Obedient in the Do.

Not quite knowing where to start, I begin to hit the keys in the motion of writing until the words begin to flow.  Sometimes that’s how all the best things seem to start…a brave foot forward not knowing the end result.  Giving God something to work with, a tiny seed that can grow into something all together different. So I quietly tap each key until the black curves form words and the clustered words form sentences and the sentences garner thought, imagination, ideas, creativity, inspiration, guidance.  But the most important motion is the decision to Do.  Status quo would be maintained without the Do.  Nothing changes without the Do.  The giving up transferred to giving in…a sweet surrender to knowing I’ll be met halfway as long as a bravely Do.  I don’t have all the answers, I certainly don’t know where each step will lead, but I’ll clearly never know if I never Do.  So,  I carve quiet moments out of my day…sitting in the car with the door cracked open, soft breeze on my toes, waiting for Cole to finish baseball practice.  Open the laptop and begin to hit the keys.  Obedient in the Do.       

Love is Kind

In a deep dig to find the true meaning of Love, I was giddy to see Kindness was next up.  Kindness comes so naturally to me.  A smile to a stranger, a door held open, and paying for the next car in line at Starbucks is light and fluffy and oh so simple.  All surface level stuff, though, I realized upon closer look.  Googling Kindness in Scripture, the first hit revealed Don’t Grow Weary in Doing Good.  Have I ever grown weary in being Kind?  For sure. Often. It’s so simple to offer up kindness towards someone that I connect with, a kindred spirit, or someone to admire. BUT. To those I disagree, conflict with, or who grate my soul, there is no kindness to spare.  Notoriously, I withdraw and withhold kindness from those sorts.  It’s not as if I’m blatantly unkind, more like the switch of interaction is turned off all together. They will not receive a glance, a nod, a smile, an ear.  Ouch. Wanting to save the best of me for the best around me, seemed noble at the time.  While I’m in full disclosure, I’ve have often used the ‘don’t cast your pearls before swine’ in a convenient way to curb interaction…so many missed opportunities to be kind. 

Stretching to fit inside this corrected definition of Love, it seems being Kind should include those I’ve distanced.  I’ve known it down deep all along…it’s just so much easier to be selective.  But there’s a more authentic version of Kindness I’m missing.  My mind is screaming ‘I don’t wanna’… what if they don’t receive my kindness, or what if they don’t respond the way I expect?  There’s nothing that says be kind only to those that receive it well.  Kindness leaves me with a satisfied, content, proud vibe and that’s the medicine I want to ingest daily.  How they respond is not my battle. 

A second Google search on Scripture Kindness revealed it’s something that needs to be put on.  Action words here.  Kindness isn’t always a natural, inborn thing.   It’s something which needs to be picked up, dusted off (especially in the case of those I’ve distanced), and thrown on. My kindness cloak clearly needs an upgrade and extension.  

And I thought Kindness would be the easiest. 

Love is Patient

There’s a huge wall hanging at my front entrance that quotes the popular wedding and funeral scripture from Corinthians 13... Love is Patient, Love is Kind.  Oftentimes, I scurry past juggling schedules, scrubbing baseball pants, coordinating events and meals. It whispers to me Be Still, so today I steady myself and let the words flow.  That scripture echoes in my mind as a list of things to achieve, attributes I wish to master…the true definitions of love.  I see it, I hear it, but I don’t often live it.  So I start at the very beginning…

Love is Patient

I don’t feel very patient. I want what I want, when I want it, often a petulant toddler, minus the tantrum.  Mostly internal, the bulk of the battle is played out in my mind and patience is the first to run thin, which is likely why it tops the list.  Patience for others ranks 7 (a small handful rank 2) while patience for self ranges 2-8 depending on the day or the minute.  Patience implies that all things will improve, hope for things not yet seen.  Patience, then, must require a knowing that someone bigger and better than me has every single detail covered and arranged. So, patience is a surrender not a strive. In moments when I require a dragon’s dose of patience, I have to surrender in equal amounts. In real or contrived crisis, I typically surrender, but quickly grab it back.  I got this, I can figure it out, work harder, take deeper breaths, use better words, get more done, research and dig deep. The grabbing and the doing only creating more flurry, even less patience.  Savoring this realization, it dawns on me that either  I question my definition of God or I question His definition of me. No doubt he sees and supports others, but for me He clearly is busy, I am insignificant, invisible.  He has a world of other issues to resolve…I can help by taking care of business.  Looping back, in order to show love as patience, I’ll require a more accurate definition of who God really is and how he sees me in order to surrender and not immediately reclaim the reigns.   

Drilling Down Deep

I’m easily distracted, equal parts deep thought and shiny objects.  There are times, though, that require a deep drilled down focus.  Tiny little moments that could easily scurry by and otherwise be lost forever. Impromptu dinner with friends, the hibachi grill flames could have easily distracted, loud conversations from other tables, the wine, my own busy brain could have very simply overlooked tiny tears from a quiet soul three seats over.  Sharing her worried heart over an unwell parent, conversations began to split and drift.  One tiny movement, a hand raised to swipe under her eyeglass…something easily overlooked or dismissed instead drilled me down and pulled me in. Deeper questions asked, conversation resumed… desiring the friend to feel heard and loved.

 Closer to home, Maya leaves for college in what will seem like a few short breaths and I’m drilling down… not wanting to loose a single fleeting moment.  Shows are paused, hearing about her day, her friends, discussions at church, sharing favorites…I’m savoring moments. The easy option would be to stay nose deep in my book or phone…attention takes effort. Always looking, always listening, asking that second, third, or fourth question.  Not surface level stuff… I want the meatier variety, stories that created smiles or tears. Yes, I know the cold has overstayed it’s welcome, but I want to hear what brings joy, the cravings of life, what inspires and scares.  Not wanting to miss a single thing, I’m drilling down deep. 

Bravely Step Forward

Today, I spoke words to a camera as part of a recording meant to encourage and uplift women at an upcoming retreat.  Immediately honored, the words easily spilled days in advance.  However, the day I need it most, my computer seizes.  Unable to print my speech, I head to church to meet the videographer…my inner critic loudly proclaiming that I’m no speaker, clearly no writer, completely unworthy, not to mention unorganized.  Squashing it and moving forward, deciding my written speech is not participating, my bullet notes will have to do…but when I glance at my notes, instant blur, nothing made sense.   Test anxiety pummeled me, my mind drew complete blanks. My heart pulsed through my ears. As she continued to set up the camera, I nervously babbled and alternated deep breaths.  Pulling her in the loop, I admit my nervous thoughts and press forward with winging it.  Camera poised, microphone balanced, lighting flattering, bullet notes visible...she pressed record and I exhale.  The deep desire of my heart is helping ladies feel beautiful so I pictured them on the other side of the aperture…right there, inches away.  All nervousness melted and the words spilled easily.  Roughly following the bullet notes retained my focus, but new concepts dropped in, too.  One word flowed into another, sharing lessons, tips and some heart to heart. 

At final words, air kisses sent, I hopped from my perch and signed off.  Worry gone, inner critic quiet, peace reigned. Honored to play one small part in encouraging women towards their best self, I was thankful that the words flowed and that the inner critic was squashed.  For me, it was an affirmation of continuing to bravely step forward regardless of fear. 

Keep it Simple

Months of morning zen time have left me angry and empty.  Maybe I’m not doing it right, maybe it’s just not for me.  For months now, I’ve risen at 5am, giving myself a good 90 minutes of reading, writing, meditating, doing yoga…and within 5 short minutes, I’m frazzled and frustrated again.  Feeling like one important and very crucial part was missing, I added 5 min of worship music…one song.  Looking back, it was like talking to your best friend for a mere 5 minutes.  It’s just impossible.  Nothing good can come of it, there’s simply not enough time to talk, then listen, then talk some more.  I added two songs, but still time felt out of proportion.  The dreaming and staring over magazine cut-out vision boards and aligning my chakra just seemed like worshiping the bark and not the tree.  

So I cleared the decks and went back to basics.  I was working too hard to drawl my own vision into reality, striving, pushing, when all I really need to do is Love God, and Love Others.  Keep it simple.  I still rise early in the morning, but now, it’s a long conversation with a good friend.  Worship music, reading, filling a gratitude journal, praying over family, friends, our schools, our church, my neighbors, our government, then myself.  He’s got this creative way of bending and stretching me until I’m in the right place…it’s a gut feeling, a holy nudge, an unsatisfied itch…He’ll keep at it until I’m adjusted.  I can keep trying to do it my own way, but my version is never as good, as efficient, as fruitful.  I complicate things, when it’s best to keep it simple.

13 Years of Bruises

For 13 years, our bed has sat in the exact same spot.  In a wide loop from bedroom door to bathroom, my shin will inevitably hit the edge of the platform frame once a week.  Why only now have I decided to move the bed? So long it has occupied that spot, I’ve memorized the wide loop in a number of 5 quick steps. My fingers trace the edge in the dark to avoid the thump. It makes absolutely no sense to keep it in that spot, but there it sits, four deep wells of comfortable dips in the carpet and 13 years of shin bruises. Comfort and familiarity shouldn’t be the only reason to avoid change.  So this weekend, Tim will begrudgingly oblige as we shuffle the bed to an alternate wall.  In a chain of events, every other piece of furniture will find new dips on the carpet.

Pulling Cole from the standard routine of high school education is the glaring culprit to this fresh awareness of routine rut. With new eyes on all actions and placements, what else is wasteful, inefficient, pointless?  Constantly looking for a new and alternative way to accomplish the same tired task, smarter ways to do things are waiting to be discovered. Small things, like moving a lamp to a spot where I frequently read, switching stacks of dishes to a smarter cabinet.  What bigger things need adjustment? 

Baby steps…starting with the bed and a future free of shin bruises.