I’m not wearing any makeup. It’s a perk of my new job. I also run errands, soaking up the glorious freedom of self-employment, with my hair un-did and in yoga pants. But that doesn’t make me any less beautiful. (gasp) Anyone else feeling awkward that I just called myself beautiful?
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When I started my freelance business, I assumed it would be tough. It’s a lousy economy, an impossible time for aspiring writers and an all-around bad idea for a perfectionist who hates making mistakes. I thought trusting God in this decision meant persevering through mistakes, rejection and dried-up bank accounts.
But I was wrong.
I have made mistakes, and I will continue to do so (hopefully my clenched teeth, balled fists and the pitter-patter of a heart in overdrive will ease up). But the rejection has been overshadowed by opportunity! I’ve had referrals, inquiries and contracts to sign. I love the work that people are actually paying me to do! My days aren’t filled with scavenging for paid gigs; now I’m beginning to think about being strategic with my time and energy, and only following up on jobs that make sense for me.Trusting God will inevitably mean persevering when things get uncomfortable or even painful. But right now, trusting Him means enjoying the gift of this season.
Check out more pictures like the one I took of the lemons above, here. It’s a new season, indeed!
Here’s a status update that’s been peppered across my facebook newsfeed:
WELCOME TO THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA – Press 1 for English. Press 2 to disconnect until you learn to speak English. And remember only two defining forces have ever offered to die for you, JESUS CHRIST. And the AMERICAN SOLDIER. One died for your soul, the other for your freedom. If you agree… copy and paste in your status.
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By many accounts, people of Haiti have cried out to Jesus, even praising God for blessings in this tragedy. Blessings like still being alive.
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Shhh! Don’t tell me. I haven’t seen the finale of The Biggest Loser yet. Week after week, I enjoy the workouts (last chance workout!), cringe at the product placements, fast forward through the yapping and weigh-in suspense, and tear up during the heartfelt stories and pounds shed. With 13.4 million viewers, this show has struck a chord.
That chord sounds to me like a lot of hurting people whom the church has failed.
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In my head
Thank God I wore spandex and not cotton, so my sweat won’t be as visible. That’s what I get for doing a spin class before yoga — a whole lotta sweat. Nothing worse than someone behind me staring at a sweaty rump. I’m not down dog with that.
Thank God for working out. And endorphins. And water. And stretching.
And my yoga mat has dog hair on it. How embarrassing. Time to size up the rest of the class. I definitely fit in better than the girl with soccer shorts and her socks still on. But the yogi in bamboo pants next to her can probably tell I’m an imposter. Can probably smell my non-organic, full-dairy latte out of the disposable cup from earlier.
Is that a big Buddha at the front of the room? And we’re all facing it? What are those beads for? And the incense?
Ahh, yoga. So relaxing. I’m so hip and cultured right now. My quads are tight. My butt is feeling the burn. I hope my arms don’t tremble uncontrollably and reveal how weak I am. Time to engage my core.
Did she say third eye? Heart center? What the hell is a lower chakra?
Her voice is so soothing. She wants me to invite air in and welcome new breaths. What a fluffy way to tell us to breathe.
Connect with the divine? Feel an inner calm and know that my true nature is loving and good? Experience union with the universe? Blah, blah, blah. Just release us from the plank pose before my arms melt.
Jesus is what connects us with the Divine. Not yoga. I’m a sinner, and without Jesus there’s nothing good in me. God created the universe, but the universe isn’t God.
I can go to yoga classes and not believe what the instructor says. My practice can just be physical and not spiritual. It’s good to experience other people’s beliefs and learn about their faith.
Yoga means “union” and was created to unite people with their divine consciousness, their transcendent selves. That’s not rooted in Truth. I can’t separate the foundation of yoga from the physical practice. I can’t make yoga mean something different to me — it’s not all relative.
What kind of Christian would I be if I warded off yoga because I didn’t agree with parts of it? A close-minded, judgmental one. Plus, I already paid for six weeks of classes. I can decide to not do yoga after that.
What’s next? A little Buddha for our house? Meditation instead of prayer to connect with the universe instead of God? It’s a slippery slope.
My faith in and relationship with Christ should be strong enough to stand against conflicting beliefs. If a little yoga affects my Christianity, that’s a problem with my faith, not yoga.
Why would I invite something into my life that conflicts with what the Spirit is telling me?
Shut up. This is dead pose. Time to wipe all thoughts from my mind. Then a namaste, a bow, and time to go.
Dead pose. Interesting. You do realize you’re bowing to an idol? Buddha. Literally.
I see it in his eyes. Past the piles of beer cans and cigarette butts. Regardless of his controlled saunter down the street to the convenience store at 7 a.m. Deeper than his scruffy beard, long hair and dirty wife beater. I see the alcoholism in his eyes.
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Vernal Fall in Yosemite National Park. Picture taken by my hubs.
If I’ve learned one thing from the Dog Whisperer, it’s that calm, submissive dogs get that way because they have plenty of exercise. So, I walk Kona.
She sniffs at dirt, runs toward bushes, is gaga for wood posts and tries to lick cigarettes. But most annoyingly — and in conflict with my idea of a casual stroll with a puppy — she tries to chew on her leash as we walk.
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Does anyone have a good site for searching Bible verses? I used to use biblegateway.com, but it appears that no one has the rights to post any non-King James Version scripture online. This is a day I could use some scripture.
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