Different, But Not Yet Done

This morning I am thinking about an insight I had while preparing my Sunday dinner.  The particular beef stew recipe I was using called for me to first sauté the meat in a few seasonings.  As the cubes of beef browned in the pan, they smelled so good.  They looked good, too.  To the unsuspecting eye, they looked and smelled good enough to eat!  But I knew that they weren’t quite ready yet.  The next step was to pour the meat into the crock pot, stir it in with the remaining ingredients, and leave it alone to slow cook for a designated time.  Once the meat was really done, it was tender and fully seasoned…just perfect to complement and complete the rest of the meal.  My big “aha” moment came when I realized how this is much like my own process of preparation for some things I am called to do and become.  Without a doubt, there have been circumstances and experiences that sautéed me, so to speak.  I have taken some heat and been tried by fire.  I am not quite as raw as I once was.  To the unsuspecting eye, I may “look and smell” pretty good, like I’ve got it all together.  Without question, I have changed in significant ways.  I know I am different, but I also know that I’m not yet done.  There still remains some “toughness” in me—stubborn traces of old, unproductive ways of thinking and behaving that I must completely relinquish.  So I understand why lately I have felt such urgency, such a compulsion, to just spend time in the “slow cooker” of quiet prayer and meditation.  It is there that I am being transformed.  I realize God sees and knows how I will complement and complete the life and purpose of others…others who are also being prepared!  I now have a vision of the beautiful relationships and ventures that are in store for me.  I know I don’t want to mess things up by coming to the table, still tough and not fully seasoned.  So I will continue to yield to God’s wisdom as I am being wholly made.

Stinky Trash

This morning I am thinking about the bag of trash that I inadvertently chauffeured around the other day.  I had placed it in the back of my car, intending to toss it into the big dumpster on my way to work.  Well, at some point after turning the key in the ignition, I forgot it was there.  Perhaps because I was distracted by a favorite song on the radio.  Perhaps because stopping the car to throw out a bag of trash was not a part of my normal morning routine.  Perhaps, just because the bag was silent and out of sight.  Whatever the case, I was in for quite a rude surprise when, later that day, I hurried to my car to head to a meeting at another location.  By then, the bag of trash had essentially baked and marinated for hours in the oven of my back seat, courtesy of the hot Florida sun.  Stinky!  I couldn’t get rid of that bag fast enough.  As I’m praying today, I am intentionally asking to be made aware of the intangible trash I may be prone to carrying around from day to day…such as unforgiveness, impatience, jealousy, fear, and lack of faith.  I know these things don’t belong in my life and need to be discarded.  I also know that, in the busy-ness of life, I can easily become distracted and preoccupied, leaving them unresolved in the back seat of my mind and soul.  Until suddenly it starts to stink really bad.  Interestingly, I was on my way somewhere when I discovered the forgotten trash bag in my car the other day.  I sense in my spirit that there is a greater, deeper parallel.  In my life, I am also going somewhere.  I don’t want to be derailed or delayed by stinky trash.  So, my prayer right now is that I will thoughtfully, intentionally get rid of all that is old, unfruitful, rotten and decaying.  I am on my way to Purpose.                 

Free...To Be Me

This morning I am thinking about the time I cried at the circus.  I was not a child when this occurred.  Quite the contrary.  I was an adult, a mother, and an educator who had been asked to accompany a class of Kindergartners for a wonderful learning experience...and to be a chaperone.  I chatted excitedly with the little group of students that had been assigned to me, as we settled into our seats.  The show began with dramatic and captivating sights and sounds, just as I’d anticipated.  Something happened later, however, that I definitely had not anticipated.  I felt tears welling up in my eyes, and I found myself being comforted by 5-year-olds on either side of me.  They must have seen my facial expression go suddenly from happy to horrified.  They held my hands, saying, “It’s okay.  Don’t be scared.”  I didn’t try to convince them that I wasn’t scared.  I didn’t try to explain that I wasn’t afraid of the animals, but rather afraid for them.  I felt an overwhelming repulsion to what the animals were doing.  There were tigers jumping through hoops of fire.  There were elephants lining up with their feet on one another’s backs.  And there were horses, dancing, prancing, and running around with people standing on their backs.  I wondered how I could have possibly enjoyed this when I went to the circus as a child.  I remember thinking, “That’s not what they’re supposed to be doing.  That’s not what these animals were made for!”  And it made me cry.  The memory of that field trip came back to me today, as I reflected on the ongoing process of liberation that is taking place in my life.  I recall the various, cruel ringmasters to which I have been subject over the years—Fear and Recklessness, Anxiety and Apathy, Cynicism and Gullibility, just to name a few.  It’s almost as if they passed me around, so that each one could take a turn training me to be someone I was never created to be.  They certainly made me jump through hoops, and frankly, it makes me cringe to remember the dancing, prancing, and running around I’ve done.  I can’t say I understand why, but I do know that one day Love paid a price for me to be released from the bondage of those old ringmasters.  To be honest, I can still sometimes hear them calling out orders to me, but their voices are growing increasingly faint.  There is another Voice to which my ears are inclined.  It is One that tells me I am made to live in the power, beauty, and grace that are inherent to walking in my true purpose.  With gratitude, I daily embrace this gift of being free…of becoming me.                           

Progress Monitoring

This morning I am thinking about some of my aspirations and declarations over the past year.  While reading over some old journal writings, I began to reflect on the questions:  “Have I applied this?  Have I really grown and changed in these areas?”  In my work, we call this progress monitoring.  It’s a way of maintaining focus on important goals.  It holds us accountable for doing what we say we’re going to do.  And, if we realize we haven’t done what we said, progress monitoring reminds us to get back on track.  Some of the striking things I wrote, not quite one year ago, were:

“This morning I am thinking about how I have often bought into the well-intentioned but insufficient counsel of people, rather than truly trusting the wisdom of God. The result was that I would find myself "upside down"--owing much more (emotionally and spiritually) than the flawed counsel was worth. Now I will meditate on I Corinthians 2:5: "That your faith should not rest in the wisdom of men, but in the power of God." #stillgrowing” 5/29/12

“This morning I am thinking about the time a student showed me a picture that had captured his attention. His voice was full of excitement and wonder as he said, "Look, Ms. Conage. It's an obstacle illusion!" I knew he meant "optical illusion," but I also recognized that he said exactly what I needed to hear that day. God's Word assures me that, by faith, even mountains will move. So I move forward with confidence that illusory barriers will dissipate, allowing me to see the manifestation of His favor, grace, and blessings.”  6/12/12

“This morning I am thinking about bullies--specifically, two formidable ones named Fear and Doubt. Many times they have threatened me, chased me, and beat me up. But today, when I heard them taunting, I resolved not to run...but to stand and face them. I realize that in running away and trying to "save myself", I remove myself from the very position where God will manifest a miracle. So, today I will stand still and watch Him do exceeding, abundantly above all I could ask or think. Amen.”  6/21/12

Looking back, I am amazed at the progress I have made.  What I find most ironic is that I my growth in each area was provoked by trials, disappointments, pain, and challenges of various kinds.  There were times when I would have counted myself out…done…a colossal failure.  There were times when I felt like I was regressing or, at best, just standing still.  But, I thank God for His grace!  I see that, in spite of it all, He has helped me to move forward with favor and purpose.  Moreover, He has brought me out with some “stuff”—more wisdom, more faith, and more joy.  Amen.

Surrendering To The Big, Bad Wolf

This morning I am thinking about the story of The Three Pigs, and I’m chuckling.  I’m tickled because I drew a somewhat humorous parallel, while engaging in some self-reflection.  To cut to the chase, I acknowledge that I’ve spent a whole lot of time over the past year, running from what I feared was a “big, bad wolf” knocking at the door of my heart.  My goodness, was it ever persistent!  It would call out, “Let me in! Let me in!”  I didn’t exactly respond with, “Not by the hair on my chinny chin chin!”  I did, however, try to run away from it, to places I thought might be safe.  I ran to take cover in my job.  But it found me there.  “Let me in!”  I ran and tried to barricade myself in my studies.  Still couldn’t ditch it.  “Let me in!”  I even tried to take refuge in church stuff.  Even there, it tracked me down.  “Let me in!  Let me in!”  So, a few weeks ago I knew I wanted to stop running.  I mustered the courage to open up my heart, just a bit, to at least peek out and see what was chasing me so persistently and consistently.  I have to say that what I saw was quite surprising.  It was ME!  The real me.  The one who sings out loud in the car.  The one who enthusiastically dances…however poorly…to her favorite songs.   The one who is convinced that no act of kindness is ever wasted.  The one who looks for miracles.  The one who prayed a simple, sincere prayer a long time ago:  “God, please keep my heart so I won’t ever stop believing in love.”  While this revelation was definitely big, it certainly wasn’t bad.  As a matter of fact, it was wonderful!  It exposed the guarded, self-conscious, and increasingly cynical person I had started to become…running, hiding, trying to avoid or avert disappointment, rejection, and any other source of emotional anguish.  So, in an interesting twist to the story, I surrendered to the “big, bad wolf.”  Instead of running, I am now resting in confident trust.  I know that I'm always, forever in Love, no matter what happens.  It’s a truly beautiful thing.  And I’m finding real joy and wholeness again.                

The Confrontation

This morning I am thinking about the mystery and wonder of hearing from God.  Perhaps surprisingly, I am often skeptical of people who claim to have had such an experience.  I guess I’ve become cynical after witnessing many instances in which the “voice of God” suspiciously endorsed or promoted someone's personal agenda that was anything but divine.  So, to say I heard God speak to me is not without much consideration.  It happened the other morning.  I was praying that I would be focused and consistent in doing what I know is right, and not be so easily distracted or diverted by shifting circumstances.  Right as I was speaking my own pious words, I heard some other words.  There was not an outwardly audible voice, but what I would describe as a loud thought.  The Voice said, “You’ve never thanked me for calling Anthony home.”  I was startled and rather dumbfounded.  Had I heard what I thought I’d heard?  For one thing, I felt like this had absolutely nothing to do with what I was praying about.  Moreover, I was flat out offended.  I could literally feel my stomach tighten in a ball of pain, anger, and confusion.  I sat in silence for a few seconds, and then I asked, “Why would I thank You for that?”  I was thinking, “And I’m not going to be thankful for it, either.”  But, I didn’t say that out loud.  With a tenderness that melted me like warm butter, the Voice said, “When you refuse to thank Me, you’re saying that you think you understand more than I do.  Do you trust Me?”  In that moment, it was as if someone turned on a light in a very dark room.  I suddenly had a profound sense clarity and peace.  I whispered, “Yes, Lord.  I trust You.”  And I really meant it.  Over and over, I said, “Thank You, Lord.  Thank You, thank You.”  I felt as though a massive chain was broken from my heart and mind.  For the first time since my brother’s death, I was free to really be happy…for him.  I don’t know why God chose to speak to me that day, in that way, but I am grateful for the confrontation.  I could have continued on among the ranks of those whose masked vulnerabilities drain them daily of strength, such that they ultimately fall short of victory.  But, that was not my destiny.  Instead, Love arrested me with truth.  A deep wound has been healed, and I will go on to live and to thrive.  Amen.                                  

Camouflage

This morning I am thinking about the little creature I almost stepped on while walking up to my office yesterday.  Its sudden movement saved it from what would have certainly been death by high heel.  I’ll just call it a creature because I’m not at all sure what it was.  I kept my distance lest it should crawl, hop, fly, or otherwise move in my direction.  I was curious, but I was also chicken.  The way it blended in with the color of the sidewalk was something I’d never seen before.  It was a scary sight indeed!  Mercifully, a very busy time at work allowed me to quickly forget about my sidewalk encounter yesterday, but now its image has come back to me with an unmistakable lesson.  As odd as it may sound, I can picture a speech bubble coming from the little creature’s mouth, saying to me:  “I know why I’m hiding.  Why are you hiding?”  The question startles me and gives me pause.  There are things that I know, deep in my soul, God has created and equipped me to do and to be.  I’m talking extraordinary things.  Yet, I sometimes feel threatened, insecure, and uncertain.  So, I find myself trying to blend in with the familiar, with the popular, with the acceptable…with the ordinary.  I contemplate what I call “the burden of the standout”—namely, criticism, second guessing, ridicule, envy, misunderstanding, and the list goes on.  Honestly, I’m not particularly fond of that burden.  I’ve seen what sometimes happens to people who bear it.  And I don’t like the idea of feeling exposed and vulnerable.  So, I hide.  There is a noteworthy irony to this line of logic, as I learned yesterday from almost unwittingly crushing the poor creature with my shoe.  My supposed defense mechanism of blending in could actually end up doing me tremendous harm!  Pardon the pun, but the thought crushes me.  I am truly in awe of how God could use an encounter with a random, creepy, creature on a sidewalk to capture my attention and instruct me in wisdom.  Today, I pray for freedom from the dangerous mindset that renders me frightened and perfectly fitting in.  I pray that I will be empowered by the Holy Spirit to discard the cloak of camouflage and clothe myself fully in His rich, beautiful, and unique purpose for me.