Annal 108: Tale from Rachel and Leah

I hope you have all had a wonderful holiday, as I know I have.  I feel thoroughly spoiled this Christmas--my brother and sister-in-law decided to use their airmiles and send me to visit my cousin a few provinces over for my reading week.  Talk about exciting!!!

Yesterday I drove out to visit one of my closest friends in a nearby town--who, by the way, gave me an amazing present.  She took a poem I had written as a Facebook status a little while ago, and put it with a picture she had taken that matched.  She then put this picture in a frame for me.  Definitely the closest I have ever come to feeling famous!

On my way there I decided to listen to a Tim Keller podcast.  It was entitled "The Struggle of Love" and was about the story of Jacob, Rachel, and Leah.  This has always been a favourite story of mine because Leah is my favourite Bible character.  My heart always went out to the woman who was unloved.  My favourite part of the story was that God saw her heart and her rejection and He honoured her.  She was the ancestor of Jesus, not Rachel the loved.

But that wasn't what Keller's sermon was about.  He was talking about how each of us feel like we are missing something in our lives, or like we have been robbed of things we want, and so we are constantly searching for something that will redeem us, that will save us, that will make us feel valued and loved.  Jacob had just run away from home where he had tricked his father and robbed his brother.  He meets Rachel who is apparently a total babe and wants to marry her.  He even works seven years for her.  He goes through with his wedding only to wake up in the morning and discover that he was married to Leah... not Rachel. 

Leah is unloved.  So she tries to find meaning by having children.  With Reuben, her first son, she says "Surely my husband will love me now" (Genesis 29:32).  She has Simeon and again talks about her misery.  With Levi, her third, she says "Now at last my husband will become attached to me" (Genesis 29:34).

Then something happens.  Somehow there is a change, and this change occurs with the birth of Judah, her fourth son.  With him she says, "This time I will praise the Lord" (Genesis 29:35), and then she stopped having children.

Keller talks about how each of us is searching for a "Rachel."  We are looking out for some sort of an ideal that will make us feel important, make us feel like we are worth something.  For Jacob this was the real Rachel.  For Leah it was her children.  The problem with looking for a "Rachel" is that we always wake up in the morning to discover what we have is a "Leah."  We look to jobs, people, sex, whatever to complete us, and for a brief moment it seems like those things will complete us.

But they don't.

Leah made a decision to praise the Lord, to focus on Him, and when that happened her identity stopped being tied up in her children and what her husband thought of her.

What I find interesting about this story is that Leah doesn't learn to praise God and then everything goes swell for her.  By the next chapter she is feeling threatened by her younger sister yet again and having more children--again with the hope that her husband will honour and love her.

I think we are all like that.  We all look to other people or things to make us feel important.  And then for some of us we come to that realization that those things will not complete us.  Only God can do that.  That doesn't mean life is just swell after that--we will still struggle.

I think with Christian singles this is an especially huge issue.  We are told to wait for "the one" and end up with this idealistic dream that "the one" is going to save us, complete us, make everything perfect.  We are waiting for a "Rachel."  The problem with that is that no human being is ever going to complete you--and that is a lot to expect of someone. 

I am also reading The Meaning of Marriage by Tim Keller right now (my dad read it and felt I had to read it too).  He talks about this concept of "the one" in it as well.  A very common view of marriage is that of finding someone who will complete you.  But this is wrong.  Even if you find someone who seems to fit the bill, the fact of the matter is that not so long after you get married you will notice that both of you will change--and suddenly you aren't that same person anymore.

These are things I wish people had've told me growing up in youth group.  I wish there had've been more of a focus on finding your identity in Christ.  The truth is, in the last few months He has made me feel more valued and loved than any man has ever done so.  I have dated and have felt special but what happens when it ended?  My self-esteem took a flying leap over the edge of a cliff and was dashed on the rocks below. 

But that doesn't happen with God.  In the last few months He has shown me an acceptance and a beauty that I have  never found elsewhere.  And the best part about it is that He doesn't change, so I know it's not going to be a situation where He gets to know me a little bit better and then decides He doesn't love me anymore.  He knows me better than I know myself and loves me anyway.

I suppose what I am trying to say is don't look to other people or things to be your "Rachel" because it won't be long before you realize that what you have is a "Leah."  It is only in saying "This time I will praise the Lord" and living that out, that your life finds the meaning you are searching for.

Such is the life of a Christian single.

Annal 107: Tale from the Sculpture

I can remember once coming up with a description of my appearance that while sounding somewhat self-deprecating I felt was quite true.  I figured that God is this sculptor and sometimes He creates these sculptures that are universally accepted as beautiful.  You just can't deny it.  And sometimes you get a me--what I would classify as an experiment.  "Hmm... what would happen if I combined a wide nose with flaring nostrils with wavy blond hair?  And then gave her this medium bone structure and short waist?  Now I could give her big boobs to offset this kind of build, but why would I do that?  But I'll give her some decent looking calves."

I'm sure this isn't exactly what God was saying when He formed me--although it could be!

I hadn't thought of this for a long time.  And then this afternoon it came back to me.  I had met a friend downtown for coffee and was walking home.  The sun was setting, there was a nip air, and I thought it was just the most beautiful of evenings. 

A little while ago I had referenced Oscar Wilde in a Facebook status and his take that beauty is determined by the critic.  A friend had asked me about my view on this.

For whatever reason I was mulling this over on my sunset walk home.  Is beauty subjective?  Are we the ones who determine whether something is beautiful?  If we determine something is not lovely, does that mean it's not lovely?

So while thinking this over I remembered my view of me as an experimental sculpture.  And suddenly some pieces began to fall into place.

I've described several times how I will go for walks and feel like I am remembering something I have never quite known.  But there is another sense I have had over the last few months.  And it has been about myself.  I've been gradually realizing who I am and hitting a point where I have felt comfortable in my own skin.  As if I have been remembering a beauty I never quite knew.

My take on the subjectivity of beauty is that everything is beautiful.  But each of us appreciates different aspects of it.  I find the stark bareness of the tundra beautiful.  A brooding, overcast sky is breath-taking.  I love snow.  But not everyone finds that beautiful.  Does that mean it isn't beautiful?  In my 20 questions blog one question asked if I preferred Norman Rockwell or Picasso.  I said Rockwell.  Does that mean that Picasso isn't beautiful?  Who am I to determine what is beautiful and what is not?  But I know that I appreciate different things, and find beauty in some things that others do not.

I began to apply this to myself.  I know I am not the sculpture that everyone looks at and agrees is the epitome of beautiful.  But does that mean I am not beautiful?

For so long all I wanted was affirmation.  I longed for others to tell me I was beautiful.  But I think God has been slowly teaching me that I can't do that.  I have begun to realize that I do have a beauty.  Maybe it is not a universal beauty, but that doesn't mean I don't possess a beauty.

It makes me sad that it has taken so long for me to realize this.  I think of the years I spent leading youth and young adults, telling girls that they were beautiful and that their beauty was not determined by what people did or didn't say to them.  But I never got it myself.

Until this afternoon.

I don't think I have ever met a woman who didn't suffer with bouts of low self-esteem.  And I wish with all my heart that they could realize what I realized this afternoon.  That they could know that they are beautiful.  And while they may feel, like me, that they are more of an experimentation sculpture, that does not for one second mean they are not beautiful.  Maybe not everyone appreciates the art that is them.  But that does not determine their beauty.  Their beauty is there.  They have a grand Sculptor who looks at them with pride.  And there will be those who appreciate their beauty.  But that does not determine it.

Such is the life of a Christian single.

Annal 106: Tale from all my Children

You know that scene in that book or movie where the heroine returns home and all of the older ladies of her church/community ask her about her love life or when she is going to have children?  Well I got to have my own variation of that last night.

My home church was having a spaghetti dinner fundraiser for its tweens group.  They did a lovely job of serving and the food was quite tasty (and this is coming from the woman who was sick on spaghetti as a child and as a result has a psychological dislike for the food--I can eat it and my tastebuds will tell me it is yummy, but my brain will tell me I don't like it).  My pastor's little girl was carrying around a baby doll throughout the evening and for some reason decided I was the only person present capable of taking care of this doll for her.  She would randomly appear at the side of my chair and hand me her doll.  I then had to cuddle it and give it back.  She stopped doing this just in time for another little girl to come up to me.  This darling motioned to a little boy who was running around and asked me if he was mine.  After pointing out his real mother to this girl, she too decided I needed a child.  She went off in search of a different baby doll and would repeatedly give this child to me to watch as well.

So for whatever reason, everything about me last night screamed motherhood.  I hadn't realized I seemed to maternal!

I then returned home after the banquet and my one brother and sister-in-law had come over to celebrate my dad's birthday.  My sister-in-law pulled out a box of mints, handed them to me, and told me she saw them and thought of me.

And so I thought I should share the image with all of you!  Every time I looked at the package last night I couldn't help but break out laughing!

And so thus far I am really enjoying being home for Christmas.  I had only a brief moment of true awkwardness when I ran into a friend at the grocery store who appeared to really not want to chat with me... at all.  Making the decision to leave the church I left last year definitely has impacted relationships I had through that church, and while that is hard and I sometimes feel as if I am walking around with some sort of scarlet letter on me, the adjustment to being back has gone smoother than I thought it would.

I am convinced that one day I will right a story based on some of these experiences, and by golly the co-worker who is convinced it is some great evil that I am single and the little girls who want me to have babies will make their way into this story!

Such is the life of a Christian single.

Annal 105: Tale from the Toothbrush Song

I have returned home.

You know in the movies when the main character returns home for the holiday and there is a strange sense of foreboding mixed with excitement?  They are excited to return home and see their family and friends, but at the same time they know they have changed, that others have changed, and that in some cases there are friendships that will never be the same?  Definitely how I was feeling when coming home.

That being said, my excitement FAR outweighed any foreboding and so far being back has been wonderful.

Highlight?

Brushing my teeth with my oldest nephew after dinner.  We’re in the bathroom, him standing on the toilet and me beside him, both of us brushing and looking at each other.  I finally let out a “You brush your teeth, ch ch ch ch, ch ch ch ch ch” (please tell me other people out there know the teeth brushing song).  The best part was that he learned this song in kindergarten this year so he started singing a “When you wake up in the morning at a quarter to five...”

What followed was an amazing duet with the two of us singing the song and then pushing our cheeks together for the “ch ch ch” part.  It was pretty cute!

I then took my youngest sister to work and stopped by the deli.  I told them I would work the 23rd and 24th to help out with trays.  After being told that they haven't yet decided at what ungodly hour to have me come in (I think I hear a couple of graveyard shifts calling my name), I had another co-worker announce her pregnancy and another lean over the counter and none-too-quietly ask, "So, do you have a boyfriend yet?"

I love how she makes sure she asks this song in front of a group of guys.  The subtlety of some people, eh?  After assuring her that the majority of guys who are in my classes are multiple years younger than me and that I was indeed still single, I laughed and headed out.

And now I'm sitting in my parents' living room, typing away to all of you.  I had a nice visit with my dad while he cooled down from his workout, and my sister is currently reading some John Grisham on the couch.  The Christmas tree is lit, music is playing in the background, and I can see through to the backyard where the trees are strung with white lights. 

It feels good to be home, even if I know that whenever I'm at the deli a certain co-worker will no doubt be thrusting me into the arms of any man who happens by, no matter their age, hair line, or how many of their teeth they are still in possession of.

Such is the life of a Christian single.

Annal 104: Tale from Candy Cane Lane

So today was the day my sister and I have been waiting for for the last few weeks.  We both finished exams and so spent the day in almost complete relaxation.  First we had to go shopping this morning to grab a few last minute things before we head home tomorrow.  After that we just sat in each other's company chatting while we both played video games (we are so cool).  The highlight of the day?  What we did this evening.

At about five o'clock we hopped in the car and drove to Starbucks where we both got the Christmassy drinks of our choice (yes, another Peppermint Mocha for me).  We then headed over to Candy Cane Lane.

This is an area of several streets here that go all out when it comes to decorating for Christmas.  And we are talking ALL out!  My personal favourite was the home with Santa keeping watch over baby Jesus.

So we sipped our drinks and walked along the streets--with Flat Stanley, of course!

If you look close you will notice some snow on my one pant leg.  This was a result of my grace and poise.  As my sister and I turned onto one street my feet went out from under me and I was on the ground.  Amazingly enough, I didn't spill any of my drink.  But I do have some very wet pants thanks to this occasion!

Honestly, I could have walked the streets forever.  The snow was falling, the weather was brisk but not too cold, and the number of times I wanted to hold out my arms and start spinning beneath all of the lights were too many to count.

It was a wonderful end to a perfectly relaxing day, a day where you just feel that joy that is meant to be present this time of year.

Even if it did involve me falling in an ungraceful flop on the ground.  Thanks, Lord, for another reminder of my foible that has not yet thrust me into the arms of waiting man... Flat Stanley excluded ;)

Such is the life of a Christian single.