This morning I came across this link. A little poking around, and I decided it would be a great way to spend December here on the blog. Writing about a prompt every day. Looking backwards at the crazy year that was, and forwards to hopes and dreams for days to come. I've added the button to my left-hand sidebar, and I'm ready to dive in.
Starting with this prompt for today:
December 1 One Word.
Encapsulate the year 2010 in one word. Explain why you’re choosing that word. Now, imagine it’s one year from today, what would you like the word to be that captures 2011 for you?
(Author: Gwen Bell)
I would use the word deconstruction to encapsulate 2010. (Is that even an actual word? Or is it one that I made up?) Deconstruction or maybe the word duckless. (Duckless I definitely made up.) Almost nothing today that I counted on as certainties a year ago still exists in my life. But, there have been hidden blessings in the deconstruction. I'm definitely still reeling from some of it, but I'm thankful for it too. For a year that has found me making different choices. For a year in which I've learned that God loves me, and that I am surrounded by people who also love me deeply, and who have held me up in prayer as I've navigated some awfully tricky situations.
I'm hesitant to assign a dream word to 2011. A year ago I was saying that I hoped 2010 would be a fabulous year. Despite it's blessings, it's been one of the hardest years of my life.
But if I was to pick a word to encapsulate 2011, it would be healing. I want it to be a year of seeing deep, true healing in all sorts of areas. In relationships, in heart wounds, in family. A year of rebuilding, with better foundations.
And, if I'm honest, I realize that I'm not sure healing can happen without deconstruction and being duckless for a season.
Showing posts with label duckless. Show all posts
Showing posts with label duckless. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 01, 2010
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
No More Tolerance
When I started using the reading plans on my Iphone's Bible app, it was because I was trying to re-introduce some sort of regularity and discipline to my time in scripture. I wanted to be able to say at the end of the day that I was regularly reading scripture, because that's what "good christians" do.
I didn't expect those couple of chapters a day to become a fixture of the way I start my morning, usually on public transit, and honestly, though I know it's God's word, I really wasn't expecting God to speak. But He does. Almost every morning, if I'm willing to listen.
Yesterday I read this:
2 Corinthians 11:20 (The Message)
"You have such admirable tolerance for impostors who rob your freedom, rip you off, steal you blind, put you down—even slap your face!"
And I'm thinking about how this year of deconstruction has been teaching me about impostors. About the people and things, (spiritual or physical) that rob my freedom, my peace and my joy.
I think I'm learning that I have a say in this whole process. That, as Paul was reminding the Corinthians, sometimes I tolerate those impostors - the lies that come to steal, kill and destroy. I give them free reign to hurt me, to slap my face.
I've spent a lot of time this year working at recovering. It's seemed that every time I've begun to pick up the pieces, another part of my life has shattered. The deconstruction has continued and continues. Two more blows have come this last week. And there are more pieces to sort out, and either discard or piece together again. And the pieces that have shattered carry with them the certainty of more shattering to come. Not possibility, but certainty.
But, I do get to choose whether or not I'm going to tolerate the impostors. The lies that come in force with each moment of shattering. I'm learning that I've tolerated far too much. Sometimes, now, the recovery comes more quickly. I'm thankful to have found myself amidst a group of friends who I can count on to speak truth, and point out the impostors when I can't see them. Friends who speak directly, and with much love, telling me which things are lies.
So, going forward, the goal is no more tolerance. No more letting the impostors hang out and steal my freedom. That's the goal anyway. And I pray in the midst of less tolerance, I will slowly collect the old pieces and find new ones. That healing and life and wholeness will come in ways I can only long for and imagine.
I didn't expect those couple of chapters a day to become a fixture of the way I start my morning, usually on public transit, and honestly, though I know it's God's word, I really wasn't expecting God to speak. But He does. Almost every morning, if I'm willing to listen.
Yesterday I read this:
2 Corinthians 11:20 (The Message)
"You have such admirable tolerance for impostors who rob your freedom, rip you off, steal you blind, put you down—even slap your face!"
And I'm thinking about how this year of deconstruction has been teaching me about impostors. About the people and things, (spiritual or physical) that rob my freedom, my peace and my joy.
I think I'm learning that I have a say in this whole process. That, as Paul was reminding the Corinthians, sometimes I tolerate those impostors - the lies that come to steal, kill and destroy. I give them free reign to hurt me, to slap my face.
I've spent a lot of time this year working at recovering. It's seemed that every time I've begun to pick up the pieces, another part of my life has shattered. The deconstruction has continued and continues. Two more blows have come this last week. And there are more pieces to sort out, and either discard or piece together again. And the pieces that have shattered carry with them the certainty of more shattering to come. Not possibility, but certainty.
But, I do get to choose whether or not I'm going to tolerate the impostors. The lies that come in force with each moment of shattering. I'm learning that I've tolerated far too much. Sometimes, now, the recovery comes more quickly. I'm thankful to have found myself amidst a group of friends who I can count on to speak truth, and point out the impostors when I can't see them. Friends who speak directly, and with much love, telling me which things are lies.
So, going forward, the goal is no more tolerance. No more letting the impostors hang out and steal my freedom. That's the goal anyway. And I pray in the midst of less tolerance, I will slowly collect the old pieces and find new ones. That healing and life and wholeness will come in ways I can only long for and imagine.
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