The other day I was thumbing through my mail and I came upon an add for "Miracle Underwear." The add stated: "Are you like the millions who believe in the power of magnets? Then you will know the power of 'Miracle Magnetic Underwear'... (I am not making this up!)...Underwear that slims your deriere. Underwear that hides those unslightly bulges. Do you want to appear slimmer? Then you will want 'Miracle Magnetic Underwear.'"
The kids and I giggled at the ridiculousness of the add. Of course my boys jumped on the opportunity to make all sorts of little boy jokes! But, it got me thinking. Far too often I have wanted the appearance of something versus the actual thing. I have wanted to "hide my bulges" and look a certain way to others. A way that presents myself as one without any bulges, or at least with less bulges than what I have. Am I fooled to think hiding "bulges" gets rid of bulges, or that noone else has "bulges"??
Okay, don't get lost in the "bulges"... what I really mean is, how often do we settle on an appearance of a good thing, without having the real deal? Longings are never truly satisfied when we resort to mere appearances and images. Longings are never satisfied when I hide. An image of godliness will never satisfy my soul's longing for redemption, relationship, security, significance!
When my children were young, my husband and I were involved in full time ministry. In my insecurity, I often caved in to the belief that my family needed to appear all together. I probably wouldn't have admitted this. In fact I probably would have insisted that we were transparent. Honestly, I wanted people to see me and my family as put together, doing things right, and well. We all have different images that we attempt to convey: orderly, fun-loving, calm, intellectual, insightful, organized, competent... you name it! We all hope to put our best foot forward and be received and loved. We all dislike (even fear) rejection.
I am learning more and more that what I really long for is not the image and the approval of others, but it is a heart and life that is being changed by an intimate relationship with Jesus, and His incarnate presence in the lives of others. The deal is, we can't do this alone. We can adapt our image. We can refine it and adjust it...but we cannot change our hearts and souls.
In ourselves we cannot provide what we truly long for. We need others to be grace to us. We need others to be like Jesus, willing to see our "bulges" in light of redemption, knowing He who began the good work in us, continues to shape and mold us! We need the experience of being grace to others. Frankly, as long as we hide our "bulges," and as long as we expect others to hide their "bulges," we starve ourselves from ever being satisfied. We were made to taste grace (though Jesus and others) and to be an aroma of grace to others.
So, "bulges" and all, here we are, remembering, there is one working in us and changing us more than skin deep, strengthening us beyond our fears, and moving us to shed our veneers! So tell me, why settle for anything less? Keep the magnets for the fridge!
Thanks nameless advertising company for reminding me of bigger, better, and "bulgier" things!
Friday, September 30, 2011
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
"Unfriending" Fear
Fear.
She betrays me over and over again, yet for whatever reason I treat her as a friend.
Her "what if's" distract me.
Her presence has brought familiarity ... a known in the face of uncertainty.
A warped sense of security?
Fear ... and me.
Together, we have crafted masks of posing and cloaks of hiding.
Together, we have danced a motionless dance of paralysis, and sung songs of voicelessness.
Fear.
Her chants and jingles are mantras of "have to's," "oughts," and "musts."
Like old melodies rehearsed over and over again, their meaning fades from my attention, yet
all the more they impact me.
Fear.
Her words become my mission, they justify my cause:
"Play it safe!"
"Trust noone!"
Perfect Love banishes Fear.
Perfect Love will not entertain Fear's antics.
Perfect Love will not give a moments time to her lies.
Perfect Love knows who Fear really is, and with Perfect Love ... there is no room for Fear.
So while I entertain Fear, simply because she is familiar... Perfect Love waits to come in.
Perhaps it is time to "unfriend" Fear, and make more room and time for more Perfect Love?
It is time to invite Perfect Love in ... again and again.
Oh, and by the way... I think I might do the same with Worry...she's been stabbing me in the
back lately.
She betrays me over and over again, yet for whatever reason I treat her as a friend.
Her "what if's" distract me.
Her presence has brought familiarity ... a known in the face of uncertainty.
A warped sense of security?
Fear ... and me.
Together, we have crafted masks of posing and cloaks of hiding.
Together, we have danced a motionless dance of paralysis, and sung songs of voicelessness.
Fear.
Her chants and jingles are mantras of "have to's," "oughts," and "musts."
Like old melodies rehearsed over and over again, their meaning fades from my attention, yet
all the more they impact me.
Fear.
Her words become my mission, they justify my cause:
"Play it safe!"
"Trust noone!"
Life with fear ... is not life at all.
Perfect Love.
The enemy to Fear.
Fear dreads Perfect Love, she avoids Him all together.Perfect Love banishes Fear.
Perfect Love will not entertain Fear's antics.
Perfect Love will not give a moments time to her lies.
Perfect Love knows who Fear really is, and with Perfect Love ... there is no room for Fear.
So while I entertain Fear, simply because she is familiar... Perfect Love waits to come in.
Perhaps it is time to "unfriend" Fear, and make more room and time for more Perfect Love?
It is time to invite Perfect Love in ... again and again.
Oh, and by the way... I think I might do the same with Worry...she's been stabbing me in the
back lately.
Monday, September 5, 2011
A Woman's Desperation
I don't think I have ever met a woman that is not desperate. I don't mean the desperation that we feel because of circumstances, or because of the wounds that we have self-induced, or that have been inflicted by the will of others. It is a desperation that runs much deeper. It is the desperation of the soul. The poverty and brokenness of the soul that when examined deeply reveals the etchings of eternity.
Most of us are unaware of our desperation until God's grace allows us to awaken to its existance, and even then His grace gives us only a glimpse. This is a most scary leg of the journey at first. It is that place in which our good deeds and spiritual images seem to run shallow, veneering compulsions to pursue attention, admiration, and value. How is it this comes as such a suprise to one who knows "All have sinned"? Is it possible that somewhere along the way of this "critical journey" we are betrayed by our own thoughts and feelings? Is it possible that in our state of salvation we become arrogantly blind to our ongoing need for repentance and dependence upon Christ? Those who are competent and self-reliant are at greatest risk. We become fooled by our own capabilities, and blind to our own capacity to sin. Worse we forget the sweet taste of grace and mercy that we need for sustanance. We forget that we have been loved. We forget that we are loved.
We are desperate, no matter if we are aware or not. The real dilemma is not in the shame of the desperation, which many of us have learned. But, the real dilemma is where we take our desperation with futile hopes of it being satisfied, or at least alleviated.
How we must remember, our woundedness has been met with the kiss of mercy through Jesus. Only in the intimacy of His embrace, moment by moment, can our hopeless desperation have hope, and in this hope we can be secure. Thus, our desperation can be invited out of its hiding. We can celebrate our desperation and snicker at old ways of victimhood. We can allow Jesus to meet our desperation with a kiss of mercy over and over again, and perhaps be changed all of the more, and once again know we are loved.
Most of us are unaware of our desperation until God's grace allows us to awaken to its existance, and even then His grace gives us only a glimpse. This is a most scary leg of the journey at first. It is that place in which our good deeds and spiritual images seem to run shallow, veneering compulsions to pursue attention, admiration, and value. How is it this comes as such a suprise to one who knows "All have sinned"? Is it possible that somewhere along the way of this "critical journey" we are betrayed by our own thoughts and feelings? Is it possible that in our state of salvation we become arrogantly blind to our ongoing need for repentance and dependence upon Christ? Those who are competent and self-reliant are at greatest risk. We become fooled by our own capabilities, and blind to our own capacity to sin. Worse we forget the sweet taste of grace and mercy that we need for sustanance. We forget that we have been loved. We forget that we are loved.
We are desperate, no matter if we are aware or not. The real dilemma is not in the shame of the desperation, which many of us have learned. But, the real dilemma is where we take our desperation with futile hopes of it being satisfied, or at least alleviated.
How we must remember, our woundedness has been met with the kiss of mercy through Jesus. Only in the intimacy of His embrace, moment by moment, can our hopeless desperation have hope, and in this hope we can be secure. Thus, our desperation can be invited out of its hiding. We can celebrate our desperation and snicker at old ways of victimhood. We can allow Jesus to meet our desperation with a kiss of mercy over and over again, and perhaps be changed all of the more, and once again know we are loved.
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