April 26, 2010

I have gotten very lackadaisical with my blogging. Guess life has just been more than I can handle... oh right, it has. But it's today that reminds me: I have a life... I'm alive. 4 years ago today, 5 wonderful people lost theirs. 5 people who were better than me... who made a positive impact on others; 5 people who weren't a continual drain on life... 5 people who were so in love with Jesus that though they had bad days, their circumstances didn't determine their joy because their joy was founded on the Rock.

It was 4 years ago today that I was faced with a decision: do I go with this whole "God thing"? Do I believe what I grew up learning about? Do I buy into it? Or, is it just a bunch of fluff that people believe in to make themselves feel better? It was 4 years ago today that I thought I'd lost one of the most amazing people I know... one who deserved to live because of the beauty of her spirit. It was 4 years today that I learned what tragedy was; what seeing people who were so, so precious lost in the blink of an eye. There were so many components to that evening... to that accident... to that night that were connected to the people in my world, to ALL of the people who were so greatly impacted by these incredible children of God.

I remember it all like it was yesterday... and not a day goes by that I don't question why them... instead of me. I'm sure that sounds as an insecure plea for someone to say "oh no, Kara, of course not". I'm certainly not saying that in search of an ego boost, rather because those peoples' faith, their impact, their presence was so GREAT. What I long to be, strive to be, and so badly fail at.

I was fortunate to get one of my closest friends back... someone who brings so much joy to so many; the type of person who knows what it's like to be a true friend. It was the tidal waves of emotion, confusion & doubt that forced me into evaluating my faith. As I reflect upon those lives, those memories and how it's changed me, all of the feelings that rush back (both good & bad) remind me of the Lord's omnipotence and mercy.

I take this life and every breath I take for granted so often... when in reality, my life, is "but a vapor"... nothing more.

Chivalry isn't dead?!

That's right; I'm 98% sure that chivalry isn't completely dead... yet. It is, however, dying, and that is quite unfortunate in my not-so-expert opinion.

I certainly can't speak for anyone else but myself on this issue, but I'm a fan of chivalry. A big fan. I've had the privilege of watching chivalrous men such as my father & grandfathers and I like it. I like the idea of gentlemen & ladies. I like the idea of manners (I was raised by the etiquette police, I can't help myself!). I like the idea of being protected, taken care of, provided for in the way God intended for a man to do for a woman.

Don't get me wrong; I'm independent. Extremely independent. Often, too independent. HOWEVER, I am in no way shape or form (and I pray I never will be anywhere near) a Femi-nazi. In fact, evidenced by previous posts, I have a strong dislike for the "I am woman, hear me roar" types. Give me a break. No you're not, you're just someone who is cynical, hasn't fallen in love and/or has been hurt. No one's heart is that hard, and if I'm wrong and they are, I feel really bad for those people.

Being a female is often no fun. Let's be serious here, females get to go through a lot of things that males don't have to. I'm not trying to be a self martyr or say that being a male is easy (I've never been, PTL, so I wouldn't know). What I am saying, is that we deal with things that will never fall under the category of "fun" regardless of how you position it.

Ok, back to the point here. Chivalry. The reason it's a dying art, is because we (the American female population, and yes unfortunately I have to include myself in this) are extremely guilty of either consciously or inadvertently squelching it. I saw something the other day that's really stuck with me:
I work in the largest building in the state of Indiana. People are constantly coming and going. I saw a man in his mid-30's hold the door for a woman in her mid-50's. Her response? To my demise, it wasn't the gracious "thank you" that should have been. Rather it was "what are you doing? I can get the door myself!" followed with a hasty sigh and dirty look.

COME ON LADIES. If we (and again, sadly enough I'm included) want gentlemen; want to be swept off our feet by our Prince Charming, then we MUST allow them to hold the broom and/or ride the white horse. It's no wonder men stopped doing chivalrous acts. If I were that 30 something guy, I wouldn't do it again! I'm not saying that this is all women's fault and that men aren't to blame to a degree (we all know it takes 2 to tango...) but what I am saying is that if this is truly something we want, and want to keep around, then we'd better do something about it.

You know what's even funnier? There is still a group of people that get that. Know who? Well, I will tell you: senior citizens. Know why? Because they get IT. And by IT I mean all of the things that we don't. Both genders of the older generations understand life and lived in a way that put us to shame. I was obviously born in the wrong generation. More on this subject to follow...