Money Can't Buy Happiness, But it Can Buy Victoria's Secret...(and that's kind of the same thing)

Pretty much all of last year I blogged about “the gap.” No. I am not talking about the clothing store (note the lower case letters). I was talking about a gap, a hole within myself. It was something that I felt after Matt and I broke up.

I tried desperately all summer and fall to fill that gap. I tried to fill it with friends. I tried to fill it with a rebound boyfriend. I tried to fill it with Victoria’s Secret.

And let me tell you, none of those things were able to make that gap go away, although, I have to admit, Victoria’s came the closest. I mean, seriously, how can anyone be sad when walking out of the store carrying that pink stripped bag, overflowing with pink and red tissue paper? Psh! Not this girl! So yes, VS did a better job of filling “the gap,” than even the rebound boyfriend did.

But, getting back on track here, I remember sitting at my favorite park several months ago, pondering that aching void within me, wondering what I could put in it. I realized then that the more I tried to fill that gap, the wider it grew.

Well yesterday I went back to the park for the first time in months. It was a warm day. I had just come back from an amazing church service at a new church. And now here I was, all alone, sitting outside reading The Beautiful and the Damned.

And you know what I discovered? I was SO happy. I have been happy for several weeks now, I’d even venture to say all year so far. Yet, I hadn't really stopped to think about the happiness. So, here I was, back at my favorite epiphany spot, and I knew right then and there that the gap had closed. The wound has scabbed over, and I am no longer a broken person. I am whole again.

A situation that would have made me sad a few months ago, sitting all alone at a park, spending the day in only my own company, actually made me happy. I realized that I wasn't alone and I wasn't lonely. I felt satisfied with myself. For the first time in my life, I’m finally okay with me, myself, and I.

Now that’s not to say that I wouldn't have loved to have had some company. If a friend had come along, I would have enjoyed that just as much, but the important thing is that, I didn't need anyone else to be happy.

And I think that’s a big deal.

God's NOT Dead

“God’s not dead. He is surely alive.”

Those are the lyrics for one of the newest Newsboys songs, which is featured in the new movie God’s Not Dead, scheduled to be released in March. After I met with the Newsboys yesterday (I know, I have the best job ever!), I started to think about the concept of God being dead.

What an idea. I mean, that’s not something I think I've ever really thought about. God…being…dead? The fact that Christ died and then was resurrected to life is the foundation of our entire faith. How can God be dead?

He can’t. He is alive and well and “roaring like a lion,” as the song says. And He’s alive in me. I've seen miracles, little, everyday miracles. I've heard His voice—His very voice. I've seen His handwriting. And I've felt Him moving within me, speaking to me, guiding my steps and my life. And on dark nights, or when I’m walking alone, I can feel Him. His protection over me, around me, is an incredible force. I know I am watched over, protected.

And the number one reason why I know without a doubt that God is alive and well is the joy that I have within me. Life’s been hard. Yet, even when I've been unhappy, I've still been joyful. And I know that joy comes from God. I’m no theologian, but I know, deep down in my soul that the place where the joy resides is the same place where God’s Spirit resides in me.

And that joy has always been there. Sometimes it was hard to see because it was shrouded in my own depression and unhappiness, but even in my darkest moments, I knew that the joy was there, and that was all I needed to get through.

And I’m happy once again, but most of all, way deeper, way beyond this shallow happiness, is a much deeper joy that screams out, “God’s not dead, He is surely alive!”

And I can’t even begin to explain it. 

She Loved Him

This is a small section from my novel. I'm just trying out some repetition. What do you think?

She loved him in the way that we all love our first time: unselfishly, thoroughly, unreservedly. She loved him with all the strength and power of her youth, and with all the passion and abandon of a wild thing. She loved him quietly, in a reverent, cathedral-like way, the silence only interrupted by murmurs of her affection. Yet, at the same time, she loved him loudly, in a shout-it-from-the-rooftops kind of way. She loved him in a free, campfire-on-the beach way; a rolling-in-the-sand-on-a-blanket way; a running-until-you-are-breathless way. Her love for him was like the way a little girl plucks the petals off of a daisy, knowing without a doubt that the he-loves-me-not petals don’t even really exist. And she loved him for who he was, who he was becoming, and most of all for who he was going to be. Her youth and inexperience in life didn’t bridle her love as it might have, but instead, it gave it wings. And with those wings she soared, never thinking that she might have to land again one day—never caring. 

A Really Weird Post Sort of About Doctor Who...But Not Really

From time to time I think that everybody struggles with the idea of their own mortality. I know that I do. I can hear it now, some of my friends are like, “You’re in your twenties! Why are you thinking about death?”

Well, I’m not really, but ever since I was 15 and spent a month attached to a heart monitor, I've lived with a today-could-be-the-last-day mentality. That’s why I’m such a driven person. I don’t want to waste my time. None of us know how long we have.

And I guess that recently it’s just gotten a little bit stronger. I have a very minor heart problem, and although it’s not something that is dangerous to me, it is something that I feel every day. Although as a twenty-something I have the mentality of “Oh! I want to go play, and run, and dance, and skate!” my heart is like, “Oh gosh I’m winded…Please give me a break!” And even though I really have little to worry about, it does make me feel and think about my own mortality at times.

Recently I've been totally swept up in Doctor Who mania and have been watching 2 or 3 episodes a day. Well, I finished the “first” season, and went on to the episode where the Doctor is finishing his regeneration (into David Tennant), and it made me think. When the Doctor regenerates, he passes from one physical form into another. His personality, his memories, and the essence of who he is never really goes away. He just changes physical form and sort of moves on into another life.

I think that this is a lot like what death is like for a Christian. If you are born again, you don’t have anything to fear in death. As 2 Corinthians 2-4 (NLT) says, We grow weary in our present bodies, and we long for the day when we will put on our heavenly bodies like new clothing. For we will not be spirits without bodies, but we will put on new heavenly bodies. Our dying bodies make us groan and sigh, but it's not that we want to die and have no bodies at all. We want to slip into our new bodies so that these dying bodies will be swallowed up by everlasting life.

It’s kind of like the Doctor. He never really dies, not in the traditional sense of what most people think of death, where a person passes from this life, never to be seen again. Instead, he just changes forms, receives a new body. And as Christians, it will be the same for us. We don’t need to fear death. We’ll just be “changing forms,” if you will, and passing on into a new sort of adventure—a better one, I think.

Don’t I just sound like a fun person to watch TV with? *winks*