[Broken, Lifehouse]

I won't write a super long post, because for no apparent reason I'm really irritable today (I blame it on the hot weather and the fact that I'm ridiculously sunburned on my chest and scalp from my outside lunch on Thursday).  I try to be careful about writing when I'm not particularly jovial because I tend to be a real jerk.  [Edit: I'm a few paragraphs from finishing and I lied, because this ended up being (yet another) long one... but I've managed to avoid being a jerk, so I think we're all good ;) ]

But I do want to clarify something, because it's been nagging at me to get it said.  My last post was certainly honest, and even my husband was amazed that I dare to admit the thoughts that run through my head, so (self) destructive they are.  I know from responses I've received (via comments and e-mail and the like) that many people have similar struggles, and it is encouraging to know I'm not alone.  

That said, I am not certain it was clear that some of the darker thoughts that plague me,  namely the insecurity / no one wants me around beasts, aren't things I think are actually true.  I've been thinking a lot about this, because I've always kind of assumed that the difference between head and heart is that your head, typically more logical, contains what you know, and your heart, infinitely more emotional, holds what you believe.

The assumption, then, is that if you don't get your heart on the same page as your (oh-so-much-the) wiser head then you are in trouble because the heart determines how you live your life.  This is partially true, I think, because as the Bible dictates in Proverbs 4:23 "the heart is the wellspring of life" which essentially means that we live out what is in our heart.  

My error has oft been in thinking that if I have a bad thought, even once, then it defines me.  I define my college years, for example, as me being insanely insecure and waiting to be hurt.  But, as goes the complexity of life, it's not that simple.  I also had many times where I was secure in who I was, how my friends felt about me, etc.  I knew I was loved-- college was the first time I ever learned what unconditional love felt like, such were the amazing relationships I had.  I tend to be so black and white... if I gaze up on my college years as a piece of art, a canvas displaying a plethora of colors, and then note the negative black vein that peeks in and out of everything else I abruptly decide to take a gallon of black matte paint and douse the entire thing.  I'm that convinced one part of me, be it dominant or subtle, defines me.

Really, I think much of what I experienced in my college church is at the helm on this one.  One issue- sort of serious had it ever become more, but overall honestly not something to revolve one's life around- defined me and as I mentioned in my last post, I wasn't just paranoid- my "indiscretions" (laughable to call it that, and someday I'll stop being so cryptic but I'm not quite there yet) were discussed at length in numerous staff meetings.  I walked away convinced that the only way to grow is to figure out the worst thing about me and then to beat myself into submission (to whom, I don't know... it wasn't exactly based on Jesus) in order to conform to what a "good" Christian looks like.  I haven't always been able to believe that Paul's and Peter's are equally loved by God.  

This brings me to my point- what didn't quite come out clear is that I don't actually believe that my college friends don't care about me, or that most people who say they love me are waiting to finally have an excuse to say saynonara and cut all ties.  Terms like head and heart are more akin to spirit-led wisdom and emotions-based foolishness.  Yes, foolish is a harsh term, but honestly many of those insecure thoughts are based on the deeply rooted lie that no one- Jesus included- can love me.  This allows me, then, license to live how I want because if Jesus doesn't love me then what's the point of obeying Him?  This is prime foolishness, really the ultimate prideful act that denies Christ.  That's Foolishness with a capital F, because it's the exact opposite of submitting to Christ.  

Instead of being filled with peace and joy I tumultuously tumble (that's a fun alliteration... gotta remember that one) down, down, down an endless pit in the House of Tami.  The HoT is pretty much an outhouse (have I ever mentioned my desire to start a rock band called Honey Bucket? because now isn't really the best time...) and, really, who chooses to set up residence in the rancid squalor of an outhouse when they could be living in their Father's mansion?  Apparently, I do.  Not all of the time, but frequently enough that I'm used to the stench and find it rather tolerable.

This creates quite a quandary.  When I'm being led by my emotions (the negative ones, at least... I'm not making the case that emotions are inherently evil; they're not.  Being created in the image of God means that He, too, has emotions, only His aren't sinful whereas ours are tainted by sin and thus can lead to badness), choking on the sewage that drowns me, the thoughts of insecurity and distrust, it's not pretty.  Understatement?  Yes.  But conventional wisdom says just don't go there! Don't get caught up in the badness!  When you smell rotten feces on the horizon run far, far away!  Were I perfect, no longer a sinner, I sure would, believe you me.  

So, until I'm perfect (aka dead to this world and in the presence of Jesus) I'll likely continue to struggle with emotional thoughts rooted in sinful insecurity.  The fact that I have been burned, along with the negative things I see in myself , will fuel the fire and I'll temporarily drown myself in the defecation that is sin-led emotions.   The only options are to either be honest about it or try and pretend I'm so deeply into Jesus that I'm no longer a sinner, as thus incapable of struggling with such things anymore.  Option B is pretty much the path that leads directly to hell, no passing go and no collection of $200, so I'll keep on with the first one.  

I hope, though, that it's clear that while horrible thoughts do still happen, I'm not saying they're true and when I'm able to get away from those more emotional moments I know that I am loved and people aren't out to get me.  Sure, people will still hurt me, because they're every bit as much a sinner as I am, but I consciously choose to believe that, for example, my friend SH wasn't leaving me out of the pregnancy talk to be spiteful and mean, but that she simply respects my stated intentions of not having babies for 2-3 years.  If somehow I'm wrong and she really does have it out to erase me from our college foursome then she would need to do something that actually merits a change of mind on my part, like telling me that she hates me and I'm not her friend.  Beyond that, which I am so certain will never happen that I can say the word never, I chalk it up to being honest about my struggles but not as something anyone else did wrong.

That probably is as clear as a bucket of hot fudge, because I went on so long and chased down every remotely related tangent, but I hope that helps explain the actual process I'm in.  I know my emotions need to be surrendered to Christ more and more the longer I know Him, but I also know that we all have those struggles and my being honest about them is what spurs me on to rely more heavily on Jesus to change me, and the beauty of a good and loving God is that He uses my depravity and subsequent repentance to encourage others in His pursuit of them.

One last thing: I really am sunburned.  Here's a picture to prove it.  I put sunscreen on my face because I have face moisturizer that is 45 SPF... I didn't, however, consider the idea that we might eat outside in the sun so I didn't think about my scalp (where my part is) and my chest... my shirt wasn't even low cut, but the sun hit at an angle from slightly east of the middle of the sky, and I was facing pretty much due north, so my right side of my chest is just fried (left side in the pic below).  This is even after like 4 applications of aloe vera AND I took it yesterday like 30 hours after the actual sun exposure.  Stupid sun.

By the way, this is with zero alteration of color.  It's really that red... and I'm really that white.You can even see how the reddest part is sort of bubbled up... that's how badly I burn.  This was from like one hour of sun, probably a little less.  

ONE HOUR! 

Oy vey, no?  I know that slow exposure would build up a resistance but I just don't like the sun that much so I stay out of it, and usually if I know I'll be in it I just slather on tons of sunscreen and cover up as much as is tolerable (being fat helps with that one, too, because showing off my chub isn't really a good time for me) and try to stay in the shade when I can.  

Anyway.  I'm done now.