There’s something stirring deep inside me. I’m thinking a lot about being a woman. About being feminine and soft but not weak. I’ve been thinking about being entitled to princessdom, stamping our feet and demanding our own way. And how there could maybe be a better way. I’ve been thinking about being underestimated and overlooked and how to embrace my femininity when that happens rather than try to use my body language to act more masculine. I’ve been thinking about how strong women can really be if only we allowed ourselves to be strong… expected it of each other, fostered it in each other rather than expect a meltdown at every turn. And I’ve been thinking about how women shouldn’t be awarded something just because they are women, but because they worked hard to get it.

More to come…

Boring day: rose jeans, cardi, tee shirt – Target, id tag necklace – Pollux, boots – Charlotte Russe

Black printed jeans and earrings – Target, ballet flats – Old Navy, necklace – Pollux, tee shirt – H&M

Destroyed jeans – Victoria’s Secret, tee shirt – H&M, gather cardigan – Anthropologie, pearl bracelet, id tag necklace, earrings – Pollux, heels – Nicole from Miss Maries

I was standing in Starbucks the other day waiting for my drink and I overheard a conversation happening at the table behind me. Two college students were sitting there having drinks, a boy and a girl, and the boy was very analytically trying to talk the girl into believing in God. In Christianese this is called “witnessing.” I felt a stab of shame in the pit of my stomach, hoping that back in my more zealous, naive-Christian-days I never tried to talk someone into Jesus.

I wanted to turn around and tell him that he was doing it all wrong. That we can’t talk people into believing that God is real with books and statistics and the “Romans Road.” I wanted to say that we don’t talk people into Jesus with threats of the intangible hell or promises of a heaven they can’t see. We can’t talk people into Jesus at all. But what we can do is engage their hearts. We can tell them how he saved us: from hopeless marriages and heartbreak with second chances and plans bigger that we could ever imagine. How he gave hope when there was none and light when things seemed very dark and comfort to endless tears. That when life was really, really bad he whispered promises in my ear – promises that he knew what he was doing with me and that he was holding me safe in his hand. Promises that there would be better days, full of joy. Promises that came true.

I wanted to tell him that people can’t be talked into believing in God and that by trying to do so, we’re having the opposite effect, pushing them farther and father away. Dear college student, people can’t be talked into God, but they can go searching for him, inspired by how he rescued you.