This is Very False:

The conquerors are the passionate ones.

They go in hard and give all for the win.

No one ever accused Napoleon of not giving a damn.

But we can't all be victorious, can we?

And I, in all self-consciousness and fear of defeat,

I put on apathy and with head held high,

I and my heart will survive.

"Interestingly, 'growing up' is largely a matter of learning to hide our spirit behind our face, eyes, and language so that we can evade and manage others to achieve what we want and avoid what we fear."

Here is truth:

True love always wants to be known.

Fear and love cannot coexist.

"This heart that you have stolen and left here broken."

God brought me back to this place again, a place of acceptance and concession to my own finitude. Perhaps I'll elaborate in the future, but for now, this quote from Lewis is my witness:

I am a safety-first creature. Of all arguments against love none makes so strong an appeal to my nature as “Careful! This might lead you to suffering.”

To my nature, my temperament, yes. Not to my conscience. When I respond to that appeal I seem myself to be a thousand miles away from Christ. If I am sure of anything I am sure that His teaching was never meant to confirm my congenital preference for safe investments and limited liabilities. I doubt whether there is anything in me that pleases Him less. And who could conceivably begin to love God on such a prudential ground—because the security (so to speak) is better? Who could even include it among the grounds for loving? Would you choose a wife or a friend—if it comes to that, would you choose a dog—in this spirit? One must be outside of the world of love, of all loves, before one thus calculates. Eros, lawless Eros, preferring the Beloved to happiness, is more like Love Himself than this.

Christ did not teach and suffer that we might become, even in the natural loves, more careful of our own happiness. If a man is not uncalculating towards the earthly loves whom he has seen, he is none the more likely to be so towards God whom he has not. We shall draw nearer to God, not by trying to avoid the sufferings inherent in all loves, but by accepting them and offering them to Him; throwing away all defensive armor. If our hearts need to be broken, and if He chooses this as the way in which they should break, so be it.

Oh, what a difference a month makes.

It has been a while, I guess. I've been neglectful. And yet, so much has happened, I can hardly express it all in blog posts.

First, I experienced Urbana '09 at the end of December. It wasn't shocking or revelatory or especially controversial... In fact, I thought it was beautifully biblical and in every way challenging. All in all, I felt a strong confirmation that I'll never be satisfied doing anything but missions. Now, that's not remarkable in any way--"missions" is pretty broad. But I do feel quite confident that I will spend my life doing some kind of work overseas, hopefully involving economic development and definitely focused on being part of people's lives. That's what I want to do, that's what I feel called to do.

Second, Libby and I made it to England on our own and managed to get around London and now Oxford with ease. It's fun to feel capable of navigating a new country on my own, but even more than that, it's marvelous to feel at home here. I can't attribute that sense of home to any great international sense that I have, but only to God's grace and the generosity of our host family here in Oxford.

Which brings me to the third element-- the people we've been spending time with here in England are a Godsend and a blessing. Steve and Jenny Hellyer are our dad and mom for the month and they are such examples of humble servants yearning for Christ. They radiate love wherever they go.

And I can't forget to mention the other lovely people from Taylor who are here with me: Dr. Ricke is fabulous and hilarious and I enjoy interacting with him and learning from him. Lib is the best J-term roommate ever and we get along as well as an old married couple. Caleb is easily one of my favorite people in existence (and that's even besides teaching us how to play Canasta). New lovely friend in my life is Kirsten Rose Wilhelm: bright, beautiful, and with a heart that's sold out for Christ. And my tutor, Diego, is gracious and patient with me and I'm learning so much.

Things haven't been all rosy, though. In fact, a lot of thing have been more challenging than ever--I've been facing obstacles and bearing burdens that I've never experienced before. All of that deserves a few posts all to themselves, really. But there's this amazingly difficult thing called trust (much like the faith that I can't rationalize) that hurts a lot of the time and always feels uncomfortable...and I've wrestled that beast with complete desperation at times in recent days. And even when I've submitted, it has felt like Jacob's hip being put out of joint as he wrestled the angel at Bethel.

Oh, God has been so present lately, even though I've often felt blind and far from Him. I'm sometimes afraid of what may come because I know it won't be anything easy. He doesn't ask for the simple things that are easy to sacrifice. No, He requires amputations sometimes. But I know good things will come, things that will give Him glory. And that is the purpose and joy of my being so I will choose to seek it.

This Is My Life, This Is My Family.

Today has been full of random activites. I slept over at Hoags's house last night which was fabulous. She and I went to pick up a book from Borders, but they didn't have it so we went to Barnes and Noble. Now, we didn't just pick up a book. That's impossible. We spent a total of maybe two and a half hours in the book stores. It was marvelous.

This morning I drove home in a tizzy because I had left my wallet (with driver's license and debit card) at home the day before. I left Downer's Grove with probably 3/16 of a tank of gas. Thank heaven I made it home.

After I got home I rushed to the mall to meet Mom and Grandma in order to find a coat for Gma to buy me for Christmas. (Unfortunately, surprises are non-existent in the world of practical Christmas presents.) I liked the first one I tried on, but Mom said, "Try on some more!" So I did for about a half hour, then ended up buying the first one anyway.

Then I came home and made banana-chocolate chip bread.

At one point while Lara and I were watching Dirty Jobs while my bread baked I asked the brilliant and wise 13-year-old a question I've been pondering for the past few days. "Lara, is it just me, or is our family really nuts??"

Honestly, I have been wondering. For example, my dad is wonderful and extremely eccentric. Sometimes it's hard to hold a conversation with him because he has so many things going through his mind at one time that he can't focus on what's at hand. I think I'm a lot like him, actually. And he's not the only one, but my other family members read this blog. :)

But Lara's answer was, as I said, wise and brilliant. "Yes, our family is nuts." "Oh good, it's not just me," I said. "But," she said, "you're one of those nuts family members."

Yes, I know it. I'm very aware of it. My eccentricities are rather glaring. For example, I write compulsively and I talk to myself a LOT. I think if someone observed my life 24/7, they'd probably think I was schitzophrenic. Also, I am obsessive about books and knowledge and learning. I found a book in B&N yesterday that was the "Human Anatomy Coloring Book." I would have bought it if I hadn't forgotten my wallet at home. I thought how much I'd love to study A&P on the plane ride to London in two weeks.

And these are only the eccentricities that I'm actually willing to write about for all the world (at least, all of those on the world who read this blog) to know. There are more, trust me.

But Lara said something else that was brilliant and wise. "I wish everybody wouldn't try so hard to be on their best behavior so we could all realize that everybody's family is nuts." And she's so right. My family is definitely nuts, but I bet yours is too--no matter how perfect they seem.

Caroline and I went for a walk at Izaak Walton this afternoon. It was full of silliness and deep conversation and made me remember how much I love being home. We talked about eccentricities and she said that her eccentricities make her need grace from others and my eccentricities make me need to give grace to others. An accurate distinction, I think. (We also talked about her poor logic as she came to the conclusion that anything white is a toilet. Then I gave in and we gloried in the little white toilets falling from the sky. Yes, I'm serious. Yes, we were kidding.)

Anyway, there's a lot of crazy in my genes. I'd like to blame my family for my own eccentricites because they bring it out in me, for sure.

*Note: I just took a break from writing to go eat dinner with the family. Oh, heavens.

It takes a lot of grace to love them. I'm sure they give me a lot of grace, too (like when I forget my wallet at home). But as I told Caroline, the fact that our great God loves all of us in our absurdities is only a greater testament to His mercy and compassion. Who deserves such love? Who deserves such sacrifice? Not one, me least of all. And that's the beauty of it.

Lighthouse Commissioning Service

In all of those old-school psychological thrillers (or maybe I'm thinking of ACME cartoons...) there's a scene when the hero is standing under a chandelier or an anvil or a bucket of boiling hot tar that is hanging by a frayed rope that will break at any moment. Well, hanging over my head right now is a sharp, 2-ton, crushing three-papers-and-a-physics-test-all-in-the-same-freaking-week. However, I feel compelled to write a quick little scribble of text in reflection on the Lighthouse commissioning service.

First of all, it was beautiful and thrilling how many people came out to encourage our Lighthouse (short-term missions) teams tonight. It's a rough week for most people (like me) but if there's one thing missionaries need (besides funding :) ) it's prayer and encouragement. The theater where the service was held was packed out, all there of their own volition and all with a passion and a heart for the importance of missions. Beautiful.

The music took on a new, tangible meaning for me, too. The "generation rising to take its place" was real, composed of my peers and friends. They cried for God to "fill my heart and make me clean, open up my eyes to things unseen. Show me how to love like you love me." They will need it. My friends will need to be filled up, to be satisfied by Christ's love when everything else is unfamiliar and maybe even frightening, and to move past their concern for themselves to see what God is showing them through images of disease, poverty, godlessness, and unrest. I hope we mean all the words we sing in chapel on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, but I know that those men and women who will represent Taylor University most certainly meant those words together tonight.

Finally, Scott Moeschberger showed me what I want my future in missions to look like. He spoke from Micah 6:8, a verse most people around here know quite well: "What does the Lord require of you? To act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God." But people the world over cry out for justice. Hamas and the IRA demand "justice." How is the Christian's justice different from the world's justice? It is motivated and dictated by the Love of Christ, the loyal, faithful, undying and self-sacrificing grace and mercy of our own dear God. And not only that, but when we give of ourselves we must do so with only Him in mind, demonstrating that we are nothing but servants of the great Judge, the one whose Truth will reign forever over the righteous and the wicked.

We speak of the "passion" of Christ on the cross. What is passion? Passion is love lived out, freely given from sacrifice and the depth of our souls. Passion is action motivated by faithfulness to the Holy Father who calls us and demands our very lives. Maybe it's easy (though I doubt it) to have passion for one month on a Lighthouse trip. But what else will you commit to your God?

This morning in church, Jason Dorsey (*sigh* my favorite) said that, yes, when you become a Christian, God will indeed require you to give up drinking or your sexual promiscuity or your gambling. But I'm sorry, that's only the easy part. GOD DEMANDS YOUR LIFE. Don't take this Christianity lightly. It goes beyond tithing or resisting temptation. When you sing, "Show me how to love like you have loved me," you had better expect Him to do that--because He will and it will hurt. It will be painful. If you turn your life over to God, He will turn your life upside down. HE WILL MESS WITH YOU.

Mercy, justice, humility, love, and passion are the road to which you commit yourself. Don't fool yourself when you try not to fear where God will take you. Don't diminish the call He has placed on your life. It will try you as the cross tried our Lord.

But know that His love and truth will be your comfort in the darkest of times. He will never lead you where He won't accompany you. He will not require of you what He did not do for us Himself. And wherever you go, even if you don't have an auditorium full of brothers and sisters to comfort you, live in the confidence that He will bless you richly for responding to His call. He will know you and you will know Him. You will be His witness and He will be your God.

Please pray for Sarah Albinson, Julie Coddington, Julie Hogan, Kayla Cange, and others who will be traveling to foreign countries in January to serve on Lighthouse teams.

For Caroline

Hiding--not anymore.
I won't stay if you don't play your part.
It's more than just me, it's more than you.
Falling in love needs two.

I'm gone--until you realize
I'm gone--if you can see it
I'm gone--but don't you fear.
I've left you in stronger hands.

If you look, you'll see me waiting
Hoping you'll take a second glance.
Because that light in your eyes?
I can see it from a mile off.

We talk lightly of love.
Some even call it a game.
I hope you win every time
But what if that means I lose?

The LOVE Chapter

I have a confession to make. See, I've been working my way through Corinthians these days. This morning I made my way to the prayer chapel at a still-dark 7am. After I prayed with Sarah and read a couple Psalms, I opened up to page 959 in my little green leather-bound ESV pocket Bible: the Love chapter, I Corinthians 13.

Okay, here's the confession part: I was tempted to skip over it. YES. Really. I very nearly skipped the whole chapter. I thought, "I've ready this SO many times, I memorized it when I was probably eight years old, and it's so generic and clichéd that I'm positive I won't get anything out of it." (Wow. I'm arrogant. What a bitch! *pardon my language*)

Fortunately, I stopped myself before that went any further. Love is one of the defining qualities of Christianity. If this passage is too overly read to make any difference for anyone, what can the rest of scripture possibly offer me?

So, at the risk of blasphemy, I rewrote this scripture so it would apply particularly to my life. This is what I came up with:

If I compete in Ethics Bowl and have all the right answers but have no Love, I am like a noisy alarm clock.

If the girls on my wing come to me for advice and I provide great insight but do so with pride and with no Love in my heart, I am nothing.

If I'm diligent and disciplined and all my professors adore me,

if I admit when I'm wrong and accept the consequence,

if I do all these things, but have no compassion or understanding, merely doing the deeds without doing them for other people or even for God, I have no Love in my heart and it counts for NOTHING.

With Love, God makes me patient, giving others the benefit of the doubt, sacrificing my own interests, respecting the needs of others first. The Love God gives me does not celebrate my deceitful victories but even when it is bad for me, embraces what is right in His sight. This God-gift of Love can endure all hardships, trusts in God's people, longs for the revelation of truth in and through God's people, and will suffer anything the world throws its way.

Love continues and persists and endures. It lives past rough times. All these things you do in Jesus' name will become history and meet their end. After all, it is only human effort (though God works in it.) But when God's perfection works through us to show and give and do this LOVE that He calls us to, it will last forever in His books of Life.

We were like infants, babbling nonsense that means nothing; but God makes us real men and women and transforms our babble into words, and words of Love. Our understanding of God is so imperfect...but He will fix that through His Love, and we will know Him so well that we can't even dream of it now.

See? These all are good - Faith, Hope, Love. But one will out-do the others in glorifying the Father. Maybe you wouldn't guess - it's Love.

Bibliophiles

I'm so proud to come from a family of biblioholics. We are quite literally addicted to the written word. I think of the one ring...how Bilbo said, "I'd just like to hold it..." Yeah, that's my family and books.

For example, my sister got a book called "The Life of the Mind" for my dad for Father's Day. I picked it up and started reading the back and a certain giddiness overcame me. There's a very pure pleasure in simply holding a book that is obviously a vessel of wisdom and knowledge. And it's not just me, either. Same aforementioned sister received a philosophy book after graduation from one of her profs and she showed it to Dad. He said, "Can I see it for a minute?" Sally replied, "No, I'll never get it back!!" So Dad asked, "Well...can I at least hold it?"

Ria and I were sitting on the screen porch (I was engrossed in Fear and Trembling) and she interrupted to ask, "Do you have a huge list of books to read this summer?" To which I excitedly and enthusiastically rattled off my (growing) list of Readables for the next three months. She smiled at me and said, "I thought so."

I love my family.

"The pursuit of what is true..."

Recently I embarked on a vendetta against the word “pursue” in the context of romance. I really hate it. It’s such an inappropriate word to describe true (i.e. real) love. Webster says, “pursue: 1) to follow with enmity 2) to follow usu. determinedly in order to overtake, capture, kill, or defeat… 4) to seek to follow, obtain, attain to or accomplish.” It’s very similar to “persuade” which is “1) to induce by argument, entreaty; to win over by an appeal to one’s reason and feelings; bring to belief, certainty or conviction; argue into an opinion or procedure...” etc etc.

“Pursuit” or “persuasion” should not be necessary because it presumes two things. First, I’m no animal and you’re no hunter. I won’t be a trophy; I won’t be conquered; not something passively surrendered. I, for one, will not be prevailed upon. (You could read gender roles into this whole vendetta, but I don't think that's necessary.) I will not be “convinced” of someone’s goodness or of the rightness of a certain relationship. It should be obvious. If I give myself up, I guarantee that my surrender will be active. I will initiate my own self-sacrifice. I will go willingly because it will be something that I deem worthy of my very LIFE.

I think what bugs me about part 1 of the problem comes out of a stereotype that culture perpetuates through chick flicks and all that nonsense that bugs me so much. The stereotype is that “women don’t know what they want.” In all the stories, men try to figure out what women want but are unsuccessful because not even women supposedly know what they want. So then the man just ends up sweeping this girl off her feet because she has no idea of what she’s really searching for.

This denies the first rule of philosophy: know thyself. Not only should we know our weaknesses, our strengths, our purpose, our passions, our origins, our values and our worth, but we should know what we want. It should come out of our whole “practical ontology,” as Jason Dorsey said in church yesterday. And though this may sound arrogant or presumptuous, I do believe that I know what I want. I want goodness.

That leads into the second presumption, which is that I need to be convinced of someone’s virtue. No, goodness does not hide itself. Like a city on a hill, goodness cannot be disguised or obscured and therefore does not need to be drawn out or revealed. I’ve consciously decided that I don’t seek friends or romance or some sort of secondary fulfillment. I seek goodness and goodness is apparent, clear, and straightforward.

Not to say that I’m lacking any of the former, however. Maybe my standard sounds too high, but I do know some who meet it. No, those people come more naturally and more wholly when it is part of the greater pursuit. The men and women whom I call my friends are people I’ve met along the way, even stumbled across inadvertently. Yet the common purpose that we share, the passion for something beyond ourselves is the ultimate objective, not one another. Pursue goodness.

I’ve struggled to find a good replacement word though. Whatever it is, it must be something that expresses mutuality as well as the context of the action as part of another bigger pursuit. I think the only word that is appropriate is “sacrifice.” There’s a sense of meeting in the middle, of each giving something—giving of oneself, giving of your own desires or self-interest in order to serve others. That is what love is, not a chase or a hunt or an unveiling. It’s consistency, willingness, action, and daily dying to the self.

So much goodness.

Sometimes, nothing beats those hour-long guts-spilling conversations with Mom.

Resolute

Determination is only weakened by waiting and my patience is already thin.

The best things in life don't just happen to you. You have to seek them out.

I used to plan my life to a T, but I found out you can’t plan people and people are the best part of life. So I’ve mostly ditched planning these days.

For the last 9 years of my life, I've spent each day in constant anticipation of what's to come. I look forward to this, schedule that, need to know how something will turn out in the end.

For the last 9 months, I've felt like every day I've been on the brink of something. God has been preparing me for each new day and something marvelous always seemed to be on the horizon.

Today, I'm suddenly struck that waiting is over. I'm done planning my life and constantly waiting for something new to happen.

I'm suddenly struck with the painful thought that after May 23, my life will never be the same as it is in this period of love and learning. Suddenly, I'm afraid once more that I will lose something at the end of the spring semester (though it hasn't even begun yet.)

I was always waiting for something to come...now I'm afraid that I'll lose what I've gained...is life really always this unsettling?? Is it constant flux, unending anticipation of change? It seems to demand a patience that I am so unable to procure in myself. I sometimes feel like I can't deal with it. I just want things to stop for a moment and let the world revolve without anything else changing.


And yet...


"Nothing ever really ends but something new doesn't begin. When something ends in our sight, it begins somewhere else where we can't hear it or see it or feel it."

With the threat of things going badly also comes the possibility that they will become even better somehow. (I could make an economics illustration here, but I'll stand against that impulse.)

Anyway, I'm done making plans. What bull! My plans are so pitiful. And then I try to make them come true by my own measures, though that's never miracle enough to be of any good. Forget that trash.

I Am Learning to Be Apathetic

Is this a bad thing--to let my head take over in all cases? What do I lose but the potential for heartache?

Okay, I'm not really apathetic. Nah, I'm frequently passionate, and about a hundred things. I'm an extremist. It's better to soar in the heights and crash into pain and suffering than never leave the ground. You learn more by struggling and failing, I guess.

And I know this too. I know from experience and from others' experiences. I guess it's hard each times...to realize it all over again.

But seriously, I am shifting or maybe drifting from this in a way. I definitely try to avoid hyper-emotionalism more than maybe I used to. Seems like the more serious issues are the ones when I try to keep to thoughts rather than feelings. (Haha...I suppose that's WAY logical of me.)

Is it a bad thing to seek emotional security over what seems like a more sensitive life? Usually I'd say yes. And economics once again come to mind: quite often, with risk comes reward, but do not create an unnecessary risk...

My thoughts must remain in check, tethered to the Holy Spirit and to wisdom. Now, that doesn't mean I'm safe from suffering. Hell, no. Sometimes my greatest, most intense passions come from thoughts and knowledge than from anything else. I don't need sensation or over-sentimental emotion to be vulnerable and raw and subject to pain.

I admit, I thrive on risks and I'm emboldened when I realize my self-consciousness. Yet despite the certain necessity of vulnerability, it has a rational limit.

Not Anti-Oxidants and High School Chemistry

Free Agent.

That's me, that's what I am. I operate independently (to a degree). And it surprises me sometimes. Sometimes I don't even realize it...or maybe I deny it. And as often as not, it frustrates me because it's sure as hell not easy. Yet--

Certain friends speak wisdom into our lives and we don't even realize it until some time later. I've processed and analyzed: "a bold woman." ...Hm. Wow. Strong words. I didn't ever imagine... And at the moment, I only thought, well, bold in your perspective doesn't really reflect or understand the insecurity I hide.

But "bold" doesn't mean you have no insecurity, just as courage isn't the absence of fear. Perhaps it's the strength to overcome that earns the title.

I could write a whole commentary on how this manifests itself in my own life and social culture and the lives of others I see around me... yeah, that's a lot of stuff to say. But at least, I realize that the thing it enables me to do more than anything is to be myself. I don't think everyone sees it like that, whether in me or in others. But it's like that poem I wrote years back. "...take my hand and run."

"He is himself. Love it."

The Philosophizing Movie-Watcher

I just finished a more personal journal entry which I won't share here, but it caused me to do a bit of integrative thinking (my favorite kind).

I was journaling about how certain things have changed my perspective of late on a particular subject. That particular entry was sparked by a movie I watched, Tsotsi. It's a unique movie about a young criminal in South Africa...but it didn't provoke thoughts about social justice or crime or poverty or what-have-you. The thoughts and ideas I came up with may seem a long way off from the point of the movie, actually.

But at the moment, I can't share those ideas. The problem is this: I don't watch movies like most people watch movies. When I'm at school, I have no time for watching movies and when I do, they're usually just because everyone else happens to be watching a movie and I never really care what the movie is. (For instance, Cool Runnings or something like that.) Usually those movies are just fun with little to really process and think about. When I'm home and I have time to watch movies more often, I never have anyone to watch them with me. My parents are rather sensitive to rough content in movies. My dad (Lord love him) doesn't like a lot of f-words and he usually avoids anything with sexual content. Well, that's okay, I guess. But I am compelled that we live in an R-rated world and it's naive to go through life avoiding certain things--like f-words. And my little sisters are obviously too young for most of the stuff I watch.

So I watch movies by myself most of the time. I see it more as an academic exercise than entertainment. There's more to a movie than jsut what moves your emotions and that's what I enjoy so much.

But the problem is that I watch these movies by myself--and get more out of it than I would from watching High School Musical *3* or Dr. Quinn: Medicine Woman (my sisters' pick)--but have no one to share it with. Unfortunately, I don't think that's what philosophizing is for. The purpose of any revelation is to share it with others. "Now go, and tell about what you have seen here." That's my calling: to share with others the depth and essence of my experiences--whether firsthand, vicarious, spiritual, personal, emotional, etc.

So the question remains: is this the right way to do things? I believe movies are meant to be shared with others. Is it worth it to watch by myself and revel in the philosophy that comes but not be able to share it with others? Or would it be better to not experience it and not have this passion that I simply can't communicate to others? I will have to explore and find out.

A Study in Form and Qualitative Definition

I was recently speaking with a 21 year-old male friend who described his interactions with “women,” meaning other females on my college campus. My internal reaction was, “Oh. Does that include me now, too?” Have I reached that point where I’m now a woman? When the hell did that happen??

When I was little, I avoided calling myself a “woman” because I always thought it demonstrated immaturity to presume to be more mature than you are. I guess I still think that. But the problem with “woman” now is different and more significant.

If I’m going to call myself a woman, I’d like to know what that means. I would state the obvious to say that society offers us skewed examples and inadequate (and sometimes downright false) definitions of woman and man. So where does sexual definition come from?

Am I “feminine” because of my physical composition? Is it because I have ovaries instead of testicles? Is it based in appearance? Here I am, sitting in jeans and a hoodie with no makeup on. I don’t think I look “feminine” today. Yet I retain that quality somehow.

Is it mental then? Is it related to maternal instinct? What of the women for whom motherhood is not instinctive? If this quality is mental (inherent to the way a woman thinks), how does that fit into the assertion that women can behave and perform as well as a man?

Is this quality emotional? I’ve always feared that possibility. People often scoff at females for being overly emotional. I scoff at women for being overly emotional. I hate most chick flicks because they encourage the emotional roller coaster that many women put themselves on.

*If I may take a moment to rant, I have to say that Grey’s Anatomy is one example of the self-imposed emotional overload. Sex, love, affairs, infidelity, flings, drinking binges, putting people’s lives at risk because someone can’t put personal desires aside…

Anyway, if femininity is emotional quality, can something be overly feminine? If an object can be too much or too little of something, is the quality itself inherently neutral?
What about the etymology of the word? WoMan. Is femininity merely a complement to masculinity? (I confess, sometimes I’m nearly convinced of this and it frustrates me. It doesn’t bother me so much that my significance or some essential part of my soul is incomplete or unrealized without the presence of a man; the struggle is that I may be incomplete but he isn’t. If we are both incomplete without each other (here I speak of woman and man as general beings, not any two people specifically), I could see some bigger purpose in that, some design, equality, and intention.

Perhaps that brings me to my final option. I’ve left one possibility for last. What if femininity is spiritual? What if it is a quality of my soul and therefore, part of my ultimate purpose in life? The question that follows is, how does that impact my goals, relationships, role, and desires?

So I cannot define this thing that I am or soon will be: feminine and woman. Even so, I cannot help but desire it and admire it. Perhaps my desire is an element of my femininity. But I confess, when my friend--someone I indeed deem a man himself--spoke of "women," I felt pride. I was proud of this quality and entity that he holds in esteem, of this thing that I have spent my entire life coming into (to whatever degree I have attained it at this point in my life).

This is merely an introduction to the thoughts that concern me regarding my own identity as well as this thing/quality/characteristic that God designed but society has skewed to the point that I no longer understand it. I don't know if I can answer these questions. I don't know what "experts," other women, men, or God think about the answers to these proposals. I may have to content myself with non-answers; maybe I'll even come to the answer by simply discovering what femininity is not. Whatever my odds for success, this is an exploration that is worthy of my time and energy and I think I want to really invest myself in it.

More to come?