pretty

For Brandy and The Worst Day of Your Life

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I know we’ve only spoken two or three times. Four at the most. I know I don’t really know you all except for your first name and that you have long brown hair and wear dark rimmed glasses.

You seemed quiet and kind. At least to me. You also struck me as being very pretty. Not the kind of beauty that shouts and parades itself, but the kind that often goes unnoticed by most. But I saw it.

You’ve gotten into deep trouble. Your shame was broadcast and published in a tawdry little rag for thousands to witness. By the way, your mug shot doesn’t do you justice. Not by a long shot.

I want you to know two things:

First of all, I am still your friend. You were kind to me when others weren’t and always spoke to me, even though for you it was the end of a long day for you. I’m still praying for you and hoping and wishing the best for you.

Second, I want you to know that Jesus loves you right now, where you are and just as you are. He sees your mistakes and bad choices and has chosen to love you amyway.

He came to the world for people like you and I. People who just can’t seem to get it right. People who so often want to do good but end up doing the very things they hate.

All Jesus is looking for is the smallest place in your life to start something amazing. Who knows? Maybe one day this most embarrassing and shaming moment will be the first part of your testimony of how God rescued and redeemed you.

His birth in a messy manger proves that there is no mess too ugly and no place too dark and dreary for Him to go to find people loke you and me.

I’m thinking of you, rooting for you, praying for you and as blessed as ever to consider myself,

Your friend

Greg

Fire Bad, Tree Pretty, Me Sleepy

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After working 23 hours in two days and having two nights of sleep where I feel like I woke up every 30 minutes, I am bone tired. Like to the point where I’m not exactly functioning on a higher brain level. Mostly my brain tells me to go to bed.

I’m hoping for a better night of sleep than the last two nights. I had weird dreams and like I said earlier, I woke up like clockwork, not because I wanted to or because I was so worried about anything. I just did. Rude.

But I wanted to tell you before I do call it a night that I’m thankful for you reading this and all my other blogs. It really does mean a lot to me that you take time out of your crazy schedules and choose my posts out of all the posts in the world to read.

So thank you.

Fire bad, tree pretty, me go sleep now.

An ordinary guy’s thoughts on pretty vs. beautiful

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grace kelly 2

I am pretty much going  way outside my areas of expertise on this one. I am not a fashion person. I have spent a long time watching and observing, and have come up with my own theories. Here’s one.

There’s a big difference to me between pretty and beautiful.

Pretty is common. I see a lot of pretty girls. Beauty is much rarer and harder to define, but you know it when you see it.

Pretty is what you put on, but beauty is what comes out of you. It’s not what you wear, but who you are. Pretty is cosmetics and beauty is character.

Pretty is something you see with your eyes, but beauty is something you find when you look with your heart. You have to have your eyes open to notice. To really be aware not just of how she looks, but how she acts and how she treats others.

Pretty fades. Gravity wins and time takes its toll. Beauty grows over time as the character inside blossoms and grows toward maturity and Christlikeness.

I decided again tonight that I want beauty, even if it means waiting longer and looking with a different set of eyes. To me, kindness and compassion in a woman are beautiful. Loving the unloveable and giving to those who can’t give back and socializing with those who are not like you is beautiful.

It means I have to be a man of character if I want a woman of character. That I continue to train my eyes to see women as princesses and not objects, as society tells us they are.

There you have it. I am no expert, but I know what I feel. I hope I’m not the only one who feels this way, but I am ok with it if I am.