untitled

I am learning to love
the being I've become
The body that holds my tender soul
The skin and bones, the flesh
wrapped around mess and holiness
Truly it is a journey
To learn to trust your bones, your tongue, your cracking joints
worn from the battle, worn from the love
Worn from learning you are enough
Truly it is a journey
to plant hope in your lungs
and breathe out trust

a prayer for the pain

This world is a heavy one
Let it down easy
Your weary limbs can't rejoice right now
But somehow
Hope still flickers
Dancing in the shadows
Tip-toeing down alleyways
It may not seem like the
darkness will ever dissipate
Wait
Night cannot remain forever
Let your lungs mourn
Let your chest collapse in surrender
Exhale the sorrow burrowing inside
No need to hide
Joy comes in the morning
It may not be morning yet

a glimpse of hope

My limbs have been craving the safe space
in between my Mama's flannel sheets
usually reserved for Christmas morning
or heartache
or secrets too heavy to keep
It all seems too heavy-
This weary world trying to rejoice
Voices of hope lost in the shuffle
Muffled groans of
"How much longer shall we wait?"

I have yet to learn how to navigate grace
It's messy
A love that says, "You matter.
Let us keep pressing on."
A love song of left behind leaves
quaking in the morning wind
And fresh flurries falling
from a bleak midwinter sky
The "Let's try this one more time"
that slips out of cracked, dry lips

And I'm sure I've missed
glimpses of hope
while keeping my eyes fixed on the world
Chaos abounding
leading to love astounding
What child is this that enters in?
The sins of the world upon His shoulders
May we be bolder-
in laughter, in loving, in looking for light

And bare winter branches are
craving all they've lost
Counting the cost of waiting til spring
to bloom once more
And we wait with them
knowing all will be restored
Holding onto hope
Longing for Your love
Born into a grace
that comes from above
Glimpses of the way it should be
While we wait, Oh God, for your peace.

Mourning

The words feel too empty
Too incomplete
I'm offering prayers that walk streets
I do not know. I cannot fully know
But I can lament
And let my lips linger
On names that spent
their last moments running
from fates unimaginable

How do we reel in the darkness
from swallowing the light
The whole earth is mourning
all creation groaning
Desperately trying to hold the reigns tight
Our blisters have blisters, the day becomes night

In the midst of our cries 
you are the source of peace
You are the song the sidewalk sings as it cries itself to sleep
You are the joy on the horizon
A love undivided
You are the whisper to keep running, dancing, laughing, loving
Even when our feet cannot bear the load
you are the arms holding us close

Clothed in permanent sack cloth and ashes
Mourn with those who mourn
There's a new morning coming, I'm sure
filled with peace unknown
Foreign to our weeping bones
No more bullet holes
through car windows

Train your lungs to breathe in new spaces
The opposition of hate is not more hatred
Be the very testimony that Love shall prevail
Even as the world tries to nail
hope to a cross over and over

And over and over
We are the broken ones crying out to be healed
Forgive us for we know not what we are doing
Don't let our anger settle into the conclusion
that violence is normal-
It will never be normal

We do not have the words to say
Because we're not supposed to
We were not made for this
A pain so divisive, aching hearts and bitterness
This is not the garden we were planted in
But each morning is a chance to rise again
Grateful for breath in our lungs
The songs that have sung for thousands of years
against all odds, against the backdrop of fear
Reminding us that even when sorrow comes day after day
Hope will always get the final, final say

Oh, be gentle

Be gentle with your heart
It's the only one you've got
It's okay to hold it softly
to let the creases in your bending fingers cradle
its every pulse
You're alright, you're alright
All is right with this very moment
Even when your broken shows
and you can't control it all
You can slip in sidewalk puddles
And crawl into the safe spaces of
blankets warmed by another
You can throw up arms
in sweet surrender
There is a simple strength in refusing to be strong
You will carry on, you will carry on
Cast your burdens and She'll carry them home
It's okay to not want to be known
To claim your invisibility for a moment of peace
Do not hide your beauty
-the very beauty of being alive
Feeling the fullness of life
The hard, hard moments of wishing you could let go
and the sweetness of coming back home
to flickering candlelight that smells of
vanilla and sandalwood
You are light, you are light
Take the risk and do not catch your fall
After all, there is a sweet bliss
in waking to the falling rain
And knowing it is not okay
but it does not always have to be
You are whole, you are whole
Held by the sweetest Peace you'll ever know
Days will come and days will go
And trusting your lungs will keep breathing
is just the place to start
Be gentle with your heart

Hands

To the North Park student at the Sex Signals improv show who said that sometimes "no" means "yes" 

Rape is not a joke
There is no punchline in being punched by
objectification
Having no final say in
the state of your body
Hands should be helping, uplifting
instead of holding hips in
parenthesis
Whispers are not any less than
the screams of no, please

There is no power in taking hold of another's hope
There is no love in force
We teach hemlines to be longer
instead of telling hands to stop
Why do we say things are okay in the dark
That alcohol makes someone
not human at all

That's what you suggest
when you violate identity
Consent is not sexy, it is necessary
Victim blaming
Slut shaming
Not naming the cause of the pain
The misuse of bodies scattered on floors
We ignore the disease until symptoms show
and threaten our reality

May we be
the ones who sing sing light in dark places
Created as safe spaces
May we rest in the One whose hand is over everything
The One who weeps over
Her children's pain
May we hold close the hearts that are still healing
We are all still healing

Shattered but running
Let us keep running
Never letting the hurt hide behind closed doors
May we never ignore the voices that cry out
The brave souls and feet that walk
streets of recovery
Mourning with those who mourn
May we dare to live in abundance of peace

Let it be

You are something
Everything
windswept and voices kept quiet
You are nights that pile up tea cups
and mornings that start with laughter
Your heartbeat rings free from the pain you've known
You're home- I know it seems like a rather unassuming place
This humble space
sandwiched between "we've got no idea" and
sweet, sweet bliss

It will all fall apart before you finish counting your blessings
but keep on counting
Out of the ashes and rubble you'll learn how it feels
to start anew, over and over
The wildflowers in your heart will surely bloom again
I can see the darkness in the valleys beneath your hopeful eyes
But the times ahead will be filled with a grace
that washes over your fumbling hands and forgetful heart
It's a start

And I can guarantee there will be
Broken, hopeful people to walk with you
To point you to Jesus and sunlight and the good stuff
made of spontaneous adventure
You will wander
You will trust the familiar feelings of lust and longing
and comparing all you're not to all you ought to be
Let it be

You'll burrow into the achey kind of sadness
that makes you crave being alone
but your bones are Sacred
You are stitched together with hopeful words
Held close to your Maker
Let it be
You're a holy sinner not a Savior and it's not your job to be
perfect

Take that in, press the words upon your spirit
You'll make more mistakes than you can list on your forearms
But you'll be strong
You were made to walk the waters of reckless abandon
Give up your planned out plans
and hold fast to the hope that once you've been lost
you'll surely be found
You're home now

Dear India,

Dear India,
We started missing you before we even left
You are more alive than any place I've ever been
You are not the desert I dreamt you up to be
No, you are sopping wet with spirituality
You're just in need of a Gardener
to wade through the muddy waters
and seek out the truth

You have shattered my alabaster heart
My eyes cannot take in all the pain
My mind does not know where to start
and yet your joy is abundant
Singing when He comes I shall be like Him 
on chaotic streets and in crowded homes
I feel known by people I've never met before

Dear India,
I haven't stopped praying for your children
For all that is and all that has never been
Wishing I could scoop up all the wide eyes,
wild hair, and eager smiles in my arms-
I am far too small
But I know my Father holds them all
My Mother sings them sweet songs of someday

You are spilling over with bright colors, wandering eyes
Trash piled up, magnificent sights
You are coated with more visible contradiction
than I've ever seen
And yet you've led us to search for authenticity
You leap into prayer fearlessly
I've never encountered so much trust-
a faith that heals wounds that run deep

Dear India,
We will be back
Maybe not our feet but in our minds and our hearts
We will revisit you day after day after day
Boldly praying in expectation of change
Your people will be renamed
Instead of carving idols out of the stones of iniquities
we pray that Jesus will flood in to wash your dusty feet
Your women shall be dignified
Love shall rise
We'll toss flower petals in the wind singing,
No more pain, I shall be like Him 

Amen.

Hold On

I am becoming more aware that I am not enough
My hands are not made to hold the world
and all the people in it
I will never be able to sweet talk the waves
into kissing the shoreline
But that does not mean that the tides will stop rolling in

I am a first class example of consistent stumbling
Mumbling hopeful words into darkness
Begging the light to spark
so that I can grasp my surroundings
Gasping for air
There are days I feel like I'm drowning
and I'm merely sitting there

I am growing tired of looking for simple solutions
that I can sip with my morning tea
instead of looking for You
"We need You now more than ever"
I'm sure that will always be the cry of surrender
A constant reminder that You will always be better
than I could ever dream You to be

Thank goodness Your perfection fills in the cracks of my mistakes
I am not a fan of letting my feet leave the ground
or leaving too much room for chance
My hands and my heart are far too greedy
I take on much more than I can handle
But You hold me here
steady and stable
I'll never be an anchor
You bring me to the table
and tell me that I don't have to be

You will always be much more than I can handle
But I'll keep daring to wade into Your presence
Outstretched arms in reckless abandon
I am Yours, I am lost, I am looking for answers
And I am tired of feeling the undeniable weight
of waiting for things to change
I'll keep on following string with my finger tips
Tracing my way back to You and Your holiness
Trusting that You've got a hold on all of this
and I never quite will

Praying for Ferguson

At times like this I don't know what to feel
Anger of course, heat rising up
like summer sun on a Missouri sidewalk
I am painfully ashamed at my country's concept of justice
It makes no sense, it makes no sense
repeating to myself as I shake my head
The only words that come to mind are heart-broken and shattered
desperate for change
Losing "progress" that I'm not sure we ever gained

You can't take slavery and rename it racism
and then just call it "the way things are"
You can't have violence just for violence sake
But really this system went up in flames
long before the day that it was decided that a young man's life
wasn't even worth a trial
Living in denial, somehow still thinking that things are just fine

I will never have to justify the fact that my life matters with a hashtag
I sit here so far removed, so confused
Not wanting to even look at the news
because I just want to hear the stories
Knowing that an abuse of power is deeply rooted
in a systematic injustice that is so hard to undo
I will never have to clarify that I do not have a gun on me
But his legacy is not meant to be a burned up and vandalized community
"Channeling your frustration in ways that will make a positive change"

At times like this I don't know what to feel
Not because I am white but because I am human
Because my heart breaks knowing that
a boy's life should never bring about violence
and neither should his death
Justice isn't found in bullet holes and chalk outlines
flaming cars or smoke filled skies
Silence rarely brings about change
But it seems to be what I'm filled with
Deafening silence that aches in my bones
because I don't even know where to begin

This is neither the beginning nor the end
A continuation of disgrace, bringing to light a plague
That we've allowed to sicken us for so long
Song after song crying out
We are hurting, we are broken, we are honestly a mess
It makes no sense, it makes no sense

The Light

The light is fading

catch it quick

Slip it into the drink of a young girl who needs it

Paint it on your finger tips

Smudge it on your cheekbones

Know that you are not in this alone

Let your breath fall like raindrops on a Tuesday afternoon

You are not you

You are the compilation of decades of dreamers

just trying to matter- just trying to take up space

You are your Mama's artwork, Daddy's best catch

You are the exhale of a Monday morning,

a constant "Here we go again"

The light is fading

tame it quick

Whisper it into existence

Name it with your lips

Write it into your daily routine

right after your brush your teeth

The flicker of candlelight on a Friday night

wrapped up in sheets

You are the music moving the story

The dramatic pause and the cascading conclusion

You are the very pulse of movement

The light is fading 

hold it quick

Stitch the warmth into the lines on your palms

You'll need it when the gray clouds come

covering you from horizon to horizon

You are the boldness of sun

daring to rise and

You are salt water stinging eyes

You are a mess and you're still here

The ribcage in your chest more capable than you thought

of holding up your heavy heart

The light is fading

find it quick 

Redeemed

I've never been one of the cool kids
With the right gym shoes and the right words to say
I've never been picked first or felt loved most
I trip over my words and over my feet
And some days it seems that I undo more "good" than I speak
And still You've picked me
Out of a crowd and up into Your arms
You've chosen me to be Your Beloved
How good it feels to be called home after I've made mess after mess
Dug holes in the yard and filled them with my regrets
You've picked me

I have been redeemed
Seen even when I feel unseen, unclean
I have wrestled with demons and heartache and lost
But my Savior paid more than the cost when he died for me
Set free from all of my own insecurities
My addiction to making everything seem settled and safe
I've learned that your grace works most in the midst of the waves
chaos abounding often leading to love astounding
Like winning a race I didn't know I was running

I will always be running
You set my course and anoint my feet
Giving me worth when I should have been worthless
Purchased by the blood of a Savior
Who paid my entrance fee into the kingdom of glory
I have been redeemed
And still day after day I'm learning what that means
That I am free in his love and the security of knowing
that even in the moments I feel lost, I've been found

You have called me higher
Made me to love deeper and wider
But I wasn't left to walk this terrain alone
Surrounded by community formed of holy unity
You put on your hiking boots and came to walk by my side
And I am called to arise
Rescued from darkness and brought into light
With wounds in my sides that seem to match Yours
I have been jaded and hurt, I've wandered and lied
but through it all you've picked me
Saved me through Your wishing well ways
Washed clean by buckets and buckets grace
I have been redeemed

Sweet Summer

We arrived with clean feet and open hearts
Some of us more ready than others-
a ragtag bunch of people attempting to get it right
and not always knowing exactly what "right" is
We were greeted by the pine trees with their brave branches,
the sun peeking through as if to say "Welcome home"

We sat in circles and prayed in circles and ran in circles
preparing for the days to come
But how can you prepare for the lakeside conversations that break your heart?
Or the nights spent stargazing, staring off into an endless sky created by an endless Creator
Or the hours upon hours spent scooping ice cream and watching children play in the water
singing to ourselves "No place I'd rather be"

I swear that laughter is God's joy personified
And this summer we laughed and cried and laughed until we cried
We broke bread and broke down
Each day offering a new chance, a new start, a new song
We were called to love and to teach and to empower
But there were mornings that I really didn't feel like getting out of bed
And still the Christ in me said "Let's tackle this one together
and learn a little bit about grace along the way"

This was not a mountaintop summer but instead a summer of foundation
Of building up the important things
and breaking away the not so important ones
It was a summer of empty coffee cups and beautiful conversations
Of growing and learning and letting go and changing
I think it rained so much not just to keep us on our toes
But to let us know that though storms may come
we are held safe by our Maker
Gentle raindrops calling "Come and worship, come be washed clean"

We'll leave this summer with dirty feet and full hearts
Some of us more ready than others-
a ragtag family of sisters and brothers in Christ
ready to go out and be light
Because we know that even when the dirt road turns to pavement
and the summer sky fades to fall
Camp isn't just a season, it's a feeling
A feeling of being loved and free and a tad bit crazy
Never an ending, always a fresh start
Knowing that we've become a part of each other's stories
Creating new testimonies in a place that always beckons
"Come back soon"

A Letter to My Younger Self

You are destined for wonderful adventures
but you are also destined for mistakes
Do not hold your wide eyes and open hands too closely to the idea of being perfect
It will only lead to self loathing at 2 AM
When all you can do is analyze every mistake you made that day
or that week, or that year
Instead, know that your hands may fail you
and your feet may wander down dangerous trails of thought
But you will surprise yourself consistently with how well you bounce back
How quickly your mind adapts to new places and new people and new shoes to fill

Stay away from the ones who do not care for you well
You were not made to conveniently fit into the life of someone who calls you beautiful
Sometimes people will make you feel like you are a wallflower
At least be a daisy, a sunflower
Something that makes others smile
And try not to let them grind your self esteem down to a grain of sand
Sand is too soft, they'll walk all over you
Instead be wood chips, pine needles, even cactus spikes
Do not be afraid to leave a lasting impression

You probably won't grow to be as tall as you hoped for
but do not get too caught up on size
Focus instead on how big your heart is, how big you love
Make sure you go out of your way to help flowers bloom in sidewalk cracks
And every now and then, take a step back
and marvel at how much good there really is in this world
even if you have to squint your eyes and tilt your head to see it sometimes
It's there, I promise
Darkness will always threaten to seep into your pores
but don't let it get too comfortable
You were made by a God who knows darkness like no other
And yet He still calls it light

There will be days when you're running incredibly late
and your clothes don't sit the way you want them too
and you haven't done your math homework yet
(you'll probably never do your math homework)
But trust me, it's not the end of the world
You will have days when you can't lift your head off the pillow
and people you know will leave this world far too young
and teachers will place limits on your future with red pen and raised eyebrows
and all you'll want to do is retreat into your own bones
But it still will not be the end of the world

Because your world is just beginning
You will have first kisses and road trips and nights where you eat way too much ice cream
You will dwell in the pages of far too many good books
and learn to not read people too quickly when you meet them
You will sing on stages and sing in churches and learn to tell the difference between the two
There will be weeks when everything feels so incredibly right
and weeks when you're in over your head
Do not waste too much time trying to do it all on your own
You may be strong, but your arms will never be able to hold
all that you try to put on your plate
And always remember that you will never be too far from others' love and grace

Things That Sweden Taught Me

Sometimes God yells and dances and claps Her hands
But sometimes She quietly whispers hymns through fields of yellow flowers
Just because things aren't happening loudly doesn't mean they aren't happening at all
And I think we've begun to forget that there is power in stillness
There is power in being small
That some days your feet have to stop moving
so that your mind can stop too

I'm convinced that the best medicine is Scripture and a strong cup of coffee
That days spent laying in the grass are not days wasted at all
Quiet revivals can rumble in cafes and countrysides and cathedrals
Volume is not necessarily noise, it's just the amount of space taken up
Maybe we should let Her fill in the silence more often
instead of rushing to do it ourselves
In fact, She's quite skilled at creating something out of nothing
Painting beautiful scenery out of ashes and mud

We've become all too littered with desires and destructive decisions
But when you are seemingly plucked from all that you know
it becomes easier to examine the core of who you are
Maybe we're best when taken out of context
I don't think I'll every truly know what it feels like to be comfortably home
But I can remain comfortable in knowing that there are pieces of Home all over this Earth
Reflections of a God that is unfathomably vast
I'm grateful that we're never expected to bear Her image alone

If you listen hard enough, you'll hear the footsteps of brave people
walking down cobblestone streets
Fountains catching coins and laughing at silly wishes
secretly hoping that they will come true
First dates and first prayers and first times for everything
You'll hear children's laughter breaking down barriers
And directions given to strangers
I'm grateful that "Hallelujah" is the same in every language

Are We There Yet?

The soles of my feet were not created with road maps printed on them
I am a wanderer with a capital "A" for "Always searching"
But You don't mind
You never let me wander alone
It's dangerous out there with broken streetlights
judgement hidden in cracks, broken glass
You leave the 99 and take a walk with me so I can clear my mind
Sometimes it takes all night and we greet the Sun with tired knees and course voices
And You tuck me into a bed of grace saying "Goodnight my wanderer"

Lately I've been trying to sneak You into the pockets of strangers
Hoping that compassion could be contagious
It's easy to think that I am doing nothing by giving away smiles and yellow flowers
But You are doing big things in me
If only I could borrow Your eyes for a moment
so that I could look at people the way they need to be seen
Just a glimpse from You and they would know
Know that you love them from their split ends to their elbows to their baby toes
Know that you love them for their past and their present and all they are going to be

If only I wasn't so easily distracted
so consistently egocentric
Wrapped up in my own planned out plans
Staring at my hands not wanting to get them dirty
If only I was able to trust in you as I trust that the ground below my feet will always hold me up
And that the sky above my head will always stay there
If only my default mode wasn't "maybe some other time"
If only I fully understood how it could be that I am Yours and You are mine

And still You love my "If only"s
After all, You wrote my story
And even on days where I feel like I am defined by misjudgment and mistakes
When I let my own self get in the way
You sit by my side and let me catch my breath
Reminding me that this isn't the end, this isn't where I'm meant to be
apart from Your joy, apart from Your glory
Like a little child in the backseat I keep asking "Are we there yet?"
You taken my broken hallelujahs and call me by name
You write out thank you notes in the budding trees saying
"See, I told you winter wouldn't last forever"

People Are Not Illegal

I don't know when we decided that it was okay 

to bind the wrists of others together with caution tape

To place warning signs on someone’s race

To make them feel less than human

Less than alive

This world thrives on compromising people's worth for the sake of feeling unjustly safe 

Entanglements of lies, how can we look into a child's eyes and deny them a future

Children should not be born with statistics etched into their DNA

I am a child who was born into privilege

Chances are slim that I will ever be seen as a threat

I have never been stopped and frisked on a city street

Or had my level of intelligence determined from the way I speak

I have never been unjustly accused of a crime and held behind bars even though my ancestors fought merely decades ago for the very freedom I have been denied

That is not me

But I can plainly see the amount of brokenness that is upheld in this nation

We've been looking for clarity through a shattered magnifying glass

that we have named justice

Serving a system that should be called illegal, not it's people
Lack of humanity has created an “us” and a “them” instead of a we

And yet I follow a Savior who probably would have been named "illegal"

Would Jesus have been able to get through airport security without being "randomly searched"?

Would my Lord have been welcomed even into the church

without being looked at with a shred of suspicion 

Our mission shouldn't be to change just the way we act but the way we see

Asking God to dilate our pupils so that we can let in more light

I've come to the conclusion that our pointer fingers are a lot stronger than our feet

We love to stand in light and point to darkness

We think and talk and proclaim

Hoping we'll inspire change

But we rarely go and do 

We point to problems more often than we solve them 

Even though our feet are begging to march

To march towards a day abounding with hope

Barriers broken, voices heard

A day where this messy kingdom is restored

People no longer ignored as a number

Or branded as illegal, caught up in vicious cycles

We march toward a day where our feet will always empathize with the footsteps of our brothers and sisters

A day where everyone will be named with endless love

My "plans" for Lent

And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.

Colossians 3:17

 I'm slowly realizing how quickly this year has flown by. How is it already almost Lent? Everything has been chaotically busy lately and this season definitely snuck up on me. With the bitter cold and never ending winter surrounding me it's hard to even think about spring, let alone the joyful celebration of Easter Sunday. Today I decided that for me, Lent isn't going to just be about giving something up in an effort to deny my own selfish wants. It's going to be a time where I become a little bit more aware of how I can give myself over to Christ in my day to day words and actions and prayers. 

I like plans (understatement of the year). I am the biggest fan of lists and schedules. However the word "daily" makes me want to run in the other direction. I have never been able to keep up with a daily journal or a daily devotional or a daily discipline. So I'm trying not to think of my "goals" for Lent as daily plans but more as ways that I feel God is calling me to make some changes in my life

IN WORD: 

I complain a lot and I've realized how absolutely awful I sound when I do. I have been showered with blessings and yet I constantly let my mouth whine about so many trivial things. I complain about people and places and classes when I should be expressing joy. Starting on Wednesday, every time I go to complain, I am going to express a positive spin on the situation instead.

IN DEED:

I, Hayley Sheaff, am addicted to Starbucks. And I hate it (oops, that's definitely a complaint). I find my feet walking there between classes before my mind can even comprehend where I'm going. Sure I have gift cards and it can be a good place to study, but other times it is a total waste of money. Starting on Wednesday, instead of going to Starbucks, I am going to make myself a cup of tea in my room and keep a little more money in my bank account.

IN PRAYER:

I have become completely immune to the sounds of sirens in Chicago. It doesn't even phase me when a police car or ambulance or firetruck whizzes by or even when I can hear faint traces of them in the distance. Each one should serve as a reminder that this world is hurting and in need of healing. Starting on Wednesday, I am going to pray for the situation at hand whenever I hear a siren, hoping that God can provide peace and safety to anyone involved. 

Here's to a Lenten season of change that will hopefully continue on into a year of new, better habits. 

-Hayley

A Letter to my Mama

It can only make sense to begin with thanks

Thank you for letting my spirit run loose

For never tying me down to ideals 

For letting my imaginary friends sit in the backseat and at the dinner table 

For letting me sing you songs that I scribbled on notebook paper 

that never really had rhyme or reason or even a logical melody

And still you listened

You have always listened

Thank you for reading me books that stretched my mind

For always giving me the space and time to create, think, and get mad

You have taught me that it's okay to get angry with the things I see

and more importantly the things I don't see

That this world is far from perfection but so am I

That there is always something new that I could be striving towards

even if I have to stand on a step stool to reach it

You taught me that it's okay to rely on someone else

That asking for help is not something to be ashamed of

And I should always be looking for new people that can etch encouragement into my heart

Thank for you for giving me inconceivable grace

For always finding a new way to sneak love into my pockets when I wasn't looking

For letting me fall on concrete but always being there to patch me up 

I think some of my worst injuries came from rejection and heartache and broken trust

but you always have had the right sized band aids to cover them all up

You have taught me that wounds don't heal over night, and sometimes it will feel like they haven't healed at all

Thank you for reminding me to stop picking at my scabs and to just give them time

Thank you for showing me the way toward a Savior who fills in the gaps of your human mistakes

For guiding my little feet down a path that led to a loving Christ

Thank you for refusing to buy me velcro sneakers no matter how much I begged

You always said that I had to learn how to tie my shoes first

Thank you for never giving me an easy way out

For pushing me to sing louder and love bigger

And never letting me settle with the things that came easily

Thank you for standing up for me on your Mama soapbox

Yelling on street corners, always fighting to make sure I was given a fair chance

When I felt like my own voice was silenced by circumstance

There you were with your megaphone and your determination

Always doing your best to make sure that the world never got the best of me

And on the days when I felt like a crumpled piece of paper tossed aside by everyone else

You spread out the wrinkles and taped me to the front of the refrigerator 

Proud of all of me, my mistakes and triumphs and silly tendencies

You have loved me through my darkest days and my most beautiful celebrations

It can only make sense to end with thanks

I don't mind if chivalry is dead...

...as long as common curtesy has replaced it.

Recently I've read several articles online that give men simple ways to bring back chivalry. They include all of the common cliches of holding the door, pulling out a woman's chair, giving up their seat on public transportation, and complimenting women up and down. And my favorite part is always when, in an effort to not appear sexist, the author says "men (and women)." It's new to me that we need parentheses around the female gender, almost as if women are an afterthought.

I don't expect men to hold the door for me or pull out my chair for me at dinner. Would I appreciate it? Of course, who wouldn't? But my appreciation isn't dependent on the gender of the person, it comes from the fact that kind gestures are rapidly fleeing from our fast paced, multi tasking, American society. I do not think that the number of X chromosomes a person has should dictate the level of politeness they need to express. I think our focus needs to shift away from chivalry and knights in shining armor and toward a universal expression of compassion and simple thoughtfulness. The term "chivalry" puts an unnecessary amount of pressure on males to uphold the hierarchy put in place not by Creation but by the Fall.

If I am called to be on equal footing with a male then he should not need to walk on the side of the sidewalk closest to the street or drop me off first when there isn't any close parking or it's raining. If I decide to wear heels in the rain and snow then it's my own fault. I've also recently read countless anti-feminist rants that say "well if men and women were equal we'd have co-ed bathrooms" or "well if men and women were equal then men should be able to hit women back." I am not a feminist, I am a human and a follower of Christ. Quite frankly, I don't think anyone should be hitting anyone and yes I am aware of the blatant differences between men and women. Being equal does not mean ignoring these differences but mutually loving and respecting each other because of our differences.

I do not need a man to give up his seat for me on the bus. My legs are just as equipped for standing as his are. However, if I was bogged down with grocery bags or if I was injured, it'd be great to have someone give up their seat- male or female. The call to be loving and selfless isn't gender exclusive. I think that we need to start viewing acts of kindness as a natural form of respect and stop viewing them as an obligation to advance our own agenda to appear a certain way.