Wouldn't You Like To Be a Pepper, Too?

“Treat a man as he appears to be and you make him worse.  But treat a man as if he already were what he potentially could be, and you make him what he should be.”

     When he was yet in my womb, I prayed for it.  Tenacity.  Strength of conviction that would enable him to say it is so when those around him would say it is not.  Holy stubbornness that refuses to surrender hope to hopelessness.  And tenacious he is!

     This summer, one of the most blisteringly hot I can recall in my thirty-seven years, my tenacious ten-year-old decided to tend a garden.  He was pretty well on his own on this venture, for unfortunately, his mother has little to no gardening savvy.  Yet he was not dissuaded.  He read books, and he talked with his grandmother (who has an exceptionally green thumb), and he tilled and planted with gusto.  I had never seen the child quite so diligent.  Morning and evening he would water his two little pepper plants and his three little tomato plants, and every day they would be inspected carefully and thoroughly.  But the summer heat was crushing.  Despite his diligent and faithful care, his plants began to wither and show signs of distress.  Trying to protect his heart from feelings of failure and discouragement, I talked to him about articles I’d read concerning the heat and drought and how many far more seasoned gardeners than he were losing crops this year.  To be quite honest, I wanted him to give up.  It was almost painful for me to watch him care for something that I knew would inevitably yield no fruit.  But there was that tenacity I prayed for!  And so he continued his ritual of care and tending.

     Yesterday morning, nearly five months after planting his garden, my Grant came to me with a grin on his face and a peck of peppers in hand that he had picked from his little plants.  Astounding!  To top that off, he was delighted to inform me of a small, green tomato spotted on one of his tomato plants, as well as blooms galore on the others.

     Perhaps you’ve never stopped to consider how you might identify with a pepper plant, but I began to do so as I sat marveling over my son’s October harvest.  Sometimes, for one reason or another- some of those reasons being choices we make, and some of them being things which are completely out of our control- we seem to suffer from failure to thrive.  We don’t seem to be growing where we’re planted.  From the outside, we may appear to be withered and dead- not even worth the time and effort to tend.  Maybe we’ve even been abandoned by those who have deemed us a lost cause.  Yet God sees what no one else sees- that the fruit within us is not dead, but dormant.  And as only a master gardener can, he cares and tends and heals and restores, and those tender sprouts regain vitality, and that fruit comes forth.  Perhaps not on anyone else’s timetable, not meeting the “should” standards imposed by the proverbial “they.”  I’ve found that God really doesn’t get hung up on such things.  He has an affinity for the weary, beaten down, and written off.  He looks beyond appearance and calls forth that which is!

Life Lessons From Mars

Several years ago, I watched a movie about a group of astronauts who were on an expedition to Mars.  While there, they discovered an alien species intent upon sharing some bit of pertinent information with them.  There was some sort of an apparatus into which the aliens were enticing them to enter.  The leader of the troop chose to trust.  Stepping in, he found himself immediately “trapped” as doors shut around him and the space he was in began filling with fluid.  He was quickly in over his head, frantically searching for some way of escape.  The moment came when he could no longer hold his breath, and with a look of resignation, he closed his eyes and exhaled.  A few seconds later, his eyes opened in surprise, for he realized he could, in fact, breath in this particular fluid.  Then the Martians were able to reveal things to him of his origins and his creator and prepare him for unimaginable other-worldly feats.  The movie took on a decidedly political and evolutional flavor from then on, but I was struck by what the writers of the script might not even have realized were spiritual truths.  We learn early on that we have to look out for ourselves.  "Don’t be too quick to trust!"  Survival and self-sufficiency become ways of life which, ironically, sap life from us.  We are only free to move within the confines of our abilities to control our surroundings, circumstances, and outcomes.  Yet God’s love for us runs so deeply, and his desire to be known by us is so great that he’ll orchestrate the happenings of our lives in such ways that we’ll find ourselves in those situations that are beyond our ability to control.  We find ourselves in over our heads, wearing ourselves out with futile attempts to survive, until we can no longer hold our breaths.  And we give up, resigning ourselves to the inevitable.  But God says, “You’re blessed when you’re at the end of your rope.  With less of you, there is more of [me] and [my] rule.  You’re blessed when you feel you’ve lost what is most dear to you.  Only then can you be embraced by the one most dear to you.”  He says to us, “Breathe!”  And we find we can do that which we didn’t imagine possible; we begin to truly understand who our Creator is, and he shows us who we are; and it becomes our delight to cultivate that love relationship with him.  Prep work is done for extraordinary feats beyond our wildest imagination.  May you be reminded today of how much God is for you.  He sees beyond what you’ve done, what you do, where you’ve been, and where you are to who it is he knows you to be.

Wedding Memories

When I was two years old, I was the flower girl in my aunt’s and uncle’s wedding.  I’m sure there was a rehearsal, and I’m sure I was instructed how to proceed down the aisle and where I was to stand after scattering my petals.  I don’t remember that.  What I do remember distinctly, however, is entering a room with giants standing in rows on either side, their gazes all directly upon me.  I remember feeling terrified, and my feet remained frozen.  Until I spotted my daddy.  Being a part of the wedding party, he was already at the front of the church with the other men.  He was my daddy, and he was my security.  And so I ran down the aisle, screaming the whole way, “Daddy!”  And I stood safely by his side for the remainder of the ceremony.

The Holy Spirit recently brought this memory to the forefront of my mind.  I’m far from being a two-year-old, but in so many ways, I can identify with little girl I once was.  When I enter the arena of my life, it often happens that I encounter giants in one form or another.  Some are real; others simply perceived, but the result is the same:  I am paralyzed by fear.  I can’t seem to take even one more step down the pathway of my becoming because the risk seems so very great.  I momentarily forget what I’ve already learned because the sneering faces of the giants are so daunting.  Until I spot my Daddy.  He’s my security, and he beckons me remain by his side for always.  In his presence, there is joy, and there is peace, and there is protection.  Giants become diminutive, and I regain the strength necessary to rise and walk and Become.

Ramblings of a Struggling Perfectionist

I don’t know why I expect myself to know what I don’t know.  Not only know what I don’t know, but perfectly execute feats of skill and prowess without adherence to the adage, “Practice makes perfect.”  I want immediate “perfect” without “practice.”  That could hint to impatience, of which I’m certainly guilty.  I’ve become accustomed to instant gratification and can become embarrassingly childish when having to wait for something.  But this goes beyond mere impatience.  It’s not that only that I want “perfect”, but I expect it of myself.  I might try to fool myself into believing that perfectionism is the standard to which I hold only myself, but the truth is that I will hold everyone to the standard by which I determine my own worth or acceptability, and if that standard is perfection, then perfection is what I will expect and demand of everyone.

I’ve heard much mention about perfectionism, often comments made in jest.  Yet I find that the root of perfectionism is deep and gnarly and invasive and nothing to joke about.  Perfectionism seeks out, at the very core of who I am, that root of worth; and it attaches itself and injects itself and seeks to become synonymous with the definition of self.  It detracts from who I am because it makes it so that I can’t be apart from what I do.  It inverts that which God ordained- that I do because of who I am- and screams at me the absurdity of such a notion.  “Do!  Do!  Do!  And thereby be!”

The cure, I believe, for perfectionism is failure.  I must recognize that failure is not necessarily equivalent to sinfulness.  In fact, as I walk in sync and in friendship with Jesus, a great deal of my failures will not be sin issues.  They’ll simply be moments of learning.  I believe the thing God is trying to teach me is to see the beauty in brokenness; to behold myself not merely as a mess, but as a beautiful mess, or in the words of my dear cousin, a “good mess.”  When we risk, there’s the potential and even the probability of failure.  But there’s also the potential and even probability of unimaginable discovery and reward and opportunity to be catapulted even further into our destinies.

I realize that God isn’t asking me to lead a “play it safe” life.  “The goal of life isn’t to arrive safely at death.”  To live a life of risk means I must take an axe to the root of perfectionism.  I don’t fully understand right now how to do that, or what it will look like.  But I can imagine Jesus, chuckling while I frustratedly attempt to perfectly nix perfectionism.  “Silly girl!” he says.  Then he comes up, takes the axe from my hands, and says, “Here.  Watch how I do.  Learn from me.  I’ll teach you the unforced rhythms of grace.  And while we’re at it, let’s get our hands a little dirty!”

In the Throes

Throes.  What a great word.  In sound and mental imagery.  Not so much in meaning.  It means “a sharp attack of emotion.”  Certainly I am “in the throes.”  And the reason I don’t just get to the point of this particular blog entry.  To admit my struggles, I have to make myself vulnerable, and that’s a scary place to be.  Nonetheless, I’ve experienced enough with God over my 30+ years of knowing him to know that he’s always waiting for me at that point of vulnerability, healing balm in hand.  Oh, it doesn’t always feel so good to have it applied at the time.  But just as my mother would blow on my cuts and scrapes to help soothe the sting after she would apply medicine, the Holy Spirit breathes life into those broken places in my life and causes beauty to rise from the ashes.  I know this to be truth.  And so, scary though it might be, I put my heart out there.

It’s not that I have difficulty with authenticity.  You see, I’ve experienced the freedom that comes from allowing those secret things out into the open.  There’s tremendous healing that takes place when the power of secrecy is unseated, and Satan no longer has anything to hold over your head.  I don’t care much what anyone thinks about my past failures because I know what Jesus has told me about them.  Not that I’m incredibly proud of each and every choice I’ve ever made in my lifetime, but there remains no guilt or condemnation or regret because of the intimacy I share with Jesus, and because of that, I don’t have much trouble speaking to people about the things that used to trip me up or the mires out of which God rescued me.  To say to you, “I was struggling with this thing, but this is how God brought me out of it” is nothing.  Or something.  Sure, it gives glory to God for what his hand has wrought; but it makes me look pretty good, too.  I did have this problem, but now I’m oh-so-good in this area.  It means I’m all cleaned up, so while I can assure you there was indeed a mess there, I don’t really have to let you see it.

It’s much different when I’m in the throes of agony brought on by a struggle.  Just to dive right in… I don’t want to appear weak.  Perhaps that’s pride, and certainly I want pride in any area of my life to be nipped in the bud; but I believe pride is only the fruit of the belief that nurtures it.  If I had to voice my belief statement, I suppose it would be something along the lines of, “I believe that if I appear weak, the proverbial ‘they’ will be disgusted with my lack of strength and will, therefore, leave me and seek out those who are less timid, more sure of themselves.”  I don’t believe that about God.  In fact, I’ve given myself those pep talks that go, “God is all I need.  Everyone could abandon me, but God won’t.”  True in one sense:  God will NEVER abandon me.  But it’s a subtle twist on truth that is, in actuality, a lie from the enemy to say that “God is all I need.”  It’s true that God is God, and he’s the supplier of everything I have need of and the giver of every good and perfect gift.  Yet from the onset of humanity, it was he who created us for community.  It was he who saw that Adam was lonely and gave him Eve.  It wasn’t that Adam deemed God simply wasn’t enough; it was that God put it in his DNA to live in relationship with others- created in the image of God, who demonstrates relationship and community to us through the three-in-one Godhead.

My enemy knows my need for relationship, and he knows the tender places in my heart to attack.  He’ll taunt me with words uttered to me as a child, “You’re not really a leader, but you’re a good little follower.”  He’ll remind me of how often I tend to avoid conflict, not so much because I’m a peacemaker, but because I don’t want anyone to be angry with me.  I don’t want anyone to disagree with me.  The enemy tries to persuade me that disagreement hints to the fact that one is right and one is wrong, and most likely I’m the one whose beliefs or opinions or convictions are out of line.  [Caveat:  When did the point of relationship begin to revolve around the need to be right?  There are some issues on which opinion is merely opinion; there’s not necessarily right or wrong; and even if there is, we would probably realize that, if we were to focus on unity and the things on which we have in common, these are the things that are most important anyhow, and the choice to “agree to disagree” on certain things allows the Holy Spirit to manifest much more in and through us.]

The fact is, I can’t make anyone keep being my friend.  The hurt goes far deeper when I recognize the effects it has on my children.  And while there’s legitimate emotion and grief that comes from disunity, the enemy is using one happenstance as a platform by which to tout his accusations against me: “You’re flawed at your core.  You’re weak.  You’re timid.  You can’t lead yourself, let alone anyone else.  How can you think you can hear God regarding anything?  You should give in to this depression that wants to overtake you, and you should give up.”

I don’t pen this today fishing for compliments.  The fact is, I know what God says about me, and I know how he sees me.  He’s so good about bringing me in line when I misstep while extending grace and mercy and also showing me when I’m allowing my actions, inactions, thought processes and beliefs to be formed by the opinions of others or religious interpretations of “truth” that weren’t what he intended my life to be governed by.  I pour out my heart in written form today for myriad reasons:

1.                 Frankly, it’s therapeutic.  Writing has always been a place in which I’ve sought and found solace- a means by which I’ve been able to collect my random thoughts and bring some order to the meanderings of my mind.

2.                This is bud-nipping.  I want to be a human catalyst; I want to share with you truths and insights that I’ve received as I walk with Jesus that might inspire you to be the person God sees when he looks at you, that you might experience this side of heaven all the fullness of life God intends for you to experience.  I have to be watchful, however, of pride that creeps in and would somehow convey that I’ve got it all figured out.  Life is about walking in step with Jesus- not about making sure you’re one step ahead of anyone else.

3.                This is an offensive move on my part.  I’ve been asking God to reveal to me those things that the enemy would rather keep hidden- his strategies for wreaking havoc in my life and for trying to keep my true self from becoming fully awakened and fully engaged.  I’m exposing him.

4.                As I mentioned before, I want to be a human catalyst.  Not only that, but I truly love people.  My heart bleeds today for that person reading this who can perhaps identify with my struggles because they’re facing similar ones.  Maybe their true identity fears to rise to the surface because they’re not necessarily mainstream; maybe their ideas, opinions, and beliefs seem to go against the flow, even though they’ve taken them before God and they seem to be God-inspired.  Or perhaps their situation is different, yet there’s something I’ve written that sparks something in them.  Whatever the case, I want God to take every part of my life and transform it into something amazing, and I want him to not only do that for my benefit, but for the benefit of the one he loves so very much that he knows needs the very thing he’s done for me.  Hope that made sense.  It did in my head. J  

I may be a mess right now, but I know this:  “You keep track of all my sorrows.  You have collected all my tears in your bottle.  You have recorded each one in your book.” (Psalm 56:8)  God loves me!  Not only is he keenly aware of my sorrows, but he’s already known how he plans to turn this around for my good and to help me rise and walk.

Psalm 18:16-24

^16-19 But me he caught—reached all the way 
      from sky to sea; he pulled me out 
   Of that ocean of hate, that enemy chaos, 
      the void in which I was drowning. 
   They hit me when I was down, 
      but God stuck by me. 
   He stood me up on a wide-open field; 
      I stood there saved—surprised to be loved! 

 ^20-24 God made my life complete 
      when I placed all the pieces before him. 
   When I got my act together, 
      he gave me a fresh start. 
   Now I'm alert to God's ways; 
      I don't take God for granted. 
   Every day I review the ways he works; 
      I try not to miss a trick. 
   I feel put back together, 
      and I'm watching my step. 
   God rewrote the text of my life 
      when I opened the book of my heart to his eyes.

Kamikaze Cardinal

When it began, it was somewhat comical.  As it continued, it was a bit concerning.  At this point, it’s just irritating.

You see, a few days ago, a female cardinal began attacking our kitchen window.  At first, we chalked it up to having such pristine windows that the bird simply couldn’t see the barrier in an attempt to investigate our home.  But it happened repeatedly.  She would perch on a tree branch near the window before flying at it and hitting her beak on the glass.  I began to feel sorry for the bird and wondered what might be causing her actions, so I looked to the Internet for answers.  I was relieved to find that we were not, in fact, dealing with a Kamikaze cardinal.  Apparently various species of territorial birds become even more defensive of their turf during brooding season.  This soon-to-be momma bird doesn’t recognize that the bird she sees in the window is merely her own reflection.  Seeing it as a potential threat to her nest and eggs, she attacks.  And attacks.  And attacks.  According to what I read, you can attempt to cover the outside of the window so as to keep her from seeing her reflection, although one’s efforts might be in vain.  The bird may go in search of its nefarious nemesis and with all probability will find it at another window of your home.  Apparently this behavior can be expected to continue for the duration of spring!

As a mother, however, I can relate to this bird’s desire to defend her young, so I endure and somewhat admire her diligent efforts.  Yet I began to think… How sad it would be if, because of this bird’s diverted attention to a threat that is only perceived, an actual enemy came in from behind and brought devastation to that which she so valiantly seeks to protect.

I would like to think I have more than a “bird brain”- that I can tell the difference between a reflection and the real deal.  That being said, I have to wonder how many of the battles I engage in are necessary and how many of them are a diversionary tactic.  How often does Satan throw out a decoy to divert my focus and then creep in through the back door?  I can see in hindsight that this has occurred more times than I care to admit.  Sadly enough, I’ve been guilty of “friendly fire.”  In earnest sincerity, I’ve been sincerely wrong.  I’ve viewed other friends of Jesus’ as competition; I’ve focused on our differences of opinion with regard to doctrine or theology or something of the sort rather than our commonality as the bride of Christ.  When this happens- when the Church tears at itself from the inside- the consequences are much more far reaching than we realize; and the enemy scores.

Diversionary tactics come in other forms as well.  Focus is defined as “a point upon which attention, activity, etc., is directed or concentrated”.  What we focus on gains our attention, our efforts, and our energy.  The enemy shrewdly tempts us to avert our eyes from Jesus in order to focus on something else.  Sometimes it’s how I’m feeling.  For some, it may be the temptation to succumb to negativity.  For others, the trap may be using the knowledge we have that emotions stem from something and trying to figure out what’s going on apart from the Holy Spirit’s guidance in such matters.  Sometimes it may be what has some bit of legitimacy to it, such as a dream or desire.  Scripture is very clear that God does indeed plant dream seeds and desires in our hearts.  Indeed, I’m convinced that part of loving God and seeking after him with our whole hearts is allowing ourselves to discover and pursue those things within us that God put there for us to do and become.  The thing is, in order for this to work out according to God’s perfect plan, it must be done within the context of a life focused on Jesus.  You see, the object of our focus becomes magnified.  When our eyes are fixed on Jesus, our dreams, our desires, our disappointments- everything- is seen through the lens of heaven, and we attain proper perspective.  When our focus is diverted, then God becomes smaller to us, and our true selves retreat just a bit.

I’m impressed with the perseverance and tenacity of this cardinal who has taken up residence in my backyard.  I’m more impressed at how the Holy Spirit can use even the irritating pecking of a bird on a window to cause me to reflect on truth.

One Size Fits All?!

I’ve written about this before, but it’s been on the forefront of my mind recently, and so I’m writing about it again.  I’ve been thinking about the biblical account of a young shepherd who slew a terrifying adversary.  For many, the story of David and Goliath calls forth memories of flannel graph storyboards in a Sunday school room and would-be slingshots created from felt and yarn.  It might also bring to mind phraseology wrought from the story over the years, such as “Face your giants.”  But I’ve been thinking about David’s fashion statement.

Then Saul outfitted David as a soldier in armor. He put his bronze helmet on his head and belted his sword on him over the armor. David tried to walk but he could hardly budge.

    David told Saul, "I can't even move with all this stuff on me. I'm not used to this." And he took it all off.

1 Samuel 17:38-39

David realized that what served Saul in battle was only going to trip him up.  Though Saul had the best of intentions, he was heaping onto David things that were ill-fitting and too heavy, and they immobilized David.  For David to move forward into his destiny, he had to be David.  One size, when it came to battle attire, did not fit all.

Neither does one size fit all when it comes to our moving forward into our destinies.  One aspect of our destinies that every other aspect spills out of is how we relate with God- not to him, but with him.  Perhaps the distinction is only in my own mind; yet it seems to make such an important, albeit subtle, difference.  It’s the difference between merely having reference of something or someone versus growing a relationship.  In any case, it is an ever-growing, intimate friendship with God that propels us into our true selves; it is the catalyst for our “becoming.”  Herein often lies the problem that many of us have dealt with in one form or another.  How often we miss the nuances of his gentle persuasion, his wooing of our hearts, his invitation to dance with him in a wide, open space because we’ve succumbed to One Size Fits All Christianity.  So many times, with the best of intentions, one or another of us as followers of Christ- individually or corporately- will attempt to be “helpful.”  We’ll take what has helped us in the past, but rather than offering it as something to try, we use it as a formula or rule, and we unintentionally heap heavy burdens onto others.  This tends to stunt that blossoming romance of the heart because there so often comes a paralysis of the soul as we (yes, I’m putting “we” onto both sides of the field because I would imagine that all of us have been on the giving as well as receiving sides at one point or another) try to move with “stuff” on us that we’re not used to.  The enemy is all too willing to point out that our helmet isn’t placed appropriately, or we’re not holding our shield just the right way.  We’re messing up, we’re failing, and how can we ever hope to have the kind of relationship with God and walk in freedom and joy with such a sense of destiny as so-and-so.

One size does NOT fit all.  I’m not speaking of the absolutes of wrong and right, nor of those things that all Christians have in common that are unchangeable and concrete.  I’m speaking about our own personal journeys of becoming.  God is a God of creativity and variety, and his relationship with you will look like his relationship with no one else’s.  I read a book recently wherein the author noted that “C.S. Lewis had once surmised that each person is created to see a different facet of God’s beauty- something that no one else can see in quite the same way- and then to bless all worshipers through all eternity with an aspect of God they could not otherwise see.”

There are beautiful robes with which God wants to adorn all his children, and they’re tailor-made; hand-crafted by a Father who loves each of his children with such incredible passion, that he elaborates on your attire as he does no one else’s.  You’re his favorite, you know!  And so am I.

So Father, here am I, your favorite daughter, and I thank you for each of these, my brothers and sisters, who likewise are your favorites.  For those who have for far too long now attempted to wear hand-me-downs or to don borrowed garments that were really meant for someone else, I ask you to wrap them up in your arms, first and foremost.  I ask you to give them a heavenly mirror, and as they gaze at their reflection, may they see only the person you see when you look at them- someone in whom you delight and find great joy; someone with whom you’re pleased; someone who is the apple of your eye.  May they then recognize the beauty and majesty of how you intend to outfit them.  To paraphrase a book title, Daddy God, my brothers and sisters were created originals; may they not be content to die as copies.

I love you, Jesus.