“...We may know the right answer. And yet we don’t know it. It is a hard answer. But we make it sound like a pat answer. God sets about a long slow answering. But we try to make it a quick fix. His answer insists on being lived out over time and into the particulars. We act as if just saying the right words makes it so. God’s answer insists on changing you into a different kind of person. But we act as if some truth, principle, strategy, or perspective might simply be incorporated into who we already are. God personalizes his answer on hearts with uncanny flexibility. But we turn it into a formula: “If you just believe__________.” If you just do_______. If you just remember_____.” No important truth ever contains the word “just” in the punch line.”
15 Ways to Charm Her
Southern Living, July 2009 By Amy Bickers
“Want to impress a Southern girl? Just think “What would my grandfather have done?”
Number one: We still expect you to give up your seat for a lady. On a bus, at a bar, on a train. . . we don’t care where you are. Unless you are at a restaurant and the only lady in sight is the one taking your order, stand up...So, men, here’s a short list of things Southern girls still expect from you.
We still expect you to…
- Stand up for a lady. Actually, this doesn’t just involve chairs.
- Know that the SEC has the best football TEAMS IN THE NATION. Big 12 fan? Hmm, perhaps you should keep walking.
- Kill bugs.
- Hold doors open. This goes for elevator doors too.
- Fix things or build stuff. I once watched in awe as my stepfather built a front porch on the house he shares with my mother. He knew just what to do, cutting every notch, hammering every nail. The project was complete by sunset.
- Wear boots occasionally. Not the fancy, I-paid-$l,000-for-these kind. We’re talking about slightly mud-crusted, I-could-have-just-come-in-from-the-field boots.
- Take off your hat inside.
- Grill stuff.
- Call us. If you want to ask us out, don’t text and don’t e-mail. Pick up the phone and use your voice.
- Stand when we come back to the dinner table.
- Pull out chairs. Wait, that’s not all. Scoot them back in before we hit the floor.
- Pay the tab on the first few dates.
- Don’t show up in a wrinkled, untucked shirt. Care about your appearance but not too much. Don’t smell better than we do. Don’t use mousse or gel. You shouldn’t look like you spend more time in front of the mirror than we do.
- Never get in bar fights. Patrick Swayze might look cool in Road House, but in reality, bar fights are stupid and embarrassing. You don’t look tough. You look like an idiot.
- Know how to mix our favorite cocktail JUST THE WAY WE LIKE IT. Fix your favorite too. Sit down on the porch (it’s okay if you didn’t build it), tell us how your day went, and we’ll tell you about ours..."
my heart and my head are always disagreeing... i'm part logic //part emotion. part introvert //part extrovert. part structure & control //part abstract free spirit who makes plans just to break them. my heart. my head. always fighting. for control. of me.
i actually don't think i ever did that at 6. but at 23 i wish it was so simple. there aren't monsters in my head, there's an enemy who is quite a match for me. who tells me lies i cannot fight. and apparently, tonight, no amount of praying or scripture reading or worship music is fighting either.
peace? i have peace in knowing my salvation is eternal. that Jesus does have my soul, that He must be with me because i have no new scars on my body. i am not carving the torment of my mind onto my skin, hallelujah! there is one small victory! i know the gospel is true. i am forgiven. i am, in reality, ok. more than ok!
but peace, the feeling of peace, is anything but here. i'm shattered. in a way i haven't been in a very long time, not in years of warfare. it's pathetic. in the past 3.5 hours the trickle of tears comes in waves with the darts. i didn't know i could cry this much in one sitting, at such a small thing... overreaction much? i'm not just letting the devil have his say. i am believing that Jesus has to be the One to defeat Him. I'm battling with the gospel. With logic. With prayer & song. With ok so worst case scenario, it's not a lie; well Jesus still yours, you are his; it's not the end of you!
but. i am so tired of getting hit.
i am so tired of how satan uses. against me! the word.
those who are my brothers & sisters, fellow warriors.
but. HE LIES.
i am alone. this is a battle i have to cling to Jesus alone in. My parents, my besties, my boy, nobody can get in this one with me. i KNOW Jesus is here. but i know how bitterly abandoned david felt when he was writing psalms 86 &88. O Lord. when will you save me? how many times must i cast myself on your mercy, begging you to stop the lies that have the pain of past reality entwined. the voice that reminds me of my past sins so sharply, it's as if he is scraping glass along my skin. it makes me so grateful that i know. know. beyond a doubt. i am forgiven!! but oh how i long for a forgetting. to cast it from east to west, to not have to every 5 minutes plead the blood of my precious Christ. to not have pictures in my head.
lies can hurt so fiercely. slay me. when nothing else gets close. such a little one too! how often have we done this? how often have i stood accused? & heard Paul declare the promise of God that NONE can condemn those HE has justified? so why is it different this time? it's shameful how weak i am. how easily shattered by a few words. words,thoughts. wielded like a sword. my shield keeps the blows from being mortal.
but allows bruises.
i cannot wait for dawn. for light. for seeing the Savior one day (oh soon please!) as He stands in Rev 19. As i know He has stood with me. silently. unfelt. but there, supporting sustaining saving. saving His little lamb, who feels anything but worth saving.