Hearts are not Hot Wheels

My friend led me to this song, and I am so grateful to her for it.

One, it's beautiful.

Two, it's a reminder that I have to be careful with my heart. She really wants to be captured, but sometimes she wants it so badly that she could let a man capture it who would use it up and then release it.

You know (and ladies, please feel free to chime in with an amen), I don't put my heart out to be caught and released. My heart is not part of the wildlife tagging program. I don't want a man to tag me, put me back out there, keep me on his radar, and pick me back up every three months for a check-up.

No girl does.

Pardon my phrasing, but if a lady is out there to hit it and quit it, ain't no way a man is seeing even a sliver of her heart. Hell no.

Right girls?

If my heart is out there to be caught, it better be for keeps. I'm not saying marriage. That's a lot. But she wants to be caught, kept, and learned until she's been tamed (and bravo to the man who does that-it'll take someone strong). Or until it's clear that's not who's meant to keep her.

Pardon me while I continue for a bit longer--we had an early release day, so I have extra time on my hands.

I know how good it feels to win someone's heart for the sake of winning it and NOT for the sake of keeping it. I felt wanted. I felt desired. I felt strong and powerful. And I'm not proud to admit it, but I used him.

It wasn't until years later that I realized just how wrong of me that was. That it's one thing to test the waters to see if he's a good fit. But it's another thing to know he's not one I truly want yet still flirt, cajole, whisper, and kiss (yes kiss).

I used him to pass my time.

He got hurt. Really hurt.

I'd like to say that I was able to apologize to him when I realized how badly I'd treated his heart. But, you see, I couldn't because we weren't friends anymore. He intentionally disappeared from me so I wouldn't hurt him anymore.

I still can't find him.

Why do I tell you all this, gentle readers? Well, boys and girls, it's partly because that's what I do here and partly because I hope this resonates with you in some way. We've all had our hearts touched by others and touched hearts ourselves. Some of our hearts have been mishandled. And some of us have handled the hearts of others poorly. Maybe, like me, you didn't know. I didn't think I was hurting his heart. We were having fun! He was smiling, happy, enjoying it!

I should have seen it. I wish I had.

He was too open with me. Too honest with me. Too available at all hours, too willing to drop his plans for mine, and too willing to share the deepest thoughts in his head. That wasn't just "for fun" folks. That's a boy who wanted me to keep his heart safe.

And I didn't.

He wanted me to treat it like a brand new dream car: maintained, polished, understood, and driven at maximum speed.

Instead I treated it like a Hot Wheel: fun, cute, and easy to toss aside while I played with my others.

My heart is not a Hot Wheel to be played with. Sure, she's fun, but she's fun because she's a sweet ride with all the bells and whistles. She's got some miles on her, but she's got a lot more to go.

--

In honor of that, this song (remember me mentioning a song at the beginning of the post? No? Well, it was a long time ago) perfectly illustrates what I'm talking about.

For those of you who like to play with Hot Wheels, please, please, please think about what you're doing. And for those of you who have been used, please, please, please know that your heart is precious and lovely and deserves to be loved. You're not disposable. You're lovely.

15 weeks until summer . . .

I said I was going to post this weekend. I promised. And the weekend is rapidly coming to a close. So it's post or consider myself a liar.

I'm not a liar.

Mostly because it's wrong but also because I'm bad at it. Ok, mostly because I'm bad at it. Thanks, God, for making me bad at it because I clearly lack the moral standards to do right for the sake of doing right.

The thing about saying I was going to post, however, is this:

I have no idea what to write.

My emotions have been all over the place this week.

I have gone from thinking the world of the young men and women about to enter real life to despair at the fact that they ALL have so much more growing up to do. Seriously. I was really spiraling on Thursday night, and that's rare for me. I actually had to go out and distract myself from the increasingly depressing thoughts swimming in my head.

I've giggled like an eight year old talking about her first crush with a girlfriend. The struggles of my heart lifted for a bit, and I had a chance to just enjoy chatting about boys with my friend. To have fun with the fact that I actually have crushes for the first time in a LONG time.

I have tried to help a friend going through a rough time, and run the gamut of emotions with that situation. Sympathy, pity, sorrow, frustration, exasperation, annoyance, concern. I want to help him, and I want to be there for him, but it's situations like this that show me how mean and cynical I can be sometimes. Seriously, without Jesus I would be quite mean to others.

My head and heart have been busy this week.

I've realized something.

Ok, one of my Spiritual gifts is discernment. I can see who people are at their core, what they need to grow in, and who they could potentially be.

This should be helpful in teaching because I can pinpoint things in students, help them grow, and know how to encourage them. However, sometimes my nature prompts me to overlook their faults. I just skip straight to the potential I see in them.

Naturally, they respond well to that, wouldn't you? If you were an 18 year old who's made his share of mistakes in life and no one ever lets you forget them, wouldn't you be grateful for someone new who doesn't know those things or judge you by them and sees only potential for greatness in you? Of course you would!

And, seriously, my students could be such incredible men and women.

But then a failing or a fault or a past mistake I never knew about becomes clear to me. I find myself saddened or disappointed (which is what was going on this Thursday), and I begin to lose faith in that student.

And that's awful, frankly. That mistake has always been there, but I just didn't know about it. That student is the same student she was five minutes ago BEFORE I knew about this stumbling point in her life. Why should I suddenly doubt her potential or ability?

I shouldn't, duh.

I should instead admire the changes she HAS made. I should push him to make more. I should challenge him to ask himself what he really wants to be in life. I should always expect the absolute best out of her.

...

In other news, it felt so, so, so good to just run around and chill with a friend last night. Someone in my age range. Someone I can relate to and want to talk to. I really needed that.

And I gave a lot of hugs this weekend. It felt good, honestly.

And I really like backs. Big, strong backs.

Oh, and apple butter on toast is divine.

Oh, and I used to only be attracted to brown eyes. I am now attracted to blue eyes as well.

Oh, and an extremely funny and cute movie is one called Barry Munday. It's about a man who loses his balls in an accident and then discovers he's going to have a child. So great.

...

All right, I think that covers everything I promised.

Hold your rootin' tootin' horses!

Dear rabid readers:

I will post this weekend.

In the meantime, y'all just need to chill out!

And I think a little part of my soul just died because I said y'all.

Not to offend or anything . . . but you know. Sometimes that's what I do here.

Or maybe all of the congestion in my head had impaired my ability to be sweet and kind.

Who knows?

Either way, the next post will likely involve tales from a wheezing 20-something, my switch to blue eyes, the goodness of apple butter, and a man with no balls.

Yes, you heard me.

Now I've definitely offended.

Mission: accomplished.

Until then my darlings, my Creepers, and passers-by.