I long ago came to grips with the fact that I don’t know everything. I used to think my mom knew everything. Once I became a mom, I realized it was all a very elaborate ruse.
As a general rule I don’t spend a ton of time pondering the whys of life. I tend to lean more toward the camp of playing the cards you’re dealt and not asking a lot of questions. That being said, there are questions flying around in my head and churning in my heart.
One of M’s best friends lost a parent last weekend. He was a 52 year old who survived cancer, but then died of a massive heart attack instantly. There is no good time to lose someone you love, but the unfairness of this loss seemed to be exaggerated. One son in college, and the other just two months shy of graduating high school, he and his wife were readying themselves for a new season in their life together. The family just moved into a new home; a home built knowing the youngest would be leaving for college in the fall. Why…why now?
The part of me that trusts God and His timing knows the why doesn’t matter. Even knowing that doesn’t stop the questions-at least for now.
M broke his ankle almost 6 weeks ago and is still awaiting clearance to play soccer. In the same way a younger child would ask why the grass is green, my boy asked me why he wasn’t healed yet. He had prayed, he said. He had done all the prescribed exercises, he said. He had laid off sugar, taken in more calcium, and worn his boot faithfully, he said. Why…why not?
Like a song set on repeat, I answer my own questions more than his. I trust God so, again, the why doesn’t matter. And…again, knowing that doesn’t stop all of the questions, but this time it helps.
Kids in our city go hungry, teenage girls are sold in to prostitution, and babies are born with incurable diseases. Why….why…why?
Push the repeat button and finally peace is the song that plays.
Monday, March 9, 2015
Saturday, March 7, 2015
Broadway, Disney, Mountains…more than geography
Being in three different states notwithstanding, my boys and I were on vacation this week.
Isn’t it funny how timing works out sometimes? M#1 was on spring break, M#2 was on his senior trip, and I, because the first two were occupied, got away for a girl’s weekend. We were all exactly where we wanted to be this week. I think, more than where we wanted to be, we were exactly where we were supposed to be. Today as I was driving home from a weekend of laughter and rest, I thought about where I was, and where my boys were at that very same moment.
M#1 – on spring break- had decided to leave the cold and gray city of Syracuse for the only slightly less cold and gray NYC. It is his sweet spot, where he feels most at home, and where he will (hopefully) do an internship this summer. He will eat great food, walk the streets of his favorite city, and try out his newly written comedy bits at some open mic nights.
M#2 – on his senior trip- was in warm and sunny Orlando at Disney World. This is his sweet spot, where he has not a care in the world, and where he will make more lasting memories with friends he’s had since first grade. He will stay up too late, run from park to park, and try to set a new personal best for how many attractions he can ride in a given day. (His current record is 32)
Reflecting on these same time/different location vacations, I realized where we each were was more significant than geography.
One son, independent for as long as I can remember, is still finding new ways to stretch his wings. His feet search for the next step in life almost before he has two feet planted on the current one. He is the best kind of dreamer; one with courage. He lives his life with the ideal that there is no lid in existence to hold down his dreams. If there were, he would figure out a way to pry it off. New York City is the place for such dreamers.
Another son, who hates change almost as much as he hates cynicism, is still trying to figure out what life after high school will look like. His heart thrives on shared quality time- preferably doing something fun and active. He is the best kind of friend; one that loves deeply. He lives his life on his terms, but only if that means he gets to live it with the ones he cares about. He is not quite ready to give up on the whimsical part of life. Disney is where whimsy lives, but cynicism can’t survive; a place where it’s okay to still be a kid even if you’re seventeen and 6’2”.
Two boys, two very different locations- more than geography. NYC matches the personality of one, while Disney matches the other. More than that, it’s a picture of what stage of life they are in. One is moving fast and dreaming big, while the other is okay to explore the fanciful parts of childhood just a little bit longer. My oldest wants to be in the memory of others because he’s done something big, while my youngest is satisfied to make memories.
As for me and my vacation…
It was absent of my boys, but right where I wanted and was supposed to be. There was rest and there was laughter. There was a glimpse of what life with an empty nest will feel like. I have steps to take, dreams to dream, and maybe even some whimsy still yet to discover myself.
The thought of my boys on opposite ends of the same coast makes me happy and it makes me cry. The comforting thing – for all of us- I was and am in the middle. I’m home, and it's more than just geography.
Isn’t it funny how timing works out sometimes? M#1 was on spring break, M#2 was on his senior trip, and I, because the first two were occupied, got away for a girl’s weekend. We were all exactly where we wanted to be this week. I think, more than where we wanted to be, we were exactly where we were supposed to be. Today as I was driving home from a weekend of laughter and rest, I thought about where I was, and where my boys were at that very same moment.
M#1 – on spring break- had decided to leave the cold and gray city of Syracuse for the only slightly less cold and gray NYC. It is his sweet spot, where he feels most at home, and where he will (hopefully) do an internship this summer. He will eat great food, walk the streets of his favorite city, and try out his newly written comedy bits at some open mic nights.
M#2 – on his senior trip- was in warm and sunny Orlando at Disney World. This is his sweet spot, where he has not a care in the world, and where he will make more lasting memories with friends he’s had since first grade. He will stay up too late, run from park to park, and try to set a new personal best for how many attractions he can ride in a given day. (His current record is 32)
Reflecting on these same time/different location vacations, I realized where we each were was more significant than geography.
One son, independent for as long as I can remember, is still finding new ways to stretch his wings. His feet search for the next step in life almost before he has two feet planted on the current one. He is the best kind of dreamer; one with courage. He lives his life with the ideal that there is no lid in existence to hold down his dreams. If there were, he would figure out a way to pry it off. New York City is the place for such dreamers.
Another son, who hates change almost as much as he hates cynicism, is still trying to figure out what life after high school will look like. His heart thrives on shared quality time- preferably doing something fun and active. He is the best kind of friend; one that loves deeply. He lives his life on his terms, but only if that means he gets to live it with the ones he cares about. He is not quite ready to give up on the whimsical part of life. Disney is where whimsy lives, but cynicism can’t survive; a place where it’s okay to still be a kid even if you’re seventeen and 6’2”.
Two boys, two very different locations- more than geography. NYC matches the personality of one, while Disney matches the other. More than that, it’s a picture of what stage of life they are in. One is moving fast and dreaming big, while the other is okay to explore the fanciful parts of childhood just a little bit longer. My oldest wants to be in the memory of others because he’s done something big, while my youngest is satisfied to make memories.
As for me and my vacation…
It was absent of my boys, but right where I wanted and was supposed to be. There was rest and there was laughter. There was a glimpse of what life with an empty nest will feel like. I have steps to take, dreams to dream, and maybe even some whimsy still yet to discover myself.
The thought of my boys on opposite ends of the same coast makes me happy and it makes me cry. The comforting thing – for all of us- I was and am in the middle. I’m home, and it's more than just geography.
Tuesday, March 3, 2015
Dates, Throw Downs, and Talking the Talk
I find more and more, day after day, how much I learn about being a child of God by being a parent. I often think about how God must feel about my misbehavior, disobedience, or lack of thankfulness when my own children exhibit such distasteful behavior.
Over the last two days I’ve been in a stew over one such “misbehavior” from my youngest. In the big scheme of things, what happened can’t really be called a misbehavior, but yet it made me angry, and honestly, hurt. I found out MJH went on a date…make that THREE dates- with the same girl- without telling his mom. Oh, the horror!
His friends who divulged this insider info were hysterical with laughter at the look on my son’s face when they realized he hadn’t told me. They probably found just as much humor in my reaction. I think my exact words were, “M and I are gonna have a throw down when you guys leave my house!”
As I said, in the big scheme of things, this wasn’t a big deal. I have a kid- a young man- who loves Jesus, his family, and his friends. He is a great student, he has a kind servant attitude, and he makes wise (as much as a 17 year old can be wise) decisions. He takes responsibility for his actions, and is just overall, a really great guy. So, why did this bother me so much?
Relationship. I was upset about what this omission in communication said about our relationship. He didn’t lie to me. He didn’t tell me he was one place when he was somewhere else. (This is one of the many downsides of being divorced- your kids can “do” things on the other parent’s weekend that you never know about) In the absence of lies, I was still upset; it was still a slap to our relationship. Did he not trust me?
I’m trying to get over it, but am obviously not yet since I’m writing about it. He’s apologized and told me his reasoning for not telling me. (He didn’t want me to make a big deal about it unless she became his girlfriend- which she is not) As I’m getting on with my life in the wake of such a crushing blow, I want to see this from God’s perspective.
I’ve now come to grips with the fact that God may have a bit of an issue with me in this area as well. I haven’t gone on any dates I didn’t tell Him about. It would be silly to think I could hide anything about my life from Him anyway.
What I have done- more times than I’d like to admit- is make decisions before talking to God. I’ve asked for advice from a friend before discussing it with the Lord. I’ve shared funny stories, joys, heartaches, and problems with my family or my friends, and never stopped to acknowledge that my Father may want to hear the news first. This isn’t to say that I don’t talk to the Lord. I do…A LOT; however, there are times that I don’t talk to Him first.
I was hurt by my son not finding it important enough…or not finding me important enough, to share his “news” with first. As a parent, that’s tough to swallow. I’m guessing God feels that little twinge in His heart at times too.
My response to that…I won’t tell you. I’m talking to Him instead.
Over the last two days I’ve been in a stew over one such “misbehavior” from my youngest. In the big scheme of things, what happened can’t really be called a misbehavior, but yet it made me angry, and honestly, hurt. I found out MJH went on a date…make that THREE dates- with the same girl- without telling his mom. Oh, the horror!
His friends who divulged this insider info were hysterical with laughter at the look on my son’s face when they realized he hadn’t told me. They probably found just as much humor in my reaction. I think my exact words were, “M and I are gonna have a throw down when you guys leave my house!”
As I said, in the big scheme of things, this wasn’t a big deal. I have a kid- a young man- who loves Jesus, his family, and his friends. He is a great student, he has a kind servant attitude, and he makes wise (as much as a 17 year old can be wise) decisions. He takes responsibility for his actions, and is just overall, a really great guy. So, why did this bother me so much?
Relationship. I was upset about what this omission in communication said about our relationship. He didn’t lie to me. He didn’t tell me he was one place when he was somewhere else. (This is one of the many downsides of being divorced- your kids can “do” things on the other parent’s weekend that you never know about) In the absence of lies, I was still upset; it was still a slap to our relationship. Did he not trust me?
I’m trying to get over it, but am obviously not yet since I’m writing about it. He’s apologized and told me his reasoning for not telling me. (He didn’t want me to make a big deal about it unless she became his girlfriend- which she is not) As I’m getting on with my life in the wake of such a crushing blow, I want to see this from God’s perspective.
I’ve now come to grips with the fact that God may have a bit of an issue with me in this area as well. I haven’t gone on any dates I didn’t tell Him about. It would be silly to think I could hide anything about my life from Him anyway.
What I have done- more times than I’d like to admit- is make decisions before talking to God. I’ve asked for advice from a friend before discussing it with the Lord. I’ve shared funny stories, joys, heartaches, and problems with my family or my friends, and never stopped to acknowledge that my Father may want to hear the news first. This isn’t to say that I don’t talk to the Lord. I do…A LOT; however, there are times that I don’t talk to Him first.
I was hurt by my son not finding it important enough…or not finding me important enough, to share his “news” with first. As a parent, that’s tough to swallow. I’m guessing God feels that little twinge in His heart at times too.
My response to that…I won’t tell you. I’m talking to Him instead.
Monday, March 2, 2015
Why are We Surprised?
I heard on the radio this morning that some Christians captured by ISIS last week had been released yesterday unharmed. The radio announcer said what everyone probably initially wondered- “Why?” Why were these believers released unharmed when others have been killed for their faith?
There is no indication that these believers suddenly denied their faith either in truth or in a lie to save themselves. There is no indication that ISIS was threatened in any real way by a government or other faction that would make them put their arms in the air or wave a white flag. So, again…why?
The answer - God. God intervened in some real and powerful way. He changed the heart of someone within ISIS enough to make them let these brothers and sisters of ours go. God’s army won this battle. And yet, we stand surprised.
We know without a doubt that our God and His heavenly army will win the war against evil in this world, so why are we so surprised when a single battle is won? We all stand in awe when someone is healed. We raise our hands in praise, while also shaking our heads in utter disbelief that the thing we’ve prayed for has actually happened.
I wonder today why this is. Why do we believe in such a big, powerful, all-knowing, and full of love God, but yet are surprised when He moves in mighty ways?
This is where I’m always encouraged as I minister to children. They don’t wonder why or even how. They just believe. They are not surprised in any way when God is so visibly active. The world and the God who created it are both real and mysterious, but yet, they are not confused or surprised by any of it.
I believe our surprise is rooted somewhere in how we so easily forget this truth- that we are to become like little children; to humble ourselves like a child.
Matthew 18:1-4- “At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, "Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?" He called a little child and had him stand among them. And he said: "I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.”
A surprise by definition is to be amazed or astounded because of unexpectedness. If that’s the case, then God and the ways in which He works can be an amazing mystery, but not a surprise. We can expect God to work because He said He would. No surprises, just praises.
There is no indication that these believers suddenly denied their faith either in truth or in a lie to save themselves. There is no indication that ISIS was threatened in any real way by a government or other faction that would make them put their arms in the air or wave a white flag. So, again…why?
The answer - God. God intervened in some real and powerful way. He changed the heart of someone within ISIS enough to make them let these brothers and sisters of ours go. God’s army won this battle. And yet, we stand surprised.
We know without a doubt that our God and His heavenly army will win the war against evil in this world, so why are we so surprised when a single battle is won? We all stand in awe when someone is healed. We raise our hands in praise, while also shaking our heads in utter disbelief that the thing we’ve prayed for has actually happened.
I wonder today why this is. Why do we believe in such a big, powerful, all-knowing, and full of love God, but yet are surprised when He moves in mighty ways?
This is where I’m always encouraged as I minister to children. They don’t wonder why or even how. They just believe. They are not surprised in any way when God is so visibly active. The world and the God who created it are both real and mysterious, but yet, they are not confused or surprised by any of it.
I believe our surprise is rooted somewhere in how we so easily forget this truth- that we are to become like little children; to humble ourselves like a child.
Matthew 18:1-4- “At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, "Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?" He called a little child and had him stand among them. And he said: "I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.”
A surprise by definition is to be amazed or astounded because of unexpectedness. If that’s the case, then God and the ways in which He works can be an amazing mystery, but not a surprise. We can expect God to work because He said He would. No surprises, just praises.
Saturday, February 28, 2015
Signs, signs, and more signs
Oh my goodness- I love signs. I’ve always been slightly obsessed with signs actually. I think you can tell a great deal about whomever the sign represents just by reading that sign. The fonts, the colors, even the shape of a sign says a lot. But the words…the words say it all.
When I say I’m obsessed with signs, I’m not exaggerating. I’ve been known to go out of my way on a drive just to read a sign that I’ve found interesting on a previous drive-by. The changing marquee signs are my absolute favorite. Why? Because you never know what form of literary genius- or lack thereof- you’re going to get. Some employee or volunteer, with varying levels of creativity and literacy, put the words on these signs. A quick drive-by of these signs can lead to some pretty interesting reading.
A disclaimer before sharing some recent favorites: “The views expressed by these signs and the companies or individuals who made said signs do not necessarily represent the views of the writer of this blog.”
Okay, now that we have that out of the way, here are some I’ve found interesting and/or perplexing recently.
“Come on in and meet your future ex-wife”
This is just exactly where a single girl wants to hang out.
“Drink a triple, see double, act single”
This establishment is the same one that posted the first example. A class act for sure.
“Jesus loves you SNOW much”
My question for this church- what are you thinking? Jesus is not a cliché so please don’t make Him one on your sign.
“Crazy cat ladies welcome here!”
Okay, this one is slightly clever since it was on a veterinary clinic. But then again, does a crazy cat lady actually know she’s a crazy cat lady?
A sign is – or at least should be- a representation of the establishment that posts it. I chuckle, shake my head, or cringe at the many signs I read in a given week. I love them, hate them, or am confused by them. At the end of the day, they are just entertainment for a person like me who loves words.
As much as I love signs, there is one "sign" that I don’t care for. “God gave me a sign…”
I don’t claim to be an expert theologian, but I think this saying is grossly misguided. God doesn’t need to put letters on a marquee, He doesn’t need neon flashing lights, and He certainly doesn’t have to use clever word-ease to get His point across.
What people consider “signs from God” don’t have to be words- that’s true. To be clear- He doesn’t need to get His message across in stealth mode or with any passivity either. He is not hiding behind a sign- no matter how clever.
Wouldn’t we all, from time to time, love a big flashing sign from God? Who wouldn’t love to see the “writing on the wall” when trying to make a big life decision? Even so, I’m convinced signs are not a part of His means of communication. God is too personal for signs.
God is active in our lives. God speaks to us- not in signs, but in real time, with real words. He lives in and through us. He is beside us, behind us, and goes before us. God doesn’t give us signs, He gives us Himself. He doesn’t have to ‘represent’ Himself. He is. Period.
Instead of asking God for a sign, ask for Him.
When I say I’m obsessed with signs, I’m not exaggerating. I’ve been known to go out of my way on a drive just to read a sign that I’ve found interesting on a previous drive-by. The changing marquee signs are my absolute favorite. Why? Because you never know what form of literary genius- or lack thereof- you’re going to get. Some employee or volunteer, with varying levels of creativity and literacy, put the words on these signs. A quick drive-by of these signs can lead to some pretty interesting reading.
A disclaimer before sharing some recent favorites: “The views expressed by these signs and the companies or individuals who made said signs do not necessarily represent the views of the writer of this blog.”
Okay, now that we have that out of the way, here are some I’ve found interesting and/or perplexing recently.
“Come on in and meet your future ex-wife”
This is just exactly where a single girl wants to hang out.
“Drink a triple, see double, act single”
This establishment is the same one that posted the first example. A class act for sure.
“Jesus loves you SNOW much”
My question for this church- what are you thinking? Jesus is not a cliché so please don’t make Him one on your sign.
“Crazy cat ladies welcome here!”
Okay, this one is slightly clever since it was on a veterinary clinic. But then again, does a crazy cat lady actually know she’s a crazy cat lady?
A sign is – or at least should be- a representation of the establishment that posts it. I chuckle, shake my head, or cringe at the many signs I read in a given week. I love them, hate them, or am confused by them. At the end of the day, they are just entertainment for a person like me who loves words.
As much as I love signs, there is one "sign" that I don’t care for. “God gave me a sign…”
I don’t claim to be an expert theologian, but I think this saying is grossly misguided. God doesn’t need to put letters on a marquee, He doesn’t need neon flashing lights, and He certainly doesn’t have to use clever word-ease to get His point across.
What people consider “signs from God” don’t have to be words- that’s true. To be clear- He doesn’t need to get His message across in stealth mode or with any passivity either. He is not hiding behind a sign- no matter how clever.
Wouldn’t we all, from time to time, love a big flashing sign from God? Who wouldn’t love to see the “writing on the wall” when trying to make a big life decision? Even so, I’m convinced signs are not a part of His means of communication. God is too personal for signs.
God is active in our lives. God speaks to us- not in signs, but in real time, with real words. He lives in and through us. He is beside us, behind us, and goes before us. God doesn’t give us signs, He gives us Himself. He doesn’t have to ‘represent’ Himself. He is. Period.
Instead of asking God for a sign, ask for Him.
Monday, November 3, 2014
What is My Voice?
As a mom I've often said, "Just do what I've said because I'm tired of hearing myself talk!" Seriously, there have been times...many times...that I can't stand the sound of my own voice. In those times I can only imagine how my children (or whomever I'm overloading with excessive verbiage) must feel!
As I am working through...or better stated, allowing the Lord to work me over... finding what is in my heart and what that means, I feel the need to purge more and more words. I'm trying to write as much or more than I talk in the pursuit of two things. One- to spare those around me from wanting to cover their ears, and two- to find my own voice.
Sitting across the table from a dear friend yesterday who was sharing some amazing insights she learned at a conference, I realized many things. Some of the most prevalent were questions I need to ask myself.
What do I want? Who am I? These seem like such self serving questions that I hate to write them, much less actually ask them. And in asking...ugh, there is the answering.
I find that I'm a mess of jumbled feelings and thoughts when it comes to such self exploration.
On one hand I love a good personality test. I answer the predetermined questions and then someone else says, "this is who you are." On the other hand, I really hate asking myself who I am. I find it much more comfortable to hear what someone else thinks or sees in me than actually saying (or looking) myself. I almost always agree with the results of such tests, thinking, "yes...that's me to a tee. So glad you saw that!"
I want to be defined first by who God says I am, but if He created me then there must be some value in seeing myself as myself too...I guess...right? To know myself...to really know myself seems strange in some way. I'm not sure why.
Maybe it's fear...
What if I don't like myself?
What if I'm really boring? (I hate boring!)
What if I never figure out what I REALLY want?
What if I actually figure out what I want and fail?
Each one of those is scarier than the one before it.
Quote after quote I see lately seem to have a common theme... "go for your dreams and fear is okay." One such quote- "If your dreams don't scare you, they aren't big enough." - seems to sum up the whole lot.
If I jump into this dream thing, then I'll have to conquer some fear. I'll have to find my voice. I know I have a voice- a very southern mom kind of voice. The kind of voice that has lots to say. So...the next big scary question for the list...
What if I actually find my voice and then get tired of hearing it?
As I am working through...or better stated, allowing the Lord to work me over... finding what is in my heart and what that means, I feel the need to purge more and more words. I'm trying to write as much or more than I talk in the pursuit of two things. One- to spare those around me from wanting to cover their ears, and two- to find my own voice.
Sitting across the table from a dear friend yesterday who was sharing some amazing insights she learned at a conference, I realized many things. Some of the most prevalent were questions I need to ask myself.
What do I want? Who am I? These seem like such self serving questions that I hate to write them, much less actually ask them. And in asking...ugh, there is the answering.
I find that I'm a mess of jumbled feelings and thoughts when it comes to such self exploration.
On one hand I love a good personality test. I answer the predetermined questions and then someone else says, "this is who you are." On the other hand, I really hate asking myself who I am. I find it much more comfortable to hear what someone else thinks or sees in me than actually saying (or looking) myself. I almost always agree with the results of such tests, thinking, "yes...that's me to a tee. So glad you saw that!"
I want to be defined first by who God says I am, but if He created me then there must be some value in seeing myself as myself too...I guess...right? To know myself...to really know myself seems strange in some way. I'm not sure why.
Maybe it's fear...
What if I don't like myself?
What if I'm really boring? (I hate boring!)
What if I never figure out what I REALLY want?
What if I actually figure out what I want and fail?
Each one of those is scarier than the one before it.
Quote after quote I see lately seem to have a common theme... "go for your dreams and fear is okay." One such quote- "If your dreams don't scare you, they aren't big enough." - seems to sum up the whole lot.
If I jump into this dream thing, then I'll have to conquer some fear. I'll have to find my voice. I know I have a voice- a very southern mom kind of voice. The kind of voice that has lots to say. So...the next big scary question for the list...
What if I actually find my voice and then get tired of hearing it?
Monday, October 27, 2014
Imitation and Self-promotion
If imitation is the greatest form of flattery, then self promotion must be the greatest form of...what?
I am seriously trying to figure this one out. There is something that really bugs me about self promotion. This thing that gets in my craw comes in many forms. It can be as simple as telling a story about how you were the best at something, to raising yourself up in a situation, making yourself seem more important than you are, or downright bragging.
One thing that I can't seem to get past is the never ending links on Facebook. Everyone has a blog- that's fine...obviously I have one too. For whatever reason, it bugs me when people post their own blog links to other social media. I won't say "I will never"- that's a dangerous trap, but so far- I've never felt the urge to post a link of my posts online anywhere. That seems like self promotion. It seems to scream- "please, listen to what I have to say, because it is smarter and better than anything you're thinking or saying right now."
Maybe that's why it bugs me so much...it's self promotion with the intent of being imitated. "C'mon- look at me, I have great things to say, AND you should all want to be just like me."
Pure imitation is the greatest form of flattery, but asking for someone to imitate you...that is pride. In the most impure form, it is actually idolatry.
Let's get real...we all love, at least on some level, to be imitated. We love being asked for advice, and we really love someone following our advice. I'm not claiming to be any different...I'm no saint.
As I've been sitting here on my bed (it's the closest thing to my very slow internet connection)- I've realized that this is not about those self-promoters at all...it's about me and my own pride.
I'm terrified of crossing a line that I don't want to cross. I've said to God (and others in my life)- one of my greatest fears in ministry is being the one kids follow. I love that kids love me. I love that kids listen to what I have to say. I love that kids remember what I teach. My greatest fear in all of that is that they will follow me- not Jesus.
Maybe my big problem with self promotion, and the reason I'm so leery to do it is that I'm afraid it will go to my head.
I think God is calling me to "own" some authority He's given me in others' lives. I also think the deepest desires of my heart- the ones about being a writer and speaker, the ones about being what my friend calls a good communicator- are being brought to the surface.
My fear about jumping in feet first has nothing to do with the writing or speaking. It's all jumbled up in this upside down pride issue. The one that tells me it's self promotion; the one that says, you'll cross a line.
I want to imitate one person only- Jesus. I don't say that to be 'holy'- I say it because He is worth imitating and any self promoting He did was for the sake of people's lives and the Kingdom.
I have a lot of work to do with the Lord on this one.
The best I can do right now is give others a break when I think they are self-promoting, and ask the Lord if there is something He wants to teach me through their boldness.
I am seriously trying to figure this one out. There is something that really bugs me about self promotion. This thing that gets in my craw comes in many forms. It can be as simple as telling a story about how you were the best at something, to raising yourself up in a situation, making yourself seem more important than you are, or downright bragging.
One thing that I can't seem to get past is the never ending links on Facebook. Everyone has a blog- that's fine...obviously I have one too. For whatever reason, it bugs me when people post their own blog links to other social media. I won't say "I will never"- that's a dangerous trap, but so far- I've never felt the urge to post a link of my posts online anywhere. That seems like self promotion. It seems to scream- "please, listen to what I have to say, because it is smarter and better than anything you're thinking or saying right now."
Maybe that's why it bugs me so much...it's self promotion with the intent of being imitated. "C'mon- look at me, I have great things to say, AND you should all want to be just like me."
Pure imitation is the greatest form of flattery, but asking for someone to imitate you...that is pride. In the most impure form, it is actually idolatry.
Let's get real...we all love, at least on some level, to be imitated. We love being asked for advice, and we really love someone following our advice. I'm not claiming to be any different...I'm no saint.
As I've been sitting here on my bed (it's the closest thing to my very slow internet connection)- I've realized that this is not about those self-promoters at all...it's about me and my own pride.
I'm terrified of crossing a line that I don't want to cross. I've said to God (and others in my life)- one of my greatest fears in ministry is being the one kids follow. I love that kids love me. I love that kids listen to what I have to say. I love that kids remember what I teach. My greatest fear in all of that is that they will follow me- not Jesus.
Maybe my big problem with self promotion, and the reason I'm so leery to do it is that I'm afraid it will go to my head.
I think God is calling me to "own" some authority He's given me in others' lives. I also think the deepest desires of my heart- the ones about being a writer and speaker, the ones about being what my friend calls a good communicator- are being brought to the surface.
My fear about jumping in feet first has nothing to do with the writing or speaking. It's all jumbled up in this upside down pride issue. The one that tells me it's self promotion; the one that says, you'll cross a line.
I want to imitate one person only- Jesus. I don't say that to be 'holy'- I say it because He is worth imitating and any self promoting He did was for the sake of people's lives and the Kingdom.
I have a lot of work to do with the Lord on this one.
The best I can do right now is give others a break when I think they are self-promoting, and ask the Lord if there is something He wants to teach me through their boldness.
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