Judgment

I normally don’t get in the middle of politics and religion (unless you’re someone I trust) and I’ve debated on this for, gosh, a week or more now. You see, I don’t normally like to throw my two cents in unless I feel that my two cents is needed, and I’ve been questioning if I knew enough about this topic to add my thoughts. 
Then tonight I keep feeling like there’s a weight on my chest and that there is something I need to do – this usually means God is knocking me on the head and telling me to act. 
So naturally, I trust Him and act. 

After He knocks for a while, cause ya know?
This picture sums up my frustration with this country right now. 

And no, not because I agree, but because I wholeheartedly disagree. 
How dare anyone question any other persons faith. How dare you assume you know so much that you know the heart of those who are Christian and voted for, now president, Trump? 

Don’t get me wrong, we all have that very human and sinful side of us who question others about their choices and how it pertains to their faith, but hopefully we realize our error and pray about it. 

Not for the other persons sin, but for our own. 
I could handle being called racist, homophobic, etc because of who I voted for. It irritated me and hurt, because I know it’s not true, but it didn’t affect me down to my core. 
But insinuating that I’m not following Christ is a whole other ball game. 


My faith is hard won. God found me when I hit the lowest of lows and He loved me when I wasn’t even sure if I loved myself. I strive to live as closely to how He wants me to live as I can. I have learned to forgive those who hurt me. I have learned to accept those who differ from me. I have learned to turn to Christ in anger, instead of allowing the emotion to consume me. 
Jesus died for me on that cross, not because I’m so faithful, but because His love for us transcends anything we could ever comprehend. He died for me when I was so buried in sin and I was living only for myself. He died for me when I went weeks without praying. He loves me. He loves you. 
For someone to group every Christian together  who voted republican and assume that we are all horrible people is so hypocritical. You judge us because we apparently judge others? What? You can judge and it’s acceptable because you’re liberal? No. Wrong. No one can judge. 
Do we though? I’d be lying if I said no. But you’re just as guilty. Never start pointing fingers unless your own hands are clean. 
But because of my faith, I forgive you. 

Because of my faith I love you and want the absolute best for you. 
Instead of passing a judgment on me, try and get to know me. Ask me about my views, my Christian walk, my story, my friends. Learn about who I am. 
You’d be surprised to see that I’m nothing like what you assume. 
Truthfully, if you want to know, ask. That’s how we all grow. 
I’m sure there’s plenty we don’t agree on, but that’s the beautiful thing about the USA. 

Dear Girl Who Only Posts Pictures of Her Face 

Dear Girl, 

I get you. For years I didn’t post or even take full body pics. I felt like my face was way better than the rest of me and if I showed the world what I looked like no one would want to pay attention to me. 

I see people who have so many pictures from high school and how they lovingly look back on them. I, however, have very few pictures from that period of my life. 

Don’t get me wrong, I have a few, but I spent that time avoiding the camera from the chest down. 

Why do we do it?

We are trained to think that unless you look a certain way, you aren’t attractive. We see pictures like this splashed all over the internet and magazines and we think this is the norm. 


Or maybe we feel that our chest is too big. Maybe it’s too small. Maybe we think we look too thin and are afraid people will make fun of us. Maybe we hate our stomach. 

There’s a million reasons we don’t like our body and I couldn’t even begin to name them all. We also forget that it’s not just curvy girls that feel self conscious. 

All women feel that way; big or small, tall or short. 

But that’s the thing – if we all feel that way at some point, then why can’t we just be accepting of each other? 

Your body does not define you. Your skin color does not define you. Your clothes do not define you. Your hair does not define you. 

You define who you are. 

Take control of who you are and go on a journey of learning to love yourself. Take those pictures. Post those pictures. Life does not wait for you to decide you’re good enough, so live each day. Enjoy your friends and family. Wear that bathing suit to the beach. Wear the leggings. 

Don’t hide everything but your face. Be proud and unapologetically so. 

You’re Waiting For Marriage? But You’re Not A Virgin!

Life is full of twists and turns. 

You start down one path, only to be redirected to another one. You think you have everything you want, only to realize something major is lacking. 

For 25 years of my life I stumbled through this world living one day at a time.

 I did what I wanted. 

I stayed out all hours of the day. I went to concerts (rock, of course!). I drank – sometimes heavily. I dated guys who were all wrong. I gave myself to men who didn’t deserve it. 

Now, don’t get me wrong, I never really slept around. I had boyfriends and I had men who I thought I was crazy for. But that’s way besides the point, right?

I didn’t want them to leave, and having sex was the normal progression. Right? 

But I always felt like something was missing. A piece of my soul that was longing to be filled, but no matter how much I tried it always stayed empty. 

And, oh, how I tried! 

In the summer of 2014 I moved in why my boyfriend of a little over a year – for four days. 

Because I found out that he was smoking pot on the fourth day. 

It wasn’t even the fact of him smoking pot; it was the lies. 

So. Many. Lies. 

My world came crashing down and I didn’t know what to do. 

I went home to my mom, losing it the moment she asked me what was wrong. 

I sat on the couch crying and feeling completely hollow. 

My life was in shambles. 

I kept bouncing my bank account. My job sucked. I had recently had a panic attack – something I hadn’t had in years. My migraines were happening all of the time. My boyfriend has lied to me – and not just once. And I felt like all of my friends were leaving me behind. 

I didn’t know what to do. 

So I did the only thing I could think of.   

I prayed

I begged His forgiveness. I begged for Him to come into my life and change it. I told Him that I give up on trying to do everything my own way. 

I gave Him everything. 

I knew at that moment I could either follow Him, or keep ruining my life. 

So I chose to follow Him and I haven’t regretted that decision since. 

The part of my soul missing? It was God. 

I’m whole. I’m finally whole. 

Of course, with my salvation came changes. 

I started a new job and I’m getting ready to start my journey into Medical Coding. 

My migraines disappeared. 

I have money and haven’t bounced my account in almost two years. 

My clothing became much more modest. 

I am abstinent.  

Oh, and I’m some sort of mutant because I gave up having sex before marriage. 

Why is it we want to celebrate that we, as women, have the choice to sleep with whomever we want but not the right to choose not to have sex?

Why is there such a double standard? 

It’s empowering to have control over our sex lives, right? 

But not if that means not having one before marriage. 

What utter bull crap!

I’m more empowered now, not  having sex, than when I was. 

It’s my choice. 

It’s my right. 

It’s my faith. It’s my relationship with my Lord and Savior. 

It’s my body. 

I won’t look down on you for having premarital sex, so please don’t look down on me because I don’t. 

It works both ways. 

So yes, I can wait for marriage even though I’m not a virgin. 

Yes, that can scare men away,  but I don’t want a man who will be put off by my faith. It actually weeds out the ones that are wrong for me. 

I am unapologetically me. 

And I couldn’t be happier. 

You Wear Too Much Makeup. 

“You wear too much makeup.”

“You have too much makeup.”

“You spent that much on makeup!”

“But why have all that makeup when you don’t wear it?”

I, for one, have been asked all of these questions, by men and women. (And probably more that I just can’t remember.) 

Now, I’ll admit, I own a lot of high end makeup. It’s what I like and I’m not and won’t be sorry for that. To some people, it’s ridiculous. To others, it’s awesome.  

But guess what? I don’t buy and wear makeup for other people. I buy and wear it for myself. 

I see my face as a blank canvas – one that I can highlight and contour, blend, and color how I want. 

Some people wear makeup to hide pimples and hyper pigmentation. Some wear it to make their face look smaller. Some wear it to boost their confidence. 

Whatever the reason someone wears it, man or woman, others need to stop and think before they comment. 

Why is it assumed that automatically if a woman wears makeup they’re wanting to impress a man? 

You think a man is gonna care that my eyeshadow is Tom Ford? Uh, no.  

Why can’t I just like makeup and want to wear it? Why is it so hard to believe that I do something for myself, and not someone else? 

Then you have the other end of the spectrum – not wearing makeup. 

Why is it assumed that when a woman doesn’t wear makeup that she doesn’t care enough? I have heard that so many times. Or, that she’s more independent than women who do wear makeup? 

If you wear makeup, great! If you don’t wear makeup, great! 

Instead of tearing each other down for our choices, why can’t we build each other up? As women, we have enough against us without other women tearing us down. Wearing makeup doesn’t make you any less of a feminist, just as not wearing makeup doesn’t makeup you a better feminist. 

What makes you less of a feminist is tearing down another woman for the choices she, herself, makes. That includes how much makeup she wears and how she dresses. 

Just like women tearing down Kim K because of her nude Instagram posts. Now, I personally may not support the idea of showing my body off to everyone, but why would I tear someone down for her personal choices? She, as an independent woman, made that choice.  Just like tearing down a women in dresses  and long skirts or a hijab and assumingthat they’re oppressed by a man? Why can’t those choices of modesty be their own? 

I personally dress pretty modest. I don’t expose cleavage or wear things that show off my butt or thighs. But guess what? That is my personal choice and that’s between God and I. 

No man is telling me to dress that way, but I’m sure my dad fully supports it. Then again, what dad wouldn’t? Baha-freaking-ha. 

Sorry, I had to take a laughter break. Wiping the tears from my eyes now. 

We, as women, need to empower each other. 

If we don’t, then who will?