An Open Letter to No One // Edification

we heart it  via Darling, be daring.

Unless you've been living...oh, I don't know, nowhere, then you've probably heard about the Miley circa the VMA's debacle. That, in conjunction with her gratuitously sexual music videos and photos and erratic behavior, have driven her to the forefront of the public eye.

Recently, artist Sinead O'Connor facebooked an open letter to Miley Cyrus in which she describes how she is "extremely concerned for [Miley]" and blathers on about how Cyrus is being pimped, she is not caring for herself, she should use her talent instead of her sexuality, so on and so forth. Millions of people all over the interwebs have heralded O'Connor as some sort sort of martyr and mother figure for her deep-seated compassion and thoughtful advice to the younger artist.

Pardon my french, but I call bullsh*t.

A very public and open facebook post is NOT the appropriate forum to mentor or speak truth to a person in need. I find it troubling that so many people think that it is. (And based on Cyrus' defensive and questionable reaction, I would call into question its efficacy as well.)

I don't want to focus on the tabloid, star-studded, gossip-y controversy (i mean i totally do, but not right now), but rather the mentality driving a lot of the public response.

There are two very basic things we need to call out here:

•  If someone needs guidance or counsel that you are in a position to provide, a discrete and personal conversation will go a lot further in demonstrating your concern and compassion. Leave loud public announcements and open letters (that are really more about you and your highly publicized "compassion") behind. It seems a little Pharisaical, don't you think?

 If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault, between you and him alone. If he listens to you, you have gained your brother. 
Matthew 18:15

•  All guidance and advice should come from a place of love.

Let all that you do be done in love. 
1 Cor 16:14

...Knowledge makes arrogant, but love edifies. If anyone supposes that he knows anything, he has not yet known as he ought to know.
1 Cor 8:1-2

How do we ensure that we are speaking out of love?

I would humbly suggest that we look at our relationship with the person to whom we are speaking. Do you have any actual knowledge about this person's life or struggles? Have you truly lived life with them? Been there when they've hurt, rejoiced when they've rejoiced? Have you built a foundation for a conversation, not a lecture? Preaching at someone is not loving. Building a sincere and genuine two-way relationship, one in which you listen and talk, is.

I've been a person in need of guidance and instruction. I've been entrenched in sin and had people speak Truth to me. But the advice and support that's meant the most has been given by people who loved me well. The ones who held their hand out when I was in need, who rejoiced with me in my blessings, and intentionally invested in my life...it's never been the ones who arrogantly step in only to  counsel and then step out again.

To the self-righteous open letter writers, to the people who are professional hand-shakers and five-minute conversation-havers in between the pews, to the Sunday School classmates who collect prayer requests like Pokemon cards but never follow up:

Just because you have an opinion doesn't mean it's your place to say it.

Counsel and advice should always be rooted in Love, and Love requires investment. 

Ok, that's my last open letter.

-bRob

If You Fail, I Won't Point and Laugh

Merry Christmas
from our house to yours

On a note unrelated to anything, I'm going to tell you what frustrates me.

Do you ever express worry or concern about an upcoming something you have to do, only to be told, "Oh, you'll be just fine" ?

For instance, "I have a really difficult final next Monday. It's going to be bad."
"You'll be just fine. I have absolute faith in you."

Well, that makes one of us. Seriously, though, I know this is the most ridiculous pet peeve on earth, but when someone assures me I will be so fine and I couldn't possibly screw something up that badly, it makes me that much more tense.

Because what happens if I actually do mess up? Will this non-doubter suddenly be disgusted or dismayed by my performance? Will he or she rethink every positive thought he or she ever thought about me? Something alone the lines of, "Wow. Maybe bRob isn't on her game at all."

When someone brushes off the possibility of failure so cavalierly [and we always do], it terrifies me. If the idea of my failure is so inconceivable, what does it say about me if I do fail?

So here is a harsh brick of truth for you. You might do wrong. You might mess up. You might screw something up terribly. You will not always land the job, get the A, or win the election for historian of your favorite club.

But guess what? I will not judge you for that. Even if it makes no sense how you messed up so badly, I will still think you are an incredible person [assuming I felt that way to begin with...]. You may get down on yourself, but I won't. You're still you, and bombing something terribly, while embarrassing, will not change that.

And not to Jesus-juke you...
but almost certainly to Jesus - juke you...

Jesus will love you too. You can do the dumbest, most twisted thing on earth, and He will not change His mind about you. You're still God's awesome, beautiful child.

And if you are a cavalier "Nah, you'll do just fine"-sayer, maybe try saying something like "You will probably do just fine. But even if you don't and you do really really terribly and it's just embarrassing, it won't matter to me one bit."

Or am I being ridiculous?

Maybe. It's kind of a thing I sometimes do.

Outtakes from a failed Christmas shoot

-bRob

being honest

 When I sat down today for my usual procrastination blog, this wasn't what I had planned on posting. It just kind of came out.

I had a really strange experience today. I had to present my term project for this graduate course I'm in, and I went in feeling marginally confident. And then I saw everyone else's work. It was ten times better, seven times more functional, and 22.3 times cooler. Ok, it wasn't actually cool. We had to grade each others' projects, and I about gave one group a really bad score just because I was hungry and they kept talking on and on and I'd lost interest 2 minutes into their presentation. Anyways - as I watched all these project demonstrations far more elegant than mine, I started schlunking way down in my seat. I'm not used to bottoming out.

And then I began to feel self-conscious...but truth be told, it wasn't just about my project. Out of a class of about 25, I am one of three girls. Out of a class of 25, I am one of three American students. Out of a class of about 25, I am the only American girl. 

Never before have I felt so self-conscious about being American and female. I'm used to being the oddball female in an engineering class. And generally I play it up and go all, "anything he can do I can do better because I'm high on flower power!" or something.

But I suddenly began to wonder if everyone would think I'm stupid because I'm American. Would anyone take me seriously? I was even wearing a skirt. Did they judge me for that? I am also the youngest student in the class. And the thing of it is, maybe I wouldn't have felt so self-conscious if I'd had a flashier project.

But ... why did I feel the need to validate my nationality and gender and age by having the sweetest project in the class? And what does it mean that I failed? And since when have stereotypes affected my self-image?


a little brutal bit of truth: I want to be the best. Especially because I'm a girl in a sea full of boys. Especially when I'm the one outsider in the class.  If that's the case, I feel like I have to fight that much harder. To prove something. To whom? To myself? To everyone else?

How broken is that? 

I think it must hurt God when I start to try and "prove" myself. I don't know much about kid-lings, but I guess, if  imagined having my own little daughter, it would hurt me a lot to know that she saw herself in that way: as if she had to prove herself. As if she needed to be better than what she is by performing well. And I think I would probably throw myself at her feet and beg her to stop because she never needs to do that and she is loved whether or not she ever does anything great or perfect or awful.

And knowing the little I know about God, I am pretty sure He wants me to know the same thing.

 For as high as the heavens are above the earth,
   so great is His love for those who fear Him;
      as far as the east is from the west,
   so far has He removed our transgressions from us.  

As a father has compassion on his children,
   so the LORD has compassion on those who fear Him.

 

-Psalm 103: 12 - 13

 



-bRob
 

Love Bird Public Announcement

Pre-Script: Sorry Jaclyn. I'll write your recommendation later. This post was ENTIRELY too pressing.

Dear InterWebs -
It's been so long, but before I burden you with my list of grievances, here is what I am thankful for today:

Mercy Verity Candles. I met the owner, Lisa, at a farmer's market, and I've spent half of my pay check buying her amazing candles with phenomenal scents. And by the way - they're especially good for when you microwave something that's not supposed to be microwaved and then catch your apt on fire [nearly] and want to get the nasty smell out.

Anyways - the point of today's post:

I'm single. Mostly by choice. Not because I'm incapable of meeting members of the opposite sex. As a single person, and I'm sure all other single people will attest to this, there are certain things we're sick of hearing from couples.

Things Happy Couples Should Quit Saying to Singles:

1. "I'm so jealous of all your free time!" <-- Usually accompanied by a cute eye roll and hair flip. [i think this is the one i stole from jon acuff...]

Obviously. My free time, spent watching dvr'd episodes of 30 Rock and finding the best edition of the German Bible on Amazon.com, is HIGHLY preferable to a suhweet date night at the Melting Pot and watching the latest Katherine Heigl flick. Your Outlook calender must be SO full of treacherous appointments such as, I don't know, going to the fair with some hunk you're dating. Man, do I love my free time.

2. "Cooking for one is hard."

Is it? If you're willing to settle for a family-sized bag of potato chips for dinner, cooking for one really isn't too hard. I make this a regular habit. Never mind that anything else you buy comes with a batrillion servings. Hot dogs, twinkies, instant mashed potatoes...even PopTarts come in packs of two! [Don't judge my culinary habits. I'm sure I'll care more when someone else cares.]

3a. "So what are your evening plans?"

Did you just raise your eyebrow at me? Did YOU just RAISE your eyebrow at ME? I don't know what I'm doing this weekend, but it probably won't be as cool as your sweet sweet movie night. I hope watching the Notebook for the bazillionth time and eating cookies you two made together is simply swell. I will be enjoying my Discovery Channel documentary on anacondas with stale Triscuits, and it will be sweller.
[picture cred: stolen]


3b. "Oh, well, um, you could always come along with us." [Number 3a's cousin]

Thanks for the invite. I could maintain my dignity and go learn how to knit sweaters for my cats, OR I could play third wheel to your cocoon of love. Shuooot girl, who does you think i iz?

4. "Paul was single."

Thank-you for reaffirming my worst fears. God has called me to be single for the rest of my life. Couldn't I be more of an Eve? I wouldn't mind a hot naked man. (Adam had to be hot right?)

5. If I invite you out of posterity to a group function: "Um, I'm not sure, it depends on how I'm feeling tonight."

Honesty is the best policy. I know what you're really saying here: "Lame sauce McGuffigan, I'm gonna run your silly single plans by my significant other, and chances are we'll be too busy cuddling and speaking baby talk to one another to make it." < -- That's what couples spend all their time doing, right? I wouldn't know, I'm single.


;)

love, bRob.