Caught In A Storm

You say you're close, but I can't feel your embrace.
You say you delight over me, but I can't see your smile.
You say your love is everlasting, but I don't feel your presence.

If I am too small to reach you, and you won't pick me up, then why wouldn't I feel orphaned, widowed and estranged?
Like a baby in a crib, crying to be held and comforted and loved, whose parents turn their backs and walk away, she knows no comfort.

If what I experience of you is fleeting then how can you expect me to know closeness?
Or intimacy?
Or warmth?

How can you expect me to know love or kindness or hope when there's always something between me and you, or even me and someone else?
Something that cannot be easily breached?
Something few dare attempt to breach or even approach?
Something dark and fierce and cold.
It has a name. Mistrust.

How can I know love or hope or faith if I cannot be touched?
How can I be captivating or beautiful or anything good if I am not pursued? Embraced?
The beautiful ones, the captivating ones, the good ones...they are pursued and embraced.
They are wanted.
Needed.
They belong...

Not I.
I don't really know what that's like.
I don't recognize it.
It is a glamour.
It entices.
It teases.
It promises delight and delivers emptiness.

I know orphaned.
Outcast.
Unseen.
Unheard.
Unknown.

You say, "I love you."
I hear nails screeching down a chalkboard, fraying the senses.

You say, "You are precious to me."
I hear words, words, words wordswordswordsWORDS...

You say, "Trust me."
I say, "Why should I? How can I? I don't know how..."

You say, "Let me show you."
I say, "Go for it..."

Dead Weight

My heart has been stirring in me for a while now, directing me toward a big move. This will be the biggest move I've made since graduating high school.

I grew up in the Houston area. After high school, I moved to the Dallas-Fort Worth area to attend college. I've been here ever since.

For the past few months, I've been feeling the pull to relocate to a new city. This means a new job, a new place to live and a completely new life. It's particularly challenging because I'm not one to just up and leave.

I've worked for the same organization for 19 years. I've been in the same apartment for 16 years. During the course of my time here I've accumulated stuff. A lot of stuff.

This week I started the process of downsizing. I'm giving stuff away to friends or donating it to Goodwill. Some of the stuff might be considered valuable.

I had a bunch of etched glassware that I gave to a friend. She asked me if the pieces are antiques. I think, since the pieces are at least 70 years old, that etched glassware might be considered antique by some. I don't really know. I don't really care.

I do know that, regardless of how old these pieces might be, they're just stuff.

Really, they're just items. Things. I don't really need them.

There's a difference between what I need and what I want. Most days, I forget that.

So, now I'm in the process of downsizing. I simply don't know what to do with some of the things I've been keeping. Old slides, photos and yearbooks, where the only people who might have some emotional attachment to them are dead.

The question that comes to mind as I process through things is this - When does it become dead weight?

I'm admittedly at the early stages of recovery from being a packrat. The easy way is to hang onto stuff. It's also a bit lazy, I suspect. Just put it way and don't think about it.

The problem with being a packrat is that, eventually, a time will come when the hard work of cleaning house is necessary. We can't spend our lives lugging around things that have been passed down from earlier generations. A lot of it proves to be dead weight.

This is true of emotional and attitudinal things, as well. Downsizing takes work, particularly if it hasn't been done in a while. But I don't think we can live in freedom without it.

As you look at your life, what are you hanging onto that's become dead weight?

Escaping the Comparison Trap

Here is a sneak peek at the devotional I wrote for work this week.

"But we all, with unveiled face,
beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord,
are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory,
just as from the Lord, the Spirit."
(2 Corinthians 3:18)

Julia questioned the quality of her faith. She saw others who were comfortable doing and saying things with which she was not yet at ease. Even though, by her own admission, she had been growing in her love of scripture and intimacy with God, she felt pressured to be in the same spiritual place as others in her church.

To Julia’s mind, they were “better Christians” because of the way they expressed their faith in Jesus.

“It’s not a contest,” I told her. “You are not them and they are not you. You are unique in all of creation, just like I am. Every person is a distinctive individual. You have strengths and weakness, just like they do. Your relationship with the Lord and how He works in your life is going to be one of a kind because He made you to be you, and no one else. Really, it’s not a contest!!”

God made each of us to be utterly unique. However, we often evaluate our spiritual growth and ministry by what we see in the lives of others.

The Apostle Paul discussed the marvelous variety of gifts and ministries within the Body of Christ in his first letter to the Corinthians. “There are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit. And there are varieties of ministries, and the same Lord. There are varieties of effects, but the same God who works all things in all persons.” (1 Corinthians 12:4-6)

As Paul noted, all of the gifts, ministries and effects come from God. It is God who does the work in the Body. It is He who does the work in us individually, as well.

It is very easy to fall into the comparison trap. It takes little effort to see someone else, whose gifts or ministries seem more prominent or evident than ours, and assume that they are more spiritual or mature. We feel like we must compete, but it’s difficult to love someone with whom we are a rival. That sort of rivalry drives a wedge between people.

In his first letter to the Corinthian church, Paul took them to task for divisions that had appeared amongst the people. They fell into the comparison trap and were arguing about who was following whom. Some were saying, “I follow Paul,” while others were saying, “I follow Apollos!” Paul told them, “I planted, Apollos watered, but God was causing the growth.” (1 Corinthians 3:6)

The reality is that growth comes from God. Jesus emphasized this principle for Himself when He said that He could do nothing by Himself, and that the Father’s work was done through Him. (John 5:19, 14:10)

Jesus also talked about this in the Gospel of John where He described our relationship with Him as branches on a vine. That connection is what causes the growth. Apart from Him, we can do nothing. We cannot grow, which is necessary for the production of fruit in our lives, if we are disconnected from the vine. The production of fruit - love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness and self-control - is what indicates growth and maturity in a believer. That fruit is what gives glory to the Lord.

When we redirect our focus from connecting with God to what our lives look like in comparison to others’, we lose the life-giving, growth-creating branch-to-vine connection that is essential to spiritual life. We start withering on the vine because we have stepped into a place of rule-keeping where we are measuring ourselves by an incorrect standard, we stifle freedom, and we are no longer allowing the life of the vine to grow us. We’ve traded the freedom of the life of Christ for something that cannot nurture or sustain us.

Our salvation and spiritual growth are gifts we experience because we place our confidence in Christ. We don’t even come to Him, or love Him, without Him wooing our hearts with His love. This leaves no room for boasting or pride, both of which are byproducts of the comparison trap.
Jesus tells the story of a farmer who planted seed as an illustration of the Kingdom of God. The seed sprouts and grows, but the farmer does not understand how it happens. “The earth,” Jesus says, “produces the crops on its own.” (Mark 4:26-28)

The farmer may have created an environment that was healthy for the crops to grow, but he did not cause that growth to take place. The same is true for spiritual disciplines, such as scripture reading and prayer.

While we can cultivate a healthy spiritual environment in our lives, we cannot make ourselves grow. Only God can do that.

Once Julia took her focus off others and redirected it to the Lord, she was able to genuinely recognize the growth she had been experiencing, and felt a freedom and joy that had been missing. Her doubts faded away as she truly saw how God had been working in her life, cultivating and growing her as only He can.

(The complete devotional will be available at http://www.lifetoday.org/)

Some Thoughts

I haven't been blogging much this summer. I haven't really wanted to since I think, generally speaking, blogging should be an encouraging thing.

I confess, I've been trying to battle through some deeply entrenched...well, "crap" is probably the most honest word. I've been feeling a lot of frustration and restlessness with life and am not sure what to do with everything I've been feeling. Part of me wants to discard everything I've built over the last 19, such as it is, and go somewhere fresh and new. Part of me wants to hunker down and ride the restlessness out until it fades and everything goes back to normal.

I've been here before. I've been restless and frustrated with life before. I rode it out, which is why I've been at the same organization for 19 years. I have to be practical, after all, since I'm the only one providing for me. Of course, since I am only providing for me I could up and go elsewhere if I so chose.

I'm not sure where I want to go, though there is one place which has my curiosity roused. I'm even less sure what I want to do, though I know I want it to matter.

Today, two icons of my youth died - Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson. Michael Jackson touched generations with his music and dancing, setting industry standards in the process. I remember wanting to be just like Farrah Fawcett when I was a girl - beautiful, free and beloved. Millions of people are in mourning at their loss.

Death tends to put some things in perspective.

Maybe I will follow my curiosity further, just to see what else is out there...