This Is Beautiful You

There are two blog posts that I read every single Sunday, usually before I leave for church (but not today because I woke up late and blahhh) that continually remind me of the beauty of people. The first is This Is Beautiful You on Single Dad Laughing. Dan posts pictures every week of people. Just people. People with their kids or their friends or their nephews and nieces or with strangers just being beautiful. Beautiful, beautiful people. People of all different walks of life. People whose lives are radically, astoundingly different, but we're all united by this crazy thing called humanness.

The second one is PostSecret. Many of you know it, I'm sure, but for those of you who don't, it's a collection of postcards with people's secrets. Their deepest, darkest secrets. Some of them are simple, seemingly meaningless. One this week just said: My left foot is bigger than my right. Some of them are inspiring. There is a distinct "raw" quality to them. A distinct vulnerability about people throwing their secrets out for all the world to see.

Today, though, I didn't read either of them before I left the house. But as we stood during worship, I got my own "This Is Beautiful You" moment. I was looking around the sanctuary, and seeing all the people. Everyone looked different. Some had their arms thrown up in worship. Some just looked bored. Some were just quietly taking everything in.

And as I saw this, I was reminded of a simple truth that gives me the greatest hope for the world: When you take down the walls and really look at it, we're all in the same place. Standing before our Father, trying to make sense of the world we live in and the world we're headed to. Trying to figure out this guy we call "God." 

That's where we were today. Standing before our Father, reaching for His love and His embrace. We're all broken, and all beautiful. All creations of someone beyond our comprehension. Created to create. Created to love. Created to discover.

I'm finding the more I fall in love with God's human creation, the easier it is for me to fall in love with their Creator. The more I fall in love with this creation, the more truth I see in Paul's letter to the Galatians:

"So in Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith,  for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. If you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s seed, and heirs according to the promise."-Galatians 3:26-29

There are no more divisions between us. <3 We all are one in Christ. We are all creations, and all beautiful. 

This is beautiful you.

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Living with The Virus

This week I feel like my computer.

My computer has been infected (though I feel like "infected" is too soft of a term for it. Pillaged feels like a much better term) with this hideous virus that keeps me from being able to do much of anything.


The virus managed to masquerade itself looking exactly like my virus program, at first. So when I was half asleep, and what looked like my virus program showed up and said I had a virus and needed to do a scan, I said "okay.." and went with it.

What ensued has been a miserable rollercoaster of not having my computer.

This is what the virus does. The virus makes itself look like its a virus protection program. So when my computer starts up, it tells me it's opening in "Safe Mode" because the virus that it says I have is going to take over the OS (operating system, for those of you who don't know anything about computers..).

Every time I try an open an application, it shuts it down, saying that it's too much of a risk.

So, as I'm sitting in my bed last night, trying to make my poor computer work, when it dawns on me, that this is about how my mind has been working.

I've always said that my mind has "locks" on it. Things that I just can't bring myself to do, for no other reason that someone, somewhere, said that I shouldn't do it. So I don't. There are outfits that I love that I won't wear because someone, somewhere, said I shouldn't. So I don't. They're stuck in my closet because I won't get rid of them, but I won't wear them either. There are songs that I don't sing and movies that I don't watch and places I don't go and people I don't talk to and paths that I don't cross and questions that I don't ask for the exact same reason.

It makes me wonder how long my mind has been infected with this virus. How long have I not done all of these things that I would really love to do, because of this virus.

Part of me doesn't even want to post this blog because something in my head says I shouldn't.

I'm tired of living my life with the virus.

I'm tired of having everything in my head dictated by someone else's voice.

I'm going to listen to the music I want to listen to. Read the books I want to read. Watch the movies I want to see. Say the things I want to say. And live the life I want to live.

Why?

Because this is my life, and I can do whatever I want.

Now.

I'm going to go play pool for a little while, with really loud music playing on the stereo.