Saturday, September 3, 2011

Housekeeping

Tonight I am looking around the house and feel completely overwhelmed and disappointed. This day feel like a fail. Dishes half-started, completely unfinished. Toys strewn around, projects for the day never touched. Clutter still littering countertops, end tables, and most other flat surfaces. Laundry has been washed, dried, and folded - and is creating an attractive leaning tower on top of the bench in our bedroom. Discussions I wanted to have, phone calls I wanted to make, and matters I wanted to settle have gone undone.

I have spend most of the day pouting as I watched one plan after another unravel. Add to that that I have not felt in the best shape and just wanted some downtime today (which I did not get much of at all), and I really had some nasty moments of selfishness, eye rolling, and heavy sighs. You know what I mean.

More important than the disarray of my home, I am realizing the state of my heart is desperate. I have bitterness, resentment and discontent scattered on the shelves of my heart. The mess in my home does not even begin to reflect the mess inside. So instead of spending time cleaning, tidying, and doing tonight, I think I will sit. I will pray. I will ask forgiveness. And tomorrow will grant a new space to practice contentment, love, and obedience.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Speck

Over my heart hovers a lens
Backwards over my heart.
This makes the big things
Smaller
And the littlest ones
So tiny now.

You see,
It hurts.
To crane my neck and look back
Back to my heart.
And I prefer it this way
So much easier,
Comfortable
Looking at yours.

Yours is darker, bigger
Nasty
Putrid.
My lens tells me
I am better,
Not-quite-so-nasty,
Certainly a bit more fragrant.

Now if you will just listen, I can fix you
I can help you be good like me.

Sunday, March 6, 2011

Redemption & Rhymes with Pill

I once had a student whose name rhymed with pill. That is easy to remember because there were more than a few days where I would rather swallow a horse-sized one than deal with the conflicts he brought to my classroom. The funny thing about Rhymes with Pill was that he was very smart (though spacey) and when asked, he could recite the classroom rules and expectations word for word. (Whether or not he followed those rules to the letter is another story for another time.) However, he rarely paid attention to the specific thing I was asking the class to do at a particular time. He figured that if he worked within the general guidelines of the basic rules of the class that he could ignore my spoken directions and he would be fine. Rhymes with Pill figured he could set his own guidelines when it came to specifics. This caused a lot of problems, particularly if the routine varied slightly from one day to the next, or if I introduced something new. Despite his confidence that he could figure everything out, he instead would often find himself doing the exact opposite of what the rest of the class was doing.

He did not know (nor was he capable of knowing) what the best decision would be for the entire class. He was not aware of particular requests or decisions made by other teachers, staff or myself. Yet day in and day out, he would do his own thing. Repeated conversations, consultations, and disciplines did not seem to make a difference. For whatever reason, he was wired to do his own thing. It has taken me over a year to realize this, but I am not unlike my funny student, Rhymes with Pill.

I know my black and white rules. The ten commandments, the greatest commandment, the marriage vows. I try my best to follow them. But I know that at the heart of things, it is not what my faith is about. Sometimes I am thoroughly confused, however. What am I supposed to do in these situations that are not solved in a Sunday School answer way? What do I do when things are just "fine." What do I do when there is this small, but loud and aching piece that knows, knows with great confidence, that there is MORE. There is more than what I am doing. I try to read a book for answers or talk to a wise friends. That may help for a while. But really, I need directions that are specific. I need clarity and meaning for me, for now.

I have, for a long, long time, let myself believe that everything is okay because I follow rules. Yet I have failed in one way. I have not listened. It is not one of the 10 commandments. "Thou shalt listen." It is just a given. When I break one of the Black & Whites, I far too often fill my own ears with the ringing of my own apologies, my weeping and gnashing of teeth. I am so busy making myself feel fully sorrowful, that I miss a chance to listen. My regret is not sincere, but it is pronounced, and pronounced loudly. Yet there is no change. Maybe repentance is not sobbing pleas, maybe it is quiet. Maybe it is listening.

Perhaps all I need to do is stop talking. Perhaps all I need to do is stop.

Saturday, March 5, 2011

Discipleship

To love is to obey. To care is to try.

I fail frequently, but I want to make efforts even more often.

Luke 14:28-33
"For which of you, desiring to build a tower, does not first sit down and count the cost, whether he has enough to complete it? Otherwise, when he has laid a foundation and is not able to finish, all who see it begin to mock him, saying, 'This man began to build and was not able to finish.' Or what kind, going out to encounter another kind in war will not sit down first and deliberate whether he is able with ten thousand to meet him who comes against him with twenty thousand? And if not, while the other is yet a great way off, he sends a delegation and asks for terms of peace. So therefore, any one of you who does not renounce all that he has cannot be my disciple."

Do. Not. Quit. My testimony depends on it.