At three o'clock this morning the Lord woke me. "Come away with me," He whispered. And, so I did. I climbed from my bed, closed the bedroom door so not to disturb my husband, and moved out to the front room. Far into our conversation and an hour later some truth splashed to the surface of my heart and the Holy Spirit compelled me to share it with you.
Where do I begin? What words do I pen first to make any sense of any of this? I believe I will start with the thought that I have not salivated enough over the love letters that Jesus gave to me. I’ve not been hungry enough for His affection and His direction. He never leaves me, nor does He forget me. It is I who does the glancing away and the tasting of the world’s fruits.
For as long as I can remember I have firstly desired what God has wanted for my life, sometimes painfully so. There is great reward in some types of sacrifice. A search for holiness and to please the Maker is one such type of sacrifice. I do not regret this desire.
However, in the journey, in the process of cutting away dead weight and extra baggage I believe I have also cut out some beneficial things in my life, such as friendships and community. If a relationship did not fit neatly enough into my desired world, if it took more effort than I felt I wanted to expend or caused too much pain, I simply cut it out. Just like that.
I've learned my lesson and wish to acknowledge that my 20/20 hindsight has cleared some obscure things up for me. I need you and you need me, for starters.
While it’s true that there are other things I might blame for my lack of friends, opportunity, and fulfillment, and have over my lifetime, if I really want to be honest, and I do, I must place my lack of attention to life’s Manual at the top of the list.
I can blame the deficiency of Bible studies, barbecues, and fire pit times on the lack of carpet in the house and the pervasive signs of a dog, to name two scapegoats, but add to it the fact that I have no money to correct this issue and that the children would be heartbroken if another home was found for the dog and you can see a common dilemma.
We say, “One of these days, we will get new carpet.” “One of these days we will have a Bible study.” When will one of these days come and why do the two need to go hand in hand? Why do we have to wait for the dog to be gone? Why should we allow ourselves to be put on hold like that? I have waited for years now and haven’t seen “one of these days” because of any number of life’s little surprises. That could be said for many contemplative endeavors in my walk on this planet.
Truly, it isn’t that I couldn’t afford new carpet if I wanted it badly enough. There are things I could sell or there are ways to piece squares together. Basically, “where there is a will there is a way.” If I wanted it badly enough, the Lord would supply it as He always has. There must be something else that stands between me and my higher dreams.
I’m inclined to believe that we will have to overlook the lack of carpet and the dog and just invite people over. Maybe in the movement forward we will find the carpet was just waiting to be dropped into our laps. Maybe the dog will mature and settle down. Perhaps it is all about the faith walk and looking back it will become clearer.
Granted, there are probably a lot more people out there who have our issue than who don’t, so when I consider the alternative of inviting no one over, I am left with the realization that I am a prideful and selfish person. There is really no way around it. To stay in this state of thought will lead me to a lonely and pitiful end to my life.
Let’s be kind and give me some leeway, for to say that my motives are completely prideful and selfish could be a slight distortion of the truth. Let’s take a look at my humanness for a moment before we make any rash decisions.
"It’s for the good of others that I keep them out of my house." Surely, I can make my brain believe that I’m only thinking of what the neighbors would have to endure on the other side of the threshold. I am doing others a favor to not invite them over. After all, why should they find out how I really live? They wouldn’t look at me the same once they stepped inside my door and where would that leave me? Then all of my efforts to have friends and to share Jesus and to be an encouragement would end before it really started.
“Maybe it’s better to wait for new carpet,” I tell myself. I’ve met people that although at first glance they appeared to be good friend stalk, I found they openly judged me but knew nothing about me. “Why add fuel to their fire?” flashes through my mind.
Ah, then if in my psycho-babble my thoughts are of what would become of me and not of what would become of my friends, let me openly recognize the deeper truth. This means that my motives are questionable at best. We could be onto something here. You see, it helps to process things together. It is written, “There is wisdom in many counselors.” You haven’t even said a word and already you’ve helped me to see myself from a different angle. Not necessarily a preferred angle, but a wise and honest angle. Yes, I feel the pain of healing and know that this is healthy and right.
I do plan to get new carpet and invite people over, but this is a "which came first, the chicken or the egg?" debate.
I stand at the cliff more days than not with a mental list of people that I would like to invite over for tea or a barbecue or a bonfire. You may just be on it. Sorry for the lack of communication up to this point. But before the invitation pours from my mouth or is placed in the mail my personal checklist of what I lack jumps in front of my eyes, my head drops toward the ground. The cliff is too high and the damage too great if I fall. My shoulders dip low along with my self-esteem and I slink away from that cliff unsatisfied and quite sad.
What will it be like to soar from that cliff with confidence and where will it take me once I find the courage to let my feet leave the ground? Where is that girl that I dream to be? She’s right there in the mirror when I stop to look deep enough. She’s in my dreams at night, sometimes even in the light of day, but not so anyone else would notice.
I blame no one but me. The same words used in the Garden of Eden zip through my brain, just as I am convinced they do through yours occasionally. “Did God really say…?” Why should Satan change tactics when he has the most effective one-liner ever? "Did God really say that He would lift you up?" "Did God really say that you would soar on wings like eagles?"
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