Fear and the Wall

Realizing there are less than six weeks to go before Derrick and I jet off to our mysterymoon has pushed me back into frequent workout mode. You may have noticed the last few posts focusing on this more than other topics, and with good reason. 

I have dearly missed running and working hard. I hit the treadmill this winter irregularly at best and started the spring off with a yellow fever vaccination that took over nearly four weeks of my life leaving me with no energy to do anything at all. And now, here we are. Just six short weeks from one of the biggest adventures of our lives, and I find myself needing to confess: I'm not ready. 

As I ramp up the run mileage, and the additional workouts, and hopefully soon some swim miles, I am made fully aware daily of my own human limitations. I feel frustrated. I feel defeated. I feel afraid. 

In the running world, there is an analogy that nearly all runners know and know well: the wall. In an endurance race, it is the point at which you feel like you can't go on, like you want to quit. The point at which you are frustrated, defeated, and yes, afraid. I have met the wall. But I wasn't really aware that the wall was more than just a point in a race. For me, it has become a point in my training. As I work to make up the deficit of all that was lost this winter and spring, which after counting the costs so far, was A LOT, I have come to a point in my ramp up where I have been left to face a mighty wall. Right now, training is not fun. It is not enjoyable in any way. It hurts. I'm frustrated. And I want to quit. 

The mighty wall is decorated with nothing except ribbons of my own fear. They cover nearly the entire surface of the wall, with just enough room for pain, frustration, and defeat to show through. But if I am honest, it's the fear that I see. 

Now, this might sound like crazy talk to some, and I accept that for what it is, but I have dreams. Dreams of becoming a serious athlete. Maybe I'll never be a Chrissy Wellington (my personal IronMan superwoman inspiration), but I believe that I could be a competitive age grouper, that maybe I could even win some races. But I also know that standing between the current me and the competitive athlete me is not just the wall I stare at today, but many, MANY walls, each laced with fears, anxieties, pain, frustration, and defeat. 

Why in the world would I want to put myself through this again and again? It sounds downright torturous. And maybe, to some extent, it will be. But I am learning why I might want to face these walls, even this one now. Courage. The only way to knock down the wall of fear in front of me is to face it head on with courage. How does one acquire more courage? By taking down more walls of fear. And where do walls of fear come from? Doing the hard things that cause the walls to show up in the first place. 

Walls remind us of our humanity. Our own weaknesses and limitations. Those things exist. People facing walls have two choices - stop when they arrive at the wall, acknowledge their weaknesses and limitations and accept them as fact OR breathe courage deep into their lungs, refuse to accept the weaknesses and limitations as truth, and hulk-smash the wall into a pile of rubble, stronger and more courageous than before.

Today, I choose the hulk-smash. Today I choose to breathe deep the courage required to keep going. I will not believe that what I have done today is all I can do. There is so much more in store for me, and it's waiting just on the other side of this wall.

Authenticity?

In a recent lecture that I sat in on on the topic of leadership, the idea of authenticity, or as it was defined, being true to one's self, was brought up in almost every type of leadership. But I found myself getting hung up on the word, or perhaps the definition. 

What if deep down, in my truest core, I'm an emotional wreck. I mean just a real disaster? What if my heart yearned to shed tears at nearly every situation or experience? As a leader, is that the authentic self I should rely on? I think we can all agree that basket cases don't make great leaders. And what if my truest self was angry at the world? That doesn't seem like a healthy place to lean on. What if my true self wanted to always make others happy to the point that I couldn't tell them the truth if it was painful?

So what are we really talking about here? What is authenticity all about? Are we really just talking about the positive elements of our true selves? Our true good selves? Why don't we just say that then? Are we really talking about something beyond ourselves? Something of greater magnitude? If so, why do we consider it being true to self rather than being true to whatever it is?

I think some serious examination is in order to try to discover what this authenticity world is all about. Because, to be honest, sometimes I don't really like what I see when I look deep within myself. I don't like how I react to things sometimes or even how I choose to lead sometimes. If I don't like all the things that make up myself, then given the definition, I can't say I really want to be authentic all the time. And where do words like consistency, judgement, rationality, emotional stability, empathy...all those other words that we associate with good leaders land in the realm of authenticity? How are they connected?

Some days, I open a blank blog post and start typing in hopes that answers to my questions come flowing through the keys, as if by some godly channel that produces wisdom beyond my own. Some days, it shows up. Today, it's just questions, so I'll need to seek my answers elsewhere.

Trust & Fear

I must start this post with a confession. I am not the fearless wonder woman I project myself to be. Now, don't get me wrong. I want to be a fearless wonder woman. I strive to be a fearless wonder woman. But I've got fears. Oh, boy, do I have fears. 

I'm afraid of bugs, spiders mostly. I'm afraid of forgetting important things. I have fears of doing things wrong. Of being incapable of doing what I want. Germs, especially of the raw meat variety. Winter driving. Running in the dark. Being careless with money. Saying stupid or embarrassing things. Grates in sidewalks. Public restroom surfaces. Trying new experiences for the first time. 

I spend a lot of time masking these fears, pretending to be a fearless wonder woman. But last night, some of the fears started leak out of me. And it quickly snowballed. It was mostly mysterymoon related. For the past three months, I have been beyond exciting to have Derrick plan a secret trip for us, leaving me totally in the dark about all of it. I desperately wanted to be able to let go of control and allow him to plan it all. I wanted a grand adventure.

Or so I thought. 

But then, I started to get scared. What if he didn't think of everything? What if we get stuck wherever we're going and can't get home? What if we don't have the right equipment. What if I'm not strong enough? What if, what if, what if... And this incredible sense of guilt began to wash over me because, as I started spewing me fears in Derrick's general direction, it sounded a lot like I didn't trust him to plan this trip. 

But that's just not true. I trust the man with me life. I trust his skills and abilities and research. I trust his instruction and his instinct. It cannot be then that I do not somehow trust him with some vacation plans. 

But, the more I think about this, the more I begin to think that perhaps fear and trust are not so related. I mean, I trust my dad when we're climbing big mountains, but I still fear crossing rushing streams on rotting logs or slippery stretches of path near the summit. I trust that my co-workers are working hard, but I still fear that collaborative programs might fail. I trust God's plan in the world, but I fear for the lives of future generations. 

It seems like trust and fear should be more related. If I really trust, do I have reason to be afraid? The logical answer here is no, of course. And yet... I think perhaps where my fears live is a different habitat all together than where my trust lives. I think trust lives deep in the heart and forms a line that somehow supersedes reality. No matter the circumstances, I can still choose to trust. But my fears create a scatter plot of all of the many external forces, the unknowables, the slim chances, the what if's that live around reality. Fears live in all of the other possible realities that exist all around us. Trust is on a different plane all together. To trust, I make a decision to trust, to follow that line above basic reality. To not fear, I have to shut out a whole lot of dots on a scatter plot. A whole lot.

I think the only effective way to become a fearless wonder woman is two fold. I need to keep on trusting. Trust can and will help me to continue to rise above fears. And I need to go and do many scary things. Kill spiders, rely on my memory, test my capabilities, cook, drive in the snow, run with a head lamp, stick to a budget, speak up, walk over the grates on the sidewalks, use public restrooms, and try everything at least once. I fully trust my love to send us on a once-in-a-lifetime mysterymoon trip, and I'm scared out of my mind. But without hesitation, I will go. And just maybe come back a little bit more of a fearless wonder woman. 

Just call me Jonah.

I was just about to finish up the self-appointed task of reading and annotating the entire new textbook anthology we're using for one of the classes that I work with on campus, and pretty pleased to be nearly complete, when I flipped the page and came across the biblical story of Jonah. (The whole anthology is different perspectives on what it means to lead a life that matters.) 

I didn't even have to read the story to hear the message loud and clear. 

Now, pretty much everyone knows the story of Jonah. It's one of the first feltboard stories you see as a little kid in Sunday school class. Jonah gets a pretty clear directive from God. Go. To. Nineveh. Jonah, being sort of a brat, is like, Um....No. He gets in a boat that's headed the exact opposite way of Nineveh, climbs down below, and takes a smug and satisfied little nap. The guys on board experience a huge storm and assume that one of them had clearly done something wrong, so they wake Jonah up to see if it happens to be him. And you know Jonah is already like, Craaaaaapppppp. It's totally me. So he tells them to toss him overboard, and they do, and the storm disappears. Eerie. Even more eerie is the fact that a big ol' fish is waiting for Jonah in the water, swallows him up, and spits him out a few days later on dry land. (It's here I always have the image of that scene from Pinocchio where they build a fire in the whale's belly to escape...and that, by the way, is the wrong story...) God once again reminds Jonah of his mission. He goes, probably with a series of big overblown sighs and frustrated grunts, does his job in Nineveh, and God saves the city. Jonah gets mad about that, but that's another post for another day. 

So, like I was saying, I didn't even have to read the story to know the message. For a while, God has been calling me to a certain something, a Nineveh of my own. I don't really want the job. It's not a fun job. It comes with a fair amount of risk. It is going to be hard to do. I will probably be there for a while, or forever. And I've been trying to ignore this job for a while. But I really have known for a while. And just seeing the title of the book of Jonah on the page this week was enough to tip the scale. 

I'm not dumb. I can take a hint and learn a lesson. And frankly, one guy being tossed overboard into a raging storm and then a whale's belly is quite enough. I don't need to throw myself overboard with him. I don't even need to be in the boat. Tonight I told Derrick for the first time that I was told to go to Nineveh, so to speak. And he just chuckled and told me that my confession made a lot of sense. And then he said, Welcome to my life, a series of frustrated but grateful groans to God about being in the places I am told to be. All. The. Time. At least we get to gratefully groan together from now on?

I'm not really sure why God does this, sends us to places we don't want to go, on missions we don't want to do. I wish I had some really insightful thing to write right here. I guess I just choose to see the silver lining when I can. Otherwise, I'd probably just end up perpetually mad at God. There was a reason Jonah was to go to Nineveh. There must be reasons for me to face my own Ninevites. Some growth or learning or development or maturity. Even if I stomp my feet and scrunch my face the whole time. God knows better than I why he called me to this task. He knows why it needs to be me and them and how it will all turn out in the end. It might not be the way I anticipate. I might even be mad at the result in the end, but that doesn't change the fact that God is God, and I am who he wants to use. I don't get it. I'm a tad frustrated by it, but I know in the end that there will be gratitude and growth in there somewhere, somehow.

At least the fleeting thought of getting in the opposite-way boat is out of my head. Jonah already learned that lesson for me. Wish me luck in Nineveh, folks. I'm going to be there a while.

Praying when you don't know exactly what you're praying for...

Umm.....uh....well, I guess... Okay, so... Sigh. 

Look, I don't really know what to say here. I don't know even really how I'm supposed to feel. You've brought me to this place, I have not doubt about that. You unsettled me, shook me up, in ways that only You could know I needed, and now here I am. Sort of confused, but not really panicked. Sort of frustrated, but not really angry either. Am I just supposed to keep trusting, God? Things aren't really any clearer than than were before. I guess, well, I guess I'll just keep hanging on.

---

What happens when you know you need to pray but you have no earthly clue what exactly you're praying for? Lately, in a battle of trust with God, I have found myself stuttering and stammering around without much direction of my own. But I'm beginning to think that maybe God's getting me right where He wants me. My pride is being stripped away, one situation at a time, and I'm left with my arms in the air wondering what's next, completely clueless. 

In these moments, who can I rely on? Who can I turn to? Certainly no one around me has answers for me. When the path is dark, and I'm not sure if the ground is going to be under my feet, the only thing I can really do is look up, take a deep breath, and cling to the hope that I know God knows what He's doing. 

Romans 8:26-27 reminds me that it's okay to not have words. 

Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God.

 This has happened to others. I am not the only one who has been speechless at the throne of God, as I wait for His will to be done. And through my speechlessness, through my blabbering random ramblings that don't make much sense, the Holy Spirit, who knows my heart, not only speaks on my behalf, but He groans without words according to the very will of God. Which is exactly what I want. Even if I don't know how to ask for it.

Moments of Truth

Today, I nearly lost it in my faculty/staff book club. This is not a great place to lose it, as it is a group of faculty, staff, and administrators, all of which are working with and/or above me at the university. Part of the very reason I decided to be in the book club was face time with others, a partly relational, partly political decision. 

Anyway, in the book we're reading (Seven Pillars of Servant Leadership by Sipe and Frick), today's discussion centered around a person's "true north", the internal compass on which our core values rest, and "moments of truth". "Moments of truth" are those interactions you have with others that are sort of defining moments - those things that reveal our character to others through our actions. The example given was that in a particular airline corporation, customers, on average, interacted with five employees for about fifteen seconds each. But it's pretty much only those fifteen second interactions that customers base their opinion of the entire company on. Focusing on those little moments of interaction then becomes critically important to the success of the company and the satisfaction of the customers. 

This discussion has me feeling extremely convicted today as I spent most of the day in an extension of the funk that I described in my last few posts. I was grumpy, feeling overwhelmed, feeling inadequate in every way. And I took it out on students. I griped in front of them, I was upset when they made errors or even in one situation before they even made an error, I displayed a bad attitude, and I, in general, made some poor choices. 

Moment of truth. 

In a fifteen second interaction, students took note of my body language, my language, my attitude, my actions. And they learned that how I acted must be okay. After all, usually Lindsey is someone we look up to, desire to emulate, learn from...this must be okay, too. 

Not okay. 

How do I deal with this as a leader? How do I force myself to conquer a bad day, to kill it with kindness, as the phrase goes? It's a lot of pressure to never be able to have a bad day, to never be able to act out a little, to be disappointed, to feel defeated. Because frankly, some days I just do. But students continue to watch and learn. 

Aristotle said, "We are what we repeatedly do." But what if we don't want to be what we repeatedly do? What if I don't like what I find myself repeatedly doing? Human nature fights against what I consider to be some of my core values. Clearly, I am not alone in these struggles:

¹⁵ I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. ¹⁶ And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good. ¹⁷ As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me. ¹⁸ For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. ¹⁹ For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. ²⁰ Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it.  ²¹ So I find this law at work: Although I want to do good, evil is right there with me. ²² For in my inner being I delight in God’s law; ²³ but I see another law at work in me, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within me. ²⁴ What a wretched man I am!  (Romans 7:15-24)

I struggle tonight in wanting to do well to make good choices, to live faithfully as an example worth emulating, as a reflection of Christ to the world but constantly messing it up. I know I need grace and forgiveness in my life, and that I'm not perfect and never will be, but I still feel internally tortured, knowing that I am not the great example of life I desire to be to others.

So what do I do? How do I grow? How do I become more faithful in my moments of truth?

Stormy Weather

Have you ever had to run through a really bad storm before? You know what I'm talking about, the kind of storm where the rain seems to be heading in a more horizontal direction than a vertical one. Have you ever just had to be out in one of those, even for a few seconds? 

That is what my life has been feeling like lately. All the time. 

I can't look around. My arms are covering my face for protection from the wind and rain. I'm a little bit fearful. A little bit frustrated that it won't let up. More than a little bit hurried. Things just seem to come from all sides in a relentless, tormenting sort of way that after a while just drives a person crazy. 

When you're out in storms like this, you hope for the best, that maybe you're shoes won't let your socks get so wet that you'll have to wring them out, or that you won't slip and wipe out between the front door and the car. You hope you can move faster than you usually do, as if that might keep you somewhat drier. All you can really focus on is that moment, that feeling of being out in the middle of it all, to be over. 

I started thinking today, is this depression?  But no, I am certain it is not. I've been through depression before. Depression is like a weight hung around your neck or from your heart. It's like an internal condition that you can feel, you know is there, and your decisions, your actions, your behaviors, all react based on that internal weight. My life right now, is nothing like that. It's more just like being a person caught in a rain storm with whipping winds and loud thunder and torrential rains. It's external forces acting upon me that seem to force my hand when it comes to actions, decisions, and behaviors. It makes me a little scared, a little frustrated, rushed. 

But this weekend, I found a little bit of an awning to take shelter under - a few moments of peace amidst the chaos. I ran a peaceful, joy-filled 5K and did well. I spent a day with my dearest friend shopping, eating, relaxing. And I spent this afternoon with the two people that know and love me best in the world as they helped me around the house and the yard.

You don't realize how much those quiet moments mean until you're searching for an awning while running down the street in the rain. Those moments allow us to exhale deeply, dwelling in the reminder that the entire world isn't always stuck in a rain storm. And although I know I have to get back out from under the awning and run a little further to the next one, the fact that there is a next one is enough to keep me going. 

Someday, the rains will stop, the pace will slow, the world will feel a bit less panicked and a bit more calm. This coming week, the awnings will have to be enough as I continue to stand my ground in the storm.

Filters (Or Jealousy of the Even-Keeled)

I have had a few bad days in a row at work. Things have frankly just been awful. It seems I can do nothing right. I blow budgets, screw up paperwork processes I've gotten right for years, send out emails incorrectly, miss important phone calls...you get the idea.

And to pile frustration on top of frustration, campus technology issues still plague all that work there, whether it be a slow network, email clients force-quitting countless times a day, laptop hardware issues...things aren't going well. 

All those things together make for a very tense and grumpy Lindsey. And what I have learned, okay, maybe knew all along...what has been exacerbated greatly by the constant dwelling at the end of a rope, is my complete lack of filters to be able to handle things appropriately. Most people would take a little walk, ask calm questions to find reasonable answers, just keep fighting through... Me? I yell...at my boss, at our secretary, at random students. I send inappropriate emails to departments that seem to be the cause of my most miserable state. I cry a little. I fly off the handle, throw a temper tantrum, then yell some more. 

I am not an angry person. I don't have a lot of pent up anxiety or frustrations that I carry with me for days, weeks, years. I am generally full of joy. I consider myself an optimist, for Pete's sake! But when I'm at the end of my rope, I lose control. I can't help but type up a nasty letter in my email and hit send immediately. 

And it's times like these that I look around and see normally functioning adults not doing this as a general rule. Colleagues can sit calmly and have a quiet conversation about the situation at hand while I stand over my boss's desk and throw papers at him. Coworkers can ride out the storm, remaining action oriented and solutions focused while I shoot down every suggestion they may make. 

And frankly, I'm jealous. I'm jealous of whatever filter they have that I lack. The I-won't-blow-up-at-that filter. It's a simple even-keeledness that keeps people from freaking out, that holds their tongues and send-button-pushing-index-fingers back even if they may want to use them. I am not even-keeled. And the last two days, I've really been the very antithesis of  even-keeledness...not a single level-headed moment has come from me in two days. 

Yesterday, on my run, I started to ask God to teach me to be tempered, even, smooth, moderate...but then I stopped and took it all back. When people pray for patience, what does God give them? Situations to practice patience. When people ask for the ability to forgive wrongs, what does God show them? A few more wrongs to forgive. So, noooo, no. No thanks. I do not want to ask for temperance. Not if it means that I will be given more situations to practice such a skill. I don't want to ask for even-keeledness, unruffledness, moderation...because it seems to me that God will certainly provide me with ample opportunities to learn it if I do. And based on my performance over the last two days, I don't necessarily think it's a learnable skill for me. I'll just remain jealous of those that have the ability and rely on them to deal with things when they get really thick. 

(Okay, so I realize that I'm becoming unreasonable here at the end. I really do want to learn these skills. I know several people who are absolutely gifted in this skill, and I need to ask them about it to see if I can learn a thing or two. And, because I know I need to, I will reinstate my retracted prayer for help in this area. Even if I really don't want to have to practice it any more.)

Just an Idea

Is it just a girl thing? Or do guys do it, too? Or is it maybe just a me thing? Single gals, you may need to chime in and comment here to set me straight.

This has happened on more than one occasion. I have begun to "fall in love" with the idea of someone....someone, in fact, that I have never met. I have seen a picture or two, heard a story once or twice, and there I tumble. The daydreams begin. As does the googling. The looking for just one more photo. The hoping for another story. 

I don't plan to ever meet this man of my imaginary dreams. I won't ever even probably ask to. It would probably be far to disappointing to meet the actual man after building a fictitious one in my mind. 

Do all women do this? Well, the single ones at least? Are we supposed to grow out of this phase at some point? The looking longingly at his first name. Sneaking his last name behind your name just one time. Dreaming of hopelessly romantic proposals and weddings. Imagining Christmases with the family. 

Sorry if this post is really strange. Every woman I know that reads this is probably shaking their head in bewilderment wondering how in the world I got to be so strange. And if that's the case, well, at least I'm going down honestly. 

And in an only slightly related note, where in the world is the real man that will make my heart melt in reality rather than in dreamland? How do I go about finding him outside of my imagination? Twenty-seven years, and I still don't think I've come anywhere close to figuring this out. 

And in truly unrelated news, on Wednesday, I start school one more time. I have first-day jitters worse than the first day of middle school tonight already. Time to prepare for another great adventure!

Be careful what you wish for...

I do not know the origins of the phrase, "Be careful what you wish for!" But lately, that phrase has been ringing truer than usual in my life in a number of situations.

The other night, I went on a blind date of sorts - a set up by my next door neighbor. My neighbors are wonderful people who I adore and am very thankful for. But when a neighbor tries to set you up with someone (they've never met), one should not always accept the offer. But I guess I did invite it. I tell all people that know me well that if they know of people that I might get along with, they should introduce us. Perhaps some people are a better judge of personalities than others.  (Long story short, the blind date did not go well...at all. We each brought several friends out for drinks so it was at least low key. But I got a text the following day asking if the friend I brought with me might be interested in a call from him. Neat. And she would not.) I need to be far more careful what I wish for!

At work, I'm getting a new assistant director to help me out with Student Activities. Awesome! But that means that in the next few weeks, I have to figure out how to hire, train, and get fully functioning a whole person...and myself. I can't even get myself organized for the fall most years! I am so very grateful for finally getting the help I so desperately need. I have no idea how I'm going to get everything done before students come back. Lesson learned - I need to be careful what I wish for! 

I'm leaving on vacation in a few days. I love vacation. I love seeing my mom for a few days and my dad for a few days. (No, they're not divorced. We just like to do different stuff together.) I love the challenge of climbing to the tops of mountains and the relaxation of shopping and girl-time. Work is tragically busy right now. I have publications coming out of my ears. I'm way behind. But I want this vacation. Looks like I'll be dragging mass quantities of work along with me to Colorado. Oh, and my house needed some major cleaning before it would meet minimum-mom-standards...so that's what I got to do tonight. Okay, I get it! I guess I should be careful what I wish for! 

This summer is shaping up to be one of the busiest, craziest, most wonderful summers ever. I'm excited, thrilled, calm, tense, and through it all, in remarkably good spirits. I have to keep reminding myself that I indeed did ask for much of what I'm experiencing this summer. I wanted a garden, thus I need to commit to weeding and keeping it nice and canning or freezing everything once it's ready. I wanted some help in the office, so I need to figure out how to get them here and give them a great experience. I want a husband, so I need to learn to take the bad with the good all as a part of the process...either that or figure out how to find him all by myself. 

Perhaps the lesson, "Be careful what you wish for!" is really code for, "For every decision you make, there is a consequence. You're going to have to deal with that." :)

Ahead and Behind

Can someone please explain to me how I can simultaneously feel so far ahead and so far behind on things lately? And not just a few things. It seems like everything is suspended in this weird cosmic taffy pulling machine. 

I've been seemingly cruising along nicely in all things New Student Orientation - getting a theme to the University Relations folks, setting up the schedule, making plans to change things from last year, getting quotes and contracts tidied up... But then I stop and think about all there is to do yet - completing said contracts, working out the kinks in my budget, getting training planned for the mentors, getting faculty and staff on board, planning meal menus and traffic flow patterns and information delivery methods...Oh how very much there is yet to do! 

And the same ahead/behind theory applies to my home and personal life, too. I've got my garden planted and veggies springing up everywhere, but I don't have a single herb in a planter or my flowerbeds weeded. I managed to mow but not trim this weekend. The laundry's clean and folded but all over the living room floor. See what I mean? Ahead and behind. 

And well beyond simple and mundane tasks, the theory seems to still hold true. Look at all I've accomplished already in life! I joke frequently about getting to live three times the amount of life that everyone else does just because I pack so much in. And it's a wonderful life if I do say so myself. I'm not even thirty and somehow I've found the career path that I plan to stick with in one form or another, I have a house that I love, I (usually) can pay all of my bills and live a fiscally competent life, and I am about to embark on the educational journey of completing my doctorate degree. But there are, several things that I feel have been left far behind, for one reason or another. My ability to build and maintain healthy, strong, lasting relationships with others (friends and loves) always seems to suffer to one cause or another. 

Perhaps the solution to this whole mess is that I take a break or slow down on some of the things I'm so very ahead on in order to play catch up with the things I've fallen behind on. Simple concept in theory, right? Somehow I think that if it was that simple, I would have already figured it out by now... 

There is a sort of cruel irony...

There is a sort of cruel irony to having a love song stuck in your head when you're not in love. For the past week or so, a single song has been resonating in my head: Brook Frasier's The Thief. Check it out here.

The jaded cynic in me says that certainly these types of feelings aren't even possible. I've searched and never felt anything like the words of this song. But the hopeless romantic in me knows that songs like that don't get written because of make-believe or fairytales. They are written in moments of truth and vulnerability.

I hate to hear women complain about their husbands, children, mother-in-laws. It breaks my heart. I want to grab them by the shoulders, shake them, and proclaim assertively, You have everything I want! Cherish it! I don't usually do that, by the way. But the thought has crossed my mind more than once. I know no one's circumstance is perfect, and human nature is really good at making us want what we don't or can't have, but still...

I've been through many phases of my single self. I've been happy and even proud to be alone, self-sufficient, and selectively single. I've been singularly focused on becoming not single in any way possible, desperately love-sick for the man of my dreams. And I've been all sorts of places in between. Today, I find myself melancholy, happy with where my life has taken me but knowing something still lacks. Counting my blessings but yearning for just one more. Excited for the possibilities of the horizon but cautious of what the next day might bring or not bring. And battling the irony that sits quietly beside that beautiful love song stuck in my head for another day.

An Effective Attack

I haven't had a week like this in quite a while. Oh, what a struggle it has been. I feel so defeated. My view of my very worth has been attacked from all sides, and what an effective attack it has been. 

The week began with an honest but unexpected conversation with a colleague that shook my confidence on a major project I've been working diligently on for nearly two years. I've been fixated on it all week, usually worrying myself all the way to worst-case scenario mode, occasionally spontaneously bursting into tears, trying to figure out what I've done wrong or what I could have done better, second guessing all of my effort. An unnecessary work-up to be sure, but that's how attacks work I suppose. 

Then yesterday and today, I worked diligently to try to protect a student organization by attempting to set up a meeting with another professional on campus. There were some things that just needed to be discussed professional to professional, and I really thought I was doing the right thing for the organization and for the professional. Three times in two days, I set up a time and place, and three times in two days I was canceled upon. I found out too late that the reason I was being canceled on was because this professional was going around me to speak with a student from the organization instead. Then this professional proceeded to speak ill of me personally to the student. So not only did this person's actions speak clearly of their view of my worth, but their actual words spelled out their view of my worth. 

And topping off the attack on my worth, my week isn't even over. I will quietly work a sixteen hour Saturday with students, something I will most likely even enjoy, but it will undoubtedly go unnoticed by most, not that acknowledgment is any real sort of reason for why I do what I do...

Look, the fact of the matter is I know that I have worth. But that knowledge doesn't halt Satan's ability to attack it. He knows that all it takes is a tiny fissure, a little crack in the armor, and once he finds it, he can pick at it and pick at it until I'm just exhausted, affected, hurt. But it's time to attack back. I have worth. And I can prove it. 

Genesis 1:27 says, "So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them." How could I forget that God fashioned me after himself?  

Psalm 139 says: "You have searched me, Lord, and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you, Lord, know it completely...For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb..." God thinks I'm worth enough to know everything about me. He dreamed me up and knows everything about me. 

Romans 8:15 tells me, "The Spirit you received does not make you slaves, so that you live in fear again; rather, the Spirit you received brought about your adoption to sonship." I am a child of God. I have worth because the Spirit living in me brings about my adoption. 

That is such a tiny start. Such a little glimpse into the worth that God sees in me. I haven't even touched the fact that Jesus died for me. He died for me. Because he loves me. I'm worth his life. His life fills mine with worth. So, take that, Satan. You don't define my worth. This week's attacks are temporary. They won't last. My worth in Christ is eternal. It will last forever. And because of that, I can endure weeks like this.

Discernment

It seems that the Holy Spirit has been pressing on me lately to hone in on the topic of discernment as of late, and I have to admit that it somewhat caught me off guard. Having grown up a Christian my entire life, having been guided by sound biblical teaching, mentors, parents, consistent Sunday school lessons, I kind of thought that I had the idea of discernment all wrapped up.

As a mentor for the Wendt Character Scholars, I find that I often learn more than I teach, something I promised my small group on our first night together. This semester's topic is integrity, and we're reading together Steven Carter's aptly named book, Integrity. In the first chapter, Carter provides his working definition for the word in three parts: "1) discerning what is right and what is wrong, 2) acting on what you have discerned, and 3) saying openly that you are acting on your understanding of right from wrong." One of the mentors spoke eloquently about the three parts of the definition, but spent much time focusing on step one, discerning right from wrong. She asked the group to come up with other words that help us understand the not-so-frequently used word. The group came up with the following list: 

• filtering
• perceiving
• distinguishing
• considering
• determining
• establishing
• objectively evaluating
• discovering
• discriminating
• judging

The conclusion of all of these words: None of it is simply what I feel. Discernment is not just a gut reaction or a heart-pull in one direction or another. It's not going with the flow or jumping on the bandwagon. It's not assuming that just because a friend made a decision, that you'll come to the same conclusion. No, discernment, I'm afraid, is hard work. It requires a certain knowledge of ultimate right and wrong in order to conjecture right and wrong in specific situations. Not a societal right and wrong, not a familial right and wrong, and ultimate truth of some kind that is indeed where discernment can start. Without truth, where would one start on a journey of discernment? What measure of right and wrong would one seek out? 

Some may reason, Well, I follow my heart. Ah, but how much so can we even trust our own hearts? Our emotions, feelings, our guts? There are warnings against this very heart-trust in plain language in the Bible. Jeremiah 17:9, which I will be spending some significant time with this week states, "The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it?" So, my heart may want something terribly, but is it necessarily right? I may long for some desire, but it may not be in any form good. 

The speaker for the night continued to drive this point home with a quote that I will attribute to her since Google has not helped me locate it from any alternative source: "The heart is an important instructor only after is has been instructed." A heart by itself, as well intentioned as it might be, as much of a good heart it may consider itself, simply cannot discern right from wrong. It can only tell what feels good, what promotes self worth, what satisfies impulses and urges and yearnings right now. But a heart that is first instructed by the Holy Spirit can navigate those feelings, yearnings, decisions with a solid knowledge of unchanging truth. And the more I train my heart, the easier, though I would argue rarely easy, difficult decisions become. 

And how does one train their heart for discernment? The Word of God is where we find our truth, the unwavering, unchanging truth of right and wrong, established and inspired by God himself for his people. And when the Word is too difficult to understand on our own, we rely on the Holy Spirit living actively inside us to continue to instruct our hearts beyond our own limited understanding.

So, I guess at the heart of it all, is God. When I encounter a difficult decision, or something that seems to pull my head and my heart and my feelings and my knowledge all in different directions, the best thing I can do is go back to the Word of God, to dig into wherever it is God leads me, to learn from what he teaches me, and to listen to the interpretation of the Living God inside me. That's discernment. And that's just scratching the surface.

Another Single Christmas

"So, Lindsey...what's going on with you? Are you dating anyone these days?" Kathy asked while a big group of us sat around the table. We'd all had a little to drink which seems to make everyone a little more honest. "No, I'm not dating anyone," I replied with a smile. "Well, what is up with that?" she asked, somewhat jokingly. "What is up with that?" I responded, quite a bit less jokingly. And that opened up the usual line of questioning about what type of guy I liked, what I was looking for in a man, if I was okay with being set up...

After the service in the fellowship hall of my parents' church, Tracy walked by with her new baby boy. A kindhearted old man walked up to my mother and asked, "And when exactly will you get to brag over your grandchildren?" I'm standing right here, I thought to myself as my mom politely laughed and said she was probably still a few years off. Yeah.

"Well, it's either you or you next," Aunt Joan said as we all gathered in the kitchen for Christmas. "For what?" I asked. "To get married. It's either you or your cousin Ryan...although your cousin Jordan has been dating the same guy for a while..." How could I have forgotten?

Going back home, especially for the holidays, seems to get a little tougher every year. The realization that, yes, I'm still single, and no I don't have any babies yet, gets more obvious for me and more astounding for everyone else as each year goes by. After twenty seven Christmases of me having no significant others coming home with me, you'd think it would be somewhat less surprising for people. I know everyone means well, but they forget that as long as the journey has seemed for them watching me live this predominantly single life, it has been eternally longer for me.

I hate to think of anything else but Jesus' birth around Christmas time. But it seems this year, as in the past few years, that others aren't going to make it easy for me as I'm forced to remember just how single and just how childless I am again and again. Sigh. There's always next year, right?

Undeserved Thanks

Lately I've been struggling with how to best use my gifts...or perhaps when and where to use them and when and where not to use them. It seems like a silly struggle, doesn't it? But this past semester at work, it has seemed that my gifts and abilities are in high demand. That's not to say I've overly gifted in every way...how laughable. No, it's just to say that there are a few particular gifts that I have (organization of massive amounts of tiny obnoxious details, for instance) that everyone seems to want or need a piece of for numerous projects and initiatives. 

Today, I got an email thank-you from a co-director of a committee I'm on, and it made me feel terrible. He thanked me for my generous sharing of my gifts for our project, but I have been anything but generous. In fact, I've been downright stingy. I've been crabby, impatient, stressed, and whiny. I've complained about not being paid or paid enough, and more than once I've touted that certainly I am the only one who could do what I did for the committee. 

And now, with kind words of thanks in front of me, I feel like a sleaze. How could I act like that to a group of people that asked for the use of my gifts and to whom I accepted the challenge? When I signed on, I felt like the group really needed me, and I, frankly, wanted to use my gifts for them and for the project, but now I nearly resent the opportunity. 

But where is the line? Where is the line between wanting to use my gifts and abilities and not wanting to be taken advantage of? Perhaps I'm a little jaded, knowing that as a single woman, I am probably taken advantage of with expectations that I'll just be there for evening and weekend activities... Those who know me well often ask why I don't just say no when asked to help with projects. And frankly, I don't know...probably because I struggle so much with knowing how much is too much, where to draw the line. I want people to know that my services are not on sale. I'm not the bargain basement of miscellaneous services. I have value, a high value in fact, that I feel is rarely represented monetarily. But on the flip side, I don't want to be stingy with my gifts and abilities. I want to share them where I should for God's purpose. 

So there you have it. A single undeserved thank-you note has sent my head spinning as to how in the world I'm supposed to negotiate and navigate my own gifts and abilities. Any suggestions on how to sort it all out?

Slow to Anger

Lately, I've found myself getting cranky quite a bit. Usually it's directed toward someone or something that I don't see being done "right" so I consider it some sort of righteous anger. You know, as if I'm on some holier than thou kick, believing that when I do things, they're done "right" and when people don't do them like I would, they're most certainly "wrong." 

So, tonight after a seemingly "wrong" going meeting, I came home cranky but decided to search "slow to anger" into the biblegateway.com search engine. I got nine old testament passages with the exact phrase "slow to anger." All but one said exactly the same phrase after it too: "..and abounding in love..." 

I got to thinking, I bet God looks at earth and his people and thinks, "I think you're going about that in the wrong way," all the time. How many times do I deserve a cranky God looking at me, shaking His head. How many times have I gone about things in my own way, even sometimes knowing that His way will undoubtedly be better, but choosing the wrong way anyway. And yet, God doesn't fly off the handle, He doesn't throw his hands in the air, complain about me and my choices, He doesn't take things away from me when I don't do them just right. Why not? Because He is abounding in love. And being full of love, He wants me to learn and grow. How do I do that? Sometimes by doing things the wrong way. 

So, how do I implement this in my own life? How do I cool it and stop being so darn cranky at all those people doing things the wrong way? Well, the only thing I can figure is just love them more, be downright overflowing with love. How can I get so mad at the people that I love so much? They're trying their best, just like I am. And getting mad just freaks people out, shuts people down, hurts people. So, I pray for the capacity to love people more as I try to model after God, being slow to anger and full of love.

Humbled

Nothing else quite matches the feeling. I'm sitting in front of my laptop with a bowl of chili in hand, writing some silly blog about my current lifestyle. And then the phone rings. I don't recognize the number, but I answer anyway. "Lindsey, it's Amy. Are you coming to our meeting?" I glance at the clock. The meeting started fifteen minutes ago. In Platteville. I will be 45 minutes late...at best. I'm the chair of the committee.

I feel like crying. Like spitting. I hate screwing up. I hate being reminded of my own limitations. 

Oh, the gracious women of that committee. They smiled, continued on with their meeting, got a ton of business done. Stupid me for being so cocky that this little committee at church would be easy. That it would be no big deal. 

So, now that I'm decently humbled, I am back in front of my laptop, back at the dining room table, taking deep breaths to somehow get over myself and move on with the projects intended for this evening. First on the agenda? Updating my calendars. Sigh.

On Forgiveness, Confession, and Growth

Because talking about one topic wouldn't seem like rambling enough...

Last night, for the first time, I publicly talked about my battle with bitterness toward my predecessor in a small group. The confession was a terrifying moment for me as I faced a group of students that may look up to me and follow my example. But I could not, in good faith, lead a discussion about forgiveness and keep my dark little secret to myself as if it didn't exist. It was a moment of vulnerability that God provided me the grace to make it through without completely losing it.

This act of confession somehow is changing my heart on the matter all together. I said my predecessor's name aloud tonight to the group. I said that I knew she must be a good person that does good things. I have not been able to do this since I started working at UD. I have humanized her again. She is not the memory that I've held hostage in my mind for so very long. It's as if the act of confession has tipped the scales, and now I can move toward the process of forgiveness. It will not be easy, but at least I've begun the journey.

Lately, as you may have noticed, I have been learning and growing at an incredible rate. As an outpouring of all that growth and learning, I have filled notebooks and blog posts and conversations...I suppose all in an attempt to have landing places for everything that doesn't fit inside my brain once it reaches maximum capacity. Someone noted last night that I appeared to be deeply saddened by something, but it wasn't moments later that I was nearly bursting at the seams with joy and excitement. And I suppose that's what growth looks like...sadness, joy, pain, excitement...all at once. Stretching and examining and being pulled and pushed isn't comfortable, and frankly it's a little messy. But the result is always good. So, stay tuned, as I would imagine that I have much growth to come...messy, painful, joyous, exciting growth.

Bitterness...The Battle Continues

Okay, so a few years back (has it been that long already?) I wrote a post about harboring bitterness. This was an issue that I was sure I could conquer quickly and move on from. I mean, I'm a good person who loves Jesus and wants to follow after Him. Surely some prayer and reflection would be enough to wipe out that little spec of dirty bad feelings. Well, over two years later, that bitterness that I swore to eliminate not only has not gone away, but it is seeming to spread. How can this be?

Bitterness is not like a shadow casting some little dark spot on your heart. Not like some flung dirt that requires only a napkin to clean up. No, bitterness is a highly corrosive acid eating away any surface it can get its hands on. What's the solution for a flesh eating predicament such as this? I can't think of any solution other than major surgery. 

So, what's the source of all of this bitterness anyway? Well, perhaps I should first ask where this bitterness is aimed. We'll maybe get back to the source later. As I undoubtedly have discussed before, when I started my job at UD, I began as an island with no bridges, no ports, no human contact of any kind. My predecessor had done her intentional best to destroy working relationships, burn bridges, leave smoldering piles of wreckage, and create sour attitudes in anyone within reach before she left. At least that's what it looked like and felt like to me and others I talked with and learned from when I first arrived. And whether the situation was or wasn't as it seemed, it greatly upset me....to the point that I could not say my predecessor's name aloud without getting fired up over her apparent negligence and poor choices. And truthfully, more that two years later, I still can't. I can't even say her name. And I have done my very best to hide away this corrosive little secret from everyone around me, keeping it tucked safely in the darkest corners of my heart that no one will ever see. Because one of my biggest fears in my work-life is that I would ever be seen as being anything like her. And the more this fear crept in, the deeper I tucked my bitterness, and the more it spread and corroded away. Like a lethal Chinese finger trap, the more I try to fight it, pulling one way in fear and the other in hatred, the tighter it gets, the more it traps.

So, out of this dark corner of my heart, lately I've been noticing bitterness coming up in other relationships that have nothing to do with my predecessor at all. And not only is it effecting particular situations or relationships, its effecting all of my relationships, and tainting how I deal with situations. That bitterness isn't staying put in that dark little corner. No, it's growing, festering, becoming visible to everyone around me. No amount of fear or hiding or fighting will take it away. Trapped. 

What is the release from this trap anyway? How can such hatred and corrosion be removed? Something pretty radical surely must take place. Forgiveness. But how do I get there? I feel so very far away from being able to forgive. And what or who am I forgiving? The person or people that committed the acts that the bitterness is aimed at? The actual acts? Do the people need to want forgiveness in order for me to give it? They don't even know of any issue to require it. Is the forgiveness for them at all? Or is it really for me? That seems somewhat oddly selfish, doesn't it? 

But am I truly angry with the person or people? Or am I angry at the memories? Can a memory really cause so much damage to the heart? Can I forgive a memory?

Upon reflection, it seems silly to hold so much bitterness, to waste so much energy on such memories, actions, or even people. Why can't I let it call go? These are such trivial things in the course of my life and in the course of the world, but yet I can't let them go. And then my heart turns to Jesus, the only example I should ever need to consider. He came to earth in the most humble of ways, in a form that no one recognized. He was hated, laughed at, betrayed. And even in the midst of dying a terrible death for those that did all of that against Him, He begged for our forgiveness. People, acts, memories, everything. He paid a price for a people that didn't appreciate it, didn't even care about it. 

Please tell me how I am supposed to live up to that? I can't. And now, do you know what this ties right back to? Grace. 

Here I've been given the topic of grace to study this semester as a mentor. I'm supposed to be able to lead discussions, inspire questions...But I don't nearly understand it. Grace is tied to everything - every hurt, every screw up, everything. Jesus knew that I would let Him down, and He still gave me grace. He wasn't bitter toward my choices or actions. He decided to forgive me anyway. He greed me from the consequences of my terrible choices that I absolutely deserved with a love bigger that any other love. 

So, what's the solution to all of this bitterness corroding that dark corner of my heart away? Radical, intrusive surgery. The surgeon? Jesus. The surgical tool? Grace.