Finding Glory in Personalities Not Shame

“Isn’t it wonderful,” said Lucy. “Have you noticed one can’t feel afraid, even if one wants to? Try it.” ~From The Last Battle by CS Lewis

I get bogged down by my personality, and even though I see a sea of self-assured others, I think I am not the only one wanting to like myself but finding it difficult. The things that seem easy for non-shy, vibrant, decisive personalities are like pulling shameful teeth for me. Flexible strength comes by stretching out of my comfort zone, which is good. BUT I also feel like I’ve been distracted from more purposeful tasks by trying to be something I’m not, fitting into roles not meant for me, or wallowing in shame for not being more like So & So. Embracing who I am and setting focused boundaries for myself, while also having the ability to adapt when needs arise, feels true and good as I practice being who God made to be and as He continues to help me mature. 

The mystery of God’s purposes inside individuals’ personality traits fascinates me, especially as I seek, ask, and knock for Him to clear MY path—or at least point me in the right direction for swinging my scimitar at all the jungle vines distracting me and barring my way. I have a lot of curiosity in how nature and nurture sharpen and shape each person through life’s relationships and experiences. This psychological frontier in our first world of resources and education seems as exciting as any trip to the stars, except as a treasure hunt for God's glory inwardly limitless toward countless souls. I believe it will help so many brothers and sisters find our places in Christ’s Kingdom, the parts of His body we are. Not that we don’t already have significant places without understanding ourselves better, but I think understanding whether we’re introverted or extroverted or knowing if we avoid pain or wallow in it — and why — can help us move past distractions and insecurities we place on on ourselves to make love more whole in His church. (1 Corinthians 12:12-27)

In the past month I have finally read two books that have been on my radar for a while: Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking by Susan Cain and Love Does by Bob Goff. The authors are two talented humans who have very different personalities, but who have both sought excellence in who they are. 

I am an introverted person, who is not only overwhelmed by crowds and noise, but also by trying to sort out all the feelings in my heart and thoughts in my head. A lot is going on "upstairs," requiring a lot of internal energy, but it gets jumbled on its way out of my mouth or when trying to connect with others. When I read Quiet, I felt relieved to understand my brain, just like my counselors have been telling me, is wired to feel uncomfortably and anxiously stimulated in certain settings. I’m not a cowardly, shameful, disappointingly useless vessel if I prefer slower, quieter, more cautious, and therefore hopefully healthier and deeper manners of relationship with a few, as opposed to charismatic friendships with any and all. Cain even had a chapter devoted to how anxious introverted Christians usually feel in typical evangelical settings; our reluctance to be immediately and expressively welcoming to strangers in crowds with eternal-salvation pressure has us feeling like we don’t love people (and therefore God) enough. Despairing sigh. I don't know if she is a Christ-follower, but I think she had a lot of useful things to offer the Christian population in how we consider ministry and allowing different parts of the body to be utilized for their proper purposes, which has implications far beyond the extroverted and introverted dynamic. She highlighted talents introverts have that have encouraged me to value the less conventional services I can offer the world and to be creative with what I feel comfortable doing, instead of just assuming I am a wimp with no character. Just because I am introverted doesn’t mean I am going to hide in a hole. Being conditioned by extroverted family members and a lifetime of Christian fellowship may have left me feeling out-of-place many times; but now that I am more aware of myself and others, I also am thankful for how those encounters saved me from isolation and loneliness, stretched me into stronger and more flexible skins. 

Bob Goff is an amazing human. I really like who he is. And I feel like he is my opposite. I dislike how weighed down I feel by responsibility and danger. I am two-thirds through Love Does, and I am struck by not only his courageous and FUN spirit, but also by his humility and what must be a work ethic that matches his sense of adventure to provide for all his spontaneous worldly excursions and rescues. His life is full of amazing encounters that are brimming with the Spirit’s abundant presence. Wow! Honestly, as much as I enjoy his stories, I have an equal amount of resentment that I am not driven toward fun like he is. My sense of responsibility and scarce, limited resources has led me to a path of honoring deprivation and misery over abundance and opportunities. I have hated that about myself for forever, especially when reading parables about how Jesus made more than enough out of nothing. I’m likely not going to experience the freedom Goff enjoys, the material or spiritual, until Heaven. But finding opportunities in my own unique little life to cultivate God’s blessings doesn’t have to be all or nothing. Just because I am much different than a fun adventurer doesn’t mean my responsibility or concern for danger can’t be healthy somewhere in our path, right? 

For years now I have been trying to retrain my automatic thoughts to hopefully open a path of flourishing, instead of withering. A lot of progress has been laid, but much dead overgrowth that sucks significant stores away from healthy limbs is left to prune. 

Who am I? Why am I here? How can I embrace what’s mine when everyone else’s is in “plain sight” to covet? I just turned 33. Time is passing too quickly. I want to stop wondering about wandering. God, I know Your grace protects my limited, ignorant soul; but please make known to me my part in Your Kingdom because I am eager to engage with You and the people around me. I want to see healthy boundaries clearly so my yes can be yes and my no can be no, without all the squandering doubt and anxiety. The compass of my conscience has burned out. However, the wearier my faith becomes the stronger becomes Your faithfulness. At least that is apparent. 

CS Lewis describes heaven as an onion in The Last Battle; only, instead of the layers getting smaller as you “go further up and further in,” they get larger and more beautiful and more real. I think each of our hearts and minds are like this, with His Kingdom in our hearts even now in this “Shadowland” of what is to come — and I believe more pixels of God can be revealed to us as we pair knowing ourselves with His Word and the Spirit’s work in our days. 

Bob Goff lives without fear. Susan Cain reminds me that the anxiety attached to my brain composition can be concentrated into useful and needed roles. And CS Lewis paints a varnish of beauty over all this. What will I remind people of? 

The Simple Answer to My Complicated Mom Guilt

He tends His flock like a shepherd:

He gathers the lambs in His arms

and carries them close to His heart. 

HE GENTLY LEADS THOSE WHO HAVE YOUNG.

Isaiah 40:11

The fear of how I'm screwing up my kids is a messy thing to untangle every day, which usually just makes the knots tighter and more complicated. 

I know I can’t have all the answers to enact all the perfectionism to make our kids always flawless, strong, kind, and brave. I know. BUT I keep striving for the answers anyway. I convince myself that somebody somewhere has it all figured out, so why am I messing up everything?! Why can’t I do all the good things in just the right ways?! It’s like I think I’ll get a pat on my back in Heaven for making my kids just.like.Jesus, unlike any other human ever, IF I could just get my act together. Yikes.

• Working in the home or in a career
• rich or poor
• optimistic or depressed
• different paths of faith
• varying levels of health concerns
• a spectrum of family of origin issues to unpack and reorder
• impactful personality quirks
• regrettable pasts
• No matter the Mommy, we wear so much weight and shame about how to do the best for our kids. 

How do we move past the fear birthed by shame in ourselves and bitterness toward others to claim present joy for future strength? That’s a mystery I earnestly want to discover to the depths of my heart. And I think the answer is much simpler than I want it to be, peaceful instead of restless. 

I spend most of my finite soul energy believing if I could just figure out those exact answers (the false ones I imagine those people have, the ones with aesthetically hospitable homes or dysfunction-free families or courageous faiths or impressive accomplishments), then we’ll have always-excellent hearts, with no sin or struggle. Then we could not only be fulfilled in our walls, but we could also pour light out on all the dark places outside. [In my victorious commentator voice:] We can end world hunger and give homes to all the orphans and peacefully mediate all the warring countries, save the babies, heal the wounded. When I get it (all) right, then we’ll matter, and until then, we’re useless is this lie I believe. I keep waiting for assurance from an illusory audience that I have what it takes to perform on a stage that doesn’t exist.

Through all these little struggles, like the baby’s digestive and teething woes (must be my fault), the 4-year-old’s loneliness (must be my fault), the 7-year-old’s constant forgetfulness of consistently taught manners (must be my fault)...

... I wonder how screwed up they’re going to be as adults, especially considering how much more intricate the emotions and trials will become as their minds and bodies develop through puberty in this world spilling over with distractions. Ugh.

And then throw my own body, mind, and relational shortcomings on top of it all...

I sometimes can’t see the happy moments right in front of me through all the imagined fog of therapy sessions, where my adult children are going to wonder with their counselors why I didn’t know or do better for them.

And then I read on social media about the horrible choices people I knew as innocent kids with compassionate parents... 

I read how the world’s poverty and sorrow are all my fault because I was too spoiled to even think past my own existence...

Guilt emerges. 

Hope fights back. 

Fear tackles it all.

Sigh.

I spend all my days trying to figure out the exact issue(s) I am causing to ruin their futures, to make the world even worse. Instead of being useful to the future, we’re just leeching off it even more. I try to live by “Don’t bother anyone, don’t be bothered; and then at least you’re neutralizing the problem, Nicoll...” (That's all wrong for so many reasons.)

My limitations haunt me, like specters multiplying as I take each step down life’s hallway. The doorways of past and future hold the most fearful of the condemnation-spewing demons.

Is it something in my household management skills, the reactions I have in emotional moments, the ignorance in my Bible teaching, the boundaries I set with the surrounding world, the fears I don’t even realize I’m afraid to face?

My heart rate and blood pressure rose just writing this post. I’m sorry. Hear me on this: I am living my dream, and I constantly thank God that my husband and I have been provided the details we need to raise our children the way we believe is best with our unique stories. When I am well-rested and everyone is pooping regularly, I know we are building a spiritual legacy for our kids that will glorify God’s plan. I am thankful we have flexible options for strange seasons. And I am thankful to see how colorfully God can be glorified because many of our friends do things differently than we do, and they all have different personalities and dynamics in their homes.

I just want to be present in my story as the character who supports those closest to me in their stories. I want to strongly and graciously adjust to new chapters, settings, plot lines, characters.

We compare ourselves, dangerously, to what we imagine others are doing better. We make Pinterest or That Family at church or school or on Facebook our models for what must be right. We want them to acknowledge us as successful, to not only “Like” our moments, but “Love” them or “Laugh” at them. What a complicated ladder to climb toward a place that doesn’t exist and therefore doesn’t matter. We remember things that person said or does and hold ourselves to that random standard, meanly berating ourselves for our different approaches when struggles hit.

But everyone struggles. Everyone fails. And every person can seek unique excellence without entering a false rat race of human standards.

All along, our whole lives, through every Bible story we’ve ever heard, even if poorly taught, we have been taught that none of us will get it all right. We mommies can’t predict it all. Our husbands can’t do it all. Our babies will break their own hearts and/or someone else’s. We all need the righteousness of Jesus to be our True North because we can’t find The Way on our own. We will get lost. Our babies will get lost.

But we'll be found.

Jesus is the only righteous One, and we have been given what we need to point our children in His direction through good, bad, and ugly times. 

That’s it.

A friend shared a Gospel Coalition article with me earlier this week that so simply answered all this grotesque guilt I needlessly feed every day.

"Only in the past decade am I learning that my main role is to be a disciple of Jesus, pointing my children to him as the source of all they need." (Kathryn Maack)

I want and need to make it less complicated than it is. Jesus is the answer. We freely have Him to walk with us through all the kinds of steps that don’t shock God.

Let’s give Jesus to our children in our strengths and weaknesses, in our striving and rest, in our questions and confusion, in our answers and our silence. That way they can get back up every time they fall. We are building them through storms and fires, not demolishing them or giving up on them. Let’s do the same for ourselves as parents.

On Choosing to Play Not Pout

Sometimes I feel stuck between regrets of my past and the hopes battling my fears for the future, unsure of what to do with today. The choices I make to appease my fear are starkly different than the attempts I take to achieve my hopes. Time passes (too) quickly, I age, and making the best of my ride in its ever-forward trajectory is an urgent concern for me. Juggling my plans with others’ needs and the certainty of unexpected variables has me wobbling on the tense high-wire stretched between what’s behind and what’s ahead. 

I trust the Lord directs my path, and He has always knit the good and bad into something more beautiful than I could ever imagine; but I wear the responsibility of my freewill in the meantime. So rather than a question of trust, this is more a question of action, even if it’s waiting peacefully for direction, when I am not sure where that faithful step into the dark will lead. 

I started this post before my husband and I rented the movie _Passengers_ last night, starring Chris Pratt and Jennifer Lawrence. The story was a provoking metaphor for the feelings and thoughts that inspired this post. The premise of the movie is that in the future luxury space travel allows people to move to a new planet to start a new life. The catch is that it takes one hundred and thirty years to get from Earth to the new place, so they must travel in hibernation stasis pods to halt aging. Two passengers (out of five thousand, plus the ship’s crew) mistakenly awake ninety years before they were supposed to. The acting and directing did well to catalyze all the thoughts and feelings one would have in such a devastating situation. They are thirty years away from all the friends, family, and experiences they left on Earth, and ninety years away from their hopes of new friends, family, and experiences. It’s a hopeless situation for a human lifespan. What are they going to do with all that time, trapped alone on a traveling ship; dwell on the past or future they can’t and don’t have, or make the most of what they do have? I don’t want to spoil it all, but the characters have to choose how to use years that they initially saw as a heartbreaking waste...

“Pout or play.”

My husband said this to our 4yo last week. Something happened during a ball-tag game, either a personal mistake or an unfair effect by the older brother, not sure as I was in the other room making supper. My husband masterfully, as always, acknowledged the disappointment and gently communicated reason with our two older boys. The 4yo wanted to wallow. He did have that choice. But I am thankful he chose to enjoy the rest of play time before supper because of my husband’s simple way of presenting the fork in the road: Pout or play.

Those options have been ringing in my head as a guide since. 

Most days, the two extreme parts of my identity are arguing with each other, paralyzing me in doubt about how to proceed. Psalm 90:12 is a prayerful plea for God to help us number our days and be wise with our time. Past 30 and having babies who grow too fast, I comprehend how fast time is passing; and I want my time and relationships to hold great meaning.

All day, every day, my mind is sifting the possibilities, overwhelmed with all the granules of possible defeat or glory. 

The conversation is between

• My past and future

• My most despicable failures and greatest potential

• My traditional roots and progressive branches

• My paralyzing fears and motivating hopes

• My most hateful resentment and merciful forgiveness

• My sin-captive temptations and untethered freedom

• What I know about myself and what I am afraid others think

• My limited, tiny-perspective self and all-powerful, -knowing, -creative Him

This is where the story is written. 

Life is practiced as it happens, not performed when ready.

Choices are made.

Relationships are formed.

Paths are forged.

Wisdom and knowledge can help us grow.

We may have to wait or prepare, but what happens in those wings holds the transformational meaning that gives purpose to the stages we cross.

I don’t want to be cowardly by giving into fear; but I don’t want to be reckless with blind optimism. 

I mustn’t be paralyzed in the meantime. Steps are falling into place, even if I don’t know where they lead, as I am anchored by foundational wisdom to defy gravity and stretch toward the skies.

Some scriptures ring in my head as I balance the truth that my heart can be deceptive and weak (Jeremiah 17:9) and that I was created in Christ to do good works (Ephesians 2:10). 

Genesis 1:27 — I am made in God’s image.

Galatians 5:1 — FREEDOM in Christ.

Romans 8:2

Romans 8:11

Romans 8:14-17

John 16:7 — Having the Spirit’s inner help is better than having Jesus here, His own words.

2 Timothy 1:7 — God gave me a spirit of power, love, and self-discipline, not timidity.

Mistakes will happen, but two steps forward will always beat one step back, even if less convenient or urgent than I’d prefer. 

Simply take the next right step.

Contemplation of Snow Day Smallness for Real Day Purpose

West Tennessee got more ice and snow than usual this month, and we were “snowed in” for the better part of a week. My husband works remotely for an online university from his home office, and I homeschool our first-grader, while keeping his 4yo brother meaningfully active, and the baby out of choking or icky places while he explores. The week had our typical household responsibilities, but it was more peaceful than usual, so much less stressful. I’ve been contemplating boundaries my whole life, somehow maturing as I discern and decide how to healthfully engage with the world around us, without losing control of when yes should be yes and no should be no, for my well-being as it affects the well-being of others. 

I have sensitively finite soul energy, which helps to make the mistakes more acutely effective for growing in what’s best. But I have to do a lot of solitary reflecting to manage it.  And I have to constantly ask God to help me grow as a healthy vessel of His purpose, instead of retreating into a totally self-centered safe place. Relationships with healthy boundaries are a dynamic, fluid process — this exchange of skills and resources, personalities, as we empower ourselves to empower those we love and the ones God calls us to help, can't be a concrete system of static answers.

We love so many and are loved by so many. And so many people we love are dealing with emergencies of various sorts in this season of life. Death, surgery, illness, moving, finances We are in those moments at times, and we could never make it through them without the support of our village. We have a strong desire to pay forward what we could never have made it this far without. 

What I am trying to discern is the boundaries. Because not only could we spend 24/7 keeping our own four walls strong, but we could also run to the edge of the endless Earth helping people we love. 

How do we commit to what’s best when the overgrowth of needs makes it impossible to see clearly?

On top of the personal, practical love to do in our own spaces, we also have the rest of the globe at our texting/social media-ing fingertips, worrying how to deal with the needy from sea to shining sea, the ones across the oceans... and how to communicate with the people “in charge” as they don’t handle their control the way that we would. 

It’s exhausting. I go on a few hours of broken sleep, literally run a few miles a day, and keep up with my babies. My physical body I enjoy pushing. But my inner heart is just exhausted and lost. I am sure they’re not unconnected. But my point is that my compass, my purpose, feels faint and undetectable because the battery is so drained as the shell vibrates in unrest, wanting to connect but not sure how.

The snow days kept the world small, assured me of my responsibilities, affirmed what mattered. I didn’t have to spend any energy doubting. And I realized just how much energy that is when the snow incubated it from the outside. 

I am praying to discern my motivations for helping. 

If it’s because we are the first line of support in a close matter, then God give us the courage to help.

If it’s because God has answered the questions for matters close to our hearts, then please ready our feet to take the steps down Your path.

But if it’s because I want the other rats to see me trying to win the good deeds race of checked marks, then please help me let go as I trust you’ll entrust other more appropriate helpers for those situations.

If it’s because I am a smothering busy-body, wanting to care for the needs across town or the ocean, instead of the trash in my own backyard (mostly just figurative), then please help me to remember you have each body part in its place to do its part in this turning world. Our role/space matters, not more or less than anyone else’s.

Father, please show me which body part I am so I can wholeheartedly fill my role and not exhaust useless energy on these flailing worries about a world too complex for me to manage on my own.

Please simplify my purpose as you humble the control-freak, wannabe hero inside... with the intention of empowering the God-made instrument for Your Kingdom.

My husband, an adult child of an alcoholic, tells me the whole serenity prayer when I am (often) overwhelmed by all the needs within and without. Here it is. Say it out-loud. How peacefully it soothes the irritated roots of this heart issue:

"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,

the courage to change the things I can,

and the wisdom to know the difference,

living one day at a time,

enjoying one moment at a time,

accepting hardship as a path to peace,

taking, as Jesus did, the sinful world as it is, 

not as I would have it,

trusting that you will make all things right,

if I surrender to your will, 

so that I may be reasonably happy in this life

and supremely happy with you forever in the next."

Reinhold Neibuhr

2017 :: Our Teacher of Overcoming

As 2017 ends, Justin and I have been praising God for HIS faithful goodness. Our year has had extreme happiness and extreme sorrow and everything in between. We have handled some of it well and some of it poorly, as well as a range of character traits in between. We thank Jesus for the kind, patient, brave freedom He has provided for us to grow into the hearts He has cleansed through all.the.adjustments. That's the message we want all to hear! 2017 has proved to us in clearer ways that with God at our helm, being our True North in overwhelming times, we really can overcome struggles -- and struggles aren't pretty or scripted, and that is the way it is. We will enter 2018 with much growth left to do through unknown times of emotional heights and depths, but we are also kinder, braver, stronger, and more deeply joyful than ever before.

In July I drove from Tennessee to Oklahoma and back with our 5-month-old to see The Pioneer Woman's Mercantile store. I did not expect she would be there to meet. Wow! She is as kind as she seems!
Not the most important part of our year, but definitely a fun moment that portrays the courage I am finding to be myself.
(Adventuring alone and traveling out West is a big part of me. Ha!)

I am going to recap our year as briefly as possible. 

• The happiest part of the year was the birth of our third child at the end of February. We are unspeakably thankful God chose us to be the parents of three mighty, darling boys. We could not have imagined or chosen better for our life than what God has given. The challenges and rewards of parenting alongside God's grace are the marrow of our existences.

• The saddest part of the year, probably the lowest of our lives, was losing my husband’s father in July. He took his own life. This event affects so many deeply, and I don’t feel worthy to say much about it here because of the sensitive nature. But we are so thankful for the people who support us and pray for us. Please keep my mother-in-law in your prayers, as her life will continue to require a lot of adjustments that seem gigantic in a grievous, soul-draining time. She is a sincerely strong person. 

• Homeschool — in January, we chose to enroll our then-kindergartener in a private school, after I homeschooled him during the fall semester. I was very pregnant with our third child, and the depression and anxiety I’ve fought my whole life were knocking us all down. We are so thankful for opportunities and means to adjust certain steps when the needs arise. Bridger does well wherever he is, and he thrived in that environment of friends and leadership. However,  we are homeschooling again for this first-grade year. I obsess about how every little thing I don’t know how to do or don’t do well affects who he’ll be as a man... but this year is going better. We will pray and decide with each school year what is best for the qualities and meaning we hope to cultivate in our relationships with our kids as they meet the world. I pray even more than I obsess about it... Lots of growing left to do!

• My husband’s work continues to amaze me. He works for an online university as his full-time job, and he has a successful baseball card business that he runs on the side. I can’t thank him enough for putting the competency God gave him with business matters (an amazing wonder to me—lol) together with the joy of his hobby and lots of early mornings and late nights to support our debts, expenses, and hopes. Check out Burl’s Sports, if you’re interested.

• I have running goals and writing goals that are still blurry as I test my thrice post-partum strength and abilities through the demanding attention and energy required be Mommy. I am learning how to be kind to myself. Because no one dislikes me more than I do. But I am truly grasping how short my time here is, and God has shown me possibilities that excite me for reaching people with my weirdness -- and soaking up His gifts. Lots of prayer and journey... 

• We have a wonderful local church family, as well as so many people all over from our past who continue to show us how to love like God in little and big ways. So many of you wonderful brothers and sisters in Christ have loved us through our ignorance, immaturity, and youth toward becoming more like Jesus... we know this will be the case, no matter our age, and many of you have showed us how we want to pay it forward. This locally includes my mom, stepdad, and my sister and her precious family; and Justin's family a few hours away. We are very blessed. Part of me has always wanted to live alone in a tipi on a mountain because relationships are hard... Learning how to be strong, wise, and kind -- and to let others do the same, without codependency -- important work. So many of you are continuing to show me, with the Spirit’s whispers of meaning, how rich friendship and companionship are. I haven’t felt this safe and courageous about this kind of thing before. I am soberly thankful.

The future will hold darkness and light, evil and good, happiness and sorrow; we are ready for it (as we pray and seek continually). 

Learning how to Feast on the Fruits of the Spirit, not Control Them

“Fruitfulness” was my unofficial word for 2017. Words meld with my soul to help me through internal tedious reflections and significant moments. I am thankful God uses them so creatively to guide me, even when my misconceptions point me in wrong directions. When last year ended, I was in a deep depression on top of chronic anxiety, pregnant with our third child and scared of my weaknesses through stress, feeling incredibly guilty I felt so empty when God had given me so much. I was obsessed (a term not used lightly) with my misunderstanding of the Spirit’s fruit inside my soul. I wanted to control that fruit, and I loathed myself for failing at it. The way I was looking at it, because of my interpretations of many sermons about Galatians 5:22-23, I thought incorrectly (and absurdly) that my control of God’s fruit (Hah!) was the equivalent of little old Nicoll walking up to a new apple tree to make it instantly mature and full of pie-making fruit with a snap of my wishful fingers. Just like that.

I am the tree in that metaphor, and 

Love

Joy

Peace

Patience

Kindness

Goodness

Faithfulness

Gentleness

Self Control

are the pieces of the magical Spirit fruit salad. I thought it was supposed to be simple as picking fruit up at the store (reading God’s list of fruits and acknowledging the goodness, desiring it) and ... voila! Good Nicoll, always and forever. BUT THAT IS NOT HOW IT WORKS!

Learning more about psychology through many personal counselors has also revealed my cognitive distortion about the nature of my feelings (which are usually not as pretty as those things listed above...) I thought my feelings were the essence of my soul. And since my feelings weren’t always good, I assumed I was a bad fruit, a useless and rotten waste. Nope. Nope nope nope. NOPE! Feelings, thoughts, and behaviors are connected *but separate* parts of us that help us progress out of ourselves into the world around us: 

Feelings can’t be controlled because they’re just responses to the world around me. They yield useful information about how we adjust to everything, so they shouldn’t be ignored. I touch fire, it hurts, and I don’t like it, so I won’t do that again. That’s natural. Someone disrespects my boundaries or gets too close, and I don’t like one doing that. Natural preservation instincts aren’t indicators of an evil heart. It doesn’t mean I am a horrible waste of Jesus’s sacrifice. (Drama intended to reveal absurdity.) But I also don’t have to avoid fire or imposing people just because the first encounter was marred by inexperience. I get to progress by changing my interaction with the world around me as I learn what works and what doesn’t work. My first thought may be out of my control, but the ones afterward can be chosen for focus and edification, instead of isolation and bitterness (through tedious and continuous intention); and behaviors can be chosen through courageous discipline for the well-being of myself and others in God’s will.

A message I want to repeat for effect is that none of this is an instant answer for arrival at a concrete script for perfect interaction. As long as I have breath in my body, unveiling my feelings about new experiences and relationships, and then sifting through my wounds and motivations so I can work to build up Christ’s Kingdom in my heart for blessing those I love for God’s glory, will be my purposeful journey of lifelong learning.

Because I was obsessed with something as significant as God’s fruits in my character and life, I took it (way too) seriously. I look(ed) at it all wrong, and it was magnifying my self-loathing and doubt in God’s power. So poisonous.

Big news: It’s NOT my fruit. 

I am not creating the fruit.

The outcome of the fruit is not mine.

The fruit is the Spirit’s.

What is my role in this fruit that I desperately desire? The metaphor of gardening helps me through this soul nourishment. No matter how well I garden, the creation of the seeds is never in my control, and the weather that affects the harvest is also beyond me. The way I engage with the Spirit in this process as He produces fruit is what affects me. He is inviting me to help Him prepare a feast that I get to enjoy with Him, not expecting me to achieve master gardening on my first (or millionth) attempt for superfluous reasons. The productivity matters, but it’s not the point. And it’s not *my* achievement.  Getting to know Him as He gets to know me, while we work together is where His creative power meets my character.

• Collecting — Before I plant a garden, I collect seeds I want to grow. Where do I find the Spirit’s seeds? Soul seeds are biblical knowledge (inspired by (drumroll, please) the Spirit of God), collected through personal study of His Word and the cultural and historical perspectives of those times combined with our perspectives now, communal study, writings of thought leaders, and personal observation and meditation of lives and choices in my story. One of the best things a minister ever told me is that we can never know everything the Bible has to teach us, even if we have the whole Book memorized... because it’s alive and active with human history, always revealing new truths about God’s love and our need to abide in Him as we progress throughout this world. 

• Cultivating — This phase is where we prepare healthy soil, tediously weed annoying and destructive plants that choke the fruit, and give water and nutrients as needed to the growing. This is where personal honesty and getting to know myself are significant. What builds me up? What tears me down? What personal boundaries do I need to become a healthy and productive vessel for Christ’s expression? Why do I keep losing my temper, feeling discouraged, making the same poor choice in similar situations? What can I change? My physical health? My mental/emotional health? What do I need to fight for? What do I need to surrender? This part of my work in the Spirit requires the most daily reflection and application of trial and error. This is where hard work and patience with repetitive tasks are significant... just like those pesky weeds that pop up in the same place they were picked from yesterday. And the most important thing to remember here is that God is okay if we aren’t perfect gardeners. He understands we needs seasons and years to apply the things we slowly learn. He just wants us to spend time in the garden, engaging with Him as we work. 

• Waiting — Sigh. Nothing grows overnight (except weeds). Don’t give up when it seems nothing is happening, just like mighty and barren trees in the winter (that will pass), for you will reap a harvest when spring and summer arrive. (Galatians 6:9)

• Harvesting/Consuming — This is my favorite part of my role in the Spirit’s fruit. Eating it! I feel like self control is the umbrella over all the other fruits for me. Sometimes I need to make better choices in my attitude, and sometimes I need to discipline myself to accept peace and love when my pride would rather storm through not-my-business-to-remove obstacles and prove heroic. This is where I choose patience when my kids take forever getting out the door (again. and again. and again.); it takes *daily repetition* of learning that yelling doesn’t help and it feels awful afterward. This is where I choose joy and make the most of a bad situation I would rather not experience; to get close enough to know others and find the appropriate humor or sorrow or comfort in a place that is sad and tense. This is where I go to a quiet place and find peace when I am overwhelmed and know my only responses will be emotionally irrational behaviors; taking a breather is better than storming through the house griping at everyone. The Spirit puts all these delicious fruits for our taking... and, like some real food that is healthier than others, it may take some getting used to and making mistakes to understand that broccoli (which I actually love now) is going to make me stronger and cleaner than a Sonic blast with M&Ms and Oreos... If I just lost you, this metaphor is for our spiritual well-being, not physical (although I believe the two can aid each other). That was just a metaphor for how patience may be hard to swallow, but in time I have come to realize it makes the Kingdom more pleasant than losing patience about a fleeting moment of lateness (again). 

• Preserving — In this world of seasons, natural times happen when fruit isn’t going to grow because the climate oppresses nourishment and blossoming. The same thing happens to us with changing circumstances. I am learning how to build up strength in times of harvest to carry me through times of winter. This is where my delusions of Spiritual fruit control prove to die hard. I think the Spirit stores good things away in our spirits as we engage with Him through all the times, good and bad, and He pulls the right memories/words/people/situations out of the pantry when we need them most. I can write things down to remember, or keep songs in my head that affect my heart... but I don’t have a lot of answers other than learning to listen for Him in a relaxedly acute way (especially when I call for rescue in desperate winter winds). 2 Cor 4:16-18

• Sharing — Which fruits to share? When people are in my presence, I hope they’ll leave stronger and braver and kinder than before. And that’s how I hope to be after spending time with others. This part requires a lot of practice and forgiveness. Working on self-awareness and analyzing how people may have perceived something I said or did requires a healthy balance of accepting responsibility for how I affect people and surrendering that I can’t control how people feel in their own insecurities. But I can always try to be an empowering and positive presence, instead of a negative or damaging one. Finding ways to be useful and helpful, comforting or encouraging, also requires balancing the sacrifice of selfishness and the wisdom of self-care to build each other up in a God-glorifying way. 

God has invited everyone to a wedding feast, and we, His children, get to help Him prepare the party and bring in the guests. We are very welcomed and cherished children, as we are members of His glorious household. (Ephesians 2:19; Revelation 19:6-9) Looking at the fruits as the product of His creation, as we work together on the celebration, helps me work (and play) more fruitfully. Because I can’t create fruits. And I know I’ll burn my treads trying. 

My Affirmative Take on _The Last Jedi_

Things I loved about The Last Jedi

SPOILER ALERT. Do not read this post unless you (want to) know about the latest Star Wars episode, The Last Jedi.

Writing about Star Wars makes me nervous. Some fans are interested in the special effects, some in the tone of specific characters, some in the advancement of the plot, some in the relationship of each episode to the originals of the late ‘70s/‘80s. The part of each episode, very present in all, that gets the blood of my soul pumping is the conflict between good and evil roiling inside characters and across the galaxy, so I can roll with specific details in a generally optimistic way. If you are the type of Star Wars fan who has a stick up your wormhole, you likely won’t take me seriously. I hope you find relief somewhere in the galaxy! May the force be with you!

• Old Luke — I thought the lines and directed attitude of this old hermit, out-of-touch with anyone or anything except his fears and regrets for years, was spot-on with the stubborn, headstrong young man of decades ago. His perspective of what happened when Kylo Ren destroyed the temple touched me. His heart was damaged by his doubt in his “sister’s child” affecting his nephew in such a way. As a sister and an aunt, that held a lot of weight for me about how and why a Jedi Master would run away and hide when the Dark Side had seized Ben Solo’s heart. And then his interaction with Leia before he faced Kylo Ren on Crait? And then how he handled Kylo’s volatile, childish, untethered wrath, brushing off his shoulder... hahahahaha! I was proud of his last effort. And I really hope the next episode has the spirits of Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, Anakin, Yoda, and Luke guiding Rey. Please, movie people, please?

• The burning of the tree & texts — This part made me uncomfortable at first. The way everything in our culture becomes a war, instead of a creative stroke of communication toward progress, had me initially worrying that they were saying we should burn the Bible. (Unconnected, illogical cognitive distortion... yup!) But, no-no-no. When Spirit Yoda and Luke had that conversation about what’s inside of Rey moving the next generation past the masters before, I saw so much of Jesus ridiculing the Pharisee’s idolatry of tradition in that moment. And Rey kept all the texts — Did you catch that at the end, in the drawer of the hospital bed? The text IS an important foundation—the tree grows out of it, and out of ashes. I have no idea of the Star Wars writers use the Jedi mythos alongside Christian faith, but I obviously get a lot out of those associations. I know I annoy people. But I know I’m loved anyway. (Cute face with hands framing my chin.)

• The emotions between Kylo and Rey — The way Adam Driver portrays emotional turmoil has me fangirling. The bridge Snoke conjured between the two of them, and the connection they had over their relationship to their parents and the force ... and then the defeat of Snoke, and then Kylo’s deceptive motive ... I was literally jumping in my seat through the feels of triumph and despair. Sigh. Driver and Daisy Ridley did an excellent job with the heart and body of that intense action scene. Can I see it again now, please!? We all have a place we came from. And we all have a choice in where we will go. I can’t decide if I feel disappointed or satisfied that Snoke ended so anti-climactically. Will we gain more perspective about who he was to add depth to his defeat? Or is there meaning in his unexpectedly lackluster end?

•The salt planet, Crait. Did anyone else’s adoration of metaphorically- and aesthetically-pleasing art feel giddy about the war scene on this white planet of salt with red soil bleeding through with every mark made by man or machine (except Spirit Luke)? Wow! I couldn’t get enough of that creativity. And then, to top it off, those crystal foxes, vulptex—these are so much more than just bubble-gummy glitter creatures. Crystal creatures would totally evolve and thrive on a mineral planet. Back off, haters, and think creatively. Or don’t. 

• Admiral Haldo and Rose — I am a big fan of all the female empowerment happening in our culture, even though some specific attention makes me uncomfortable. Because I am also a big fan of male empowerment. Build each other into kinder, more courageous versions of ourselves. All of us. But I loved Laura Dern’s strong, beautiful, aged, courageous, bold-even-in-doubt, purply character. She makes me look forward to 60! And Rose, the adorably strong mechanic with a heart of gold, made me happy too. I also get uncomfortable around animal-rights activism and anti-capitalist agendas, which I felt on Cantonica, the casino planet—but cruelty and greed ARE wrong. Making profits and thriving, or using animals in certain ways, is NOT wrong... but profiteering off war for the sake of greed, and treating animals terribly are not how God made us to use our thinkers and tools. So I talk myself trough that all-or-nothing thinking and find a lot of good progressive messages from Rose’s emotions related to Cantonica. I’m a good little conservative American girl, learning how to grow with the reality of a gray world. Just like Po, those women made me feel like a fighter for good! As do pretty much all the heroes in all the Star Wars episodes.

I could have done without the poor CGI-created creatures, porgs, on Luke’s island. They were unnecessary. I say this as a fan of Ewoks — just stop trying to match them, please. As a currently lactating mother, I actually felt uncomfortable with the sea cow Luke drank from — but Rey’s revulsion helped me deal with my own. Even though I did like getting a glimpse of Leia’s Jedi Powers, I thought her space flight was weird. Less would have been more in that situation. 

And I have been thinking about it... but I think Kylo Ren was lying to Rey about her parents being nothing but drunk junk traders. He was planning to manipulate her. And his weakness is a strong bloodline, so he thought the lure of his own would appeal to her in that choice? She had memories of being left behind on Jakku. And it seems like a spaceship left her there, which sounds different than being neglected by intoxicated junk traders. I dunno. I obviously like the idea that greatness can come from nothing. But I just don’t think her ancestry is a finished mystery yet. And her facing the multiple frames of herself in the reflective surface in that dark pit... I can’t figure that out. Discussion?