Category: Love

Truth: Man.

by ShethChristianity / Church / Friends / Loneliness / Love / Relationships / Seminary / Truth Tuesday1 Comment on Truth: Man.

There was a question posed on Reddit this past Sunday: “Men of Reddit, what’s a thing that can be scary about being a man?”  I thought it was an intriguing question, and the answers that were given didn’t entirely shock me:

  • It is terrifying how lonely middle age is…
  • People expect you to be ‘okay’ in obviously dangerous situations…
  • Expected to make the first move…
  • She (my ex) spread rumours that I was abusive and violent…
  • Being told to ‘man up’ when you’re having a terrible day…
  • You could be the most depressed person on the planet and no one would give a shit…
  • I don’t want to be seen as a thread by people I would never hurt…
  • People don’t believe when we express sexual assault or abuse…
  • The sheer expectation that we can shoulder everyone’s stress…
  • The loneliness of it…[1]

Yes, as a man I’m comfortable walking down the street.
Yes, as a man I’m comfortable on payday.
Yes, as a man I’m comfortable leaving my drink at the bar.
Yes, as a man I’m comfortable accepting a first call to a pulpit.
I’m comfortable when these things happen because, as a man, life is sometimes easier.[2]  But…

If I’m honest, I’d have to admit that this Reddit thread’s answers and the stories surrounding them are not just heartbreaking…they are my answers and my stories as well, landing terribly close to home.  It’s scary as hell to be a man.

It’s scary, not just because of these things, but because there’s a lot riding on maintaining my manliness.  I must protect.  I must fight.  I must conquer.  I must be the god that is portrayed and passed down because there’s an “invisible male chorus of all the other guys who hiss or cheer as he attempts to approximate the masculine ideal…the chorus is made up of all the guy’s comrades and rivals, all his buddies and bosses, his male ancestors and his male cultural heroes, his models of masculinity…”[3]   I must maintain this idea of ‘man’ and ‘manliness’ because I dare not face the scrutiny of that chorus of ancient voices.

It’s scary because I’m supposed to be an autonomous machine – no feelings, no emotions, no tears (crying is a sign of weakness!) – the world depends on me sucking it up and dealing with it.  I try to talk to women about how weird it is for a man to cry and sometimes I feel like I’m speaking a foreign language to her.  It’s utterly unexpected when a man cries, when a man expresses his heart, when a man exposes his most inner heart.  It’s scary that men don’t have more opportunities to express themselves, and it’s scary that it’s expectedly-unavoidable when men are crushed by the burdens of un-expression.

It’s scary because as much as I’d like to, there’s not a damn thing I can do about this at all.  I don’t want to be emotionally distant.  I don’t want to ‘man up and deal’.  I don’t want to carry burdens because it’s expected of me.  I want to talk, express, cry, be free – but until the world allows me space to do so, I can’t do it.  Until the world admits that my world is scary, I will continue to bow under this weight.  It’s scary because men can’t admit that their world is scary.

Friends, talk with the men in your lives.  Help them to have expression.  Help to carry their burdens – and try to ease their burden.  Help them to overcome those ancient voices of doubt, fear, distrust, and stability.  Help the men in your lives to have friends – real, honest-to-God friends – who talk, share, cry, laugh, and be vulnerable with one another.  Help the men in your lives to understand that they don’t have to do it all…they don’t have to be it all…that they’re not alone.

May God give us vision to see the suffering of the strong.  May God give us hearts to connect to the pain of the powerful.  May God give us the ability to realize that we needn’t be strong nor powerful, but honest and real.  And when we are open and exposed with one another, may we be caring and grateful, offering peace.

much love. sheth.

 

[1] “Men of Reddit, What’s A Thing That Can Be Scary About Being A Man?” Reddit.com; Accessed 12/15/2019. https://www.reddit.com/r/AskReddit/comments/eaymhi/men_of_reddit_whats_a_thing_that_can_be_scary/

[2] I must say that I’m not comfortable with the idea that, because I’m a man, these things are inherently easier – I’m working for and promoting gender equality so it’s all uniformly easier.

[3] Philip L. Culbertson, Counseling Men (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1994), 25.

Close

by ShethChristianity / Love / Poetry / Prayer / Seminary / Truth TuesdayLeave a Comment on Close


He spoke of silently weeping
after he had climbed to the top of Mount Sinai
and witnessed the rising of the sun
quickly light up the sky
in a splash of vermilion.

He told tales of slowly wading
into the muddy, reedy waters of the Jordan
standing as He did and baptized as He was
in those hallowed waters,
though, this time for the experience.

He recalled solemnly watching
as bodies moved to and from the Western Wall,
those silent – and loud – pray-ers who offered up
their petitions to God, who
no doubt listened intently.


Once, I visited my grandmother
after a long absence, and
as we silently sat in her room,
I held her hand.

I can confidently say, this:


I was closer to God.

Truth: Opposition

by ShethChristianity / Life / Love / Relationships / Seminary / Truth Tuesday1 Comment on Truth: Opposition

Recently I went before my presbytery to move forward in my ordination process and had to face a variety of questions about myself and my calling asked by church pastors and elders.  I stood before that fine group of people with my soul bare and naked and I attempted to answer their questions as best I could.  I managed to give an answer to every question, but there is one question I’m still wrestling with: “Tell us about the last time you interacted with – had a conversation with – a non-believer.”

I looked down at the ground, shuffled my feet, and tried to figure out when that last time was… when did I last interact with a non-believer?  Outside of the cashiers and other service-people I had given my money to, I couldn’t think of an honest and real interaction I’ve had recently.

My realization in that moment wasn’t a shock to me because I live in an insular community: I live with, eat with, study with, and recreate with my seminary classmates.  I haven’t ventured out to make friends outside this place because I’ve never before experienced a place where I can so freely ask questions about faith, about God, about church, and not have to worry about my questions.  While I haven’t recently had a conversation with a non-believer, I’ve realized that it’s been a very healthy few years of solely-Christian based conversations.

Seminary has been a place for me to wonder, to grow, to mull…a place where I have been able to get a better understanding of my beliefs, my faith, and my church.  Seminary has been a place where I have been able to discern, discuss, and debate…all while feeling free of judgement, ridicule, and persecution.  I have been able to hone my thoughts, understand who I am, and who I am in relation to God.

But realizing that it’s been nearly three years since I’ve last had a “real world” conversation, I know that I need to step out beyond these grounds and get back into those spaces.  Not because the world needs me, but because I need it.  I need those discussions, those push-backs, those disagreements.  I need opposition to help me grow.

May we find time to sit and talk with people who don’t share our same beliefs. May we make room in our lives for different ideas…opinions…and thoughts.
May we welcome disagreements and respond in compassion and love.

much love. sheth.

Truth: Burning.

by ShethBeauty / Christianity / Friends / Life / Loneliness / Love / Prayer / Relationships / Seminary / Suicide / Truth Tuesday1 Comment on Truth: Burning.

Villa Grove is a dot on the map, not even a stop – it’s simply a place people drive through, and while there are a few residents within the immediate township, most of the people are scattered around the San Luis Valley.  The residents of the area moved there to enjoy the tranquility of the valley, while others moved there to run away from civilization.  If you mind your own business and don’t get overly friendly, the area is a great place to live.

As a pawn for the USPS, I worked the Villa Grove post office quite often as they were seeking a permanent employee.  The office, situated on the side of the highway, faced east towards Hayden Pass and was prime viewing ground for watching smoke plumes from a forest fire in 2016.  The initial days of the fire were unnerving for people on both sides of the pass as it was unclear which direction the fire would travel. Would it remain on the east side of the pass and head towards Coaldale or would it crawl over the pass and head west towards Villa Grove?

I had a customer come in to the office and she made it clear that she was terrified of what may happen, pounding the counter and demanding that the fire be put out.  She wanted to know why there weren’t more planes and helicopters dropping retardant and water, and why there weren’t more firefighters creating fire lines.  She didn’t want to see the destruction.  She didn’t want to see the dangerous after effects.  She didn’t want people to lose homes and property.  The raging fires were too much for her and she couldn’t see any good in it.

*****

Today I was talking with one of my friends and I was trying to explain why I was taking on more than my fair share of some group work we’re doing together.  And out of nowhere I started to well up with tears because I know this person is facing some big fires in their life, and that’s why I’m doing extra.  The fire in their life is moving along, taking out a lot of old, dead wood and I hate that they have to face the destruction.  The truth is, I’m a lot like that woman at the post office: no more pain, no more struggles, no more danger.  I want the fires out!

*****

That fire on Hayden Pass ended up moving across more than 16,000 acres of land, burning vast areas of deadfall trees and brush – things that needed to burn.  In the following months after that fire, it was difficult to imagine the good that could come from it.  The burn scar had no protection from the rains and there ended up being great deluges in gulches, bringing down dead and burned trees and giant boulders.

As the years have passed, the benefits of the fire are becoming clearer, with healthier trees and grasses becoming more prevalent across the landscape.  The burn scar is becoming less noticeable and, if anything, it makes the unhealthy, non-burned areas more noticeable.  The fire and it’s immediate aftermath were destructive, painful, and left many feeling scared, but it’s made the landscape more beautiful.

*****

I know that my friend has to face these fires. 

I know that it’s going to be difficult, painful, and destructive.

I know there’s nothing I can do to put out these fires –
they’re necessary and have to burn.

I thank God that my friend will be cleared of all the deadfall in their life
and will come out of it with fertile and healthy ground
to grow stronger, deeper, and taller than they were before.

May the fires in our lives burn where they must, and may we face the flames with strength and humility.  May God bring us out of these fires and into growth…into thriving…into beauty.

much love. sheth.

Truth: On Leave.

by ShethChristianity / Friends / Life / Loneliness / Love / Prayer / Relationships / Seminary / Truth Tuesday2 Comments on Truth: On Leave.

Out of character, I’ve been pretty defensive lately, keeping my guard up with the people around me.  Part of it is because there are a handful of students who have learned some of the tricks of the chaplaincy trade and they can now crack the toughest shell with ease (and I need to maintain my mysteriousness). 

As she was working on worship bulletins, Carrie was nonchalantly talking with me, weaving her way through my defenses and she asking me the tough questions.  We talked about my feelings (ugh) and she mentioned that I haven’t been my usual, happy self lately.  I responded that I’m a bit behind in classwork…I’m tired of the school’s systems and unresponsiveness to problems…I’m weary of swings too far to the left and too far to the right…I’m feeling silenced because I’m stereotyped as the oppressor.  I said I’m done with the whole school ‘thing’ and want to move on.

“Maybe you’re beginning to mourn the fact that you’re going to have to move on?  Maybe you’re a little angry that you’re going to have to leave?”

*****

A few weeks ago I had come up with the theme for May’s student newsletter – ‘Leaving’ – and I was looking forward to writing on that subject matter because I have some things I’d like to get off my chest!  But as I think about it and the reflect on the conversation with my friend from earlier today, I’m realizing that she’s probably right – I’m mourning the fact that I’m going to be leaving.  The truth is that I’m ready to go, but I’m not ready to say goodbye to these people.  And I’m realizing that I’m not good at leaving.

I recall being in 4th or 5th grade and having to go to church with my parents outside of our ‘normal’ church time.  It wasn’t rushed or an emergency, but it was still a serious moment.  While not given all the details, I recall my parents telling me that the pastor might be leaving and the church was meeting to discuss it.

The adults met in the sanctuary and us kids went (unsupervised) to the gym to play.  As the evening progressed, it began to sink in that if the pastor left, his daughter – my best friend – would have to leave as well.  My heart dropped slowly through the evening, and I didn’t know how to process those feelings.  I ended up using anger and frustration to express my sadness and heartbreak, and from then on I’ve been protective of leaving moments.

Leaving for college was disastrous.  I intentionally have zero contact with any woman I’ve previously dated.  I slowly let friendships die off if they – or I – move away.  I’d rather cut off, cut out, or destroy any relationship than have to face the process of leaving gracefully.

I know that’s not a healthy way to live, and I think that’s why I’ve been wrestling with all kinds of feelings lately.  I don’t want to be defensive, angry, and holding back my feelings for people – but it’s a whole lot easier than remaining attached and doing the work to maintain relationships.  And it’s a whole lot easier than having to show my feelings and be vulnerable.

I don’t know how to leave gracefully. 

I don’t know how to say goodbye to some relationships and foster others.

I don’t know how to acknowledge that I won’t see most of these people again.

I don’t know how I’ll manage to be in ministry without these talented, loving, Christ-like people by my side.

This hurts my soul…and raises my defenses.

My God,
help me to leave this place well.
let me humbly return.
guide my heart to the new
and bring me often to old.

much love. sheth.

Truth: Disappointment.

by ShethChristianity / Life / Love / Relationships / Seminary / Truth TuesdayLeave a Comment on Truth: Disappointment.

As a child I received my fair share of spankings.  My parents never doled them out in anger and rarely did they act in the moment.  And they never truly hurt – the mere thought of the punishment was what caused me to cry – getting caught was never a happy moment.  While spanking was a good punishment for a time, the act ended when I started laughing as my mom was spanking me and she discovered I had placed magazines in my pants to ease the blows.  My punishments shifted to having my Gameboy taken away, being sent to my room, or denied having friends over to play.

These acts were certainly good for my attitude and were well-deserved, but honestly they were fairly rare for me as I was a pretty decent kid.  When I did mess up, I would end up having a talk with either one of my parents and then the hammer would fall in judgement.

In my final years of high school, my parents began to use the most detrimental punishment of all: “We’re really disappointed in the way you acted.”  There was no consequence, no physical punishment, no spanking – just that sentence.  And it truthfully hurt me more than any other punishment I had experienced.  If I messed up or did something wrong, they’d tell me that they were disappointed by my actions and then leave me alone.  And my heart would break.

I believe my parents – either when they were spanking me, grounding me, or speaking truths into my life – were not disappointed in me, but disappointed by my actions.  They knew that I knew better, yet I chose to not be better.  I knew not to swear or yell or lash out in anger, but I did.  I knew that there were certain people I shouldn’t hang out with, but I did.  I knew not to smoke, drink or chew (or go with girls that do), but I did.   My short-term vision couldn’t see the long-term danger of these people, actions, and things.

 

When it comes to my spiritual life, I think God is oftentimes disappointed in my actions.  God knows I can do better.  God knows I can be better.  God knows that I know better.  But sometimes I choose to not do what I should.  Nothing I do surprises God, but when I make those choices they bring disappointment with them.  Like my parents, God isn’t disappointed with me, but is disappointed with my choices.

Life is challenging, difficult, and filled with all kinds of ways for us to slip up and miss the mark.  God wants us to be good, decent, loving, kind, generous, and forgiving but knows we’ll screw up on occasion.  More often than not, we will do the things we know we shouldn’t.  But we should always remember that God loves us and wants only the best for us.

May God give us the ability to learn from our mistakes, and never wallow in disappointment, but get back up and try to be better.  May we generously and lovingly forgive when others disappoint us.  May we know that God loves us and is never disappointed in us, but in our poor choices and actions.

much love. sheth.

Truth: Pets.

by ShethChristianity / Friends / Love / Pets / Relationships / Seminary / Truth TuesdayLeave a Comment on Truth: Pets.

One of my friends has had to say goodbye of two of her elderly dogs over the past few months, and it’s heartbreaking for me to see her go through this – I ache for her and the losses she has had to deal with amid school finals and life’s never-ending messes. I wish I could make her dogs live forever, or at the very least I wish I could spread out the losses. Many people here at seminary think I’m not a pet-friendly person, but that’s not the case. I love pets dearly – it’s saying goodbye to them that I don’t like, and to guard my heart I put up my stalwart stance.

My family picked up our dog Sunshine when I was four or five and she was a constant in my life over the next decade. She would play with my brother and I in the backyard, stealing our baseballs and chasing our snowballs. She went with us on our family vacations to the Sand Dunes, Blue Mesa, Grand Mesa, and my grandparents’ property in Coaldale. She moved with us to three different homes, was terrified of fireworks, and was always ready to greet me at the door when I came home.

 

As the years went on, her muscle mass deteriorated and had facial paralysis – we eventually had to put her to sleep. It was a decision my parents made, though they asked me if I wanted to skip school and go with them, but I couldn’t do it. I remember that day vividly as I walked to school and my parents drove to the vet – my mind was cycling through all the memories I had of Sunshine and me playing together.

We picked up Josie from the shelter in Buena Vista a few years later, and while she wasn’t a replacement, she lived up to the paw prints left by Sunshine. She was a pit bull/ rottweiler/ something-else mix, and while she looked intimidating, she was one of the sweetest dogs I have ever come across. She was a little goofy, a little ditzy, but full of love and affection. She performed zoomies with perfection, was intimidated by statues, would wiggle her tail-less butt with excitement, and rarely would she bark out of fear or anger.

 

I left for college and she was ready to greet me each time I returned home. When I was depressed and contemplating suicide, Josie was there by my side. When I was watching the terrorist attacks in 2001 and getting ready to fearfully travel overseas, Josie was there with me as I packed my bags. In all the chaos of my early 20-somethings, she was by my side. While I was living in Greeley, my mom called to tell me that Josie had gone to sleep the night before but never woke up. I was just as devastated as I was with Sunshine, and I grieved just as fiercely.

The truth is, I love pets. I loved all the pets that I’ve had in my life: dogs, cats, birds, a ferret, hamsters, and a myriad of goldfish. I loved all the pets that my brother has had: the big dogs, the herding dogs, the little dogs; the goats, cows, and horses. I love all the pets that are around me currently: Scooter, Muji, Mylo, Cooper (x2), Winnie, Blanche, Loveern, Shiloh, Potter, Radar, Kodac, Migelito and all the other dogs and cats, squirrels, frogs, and birds who reside on campus.

I love pets – it’s the end of their lives that I don’t like and what I guard against. I don’t like the hurt and pain and emptiness that comes when they leave. I don’t like the tears and crying that I end up doing because they’re gone. I don’t like missing my best friends and constant companions for years after they’ve left. I don’t like losing pets, which is why I guard my heart against the inevitable ache.

Thank God for pets: for their love and compassion towards us when we are so undeserving of it. Thank God for pets: for always giving us a moment of joy, a time of happiness, an ear of understanding. Thank God for pets: the better being in the relationship time and time again.

Thank God for pets.

much love. sheth.

Truth: Alcohol.

by ShethChristianity / Friends / Life / Love / Relationships / Seminary / Truth TuesdayLeave a Comment on Truth: Alcohol.

I was 9 or 10 years old when I first tasted an alcoholic beverage: a sip of my parents’ red wine at the Black Angus Steakhouse.  It’s bitterness was not pleasing to my uncultured taste buds.  The next time I drank an alcoholic beverage was in the summer before my junior year of high school (I can no longer drink Coors).  After those wild nights I drank occasionally during my senior year when my older friends were home from college.  I went to college and spent a good portion of my first semester with Jack Daniels and Coke.

My inability to control alcohol – and myself – ruined my undergrad work and left me on academic probation (it’s really hard to dig out of a 1.7 GPA).  Alcohol’s inhibition-relaxing properties led me into questionable circumstances and poor choices.  Alcohol wreaked havoc on my body and I’ve spent countless hours on bathroom floors and wasted days afterwards recovering.

 

Yes, I still drink, though I’m more responsible with it.  A glass of red wine with some steak?  Yes, please.  A cocktail with friends on Friday night?  I’m in.  A margarita and a chimichanga?  Sign me up.  Beer and BBQ?  Save me a seat.  Don’t get me wrong, I still make errors in judgment and am far from having a clean record of sobriety.  While I’m not an alcoholic, I know all too well the pain and misery that it can cause.  Truthfully, alcohol scares me.

It scares me because it’s held many family members in its grasp and caused untold amounts of pain and grief, and I know it can easily do the same for me.  It scares me because as a child I heard my dad spend too many hours helping people sober up in our kitchen late at night.

It scares me because of my addictive personality – if I like something, I’m going to keep doing it, no matter how good or bad it is for me – and alcohol can take me quickly.  It scares me because I have friends who can’t conquer alcohol, and all I can do is sit back and wait for them to hit rock bottom before I can do anything.

I’m not opposed to alcohol.  I’m opposed to letting it rule one’s life.  I’m opposed to using it as a crutch.  I’m opposed to using it as a game.  I’m opposed to needing it.

As easy as it is to open up a bottle, it’s just as easy to lose control and have it run you over.  I get it, I know it, I’ve seen it.  Our lives are meant for so much more than what a beverage can give us.  We have so much more courage than what we may think we gain with a glass or two.  We are much better people than who we perceive we are when we’re drunk.  We’re so much more than what alcohol makes us think we are.

May God give us mercy when we over-do and may we learn from our mistakes.  May God give us clarity to see when we have a problem and the courage to conquer it.  May God give us strength as we love those in the clutches of alcoholism.

much love. sheth.

 

If you think you need help, talk to a trusted friend, co-worker, pastor, or family member.  If that’s too much, check out Alcoholics Anonymous, SMART Recovery, or Women For Sobriety to see how they can help you find a meeting nearby.

If someone you know or someone you love is struggling with alcohol, there are resources out there for you, too.  Check out Al Anon or Alcohol.org for more guidance.

Truth: Social Media

by ShethChristianity / Friends / Life / Love / Relationships / Seminary / Social Media / Truth Tuesday1 Comment on Truth: Social Media

I am not a good user of Facebook.  I don’t often update my photos, and when I do I usually delete the old photo.  I don’t change my status – lately it’s just been links to my blog.  I rarely ‘like’ someone’s posts and I even more rarely comment on them.  I don’t send friend requests, I don’t click on ads, I don’t follow social media stars, and I rarely join groups.  I am the poster-child for poor social media presence.

My lack of use is partially because I don’t really care to do any of it, and part of it is because I don’t see the point in it – especially with commenting.  I am amazed at the number of people who choose to comment on Facebook posts and it intrigues me when a comment is made on a post that has zero connection to the commenter.  When I’m scrolling through Facebook I may see a picture and think, Ha! That is true! or Well, that’s completely false.  Rarely do I stop, pull up my keyboard, and go to town on the various points as to why it’s a lie or why it made me laugh.

A few months back a friend of mine posted about how he was feeling diminished as a person and people still treated him horribly even though he has just as many rights as the next individual.  Because it’s just a thing I do, I wanted to uplift and encourage him, so I offered words of hope and reminded him that he is valued and cherished.

As with most Facebook postings, someone commented on my comment and said that my words weren’t necessary because our mutual friend already knew these things.  This person went on to say that it was a larger issue and work needed to be done to fix the problems that perpetuate people’s thinking about race, culture, and ethnicity.  They tried to engage me several times to discuss their points and why I was incorrect.

I just wanted to be nice to my friend.

While I wanted to offer some encouragement, both me and my comment were both mowed down by calls against systemic racism and perpetual injustices.  While yes, we do need to stand up against these things, I know that I wasn’t wrong in my initial comment.  My friend needed to be reminded of who he is and that he is valued.

 

There are a few things I’m taking away from this situation:

  1. I need to recognize and acknowledge that some people are going to want to argue, no matter what. They’re always going to be holding up the banners against injustice, against tyranny, against systemic issues, no matter the context or discussion.  We need those people in this world and I need to help those people use their skills in real-life communications.
  2. I have a valuable part in this work. While I am not the up-front talker, I can be the behind-the-scenes person who supports others and I’m just as valuable as they are.  I don’t have to march, protest, or argue all the time – especially if it’s not what I’m good at.  But I should do what I can to help people who are good at those things.
  3. Words of encouragement are always – always – helpful and necessary.

It’s easy to get on social media to call out wrongs and argue away at the issues.  It’s much more difficult to hold our tongues and scroll on by.  I think it would benefit us all if we did the latter, and I think it would be even better if we chose to have those discussions in person.  May God give us patience with one another, may we know when to speak up, and above all else, may we always love and encourage one another.

much love. sheth.

Truth: Not Enough.

by ShethChristianity / Friends / Life / Loneliness / Love / Seminary / Truth Tuesday1 Comment on Truth: Not Enough.

This past week I spent a few days at the Mount Carmel Retreat Center in Dallas, partially for my Spirituality class and partially for personal reasons.  The truth is I’ve been struggling with feeling like I’m not ‘enough’ – not good enough, smart enough, lovable or loving enough, wise enough, holy enough, worthy enough, generous enough.  My feelings of ‘not-good-enough’ have kept me at arm’s length from God, from my family and friends, from my schoolwork and relationships because if I’m not ‘enough’ then what’s the point in continuing on with them?

I felt I had to be faultless and flawless before I could go to God, and I had to be the most Christian of Christians in order to maintain the relationship.  I had to be the absolute and ideal son for my parents.  I had to be the unequivocal and unmatchable boyfriend.  I had to be the matchless and impeccable friend.

I’ve burned more than my fair share of bridges because of this feeling of not being enough.  I’ve ended relationships, dropped out of courses, cut off friendships, and tip-toed around God because I didn’t think I was enough.  While I’ve wanted to be married, have close friendships, and a close walk with God, I’ve turned tail and ran because I didn’t think I was able to reach these self-perceived expectations of being ‘enough’.

As I spent these past few days in the silence of the monastery I came to the realization that I am, honestly, not good enough. And I’ll never be good enough.  I’m never going to be the perfect son, boyfriend, or friend.  I’m never going to be the best student, pastor, or Christian.  I’m never going to be the most giving, generous, and kind person.

My not enough is, in fact, enough.

In my journal, I scribbled down this letter to myself:

Seriously, Sheth, God loves you.  You!  Not the impostor, not the poseur, not the image you try to maintain.  God loves you in your broken, faulty, sinful, unkempt, messiness.  God sees through the falsehood (and hopes you will, too) and knows that that Sheth is the true Sheth.  You don’t have to be perfect to receive God’s love.  You don’t have to have everything in order and your life looking pretty.  You don’t have to be enough for God to love you completely.  God loves you, Sheth.

I know it’s difficult to fathom…it’s hard to comprehend…and frankly a little terrifying.  But it’s the truth.  You’ve had moments when you felt it and knew this truth, but you ran away from it because it’s so beyond your knowledge and understanding.  But somehow you can just know it, believe it, and revel in it’s goodness.

Sure, it’s terrifying on one hand to know that God loves you – God who created all, who can destroy all, who is everywhere, every time, always – God loves you.  That’s scary.

But on the other hand it’s comforting to know that God loves you – you…a bit on this earth, a mere blip on the timeline…as small and insignificant as you are, Sheth, God loves you…you!  You!  God knows you and loves you!

Moments will come (probably tomorrow) when you don’t feel loved, when you don’t feel lovable, when you don’t feel like you’re enough for any of it.  Nonetheless, God loves you still.  No matter what you do or how you act or where you go, God will not stop loving you.

Sheth…I hope you can understand this…I mean, truly in your heart of hearts understand this: God loves you.

I’m not enough – and I never will be enough – and that’s okay.  I don’t need to be enough for God to love me.  I don’t need to be enough for my family to love me.  I don’t need to be enough for my girlfriend, my friends, or my professors to love me.  All I need to be is me – the real me, the true me, the not-enough Sheth who will relish the love and affection that is poured on me.

May we know that God loves who we are, where we are, and desires to be with us.  And may we realize each day that our not-enough is enough.

much love. sheth.