I was sitting in a waiting room the other day and realized this has become my life--I'm in a state of waiting. I looked around at the other people, some reading magazines, some on their iPod and others talking on their phone and I just watched, taking it all in and waiting.
It's not like I've sat on my hands, forfeited my turn or bowed out completely, but I'm still waiting. The "perfect" job, the man of my dreams/knight in shinning armor/the "one"/whatever descriptor you want- waiting.
I'm not a patient person and the trust thing is hard for me, so this waiting room experience is by no means easy. But, I have to trust that there is a purpose and a plan here, even in the waiting.
My pastor calls this the "Land Between" and talks about the Israelites in the desert for 40 years. He talks about how the decisions we make in this time help determine our faith. Our choices, no matter what we pick, will either harm or help our walk with Christ.
So, what am I choosing? Am I making this time of waiting profitable? Am I learning to trust in the desert? Has my faith grown while wandering in this land between? Or have I fostered a complaining heart, grown discontent or harbored anger?
I feel like there has been progress, not perfection, but steps in the right direction. But still waiting. I find myself asking God how long must I wait. How long will I be in the land between before I reach the promised land?
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Rejection
"We decided to go with another candidate"..."it's not you, it's me"... silence... an email or phone call un-returned. No matter what way you slice it, rejection hurts. It stings, leaving a mark and chipping away at your soul.
From the dawn of time people have been dealing with rejection and we have all faced it multiple times. We didn't get picked for the team at recess, the popular crowd doesn't include us or the school we wanted said our grades weren't good enough.
So, after 29 years of facing rejection, why does it still sting? Why do tears still well up after I face another round? Is it the compilation of it all at once,--real or perceived--relational versus situational or is there more to it?
I don't know. I can't fully explain. Certain types hurt me more than others. They feed into my own insecurities and past aches. Others seem to zap me from nowhere and leave me grabbing for the Kleenex STAT.
The past few weeks have been a flurry of rejection and turmoil on many fronts. Part of it real and some of it my own over-reactions and worries. Either way, I think the more beaten down we are the more susceptible we are to feel more pain. So the cycle continues over and over again until something stops it. I'm ready for that.
From the dawn of time people have been dealing with rejection and we have all faced it multiple times. We didn't get picked for the team at recess, the popular crowd doesn't include us or the school we wanted said our grades weren't good enough.
So, after 29 years of facing rejection, why does it still sting? Why do tears still well up after I face another round? Is it the compilation of it all at once,--real or perceived--relational versus situational or is there more to it?
I don't know. I can't fully explain. Certain types hurt me more than others. They feed into my own insecurities and past aches. Others seem to zap me from nowhere and leave me grabbing for the Kleenex STAT.
The past few weeks have been a flurry of rejection and turmoil on many fronts. Part of it real and some of it my own over-reactions and worries. Either way, I think the more beaten down we are the more susceptible we are to feel more pain. So the cycle continues over and over again until something stops it. I'm ready for that.
Wednesday, August 04, 2010
Trust
I lost it somewhere between "I do" and he didn't; the bachelor party lie and the secrets revealed. The "how could you believe I would..." and the confession. Secrets and truths. Trust and its opposite.
I'm not blaming and I can't entirely trace it all back to one person, but that is where it grew and gained momentum. Where I learned it's best to cocoon because being honest, truly and completely transparent, with a man (no matter how much he promised to love) wasn't worth it.
The more I learned, the more I realized that being me-all of me-was more than he wanted. I always get emotional when I hear the line from one of my favorite songs that says "you couldn't stand to be near me when my face don't seem to want to shine 'cause its a little bit dirty." I complained too much (smudge), I didn't let him do anything (another mark), I was always perfect (scars).
It didn't matter that these weren't true or that they were bits and pieces of his own issues passed on to me. That my insecurities were being played out in front of me at home and at work was of no concern to him. But I bought was he was selling. The sad thing is- that is what has left the scar. I worry when I complain or vent or tell someone how I really feel that I will drive them away. Because we all want to see the shiny.
Maybe that is why I didn't want to do this blog in the first place. If people could see me, hear my thoughts, view the Samsonite baggage and know what I was feeling they wouldn't want to be around. I guess that is the crux of it all. If you could see me for who I truly am, would you accept me or would you leave?
I'm not blaming and I can't entirely trace it all back to one person, but that is where it grew and gained momentum. Where I learned it's best to cocoon because being honest, truly and completely transparent, with a man (no matter how much he promised to love) wasn't worth it.
The more I learned, the more I realized that being me-all of me-was more than he wanted. I always get emotional when I hear the line from one of my favorite songs that says "you couldn't stand to be near me when my face don't seem to want to shine 'cause its a little bit dirty." I complained too much (smudge), I didn't let him do anything (another mark), I was always perfect (scars).
It didn't matter that these weren't true or that they were bits and pieces of his own issues passed on to me. That my insecurities were being played out in front of me at home and at work was of no concern to him. But I bought was he was selling. The sad thing is- that is what has left the scar. I worry when I complain or vent or tell someone how I really feel that I will drive them away. Because we all want to see the shiny.
Maybe that is why I didn't want to do this blog in the first place. If people could see me, hear my thoughts, view the Samsonite baggage and know what I was feeling they wouldn't want to be around. I guess that is the crux of it all. If you could see me for who I truly am, would you accept me or would you leave?
I am Not in Control
I don't consider myself a control freak. Don't feel like I have to be in charge to be happy. In fact, I know I'm not the head honcho and that is fine with me. Yet, I struggle to give up my sense of control. As if I'm in a mental tug-of-war with God over the reins of my life all the while knowing he is in the driver's seat and that is where I want him. Yet I'm shouting out commands like a backseat driver.
I'm single--turn here.
My job's in chaos--don't forget to stop at the stop sign.
Niece and nephew have medical tests--the light's green.
The past four years have been a bounty of examples of how I am NOT in control. Divorce, unemployment, sale of home, new job, new home, termites, car repairs, loss of both grandmas, wind damage, single, dating, single again.
It's like God really wants me to grasp this concept, but I keep failing miserably. I know I'm not in charge, but why do I keep trying to direct things? I'm not saying God wants us to sit on our hands, but sometimes he needs us to get out of the way so he can work. He doesn't need me in there messing it up. He needs me to step aside so his plan can be revealed.
The odd thing is that I trust him with certain things completely. I was unemployed and he brought me an amazing job--unemployment doesn't bother me. I've been there and he provided every step of the way. The mortgage on my new house was always paid and I never went without.
"But the relationship thing hasn't always worked out so well, so if you don't mind God, I'm gonna keep a hold on this one." It's silly, I know, and I need to turn it over fully and completely--to surrender to self and just let go. Like many things, this is much easier said than done. So, I'll keep plugging away at it and if you see my grabbing the steering wheel or shouting out directions, feel free to stop me.
I'm single--turn here.
My job's in chaos--don't forget to stop at the stop sign.
Niece and nephew have medical tests--the light's green.
The past four years have been a bounty of examples of how I am NOT in control. Divorce, unemployment, sale of home, new job, new home, termites, car repairs, loss of both grandmas, wind damage, single, dating, single again.
It's like God really wants me to grasp this concept, but I keep failing miserably. I know I'm not in charge, but why do I keep trying to direct things? I'm not saying God wants us to sit on our hands, but sometimes he needs us to get out of the way so he can work. He doesn't need me in there messing it up. He needs me to step aside so his plan can be revealed.
The odd thing is that I trust him with certain things completely. I was unemployed and he brought me an amazing job--unemployment doesn't bother me. I've been there and he provided every step of the way. The mortgage on my new house was always paid and I never went without.
"But the relationship thing hasn't always worked out so well, so if you don't mind God, I'm gonna keep a hold on this one." It's silly, I know, and I need to turn it over fully and completely--to surrender to self and just let go. Like many things, this is much easier said than done. So, I'll keep plugging away at it and if you see my grabbing the steering wheel or shouting out directions, feel free to stop me.
Monday, August 02, 2010
A Rose by Any Other Name
We all know the paraphrased line, "a rose by any other name would still smell as sweet." The point is that a name is just that, a name. Nothing more and nothing less. Love shouldn't be forbidden based on the name Capulet or Montague. A rose by any other name.
It has me thinking about Christianity and how much I have assumed based on one word. I have taken for granted that to some it is just a name; a label a description of how they were raised. But, I'm realizing there is a drastic difference in making Jesus the Savior of your soul and the Lord of your life.
If Jesus is purely Savior then it changes the game. It's a one act play. Once the role has been filled and my get out of jail card is obtained, I no longer need Jesus anymore. It's fire insurance and nothing more.
If Jesus is Lord of your life then it's a whole different set of rules. Suddenly morals and values and sin, grace and mercy come into light as major players. The soul saving becomes the driving force, but not the whole thing. Life becomes more about living in God's will than knowing where you go when you die. It becomes alive and vibrant and there is a purpose not just a final destination.
This is a concept lost on many and, I have to say, until recently I don't know that I would have described it this way. For a long while I have wondered why so many people claim Christianity, but it's like we have a separate definition. The guy who thought the bible was just a collection of nice stories, but said he was a Christian. Or friends with benefits, but yet helps out with his church youth group.
I'm not saying I'm perfect (I have plenty of faults and flaws on display and those less obvious), but in striving to make Christ the Lord of my life, I have to give up certain things. I have to die to self. I don't always do what I want to do or what "feels good." I strive to make decisions that would be pleasing to God and when I mess up (which is often and not very pretty) I have to confess and get back at it--that, my friends, is Christianity.
It's people who are tragically flawed, but wonderfully forgiven. A group of ragamuffin misfits who are striving to the something more God has called them for. Something more than just a selfish life spent doing only for me. Christianity is supposed to mean Christ-like. But does it? Maybe my real issue is just with the name.
But then that burns me. Christianity is supposed to mean Christ-like. Christ lived on this earth and he ate with sinners and those viewed unclean, but he never lost site of his purpose. Not just to save their souls but to call them to something more, something better. To take up their cross and follow him. To be fishers of men. The road was not promised to be easy, but we were told we wouldn't go it alone. Christ was always aware of the will of the father. Even in some of his final hours it was "my Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will." (Matt 26:9). Constantly striving for God's will in his life.
So when people try to reduce Christ to one single act, though an amazing act of love and grace, it bothers me. It's accepting a gift without a 'thank you.' A life saver is thrown and you take hold. But as soon as you are back to the shore you walk right back to your old habits. Before you know it, your life is on the line again and you expect someone to jump in to save you again. I struggle with allowing that to be Christianity. I don't think the act of "soul saving" was all it was ever meant to be and it can't truly exist apart from a life changed. It's lip service to me. Nothing more than a promise made with no intention of keeping it.
There is no solution. The masses won't read my silly little blog and stop acting the way they do. I'm certainly not going to attack ever poor use of the word 'christian' and make sure that the branding is done properly. I think the only true way for me to combat this is to make sure that I live with Christ as Savior AND as Lord of my life. The rest, unfortunately, will come one day with "depart from me I never knew you."
I think I will stop describing myself as merely a 'Christian' and, as I've seen recently, simply state "I'm a Jesus follower." Because that is more what it is about. Following his will for my life and following his example. A rose by any other name.
It has me thinking about Christianity and how much I have assumed based on one word. I have taken for granted that to some it is just a name; a label a description of how they were raised. But, I'm realizing there is a drastic difference in making Jesus the Savior of your soul and the Lord of your life.
If Jesus is purely Savior then it changes the game. It's a one act play. Once the role has been filled and my get out of jail card is obtained, I no longer need Jesus anymore. It's fire insurance and nothing more.
If Jesus is Lord of your life then it's a whole different set of rules. Suddenly morals and values and sin, grace and mercy come into light as major players. The soul saving becomes the driving force, but not the whole thing. Life becomes more about living in God's will than knowing where you go when you die. It becomes alive and vibrant and there is a purpose not just a final destination.
This is a concept lost on many and, I have to say, until recently I don't know that I would have described it this way. For a long while I have wondered why so many people claim Christianity, but it's like we have a separate definition. The guy who thought the bible was just a collection of nice stories, but said he was a Christian. Or friends with benefits, but yet helps out with his church youth group.
I'm not saying I'm perfect (I have plenty of faults and flaws on display and those less obvious), but in striving to make Christ the Lord of my life, I have to give up certain things. I have to die to self. I don't always do what I want to do or what "feels good." I strive to make decisions that would be pleasing to God and when I mess up (which is often and not very pretty) I have to confess and get back at it--that, my friends, is Christianity.
It's people who are tragically flawed, but wonderfully forgiven. A group of ragamuffin misfits who are striving to the something more God has called them for. Something more than just a selfish life spent doing only for me. Christianity is supposed to mean Christ-like. But does it? Maybe my real issue is just with the name.
But then that burns me. Christianity is supposed to mean Christ-like. Christ lived on this earth and he ate with sinners and those viewed unclean, but he never lost site of his purpose. Not just to save their souls but to call them to something more, something better. To take up their cross and follow him. To be fishers of men. The road was not promised to be easy, but we were told we wouldn't go it alone. Christ was always aware of the will of the father. Even in some of his final hours it was "my Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will." (Matt 26:9). Constantly striving for God's will in his life.
So when people try to reduce Christ to one single act, though an amazing act of love and grace, it bothers me. It's accepting a gift without a 'thank you.' A life saver is thrown and you take hold. But as soon as you are back to the shore you walk right back to your old habits. Before you know it, your life is on the line again and you expect someone to jump in to save you again. I struggle with allowing that to be Christianity. I don't think the act of "soul saving" was all it was ever meant to be and it can't truly exist apart from a life changed. It's lip service to me. Nothing more than a promise made with no intention of keeping it.
There is no solution. The masses won't read my silly little blog and stop acting the way they do. I'm certainly not going to attack ever poor use of the word 'christian' and make sure that the branding is done properly. I think the only true way for me to combat this is to make sure that I live with Christ as Savior AND as Lord of my life. The rest, unfortunately, will come one day with "depart from me I never knew you."
I think I will stop describing myself as merely a 'Christian' and, as I've seen recently, simply state "I'm a Jesus follower." Because that is more what it is about. Following his will for my life and following his example. A rose by any other name.
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