Calling Bluff

I think that everyone lives their life waiting for their bluff to be called. Waiting for that one person to say “yes – I see this shiny exterior that you portray…but I see beyond it. I’m calling your bluff.” And I think that equally as scary as that is…it’s something that we all want deep down. To not feel like we have to have that shiny exterior. To know that someone sees through it…and stays around.

It’s really a paradox – the desire to be known and the fear of being known. And when someone calls your bluff…its just painful on some level. I don't care who you are.

I’m actually pretty good at pushing people beyond their boundaries. At seeing something in them and gently pulling it out. Giving them room to try and fail. And it's something I hide behind. Do as I say…not as I do. So, recently, I feel like my bluff is being called in this area. I'm being challenged, prodded, nudged toward giving myself the freedom to try and fail. Toward giving myself freedom, period. I’ve asked for it. I want it. But – oh how hard it is.

Hide your scars, hide your fears, hide your insecurities…but to be your healthiest, you have to bring them into the light. Name them. Face them. Live in them. You need someone to call your bluff.

What if...

"God can do anything, you know—far more than you could ever imagine or guess or request in your wildest dreams! He does it not by pushing us around but by working within us, his Spirit deeply and gently within us."

Ephesians 3:20

This verse has always been pretty self-explanatory to me. I believed it, even as a child. I can remember not wanting to imagine what I would get for Christmas…or trying not to guess if my mom would let me stay an extra night at Beth's house. I didn’t want to think of what I wanted, and get my heart set on it, because that would mean that God would do something different. (I guess that’s a little backwards, actually, because the verse said that God would do something more. But that’s for another blog…) 

But the question that God has been asking me recently is:

What if there is more?

My 38 years have been good, great, even – not without sadness and wandering – but good, nonetheless. I am blessed. I could easily call my life above average. I have a solid family, great friends and the ability to be involved in some things that are bigger than me. I've always been provided for, and, I am so grateful. But, lately, God keeps beckoning me on with that burning question:

What if there is more?
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What if there is more than everything you have always thought was “best”?

What if there was more than what you have settled for in your life?

What if there was more to the things you haven’t pursued because of what your experience has shown you?

What if that tug, that sadness, that longing in your heart is there because there is MORE?
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What hope there is in the beginning of the knowledge that…there could be more than you ever even knew existed in the first place! What hope! What joy! What if? And, what faith... Do I dare to hope? To believe?


Which brings me to this prayer:  “I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief...” (Mark 9:24)

Insecurity

Insecurity is a curious thing. 

Insecurity accepts whatever it is offered – whether or not it should. It takes it…owns it…and then asks for more.

Insecurity has no boundaries. It lets anyone into its yard, regardless of the “No Trespassing” sign.

Insecurity does not protect those with which it dwells. In fact – it throws wide the door to danger and says, “Are you looking for her? Let me take you.”

It bows to all...but those who are closest.

It takes harmless scraps and pieces them into something unintended.

Insecurity evicts possibility. 

It has no hope, no joy, no love.

It hides everything good and true in the cellar, removed from the light of day.

It resides in regret…bound by fear. As do those it holds dear.

Safe Places

Does anyone remember this sign? It's always what I think of when I hear the phrase "safe place." In Madison, it could be found at your local Wendy's. If you were in trouble, you could go there for help.

"Safe Place." That phrase has been said to me more than once and by more than one person in the past two days. I know that the people who have said that to me mean it and I believe them, so I’m wondering what my hang-up is.

If I believe them…that really only leaves one option – I’m the one who is keeping that “safety” at bay. It’s not that I don’t believe that “safe places” exist…I do. (I’m actually pretty good at creating them for others.) And I really do believe the individuals who have offered them to me. But, apparently, it isn’t just about believing. I guess believing and accepting are two different things.

It’s a strange thing really – the ability to accept or not accept. Something miraculous happened when I accepted the gift of eternal life. I had heard the story since infancy. I believed it. But, even as a little girl, once I accepted it, it was true. Doubts have wafted in and out over the years…but in my heart of hearts, once I accepted that gift – that truth – the deal was sealed.

I don’t believe that the miracle of faith is relegated to that one decision in that one moment in time. So, I wonder if a little miracle happens every time you accept something that you have trouble receiving. Is acceptance of Truth – any Truth – always as powerful? Is that part of working out our salvation with fear and trembling?

There’s some essence of choice in accepting. I've known people who believe Jesus – but just can’t bring themselves to accept what He did for them. Acceptance is a choice… It’s opening your hands. Posturing, palms up. Saying “yes, and” rather than “no, but.” It’s trusting. It’s faith.

I think acceptance is where the rubber meets the road. It’s where the miraculous meets the mundane. It’s the culmination of the head intertwining with the heart. It’s found in the moment when we take one step and God jumps the chasm.

I have been granted me the ability to accept the ultimate gift…oh that I might also be granted the ability to accept all good and perfect gifts offered to me.

God Likes Needy

It's a recent character trait, I think, but I don't do well when people are "needy." If you ask some long-time friends or family members, they would be surprised by that confession because I'm well known for taking people under my wing...but at least for the time being, it is true. In the same vein, I don't like appearing needy myself. And isn't that how it usually works? The traits that you are irritated by in others, are the ones you hate about yourself? But, truthfully, we're all needy in some way...and I just don't like other people to see it.

The other day I was asking God to do something that was fairly trivial with definite threads of neediness patterned through it. I told God: "I know this sounds needy, but..." And immediately the words appeared in my heart: "I like needy."

I took such comfort in realizing that God likes needy. Can you imagine how greatly the number of "needy" people would be reduced if we only chose to take the needs, big, small and silly, to Jesus? How much more free we would all be with a safe place to admit our neediness - with no apprehension in exposing insecurities or fears? There is so much acceptance in that single phrase. God likes needy. 

He not only likes it - He desires it. It brings Him joy when we admit our need to Him. And you know what? Two things had happened after I uttered those words. First, I didn't feel "needy" anymore. I felt understood and I felt loved. And secondly, within 24 hours, He gave me a little wink (that only I would recognize) acknowledging and affirming that silly little need.

Cast your cares upon Him, for He cares for you. - 1 Peter 5:7

Even our silly, needy cares. 

Unpacking

I’ve been out of town every weekend but two since mid-March. This is my first week home since Memorial Day. The week before that I was at the beach. Needless to say, I haven’t unpacked my bags yet. Just enough for a quick wash and reload for the next trip. And now that I have a little time, I don’t know where to start. I know that it’s just unpacking a few bags…but I really don’t know where to start.

It’s been a long week, too. I had a couple of friends share some pretty weighty issues that they are dealing with, that now are weighing a bit heavily on my heart. A few other things in life haven’t gone as well as I would have liked this week. I feel like there is some emotional and spiritual unpacking that needs to happen, too, but – alas – I don’t know where to start with that either.

What I am hoping is that what I do in the physical will transcend to the spiritual. Sort of like when you go through the motions of showing love to someone, you often begin to feel love towards them. Or – whether or not my heart is in it when I start to exercise, and I’m (almost) always glad that I did it when I finish. And maybe, as some of the clutter around my house begins to clear, the clutter in my head will, too.

Unpacking…it’s essential to so many things in life. Putting down roots. Having the ability to focus. Taking inventory of what you have – or what you may have lost along the way. Getting things back in their place. Keeping things in order.

God is not a God of disorder but of peace – so as I begin to unpack from my weeks of travel and settle in to life at home for the foreseeable future, my prayer is to begin to see what intangible things I need to unpack as well. Amen.

Real vs. Pretty

Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand.

- Skin Horse, The Velveteen Rabbit

The truth is that I've always fancied myself as someone who resists the surface. I've been known to get irritated with small talk. I want to talk about things that matter. And I've been accused of asking too many "third level" questions (true story). Even as a child, I looked at the world from a different angle. I pondered how earthworms felt and loved getting lost in a book. I'd still choose a connected conversation over a flashy night out on the town any day.

So I thought.

Most recent lesson from my vocal coaching: Real is better than Pretty.

Last week, I was supposed to send a recording or two to my teacher. One of them was a song that I have sung once a year for the last 10+ years. I know it like I know my name. I know where I want to put the licks and where I want my voice to "swell with meaning." And that recording - in all it's glory - was Pretty, if I do say so myself. And my teacher told me it was.

But then she asked me to try some different things with it - to whisper the words of the song. Then to sing them with the same whispered intensity. You can't make whispered words Pretty.

And something clicked. This song sung with every practiced nuance and rehearsed emotion was impressive because it was Pretty, but fell flat in connecting with those that were listening. Not only that...but because it was Pretty - neither the listeners nor I had ever realized that something was missing. In being free from Pretty, I was able to really listen to what the song was saying, and respond. There was new life in that old song. It was Real again.

Here's the other interesting thing. When my concentration shifted from how I sounded to what I was saying - my nerves dissipated a bit, too. When I was trying to "be" something...to hit a self-imposed standard...to be Pretty, I was judging myself. (note: I was doing the judging, not others) When I freed myself from being Pretty, judgement stopped. Nerves lessened. I even felt a little - wait for it - confident in what I could offer.

And, such is life. We all live trying to be Pretty for someone. Our spouse. Our kids. Our parents. Our friends. Our boss. Ourselves. Our God.

But in releasing ourselves from Pretty is where we find real connectivity. We're able to communicate...and more importantly...listen. We become more comfortable - and confident - in our skin. And that is REAL. REAL is what changes lives. REAL is what can change our life. And as far as I'm concerned, that's what REALly matters.

Perception vs. Reality

Perception is reality. Except...it isn't.

I am taking voice lessons right now. Part of the process involves watching videos of yourself singing taken during lesson. I've been surprised by the difficulty I have in watching those videos, and I'm trying to figure out what that's about. It isn't in hearing myself - because I'm usually ok with that - but regardless, the bottom line is that I'm being forced to see things that I don't like to see. And it's occurring to me how easy it is to let myself live with a perception of myself that isn't reality.

The only way to fix things within yourself is to be aware of what needs to be fixed. The only way to improve is to know (read: see) where improvements need to be made. The only way to be made into the image of God is to come face to face with the things in yourself which do not accurately reflect Him. You have to see yourself reflected in the mirror of Truth in order for any of that to happen...and isn't that the ultimate goal?

A friend of mine who is married once said to me that, for her, one of the biggest blessings of marriage is having someone who reflects your heart back to you, so you can see the truth of yourself in a safe and loving environment. As a single woman (or person for that matter), it's quite easy to live in my perceptions without seeing what is reality and think all is well. I'm surrounded by a "yes man" (ie: ME!).

When we are afraid to see the Truth, we live a lie. And to protect ourselves in that lie, we hold people at arms length. And holding people at arms length keeps us from developing that "safe place" to see the reflection of our true selves. Interestingly enough, my teacher reminded me at the end of the lesson that this was a "safe place" to try new things.

Who knew that these lessons would be a catalyst to self examination? I need to start thinking about these things that I don't like...and work on turning them into action items. And I hope that the practice of seeing reality and improving on it will take root in some deeper places, as well.

Returning to My First Loves

"But you walked away from your first love—why?... 

Turn back! Recover your dear early love."

- Revelation 4:5

This verse has been on my mind some lately. It comes into play in so many areas of my life. I used to love to read...to send notes to people...to write...to ponder life. And, the truth is, I still do. But it's barely recognizable in the ways I have been choosing to invest my time.

I had a brief conversation recently about how difficult is is to unplug. Now, I'm a big fan of all the avenues for connection we have available to us now. There are dear people in my life who would not be there were it not for Facebook...Twitter...and even email. I am genuinely grateful for the Internet.

I also consider myself pretty good about having some boundaries in who I respond to and how quickly I do. The catch is...I like to have the option. I like to know that I can be as connected as I want to be. It comforts me. It satiates my need for control. But, it can keep me from really seeing the people around me. And it most definitely keeps me from living in the moment.

So, what is the answer? Is the answer giving up the luxury of an iPad or Kindle to return to a paper page? No. Do I want to return to the days where who was in our lives on a daily basis was...well...whoever was physically in our lives? Where relationships were born out of proximity, not always through the joining of hearts? No. That could certainly be a lonely place for a pensive personality.

What I want is to meld the two. To see the words of the past on the page of the present. To maximize the the new found conveniences without losing the art of connecting...with others...with myself...with God.

With God. With stillness. With my "First Love." Which brings me to that verse. Returning to my first loves...and my First Love.

Dare I admit, though, that I don't want to return to that "First Love."

I don't want to return to who I was when I first connected with God. I don't want the same feeling...I don't want the same muse...I don't want a "do over." I don't want to "return" to anything.

I want to go further.

I want to take who I am - who the past 30 years of joys and disappointments and experiences have made me - and go deeper into the Truth. Deeper into understanding. Deeper into relationship. Deeper into who I am. And, that can't involve returning. Nor can it involve stagnation.

Admittedly, this blog is touching on two things that barely intersect. But they are colliding boldly with me right now. Pursuing my first loves and my First Love. Not going back. Certainly not standing still. But moving forward...moving towards.

Don't worry - I don't think that I'll be boycotting Facebook anytime soon (although Timeline makes me want to) - but I am going to begin praying about new ways to incorporate my first loves and Love into who I am right now.

I think I'm looking forward to this journey.

Peacock Feathers and Underbellies

There's this girl I know. She's over the top in everything she does. Loudest? Check. Best story? Check. The most important person in the room? Check. Check. Check.

We are connected through a group of over-achieving, amazingly fantastic women. I'm not kidding when I say that everyone of them is spectacular beyond belief - high achievers, driven, talented and thoughtful. Have you ever spent time among these types of people? It's so inspiring...but the thought occurred to me today, when you are surrounded by such greatness, how do you get noticed?

It got me thinking - isn't that what we all want? To be noticed...to be seen... In so many Christian circles, it's become the catch phrase "let's do life together" - meaning good, bad and ugly...show your true selves to experience true community. Bring the darkness into the light. Get rid of the secrets that make us sick. Peel back some layers and let yourself be known.

Which takes me back to my friend...sometimes I want to ask her to turn it down a few notches...to encourage her to let others join her party... tell her to just take. A. Breath. I want for her to show some weakness...be her "true self." But how can I expect her to show me her underbelly, if I haven't taken the time to notice the peacock feathers she has pruned so meticulously?

So, yeah, "doing life together" is great...it works...it's how it is meant to be, in my opinion. But when you're living in the "togetherness of life," it's important to take time to notice those showing you their peacock feathers. Not only notice them, but take time to see them, to really know them - as they are in that moment. Then, maybe they will see the beauty of true community, too, and in time be willing to show what lies beneath those well-groomed feathers.