EVERYTHING, the good and the bad to Him, because He made us, and He doesn’t make anything He can’t use. That’s when our weakness is replaced by God’s strength.

If we were perfect, what would we need Jesus for? We could get to Heaven on our own then! But that’s not the point. We are accutely aware of our own inadequacies and failings and it is because of that that we can truly appreciate the magnitude of His infinite love and GRACE, and what He did for us on the cross.

So yes, don’t be comfortable with your mistakes. By all means, try your best to be the best you can be, but don’t hate yourself when you make a mistake, or when you feel like your character is flawed beyond repair. Instead, embrace the redeeming power of Jesus’ blood.”

One of my favourite quotes is from a song by Lecrae, called Background. The lyrics say “Cause if I do this by myself I’m scared that I’ll succeed, and no longer trust in you, cause I only trust in me.”

We are nothing without Christ. So why do we try so hard to be something without Him, and why are we so surprised and dismayed when we fail time after time? Embrace being imperfect, and embrace the grace that says it’s okay.

God is calling YOU.

I decided today that I resent the phrase “full-time ministry” when referring to pastors. ”Full-time” ministry, as opposed to everybody else who’s only part-time? I believe that EVERYBODY’S ministry should be full-time. I believe that witnessing and outreach should be a way of life, not a job.  I have many friends who want to be pastors or did want to at some point (the official count is up to six at the moment.) And sometimes I think that people feel like if you’re a Christian, the only job God can call you to is to be a pastor or a missionary - like those are the only “Holy” jobs. Like you HAVE to do one or the other to truly be a good Christian. Because, for a long time, when my very best friend was absolutely 100% certain of God’s calling on her life to become a children’s pastor, I felt like I didn’t have a calling on my life. I think I know what it is now. :)

I want to put it out there that God calls all types. I believe I have friends who are called into social work. God calls doctors and nurses. God calls business men. God DEFINITELY called my mom to be a teacher. She says she knows that teaching is where she is supposed to be, with junior high kids who are messed and lost and just need love and guidance. I know people who have a heart for kids and want to love on them so they’re going into social work to help children have better lives. And I want to be a pediatrician, because I love children and I want to help people.

God gave you talents and interests and skills and passions for a reason! And whatever He calls you to do, it’ll probably line up with whatever He’s already equipped you to do well. He might call you to be a stay-at-home mom, or a lawyer or a plumber!

I have an issue with this.

Okay so, recently I watched a video that is a spoken word detailing the difference between false religion and true Christianity. It’s fabulous. It’s a concise, articulate, theologically sound (including references to the old testament) poem which explains what we really believe, and I love it. It talks about not judging and good stuff like that.

My issue is completely separate, but is related to it indirectly. It stems from the fact that one of my friends shared this on Facebook, one whose lifestyle does not reflect a relationship with Christ. So when he shared this video on Facebook, one gets the impression that he feels that this video justifies his point of view. In fact, it does not. Yes, religious people have no right to condemn anybody because none of us are perfect and Jesus loves everybody and so should we. But there’s a difference between loving you and agreeing with you. Ever heard the expression “love the sinner, hate the sin”? Well, loving people is not people-pleasing. So we can hate religion all we want, because religion refers to hypocritical and self-righteous traditions all designed to create the illusion of someone who is “holier than thou.” But that doesn’t change the fact that there are some things that are not okay. Not drunkenness, or taking the Lord’s name in vain, or sex before marriage, or pornography, or lying, or cheating, or jealousy, or pride. I don’t discriminate, I have a problem with all sin equally. And I struggle with some of those. And yes, the grace of God covers all sin, but there’s a verse that says “so should we keep sinning so that God’s grace can just keep multiplying?” The answer is a resounding “NO!” That’s holy inflation. That’s cheapening God’s mercy and compassion, taking it entirely for granted and reducing it to having no value. In fact, God’s mercy is something so valuable, it should knock us on our faces in complete awe and submission of the Lord who saves our sorry souls. It should make us acutely aware of our own inadequacy and of the infinitely generous gift that God is giving us. See it all comes down to a sermon by Pastor Glen Newman that I heard over the summer: You can’t have grace without truth, and vice versa. Because the truth is that WE’RE NOT GOOD ENOUGH. And truth alone will make you hopeless and bitter, facing a lifetime of futile strife trying to live up to an impossible standard. But the grace part says THAT’S OKAY, I AM ENOUGH. And grace alone will make us complacent, feeling secure in the knowledge that Jesus loves us so we don’t have to try. It’s a very delicate balance between accepting God’s love and living according to the lifestyle He requires of us. Soemthing else I heard over the summer was by Brad Noel and he said that “Jesus can only be your savior if He is your Lord.” Which means that salvation is not a one-moment thing, it’s a way of life that involves completely dying to the old you and turning your back on everything you once were so God can transform you into something new and beautiful, in His likeness.

I guess my point is that, if we hate religion and love Jesus, how do we show that we really love Jesus? How do we show that we’re 100% sold-out, on fire, passionately in love with the God who rescued us from ourselves? Do we just update our Facebook status?

Personification

Short Story: Beauty is a Beast

            You know that moment when you step off the schoolbus in the afternoon, or when you shut your bedroom door behind you, or lie in bed at night, and just breathe deeply, finally completely alone. You know the person you are in that moment? That’s the real you, with all your true hopes and dreams and values. Nobody can watch you or judge you, or tell you what to do or who to be. People should be that person more often.

        I see it a lot. People are always totally themselves around me. I’m your corner store cashier. I’m like a part of the wallpaper. Because honestly, what effect do I have on the rest of your life outside this miniscule window of time for your trip to buy chocolate or scotch tape? It’s amazing the things I can learn about people as a cashier just by simple observation. I’ve worked here at my tiny corner-store-attached-to-a-pharmacy on the corner of my street for two years, and we sell everything from a turnip to tweezers. In two years of working 7-11 every day of the summer and 7-11 every Saturday and Sunday during the school year, I’ve gotten to know most of the people who live in our neighborhood, through routine visits and fragments of conversation here and there.

 For example, elderly Mrs. McAllister lives all alone at the top of the hill with her four cats, whose photos she carries in her purse. Boots is the black one with white paws, Snowball is all white, Mittens is yellow with a black triangle on his forehead and Tommy is orange striped. She buys a 2L of milk and a Big Turk chocolate bar every single Saturday morning between 7:00 and 7:30 without fail.

 I expect Mr. Watkins visit around 9 every second Sunday morning. He always buys Werther’s hard caramel candies, Purity cream crackers, a bottle of ginger ale, a loaf of bread and bologna. He carries two tiny school photos in his wallet of his grandchildren, Jeffrey who is in grade five this year, and Alyssa, who is in grade two. They love the caramel candies.

 Finally, there’s a tall, dirty blonde boy around my age who seems to live on Nestea and Peppermint Lifesavers. He visits my store faithfully every day at around 10 during the summer to get his fix and still comes back every Saturday and Sunday morning during the school year. I know that he likes the Red Hot Chili Peppers, that he plays basketball and that he goes to the school on the other side of the city even though he’s not zoned for it. Name? Not a clue. I call him Lifesavers-Guy in my head.

 I’m writing all this down because I want to tell you the story of a boy and girl. Well mostly a girl, but the boy is in it a little bit. The girl’s name is Purple-Monster-Girl. Or at least, that’s what I call her.

 She appeared on the scene around the end of June, right after I had finished grade 11. That day I was teasing 13-year-old Joshua about his first date that night as I put his comic book and Sour Patch Kids into a bag. He was beet-red, right to the tips of his ears and was probably all too happy to escape when my attention was diverted. The little bell above the door tinkled and I looked up to see who it was. My first impression was that she looked really...for lack of a better word, Normal. I wish I could say she looked Mysterious, or she was gorgeous but she looked sad, but she just looked perfectly normal. She was about 5’7’’, with dark brown hair falling in loose waves to her shoulder blades, looking like she had let it dry on its own. I will say she has a really pretty face, with nice skin. She was wearing knee-length cut-off shorts, a black tshirt with a colourful graphic on the front that matched her turquoise converse. She wasn’t stick-thin but she wasn’t chubby by any means. She was just...normal. She had two earbuds stuck in her ears.

 She picked up a bag of Doritos, a purple Monster energy drink and a pack of Stride Spearmint gum. When she brought it to the counter I pointed at her ear and said

 “What are you listening to?”

 She cocked her head and looked at me for a second, as if sizing me up, then she said

 “Nothing. People are just less likely to try and make conversation with me if I have them in.”

 Something told me I should have been at least a little bit offended by that, but I wasn’t at all. I just felt like I had passed some secret character test. She left the store and I was left shaking my head.

 “Weird chick.” I thought, and that was the last I thought of it, until she became a recurring presence. She came back every now and then for her purple Monster and  Stride Spearmint, though the junk food varied, sometimes chocolate, sometimes candy, sometimes chips.

 Around mid-July when I was selling popsicles and soft serves to droves of sticky, smiling children, she started coming in at 7 in workout clothes. She stopped buying junk food then too. It was around this same time that Purple-Monster-Girl met Lifesavers-Guy. She happened to come later that day, and both of them approached my counter with their usual purchases at the exact same time. Sometimes, replaying the scene in my head, it strikes me that it’s just like a movie. He stepped back like a gentleman and gestured for her to go ahead of him. She just looked up at him, right in his eyes and almost literally glowed at him, like, her smile looked like he was a child who had just said his first word. While I rang in her purple Monster and Stride Spearmint and she gave me the exact change without me asking her, Lifesavers-Guy asked her the pivotal question:

 “What are you listening to?”

 I looked at her quizzically. Would she be as honest with him as she was with me? She wasn’t. After a glance at me so fast it was almost imperceptible, she took one earbud out, smiled and lied. This is a perfect example of how people are themselves around me. She had no trouble admitting that she wasn’t really listening to music to the corner store cashier, but to this stranger, this boy, who might judge her, she had to lie.

 “Red Hot Chili Peppers.”

 And what a lucky lie. Lifesavers-Guy’s face lit up and they chatted eagerly all through his order, in which I had to tell him his total twice because he wasn’t paying attention the first time, and out the door. I could see them standing on the sidewalk outside the store. She laughed a lot and he smiled shyly, then they switched their phones and gave them back. I just grinned.

 As the days scorched and summer wore on, I sold a cool drink to every customer who walked in the store. August was giving us a beating this year. I stood behind my counter and watched harried fathers buying a box of cereal early in the morning, little old ladies buying tea bags and muffins, and people of all ages rushing in to pick up a card for various occasions and asking to borrow my pen. And I watched Purple-Monster-Girl and Lifesavers –Guy. Not in a creepy way, I mean when they came in the store. Sometimes, if he was alone, he bought Stride Spearmint or a purple Monster with his traditional order, or she bought Nestea or Lifesavers to accompany her drink and gum. Purple-Monster-Girl’s early morning workouts seemed to be working for her too, because the soft curves of June has transformed to taut, toned lines for August. As summer died with blazing red and orange sunsets, I saw them come in together sometimes holding hands. If one or both of them were in the store when Red Hot Chili Peppers came on the radio, I saw them smile like they shared some kind of secret. It obviously wasn’t such a huge secret if I was in on it, but nobody thinks of that.

 I guess they just felt special, as only new couples can. They were like a modern day Romeo and Juliet. Actually, scratch that. Let’s say they were like a modern day Beauty and the Beast. Not that either one of them was ugly and the other one was beautiful, I just think that story is infinitely more romantic than Shakespeare’s tragedy because it’s about seeing people for who they really are and looking past outward appearances. Anyway.

 The days grew shorter, the soft serve machine went into storage, and Purple-Monster-Girl, Lifesavers-Guy and I all went back to our respective schools for our last year. My time spent behind my corner-store counter was cut from seven days to two. But I still got visits from my favourite couple on the weekends. It was around the time that Crayola crayons and loose leaf were in big clearance bins at the front of the store, and big boxes of mini chocolate bars were on display that I saw Purple-Monster-Girl’s hair straightened for the very first time ever. She wasn’t wearing her workout clothes this Sunday. She was wearing shorts that were, in my humble opinion, too short. If not for the weather, at least for propriety. And she wore the same tshirt I had first seen her in. It hung on her differently now. It slipped right past her flat, toned stomach and didn’t even catch on her hips.

 And there was trouble in paradise for our neighborhood lovers. Or at least, that’s how I interpreted it. One chilly morning early November, I was organising a magazine rack and shaking my head at celebrities exploits when the two of them approached the store, seemingly in a heated discussion, judging from their faces through the glass. They stopped talking as soon as they entered the store. The tinny radio music couldn’t quite handle the oppressive silence, and only made it awkward when Red Hot Chili Peppers came on. I pretended to be totally absorbed in perfecting the magazine display, until they had paid for their items and left, still in silence.

 Chocolate Santas, chocolate Snowmen and chocolate Reindeer were flying off the shelves and we had our first snowfall. I smiled at all my customers and wished them a Merry Christmas as they left the store. The same five annoying Christmas songs played over and over the store speakers for a month straight, and everybody was jolly. And I watched tiny changes in Purple-Monster-Girl. Dark eyeliner rimming her eyes. A lower neckline than I’d ever seen her wear. Her hair was more often straight and more seldom wavy. She was still beautiful, but she packaged it more. She looked like beauty was no longer natural, but something she put on like a mask when she got up every morning. The day after school let out for Christmas vacation, they came in together, looking happy again. He kept his arm around her waist, not possessively, just kinda chillin there, like he was supporting her, or protecting her. And I saw the way he set his jaw.

 New Year’s Day the corner store was open. It closed only Christmas Day and two other forced holidays under the labor law. Anyway, I sold a lot of Advil, Tylenol, Coffee and Gatorade that morning. I didn’t try to make conversation with those customers, I just kind of smiled gently at them. One such girl laid a box of Advil on the counter with a purple Monster energy drink and a pack of Stride Spearmint gum. She didn’t really resemble the one who came in five months ago and told me there was nothing coming through her earbuds. Her whip straight hair had been highlighted with caramel streaks. That looked great to me. What didn’t look great was the tank top that looked two sizes too small and the painted-on jeans which revealed stick arms and legs and a waist so tiny it looked like it would fit between my finger and thumb. I stared at her for a few seconds in wonderment. There were dark circles under her eyes and her cheekbones had become very defined. I passed her her plastic bag of three items and wondered who she had kissed at midnight.

 It evidently wasn’t her boyfriend. No more did they enter the store together or buy each other’s items. Red Hot Chili Peppers on the radio elicited a stony face from him and...nothing from her, no recognition whatsoever. A week after we went back to school I watched Lifesavers-Guy stalk resolutely past the Monster cooler and refuse to let his gaze wander to the gum display next to the counter. I didn’t make any eye-contact with him as I rang in his Nestea and Lifesavers.

 The following month saw weather as cold and blustery as the night the enchantress sought refuge in the Prince’s castle. Business was slow. I sold contact solution, Benadryl, Root Beer and Reese’s Pieces. At home, I did homework and I started watching Beauty and the Beast again, to relive my childhood. I only saw the beginning before I fell asleep though. I saw the Beast shut himself up in his tower, ashamed at his own appearance, despising himself and repulse any human companionship. I felt bad for him. After all, who said he was ugly? Only society’s socially constructed ideas of “beauty” made him think that. It only took the right person to see the real him, and to see how beautiful he actually was. But I digress.

 Lifesavers-Guy came to the store less, probably because Purple-Monster-Girl still visited faithfully to get her energy drink and gum. She never put food with it, but I did get a few surprises. One morning I was just listening to 10-year-old Jess tell me about the latest Nancy Drew mystery she had read, in between mouthfuls of Skittles. Purple-Monster-Girl slipped in somewhere around the falling action. After Jess left, Purple-Monster-Girl placed her traditional energy drink and gum on the counter and then plopped down beside it a box of condoms. I said nothing, just looked at her. She wouldn’t meet my gaze. I rang through her order in what was supposed to be disapproving silence but I don’t know if she got the vibe. That was Saturday. The next morning I sold her more Advil.

 Three weeks later it was uncommonly crowded in my tiny store. Purple-Monster-Girl was coming in as Lifesavers-Guy was going out. Manoeuvering around her, he placed his hand ever so lightly in the small of her back, an unconscious, tender touch, but drew it back suddenly as though stung. A moment later she turned around to get her Monster from the cooler and I could see why. Her thin, tight shirt revealed every vertebrae in her back in sharp relief, clearly visible through flesh and fabric. I looked at her with sad eyes. She wasn’t the normal girl she was in June. Seven months had transformed her into an entirely different person, one who was quite evidently underweight. One who...was buying a pregnancy test. Heaven help us. I glanced quickly at her face, but her gaze was focussed somewhere past my left ear. I could only hope that I didn’t see her back here in nine months buying baby formula. After THAT experience, I examined all the labels on our condom boxes, and concluded that she should have bought the ultra-strong ones. They were 98.2% effective, which is a whole 1.2% more effective than the normal kind, but my faith in them was shattered forever.

 The next Saturday, everbody was buying boxes of Barbie valentines and candy hearts and Hershey kisses. But not Purple-Monster-Girl. I caught myself staring at her stomach, looking for a bump. I knew it was too soon, but I did it unconsciously anyway. She just looked as shrunken as ever to me. However, to my immense relief, this shopping trip featured a box of tampons. I actually had to restrain myself from sighing in relief.

 The ides of March rolled around and a lot of green was on sale everywhere. I saw garlands of four leaf clover and plastic cut-outs of leprechauns and the young and middle-aged elementary school teachers who bought them for their classrooms. And quite suddenly, Purple-Monster-Girl disappeared. Saturday morning when the bell tinkled I didn’t even look up, until I heard a much heavier footfall than what I was used to, and beheld a strange man in a suit buying Pepsi and a muffin. I waited and waited and waited. The end of my four-hour shift came and still no sign of her. Nobody made any utterance of where she was. They didn’t need to.

 Near the end of March, I served a woman whom I had never seen before. It wouldn’t be weird to me because I do that all the time, except for a striking resemblance to a girl who used to come in here all the time, and the fact that she was buying a purple Monster energy drink and a pack of Stride Spearmint gum. And did I mention this corner store JUST HAPPENED to be just over the hill to the hospital? The woman’s hair was disheveled and she bore unmistakable signs of fatigue in the shadows under her eyes and the droop of her shoulders. She spoke in hushed tones to the woman standing next to her, whom I assumed was her sister of friend. Completely unintentionally, I caught snippets of their conversation. “ ...still refusing to eat...heartrate dangerously low...better in time for prom...” As I handed her her receipt, I smiled at her and wished her a good day as sincerely as I could.

 That night, I tried to finish watching Beauty and the Beast but I only got as far as the dance in the ballroom and Belle wearing her beautiful yellow dress. I reflected that yellow doesn’t look good on many people. In the meantime, I knew the rose in the tower of the castle was wilting. Time was running out. This Beauty felt more like the Beast and I didn’t know if she would get to dance with her prince. This story of a girl and boy is shaping up more like a Shakespearian tale than a Disney movie after all.

 A couple weeks later, I looked up to see a tall, dirty-blonde boy enter the corner store. He didn’t pick up Nestea and Lifesavers this time. He went straight to the Monster cooler and picked out a purple one, then a pack of Stride Spearmint gum, then on the counter next to them he placed a greeting card. There was a cartoon Teddy bear on the front with a bandaid on his head and big bold letters above it: “Get Well Soon!” I wanted to say something, but what would I say?

 “I’m sorry your ex-girlfriend who dumped you because she’s sick and whom you’re obviously still in love with is in the hospital”

 Yeah, no, that’s a little creepy.

 I thought for a second, then threw caution to the winds and just said

 “How is she?”

 He looked up as though mildly surprised that I was speaking to him, and took a minute to process my question.

 “She’s doing better than she was.”

 I nodded. “That’s good.”

 Then he left.

 I remember clearly Saturday, April 28th Lifesavers-Guy came in my store again. He didn’t buy a single thing, just marched straight the counter and said

 “Can I show you something?”

 I was completely taken aback and slightly apprehensive. In the past, such a question had precipitated photos of cats in various attitudes of idleness, of school portraits of grandchildren, but I didn’t know what to expect from this teenager.

 “Sure.”

 He reached into his pocket and pulled out a photo. It was of a couple under an arch decorated with swaths of white tulle and flowers. He wore dress pants, dress shirt, vest and tie and she wore a beautiful yellow dress, a perfect fairy tale dress. I recognized the dark hair with caramel highlights and the smile I had seen the day they met – the same glowing smile like a child had said their first word. She still looked skinny but I could see signs of returning curves, like back in June when I described her as “Very Normal.”

 “That was at her prom last Saturday.” He said.

 I looked up at him. “She’s beautiful.”

 He smiled. “I know.”

 That night I went home and finally finished watching Beauty and the Beast.  As Belle and her Prince kissed at the end and fireworks went off, I reflected on how thankful I am that there are people in this world who know true beauty when they see it.

 You know that moment – when you step off the schoolbus in the afternoon, or when you shut your bedroom door behind you, or lie in bed at night, and just breathe deeply, finally completely alone – you know the person you are in that moment? That’s the real you, with all your true hopes and dreams and values. Nobody can watch you or judge you, or tell you what to do or who to be. You should be that person more often. Who cares what anybody thinks? Because I can promise you there is somebody out there who will love the true you. 

Who, me?

I would just like to throw it out there that if God can use me, God can use ANYONE. My friend once said something to me to the effect of “I wish I could be like you. You’re so amazing and spiritual and wise.” HA! We were texting, so to that I replied “L.O. - freaking - L.” And I told her exactly what I’m about to tell you…in less than 140 characters. You get the extended version.

My friend looks up to me, but she doesn’t see the insecurity, the fear, the lack of discipline, the pride, and all the GUNK that messes up the inside of my heart. She reminded me of an instance where I was giving her advice and she said that I said the exact right thing. I remember that particular moment very well. It was the moment where I was sitting there praying silently, “God, I have no idea what I’m doing, I’m way out of my league here, I really need your help! Give me the right words to say!” And He DID!

Not because I was worthy, but because I was willing.

See, we don’t have to have it all together before God can use us. We don’t have to be mature and confident and eloquent and spiritual and have great faith and know everything to be used by God. In fact, if we were able to minister to people on our own, what would the point even be? If we could witness to people all on our own power, what would we be witnessing about? There’s a verse in the bible that says “I will boast in my weakness because in my weakness, God’s strength is revealed.” Paul wrote it. And that’s the whole point. We can’t do this on our own and that’s the beautiful part where God’s holiness fills in all the gaps in us. In Him, we are whole.

So it’s not up to us to “convince” anybody of anything. Truth is truth, and we are called just to give it all to God and let Him flow through us. We need merely be the mouthpiece, and He will do all the work on their hearts, through His Holy Spirit. Doesn’t that take the pressure off? One pastor once said “I couldn’t save a blade of grass.” And it’s true, we can’t save anybody, God does that.

So my whole point is that no matter who you are and how bad you think you are, God CAN and WILL use you, if you’re willing.

A great resource I drew upon as part of my inspiration for this post was the message of pastor Brad Noel at a youth conference in 2010. He called his message “Lessons in FAITH from Doubters, Wimps, Jellyfish, Murderers and Whiners.” Here are some examples of Bible “Heroes” he gave who did great things for God, and definitely didn’t have it all together! Gideon was afraid and insecure. Elijah didn’t think he was spiritual enough. Peter denied Jesus in a moment of panic. King David was an adulterer and a murderer. John the Baptist felt that he couldn’t hear God’s call anymore.

As most of us probably know, these guys are prominent heroes and role models of the Bible. Gideon was always portrayed to me as a great warrior and leader. Elijah performed more miracles than any other prophet in the Old Testament. Peter founded the first early church with his oration skills. David was called “a man after God’s own heart”. John the Baptist seems like the ultimate example of selflessness and humility in his fervent witnessing. And yet, these guys weren’t superheroes! They were normal people, like you and me.

Finally, I can testify that if you ask God to give you the right words, whether you realise it or not, He will. You would be surprised how He uses the randomest stuff you say. Or do. I weep at the realisation that my words have actually made an impact on people. Because I know that it’s all God using me. And it’s so humbling. I can’t believe that God would use me, as messed up and undeserving as I am. I mean, I can’t even handle my own mortal life, let alone my own eternal life, and DEFINITELY not someone else’s eternal life! I need Jesus, and astoundingly, He doesn’t need me, but He wants me! And He actually sees me as something lovely, and something useful! I am so honoured that I am usable to God.

And like I said, if God will use me, He will definitely use you. The world sees your physical qualifications, but His eyes roam the earth, searching for a devoted heart. Faith the size of a mustard seed can move mountains. Have enough faith to stop trying on your own and give it all the God, and watch the mountains move as the Holy Spirit flows through you.

Dearest,

Look at the scars on your wrists. Now look at the scars on mine. On my wrists, on my head, on my back. Look at the blade in your hand. Now, do you see the thorns?  Do you see the whip? Do you see the nails? Look at your own blood you spilled. Now look at mine running down the rugged wooden tree.

Do you know how much I love you?

When you feel worthless, remember that I love you individually and personally. Every part of you is familiar to Me and I love you deeply no matter what. You are the apple of My eye. You are priceless to Me. You are so valuable to Me that if you were the only person ever in the entire world, I would have suffered every horror of the cross just the same. I died for you.

When you feel like a mistake, remember that I made you. I do not make mistakes. You are perfect exactly the way you are. You are My masterpiece. When I look at you, I see My wonderful creation, and I see your soul shining through. I see a beautiful vessel of My Spirit which I placed in you, a spirit of freedom, a spirit of victory, a spirit of power.

When you feel like nothing good could ever come of you, remember that when I created you, I had a specific purpose in mind, and a glorious plan for you life. I will use you to impact lives and to change the world in your own special way and I equipped you with the exact right skills, passions, talents and experiences to do it.

Again I ask you, do you know how much I love you?

Every pain you feel, ever drop you bleed, every tear you cry, I wish you did not have to. That’s why I went to the cross. I took every single heartbreak, every single addiction, every single mistake, every single negative thought about yourself on my shoulders on the cross. I felt everything you feel…

…So that you wouldn’t have to.

I was crucified in the most inhumane way possible. Unendurable agony for 6 hours. And then, God the father turned His back on me. Every sin of this world was laid on my shoulders and I was completely alone. All that you feel multiplied 6 billion times.

My child, I took all of your pain. I conquered all your addictions, all your self-hate and self-harm. I am Lord of life and death. I went down into the depths of Hell and came back. I won the victory on the cross, I bought your freedom. I went through it so that you don’t have to. You are free.

That’s how much I love you.

I want to give you LIFE  and life more abundantly! I want to wrap my arms of love around you and never let go. I want to blow your mind with the amazing plans that I have for you. I want to fill you so full of peace and hope and love and joy that you’re overflowing. Will you let me?

-Jesus

P. S. Put down the blade. I say you’re better than that.

Allow me to introduce myself.

Hey, my name is Katherine. I live in Newfoundland, Canada. I'm 19 years old. I'm in my first year of University, and I'm hoping to get accepted into the school of Pharmacy next semester. I'm a Christian, and you'll hear lots more about that later. Mainly, I am defined by the fact that God made me and Jesus saved me. I like writing, so that's what most of this is gonna be. Thoughts, rants, devos, stories, whatever. Welcome :) Ask me whatever, I don't bite. :)