I have not eaten meat since mid-August. For my 26th birthday, I wanted to take on a personal challenge: a vegetarian diet for 1 year. I'm a month and a half in, and I can say with great conviction that I have no plans of returning to an omnivorous lifestyle next August. Why? I feel great, I do not miss eating meat, and last night I saw a video of baby chicks being thrown live into grinders because they were not deemed "useful" by factory farm workers.
This, of course, was not the first documentary footage I have been exposed to regarding the animal industry. I've seen plenty, and I was always bothered, and I always toyed with the idea of becoming a vegetarian. So why now? I'm trying to be just as focused on doing as I am on thinking and talking. So around my birthday, I told myself, my husband, and the Facebook world that I was committing to this. No extensive research or overthinking --- I knew that it was something worth doing, so I did it. And I have no regrets.
I'll tell you a bit more about the journey thus far through answers to the following FAQ:
Why was the idea of vegetarianism appealing to you?
To be honest, I've never been the biggest meat-eater. I've always been just as happy with salad and veggies (and bread...), but I did grow up eating chicken nuggets and burgers, like most kids. Even up to the turning point in August, I was not one to turn down Chick-fil-A or a Mid-City Grill burger. But when it came to cooking for myself, meat was never really a priority. If my packed lunch did include meat, it was generally a terribly processed frozen meal that I grabbed in a hurry.
Which leads to another appealing point: I knew that dedicating myself to a vegetarian diet would force me to be more conscious about my food choices. I would have to plan. It would be harder to opt for fast food. I would eat more REAL food, which is something I've also been silently passionate about for a while.
So is it about animals at all?
Absolutely it is. I've been a lover of animals for a long time. I've never been crazy about the fact that animals are killed for us to eat, but I always joined in with the rationalizing masses, reasoning that animals were given to us for food, that we need meat to be healthy, that buying "ethically sourced" meat was ok because the animals didn't suffer. But the more I think about it, the more I disagree with my own former thoughts. I don't believe we need meat to be healthy. I believe that animals experience sadness and fear and pain, even if they are killed "humanely" (which most absolutely are not). A lot of it has to do with my ideas about life and love and murder and God and, well, all of that is another story that I'm still sorting out, but I'd love to talk about it. My bottom line is: if we can choose to live happy and healthy lives while allowing all other creatures to live happy and healthy lives, why shouldn't we?
You think animals are more important than people, you communist.
That wasn't a question, but I will address it anyway.
I don't think animals are more important than people. My top priority - as a disciple of Jesus, a wife, a friend, a therapist, generally as a human functioning in the world - should always be the well-being of my fellow human beings. I love animals and I want them to enjoy their existence, but I love people more --- and believe it or not, the choice to not eat meat is a great way to love your neighbor. Do some research on the amount of water and crops used to feed (fatten) cows and pigs and chickens so that they can be butchered for us to consume, then think about how many hungry people there are in the world --- we could feed people and give them clean water if our resources were directed away from raising animals for meat.
Besides all of that, I also believe that being kind and compassionate toward animals and the environment can only make us more kind and compassionate toward our fellow humans.
What do you even eat?!
All kinds of wonderful things! I eat grains and vegetables and fruits and nuts and seeds in SO MANY combinations. I still eat eggs, butter, and cheese, but I may try to eliminate those in the future. I don't use dairy milk, but that's mostly because I've preferred almond and cashew milk for a long time. Following a vegetarian diet does not mean subjecting yourself to salads every day --- it's so much more fun!
Does this vegetarian thing go beyond your diet?
It does indeed! I'm in the process of transitioning my personal care and home products to more natural and cruelty-free products (come back tomorrow to hear more about those!). I'm working on being more thoughtful in my purchasing in general, because I know that every dollar is a vote. I'm also trying to cultivate an overarching lifestyle in which my ultimate goal and focus is love and compassion to all beings.
So that's where I am today, and I am thankful. Thankful for so many things, but most of all I am thankful that this is a process. We are all on journeys, and I am thankful that my journeys are coinciding at this point: child of God, wife, daughter, friend, professional, and a force for well-being and compassion. Here's to growth on all of these paths.
There are several reasons I'm writing this, but the two worth mentioning are these:
1. I feel like I'm at a point of processing where I am ready for the panic to stop and the healing to begin.
2. Maybe those of you reading can relate or share words of healing from your own experiences.
I have spoken bits and pieces of this to some of you, but I decided it was time to process it all at once. For so long I've been afraid to say it all because it scares me so much. But I'm about to be a counselor, and I'm about to get married, and it's time to deal with my crap. And I tell people all the time that there is beauty and power in owning our issues. So let's jump in: spiritual abuse.
Those two words don't go together often. Mostly because we don't talk about it. And to say that I've been through it may seem like a hefty declaration. But my journey has led me to the conclusion that yes, I was spiritually abused. Me and many others in the youth group I entered at the age of 12. I am saddened by the fact that we are not able to talk about it together, but if any of you are reading this, maybe you'll remember.
At the same time, I also have to throw in anxiety. I've been an anxious person for as long as I can remember. And putting all of this together leaves me with the old chicken-or-the-egg question: was I predisposed to anxiety and the spiritual issues have made it worse? Or did the spiritual issues urge me toward anxiety?
Not important now, but my guess is a bit of both.
I grew up being taught about God, about His love, about Jesus and salvation. I didn't grow up learning a lot about discipleship and how to live in the Kingdom of God here and now. I accepted Jesus at a young age and spent the subsequent years panicking, crying every summer at camp, overcome by the fear that I hadn't said the prayer right or that I would somehow end up in hell anyway. I was an intelligent kid, which meant accepting something so other-worldly and unknown extremely difficult. I believed it was true, but I wasn't sure it had worked. I didn't know anything about the person of Jesus or what life was about - all I knew was that if I didn't say the prayer right I was going to hell and that was that. I also had this distinct feeling that Jesus didn't really like me - because otherwise, why would I have all this fear? If He is all-powerful, why doesn't He just take it away?
I think the obsession happened because heaven and hell was all we ever talked about. I wasn't taught how to study the Bible (we memorized plenty of scripture for competition). I wasn't taught how to serve (missions was considered a very high calling for a select few). I just went to church every Sunday and Wednesday where people sang about heaven and I would either panic about not making it there...
...or panic about making it there. But more on that later.
Cue middle school, an incredible vulnerable time of life. In terms of school and friends, I loved middle school. Spiritually, the struggle was real. As I prepared to enter the youth group, part of me was excited. The youth group at my church was somewhat legendary. There were always tons of students there, and I hoped to fit in there and learn. But it didn't take long to realize that I didn't fit and it wasn't because of the other students not liking me or anything like that. I didn't fit because I dreaded going and I usually felt sick the whole time there because I was so scared.
Because the schedule every Wednesday night was (1) loud, rocking music for the first hour or so, followed by (2) a sermon about hell and/or the imminent end of the world and coming of Jesus. One Wednesday we had "rapture practice" where the youth pastor counted down and we were all supposed to jump on 0. And I never said anything, because it seemed like everyone worshiped this guy (should've been my red flag), and I felt like I was the only one bothered. I felt like the wrong, broken weirdo who didn't get it and wouldn't get it.
And I can best explain what I consider to be the abuse by these two examples:
1. An older girl who I looked up to (and still do) recounted a story to a few of us. She said that she had been talking with the youth pastor about her desire to go to college and get married and have a family (normal, reasonable, good desires). And what he told her was that those desires were stupid because Jesus would come back before any of that could happen, and besides, wanting anything other than to be with Jesus in heaven is stupid anyway.
2. We had a weekend retreat every fall. On the Saturday night of the retreat, we had a worship service that lasted into the wee hours of the morning (3 or 4am). I don't remember any real point to this service other than more loud music and lots of crying and hugging. But one of those years, in the middle of the night, a woman who I didn't know at all was speaking to the group. We must've looked tired (no idea why) and what she said was, "Guys, if you think this night is long, eternity is gonna be rough on you."
I'm crying now as I type these stories because I see them so clearly and though I have intellectually moved past those beliefs, it still hurts to know that I was taught these things. And I am furious about what these things have done to my views of God and life and whatever comes after.
During my junior year, we got a new youth minister who taught us about the love and goodness of Jesus, about being a disciple and a servant, and about abundant life. The damage was done but I was mostly able to push it down and enjoy. My time at Milligan in undergrad showed me that, hey, people believe differently, and maybe they're right. The damage was done, but I was mostly able to cover it with new friends and new ways of thinking. And last fall, I got to participate in a weekend retreat with some of my grad school classmates and I shared most of the story of my spiritual abuse with them. The damage was done, but I was mostly able to talk about it in spurts and not really divulge the fears.
And that brings me to now. And I refuse to settle into the "the damage is done, but" mentality any longer. I want to dispel the lies and work through this because I cannot go on with the panic and the pain and this wall between me an God any longer. This wall is bricks of lies and fears. Lies are dispelled by truth. And fears are disarmed by naming them.
I was lied to. I was told that it was foolish to want to enjoy life. The picture of God that was painted for me was one of wrath. I heard about the love of God, but that love was very impersonal, very distant and aloof, and overshadowed by everything else. I am learning the truth about God more and more, little by little, every day. I am in a church now that is nurturing and tells me the truth and points me toward God and His overwhelming love. I'm believing that truth because I'm seeing it. But there is still fear in the unseen.
I've had panic attacks on and off since sophomore year of college. I probably had them earlier, but the first one I was able to identify happened then. And they passed, and I forgot, and then around Christmas 2013, they struck with a vengeance and a definite trigger. As I wrapped up my first semester of grad school, we finished our Developmental Psych class, and what comes last in human development? Death. End-of-life issues. And as a Christian program, of course we discussed our ideas about death through that lens. And suddenly, fear. Not of death itself. And not of hell, because I had moved past those fears. I knew that I belonged to Jesus and that I would be in heaven, and that terrifies me. And I wish I could articulate why I am scared of it. My only explanation is that I cannot comprehend it.
On the one hand, the pictures of God and heaven that were painted for me at a young age were not comforting. It sounded scary, like a never-ending staring contest with Jesus. Which sounds terribly boring. Also, if God is mad at me, it's not going to be pleasant. Also, eternity? What does that even mean? And that's where I get stuck. Most days I am able to reason with myself that it will be different there. But on the bad days, the very thought of forever sends me straight to the floor, trying not to hyperventilate, pounding my fists.
Why the strong reaction? I really don't know. I assume part of it is that I am an intellectual person and faith is hard because I crave understanding. I assume part of it is a desire for control. And part of it is probably the fear that everything I was taught growing up was right.
It feels like an unanswerable question. I just want to be at peace with that. I do not want this fear to rule me or continue adding bricks to the wall between me and God. This fear, this unknowable concept keeps me from living fully and loving well. It is in the back of my mind, whispering that there isn't really a purpose to anything. And I don't really believe that at all. But fear has a lot of power right now, and I need help disarming it.
The very thing in my life that is supposed to bring me comfort and joy is bringing me panic and confusion. How do I move forward? How do I hope for better? How do I make peace with the unknown?
Friends who have read to this point, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. Many of you have sat with me in these times and listened to me cry. Some of you were there when it clicked that I was not the weirdo kid who just didn't get it and that what was fed to us as a youth group was wrong. And I thank you now knowing that you will continue to be the praying and loving friends that you are. Thank you for reading my story, and I welcome feedback of all kinds! I do not want this to be a simple share and move on moment, I want to talk, and I want to heal. If nothing else, pray for that. And if you have a similar story, please let's talk. It's a real issue and we don't talk about it enough.
You are all wonderful.
I've been attending church at Grandview Christian since springtime. I've enjoyed a lot of things about it, but one element of the services that I really enjoy is the time of prayer. A different person leads with a different prayer, but it always concludes with the congregation joining together in the Lord's Prayer.
I've had this prayer memorized since my elementary school days in Bible Drill, maybe even before. But it's never played such a prominent roll in any other church I've attended. I am thankful for this weekly emphasis for many reasons: the reminder of how we have been taught to pray, the participation in communal prayer, and how each individual phrase hits me.
The phrase that's been hitting me hardest lately? "Give us this day our daily bread."
Life is busy right now. Classes, internship, work, relationships - it's slightly overwhelming at times, especially when I try to lay it all out on paper. On some days there don't seem to be enough hours, and on the days when there are enough hours, I am tempted to fill the extra with naps. I am learning how bad I am at mornings. I preach self-care and then feel guilty for engaging in it. I worry about money and what I will do after I graduate - not to mention all of the things I have to accomplish before then. Then there's general anxieties of life and beating myself up for mistakes and then I'll eat too much and sleep too much and exercise too little. On and on.
But on Sunday morning, we all pray for our daily bread. This day. And it makes me wonder if we are missing the point.
I am a planner and an organizer and I always have been. Grad school has made me less perfectionistic, but I still like to stay on top of things and plan ahead. And I think that's ok, but I think the point I often miss is the importance of today.
Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors.
I don't recall a day in my life that I have gone hungry. I know God is faithful in the literal bread. But maybe daily bread is more - maybe it is the work and play and rest He sets before us for the day, and as we ask Him for it, we are also committing to taking care of what He gives.
The phrasing also makes me feel like asking for forgiveness and doing some forgiving ourselves is also a daily thing. And if Jesus taught us to pray that way, He had to know we'd be messing up a lot.
So maybe the prayer should be a daily thing, where we ask for our daily bread, forgiveness for our daily failures, and forgive others of theirs. Maybe it's really about day by day.
This is comforting and challenging at this point in life. I want to see the future and maybe even fast-forward a bit, or slow time down if I'm trying to get something done. But this prayer is teaching me to accept what God dishes out each morning and know that it is enough - and that, in Him, I am enough as well.
I read a BuzzFeed list a few months ago that ranked the years in your 20's from worst to best. 23 was ranked as the worst, and as of today, I have passed from that year.
Don't get me wrong. I am very thankful for the past year. 23 saw me through my first year of graduate school, my first year as an RD at Milligan. It brought me Ben. And even on the very hard days, it brought me new knowledge and understanding about myself and life and God. So today isn't a thankless "good riddance" to 23. It's more of a retirement party, a "thanks for your service."
And now, 24.
I know it's just a number and to everyone but me, it's just another day and nothing really changes. But I love arbitrary "fresh starts" and I am ready to hit 24 head on. 24 will see me through the remainder of grad school - through a 600 hour internship and my last three semesters of class. 24 will see me through opportunities that I don't even know about yet. And, if I choose it, 24 can see me through growth - in my relationships, my spiritual walk, my yoga practice, everything. So I choose it.
In case you're wondering, I don't remember what that BuzzFeed list ranked 24 as. And I don't care, because I'm thankful for where I'm at and I'm going to embrace it. That makes it the best.
Top Ten Lessons I Have Learned in Counseling Practicum Thus Far
10. If you have parents who care about you, be thankful.
9. If you have parents who don't do drugs, be thankful.
8. If you got to spend your childhood actually "being a kid", be thankful.
7. If you aren't on 10 different prescription medications, be thankful.
6. If you have clothes and food and a place to sleep, be thankful.
5. If you can read, be thankful.
4. If you know Jesus, be thankful.
3. If you have graduated, be thankful.
2. If you have at least one person who believes in you, be thankful.
1. Healing can happen. Be thankful.
Spring, 2010
"And now, dear lady, I am not writing to you a new command but one we have had from the beginning. I ask that we love one another. And this is love: that we walk in obedience to his commands. As you have heard from the beginning, his command is that you walk in love."
2 John 5-6
I know that I don't have to tell anyone reading this that sometimes life gets chaotic. Don't worry - I'm not writing to complain. Not in the least. I'm writing this because God always takes my chaos and turns it into something beautiful.
There's a lot I don't - and will never - understand. I have a lot to learn. I am dramatically flawed, just as we all are. But God is pouring Himself out on me and giving me some new perspective. Discovering and living out His will is a daily thing, but there is one thing that I am absolutely sure of: I am called to love people. Simple. Not easy. Worth it.
There are so many decisions to be made in the coming years about both here at Milligan and after. But I know that those will come with time. One thing that is clear is that, right now, I am supposed to be pouring into others. I don't have it all together. I'm not going to be a perfect encourager and friend by any means. But I'm going to do my best to lift others up, because everyone needs that. Everyone.
My first attempt at this is as follows: I'm going to try to articulate and expound upon a conversation I had with a beautiful sister in Christ last week.
My friend and I were talking about our views of God and she described this beautiful picture of God as our Father, our Friend, and our Lover. It was interesting to think of God in those three contexts at the same time. It was easy for me to grasp the Father and Friend concepts, but God as a lover, one who is pursuing me, one who loves me with a passion...that's not something I had considered much. But it is so true. My friend described how she feels about this, and since then I have paid close attention.
God chases after us. He is relentless in his pursuit. I feel his hugs in the warmth of the sun and I hear his whispers in the wind. When I lie down to sleep, I know he is holding me, keeping me safe from anything that might try to harm me. When I am upset, he wants to be the first one I run to. He listens. He allows me to give my time to others, but sometimes he just wants me all to himself. I think he smiles when I smile, and laughs when I laugh. And I know that he gets jealous when I don't give him everything. He's chosen me - all of us - and he's not giving up.
I am loved, no matter how irrational that seems. Life is irrational, and love - a force so much greater that even life - must be irrational, or it would be commonplace. My God isn't common. He is extraordinary, and He is love. Love cannot be boxed in. Love knows no bounds. Love makes absolutely no sense. But the God who created those starts and flowers and butterflies also created me. And He thinks I'm beautiful.
Listen to His love song.
Summer, 2014
Over four years later, this is still true. Life is so different, but I find myself relating to sophomore-in-college Corri so well here. Love is a concept that I enjoy exploring, and I am thankful that God gives us such strong examples of his love, through things he does and through others.
Happy Thursday!
As many of you know, yoga has become my favorite obsession over the past 5 months. Today I wanted to share with you my favorite online yoga sites so that you can give them a try if you're curious!
Do Yoga With Me - This is the site I credit for starting the yoga fire in my heart! Thanks to the lovely Meagan Smith, who told me about it, I visited this site for the first time in January and never looked back. There are hundreds of free videos, and you can filter through them by level, yoga style, and duration to find one that suits your mood and needs for the day. I started with this sequence for shoulder and arm strength and I've been hooked ever since!
Yoga Journal - This site has a more limited selection of videos, but it is full of demos and information for the new yogi! I don't know about you, but once I got started, I wanted to learn all I could about the practice. Check out the articles and the individual pose tutorials.
Yoga International - This one is a new favorite! I started following them on Twitter, and they tweet links to awesome videos all the time!
These are my top three, but there are so many! There is no excuse not to give yoga a try!
