Dear Self

Dear Self, 

As I look back at all the pictures that are hanging on the walls at mom and dads, there's so many things that I wish I could tell you. You're not a fat cow even though you're certain that you are. You will eventually eat your way into obesity, but in those captured moments, you're not. 

It will take you a long time, but eventually you'll begin to embrace your quirkiness and randomness and just your own strange since of humor. Not everyone will be able to get it, but that's okay. 

This is really hard to believe, but eventually you will learn to love yourself. It'll start very slowly and extremely painfully, but moment by moment you'll learn to like yourself and embrace yourself and eventually just be okay with who you are. Not all of the decisions that you make will be wise ones, but hey, nobody's perfect. 

McDonald's will still be your favorite restaurant. Jeff Frankenstein of The Newsboys will get married but it won't be to you. You will find this to be appalling. 

You'll never do illegal drugs and wont smoke. You'll be pretty proud of this, though you do drink. Almost everything that you think up until your 30's that is extremely morally important, goes by the wayside. The things that last are loving others, taking care of others, taking care of yourself. 

A few short months after you graduate high school you'll develop an OCD habit where you think that you're never wearing pants. This will continue for at least the next 15 years. Everyday you will check to make sure you wearing pants. If you're really nervous or anxious you check A LOT. Rest assure, you have never actually left the house without pants on.

Grandma and Grandpa Johnson will eventually pass on. Grandpa's death will hit you the hardest. You'll find yourself doing things just to try and make him proud... You're not sure if he can see or hear you, but you kinda hope he can.

There will come in time when you just hate yourself. You'll wish that you didn't exist. Things that you thought were normal growing up, actually weren't. Things that you always believed to be true, including your theology, you will struggle with for very long time. 

You're not stupid and even though you don't have a dramatic story to tell, you learn to embrace the imperfections of life and just tell the story that you have.You'll  recognize that there's other people out there who see parts of themselves in you, just like you see parts of yourself in others. Imperfection's a good thing - it'll make you bitter and jagged, a little jaded - but that's okay, so is life. Suck it up.

If I could go back in time & tell you just one thing it would be this, love yourself. And when that seems too hard, love others. Love never fails.

You're A Little Bit Country, I'm A Little Bit F*cked Up

couple of things that are semi important to know about me:
* I despise liars/lying. It's my #1 pet peeve.
* I believe that it's not what you do that defines you, it's who you are on the inside. (ex: I could care  less if Isaac became a potato farmer if it made him happy. His job title has nothing to do with his character and heart) ... I'm pretty stellar at believing this about other people but sorta crappy applying to myself.
* I've been told :) that I push people away. It's a fear based thing. I'll probably always be a 'wear my heart on my sleeve' sorta girl, but I'm always convinced people will leave if they knew the 'real me', so I typically try and tell the worst things about myself and/or just backpedal out of the relationship. Most times I don't realize I'm doing it until it's too late and I'm guessing that it's confusing and hurtful to others. It's probably one of my ugliest flaws.
* I love the idea of justice and things working out for the greater good. Hero wins, bad guy gets his ass kicked. I'm guessing that's why I'm so drawn to law enforcement/justice shows and comic book movies.
* I went from 'super christian' to 'I have no idea what I am' in the course of about 3-4 years. I am both deeply ashamed by this and slightly relieved. I feel like I can 'be the true me' now, but also that I've lost my community and my sense of belonging. The last 2 make me both angry and sad. Most days I feel very lost.
* It's also important to note that there wasn't this one terrible incident or person that 'wronged' me at a church. A lot of my issues stem from just pure selfishness. I thought or least assumed that if I played by whatever moral and churchy rules, that God would kinda owe me something or at best, things would just 'work out'... I think I believed Romans 8:28 a little too literally... "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." 
* Anyway, so as it turns out, I'm kinda of a selfish bastard. And the more I learned about my own fallacies and inadequacies, the more I began to admit and recognize flaws in both theories and stories in the Bible. Or just even the hypocrisy in the idea that if something good happens we believe that it was God... but if something happens that we don't want to happen, it's of Satan... or worse, if something terrible happens to a person or a city we don't like... that was the sign of God's wrath. We can't have it both ways. God is not as flippant as our opinions are.
* Regardless of what I realized about myself or the questions that I had about faith, I knew I didn't want to be what I was before... which was rather judgemental and harsh. There were always things that didn't set right with my own personal belief system growing up, but it seemed so much more deep rooted now. I genuinely feel that I tried to 'come back to Jesus', but I got burned time and time again. It was just insultingly painful.
* I used to 'serve with a purpose'... and that purpose was that I felt called to do something... Now when I fight against perceived injustice and/or give of myself or whatever, it's more because it's A) partially who I am as a person and B) I feel like if there is a God, this is my way of following/honoring him.
* So whatta do when you realize you don't/can't be who you were but aren't sure of who you want to be?

Found this CS Lewis quote. Seems timely.

To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.”
― C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves

My Baggage Looks Better Than Your Baggage



One lovely summer evening I was chatting with someone about hurt feelings they were experiencing with a mutual friend. I was trying explain how each of them came to the table with their own set of baggage. If there is unknown, or worse yet, ignored emotional land mines in a relationship, it can prove to be explosive.

It got me thinking though... Everybody comes into a relationship with baggage. Whether it's romantic, friendship, work, religious groups. Heck, we're born into baggage. Our DNA is intertwined with both maternal and paternal flaws and hiccups. If we happen to pro-create, we just add to the mix... Discovering what your baggage is, can be both tricky and sometimes an extremely painful process. There's not a huge learning curve, and rocky relationships can only seem to minimize the arch. 

As I've gotten older, I've recognized (or been told :) some of the crap I carry around. Some months I gain baggage at an alarmingly high rate... I've also gotten pretty decent at 'announcing' it. This blog serves as a show and tell sometimes. Airing out insecurities can be both healing for myself, and sometimes for other readers. It's good to not feel so alone... However, here's the weird part- as good as I've gotten about telling other people about my flaws, I still go into relationships assuming they're not coming with any baggage of their own. And on my worst days, sorta just marching in with all of my luggage, dumping it on the ground and saying, "Here's all of my stuff. Take me or leave me, but you're gonna have to deal with it." Never really considering that their wounds and emotional scars might come along for the ride.

Over the last few months, it's become increasingly apparent to me that the closer I grow to people, the longer I'm in friendships, the deeper I dig into relationships, the more baggage I start bumping into. I can only be in a close-knit room or group for awhile until each piece of my baggage starts bumping into the other person's. So then I'm left with the choice - do I throw my belongings down and have a hissy fit or do I apologize and have grace and walk more carefully because I love (or am called to love) the other person?

pain

I tend to pen either ridiculous blog material or what could be considered somewhat intense, deeply personal musings.  I do that in ‘real life’ too… I think it’s how I keep my sanity…. Regardless, this is one of those deep crappy sappy ones, so if you’re not in the mood, now may be an excellent time to go toss the football with the kids in the backyard…

It’s no secret that I struggle with my faith, my weight and self-esteem.  I doubt that I’ll ever NOT struggle with it.  Most days I can deal with it. But sometimes, they combine their nasty forces for evil and release some super storm. Sorta like when Jean Grey Summers became the Phoenix in X-Men… sorta…   

And as a side note… most everything ‘serious’ that I ever blog about is extremely personal.  Not to say it shouldn’t be shared – it’s not called the World Wide Web for nothing – but as an exercise for me.  There’s a few things that I’ve learned over the years… A) Bottling it all up and keeping it to yourself is extremely unhealthy and can have terrible consequences.  B) Somebody, somewhere, is probably going through or will go through some variation of whatever it is that you’re feeling at this moment.  C) Blogging for me is a way to keep myself honest. It’s almost a religious or holy experience for me. Being able to emote through written words releases an endorphin of sorts. It’s that gasp of extremely valuable air that you need while you’re in the ocean, allowing you to be carried away by the waves for a few more moments.  

It’s also a wonderful way to procrastinate when you don’t really want to talk about what’s bothering you…

Okay, so here’s my baggage.  I’m still really upset over the whole Africa trip thing… I feel like I was going there with very pure intentions and it was mistaken as something otherwise.  I’m not exactly sure how it could have been, but I’m devastated by it. Isaac sometimes tries to explain the possible reasoning behind the other person’s response, but really, all I want to hear is, “They were completely wrong and you were completely right.”  That’s probably totally immature and I’m sure there’s a few of you who would say, “Just get over it”, but hey, that’s where I’m at. That wound is still very, very sore. And I’m having a lot of difficulty moving past it.

I hate how much weight I’ve gained. My breathing is labored, airplane seats are tighter, clothes don’t fit. I eat all the time. I eat everything. It’s my comfort and my thorn. I have no idea how that works, but I’m stuck in that hamster wheel again.  I joined Weight Watchers again in February. I’ve gone once since then. I haven’t been to the gym in months. I really don’t want to go back. What I really want to do is sleep. And eat. And then sleep more. I have headaches all the time. I don’t go certain places or see certain people because I’m so freaked out by how many pounds I’ve put on since I last saw them.  When I was thinner, I liked some of the attention I got and the clothes that I could wear… but I hated hearing people comment on in. It was like a little stab in my heart when people would say something about how “skinny” I was. (For the record – I’ve never been skinny.  Just less fat.) I wasn’t able to take the compliments well. That, and I still felt like a fat person stuck in a thinner person’s body.  Weird shit, I know.

 

Ah yes, and now on to the most painful one.  The one I don’t really want to talk about, but feel like I should… the stupid, God damn baby issue. Nothing in this world makes you feel like a bigger loser as a woman, than not being able to pro-create.  Zippo.  Nada.  Zilch.  There are so many emotions that come with it. Anger is really the one that I’m pretty stuck in lately.  Haven’t bothered with birth control in over 3 years. “Trying” for around a year or more. To some people that nothing. But to me, it feels like eternity.  Periods are never an enjoyable experience, but once a month, I am now reminded that I suck at making babies. It makes me hate myself and my body even more. Again, a million and one emotions all the time. Guilt, shame, anger, betrayal… all kinda wrapped up in there. Until 3 or 4 years ago, I didn’t actually want a baby.  At all. (side note: my incredibly good friend, Katie, is fond of reminding me that whatever I swear I don’t want to happen, eventually happens. So please, let me take this time to say, “I never want to be rich. I never want to be rich. I never want to be rich.”  Okay, back to seriousness…)  I had no desire to be a mom, mainly because I thought I would be so terrible at it. My child would hate me; I wouldn’t want it; I’d be a horrible parent; I wouldn’t want to be involved in its life; there would be something wrong; I would miscarry; I wouldn’t be able to afford it… Lots of deep seeded shit that I had to wade through.  With a lot of help from my shrink and friends, I was able to release some of that pain.  I think I believed that if I let go of the pain and the unsubstantiated thoughts, everything would work out. However, Life does not work that way.  So now I’m a bit tangled between being angry that I can’t seem to produce the one thing my body was made to create and all of those funky, ugly thoughts and emotions bubbling up again. The fact of the matter is, I could write this and next month, be pregnant and have this really great kid/life.  But I’ve also thought that for the last 3 years.

People try and say really nice, helpful, comforting things. While I appreciate the thought, they aren’t helpful.  Some people close to me have offered to pray. That’s fine if you want to, but please don’t tell me about it. I don’t pray anymore. I feel like God’s kinda just thrown me into a bunch of shit the last several years, and I’m worn out. I’m burned out. I no longer belong. I have lost my tribe and I feel homeless. I’m not going to go to church and beg God for something that he already knows I want. Something I’ve prayed for long ago. I will not use him as my magic genie any more.

I’m depressed again and that frustrates the life out of me. I feel l have nothing left to give most days. I am mentally and physically worn out. I don’t enjoy the same things that I used to. I want just a very few select group of people around me so I kinda of retreat otherwise. I would love to just sleep all day. But I can’t. I get really needy when I get like this. I feel deserted and alone and like a failure. I feel like I bog down my marriage and friendships and life. Blah.

I dunno. So maybe there’s someone out there who sometimes feels alone or sad or wants to have a kid and can’t seem to.  Or maybe you think I’m as big of a loser as I do. Who knows. Feel free to comment or post your struggles anonymously.

Everyone Can Be An Enrique Iglesias Song

Few weeks ago I heard about little kids who are sold into the sex slave trade. Children whose parents sell them to help put food on the table and/or little girls who are sold a bill of goods about the 'job' they've been hired for. I heard about how they're forced to perform sex acts on men 15-20x a day.

Then I heard that there's a group of people who actually go in and rescue the kids (the youngest they've rescued is 5 yrs old).After they're rescued, the group (Destiny Rescue) counsels them and teaches them a real occupation so they can earn a living. I also heard that it's only $1500 to fund a rescue. So, I contacted the group and the lovely people at Destiny Rescue set up a website for me.

So, if you think kids being funneled through the sex slave business is wrong, you can donate $15 to help fund the rescue here.

If you really want to know what to get me for Christmas, you can click here.

If you finally cleaned out all of the change in your couch, you can click here.

If you still have trouble sleeping over the guilt you feel after not picking me up when my car broke down, you can click here.

If you're my mom and you don't trust hyperlinks, you can click here http://www.razoo.com/story/Rescue-A-Child-Jen-Stambaugh

something to believe in

I don't think it's any secret that I've been wrestling with my faith over the last couple of years. Maybe in ten years I'll look back and say, "remember when", but honestly, I hope not. I hope that I will never be continent to take everything at face value and yet, somehow embrace the idea that I believe in a living God who wants the best for us. Even if we think He's a joke, that he's still on our side. Looking out for our best interest and earnestly cares about 'the least of these', those who have been discarded by the church and society. No matter what I end up thinking about religion, I hope that I never ever loose site of loving the forgotten, misled, discarded and damned.

That being said, a few weeks ago I felt 'led' (whatever that means to you) to go to church. I rarely go anymore and I kinda prefer it that way. Anyway, got there and heard a moving, yet factual story of little girls, not that far away, who are forced to perform sex acts on men 15-20x a day. They're part of a very real, very rich, very public industry. From what I understand, the girls (and some little boys) end up there either because their parents sold them so they could have food or because the family was sold a bill of goods about where the girls were really going. Talk about the ultimate sacrifice...

Luckily, there's some decent people still left in the world who think that allowing children to be raped repeatedly isn't in their best interest. So they go out and rescue the little kids (the youngest was 5 yrs old) and then teach them how to actually sustain a real income at a real job and help them with counseling and shelter. And you know what the craziest part is? It's only $1500 to fund a rescue. That is mind blowing to me. It's only around $40 a month to help sustain the girls once they're rescued and like, $5-25 to buy jewelry that the girls make. How much more simple could they have made it?

As much of a distaste of religion that I have, helping fund the rescue of a kid seems like a true worship experience to me.

If you'd like to donate a couple of bucks to fund a rescue, click on this link.

If you'd like to find out more about the folks who do all of this, click here.

A New Perspective (cause all of that other stuff sure did suck)

I've been a little bummed lately. Feeling a little let down.

Last year was a year of discovery for me. Discovering who I was, what I believed, what I considered to be truth.

I began this year with a new sense of excitement. I certainly wasn't a renewed 'Jesus Freak' or something. I was just willing to take a gamble on a few things.

Turns out I suck at betting.

Through a series of very unfortunate incidents of miscommunication and one really crazy e-mail from a missionary in Africa, I ended up losing $1k on a plane ticket and had my heart (and mainly pride) shredded. Eventually we made amends, and I ended up on her "Dearest Girlfriends" monthly e-mail list. While I appreciated the gesture, I eventually ended up blocking her e-mail address a few months ago, as receiving monthly updates on a country and city that I was denied entrance to seemed to throw me into a tailspin. I don't hate anybody. I sincerely hope the ministry flourishes. I'll probably continue to still donate to it. I just found the whole thing to be more than disheartening and quite frankly, it just really pissed me off.

March/April I thought I was pregnant for a short stint. Lots of solid reasons why, but turns out I wasn't. Found out on April's Fool's Day. Actually, I thought I had a miscarriage. Turns out it was neither. SOB. All the research online seems to suggest that women can make up pregnancy symptoms when they just really want to have a kid. Some online comments are a little less kind. All my doctors assure me that I'm not crazy and it happens to a lot of people. I think that's when I began my month long binge eating phase...

Tried to put together a respite for kids with disabilities... Respite's something I gave up a couple of years ago and it was a major, major step for me to be willing to even be involved, let alone try and put one together. That never came to fruition. Felt humiliated. Probably no reason to, but I did.

I dunno know, some other personal and professional stuff happened and I just began to lose hope. I felt like I had 'put myself out there' so to say several times, trying to trust God again or just do something good for somebody and just got slapped in the face. I really kinda wanted to be like, "Hello God, throw me a bone here" (seriously, does anybody ACTUALLY say that phrase anymore?!)

I really don't even know how to pray anymore. I don't think I have the faith that anything good will come of it. I want the miracle for people, but for various reasons, I don't feel like it'll happen. Maybe God's depressed.

I read this on my friend Charlie Hines' facebook page this weekend and it got me thinking... Perhaps I just need a new perspective.

The day I prayed for salvation, I gave God permission to pursue me and intervene in my life as long as I live. I gave Him permission to assemble road blocks and guardrails to redirect my path. I gave Him permission to pursue me through the relationships He brought into my life and the pain and suffering that I'm exposed to on a daily basis. I love the fact that He never will quit on me and that ...

he believes in me even more than I do. So maybe you are out there wondering why all this is happening in your life. And maybe you prayed a prayer giving God permission to direct your path. Maybe you prayed it when you were a kid or maybe just a few weeks, months, or years ago. Maybe you have forgotten you ever prayed it. Well He did not. So God thanks for what I'm going through... It means you haven't quit on me.