Jesus Didn't Carry A Picket Sign

I have a past. Don’t we all? I have a not so glowing past. Much of my past I should have more remorse about, but… I don’t, mostly because 1. I had A LOT of fun and 2. I am what I am today in large part because of what I’ve experienced to this point – the good, the bad, AND the ugly.

Having said that, would I want others to live the life that I have lived? No. Would I want them to live a more holy life, without the consequences of sin that I have brought on myself? Yes. The question is, “How can I influence others in this world to live a better, holier, more God glorifying life than I have lived?”

One day, as I was driving to work, I came to an intersection that was lined with people. Each of these people was holding a sign. On these signs, there were statements, pleas, commands even. This particular group of people seemed to be peaceful. It seemed they were united to take a stand for something they strongly believed in, something I believe in.

Even in my agreement with what these people stood for, I was met with a sinking feeling in my heart and a sick feeling in my stomach. Even in my agreement with what these people stood for, I felt a sense of judgment, condemnation, even hate.

I was living a life absent of the type of sin I was once in. I had confessed, repented and been forgiven of the sins of my past. And yet, I felt as though I was personally carrying a cross through a mob of people holding signs and yelling “Crucify her!”

It was at that moment that I realized I would never carry a picket sign. I realized that people rarely come to redemption through a picket sign. I realized that Christ never carried a picket sign.

Christ lived a perfect and holy life. Christ led by example. Christ lived in relationship with others. Christ corrected the sinner but scolded the religious, the legalistic, and the self righteous, those who claimed to uphold the law for righteousness sake. Christ, loved.

A picket sign doesn’t build relationship. It doesn’t build trust. It doesn’t inspire change. A picket sign, doesn’t love.



Lord, help me to do my part to change the world for Your sake. Help me to live in the shadow of Your wings. Help me to dwell in Your beauty. Help me to inspire others for Your glory. Help me, to love.

Who Am I?

Who am I? Who do you want me to be?
If I could look through Your eyes, what kind of me would I see?

The above words are to a song I began to write several years ago and have yet to finish. I’m thinking the song, like discovering my true identity in Christ, will be a lifelong process.

You may be looking at my blog to get a little insight into who I am, or really what kind of person I am. You may be a potential friend, employer, stalker, who knows. For whatever reason you would like to know, I’d like to say, “good luck.” I’m not sure that you’ll get a clear sense of my being here, but it’s worth a shot.

Some have gotten the wrong first impression here in the past. For that reason, I’ve taken some of the more “controversial” entries off and am now trying to give a better-rounded picture of who I really am. (I know. I’m a sellout and it goes against what I said I would do in an earlier post. I don’t know, sue me? Kick me out of the “cool people club?” whatever.)

So, in quick summary, here’s a little synopsis of “who I am” as I understand it for now:

I guess I’m funny, or so they tell me.

I am sensitive. I get my feelings hurt at times, BUT I won’t admit it if it happens because that might say I’m weak, which I AM NOT. I am creative beyond my means. In my head I see visions of elaborate works of all kinds which I personally cannot create and no one else would want to. Because what I think, feel and see is so grandiose, elaborate, and complex, I am rarely able to communicate what is in my heart or mind, which makes relationships of all kinds very challenging. For the reasons above and more, I spend a lot of time alone, which is my preference. I’m working on it.

I love the Lord my God with all my heart, soul, mind and strength. I relate to Mary Magdalene. I have a deep appreciation, love and devotion for Jesus Christ who loves me so dearly that he died for my repulsiveness and yet looks me straight in the eyes, holds my face in His hands and expresses His undying love and admiration for me as if none of it ever existed.

As much as I relate to Mary, I relate to other great historical figures, such as Peter and Timothy. Like Peter, I can be filled so full with The Spirit that it flows out of me in ways I never thought possible in my own strength and others draw closer to the Lord through it. Like Timothy, I am timid and afraid to use the great gifts that I have been given. I long for my entire being to be used for the Glory of God. My mission is to radiate His beauty.

I look like someone who is vain, materialistic and liberal in my beliefs and actions. Much to the contrary, I am frugal beyond reason, very conservative and modest. I feel I have a platform to model and encourage purity, modesty and humility to others. I spend little to no money on clothes or health and beauty products. I am VERY selective about what I watch on TV or in movies and I am one of the few people left in this world who does not wear a 2 piece swimming suit. I have a sincere desire to illustrate to other women that it is VERY possible to “radiate His beauty” while being modest, conservative and good stewards. I am passionate about this to say the least.

I am “melancholy”, “dark”, “edgy” or whatever they’re calling it these days. What I mean is my artistic being is not likely to communicate in the language of flowers and smiley faces. I am thankful that God has gifted people to do that. I may be one of those people someday. For now, I tend to speak to the darker things in life while directing myself and others to the true source of light, Jesus Christ.

I have a past. Few people know it and fewer have ever heard me speak of it. However if you too have a past, you will find that my past has allowed me to have empathy and love for you as I guide you in the direction of the one and only Healer and Redeemer, Jesus Christ.

Finally, I am a woman of MANY words. I like to talk – and yet I’m willing to listen. I like to write – and yet I’m willing to STOP.

The Call

I got a phone call today; just your standard, run of the mill, professional service call. I handled it in the same fashion that I handle all calls of this nature. I checked the voicemail a day late, returned the phone call, left a friendly and concise message with my name and phone number clearly stated at the beginning and the end of the message, hung up, and then waited for my call to be returned.

The familiarity of the situation began to change when my call was returned. Not only did my phone actually function appropriately, announcing the call with a standard ring, which most phones are accustomed to doing, but it also rang long enough for me to answer while the party still remained on the line. This is far from familiar, routine, regular, or mundane. This is unusual.

The content of the call, the reason, the purpose, well that’s yet to be determined. Was it to make me physically ill, freaked out and not knowing what to do with myself? Was it to give me peace and contentment, and eventual healing? Was it to add another chapter to Amy’s Book of Life? Or possibly solve a mystery contained within it? Or even finalize the book so that the cover may be closed once and for all? Only God knows that.

So, “What was this call?” you may be asking. “What’s the big deal?” “Here she goes again, with her drama, drama, drama.”

See, the opposite is true actually. I’m opposed to drama. I hate it. I have an adverse reaction to it. Breaking a nail, I like. Having a flat tire, I can throw a fit over. But life, that I prefer to be drama free, ordinary, uneventful, emotionless.

So now I’m left with the task of keeping this just that. How do I stuff this? How do I feel nothing? How do I return it to the usual, the normal, the boring, the mundane? How do I fit this into casual conversation, meaningless chit chat? I’m just not sure.

So, I will choose to stuff it for now, place it in the deep dark closet, that is my soul, hiding it away so that no one can see and I can hopefully forget. Shoving and pushing to fit it amidst the cluttered mass of things place here before. Hoping the door will never open to have it all come crashing out, one “it” on top of another, falling and crashing, never to end until I am surely buried in it, broken and breathless.

What will happen when that day comes? Only time will tell, but for now, I think I’ll go get the duct tape.

It's a new day

Well, here we go again, attempt #???? at this whole “blog” thing. Not sure why it’s such a challenge for me. I think, I journal, I write. It seems a blog would be a natural for me. I think it’s because I think too much and then I write too much and then I think too much about the fact that I write too much and then I get tired, run out of time, or just don’t think anyone is going to want to read my ramblings. So, I don’t do it.

But… today is a new day. So, once again, I’m going to give it a shot!

Yesterday I turned 37 years old. Wahoo, yippee, yada, yada, yada. Well, you may know that I have stated for many, many years that I felt very strongly that I would die at the age of 36. It’s true. I’ve always had an “inkling” I would die at an early age. I picture my parents at my funeral. I picture myself young. At some point I attached the age of 36 to that “inkling”. Well it’s just been “one of those things” that has made me “unique” or “quirky” or “weird” over the years and we’ve all gotten a good chuckle over it.

I should also mention that I have a very “keen” intuition. In addition, I have a gifting that those of us who believe in it call “prophecy”. So, when you take intuition and prophecy and then throw in a good dose of discernment, you tend to get a pretty good sense of things that are to come, be it good or not so good.

Well, obviously I didn’t die at 36. So “you told me so” or “I was wrong” or however you want to put it. I can go into my whole theory about the 3% margin of error and God telling me He’d add another decade to my life and all that jazz, but I’ll save that for another post.

Instead, I’ll thank God for at least another day, if not another year, another decade, or another 37 years and I’ll leave you with some “musings”, “inspirations” or “random thoughts” have you about what I’d like to do in the years, months, weeks, days or moments I have left in my life. I’ll state that I have put absolutely no thought into this. This will not be based on wisdom, study, prayer, or anything scientific. This will just be a list of what is spoken to my heart, I believe from God, as I sit here and type this post.

So, here goes:

*I’m going to laugh more and scowl less. And not just a chuckle, giggle or a courtesy laugh, mind you. I’m talking a head back, mouth open, gut bustin’, pants peein’, cackle until you cry laugh.

*I’m going to think less and do more.

*I’m going to write thank you notes and “I’m thinking of you’s” on cute little note cards and mail them to people I like just because I feel like it, even though stamps cost money and snail mail isn’t cool anymore.

*I’m going to read more and watch TV less, even Mother Angelica.

*I’m going to receive love abundantly, so that I can give love abundantly.

*I’m going to say “I’m sorry” – first.

*I’m going to kiss my husband, even if he hasn’t brushed his teeth or has something gross hanging out of his nose. I’m going to stop what I’m doing and give him a hug when he wants one, even if it means dinner might burn or the laundry load won’t get switched.

*I’m going to have serious conversations with my daughter, even if it’s difficult and takes time and a short sarcastic comment will get the point across while making us both laugh and think I’m a “cool mom” rather than make us cry and admit I’ve made some pretty big mistakes, but that I love her am proud of her and am in it for the long haul, just as she’s been in it with me all these years.

*I’m going to dance!

*I’m going to be honest with my Dr, my therapist, my husband and my friends about how I feel physically and/or emotionally, even if it means I met get another pill that will undoubtedly make me fat.

*I’m going to stand up and look my Dr in the eye and say, “You’re crazy Mister!” just like I did when I had that concussion in the 2^nd grade!

*I’m going to cry – even if it kills me.

*I’m going to return phone calls – even if it kills me.

*I’m going to initiate phone calls! – even if it kills me.

*I’m going to take baby steps and do things in moderation – especially in the areas listed immediately above this.

*I’m going to say things that might not fit into the “box” of things that a stereotypical white suburban, conservative Christian, middle class American might say. When I do so, I’m not going to apologize for shocking someone, but I will apologize if I hurt someone.

*I’m going to use incorrect grammar. Because I like it! I know the rules. I went to school. My parents are teachers. I went to college. I’m a skilled writer. Sometimes it just flows better if you start a sentence with a “But”. To anyone it bothers… Loosen up! and consider it art!

*I’m going to spend more time with my parents and I’m going to drive the 45 minutes to them, even if it’s easier if they come to me.

*I’m going to buy something BEFORE I think about it for 30 days, or wait for it to go on super double closeout clearance or wait for my next birthday or next Christmas – even if I don’t make a lot of money anymore!

*I’m going to burp less because my husband thinks its gross, even if I think it is an amazing God given talent that I should showcase every opportunity I get!

*I’m going to make my daughter proud of me for who I am and what I’m going to do, rather than who I was, and what I did.

*I’m going to tell the story of my life like I actually experienced it, like I have a personal connection and emotional attachment to it, not like I’m a news reporter, blandly stating the facts – even if my face turns red, my voice cracks and tears stream down my face.

*I’m not going to worry about losing my mind and instead start using my mind.

*I’m going to write songs, stories, poems and anecdotes. I’m going to put them in a book and I’m going to let people read them, even if they suck.

*I’m going to draw, even though I can’t draw. I’m going to paint, even though I can’t paint. I’m going to learn to play the stupid guitar, even if it makes my fingers hurt and I have to cut my nails!

*I’m going to sing from my heart, even if the Holy Spirit or my own emotions cause my voice to shake or go out of key.

*I’m going to say something really stupid into a microphone and laugh at myself in front of hundreds of people – just for old times sake.

*I’m going to quit feeling like the best years of my life are over because I can’t drink, smoke, do drugs, be prom queen, do the splits or have a bare midriff anymore.

*I MIGHT die my perfectly good hair, even if it costs money, it has to be maintained, it’s frivolous and vain, I might never get it back to it’s original state and I am blessed to have naturally pretty hair.

*I’m going to get another tattoo – or 2, or 3, or…

*I’m going to wear a hoop nose ring, holey jeans and an 80’s hair band tee because I like it, even if it’s really not cool.

*I’m going to continue to smack my gum and chew my nails and fingers, even if its annoying to others and a bad nervous habit.

*I’m going to joyfully agree to watch movies my husband picks, even if the picture on the cover doesn’t catch my eye.

*I’m going to quit starting sentences with “I probably shouldn’t say this but…” and just not say it.

*I’m going to put my hair in pigtails and dance barefoot in a meadow.

*I’m going to dress like a hippie, even though I’m not one.

*I’m going to say things like, “You’ll have that.” And “That’s gonna leave a mark!”

*I’m going to quit making excuses and admit that I don’t want to try anything really exciting because I’m deathly afraid that it won’t turn out perfect or worse yet, I might fail!

*I’m going to be a student. I’m going to study God’s beauty in all it’s forms both formally and informally.

*I’m going to try to take in some of God’s beauty from the world every day and then put some of God’s beauty into the world every day.

*I’m going to take, or have others take, more pictures of me and my family, even if it’s a hassle to take the cameral, I feel awkward and vain asking for someone to take a picture of me, I’m not photogenic and I hate my nose.

*I’m going to give my husband and daughter more affection than my cats.

*I’m going to continue to talk baby talk to other people’s children, constantly reminding them that I talked baby talk to my own child all the time and she has always had an excellent vocabulary and very proper diction.

*I’m not going to tense up when my husband uses the word “y’all” when we are in Texas.

*I’m still going to tense up, but I’m not going to hit him and say, “Don’t you ever say that again!” when my husband uses the words, “yo, yo, yo.” I may simply remind him that if he gets shot by a thug or someone approaches him to purchase drugs or a prostitute that he brought it on himself.

*I’m going to purchase more Lil’ Wayne and less Big Daddy Weave on iTunes.

*I’m going to admit to myself and the rest of the world that I really do go tanning every year and not just because I need a “base tan” because I’m going on vacation and I burn

easy.

*I’m going to post things with typos and spelling errors because proof reading would take too much time and if I don’t post it now, I never will and it really doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things anyway!

*I’m also going to post things that are too long and wordy because to edit (insert excuse from above here) and assume that those that really want to read what I wrote will take the time to do so, regardless of how long it is and those who don’t, I completely understand, I wouldn’t waste my time either.

*I’m going to stop things abruptly, without a proper summary, conclusion, resolution or ending.

Today I am 37

I don’t know the story of my conception
Or the story of my birth
But I know there’s a God who loves me
And He decides my worth

There’s a reason that He put me here
And a purpose for my life
There’s a me He created me to be
Beyond a daughter, a mother, a wife

There’s something deep inside me
That He put in only me
And if I die without releasing it
There’s something that will never be

I don’t know what that something is
Who I am or what I am to do
But I know I better get to doing it
Before my life is through