Bars.

I have decided that a bar is one of the saddest places in the world.

I worked at Old Chicago. I remember when they had me on the day shift. I opened the restaurant. I would work 10-2 pm each day before heading to my evening job at Chick-fil-A. I remember there was a little old man, who came in three times a week, every time at 11:17 am. He wouldn't speak to anyone. He would nod in my direction and walk to his favorite bar stool, third from the end. He wore a tan coat with black lining. I remember watching him from across the bar. It didn't matter what was on TV, he'd sit there, watch it, and drink his bourbon in peace. There were never more than three people at that time and maybe that's why he chose to come in then. Maybe there was nothing wrong in his life, and he was just a creature of habit who liked the silence of a barren brewery. But I never remember seeing him smile.

This past New Year's my boyfriend and I went to a local bar before they kicked me out at 9 pm because of me not being quite 21 yet. This was the first time I had officially been at a 'bar' bar. My boyfriend says, Old Chicago didn't count.

When  I arrived to pick up my beau and his compadre, I saw a parking lot littered with the remains of the celebration. I saw exhaust rising from the cars as they heated up in the frigid new year. I saw one couple in particular that caught my eye. She was draped in a black sequin-y, glittery outfit way above her knees and way underneath her shoulders just like every other girl who had shopped for the perfect New Years outfit, we all do it. I saw a boy leaning over her, hanging onto her every word; winking, smiling, hovering, laughing. You know when you go to a restaurant and its so painfully obvious that someone is on a first date? Everything is awkward and tense and the girl sits there with her shoulders drooping forward out of utter and complete fear and the guy talks too much to make up for her laughing accidentally too loudly at his pathetic excuse for a knock knock joke? That's what these two looked like. And yet, he got in the car with her.

I don't judge anyone and never will.

I went back to this bar the other day for dinner with my boyfriend. It was a quiet Friday night, but that's only because it was 6 pm. The bar was about half way full and there was a Houston football game playing on the screen. I walked in and half smiled at the empty souls seated around me. There was a table of women in their late 20's sipping their fruity drinks showing each other stuff on their phones and laughing as loud as possible to capture any attention they could from the few prospective men in the place. At the next table there was man sitting next to a woman completely entranced in the football game or so I thought until I noticed it was simply a Trident commercial. She tried desperately to get his attention; putting her arm around him, tapping his shoulder, playing with his fingers, nothing. Across the taproom sprawled the bar. Every couple seats occupied. I saw a woman probably in her early 40's drinking alone. She kept leaning to either side of her attempting to make conversation with the people around her; hoping to know someone. Hoping to feel like she belonged. Lastly, a couple walked in. She looked worn and wiry, with a trampled heart. Her face looked like it waned with the weight of a thousand moonless nights pounding on her temple. The man next to her looked, about her age but not as tired. You know those people that you can just feel the life they have been through when they walk through the door? They have faced a world of misery and yet are still strong to all they see. He looked like that.

My boyfriend scolded me. He said it was rude to feel sorry for people. For once, someone had criticized my compassion instead of praised it. I told him it was merely compassion, that my heart broke for the lives they had lived. He told me I didn't know anything about their lives, and he was right.

But what if someone else does.

I don't want to fix anyone, because I simply can't.
It's not my job and I can't.

As Christians do we come off as judgmental for having our hearts break at the sight of people hurting? Or is this all some facade we have created in our minds of normal people that we have to help. Are they really hurting or are we making it up in our heads so that we can seem like good people?

I don't think we are.

When we pray, 'God show us your heart' or 'give us your heart' or 'give us your eyes', I think that's what compassion is when God answers that request. Sometimes people just don't want our sympathy though. No one wants to feel less than anyone else. No one wants to need help. No one wants to be a charity case. If a Christian helps you, you suddenly become one. So they can boast to their friends about what a good person they are. I think that's why Christ says to pray in secret. Do good things in secret, so that it's not about you. It's about the person you're helping. It's about Christ; not your image. He gives us a heart of serving and compassion and empathy for those around us. When we have the Holy Spirit inside of us that is when our hearts began ache and weep when we see homeless hobbling down the street, or when we see young girls in bars looking for love.

People look for love. That is human nature.

If the way you are looking is all you want, so be it. But I can promise there is love in other places.

2017.

This year has been an interesting one for me, but I have learned what I want to hold the highest value in my life.

This year I chose to be alone at the strike of midnight. Not because I wanted to be dramatic or because I was depressed or because I was pouting but because I wanted to.

We have all made mistakes. We have all made decisions that have hurt others or even ourselves. We have all been affected by others' decisions and been hurt by them. I'm not going to go on some sad sob story about this year being terrible, because frankly everyone has already been doing that all over the internet and this year wasn't that bad.

I lost my grandpa on Christmas Day this year. I lost some of my closest friends. I quit a job I really loved. I broke a heart. I lost 20 lbs. I made friends who value me. I found a job where I can make a difference and bring a smile to someone's day. My beautiful god son was born. I found a heart. I was blessed with a beautiful keyboard. We adopted my bestest furry friend. Good things happen. Bad things happen. But I never lost who I am, simply discovered more and more petals to my heart. Through it all, I know only one thing really matters.

So at 11:53 pm on December 31, 2016 I chose to sit in my boyfriend's apartment with the lights out and the cool breeze from the open window next to me float over me while I sang In Christ Alone over and over until I heard the pops of fireworks from beyond the balcony over the mountains.

In those moments I decided that I didn't want to be with anyone on New Year's except my Lord and Savior. I know I've screwed up this year and I know I have lost a lot this year. But in that moment I declared in my heart that I knew I would never lose my God.

"I was literally walking into this new year praising my king, and that is how I want the rest of my life to be. "

As I walked down the steps of my boyfriend's apartment complex into the new year and brisk air I could see smoke plumes and bright explosions rising over the houses and the city behind. I could hear shouting from every direction as I walked to my car in the abandoned parking lot singing "The God of angel armies is always by my side." I was literally walking into this new year praising my king, and that is how I want the rest of my life to be.

Some have considered me foolish when I share with them my beliefs. I believe the best in people. I can see why people act the way they do or how they have been hurt in the past. I have been called naive and stupid for always having hope in people. But if we don't have hope in each other then who will? Wouldn't you rather believe in something than nothing at all? I am not a naive little girl. I know bad things are going to happen. I know people will break my trust in them, and crush all hope I had in them, but everyone deserves to have someone believe in them and I will because that's what I would want others to do for me. I am full aware of the consequences of love and I will choose it over hate any day.

"I am full aware of the consequences of love and I will choose it over hate every day for the rest of my life. "

So as we go into 2017, I want to sound like a devotional article that you read on those feel good pages, don't change. I know new years are all about resolutions and making yourself better or feel better or look better. But don't. Remember who you are at the core. I know we often get in these phases where we want to be the best we can be, but does this desire really benefit you or simply make you anxious to be something you are not. Does it really just start a drive in you that is constantly nagging at your heart never letting you feel satisfied with who you are? I know who I am. Yes there are little things that I can change like being more patient or forgiving or kind, but I am never going to relinquish my morals all in an attempt to fit the title of better.  This year it is my goal to remind myself daily that I, Bethany Harrington, am good enough; that it is okay to be who you are at the core. Don't ever be ashamed of it.

I am a better person than my parents.

I am a better person than my parents.

Now before you get all riled up, hear me out.

I am a better person for today's society. This is my generation. This is where I grew up. My parents grew up in. The in between stages of the century. Right after the 50's and 60's where there were riots but during the 70's and 80's where to most teens not much was happening. They faced different types of struggles than I did and just led a different life. They had parents from a different era who had grown up in the depression.

I am a better person in the eyes of today's society. As I said, I have grown up in this society so I have learned what matters to the people around me. People currently have different values than those before us, and it's hard when something is so etched into your identity to be open to the new values of the world. I understand. That's why there is always this reoccurring rift between generations, we each grow up with a different set of values engraved us and they don't line up. We fight because we think we're defending who we are.

I am a different person that my parents. And that's because I'm choosing to be. Yes there are characteristics from my parents that I strive to obtain but they're are also their fears and mistakes which I wish not to make. 

So let me tell you who I want to be. I want to be fearless. I want to be open minded. I want to be caring and understanding. I want to be humble. I want to be honest and open hearted. I never want to be afraid of people or places because I know I have no reason to fear. I have my Jesus, which neither of my parents had as teens. I have faith in things that they sometimes doubt and that's okay, because they're opinions don't really matter in the long run of things in my faith. I want to be talented and helpful and a leader. I want to be tender yet distinct and sharp. I want to be smart and wise. I want to be the best person I can be. I want to have confidence in my decisions and confidence in myself. I want to be an advocate for justice and love and people. I want to be like my father and help the homeless even when I'm running late to work. I don't want to worry about things like my mother does, I want to have no fear.

And shouldn't you want your child to be better than you? I know I do. I want my future child to be the best human being ever. I want them to be he kindest, bravest, most genuine hardworking person to ever walk this earth; to try their darnedest to make this world better.

So yes I am a different person than my parents that's okay.

To my other half

It's weird to say that. It's weird to say that you are my other half even though we are not together. But it's true. We are complete opposites which is what makes us click so well and yet clash so well, a beautiful chaos. You're a hidden victory fighter while I'm an exposed fighter against society. You believe it is braver to fight things on your own without help while I believe it is braver to fight your battles in front of others in front of their scrutiny. I have learned there is beauty and courage and flaws to both forms of courage. 

You make me laugh; that is the biggest thing I've noticed. I've never been as happy as I am when I'm with you. I literally feel my smile growing across my face and I feel the warmth seeping through my core, and the burn of the vodka wasn't the cause this time. However you also care about me as much as you try to pretend you don't. You let me sleep on your couch and steal your hoodie which I am positive you know I took. Your voice changes when you're worried about me, which is something I'd never heard before. It's almost as if the words rolling off your tongue are replacing the tears that you're trying not to roll down your face.

You miss me and I know it. And I have no doubt in hell you know I miss you too. Then why the hell have we not done anything about it? When we sit across the table from each other we smile wider than I've ever seen.

I've grown up and that scares you. I'm no longer the innocent 17 year old girl you used to know. I understand more. My mind is less innocent and that leaves you shocked. I like tattoos. I cuss. I drink, a lot. I've smoked. I'm not as pretty as I once was. It all disturbs you because you never thought I would change, because you thought I was perfect. What if all this time you've been striving to become perfect to be like me while I've been breaking in the distance dealing with the pain you left me and trying to be less perfect so you would desire me once more. Ironic how while striving to match my perfection you broke mine and the standard is no longer so high because you shattered it.

I haven't done anything because I want you to be happy. And you don't look happy these days but you seem content and if that's what you want I won't change it. I am so extremely proud of you and I wish you knew that. You have a great job teaching kids, you're going to school to be an EMT, you have an extremely successful girlfriend with a masters degree, you have your own apartment, you've learned how to cook, and you have goals. You see a point to your life again and that's all I ever wanted for you. I wanted the best for you. I wanted you to be able to love and live again when the world had knocked the wind out of you. I wanted the wind to fill you up agin so you could fly again. 

The memories I have haunt me all the time, and that was one thing you always hated. I remembered everything. I remembered the people from my past, those who've hurt me and abandon me. And maybe you're the cause, I don't know. But I don't remember anymore. I remember us. But anything before that I've blocked. It's frustrating. I didn't do it on purpose. I try and I try and I scrape my brain for memories people tell me about but they're no longer there. I remember reasons for things but never the causes. I can never explain to people why something is right, it's just that i know, or used to know I guess is the case. But yet every memory of you has replaced those memories as much as I wish they hadn't sometimes. I remember us stargazing through my Subaru sunroof because it was too cold to go outside. Or us having a snowball fight after school at PPCC and you laughing while you told me people were judging us. Or when you followed me around at the Skateathon and everyone were convinced we were a couple and we'd just laugh at everyone. I remember how excited you would get when you would find new photo op spots and you wanted nothing else but to tell me and for me to be just as excited as you. Or when I told you how embarrassed I was about my cheeks always being pink and you told me pink happens and you didn't care. Or when I drove donuts in that one church parking lot and you pulled the emergency brake just because you thought it'd be funny and I punched you for the next hour. Or after we stopped talking and I was at Sarah's house and you saw me all dressed up for girls night and I told you not to say anything because I thought you were judging me and you told me you thought I actually looked amazing which is why you didn't say anything. 

I remember it all. The end was the worst. And yet it's still not over. We look at each other and want to be near each other because I think we both want to be happy again. But the universe is taunting us and has this thin film between us where we can see and hear each other but never be together again. I want to break through that film but only if you do too. 

To my worst enemy

You tried to hurt me. You tried to break me. You tried to manipulate me. You hurt my friends. You ruined their careers. You tried to fight me.

Lesson 1: Do not fight me. I can burn you. I won't because Christ doesn't want me to, but believe me he is the only reason I'm not.

How could your self esteem be so low that as a grown woman you tear apart teenagers? You are the only representation of Christ those kids may ever know and you make them despise you?

You stole my ideas and took credit for them. You let people praise you in front of me for things you know I had contemplated for weeks trying to summon the courage to even suggest them, because every time you would steal them and steal my confidence with them.

I see you as despicable.

I know your life is hard. You had your dream job and had to quit for some reason, or they fired you which would explain the hurt in your heart. It takes me a long while before I truly loathe someone, so how quickly has everyone else turned to hatred towards you? You must need the most love if I hate you this much.

I forgive you.

To the girls who look up to me

Thank you.

You are the reason I try to be a better person. You are the reason I'm trying to stop cussing and why I gave up alcohol and smoking. You are the reason I get out of bed when it feels like the amount of sorrow on my chest crashed on me overnight like an avalanche.

You bring so much joy to my life. You remind me that pure innocent fun still exists. You remind me of the person I am while I encourage you in your lives.

You show me how to love in the fiercest and deepest forms.

The date.

Today I went on a date.

Now it wasn't just any regular date, this was a first date; my first date. 

I've never gone on a date before and never had a real boyfriend before; mostly because no one has ever asked me out before. For years I have tried to figure out why, but more on that later.

Okay it's later. Well I still don't know for sure why, and I probably won't ever. My suspicions, however, is that God simply didn't want me to.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm not saying God is against dating, not at all. I'm simply saying in my case, He just didn't want me to. I tend to obsess over things and overthink them, as most of us ladies do. But over the past few months I've been growing up. I've been letting go of things and not worrying anymore. Before I was very passive aggressive but now I'm just passive, with aggressive tendencies ;) but seriously I've learned to let go of a lot of anger and just chill. If something happens, it just happens.

When I went on my date, I wasn't worried at all about if the guy liked me, which to be honest is a little weird. I was more worried about my appearance before hand. I think I convinced myself that if he didn't like me, that wasn't my fault and I think that's how our mindset should be in situations like that.

The biggest thing I learned from this date, was that God loved me. 

Okay I know what you're thinking, umm Bethany, I think you missed the point of a date there champ... 

But I don't think I did at all. The point of a godly relationship is to bring you closer to God, point blank. We can say dating has other purposes, but that's what it's supposed to be no matter how we try to kid ourselves. As I was getting ready and trying on different shoes, I felt special. I felt important. And I felt loved. God had blessed with an opportunity of a date, even when I did it against him out of self and longing for love. I think he allowed me to go to reassure me that he had the love I was looking for. I felt like a princess and I felt taken care of, by God not necessarily my date. 

The point of all this, is God really does want to lavish on you whether you follow his plan or not. I haven't been the best Christian over the past few months but now I'm trying again. I'm making a conscience effort to please my king, not out of an obligation for his love but to show him I love him, as a gift.