After The Makeover

This morning I am thinking about the time I surprised my brother, Andy, with an “extreme makeover” of his home office.  I had been contemplating it for weeks, and I wanted it to be a big surprise.  It worked to my advantage that he had previously arranged to be in New York for a few days to visit some of our relatives.  So, after I dropped him off at the airport, I quickly headed back to his house and let myself in with my spare key.  He’d just recently had repairs done to the roof, but water damage had taken a great toll in the office, his favorite room.  In the process of making repairs, the ceiling had been torn down.  A sole light bulb peered down at me, protruding from one of the exposed beams.  With absolutely no insulation, the summer heat made the room almost unbearably warm.  Crisscross wood bones played peek-a-boo behind gaping holes in the drywall.  His many, many books were stacked everywhere…on the floor, on chairs, on his desk, and some actually on shelves.  As I surveyed the space, I began to catch a vision of how the room would be after the makeover. 

I solicited the help of my friends Angie and Cliff (and their cousin Willie, who happened to be a contractor).  After two days, the office had been beautifully transformed!  The ceiling featured a lovely fan and light fixture.  Cool air flowed into the room through the now-enclosed vent.  All four walls, notably free of any gaping holes, were freshly painted and trimmed in the earth colors he loved.  His books were neatly organized, some by subject and some by author, on bookcases.  New blinds dressed the windows, and a new area rug covered the de-cluttered floor.  A cozy chair was situated so he could read, watch television, or just sit and listen to music.  Pictures of family and friends accented his desk, where his laptop sat with the printer and fax machine close by.  As exciting and rewarding as it was just taking in all the remarkable changes, the best part was seeing his reaction when he came home.  To say that he was surprised would be an understatement.  He was absolutely delighted!  I remember him calling me later that night and saying, “Guess where I am.”  Playing along, I asked, “Where?”  There was so much joy in his voice as he said, “I’m sitting in my new office!”  I was so happy for him. 

Today I am imagining the extreme makeover my brother experienced when he entered heaven a little over a year ago.  Somewhat like the water damage to his home, cancer had wreaked havoc on his body (or his “earthly tabernacle,” as he would call it).  I can vividly remember the pain of watching his body gradually and continually dissolve into greater disrepair.  But today I am giving thanks for a vision of what he became after the Makeover…after weak, corruptible flesh gave way to eternal, glorious spirit…after death was swallowed up by Life.  It all started a couple of months ago, when I was cleaning out my Yahoo mailbox.  I was quite shocked when I came across an email from Andy.  The subject of the email was “I’m In Heaven,” and it was dated September 27, 2011…the day after he got to see his home office makeover.  In the email were the words: “Dearest little sister, Thanks for reviving my spirit. I feel like I'm back to myself again. I'm on the road again. Love you much, Big Brother.”  Coincidence?  Not a chance.  It is a sure sign that after the Makeover he is now strong, whole, and truly alive.  And I am so happy for him. 

                            

Mic'd Up

This morning I am thinking about how much I enjoy “Mic’d Up,” a feature of NFL games in which one of the active players wears a live microphone.  I find that it enhances my viewing experience as I get a glimpse into the confidence, frustration, jubilation, and a myriad of other emotions that are revealed during the course of a game.  I sometimes wonder how closely the words of the mic’d up players align to the things they might say if they were not wearing a microphone.  I wonder if they weigh their words more carefully, knowing that they are open to the scrutiny of a national audience.  One question I’m asking myself today is, “How differently would I speak if I were mic’d up, and others could hear everything I say in the course of this day?”  No doubt, there are some things I might typically share with my closest, most intimate friends that I’d refrain from saying if I knew others were listening.  No doubt.  But another question I’m asking myself today is, “How differently will I speak, knowing that I really am mic’d up (in a sense) at all times?”  I have come to understand that, even if no one else hears the words I say, I hear them.  This applies to both my external and internal dialogues, both those things I say out loud and those things I only speak within the secret place of my heart.  And, oh, the power of my words!  The extent to which they are lauded and embraced, or despised and rejected by others, is really not the point.  What really matters is that my words determine what manifests in my life, for better or for worse.  My words may never be open to the scrutiny of a national audience, but they profoundly and directly shape the course of my world.  So, as I go forth mic’d up into this blessed new day, it is with a determination to create a narrative of peace, light, and wholeness in every circumstance.  May all who are listening (especially me) hear words of truth, wisdom, hope, and love…words of Life.  

A Healing Place

This morning I am thinking about the deeply touching words a colleague shared at work yesterday afternoon.  It was during a staff meeting, and someone had posed the question to all of us:  “What is the best thing about working here?”  Most everyone talked about the people, the collegiality, the support, and the sense of family.  Someone said that it’s knowing she can just be herself, and another person said it’s the focus on serving our schools and students.  But, it was as though a still fell over the room when the last person spoke to the question.  She said, “To me, this is a healing place.”  I listened as this woman spoke from her heart.  This woman, who has battled cancer and is dealing with other serious health issues.  This woman, who is the primary caregiver for her aged and feeble parents.  This woman, who regularly finds herself having to act as mediator in conflicts between siblings, nieces, and nephews.  Before I knew it, my eyes were filled and running over with tears.  With such gentle power, her words gave me a much needed shaking…a shaking that caused some things to be loosed and fall away from me.  Namely, it was the rubbish of impatience and cynicism that had subtly begun to accumulate and attach themselves to my heart and mind.  I really needed to hear those words!  Not only did they refocus me on purpose, but they reminded me that one of the deepest desires of my heart is just this: to be a healing place.  How grateful I am for those whose lives and friendship have been a healing place for me.  Likewise, I want to live and love in such a way that I will be a conduit of peace, joy, hope, and strength to others.  And, so shall it be.    

The Zeros

This morning I am thinking about the “zeros” in my life.  I’m speaking of the boneheaded decisions, the colossal screw-ups, and the epic fails that ultimately resulted in nothing fruitful.  To use a math analogy, I have come to see that these zeros are much like empty placeholders in my memory and experience.  In math, it matters greatly where one chooses to place zeros in a number.  Likewise, it matters greatly where I choose to position life’s zeros in my heart, mind, and soul as I move forward into my destiny.  First, it is absolutely critical that I perceive myself as a whole number, rather than a decimal.  When I take on a decimal perspective, I continually think of myself as less than what I am meant to be (weak, incomplete and unfulfilled, broken).  If I am decimal-minded, I tend to keep my zeros ever before me.  I will rehearse and rehash them.  And, the more zeros I place before me, the more I decrease.   Conversely, when I understand and accept myself as whole (strong, forgiven and forgiving, healed, capable), I am wise to put all my zeros behind me.  That is, I am able to acknowledge that they happened, but they no longer drive or dictate my thoughts and behavior.  And, just like in math, the more zeros I put behind me, the more I continue grow. 

Side note:  Whenever God blesses my life with the gift of other people, I now know that we can take our collective zeros and place them, not in front or between, but behind us.  In doing so, we can grow together!

 

Spiders! (And Other Dead Distractions)

This morning I am thinking about the scary, fake spider that my prankster-loving daughter placed on the floor of my living room the other night.  You see, I made the mistake of telling her about the real spider I found early one morning.  It was smack dab in the middle of my “spot” on the floor, in the room where I like to sit to pray.  Suppressing a scream, I backed up quickly toward the door.  I wanted to run and grab the bug spray, but I thought, “What if it scurries off and hides somewhere and I can’t find it?”  So I stood, staring at the spider.  And it just sat there, still as a stone.  While I stood, I wondered where it had come from.  It hadn’t been there the night before.  I looked around for something I could throw at the spider, but there was nothing within reach.  I knew I would have to take some kind of brave action because my precious quiet time was ticking away.  I decided to go get the bug spray.  When I got back, I found it odd that the spider still had not moved at all.  I courageously moved closer, and leaned down a bit.  The spider didn’t budge.  I realized, then, that the spider was dead.  In recounting this to my daughter, I joked about how I thought God must have struck the spider dead for daring to trespass onto our sacred space.  Anyway, I swept up the dead spider and discarded it.  Then I headed back to the room, wanting to make the most of the remaining moments before I’d need to get ready for work.  But, oh, how I struggled to focus!  I kept looking around to see if other spiders might be emerging from secret places.  I was utterly distracted.  Ultimately, I had to concede that the score that morning was Quiet Time: 0, Spider: 1.  It seems that whenever I set my heart to do things that are positive and productive—like practicing patience, or avoiding gossip and other negative talk, or walking in forgiveness, or loving fully without fear—along come the spiders.  There are (among many others) spiders of insecurity, spiders of doubt, and spiders of fear.  They come in various forms and sizes.  They positioned themselves squarely in those mental, emotional, and spiritual places where I can’t help but notice them.  They creep in and take a seat right in the face of my commitments.  By their presence, they threaten to rob me of precious, priceless time doing those things that I know are right and good.  But, there is a wonderful insight I have gained from my pre-dawn arachnid adventure.  That is, the spider was dead!  Yes, it was there.  Yes, it was scary-looking.  But it was powerless, because it was dead.  Yes, distractions and obstacles will present themselves in my life.  Sometimes they will catch me off guard.  Sometimes they may cause me to lose focus, but only for a little while.  Inevitably I will come to recognize that these distractions are really just like dead spiders, incapable of hindering what I am to do and become...unless I choose to let them.  I joyfully embrace this truth today, that no weapon (or spider) formed against me will prosper when I am in the sacred place of God’s favor and grace.       

Walking On Eggshells

This morning I am thinking about my unquestioned acceptance of certain conditions and parameters that are often dictated by the words or actions of others.  Specifically, I’m pondering the odd notion that I “have to walk on eggshells” around particular individuals or in a given context.  Time and experience have taught me exactly what the expression means.  It means that I should be exceptionally cautious…that I should probably not say what needs to be said or do what needs to be done, out of consideration for the sensitive nature of a person or situation.  Up until now, I would have simply fallen in line with these expectations.  Today, however, I find myself liberated by a powerful truth: There is a HUGE difference between walking according to the loving wisdom of God and subjecting myself to the canonized bondage of other people.  One approach introduces light and liberation into any circumstance, while the other only produces greater darkness and unhealthy repression.  I’m smiling in amusement as I ask myself some admittedly silly questions.  Exactly how did eggshells get on the floor anyway?  Were some eggs accidentally dropped?  Did someone intentionally scatter eggshells all around?  If so, why?  Is the floor carpeted or hard?  I realize that, when I am made aware of the brokenness surrounding a person (or persons), the point is really not to deliberate about the reasons.  Neither is the point for me to become a participant in the brokenness.  The point is that I should position myself as a conduit for relief and healing.  In other words, I need to be ready to grab a broom and sweep up some eggshells!  Of course, there may be contexts in which the eggshells have become a way of life, somewhat sacred and precious.  In such cases, I must allow wisdom to remind me that I am not called to become entangled by pervasive and oppressive dysfunction.  In such cases, I can exercise my freedom to just walk another way…into a way that is clear of eggshells…into a way of truth and peace.               

Lost and Found

This morning I am thinking about a show called “I Shouldn’t Be Alive” (ISBA, for short) that I used to enjoy watching on Animal Planet.  Quite aptly named, it featured stories of how different people found themselves in exceptionally dire, extremely dangerous situations, and yet they survived.  The particular episodes I’m recalling were all about people who somehow got lost.  A few weeks ago, I listened to the confession of someone who was truly feeling somewhat lost—spiritually, mentally, and emotionally.  Besides compassion, I felt great conviction from her words.  It occurred to me that the two of us were in different situations, but pretty much the same state.  Remembering those old ISBA episodes today is helping me reflect on some of the lessons I’ve learned about myself over the past twenty-one days. 

Lesson #1:  I don’t have to literally be out in the woods or wilderness to become lost.  The thoughts, plans, imaginations, and questions in my own heart and mind present a complex maze of choices every day, in every moment.  It is so important that I always carry with me the “guide map” of love, wisdom, kindness, and integrity.  When I disregard one or more of these, I inevitably find myself in places I didn’t mean to go and don’t need to be.    

Lesson #2:  Exploring new and different paths can be exciting and enriching; but it is critical for me to discern pursuits of intention from those of mere distraction or deception.  On some level, it makes me feel powerful to know that I am free to choose from a number of paths that may stand before me, wherever such paths should lead.  Yet, it makes me feel free to know that I have the power to thoughtfully, intentionally choose paths of beauty, strength, peace, and grace to which I am led when guided by the compass of my purpose.  

Lesson #3:  The sooner I realize and acknowledge that I’m lost, the better.  I sometimes try to convince myself that I have everything under control…that I know exactly where I am…when I really don’t.  I have to learn to swallow my pride and admit when I’m wandering in an unfruitful direction.  It is only then that I can position myself—mentally, emotionally, and spiritually—to be found.  To increase my likelihood of being found, I have to discipline myself to be still and trust and wait.     

Lesson #4:  It feels good to be found.  The truth is, God always knows just where I am, no matter how lost I am.  When I determine to BE STILL, He promptly reassures me that I am not forsaken.  He refreshes me and revives my hope with a renewed vision of what I am called to be, do, know, and have.  And He sends loving family and faithful friends with their counsel and companionship, to help lead me out.  Being found, I can move forward with wisdom from lessons learned into new paths of favor and grace.