Me Before You- Do Implicit Messages Matter?

If you haven’t yet read this book or watched the movie, I should warn you that this will have spoilers. But also, I’m going to recommend that you skip watching it (I honestly can’t remember the last time I actively recommended that people avoid a movie I had seen, this is so weird) so just accept the spoilers, read this post, and move on with your life without subjecting yourself to the movie.

I was expecting a tragic love story. I had watched the trailers, and I was prepared to cry (although to be totally fair, I hadn't actually read the book so I had only vague ideas about the ending and was thus not totally prepared) The movie did produce many tears, but they were unexpectedly angry tears. This was initially because I was angry and frustrated at Will Traynor deciding to end his life, upset at what seemed like a selfish decision that if he couldn’t have life on his terms, he wouldn’t live at all. I started my cry hurt by the devastating choice a fictional character was making, but I quickly moved on to being angry about the people selling me this story.

I wanted a love story and what I got instead was a depressed man insisting on his own autonomy while simultaneously attempting to convince a woman that the choices she is making about her life are a waste of her potential and that she needs to live differently. Her feelings grow from “I hate this job and I don’t want you to die” to “I guess I have feelings for you and I still don’t want you to die.” Meanwhile, both of them manipulate and keep things from each other. Now, don’t get me wrong, this is Hollywood and I don’t expect too much in terms of a love story, but the climax of their "romance" seemed to be that, as Samuel James wrote, “Louisa finally receives his affection, but his true love remains his life before the accident.” This movie has less to say about love and more to say about disability, human value, and what makes life meaningful, and these messages are where things get really disturbing.

Essentially, the message this movie sends is “If you are disabled in some way that you feel prevents you from living life the way you want to, death is a totally acceptable option. And if you truly love someone and they want to die, you will accept their choice and be there for them in the way that they want you to be.” Someone else curtly summed it up as "Live boldly... unless you are in a wheelchair".

“I can’t live the life I want so I should die” is simply, deeply, untrue. And before you tell me that it's okay for the movie to make that truth claim, or not okay for me to reject it because 'some people in his situation actually feel that way'... let's address that.

First of all, Will is a fictional character created by an able-bodied woman who knew nothing about quadriplegia prior to writing this book, and who somehow managed to avoid talking to a single person with quadriplegia during the course of her extensive medical research on the topic. Will represents less an actual person experiencing a life changing disability than he represents able-bodied people's perceptions of disability. As many disabled people have already expressed with much more eloquence and authority than I have, this movie perpetuates harmful stereotypes about disability while eliminating realistic pictures of what daily life with disability looks like (one can only assume because the makers find the realities of disability distasteful, shameful, or perhaps just unromantic). Secondly, regarding the 'someone somewhere actually feels that way' sentiment...  if I actually came across someone with a spinal cord injury that resulted in quadriplegia who felt hopeless and depressed and wanted to die, I would like to think that I could compassionately respond to them in a way that validates their experience and emotions without agreeing with them that they should die.

As I have said, disability activists have pretty clearly expressed the various problems with this story and the way that it was told, both from a community perspective as well as their own experiences. But I haven't heard voices speaking up on behalf of those who are depressed and suicidal, and so I would like to make one additional point.

For more than a decade now, we have been sending able-bodied and exceptionally fit men and women in the prime of their lives to go fight wars for our country. And many of them have come home with life-altering injuries. They have demonstrated totally understandable difficulties adjusting to civilian life post-injury, not the least of which because they devoted years to a mission that they are no longer a part of. That loss of purpose, as well as the daily realities of life with a disability, takes a heavy emotional toll, and is a contributing factor to the high rate of veteran suicide. What is that rate, you wonder? 22 people. Every. Day.

Maybe I am biased. Perhaps I am overly sensitive because of the work that I do, but in our current climate, do we really need the implicit messages in Me Before You? Are they what we should be telling people struggling with depression and suicide? Are they what we should be telling their families and friends?

Can we agree that anyone taking their own life is tragic? Because I think it is possible, if we don't pay attention to the messages filtering through our experiences, to become nonchalant and lackadaisical about this truth. And I think it is possible, if we aren't careful about the messages we are tacitly supporting, that real harm might be done in the lives of real people.  Either we decide, as a community, that life is valuable, so we support each other and fight for each other and help others find meaning and purpose in life, or... we decide its a grey area and don't fight and people die.

Perhaps you think this is over dramatic. I can accept that, and I will simply say, just in case the messages that we send matter: Every person is valuable, regardless of ability or disability. Every life has meaning, even in the midst of difficulty. Everyone should live boldly. Everyone should live.

Who Do You Want To Be?

Yesterday, a dear woman left this life to be with Jesus. For those of you who have followed Kara Tippetts' journey through her blog Mundane Faithfulness, you already know how amazing she was, what an impact she had on the lives of people around her, and how much she will be missed by those who loved her.

As I read some of her last posts and those of her husband and friends from the past few weeks, I was-as always-overcome with a wash of emotions. With her simple, deep eloquence, she revealed things I didn't know about our visible and invisible lives, and my heart was stirred. Grief and hope, hurt and joy welled up within me, with an added blend of encouragement and discouragement.

Encouragement: Have you gotten a glimpse of this woman's life? It was beautiful. She was beautiful. Over and over, the people who love her spoke of her genuine kindness and her gift of loving people. Her deep trust and reliance on Jesus was so evident; she helped people (me) to see Jesus more clearly. Her personality was so precious and unique, her giftings from the Lord were poured out and used for his glory. I want to be more like that. I want to be Kara.

Discouragement: I am not Kara. Becoming like her seems impossible in some ways and actually is impossible in others. I am yearning to be something I am not, a cricket watching a butterfly.

The fog and gloom of this winter is slowly lifting, and I am starting to feel myself coming alive again. I am beginning to care about things and it feels so good. But as the apathy begins to fade, I am seeing so much of myself that I don't want to see, and I am dissatisfied with who I am. It's like I have this annoying girl with me all the time that I can't get away from, and she is NEVER going to be like the women I aspire to be.

But I am not meant to be Kara. I am not meant to be Corrie, or Susanna, or Amy, or Kim, or Marty (although they are all beautiful examples).

I am meant to be like Jesus.

And I am promised the Holy Spirit to help me become more like Jesus. And I am promised that it is not just up to me, that God WILL make it happen.

"Beloved, we are God's children now, and what we will be has not yet appeared; but we know that when he appears we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is." -1 John 3:2

Go back and actually read that verse. Think about it. 

As I become more like Jesus, I feel more like myself, the self I was meant to be. I remember this feeling of becoming myself, even though I don't feel it right now. 

I think it is okay to yearn for transformation, to desire to be someone you are not (yet). Often for me, this feeling is a companion of conviction, and the desire to partner with God in his work is a good thing! But ultimately I am being transformed, which is a passive verb. I am watching and being amazed at what God is doing with my life. Well, at the moment, I am not seeing what God is doing. But I am asking him to work, and waiting expectantly to be amazed. 

Because God can do something even more amazing than making me like Kara Tippetts. He can make me like Jesus. 

When Life Gives You Snow, Go To Snowball

Last weekend, I went up to Gettysburg for Snowball, because I only live an hour away and there were friends and a big band and swing music, so really why not?

Except I wasn't sure it was a good idea. I try not to go to Gettysburg when I am feeling particularly sad or discontent with life, because college was great but I'm not a student anymore, and I don't want to try (in vain) to hold on to something that God gave and took away at the proper time. Also, I like be able to pour into friends I visit when I am there, to listen to them and encourage them. I don't want my Gburg visits to consist of me lounging around complaining about my life.

And let's be real... sad, discontent, and lounging around all describe this winter very well. I have always disliked winter, but I have never been so consistently depressed (for lack of a better word that doesn't connote clinical diagnosis) as I have this year. Its wearing me down. I don't like being sad and unmotivated all the time. I really want to care about life again.

But anyway, I went to Gettysburg. And it was the most delightful thing! I got to catch up with dear friends, put on a fancy dress, get my hair done (oh, the joy of friends to fix your hair), and went swing dancing. And then, because that wasn't glorious enough, the next morning I went to Hanover Valley Presbyterian Church for the first time since graduation, enjoyed a wonderful service, hugged more dear friends, met precious friends' new children, and got more life-giving people time. It was so encouraging to hear what God is doing on campus and in the hearts of people I love there. It was so encouraging to be reunited with church family and worship God together. It was so encouraging to wear heels and dance for hours. Why had I stayed away from Gettysburg for so long?

Sometimes, my pride in thinking I know what is best for me might get in the way of what is actually best for me. 

This morning in church, we were singing this lovely song, Good Good Father, (I'm just waiting for warm weather and a guitar player so we can sit outside and sing this with delightful harmonies all the time) and this line stuck out to me:

"You know just what we need before we say a word"

Of course I know this is true, but what if this is actually true?!? What if God really knows what I need before I tell him... What if God knows what I need regardless of whether or not I know what I need?

What if he knows that there is something I need more than sunshine and warmth? What if he knows that I have a much more desperate need, and he is fulfilling it without me even asking like the good Father he is? I need His presence daily. I need to be brought to a place where I recognize my need for Him. I need my heart to know that He quenches my thirst and learn to go to Him. I need to be striped of my pride and given a heart full of compassion.

I need a living hope even more than I need springtime. (And as I walked to my car, contemplating these things after the service... the sunshine kissed my face, and a gentle breeze brought a slight scent of spring, even in the midst of all this snow. He's a good, good father.)

Summer Doesn't Come Quickly

I need some sunshine in my life desperately. I can feel it building up, the weight of winter bearing down on me. Tuesday I got to experience sunshine for more than 10 minutes! The last time that happened on a week day was probably... three weeks ago? Don't get me wrong, it was glorious, and I was VERY happy to be shoveling snow surrounded by natural light when I should have been at work. I just need more light than this. I am craving bright colors like other people crave their favorite food. Basically, I am not made for winter.

"Oh, the ennui. How will we survive?"          -Proverb

I could go on with the complaints: I don't want to eat, I can't seem to drink enough water, I'm tired and cold all the time, I can't seem to get excited about anything, don't get me started on my hair... but that stuff isn't helpful. I don't need to convince you that winter is dreadful and I can't wait for spring.

A smart woman making a metaphor once said that "summer doesn't come quickly," and the literal truth of that stood out to me. Spring will come. It always does. The days will get longer and green growing things will poke out of the ground and then flowers will come and everything I'm dreaming of will be a reality. But this is going to take some time for that to happen, and I can't just hibernate until it does.

So how do you make winter bearable? What can you do to remind yourself that life is worth living during all four seasons, even if this one is dark and cold? Here are a few things I am using to get through the winter:

1. Music. Listening to it, singing it... both are so helpful. Listening to the right music gives me energy or improves my mood. Other times, I just cocoon happily in my dark car on the way to/from work, but at least it keeps me awake. I love getting together with friends on a dark winter night, having a nice glass of wine, and improv-ing our way through whatever Broadway musicals/Celtic music/ worship songs/bad pop we have on hand.

2. Friends. Related to my first point, friends make life better. Go on an adventure with them, plan an adventure, at least hang out around them. Some people like to be around lots of people, others like just a buddy or two, and some (like me) are happiest in small groups. I confess that when I am low on energy, I don't want to make plans and spend time with people... but if I go too long without being with people, it really drains my energy. This self-perpetuating cycle is the worst and so I try to force myself out of it (with mixed success depending on the day).

3. Bright Colors. I get as much of these as possible from artwork, photographs, screensavers, desktop images, and even from clothes. If I have to endure coat-wearing temperatures, that coat will be red. My scarves will be vibrant. My cardigan will be fuchsia (as long as you can't see it and the red coat at the same time). Right now, I am feeling a strong desire for more floral print in my life, at least until actual flowers come back. Oh, and never underestimate the power of strawberries in the dead of winter. If I can find ripe ones, I love to bring strawberries as a snack when people get together.

4. Winter dresses. They have long sleeves, they are winter colors, they look great with leggings and boots. Now is the time to rock them, and somehow this brings me joy despite the fact that they are not really warm (compared to actual winter clothes). The long sleeves are mostly just for show, but they do prove that some pretty things exist uniquely in the winter. I would tentatively add boots, scarves, and sweaters to this point as well, except that I personally get enough wear out of these in the fall that by winter it isn't exciting anymore. Dresses though... they still get me out of my warm bed on Sunday mornings.

5. Cat Snuggles. I can't say that these make me want to get up and go (quite the opposite, actually), but they certainly make me happier. And since Elizabeth doesn't like the cold either, she uses me for body heat in the winter and I am perfectly fine with that.

I promise I was about to get up off the couch until
Lizzy decided to foil my plans.

6. Winter sports AKA books and crafts ;) I used to LOVE skiing, but my knee and my budget don't allow for it anymore. I currently get much more enjoyment out of reading, knitting, quilting, and all those crafts that are the most fun in your warm cozy house, preferably near a fireplace. At the moment, I am giving Sense & Sensibility another shot, reading a psychology textbook about attachment, re-reading Disciplines of Grace (I swear I'm going to finish it this time) and finishing a scrapbook that should have been completed years ago. Besides, of course, knitting ALL the things, as is appropriate.

7. Hypervigilance about daylight. Starting on Dec 21st, the days are getting longer. Only by minuscule amounts, but if you are motivated enough to pay attention, it is noticeable. Since I am (unfortunately, since it's not really adaptive) already hypervigilant about the days getting shorter in the fall, the least my non-superpower can do for me is pay attention through the rest of the winter as sunrise comes earlier and sunset comes later. Look, there is hope! Spring is coming.

I'm sure this is incomplete, but it's long enough. What did I miss here? What gets you through the winter? I'm quite interested in your thoughts, especially if they will make survival till spring a little more pleasant.

Sweetums doesn't care at all, but if he did, his suggestion would be to grow
more fur for the winter. He's got 99 problems but the cold ain't one.

The Strength Of Men

I love that God made men. I also love that I am not one. Sometimes, I think it is easier to appreciate something from the outside, easier to recognize something that is different.

This week, I saw the movie Lone Survivor. It was excellent... difficult to watch[i], but I still loved it. For those of you who haven't seen it, I won't explain the entire plot, but will simply say that it is based on a true story of SEAL team 10 serving in Afghanistan in 2005, and that the title speaks for itself. Watching the movie was painful and involved a lot of wincing and mentally trying to keep myself together, but it also moved me deeply. And it kept me awake that night thinking.

There was a point in the movie, during which the team was literally tumbling down a mountain and I was feeling ALL the conflicting emotions, when I thought to myself, "There is something about men that I love." At the moment, I couldn't put that 'something' into words (because, really, too many feels at once), but as I thought about it later, the word that came to mind was "strength." It wasn't just the physical strength that the men displayed, but the strength of mind and character as they lived and died during their last day on this earth with courage and honor.

As I watched them, they seemed very... other. Very different from me. I could not have done what they did, and it made me appreciate that they could. And yes, I know that I have not been trained to be a Navy SEAL. But the difference seemed deeper, more qualitative. I too, have been made for war, but not for that part of war. My heart yearns to fight, but it is a fight to rebuild, to restore, to redeem, and to rescue. I want to be on the front lines of battle, but it is a different part of the battle, and fighting looks different where I want to be.

And so, as I lay awake and reflected on their fight, I rejoiced that God has equipped and prepared men to fight in some wars that I am not called to. I rejoiced that he has given them the strength they need for their battles, which frees me and inspires me to use the strength he gives me for my own battles. The strength of those men I have never met inspire me, but they are not the only ones who do so. I am inspired by men of strength who wage a Relentless Fight against pervasive sin and equip others to fight with them. I am inspired by men of courage who fight to be a father to the fatherless. I am inspired by men of honor who take a stand against sexual violence.

Although my heart is moved by the strength of all these men, they only dimly reflect the strength of one man. A man who, though innocent, was beaten until he was marred beyond human likeness. After this beating, which had killed others before him, he hauled a slab of wood on his bleeding back up a hill so that he could be nailed to it. And although he could have called down legions of warriors to help him, he allowed himself to be crucified while bearing the weight of every sin ever committed and experiencing a soul crushing separation from the person he loved most. The strength of other men inspires me, but it is the strength of this man, Jesus Christ, that empowers me.

P.S. It was an intense movie. Cats just didn't quite fit. But of course there are some pretty cool cats serving on the front lines, too. So enjoy some wartime cats.

P.P.S. In case that wasn't enough cats for you, there are also cats in the Middle East who deserve some love.

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[i] Side note for gents who want to care for the ladies in their lives... war movies like this usually leave us with deep feelings, and we have some hefty emotional processing to do even though the movie is over. As such, although watching a war movie might make you want to immediately play Call of Duty, doing that will make us want to cry. We sort of want to cry already, so its helpful if you just give us some processing time to pull ourselves together. (And this might not be true of all ladies, but its true for me and the girlfriends I've discussed this with.)

The In-Between Life

Last night, I watched the movie Julie & Julia. Besides making me want to cook and eat everything that has butter in the recipe (isn’t everything better with butter?) it reminded me of how long it had been since I had worked on my blog and posted real updates about my real life. But the thing is, I don’t want to update you about my real life.  I feel like my life is frustrating, inconsequential, and not going as planned. As I consider updating you, I feel quite a bit like Julie did while having lunch with her friends. 

(Except that I love cob salad. And I am not 30.)

Like Julie, I don’t feel particularly keen to tell you about my life. I can give the peppy, chirpy, 5 second sound bite I give people either to convey that I am quite happy with the way life is going or to make my life seem as impressive as possible (and imply that I am succeeding more than I am failing). But it’s more propaganda than news. Talking about my real life causes that squirmy, shame-y feeling.

The truth is, I haven’t found the job I have been looking for. I am past the deadline I set myself, and its time for me to look for more ‘in-between’ jobs to pay the bills and those approaching student loans. I don’t want to give you that update, because I don’t like it one bit. Truthfully, I want to be in grad school, and the research job I need to get me there was already supposed to be my in-between job. I don’t want an in-between-in-between job. So I feel frustrated and edgy, and I’m probably not very nice to the people around me most of the time. It feels as if I am a rough chunk of rock (maybe sandstone?), and whatever layers of fabric I normally have wrapped around to make me look all pretty and cuddly have mostly disappeared, so now anyone who gets close ends up with scrapes. Its not a very pretty picture, is it? Life isn’t going the way I would like, and I am not responding in the way I would like.

So yes, I don’t like telling you about my life when its not going smoothly the way I want towards clear success at an appropriate pace (according to my assessment). However, no one else likes talking about their life when it’s like that, either, so we all just feel alone and isolated when actually we’re not. I have found that when I talk about how things really are and how I really feel, people often encourage me by talking about a time when the same thing happened to them, or they open up and actually tell me about the current struggles in their lives that leave them with feelings similar to mine. This may come as a shock (I feel like it shocks me over and over), but frustration and shame are not uniquely mine. Who knew?

So take heart. Things aren’t amazing and awesome in my life at the moment. My unsuccessful job search leaves me fighting frequent feelings of guilt, shame, and failure. My grandma is really sick—she had to have her second leg amputated a few weeks ago, and her recovery is slow—leaving us (particularly Mom) worried about Mam-maw’s health and care.

Catnip mice. Absolutely hilarious.

Most of my friends are far away and I miss Gettysburg. But there are good things, too. I am knitting a sweater and its going really well. I gave my cats toy mice rolled in catnip yesterday, and it was hilarious. My car has been getting an extra mpg every time I check it, which means my gas is going further (yay!).

Most of life is lived in-between the highs and lows. And that’s where I am. It’s okay to be there. 

Reclaiming the 4th of July

No, this post isn't late. In my family, Independence Day is celebrated on the weekend closet to the forth. It just barely begins on the actual 4th of July...

Growing up, the 4th of July was my absolute favorite holiday... I liked it better than Christmas, Easter, and my birthday. For a closet pyromaniac who loves her big family, it was the best. We have a picnic "up on the hill" (my grandparents house, my Aunt & Uncle's house, and my house are adjoining) where around 125 family members, extended family, unofficially adopted family, and friends gather to party Martin-style: lots of food, drinks, huge fireworks (which are legal to buy somewhere outside of Maryland), swimming all day, bonfire once it’s dark, every outdoor game you can think of, singing around the piano, and best of all… family from out of town who stay all weekend. The other holidays just couldn’t compare.

Unfortunately, there are some pretty painful memories from a 4^th of July half a dozen years ago that put a damper on thing for me. I went through a period of disliking all the holidays for awhile, and although I am pleased to say that they aren’t as insufferable anymore, I can’t claim any as a favorite. Tarnished as it is, I can’t let any other holiday surpass the 4^th of July and take the position of favorite.

So I am reclaiming it.

Even though it might not be the most fun this year (or last year or the year before…), I will be at the picnic. I have already painted my

nails red white and blue (as I have with my Grandma since I was little) and I will be wearing an appropriately patriotic outfit tomorrow. And things will not be like they were before*, but I am going to enjoy myself.

In many ways, it feels like I am fighting a one-woman battle. Many in my family have taken the “pretend everything is fine until everyone is over it” route. Others take the “its too painful and I don’t enjoy it, so I’m not going”** route. I have a different approach… it is painful and it won’t be entirely enjoyable, but I am going to keep going until it is. It certainly won’t be this year, but ask me again a couple more years down the road. My hope is that by the time I am starting a family of my own, I will be able to enjoy the 4^th with them, and we can love it together for all the reasons I did... and for new reasons found along the way.

I love that we celebrate Independence Day not on the day that we won our independence, but on the day we declared it. We don’t wait to celebrate when the battle is over, but on the day we pledged to fight. Thus, I am fighting to reclaim my love of the 4^th of July… and tomorrow, I will be celebrating.

(Lady Margaret and Elizabeth have mixed feelings about the 4th of July as well.
Wearing decorations does not exactly please them. Chasing/eating decorations, on the other hand...)

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* Things will never be the same as they are in the nostalgia of our memories. I just read a really good post about the 4th by a friend that I found very relatable. Its a great read if you want to check it out!

**That is really an oversimplification of my family’s responses, and I don’t mean to do them the injustice of making their actions into a caricature. They don’t all just ignore the past or avoid the picnic, but many who have been affected seem to… withdrawal. Sometimes that is physical, other years it’s emotional. Either way, I miss them. 

A User’s Guide to Rejoicing With Those Who Rejoice

1: Stop thinking about yourself for a hot second.

2: Think about life from the perspective of some other person.

3: Rejoice with them.

This might seem overly simplistic. It’s not. Rejoicing with others is very simple, even though it might not be very easy. An exciting job. The perfect grad program. A wonderful relationship. When the people around you are getting things that you want but don’t have, it may seem difficult to truly rejoice with them, but I want to encourage you that deep down, its not really that complicated. Mostly, you and I just need empathy.

For me, one of the biggest barriers to rejoicing with others is my own selfishness. Luckily, there is good news*. For one thing, you don’t have to cease thinking about yourself FOREVER and suddenly become some superhuman in order to rejoice with others. If you can manage it for even a little bit, you are well on your way! My problem is that I usually make it to step three and am in the middle of rejoicing when all of a sudden thoughts of myself come crashing back in, and I remember all the reasons why whatever I am rejoicing over in someone else's life makes my life seem sad or negatively affects me. At this point, you can choose to remain focused on yourself, or you can choose to focus on the other person. I’m not suggesting that you choose emotions (if you can control how you feel, please teach me how!) but it is much more doable to choose where you continue to focus. More good news… your emotions come naturally depending on where you are focusing.

Real life example: my best friend recently got engaged! I am so happy for her! Really, it’s super exciting. Now, does her exciting relationship make me feel more single? I don’t understand how it is possible for one to be more single… but yes. ;) Realistically, does her upcoming marriage mean that I won’t be able to spend as much time with her, and that our relationship will change as she makes a promise to be someone else’s best friend? Yeah, and that’s sad, because I love her a lot and it will be hard to share her. So if I only ever look at circumstances from my perspective—how things make me feel, how they affect my life—it might be hard to rejoice sometimes. But I love my friend! And if I choose to look at things from her perspective, I know that this is super awesome, amazing, exciting, and worth rejoicing over!

The trick is to choose whether you WANT to rejoice with someone else in the moment or not. You don't have to be a captive to your emotions. I am not saying that you can’t feel your own emotions… you totally can! The great thing about rejoicing with others even if it’s hard is that you don’t have to do it continuously. In the moment, when you are with that other person, you can rejoice with them in love. There will be another time and place for you to reflect and feel and process, and it will be valuable to work out your own feelings then. But at the moment when you are at step three and your own feelings start to creep in, you can decide that now is not that time, and continue to…

Step 4: repeat steps 1-3**.

P.S. In case you should need proposal ideas...

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* Yes, I completely intended to make that double entendre. There is some good news in the fact that it is not impossible to overcome the barrier of your own selfishness and love those around you. There is better news that in a greater sense, it is impossible for you by yourself to overcome your selfishness... But God sent his son to live the sinless life that you couldn’t and die so that your sins are forgiven, which frees us love like him. And that, my friends, is the gospel, which literally means “good news.”

** To be completely honest, once I have veered off of step three, I usually need to take a stop back at the cross and remind myself that Christ died for my sins (including the selfishness that just got me off track) so that I might be righteous instead of condemned for my failures. And he does that because he loves me, which motivates me to love others, which takes me back to step one condemnation-free and with extra motivation. It’s a more complete cycle :)