CONFESSIONS / FOUR

It's been quite some time since I've worked on my Confessions series; a series that I talk about things I personally find difficult or struggle with in my physical, spiritual, or mental walk. Today I'm starting up this series again with an awkward topic. Sex.

This post will mostly be directed towards anyone who has been or is in a relationship outside of marriage, knowing you guys will really be able to relate to this message. But also for those of you believers who are not in relationships, I hope this can be a form of encouragement for your future relationships and even now. Note: It's a long post, but it's a little too difficult talking about sex in under five paragraphs.

Purity: One of the toughest subjects for the teenage/young adult Christian, at least for me it is. Let's just go ahead and say it, sex is difficult. Over the past couple of weeks, my church has been diving into the topics of sex and marriage, as we study 1 Corinthians. Everyone will say they've heard 'the sex talk' by a pastor or another believer a million times, but I truly am thankful for the enrichment and encouragement it has been. Learning how God created sex in light of marriage is beautiful. As beautiful as it may be, it is stinking difficult. For those of you who don't know too much of my personal life, I have been in a relationship for a little over a year now, and purity has been one of the most challenging things we have faced. I feel as if most couples waiting to have sex for marriage, and couples that honor the design of sex that God created, deal with this issue. But I guess it just seems incredibly worse when you're the one experiencing it.

From day one, Tony and I set the limitations and boundaries of our physical relationship to be centered around Christ and his will for marriage and sex. Little did I know how difficult that would be. It's much easier said than done. I congratulate those of you who experienced this for years on end before marrying your spouse. It is one virtue that God is continuously strengthening for me, but is none-the-less difficult and most of all frustrating. Not just because of self-control and respecting the beauty of sex, but also the constant temptation and 'image' that culture places on relationships, sex, and marriage. This marred view of marriage that is put on display by American culture, even by Christians, can be antagonizing and scary, especially for those who want to live purely and who want to save our oneness for our spouse.

As a believer, knowing how, why, and what God designed sex for is critical, especially for those seeking marriage. I think it's somewhat humorous how I vowed to save my purity for my spouse at the age of thirteen without even knowing why God created sex for our spouse. I'd say Church Project, and my pastor Jason's incredible value and study of scripture, have been the biggest resources in teaching me about the beauty of sex and why God designed it. Although that doesn't make it any less difficult, it does clear up the many questions of why sex is meant for our spouse. Although the topic of sex is a whole post in itself, I thought I'd share some of the biggest encouragements and clarifications of sex from scripture that have influenced my thinking of sex and how it relates to my relationship with Tony. These scriptures have guided Tony and I in praying for and seeking patience and self-control within our physical relationship, and it has opened the doors to a new identity of sex and the true essence of why we were created as passionate beings.

"For Scripture says, The two will become one flesh. But anyone joined to the Lord is one spirit with Him." – 1 Corinthians 6:16-17 (HCSB)

The act of sex is joining two bodies into one flesh. The representation of our spirit joined with Lord clearly depicts the value, importance, and holiness of the joining of two bodies. When we become believers and our spirits are now one with Lord, as Christ is one with the church, a man and woman's body are spiritually, mentally, and emotionally one. Not only in the sense of spirituality, but physically too; if a man can be a man to have sex with a woman, he is now making a covenant with her to protect her physically, spiritually, emotionally, financially, and lead her. We can sum that up as marriage. There is no covenant greater that a man or a woman can make with another being other than sex; that covenant is represented with the covenant of Christ, which is completely unbreakable.

"Don’t you know that your body is a sanctuary of the Holy Spirit who is in you, whom you have from God? You are not your own, for you were bought at a price. Therefore glorify God in your body." – 1 Corinthians 6:19-20 (HCSB)

This is something we hear constantly, at least I know I do; we hear the importance of our bodies being a temple. But my pastor put it in a way that made me stop and really think about my physical body. Without quote, he said there is no other thing, object, or animal on this earth that God chose to enter and dwell within. The Lord chose humans being to give His spirit and let His presence be tangible. With that concept, why do we chose to go against his very word of sex, the most personal, intimate, and passionate part of our bodies, minds, and spirits? In my own relationship, I must not only guard my heart, but also guard my body. Since I have not joined the covenant with a spouse yet, my body is not mine, nor a man's. My body is God's. It is the body He chooses to dwell within. My body is a temple for the holy spirit to work through. Maybe some of you have heard it put into those terms, but for me it was an eye opener for physical purity. My body will remain the Lord's, until I give it to my spouse by joining together as one. Again, easy to put into words, but a heck of a lot harder to remember when you feel the natural desires coming forth.

"A wife does not have the right over her own body, but her husband does. In the same way, a husband does not have the right over his own body, but his wife does." – 1 Corinthians 7:4

This scripture has given me a more defined image of what sex should look like in a marriage, therefore better encouraging me to have self-control to give this to my future spouse. Although it can be hard to understand when you're not married, reading this verse under the umbrella of marriage can be helpful. This is a verse that many have abused. People have taken this verse and used it as proof for demanding sex, but this verse goes far deeper than the role of sex. On topic, yes this verse is all about sex and husbands and wives fulfilling their marital duty. This scripture is a clear image of the act of giving one's self to their spouse through sex. It represents that same oneness we have with Christ; our body is not our own. In another light, this is portraying the amount of protection and trust we invest in our spouse. By having sex, we are trusting someone to protect our body, provide for our body in all areas, respect our body and so forth and vice versa. Sex opens the doors to giving your body and entrusting someone with it. When I see sex in this light, I realize that I am not ready for that. I am not in a covenant with Tony to trust him to take care of my body as if it were his own. None of us will be at that point, and if we are, (with God's will and righteousness) it's time for marriage. As much as I'd like to say, "Yes I trust Tony in every area," he has not made a covenant within marriage, vowing to take care of me as his own. Therefore, we are not ready for sex. God did not design sex to be used lightly outside of marriage.

"Then the Lord God said, 'It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper as his complement.'" – Genesis 2:18

From the moment God created Adam, perfect in His image made one with Him, walking with him, Adam still craved and desired oneness. God created us to be in oneness with someone. Not a partial commitment of oneness to fill each other's sexual and emotional needs and then cut the chord when we're ready. No. The Lord designed us to desire a oneness so holy it can only be compared to God and the Spirit, Christ and the Church. He created this oneness to be the complete surrendering of your body, your heart, your mind, and your spirit to another fallible, broken human. To me that's a little scary and daunting. When I view sex in that light it makes sex all the more precious and sacred and something to guard. When we see sex and the design of a Creator, it is all of a sudden holy and righteous. It is not scandalous and dirty like the world makes it seem. Sex is something to be valued, until we make the covenant, that oneness, with our spouse. If God created and designed it, then He knows how we are to enjoy it best, how it will be the most beautiful.

All of that right there makes me scared and nervous about sex. It makes me feel like it's breakable and needs to be kept safe in a box. Guarding my purity is difficult, but in light of Christ it is possible and all the more rewarding. In light of my relationship, purity is attainable, but having self-control is the biggest challenge if Christ is not at the center. That is something I can say even through my own relationship; those times when we let Christ just 'slip away' from the center of our boundaries are the times when those temptations feel impossible to control.

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I would love to hear from you guys. What are some ways you've viewed sex in light of Christ? Have you experienced this challenge? What do you find encouraging? It's always wonderful hearing from other believers about such an important topic.

For much better words than I myself have, listen to how my pastor puts these scriptures (1 Corinthians 6-7) into perspective with three sermons at Church Project. Podcast available here.

Confessions / Three

I've always wanted to make people happy. I just simply want to make people feel welcome, feel happy, feel as though I've made an effort. I'm a 'people-pleaser.'

Over time, especially as I become older and I am constantly experiencing new areas of life, I've realized how dangerous being a people-pleaser really is. I've come to understand the severity of constantly wanting to please people. There is such a fine line between making someone happy and doing what's right. There's a one-step boundary between truth and deception. 

Why do we please people? Do we do it to feel good? Do we want to make others happy to increase our pride, to prove something? Why do we feel this desire to make people so happy? There's an extreme difference between pleasing people and pleasing God. We are not accountable to people. Our lives are not judged by people, nor are we required to please anyone. Who are we accountable to. . . ? The one, true King. Our intentions, our focus, and our direction should be on the Lord at all costs. No matter what circumstance, we should be ready to please the Lord. Yes, making others happy pleases the Lord. But pleasing the Lord doesn't always mean pleasing others. With a servant's hearts, one of the hardest things to do is trying not to please people constantly. Sometimes we are not just called to be sweet and gentle. Sometimes we need to be bold and loud. We need to show the Truth, in love. We need to reveal Him, in love. But the Truth doesn't always please people. The Gospel doesn't always appeal to people. People will reject it, they will stomp on it, spit on the cross, and slander you. They will be angry, upset, confused, anything but pleased. But who are we trying to please? People or the Lord?

Day to day I still want to please people, but I've had to learn why. What are my intentions? Are we pleasing people for our own glory or for His? Do we want to make others happy to boost our pride or to teach about the Gospel? Us people-pleasers need to refashion our thinking. We need to remember why we want to do good, and why we want to make others happy. I myself still struggle with this day to day, but God has slowly but surely reminded me that not everyone will be happy with me, not everyone will like me, and in the end I am accountable to Him and Him alone.

"For am I now seeking the approval of man, or of God? Or am I trying to please man? If I were still trying to please man, I would not be a servant of Christ." - Galatians 1:10

Confessions / Two

There's a man, and he is lost. For eleven years he grounds himself. He places himself in hopes of nothing. He buries himself deeper and deeper thinking he's crawling back out of the hole he fell in. All along he is complacent. He is idling. There's no moving forward. He is sorrowful. He is my father.

Eleven years to the day and he cuts himself from the chord. It's all in his head, and he thinks he's crawling again. He still goes backwards. Anguish, then despair, and now freedom. Freedom from responsibility, from commitment, from guilt. He is not my father.

I had a dad, you could say. I had a father who read me bedtime stories, ate ice cream with me, and made me ride the ferris wheel that was far beyond my eyes could see. I had a dad who made me giggle, who laughed at me when I cried big tears after watching King Kong, who gave me love. I had a father. At eleven years old, my bags weighing down on my pale arms, my eyes swelling from tears that I don't want my mom to see, my bedroom emptied out with nothing left but old memories, we shut the door. And that door may have shut his door to fatherhood too. Age twelve: I am entering middle school. I am experiencing, and learning originality, and changing, and growing. Father, where are you? Age fourteen: I am liking boys, desiring to be 'cool', struggling with beauty and looks and sadness. Father, where are you? Age fifteen: high school comes along. I am bullied, I am hurt, I still don't understand everything. I question. Father, where are you? Age sixteen: I see girls with fathers who don't miss a single thing, who fill up their hearts, who treat them as their beloved, sweet, girls. Father, where are you? Age seventeen and I have my first boyfriend, I experience my first job, I am about to go to college, I am grown. Father, where are you?

I don't know what happened. Maybe I was naive at age eight, when nothing more brightened up my day than my father. But somewhere along the lines, he left. He left with his sadness packed up in his suitcase. He left with his 'success' on the fore front of his mind. He left with whatever hopes I had of having a father in the most difficult, life-changing years I've had in my life. Physically he is somewhere. Physically I can call him. Physically he can give me a little bit of money now and then. But mentally, my father left a long time ago and died with the man he used to be.

I want to say I feel cheated. I feel as though something so close to my heart was taken away. Every one of us has a deep longing to be with our fathers, our earthly fathers. Every one of us wants to feel the affection of a father who deeply loves us. But I just feel so empty and void of that. He was no where when I needed him, and he still isn't. He left fatherhood on the same porch-step that my mom and I walked out of that day eight years ago. He left his daughter. He left me.

I want to say I am angry. I want to say I should scream, and cry, and tell him the emptiness I've experienced. I want to tell him the jealousy I feel when I see young women talking with their fathers, and those fathers have that look in their eyes that I long for. Those fathers have the protection over those daughters that I cry out for. Those fathers have committed to their daughters, while other men have simply walked out without a single thought of what they left.

I want to say I am heartbroken. I want to say how broken I feel when I see priorities of women, and parties, and money are put far above the love of a daughter. I want to kick, and scream, and cry out for my father. But when that lump in my throat gets too big to swallow, I remember that he isn't there. And it would all be useless. My cries would vanish into thin air. A father can't here his daughters cries, if he isn't a father at all.

I want to remind myself that I tried. I've explained with niceness, with delicate words and tender thoughts. But why should I explain with tenderness, when all he's handed me is the rough void of a father who was once there? I can say I've told him. I told him my struggle, but all that was given in return was a rough shoulder of something else to feel sorry for.

I want to say I don't deserve it, but I remember that every broken heart has a purpose. Every pain we encounter has its reason. Although the pain in my flesh aches and calls out for my earthly father, I remember that my spirit has been fulfilled by my heavenly Father. When all tides are broken loose, and my legs crumble within my brokenness, I remember that my Father rescued me from a life of anger, and guilt, and hurt. My God redeemed me from a man who forsake me. My God picked up my knees before they buckled within the weight of my own sadness. My Creator filled every empty hole left behind by the man who takes the title as my dad. My Lord fulfilled my desires and treats me as though I am His only beloved daughter. My Father walks with me, He talks with me, He teaches me, loves me, cares for me, and fills every void that was once before left scarred. No man could father me the way you do, Lord.

My flesh may be empty, but Father, You give me life. My heart may be broken, but Father, you fulfill my Spirit. I may be scarred, but Father oh Father, You heal me. 

Confessions / One

Those words... Those words that ring in my ears, in my eyes, in my head for hours on end. The words that recall the thoughts of disgust, of pain. "I dislike my body." I assume many girls struggle with this just as I do. We struggle with body image and a lack of self-confidence. At times I find myself staring at myself in the mirror, wondering how this could be anything close to beautiful? How could this be found as something delicate and precious? The real question is, how will I ever learn to love myself?

To some the words 'love myself' may sound selfish, juvenile, and ridiculous. It sounds egotistic, as if loving ourselves is a bad thing. But I desire to love myself. I desire to love my skin, my body, the parts that I hope no one dares to look at. I desire to love the image reflected back at me when I take a peek in the mirror before changing or taking a shower. I desire to wear shorts, tank tops, and bikinis without feeling the embarrassment of a stretch marks and flabby legs.

Although I've struggled with this, I'm learning to love my body; I'm learning to love it despite my flaws, insecurities, and areas my eyes dread to see. I'm learning that I go beyond my appearance. I go beyond my outer shell and my lack of love for my own skin. I've also learned how quiet us women are. We may put on our very best, in hopes we'll forget about the marks or areas of depression. We tell ourselves 'good compliments' only to be thinking of the next criticism of ourselves to emit from our mouths and into our hearts. We walk with our heads held high. Well, high enough to pretend we're ignoring the screaming thoughts of disgust in our head. Just high enough to pretend we can forget about what little we have of our self-confidence. Time after time of me begging on my knees to see myself in a different light, I begin to question, why do we limit ourselves? Why do we put beauty in terms of body? I've learned we must change the thoughts that tame our eyes. We must find security in how beautiful we really are; the freckles, the moles, scares, bones, or areas you see as ugly were all so delicately and preciously chosen for you. Every crevice, mark, protrusion, and indention was made so perfectly to be a part of you and me. We let empty words shape what we see as 'beauty.' "I must be skinny" are the words I hear, but I struggle to find the peace of loving myself. I fall into the traps of a destroying words telling me I must be flawless, in order to be beautiful. And I let those words get to me, just like they get to her, and you, and all of us.

I know those words have masked our minds. They have made an image of beauty that does not exist. Beauty is you, and me, and her, and all of us. Beauty is imperfection. Beauty is courage, compassion, love, honor, willpower, and brilliance. Beauty is not a size or a color. It does not come in the form of a body. There is an answer to loving ourselves. 

Quiet our thoughts and close our eyes.
I am beautiful.
She is beautiful.
You are beautiful.
We all are beautiful.

Confessions: A Blog Series

I'm starting a new blog series called Confessions. This series will consist of a weekly post of something I'm confessing to my readers. It can range from things I struggle with, something I'm ashamed of, or whatever else I have to tell you all. The reason I decided to start this series was to show truth in who I am. It's so easy to make an image of ourselves on a blog, website, etc. We can make up things, show that 'everything is okay,' or give off an image that we have it all together. But I'm human, and I know for sure that I don't always have everything together. I am a broken girl just like millions of people out there who are finding meaning in life through pain, anger, sadness, and trouble. I want to be honest with my readers. I've learned that if we can't be honest about who we are in front of others, we'll never know who we can connect to and learn from.

The goal of this series is to relate to you, and to tell you things about myself that are real. I love seeing others talking about the things that otherwise most people wouldn't talk about. It opens up windows of opportunity for friendships, connections, advice, and overall comfort. I don't know how long I'll do this series, but as long as I do I encourage you to email me or comment back about the things I write about, whether you relate to it or if you simply want to talk about something in your life that you haven't shared. This is a series to connect, to learn, and to see other people in the same light as we see ourselves sometimes: a mess. I hope you all find this a learning experience to open up to others and to really see a brighter side of everything in life.

Look out for Confessions #1.