re-focus

There’s undeniably something on my mind tonight.

Maybe it’s because as I write this, my husband and oldest son are off for a guy’s night out, talking about what it means to be a real man in today’s world. Maybe it’s because of the funeral we attended this past weekend for my husband’s uncle who died of cancer. Or maybe it’s because of what happened to me a week ago, Saturday night.

We were supposed to be enjoying a pizza dinner out with my parents before they headed back to Oklahoma for a few months. I should have loved the food. I should have loved the company even more. But I couldn’t enjoy either because my heart was burdened; and my thoughts were somewhere else. I left the table empty in more ways than one.

We hugged, said our goodbyes and the usual, “I love you’s.” They pulled away as I slipped into my seat in the car, thankful to be back in my own private thought world. It was about that time the tears began to form.

I was sad because they were leaving. I was sad because they were traveling so far away. But I was the saddest about something else.

I was sad because in that one hour I had let something get in my way of focusing on some of the people in my life that matter most. It was something that didn’t deserve my focus. It was something that wasn’t helpful for me to give time and energy to. It was something that took me away – if just mentally – from what was really important. And in a matter of less than 2 minutes, I went from being sad to being mad at myself for allowing it into my mind and life.

What this and the other two things I mentioned at the top of this post have reminded me of in the past week is how easily I can forget about what truly deserves the attention and focus in my life. Maybe you can relate.

As I sit at my desk and write this, I am less than a foot away from a picture of three amazing young people who live in my house with my husband and me. Together, we are trying to raise them to be world changers. That is not only a high privilege, but also a daunting task, and it deserves my focus.

On the other side of my desk sits another picture. It’s of two people with their faces smushed together, smiling widely for the camera. These two people have journeyed in life together for 15 years. To be married that long is almost a miracle. To be married 15 more will be another. I don’t take my marriage lightly or what it takes to make it thrive. It deserves my focus.

Within reach of my left hand rests my Bible. It’s got a few too many worship guides stuck in it and it’s a little beat up, but it’s mine. It’s gotten me through many a morning, day and night. It represents my relationship with Jesus and how He speaks to my heart. That relationship, more than anything else, deserves my focus.

Yet I find that it is the unhealthy things that often steal that focus away. Things I can’t change. Comparisons with others. Words that hurt. People who drain. Things I look at, taste and touch that dirty my heart. Relationships that aren’t real. Things I don’t need and can’t take with me but think I can’t do without.

It took a few days and the three things I mentioned to give me that jolt to remind me of what is real in my life and what I want to be about.

~Aligning my life with Jesus so that like me or not, people cannot deny His presence in my life.

~Remembering what is true and good and pursuing only that.

~Soaking up opportunities to influence people towards something more than themselves.

Tonight, I look around me and see very clearly the things that deserve my focus. I pray not, but tomorrow I may forget. But if I do I need not look any further than things that sit right under my nose and within inches of my right and left hands.

God’s given me plenty to do.

spotlight living

{As my new inspirational entry is running today on the Proverbs 31 She Seeks site, I feel sure that I am welcoming some new readers to my blog. Thanks for stopping by...sign up to get updated posts...and please, come back soon! And if you haven't yet been to www.sheseeks.org, pop over there today to get my take on New Year's Resolutions and see what cool things God is doing through our ministry.

With the new year upon us and the idea of opportunity for a fresh start, I was reminded of an article I wrote in a past issue of the Women of Faith's Connection Magazine called Spotlight Living. With their permission, I post it here. I pray something in it will inspire you in some way as you begin 2010...}

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Technically, I’ve been walking in the light for nearly 30 years. Technically.

But the truth of the matter is that despite the fact that I became a Christian at the ripe old age of 6, my “light” was not shining very bright until about 7 years ago. In fact, though I had the words to the song “This Little Light of Mine” memorized, my light was not illuminating very well at all. Flickering, really, at best.

Like so many women, I was living my life as a small little nightlight, rather than a big, bright shining, spotlight. Truthfully, it’s where many of us currently reside.

It’s not that we want to live our life as a small side table nightlight. The truth is, we’d much rather make it onto the big stage of life, shining proudly and brightly for all to see. But our fears and comfort zones often keep us in a place of darkness, blending in with all the other dark-dwelling people of the world. Dimmed by our own expectations, our lives consist of whatever we think someone else wants us to have, be or do. We are so paralyzed by our own insecurities that being salt and light to others is not always on our radar screens. Instead, we are just trying to make it through the day while holding it all together. In which case, those walking around in darkness do not see light and hope in our eyes, but instead see the same emptiness they, themselves, feel. As a result, they don’t find anything in us worth changing their life over.

Spotlight living attracts people to its illuminations. It draws people in. It stands out in the crowd…causes people to take notice…and interests others to the point that they begin asking questions. Where a nightlight is hardly noticed, a spotlight is highly noticeable. It is the life that impacts others in a big way.

Spotlight living represents a life that is set free by the power of pretense. It symbolizes a life that has journeyed past being comfortable and content with being a simple nightlight. It is a life that hopes, believes, cares, and trusts. It is a life of total surrender and complete fulfillment.

But spotlight living does not come without a cost. Spotlight living requires genuineness and authenticity. It demands truth telling and freedom craving. True, for believers, the light that is within us is Jesus Christ. But if it is not well within our soul we can’t show that light to others. We might want to shine brightly, but our pretense and perfectionism will overshadow our efforts every time.

In a world full of people walking around in darkness, nightlight living simply won’t do the trick. Only when we discover who we are, who we are meant to be, and where our giftedness lies, can we move past the nightlight stage to the bright lights of spotlight living. Then and only then can we get our “shine on” for those around us to see.

I don’t know about you, but I like the idea of being a bright spot in someone else’s life. I think I’ve been a nightlight long enough.

Intervention

I am not too proud to admit that I sometimes get discouraged and afraid.

Some days, it’s just hard. Some days I feel good. But still, on other days, I feel like pulling the covers over my head in the morning and pretending that not getting out of bed is a viable option for me.

Sometimes I get emails that say things I want to hear and make me feel good. Other times I get emails that cause me to cry or become frustrated, maybe even angry.

Sometimes I feel successful with my family. Other times I feel like I have failed at nearly every responsibility with these 4 people I have ever been given.

Some days, I feel compelled and inspired to write. Other days I have enough sense to know I need to stop my fingers from typing something I have no business sharing with anyone but God.

Some moments I see what God is doing, and I don’t even need glasses. Other moments I have no concept of what He might be trying to do and I wonder why He doesn’t see that I am not cut out for the deal He’s got me in.

I hope you can relate to me. Otherwise, I am more blitzed than I think I am.

I won’t lie: the times when I am feeling like Plans A – Z haven’t worked out for me, my Bible becomes my lifeline. My prayers get amped up. I look for God more – maybe even desperately so – in every day things. I get more demanding of His presence in my life. Otherwise, I can’t hold on.

If my email inbox is any indication, I think we are on the same page. One of the emails I got this week was from a friend whose daughter is hurting over a love she feels she won’t ever get over. Another was from a young woman who lost her mom not even 8 weeks ago and doesn’t understand why she resents God for it. Yet another was from someone who is having a tough time hanging on to life, in general.

I got a CaringBridge update on my friend, Kris, who has cancer. He’s struggling, still. It drove me to pray for him, the very second I got it.

I got a rejection email, even though it didn’t say that in the subject line. But I have read through the lines before. Say it nice or say it not nice, it’s still a rejection. And rejections hurt, no matter how they come.

Listen, friend…this is my life. It is the good, bad, ugly and everything in between. Yet, I resist things that I don’t like with every fiber of my being because I am naturally drawn to pleasure and not pain. Thus far in my life, I’ve never met anyone who isn’t.

When I am wrought with feelings of discouragement or fear, invariably, I travel back to the same conclusion as last week, last month, last year. And that is that life is not easy because it’s not meant to be easy. Life is an ebb and flow – full of beautiful things and things that almost literally inhale our soul.

If we are believers, we say we love God. We say we need God. But when life is a DisneyWorld vacation, we tend to shelve those particular things and tell God we’ll talk to Him later. We are much too busy buying things, riding things, seeing things, experiencing things and trying things to have a one-on-one with Someone who isn’t available for autographs or photo ops.

We can’t touch God or see Him, so we grab at those things we can.

But when those things crumble in front of us, we are forced to finally face Him.

It’s in that moment that we are finally available to have a divine interaction with the Most High.

It is the most desperate place to be. It is the most raw and most real. It is the most effective. It is when we stop thinking of God only when we need a close parking place at the Mall and instead, desperately grab onto His collar and beg Him to come and invade our discouraged and fearful life.

Glory to God for sticking around for those moments we need an intervention. Praise Him for giving us things that bring us to recognize we even have that need in the first place. Bless His name, for as long as we have breath in our body, we have the ability to worship our Rescuer.

In the end, as in the beginning, that’s life.

Rich

If you saw my bank account, you would laugh at the title of this post. Without going into any great detail, let me assure you that finances have nothing to do with it. The economic mess we’re in as a country has not fallen short of affecting the Whittle family. Trust me. (Unless, of course, you consider $2.56 a lot of money to have in the bank.)

But despite my current financial status, I am feeling really wealthy these days. Surplus-laden. Downright filthy rich.

Honestly.

And it’s not just a cute play on words or because of the holiday season we are in, either. I love Thanksgiving, but it mainly centers around the fact that I am a girl who loves her food, and I get into the turkey, cranberry sauce, and deviled eggs. I mean, the truth of the matter is that it kind of gets on my nerves that people suddenly start becoming really thankful the month of November. It’s as if we need cornucopias, fake butternut squash, and pictures of pilgrims eating family style at a big wooden table to remind us that we are way more blessed than we should be.

Instead, I find that circumstances often do more for me in the thankfulness category than a seasonal holiday. Things sometimes happen in my life that remind me to see the things around me and love them for their value rather than allow them to continue to be invisible to my senses. I have made no bones about the fact that I am super hard-headed. So it usually takes circumstances on a spiritually-nuclear level to bring me to the point of which I write about – the point of recognizing that my life is really, super rich.

A circumstance, as of late, has brought that needed clarity to my life, once again. Over the past few days I have found myself re-visiting my life scrapbook and appreciating what is on its pages. Here are some of my thoughts about it, in no particular order…

I am rich because for the first time in my life I don’t want to be 21, again. I see the great value in my life experiences and appreciate the wisdom they have afforded.

I am rich because I am ok with the fact that I am not a size 4…or 6…or even, 8. I like myself and won’t be so consumed with staying the size Hollywood says I should be that I compromise my spiritual, mental or physical well-being to do it.

I am rich because I am beginning to hate what is evil and cling to what is good. I’ve come a long way to be able to say that and it be true.

I am rich because I don’t have to anesthetize myself with over-eating, over-exercising, over-shopping, over-drinking, over-volunteering, or over-achieving in order to be able to deal with life.

I am rich because the other day I heard my 12-year old son call me “mom,” and it was as if I was hearing it for the very first time. It made me smile and think about the fact that something I always wanted to be, I now am.

I am rich because after 14 years I pursue holding my husband’s hand now more than I ever have. And that, friends, qualifies as a miracle. :)

I am rich because I live in a breathtakingly beautiful city, where the Master Artist spent some of His best ability painting. Even more, I like the fact I appreciate the beauty.

I am rich because I embrace life more these days. I enjoy new experiences and not having to control them like I used to want to.

I am rich because I get to do life with some of the most amazing people I have ever known – which may include laughter, tears, raw conversations about God or all of the above.

I am rich because I understand where I am in my life. I get what it’s all about. I’m good with where I have been. I trust where I am going is taken care of, even if I don’t know exactly what that looks like.

I am rich because I am not afraid to get hurt nearly as much as I used to be. I have been rejected, disappointed and generally misunderstood before and lived through it. I may have even thrived because of it.

Most of all, I am rich because I finally see how much I need God. I long to be rocked to my core, as long as I can have His presence in my life. I never want to be the girl who doesn’t feel or experience but lives with a safe and neatly gift-wrapped life.

Being wealthy might be nice. But today, I could not feel better off. My stash is overflowing because I have the ability to actually see it in front of me. How very rich…I am.

Child-Like

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Once again, one of my children has been a catalyst for self-analysis in my life.

It happened this morning when I went to get my daughter up and out of bed.
Before she had even cracked her sleepy eyes open, her mouth started moving. These were the words that came out of it:

“Mom, this is the day that the Lord has made. I will rejoice and be glad in it.”

Immediately, my heart began to stir. I was tired. Some things were weighing on me. But at the same time, her words resonated somewhere deep within me, where I longed to go and camp out for awhile.

It is the place where good things like faith and love and hope reside. It is the place where simple is better and less is more and naivety is a gift. It is the place where God is love and that is enough for me to want to share it with others. It is a place that has no real understanding of what people are capable of, and that is ok. It is the place where I am not over burdened, burnt out or jaded. It is a place of safety and trust – housing no control issues and no ulterior motives.

It is where a child resides because they haven’t lived long enough to be messed up by the crud of the world. It’s where my daughter currently lives, as evidenced by the joy felt in her words about her favorite day of the week.

It didn’t take much self-reflection to understand what God was saying to my heart…

“Love me like a child, Lisa. Remember what it’s like to rejoice over the simple.“

I know I can’t go back to being 7, again. Life has happened in front of my very eyes, and suddenly, today I become a woman of 38. But the ability to become open and willing and eager and joyful and optimistic is mine to claim. These things are possible, simply because Jesus is my source of life. Circumstances around me don’t have to change for me to saturate myself in the fact that I am a child of God, He loves me, and the day I have today is a gift, plain and simple.

Though the world isn’t always safe.

Though my relationships aren’t always easy.

Though words hurt, my body gives out, rejection happens and there are things I can’t control.

This is the day He has made. My daughter says it is reason enough to rejoice, and I happen to believe her.

Re-defining

Two days ago, standing in my kitchen, God spoke a word to my heart…

“Re-defining.”

I have been thinking about it ever since.

I’m not all that smart, but I can take a hint when I hear one. Clearly, God has noticed that I have mis-labeled myself somewhere along the way and He needs to make some adjustments.

I get it. I feel it.

Listen, everyone says they hate labels. I am no different. I dislike professional bios for people like me for that very reason. It becomes, then, the unspoken thing of either “this is what I do and you don’t” or “this is who I am and base my identity on.” In either case, I don’t like it. I understand the reason behind it, but I don’t like it. It feels like a label to me.

But if I’m honest I have to admit that I been labeled a million times over, sometimes by myself and other times by others. Here are just a few of the nametags I have worn through the years…

Hi, my name is Lonely.
Hi, my name is Shame.
Hi, my name is Popular.
Hi, my name is Insecure.
Hi, my name is Fat.
Hi, my name is Confident.
Hi, my name is Fun.
Hi, my name is Controversial.
Hi, my name is Dumped.
Hi, my name is Reckless.
Hi, my name is Misunderstood.
Hi, my name is Fearless.

I could go on.

As I look back at these labels, I see where none of them have been particularly helpful to me. They were based on things I felt at the time and may or may not have been justified or been caused by my actions or reactions. What I’ve learned is that sometimes people label others unfairly. And sometimes (though unfairly), those labels stick.

But I have to also be honest enough to say that more often than not, we label ourselves. We decide that we are one way and we plant ourselves there. We determine the way we act on a daily basis by the label we give ourselves, even when it’s not a very good idea and doesn’t get us very emotionally far.

I will be the first to raise my hand and admit that for myself.

With this word, “re-defining” that God so clearly spoke to my heart, I know He is trying to tell me to stay the course, as He is in the process of re-defining who I am. But in order to let Him do that, I have to stop thinking of myself as who I was, who others think I am, or who I have always been. It is a clearing of the heart and mind of a “definition” of myself to allow Him to “re-define” me for His glory and purpose on this earth.

It’s tough, because old habits die hard.

Labels stick.

And people like to define things.

But the bottom line is that many of us, myself included, desperately need to be re-defined by Him. We need to stop putting labels on ourselves and let Him determine who we need to be. That may mean that we lose the desire to be popular over being holy. That may mean we let go of the need to be heard or seen. That may mean that we are ok with not playing a role for people that they have come to expect or count on. It may result in us dipping into waters unknown and garage-saleing our identity based on a job or life role or even, painful past experience. I don’t know what all it means.

But if it means what I think it means, then freedom from labels is right around the corner for those of us who are interested.

When I think of it that way, continuing to define myself doesn't make much sense.

So as I write this, I praise God for His amazing ability to “re-define”...and that He's interested enough in me to take on the challenge of removing all my labels. May we all rest in His ability to do more with our lives than we can possibly imagine, including re-defining what has always been who we thought we were.

nothingness.

Last Sunday, I did something really spiritual.

I went to a local woman’s home named Joanie and fed 35 fellow Charlotteans who are homeless. I didn’t take my usual Sunday afternoon nap that day, nor did I go home after church and slip into my track pants and husband’s baggy t-shirt, as is my custom. Instead, I slopped food into compartmentalized Styrofoam plates that clearly exceeded their weight limit.

But before you award me the “Most Likely to Become Spiritual” award and start clapping and cheering for me, let me just tell you the gut-level truth.

I really didn’t want to go.

I was having one of those days. I was tired and weary, if not borderline sick. I was emotionally drained and spiritually dry. I really didn’t have anything to give, and the last thing I wanted to do was go and give some more.

The. Last. Thing.

But it was more than just that.

I think you should know that I am really lame when it comes to serving people. Super lame. Not only is it not my spiritual gift, but it is also not something I am used to doing…ashamed, as though, I am to admit it. I’ve lived many years in a comfortable pew without being asked to do very much for God…and honestly, I’ve liked it that way.

I admire my believing-counterparts who have such ease with their service and have an acute sensitivity to the hurting. I wish I had their abilities in this area and could serve with such effortlessness. Instead, I am so lame when it comes to serving that I am a cross between an awkward middle schooler and a newborn fawn…totally insecure and completely self-conscious…and really wobbly when out of my safe and natural environment.

I could fill this post with many more details about last Sunday’s mission project. But you know the drill, I can imagine. I came, and I served food. I met some new faces and had some conversations. I was simultaneously convicted about how much I have and reminded of how important it is to do God’s work, no matter how it is presented to me. All of these things.

But on this particular day, what was most impactful to me was the 10 minutes between the informal backyard hellos and the slabs of store-bought carrot cake being hoisted onto plates of hungry people: Joanie’s message.

I’m not sure who Joanie had in mind when she prepared her message. I kind of doubt it was intended for me, especially since we had never met. And unless she was The Great Invisible Eavesdropping Woman, she wasn’t around when I whispered to God in the kitchen just moments prior… "Please, Lord. Say something I need to hear. Bring me a word from You. Because right now, I’ve got nothin.’ ”

Joanie spoke from Hebrews, and God spoke through her, straight to my heart. Here were her points, with my paraphrase and in no particular order…

Don’t quit.

Be grateful.

Trust God.

Have joy.

Live love.

A few minutes later, after the food was served and the service had wrapped, Joanie and I were in the kitchen. With tears in the brim of my eyes, I told her how much her message meant to me and how God had used her to speak to my heart. It was then that she turned to me and said something I didn’t expect… “I’m so glad, honey, because I didn’t have anything this morning. I told God, “you are gonna have to give me something because right now, I’ve got nothin.’ ”

The familiarity of her words surprised me...confused me...and comforted me, all at the same time. But one thing was for sure...I knew they were not uttered out of sheer coincidence because that is just not His style.

Even as I write this, I am reminded of Joanie’s words. And over a week later, they seem to be, yet again, right where I am.

Don’t quit. Over the past month, I’ve resigned my life like 3,000 times.

Be grateful. I have so much, yet I want another couple of things to decorate my house with.

Trust God. Wow. I think sometimes I’m better at almost anything else.

Have joy. I have had some serious pity parties lately.

Live love. I am a professional receiver and a farm-team giver.

Listen…I am a strong woman, but sometimes this faith journey kicks my butt. I’d like to believe I’m willing to live a million moments serving God, even if that means I feel really awkward and out-of-the-norm doing it.

But sometimes, that’s just not the case.

The thing is, I’m realizing that I have to first run out of things to say so He can actually speak through me. I’m understanding that when I am at the place where quitting seems like the most plausible option, there is newfound room for Him to give me a much better one.

It is the place of “nothingness.” And it is the place, I am learning, that I most need to be .