Holding Out for a Hero

"You're supposed to be the heroine of your own life!" -Kate Winslet, "The Holiday"

A hero is a man who is afraid to run away. -English proverb

I read Jane Austen's Emma for the first time when I was 14 and promptly fell head-over-heels in love with Regency-era and Victorian literature. In fact, it was the genre I studied almost exclusively as a long-skirt-and-sweater-coat-wearing English major in college. I love the stories, and not just the romance part - because everyone knows, they only get together right at the very end! - but even more so, the story of growth and maturity and self-realization that the heroine ultimately has to go through in order to get to her happily-ever-after ending. (My I-Sound-Smart moment of the day: this type of story is called a bildungsroman in literary theory. Look at me making good use of that tuition money, Mom & Dad!)

There are many female characters in Jane Austen's books, but only one is the heroine (with the arguable exception of Sense & Sensibility). What is it that makes her different from the others? Is she the most beautiful? The most graceful? The richest? The most talented?

Nope. In fact, never.

What makes her different is that she changes. All the other female characters pretty much stay the same throughout the story. None of them are perfect, but for that matter, neither is the heroine - not by a long shot. But it's her story, and to get to the end of it, she has to grow up. Jane Austen spends hundreds of pages pounding on Elizabeth and Emma and Elinor (and Marianne) until they become women of substance - the women they need to be to step into their futures.

She humbles them. She smacks them around. She pulls the rug out from under them multiple times. She keeps on hurling things at the general vicinity of their heads until they learn to react in ways that they wouldn't have in the beginning of the book: with grace, and humility, and forgiveness, and gratefulness. Until they learn. Until they become heroines.

When I think about , oh, the last five years or so of my own life, I have to admit, that sounds pretty familiar. And I'm sure God's not done with me yet. Living like a heroine is often a minute-by-minute process at which it's so easy to fail in any one of those minutes...and in which I do fail, quite frequently. Praise God, with Him, it's the effort that counts, because otherwise, I'd be sunk.

Here's something I just recently realized, though - in Jane Austen's novels, it's not just the heroine's story - it's the hero's, too.

None of the heroes in Jane Austen's novels were perfect, either. They weren't knights in shining armor who galloped onto the scene and swept the heroine off of her feet once she was worthy of his attentions - heavens, no! In fact, all of them were downright non-heroic in the beginning. Edward Ferrars and Colonel Brandon were both passive and gutless. Mr. Knightley was a condescending lecturer. Darcy was perhaps the worst - pompous and emotionally unavailable. And these men were the heroes of their love stories.

There's always a moment in Jane Austen's novels when we're not quite sure who the hero is actually going to be. We think we know, but we keep reading because we're not positive. It's up in the air because the title of hero is not absolutely nailed down from the beginning of the story - it's up for grabs by the man who is willing to swallow his pride, to be vulnerable to the heroine, and to admit his faults and grow up. And there's a moment in each of the books when it could be either of the men in the heroine's life, because the hero is simply going to be the man who steps up when the other runs away.

Wickham could have easily been the hero of Pride and Prejudice. He had the wit and charisma that women love in men, but he was also selfish and immature and only out for what he could get - ultimately, validation. Now, honestly, those are not uncommon nor insurmountable flaws. The reason he's not the hero is because he stayed that way. Darcy could easily have been the villain, lost in his own pride and trapped behind his (also quite common, and, ahem, maddening) emotional walls. Frankly, he wasn't very likable throughout the whole book - who could forget his scathing line of, "She is tolerable, I suppose, but not handsome enough to tempt me."? Ouch. That's practically unforgivable (and part of Elizabeth's lessons in becoming a heroine was to learn how to forgive him). But he did change. He made a choice - he chose to sacrifice that pride and be the hero.

Stepping into the role of hero can't be easy. Neither Elizabeth nor Emma nor Marianne were quiet, demure, shrinking wallflowers. They weren't Jane Bennets or Harriet Smiths. It would have certainly been a more peaceful existence for Darcy if he had married his boring cousin, or easier for Knightley if he'd just stayed a brother-like figure to Emma. They could have kept their distance and not gotten involved in the depth and the mess that is the heroine. But for them, that mess was worth it. Stepping up was worth it. Sacrificing their pride was worth it. All of it was worth it, in the end, because now they would get to spend the rest of their lives with the heroine, and because she's the heroine, she's worth the effort.

At the beginning of the books, it wouldn't have been worth it and they wouldn't have done it. She wasn't ready and neither was he. But then they were molded and shaped and pounded on by the author of their story, and by the end, they both had to make the choice. Without that choice, she wouldn't have been the heroine and he wouldn't have been the hero. But because they did, they are.

You're supposed to be the heroine of your own life. I won't scruple to say that I'm still learning, every day, what that really means. And because I believe in the Author of my own story, I have faith that He is teaching both me and the future hero of my life, too, how to fulfill the destiny that He has written for us together.

I can promise one thing - he'll never be bored!

It's been quite a decade.

In the past ten years, I:

-got my first job, which, unbeknownst to me, would play a large hand in saving my life at the time, and also enable me to make wonderful, close friendships that I never would have otherwise
-got my first car, which I would later drive up and down the "strip" at college sorting out the many and complicated emotions of my early-20's-redheaded-girl-brain
-overcame deep, eroding depression with God's mercy and grace
-fell in love for the first time with an English musician - the first man I've ever felt could really understand me
-directed and produced a dinner theatre for my high school senior project, which got rave reviews and even a letter in the local newspaper
-graduated from high school
-left home and moved (gasp!) three hours away to college
-met a (then) rather abrasive, strong-willed girl from Long Island who would become my very best friend
-discovered in college that there are other people in the world who thought and saw the world in the same way I did - who knew?
-met a professor who opened my mind to the wonders of Victorian literature and who changed my whole outlook on life just by believing in me
-became the first person in my family to live in another country when I studied abroad in Lancaster, England
-heard the very voice of God during that year in England, and have continued to hear Him since then
-was forced to let go of my first love and had to trust God that He knew best, despite my broken heart
-returned to the States and spent a spiritually charged senior year of college, working harder than I ever have at anything to get into graduate school
-wrote a television pilot and performed a scene from it with my best friend for all the professors I looked up to at my university, as well as my family
-graduated from college with a BA in English and writing
-left the country again, this time to move to London to pursue a Master's degree
-spent the most incredibly difficult, yet faith-building and life-changing year in London that I could have possibly imagined
-cried at the beauty of it all as I walked from Piccadilly Circus to Trafalgar Square and back again
-worked with an Oscar winner as my own personal tutor and met many famous writers, directors, and producers in London
-spent a day on a film set with the producer of my favorite UK sitcom
-wrote several feature film scripts, a short film, and expanded my television series
-started this blog
-graduated with a MA in Screenwriting and Producing for Film and Television from the best media university in the UK
-moved to Raleigh, North Carolina at God's prompting
-deepened my friendship with my best friend and her husband to the point where they are now my family
-happened into a church that would change my heart, my life, and (any day now) my denomination
-found that what I really love doing is directing plays, and started a drama team in my church which has, to my own delight and amazement, affected the lives of the people there in ways I never could have even dreamed up myself
-became a mom to an adorable, affectionate, mischevious toy poodle whom I couldn't live without
-prayed specific verses from the Bible over someone for the first time in my life, and spent the following months in awe as every prayer was faithfully answered
-was dismissed from a job for which I was vastly overqualified and experienced the most humiliating 15 minutes of my life walking from my former office to my car with everything I'd had at my desk stuffed into about five plastic grocery bags because it was so unexpected
-learned how to first get the love I need from God, then how to sacrifice my pride and give love without expecting anything in return
-went through the most bitter crisis of faith I've ever had during five wretched months of unemployment and was ready to turn my back on God, but then He came through as He always does in the final countdown
-started a job in which the pay is less than I'd like and the job itself is challenging, but where I am actually appreciated by my supervisors, and that makes all the difference
-discovered that love is not a feeling, but a choice, and even though fighting for someone can be heart-wrenchingly difficult and requires the kind of strength only God can give, frankly, it's still incredibly stupid to not choose it

All in all, I grew up.

And if I spent the last decade being molded and shaped and, yes, pounded on quite a bit by God, here's hoping that this next one will progress with me taking all the lessons He shoved at me in the past ten years and moving forward, ready to do His will and further His kingdom in every area of my life.

Here I am, Lord. Send me.

Fill 'er Up!

And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds. Let us not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another - and all the more as you see the Day approaching. Hebrews 10:24-25

Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience. Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues, put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity. Colossians 3:12-14

The times during the week when I whine to God most, pretty much every week like clockwork, are Saturday night and Sunday morning before church. That's because I know I'm going to have to go to church and there are, like, people there. And while these people are all people I love, several of them are also people with whom I have very deep, emotionally intimate, and, yes, complicated relationships. Because that's what relationships are - well, real ones, anyway.

I live alone and work from home. As soul-crushingly lonely as my solitude can get sometimes (usually roundabout Friday night is when it really hits me), sometimes it would be easier to just hide away in my apartment with my poodle than put forth the effort of seeing people every Sunday morning. Because relationships take effort.

But God will just never, never, ever let me stay home. Or give up, for that matter.

One Sunday morning a few weeks ago, as I was begrudgingly getting into the shower, I was being particularly petulant:

"God, I don't want to go to church today! I don't want to see anyone! I am not feeling special! I am not feeling loved!"

"Well, that's not really the point, is it?" God shot back.

"What?"

"You want love? You've got it. Right here. I've got all the love to give you that you'll ever be able to stand. You come to Me to get your love, and then you give it to other people. That's the point." He let that sink in for a second. Then He said, "Now get moving."

I mean, He was Very Firm about this. I feared a lightning bolt from the sky if I didn't keep getting ready for church, and Heaven knows you don't want to be hit by lightning when you're in the shower.

And, truth be told, I knew that already.

If God has taught me anything this year, it's that pride is way overrated. Self-sacrifice will get you much further in relationships than being self-righteous. Don't be afraid to be vulnerable. If God tells you to, don't even be afraid to look stupid. A second of teetering out on the ledge is nothing compared to the absolute joy that comes with the healing of a broken relationship and the crumbling of emotional walls.

And even if you do fall, so what? The God of the universe is there to catch you.

I can tell you, though, I can't do it by myself. I don't have enough love or patience or energy in me to give what is required to make all of my messy, complicated, deep, rich, wonderful relationships work. Often, if I had a choice, I'd stay curled up in bed with my poodle, whose only requirement for loyalty is that I pet her and don't let her starve. But then I'd miss out on oh, so very much.

The secret is just what God spoke to me that Sunday morning - and what He constantly reminds me when I'm feeling wrung out or worn out or at the end of my emotional tether - that He has all the love I'll ever need. He is love. He has to fill me up first, and only then can I give love to everyone else.

Without Him, I have nothing in me to give. With Him, I have all the love in the world to give - and there's always more where it came from.

And all the effort - the vulnerability, the self-sacrifice, the climbing out on a limb and shakily stretching out your hands - is so totally worth it.

Facing Our Giants

David said to the Philistine, "You come against me with sword and spear and javelin, but I come against you in the name of the LORD Almighty, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied. This day the LORD will hand you over to me, and I'll strike you down and cut off your head. Today I will give the carcasses of the Philistine army to the birds of the air and the beasts of the earth, and the whole world will know that there is a God in Israel. All those gathered here will know that it is not by sword or spear that the LORD saves; for the battle is the LORD's, and he will give all of you into our hands."

As the Philistine moved closer to attack him, David ran quickly toward the battle line to meet him. Reaching into his bag and taking out a stone, he slung it and struck the Philistine on the forehead. The stone sank into his forehead, and he fell facedown on the ground. 1 Samuel 17:45-49

We all have giants in our lives. They're mean, sniveling, mocking, huge, seemingly insurmountable obstacles. And the worst thing is, they're usually not great big, muscle-bound bullies threatening to kill us - instead, they're parasites within us, parasites of fear or doubt or insecurity, those parts about ourselves that we hate more than anything else that trap us in our own personal prisons and keep us from experiencing the fullness of life that God has for us.

Most of our giants are our very selves.

I can tell you, mine certainly is. The most insidious, loathsome, ever-present giant in my life is crippling, suffocating insecurity. Worthlessness. The feeling that I am never good enough. I feel as if I'm never going to be good enough - pretty enough, funny enough, graceful enough - for a man to really love me. I'm never going to be a good enough writer to merit anyone giving me a chance to write professionally. I'm never going to be a good enough friend to make people want to stick around when they inevitably find out that I'm not perfect in one way or another. What it all boils down to is that I feel like I am quite simply not worth the effort. And as hard as I try, I'm never going to be.

This giant spreads its venom into every area of my life, causing me to panic, to get defensive and self-protective, and, often, to ruin what could have been a really lovely experience by allowing my insecurity to take control. It's devastating for me every single time it happens, and yet I feel powerless to stop it. Probably because I am.

Oh, I've tried many times to conquer this, to just muster up some kind of self-esteem or confidence, but it never lasts, because it's all my own invention. I think I can solve it myself, can tackle this giant on my own, and set about trying to just fix it because it needs fixing and I'm ruining my own life, for crying out loud, this has to stop!

But it never works when I just try to fix it on my own, and I always end up right back in the same place, crying myself to sleep, crying out of self-inflicted loneliness, crying out to God for help.

All I have are tiny little pebbles and my giant laughs in my face, just like Goliath did to David.

Here's the thing, though: it wasn't really the rock that felled Goliath. It was God honoring David's faith.

David took that little stone in his hand and he believed that God could do it. He knew he couldn't do it by himself. He walked up to Goliath with full confidence not in himself, but in his Lord.

I think we can all learn from David's example, that the best way to face your giant is to take a deep breath, clutch your slingshot, march out there, stare that giant straight in the eye and just lob your pebble at him as hard as you can. The key is not your angle or your precision or the force of your strength or the size of your rock. It's simply that you took the first step.

God will do the rest.

In Spite of Ourselves

I'm in Applebees tonight, enjoying a half-priced appetizer and some much-needed time with my very neglected writing tablet. Sitting across from me, at the next table, is a forty-something woman in a faux-fur, leopard print vest and a short jeans skirt, her hand on the arm of her cowboy-hat-and-boot-wearing companion. They've been deep in conversation since I sat down ten minutes ago.

As I was scribbling something in my tablet, they suddenly burst out into simultaneous laughter, causing me to start and look up from my (obviously) extremely deep thoughts. Shortly thereafter, the man got up and sort of tottered on his boot-heels to the bathroom. Ms. Wild Kingdom stayed at the table, staring out into nowhere, a giddy yet completely contented smile on her face. She glanced down at her hands, then back up absently at the window, her smile deepening as she thought about what had just happened. While he was gone, she played with her drink, ran her fingers through her hair, and straightened her vest, but her smile never faded.

I know exactly how she feels.

It's fascinating to watch two people do this dance. Sharing stories. Trying out witticisms. Leaning in to understand. Nodding appreciatively. Delighting in each other's laughter. I like you, do you like me?

And hoping against hope that the answer is yes.

With these two, at least, it seems obvious.

The funny thing is, these two people probably wouldn't fit this well with anyone else in the world. The woman obviously dressed up for this evening, but I wouldn't be caught dead in a furry, leopard-print vest. Maybe she's a little bit wild, a little bit challenging, and he's just the cowboy she needs to keep up with her and reign her in. Maybe he's stubborn, bucking stereotypes and challenging rules, and she has just the right amount of firecracker in her to match him and give him a run for his money. Maybe this is the first time in their lives that they've felt this way. Maybe neither of them ever imagined they'd find someone who fit with them this perfectly.

Maybe this woman's been waiting her whole life to wear her furry, leopard-print vest and stare into her drink grinning like an idiot while her date is in the bathroom at Applebees.

I know exactly how she feels.

I know this post isn't particularly funny, nor does it offer anything really profound about God, but it was right there in front of me tonight, so I felt like I had to write about it.

Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life. Proverbs 13:12

Love is like hope. And we keep on hoping in spite of ourselves. -Steve Dublanica, Waiter Rant

The Song I Didn't Expect to Make Me Cry

I went to a Rob Thomas concert last week (that's the concert I was talking about in my previous post), and my goodness, it was absolutely incredible. Rob is my favorite recording artist and hearing him peform his songs live that I know and love so much was a wonderful, moving, and emotional experience. I expected my response to be that way for the songs that I already loved, like "Cradlesong," "Someday," and "Her Diamonds."

And then there was this song, "Ever the Same," from his 2005 album "Something to Be." I've heard this song so many times before (on the album, it comes right after "Lonely No More" with its amazing bridge lyrics) and until that night I'd thought it was pretty good, yet not really one of my favorites or anything. I don't know why, I can't really explain it, but when he sang this song that night last week, something about the music and the lyrics and the hush that fell over the crowd and the way he sang and standing in that ampitheatre and where I am now in my life and everything that's happened in the last weeks and months and year came together, and quite unexpectedly, I just started crying.



Thank you, Rob Thomas, for that song, and thank you, God, for giving me the opportunity to hear it. It was just what I needed.

Surprising Symphonies

In his heart a man plans his course, but the LORD determines his steps. Proverbs 16:9

Two years ago, I never could have imagined.

Two years ago, I drove down from my hometown in Pennsylvania to visit my best friends who'd just gotten married and made their new home in Raleigh. I went to a concert at the Koka Booth Amphitheatre in Cary. I drove there myself, white-knuckled but determined. I sat on the lawn, pressed up against the iron fence that separated us in the "general attendance" from the people with real seats. I spent most of the concert praying. And God spoke to me there, that night, through the humidity and the screaming fans and my paranoia that my straightened hair would be, like, totally ruined - He spoke. He said, "Move here. Now."

I thought I knew why. I thought I knew what I was getting into. More than that, I thought this was just going to be a stopping point along the way to my ultimate destination - Los Angeles and a career as a screenwriter, with my own sitcom. I'd be fulfilled, content, happy - at the pinnacle of my career. It was a plan! Raleigh was just a minor distraction - time to spend with my friends, time to write, time to prepare. It wasn't supposed to matter. It wasn't supposed to change my life.

I could never have imagined that God would use Raleigh, and, even more so, a little Southern Baptist church with no more than 60 people in it at any given time, to grow me up in ways I didn't even know I needed to grow.

But He did. It has. Unbelievably so. And oh, my goodness, did I need to grow.

When I was younger, I used to sit in church and look at the people around me and wonder how they could all bear to lead such mundane lives. My parents worked hard to provide for us, but all I could see was the structure and the schedules and the stress, the minivan and the complaints about their coworkers and the feeling that they'd given up on their dreams. I vowed that my life would never be like that, controlled by other people doing what I didn't want to do. I wouldn't be fenced in by a small town or a 9-5 job - not me! I couldn't look forward to a life where the highlight of the year would be a five-day vacation to Busch Gardens.

This is not to say my childhood or my family was perfect, but there was so much that I couldn't see.

I remember lying in bed at night listening to my parents whispering and laughing together from their bedroom through the wall. It didn't even dawn on me to notice how close they were, and how much that really mattered. I didn't realize how much my mother supported my father when he was working towards his Ph.D., or that he was, in turn, working that much to support her and me and my younger sister. I got tired of listening to them talk about their jobs - both in the same school district, my goodness, the discussions were endless - when really they were (mostly) building each other up in love. To me, their lives were dull and monotonous - I couldn't see how much of a difference they were both making in the schools, my father as a principal and my mother as a counselor. I didn't recognize that hundreds of kids' lives were changed - possibly even saved - by the work they did. I thought it was all just dreadfully boring.

I couldn't see it, but their life together was - and still is - a meaningful and exciting adventure.

When I moved to Raleigh two years ago, it was big and scary and exciting, but if I'm being honest, it wasn't for adventure. It was more of an escape from my parents’ house and from my tiny Pennsylvania town. As I said, I thought this was just a stopping point, a place to bide my time. I was in full-on waiting mode - waiting to get good enough, waiting to get to LA - waiting for my life to really start.

God led me to start a drama team in the church my friends and I happened to sort of fall into (heh, like one ever really “falls into” anything when God is involved) about a month after I moved - I thought, to simply get better at directing and writing for the stage, to prepare me for Hollywood. It was just a little church, after all - hardly anyone would even see the plays we performed. It wouldn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things.

I was fully prepared to bide my time - that my time here would be doing just that, and nothing else. What else was going to happen to me in Raleigh, North Carolina?

But let me tell you, I have never had to fight for anything harder in my life.

Ever since I moved, it’s been an uphill battle. I’ve fought to continue living down here, through three jobs and three apartments. I’ve fought loneliness, depression, heartbreak, and spiritual ridicule. I’ve believed for something that it seemed ridiculous to believe for – many things, actually - including something as simple as mere survival on my own, and as complicated as relationships that God just won’t let me give up on no matter how much I may beg Him on a weekly basis to let me throw up my hands and throw in the towel.

It’s been a whole lot of fighting for just a stopping point…and that’s probably because I’ve come to realize that, duh, it’s not just a stopping point.

This is life. It’s happening now, and it’s been happening the last two years that I’ve been here in Raleigh. It’s partly been a time of preparation, yes, but for an adventure far more unexpected and yet more real than anything I ever dreamed up sitting in the pew at church as a little girl. It has also been a time of intense spiritual growth, close friendships, seeing the fruit of the Spirit, watching God work, and, more than anything else, learning how to trust in more powerful and necessary ways than ever before.

All of this has made me realize that the greatest scheme of all is simply doing God’s will in my life, every single day. It’s about letting God speak through me in whatever capacity He chooses to affect the people around me and bring them closer to Him. It’s about allowing Him to use me, use what He’s put in me, to show Himself. And it’s not about where I am or even really what I’m doing, but it’s about the people that I’m close to, the people that I’m with and the relationships I have, that make life an adventure even in the most seemingly mundane of circumstances.

Even just within a little Southern Baptist church with no more than 60 people in it at a time…God can and will work. He will work through me. He will work miracles. He will heal, change, restore, and love.

I may never get to LA, and honestly, it doesn’t really matter to me anymore. I trust God. I know He has my life in His hands and He has a perfect plan for it. If I’ve learned anything this year, I’ve learned to trust Him and that He knows exactly what He is doing every step of the way.

On Monday night, I went back to the Koka Booth Amphitheatre to another concert. I went to see a different musician, and I am a totally different person than I was two years ago. The lyrics to songs I’ve heard since 2005 had new meaning. The artist's new songs from this summer had a poignancy they wouldn’t have had when I was first there. I cried at things I’d never have noticed before, and before the concert, during the sudden downpour that soaked all of us at the outdoor amphitheatre, I clung to my jacket that I held over my head to try to protect my perfectly curled hair (why does my hair always get ruined there?) and prayed in Jesus’ name that the rain would stop and that the concert would be able to continue. It did. Praise God.

And God spoke to me there, again. This time, instead of “Move. Now.” He said, “Just wait and see what I am going to do.”

Two years ago, shortly after I moved (right around this time, actually), He spoke to me during the first Homecoming service I attended at my church. He interrupted the sermon and kept repeating, “You can’t do it. I have to do it. Let me do it.” I thought I knew what He meant at the time. Turns out, He had an even greater plan for me than I thought He did.

Like I said, I’ve learned to trust God when He speaks. So I am - waiting, that is, to see what He is going to do.

Lord…it’s all Yours. Do it!!

What About Now?

In the morning, O LORD, you hear my voice; in the morning I lay my requests before you and wait in expectation. Psalm 5:3

Three weeks ago Tuesday, at approximately 6:15AM:

God: *poke*
Me: *sleeping*
God: Psst. Elisse!!
Me: Umpfh.
God: Elisse! Wake up!!
Me: God?? What is it??
God: Get up!!
Me: *yawns* *looks at the clock* *rolls back over*
God: ELISSE!! WAKE UP NOW!!
Me: Whyyy?
God: Because great things are about to happen! You can't keep sleeping when I have such wonderful things in store for you! I'm too excited to keep watching you sleep!!!
Me: But you've been telling me this for weeks!
God: I know!! Isn't it awesome?! So you have to get up!!
Me: When are these amazing things going to happen? Today?
God: Mayyyybe.
Me: Just tell me!
God: It's a surprise!
Me: I hate surprises!
God: I know - that's why I'm telling you that great things are going to happen!
Me: WHEN??
God: Soon!!
Me: Today?
God: Could be!
Me: Tomorrow?
God: You never know!
Me: This week?
God: If I told you, it would spoil the surprise!
Me: This isn't like that time last May when you told me something great was going to happen and I had to wait until January, is it?
God: And wasn't that totally worth it?
Me: That is SO not the point!
God: Didn't I time that perfectly and then do great and powerful things through it?
Me: Still not the point!
God: And didn't I remind you of that very thing JUST LAST MONTH so that you would believe me now when I keep saying that GREAT THINGS are going to happen?
Me: I don't see how that's relevant.
God: Didn't I know exactly what I was doing then?
Me: ...yes.
God: Don't I always know what I am doing?
Me: Well, you don't have to rub it in.
God: Well, obviously I do because you are NOT LISTENING TO ME. I'm telling you to GET UP and BE EXCITED because GREAT THINGS ARE GOING TO HAPPEN!!
Me: WHEN??
God: Geesh, you are high maintenance!
Me: What?! I can't believe my own God just called me high maintenance!
God: Well, I'm allowed! I made you!
Me: Well, then, YOU made me this way!
God: Touché.
Me: Ha!
God: And by the way, NO, your hair does not look like a chia pet at that length when you style it curly.
Me: What?!
God: I got sick of listening to you wonder about it for 12 hours straight yesterday instead of being excited about the GREAT THINGS THAT ARE GOING TO HAPPEN!!
Me: I am excited! YAY!!
God: Good!! That's more like it!!
Me: Y'know, I'd be even MORE excited if I knew WHEN these great things were going to happen...
God: *facepalm*
God: Have I ever lied to you?? Just TRUST ME!!

No, He has never lied to me. Three weeks later, He's only just starting to show me some of these great things, and I can tell they're definitely going to be worth the wait, so I am waiting...expectantly!

From the fullness of his grace we have all received one blessing after another. John 1:16

I'm Blue!

I just took the Color Code personality test while watching "Will & Grace" reruns on Lifetime and cuddling with my poodle, which I'm pretty sure makes me a total cliche, but the results were remarkably accurate, I have to say:

Definitely Blue

Congratulations, Elisse, you are a BLUE personality. The Core Motivation that drives you through life is "Intimacy". It is important to note that this does not mean sexual intimacy. BLUES need connection - the sharing of rich, deep emotions that bind people together. As a BLUE, you will often sacrifice a great deal of time, effort, and/or personal convenience to develop and maintain meaningful relationships throughout your life.

BLUES seek opportunities to genuinely connect with others, and need to be understood and appreciated, especially by their partner. Everything you do as a BLUE has to be quality-based, or you won't do it at all. You are incredibly loyal to friends, employers, employees, and above all to your significant other. Whatever or whomever you commit to is your sole (and soul) focus. As a BLUE, you love to serve and will give freely of yourself in order to nurture the lives of others.

BLUES have distinct preferences and are the most controlling of the four personalities, although they may not acknowledge (or even realize) the fact. Your code of ethics is remarkably strong and you expect others (not only your partner and those closest to you, but everyone) to live honest, committed lives as well. You enjoy sharing meaningful moments in conversation with your partner as well as remembering special life events (e.g. birthdays and anniversaries).

It's kind of creeping me out how true that all is.

Wanna take it too? You can find it here - you have to be, like, reflective and stuff, but it's fun!

Stream of Consciousness Post at 2AM...don't say I didn't warn you.

I am not myself right now...and if I'm being honest, I haven't really been, at least consistently, for weeks.

Oh, sure, I have an excuse - that whole unemployment thing. It's a "difficult time." I feel like people nearly wince when they approach me to ask about it because it's as if I'm walking around visibly bleeding all over the place.

But I don't want that to be an excuse. I have promises from God! I've been given so many encouraging words from Him, firsthand and through others! I don't want my circumstances to affect me - to change me - to make me someone I don't want to be.

God has been jumping around like a divine Mexican jumping bean for weeks, more excited than I've ever felt Him, about the wonderful things that He's going to do for me and in my life. He's given me words and then fulfilled them. He's given me countless signs and confirmations. He's even spoken audibly to me, saying, "I am going to do it!!"

And yet, still, I'm blocked. I'm frustrated. I can't write - I can barely speak! My mind is a vast wasteland, dry as the Old West with tumbleweeds rolling by (and, apparently, lame metaphors like that one). On the rare occasion I do think of something to say, it usually ends up being something bitingly sarcastic, and then I seem mean and horrible to everyone within earshot. Either that, or I'm just silent, and I sit like a jealous five-year-old, brooding and pouty as I watch others get to be witty and funny and light while I am the personification of epic failure. It turns me into the worst version of myself: insecure, panicky, and generally ~emo~...and not in the cool way, either, believe me.

I won't describe the several recent events that brought me to this conclusion, or the utter stupidity going on in my brain that caused me to nearly burst into tears as I was driving home from my friends' apartment tonight. But as it happened, and those old, familiar feelings of self-doubt and worthlessness came over me again, and as I finally came to the realization that this isn't me, I'm not myself, I'm beyond this, for crying out loud!...God spoke to me:

"You can either stay upset about this and dwell on it and make it that much worse, or you can ask Me to heal and restore your spirit and vivacity and humor...and make you you again."

I mean...which one would you choose?

I just hope He realizes the magnitude of what He offered to do, cause I am totally taking Him up on it, starting, like, right now.

The joy of the Lord is your strength. Nehemiah 8:10

Cosmically Cream-Pied, Best Friend Edition

My best friend and I have known each other for nearly eight years now - since we were freshmen in college. Suffice it to say that we've been through a lot together and we know each other quite well. While there are many more where these came from, I thought I'd share a few of the interchanges we've had over the past year or so.

As she's mercilessly beating me at a video game:
Her: A girl being good at video games automatically adds, like, five points in a guy's opinion.
Me: So that's why you're married and I'm not?
Her: Exactly.

***

Me: I hate my life!
Her: I hate your life too!

***

Needing boy advice, I asked her about her husband:
Me: How did you first tell him you were interested in him??
Her: I walked up and Frenched him.
Me: ...*blink*
Her: Well, you asked!

***

A recent instant-message conversation:
Me: I took Lottie to walk at Lake Lynn tonight
Me: it's frickin' GORGEOUS
Me: it's amazing
Me: and there are like 10 different kinds of water fowl
Her: wow
Her: you could say ducks and stuff, but you said water fowl

***

I think we'd both be different people without each other...at least, I know I would.

From One Redhead to Another

The king is enthralled by your beauty; honor him, for he is your lord. Psalm 45:11

An open letter to my dear friend, soul-sister, and fellow fiery redhead, Kayla:

You are lovely.

I truly don't know where I would be without you, and I don't even want to think about it. Your faith has been such an inspiration to me, and your energy and vivacity and tenacity have kept me both grounded and afloat more times than I can count. You are smart and passionate and spunky and you bring light and laughter and joy into the heart of our Daddy and Lord.

He loves you so very much. He delights in you. He is absolutely captivated by you. And He can't wait to show you how much He loves you and the amazing plans He has for your life. I am so excited for you in these future days and weeks - excited for you to spend such focused, intimate, intense time with Him. I know you will experience His love in a way that will leave your heart and your life changed forever.

And at the right time - in His perfect time - I pray that He brings the man that He has for you into your life - a man who will see you the way that our Daddy and Lord sees you, a man of morals and character and integrity who knows our God in the same powerful, personal, life-directing way that you do. I pray for God to bring you a man who will be able to meet you in faith and in passion, a man who will stand up and pray over you and your family in the name of Jesus because he knows how and he knows it will work. I pray for you a man who knows who he is in Christ and who is not only deep and mature in spirit, but, even more importantly, is a man of strength who is willing and eager to pursue you and fight for you every single day for the rest of your lives together. I am confident that our Daddy has created men like this for both of us - men after His own fierce, valiant, passionate heart, instilled with His dreams and called for His purpose, that He has created us to support and sow into and love with all the feistiness and pitbull faith that He has given both of us.

So, during this defining time in your life, let Him love you. Let Him prepare you for the wonderful future He has for you. Meet Him in this time, and cherish this solitude with Him. As He is preparing you, He will be preparing him too, and preparing your futures both separately and together. He will make it clear where you are to go and what you are to do next, in His will and with His blessing. The waiting may be hard, but it will be worth it.

I can't wait to hear all about what He speaks to you!

All my love,

Your big-soul-sister and friend,

Elisse

P.S. In light of our recent conversation - and speaking of heroes - I thought I'd show you why this one is right at the top of my Favorite Animated Movies list:

I KNOW, RIGHT? *grin*

Fascinating.

Ever since my friends dragged me (and by "dragged," I mean "invited me to go along and offered to pay") to the Star Trek movie on Memorial Day, I've been entrenched in a state of what some people would call "fangirling," but because I am actually remarkably self-aware, I am choosing to call "channeling my affection," about the film itself and also about a specific character. (When this sort of, ahem, reaction happens to you roughly 116 times over a span of oh, say, a quarter of a century, you tend to get pretty good at, ahem, pinpointing the emotion.)

And which character has captured my attention, you ask? Is it the dashing, brazen hero Kirk? The gruff but ruggedly handsome "Bones" McCoy? The impish and appropriately-accented Scotty? Heh, no. Instead, I have become totally intrigued by the smart, serious, withdrawn, dutiful, emotionally repressed yet somehow still intensely mysterious...Spock. Spock, the victim and yet victor of his Vulcan heritage, softened by his human mother, passionate in his quest for excellence, with flashes of depth that most people only pretend to fake, and my gosh what I wouldn't give to see him to smile just once...Spock.

Anyone who knows me at all will be totally unsurprised by this.

The only problem I had with the film was Spock's relationship with Uhura. It just seemed competely improbable to me that it would happen that easily. I mean, how did they even meet? Spock walks up to Uhura and goes, "Hi, I'm Spock. I'm Vulcan. Vulcans repress their emotions, so I have no idea how to express anything I'm feeling, ever. WANNA MAKE OUT?"

Pft. Right. Why don't we all just hop on a spaceship and fly to...oh wait.

What are they going to do for the next movie - get married and have a bunch of Vulcan-human kids running around Kirk's chair playing lasertag with the phasers?

I know, I know, I'm poking holes in the otherwise airtight logic of the Star Trek universe, but I'm just saying.

Plus, honestly, it's just (lest I offend my die-hard Trek-loving friends)...not-quite-stellar storytelling. It's instant gratification. We never see Spock struggle with realizing his feelings for Uhura, or her struggle with his inability to return her feelings for him as soon as she'd like. We don't get the thrilling sensation of longing glances or barely-missed opportunities or gazes held a little too long but then dropped in pitiable shyness or a sudden surge of stupidly stubborn pride. We don't get to yell "WHY CAN'T YOU SEE IT?!" at the screen and wait with baited breath until the day when these two characters, after months or years of drawn-out expectation, finally have a life-changing experience either together or separately and realize they can't live without each other and go running into each other's arms - walls broken down and hearts - even Vulcan - exposed at long last.

Perhaps I should remind myself that Star Trek is science fiction and not, in fact, a romantic comedy. It was not written by Jane Austen, nor is it a sitcom set in late 1990's Manhattan where the characters all hang out at Central Perk. Also, apparently, the central theme of Star Trek does not totally revolve around Spock learning how to understand and express his emotions. I mean, it's there, but there's, like, other stuff too.

But I bet it would reach a whole new audience of 21st-century Elizabeth Bennets if it was.

Oh look, something shiny!

My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. Psalm 73:26

Last night, I got home from watching a movie at my friends' apartment and checked my email before I went to sleep. Sitting there in my inbox was an outright rejection from a local business where I had applied only hours before to be a grant and contract writer. I'd seen the ad late yesterday afternoon on Craigslist and promptly added it to my now more than 60 job applications, getting very excited because I seemed to fit all of the qualifications and maybe someone would pay me to write!! Apparently, they did not feel the same way, and didn't even need to mull it over for more than four hours before sending me an email in return that, to summarize, read "Um, no."

It was 1AM. It was late and I was tired and it hit harder than it probably would have at, say, 1PM, but I got very down when I read the email and immediately decided to break out the streamers and punch for an all-out pity party. I clicked compose and was preparing to type out a group email to, like, EVERYONE I KNOW saying "WOE IS ME, PLEASE PRAY BECAUSE I AM DROWNING IN JOBLESS QUICKSAND"...but then Lottie started barking shrilly that she had to pee and I got distracted.

EVERYONE I KNOW is now breathing a collective sigh of relief and thanking God for tiny poodle bladders.

Now there's a sentence I bet you never thought you'd read.

Puppy Love

One year ago today, my mom and I picked up my new, tiny, black toy poodle puppy. She was barely a pound and sat, curled up and shaking, in my arms for the whole drive home from the breeder. I named her Charlotte Elisabeth and, two weeks later, took her from Pennsylvania back with me to my apartment in Raleigh.

Since then, Lottie and I have been through quite a year. She's been with me through three apartments, unemployment, a new job, a Christmas trip back to Pennsylvania, heartbreak, and job loss. She leapt out of my friend's arms, landed on the carpeted floor at the wrong angle, and broke her left front paw at four months old. She was in a cast for six weeks. She has met new people, new dogs, new situations. Through it all, she's slept in my bed, curled up beside me, every single night. She follows me into the bathroom. She's sleeping right next to me on the couch as I type this, nestled against my leg peacefully.

Ultimately, I've watched her grow up, from an adorably cute, mischevious, curious puppy into a bright, loyal, sweet, and affectionate (and still mischevious!) dog.

She has become my family. Because of her, I am never alone. When I cry, she jumps up into my lap and licks me. When I come home from being out, she gets so excited that she runs around at breakneck speed and jumps up on me, wanting me to pet her. It might be trite, but I love her more than I ever knew it was possible. Thank you, Mom and Dad, for giving me a family in this little dog.

Cosmically Cream-Pied

One Sunday, after church, a very nice older lady was talking to me:
Her: You're so pretty! You have such beautiful eyes! And lovely hair!
Me: *blushing* Thank you!
Her: So did I tell you about my cataract surgery?

***

Last night, I was alone on Saturday evening, which is quite normal as of late. My cell phone started vibrating, and despite not recognizing the number, I got all excited that someone was calling me on Saturday night, yay!:
Me: Hello?
Girl I Don't Know: I DROPPED MY IPOD IN THE COMMODE!
Me: Excuse me?
Girl: I said, I DROPPED MY IPOD IN THE COMMODE!!!
Me: I'm sorry...who is this?
Girl: Oh...I was trying to call Melissa.
*click*

***

Stay tuned for more, because this kind of thing happens to me all the time.

It's Funny Cause It's True

This post brought to you by Art Imitating My Life, Inc.

A Great Day for America

If you know me at all, you know that I adore Craig Ferguson, the Scottish-born host of CBS' Late Late Show - and today is his birthday! Happy birthday, Craig!

To celebrate, here's one of my favorite clips, from one of his monologues:



Brilliant!

NO WHINING FOR YOU!

Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life. Proverbs 13:12

I was having a "hope deferred" afternoon yesterday. I was worn out, wrung out, exhausted. I had absolutely no energy to believe anymore. Unemployment and a dwindling bank account and a non-ringing phone and the fact that I'm still in this situation got to me, and I wanted to just give up and resign myself to living in my parents' basement and working for minimum wage for the rest of my life in the tiny town where I grew up. Honestly, it would be a fate worse than death, but I didn't have the strength to care anymore. I felt completely and utterly defeated.

I was supposed to go to my best friend's choir concert that night, but yesterday afternoon, all I wanted to do for the rest of the evening was sit with my poodle in my lap and think about how awful my life had turned out to be. Sounds fun, right? I didn't want to see my best friend or her husband or any of the other people at the concert. Not even their promise of getting Chili's molten chocolate cake (aka, the Best Cake Ever Created) after the concert could tempt me out of my defeatist slump. I wanted to just be miserable.

So, naturally, I looked for people with whom I could possibly share the woe. I texted. I IMed. I called my sister. I called my best friend and asked her if she really cared if I went to the concert. Generally, I whined to anyone and everyone I could find.

But when I tried that, something very interesting happened - it was as if God was whine-blocking me at every turn! My sister tuned out my entire 20-minute sobfest and responded to it by asking me what to do about her own job situation. Neither of my two soul-sisters, Kayla and Kimberley, were even around for me to wail to, which left me in severe consternation. I texted a friend from church and she texted me back with an equally woeful complaint, which pretty much just stole my thunder. And when I called my best friend and was about to launch into a detailed rant about how bad everything is and why that was going to keep me from going to her concert...my phone beeped and it was the vocational rehabilitation agency calling to update me about their progress with my case.

By the time I hung up the phone, I was tired of whining. It was exhausting! Misery takes work, apparently. And if I'm going to put that much work into something...shouldn't it be to improve my life and keep me here, where I know God wants me?

When that thought popped into my head, I could feel God nodding emphatically. Finally, she gets it!

I know He is going to provide for me and come through for me and that I am going to see miracles very, very soon. I know He wants me here and He's going to keep me here. He's already shown me all of that many, many times over.

And so, it appears, there will be no more whining for me.

Do everything without complaining or arguing, so that you may become blameless and pure, children of God without fault in a crooked and depraved generation, in which you shine like stars in the universe as you hold on to the word of life—in order that I may boast on the day of Christ that I did not run or labor for nothing. But even if I am being poured out like a drink offering on the sacrifice and service coming from your faith, I am glad and rejoice with all of you. So you too should be glad and rejoice with me. Philippians 2:14-18

Oh, and also, Chili's molten chocolate cake is still the best cake ever created. Mmmm.

If Not For Your Grace

It's no exaggeration to say that this song has been a lifeline for me over the past few months. This version is calmer and more prayerful than the exhuberant, live, full-band worship version on the album, but it's still absolutely gorgeous - in fact, something about this version is even more moving than the one I normally listen to.

May it bless you as it has so richly blessed me.