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Thursday, March 3, 2011

Hold on, let me tuck in my love handles.

Do you ever have those days where you just feel ridiculous? Or those weeks? Or maybe longer. I feel like my life has been one long... well, lifespan, of trying not to look ridiculous. Will everyone look at me if I walk in late? I think I'll pass on ping pong - I'm horrible anyway.

On a side note, I just realized the other day that I'm pretty sure I have never played a legitimate game of ping pong. I just tell people I'm really bad and let them play with people who are less bad than I am.

It's really hard to keep up a facade of perfection. I would know; I've tried all my life. And a lot of the time, I think, I've been pretty convincing. I'm the girl who always got those yearbook autographs that said things like, ‘Reagan you seem so nice. Wish we could have talked more.’ Really? You don't know that I'm nice. You just know that I only said 3 words in the entirety of my high school career.

I'll be giving my testimony at Aftershock in a few weeks. I think this is what I'm going to talk about. The lifelong angst of pseudo-perfectionism. How, really, you're not perfect. You're just invisible.

I go to great lengths to shield my crazy and broken and flabby self from the rest of the world. But I don't understand why it's so important to me. Over the last few months, I've gotten to know some pretty cool people. And they're cool because they're authentic. They're REAL. And every time someone has walked up to me and said something like, 'REAGAN, what's wrong? No, you're not fine. What's the deal?' it has been such a punch in face and yet... a relief. Oh yeah, they're not idiots. They know I'm a human who doesn't have it all together.

This scenario happened (again) this week, actually. The Bridge staff went on a 26-hour retreat, just taking time off to relax, cast a vision, talk about where we are, and learn about Jesus. I had been feeling kind of off that day, but since I'm the bottle-it-up-and-don't-tell-anyone-unless-they-threaten-to-crucify-me type, I tried to be pretty low-key (which isn't unusual anyway, I guess). One of my friends caught me and demanded (after the "I'm fine" spiel, of course) that I talk to her about what was going on with me. So I did. And it was embarrassing, and vulnerable, and freeing. Because, really, we keep people at arm's length when all we want is to be known. To be heard. For someone to see us be ridiculous and still think we’re incredible and worthy of love and grace and things that are beautiful.

That same freedom – only better – is found in the grace of Jesus Christ, though I’m just as hesitant to embrace it. I so often forget that I’m saved, I’m righteous, I’m already purified. I don’t have to hide my crap from Him. I don’t have to live ashamed. I don’t have to be good enough for Him to love me. I don’t have to be a pretty wallflower for Him to think I’m nice. He delights in me. And if all my worth is in Him – in His salvation, His sacrifice, His love, and the only real satisfaction that exists – I don’t have to feel alone anymore.

I wrote this in my journal during our study over Galatians:

I am plagued with the thinking that if I could just get it together/right, God will see that, reward me, and value me more. He’ll see that I’m “ready.” I’m not motivated by grace – God is in me; I am righteous; I’m okay. I am motivated by shame, greed, [and all that is encompassed by the kingdom of Reagan]. I am not free. My identity is based on all that I will someday attain. When I accept grace – that I am righteous through salvation – I am convicted when I sin – I can be corrected for growth – but I am not ultimately devalued as a human being – God’s child.

Don’t forget that I am already good enough – purified.

Grace leads to obedience.

Oh yeah, God’s not an idiot. He knows I’m a human who doesn’t have it all together.

I can’t explain (and I usually forget) how much freedom there is in dropping your defenses. How much beauty there is in true community – people who love you because of God’s love for them.

So much better than being a pretty wallflower.

Image source.

Friday, February 25, 2011

On Being 23


It was my golden birthday on Wednesday! This is what I wore:

I didn't do anything too exciting since it fell directly in the middle of the week, but I did have a fun "work birthday", which included cards,

chocolate chip cookie dough-filled chocolate cupcakes,

and a "fiesta" themed party at the daycare!

I went out to eat with some girl friends this weekend to “officially” celebrate. On Friday night, we ate dinner at Joe's Crab Shack, got coffee, and spent about 2 hours in a sandwich shop just talking and laughing till we cried. It was great!


Except the part where I had to stand up and humiliate myself while everyone in Joe's sang "Happy Birthday". I thought I would at least get a free dessert out of it, but no.

On Saturday, some of the same friends and I went to a tea room. Fancy, delicious, and wonderful.

In honor of my friend Ashley (and maybe to poke a little fun at her), I’ve decided to use her approach to blogging about the life of her (currently) 6-month-old son. So, here’s to you, Ash.


Routine

I usually wake up at 7:20 every morning to make breakfast, tea, and hang out with Jesus. Then I get ready and go to work from 10am-4pm. I decided to sleep in on my birthday. (Sorry, Jesus.)Then I went to work. There I received one of these:


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and one of these:


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and one of these:


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so that I could buy these:

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In keeping with traditional Wednesdays, I went to Starbucks after work. I ran into a friend who bought me one of these:

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Then I went to Celebrate Recovery and ate lots of food and talked about all my anxiety on being 23. More on that later.


Eating

On my birthday, I ate cereal, yogurt, a turkey/spinach/pepperjack cheese wrap, pita chips, and various potluck dinner items. And drank lots of caffeinated things.


Weight & Other Stats

No thanks to this small stash I keep at work,

I’ve gained a few over the past month or so. But my height has maintained at 5’5”.


Sleeping

I typically sleep 6-8 hours per night. I start by lying on my left side, then I usually switch to my right side or stomach over the course of the night.


Skills

I am very skilled at driving, eating, and tying my shoes. Also at singing, tweeting, Facebooking, correcting your grammar, and making coffee.


Other Changes/Facts

I recently started using an organic shampoo bar and “conditioning” my hair with coffee. Seriously. So now my hair smells faintly of coffee all the time.

Also, I’m still thinking about going to grad school this fall. On Monday, I’ll be spending the day at Anderson University going to classes at the School of Theology and meeting with some profs. I heard they’re adding a counseling concentration to the seminary program, which would be interesting… and practical! Still praying for doors to open in whatever area(s) God wants me. We’ll see!


Firsts

I snow skied down a black diamond slope for the first time last weekend! I went on The Bridge youth ski trip to Mad River Mountain in Ohio with about 50 kids and 6 other adult leaders. I had a blast getting to know a few of the kids better (and skiing again for the first time in a couple of years, of course). It was also my first “extended” outing with the youth. Great times!

Sizes

7-8, 6-8, S-M


Teeth

Still straight and intact. Faithfully brushed twice a day and flossed once a day.


Mom & Dad Perspective

They love and miss me! They even posted nice things on Facebook.

Mom changed her profile picture to this:

and her status to this:

‎23 years ago today I became a mommy for the first time, and my life was forever changed for the better. Happy birthday, my beautiful Reagan Taylor. I love you so very much!”

And Dad posted this:

and this:

“‎Greg Taylor's oldest baby girl will be 23 tomorrow. She's the greatest and I'm so proud of her. Love you Reagan, Happy Birthday!"

I got to talk to both of them on the phone for a little bit, which was really good. I never really miss home until I remember how much I love my family. I haven’t been back since Christmas, but I’m hoping to make a trip down soon.

Alright, that’s the end of index updating. Now on to the real stuff…

I had a lot of anxiety leading up to this birthday. In my head, 23 is the first “grown up” birthday. No more dingy, know-it-all, college graduate, 22-year-old foolishness. Time to get your crap together. Find a job. Find a husband. Find your niche. Get going. What are you going to do with your life? Well, someday when you get a ‘real’ job… It’s hard not to compare my life with those of most older people I know. By the time they were 23, they were married and going places. They didn’t have it all figured out, but they were on their way. Not me. I don’t know anything about anything. And, really, all this pressure is self-imposed. Everyone I’ve talked to about it just tells me to quit freaking out, that it’s okay, that I don’t need to have it all figured out, that I’m being ridiculous, that I’m still so young. Thanks, people who have spouses and jobs and life plans.

God’s really been turning my world upside down over the past year. All my plans and non-plans and expectations and desires have gone awry… But all have been redeemed. And I have no doubt at all that God’s favorite place to work is in my weakness – at that point where I (angrily and ungracefully) throw up my hands and give up, finally figuring out that I can’t make it work on my own after all. And I know that these fears and broken dreams are just another tool He’ll use to show me how He had a plan all along, if only I’d quit worrying about how to orchestrate all the details over which I have no control. And it will be better than anything for which I could have asked or imagined and all those kinds of things. But the transition period stinks.

As I write this, I have my “City and Colour” Pandora station playing, and the song “23” by Jimmy Eat World is on. Ha!

Needless to say, I’ve been doing a lot of praying. And God has been giving me peace. Which is a really big deal, as I rarely feel at ease about life. I feel this unusual calmness in my spirit, as if He's just telling me to wait. He's got this. Deal with today. Quit worrying about tomorrow. Pray for now.

I’ll probably look back in a few years and think, “Wow, if only I had known.” I guess I don’t really know, though. Maybe I’ll be thinking all the same things at 25 and 40 and 89.

Regardless, I know He’s doing something. I'm excited to see what that 'something' is.

Saturday, January 1, 2011

Giving It Over

2011: Here we go.

I’m in Findlay, OH once again. Each year, a few Echo Ranch Bible Camp staff members host a counselor reunion over the New Year’s holiday. I came last year after counseling during the summer of 2009 (for more on my time in Alaska, check out my other blog). I remember bringing in the wee hours of the new year sitting on the living room floor with four other girls… praying. For each other. For ourselves. Dedicating 2010 to God and to what He would have us do. I remember being in a rough place around that time. I was floundering in my faith, frustrated by all those questions and doubts with no logical answers. I felt depressed, having obtained a college degree but no real direction for my life. My prayer was essentially a verbal throwing up my hands in the air and saying, ‘Whatever, God. I don’t know. I don’t even know.’ It was really a beautiful experience, though. Skeptical as I was, I was challenged and encouraged by the faith of the others. And I wondered – hopefully – what the coming year would hold.

So now I’m here again, but the situation is significantly different. I’m physically in the same location, yet so much in my life (and in the lives of each of those girls) has changed. None of them are here with me, but I’m still trying to offer up this year of my life to God (in much shorter and less eloquent prayers). I don’t think I’m as skeptical this time, for which I am grateful. I do think I’m learning to expect God to do the unexpected. I never would have guessed what my life would look like right now. And it blows my mind to think about what could be different this time next year. But I want to hand it over… And yet, I can’t.

I am the rich young ruler (Luke 18:18-27), the one who saw himself as flawless in God’s eyes, wondering what else he could possibly do to earn the kingdom. And so Jesus told the man to do the very thing he could never accomplish in his own strength: to sell all he had, give it to the poor, and follow Him. And the rich young ruler became sad. And he walked away. Because he couldn’t let go. It was impossible.

It’s impossible for me to hand this year off to God on my own. It’s impossible for me to give up control, to live with open hands, to not worry about tomorrow.

And yet, I’ve learned that that is exactly where God wants me to be. Because, with Him, all things are possible. If it were possible for me to do what I could never do on my own, I wouldn’t need Him.

I can’t.

He can.

He will ask you to do the impossible because He knows you can’t do it without Him.

It scares me to think about what that might mean – what He might ask of me. But a life of faith is characterized by walking in the footsteps of Christ – and doing it in such a way that, if God doesn’t come through for you, you’re screwed. Throwing in the towel on your delusion that you can control everything that goes on in your life. Understanding that “earth has nothing I desire besides You” (Ps. 73:25).

So here I am, praying once again that this year will be a year lived for Him. Letting Him decide what that should look like. Asking Him to do the impossible.

And, really, I don’t expect anything less.

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

This Is Home

So, apparently no one at home knows anything about my life unless I tell them about it. Weird, right? I’ve decided to start writing more about both significant events and the day-to-day hum drum of life. And maybe just give a quick review of the last few months…

So, I started working at The Bridge in July, right? We moved into our new building (The Bridge’s first building to call its own since its founding in 2004) in November, and it’s been a party ever since!


By the way, that's my head directly in the middle.

And It only took me 3 months to get my picture and professional blurb submitted to the website.



"The Bridge! This is Reagan, how can I help you?" Reagan graduated from Olivet Nazarene University with a B.S. in psychology in January 2010 and started working at The Bridge that July. Her roles include office administration, working with the youth, and heading up the Bridge Brew coffee project. She loves a good theological discussion and hanging out at Starbucks, and you could probably find her doing both at the same time when she's not in the office. In addition to being a Jesus and coffee enthusiast, her passions include quoting Elf, updating her Twitter, and correcting your grammar.”

Here is the office where I do all my administrating:

That's my computer screen in the bottom right corner.

This is the youth group with which I volunteer on Thursday nights and lead a small group for high school girls:

Here is the coffee of the project I am heading up:

And here is the Starbucks where you can find me 3-9 hours of the week:

I currently live in the basement of a lady named Lisa. She is a professor at Anderson University, a member of The Bridge, and one of the leaders of Celebrate Recovery (a Christ-centered 12-step recovery program offered at The Bridge and many other churches – for anyone with a hurt, habit, or hang up. I have those, so I go.). She also has 2 daughters.

This is a vertically-positioned panoramic (sort of) view of where I live right now:



But soon I will be returning to my original basement at the home of Reagan and Andrea, the worship arts director and children’s ministry director (respectively) at The Bridge. They have 3 wonderful children and a lovely home.

My week sometimes includes going to Zumba with my friends Kylee (family life pastor at The Bridge, married to Phil – high school pastor at The Bridge) and Libby (2nd grade teacher, married to Gabe – middle school pastor at The Bridge). Zumba is a dance workout that is neat/hard. But I only go about twice a month, so I wouldn’t really know.

Thankfully, this picture is a misrepresentation. There are rarely any guys who attend. And I wear a whole shirt.

Things are going pretty well with Bridge Brew coffee. All in all, my basic dream in progress is this: The Bridge Brew coffee house will easily stand out and attract people – people who may not otherwise enter the doors of a church. It will be another tool The Bridge can use to be “all things to all men,” as Paul says in 1 Corinthians 9:22. A coffee house is a classic respite for those who want to relax, share, connect, and develop deeper relationships: a community living room. Bridge Brew will certainly be a place for those things, but it will also be a tool for outreach. We want to use profits to foster ministries already offered at The Bridge. Eventually, we would love to offer some free skills classes, Christian education classes, and/or counseling services that people can attend while enjoying their beverages. We want it to be a place for people to feel safe and loved. Because, really, we don’t want it to be just about the coffee, but about Jesus and the expansion of His kingdom.

I feel pretty out of my element trying to create a vision and plan for a business, but God has really blessed it (and me) with people who actually know what they’re doing. A guy named Bill, who is married to Marcia (the video coordinator at The Bridge), has roasted his own coffee for the last 6 years or so and was eager to jump on board as the official “roastmaster.” Donette and Sonny and their family, my relatives in Connecticut, graciously donated an espresso machine and many other coffee house items and pieces of equipment. And now Natalie, the owner of Mounds Mall in Anderson, wants to somehow partner Bridge Brew with her coffee shop, Maxine’s (which would help significantly with our funding). So basically, I haven’t done a thing, and things are running pretty smoothly!

[Begin shameless plug.] We have been selling 14 oz bags of fresh-roasted, fair trade, organic Bolivian coffee at church each Sunday for $7. People are all about it, and it’s been fun getting to connect with some other coffee lovers. If you are interested in buying some… let me know! [End shameless plug.]

So, what are my plans for the future? you ask. I don’t know. Right now, I want to stay in Anderson until I decide not to stay in Anderson anymore. It may depend a lot on how Bridge Brew is doing, or I may hand that off to someone else and pursue an actual career. I’ve wanted to go to seminary for awhile, and I could do that AU for a significantly lower price while working at The Bridge. I love learning and theology, but I don’t have a practical vision for that yet. I’ve also thought about going into teaching, which I’ve wanted to do for many years. So I may go to school up here and get certified. But I may not. This topic has hoarded a lot of my stress for the past couple of months, so I’m trying to make it a matter of prayer rather than one of worry. Like I’ve said so many times before, I’ve seen God do the impossible and unexpected in the midst of my planlessness… or when my plans get screwed up. I don’t expect anything less now. I’d just rather do the right thing the first time. In any case, for now, this is home.

Alright, I think that about covers it for the time being. You’re welcome, family – now you won’t have to ask any more questions!

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Dirty

This comes from one of my favorite blogs, Jamie the Very Worst Missionary, in her post "The VWM gets censored.... kinda..." It talks about the divisions within the Church, the dysfunction of the body, the refusal to live up (or rather, "live down to") to what Christ created it to be. It's a refreshing and convicting picture of Truth.

I’ve always felt that part of the problem with the church is that is has no feet. We are a giant, wobbly, disjointed body with no feet. If we were a real person, there would be a documentary about our hideous existence. And the freaks that like documentaries about that kinda stuff (me included) would Netflix it, and watch in stunned silence because it would be so totally grotesque to see the Church, all deformed and lumpy, and barely able to speak with her own mouth because even her lips were at odds with each other. We would find out that she was indeed born with feet, but that she hated the idea of any part of her body getting dirty so she used her hands to chop them off. With her misshapen head lagging off to one side, she would slur that she tried for years to make her feet act more like hands, but that they were always a mess, always covered in filth. And even though it was their job to touch the ground, to stand in the dirt, even though they were designed for that, it made the rest of her body so uncomfortable that she let her hands whack ‘em off. Then the feet would come into focus in the background, severed, and floating loosely in a pickle-jar behind her, doing no good for anyone...

Where is my love? What is this pride?

Are you afraid to get dirty?

I am.

I keep trying to picture what it would look like for me to be a truly humble person. But I guess that's where I keep going wrong. Oswald Chambers in My Utmost for His Highest write all the time on how the truly humble person never thinks about being humble. He simply walks in the footsteps of Jesus.

And Jesus got dirty.

Photo found here.

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Hosanna (2)

Eyes be opened.
Christ is revealed.

Photo found here.

Some days, I feel like it's all I can do to keep my eyes open - to see what God is doing. Not what He did yesterday or what He will do tomorrow or what He may do by this time next year, but right now.

Eyes, be opened!

I've found that Christ often reveals Himself to me in conversation with other people. I love "talking Jesus" with those who know Him well, who have found peace in the midst of their own struggles of life or theology. He reveals Himself to me when I'm wrong. When I'm shocked once again at my own arrogance. When Francis Chan metaphorically punches me in the face with phrases like, "If I really believed that God 'sits enthroned above the circle of the earth,' why do I do anything other than pray?"

But some days are valley days.

Hosanna. Save, I pray. A cry for salvation.

Eyes, be opened! Salvation is already here!

Christ is revealed. So why am I still looking?