Practically Laura

Tumbleweed Thoughts No. 7: Not Alone

I knew this day was coming, deep down in that unacknowledged place. You know, the place one tries not to visit too much. It also goes by the name Denial.

Yep, I knew the day would come when the last of my stay-at-home friends found a job, but when I got the text this morning, I didn’t allow myself to feel it too deeply.

Instead, I consoled myself with the fact that she may not pass the background check, yet to occur.

I texted back to that effect and had a good laugh because I’m 100% sure my friend has no scary skeletons in her closet.

The only things she stores are a down-to-earth attitude, a listening ear, and a boatload of acceptance. She doesn’t act like I’m outrageous or quirky in a bad way. When I feel insecure, she scoffs at such nonsense with feeling.

In our relationship, she showers me with copious amounts of security.

She’s a gem. I love this woman.

And I knew when she told me a month or so ago that she had applied for this job that she would be perfect for it.

This makes it all the harder.

It makes it harder not to feel sorry for myself, feeling alone. On the other hand, I’m incredibly grateful to God for this cool opportunity for her, and blessing for her family.

Now I’m torn!

I should be. I don’t believe it’s necessary to feel sorry for myself, and I believe that it’s entirely necessary that I’m happy for my friend.

This mirrors the internal struggle between right and wrong that I grapple with a little too often.

And speaking of being on the right side of this struggle, we’ve been studying Romans in our senior girls’ Bible study, and I’m glad that I had my nose down in Romans 6 just yesterday.

I’ve studied Romans before, but some time has passed since, and it’s good to be reminded of all the truths packed into this book of the New Testament. Truths about salvation, faith, hope, and who we really are once we follow Christ.

Moreover, Romans 6 seems a main course. For me, it’s the first bite of cheese enchilada after a few chips with hot sauce. For you, it might be a taste of filet mignon after a necessary salad.

Now that you despair of my nutrition choices, I’ll continue.

As I was reading through it, I re-realized how key this chapter’s concept is to the sanctification process.

Just an aside—Paul repeats his idea several times in different ways. Do you think he thought his readers were dense, and he felt compelled to reword his thoughts in slightly different ways to make his point? Possibly.

However, when I repeat/reword a statement, it’s usually to give the words emphasis because I find them important. Furthermore, I’m excited about whatever it is I’m trying to convey. Maybe that’s how he felt.

Or maybe he felt both.

Anyway, I found a few key points to absorb and apply to my above, um, situation as well as the myriad of others that happen each day (I’ll try to make this brief.).

Once I was brought into relationship with Jesus through the Holy Spirit, my reality is different. I’m something new.

For if we have become united with Him in the likeness of His death, certainly we shall also be in the likeness of His resurrection, knowing this, that our old self was crucified with Him, in order that our body of sin might be done away with, so that we would no longer be slaves to sin; for he who has died is freed from sin. Romans 6:5-6

How awesome is that?! When I became a Christ-follower and all at once, my old nature was dead and buried, and I was gifted with a new nature no longer bound to do wrong. This was a major theme of much of the teaching my childhood pastor David Kuykendall blessed us with over the years, by the way.

My new state makes me bound to Jesus leading to righteousness not sin to death.

…and having been freed from sin, you became slaves of righteousness. Romans 6:18

But now having been freed from sin and enslaved to God, you derive your benefit, resulting in sanctification, and the outcome, eternal life. For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus. Romans 6:22-23

Awesome, right? Now that I’m no longer a slave to wrongdoing, I live and work for Christ, and I begin the ongoing process of becoming more like Jesus (sanctification).

But how will I apply this in my everyday life?

Well, just remembering this reality is a good start for me.

I should continually give every aspect of myself to God for His use.

...and do not go on presenting the members of your body to sin as instruments of unrighteousness; but present yourselves to God as those alive from the dead, and your members as instruments of righteousness to God. 6:13

…so now present your members as slaves to righteousness, resulting in sanctification. 6:19

I must stop and remember that I have a choice when my thinking or actions go wrong. Stop and think and remember, Laura! For me, this has a lot to do with not making excuses but making a mental decision that hands over my attitudes and actions to God. Moreover, I should pray and consult the Bible to help bolster up my being with the truth and keep me on the right path.

So I don’t have to feel alone because I’m not. The Holy Spirit is my constant comfort.

I don’t have to feel sorry for myself because I’ve much for which to be thankful, including a lunch here or there that I’m sure my friend will fit in for me.

I don’t have to continue to wallow in an awful attitude because Jesus made it possible for me to be free once I became His slave.

Once this once again sinks in, I’m ready to fly.

 

Tumbleweed Thoughts No. 6: I Cried

To Timothy, my beloved son: Grace, mercy and peace from God the Father and Christ Jesus our Lord.  I thank God, whom I serve with a clear conscience the way my forefathers did, as I constantly remember you in my prayers night and day, longing to see you, even as I recall your tears, so that I may be filled with joy.  For I am mindful of the sincere faith within you, which first dwelt in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice, and I am sure that it is in you as well. For this reason I remind you to kindle afresh the gift of God which is in you through the laying on of my hands. For God has not given us a spirit of timidity, but of power and love and discipline. 2 Timothy 1:2-7 (NASB)

 

I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned this more than in passing, but I work with the eleventh-grade girls at my church, along with my two incredi-partners Alicia and Tiffany.

When you volunteer to work with the teens, the ministry has a policy that you stay and volunteer with the group through all four years of high school.  I’m sure you can imagine how good the continuity is for this age group—in theory, it allows time for us to learn to trust each other, and so we share deeper relationships.

It’s like a four-year marriage…

…or maybe more like a four-year prison term.

Okay, I feel as if I should mention that I have a little failing called sarcasm.  It crops up every now and then, and well, it just did.  I’m sorry.  Let’s get back on track.

Navigating through this responsibility has been interesting over the last two and a half years, to say the least.  However, God has used it to change me for the better in innumerable ways.

I’m going to be honest now and trust you to give me some understanding.  I’m also trusting that you won't try to fix it (whatever ‘it’ is) or offer me unnecessary comfort.  Remember:  God is teaching me lessons.

Here we go:

The first year, I didn’t feel like anyone in the high school ministry liked me (I’m exaggerating a little.).*  To summarize:  I was offended, and I cried a lot.  Whether or not my feelings were based in reality, God’s biggest lesson for me was to give people the benefit of the doubt, and then to give them patience.  Paranoia and self-focus had to go.  Forbearance and forgiveness were key.  After all, I, myself, love those last two things (Colossians 3:1-17).

During the second year, which I called our ‘Girl Power Year,’ I felt like things were better. We studied Ruth and Esther; then the second half of the year we worked through Lies Young Women Believe by Nancy Leigh DeMoss and Dannah Gresh.  This is a good book, but it tackles some incredibly sensitive issues about life and relationships.  We had a lot of fun…maybe too much at times.  Every now and then, our discussions would become so outrageous that they would get to the inappropriate point.  We would laugh about it, but at times and as their teacher, it did concern me that they seemed more focused on discussing these ‘taboo’ subjects than what the Bible had to say about God-honoring conduct.  It made me worry that I wasn’t being ‘spiritual’ enough around them, and I felt like a few of them were determined to misunderstand me.  I embodied the verb cringe, and I continued to cry every now and then—but not as much as the first year.  God’s lesson for me had to do with not being so hard on myself, and trusting Him to transform them.  So He’s continued to work at cleaning out more insecurity in me, and he’s been working with me on understanding my value in His eyes.  He doesn’t want me to be blind to my missteps, but He also wants me to ask forgiveness and move on.  Here are some key verses I focused on: 1 Peter 2:4-5, 9; Colossians 3:12; 1 John 3:1; Romans 8:31-39; Ephesians 1:3-5.

We’re on our third year, the junior year, and on many occasions it’s felt like a train wreck (Cue the crashing noises.).  I can’t go into detail because things that are private should stay private.  But in discussing our year with more experienced youth leaders, it would seem that a teen’s junior year is often full of more than drama, mainly because it’s such a tough and anxious year for them as they plan for their Future with a capital F.

So…of course I’ve cried.  In fact, I started crying while discussing it with our high school volunteer coordinator, whom by all accounts is a godly, awesome guy.  However, I don’t know him well, and he’s about eight years younger than me.

And he’s, well, a he.  Did I mention I don’t know him well?

It was a tad embarrassing.

I go off on these tangents about the ministry to illustrate that I’ve shed many tears, and not only over this part of my life.

I later had the chance to discuss that phone call on another phone call (lots of phone calls over the past months) with our youth pastor JJ, and he said something that I liked.  I can’t remember it word for word, but he suggested that we should feel free to cry or some such.

What?!

Yep, he said it. Of course, he meant that it’s good for others to see genuine emotion from us that's not harmful.  At least, I think that’s what he meant.** 

This makes sense to me.  After all, there’s a season for everything (Ecclesiastes 3:4, but consider reading the whole chapter).  If God acknowledges that there’s a time to cry; then I should feel okay to cry whether in joy or pain.  Furthermore and in my mind, Paul was not upbraiding Timothy for crying in the top passage. The tone seems to convey the desire to reunite and comfort.  In fact, David wrote that God put David’s tears in a bottle when he was oppressed by his enemies in Psalms 56, implying to me, that God is a loving God that cares for us when we’re overcome by life’s hardships (Psalms 56:8).

In all honesty, I look like death warmed over, but I usually feel better after a good cry.  Furthermore and for me, it’s often more appropriate to acknowledge the deep heartbreak that rains down…

…or the profound well-being that overflows…

…than to walk around like an animated stick.

So if you see me crying, don’t worry.  Just pass me a tissue if you have one.  You don’t have to enter into my feelings.  You don’t have to understand me or I you, but if I have a tissue, I’ll hand you one, too.

Let me know if you need to get something off your chest in confidence—I’ll pray for you.  Otherwise, I’ll leave you be, and you can do the same for me.

And, by the way, I prefer the Puffs with lotion if you have them on hand.

Author’s Notes, etc:

If you have been crying on a prolonged, daily basis, please consider making an appointment to see your doctor.  They can take it from there.

*Let me make this clear—I feel that God has revealed to me that these feelings were all about me.  If you were around me at this time, you should not be tempted to think they had anything to do with you unless God reveals otherwise.  After all and if you were around me in that situation and a Christ-follower, God would’ve been teaching you your own lessons, right?  We’re good.

** I emailed him just to clarify, but I think he’s forgotten to respond (This is an odd comfort because it means I’m not the only one with memory problems.). ;)

Tumbleweed Thoughts No. 5: Unbuttoned

I was recently having dinner with a neighbor.  We’re trying to get to know one another better.  We attend the same church, but she’s over ten years younger than I (I think), and we hardly cross paths in our fairly large congregation.

It’s a shame.  Here we are…living right next to each other, but not growing closer due to the different demands made on us from our varied stages of life.

But we’re trying to bridge the gap—a good thing.

And even though she seems to be handling it with grace…the only problem I foresee for Marianne, my sweet neighbor, may be my natural bent toward candor.  It’s probably pretty surprising, possibly even alarming, for those who don’t know me well.

I mean, I really don’t do small talk (at least not proficiently), and, to be frank, it bores me to tears.

I don’t have much to say about the weather other than something innocuous like, “Man, it’s hot today, huh?”

I was long ago disillusioned by politics, and most media-worthy current events are scary or depressing.

Furthermore and to be frank, I don’t give a flippity-flop Brad and Angie are finally getting married (Okay, okay.  I did take a peek at the ring while standing in line for groceries.  Gee thanks, ‘People’ Magazine.).

So I automatically come to the relational table a little unbuttoned, a circumstance possibly unsettling for any newbies who may encounter me.

Plus my mind tends to wander a bit, and I usually talk in stories not sentences.  In my defense, the stories usually have a point if I can still remember it by the end.  Nonetheless and just to give you an example, you could tell me you cooked rice for dinner which might trigger a memory of the first time I ever had Chinese food with my good friends from Fort Worth…

You get the picture, right?

It used to bother me that I shared a little too open and freely, and I didn’t understand why God made me without the caution or secrecy switch so many seem to use with such adroitness.  I mean, it’s not like I spill everything…but I am pretty up-front and honest.

And I feel, in the past, it’s sometimes made those around me a little uncomfortable…or it’s given them perceived power over me which has made me uncomfortable.  It’s a risk!!

However, over the last few years, I’ve learned to be content with the fact God has gifted me with openness.  I think it’s because He’s also given me a great desire to relate to people on a deeper level.

It’s almost as if it’s something I must do-I’m not sure why exactly, but the good news is I may be beginning to understand it a little more.

For example, I’m part of a small ladies’ Bible study group, and one of my fellow participants said to me very directly one day she wishes she could be more open like I am.  And, I’m not for sure, but I think she’s already begun to be a little more transparent by sharing prayer requests she might’ve normally kept to herself.

So maybe, just maybe, my openness may inspire (if even a little) a few other people to be brave enough to go and talk to those they encounter in an authentic way.

Because how can we even begin to relate to and help each other if we’re hiding all the life lessons gained throughout our years?

How can people know there’s hope for change or improvement if we don’t share our ongoing spiritual growth?

How can people know they should seek help if they think they’re the only ones who’ve been through a difficult, sad or tragic situation?

And, lastly, how can people create genuine friendships if they feel they have to be emotionally ‘alone’ to survive?

All these questions tumble through my mind.

I guess I’ll risk people looking down on me, even if I’m only able to help one person, because they’re the person God designed me to help.

Tumbleweed Thoughts No. 4: One Size Does Not Fit All

 

I have a couple of friends (married to each other and highly intelligent) who work with and conduct research using frogs--Xenopus frogs, in particular.  In fact, one of them has his doctorate in developmental biology.

 

And every year at Christmas I like to send them a little gift with a frog theme because I think I’m funny, however unoriginal.

 

So a few years back I sent them a Hatley mug and a sleepshirt with frogs on both items.  I think the sleepshirt said something like “Hop into bed!” with a giant, leaping frog emblazoned across the front.

 It was pretty darn cute if you ask me.

 

Anyway, a little bit after Christmas, I’m checking my email, and I notice a message from my friend, Lori, the wife of this incredibly bright duo.

Lo and behold, there’s a picture of her husband wearing the sleep shirt I had sent to her.  Yes, the mug was for him.

 

Well, the shirt was one size fits all, and even before she looked at the style or tried it on, she decided there was no way it could be for her…she could tell it would swallow her whole. So she convinced her husband the shirt was for him and the mug was for her. They realized her mistake once he tried it on, but Lori thought it was so funny she took a picture of him in the nightshirt to send to me in a droll effort to let me know how much they appreciated the gifts.

 

I’m laughing like a hyena as I type.

 Not Fitting!

  

 You see, I think of Lori as the Diana to my Anne…or the Anne to my Anne, an obvious Anne of Green Gables reference.  She’s terribly funny and always ready to torment her husband whom she adores.  She would do anything for me or anyone in her life--up to and including taking me to a body art place for some creative ear piercing last time I was visiting in Montreal.

 

And truthfully, she’s more likely the Anne in our duo than I.  I’m constantly and almost subconsciously trying to imitate her.  I affectionately refer to her as my partner-in-crime.

She’s unique.

 

So it didn’t matter what my intentions were when sending the sleep shirt or that Hatley offered it as a one size fits all because, even though it was meant for a woman, it didn’t fit Lori.

Furthermore, despite the fact he could wear it, the style didn’t ‘fit’ her husband.

 

I’m using this little story as an illustration.

Why? It’s because God Himself, the Most Unique, designed each of us to be surprisingly, wondrously and beautifully different.

 

Going past the fingerprints and the ‘cup half-full/half-empty,’ then delving deeper down, upward, inside and back out, we each will have our own special place and time, our own way of viewing the world and our own set of physical limitations with which to work.

Could thinking on this ever get boring? Yes, for maybe half a second after an excruciatingly long day.

 

Common ground is lovely of course.  I like being able to understand those around me.  I sometimes need the mental simplicity of it.  I oftentimes need the fellowship of it.

 

Still, I find it immensely interesting, even satisfying, to know when I peek out the door my eye is drawn to the tiny, blue wildflower nestling unobtrusively under the mossy, twisted oak.  Soon after…when you look out from over my shoulder, your eye is drawn to the clouds puffy and puffing lazily across a sky so gloriously blue it hurts the eyes.

Then I can draw your eye down to the flower, and you can draw my eye up to the clouds.

 

And maybe only then…together…will we even begin to see the whole picture.

***************************

Want your own one size fits all, Hatley sleepshirt?  Click on the link to explore your options.

Hatley "Don't Bug Me" Sleepshirt

 

Tumbleweed Thoughts No. 3: I Can't Pretend...

I hurt my back on January 1^st…and I’ve been in and out of physical therapy ever since.

And in truth, even though physical therapy has been a very good thing--I’m moving right along—I can’t pretend the whole back injury experience has been anything other than…well…a pain in the…(Do I really have to spell it out?).

But this isn’t the only area of my life where I’m unable to pretend…I’m a pretty open book for the most part.

Pretending isn’t a character trait.  I mean, only in my own head am I a good actress.

So…as I’m musing on February, and the various loves in my life (Actually, one just walked in the door.), this phrase becomes especially apropos because I can’t pretend I don’t want to plumb the depths of her existence.

I can’t pretend I don’t wish to be a fly on the wall.

I can’t pretend I don’t desire her to go to bed…and immediately asleep…as soon as we make her turn her lights out at ten.

I can’t pretend I’m not secretly enchanted she sneakily stays awake to read the book I’ve just purchased for her.

I can’t pretend I’m indifferent to whether or not she answers any and all of my questions.

I can’t pretend not to worry.

I can’t pretend I don’t get frustrated.

I can’t pretend not to be fascinated when she rambles on…because it’s pretty rare.

I can’t pretend not to think about her future.

And I can’t pretend I don’t love her with all of my heart.

Because I wouldn’t even try to pretend one of the most essential…most unbelievable…most miraculous…most strange…most lovely…most perplexing…most fear-inducing…most bittersweet things in my life isn't…having a daughter.

Tumbleweed Thoughts No. 2: A Precious and Unaccountable Thing

Friendship is a risky business…especially for someone as transparent as I.

Friendship love (and all love for that matter) is often beyond my reckoning.

How I’m drawn to another seems quite a mystery.

It’s rare I can define what pulls me to friendship.

But it seems as if there are certain people who hold out such welcoming…such automatic sunshine, I’m drawn in without my conscious thought.

Eventually, there will be times of slight discomfort…times of getting to know the real personality…times of getting closer…when it’s revealed they’re not really you…they’re not wired completely like you, but it’s usually okay.  You accept their differences, and they accept your imperfections…you move along…together.

Other people seem riskier from the get go.

They may seem a bit different…there may be a sense of unfamiliarity, or they may seem intimidating.  You may sense they’re holding something back.  They’re a tough nut to crack, as some might say.

You may have to work harder to unravel their mysteries…you may never completely unravel their mysteries, but you eventually learn them better…the comfort and welcome slowly seep in...over time.

In the end, you’ll find yourself meeting on common ground…wondering why they ever made you uncomfortable in the first place.

There is a third group.

They are the bad-first-impression makers.

You may try and hide your feelings…you may be successful at hiding your feelings, but you dislike them from the beginning.

Yet…somehow…you’re unable to shake them.  For whatever reason…in whatever circumstance…they’re part of your life, and it’s beyond your control.

Amazingly…wondrously…one day, these people surprise you.  You have a shared experience (either together or separately), and you truly learn…you shouldn’t let first impressions guide you.  There is more depth than first imagined…and it’s a good kind of depth…not a wrong kind of depth.

You learn to treasure them…to love them.

In all three cases…it’s a precious and unaccountable thing.

Tumbleweed Thoughts

I drove up to our local Pet store today and did a double-take.  Did I just read “Pet Tanning?”  On my second look, I realized it was advertising “Pet Training.”

I don’t have a reading disorder.

I’m just in a hurry.

Please don’t ask why.

Which leads me to my second thought or question:  Will I ever finish…everything?

Does it matter?

By the way, I think it’s okay to say ‘no’ when one is asked to commit to something.  I’m pretty positive we should think it over first…pray about it…I guess it depends on the commitment level.

And maybe we should think about the squirm factor.  You know…your initial reaction.  Does the request initially make you squirm…make you uncomfortable…make you dread…is it outside your comfort zone?

Actually, I think it’s good to push ourselves outside the zone every now and then…to try out something new…something risky.  Otherwise, life would be pretty boring.

But when do you know if you’ve gone too far?  How do you know if you’ve overcommitted or overstepped to the point of perpetual chaos?  How do we know if we’ve just said ‘yes’ to the final thing which will push us over the edge…which will keep us from being able to stop and look around…which will allow no time for daydreaming or hugging or listening? More importantly...are we guarding ourselves from the tunnel vision which blinds us to the immediate need around us?

There’s this tight rope we’re required to walk between being ineffective and falling into a well of out-of-control.

Sometimes my foot slips off on one side or the other, but I know it’s more than a foot when I’m either afraid and all my excuses sound lame in my head…or I’m not sure how I got there in the first place.

I’m still working out the answers…but this is one subject which tumbles around my head.