not sure i said yes...

Atop the veranda at the J. Paul Getty Museum in Los Angeles, Matthew Olthoff asked me to marry him. And I'm not sure I said yes.

Rewind.

Three weeks ago I started snooping around and asking subtle questions about my birthday. As coyly and coquettishly as possible, I tried discovering the master plan for my birthday experience. After a few days of failed discoveries, I flat out asked what we were doing for my birthday in an exasperated tone. Oh, that's right, he dryly stated without lifting his eyes from his computer screen. Your birthday is coming up.

Without getting into reasons as to why I ignored him for the full hour of Project Runway, I will say I was internally cooling off and trying to love him in spite of his lack of care, waning love, and overwhelming apathy. But I was so angry.

It felt as if he didn't care. He didn't love me. He had taken for granted who I was in his life and I was now officially part of his office furniture. And, if I'm being totally honest with you, this made me question staying in our relationship. If he can't love me the way I need to be loved or the way I love him, I confessed to my mother, I'm not sure he is the one for me.

Fast forward.

Tuesday, April 6th

Arriving to the Getty was like arriving to the Disneyland of nerds. And I felt at home. Matt and I sat on a bench with a pastry and hot beverage and talked about life, the blessings God has given me, and how special he made me feel. I still had no clue he was proposing.

After a few art collections had been viewed, he pulled out another present for me while we sat on the lawn of the Getty garden. It was a book I've wanted but couldn't find. Score! Under the golden California sun we read and laughed and chatted about things we loved. I still had no clue he was proposing.

He packed an amazing lunch with various cheeses, salads, drinks, and love. He insisted we move to a new location for lunch. Begrudgingly I complied, but did so while complaining about leaving the perfectly great spot by the tree.

Atop the veranda with the Hollywood hills, downtown LA, and the Pacific ocean as our backdrop, we ate lunch and spoke about what life in the future would entail while the wind blew lightly across our faces. As dishes were wiped off and food put away, Matt asked me what I wanted to do next. I said, Today has been perfect. But I would really love to go read some more!

In true movie script form he pulls out a book wrapped in clear cellophane and says, Well... I think you should read this. He created a book complied with old emails, pictures from the last year, prayers he wrote for me, personality traits we each possess, and through it all, I had no clue he was proposing.

As I turned each page of the book I realized how much he loved me, how well he knew me, and how much he cared. The entire month he belabored over insuring I would be surprised. The lack of care was a front. The apathy was a lie. The waning love was sheer acting talent. The last page had a trifold adhered to it, sealed with a sticker. Inside was the most beautiful letter he's ever written ending with the words, Bianca Juarez, will you marry me?

I'm not sure I even said yes. I think it was more along the sobbing lines of, I'mSoSorryIDoubtedYouILoveYouSoMuchAndI'mSorry. He kissed my forehead and slipped the ring on my finger as I cried like baby. I'm not even sure I said yes.

Matt, my answer is yes. A resounding yes! If I could marry you tomorrow and wake up next to you for the rest of my life, either in a hut or a mansion, I would. My life is better because of you and you constantly push me to discover who I am, who God is, and how I can change the world for better. I promise I will never leave you or abandon our new family and my commitment is for life... even when I want to give up and quit. Thank you for taking me back--twice. I love you more today than yesterday... but not as much as tomorrow.

news, hints, and incourage...

There's some big news I want to share with you all, but it'll have to wait until tomorrow. There's so many details I need to sort through and right now, I can't even think straight. Here's a hint: it starts with en- and ends with -gaged. Oh yeah, baby, you heard right!

In the mean time, it's my monthly post on (in)courage, a website of collected writings from different women from around the country. If you've never checked it out, take some time to check it out! The bloggers are amazing and I'm honored to write alongside of them.

To read the post in it's entirety or post a comment, click here:

The room filled will chattering girls, laughing boys, and shushing teachers. It was chapel time. The mandatory, one-hour service where all good Christian kids go and eagerly await a required bible study.

Tough crowd.

They were the Christian picture of scholastic perfection. Pressed uniforms, light makeup for girls, neatly combed hair for boys. I began to share on the given topic for chapel that particular day, but something was amiss. There was an air of hypocrisy creeping into the room and choking hold of the dark truth in hearts and minds.

I've turned off comments here so you can join the conversation at (in)courage!

things i've learned in 29 years of life...

Today marks the day I'm officially... [cough, cough, swallow]... mature. Maybe this means I have to stop singing and dancing wildly in my car. Or stifling my raucous laugh with a dainty hand covered in a Victorian glove. Or wearing walking shoes. Or maybe this means I'm full of sage wisdom.

What God? What are you telling me? Oh, it means I'm full of sage wisdom? Greaaaaat! I'll impart my knowledge of the last couple years...

*When you learn an American idiom, don't try it out. When someone says, It's like spitting in the wind, what they mean is, don't be stupid and try it.

*Don't steal gum--or anything--in front of my mother. Piety overwhelms her and she'll march you right on over to the manager and make you tell him you stole a package of watermelon flavored Bubblicious gum. Hypothetically, of course!

*Make friends who are better than you or possess strength in your areas of weakness. You'll be like the Greek phalanx; better together than separate.

*If at all possible, get a twin. You can blame them if you're wrong, play with them when you're bored, and steal clothes when necessary.

*Don't EVER date a lead singer in a band. They'll be more in love with themselves than you'll ever be. You're welcome.

*Date someone who is super clean so they'll take care of the household chores, while you watch trashy reality television. [Just kidding, Matt! Well, half kidding.]

*Do what you're inspired to do. Even if you think you're not good at it. It may not be a lucrative profession, but in the end, it's better to fail at something you love than succeed at something you hate. Truth.

*Never wash your white clothes with a red sock.

*Read your bible daily!

If you have any advice to add, feel free to! For those older than I, pour out your wisdom :) I need it.

life is beautiful...

La vita e bella! Italian director Roberto Begnini directed one of the most amazing films where a family faced with horrific situations was able to find moments of beauty in the mundane and even painful. When all hope was lost and death triumphed, the characters whispered, Life is beautiful!

This week is a new week, I'm excited to be alive, and I didn't workout. Intentionally. I woke up eager to make moments beautiful. Instead of focusing on trying to save the world while balancing a 9-5 job, I want to chronicle what is beautiful.

Because really, if Clark Kent could save the world and manage a desk job, so can I!

Mom is cancer-free, Dad is sleeping, family is healthy. Life is beautiful.

Turning 30 and I have my health, wealth, and slept in until 5:40am. Life is beautiful!

Lost the Biggest Loser competition at my gym, but I lost seven pounds. Life is beautiful!

Jasmine's closet better than ANY store because she let me borrow anything I wanted for Easter. Life is beautiful!

Impromptu birthday dinners with amazing friends. Life is beautiful!

Food in the fridge, a roof overhead, water to drink, and a bed to sleep in. Life is beautiful!

King David and I have a lot in common. Okay, okay, so he was a king, had tons of money, and ruled people. I get that. But when I read his songs of praise in Psalms, I feel like he is writing from my mind and heart.

Psalms 16:11 You will show me the path of life; In Your presence is fullness of joy; At Your right hand are pleasures forevermore.

When we feel lost in life, lack joy, or desire pleasures, they can be found in the mundane and sometimes painful moments of life. But like David emphasized, it is through God that we can whisper out, Life is beautiful!

What is God doing in YOUR life that is beautiful?

because it's my blog...

I need to write this out. I need to remember these feelings. I need to wrestle through the little and big things in my life. I need to chronicle this journey because if I don't know where I've come from, I will not know where I'm going.

Last week I had a breakdown in my office. No one knew, no one saw, no one needed to find out. It was just me. In my office. Alone. In a moment of pounding stress, I lost it. I literally spoke out loud to God [like a crazy lady from Venice beach with her 85 cats] and asked the questions every 20-something asks:

What am I doing? Where am I going? What do you want from me?

You would think I have this whole thing figured out. But I don't. As a ControlFreak who loves having my Garmin spurt out turn-by-turn directions, I want God to do the same. Because honestly, I'm going full steam ahead into pitch black darkness.

My life is unglamorous. I wake up at 4:45am to workout, blog, and spend time with God. Then I shower, put on heels, pack a lunch, sit in traffic, send 1,395,982,507 emails from my small office covered with post-it notes, sit in traffic again, lather, rinse, repeat. I'm exhausted. I'm tired. I'm wondering if what I'm doing is what God wants me to do.

Then I remembered the words I shared with Maxine over bread at dinner: So what? Just do it! Sometimes I give really good advice. It would be nice if I listened to myself. In those moments I know it's not ME, but the spirit of the Lord who is within me to share Truths.

As Public Relations & Media coordinator, I'm in the midst of launching our new church website, copy writing, planning Passion Week, facilitating our guest speakers and guest bands, oh yeah, annnnnd trying to study for Saturday's speaking event [which is bubbling over with whispers of people who are bothered that I'm speaking... so hurtful]. In addition to this I still don't have a dress to wear for Easter!

So this is me--broken and wounded. But I'm still the girl ambitious enough to think the world can change through the love and leading of Jesus Christ. My greatest desire is to round up ordinary people and have God transform us into fearless, EXTRAordinary leaders who want to save the world.

Yes, I will provide the capes.

Thank you for listening and loving me through this journey,

:B

100 words on bad theology...

There's sucky theology out there. Beware. You probably won't amass great wealth, drive a Ferrari, or own a plane, but some preachers will tell you that. It's a lie. You can't name and claim anything if it's not part of God's sovereign will. You can't preach health and wealth in a world broken to sin.

Furthermore, in a world teaching the prosperity gospel and Jabez-like prayers, it elevates us above a Savior who suffered. Jesus was poor. Jesus was homeless. Jesus was hungry. Jesus felt isolation. Pain. Despair. Rejection. Betrayal.

An empathetic Savior knows what we feel. Why should we be exempt from suffering if our Savior wasn't? Am I wrong?

do your thang'...

She looked across the table as if she was going to admit she was preggo, selling illegal substances, or pilfering from her governmental job. She inhaled, swallowed, and braced herself for my reaction. I sat across from her and munched on the mound of warm deliciousness some people call bread. Seriously, I said, you're starting to worry me. [Note: I eat when I'm nervous.]

She pushed her bread plate away from her [Note: she doesn't eat when she's nervous] and blurted out her aspirations of becoming a ________.* With a quizzical look and arched eyebrow I replied, So what? Just do it.

For the next two hours we sat around discussing the importance of passion and guilt. Passion in doing what we want to do; guilt in what it is we want to do. She confessed her guilt was because her desire wasn't "spiritual" and it's not like teaching the bible or working for a church [Note: she was probably talking about me].

She wasn't comparing like I-want-to-be-like-you, but more of a It's-not-a-holy-job. Naturally we are inclined to compare ourselves in the discovery of God's will for our lives. It's part and parcel of our brokenness and humanity.

But what is defined as a holy job? Working for a church? OH PLEASE! A holy job is a person who desires to be holy and HAS a job. There's a lot of people who are guilt trippin' over what they're inspired to do. Why? God has created us to do great things... impossible things!

If you want to be a rapper, be a rapper who gives glory to God. You want to be a photographer, be the most amazing photographer who captures God's beauty. You want to be an deejay, actress, playwright, brain surgeon, lawyer--do it. And do it well. We are his masterpiece created for good works Ephesians 2:10 tell us.

So why struggle? If you are able to praise God with your talents, give the glory He is due, and make a living out of it, DO YOUR THANG'!

*You fill in the blank. It could possibly be what you've been praying about doing.

proclaiming freedom to captives...

Syncopated voices vibrated in the sterile room of the third level of the Los Angeles Women's Jail. It was one of those feelings we all have felt: What did I get myself into?! Shaved heads, tattoos climbing up necks and onto soft feminine faces displaying 'hoods they were from. Loud voices taunting and jesting with each other confused me in the way you would feel on foreign soil; you know what their saying but you can't understand the words.

I clutched my bible and inmates yelled through walls or shouted through windows, Pray for me! My name is Channel and I'm up for parole soon! And, Hey you! My baby's daddy is in court tomorrow. Would you remember to say a prayer for him? I had no clue what I'd gotten myself into.

In my naivete I assumed this would be another speaking event with willing women's heart open to hear the gospel. I didn't expect to be fearful. I didn't expect to be afraid. I didn't expect to pray in the solitude of my mind feverishly for the right words to say. But the fears washed away as a simple guitar lead us into a time of worship.

Brown, black, white. Straight, lesbian, confused. Searchers, seekers, finders.

In one room we sang off beat and out of key to songs I will never forget. The words sung out by the lips of the women gathered in ward 304 dripped with sincerity. Lyrics, sung out with every fiber of their being, meant something more than mere words. It was one of the most moving times of worship I've ever experienced.

I swallowed the lump in my throat as I walked towards the microphone. After getting comfortable with each other, we laughed together, learned together, and felt like a rowdy, motley crew of girls who needed some Jesus up in our lives.

Before leaving I had the privilege of praying with a dear sister who was sentenced to death row that very day. It was in that moment I realized she represented so many women who, though have freedom in the outside world, are prisoners to themselves.

As we go about our day, remember those who are living in an emotional, psychological, or physical prison and give them the One who proclaimed, The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me, because the Lord has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners, to proclaim the year of our Lord's favor and the day of vengeance of our God to comfort all who mourn... (Isaiah 61:1-2)