Ink Idol

the flitting of a hummingbird.

the busyness of a hamster on a wheel.

the good intentions of any well-meaning person.

That’s me right now. And I feel guilty.

My to-do list and day-minder are filled to the brim with things to accomplish, places to be, dates to remember, goals to meet.

And it makes me feel satisfied that I have things to fill my day with. I feel fulfilled when I can check things off of my list.

But there is an irony, a twist.

I idolize my list. And when we idolize something, we look for it to fill a part of us that only God can fill.

And the irony is that most of the things that I am writing on my to-do list seem to get bumped to the next day, and the next, and the next. All of the penned-in reminders that made me nod in satisfaction become jeering testaments of what I failed to do that day.

Why did I fail to do them? Because I sat down and watched a TV show or two or five. Because I scrolled through Facebook for 30+ minutes several times a day, hoping to catch some exciting news, something to disapprove of, something to repost or share or be entertained by. Because I spent an hour getting ready for the day, primping and puttering around the house. Because I put my agenda and my feelings before a higher, more noble, more self-giving item on the list. Because I slept in.

I make a plan for the day. It is unchangeable. If you try to change it, I will get grumpy. If I change it, it’s obviously in my own best interest and therefore unquestionably in need of the change. Don’t judge. It’s my agenda, after all. Sniff.

And so I have my day’s plan, I whittle away my time irresponsibly and selfishly, I motivate myself to go to work by thinking about how quickly it will pass, and I ensure that everything that I deem important is done. My errands, my workout, my meals, my relaxation time, my leisure activities. Often times, I will fill my quota on the “do good” portion of my list and call it good for the week. Then on to more me-stuff [the actual important stuff, obviously].

And at the end of the day, I walk in the door from work and I am instantly grumpy. Truly, from the moment I woke up, I started counting the hours until I can come home and relax and do what I want. Which ends up being more me-stuff [selfish, gluttonous, non-prioritized, ME-stuff]. Make dinner? Instantly grumpy. Make it yourself. Can’t you help? I wish you would have started part of dinner. Grumble, green monster, gripe. Sink full of dishes. Grr. Unmade bed. Grrrr. Empty cat bowls. Grrrrr. Living room strewn with papers. GRRRRR!

When really, had I been productive and prioritizing earlier in the day or the previous day; had I completed my errands responsibly and without idolizing them; had I looked forward to work as a place to give of myself and “work as unto the Lord”; had I had an attitude of constant compassion and sincerity toward those God put in my life; had I done those things, I would be coming home with a sense of satisfaction from a day that honored God and would set to work cheerfully ministering to my husband and tending my home. And at the very end of the day, I could put my feet up, chat with my husband, enjoy a  TV show, catch up with the what’s-what on Facebook, and give myself a pedicure.

Proverbs 31 describes a woman who I guarantee is the first one up and the last one to bed. She is constantly busy. Yet I can also guarantee that she works because she enjoys the work she is called to do, not because it is a fulfilling idol in her life.

She is confident, wise, physically strong, loving, tender, caring, trustworthy, efficient, compassionate, talented. She does not sloth around doing the bare minimum.

She doesn’t get grumpy over her inner-recognition of where she has slacked off [because she hasn’t slacked off]. She has a great relationship with her family. I doubt she got grumpy. She would have no reason to. She could look at her day and be satisfied that she gave of her physical strength, mental strength, and emotional strength. She saw the value in giving of herself. And she knew how to prioritize to give the most of herself to benefit everyone, herself included.

You all know it: nothing is wrong with relaxing with a good show, catching up via web or in person, hitting the gym for a workout, taking time to pamper yourself.

The point where it gets squirrely is when the agenda takes precedence over not just the broadly-stated “your life”, but, more pointedly, your mind and emotions. When your list becomes the most important things in your mind and to your emotion feel-good/feel-bad ‘tudes, then your decision-making for prioritization will often be very you-centered. When that happens, anything outside of your list [the “less important, less me-stuff stuff”] will be pushed to the next day, and the next, and the next, and…

And you’ll be unhappy. You’ll be gorging yourself with the feast of empty me-stuff, and you’ll feel disgusting when God gives you a gourmet opportunity to give of yourself to someone else.

Imma haveta fine tune this philosophy, this truth. I’m not sure [at all] how I am going to learn to do this.

My last post was on putting only honest things into the construction of the mold of my life. Putting things in that I truly wanted in there. This is one of those things.

I’m pretty sure this is going to take me a bit of time to practice and practice and practice until I have weeded out the destructive practices I have established in my hamster wheel.

My sister-in-law, Anna, recently shared this:

I cannot hear that still small voice if my inward parts are so consumed with my own thoughts, agenda, and outside influences. I have been practicing quietness even in the busyness. What a freeing thing to have busy hands and busy days, but a quiet spirit. I am so thankful and it is much better than an anxious, worn-out heart. Abiding in Him is where our momentary strength comes, and it is how we make wise choices in the disruptive moments of the day. 

To have busy hands and busy days, but a quiet spirit. Elisabeth Elliot was a champion, it seemed, of keeping a quiet heart. It is my prayer and my intent to also become a woman of busy hands and a quiet spirit.

Be encouraged. All things are possible with Christ. 

A whispered question

“What do you want your life to be?”

For the first time, I acknowledged the question. It was not the first time it had been whispered through my mind. But suddenly, today, I heard the whisper clearly.

As I turned my car onto the adjacent road to head home from nannying, my eyes caught sight of a middle-aged man whom I knew had a family and a few small children. In the brief moments of watching him as my car drove past, I noted the big, beautiful, American-Dream-ish house, his impressive front yard of which he was mowing and emitting a fresh-cut grass smell, and him, riding on his lawnmower with his slightly overweight belly bouncing along in accordance to the ground’s unevenness.

It was then that I heard the question.

“What do you want your life to be?”

Let me clarify: It’s not that I had not heard this question never-ever before. It’s that for the first time, I actually heard it. [Allow me a rough comparison. Compare it to a female who has headphones on, plugged into and locked in on the drama unfolding in the most recent episode of Downton Abbey. Any comments, questions, or other verbal utterances are in the background as a comfortable buzz. That is, until someone says, “Michael Buble is at the door, and he said he wants to serenade you over a candlelit dinner.” Suddenly, that is heard.]

The question that had been humming in my head for months, even years, was suddenly running across my mind’s eye as if type-written.

As I watched this paunchy, middle-aged stranger groom his lawn in front of his American Dream house, I recognized that what I saw through my car windows spurred this question to the front of my mind.

Everything a person observes will prompt feelings of agreement, disagreement, or apathy. I can't see that it is anything but normal to either find pleasure, discomfort, or indifference towards things that enter our lives. It is a normal response to things we come in contact with.

What I saw was bringing out those feelings. Pleasure: the smell of fresh cut grass, the idea of being settled and having a family. Discomfort: the image of excess and overweight. Apathy: the American Dream house.

I was processing. Filtering. Choosing. Deciding. Forming.

“What do you want your life to be?”

Don’t let this one slip right past your brain: Life is made up of choices.

Well? Isn’t it?

I choose what I form my life to be. I can choose to find joy in small things like fresh cut grass or holding my husband’s hand; in rich things like walking down memory lane with my sister or having a quiet time in the morning to close my eyes and intimately share and talk to and hear from my awe-inspiring God; in stretching times of character growth or disagreements with my husband or when finances make me swallow hard. I can choose joy over a hurried busyness that produces irritation. I can choose peace over an oppressive worry. I can choose to love over a quick hurtful anger or slow begrudging hatred.

I choose.

But I am not the only participant in this process.

“What do you want your life to be?”

As I drove home, I turned the question over in my head. How long had this been whispered at me? My mind took me back to Colorado, to college, to the camps and places I worked at, to high school, to classes, places, times, even to middle school. It had been whispered in hallways, soccer fields, sleepovers, Sunday morning church service, date nights, GEN ED classes, lunchrooms, football games, Friday nights spent alone in my dorm room, Tuesday night square dance, day trips on days off, bus rides, quiet times to myself in the hay loft, people watching sprees at the mall, outings with friends.

Like a wave, the emotions and pictures of memories past flooded through my mind’s eye. I could see them all. In every frame, I felt the sense of searching. In some I was laughing and smiling. In others I was contemplative or silent. In others I was crying, lost and alone and sad. In all of them, I was searching, and the question was present.

“What do you want your life to be?”

I have always had friends, really great ones. Sweet, godly, creative, wonderful friends. But in all of the memories that went through my mind, I saw that I was observing, mimicking, copying, mirroring, modeling. Choosing. I was picking what I liked and replicating those traits, those fashions and styles, those opinions.

”What do you want YOUR life to be?”

Ohhh.

I was at a red light and nodded my head.

I see.

I sighed and creased my forehead slightly in a frown as I thought about what that emphasized word was asking anew.

Then it changed again.

“WHAT do you want your life to be?”

The light turned green, and I turned with traffic.

So I choose, then, what exactly I want my own life to be. But isn’t that what I had been doing by observing and imitating other people? Filtering for myself what I liked and didn’t? It’s not that observing and imitating those around me was a bad thing. In fact, I’m certain that everything I imitated was because it appealed to me in some way. I certainly didn’t imitate anything I didn’t like. I think. But the point is that I have been searching, even now, for something which I can claim as my own, something self-determined.

It seemed as though I was at a pinnacle point, a point where I had to own me. The only other option, it seemed, was to continue the rest of my life living a replication of what I saw around me. An American Dream chameleon that changed to survive, to fit it, to go unperturbed. A clone. A product.

Fashion. Lifestyle. Personality. Hobbies. Tastes. Recreation. Location. Involvement.

Character.

From the time of self-discovery that seems to emerge around middle school, through high school, through college, through the first years of marriage – it seems as though these have been the vivid times of trying to discover who I am.

Oh no, you’re thinking, not that age-old ism.

But do you know who you are? Or are you only defining yourself by what everyone around you likes?

What do YOU like?

I parked the new [pre-owned] car in front of our brick apartment building. Dan is gone for a few days. JP greeted me at the door with a sleepy meow and followed me around with slowly blinking eyes until I picked him up and scratched him under his chin. After heating up a bowl of leftover homemade chicken noodle soup, I grabbed a blanket and sat on our comfy refurbished couch to eat. I liked this, I knew. My home.

Again, the question.

“What do you want your life to be?”

Well, I thought, I absolutely want it to be what God wants.

So, then, the answer to the question may lie in that.

God desires me to have life abundant, dependence on him, assurance of his love, a personal relationship with Him, actions that share his love to the world, and character growth that reflects who He is.

He created me with a unique preference for certain colors, cuts, and styles; an athleticism accompanied by a good dose of competitive drive; a gift for organization; a cheerful, easy-going personality and a ready smile; a heart that has compassion for those that are wronged; a passion for truth. So many unique Emily-tailored things.

“What do you want your life to be?”

Now I am sitting here with my laptop balanced on my knees, typing, deciding.

Why did I hear the question today? Why is today the pinnacle of the past 20+ years of discovering who I am?

I don’t know. And I am sure that I won’t be able to come up with an exhaustive list of who I am and what I like and what I am precisely meant to be.

 I hesitate to write anything down right now that I don’t know for certain is a definite thing that I like, that is an original me-decided piece of me. But I can say with absolute certainty these things.

I am a child of God. I am loved with a priceless incomprehensible love by God, who knows me intimately. My life is His, and my faith and trust in His Truth will not be shaken.

I like nautical colors – dark navy blue, crisp white, stately red.

I like volleyball, very much.

My favorite color is green. Dark green, somewhere between forest and emerald.

I like classy, feminine clothing choices. Clean lines, delicate touches. Also, comfort.

That is all I know right now, off the top of my head. I don’t know what kind of house I want to live in, or where. I don’t know what wine is my absolute favorite to have with a special meal. I don’t even know how many children I want to have. I’m not even sure how much I even care about the things that I have opinions on regarding style, taste, lifestyle, location, and hobbies. But this is a start. And that’s what matters to me right now. I want this to be a point of moving forward, choosing and formulating for myself, in my mind, who I am as an adult, as a woman, as a child of God.

Mmm. And those are only hitting a very shallow part of the point of this question. I’ve not mentioned the most important thing that is so very weighty on my heart.

Character.

The character to finish a project. To reach a goal. To be consistent in a routine. To have self-control in responses and reactions. To nurture the mind and heart to continue their growth. To grow in selflessness and love. To manage time.

I desire all of these things.

This is what I want my life to be.

In discovering what I like and discovering who I want to be, I have created the mold I want to conform myself [my life] to be.

I am encouraged. I can do this. I can discover what I’ve been seeking for years. God desires this for me. And if God is for me, who can be against me? Not even me and my self-doubts.

Why did I hear this question today?

I’m not sure.

But I did.

And perhaps today is the day when God knew I would have a night alone with no distractions to sit down and discover what I want my life to be.

Take heart. You can too. God is for you and wants you to discover who He has specially created you to be.

And hopefully, the question "What do you want your life to be" can be found in the answer your get from "What does God want your life to be."

xoxo Em