Oct 2, 2013 | 31 Days, Stories, The Good Word
Hi there! This post is the second in a 31-Day writing adventure I’m embarking on. I’d love for you to join me and read along. You can find the introduction to the series, and a “Table of Contents” as each day goes live, right here. Thanks so much for dropping in!
If there is one thing I can pinpoint that I find most frustrating about the experience of being human, it’s humanity. Not everybody else’s humanity — it’s my own shortcomings that, metaphorically speaking, keep getting under my skin.
A couple of weeks ago, I had a rather unfortunate experience at the bank, where someone made a pretty bad judgment call about what was happening when I was being helped by the teller. He made a very hurtful comment and followed it up by not being willing to hear what I had to say in defense of the significant amount of time I took with the teller. I cried in my car… cried again when one of the tellers called to apologize while I was in the parking lot at Walmart… it basically just kind of stunk.
I shared the story just after it happened, but I haven’t yet shared the follow-up story, what happened the Monday after that fateful Friday afternoon. By the end of the incident, I knew the name of the gentleman who’d spoken so harshly to me. When I got home from my errands and shared what had happened, the Hubs was… pretty much livid.
He handled it well, but decided he wanted to do something in my defense. So, on Monday afternoon, I was busy in my kitchen when he walked in with the phone in his hand and said “Someone wants to speak with you.”
He’d contacted the guy from the bank, explained that he’d been rude to his wife, and said he owed me an apology. I answered the phone and he apologized in an “if I have offended you…” sort of way. Not really committing — if you get my drift?
I took a moment to explain what was happening at the bank that afternoon when he was waiting in line. That there were 112 checks to process. That those checks were to cover my Dad’s medical bills. That that day was the six month anniversary of his death.
And once he had the whole story? He really apologized. Through a few more tears, I encouraged him to remember that you don’t always know what is going on in other’s people’s lives, so it’s best to be careful with everyone. He agreed that that was good advice and seemed to sincerely take it to heart.
At the end of the interaction, I was thankful I’d had the opportunity to speak with him, appreciated the apology, and was especially grateful to the amazing husband who stood in the kitchen with me, held me while I cried once more and said “You don’t deserve to be treated like that.” {Hero, more and more all the time…}
Reflecting on this incident, I see myself in the bank story — but I’m not always the protagonist. Sometimes I’m the one misjudging others, the one who doesn’t really want to hear the explanations for what I’ve already made my own judgments about. Sometimes I’m one of the other customers in line who stands there and agrees with the guy who’s getting impatient, stoking the fire instead of suggesting there’s the possibility that something else is going on there.
I say things I later regret. I do things I wish I didn’t do. And this is the frailty that makes the human experience so challenging. Our imperfections and weaknesses are an integral part of the story — we even say it, when we make mistakes:
I’m only human.
And that only human place? That is the place where God steps in with strength for our frailty.
What seems like a liability, God turns into an asset.
Paul explains it this way:
But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong. {2 Cor. 12: 9-10}
Paul’s weakness started out as a source of frustration for him, but in God’s glorious goodness, He saw it fit to redeem those weaknesses — and turn them into a personal advantage. The more weakness we struggle with, the more we can lean on the power of God instead of trying to stand on our own {in}sufficiency.
We will make bad calls. We’ll make mistakes. We’ll make misjudgments. We might sometimes be the one that sends someone else to their minivan in tears, and not even know it.
But there is grace and forgiveness for those poor choices, and by the help of the Holy Spirit, there is the hope that we can walk the line a little better next time, that we can stay in step with the Spirit, that we can follow the example of Jesus.
Will we ever be completely comfortable in our own skin? Probably not. But that God chooses to stand with us, work through us, forgive us and use us anyway? It’s nothing short of glorious.
xCC
Oct 1, 2013 | 31 Days, The Good Word
Hi there! This post is the first in a 31-Day writing adventure I’m embarking on. I’d love for you to join me and read along. You can find the introduction to the series, and a “Table of Contents” as each day goes live, right here. Thanks so much for dropping in!
The last time I thought about it, I think I was staring out the kitchen window, hands deep in gloves deep in hot, soapy water, washing dishes. I’m sure I was busy wondering how it was all going to get done on that particular day: the homeschooling, the laundry, the diaper changes and naps and lunch and starting dinner and returning phone calls and trying my darnedest to check a thing or two off the estate-settling list while posting a sneak peek for Quiver Tree.
When I look back at that list? It is dumb. Because life never comes at you that way. If you’re on the baseball field, the pitcher throws one ball, and that’s what you deal with. If you’re on the tennis court, there’s just one ball coming at you, unless the person playing on the next court over is just that bad. Maybe if you’re feeling really adventurous or you’re Forrest Gump, you’ll try to simultaneously play ping pong with two people and two balls.
But really? I’ve never been slapped with a moment where there were literally eight things that needed to happen simultaneously. Sure, sometimes, more than one kid is crying or more than one diaper needs changing. But usually? Even if there are a hundred things on the list, they never all have to happen right then. The tough part is always choosing the one.
I’ve realized I think I make those lists in my head to make me feel better about the fact that I’m walking around with a bad attitude.
Don’t expect me to have a good attitude, dang it, can’t you see my list!?!
As I stood there with my hands deep in gloves deep in water in the sink, I began to feel for a moment, as if I was sinking like the heavy dishes I’d been scrubbing. But a little hope can go a very long way — I purposefully redirected my attention to God.
It probably went something like, “Lord, do You see my list?” {Sigh.}
And the reminder that immediately followed was a gift in word-form:
Just take it one day at a time.
There have absolutely been moments in my life where I’ve thought about how nice it would be to get a glimpse of the big picture. How much easier it would be to endure the tough moments if I could go ahead and see past them, see what’s around the bend. There have been moments where I’ve realized I’ve allowed my brain to wander down a rabbit trail of what-ifs that involve future possibilities that are so stinking unlikely it’s ridiculous. Or how many times have I re-lived past failures in my head, as if I could concentrate hard enough to change them?
But in His glorious goodness, the Lord already knows this thing that I’m slowly warming up to: the best way to live the days that you’re given is one at a time. Forget what’s behind and press on, but don’t worry about tomorrow, each day has enough trouble of its own.
So, friends, here it is: an unexpected gift that you have the privilege of enjoying. One slice of your wildly precious life. Savor it and make the most of it.
You always only ever have today. What a gloriously good gift.
xCC
Sep 30, 2013 | 31 Days, Stories, The Good Word
Hi there! I’m posting the links to each day on this post to make it easy for folks to find them. Please scroll down to read the #31 days series introduction!
Day 1: One Day at a Time
Day 2: The Strength in Our Frailty (And the Guy at the Bank)
Day 3: Blind Faith Sees
Day 4: On Dragons, Angels and Jesus
Day 5: You Got Spirit, Let’s Hear It
Day 6: The Declaration of Un-independence
Day 7: Fight Fear with Good
Day 8: Holy Stooping and Drama Llamas
Day 9: Lost and Found
Day 10: The Gift in Giving
Day 11: Finding Yourself
Day 12: Life’s Beautiful Brevity
Day 13: Blessed Obedience
Day 14: Joy from Ashes
Day 15: A Heads Up at Halfway
Day 16: Work Worth Waiting For
Day 17: When Less is More
Day 18: Beautiful No-Nos
Day 19: The Voice(s)
Day 20: Faith is a Team Sport
Day 21: On Entering Negative Space
Day 22: Using Your Voice
Day 23: Simple Trust
Day 24: Because You Know What They Say
Day 25: For When You Can’t Keep Going, But You Must
Day 26: Unconventional Wisdom
Day 27: Love in the Small Stuff OR Lessons from Baby Clothes
Day 28: Overlooking the Junk for the Love
Day 29: That Super-hard L-Word
Day 30: The Joyful Decrease
Day 31: Reflections on His Goodness
I guess this story really starts about five years ago, when The Nester wrote about the same topic for 31 days. She has a fantastic blog about, well, nesting naturally, but about 3,700 other great topics fit inside of that realm, too. And five years ago, she wrote, I loved it, and I thought, “Ooh! I want to do that!” The next year, she invited eight friends to join in, and I, from far away in South Africa, read along and thought, “Ooh, I still want to do that!” and the next year, she sort of “opened it to the general public” and 746 people jumped in. I thought, “Ooh, I still want to do that!” but I think I was moving countries and had some small children or something.
Then, last year, 31 Days arrived again and I thought, “Oooooh! I still want to do that!” But I was very pregnant and certain the little one would arrive early and I was unwilling to sacrifice sleep and I had other small children and… wow, here I am making excuses again.
So, this year, I decided to bring this little challenge before the Lord and let Him make the excuses for me, because then I would feel better about having an excuse not to do something that I think would be quite good for me. I was standing in front of the washing machine, which thankfully has a window behind it which allows me to look out toward the river while I ponder how much time I actually spend on laundry each week, and wonder what the bottom of my laundry basket looks like, if it does, in fact, exist.
The conversation went like this:
“Lord, I constantly get the sense that You want me to write more, and I feel like I need to get over some internal hump and just jump brave in, and I think writing for 31 days would be a really good way to actually show myself that these books You have stirring in my heart could actually turn into something on paper if I’d be disciplined enough to do it.”
Okay, do over, I think the conversation went more like this. Although all of the above was in my head and heart at the time, so the Lord ‘got it’ without me ‘splainin.
“Lord, I feel like I should do that 31 Days thing. But I don’t know what to write about. So. If You want me to do it, will You please give me a topic?”
[Complete silence, both external and internal.]
I walk away thinking I might be off the hook.
But then. This weekend, the smalls and I travelled along with HH to a wedding a wee ways west of Winston-Salem… I don’t know if it could be classified as the mountainous section of North Carolina, but it was at least foothilly enough to be inspirational for me.
We needed the Belle to have a little morning nap in the hotel room, so HH took the boys out to play and I was there with a sleeping baby, no laundry to fold, and … silence.
So I started reading, which, for me, kind of naturally turns into writing, and then, plain as day, the Lord simply whispered a little theme to my heart, which I am pretty sure if I looked back would be a recurring theme, a bright pink thread, right straight through, from the early days when this blog still had Smiling, Avocado and Bacon in the title. And if you can remember those days, well then, leave a comment because you’re one of eleven.
To test and see if this was actually a 31-dayable topic, I quickly flipped to a clean page, jotted down the numbers 1 – 31, and promptly came up with 22 post ideas in less than 22 minutes. Perhaps even ten. Minutes that is.
And then, my friends, I was cornered. In His glorious goodness, He kept His end of the bargain… so I have to keep mine.
And for the next 31 days, heaven help me, I’ll be writing about exactly that: His glorious goodness.
As I proceed toward the end of a year that might, for all intents and purposes seem not good, (considering the unexpected loss of my Dad this March) and as I work through a soul-challenging season where my plate seems uber-full — and not of bacon or avocado or even a slice of home-baked bread — I am somehow confident that putting this new thing on my plate, where I am actively looking in unexpected places to find ways to say He is so good, there is the significant possibility that everything else will suddenly look a heckuvalot better, or perhaps go strangely dim, which will help me to recognize how small it all is in comparison.
Part of the challenge for me will be not simply saying “He’s good because there’s Jesus and forgiveness and stuff” but actually searching for redemption in the hard, the broken, and even in the just plain ordinary. The other part of the challenge will be the discipline of getting up and writing each morning for the next 31 days.
So, quick question for you. Will you join me in a conversation about His Glorious Goodness over the next 31 days? If you are along for the ride, it will make it so much more meaningful for me. I write because when I do, you write back and tell me how much it has meant to you — and I can’t say thank you enough to you amazing people, far and wide, who have taken the time to say Thank you or That meant something to me.
I’ve had the privilege of hearing many of your stories, and sometimes even meeting some of you, and it has been such a joy, SUCH a gift. You dear readers and social media-sharers and encouraging commenters and (I’m usually blessed and embarrassed at the same time) dear folks who put quote marks around something I’ve said, attach my name to it and pass it on… I write for you, and it is totally His glorious goodness, that He gives good gifts, and then we get to be gifts to each other, because of Him. But maybe that’s a topic for Day 17 or something?
That was a lengthy rabbit trail. Back to the subject, my apologies:
Will you join me on the #31Days adventure? You can follow along by subscribing to my blog or liking With Love, From Here’s page on Facebook or, obviously, just coming right back every day this month.
I hope so. I think it’s for me, but I’m secretly (well I guess it’s not a secret now) pretty sure this is for you, too.
Isn’t that glorious?
xCC
{You can also follow other #31days participants by searching that hashtag at Twitter or visiting the Nester’s Link-Up Page. — I will link to it once it goes live later this evening!}
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