But...but....but...

I am in transition. It makes me weary, overloaded and burdened. I am not a crackerjack with transitions. A "go-with-the-flow" kind of gal, I am not. Therefore, when I find myself fluctuating between two worlds, I become a little controlling. Controlling, like a dictator along the lines of Mussolini, Duvalier and Pinochet. When I don't have responsibilities clearly defined for me, I spin like a mad top wiping out any who come my way. As the normal rhythm of my life becomes a mish mash of syncopated and staccato beats, I tighten my grip around the drummer to force some regularity. Squeezing the drummer is never a good thing. Never. (excuse #1)

Last week, we had some repair work completed on our water system - a well. We have had an above normal problem with our well since we built this house 5 years ago. The entire well pump has been replaced 2 times, along with multiple other issues. This time, when the repairman arrived he said, "You just can't stand not having us here, can you?" Lovely. This time the repairman had to remove the entire length of piping and replace it because it started leaking when we experienced an extreme cold snap in January. Whenever this type of repair gets made, it wrecks havoc on our water for the next 5 days or so. The result of which is bright orange colored, staining water. The orange derives from the rust and other mineral deposits that have become dislodged by the removal of the pipes and the "required by law" massive dumping of chlorine in the system. Every toilet, sink, tub becomes covered in the orange slime. I spend every day trying to prevent further staining of anything water touches. But, that was last week. (excuse #2)

I have reflected and pondered much on what is preventing me from taking that "next step" with my life. Having something I have written be published, losing weight, working out, finding a place where I can serve others, indecisiveness on many issues, for example. One conclusion is that I allow issues like the above (orange water) to prevent me from moving forward. Time management has ever been a great talent of mine. Yet, we all know we spend time on what we find important, right? (excuse #3)

Now that I think about it, there is always some wall, imagined or real, although I would venture to say mostly imagined, that blocks me from achieving much of anything significant. For example, I feed my kids because they would starve if I didn't. I accomplish that which is necessary, a requirement, something someone else depends on me doing. Am I doing anything that isn't required of me by others? (excuse #4)

I might be stagnant because it is comfortable in the still waters of the safe harbor. Is it fear that prevents me from hoisting the anchor and sailing out to the unknown? This whole writing thing, submitting articles, it takes some effort to figure out where and how. Why does my motivation stop after I click the "publish post" button on my blog? (excuse #5)

I am beginning to believe that I need to sacrifice something in order to achieve something beyond everyday survival. Sacrifice, give-up...that hour in the morning where I lounge around, drink coffee, sift through facebook, blog reading lists. The time I spend chatting with other moms during the kids' swim practice. The two chocolate turtles that I scarfed down right before I fell asleep. Those are fairly easy and I haven't made one step in that direction. What about the things that have resided so long and deeply in my clinched fist that they have grafted themselves into the deepest lines of my palms. I don't think I can complain, whine, or even contemplate inwardly about my heart's discontent if I am not taking a scalpel to remove them. (excuse #6)

Which leads me to my final conclusion, brought to the light through my bible study. My actions reflect a complacency that has become an idol to me. An idol that prevents me from a lot, but most importantly prevents me from going where God wants me to go and who God wants me to be. Here is where it gets a bit painful...I worship the status quo and I worship the time I spend COMPLAINING ABOUT IT. My treasure is always coming up with excuses as to why I have unrealized dreams. I have become the master of it. I have allowed excuses to dominate my life. I have allowed the laziness and lounging of my mind to prevent me from "doing." The excuses, however well-crafted and circumstantially supported at the time, are really lies and seriously..I am very, very good at them.

I begin a new chapter in my study today...no more excuses.

If that weren't enough...here is a passage from my study:

Even when you have these grandiose plans, spiritual plans nonetheless, things can unexpectedly turn. I suppose that's why I'm writing all this in regard to this week's homework, because there will alwyas be a million nagging tugs on our time and attention, and somewhere in the middle of all the tugging it is essential we build a fortress wherein only God, His words, and our heart exist together for a time. It rarely happens accidently.

Embracing Me

Inviting someone into your home for the first time is stressful. Right or wrong, our little nest tells others about us whether in its decor, upkeep, or income level. You open your home to someone who previously only knew the "prepared for the world" you, but there is not much you can hide from someone when they are in your home. You open the front door wide open for some one to know the real you and all that goes with it - anxiety, judgments, and internal criticism.

A friend came over to my house yesterday. It was her first visit at my home. As we walked through it, I found myself doing my usual "tour guide script." The same type of chatting I have done whenever anyone comes to my house. In fact, I could tape myself and play it whenever fresh faces enter my domicile because I have repeated it over and over since we moved into it nearly 5 years ago. It is a script riddled with justifications for its contents, as in, "Oh, that mirror, I got that at Costco." My own self-defined shortcomings, as in, "Oh, this room, it is the one that I just can't make work." My own plans for improvements as in, "We have long-range plans to rework the entire laundry room area as it is like a closet where you are beaten by coats and backpacks just to get out the door." And, I usually throw into the mix these carefully selected phrases, "Well, you know it is always a work in progress," or, "You can't take it with you when you die, " or, "We have been blessed. I certainly don't feel deserving of it." Lest anyone think that I spent any money in building or furnishing my house, take any pride in the home I have created, or believe that I actually enjoy my house. Deep down, it would destroy me if I discovered anyone left my house feeling as if my life were defined by material things. Or, if I ever came across with an air of snobbery, unaware of how blessed and appreciative I truly am.

So, after we completed the obligatory tour, my friend and I sat down to talk about my writing project. Interestingly, I could not receive any compliments about my writing. Even in talking about this book project, I was nearly apologetic.

I am not a writer. I mean, history does not support this notion of being defined as a writer. I was not a keeper of volumes of journals throughout my life. A few scattered here and there, but they are mostly filled with teenage angst and my first experiences with puppy love. I have only taken one journalism course and changed majors because I didn't find any pleasure in it. I also did not enjoy the class on journalistic ethics, either, as everything is grey to me - not black and white. I had two papers in college on which were written, "You might want to get some tutoring at the Writing Center." I have never had a job where writing was the main objective. Up until now, I haven't had the time to read a pamphlet, let alone write anything. This whole writing thing is a bit of a shock to me. And yet, it is the most pleasurable outlet I have at the moment.

To admit I am even a writer means that I have to admit that I am good at writing. Admitting that I am "good" or "excel" at anything is admitting that there is something good or excellent within me. And, this is something that I have believed, falsely I might add, is not true. I have believed that I have no part, no role in anything good in my life. Quite similar to what I wrote about my house, I don't want anyone to think that I believe that I am a great writer, blessed with a eloquent vocabulary with professional editing or grammar skills (clearly the latter is NOT the case). Additionally, I am wary of judgments regarding the time spent and effort put forth in my writing. And, I don't want you to think that I might take any pride in the posts I have crafted, or believe that I actually enjoy my writing and its resulting reactions.

On the flip side, denying or dismissing this means that I am saying no to the gifts that God has given me. I am beginning to understand that humility does not mean complete dismissal of self. It means recognizing that God has given me this talent or gift and I have chosen to act upon it. Therefore, I can give God the full credit for the awakening inside of me. Yet, I can have confidence and satisfaction, and gosh do I even say this word - pride - in my choice, knowing that I am walking down the path chosen for me. At least I think I am. (Doubt, always doubt)

A quote was passed to me and I feel very compelled to share it:

“It is in the quiet crucible of our personal private sufferings
that our noblest dreams are born and Gods greatest gifts are given,
and often given in compensation for what we’ve been through.”

- Wintley Phipps

I think there will be further explanation of how timely, relevant and accurate this quote is in the book. But for now, I will leave you to ponder on it, your gifts and your noblest dreams. Oh, and while you are at it, click here to complete my questionnaire. I need you!

Set the World on Fire

Second post for today, but I just couldn't help myself.

When I opened up my blog several months ago, I knew that I might be setting myself up for negativity, or worse, apathy. However, upon receiving some encouragement, I decided to actually solicit my friends to glance over it. I had hoped to get some dialogue going and well, that hasn't happened too much. On the flip side, what has happened, much to my utter surprise, has been well, cry-inducing, speechless rendering, stun creating...compliments. Seriously, people, I am so completely undeserving, but derive much pleasure in the fact that you get any amount of enjoyment out of reading my blather!

Everyone has a little dream that they keep a candle burning for. I can't say I have always wanted to be a writer. Growing up I have kept journals (now those are hilarious), but only in the last three or four years, has it become a flame in my heart. I just, at this moment, realized the beginning in all of this for me. Wow. It was Ansley. It was those email updates I kept going for three years about her condition and ultimately her death. Just another lasting mark on my life that she made. Ok, I am crying now. I love her.

This morning, I heard a song on a new CD I bought recently. I had heard the song on the radio but never really listened to the lyrics. It is a great song and despite what even I perceive as a bit cheesy, I will post the lyrics and a link to hear the song.

"Set the World On Fire" by Britt Nicole.

I wanna set the world on fire
Until it`s burning bright for You
It`s everything that I desire
Can I be the one You use?

I, I am small but
You, You are big enough
I, I am weak but
You, You are strong enough to
Take my dreams
Come and give them wings
Lord with You
There`s nothing I can not do
Nothing I cannot do

I wanna feed the hungry children
And reach across the farthest land
And tell the broken there is healing
And mercy in the Father`s hands

My hands my feet
My everything
My life, my love
Lord, use me

I wanna set the world on fire
I wanna set the world on fire, yeah

I`m gonna set the world on fire
Set the world on fire

I hesitate to even write about this. My thoughts are - I am not a writer, what if I am humiliated, embarrassed by this post next year when I have failed, who do I think I am, do I have the nerve to actually write this down for the world to read?, is this really just pride?, what about the reaction of others who are much better writers, just who do I think I am? Basically, a lot of doubt. But here I go...into the DEEP. Please hang on with me, ok?

My prayer is that if this is God's will for me, that He will continue to keep this flame burning, that He will open doors to those that need to hear, that I may have the support from those near me, that my words will be authentic and real about a journey with Him - the triumphs, the failures, the mountain tops and the desert wanderings, and even the every day. I want to be used to His glory, an accurate estimation of who He is, not me, but Him. May you find inspiration in this song today - each one of us can set it on fire for Him...only because of Him.