I love you, and I mean that

Far too often in life, people say things that they don't actually mean.

And words are some of our most powerful weapons.

The movie Diary of a Wimpy Kid was on television over the weekend, and I was watching the first part of it until the NBA Tip-Off show came on before the game. The main character said something that made me laugh but then also made me start to think. He was referring to hearing a conversation in the hallways of middle school, and he said something along the lines of, "I don't understand why girls our age can't just talk like normal people."

Welcome to the beginning of years of confusion, kiddo.

I think it's really important to put meaning behind the things we say. If we pay someone a compliment, I think it should have sincerity behind it and not just be a way either to get a compliment in return or to flatter someone as a means of selfish intentions.

"Mean what you say, and say what you mean" shouldn't just be a trite expression.

As much as I hate to admit this, there's a huge population of people who tend to say one thing and mean something completely different: women. "No, I'm not mad." "This dress makes me look fat." "It's not that important." "It's really cold in here." "Give me two minutes." "I don't mind where we go eat."

Much of the time, those things are translated differently than what your ears hear. "I'm very mad and even more upset that you don't know why." "Tell me how good I look. Now." "It's probably the most important thing in the world, and there's no way I'm exaggerating about that." "Turn off the AC, stat." "This could take a while." "I really only want to go where I want to go."

I've never been in a relationship, so I've never used girl language in that regard, but I know there have been times in the past even with some of my friends when I've said things that perhaps I didn't completely mean. But I've learned over the years how important it is to be upfront, because I've also been on the opposite end where people have told me things that they didn't mean.

And that hurts.

While I don't think people should be flat-out cruel with honesty—like saying, "Geez, your hair sure has seen better days" —I do believe in honesty that is genuine and pure. For instance, if you're not interested in a person, it is better to let that individual know early on rather than leading him or her on and breaking a heart even worse later. Trust me, insincere intentions and broken promises are more powerful than we often realize. Sure, sometimes life happens, and you can't always live up to what you say, but there's a difference in that and knowing you won't follow through with the words coming out of your mouth.

Mean what you say.

I also think we sugarcoat our own feelings when people ask us how we're doing. A lot of the time, it feels like saying, "Great, thanks. You?" is simply the expected response. I don't think it's necessary to pour your heart out to a random person, but I also don't think there's anything wrong with responding with, "Well, things are kind of rough right now, actually," when a friend checks in with you.

Say what you mean.

The poor kid in the movie just didn't understand girls, and who can blame him? I think too many things are misunderstood because of what we say—or what we don't say. If you say "I love you," mean it, because love is pure and shouldn't be a word carelessly tossed around without true meaning behind it. The way that love is lived out will reveal how strong the meaning is behind the word.

In my efforts to live a life of more boldness, I'm trying to be more intentional with my words. So, hopefully if I ever get a boyfriend, he won't have to have a decoding book handy to try to determine what I'm trying to tell him. It shouldn't be that complicated.

Words are incredibly powerful, and the more meaning we allow them to have, the more beautiful this world will be.

Beholding beauty

In the culture in which we live, it's easy to feel rather unattractive at times.

Especially if you have nothing to cover your blemishes.

I honestly normally don't spend a ton of time on my appearance, because I really don't care that much, but I will admit that there was one day last week that I just didn't have much of a desire to show my face in public. I'm not positive what happened—I might have accidentally scratched myself in my sleep or come into contact with branches while I was running (it's happened before)—but somehow I got a few scratches on my face. I don't own any makeup, and the scratches were very noticeable, so I knew the only way they wouldn't be seen was for me to crawl back into bed and hide beneath the covers for the rest of the day. That wasn't even an option, so I left for work with a sour attitude, then I got even more frustrated with myself for caring so much about what my face looked like. I mean, who was I trying to impress?

Sometimes I wish mirrors didn't exist.

I actually forgot about my face until every single time I went into the restroom and saw my imperfect reflection again. It also didn't help when someone asked me, "What the heck happened to your face?" I was frustrated, so I just said, "Bar fight" and walked away. Other than that one incident, no one seemed to care about the marks on my face—I didn't even notice anyone blatantly staring at them yet trying to be subtle like people often do when they are trying not to look at a huge zit on someone's face but can't seem to take their eyes off of it.

Later that day after work, I decided to go rollerblading, and I always listen to music while cruising on my wheels. A song I love by Nichole Nordeman came up on my playlist, and I think I needed to hear those lyrics that particular day. It starts off talking about how we often are so unsatisfied with what we see in the mirror, especially when we start comparing ourselves to others around us. Then the chorus begins:

Has anybody told you you're beautiful? You might agree if you could see what I see. 'Cuz everything about you is incredible. You should have seen me smile the day that I made you beautiful for me.

The truth is, no matter what we look like—or what we think we look like—we are still beautiful to the One who created us.

A couple of months ago, I went to a painting class with my friend Amanda. It was one of those classes where an instructor tries to walk everyone through in somewhat of a step-by-step fashion of creating a "masterpiece" of your own that you are trying to get to look like an already existing piece by an artist who actually had talent. By the end of the class, however, I was convinced my painting was beautiful. I didn't care that it didn't look exactly like the original work, and I certainly didn't care that it looked nothing like anyone else's around me. To me, it was perfect. I had created it, and it was special to me.

My masterpiece

And that's how the Father sees us.

I wasn't created to be a supermodel or have my face plastered across billboards, and that is absolutely fine with me. Rather than being upset about a few scratches on my face, I need to make sure there aren't any scratches on my heart—inner beauty is more appealing than outer beauty, anyway. The song "Beautiful for Me" continues on with some fitting lyrics:

If it's true beauty lies in the eye of the beholder, I want my life and what's inside to give Him something to behold. I want a heart that's captivating. I want to hear my Father saying...

It goes back to the chorus after that, and as I was rollerblading I realized that it's the heart that really matters. Regardless of what my appearance looks like, I want my heart to be captivating. There are days when my hair is frizzy; there are times when my clothes don't match (that's actually almost all of the time, but anything matches if you wear it with confidence); there are moments when I'm reminded that teenagers aren't the only ones who get blemishes on their faces; there are days when every outfit I put on looks stupid to me; there was a time when I tried to remove my freckles; there are instances when I wish I weren't so pale; there are just some days when I want to look different.

But I don't need to.

I went somewhere with my sister this weekend, and she texted me beforehand trying to warn me that she looked horrible. She claimed that her hair was a disaster and that she really shouldn't be seen in public. If you've never seen my sister, let me just tell you that she is beyond gorgeous. She is definitely the most beautiful person I know, both inside and out—she takes after my mom in that regard. It was a day that my sister wanted to look different.

But she didn't need to.

Let's be honest, one day you're probably going to reach an age where your good looks escape you. Then what's left? I don't think there's an age you can reach where you lose that captivating heart.

God's love for us is unchanging—it doesn't matter if we are having bad hair days or feel like we're just not pretty enough. You're more than pretty. You're beautiful.

I don't care what anyone says—my painting is a masterpiece.

And so are you.

Why I love love

When I was a little girl, at some point I fell in love with love.

Or so I thought.

I had this idea of what I thought love was: it was Harry telling Sally on New Year's Eve just how much she meant to him; it was Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russell jumping ship and swimming toward each other at the end of Overboard; it was Zack Morris and Kelly Kapowski overcoming various obstacles throughout high school and college to end up together in the end; it was Cory Matthews and Topanga Lawrence finally realizing how they felt about one another after years of growing up together; it was Todd placing three different candy hearts that said "Marry me" on them in front of Christy before she finally realized he was proposing (and most of you have probably never read the Christy Miller Series, but you should); it was Squints Palledorous jumping into the deep end of the pool, knowing he couldn't swim and essentially faking his own drowning all so he could kiss lifeguard Wendy Peffercorn; it was Ariel giving up her beautiful singing voice so that she could become human to spend time with Eric.

Obviously entertainment media had a huge influence on my perception of love.

Over the years, however, I've come to see that love is so much more than my youthful mind could have imagined. It's not just some concept of two people realizing they want to be more than friends. It's not just butterflies in your stomach when your dream person enters the room. It's not just a feeling.

Love is something you do.

I went on a walk with my mom yesterday, and I was reminded of why my definition of love changed so drastically as my heart matured. As we were walking down my parents' street toward the duck pond, my mom noticed a nail laying on the sidewalk—something I didn't even see and something most people probably would have ignored. She, however, picked up that dirty thing and carried it with her to dispose of in one of the trash cans at the park. My mom has one of the biggest hearts of anyone you will ever meet, and she has this unexplainable love for any living being. She's constantly caring for others, even strangers who could potentially encounter a nail on the pavement. That's what love does.

As we continued our walk, we chatted about various things, and we mentioned one particular person who is not the nicest individual in the world. My mom easily could have said plenty of negative things about this person, but she didn't. In fact, she started pointing out all of this individual's good qualities. It hit me in that moment that my mom is one of the reasons I am such a fan of love—she has always modeled it so purely and in a way that draws others in to her warmth and sincerity. She doesn't want to waste her time bashing others when she can be using it to build people up and use kindness in place of hate. That's what love does.

And don't think that entertainment media can't also show examples of what love really means: it's Anna stepping in front of Hans's sword meant to kill her sister, Elsa; it's King Triton letting his daughter go and turning Ariel back into a human when he realizes how much she wants to be with Eric; it's Ross folding his hand of cards and not letting anyone know what he had, because he wanted Rachel to win their meaningless game of poker and to see her happy; it's Dottie Hinson dropping the ball at the plate so that her younger sister, Kit, could be the hero for once; it's Lee Brice singing about hating to dance yet twirling the woman he adores around the dance floor; it's Bruce Willis pushing Ben Affleck out of the way and giving up his own life in Armageddon so that his daughter won't lose the man she is going to marry; it's Thomas J. losing his life in My Girl when he has an allergic reaction to hornet stings after he goes to look for his best friend's mood ring that she lost when the two were playing in the woods; it's Belle taking the place of her father to live in imprisonment with a seemingly ferocious beast.

That's what love does.

I still have my fairytale beliefs of falling in love and kissing in gazebos, but I also know that love is more than writing across a screen that says, "…and they lived happily ever after." We have the ability to show love to others every single day if we are willing to take on a little bit of selflessness. The greatest act of love this world has ever seen is the epitome of that: grace so big that He died on a cross so that we can live.

I love seeing examples of love all around me. It makes my heart smile when I realize that there are genuine people out there who truly want to love others. I've never told a guy I love him, and I've never had one say those three little words to me, but I know a love so much bigger than words could ever express.

And that is a reason to love love even more.

Fill the tank

More than once in life, you will discover that you were wrong about something.

And, more than once in life, that lesson will come the hard way.

My Wednesdays are typically very busy. I'm usually out the door for my run by 4 a.m. so I can come home and get ready and make the 45-minute drive to work to be there by 7. It's "deadline day" for our television news program where I teach, so the kids are frantically trying to finish their stories, while I watch and approve them all. After work, I make a 45-minute drive to volunteer with a youth running program then hustle off to make another 45-minute drive to get to my small group at my church on time. I enjoy all of these activities, but I'm usually pretty exhausted from the long day and all of the driving by the time I finally make it home.

An important thing to remember when you spend so much time in your car is that it needs gas to get you places.

Seriously, don't forget that.

Last Wednesday, I had already had a pretty chaotic day and then was a little late in leaving to go to my small group, and I tend to stress out a little when I am running late. I knew I needed gas, but I told myself I probably had enough to get me to the church and that I could just fill up on the way home. I had seen the light on, reminding me I was low on fuel, but I chose to ignore it.

Do not ignore that light.

As you've probably predicted at this point, the results of my decisions were not good for me. Not too far into my trek across the metroplex, my car just stopped moving. Apparently that's what happens when there isn't any gas in the tank. I've only run out of gas twice in my life, and both times have happened on highways. The first time was almost 10 years ago, and I had called my brother to come help me. This time, I decided I am old enough to handle such a situation on my own, so I started walking toward the nearest gas station, which was probably about two miles away (that's a solid guess—I didn't start my Garmin).

Had I stopped for gas, I would have been a little bit late to my small group. Instead, I missed it entirely and got to learn a lesson for which I really wasn't in the mood. I mean, who really wants to be reminded of how her irresponsibility came back to bite her in the butt?

Sometimes we get going so fast in life and get caught up in our own plans that we forget the little details that are actually quite significant. If you don't fill your tank with gas, you could find yourself walking to a gas station on a Wednesday evening; if you are trying to maintain a garden but don't water your plants, they will likely die; if you don't set your alarm, you might sleep through your morning meeting; if you forget your spouse's birthday or an anniversary, you might be sleeping on the couch; if you don't take your dog out before you go to bed, you might be cleaning up a mess in the morning; if you don't do your homework or study for a test, you might fail; if you try to put together IKEA furniture without looking at the picture instructions, you might end up with some backward home decor; if you don't show people love, they may never know Jesus.

The little things can be huge.

Just like a car needs to be filled with fuel to run and take you places, we need to be filling ourselves with enough to get us through the daily opportunities we face in life. While food and sleep are obvious staples, we also need to fill our hearts with love so that we can give it off to others. And it's hard to do that when you're running on empty.

And the best part is love is free, so you can keep filling up with as much as you want.

Definitely don't ignore that.