Thursday, July 22, 2010

Daily 5 - Day 342

Today's Daily 5:
  1. I wrote my stats midterm today, and I think it went really well.  I was quite nervous about this one, but definitely felt God's hand on me as I wrote the exam, bringing clarity of thought and understanding.  I feel like it sounds weird to say that, but absolutely the only way I can explain the fact that this crazy math stuff is making some sort of sense to me is God's hand.
  2. Thankful for friends who speak truth, even when I really don't want to hear it.
  3. Thankful for late night conversations sitting in cars, and honest sharing
  4. Thankful for laughter
  5. the giggles of a baby... I love when I can elicit that response
  6. knowing I have friends who care about how my week is going
  7. Rob Bell's "The Gods Aren't Angry" DVD, and particularly the line "You don't have to live like this."
  8. brownies at house church.  I hadn't had chocolate today, and brownies while watching Rob Bell was a great way to round out the evening
  9. thankful for my own bed, even when I don't love the location it's in at the moment
  10. thankful for words stirring and thoughts rumbling...

Eating My Words

The experience of writing blog posts on the weekend and scheduling them to appear through the week is turning out to be an illuminating one.

Mostly because I have this tendency to forget what I've scheduled for the day, and, when I go back and check, I'm tending to find myself rather deeply convicted by own words.  That, or needing to just eat them because the conviction is huge.

Today is one of those days.

When I wrote earlier in the week about wrestling with pigs (and scheduled the post to go live this morning), it was a revelation for my heart.  Turns out it was one that's going to take a bit more work.

I spent most of the day wrestling with my own internal pigs.  And getting dirty.

I don't recommend it.

I'm probably still doing it.  And I'm working on that.

Anger and fear and exhaustion among other things easy pigs to engage.

I'm struck over and over again by choices.

By the reality that I get to choose.

And I struggle with that reality of choice.

Choosing to forgive.  Choosing to love.  Choosing to be joyful.

Because I can make those choices, but they seem intangible.  And sometimes I make the choice and it doesn't seem to matter.  Or I make the choice and have to make it again 2 minutes later, and again a minute after that.

And that reality makes me crazy.  Because deep down, even though I'm totally an "embrace the mystery" kind of gal, I really just like some things to black and white.  And these kind of choices and their affects are so grey it makes me crazy.

I don't love, either, the way that making a choice drops the responsibility in my lap. 

Because I know better than anyone how little I should really be responsible for.   How much I'd rather shirk responsibility.

This whole discussion brings to mind a favorite line from Gray's Anatomy.  "I'm an adult, when did that happen, and how do I make it stop?"

And while I pause to laugh at a line from a show that has spoken to deep parts of me over and over, I hear the echo of scripture, too, "...put aside childish things..."

And I wonder how to adapt to this new place of life.  To making choices instead of having someone make them for me.  And I find myself again clinging with that white-knuckled trust that seems to be defining the last few weeks to the reality that God is somehow in this, too.  And that He will be faithful to hold me.

The Pigs Like It

I had to chuckle at this post on Michael Hyatt's blog the other day.

Especially the following quote:

"Don't wrestle with pigs.  You both get dirty, and the pigs like it."

It made me laugh ruefully, and then pause.

I think in the midst of the difficult couple of weeks I've been having, I've probably wrestled a few of my own personal pigs.  Dumb idea.

And not an idea particularly conducive to healing.

I know the quote (at least in the context that Hyatt used it) is referring to other people, but sometimes I think my thoughts are my own biggest critics.  How often do I wrestle with pigs brought on by pride, fear, anger, and even physical health issues, instead of choosing to abstain?  How often do I forget that passage in Hebrews that reminds me to "fix my eyes on Jesus"? 

In the New Living Translation of that verse (Hebrews 12:2), Jesus is described as "the champion who initiates and perfects our faith."

Huh.

Maybe if I remembered that, I'd do a little less pig wrestling.

Because after all, the pigs like it.  And I don't.