A most meaningful endeavor

My studies leave me no time for blogging as much as I'd like, or at all; this is old news. And yet, a recent assignment for my Developmental Psychology class made me smile. For those who have been wondering exactly what the heck I'm talking about every time I refer to ultrasounds, pregnancy tests, or an illusive-sounding "clinic," now you'll know.

"Life Center is a non-profit organization that provides counseling and resources to young mothers and pregnant women free of charge. Although I had already decided to begin volunteering at Life Center prior to this assignment,  I saw this as an opportunity to reflect on my early experiences there. Conveniently but coincidentally, lay counseling is right in-line with my career goals of becoming a counseling psychologist.

            After many hours of watching videos, mentorship, and direct observation, I am now able to assist women in making informed decisions regarding their unplanned pregnancies. When a woman comes to us for clothes, diapers, or an ultrasound, I first sit down with her in a private room and invite her to express her current feelings and concerns. I offer her food-for-thought about her baby and practical information to help her with her immediate needs; but more than anything I simply provide a caring, listening ear.

            What stands out most about my experience thus far is how it has shown me that I am nothing like the "judgmental" person that society labels Christians as being. We ignorantly and hypocritically throw the "J" word around as if it grants us authority. I knew the stones were flung by hurting and confused individuals---but never has the fallacy of their words been so real than over the past several months.

            Before starting at the Life Center, I thought that surely my "judgmental" demeanor towards clients would be written all over my face: on a conscious level I knew it was, well, feces; but on a subconscious level, I wondered if it was true. And yet, as I sat with girl after girl, my meritless concern never so much as crossed my mind. Why? Because just like everyone else, these were real people. Beautiful, unique, kind-hearted people. And they responded to me because they could sense that I cared. Heart-and-gut-wrenching story after heart-and-gut-wrenching story, all I could think was, My heart bleeds for you. I could have been where you're at. You're worth so much more than your past indicates that you know. And oh, Someone loves you.

            After counseling one young woman she nodded her head, looked into my eyes and said "Thank you. I haven't thought of it that way." Suffice it to say, I have every confidence that what I am doing is an important, meaningful, and intrinsically rewarding endeavor."

Obesity... and why I am grateful for it.

A recent discussion forum for a class allowed me to touch on a cause that is near and dear to my heart: health. It's short and more-or-less slapped together, but I thought I'd take the opportunity to share it here anyway.

Obesity cannot and should not be "cured" in the same manner in which we go about "curing" everything else. (Since when was taking tolerable doses of harmful chemicals for the sake of exchanging one symptom for twenty additional ones the definition of "curing", anyway?) Obesity is a lifestyle issue---a concept we have difficulty understanding in a society that is content to numb symptoms and ignore causes.

Americans are used to instantaneous gratification, an expectation that bleeds into every area of our lives---even our health. Of course, we don't look at it that way, but think about it. Got anxiety? Pop a pill. Your child has "ADHD"? Pop HIM a pill. Because this "solution" is more appealing to patients and more profitable for pharmacies, we're content to turn a blind eye. We forget that anxiety is our body's way of asking us to slow down, and can be cured with regular exercise, adequate sleep, and adding a little margin to our daily lives. Furthermore, ADHD is a 21st-century problem resulting from 21st-century causes; swap the soda for some carrots, and after a while you'll begin to notice a difference in a child's behavior.

But we move too fast to form priorities or engage common-sense. Surely she's talking crazy; carrots and sleep aren't in vending machines! 

This is primarily why we are obese.

We fear and resent the very prospect of being overweight, when in all reality we should be grateful that our bodies are such amazing and capable machines which do almost everything for a reason. Obesity isn't a nuisance; it's a warning. And it's rampant in our country because we've forsaken the importance of our health. 

For the sake of my fellow Americans, I am thankful that there is still a symptom that refuses to be silenced.

(I don't write this as a genetically-blessed skinny chick shaking the finger at overweight people, but as someone who once came very close to pushing 200lbs. If you struggle with your weight, I encourage you to check out rebootwithjoe.com.)

All I have is gratitude to offer you.

I type this with heavy eyelids, throbbing feet, and a house that's messier than all of it's messiest days since we've been here rolled into one. But I need the record to show that I'm so unbelievably blessed it just about brings me to tears.

God is good. And not because the last two months have been more than I could have hoped for, and in so many different ways---but because even when we don't know or think we like where things are going, He's got a plan. 

If you grew up "in the church", that might seem like a cliche thing to say; but I'm not saying it as a token. I'm saying it as someone who has watched Him piece the puzzle of my life together to create something so much more rich in purpose and beautiful than the disaster of a Picasso I could have ever hoped to aspire to. Let the times that our souls overflow with joy and enthusiasm at the prospect of what those plans are unfolding to be serve as reminders for the times that we scramble to understand them. Because if you walk with God, you know that both times exist. And that the second kind of time makes the first kind a whole lot sweeter.

"And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose..." 

-Romans 8:28

Castles and wastelands

Did You come that we might just survive?

Did You come so we could just get by?

And did You walk among us

so we might merely limp along beside?

I was bound, I have been set free

But I have settled for apathy

And did You come to make me new

and know I'd crawl right back into the skin You found me in?

It's where I am, not where I've been...

I absolutely love trying new things. However, like most people I'm still a creature of habit, and if I'm being honest I'm not that willing to get creative with the things I absolutely love. Which is why whenever I'm in a bookstore, the self-improvement mumbo-jumbo section is unfailingly where I can be found.

That's exactly where I found its intriguing little spine. It was a book with a title something along the lines of "The Stages of Life" (though I don't remember who by). If mumbo-jumbo is nothing else, it's entertaining; so like most titles in that section, it piqued my curiosity, and I found myself quickly pulling it off the shelf with an objective hmm. Flipping over to the back cover, I read as the author chronologically listed the stages to be expected throughout the typical American adult life: College. Marriage. Divorce. Re-marriage. Retirement...

Excuse me, author ma'am, but I think you forgot "File bankruptcy" and "Get cancer". I indignantly shoved the handheld excuse for intelligence back in its designated place and moved on to some other book that likely wasn't any more of a reputable source of whatever it was talking about. 

But even the smallest, most laughable text can leave an indelible impression. If you know me, you won't be surprised when I told you I couldn't help seeing the deeper issue.

I'm afraid that the book's "eh, ish happens" attitude is all to prevalent. What did that say about the attitude of our culture? 

To the majority of the world, there is nothing alarming about the approach of the book I found that day; many would have considered its approach to life's expectations and advice on how to deal with them entirely sound. But as Christians, we're told there is another way. A better way. And yet, from these consequences, we don't always find ourselves excluded.

Christ came so that we could not only have life, but have it more abundantly (John 10:10). Why is it, then, that so many of us are only partially free? Free from pretenses... free from regarding debt as something we'll always have... free from having places in our minds where we don't allow ourselves to go. Some of us have photo albums we leave undusted; cobwebs we shame others into not exposing.

You get along. I mean, you'd get along even better if it weren't for people trying to disturb the caveats of your inner joy with blog posts, but other than that, you're fine. 

There's such a better way.

"Every man dies. Not every man really lives." 

-William Wallace

Open your closet. Choose freedom. Skeleton's don't bite; they're dead.

Why would a young man live in a wasteland

when the castle of his dreams is standing by?

Why would princess put on an old dress

to dance with her beloved, and a chance to catch his eye?

You make me want to LIVE...

Operation Reboot

A reboot is "a period of time where you commit to drinking and eating only fruit and vegetables, herbal teas, and water in order to regain or sustain your vitality, lose weight and kick-start healthy habits that recharge your body and get your diet back in alignment for optimal wellness"; "the perfect way to power up your system using plant-based energy to help you lose weight, get clear skin, increase your energy levels and think more clearly". 

Anyone who knows me isn't surprised that I said "sign me up!!" Roberto is doing it with me and our goal is 10 days.

Day 1
530am. First thought in my head when my alarm went off: Ugh---I gotta hit the gym.
Second thought: And I'm not eating food today. ... So not getting out of this bed.
Sadly, this was all talk.
7am. My morning routine was easy enough after a quick juice, but I attribute this to the fact that I ate some carbs the night before. It's tomorrow morning that I'm dreading.
11am. Stopped myself from reaching for food. Yeah, I'll probably do that about 1,700 more times in the next 9 days.
2pm. Lack of food is officially kicking in. Slightly lightheaded with a grumbling stomach. It's almost angering to think that I won't be crunching down on anything for what will seem like quite awhile.
I feel like I've been standing at the juicer for a lot of this day.
I'm mostly concerned about Roberto. One serving of juice doesn't sustain as long as I was thinking it would and he only took about 2 servings with him to work. Naturally he eats a lot more than I do, most of it carbs and meats, too.
5pm. Took a nap because I was so tired. Dreamt the entire time that I was devouring hot ground beef tacos, spicy BBQ tofu, and crablegs. (You know, things I don't eat/don't exist/have never even had.)
7pm. Waiting for Roberto to come back from the store with my vegetables. We ran out and I wasn't up for the trip. By the time he got home, I was definitely feeling irritable at the world.
830pm. Made a recipe off the Reboot website involving juiced carrot, juiced gingerroot, cayenne pepper, honey, salt, and pureed avocado. It seemed like the most delicious, most substantial meal I was ever grateful for in my life. It really was so good that I'll be adding it to my recipe book!
11pm. Had a cup of SleepyTime tea before bed and again I was so glad to have it! And yes, I got to bed way too late.

Day 2
6am. I couldn't find it in me to listen to my alarm clock for the first half hour thismorning. But I wasn't hating life like I thought I would! To my pleasant surprise I still made it to the gym. 
At first I had trouble dealing with my normal weights, but ended up working out basically as usual. Which surprised me: since I was running late I only had a spoonful of honey and cinnamon before running out the door---which is NOT something that someone with borderline hypotension can normally do. Anyway, I'm encouraged! No food is no fun, but as long as I've got my workouts, this train'll chug on.
1pm. Doing great! I'm finding that any gross combination of vegetables can be made much more tolerable/interesting with pineapple and/or gingerroot. Yes, even broccoli, celery and cucumber. Seriously, YUCK.
5pm. Roberto brought home more fruits and vegetables than I've ever seen in one kitchen in my life. And yet I know we'd be lucky if it lasted the both of us two days.
I'm disappointed to report that I have not experienced the "detox runs". :( A lacto-vegetarian who thrives mostly off of crackers and protein shakes probably just doesn't have too much that needs detoxing.


Day 3
6am. I had the most trouble getting out of bed to go to the gym thismorning. I couldn't wrap my head around the thought of doing reps or getting on an elliptical. But once I was awake I was more than good. I had my pre-breakfast of a spoonful of honey and cinnamon and a glass of OJ, and was back an hour later with a spring in my step. 
Also, some good news and some bad news...
It seems like my muscles are atrophying! Before I started the fast I was seeing great results in building muscle. Although I'm alert and energetic, I don't quite have the stamina for what was my current routine---and don't feel my muscles are as capable of responding to it even if I did. I expected the need to decrease physical activity, but it's happening and it makes me sad. :(
My skin was noticeably clearer thismorning.
12pm. Went to lunch with a friend today. Which I've been dreading ever since I planned to start the fast. How can I watch someone eat Thai food on what is supposed to be the most difficult day of the entire fast and not go INSANE? But to my surprise, I was absolutely fine. I felt a little odd bringing out my tupperware bowl of juiced soup, but hey, nobody minded, I didn't cave and order anything (even after pathetically perusing the menu), and I left the restaurant with a full stomach. It is official, I can do anything.
5pm. Chewing isn't an act you'd think you'd particularly miss, but I'm missing it pretty bad right about now.
8pm. I definitely find evenings to be the easiest.

Day 4
6am. Getting to the gym was even harden then yesterday. After each rep, I wanted to yell This is BS!!! Not happy with not being happy with my gym life, not happy at all. I'll try getting to bed earlier tonight and having more for breakfast tomorrow to see if that doesn't help.
9am. I was practically useless. Had to take a nap.
8pm. Had a bowl of raw spinach with coconut oil for dinner, one of the foods that are optionally allowed for the 10-day Reboot program. I didn't do it out of caving, I did it in attempt to improve my current unacceptably lousy workout potential, 'cause the workouts come way first. Anyway, a bowl of spinach never tasted so good. It was so good to chew!

Day 5 - Halfway there!
9am. Oops... I may have slept in. No gym today. So much for yesterday's dietary exception!
11pm. Got so wrapped up in doing stuff for the move that I waited way too long till my next juice. My hands were shaking so bad that I had trouble juicing. Let's not do that again!
1pm. I've been so busy cleaning, packing, thinking, and running errands that this is starting to get annoying...
5pm. What's better than raw onion, broccoli, beets and celery? JUICED raw onion, broccoli, beets and celery. Now if that doesn't make you wanna buy a juicer.

Day 6
Worked out in the afternoon instead of the morning and had more stamina than I can remember having ever. This tells me that I need to stop complaining about juicing and get an actual juice in before my workout! Duh moment.

Caught my reflection in a mirror today and did a double take. I'm looking as good as I feel!

My juice buddy had to curtail his fast to go to Chicago. He comes home tonight and I face the new challenge of making him food/watching him eat.

Day 7
Thismorning I was low on sweet stuff to counteract the gross stuff, and we were also late for church. This meant chugging the most disgusting juice I've had yet. And I can't chug like Roberto can. He'd drink the whole thing in one breath, where it takes me a good 20 swallows over 30 minutes or else I feel sick. And so I went feeling a little gross and a little hungry. On top of which, our plans kept us out four hours (shopping hungry at Whole Foods = no, no no no no) so I ended up cheating. I wanted to buy fresh squeezed juice, but of course Whole Foods wanted $7 for about 6oz. Haaaaaaaa! So I had to buy carob spirulana protein chunks and ate a few of those.

The rest of the day was filled with packing, cleaning, organizing, and cooking for Roberto. (He would have gladly cooked for himself considering, but he wasn't feeling good.) I wanted to punch juice fasting in the face.

Day 8
Word of the day: creatine. I found some while I was packing the kitchen and added some to my OJ thismorning. I can't assess it's performance just yet because I didn't stick to my normal free weight routine; I spent all my time on the stairmaster. But I kicked my butt.

Stepped on the scale at the gym today and I'm down over 2lbs from when I started the fast! Considering I've been building muscle mass (or trying to anyway) and have probably increased water retention, I'm impressed.

Ran into a slight problem today. We forgot to pick up more juicing fuel at the store yesterday---leaving me out of stock by 11am. Since we recently sold our second car and Roberto was at work, this was a problem. To be honest, I was a little relieved: I feel like juicing takes so much time. So much time to clean and cut; so much time fighting with my Prima Donna juicer; so much time cleaning the juicer and the 360* radius around it where juice had been splattered and pulp had been flung; so much time taking it apart and cleaning each piece between every juice; so much time doing it all again in an hour and fifteen minutes because it just doesn't go far, even for a snacker like me. On top of which, Roberto tells me he wants us to be out of the apartment three days earlier than I thought (in two days!!). Then he has the nerve to render himself useless by catching a stomach bug, poor guy. Not even going to mention the fact that my accelerated Calculus class started today. So all things considered, (and then re-considered, and then assured by Roberto that it's for the best and it doesn't make me a quitter), juice-fast, I think I'm going to call you a 7-day. I only picked 10 because it was more than 5 anyway.

After this week, I feel confident I could do a 30-day if I wanted to. But they say timing is everything, and in that area I was definitely off! But yay for my first juice fast!!

Failure to prioritize

I'm sure you've heard about the Chinese bride who fled her wedding day to interview locals about a 7.0-magnitude earthquake.

According to globalpost.com, whether she was getting her makeup done or walked out on the actual nuptials is disputed. As a former bride and wedding photographer, however, I can tell you that by the time the veil is positioned on the bride's head, preparation is completely done and she's ready to walk down the aisle. Regardless of whether or not she made a dramatic exit, she's practically being acclaimed a heroin.

This woman abandoned the most important person in her life on the most important day of their lives, and her act is being appraised as dedication. 

How about textbook irony? 

Had this been her quinceanera, I would have no doubt offered my applause, with little to no consideration for the shrugging teenage guests and half-wacked pinata (so I know they don't do pinatas at quinceaneras... but let's go with it for the sake of impressing informality). But this was her wedding day. On the day that she stands before God to proclaim her utmost loyalty to a man she'll promise to forsake all others for, he's left standing alone---in the name of interviewing eye-witnesses regarding a non-time sensitive event.

Let's keep things in perspective. She's not a medic---she's a news anchor. A fly to a wound, but less essential. Journalists flock to areas of natural disaster to bother people with microphones so that other people can sit at home on their couch and shake their heads with unintelligent expressions on their face while listening to bewildered eye-witness accounts and "I-didn't-know-what-was-happening"-type responses. If their media is anything like ours, this will probably go on for one week at an absolute minimum.

And yet, this was an emergency. No one, not anyone, could have replaced her. What a hero.

In the comments of one article, one person aggressively mused that any other action would have been pure selfishness. Believe it or not, this thought process appears to be the norm. But there's one small problem with pretending like this was a mere birthday party: she was a bride---which means there was a groom.

Yes! Despite how much the wedding industry has grown while the rate of successful marriages have not, the little shin-dig we call a wedding day involves more than just the bride and is supposed to mean something. For anyone to suggest that the bride ditching her groom at the altar to fill a position for which she was entirely replaceable and involved a non-life threatening emergency was not only selfless but unquestionably justifiable... well, that's just indicative of society's joke called marriage in the twenty-first century. The very thought of revering such a sad act makes me shudder in disgust.

Many view the whole situation as trivial, even comical. But such a response should serve as a reminder of our nation's lack of deliberately established priorities. It is why families, the very structure of our nation, are falling apart at the seams. I personally would not have been interviewing passer-by's that day; I would have been at my groom's side. And yet, we laugh. We applaud. Meaning has become a punchline; those who maintain priorities are not tolerated by those who preach tolerance.

Let's be intentional about our priorities and stand by them. Do not ever apologize for them. And pray for those who trivialize that which is so indicative of a broken people.

Thanks for reading  & happy Thursday! :)

Learned & learning: 23 years young.

I'm not exactly sure what to call whatever this is I decided to jot down. I'm not pretentious enough to call it wisdom, because well that would be pretentious and also because I'm 23. Whatever it is, maybe it will serve to help someone else. Either way this is what's shaping me here and now.

Baggage is for bellhops. Hold nothing against anyone.
Take character into account when weighing the effectiveness and validity of one's words.
Relaxation is a key source of inspiration---work and play equally hard.
Don't leave words unspoken.
Aim to offend no one, but never at the cost of compromise.
Lack of action is equally likely to result in regret; don't spend life on the sidelines.
Stand for something or fall for anything. (Choose.)
Take something away from every experience.
Choose your battles.
Take risks.
Be selective about what and who you allow to steal your joy.
Do now what you wish you would have done later.
Remember that to whom much is given much is expected.
Do not strive for popularity---it's too often indicative of a lukewarm (and therefore, arguably ineffective) life.
Be salt.
Our words are like a bullet; they have potential to wreak havoc and cannot be taken back.
A little less talking, a little more thinking; a little less thinking, a little more doing.
Generosity is the surest cure for greed.
Evaluate what you think and why you think it---often.
Finish what you start.
Keep your word; it's all you have.
Broaden your horizons every opportunity you get.
Remember that forgiveness is rarely for the other person.
The cause of arguments is either miscommunication or misunderstanding 90%+ of the time.
We never know what has happened for a reason.
Live a marginal life.
We rarely get to see the bigger picture; so just remember that it's there.

Thanks to my Manda for the pics!

Worth fighting for

"The lie that we tell

is it's better somewhere else

As if love flies south when it freezes."

- Nichole Nordeman

I'm not a fan of mainstream comedy, or comedy in general really. Of course there are a few must-sees, like Nacho Libre or Lars and the Real Girl (I guess I like it a little offbeat). But ask me if I've seen something with Will Ferrel or Adam Sandler, and I'll say no because I was probably watching a special on stingrays in the Great Barrier Reef or something. But last night Roberto really wanted to watch a comedy, and so we rented "Knocked Up".

You can probably guess the premise of the movie by its title; a one-night stand leaves Seth Rogen and Katherine Heigl in more of a commitment than they bargained for.

I don't think comedies are supposed to get your blood boiling. And yet I wanted projectiles to throw at the tv screen at a few scenes in particular.

The plot's dilemma, other than the untimely pregnancy, was that Heigl and Rogen wanted to be together but believed they weren't "right" for eachother. Specifically, Heigl didn't want to end up like her older sister, who had a huge house in SoCal, two beautiful little girls, and was generally living the American Dream, but (get your violin out for this one) she had occasional disagreements with her husband. Like, they didn't always see eye-to-eye on a few everyday things.

If the viewers were supposed to see this as anything more than an easy laugh that any and every married person can relate to, I failed to notice. And yet, Heigl's rationale for breaking it off with her baby-daddy? "I don't want to end up like [my sister]. Every day is a constant struggle for them because they're not right for each other."

Maybe it's just me but I'm a little nauseated and confused by society's definition of "right". The fact that its ambiguity keeps everything so preciously relative beside, it's evident to me that our culture adores perpetuating the myth that if it doesn't work out with someone, they just weren't the one for you.

We like this scapegoat. We love any scapegoat that demotes our level of accountability and control over the sobering aftermath of something like a severed and broken family to the unfortunate event of catching the flu on your birthday.

Hey, ish happens. That's life. What can you do? Sorry, try again next time.

But happiness is not a Monopoly sticker you peel off the box of a Big Mac. The idea that your life will either work out or it will not makes about as much sense as having no idea how to drive a vehicle, ramming it over pedestrians every time you get in the driver's seat, and chalking it up to the fact that you bought a foreign car. So you get a Ford instead of a Toyota. Now you could learn how to actually drive that car and be a happy consumer, or you could spend your life going back to the dealer and saying "it just wasn't the car for me".

Before anyone gets offended, I'm not necessarily implying that the characters had an obligation to get married; I'm not saying sometimes the other person won't hear of working things out; I'm not saying there aren't legitimate reasons, such as abuse or infidelity, for ending a marriage. I'm specifically talking about the "we're different people"/"we've grown apart"/"we're not right for eachother" schticks.

"We're different people." Well I sure am sorry (and a little embarrassed) that it took you so long to figure that one out. I find it kind of funny since it was likely your opposites that attracted you to one another in the first place, and if you had married someone identical to you in every way, I can almost promise you'd be justifying the separation with boredom.

What's most unfortunate about this one is that people are viewing the beauty as the curse. I am so ridiculously imperfect, but when you take mine and Roberto's strengths and weaknesses and put them together, we are so much more of a deadly force in whatever it is we decide to do in this world than if we attempted to do any of it alone.

"We've grown apart." What you mean to tell me is that you've stopped working at it. You don't have to be married 25 years to see that one.

"We're not right for each other." Assuming that "right" is supposed to mean warm fuzzies all the time with about as much potential for turbulence as a Cadillac on a freshly paved expressway, no one is "right" for anyone. Please stop looking for that human being that will make your issues go away and your life complete, because they're human too and you're gonna die trying.

Marriage is the act of taking two physically, chemically, emotionally, and psychologically different beings, with their own unique backgrounds, experiences, and perspectives on life, and merging it all into one. Anyone who thinks friction isn't completely inevitable needs to take the money they were going to spend on an engagement ring and buy the next flight out of LaLa Land.

Anything in life worth having is worth working and fighting for---and fighting is the amount of effort it will require. Please don't shortchange yourself by buying into the lie that things just "work out" for some people but for others it does not. The people who are happiest in this life are the ones who never did a double-take of that mentality.