Jail or free-wheeling inbreeding

i wrote this during lunch today. it's long, but worth reading.


She sits at the table in a crowd, but hopelessly alone. The other girls talk and giggle about their new lip-gloss or whom so-and-so is going with. She picks at her chicken sandwich, knowing that if she eats it, she will gain weight. Knowing that if she is seen eating, it will all start again.
Taunts and teases now fall on deaf ears. She’s heard them so often that she no longer recognizes faces or voices as individuals, but merely as an angry mob of her peers. Sometimes she cries. Of course, it’s never around anyone who could see or hear her.
She once stole away to the bathroom during math class, only to be found by a rude seventh grader who always said the precise thing this broken little hider never wants to hear.
“Skipping class there, Miss Piggy?,” asks the gangly, badly dressed seventh grader, who apparently hasn’t yet figured out that she herself lacks perfection. The acne spattered cheeks spread into a wide grin upon the mean girl’s realization that she has walked in on the little hider’s tears.
“Please close the door. I have a pass, I’m not skipping. Leave me alone,” retorts the hider, as she attempts to dry her face off inconspicuously.
“Yeah, well Ms. Sasser says you’re taking too long, and you better get your a** back to class, Pig,” the mean girl leaves in a huff, shocked that the hider even had the nerve to speak back to her.
The hider then gets up from the floor, washes her face and begins, hopelessly, to walk back to class. She knows she is going to have to face the looks and sneers of her classmates as she walks in red-faced and puffy. She doesn’t care anymore. She just found out she is moving away.
Fast-forward eight months. She is sitting in a classroom four hours from the lonely bathroom stall.
“So, Piggy, you want to come to our party? I have a farm. We like livestock. But watch out for my brother, he gets a little too friendly with the animals for my taste,” Bill’s words squirt out of his half opened mouth in a drawl that would make the cast from Mama’s Family look educated and refined.
“You know, why don’t you go f*** yourself, Bill. The only livestock around here is your fat a** mother, “ the quips come a lot more quickly to her now that she’s not known to be timid. Somehow, though, inside, she knows that it’s not her. The words are not hers. The thoughts are much deeper, much more mature than those of many of the fourteen-year-olds surrounding her.
She ponders why this is her fate in life. Why she, an attractive, not very overweight, talented, funny and intelligent girl has been targeted, now at three different schools, as being the receptor for such ridicule. She would like to think that she is above all of this. That she knows some secret about life. That middle school is not the end of the world. She tries to portray this image. She attempts to use her brain as a shield for her heart. But inside, the thing she longs for most, she can’t have: Acceptance.
Fast-forward two years. She picks at her carrot sticks and fat-free ranch dressing. She stands, disrobed, in front of the mirror. Her collarbone, shoulder bones and hipbones all visible beneath her pale skin. She stands to the side. Her mind doesn’t recognize the fact that she is ten pounds underweight for her frame. She can’t look into a mirror without seeing the face of Miss Piggy staring back at her. She examines her nose. The bridge is a little too wide, the bottom definitely too wide, and the nostrils too big. From the side, it looks upturned. She decides that when she has the money and freedom, a nose job will be her first venture.
Her world is a blur of color, smells, emotions. The only place where she can escape the shallow shell-person she’s created to fit in is in her journal. Apparently as long as she has a pretty face and finishes in the top five in pageants, gets the lead in the play, has a 4.0 GPA, and is active in church, people love her. Depth gets her nowhere. So she shelves it all. It doesn’t matter that she hates God, hates church and hates herself. It also doesn’t matter if she eats or not, she still sees herself as fat and undesirable.
The mind of a sixteen-year-old is a very frightening place. It’s been too long since I was there. Sometimes I forget how real the small stuff used to seem when it was the whole world to me. For years, my figure, my face, and my nose were sources of pain and confusion for me.
As a child, I was never taught to lack confidence. It never occurred to me to not be completely full of myself. I was a princess. I was a ballerina. I was an acrobat. I was a soldier. I was a teacher. I was whatever I wanted to be, whenever I wanted to be it. Somewhere along the way, the arrows of the enemy hit my idealistic and tender young skin with such force that they pinned me to the wall of the perception of the world. I fell prey to the lie that I was only as good as my peers said I was.
At some point I began to let this affect my eating habits, and I developed anorexia. I also pretended to be what everyone wanted me to be: Perfect. Such high standards are a far cry from the divine Grace I have come to know in recent years. Grace was a concept foreign to me, because it was one that people had never extended my way.
The journey between being that fragile, hopeless teen and becoming the strong, independent woman I am today was paved with failures, disappointments, a few joys, laughter, and many, many tears. I am grateful for each one. Growing up, becoming comfortable in my skin, and learning to love every feature of my not so perfect face has not been easy.
Just last week, my pastor spoke of how the Israelites were told by God to put down stones at the Jordan to serve as a memorial to where they’d been. They were not to forget the journey that got them to that point. So this week, I put down a memorial stone of my own. I decided that, after about six years of being unable to pierce my nose because of job and school situation, I would finally do it. I wanted to decorate the very feature of my beautiful face that was the source of so much grief in my early teen years.
I now have a beautiful reminder that no matter how confident I am, no matter how independent I become, I am still just a broken, fragile little girl in need of someone stronger than myself to hold me up. That’s where I came from, and that’s why I pierced my nose. I hope my story is an encouragement.

i thought about writing some prose about how i felt after sitting with a large group of upper middle class white people and hearing their takes on socio-economical diversity... but i wrote a few lyrics about it instead. it's a little cheesy, but it gets the point across. some things don't need metaphors and fancy language. if this required that, it would be a little ironic. and probably miss the boat on reaching who it should reach.

how long will it take for us
to realize that there is
life beyond a bank account?
and that if our rug
and our couch
don't match
the world won't end

when will we find the balance
between have and have not
and when will we realize that
this is not our home
this is not our home?

something's gotta change
just because i'm a child
of a king
does not make me
better than you
just because you
have more than me
doesn't make you
anything


what will it take
for me to realize
that what gets me from place to place
is not the car i drive
what stirs my heart
can't be seen on tv
or be bought in a boxed set
or comes buy one get one free

and i just don't understand
how the more i have,
the more i need

something's gotta change
just because i'm a child
of a king
does not make me
better than you
just because you
have more than me
doesn't make you
anything

i can't live my life
squinting away the ugly
i want in up to my elbows
up to my knees
over my head
drown me in reality
let me see.

Hello, good morning, how you been?
Yesterday left my head kicked in
I never, never thought that
I would fall like that
Never knew that I could hurt this bad

So this is the way that I say I need You
This is the way that I say I love You
This is the way that I say I'm Yours
This is the way, this is the way

learning to breathe
learning to crawl
learning that You and You alone can break my fall
i'm learning to live
awake and alive
learning to breathe in these abundant skies...

yeah, that pretty much sums up how i've been feeling the last few months. ever feel like you just live life below your potential? the danger: not caring that it's happening. i figure that's why God opened up this opportunity for me to go to the ukraine. fewer distractions. i need to be broken so badly. man, i can't figure out how He can choose to use me like he does. i wander SO far off from His path, but BAM i'm always finding myself smack in the center of His will.

i heard a sermon that really ticked me off sunday. the pastor talked about saul and david and said that we are like magnets... i.e. saul, was a sinner and was like a magnet turned to the same pole and as he pursued his destiny, he pushed it away b/c of his sin. but shining perfect david was like opposite poles b/c his destiny pulled him.

somehow i think the pastor missed the boat.

david was a messed up dude. just as sinful as saul. the difference: a repentent heart. yeah, he left that part out. he made david out to be a saint and saul a sinner. truth be told, they were both pretty wretched just going on deeds. the difference is that saul never saw problems with his sin, telling partial truths to God, etc. david very much knew when he fell. and he repented, and often paid the consequences.

i hope i'm never able to fall without acknowledging my failure. the moment i do that is the moment i'm farthest from God. and man, just feeling an inkling of that has devastated me in the last few months. i never want to be so far gone i don't hear the holy spirit chastening me anymore. i pray that God will always help me to have a teachable and repentent spirit. b/c man, i sure can screw up with the best of 'em. :)

"jennifer, if you don't stop being so silly and giggling all the time and being loud, no one will ever take you seriously, and no one will ever want to marry you. "

them's fightin' words.

but i heard them last week from a beloved extended family member. stung me a little. in fact, it stung me a lot. i took them to heart for a day or two. i really had to think it over. my reaction right off the bat was "well, maturity is not determined by behavior, or vice versa. the difference between myself and the adults who have corn cobs stuck up their butts is not 'maturity' it's the presence of a corn cob."

and then i reconsidered, then i re-reconsidered. i'm pretty set that the way i am is the way God made me. why would i want to change that? i'm capable of adapting to norms when necessary, but why be like that all the time? it's not me. if psalms is correct, and i'm "fearfully and wonderfully made" then wouldn't that include my inclination to laughter and joviality? i think so.

in my career, the kids take me seriously. my administrators definitely take me seriously (and have expressed that they will miss me greatly when i leave for the ukraine). there are a few teachers who have a bit of disdain for my methods, but, again, we're separated by that whole corn cob thing. :)

and as far as finding a husband, you know what, if i'm having a laughter filled life, which i enjoy and make the most of... if that scares off or does away with the possibility of finding a husband (which if those butt-cob people are the types looking for me, they can stay away!) then what have i lost? i hope every wrinkle i gain, every sore stomach muscle i have, is derived from hearty and genuine laughter. i hope that my facial muscles are strong from smiling. i hope i am always able to see the humor in every situation. i hope i can always cope with joy. and if that bugs anyone else, and they're not up for joining in, i hope they find someone else to bother! :)

in the midst of a heated debate about gender roles in marriage and the purpose of opposite gender friendship, i realized something very VERY frightening...


i'm MOVING TO THE UKRAINE.....

yeah, it was completely the moment it hit me. had nothing to do with the conversation at all. i'm going to another country. for almost ten months. i'm not going to see anyone i know except at christmas and sara's wedding. i'll be somewhere that only has nine days a year where the temp is over 85 degrees, and where the general population does not speak the same language as me. i'll be somewhere that formerly had churches meeting in basements with fragments of bibles because the government disallowed religion. i'll be in a place where several years ago, a nuclear meltdown caused many people to be born deformed and the ones already born to die. i'll be in a place where formerly, medical care and food were not necessesities, but rather luxuries most could not afford. i'll be in a place where people will be hard to build relationships with because they were raised to keep all originality at bay because it was against the law to speak out about anything.

wow.

my biggest prayer is that in going here, not only will i be a minister of the gospel, but that God will change me. i get so caught up in the "american way" i rely on money, not God. i look at the bill that says "in God we trust" and see the irony. i enjoy my nice house, my nice furniture, my nice car, and my cushy job. i still have the ability to turn my head and avoid the undesirable things in society. i want to get to the place where i no longer desire those things. where they are completely expendable. i want to keep looking when society tells me to turn away. more than that, i want to touch, feel, hold the hand of the ones who no one else will love. i want God to break my heart and show me that what i've been living in is not, in fact reality for everyone, and that i have been blessed beyond measure.

i want to look around me and rather than seeing what i've grown to know as everyday life, for what it is. i want to be able to look at a life similar to the one i'm in now and have no attachment or overwhelming fondness for the material things. i want to realize that they all pass away. and that reality is much more than what is tangible. i think that God will use this to do many of those things. and in doing so, will make me a much more worthwhile addition to His kingdom, b/c the love He's placed inside of me won't have a filter to flow through anymore. that is my desire. i want to love the world the way that Christ loves us. and i want to love Christ the way that He loves me. and if it takes moving to another country and experiencing a major paradigm shift, bring it on. i'm ready.

i'm sitting here, right on the edge of change. it feels so ominous, but looks very beautiful. i've made public some intentions i have for the upcoming months (to my friends) and will soon professionally as well. strange the circumstances are that i find myself in so often, that seem so huge, and not at all what i deserve. i look back on my high school years, the self-righteous judgemental perfectionist i was, then to the underachieving spiritually lackluster slacker i became, and to recent months at what a fallen and fragile creature i'm shaping into, and i think, "man, God, are you sure you want to use me for ANYTHING at all?"

it's in those times, when i REALLY realize my weaknesses, that i see how they are used to glorify God. i'm reminded that he could find one of those magazine-perfect women who say and do the right thing all the time, while maintaining perfect posture, an impeccable sense of style and who are full of charisma. but you know who he's using to do my job? me. and i'm realizing why. it wouldn't be such a big deal for him to use the afore mentioned women. they're already practically perfect anyway. they'd just be obedient. but it's in their own strength... to use me... well, that takes strength only God can provide. :) it's a bigger testimony to his abilities when he uses someone who's as messed up as i am. and i'm glad He thinks so too. and quite frankly, i'm glad i'm a messed up person, b/c it means i'm just like everyone else in the world. :0)

it's amazing how you can speak right to my heart
without saying a word, you light up the dark
try as i may i could never explain
what i hear when you don't say a thing

the smile on your face lets me know that you need me
there's a truth in your eye saying you'll never leave me
the touch of your hand says you'll catch me if ever i fall
you say it best when you say nothing at all.

all day long i can hear people talking out loud
but when you draw me near you drown out the crowd
old mr. webster could never define
what's being said between your heart and mine.


you know, i think God is sorta like this. i always hear him better when He's not talking. :) sometimes i think he wants me to use my brain to figure out what he's trying to say. i.e. He is just quiet and lets me go on my own for a bit. and i always learn more from my mistakes than from my correct decisions. i dunno how all that relates biblically, but i think often God uses sin and ridiculous decisions we make to give us a non-example of obedience so we know what obedience really looks like. all i know is that i am so blessed to serve a God who can say nothing at all and still say everything to me. :)