#ProLove

Ladies and gentlemen of the church persuasion we simply have to do better. I saw something today that broke my heart. I will not go into detail but our brothers and sisters should not have to beg, plead and prove themselves for basic necessities. 

We have charitable arms of our churches and faith-based organizations doing what they can to help the community but we only allow them to do so much. Many of us are more eager to send money halfway around the world than we are down the street. [I love mission work so don't get caught up]

We make judgements on those around us. We think because of their need they've sinned or are immoral. We tell them if they had more faith or if they gave more in the offering they would be blessed. The judgements and this twisted thinking become a harsh standard to which those in need must measure up. 

What is wrong with us?

I'm not attempting to bring judgement. I'm checking my own heart. We have to open our eyes to the greater issue.

We have forgotten to LOVE.

I don't know what love looks like to you but there are times real love looks like discomfort. Doing things you don't want to, going somewhere you never thought you would or helping someone you'd rather not. But that's not always the case.

Personally I have experienced some great moments when I got out of my comfort zone and acted "for the sake of love".

I can't just write this and not let the change start with me. 

I've been a class A jerk lately because I'm in a rough patch. The issue has taken a lot of mental real estate, specifically in the area of patience. In other words I've been short-tempered. 

I have no excuse. Life has rough patches and I have to take it as it comes and love all the way through it. And I will. For those I've been short with or hurt I apologize. Please forgive me for not living the life of love and honor that I said I would. I've been too focused on my own little world.

Christians we have the uncommon weapons of love, honor, unity and repentance. We should use them.

After all the One we follow said:

John 13:34-35 Amplified

We're supposed to look like Love. It starts with me. Are you in?

comfortable (now what?)

I did not share this scene from the script of my life just to stroll down memory lane. This is personal, somewhat embarrassing and a little uncomfortable. I share it because I know what it’s like when everything seems to be wrong. I know that vulnerable, weak place where so much seems lost. I hope this helps someone to know nothing is worth trading the comfort of the One and Only God. I didn’t pass that particular test, not at all. But I did learn about triggers, my personal points of weakness that can lead to bad decisions.

Four weeks ago I returned to the scene of all of this. It's years later and the characters are all different except the leading lady whose current situation could be seen as a place of weakness. I’m not perfect now either, but I have grown. I’ve learned there is an odd place of comfort in the midst of my greatest discomfort.  I am learning how to boast in my weaknesses, for in my weakness He is proven strong and He helps me to grow.

Right now I am moving forward and acceleration is happening in my life. Certain connections are being made and I’m acquiring new skills at an almost alarming rate to move toward my current goal. I’m launching my business for copy writing, editing and freelance journalism soon. I am also making new friends and strengthening old bonds.

Yes it’s a lot all at once and it requires a great amount of faith. After all, this is all happening on a college student’s budget. That is enough to cause a major meltdown and freak out session. But I am looking to the Comforter for help, strength, decisions and direction.

Fourteen years ago, I could have just told God, “I’m hurt and unhappy. I don’t know what to do. Please help me.” But I didn’t know how to do that. It really is that simple though to talk to Him. That’s what I hope anyone who has braved this historical document will take away.

God is Comfort in the midst of any darkness or uncertainty: loss of a relationship, loss of a job, death of a loved one, times of transition, financial instability, tough decisions for your business, family issues, etc. No matter what comes God is there not only with great love and comfort but also peace and direction.

As a young woman I was willing to compromise everything for a modicum of comfort in a moment of weakness. But now as a mature one I can confidently tell you I know Him Who is my Comfort and I rely on Him daily for every good thing.

image found at Living Healthy Together

comfortable (a compromise)

The room was dark. I only had the hazy glow of the building's exterior light to assist with sight, although I didn't need it as my eyes were pretty much closed. I leaned in closer and adjusted there on his lap.  Here it was a cold Saturday night and we were warming things up the old fashioned way. He held me steady with one hand and the other was let's say wandering while he kissed me deeply. We went on like that for a while before he said we should move to be more comfortable.

I had a brief moment to ask myself, "What in the world am I doing and how did I end up here?" but soon most of my rational thought exited the premises. Note: mostly not completely. The he was Alex, the only man to be that intimately close to me. We'd just turned 22, were not in love and were searching for comfort.

Before I move on to what didn't happen once we crossed that threshold, I would like to address how I allowed myself to get there. As I explained previously, Alex and I parted ways at 16. I saw him for a brief moment at 18 before he went to UT Austin and I went to UT Arlington. We were in different places physically, spiritually and emotionally. And I bet he was not thinking about me just as much as I was not thinking about him.

I always dreamed of going far away to school but remained in the Dallas area. I didn't have my own vehicle so I couldn’t just go home, or anywhere, whenever the urge struck. So here I was in Arlington, Texas, the transition town between Dallas and Fort Worth where so many major attractions stand. My first night there a group of us went to a movie and friendships began that would be incredible bonds even to this day.

The next day we met for church and to be honest, I don't remember much. But the midweek service three days later I have certain details of. It was at a local recreation center, the weather was Texas warm, there was so much joy in the air, and I met this guy who was part of the campus ministry who would become a close friend. OK, I think you may be able to see where this is going.

His name, Brandon (changed this time to protect the innocent, well mostly), and I guess technically this was our second meeting. He was a counselor at my freshman orientation that summer, although it was he who would remind me of that later. He was just shy of 6 feet tall, straight brown hair, brown eyes, a bit scrawny and a total geek. Now understand, it took me a while to notice everything but the geek part. He and I became fast friends.

I don't have time to develop the story of our budding romance but the CliffsNotes version goes a bit like this. Brandon and I went on a few dates and I always enjoyed the time I spent with him. He would often drive my roommate and me to church and other locations as needed and we talked -- the usual university student, campus ministry stuff.

One night as I was spending time with my friend, Lori (yep, name changed), she asked the question that changed everything, "How long have you liked Brandon?"

I think I managed the very intelligent "Huh?" as my answer. I was shocked, a bit lost, a lot confused and felt the sudden urge to exit a moving vehicle. Then I managed to laugh.

"I'm very serious," she said, responding to my unspoken question. "It's obvious the way you look at him when you two talk, and come on, how many times has he asked you out now and you say 'yes' every time?" I continued to deny but became more uncomfortable with each denial although I didn't understand why. "Deny all you want girl but you like him."

Six months later I admitted defeat. I don’t remember the exact circumstance but I was aware the idea of him with another girl didn’t work for me. And if you think six months is a long time, it took him more than a year after that to understand how he felt about me. We were both rather clueless. We met in the summer of 1995, and on the last day of 1997, Brandon finally asked me to be his girlfriend.

As the story goes we had something special in my humble opinion. Initially some were shocked at our pairing; we are two very different people. And thank God we already had a great friendship because we needed that foundation. I was young and stupid; I did and said crazy stuff and if I didn’t know better I would say I was a terrible girlfriend, but I do know better. We had a lot of fun together, learned about life, leadership, and I know I came to understand the importance of someone else’s dreams, (good) expectations and feelings. I was challenged by him to allow myself to be more feminine — he wanted others to see that side of me.

In the midst of all that, I think it's called growing up, something amazing happened – I fell in love. I loved him so much, I didn't understand it and I definitely wasn't expecting it. Before you call me names, understand I was only 21 and very career- and ministry-oriented. Falling in love that young with my first adult boyfriend after only nine months was nowhere in my day planner, scheduler or plan before graduation. I actually wanted to marry him and yes it was another friend who pulled that truth out of me.

I didn't know whether to be happy or cry. I was back in that odd place of shock, a bit lost and a lot confused. There were so many other things going on at that time too. School was very difficult, and for the first time in years I was dealing with temper issues that I was sure I had mastered. Some of my friends were afraid of me. I was moving from one small group to another at church, attempting to settle in somewhere, I was working and I began to perform poorly in school. I began to see a counselor and take medication; depression had set in.

Shortly after my confession of wanting to be Mrs. Brandon Norman I broke up with him. I was afraid to lose him because of all of the craziness that was going on in my life. I didn’t consciously end it as a preemptive strike, but somewhere inside I feared he would leave me like some of my other friends. I thought I wouldn’t be able to take it so in a moment of intense anger I ended it.

Unfortunately there were people around and it was ugly. I hated myself even more and questioned my sanity. The next few months were dark and troubling. I felt as though I was losing my mind and my friends. Not just anybody either, my brothers and sisters from church. This was scary; I was afraid of who I'd become and didn't understand what was going on inside me.

Within a few months some of my friends began to marry, and those who were already married began having babies. I wasn't jealous, I just had the desire to participate in the fun and games, too, but felt as though I destroyed my chance. I lost my closest friend, Brandon, and I was the third wheel with other friends. I was depressed, felt alone and I was terribly uncomfortable.

One week after my best friend's wedding (seven months post break-up) I was in the computer lab working on a paper for history of interior design or some such when I looked up just as Alex walked in. He smiled, that one that melted my teen-aged heart so many times and made his way over to a terminal near me. I politely smiled back and made small talk. After all, we were old friends.

This wasn't our first meeting. He transferred to UTA during our sophomore year, prior to Brandon and I dating. We saw each other near the Activities Building one day and that was about it. I went to a movie with him for his birthday, but other than that I stayed away from him. A friend suggested I not get close just to be on the safe side. She said it may seem cruel but I would later understand that it was for the best.

So as we sat there talking, my personal emergency warning system was going crazy. Every sign of trouble was blinking and telling me to keep it light and go back to my paper. I think I even made a slight attempt to do so. But it was late and I was tired and uncomfortable with my state in life, and he represented a memory of comfort.

Any time he stepped away I agreed to keep an eye on his things and any time I walked away I know what he was keeping his eye on. I don't know when exactly I learned the rules of seduction but here I was playing this game like a pro. At some point I gathered my things and headed home but a seed had already been planted in me. Again I think I tried to resist but it wasn’t a real fight.

I saw him again the next night at the lab. Nothing happened, we worked diligently and went our separate ways. The next Friday, even without communicating we were at the lab at the same time. When I turned and said goodnight he leaned in and kissed me. Just a quick one on the cheek and another soft one on the lips.

The sirens were wailing in my head and I heard the warnings: “Stop!” “What are you doing?” “He is not who you want!” “This is dangerous!” But I smiled and winked as I walked away letting him know I understood what he had not said.

Saturday night my roommates went off to work and I was back in the lab grateful they wouldn’t notice my absence. I had no intention of going home because I was searching for the comfort I was so desperate for.

I knew it wasn't real. I knew I didn't have any feelings for Alex and I knew what he wanted to feel, but I didn't care. What happened to my unwavering commitment to God? Where was my resolve to remain pure and faithful in the face of temptation? At that moment all the pain and shame I felt for my failings left me almost desensitized.

I was facing challenges in my life without trusting God. I was caught up in the lie that I was a failure and only able to hurt the ones I loved. I was grieving over my poor choices. On the stage of reality the script didn’t play out the way I'd always imagined and I was ready for a rewrite.

So that night I was in Alex's apartment where this story began. Believe it or not, we did not consummate the relationship that we didn’t have. I am not proud of what did happen that night or the days prior to it. But even in that place of compromised discomfort I couldn’t go through with it. As much as I physically desired to have him fully, I couldn’t overcome the spiritual and emotional implications. But at the end of the day I was definitely willing to compromise for the sake of my own comfort.

Afterword
This is the end of the history section. The final part will discuss what I learned and why I decided to share this. Thank you for your extra time this week.

love the foreign language: part 3, the explanation

I’ve had years of Spanish classes, had a basic introduction to Hebrew, have a program to learn Japanese and desire to learn Greek. But of all the languages available to learn Love makes me the most nervous.

Call me naïve, clueless, jaded or whatever else you can come up with but until recently I’ve had a bit of a block in this area. In a sense what the person said about me being like a kid who doesn’t understand the concept is true. I know Love, we’re close friends. I love my family and friends intensely but when it comes to romantic involvement, it may as well be Greek because I don’t understand that guy at all.

One of the beautiful things about learning another language is the humility it requires. We are so uncomfortable in foreign language classrooms because we are vulnerable, don’t know what we’re doing and are very aware that we don’t know. We hope we’re partnered with the correct person to practice this thing and grow to communicate as well as a native speaker.

Learning to speak another language requires submission and a willingness to be taught and to do so alongside someone else. In those early stages there is no way around looking or sounding silly because everything has to be learned and then learned again in context. We are always growing in what we learn, never quite arriving at some mythic plateau of linguistic mastery.

We have to trust our instructor to guide us along a good path and interact with our partner on the given terms for that language. We have to move beyond our discomfort, believe the instructor is not setting us up to fail and be willing to not only look out for our own interests but those of our partner as well. After all, it’s better if we can move forward together. This all takes a certain amount of faith in our instructor and our partner as well as a commitment to believe this team is there with us to benefit not harm us even when it’s difficult.

By now I’ve either confused your socks off or you can see the parallel and why I think of Love as a foreign language. Sure in the beginning it’s all happy fairies and pheromones but at some point you get to two exits past reality setting in and trust has to be developed and bonds created in order to move forward.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying I’m too proud to learn the language or unwilling to submit to the Instructor’s terms. It’s not that I don’t think I can learn it either as much as it is I have a wide-eyed, child-like, wonder about this whole process. I innocently consider whether or not there is a man brave enough to try to learn to speak Aisha and if I’ll be able to learn him. After all it’s not a matter of only one person learning in a relationship, both are learning the communication style of the other and over time possibly developing a new language that is a hybrid of both.

So to answer the question {five months later} yes of course I want to fall in love and get married. And to be honest it’s not that I don’t think about it but I’m in a place where I know it’s not that relationship that defines me or gives me value. I’m also not raising my right hand and singing that anthem of female independence. I choose to trust that at the right time my Teacher will make it clear who my partner is and will send him this way. Until then I’ll keep learning so that I hear and understand him when he finds and speaks to me.

love the foreign language: part 2, the conversation

This is the conversation that brought up this idea in the first place.
To help you visualize, note: I am highly expressive, I talk with my hands and I often answer a question with a question to ensure I understand and sometimes my answers involve a long story that can make you wonder how it all ties in. Enjoy!
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Person: Aisha do you ever think you'll fall in love?
 Me: Maybe.
 Person: Is that all? Maybe?
 Me: What?
 Person: That’s an odd answer. You seem so indifferent to it. You know it's not all bad and I think... {my hand in the air signaling Stop}
 Me: Before you finish your spiel, you forgot to ask a question. {puzzled look from person} You didn't ask if I've ever been in love.
 Person: Well have you?
 Me: What do you think?
 Person: You don't act like you ever have. You’re like a kid who doesn’t even get the concept.
 Me: Really?
 Person: Yes really. {stone face}
 Me: OK. {deep sigh} What if I told you that once a long time ago I fell in love with a wonderful gentleman whom I wanted to marry? {the look of hope} What if I told you that after that our relationship ended suddenly and painfully I realized love was not a game to be played? After I experienced the purity and tenderness of such a love I knew that kind of thing doesn't need to be shared with everyone on the block until I end up with the “right one” that fits. After all I am not a puzzle piece.
 Person: Interesting. So you were just hurt really bad and you don't want to experience that again? You know part of life is being hurt… {Stop signal}
 Me: Seriously I think you missed the point. Did it hurt? YES, obviously! Especially considering it was my fault. However, the thing I'm talking about is a peace that I have that at the proper time I will be "found".
 Person: Ok, whatever. Could you just answer the question?
 Me: Which one?
 Person: Seriously?! Do you think you will ever fall in love, again? No wait, even better, do you want to fall in love again?
 Me: Most likely.
 Person: {question marks of frustration in the eyes} Ugh! What kind of answer is that?
 Me: It's my kind of answer. Why does it bother you?
 Person: Because I want you to be happy and I want to help you be happy and I think you’re hiding… {yet another Stop sign}
 Me: Ok look, the way I see it love is like learning a foreign language. {person stumped, look of frustration}
 Person: Do you always have to be so—?
 Me: Yes {big smile} Would you like me to explain?
 Person: {Head on table} I’m too tired.
 Me: {Arms in the air in a "V"} I win!

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Yes, I know you're looking for my rationale on this foreign language/love thing and it's coming but for now, you know either laughed or felt sorry for the other participant in this conversation :)

love the foreign language: part 1, the foundation

There is something so mysterious and interesting about learning a foreign language. And keep in mind it’s only foreign to me because I don’t know it, but to the native speaker it’s perfectly natural, normal and possibly mundane. It is their form of communication.

Early in my life I was interested in learning another language. Many of my friend’s parents spoke Spanish. They listened to music and there was some Spanish-language TV but very little. I wanted to know what was going on so I could have fun and talk about it too.

I also watched a lot of PBS, which showed many BBC programs. I noticed that Europeans seemed to speak more than one language. When I saw how close all the countries were on the map, I realized why. So here I am from the US where we think everyone should speak English, but I want to communicate. So I decided to learn more languages.

Communication is a beautiful dance of ideas, sounds, tones and passions that help us convey everything from simple instructions to complex themes. I’ve only recently realized my obsession with communication and how to most effectively use it. But it was a recent conversation took me back to why the ability to communicate in more than one language so fascinates me.