A Beauty Glorious

Transitions and Adventures...

2011-12-20T22:31:00.000-08:00

Well. I haven't posted on here in a while. *looks around* *sees cobweb* *swats it off the wall* Ick. Sorry, guys... guess life overran this thing a little bit.

I don't expect to be posting on here in the future, either, as a matter of fact. God has a new adventure for me now. In summer 2012 I will be attending something called the One Thing Internship at the International House of Prayer in Kansas City, Missouri. This will be a focused six month period of my life to completely devote myself to prayer, learning, growing, ministry, but most of all long hours of one on one intimacy with Jesus. This has been the desire of my heart for several years now... if you've been reading ABG long you've been watching the seeds of this dream slowly growing. I am Mary of Bethany, and I want to pour out my life on Jesus' feet, just like I wrote about more than two years ago.

I've started a blog to chronicle my journey towards IHOP, and to share what God's teaching me. It will be similar to ABG at times, but also a lot more personal and hopefully deeper because I won't be aiming at one particular target audience. One thing I've discovered in the past few years of writing ABG is that my message has outgrown the original "teen girl" audience. That was something that I struggled with, wondering if what I was writing was in conflict with my original mission, and thus I think it's a good time to transition into a blog that is much more personal, and genuine, and open. Less Brio magazine, more confessions of one soul in love.

So I invite you to come check out www.fragrancearise.wordpress.com. I've also put up archives of my favorite ABG posts, so you can reread them there if you like. There's lots of information about what this internship is, how I'm planning to get there, the dreams God is putting on my heart... I hope you enjoy it. It may be my journey, but it can be yours too if you'd like to share it with me. I love my readers here dearly, and I want you all to come along for the ride.

Come and watch the miracle unfold.

He's Alive, Now I'm Alive!

2011-04-24T13:33:00.000-07:00

"Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead."

1 Peter 1:3 ESV

Today is the day we celebrate Jesus' victory over death and the glorious hope that has been given to us. Happy Easter!

Absolute Certainty

2011-04-16T18:18:00.000-07:00

As you may or not know, I’m pretty much in love with the Circle series by Ted Dekker. It has illuminated and completely changed so much of my life. The past few days, a few lines from White, book three, have been especially rolling around my head. It happened at a council meeting during a time of crisis among the Circle…

“Slow down,” Thomas said. “Please! This kind of division will destroy us. We must remember what we know as certain.”

He looked at Jeremiah again. “Remind us.”

“As certain?”

“Absolute certainty.”

I don’t know about you, but I usually tend to have a lot of questions about my life. What’s going to happen with…? Will I ever…? Why do I…? Does God really…? Most of the time it feels like there are way more things that I don’t know than things I do know.

Sometimes it’s good to go back and remember what I know for certain.

So I decided to try something in my journal. I drew a line down the middle of the page and made two lists, Things I Don’t Know and Things I Do Know. On the first list I got really gut-honest and poured out all my questions, frustrations, fears, and insecurities. I put things like:

What to do in August or with the rest of my life.
If/when I’m going to have a chance to truly be in love.
How I can love God so much and betray him so often.
What God created me for (more specifically than “loving him”).

and lots more.

I stared at that for a while. That’s a lot of uncertainty. I don’t like uncertainty. I like to know things.

So I began to write on the second list some of the Things I Do Know, things like:

God is good. All the time. And he LOVES me.
His plans are better than mine.
He is writing my love story.
His faithfulness is forever, and his mercy is new each day.
God does NOT hold my betrayals against me.
I really was created to love him.
He’s got me in the palm of his hand.
He Sees me.
He knows I love him even more than I know I love him.
He calls me [here I put all the precious and secret nicknames he has for me—tee-hee!]
My inheritance and my DESTINY are in Christ.
He is my portion.
Etc.

Lo and behold, I ran out of paper before I ran out of truth.

Underneath all that I wrote in huge letters:

THIS LIST > THAT LIST.

What more do I need to know?

“For I know that my Redeemer lives,

and at the last he will stand upon the earth.”

Job 19:25

Obsession and Meditation

2011-04-07T18:26:00.000-07:00

You know how when you’re obsessed with something your mind’s “default position” is to be thinking about that thing? And how you can make inside jokes and random references and tie it into almost anything? Depending on what I’ve been watching or reading a lot of lately, I do that sometimes with Star Trek, or Doctor Who, or Ted Dekker books, or even Twilight. It’s pretty normal these days for me to pop out with a Doctor Who quote in daily conversation—complete with British accent—and if I’m spacing out, staring at the wall, there’s a good chance I’m daydreaming about flying off with the Doctor in that impossible blue box. Yep, I am certifiably obsessed.

What would it be like to have that same kind of obsession with something far more epic and timeless and amazing than any of those fantasy worlds? What would it be like to be obsessed with the Living and Active Word of God?

Sound crazy? Sound impossible? Oh, it’s possible, but to get there, we’re going to have to break through a few old habits.

King David was a man unashamedly infatuated, preoccupied, and otherwise obsessed with God’s Word. He wrote Psalm 119, the longest chapter in the Bible, and spends some 176 verses enthusing over the Law of the Lord. Over and over, David makes passionate exclamations like, “Oh how I love your law! It is my meditation all the day.” (verse 97) (And to think, David only had a few books of Scripture! I bet his mind would have absolutely exploded if he could have seen the 66-book amazingness we call a Bible today.)

We’ve been doing something this year called The Journey 2011—a challenge to read all 66 books of the Bible in a year. It’s been really amazing so far. This kind of disciplined Bible reading is somewhat new to me; it’s only been since October of last year that I’ve been finding any sort of daily rhythm. During that time, God’s been teaching me something that’s completely challenged the way I’ve been living for most of my Christian life:

If I want to be obsessed with God, I need to be obsessed with his Word.

There are no shortcuts; to know God, I gotta dig down deep into the number one place he has revealed himself. I have to read the Bible not just to read it and be done, but to actually meet God.

How to do this? It all boils down to that word David used: meditation.

No, I don’t mean you should read the Bible while sitting in the lotus position and intoning a steady “ommmmmmm.” That kind of “meditation” is all about emptying your mind. What God wants is for you to fill your mind with his Word.

For me, this is what it looks like: when I sit down to read my Bible, I begin by praying something that I picked up from David in Psalm 119: “Open my eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out of your law.” (verse 18) This verse has become the foundation of how I approach the Bible. Without the Holy Spirit opening my eyes and teaching me himself as I read, it’s going to just seem like so many words. I need to stay in communication with him as I read so that I can really understand what he’s trying to tell me.

I mean, ultimately, the Holy Spirit wrote the Bible, right? He knows it inside and out, he knows what he meant when he inspired the writers, and he knows how it applies to me today. Because of the Holy Spirit, the Bible isn’t a dead piece of literature—it is “living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword”! (Hebrews 4:12) As a friend of God, I have the enormous privilege of getting to read the Bible with the Holy Spirit at my side, whispering in my ear. I can ask him, “What did you mean when you wrote this? What does this say about who you are or who I am? How can this be true if that is also true?” and he can actually tell me. How ridiculously cool is that?!

I always read with a journal and pencil handy, as well as a red pen and handful of highlighters. This is just me, but I like to underline things that are theologically interesting, and highlight things that really inspire or speak to me. And I do a lot of journaling too, for making note of my favorite verses and what’s interesting about them, and also for just journaling about how they speak to my life and my relationship with God.

Sometimes I get only halfway through my daily reading because a verse or phrase leaps out and demands that I stop and focus on it for a while. I call this getting gloriously STUCK, and it happens in the most random places. I got stuck on this verse just the other day: “The beloved of the LORD dwells in safety. The High God surrounds him all day long, and dwells between his shoulders.” (Deuteronomy 33:12)

Hmmmm… isn’t that a good verse to just stop and sit with awhile? The beloved of the LORD… I am the beloved of the LORD… The God of the universe has a beloved, and it is me… he makes me dwell, live, rest in safety… The High God surrounds me, like a warm mist, or a blanket, or a shield…what does that look like? what does that feel like?...God, I want to know that you surround me, that I am your beloved…

And that’s all meditating is. It’s taking a verse or phrase or idea and rolling it around in your mind, really soaking it in. Sometimes I’ll draw it, sometimes I’ll paraphrase it, sometimes if I’m alone I’ll sing it, sometimes I’ll just think and journal and pray through it. The more I do this, the more different words will strike me, or I will suddenly make a connection to something else I’ve read. And I always come away feeling that I know God a little bit more.

I believe the point of reading the Bible is to encounter God. It’s not to learn doctrine, it’s not to study history, it’s certainly not to fulfill a duty. It’s to encounter the living Spirit who inspired it, and although he just might teach you something about doctrine or history, ultimately, he’s going to lead you to himself. He longs for you to know his heart. The Bible is a guaranteed gateway into the genuine heart of God.

And I want to know God. I want to touch his heart.

I want to be obsessed with this thing that God calls his very Word.

I hope you do, too.

“For it is no empty word to you, but your very life…”

Deuteronomy 32:47

ABG guest blogs on GrowUp318!

2011-03-31T19:12:00.000-07:00

Hello again! I do have a blog post in my compy all ready to go, however I do believe I shall save that for next week because THIS week A Beauty Glorious is being featured as a guest blogger on GrowUp318.com! GrowUp318 is written by the lovely Heather who as you may remember won our Secret Keeper giveaway a few weeks ago. She was taking a leave of absence to recover from surgery (she's doing great now) and was featuring some guest bloggers in the meantime... My post "The Mystery of Modesty" was featured yesterday. Go check it out--and while you're at it, browse the rest of Heather's blog! :)

In the meantime on this end of things, I shall leave you with the title of next week's blog... "Obsession and Meditation." Check back here next Wednesday to read it!

(By the way... this is the first time I have officially referred to A Beauty Glorious as ABG. I do so in my journal and amongst friends all the time. Feel free to join the trend. ;) )

The Journey 2011 - Remember

2011-03-16T19:49:00.000-07:00

Hello again, all! I’m so sorry I haven’t posted in a while. In the meantime, I got a job, did a lot of sewing, and worked on catching up with The Journey 2011. I am proud to report that I am now once again on target, reading every night, and finding awesome stuff!

Since I haven’t blogged on The Journey in a while, let’s back up a bit to Exodus and look at some of what’s going on there. Quick summary, Bible in a minute style: Slavery in Egypt, “Let my people go!”, plagues, Passover, Red Sea, yay God… “Why didn’t you just let us die in Egypt?”

Wait, what?!

Seriously, that’s what they said. As I was reading through Exodus, I kept getting so frustrated and wanted to just pop back in time and Gibbs slap the entire nation of Israel. (If you don’t know what a Gibbs slap is, watch this.) Check out the timeline:

· God rescues his people from Egypt in an especially miraculous and dramatic fashion, terrifying the Egyptians to the point that they actually kick the Israelites out. Along the way, he institutes the Passover celebration so that the Israelites can remember this event every year. (Exodus 11-12)

· Pharaoh comes storming out with his army, trapping Israel with their backs up against the Red Sea, and they start to panic. “Is it because there are no graves in Egypt that you have taken us away to die in the wilderness? What have you done to us in bringing us out of Egypt?” (Exodus 14:11)

· Red Sea, poof! And they walk through on dry ground. Faith returns. “Israel saw the great power that the LORD used against the Egyptians, so the people feared the LORD, and they believed in the LORD and in his servant Moses.” (Exodus 14:31)

· Israel complains for water; God gives them water. (Exodus 15:22-27)

· Israel complains for bread and wishes for the “good old days” of plenty in Egypt (come on, guys, you were slaves!); God gives them manna from heaven. (Exodus 16)

· Israel complains for water and whines that God is trying to kill them (notice the escalating whininess?); God gives them water. (Exodus 17:1-7)

· Israel sees the glory of the Lord on the mountain, with smoke and thunder and lightening. (Exodus 19:16-20)

· Moses disappears for a while to talk to God; in the meantime the people decide that they need a god they can see—they seem to have forgotten the light show of just a few chapters ago—so Aaron makes them a golden calf to worship. “These are your gods, O Israel, who brought you up out of the land of Egypt!” (Exodus 32:4)

Brilliant. Just brilliant, guys. *Gibbs slap.*

And this is basically the pattern for the rest of the Old Testament, escalating to the point that Israel gets themselves exiled for their false-god-chasing ways. It’s like they’ve got some kind of spiritual amnesia.

I’m so glad I’m never like that.

*Gibbs slap*

Okay, okay, thank you, Boss.

You know, I said this was an old Testament pattern, but maybe it’s more of a human pattern. How often do we suffer from spiritual amnesia?

How often do I encounter God and then the next day act like it never happened?

How often does God come through for me in a big way—providing something just when I need it, reassuring me of his love just when I’m having doubts, proving in a million little and big ways that he hears my prayers—and the next time I’m in that situation, I don’t trust God to come through again?

How often do I experience God’s extravagant love for me and extravagantly swear my love in return, and then promptly go and flirt with other little gods—TV, Facebook, my own ego, anything I put more priority on than living out my love for him?

How often do I just plain forget to invite him into my day, and let him get crowded out with busyness—or even just busy laziness?

Spiritual amnesia. Somehow I just don’t remember.

But God remembers.

Jeremiah 2:2, 32 “I remember the devotion of your youth, your love as a bride, how you followed me into the wilderness… Can a virgin forget her ornaments, or a bride her attire? Yet my people have forgotten me days without number.” Can you hear the sorrow in this last statement? God is comparing us forgetting him to a bride showing up at her wedding without her wedding dress. It breaks his heart. He longs for the days when we were truly believing and devoted.

He is jealous to be our center once again.

And he never gives up. He keeps on pursuing, keeps on offering himself to us. Look at the story of Israel. God never gave up on them—yes, he punished them when they got too far off track, but he always brought them back. He was patient, and he still used them to bless the whole world in spite of themselves.

Thank God he does the same with me.

And Our Second Giveaway Winner Is...

2011-02-22T13:33:00.000-08:00

Hey guys! Sorry this was a bit delayed. My weekend got crazy before I realized what was happening. :/ Anyway, the winner is (drum roll please...)

GrowUp318.com!

This is the lovely Heather who blogs at www.growup318.com. Y'all should check it out, and see if it encourages and challenges you as much as it has me! (I'll actually be guest blogging there next month!) Heather, you'll be hearing from me via email so I can send you your copy of Dannah Gresh's amazing book Secret Keeper: The Delicate Power of Modesty.

To everyone else, thank you so much for your wonderful comments! I always love reading about your lives and the ways you are striving to chase after God's heart.

Grace and peace!

Love Letter

2011-02-14T10:58:00.000-08:00

My beloved one,

I see you, in the secret places of your heart, and I know you better than you know yourself. I carefully crafted you just the way I want you. You are my artwork, my grand masterpiece. And I say you are perfect. I fell in love with you the moment I first thought of you, long before time existed. From eternity past, I have never not thought of you, and I have never not loved you.

You make me sing and shout with joy! Just one glance from you in my direction and I am overwhelmed. You ravish me; you have captivated my heart. You are a rose, and a lily among thorns. I see you and there is no flaw in you. I love you, my beautiful one, with all my heart, soul, mind, and strength, and I promise I forever will.

You are my beautiful and beloved bride! I can’t wait for the day I can finally sweep you away into the place I’m preparing for us to spend eternity—together.

Until then, please don’t despair. Never doubt my love. I have loved you with an everlasting love. Even when you don’t see it, my love is always there, drawing you closer to my heart. Nothing in this world or the next, not the height of Everest nor the cold depth of the Atlantic, could ever separate you from it. My love is stronger than death itself, and nothing you could offer would ever be enough to buy it. It is given freely. My heart burns for you, and many waters could never quench its fire.

I love you fiercely, and I am desperate to win your heart. You are the apple of my eye and the delight of my soul. You’re worth my blood, every last drop. Never forget how much you mean to me.

Your King and Eternal Lover,

Jesus

PS- Happy Valentine's Day.

Psalm 139:1-24, Ephesians 2:10, Zephaniah 3:17, Song of Songs 4:9, Song of Songs 6:5, Song of Songs 2:1-2, Song of Songs 4:7, Mark 12:30, Isaiah 62:5, John 14:3, Jeremiah 31:3, Romans 8:38-39, Song of Songs 8:6-7, Zechariah 2:8

A Secret to Keep - Part 2

2011-02-13T18:49:00.000-08:00

I wrote in my last blog about the purpose and power of modesty. It’s all about maintaining the mystery and protecting your secrets. Unfortunately, in our culture, it’s all too common for girls to flaunt their secrets as loudly as if they had a bullhorn. You know exactly what I mean. V-necks framing cleavage galore, tight t-shirts that show off every curve and bra line, miniskirts with just enough fabric to cover your undies, cutsey cropped shorts that show a mile of leg, and that’s just for starters.

So, practically speaking, how can we guard our secrets? It’s hard to pin down an precise line of “how much is too much,” but there are some rules of thumb we can use to help us figure this thing out.

One question I sometimes ask myself is, “Would I want a guy putting his hand on the skin that’s showing?” (Awkward image? I hope so!) Obviously, if a guy’s being creepy about touching any part of my body, that’s not cool, but some areas are clearly deep into the danger zone. When I’m trying on shorts and I notice that practically my entire thigh is showing, I imagine a guy laying his hand on my skin up there—and off those shorts go into the “I don’t think so” pile.

Another question to ask might be, “What is this outfit drawing attention to?” Do I really want my shirt so low that my breasts draw more attention than my face? Hmm, what about words printed across my rear like a billboard? (Yeah, he’s a jerk if he stares, but come on, you were the one who put up the neon signs.)

Wanna get even more specific? Try a few tests with a mirror in front of you to see if your clothes make the cut.

The, Um, Chestal Area

This is one of the easiest areas to lose control of, because today’s fashion is pretty much all about flaunting it—and frankly, you know you want to! (Hey, just being honest here!) So take a deep breath, remind yourself that your secrets are worth protecting, and shield those babies from prying eyes!

Bend over and, in the mirror, check out what’s going on down there. Can you see deep into the “valley,” or even all the way down to the middle of your bra? Not good. (For some body types, you won’t even need to do this. You’ll know right away how much cleavage you’re showing!) Solve this problem with some layering. Try a cami or a tank, but if those are still too low, either tweak the straps to bring the neckline up or go for a t-shirt to layer underneath instead. One beautifully modest girl I know likes to layer two tank tops, one backwards and one forwards, to take care of this problem in a super cute way! Another trick: buy a package of men’s tank tops, which have slightly higher necklines than girls’ tanks.

Here’s another test to try. With your fingers together and palm flat against your chest, hook your thumb into that little hollow place right at the base of your neck. Is there still skin showing below your hand? Can you see the curve of your breasts? Better double think what this shirt is drawing attention to. (Once again, layers are your friend.)

The tightness thing can be the hardest to figure out. Here, the goal is not to look spray painted. Leave some shape to the imagination. There is power in mystery!

The Gap of Death

This is my personal demon with jeans: that evil gap in the back between the pants and your skin that happens when your pants don’t fit quite right. Immodest and just plain uncomfortable! Invest in a simple belt to cinch that in. All fixed!

Even with a belt, though, this gap can spell death in more ways than one when you bend over or sit down. Try it, then reach back to feel what everyone else is seeing. Do you feel skin or underwear or worst of all (cringe) The Crack? Layers to the rescue! Wear a long cami or tank underneath your shirt to take care of this. You can either tuck it in or pull it down over the top of your pants, depending on how cute your belt is. ;)

LEG!!

There’s no getting around it: some skirts and shorts are just TOO short! Try this: Put on those shorts and sit cross legged in front of a mirror. Can you see too far up your inner thigh? (You’ll know how far is too far when you imagine your dear ol’ grandpa sitting in front of you!) Luckily these days Bermuda shorts are in ready supply, so you never have to worry about short shorts being your only option!

Skirts: You could try the cross-legged test again, but you and I both know how that’s going to turn out. So try this instead: Bend over like you’re trying to touch your toes, then feel how much of the backs of your legs is showing. Too high?

In general, miniskirts are out. Look for skirts that are closer to your knee than to your crotch. Anything less is too short!

What about wearing tights or leggings under your skirts? Leggings can be awesome, but remember that pretty much all they do is color your skin. Every curve is still fully on display. There’s a point where too short is just plain too short. I suggest using leggings as a safety net for those borderline skirts that you’re not sure about.

Here’s a cool idea, though: Wear your short skirts over jeans! It’s common enough not to be weird, but it’s unusual enough to be fun and unique and a little bit boho! This isn’t going to save your tight denim miniskirts (but feel free to prove me wrong!) but come on—you’ve got so many other stylish choices up your sleeve, who needs ‘em?

Strappy Days

No one should know what your underwear looks like, and that includes your bra straps. Plus, exposed bra straps are just tacky. Keep those tucked away; you can buy little hooks to attach to the underside of your shirt to help. Take advantage of those removable straps that you can cross and attach in several different ways to keep them out of sight. (The picture at right is a good example of this--although that particular tank is a tad tight to wear on its own.) If you shirt just has really weird armholes and all else fails, go strapless.

What about spaghetti straps, like on a cami? I say avoid them. It’s not a good idea to wear a cami by itself. Not only do you often have cleavage issues, but it leaves your upper back and shoulders bare and is really no better than a tube top. That’s just way too much skin. Remember, the more skin you how, the more it just invites guys to complete the picture in their minds. Go for a tank or tee underneath. Play up that color contrast!

If you’re feeling iffy about any outfit, ask your dad or an older brother. They can help you understand what a guy sees so you don’t go causing guys to stumble if you can avoid it.

My goal isn’t really to give you rules to follow and a dress code to obey. I only hope you realize the importance of guarding your secrets, saving every glimpse for the one man who deserves them. With that in mind, use your best judgment. There is power in mystery. You will feel more confident when you choose not to give your secrets away, and that confidence will only heighten your beauty. When you choose to hide the full beauty of your body, the glorious beauty of your heart can be revealed.

PS- If you're interested in more specifics on what's modest and what isn't, check out the Modesty Survey, where a bunch of Christian guys answered very detailed questions on what they consider immodest. You probably won't agree with all the results - I didn't - but it's a very interesting read nonetheless.

GIVEAWAY: Congratulations to A Hopeful Romantic for winning last week’s copy of Secret Keeper: The Delicate Power of Modesty by Dannah Gresh!

BUT WAIT, THERE’S MORE!! Luckily for the rest of you, I’m actually giving away another copy of Secret Keeper today! Just leave a comment below sharing one of your favorite modesty tips and tricks (How do you decide what's modest? What do you do when an outfit gets iffy?) along with your email address, to be entered. One week from today I’ll announce the winner!

If you don't want to post your email on the internet, that's totally okay; you can still enter! Go ahead and post your comment here, then also email me (abeautyglorious@gmail.com) a copy of the comment, just so I know which address goes with which comment. :)

ALSO, to get more entries into the drawing, tell your friends to enter! Have them leave a comment sharing their trick with your name, like this: "When a shirt is too short, I like to blah blah blah... and YOUR NAME sent me here." Each friend you send to the blog will earn YOU an extra entry into the giveaway!

And The Giveaway Winner Is...

2011-02-13T17:11:00.000-08:00

...selected by random drawing (by my mom, just to be totally fair):

A Hopeful Romantic!

Congrats, girl! You'll be hearing from me via email so I can send you your brand spankin' new copy of Dannah Gresh's amazing book Secret Keeper: The Delicate Power of Modesty. Everyone else, you should totally check out our winner's amazing blog, http://becomingahopefulromantic.blogspot.com. It has encouraged and inspired me many times.

To everyone else, thank you so much for your lovely comments! I much enjoyed reading all about your stylishly modest outfits. But don't go away, because I have another giveaway up my sleeve... it'll be announced at the end of Part 2!

A Secret to Keep - Part 1

2011-02-06T20:51:00.000-08:00

(WARNING: Girl talk ahead!)

So here we are, two years past A Beauty Glorious’ launch. We’ve talked about a lot of different things, from beauty to art to dreams, but there’s one topic I’ve kind of avoided up to this point. Truth is, I’ve been a little scared of it.

It’s a big topic. Some people basically ignore it, and some people get hardcore legalistic about it and start making up crazy rules. Everyone has some sort of experience with it, and thus everyone has an opinion. Whoa! How’s a girl to know how to blog about such a thing? Where do I start?

The topic I’m talking about is modesty.

As soon as I say that word, a ton of reactions probably come to mind. (Something like this picture, maybe?) Do any of these sound familiar?

“It’s just fashion! If guys take it the wrong way, that’s their problem.”

“Come on, my shorts aren’t that short!”

“Times change. People are used to seeing a little more skin than in the old days, so it doesn’t really matter.”

I admit, I’m guilty of throwing out these responses from time to time. I definitely did when I was in high school and craving a little extra attention, from fashion-conscious girls and from skin-conscious guys. But the more I delve into discovering the real purpose and power of modesty, the more I start making different choices about what I wear. And surprisingly enough, I feel way more beautiful and confident that way.

The truth is, modest really is hottest. And I will explain why.

The purpose of modesty is saving the full secrets of your beauty for the man you marry. Think about it. Who would you rather be: the hot chick that every man drools for, like a T-bone steak on display, or the hidden treasure who saves the full secret of her glorious beauty for the one man who is madly in love with her and dares to pursue her?

Think of the movie National Treasure. At one point after yet another mysterious clue, Riley complains, “Why can’t they just say, ‘Go to this place, here’s the treasure, spend it wisely’?” But how valuable would that treasure be if we found it in the first ten minutes of the movie? How breathtaking would the big reveal be if we saw peeks of it throughout the movie? A true treasure must be sought and earned--or else it loses its value.

The power of modesty is in maintaining the mystery. Believe it or not, this makes guys way more interested than if you give them everything right away. Modesty isn’t about pretending you’re not sexy or beautiful. In fact, it’s just the opposite. This is an attitude that says, “I am gloriously beautiful, but I’m not the sample table at Costco. My body and my heart are a package deal, and unless you’ve won my heart and sealed it with a covenant before God, you have no right to expect freebies.” And those freebies can be visual as well as tactile.

When you show too much, what you’re doing is inviting guys to complete the picture. The mind does this automatically. The more skin you show, the easier it is for a guy to automatically imagine what the rest of your skin looks like. And suddenly your “just fashion” takes guys somewhere in their minds that it can be really hard to ignore.

There is an aspect of truth in saying that guys need to be careful how they respond to what you wear, but you have a role to play too. Most Christian guys know they have a battle to fight and really don’t want to stare, but they are male and it’s a whole lot harder than most girls realize. We can help them by quite simply being careful and not unconsciously (or consciously!) inviting them to stare. What seems okay to you might come off entirely differently to them. The Bible calls this not causing each other to stumble. (1 Corinthians 10:32) (Do you see the irony in telling guys “Hands off! Respect me!” while at the same time your outfit is flashing neon signs?)

For a lot of girls, the reason they flaunt their bodies is insecurity, even fear. They crave that attention. Maybe they have gotten used to the attention and are afraid if they covered up a bit more, they would lose all that. Maybe they don’t value themselves enough as people to believe they can be loved for who they are, rather than for what they show.

But you know what? It’s not true. You have so much more to offer to this world than your curves. You have your beautiful smile and the light in your eyes. You have your unique and beautiful personality. You have so much love to share that has nothing to do with what you wear. You are a wonderful person, and the world is better because you are in it.

Embrace this truth. You are gloriously beautiful, and you don’t need to show off to prove it. Challenge the man who's right for you to honorably pursue you by not giving away your secrets ahead of time!

Now that's hot.

In Part II, we’ll look at some practical ways you can protect your secrets and renovate your wardrobe into reflecting the beautifully modest woman of God you are called to be!

GIVEAWAY: Wanna read more about the power of modesty and the beauty you were born with? I have a copy of Secret Keeper: The Delicate Power of Modesty by Dannah Gresh I’m going to give away! This is the book that completely redefined my view of modesty and inspired this blog post. Trust me, it will rock your world. Leave a comment below describing your favorite modest outfit, along with your email address, to be entered to win! One week from today (that will be Sunday, February 13) I’ll post Part II and announce the winner!

If you don't want to post your email on the internet, that's totally okay; you can still enter! Go ahead and post your comment here, then also email me (abeautyglorious@gmail.com) a copy of the comment, just so I know which address goes with which comment. :)

ALSO, to get more entries into the drawing, tell your friends to enter! Have them leave a comment describing their outfit with your name, like this: "My favorite modest outfit is blah blah blah... and YOUR NAME sent me here." Each friend you send to the blog will earn YOU an extra entry into the giveaway!

The Journey 2011 - Dysfunctional Chosen Ones

2011-02-04T19:04:00.000-08:00

Hi, guys! Sorry I haven't posted in a while... How are you guys doing on The Journey 2011? Confession: I’ve been a tad behind, so I just pushed into Exodus yesterday. I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about Genesis, though, and I’ve been struck by how dysfunctional these early chosen ones were! Let’s recap, shall we:

Abraham, the father of the Jewish people:
• told people that his hot wife Sarah was his sister so that no one would kill him to get to her. (Genesis 12:11-13)
• doubted God and so got his wife’s servant pregnant. (Genesis 16:1-4)
• played favorites with his kids (although that was kind of God's idea)

Abraham’s son Isaac:
• told people that his hot wife Rebekah was his sister so that no one would kill him to get to her. (Genesis 26:7)
• played favorites with his kids. (Genesis 25:28)

Isaac’s son Jacob:
• manipulated his twin brother Esau out of his inheritance. (Genesis 25:29-34)
• manipulated Isaac into giving him Esau’s blessing, because his mom told him to. (Genesis 27:1-29)
• fell in love with Rachel, and then was tricked into marrying her older sister Leah. (Genesis 29:9-25)
• went ahead and married Rachel too a few years later, and loved her more than Leah. (Genesis 19:26-30)
• manipulated his father-in-law out of the best sheep in the herd. (Genesis 30:25-43)
• ended up having kids by Leah, Rachel, AND both their servants! (Genesis 29:31-30:24)
• played favorites with his kids. (Genesis 37:3)

Of Jacob’s twelve sons:
• Reuben, the oldest, slept with one of his dad’s concubines and thus lost his inheritance. (Genesis 35:22, Genesis 49:3-4)
• Levi and Simeon tricked and then slaughtered all the men of the city because one guy raped their sister. (Genesis 34:1-31)
• The oldest ten sold their brother Joseph into slavery out of jealousy and then told their dad he died in a tragic accident. (Genesis 27:12-28)
• Judah broke a promise to his daughter-in-law and then was tricked into sleeping with her. (Genesis 38:1-26)
• Judah was also the one who suggested the slavery scheme in the first place. (Genesis 37:26-27)

This is one crazy family! And I didn’t even mention all the trouble that Jacob’s brother Esau got into, or all the drama between Rachel and Leah!

And yet this is the family that God chose to base his entire redemptive plan on.

• Abraham was the father of a great nation and was called the friend of God. (Genesis 15:5-7, James 2:23)
• Isaac also received this promise and became the father of a great nation. (Genesis 26:2-5)
• Jacob also received this promise, became the father of a great nation, and had his name changed to Israel. (Genesis 35:9-15)
• Jacob’s twelve sons became the twelve tribes of the nation of Israel.
• Joseph’s being sold into slavery became part of God’s plan to save all of Egypt, plus Joseph’s family, from starvation. (Genesis 45:4-8)
• Levi and Simeon were punished for their vengeful rampage by being scattered throughout the land, but God still chose the tribe of Levi for the honor of priesthood. (Genesis 49:5-7, Deuteronomy 10:8)
• Judah (the guy with the daughter-in-law issues) became the mightiest of all the tribes and in fact was the ancestor of Jesus. (Have you heard Jesus called the Lion of the Tribe of Judah?) (Genesis 49:8-12, Luke 3:33, Revelation 5:5)

It blows my mind that God would use such a messed up family to accomplish his plans. These three, plus Jacob’s twelve sons, became the foundation of God’s chosen people. God proved that he could use even the messiest circumstances to tell the most miraculous story of all time.

If God can have such a huge destiny for such people, in spite of their dysfunctional behavior…might he also have a huge destiny for me?

Cheat sheet - Abraham's family tree

The Journey 2011 - Though He Slay Me

2011-01-10T12:21:00.000-08:00

Hello, friends! Welcome to Day 10 of The Journey 2011! How’s it going for everyone?

Every now and then I’m going to pop in with these special blogs just to talk about some of the awesome things that I’m finding in my reading. I’m twittering a lot more often about fave verses, too, so follow me at http://www.twitter.com/abeautyglorious!

In the chronological Bible reading plan (which you can find here: http://www.ewordtoday.com/year/esv/cjan01.htm), we’re reading through the book of Job right now. I don’t think I’ve read Job since high school, and even then I don’t remember paying much attention. It’s not an especially fun book, because of the enormity of Job’s suffering, and also because it can be difficult to understand when the friends are actually speaking truth vs. when they’re just playing blame games, and also when Job’s actually speaking truth vs. when he’s just blowing off hot air. But in between all that, there’s some mind-blowing stuff that really challenges the way we respond to tragedy.

In the first two chapters, Job loses everything he values: his wealth, his children, and even his health. He still has his wife, but she’s no help. (“Curse God and die!” Job 2:9. Gee, thanks for your support…) And yet what’s his first reaction?

“Then Job arose and tore his robe and shaved his head and fell on the ground and worshipped. And he said, “Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return. The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away;

blessed be the name of the Lord.”

–Job 1:20-21

Wow.

I notice that he’s not pretending it’s no big deal. The guy is deep in mourning. But somehow, he still keeps his eyes on God. He still recognizes that God deserves his worship, no matter what.

We sing a lot of songs about this. We sing “Blessed Be Your Name” in the “land that is plentiful” and when we’re “found in the desert place.” We sing “Desert Song,” in which my favorite lines are “All of my life, in every season/You are still God/And I have a reason to sing/I have a reason to worship.” But really, when tragedy strikes, how quick are we to take up that banner of praise? Do we really act like we believe that NO MATTER WHAT, God is still God and that in and of itself is reason to worship?

How resilient is our trust?

Just over a year ago, my aunt died very suddenly. It hit our whole family hard, and I by no means got the heaviest of the pain. But still, I found that I had a choice to make. I could either close off, pull back, and try to protect my heart from a God I didn’t understand, or I could press in and choose to love him regardless.

I didn’t write in my journal for several days after it happened. I didn’t know what to say or how to deal. When I finally did open up my journal, this is how it came out:

“I hate having to write this. What do you say when the biggest prayer you ever prayed was denied? When a wife, mother, sister, daughter, aunt breathes her last and enters the glory realms, leaving behind a broken family… I don’t understand. I don’t know what good this will serve. But I do know that she has no regrets. Her soul is satisfied… God, I am still here. The heart of the ocean can’t pull me from you.”

I chose love. And I am proud to say that so did my family.

When things like this happen in our lives, that’s the choice we have to make: worship or bitterness. It’s okay to mourn; it’s even okay to be angry, but if there’s not some worship in there too, you’re putting yourself in a bad place.

After all, when life collapses for you like it did for Job, who do you have left but God?

The verse I wrote in my journal that day was this:

“Because of this, many of Jesus’ followers turned back and would not go with him any more. So he asked the twelve disciples, ‘And you—would you also like to leave?’ Simon Peter answered, ‘Lord, to whom would we go? You have the words that give eternal life.”

--John 6:66-68

Peter chose love. He recognized that sticking with Jesus, even when nothing made sense, was the only thing that did make sense. He had crossed the point of no return; he was so consumed with love that Jesus was his only option. He couldn’t even imagine leaving. David expressed something very similar when he said, “Whom have I in heaven but you?” (Psalm 73:25)

Job chose love. He made the most incredible statement in Job 13:15:

“Though he slay me, I will hope in him.”

This is a verse I absolutely need to memorize. I find it incredible because even though Job didn’t understand and felt absolutely crushed by God, he still chose to place his trust in a God he knew was essentially good.

Good? After all that destruction and despair?

Yes. God is good no matter what, because it’s his very nature. It’s who he is.

Job couldn’t see the bigger plan. He didn’t know that God was going to restore his joy and then some; he didn’t know that Satan was betting against his faithfulness and all of heaven was watching him; he didn’t know that his story would end up in the Bible to encourage people for thousands of years.

But he knew that God was good. Period.

The last line of that journal entry, “The heart of the ocean can’t pull me from you,” is actually a line from a song called Rock of Salvation. (You probably aren’t familiar with it; a guy from my school wrote it and we’ve been singing it in chapel for several years. I’m including a music player below for you to listen to it.) For me, that line is my vow to God that despite the strongest force of opposition, whatever that “heart of the ocean” may be, I will not be moved. Like Peter and Job and David, I have passed the point of no return, and God is my only option.

I choose love.

Rock of Salvation by Paul Stephens

Do you have a favorite verse from your reading? Post it in a comment to share with us!

Delight

2011-01-08T08:41:00.000-08:00

I have a confession: sometimes I think I have a pretty good understanding of God’s heart for me. He loves me unconditionally, he calls me his beloved and his favorite one, he wants to use me to change the world, I get all that. Or at least I think I do. Every now and then, though, God reveals a whole new dimension of love to me, and I can’t help but be overwhelmed all over again.

There was a time a few months ago at a youth leadership meeting when the pastor asked us to take a few quiet minutes to imagine in our own minds what God thinks of us. What came into my mind was, “God is delighted in me, but he is eager for me to grow.”

The pastor then asked us to actually ask God what he thinks of us. I didn’t think God’s answer would be much different from mine, but he surprised me. What I believe God told me was, “I am delighted in you, and so I am eager for you to grow.”

I was floored. There’s a huge difference, isn’t there? I had been feeling like God was saying, “I love you, and the way you’re living now is a good start, but not quite what I had in mind. You’re still not quite measuring up.”

But that is so NOT the truth! What God really says to me is more like, “I LOVE YOU! I’m so proud of you, you’re doing great! Keep it up, I can’t wait to take you further!”

I mess up, I do stupid things, and I don’t do what I know I should be doing, but he still smiles when he looks at me. He is still so excited and proud when I keep trying!

I don’t understand this. My tendency is always to imagine that God is up in heaven somewhere shaking his head and saying, “Oh, Caitlyn, Caitlyn, Caitlyn. You sure blew that one,” and then I have to go him like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs to repent so he can stop being disappointed in me.

I’m not trying to say that sin isn’t a big deal; it is. And I’m not trying to say that repentance isn’t serious and important; it is. But my sin never surprises God. It doesn’t shock him, and it doesn’t disappoint him, as if he had his hopes up expecting me to do the right thing and then I let him down. He already knew. The day he wrote my name in his book, he already knew exactly how many sins I was going to commit over the course of my life. He already knew exactly how many sins his blood would cover. He didn’t say, “Ah, Caitlyn looks promising! She could be pretty awesome if she doesn’t screw this up.”

He already knew. And still he chose me just the same.

Because here’s the deal: he sees me through the veil of Jesus’ blood--his holiness. He looks at me and he sees the person he made me to be. That’s what forgiveness is all about. He knows he’s still helping me work through my junk, but since he sees all times at once, he can look at me and see who I will be a thousand years from now, when I am in heaven and not struggling with all this anymore. Isn’t that a crazy thought.

What blows my mind is this: My failing and struggling and trying and falling does not lessen God’s delight in me. Let me say that again:

My struggling does not lessen God’s delight in me!

I thrill his heart! Even when I’m all tangled up with my junk and I’m so frustrated at myself, he still looks at me and calls me beautiful. That’s a miracle, right there.

In fact, it’s the struggle that he loves! He loves it when I don’t just give up and give in to sin but keep wrestling with it, because that struggle proves my love for him. I screw up far too often, and my love might be shaky at times, but God knows that it’s genuine. He gets so excited when I come back again

and again

and again because that’s me reaching out for him. It would be so much easier to just write myself off as a failed Christian and just decide to live however I want, rather than trying over and over and over. It’s hard to try over and over and over! And God loves it when I do the hard things for him.

Here’s the kicker: God’s not just putting up with me. Nor is he giving grace just because he’s God and that’s what he does. It’s true, grace is part of God’s nature, but there’s more than that.

He wants me. He actually wants to be with me. Not only does he love me, he really likes me! (Have you ever said about someone, “I may love him, but I don’t have to like him”? Not God.) He is completely infatuated with me. He dances over me. He loves to hang out with me. He wants to hang out with me for all eternity!

I make his heart smile. I make God’s heart smile, just by being me!

And that is a truth that will keep me coming back, again

and again

and again.

These thoughts were pretty directly inspired by some things I’ve been discovering through Misty Edwards, particularly her prophetic song “I Knew What I Was Getting Into.” Below is the video and the transcript.

(starting at 1 minute)

Listen, my beloved

Listen, my beloved ones, in whom I am well pleased

Listen, my beloved ones

I knew what I was getting into when I called you

And I am not surprised with you now

I knew what I was getting into you

When I said your name

And still I said it just the same

I know you better that you do

I knew what I was getting into when I chose you

I chose you still

I knew what I was getting into

I know you’re afraid

And I remember that you are but dust

But I know where this is going

I knew what I was getting into when I called you

I don’t regret it

I am not shocked by your struggle

I am not put off by your struggle

I am not disgusted or ashamed of you

I knew what I was getting into when I chose you

And I said,

“He is my vessel, he is my chosen one

She’s my vessel, she’s my chosen one”

You see, it’s not about you

It’s all about me

I chose you and that’s enough

And I’m gonna bring you forth in love

I’m gonna bring you to the end

I’m gonna bring you to the end in strength

Cause I see strength in you

When all that you can see inside of you is your own weakness

Oh, but I see the end from the beginning

And I know where this is going

And you’ve barely just begun

But you see, you see,

So few will ever fight the good fight

At least you’re fighting

Even when you feel you’re losing

So few will ever enter into the battle

But you refuse to quit

And this is all I ask

This is all I ask

So few will ever look back at me and say,

“I really want to love you!”

But you say it every day, every day

You say, “I really want to love you!”

And you cry

And you say, “I’m so sinful, and I’m so full of compromise!”

And I see your confession and it’s real

And I still believe those vows you make, you break

You make, you break

I still believe in you

I knew what I was getting into when I called you

And I called you just the same

I knew what I was getting into when I beckoned you

And I still beckon you today

I am not surprised by your struggle

I am not disgusted by your discovery

You’re the one that is surprised

In your pride you thought that you were better than that

Listen

I see the seeds of righteousness in you

I’ve clothed you with the blood of my Son

And its enough

It’s enough, it’s enough

Why are you trying to get in a room you’re already in?

You’re already in

I am not surprised

I know you better than you know yourself

And you say “yes” and so few do

Who is this, who is this, who is this who’s beautiful as Tirzah

Awesome as Jerusalem

Awesome as an army with banners?

Who is this?

Lovely as Jerusalem

Beautiful as Tirzah

Who is this?

Look away from me

Your eyes, they overwhelm me

Yes, your eyes, your eyes, they overwhelm me

I sympathize with you

I know you’re in a dark night of faith

And yet you still have faith and so few do

You are my favorite one

You're the only one I see

You’re the only one, my favorite one

You’ve ravished me

Dare to believe

I know you’re disappointed with the way your life is coming down

And bitterness is trying to bind you like a plague

But you fought

And you fight

And you press on

And you push

And you long

And you reach

And you mourn

And you hunger

And you thirst

That’s all I ask of you

It’s all I ask of you

Do you know the way this moves me?

You’ve ruined me

Nothing can overwhelm me, but you overwhelm me

Your eyes are like doves’ eyes

Your eyes are like doves’ eyes

You think that you waver in your vision

Oh, but you come back again and again and again and again

You didn’t give up, you didn’t give in

You didn’t let shame pull you down

You didn’t just hang up and say, “I can’t do it; it’s too hard.”

You didn’t accuse me of being too hard, no

You said, “I wanna try again.”

You got up again and again and again

You repented again and again and again

It’s all I ask of you

Just don’t give up

And don’t give in

If you don’t quit

You’ll live

Angels, oh angels, gather round

Angels, oh angels, look and see

Through that dark night of faith she’s still choosing me

Angels, oh angels, oh angels, gather round

As he spins around wildly rejoicing

Rejoicing

As he spins around wildly singing

She said yes

He said yes

She said yes

He said yes

Again and again and again and again and again

He chose humility when he was overlooked

He chose humility when he was misunderstood

He chose humility when he was falsely accused

She chose humility when she was disappointed

She said no to bitterness

And when she was so afraid, she got up again

Look, angels, look

Angels, angels, angels, look and see

Oh, the way they move me

Tell them the way they move me

Hephzibah

Beulah

Tell them the way they move me

Hephzibah

Beulah

My delight is in you

I’m married to you

It’s more than just mercy

You’re not a project to make me look good

There’s more than only mercy working here

I don’t just feel sorry for you

I want you

I want you

You’ve ravished me

You’ve ravished my heart

I want you

I want you

I love you

I like you

I delight in you

You’re the object of my affection

You’re the center of my world

You are the apple of my eye

There’s more than just pity

You are the apple of my eye

You’re the center of my world

You’re the only one

You’re the favorite one

Who is this who’s beautiful as Tirzah

Lovely as Jerusalem

Awesome as an army with banners?

Turn your eye away

Your eye has overwhelmed me

Who is this?

Beautiful as Tirzah

Lovely as Jerusalem

Awesome as an army with banners

I see strength in you

You see your weakness

I see strength in you

I know the end from the beginning

I know where this thing is going

You do love me

I know you love me

I know you love me even more than you know you love me

I know you love me

And I was not surprised by you

Oh, no, no, no, no, no

I knew what I was getting into when I called you

And still I called you

I knew what I was getting into when I beckoned you

And still I’m beckoning today

I knew what I was getting into

And I knew this would work in you humility

And humility is of greater value to me than even your perfection right now

Humility is the only way to perfection anyway

I knew what I was getting into when I called you

Still I call you

And I am not shocked by you

I’m not disgusted, no

Quite the opposite

You’ve ravished me

Will you marry me?

Will you take my name?

And all that’s yours will be mine

And all that’s mine is yours

Will you marry me?

Will you take my name?

And all that’s yours is mine

And all that’s mine is yours

It’s yours

And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.

--Philippians 1:6 ESV

Declaring the end from the beginning and from ancient times things not yet done, saying, ‘My counsel shall stand, and I will accomplish all my purpose,’

--Isaiah 46:10 ESV

You are beautiful as Tirzah, my love,

lovely as Jerusalem,

awesome as an army with banners.

Turn away your eyes from me,

for they overwhelm me

--Song of Songs 6:4 ESV

You have captivated [ravished] my heart, my sister, my bride; you have captivated my heart with one glance of your eyes, with one jewel of your necklace.

--Song of Songs 4:9 ESV

Behold, you are fair, my love; behold, you are fair; you have doves' eyes.

--Song of Songs 1:15 AKJV

The Lord your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing.

--Zephaniah 3:17 ESV

Never again will you be called “The Forsaken City” or “The Desolate Land.” Your new name will be “The City of God’s Delight" [Hebrew: Hephzibah] and “The Bride of God," [Hebrew: Beulah] for the LORD delights in you and will claim you as his bride.
--Isaiah 62:4 NLT

Like a young man taking a virgin as his bride, He who formed you will marry you. As a groom is delighted with his bride, so your God will delight in you.
--Isaiah 62:5 GNT

The Journey 2011

2010-12-30T22:16:00.000-08:00

The Holy Bible. The Word of God. Scripture. The Good Book. Santa Biblia. Etc.

66 books, 1,189 chapters, 31,173 verses.

That's a lot of words. It can seem pretty daunting. A lot of people, even Christians, are only familiar with the famous parts of the Bible, like 1 Corinthians 13 and the Lord's Prayer. They might know that David was the King of Israel but don't know exactly what he did, other than the Psalms and the whole Bathsheba thing. The sad truth is that less than 10% of Christians have read through the whole Bible even once.

But here's the deal: if we want to know God, there's no getting around the fact that he has revealed himself most fully in the Bible. And it's kind of lame to rely on a pastor (or a blogger) to tell us what it says.

And besides, like The Princess Bride, the Bible has everything: fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, chases, escapes, true love, miracles... well, maybe not the fencing. The Bible contains story after story after story about ordinary people encountering an extraordinary God. Ultimately, the Bible shows us WHO GOD IS.

So here's my challenge to you: Starting January 1, read through the whole Bible in 2011. Seriously. It will only take around 20 minutes a day, but the rewards will last an eternity.

It's a journey. It will be exhilarating, it will be hard, it will seem to take forever, but it will be worth it. I promise, you will be so glad you did.

Here's the hard part, though: Don't read it just to get it done. If you want to do this, expend a little effort to do it well. I suggest you start by praying something like David did, "Open my eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out of your law," (Psalm 119:18) and then let your imagination run wild. Let God show you things you've never seen before. Don't be afraid to write in your Bible. Read with a pen in hand and a journal nearby, because as you find these wondrous things, you're going to want to write them down so you don't forget.

You can use any reading plan you want, although I'd be really excited if you join me in reading through the Bible chronologically, in the order it happened. You can find tons of reading plans here (http://www.ewordtoday.com/year/) and the one I'm going to be doing is here (http://www.ewordtoday.com/year/esv/cjan01.htm). The advantage of reading along with me is that I'll be occasionally blogging about some of what I'm reading, and I'd love if we can journey through together!

One more thing: If you start late or fall behind, don't get discouraged. Pick it back up. I suggest reading no more than two days worth of material at a time, though, or else you'll find yourself reading ten days all at once and not absorbing any of it. I've definitely done that before. Bad idea.

So, who's with me? Are you ready to undertake the journey through the most incredible and supernatural book ever written? If you dare, post a comment below to declare your commitment to the world. Then, for today, here's what I suggest: read Psalm 119. As you read, ask God to prepare your heart for everything he's about to show you.

Then take a deep breath and prepare to be amazed, because your journey has only just begun.

Diary of a Pregnant Virgin #18

2010-12-25T06:00:00.000-08:00

Dear Diary,

It finally happened. All those months of waiting, worrying, praying, trusting, and it finally happened.

The closer we got to Bethlehem, the more I could feel that it was almost time. I felt my insides clenching and twisting, sharp pains all through my belly. It would come and then subside, and then come again, harder. Joseph was hurrying as fast as he could. Poor guy, he was trying to hold it all together, but he looked frantic. There were so many people! Carts and donkeys and people with bundles and walking sticks, all bumping into each other and shouting. We pushed through the crowd and waited in a line, and Joseph must have paid the taxes, but I don’t really remember that part. I was just trying to remember to breathe and hold my insides in place and not fall off the donkey all at once.

It was dark by the time we started looking for a place to stay. Joseph made our way to the town inn, and we knocked on the door. Then again, louder. Finally, a big burly man opened the door. He had this “what now?” look on his face that made me feel bad for bothering him, but we had no choice.

Joseph said, “I’m sorry to bother you so late, but we’re looking for a room. Do you have anything available?”

The man laughed. “In this crowd? We’ve been full up for days. Seems everyone and his uncle is related to ol’ King David, and they’ve all come here.”

“But don’t you have anything at all?” Joseph pressed. “My wife’s about to have a baby, we just need some place for her to lie down.”

The man looked at me. I was pale and sweating and breathing hard, and I think he felt sorry for me, because he softened a little and said, “Look, I wish I could help you, but we got people in the closets and in the kitchen and every place they can find a few square feet to lay out their blankets. We just don’t have any room left.”

Joseph wasn’t giving up. “Is there another inn in town, or anywhere we can—”

The man shook his head firmly. “Nope, and I’m real sorry, but that’s the fact of it. You’ll just have to figure something out.”

A woman who must have been the man’s wife came to join him at the door. She saw me and instantly her eyes got wide. “Jacob, can’t you see—” she started.

“Of course I see, Ruth, but that don’t change facts,” he insisted.

She turned to Joseph. “We do have the stable—it’s just a cave where we keep the animals, but it should be warm and private.”

Joseph grinned up at me and nodded to her. “Thanks so much, that will be perfect.”

“Jacob will show you the way.” She nudged him. He nodded and grabbed two lamps and handed one to Joseph.

The cave smelled like animals. There is no nice way to say it; this place stank. There were several goats and a cow staring at us, and I think there was a pig asleep in the corner too. But it was out of the wind, and there was plenty of fresh hay which Joseph quickly smoothed out and lay his coat over to make a bed for me. He helped me lay down and then sat next to me, wide eyed and fidgety.

“How are you doing? Are you okay?” he asked, when clearly I was not. The pains were sharper now, and I kept forcing myself to relax when I really just wanted to double over and scream.

He helped me drink some water and then asked, “Should I get a midwife?”

“There’s no time,” I gasped. “We’re going to—have to do this—ourselves.”

I told him to have water and blankets ready, and a knife for the umbilical cord. Then he helped me get into the right position and held my hand.

I knew it would hurt, but I had no idea how much. I felt like I was ripping in half. I remember screaming and clenching and yelling, “Oh, God!” and struggling to breathe while Joseph was saying, “Push, push!”

Then finally, after what felt like hours—it was over. I collapsed in a sweaty mess back on the hay. Then I held my breath and waited.

I heard it. A baby’s cry—loud, and so young, the newest sound on the face of the earth.

Joseph cleaned him up and wrapped him in the cloths I had brought. Then he handed him to me, and I got to hold my son in my arms for the first time.

He was all red and wrinkly, and still screaming, so I shushed him softly while I ran my fingers over his skin. I touched his little nose and ears and the tiny wet hairs. I touched his tiny fingers and tiny curled toes. He was perfect. Red, loud, and perfect. Beautiful.

A sense of awe flooded me. This was the baby that was planted in me by the Spirit of God. He was fathered not by any human, but by God. This was the child the prophets foretold, the king who would bring peace.

“Jesus,” I whispered. I bent down to kiss his tiny forehead. His screams eventually quieted and those tiny brown eyes slowly focused on mine.

This is our Emmanuel. God with us.

Joseph made him a bed of fresh hay in the manger. I spread out a blanket and lay our tiny son in it, asleep now. I lay my head on Joseph’s shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around me.

“Can you believe it, Joseph?” I whispered.

Joseph started to say something but then couldn’t, so he just held me closer and rubbed my arm slowly. He put out his hand to touch the manger and sat still like that, with his head bowed.

I wish that moment could have lasted forever, but after a minute we heard footsteps pounding outside the cave. Joseph jumped up just as a young face burst around the corner. The intruder leaned on the wall gasping for air and staring at us with huge eyes.

In a matter of seconds he was joined by at least half a dozen more, from young boys to old men. They thundered up and then fell abruptly still and silent, staring.

“Can I help you?” Joseph ventured. I saw his hand close over his walking stick.

The oldest of the group stepped forward. “Is this the child? Is this the one who will be the Messiah?”

Joseph looked at them warily. “What makes you say that?”

The old man spoke as if he could hardly believe what he was saying. “We have seen angels. We were just watching our sheep, when all of a sudden—huge angels, lighting up the sky, singing praises to God. They told us we would find the newborn Messiah here, lying in a manger.”

(I have to admit, at this point I was hardly surprised. Compared to the miracle that had just come out of me, more angels was nothing. Joseph and I had certainly seen our share.)

Joseph looked back at me. I looked at the sleeping baby. If God wanted to invite others to share our miracle, then why not? I nodded to my husband.

He stepped aside and let them in. They came forward slowly, eyes locked on the manger. They stopped a few feet away, then one by one they dropped to their knees.

My eyes filled with tears. Out of all the people in the world God could have told. It should have been King Herod or priests or noblemen showing up at the cave to worship, but it was this ragtag little group of shepherds instead, come to see the peasant couple and their baby. In the stinky cave.

Isn’t that so just like him?

I picked up my tiny Jesus and asked the shepherds if they would like to hold him. One by one, with total reverence, they cradled him in their rough hands. I saw leathered faces stream with tears, and I heard boys my own age whispering words of worship as they touched the tiny hands in awe.

The old man looked at me, and recited a verse that I recognized immediately but had somehow forgotten. “But you, O Bethlehem Ephrathah, who are too little to be among the clans of Judah, from you shall come forth for me one who is to be ruler of Israel, whose coming forth is from old, from ancient days.”

I gasped and reached for Joseph’s hand. All this time, all that stupid long trip, and everything before, it was for God’s plan all along.

The shepherds eventually left and woke up the whole town to tell them what had happened. Everyone came crowding into the stable, and Jesus woke up and started screaming again. Then lo and behold, someone realized they did have a spare room after all, so Joseph and I traveled back into town to sleep in a real bed for the rest of the night.

Wow. Even after writing all that, it still seems so unreal. God chose me—me, Mary from Nazareth!—to give birth to his son. Joseph and I traveled to Bethlehem, and there the Messiah was born on a pile of straw. It sounds crazy, but there it is. It all happened.

God proved everything he has ever told us by sending his own son to be born tonight. He was born naked and red and screaming like any other newborn, but this is no ordinary baby. This is the son of God.

But this whole thing is so much bigger than what happened tonight. The world is about to change. God has started the ball rolling for something bigger than he’s ever done before.

And it’s only just beginning.

And his mother treasured up all these things in her heart.

Luke 2:51

Luke 2:6-20
Micah 5:2

As I finish up this series, I would like to thank Marjorie Holmes for writing the book that inspired this journey, “Two From Galilee.” I would also like to thank all of you who have encouraged me along the way. I hope you have been as blessed to read it as I have to write it. I feel like experiencing this with Mary has pushed me to consider the miracle of Christmas in a whole new depth, to think and pray and trust and worship more truly. One of my most beloved inspirations once characterized writing thus: “Write to discover. There is no greater discovery than love. All love comes from the Creator. Write what you will.” That’s exactly what happened to me. I rediscovered love while writing this, and it drew me closer to the Creator who created himself into the form of a helpless infant who would grow up to change everything. I can only pray it has, on some level, done the same for you.

I’ve been rather surprised to discover as I write that Mary is me. Really, she is all of us. She is the ordinary person chosen for extraordinary things. Her blessings didn’t always look like blessings, but she kept trusting because she realized that God was all she had and his plan is always good. Mary’s trust in God’s promise paved the way for the greatest miracle of all time: God becoming human to show us what love looks like, to rescue us from utter darkness, at the cost of his own life. He chose to be with us, to live life with us, and he died and rose so that he can still live life with us today.

This is our Emmanuel. God with us.

God bless you and merry Christmas.

Diary of a Pregnant Virgin #17

2010-12-24T11:49:00.000-08:00

Dear Diary,

I’m pretty sure this is the most inconvenient thing that could possibly happen right now. Apparently the Roman Emperor got up one day and decided it was a beautiful day for some new taxes. He’s taxing pretty much everyone in the known world. So can we just stroll down to our neighborhood Roman outpost and pay our taxes? No, of course not, because this is our beloved Caesar Augustus, and that would be way too easy. So we have to go all the way to wherever our ancestors are originally from. In our case, that happens to be Bethlehem, the city of David. It’s a week’s journey away, through rough terrain.

Joseph fumed for a while, then started making plans. He talked about everything he would need to pack, and then he said he would leave me with my parents while he was gone. That’s when I stopped him.

“I’m coming too,” I said.

“No, you’re not,” he said.

“Yes, I am.”

“No, you’re not—Mary, you’re nine months pregnant, for heaven’s sake!”

“Joseph, I’m stubborn and I’m going.”

So the next day he packed up the donkey for both of us.

It’s been four days on the road now. It’s going to be another two at least before we get to Bethlehem. It’s ridiculously cold, even during the daytime. We have to constantly keep an eye out for robbers. I’m riding on the donkey, which is way better than walking, but all this jostling is pretty painful. I’m enormous now. I’d hardly be comfortable at home on the couch, let alone riding a donkey through the mountains for a week straight.

Still, it’s been so nice to have this time together just to talk. We mostly talk about the baby, of course. What he’s going to look like, what his first words will be, whether he will know who he is, whether he’ll have to struggle to learn the Law like other boys. And we talk about our own story. This morning I asked Joseph to tell me again what the angel said to him.

“He—well, at least it might have been a he—said to me, ‘Joseph, do not be afraid to take Mary to be your wife. For it is by the Holy Spirit that she has conceived. She will have a son, and you will name him Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.’”

“What do you think that last part means, that he will save his people from their sins?”

“The Messiah will defeat Israel’s enemies and establish a kingdom that will never end. Maybe it means it will save us from the punishment of our sins, like when God brought us back from the exile.”

“But we aren’t in exile now, Joseph. This is Israel.”

“It’s an Israel ruled by the Romans. Hardly Israel as she was meant to be.”

“Maybe… but what if it means more?” I told him about the passage in Isaiah. I’ve been thinking about this ever since Elizabeth’s, and I still have it memorized.

“‘Surely he has borne our greifs
and carried our sorrows;
yet we esteemed him stricken.
smitten by God, and afflicted.
But he was wounded for our transgressions;
he was crushed for our iniquities;
upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace,
and with his stripes we are healed.’

“It says he actually takes the punishment for our sins. That can only mean one thing, Joseph.”

Joseph was quiet. I saw him thinking with me. He said it before I did. I don’t think I could actually bring myself to say the word.

“Sacrifice.”

I nodded, my throat tight. I pressed my hand against my stomach. “Just like the sheep in the temple.”

Joseph shook his head. “Beaten bloody and killed… your child, Mary…”

“I know he’s my child!” I shouted suddenly. “I know! I have born him for nine months, and I loathe the thought of any pain coming to him, much less torture and death. I wish it was me! I wish Isaiah wrote that the virgin would be afflicted, not this innocent baby! I hate it! I hate it!” The donkey had stopped, and I was shaking now. My throat hurt from the tears and the shouting. A tear landed on my belly. Joseph gave me his hand, and I gripped it hard to steady myself.

Then I said, “But he was God’s son before he was ours, and I’m sure God wouldn’t let this happen if there was any other way. If this is what has to happen… then what can we say, Joseph? What can we say?”

Joseph held me against his shoulder and let me cry. I felt his tears falling on my neck too. I felt the baby pressed between us, ignorant of what was coming.

It was just the two of us with the baby and the donkey in the middle of nowhere, but it didn’t feel like we were alone. It was as if all of heaven was heavy with sorrow. I knew God was there, and he was crying with us. We stayed there for a long time, three parents weeping for our son.

I heard Joseph start to pray. “Holy God, we’re just two people, and we don’t understand what you’re doing, but we know you have a plan. We trust that if pain has to come for your plan to be accomplished, then that’s what has to happen. We trust that you will be with us, and with your son, all the days of his life. Thank you that you have promised to bring us peace. Thank you for giving humanity this miracle, and for letting us be a part of it. Be with us now, God. Give us strength for the days ahead.”

I whispered along with him. “Help us, God. I’m scared. I’m not ready to give birth and be a mother. I’m not ready to do what you’ve called me to. I don’t know how to be the mother of the messiah, to raise him up right and then to let him go when the time comes. I don’t know how I’m going to bear all those things happening, and I don’t even know how I’m going to get through the next few days, but I trust you. God, we trust you. We can’t do any of this without you. Thank you for choosing me—for choosing both of us. I praise you for that. Now help us. Help me. Be with me, and help me be strong.”

Joseph stroked my hair. “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters.”

I joined him, and we finished the Psalm together.

“He restores my soul.
He leads me in paths of righteousness
for his name’s sake.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil,
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff,
they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me
in the presence of my enemies;
you anoint my head with oil,
my cup overflows.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me
all the days of my life,
and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord
forever.”

So I’m still annoyed at Caesar, still cold and sore and tired, but God will be with us. Bethlehem’s only two days away. We’ll find a nice quiet room where I can rest. This little messiahling isn’t going to wait much longer!

Micah 5:2
Luke 2:1-5
Isaiah 53:4-5
Psalm 23:1-6

Diary of a Pregnant Virgin #16

2010-12-23T11:00:00.000-08:00

Dear Diary,

I’m eight months pregnant now. I can barely move. I’m always tired but have a hard time sleeping, I’m eating the weirdest things, and I’ve got an entire map of stretch marks on me. I feel like I’m going to pop any day, but I still have a month to go.

Joseph’s been so amazing, though. He’s absolutely babied me—gotten me every pillow I want, rubbed my feet in the middle of the night, and let me eat bowl after bowl of olives. I don’t know why, but I’m craving olives almost every waking moment. Olives and chocolate.

Even better, Joseph keeps saying “our baby.” He hasn’t forgotten that this is a miracle baby in every way, but he told me that he feels like God’s entrusted the role of earthly father to him, and he intends to live up to that. He even made a beautiful wooden cradle. He says as soon as the baby’s born, he’s going to fall asleep right there on a bed of soft wool, and he’s not going to cry once. I’m not so sure about that, but who knows? Would the son of God cry like normal babies? Or is he too righteous for that?

He’s not too righteous to kick, that’s for sure. He’s quite an active little bugger. (I hope that’s not blasphemy—sorry, God!) I have to tell him sometimes, “I’m not your war horse, and I’m not going to gallop for you!” I think he’s just getting impatient to come out and get on with it already.

It seems like most of the scandal has pretty much blown over now, thank God. These women are just so excited bring the baby into the world, they don’t even mention how it all started. They’ve been giving me all sorts of advice on herbs things to make me more comfortable, and at least four of them have offered to be my midwife. I told them all I want my mom to do it.

Everyone keeps asking what we’re going to name the child if it’s a boy or if it’s a girl. We haven’t told them we already know it’s a boy and we already picked a name. I just feel like we should keep it to ourselves for a while. I know, it’s silly… I mean, it’s a common enough name; it was the name of Moses’ successor, the one who marched around the walls of Jericho. The name literally means “Jehovah saves,” or just “savior.” That’s not so unusual; a lot of people name their kids after some part of God’s character, but it feels different this time. This isn’t any ordinary baby named after a Scripture hero. This is the one who is going to be the greatest hero of all time.

Jesus.

Matthew 1:21

Diary of a Pregnant Virgin #15

2010-12-22T08:49:00.000-08:00

Dear Diary,

I’M MARRIED! Mary, daughter of Aaron, has become Mary, wife of Joseph. It all happened so fast, I can hardly believe it!

Mom had been going crazy with planning the past couple of months. Luckily we’d been talking about plans ever since Joseph proposed, so she already mostly knew what I wanted. I only wanted one bridesmaid, my cousin Rebekah, who has been my best friend since we were little. Her gown was light blue with a deep purple sash, and the cake was large enough but not enormous, trimmed with purple frosting roses. The day before the wedding Mom had all the younger cousins in our family run around Nazareth picking flowers, and they made beautiful bouquets for me and Rebekah and garlands to decorate the synagogue.

The most important part, though, was of course my dress. Every since I was little I’ve wanted to wear my mom’s dress on my wedding day. I used to play dress-up in it, but we hadn’t pulled it out of its box in years. So as soon as I got home, Mom pulled me into her room and got it out. We were both so nervous it wouldn’t fit, but, thank the Lord, it did! We only needed to hem it a little bit, and it was perfect. It’s the most exquisite thing ever, with tiny flowers embroidered all around the sleeves and neckline.

Yesterday morning was the big day. I woke up early, as soon as the sun came in my window and made me squint. Mom made breakfast cakes with sweet syrup for my last meal in their house. Then she helped me brush my hair and twist it back on the sides, with a few little wisps falling around my face. I pulled the dress over my head and let Mom tie the sash around my waist. Then I tucked fresh flowers in my hair and put on my veil. It was long and gauzy and fell down almost to my waist in front and to my knees in back. It felt like I was wrapped in mist.

Surprisingly enough, we all held it together just fine all morning. I was actually doing just fine until I started walking down the aisle clutching my dad’s arm. I saw Joseph standing at the other end, looking like he could hardly breathe. I saw his eyes sparkling at me, and although we hadn’t said one word to each other yet, it was as if I could read all his vows there already. For better or for worse, in sickness and in health… At that moment, it didn’t even matter that I was specially favored by God and pregnant with the Messiah and all that. I was just a girl marrying the man of her dreams.

And then again, God was so there. I could almost feel him smiling down on us. There was so much love in that room—from God, from me and Joseph, from all our family and friends—I swear I thought my heart would burst right there in the aisle.

It felt like the ceremony had barely started, when I realized we were at the end and I heard the words, “I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

So Joseph kissed the bride. For the first time ever, in front of everybody. The carpenter and his pregnant virgin bride. It was absolutely surreal, and beautiful, and perfect, and strange, and magical, all at once. We’ve kissed since then, of course, but there can only be one First Kiss. That’s something I’m going to remember forever.

Joseph and I went home after that. Since we kind of had to get married so quickly, there wasn’t any budget for a proper honeymoon, so we just went straight home to the house Joseph built. I honestly don’t mind, though. Who needs a beach, really? We’ve got each other. No matter what weirdness happens next, or what people say, Joseph and I have got each other. And just by that simple fact, I feel like I’m flying.

There’s only one downside. Joseph and I talked about it, and we decided that the Messiah being born of a virgin like it says in Isaiah means he has to actually be born from someone who’s still a virgin. So… we’re going to hold off for a while. It’s going to be difficult, but we don’t want to take the chance of messing anything up. You know what, though, we’re still together. Forever and ever, till death do us part. And tonight I get to fall asleep tucked under my husband’s arm!

Isaiah 7:14
Matthew 1:24-25

Diary of a Pregnant Virgin #14

2010-12-19T22:15:00.000-08:00

Dear Diary,

Guess what I’m doing right now? I’m packing! I’m going home! Joseph—MY Joseph—has come to take me home!

This afternoon I was sitting with Elizabeth. She was just starting to tell me again about that passage in Isaiah when Joseph showed up. We’d left the door open for a breeze, and as soon as I saw him coming I jumped up and started to run to him, but then stopped myself. What was he doing here?

As soon as he saw me, though, he started running. His whole face lit up and he charged into Elizabeth’s house and grabbed me and swung me around. I couldn’t believe it. I was laughing, and he was laughing, and Elizabeth was laughing, and he swung me around at least four times before putting me down. (Thank goodness, because I was starting to feel nauseous. This morning sickness thing has been so much fun.)

I introduced Joseph to Elizabeth and her eyes twinkled as she shook his hand. Then he grabbed my hands and looked me in the face. His eyes were so intense, even more than the day he proposed.

“Mary, I have come to ask your forgiveness for not believing you. I never should have doubted your word; walking away was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. But God has revealed the truth to me, and now I’ve just come to say this: If you’ll let me, I will love you and take care of you for the rest of my life, and I will try my best to be the father this baby deserves. I wouldn’t blame you if you just sent me home alone, after all I’ve put you through… but I really do want to take you back to Nazareth with me, as my betrothed. If you can find it in your heart to give me a second chance… Mary, will you marry me?”

I hugged him tight. “I love you, Joseph,” I whispered. “I never stopped.”

We stood there gripping each other. My throat got tight and I silently thanked God for this new miracle.

Elizabeth announced, “Well, this calls for a celebration! I’ll get the cake I’ve been saving for Sabbath. I don’t think God will mind.”

So we sat around Elizabeth’s living room eating cake and Joseph told us how God had revealed the truth to him. He said that after he had broken off our engagement, he was heartbroken and angry—at me, at the other guy, and most of all at God. He did a lot of yelling at God, out in the same field where I had encountered that crazy peace. Then he started thinking about what to do. Breaking off the relationship with me was only step one. He still had to go to my father in private and formally end the engagement. People take betrothal so seriously that breaking it off is pretty much the same as divorce. But still, divorcing me quietly was kinder than exposing me to public humiliation and maybe even stoning. How about that—even in breaking my heart Joseph tries to be honorable!

“Then one night—I had a dream,” Joseph said. “At least I was asleep, so it must have been a dream, but I’ve never had a dream so real in all my life… I saw you, Mary, with your stomach big all around. You were dressed in white and had a veil over your face. I saw you smile at me through the veil, and I saw myself standing next to you with our hands resting on your stomach. We both looked so happy. There was something just right about it.

“I heard a voice behind me saying my name. I turned around, and I swear—it was an angel, just like you saw! I can’t even describe it. The light was so bright! He said, ‘Joseph, do not be afraid to take Mary to be your wife. For it is by the Holy Spirit that she has conceived. She will have a son, and you will name him Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.’”

I almost started crying all over again. Elizabeth quietly handed me a tissue, but I just held it in my fist, determined not to need it. Joseph continued.

“I woke up with this total confidence that everything was going to be okay. Then all of a sudden I had this rush of joy as I realized—I could marry you! I was so excited I couldn’t sleep the rest of the night. I’m sorry I didn’t come earlier. I wanted to take you home right away, but your dad convinced me that we needed to have the wedding as soon as you came back, so of course I needed to have a house to take you to. So… I’ve spent the last two and a half months building us a house,” he announced proudly.

I was flabbergasted. “You built us a house? In just two and a half months?”

“Well, I found a fixer-upper that just needed some work,” he amended. “And it needed a nursery added on. I finished early this week, and I couldn’t wait any longer. Your mom’s been making all the wedding plans, and we’re getting married in two weeks!”

“She’s been planning the wedding all this time? How did you know I would say yes?” I asked.

He winked. “The angel was a big hint.”

I couldn’t help it—I threw my arms around him and laughed.

So now Joseph is sleeping in Elizabeth’s front room and I’m finishing packing. We’re leaving early tomorrow, so I really should sleep, but I’m way too excited to sleep. I’m going home—and I’m going to marry Joseph in just two short weeks!

Matthew 1:18-23

Diary of a Pregnant Virgin #13

2010-12-17T12:11:00.000-08:00

Dear Diary,

I think Elizabeth is the wisest person I have ever met. All these years married to a priest, and without kids to keep her busy, she’s pretty much made God the focus of her entire life. My favorite times during the couple months I’ve been here have been just sitting with her and talking. The other day I asked her about the Messiah.

Elizabeth explained to me that the prophecies show two different pictures of the Messiah. The first is the “warrior king” idea. Daniel had a vision of the Messiah being crowned king and all the nations of the earth serving him. He will rule forever and his kingdom will never be destroyed. David wrote in the Psalms that he will rule over his enemies, crush kings and judge nations. It’s a pretty violent passage.

This is the picture I hear talked about the most in the synagogue. Israel is really hurting right now. We’ve been under the thumb of the Romans for so long that we are desperate for the Messiah to come and save us, now more than ever. My dad talks about the Messiah overthrowing tyrants like Caesar and Herod. He gets that fire in his eyes like every Jew does when we talk about the Messiah’s never-ending kingdom.

The prophets also talk about another picture of the Messiah, the “suffering servant.” Zechariah talks about him being gentle and humble. But that’s just the tip of the iceberg. There’s a whole chapter in Isaiah that is just weird. Honestly… it kind of scares me. I spent all afternoon yesterday reading it over and over. I hope I’m missing something, because I can tell you right now that I’d rather die than let my baby go through this stuff. It says that he will be “despised and rejected,” and “oppressed and afflicted,” and then it goes on to talk about him being killed—it looks like willingly. How is this the same person as the “warrior king”?

Even Elizabeth didn’t have an answer for that. She did tell me one thing, though.

“God has promised to rescue his people through the Messiah. You can bet that he will keep his promise. Whether this Messiah that you carry will be born with a sword in his hand to defeat the Romans and set up a palace in Jerusalem, or whether he will be killed like a helpless lamb, God’s salvation will be accomplished through it.” She reached out and put her hand on my knee. I was gripping my stomach and fighting back tears. “There will be pain, my precious Mary, for you in a very special way, but it will all be for the best in the end. God’s glory will shine through.”

I love Elizabeth. She helps me believe that I’m not crazy and God is really doing something big here, bigger than he’s ever done before. Her faith helps my faith stay strong.

Daniel 7:14
Psalm 110:1-7
Zechariah 9:9
Isaiah 53:1-12

Diary of a Pregnant Virgin #12

2010-12-16T09:30:00.001-08:00

Dear Diary,

The first thing Elizabeth did when we got inside after my little spontaneous Psalm was sit me down on a chair with a cushion and bustle around to get me some food and a drink. We sat down together and over bread and fruit I explained the whole story, about the angel and the Messiah and the virgin in Isaiah. When I said that the angel said my baby is the “holy Son of God,” Elizabeth startled me by laughing out loud and tilting her head back with her eyes closed. I couldn’t help laughing with her. She rested like that for a few moments with a little smile, then looked back at me and said, “Well, go on, dear.” I told her about what happened in the field. She just smiled softly, and I realized I didn’t have to explain what it was like… somehow, she already knew.

I told her about how my parents reacted. I got choked up when I told her about Joseph. She moved over next to me and gave me a big, long hug. I started crying for real. Surprisingly, it wasn’t even awkward. She just held me until the tears stopped.

Then she brought me a tissue box, and as I blew my nose, she told me her story. It’s almost as crazy as mine.

About seven months ago, it was Zacharias’ turn to burn incense in the temple, in the Holy Place—the room just outside the Holy of Holies, the most sacred room of all. He went inside to perform the ritual, and he didn’t come out for a long time. The other priests were getting worried. They were debating over how illegal it would be to send someone in after him, when he finally came out. He seemed to be in shock. He was gesturing and moving his mouth, but no sound was coming out. The other priests eventually realized that he had seen a vision.

When Zacharias came home, he gave Elizabeth a kiss, then immediately sat down and wrote a long note explaining what had happened. He said that he had seen an angel and that Elizabeth was going to have a baby, with some sort of special mission from God. His voice had been taken away because he didn’t believe the angel at first. He hasn’t said a word since.

Sure enough, Elizabeth got pregnant soon after that. She was well past fifty but had never had a baby before. All the other women used to feel sorry for her, to be so old and never a mother. She laughed when she told me that now she loves to parade her fat, round belly around town! What a pair we make, the two impossible mothers-to-be! It’s so good to be able to talk to someone who understands, who will be able to share pregnancy with me and also help me sort through some of my spiritual questions.

Luke 1:5-25

Diary of a Pregnant Virgin #11

2010-12-14T06:00:00.000-08:00

Dear Diary,

I’m at Zacharias and Elizabeth’s house now. It was a long four days’ travel, but what happened when I got here totally made up for all that. First the angel, then the field, now this… I feel like I’m drowning in God-amazingness.

I got to Elizabeth’s house and knocked. I stood there waiting for someone to come to the door, and I started to get nervous and wondered if I had the right address. I was fumbling around in my bag for the directions Dad gave me when the door opened and Elizabeth stood there, looking very pregnant. She looked a little confused, and I realized she didn’t recognize me. I smiled and said, “Hello, Elizabeth? I’m Mary, your cousin from Nazareth.”

All at once her face lit up, and she grabbed her stomach. She laughed out loud and pulled me into a huge hug. “Mary, Mary, I can’t believe it!” she said over and over. Then she pulled back, grabbed my hands and announced very excitedly, “God has blessed you more than any other woman! He has also blessed the child you will have. Why should the mother of my Lord come to me?”

I kid you not, that’s what she said, as though I was doing her a favor by showing up at her house completely uninvited! How did she know I was pregnant, anyway?

Then she put my hand on her stomach and said, “As soon as I heard your greeting, my baby became happy and moved within me. The Lord has blessed you because you believed that he will keep his promise.”

I could feel it wriggling and kicking inside of her. I grabbed her hand and put it on mine. The baby is of course too small to feel yet, but it didn’t matter. We both knew it was there.

Then something—I don’t really know what—came over me. I was suddenly just so aware of God’s goodness and glory. It was almost like what I felt in the field, except instead of words going into me, there were words coming out of me! And they came out as a song! Out of nowhere, I started singing this song that was like a Psalm of David, right there on Elizabeth’s doorstep! It went something like this:

“My heart praises the Lord;
My soul rejoices in God my Savior,
For he has remembered me, his lowly servant!
From now on all people will call me blessed,
Because of the great things the Mighty God has done for me.
His name is holy;
From one generation to another
he shows mercy to those who honor him.
He has stretched out his mighty arm
and scattered the proud with all their plans.
He has brought down mighty kings from their thrones,
and lifted up the lowly.
He has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away with empty hands.
He has kept the promise he made to our ancestors,
and has come to the help of his servant Israel.
He has remembered to show mercy to Abraham
and to all his descendants forever!”

Even right now as I’m writing this, I’m overwhelmed all over again. God is so good. I am completely humbled by the way he honors me and remembers his people.

Thank you. You are absolutely wonderful and I love you.

Luke 1:36-59

Magnificat (Mary's Song) by Todd Agnew

Diary of a Pregnant Virgin #10

2010-12-12T06:00:00.000-08:00

Dear Diary,

I started throwing up this morning. Oh, joy.

In other news, apparently I’m going on a little adventure tomorrow…

Dad finally talked to me last night. He came in while I was getting ready for bed. He asked me what happened, so I told him the same story I told Mom. He gave me a long look, and then asked me if I was sure that was the absolute truth. I said yes. He reminded me that I’d been in danger of stoning, and even short of that, my engagement would also be in danger.

I told him, “Believe me, I know all that. I remember what happened to Anna. And… Joseph already broke up with me.”

My dad is such a dad. He didn’t say “I told you so,” he just gave me a big hug. I let him hold me tight as I rested my face against his chest. I needed that.

After a while, he pulled back and said, “Mary, you know I love you and don’t want to see anything hurt you. But you need to understand, this is not just going to go away. When people find out… things are going to get ugly. Even if they don’t stone you, you’ll likely be completely shunned.”

I tried again to make him understand. “And I can’t say I’m looking forward to it. But Dad… This is the Messiah we’re talking about. This has to happen. It won’t be easy, but God’s going to protect me. I mean, I’m part of his plan now.”

He shook his head. “My baby girl, the mother of the salvation of Israel… I’m still not sure if I can believe it.”

“I hope you can,” I said quietly. “He’s your grandson.”

Dad grinned in his lopsided way and stared out at the wall. “My grandson. That’s quite a thought.”

After a moment, he looked back at me and said, “Anyway, I talked to your mom about it, and we want to make this as easy as possible for you. We think it’s time you paid a visit to your cousin Elizabeth. Her husband Zacharias is a priest at the temple in Jerusalem. They’ll be able to take care of you for a little while.”

I was startled. I hadn’t told anyone yet what the angel had said about her, that she was pregnant after years of not having kids.

“For how long?” I asked.

“Well… would you be okay with having your baby there?”

I blinked. Nine whole months?

“But, Dad… I want to have the baby here, in our own home. I want Mom to be with me.”

“We might be able to send her up when your time comes. But, sweetie, think about it… the town isn’t exactly going to be on your side here. Those nine months are going to be very difficult for you. Best to come back once you’re… looking more yourself.”

Meaning, once you no longer have the scarlet letter expanding your belly like a balloon.

So I’m leaving. Tomorrow. Dad gave my one day to pack while he makes the travel plans, and then tomorrow I hitch a ride with some friends up to Elizabeth’s house, near Jerusalem. Her husband is a priest in the temple there.

I’m not sure how I feel about this. I know my parents mean well, but I can’t help feeling like an exile. I didn’t even do anything wrong! Must I be punished for obeying God?

I’m excited to see Elizabeth, but I’ll be sad to leave my family, and of course Joseph… but maybe it doesn’t matter now. It’s not like I’ll be seeing much of him anyway.

Maybe it’s for the best. I could use a change of scenery.

Luke 1:35

Diary of a Pregnant Virgin #9

2010-12-11T13:04:00.000-08:00

Dear Diary,

The past week has been horrible. It feels like God broke my heart and then abandoned me. I don’t know how to trust him right now, but I know it my gut that I have to. It’s the only thing I can do. Joseph’s gone, my parents are half-convinced I’m crazy… the only one I have left is God. Except it feels like he has also deserted me.

GOD! You can’t do this to me. You have no right. Aren’t you supposed to be taking care of me here? What about all that “plans to bring you a hope and a future” stuff? How is this bringing anyone a hope and a future? This isn’t what I signed up for. As a matter of fact, I didn’t sign up at all!

I wanted to just marry Joseph, live in Nazareth close to my parents, have kids someday, and basically live a normal life with the man I love. Then that first day when you chose me, I knew it would change everything, but… not like this. It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

I just don’t understand. I know that you have a plan, but I feel so lost not knowing what it is. Can you at least promise me—and I mean PROMISE ME—that it will all be okay?

Can I still trust you? Can you heal my broken heart? Can you still use this mess?

I keep saying I trust you, but I’ve reached a breaking point, and I’m not sure anymore. I do want to trust you, though. I really do. If anyone in the universe deserves my trust, it’s you.

The honest truth is: I am scared, confused, and just plain lonely. God, I need you again. I need you like I did that day in the field. I need you to help me trust you. Give me faith.

I don’t know how to do this right now… but maybe trust is a choice, not a feeling.

So right now, God, this is me making my decision. I choose to trust you because I believe you know what you’re doing. I don’t get it, but I trust that your plan is better than mine.

God, you are good. No matter what, you are always God and you are always good. I love you.

Diary of a Pregnant Virgin #8

2010-12-10T12:34:00.001-08:00

Dear Diary,

I still don’t know what Dad has to say. I think he and Mom must have talked, because now he stares at me in the weirdest way, as though he expects me to either sprout wings or horns and he hasn’t decided which.

I want my parents to believe me. They’re my parents; they’ve always believed in me. I hate the thought of going through this alone. But even if they don’t… I’m going to be okay. I have God on my side. He won’t leave me hanging.

And then there’s Joseph. I’ve been avoiding him. That was probably a really bad idea, but I don’t know how to tell him about any of this, the pregnancy thing or the Messiah thing, and I can’t stand the idea of hanging out with him while acting like nothing was wrong. After talking with Mom, though, I realized I couldn’t put it off any longer. God was with me when I talked to her, and he will be with me when I talk to Joseph, too.

I’m going to go over to his house right after dinner.

LATER—

I don’t know how I’m going to get through writing this. I just used up a whole box of tissues. This is, without a doubt, the worst day of my life.

So here’s what happened. I bumped into Joseph about half way. I hadn’t seen him in a while, and for a second he kind of took my breath away. Those strong, tan woodworker’s arms, the quick smile, those sparkly eyes that always make my heart light up… I remember thinking, Is it bad to say that my fiancé is freaking hot?!

As soon as Joseph saw me, he wrapped me up in a big hug. He smelled like Old Spice and sawdust. He mumbled into my hair something about how worried he’s been, and he missed me, and is everything okay… and all I could do was hug him tighter, because I didn’t know if he was ever going to speak to me again after I told him the truth.

I finally pulled back and said, “Joseph, we need to talk.”

He said, “Is it about the honeymoon? I know I said we couldn’t afford the beach, but I know how much it means to you so I worked something out so we can spend the whole week there—”

How sweet is that?! That’s so much just like him. Always trying to go above and beyond to make me happy.

“No, it’s not about the honeymoon, but I have something I have to tell you, and I’m afraid it’ll make you hate me, but it’s not what it sounds like so I need you to hear me out all the way through, because I love you, I love you so much, do you believe me?”

I realized I was crying and babbling, which were two things I had definitely not planned on doing, but at least it had gotten his attention. Joseph took my face in his hands and said, “Of course I believe you. I love you, Mary, and nothing you can say will ever, EVER make me hate you.”

So of course I kept crying and hugging him some more, clinging to him while he stroked my hair and I gulped for breath. Then finally, I whispered into his shoulder, “I’m pregnant.”

Immediately, I felt him tense. He froze with his hand in mid-stroke. He slowly pulled backwards and looked at me with a face I had never seen before. It was like stone, and it scared me. When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse.

“Who?”

“God.”

Joseph blinked. He stared at the ground, a heavy frown engraved on his brow. I closed my eyes, feeling the weight of every second.

“Please say something,” I whispered.

“Mary.” At his whisper I opened my eyes. “What was it about me that wasn’t enough?”

“Nothing!” I took a step forward. “I love you, Joseph, and I swear by the God of our fathers that I have been faithful to you. An angel appeared to me, and at first I could hardly believe it myself, but it’s true. This baby is sent straight from God. He will be the Messiah to save all of Israel. I have been chosen, Joseph.” I felt the tears leaking out again.

“Hundreds of years of waiting and you expect me to believe the Messiah has come to you?” Joseph shook his head.

My heart fell. You’d think my own husband-to-be would believe me!

“I’m sorry, I know how it sounds, I just—” I was babbling again

Abruptly, he took my face in his hands. They were warm and rough. “No no no, listen, listen—I love you, Mary, and we can work through this if you only tell me the truth. I promise, it will all be okay. So please, just tell me—what happened?”

Oh, Joseph! My heart melted and I thought about giving in. I could just tell him it was a boy from school, or a soldier passing through town. I could confess to betraying the man I love in order to keep him mine. It would be so easy. Joseph had promised to forgive me. He would protect me, and marry me, and raise the baby as his own. Maybe that’s what God intended all along.

But—no. NO! I could not betray the God who had so blessed me. I could not deny what he had done. I could not bring this holy baby into the world under a lie!

Even if it meant losing my fiancé.

I lifted my head and looked him in the eye. “I just told you what happened.”

Joseph took his hands down and turned away from me. My face suddenly felt cold. He stood with his back to me, his strong hands clasped behind him. “Is that your final answer?”

“Yes.” I could hardly get the word out.

He nodded, and his voice turned formal, but he couldn’t hide from me the shaking underneath. “I’ll keep my promise, Mary. I could never hate you. But I can’t marry someone who will betray me and then lie to me.”

I stood staring at the ground. “I understand.”

He hesitated, said, “I’m sorry,” and then he was gone.

I don’t know how long I stood there. All I know is that by the time I turned around to walk back home, the sun had fallen behind the hills.

God, why?? Why must the greatest miracle the world has ever known cost me so much? Before all this happened, it was like Joseph was my own personal miracle. I didn’t ask for anything more. Why did you give me Joseph only to take him away? He was the best thing in my life, and now I feel like a piece of my heart has been ripped out. Are you really going to leave me to raise your son alone, as a single mother? God? I trusted you, and I stayed true to you, and this is how you repay me?

Matthew 10:38-39

Diary of a Pregnant Virgin #7

2010-12-09T07:53:00.000-08:00

Dear Diary,

I couldn’t wait any longer. It wouldn’t be long before Mom suspected something was up, and I’d much rather tell her than let her draw her own conclusions.

Yesterday we were in the kitchen together, and I guess I was smiling and humming as we chopped vegetables. I could hardly help it; I’ve been in such a good mood ever since what happened in the field last week. It’s as if I see God everywhere I look, and I’m so aware of him all the time. I still can’t believe what’s happening to me—that God reached down from heaven and touched me! It’s like David wrote: “When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him, and the son of man that you care for him?”

Anyway, Mom saw me randomly smiling at the carrots and she started teasing me, “Can’t you even make dinner without daydreaming about that fiancé of yours?” I laughed, but I had to admit to myself that I hadn’t even been thinking about Joseph right then. Then I started thinking, It’s not fair that I don’t tell her about this. She’s my mother, she deserves to know. But—what if she doesn’t believe me? I’m going to look like the most wacked-out liar… God, help me. Let her trust me. She’s my mom, I can’t bear for her to condemn me.

I felt again the echo of what God had told me in the field, Don’t be afraid, for I am with you. I took a deep breath and said, “Actually, there’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.”

Mom looked sideways at me, still chopping. “Oh?”

“Yeah… I was working in the garden last month… and I saw something.”

“Like an animal?”

“No… more like an angel.”

I gave that one a moment. Mom’s hands hesitated on the knife, but she asked casually, “And what did the angel say?”

“He said that God was pleased with me and I will bear a son.”

Long pause. Chop, chop, chop. Finally Mom said, “Well, God willing, maybe you will someday—”

“I’m pregnant now, Mom.”

Oops. I’d planned to ease into that a little more.

Mom stopped chopping and turned to look at me. Her eyes were the biggest I’d ever seen them.

“You’re pregnant.”

“It’s not what you think, Mom, I didn’t—”

“You’re pregnant?!”

“Yes, but I didn’t do anything!”

“What do you mean, you didn’t do anything? You went and got yourself pregnant, Mary, what were you thinking? You’re an engaged woman, you couldn’t wait a few more months? Does Joseph know?”

“No—”

“Your father’s going to kill him.”

A shock of fear bolted through me. “It’s not Joseph’s fault, I swear!”

Mom hissed something under her breath. I was terrified to think what it was. “Then who—”

“Nobody!”

“Mary, you have to tell us—”

“I told you, I didn’t do anything!”

I stood there trembling, clenching the knife to keep my hands from shaking. Mom stood in front of me, her neck and lips tight as a bowstring.

I sighed and put one hand protectively over my stomach. “The angel said my son would be the King of Israel. I’m supposed to name him Jesus. The power of God came over me; I don’t even know how it happened, but Mom, my baby is the son of… of God.”

There it was. I’d said it. Now not only would I be stoned for adultery, but I would also be dragged before the priest for blasphemy, or shipped off to a mental hospital. Or all three.

Even as I imagined that future, though, I couldn’t be scared. As I told my Mom what the angel had told me, I realized that I really, really do believe it. God has his hand on me. He has chosen me. The baby inside me, this boy that I will name Jesus, will be the salvation of Israel. God won’t let anything happen to him, or to me. He is God’s appointed Messiah. God’s own son.

Mom just stared at me. I couldn’t tell what she was thinking. I realized that nothing in Mom School had ever prepared her for this.

So she just turned back to the vegetables—chop, chop, chop—and said, “We’ll see what your father has to say.” I noticed that her hands were shaking.

Mine weren’t anymore.

Psalm 8:3-4
Matthew 10:32-37

Diary of a Pregnant Virgin #6

2010-12-07T07:28:00.000-08:00

Dear Diary,

The angel said that my son will be a great king. That’s got to mean the Messiah. I’ve heard the prophecies a million times. He will be a descendant of King David, just like the angel told me. That makes sense; my dad always said our family is descended from King David. The Messiah will rule the world and make all people fear God. We have been waiting for him for centuries upon centuries.

What would it mean for me to be the mother of a great king? Will I have a special position in his court? Will he be too busy saving the world to spend time with me? I will have to leave Nazareth, of course. There’s no room for a palace around here. I wonder if he’ll be embarrassed to come from such a humble family? When the newspapers interview him and ask about his background, I wonder if he’ll be ashamed to say his mother was a poor girl from Nazareth, and that his whole birth was a total scandal?

It boggles my mind to imagine it, my son as a great king. I don’t know the first thing about royalty. I know even less about this kind of royalty, the kind sent from God to rescue Israel and set up a kingdom that will never end!

We’re in all new territory now. I guess all I can do is trust one day at a time. This baby inside me and his whole life are in God’s hands.

Isaiah 11:1-10
Daniel 7:13-14

Diary of a Pregnant Virgin #5

2010-12-05T06:00:00.000-08:00

Dear Diary,

God met me again today. Twice in one lifetime… this is more than I ever dreamed. I feel like I’m living in the Scriptures.

I was out in the field just taking a walk, and when I was sure that no one was looking, I started rubbing my hand on my stomach. I know it’s way too early to feel anything yet, but just the thought that there was a tiny life growing inside me brought butterflies. Then when I imagined who this baby is, the Messiah, the son of God, Immanuel, the prophesied king of Israel, I started having a royal freak-out session. I sat in the dirt hugging my knees and hyperventilating, just shaking all over. All I could do was rock, cry, gasp—and pray. I prayed harder than I ever thought I could. I begged God to help me. I begged him to let my family understand. I begged him to tell me why. I almost begged him to just take this away. I cried out to him like David not to leave me alone in this—to help me have faith.

And then something happened. It came like a warm breeze, caressing my shoulders and wrapping around my body. It was peace, comfort, and so much love, more love than I had ever felt in my life. I felt held and protected. I felt like the hand of God was holding me, like his arms were wrapped around me and his voice was whispering in my ear. All the promises of Scripture I had ever learned came flooding back into my mind. It was as if he were saying to me personally, “For I know the plans I have for you, plans for peace and not for evil, plans to bring you a hope and a future. Don’t be afraid, for I am with you. Don’t be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”

Slowly I felt the trembling melt away. Instead of fear I felt only peace and trust. Faith. Assurance. I still don’t know why on earth God chose me, and I still have no idea what’s going to happen. I have no more answers than before, but now I know that I am not alone. Whatever happens, my God will be with me. He promised to be.

And that makes all the difference in the world.

Jeremiah 29:11
Isaiah 41:10

Diary of a Pregnant Virgin #4

2010-12-04T11:41:00.001-08:00

Dear Diary,

I found a verse in Isaiah that I think is talking about me. Now there’s a crazy thought. Hundreds of years ago, God’s prophet was telling Israel about me.

“But the LORD will still give you proof. A virgin is pregnant; she will have a son and will name him Immanuel.”

Immanuel – I looked it up and apparently it means “God with us.” Wow. I’ve always seen God as pretty distant. I mean, I know he loves his people and hears our prayers, but he’s… God. In heaven, far away. Or in the temple, in Jerusalem. And we’re just lowly humans. We’re not even allowed to speak his true name. If God could be really with us... I mean really really really WITH us... that would be something new altogether.

Why me? Why out of all the girls in Israel did God choose me to carry his chosen one? What did I ever do to deserve this?

I still haven’t told anyone yet. I don’t know when or how. I’ll have to sooner or later. Gulp.

God, help me.

Isaiah 7:14

Diary of a Pregnant Virgin #3

2010-12-02T06:00:00.000-08:00

Dear Diary,

Needless to say, I’m thrilled and honored that God chose me for this, but there are two things that are worrying me. One is… I’m fourteen. I’m pregnant. And I only just got engaged.

Anna down the street got pregnant last year. She was hardly older than me, and definitely not married. Everyone whispered for days, and then… she disappeared. I haven’t seen her since. Some people say they stoned her to death.

I can kind of understand that, actually. It is in God’s law. God told Moses that if an engaged woman is caught having sex outside of marriage, “Take them both to the town gate and stone them to death. You must get rid of the evil they brought into your community.”

That isn’t exactly what happened to me, of course, but when my belly starts showing, what are they supposed to think? I notice that nowhere does it say, “unless the woman got pregnant without having sex.” Yeah, that would have been helpful.

Listen to me. My life is hanging in the balance—not to mention the whole future of the world—and here I am making jokes. It’s a miracle I’m still holding it together at all.

Then there’s the other thing. I’m engaged to a wonderful man who loves me like I’ve always wanted to be loved. I love him too, with all my heart and soul. If I tell him about this, it will break his heart. When I accepted that ring, it was as if I was marrying him already. I made a promise. I said that I would be only his till death do us part. He believed me. What will he think when he finds out? He’ll think I lied, that I was just playing with his feelings. He’ll think I never loved him as much as he loves me. He’ll think the whole time we’ve been together was just a big lie.

It will crush him.

People have killed themselves over less.

But it’s not like that. I do love him. I meant all the things I said. I have never lied to him once, not once. He gave me his heart, and now I’m about to break it. But what else can I do?

God, I hope it’s not selfish for me to pray for myself when you’re busy arranging the salvation of Israel here. But please, let Joseph understand. Let him still love me. And please, don’t let my parents stone me to death. Remember your promises to Israel. Help me to stay faithful to you no matter what happens. Amen.

Deuteronomy 22:23-24

Diary of a Pregnant Virgin #2

2010-11-30T06:00:00.000-08:00

Dear Diary,

I don’t even know how to start. Two months ago when Joseph proposed, I thought I could never get happier. I was wrong. Something incredible has happened, and I hardly know how to handle it.

Today when I was out in the garden doing my chores, I saw an angel. I mean I really saw a REAL angel. He was huge and fierce and shone with the brightest light I have ever seen. It reminded me of the angel with a “face like lightening” in the book of Daniel. I was terrified. I thought my life was over, but then he said the last thing in the world I expected to hear. He said, “You are truly blessed! The Lord is with you.” I had no idea what he was talking about. I wondered if I was dreaming.

Then it got even weirder. The angel said, “Don't be afraid! God is pleased with you, and you will have a son. His name will be Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of God Most High. The Lord God will make him king, as his ancestor David was. He will rule the people of Israel forever, and his kingdom will never end.”

I was still confused, but it sounded like he was talking about the Messiah. I’ve heard all my life that someday God will send a great king to set everything right in the world.

Then I thought, “Did he say a son? I may be only fourteen, but I know a few things, and I know for a fact that there’s no way I could be pregnant right now.” So I asked the angel how that could be possible. His reply blew my mind.

“The Holy Spirit will come down to you, and God's power will come over you. So your child will be called the holy Son of God.”

Wow. So I’m going to get pregnant… by God. The baby will be his son. My baby will be God’s son.

Then the angel also told me that Elizabeth is pregnant too. That’s truly a miracle, because Elizabeth is my cousin, but she could be my grandma. She gave up on having kids years and years ago. And now, she’s going to have a baby in three months.

I said, “I am the Lord's servant! Let it happen as you have said.” I was completely overwhelmed, but agreeing and submitting seemed like the only smart thing to do. This is GOD we’re talking about.

Excited, terrified, awed, confused… I don’t even know what I’m feeling now. I’ll write more later when I’ve had more time to think.

Daniel 10:5-6
Luke 1:26-38

Diary of a Pregnant Virgin #1

2010-11-28T10:13:00.000-08:00

Dear Diary,

I’m engaged! I’m only fourteen and I’m engaged! I can hardly believe it. Dad has finally given his permission for Joseph to marry me. I’ve imagined this moment for so long, and now that it’s here… I hardly know how to describe it. I feel like just sitting and looking at the ring one minute, and turning cartwheels the next.

So here’s how it happened. This morning, I was just finishing washing the dishes when Joseph somehow snuck in behind me and put his arm around my waist. He gave up knocking at the front door months ago. He asked me how long it would take me to get ready, and I asked him ready for what. He just winked and said it was a surprise. (Tee-hee, I love it when he winks at me! I get butterflies every single time.) I had to remember to tell him I couldn’t be gone long because I had chores to do. He said that he’d already cleared it with my mom and she’d given him permission to steal me for a few hours.

By this time I was definitely curious and excited, so I told him to give me five minutes, and I ran upstairs to brush my hair and change my dress. I know, I know—the other one was fine, but I wanted to feel a bit prettier than normal today. It was closer to ten minutes before I was back downstairs. I couldn’t decide how I wanted to do my hair. I ended up just twisting it back on one side a little bit.

Joseph took me on a long walk up a hill around to our favorite spot, overlooking the valley. You can see for miles, and at night you can see every single star. There was a picnic basket waiting for us under a tree.

I can honestly say it was the most perfect afternoon ever. We ate sandwiches and talked and lay in the shade looking up at the sunlight through the leaves. After a while I was leaning against the tree trying to count the sheep in the valley. That was when Joseph looked at me with a strange kind of expression, very serious and a little nervous. I remember being about to ask if it was almost time to be heading back…

Then he got down on one knee and my heart began to pound.

He took my left hand in his and said, “Mary, you are the most incredible girl I have ever met. You’re beautiful, and thoughtful, and whimsical, and so kind and wonderful that I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you, but God has given me one whole blessed year to call you my beloved, and—I hope it’s not selfish to say that I never want that to end. I love you, Mary. I hope you already know that, but I need to say it again. I love you, and I want you to be mine for all of forever.”

I could hardly believe what I was hearing. I was smiling like an idiot and trying not to cry and squeezing his hand and not wanting to interrupt but at the same time just wanting to throw my arms around his neck.

Finally, he said it. “Mary… will you marry me?”

And then I did throw my arms around him. And I did squeal and sob all at once and say “yes, yes, I love you, I love you,” over and over.

He slipped a ring on my finger, and it just looked so right, like my hand was made for it. I was made to wear this ring and hold his hand in mine.

Somehow we got home and my parents were already in on the secret, so we celebrated and my mom cried and my dad made a beautiful toast, but I don’t remember any of it. The only thing I remember is wrapping my arm through Joseph’s and thinking that I would never have to let go.

This is the happiest day of my life. I love him so much. Let the happily ever after begin!

New Series! Diary of a Pregnant Virgin

2010-11-28T09:45:00.000-08:00

Fourteen,

pregnant,

and a virgin...

Greetings, sisters! To usher in this Christmas season, we will be starting a new series that has been on my heart for over two years now, called "Diary of a Pregnant Virgin." It is the story of the most unlikely teen pregnancy in history, and the remarkable struggle of one girl to make sense of her situation and trust God in the middle of what seems to be both a blessing and a curse.

New diary entries will be posted four or five times a week leading up to December 25. Go to our Facebook page to read a sneak preview!

Favorite One

2010-09-15T21:04:00.001-07:00

Favorite.

The word brings quite a string of things to mind, doesn’t it? You probably have a favorite movie, favorite candy, favorite store, favorite class, favorite pair of jeans. How about “raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens”? And we can’t forget that schnitzel with noodles!

What about people? Do you have a favorite teacher, favorite friend, favorite family member?

Wait…that’s a little awkward…

Yep, it is. But here’s another question: are you somebody’s favorite?

Are you God’s favorite?

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on. God doesn’t play favorites. By calling one person a favorite you are implying that you like somebody else less, that you even love somebody else a little less. Ouch. Romans 2:11 says that “God shows no partiality.” Doesn’t he love the whole world equally?

Well, yes, and that’s the incredible part. Think about it for a sec. God is infinite, and so is his love. If infinity was chopped up into six billion individual pieces, each piece would still be…infinity. I can be God’s favorite one, and so can you. God can give me all of his love, and you all of his love, and neither of us is missing out. Think of it this way: you are second place to no one in God’s heart. He doesn’t love Billy Graham, or the pastor’s daughter, or Britt Nicole, or missionaries to China any more than he loves you.

Now that’s an amazing truth.

I looked up the dictionary definition of “favorite,” and was absolutely blown away and delighted by what I found:

fa•vor•ite
noun
\ˈfā-v(ə-)rət, ˈfā-vərt, chiefly dialect ˈfā-və-ˌrīt\
one that is treated or regarded with special favor or liking; especially : a person who is specially loved, trusted, or provided with favors by someone of high rank or authority
(http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/favorite)

Special favor or liking…check…by someone of high rank or authority…check. There you have it, girl. You are specially loved by the King of Creation—even Webster agrees that makes you a favorite.

Sometimes we may feel a bit hesitant to accept such an extreme love. It doesn’t feel right somehow. But God’s Word—his love letter to us—couldn’t be more clear. Just read Song of Songs, and picture Jesus whispering those words to your heart.

Arise, my love, my beautiful one,
and come away…
Behold, you are beautiful, my love,
behold, you are beautiful!
You eyes are doves behind your veil…
You have captivated my heart, my sister, my bride;
you have captivated my heart with one glance of your eyes,
with one jewel of your necklace.
How beautiful is your love, my sister, my bride!
How much better is your love than wine…
Turn away your eyes from me,
for they overwhelm me…
My dove, my perfect one.
--Song of Songs, ESV

This is your king’s love song to you, telling you over and over in a thousand ways that he cherishes you. You are his treasure and the apple of his eye and the delight of his heart. You make his heart beat faster; one whispered “I love you” from your lips and he absolutely melts. You are constantly on his mind and forever engraved on his heart—you, my sister, are the magnificent obsession of God.

His favorite one.

Invisible Princess No More

2010-09-01T17:37:00.001-07:00

I love The Princess Diaries (the movie, not the book, surprisingly enough). I love imagining what it would be like to be Mia, the awkward and slightly dorky (well, maybe more than slightly) fifteen-year-old who’s “still waiting for normal body parts to arrive,” and then all in one day finds out her grandmother is a queen, her father was a prince—and she is a princess.

“Me? A princess? Shut up!”

(Mia’s wonderful “shut up” face. Best moment of the movie.)

I’d be shocked too. But it gets weirder. (Watch the entire scene here—start at 3:05.)

QUEEN CLARISSE: Since your father died, you are the natural heir to the throne of Genovia. That's our law. I'm royal by marriage. You are royal by blood. You can rule.
MIA: Rule? Oh, no. Oh, no. No, no, no. Now you have really got the wrong girl. I never lead anybody—not at Brownies, not at Campfire Girls—Queen Clarisse, my expectation in life is to be invisible, and I’m good at it.

A princess from birth, born to rule, ignorant of her destiny. So she instead lives her life hiding from the world—invisible.

I don’t know about you, but that sounds pretty familiar to me.

I, too, am a princess. I am royalty. As a daughter of the King of the Universe, I have been given authority and destiny. I can be a world changer. All of us who have been made royal by God’s own blood can truly be shapers of history.

If we want to be.

The thing is, far too often we’d rather just be invisible. Blend in, play the games, be popular (or just left alone), generally be normal, but never, ever do anything to truly stand out. Even in our churches and youth groups. We become “normal” Christians…we love Jesus, we read our Bibles, we sing the songs, we drop money in the plate…but we don’t really stand up and act like we know we’re royalty.

Well, ladies, it’s about time for “normal” to be over.

Romans 8:16-17 ESV "The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs—heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him."

We are heirs of God—fellow heirs with Christ himself! Glory is our birthright.

Normal is not. You pretty much gave up all right to a normal life when you came into the Kingdom. Did you notice the reference to suffering in the verse above? Yeah. Most people who suffer don’t suffer because they’re content to play it safe and just blend in. They suffer because they stand out and do something different—but glory is the result. That’s a promise.

So, what does it mean to act like royalty? Well, there’s a lot, but here’s a few to chew on:

You’re not normal. (I think we’ve been over this already.) So don’t act normal. Since you are a princess of the Kingdom of God, your priorities should be higher than this world. Don’t lower yourself to their standards. Keep your focus on the King and his kingdom.

You have authority. You have the power to bring light into darkness. God listens when you pray, and he moves at the sound of your voice. Partner with him to make a real difference in the world around you.

You are a representative of the King. Not just as a servant, but as a family member, as royalty yourself. Show those around you who the King is and what he’s about. Live love loud.

You’re a princess, for goodness sake! You are beautiful, you are loved, and you are strong. Your worth is not defined by those around you. It’s defined by the God who made you and calls you his own. Don’t ever forget that.

One more thing: Like Mia, you are destined to lead. Invisibility is no longer an option. All it takes is for one person to stand up first, and others will follow. Don’t be afraid to speak up, to do something never done before! You’ve got the King of Creation—your Daddy—at your back. Stand proudly, speak boldly, love extravagantly, and live the life of the Kingdom you were born into.

Wake up, child

It’s your turn to shine

You were born for such a time as this

I am royalty

I have destiny

I have been set free

I’m going to shape history

--“The Anthem” by Jake Hamilton, songwriter and worship leader

(listen on youtube here)

Aaaand We're Back!

2010-09-01T17:14:00.000-07:00

Hey, guys! First off, a heartfelt apology that I haven't posted in THREE WHOLE MONTHS!!! I spent the summer working at a Christian camp in the mountains, and although I had internet access, I was never able to get on one of the staff computers long enough to post a blog. So I am so vewy vewy sowwy I left y'all hanging.

The summer was loverly, however. :) I worked in the malt shop serving the weekly crowds of multiple youth groups who would come up to camp, and I also led teams and games out on the rec field. I got so close to so many of my fellow staffers, and better yet, I got closer to God when I would escape into the woods to my favorite place with a view, or to the 50+-year-old prayer chapel with its wooden pews and musty carpet and sacred feel in the air. I learned a lot this summer about community, communion, and being used by God wherever I am in simple unexpected ways. :)

Furthermore, I have one final announcement: kindly conduct your eyes to the upper right side of this page, where you should see half of a youtube screen with the title "Our Videos & Music." Scroll over so you can see the whole thing. Ah, there it is. This is a playlist of all the videos and music I have referenced in the blogs, plus a few more that fit so well with the purpose of A Beauty Glorious that they just needed to be shared. (Let me know if I left anything out, or if there's something else you think should be added.) This replaces our old music player, which was frankly troublesome and unreliable. Youtube is my savior. ;) Take some time to enjoy them and be blessed.

There you have it! If all goes according to plan, expect a new blog up every two weeks. If you have ideas for a blog, or something you found or created that you'd like to share, shoot me an email! abeautyglorious@gmail.com This was always meant to be a community, not just me on my soapbox all the time. ;)

Grace and peace, my sisters!

Caitlyn

The Greatest Weapon

2010-06-04T14:28:00.000-07:00

One of my longtime favorite books is A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle. It is the story of a brother and sister who go on a journey through space to the planet Camazotz, where Charles’ Wallace, Meg’s little brother, gets trapped inside the brainwashing powers of IT. When Meg goes back to rescue him, she is armed only with the prophecy that she has something IT does not, and it will be her only weapon. That final confrontation has stayed with me for years:

“Nonsense,” Charles Wallace said. “You have nothing that it doesn’t have.”

“You’re lying,” she replied, and she felt only anger toward this boy who was not Charles Wallace at all. No, it was not anger, it was loathing; it was hatred, sheer and unadulterated, and as she became lost in hatred she also began to be lost in IT…

With the last vestige of consciousness she jerked her mind and body. Hate was nothing that IT didn’t have. IT knew all about hate…

Suddenly she knew.

She knew!

Love.

That was what she had that IT did not have…

She could stand there and she could love Charles Wallace.

Love??

To be honest, I thought it was a bit lame the first time I read it, sort of a cheap way out for the writer. Trite. Cliché. How can standing there saying, “I love you, I love you,” be any sort of weapon?

But the more I think and read and listen, the more I have come to the conclusion that it has to be true. It just has to be. I’ve seen it. Truth spoken in love can shatter lies and soften hearts. Loving encouragement can be just the thing to motivate someone to be all they were meant to be. Love can reach in and rescue when nothing else can.

Why is this? Perhaps, it’s because it’s unexpected. It’s not a weapon that destroys, but rather one that heals. And by doing so it destroys the disease.

Most of us are familiar with 1 Corinthians 13, where Paul writes that “love never fails” and that “faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.” Romans 12:20-21 even goes so far as to say, “If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink; for by so doing you will heap burning coals on his head. Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.” It looks to me like love may be the most radical weapon we have.

Meg was right. Evil knows all about hate, but it cannot touch love. Love is our privilege and power. Since we alone are made in the image of God, only we have been given the gift of love.

If you want to make a difference in the world, try this: live love. Speak truth boldly, attack injustice fiercely, but in the end just radiate love. If you see those around you the way God does, and treat them as though they are worth his blood, you will leave evil without a leg to stand on. Satan cannot fight love; it disarms him completely. Seek out the darkest places, the blackest lies and heaviest chains, and then just stand there and offer love with everything you have.

I love you. Charles Wallace, you are my darling and my dear and the light of my life and the treasure of my heart. I love you. I love you. I love you.

Slowly his mouth closed. Slowly his eyes stopped their twirling. The tic in his forehead ceased its revolting twitch. Slowly he advanced toward her.

“I love you!” she cried. “I love you, Charles! I love you!”

Then suddenly he was running, pelting, he was in her arms, he was shrieking with sobs. “Meg! Meg! Meg!”

“I love you, Charles!” she cried again, her sobs almost as loud as his, her tears mingling with his. “I love you! I love you! I love you!”

And then watch the miracle happen…because the greatest of these is love.

I See You

2010-05-20T13:01:00.000-07:00

Last week I finally watched Avatar. I didn’t get to see it in the theater, but even in my living room it was a beautiful movie. The lights and colors of the forest were stunning. The floating mountains draped with vines, the enormous emerald leaves, the lizards that looked like fluorescent water lilies when they flew… It made me think that’s what Eden must have felt like.

After the credits rolled, there was one line that kept rolling around in my head, when Norm was teaching Jake about the Na’vi culture.

JAKE: (practicing) I see you. I see you.
NORM: But it’s not just “I’m seeing you in front of me.” It’s, “I see into you. I See you. I’m accepting you. I understand you.”

I See you.

How often do we really See the people around us? I’m sure you know what it feels like when you’re having a bad day and all you want is for someone to look you in the eyes and ask if you’re doing okay, but then life moves on and no one does. No one seems to really stop and acknowledge you as a person.

After all, isn’t this what we really want? Of course everyone wants to be loved, but a general warm fuzzy isn’t enough. We long to be Seen…to be Known. Intimately. We want to be accepted and understood. And we go through so much of our lives feeling like we’re missing it.

It’s so easy to transfer that feeling to God, as well. Of course he knows everything—he’s God, after all—but does he See me? Is this prayer really heard, or is it more like a message in a bottle, thrown out into the ocean?

Are his eyes really on me?

Grab the nearest Bible (or just go to www.biblegateway.com) and check out Genesis chapter 16. Don’t worry, it’s short. I’ll wait for you.

Now go back to verse 13.

Genesis 16:13 – Hagar thought, “Have I really seen God and lived to tell about it?” So from then on she called him, “The God Who Sees Me.”

The God who Sees me.

This really hit home for me a few months ago. I remember coming home after a powerful encounter with God. He hadn’t answered all of my questions in the way I wanted him to, but he had shown me beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was with me. That night, I wrote a poem/song that went: “I don’t have to know anything, but that you know me. I don’t have to see anything, but that you see me…” I still don’t have all the answers, but I know that I am Seen by the one who made me. And honestly, that’s enough.

I promise you, my sisters, that there is nothing in the world like knowing that God Sees you. His eyes are always on you, and you’re never in his peripheral vision. He hears every word before you speak it. He knows every thought before you think it. He feels every movement of your heart as if it were his own.

He knows your deepest dreams and your deepest pains. Every hurt matters to him. He hold you so close, close to his heartbeat. He has the answer for every question you’ve ever asked. No matter how many times you feel lost, he will always be there to rescue you again.

He understands you. He knows you. He Sees you.

Psalm 139:1-16 CEV
(1) (A psalm by David for the music leader.) You have looked deep into my heart, LORD, and you know all about me.
(2) You know when I am resting or when I am working, and from heaven you discover my thoughts.
(3) You notice everything I do and everywhere I go.
(4) Before I even speak a word, you know what I will say,
(5) and with your powerful arm you protect me from every side.
(6) I can't understand all of this! Such wonderful knowledge is far above me.
(7) Where could I go to escape from your Spirit or from your sight?
(8) If I were to climb up to the highest heavens, you would be there. If I were to dig down to the world of the dead you would also be there.
(9) Suppose I had wings like the dawning day and flew across the ocean.
(10) Even then your powerful arm would guide and protect me.
(11) Or suppose I said, "I'll hide in the dark until night comes to cover me over."
(12) But you see in the dark because daylight and dark are all the same to you.
(13) You are the one who put me together inside my mother's body,
(14) and I praise you because of the wonderful way you created me. Everything you do is marvelous! Of this I have no doubt.
(15) Nothing about me is hidden from you! I was secretly woven together deep in the earth below,
(16) but with your own eyes you saw my body being formed. Even before I was born, you had written in your book everything I would do.

Flawless Beauty

2010-04-28T18:57:00.000-07:00

“Shed thirty pounds in just thirty days!”

“Luscious lips with color that lasts.”

“Extend, enhance, and beautify those lashes!”

“It’s so easy—perfect curls every time!”

“The perfect foundation for smooth, flawless skin.”

We’ve seen it, we’ve heard it, we’ve probably even bought the products. The right mascara to magically extend and thicken your eyelashes. The right lotion to smooth and soften your skin. The right hairspray to give you full, bouncy tresses. And countless procedures and miracle diets to make you that ideal 110 pounds, all so you can look just like the dazzling girl in the commercial with perfect skin, perfect teeth, perfect hair, and of course, perfect weight.

The Dove Corporation—yes, the cosmetics company—has put together a video that offers an inside look at what might go into creating such an advertisement.

Thinner, smoother, softer, tanner, longer, brighter, bigger… The advertising industry is making a fortune by convincing us that we aren’t something enough. And we believe them, detest all mirrors and cameras, and go buy everything on the shelves, only to start the cycle over again. This notion of "flawless beauty" is killing us.

And the crazy part is—most of what they're presenting is a lie. No one can possibly be that perfect, not even the supermodels. I bet you a pound-sized dark chocolate bar that if you could ask those models what they wish they could change about their appearance, they would be able to tell you a whole list of things right off the tops of their heads.

We live in a world that hypes up plastic beauty. And somewhere along the way, in between the Barbies and the magazines and the TV shows, we’ve forgotten what it means to be truly beautiful.

The truth is, genuine beauty comes from within. I know, I know, it’s cliché, but it’s God’s honest truth. When you carry yourself with a confidence that says you respect yourself and others, when you live life with love and joy, you can’t help but be beautiful. It’s a beauty that isn’t painted or photoshopped or dieted into you, but a radiant, glorious beauty that explodes from the inside out.

I can hear you now: “I know all that, Caitlyn, I’ve known it all my life! But it doesn’t exactly help when I see Tyra Banks in all the magazines, and then I look in the mirror and all I see is what’s wrong: wrong hair, wrong clothes, wrong skin, wrong teeth, wrong everything!”

I get it. Trust me, I do. I’ve been there thousands of times. It’s the curse of being a female in the modern-day Western world. Heck, it might be the curse of being female, period. Even when we know that we should be focusing on inner beauty, still we crave after this flawless magazine image. Still we think that we don’t measure up.

Can I share something with you that absolutely blew my mind?

Song of Songs 4:7 “You are altogether beautiful, my love; there is no flaw in you.”

Wait a minute.

Back up. Read that again.

“You are altogether beautiful, my love; there is no flaw in you.”

Wow.

The God of the universe, the God who created me, the God whose opinion is the only thing that matters…says that I am flawless. He doesn’t see any of the things I wish I could change about myself. He sees only perfect beauty.

Don’t believe me? Can you imagine God looking at you and shaking his head, saying, “Well, I tried, but I guess I ran out of Pretty n’ Perfect Powder that day. I must have used it all on Tyra. It’s really too bad about that face.”

NO! God looks at you and says, “Look at her! That one right there, look at her! She is perfect! Perfect! She makes my heart beat faster. Breathtaking, stunning, captivating… Beautiful. Flawlessly beautiful.”

Barbie’s got nothing on you, sistah. The King of the universe has called you beautiful. And it has nothing to do with makeup or skin care or fashion sense. It has to do with you. Because he made you in his image and he loves you exactly the way you are.

Flawless.

The Heart of a Worshiper

2010-03-23T23:52:00.000-07:00

I don't know about you, but I recognize this. This is for that moment when the world fades away and suddenly only one thing is important... suddenly, it doesn't matter where you are, because it's like you're not even there... heaven is invading earth, and all that matters is worshiping him.

Pour it out.

Winner of the Epic Giveaway!

2010-03-17T17:27:00.000-07:00

Hey guys, thanks to those of you who entered to win a copy of Epic by John Eldredge! It really is one of my favorite books and I hope everyone can snag a copy at a bookstore or library and give it a read.

I drew a winner from our pool and the proud new owner of Epic is...Leanna!

Leanna, I'll be emailing you for your address so I can send you that book ASAP. :) Love you, sister.

We'll be doing more giveaways in the future, so keep checking back!

--Caitlyn

Be Still

2010-03-17T16:52:00.000-07:00

In the interest of full disclosure, I need to tell you that I’m writing this in the middle of a noisy school cafeteria with about thirty things on my mind. I was up late at a meeting, then I had to finish a paper, so I only got about four hours of sleep before I was flying out the door to catch my carpool to school. Sometime really soon, I need to go by the missions office to check on some fundraising, write two skits for my Mexico trip,
Be still…
write a few more scenes of my A Little Princess adaptation, prepare to lead a small group, study my script for the scene I need to rehearse tonight, email my trip leader some info he wanted, read a ridiculously dense chapter of Theory/Theatre and write a response to it,
Be still…
and probably read a few more chapters that I am forgetting about. And this is an easy day. Just wait another month or two till finals hit, and I will be inches away from an epic death by homework…
Be still…
Oh, hello. Were you trying to say something, God? I’m sorry, could you speak up? I’m in the middle of texting, and I have to write this blog, and I have my music on, and I’m worried about this other thing…
Be still and know that I am God.
…
…
…
Now there’s an idea.

So often in the middle of my craziness I forget to take that time to just chill out with God. Even when I do spend time with him I sometimes feel like I have to get something done. I need to read a couple Bible chapters, I need to pray for a huge list of people, I need to pray for my campus and my church and my city and my nation…

BE STILL AND KNOW THAT I AM GOD.

Oh. Yeah.

Sometimes, that’s enough. Sometimes, there comes a point where the world can wait and GOD, and only God, deserves my focus. Homework needs to get done. Bible study and intercession are both excellent uses of time. But sometimes…

Breathe. Wait. Listen. Relax and let it go for a while.

Take some time to just be with Me.

It’s enough to just lay down, close my eyes, and remember…

Yes. You are God. You are God. Thank you. I love you.

I love you, too.

Psalm 46:10 “Be still, and know that I am God.”

Sapphira Adi: Twilight and the Bible

2010-03-10T15:03:00.001-08:00

I'm not ashamed to admit: I love the Twilight saga. The books, not necessarily the movies. (I haven't even seen New Moon yet.) I wrote in my last blog about how our stories reflect God's Great Story, and I think there's a lot in Stephanie Meyer's vampire romance series that echoes our relationship with God.

My dear friend Sapphira Adi has pulled out a few of these ideas in her blog. I hope you find it as enlightening as I did! http://www.elyonscircle.com/blogs/SapphiraAdi/?p=968

Epic Giveaway -- Literally

2010-03-04T19:20:00.000-08:00

I’m not gonna lie: all of the ideas in my most recent blog were inspired by John Eldredge’s book Epic: The Story God is Telling. It’s a small book and a really quick read, but it’s been one of the most inspirational books I’ve ever read. I’d love to give you a copy! Leave a comment telling me your favorite book or movie, and if you want you can also tell me how you see the Great Story reflected in it. (You’ll also need to leave me your email address so I can get a hold of you.) I’ll randomly choose one of these comments to win a copy of Epic. Sound good?

Yay, our first giveaway, I’m excited! I’m actually hoping to do more giveaways in the future. I have some pretty exciting ideas, but if you have an idea of a book/movie/cd or something else that you’d like to win, leave that in your comment too, or you can email me at abeautyglorious@gmail.com. That will also give you another entry into the Epic giveaway.

I’ll announce the winner with my regular Wednesday blog in two weeks, so you have until Tuesday, March 16.

Sweet! Thanks, ladies, have an amazing day! :)

Caitlyn

Tell Me The Story

2010-03-04T18:08:00.000-08:00

Confession: I love to read. I will read anything that engages my mind and my heart…thrillers, mysteries, fantasies, romance, the thicker the better. I’m one of those geeks who doesn’t have crushes on movie stars, but rather book characters—and this was way before Twilight came out. (Ladies, High King Peter is mine. Just saying. The one in the book, not any of the movies.)

However, even for those who would rather eat live scorpions than pick up a book, the lure of story is inescapable. We live in it. Characters, setting, action, conflict. Life is a story, and we interact with the world around us in terms of story. “Hi! How are you? How was your weekend?” “Fine” is not an acceptable answer. We want to know what happened. Story is one of the main languages of the human heart, maybe even the primary one.

When the story around us gets too boring or stressful, we escape into fictional stories, or perhaps historical ones. Whether through books or movies, fiction or nonfiction, we love a good tale. We love stories that help us make sense of our own lives, that promise us there is good in the world and remind us of what it means to be human.

Think about this for a minute. What stories do we love most? What movies are we drawn to, the ones we watch over and over and never get bored?

If you’ve ever taken a literature class, you may have seen a diagram that looks something like this:

This is the basic structure of a story. The exposition (or set-up), the crisis, the rising action, the climax, the falling action, the resolution. It’s pretty typical, really. Things are good, then something terrible happens, and the hero must go on a journey or some sort of mission to fix things. There is a great battle or moment of decision, and the fate of the world hangs in the balance. Finally, the battle is won, and things settle down into a new kind of good.

Does any of this sound familiar? Could it possibly be that our fiction isn’t so fictional after all, but is actually rooted in something deeper? Let’s take a look at another, much older Story for a minute.

Once upon eternity, there were Three, in joyous, peaceful unity. Life was perfection itself. Then—treachery, and a fierce war began. Armies clashed among the stars, until the Three did something the traitor did not expect. A new battlefield was named, a little blue ball hanging in space. It was untouched by the war, perfect in simplicity, joy, and freedom. It was the ideal target for the traitor, and he attacked with a vengeance. The little people the Three so longed to treasure and protect sold their world and their souls to the traitor. Beauty was spoiled by horror, and they became slaves and prisoners of evil itself. The war raged on.

The Three made plans for an ambush, a daring mission that the traitor would be unable to stop. The Three sent themselves down to the people’s world, in the form of One, to enter the battle personally and rescue the prisoners. The people were fascinated, but afraid and angry. They did not understand. The traitor used them to kill the One, and he celebrated his victory. Little did he know that it was that very death that would break the chains he had spent millennia forging. Triumphant, the One returned to life, and declared that anyone who would come with him would be free. Many did, but most had forgotten how to be free. The victory was won, but as long as the prisoners refused to claim their freedom, still the war raged on. It rages yet today.

It will be over one day. Someday, the Three will shatter all illusions and restore the bliss that was intended from the start. In the meantime, the rescued ones celebrate their freedom and join the Three in battle, pushing back the rebellion and waiting breathlessly for that final glorious day.

This is our Story.

Do you see it now? Do your hear in that great Story some of the things you love about your own favorite tales? Adventure. Danger. A hero and a villain. Rescue. Sacrifice. Homecoming. The list goes on.

The Story of the universe is retelling itself in our stories.

The Princess Bride. The Lord of the Rings. Beauty and the Beast. The Matrix. Star Wars. Even Twilight and Harry Potter. All contain threads of this Great Story. We love the books and movies we do because somewhere in our deepest soul, they remind us of the Story we were born to live.

And of course, the Story I just told above doesn’t even begin to talk about the Great Romance that runs through it all. The One calls the people his Bride, and he loves her so passionately that he would give anything to win her love, up to and including his own life. The dream of his heart is to be united to her in perfect bliss, free to love unhindered for all eternity.

Why are we drawn to stories? Because story is the language of the soul. Ecclesiastes 3:11 says that God “has set eternity in their heart.” We have an instinctive sense of this Great Story imprinted inside of us.

Keep that in mind the next time you watch your favorite movie or snuggle up with a good book. Where do you see echoes of our Story inside it? How do the stories you love illuminate the Great Story which you are now living?

Our New Community Home!

2010-02-24T12:44:00.000-08:00

Hello, my beautiful sisters! I would like to finally announce something that excites me greatly and I've been wanting to do for a long time now. Drum roll please...

We have a forum!

Yes, indeed! A Beauty Glorious now has an online message board community at www.abeautyglorious.proboards.com. While of course you're welcome to keep commenting on the blogs, the forum is the place for you to dive deeper in discussing these things with other girls from all over the world, to share ideas and experiences and learn from each other. Also, it's definitely the place to talk about random things and have fun and get to know each other. I've been part of a certain message board for almost four years now, and I can tell you that while we came together to talk about our favorite author, we have since talked about everything under the sun and have become an incredibly close knit family. :) It may be the internet, but you'd be amazed at how tight the community can be. That's what I'm hoping for this new forum.

I've set it up so that you can't see the board until you register an account. It will send a code to your email, and then you can use that code to confirm your account and get you inside to post on the board. This way, we'll have some privacy and can feel safer talking about whatever we want. To that same end, I'm asking that no guys join the forum. We love you, but this is sacred girl space. :) Please do keep commenting on the blog, though, we know you're interested too and we love to hear your thoughts!

So welcome to our next adventure! Come on in and let's get the party started! :D

Grace and peace,

Caitlyn

PS- As always, you can email abeautyglorious@gmail.com with any questions.

Infinitely More

2010-02-18T17:09:00.000-08:00

About a year ago, I went to a youth conference in Northern California. It was incredible and so many amazing things happened there, but one thing that really stuck with me was when one of the speakers talked about making a list. He said to make a list of one hundred dreams that you want to experience in your life, especially if they’re big dreams that sound impossible. I came home and started writing out my list, and discovered that it’s way harder than it sounds. I got up to seventy-four. These are a few of them:

• Spend a few months in England.
• Act in something magnificent and enduring.
• Go on a spontaneous trip (less than two days’ notice) involving an airplane and Jesus.
• Live a week in the past.
• See a dead person raised.
• Fly under my own power.
• Learn to Irish dance.
• Touch lives through my art.

I guess you noticed that some of these are pretty big. Fly under my own power? Really? I don’t mean a hang glider, I’m talking Peter Pan status here, ladies. I’m not going to be bitter if it doesn’t happen before I die, but I figure, if “with God all things are possible,” then I might as well put it on the list, right? Stranger things have happened.

That last one is really the most important to me on this mini-list. That’s why I write A Beauty Glorious. It’s a dream that I firmly believe God has placed inside of me, and I am so excited to see where he’s going to take it.

You know what really blows my mind, though? As crazy as some of the dreams of my heart are, God dreams much bigger. Ephesians 3:20 exclaims, “Glory belongs to God, whose power is at work in us. By this power he can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine.”

Every time I think of this verse, I think of Han Solo’s line in the original Star Wars movie: “I don’t know, I can imagine quite a bit.” Ha! As if Han or anyone could ever out-imagine GOD!! (He’s kind of infinite, and all that…)

John Eldredge put it this way: “I mean, really. We have dreamed better dreams than God can dream? We have written stories that have a better ending than God has provided? It cannot be.” (From his book Epic, which I very highly recommend and will probably blog about soon.)

God’s plans for you are far more amazing than you could ever plan on your own. I’ve discovered something that has completely revolutionized my perspective of life: Every time God takes something away, it’s so that he can give you something better. (Isaiah 60:7, 61:3) With this in mind, there’s never a need to get upset or afraid about any dream that seems to slip through your fingers. It only means that God’s got something even more amazing up his sleeve! And mark my words: it will be something you could never have imagined on your own.

My sister has a dream from God to build a well in Nigeria, to give a community clean drinking water. It's not going to be easy; there don't seem to be many organizations building wells in that part of Africa. Many people would say that a teen can't do something like that, but my sister knows that this a dream God gave her, and I believe she IS going to see it happen.

So don’t be afraid. There are no limits. Dream up a storm! But here’s the thing: don’t forget to dream with God. He gave you your passions, and he wants to use the dreams you carry in your heart. But he also wants to do things you’ve never before imagined. Adventure? Absolutely. When you’re dreaming with the original Dreamer, you never know where you’ll end up.

And keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times, because it’s going to be a wild ride! Guaranteed.

My Secret

2010-01-27T12:43:00.000-08:00

If you saw me on the street, chances are you’d see me walking around with a bounce in my step and the hint of a silly little grin on my mouth. If you watched me being by myself, you might hear a random little giggle from time to time. I know, I’m a dork, but I think I’ve figured something out. Life is both beautiful and painful, but through it all there is a reason to smile. Why would I say such a thing?

Because this life is not the point.

This is my secret: I am not of this world.

I know you’ve seen that phrase before—on T-shirts, on car windows, on keychains, on Bible covers. It’s everywhere in the Christian community these days. It’s become cliché. But, as with most clichés, it’s so common because it’s true.

I do not belong to this world! I’m just passing through. I know who I am and I know where I’m going. Earth is not my final destination. I am able to go through life with a smile on my face and a song in my soul because I know that my citizenship lies somewhere greater.

That’s what occupies my thoughts. It’s the reaching for that country that thrills me through every bone.

I may live in a house in Suburbia, California. I may wear clothes purchased at Target. I may breathe Earth’s oxygen and eat Earth’s food, but it’s all an illusion. It’s real enough for the time being, but someday I will look back and laugh at how brief and thin it was.

Paul wrote, “What we see now is like a dim image in a mirror; then we shall see face-to-face.” (1 Corinthians 13:12) That’s what I’m fully expecting it to be like. When I wake up in heaven, I expect to see a world far more vibrant and alive and real than anywhere on Earth. (Twilight fans—remember Bella’s very new experience in Breaking Dawn? Yep. I’m thinking a lot like that.)

Here’s the deal: this planet is not my home. I was created to long for something more. C. S. Lewis captured it perfectly in The Last Battle:

It was the Unicorn who summed up what everyone was feeling. He stamped his right fore-hoof on the ground and neighed and then cried:

“I have come home at last! This is my real country! I belong here. This is the land I have been looking for all my life, though I never knew it till now. The reason why we loved the old Narnia is that it sometimes looked a little like this. Bree-hee-hee! Come further up, come further in!”

In this new Narnia that the characters found, the fruit was sweeter, the mountains were taller, and even the colors were brighter. It was all far more REAL than the place they had come from. All the old limits were gone. They could swim straight up thundering waterfalls, and the water wasn’t even cold.

That’s what I want. When I get to heaven, I want to dance through the clouds and swim up waterfalls and run a lap around the universe holding Jesus’ hand, screaming and laughing like maniacs all the way. I get the giggles every time I think about it.

Imagine…I’m going to sing in perfect harmony with all the angels and spend forever (and ever, and ever, and ever, and ever) hanging out with GOD. This is my deepest longing and my greatest hope.

Tee-hee. :P

Created to Create

2010-01-13T12:45:00.000-08:00

Art.

Quick—what just popped into your head? Paints and canvas? Funky colors and self-expression? Sure, that’s a start, and we can also include music, writing, dancing, acting, etc. For that matter, fashion design, photography, architecture, cosmetology, filmmaking, and a thousand others are art forms as well.

Art is a notoriously tricky thing to define. In my college philosophy class, we spent some time trying. Is art anything that anyone appreciates? Is there an objective standard of what is “good” art? Does art require an intentional creator? We went in circles for a while, disagreed a lot, and I don’t remember if we ever reached a conclusion. What I actually remember more is something we talked about in another class, a class about what it means to be a Christian and an artist. I walked away from that class carrying a concept that blew my mind.

I was created in the image of a Creator. I was born to be an artist. I was created to create.

Wow.

Of course, as a theater student, I already considered myself an artist. I create characters with my voice and my body. But it still amazes me to think about how intrinsic and natural art is to the human soul.

Think about it. What do little kids love to do? They spend most of their time watching, imitating—and creating. Finger paint. Play-Doh. Make-believe. Made-up songs. We are born with the urge to create.

And it’s no wonder, really. Take a break and go read Genesis 1. Or, just check out the world around you.

Look at the evening sky! Who created the stars? Who gave them each a name?...I created the world and covered it with people; I stretched out the sky and filled it with stars.
(Isaiah 40:26, 45:12)

This entire planet is a fantasy land bursting with living art! And its Creator is our Father. We were made to take after him.

What an amazing thought! If the Holy Spirit of the original and ultimate Artist is living inside of us…what incredible things might we create? We have it in us to create the art that will inspire and change the world. After all, art is one of the most powerful tools for communication we have available to us. I believe this is because it skips over the intellect and speaks straight to the heart.

By the definition my class arrived at, if you’ve ever created anything, you are an artist. I’m not saying you have to be the next Thomas Kinkaid or American Idol. I don’t care if you flunked the only drawing class you ever took and can’t carry a tune to save your life. You were created in the image of an Artist. Creativity is in your blood. You were given the twin gifts of imagination and creativity. No other species on earth has that power.

So then. If the Holy Spirit of the original and ultimate Artist is living inside of us…what incredible things might we create? With God, the ultimate Beauty, as our inspiration, and God, the ultimate Creator, as our father and guide…by my calculations the possibilities are infinite. We have it in us to create the art that will inspire and change the world. After all, art is one of the most powerful tools for communication we have available to us. I believe this is because it skips over the intellect and speaks straight to the heart. It captures the imagination and resonates with the soul. What better way is there to give glory to God and represent Truth to the world?

And here we are back at one of my favorite topics in the world. If you know me at all, you might be able to guess how I suggest you use your divine gift of art: Worship. Write a poem. Sing your own song. Dance in your bedroom. Draw swirlies in your journal. Seriously. Just create something to give glory to God. It doesn’t have to be brilliant. Just express your heart. Make something beautiful. You were born for it.

Oh sing to Jehovah a new song; sing to Jehovah, all the earth.
(Psalm 96:1, emphasis added)

My Heart is a Tower

2009-12-02T11:31:00.000-08:00

In my last blog, I talked about keeping a zero-count ex list, about waiting patiently and having your first and only boyfriend be the man you marry.

But you know what, I think it goes even farther than the number of boyfriends you have. What?!?! Yes, you read that right, I’m going to stack one revolutionary idea on top of another. :)

I think it’s important for us to guard our hearts even in the places where no one sees.

I have a confession to make: I haven’t been all that great at this. Although I’ve never had a boyfriend or been on a date, there are many pages in my journal filled with dreams about a few certain guys that I have allowed to consume my thoughts and my emotions. Now I wish I had let God keep a better check on me, because as they have faded out of my life they left a little heartbreak behind. We never flirted, they probably didn’t even know I liked them, but because I didn’t guard my own heart there’s a bit of an ache that runs through me when I read those old journal entries. And it also makes me wonder...will my husband be jealous someday if he ever reads them? Quite probably not, if he’s a sensible guy and knows how much I love him. But still…would I be embarrassed to show him?

When I think of a tower, like a tower on a medieval castle, I think of something strong and protected, something tall and beautiful. Not anyone can just waltz in and take up residence in it. Entrance into this tower must be earned. And that’s what I want my heart to be like. As far as romantic love goes, my heart should be just as protected as that tower. I don’t want to let anyone in who doesn’t have a right to stay there forever.

I know the picture I’m painting is a very, very high ideal indeed. But someone once said that “Ideals are like stars: you will not succeed in touching them with your hands, but like the seafaring man on the ocean desert of waters, you choose them as your guides, and following them, you reach your destiny.” You and I will both fail at this. I know I already have. But by determining to be aware of who I spend my love on, and even more so how freely I give that love away, I will be protecting my heart and saving ALL of my love for the one man who has earned it, till death do us part.

What I definitely do NOT want to do is bash you or make you feel guilty if you’ve already dated or had boyfriends. That may be something God has released you to do at this point in your life, I don’t know. That’s between you and him. I’m not trying to lay down the law here. The only thing I am trying to do is help you see a little more clearly the vast importance of guarding your heart. Your love is a treasure. Don’t you dare give it away lightly.

Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life.
Proverbs 4:23 NIV

Oh, let me warn you, sisters in Jerusalem…Don’t excite love, don’t stir it up, until the time is right—and you’re ready.
Song of Songs 2:7, 5:3, 8:4 MSG

PS – Again, I would love to read your comments on this. I know I’m talking crazy talk, but is it a good kind of crazy or should I be sent away with the special doctors? ;)

A Guy's Thoughts on Beauty

2009-11-19T13:36:00.000-08:00

Believe it or not, girls aren't the only ones talking about what it means to be gloriously beautiful. Check out this open letter to Christian girls from my friend Josh. "True Beauty and God's Love"

The Ex List

2009-11-18T15:11:00.000-08:00

I’ll admit, I never saw it, but there was a show on TV that ran in 2008 called “The Ex List.” It’s about a woman who discovers that she has already met, dated, and broken up with the man she was meant to be with. Trouble is, she has met, dated, and broken up with a lot of men, and she has no idea which one was The One. So she has to go through her “ex list” and re-date all of her old boyfriends to find the gem she passed over the first time.

It makes me think about what I’d want my ex list to look like someday. How many names would I want written on that page? Maybe I could rack up social points by going through a few dozen boyfriends. Maybe I could practice for marriage by getting into a serious relationship long before I plan to actually commit. That’s certainly how some people think. Not me, though, and I hope you agree. I’d want as short of a list as possible. Is ten a good number? How about five? Maybe I’ll do really well and only break up two or three times before I make a lifelong commitment.

Maybe my husband will only be the second or third man I give my whole heart to. I’m sure he’ll appreciate that.

But then I have to ask myself: What’s the ideal? If I could write the perfect love story, what would it look like?

If I want to keep the ex list as short as possible, then the ideal would be to keep it at zero. No breakups whatsoever. I’d spend years waiting for my prince to come, and then when I finally met him, I’d let him win my love slowly. Then at long last, I’d marry him and stay married forever. He’d be my First and Only One.

Seriously, how romantic is that? Can you imagine what it would be like to be in a relationship without the clutter of past boyfriends? To be able to give your whole heart away, without any pieces broken off?

Hopefully you’re already committed to the idea of saving your virginity for your wedding day. That’s amazing, I commend you highly. But how often do we think that way about our emotional purity? Do we guard our hearts the same way we guard our bodies?

When I get married, I want to be able to give my husband everything: all of my body and all of my heart. I don’t want him to be the second or third or fifth or fifteenth man I say “I love you” to. I don’t want to give my heart away until I know he’s the one to keep it forever.

This is why I’m not dating. Not because I’m afraid I may “go too far,” and not because it doesn’t sound fun, but because I want to keep every last corner of my heart for the man I will marry.

Don’t you think he deserves that? Don’t you think you deserve that?

For the record, a number of my dear friends whom I deeply respect have gone through breakups before. That’s ok. Sometimes the guy you thought was right turns out to be not so perfect after all. But I know they would agree with me that breakups are not part of the ideal picture. And it is possible to achieve that zero-count ex list. I have some other dear friends who have done it, and I am in awe of their love story.

As Amy March said in Little Women, "You don't need scores of suitors. You only need one, if he's the right one."

Ok, so I know you all have strong reactions to what I've just said. Please comment and be heard! I don't want to be the only one talking here. Let's figure this thing out together! :)

COMING UP: What if we took this idea to the next level? Part 2 coming Wednesday, December 2!

The Princess Bride

2009-11-04T19:09:00.000-08:00

I like to imagine sometimes what my wedding will be like. I want something breezy and free and beautiful. I imagine what I will look like as I walk down the aisle. I picture a white flowing dress that looks like something out of The Lord of the Rings, and maybe even bare feet. My hair will have soft waves and curls, gently pulled back and pouring down my back in a luscious waterfall. My gauzy veil, attached to my hair by a little silver tiara, will flow down over my hair, brushing against my cheek. I will walk slowly down the aisle, with all my dearest friends and family watching me, but my eyes will be locked on the eyes of the man at the front. My bridegroom. The man who has chosen me whom I have chosen in return. Maybe you like to imagine the same thing.

What would you say if I told you there is a wedding more beautiful than that waiting for you?

There are a lot of phrases that get batted around in the church a lot, and “Bride of Christ” is one of them. If you grew up in the church, you’ve probably heard it all your life. We talk about the Church being the Bride of Christ, and in heaven we will celebrate at the Wedding Feast of the Lamb.

This can sound like a rather strange concept (especially for guys), but it’s definitely in the Bible.

"Let us rejoice and be glad; let us praise his greatness! For the time has come for the wedding of the Lamb, and his bride has prepared herself for it. She has been given clean shining linen to wear.” (The linen is the good deeds of God's people.) Then the angel said to me, “Write this: Happy are those who have been invited to the wedding feast of the Lamb.” And the angel added, “These are the true words of God.”
Revelation 19:7-9

And I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared and ready, like a bride dressed to meet her husband.
Revelation 21:2

That bride, the new Jerusalem, is the Church, all believers who have ever lived. She is being married to Jesus, the lamb of God, the lamb who was slain. (John 1:29, Revelation 5:12)

Maybe this is something that boggles your mind a bit. I hope so. It is a gloriously massive concept, and it should stagger you a bit. If it doesn’t, you probably haven’t let it sink in yet. We are Jesus’ bride! The King of heaven and earth has chosen us, courted us, and proposed. For those of us who have accepted, a beautiful wedding beyond imagination and blissful unity for all eternity await us.

If you have a hard time thinking of yourself and God in romantic terms, you’re not alone. It was a crazy concept to the Hebrews too. They were used to thinking of themselves primarily as God’s servants, chosen and protected so they could serve him. But this is what God said through one of his prophets in the Old Testament:

“On that day she will call me her husband,” declares the LORD. “She will no longer call me her master.”
Hosea 2:16

God longs to take us beyond a master-servant relationship into a real love affair, a passionate and committed marriage! He wants us to call him “husband”! Can you imagine?

Of course, it’s not entirely literal. God has no gender, and there are millions of Christians, men and women. Obviously, God is not going to put on a tux and we are not going to all try to fit into one wedding dress. But in the most important sense it is absolutely true. Think about it. In human life, marriage is the most intimate relationship two people can have. What better picture is there for God to use in describing how close he wants to be to us?

In the past few years when I first began realizing that this is how God sees me, as his beautiful and beloved bride, I absolutely melted. I have been so captivated by this love that has swept me off my feet. This is my prayer for you.

I am the devoted servant of the Most High God. I am the precious daughter of the King of Kings. But even beyond that…I am the beloved bride of the Man who gave up everything to pursue me. I am the princess bride of King Jesus Christ.

Like a young man taking a virgin as his bride, He who formed you will marry you. As a groom is delighted with his bride, so your God will delight in you.
Isaiah 62:5

A Beauty Glorious is on Facebook!

2009-11-02T14:08:00.000-08:00

No use denying it...you spend about half your life on Facebook. I know it's true, I do it too. So in honor of those of us who stay connected to the world via our news feed and that little red notification box, I have created a Facebook group especially for A Beauty Glorious! Become a member, comment on the page, and stay updated on what's new on this blog. I'd love to see you over there!

And keep your eyes peeled for a new blog post I'll be putting up in a few days!

Hello, My Name Is...

2009-10-22T13:32:00.000-07:00

Have you ever worn one of these nametags before? They’re pretty awesome. All you have to do is fill in your name and that little sticker will identify you to the world. “Hello, my name is Caitlyn.”

Your name is one of the most important parts of you. It’s usually the first thing everyone learns about you. Your last name even tells about the family that you are a part of. Your name gives you your identity and your place in the world.

But when it comes down to it, what I write on my nametag is just a word. A bigger question would be, what’s behind that name? Who is Caitlyn, really?

If name represents identity, then when what is my true identity? Who am I really, deep down at the core? What is my Name, my soul’s Name?

If you asked me, “Who is Caitlyn?” I might answer, “I am nineteen years old and the oldest of four kids. I am a student, an actor, a writer, a dancer, and a youth group leader. I am average height and rather skinny and pale. I like to read fantasy books, watch crime dramas, and eat chocolate.”

Did I just tell you who I am? I certainly described myself in a lot of different ways, but how many of those actually define me? Are they part of my Name? What really makes up your core identity?

Different things in your life will give you many different names. Sports might tell you you’re an amazing athlete, or you’re a terrible athlete. School might tell you that you’re a good student, or you’re a bad student. Advertising might tell you you’re not thin enough or not trendy enough. The list goes on.

People love to tell you your name. In your school, you might be named “the smart girl,” “the band geek,” “the beauty queen,” “the rich girl,” “the foster kid,” “the goody-goody.” You might have been called “ugly,” or “worthless,” or “slut.” People are really good at calling other people all kinds of things.

In between all that, it’s easy to get confused. It’s easy to start accepting those names and begin calling yourself those things. Or maybe you’re the kind of person who knows not to believe every label she’s given, but isn’t sure which ones are good to believe. You know there’s got to be more to who you are, but having a hard time figuring out what it is.

You see, we can’t do without an identity. We need to know who we are.

We need to know our Name.

So where do we start?

In my mind, there’s only one place to start that makes any sense at all. Start with God. Who does God say you are? He is King of the whole universe! He created you. If anyone knows who you are, it’s him.

So let’s start there. You are God’s creation, perfectly formed by his hands. (Psalm 139:13-14)

What else?

You are the daughter of God.
Romans 8:14-15 - Those who are led by the Spirit of God are sons [and daughters] of God. For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of sonship. And by him we cry, "Abba, Father."

You are the bride of Christ.
Song of Solomon 4:9 - You have stolen my heart, my sister, my bride; you have stolen my heart with one glance of your eyes, with one jewel of your necklace.

You are the temple of the Holy Spirit.
1 Corinthians 3:16 - Don't you know that you yourselves are God's temple and that God's Spirit lives in you?

You are a friend of Christ.
John 15:15 - I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master's business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you.

You are chosen by God, holy and dearly loved.
Colossians 3:12 - Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.

You are a foreigner on earth and a citizen of heaven.
1 Peter 2:11 - Dear friends, I urge you, as aliens and strangers in the world, to abstain from sinful desires, which war against your soul.
Philippians 3:20 - But our citizenship is in heaven. And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ.

You are more than a conqueror though Christ.
Romans 8:37 - No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.

You are one of a chosen generation, a royal priest hood, a holy nation.
1 Peter 2:9 - But you are a chosen people, a royal priest hood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light.

And that just scratches the surface! The Bible is full of affirmations of God’s love for you and the identity he has given you. And what he says about you is far more important that what people say about you, or even what you say about yourself. If those things are nagging whispers, then God’s answer is a fantastic clap of thunder that shakes the earth and shatters the lies. Just like nothing can stand in the way of God’s power, nothing can stand in the way of God’s Name for you.

No matter what, you can stand firm in this truth. In God’s eyes, you are a warrior bride, a royal princess, infinitely beloved and chosen by him to change the world.

This is your identity. This is your Name.

Poured Out

2009-06-25T14:25:00.000-07:00

A group of men is sitting around a table, talking and eating. These are all church leaders and such, men known for following God. Suddenly someone comes in who was not invited. A woman.

Conversation stops. The men all watch her as she comes in. The woman’s eyes are focused on one man. She crosses over to him and sits down by his feet. Her eyes well up with tears and she begins to sob. She has been clutching something in her hands, and now she reveals a small bottle.

A collective gasp rises around the room. The bottle is made of beautifully cut alabaster stone and is full of perfume, worth thousands of dollars. Still shaking with sobs, the woman gently wipes the dust off of it and twists the entire top off. A thick fragrance fills the room, like an entire greenhouse of flowers.

The woman holds the bottle over the man’s feet and begins to pour. A thin stream of amber-colored liquid pours out from the bottle’s neck. She keeps pouring, pouring. The bottle is almost half empty. Still she pours. The man’s feet are now covered in this sweet expensive perfume. The bottle is three quarters empty. And still the woman pours. She seems determined to hold nothing back.

Only a tiny bit is left in the bottle now. The stream runs thinner and become a trickle. The woman tips the bottle further trying to let the last few drops escape. Finally one last drop of perfume is clinging onto the lip of the bottle. The woman gives one small shake, the drop falls, and the woman sits back, her tears subsiding and her bottle empty.

Some of the people there became angry and said to one another, "What was the use of wasting the perfume? It could have been sold for more than three hundred silver coins and the money given to the poor!" And they criticized her harshly. But Jesus said, "Leave her alone! Why are you bothering her? She has done a fine and beautiful thing for me.
Mark 14:4-6

This story, or one very much like it, appears in all four gospels in the New Testament. It has recently become a favorite of mine because of this idea of the pouring. This perfume was very expensive, worth almost a year’s wages. It was the most expensive thing she owned, and was probably supposed to be her dowry for when she got married, or her security fund in case she ever needed money. She had probably been saving it for years for just such a reason. Can you imagine owning a perfume that cost a year’s worth of paychecks? Can you imagine wasting it all in the space of a few seconds?

Yes, I said waste. It was a good kind of waste, but it was still a waste. The disciples called it a waste and thought she should have found a much more practical use for it. But Jesus understood and he loved what the woman had done.

It took courage to come into that room. The table was full of respected church leaders, very proper and formal and often judgmental. The woman in Luke (which is probably a different woman than the one in the other three gosepls) had a reputation as a sinner (Luke 7:37), possibly a prostitute or adulteress. She was not welcome in that house by any conventional standard.

But she came anyway, carrying with her her most valuable possession. And then she did the unthinkable. In the space of a few seconds, she poured out all of that expensive perfume on Jesus’ feet. On his feet! She knelt down on the ground and, with tears streaming down her face, anointed his feet with her perfume and dried it with her hair. This is the most humbling thing she could have done. She sacrificed not only her financial security, but all of her pride. In that moment, it didn’t matter to her that she was making a fool of herself. It didn’t matter that the men wrinkled their noses in distaste at her arrival and then gaped disapprovingly at the waste of the perfume. She simply didn’t care. She wasn’t there for them.

She had spent everything she had to worship Jesus. Certainly, serving others is a way to worship Jesus, but in this case she wasn’t serving anyone but him. She poured out everything – her hopes, her fears, her pride – and spilled it all in worship at Jesus’ feet. Drop by drop, the perfume flowed from the bottle. Drop by drop, she emptied herself. She wasn’t interested in holding anything back. She was there for one purpose only – to express her love for the Man whom she knew loved her like no other.

Once the men got over the shock of what she was doing, they began arguing about the actual waste of the perfume. “That money should be given to the poor!” they said. “That’s how you show love for God! You’ve got to do something!”

But Jesus knew otherwise. He understood her heart full of love. He was deeply touched by her display of affection. He recognized the sacrifices she had made, and he loved them. The waste of that perfume meant far more to him than any charitable donation. It was an act of pure love.

There was another woman who sat at Jesus feet at another dinner party. While her sister was hurrying to accomplish things, work she could do, Mary chose instead to sit at Jesus’ feet. She wasted her time just to be with Jesus. And Jesus honored her for it. (Luke 10:38-42)

I want my life to reflect that kind of love. I want to waste my life in ways that the world can never understand. I want to spend every waking moment pouring out my love to Jesus. Pouring, pouring, pouring, all of what I have, all of who I am, all of who I will be. My plans, my dreams, my talents, my relationships. My very soul.

In every way possible I want to show my love for him. If that means I spend hours dancing or singing or writing or simply laying on the ground, I will do it gladly. That is my alabaster box, and that is my costly perfume.

He poured out his life for me. The least I can do is pour out all of myself, waste my life in love.

Glorious, lavish waste.

My life is like a drink offering being poured out on the altar.
2 Timothy 4:6b

These are the two songs that have really inspired some of these thoughts.

You can read this story in Matthew 26:6-13, Mark 14:3-9, John 12:1-8, and a very similar story in Luke 7:36-50.

New mag for girls!

2009-01-26T11:47:00.000-08:00

Hey, ya'all. Just wanted to drop you a little news item that I think you'll be interested in. If you've ever picked up BRIO magazine, you know that it's a pretty awesome publication, full of a fun Christian perspective on everything girls face today. Well, BRIO as we have known it is coming to an end. Focus on the Family is going to put it into the hands of a new organization who will take it from here. (If you're a BRIO subscriber, don't worry, you'll get your copy same as always.)

This being the case, Susie Shellenberger, our beloved editor of BRIO, is moving on. She's now starting her own magazine for teen girls, and calling it SUSIE. I've looked at her blog, www.susieshellenberger.blogspot.com, and it looks like she's already got a really exciting vision for what this new magazine will look like. If you have a few minutes, I'd encourage you to pop over there and check it out. Susie's really interested to know what you think, and she's giving away tons of fun prizes!

A Father's Love Song

2009-01-13T09:30:00.000-08:00

My daughter, you are beautiful.
I twisted every strand of DNA with my own fingers.
I chose your hair that shines,
I chose your eyes that glow.
Every dimple,
Every lash,
Every inch of your skin,
I made myself!
“She’s perfect,” I said.
“Do you see my daughter? She’s captivating!”

My daughter, you are loved.
I watch you laugh,
I watch you grow.
One glance takes my breath away.
Every image sketched,
Every point scored,
Every note sung,
I burst with pride.
“Do you see her? Look!
That one’s mine.”

My daughter, you are known.
I have counted every hair on your head.
I know your ideal guy,
your most embarrassing moment,
your favorite kind of ice cream.
I know your fears and your ambitions.
I know every secret you’ve ever had.
I know your past,
your present,
and your future.
I know you better than you know yourself.

My precious daughter, you are held.
I have seen the tears,
the nights when your pillow is soaked.
I have seen the heart that was shattered,
the hopes and dreams so cruelly dashed.

Oh, my daughter, I have seen.
I have caught every tear in a bottle
and I keep it close to my heart.
I collected the pieces of your heart,
and I hold them still,
longing to restore them.
My arms are ready,
open,
reaching.
Run to me!
Run to me!
And I will give you rest.

A Christmas Thought

2008-12-24T23:11:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas, my beautiful girls!

I have a confession. Several weeks ago, I decided I wanted to do a special Christmas series for A Beauty Glorious, something fun and insightful and memorable. I started writing a few pieces of it...then life happened and I wasn’t able to finish and polish it in time to do a full Christmas series. Ah, well. Maybe next year.

So this year, I’ll just share one little tidbit of what’s been rolling through my mind this season.

Matthew 1:23 NIV -- The virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel"—which means, "God with us."

God with us.

GOD with us.

God WITH us.

God with US.

That cute little baby lying in the manger? That was GOD. And he came to be with US.

Jesus left his glorious position in heaven to come to Earth as a squalling infant born to poor parents in a filthy stable. He lived his life ostracized and despised 98% of the time, then died as a common criminal in the most horrific way imaginable.

He came as a HUMAN. He had accidents before he was potty trained, his voice cracked when he went through puberty, and he stank after a long day of walking. He was as human as they come.

And all to be with us. With you. With me.

This is God we’re talking about. GOD. Yahweh, the Holy One of Israel. The same God who led the Hebrews out of Egypt, the God David sang to, the God Isaiah saw in heaven surrounded by angels crying “holy, holy, holy.”

Wrapped in rags in a pile of dirty, itchy hay.

God with us.

Merry Christmas, my sisters. May we never forget.

Beauty Around the World

2008-11-24T15:08:00.000-08:00

These girls are part of the Karen people in Burma. When they are about five or six years old they begin wearing these rings around their necks. As they get older, more and more rings are added, pushing the ribcage down and making the neck look longer. A woman generally has about twenty or more rings around her neck. These women are considered beautiful.

These women are part of the Massai tribe in Africa. Massai women wear long dangly earrings, as many as five or six, suspended from very stretched out earlobe holes. They also shave their heads so they can carry things on them. These women are considered beautiful.

This is a painting from Europe, during the Renaissance. Women wanted to be pleasantly plump, since the more you ate the richer you were. They wanted high, wide foreheads, and would sometimes pluck their hairlines to achieve this. They wanted pale white skin, and would avoid all sun and sometimes paint their skin to look as white as possible. They wanted eyelashes that were short and thin. These women were considered beautiful.

Are you noticing a pattern here?

…Not really.

You may have heard the saying, “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” In a sense, that’s true. What is considered beautiful in one country or time period may be completely different from what is considered beautiful somewhere else.

Right now in America the thing is slim, trim, and tan. Fifty years ago being tan wasn’t nearly so popular, and women tried to be much more curvy. In fact, Marilyn Monroe would have been considered overweight by today’s standards. Who knows what will be the thing in another fifty years?

So here’s my question for you: whose definition of “beautiful” is the real beautiful?

Are the Karen, Massai, and Renaissance women less beautiful than American supermodels today?

Who has the right to say, “This is beautiful, but that isn’t”?

Can anyone have that right?

Cadia Music Video!

2008-11-21T11:53:00.000-08:00

This is my favorite song from pop duo Cadia. It has a really fun sound and I think Courtney and Tori really express what A Beauty Glorious is all about. Be yourselves, girls! Let your beauty shine!

A Beauty Glorious

2008-11-19T14:10:00.000-08:00

Do you love mermaids? Fairies? Did you want to be Tinkerbell or Ariel when you were younger? (Or maybe you still do. That’s fine, I’m right there with ya.) Why? Because they are…otherworldly. Special. Beautiful and mysterious. There is nothing ordinary about them.

Do you mind if I blow your mind a little?

Gen 1:26-27 Then God said, "Let us make humans in our image, in our likeness….” So God created humans in his image. In the image of God he created them. He created them male and female.

Have you ever drawn a picture or made a doll that looked like you? You made it in your image. It’s not you, it’s not even made of the same stuff as you. But you made it to be like you; you put yourself into it. That’s what God did. We are the closest thing this world has to seeing what God looks like.

In Genesis 2:7, God even took that a step further by breathing into us. He breathed into us. We have God’s breath inside of us. Wow. I get goosebumps every time I think of that.

Ladies, his fingerprints are all over us. Everything we have and everything we are came from God. Can you imagine? Can you even begin to imagine?

My sisters, we were birthed of God. We are otherworldly. We are real-life fairies.

And as such we are stunningly beautiful.

Really. I believe the angels are jealous of us. Out of all creation, God created us in his image especially for himself. For that reason we have a special kind of glory that no other creature in the universe can touch.

Not only all that, but we are women, the final crowning touch on all creation. People throughout the millennia have agreed that there is nothing in the universe that compares to a woman's beauty.

I remember one night when I heard God tell me so. I was laying in bed thinking of nothing and he all of a sudden said, (and I am paraphrasing) "Can you see yourself? Look at you. You are incredibly beautiful." I kind of giggled, and he said, "I'm serious. You're breathtaking." As soon as I figured out it was really him and not just my own mind, I felt so beautiful and so wrapped in love. For a minute there I got a glimpse of how God created me and how he sees me.

Face it, girls, we are uniquely beautiful. I don't mean "You're beautiful on the inside; you're beautiful in your own special way; oh well, dear, I think you're beautiful." Frankly, I think those kind of comments sometimes do more harm than good.

No, I mean that YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL. Unequivocally. Look down at your body right now. It's a work of art. An absolute masterpiece. It's a reflection of God's beauty. What could possibly be better than that? You are human, God's treasure, a reflection of his glory. And that makes you stunning.

Welcome.

2008-11-19T14:04:00.000-08:00

Hi. I’m Caitlyn. Nice to meet you.

I’ve been thinking for a while about starting this blog, and I finally decided to just go for it. I’d like to be able to share with young women, especially those in Jr. High and High School, some of what I'm learning about who we are as women and daughters of God. If you’re not a Christian, that’s okay, God still created you and loves you more than his own life. A lot of this will apply to you as well.

I’m only eighteen myself, and you will never hear me claim to have life all figured out, but God has shown me a few things that I’d like to share with you through this blog. And in writing it, I’ll also be reminding myself, because I forget so easily sometimes. Some days it feels like God’s grace is the only fuel in my tanks; without it, I’d stall and die.

A minute ago I said that we are women and daughters of God. Maybe you’re thinking, “Caitlyn, I’m not a woman, I’m only thirteen,” but I’m going to call us women anyway. God didn’t create men, women, boys, and girls, he created man and woman in his own image. In his own image? You’ve probably heard that before, and it can be a really crazy idea to get your head around. Whole books have been written about it, but in my next blog we’ll see if we can unpack a little of what it means.