Getting My Guard Up, part 2

For the record, I am not a perfectionist.  I am not a control freak.  If I wasn't a Christian I probably would be both of those, but because of the Grace of God I am not.  

I do, however, like to do my very best when it counts.  For instance, keeping my house sparkling and spotless is not someplace it counts, although I do make sure my house is functional and clean-enough-to-not-encourage-the-spread-of-disease.  When writing for myself (i.e. this blog) I don't edit as judiciously as I do projects that involve other people.  I'm going with the stream of consciousness thing here. (And you wondered why I don't always make much sense.  Welcome to the chaos that is Mommy Brain.)

It's been two weeks since I posted about guarding my heart.  I am failing.  Sometimes I'm failing miserably and sometimes I do fairly well, but for all the newly-acquired insight I have obtained on the subject, the actual implementation is elusive. 

The Debbie Translation:  I need "a little less talk, a lot more action."  

To guard my heart I have to start with guarding my mind. 

WAY.  EASIER.  SAID.  THAN.  DONE.

Being as my brain is always going 976 mph, it's not easy to keep up.  I let my mind wander for a split second, my imagination ignites and I'm right back to where I started.  My current favorite facebook status, "Don't believe everything you think. It's bound to create problems that don't even exist," helps a lot, but it's still doesn't cover all the bases.

I'm totally understanding Paul here when he talks in Romans 7 about the interior war, the spiritual parts within us versus the earthly and sinful parts.  If Paul struggled with that, I'm going to as well, until death do I depart. 

I don't want to keep fighting the same battle day after day after day.  (No wonder cooking and cleaning are not among my favorite things.)  I want to have my heart well-protected yesterday. Then I can move on to other things.

*sigh*  It ain't happenin'.

Sometimes I am the Warrior Princess, slaying the dragons to protect myself and my family.  Other times I am the little girl hiding in the corner, discouraged and defeated.

All the time I am too hard on myself.  Doing my best does not mean I will always get it right (although obviously somewhere deep inside I think it should).  

I remind myself, here and now, that transformation takes time.  It's not a quick fix or instantaneous change. I can't undo forty years of wounds and negative patterns in two weeks.  And, although God can do that in me, He's choosing to heal and transform me a little bit at a time.

He continues to extend Grace and Mercy to me.  I need to extend some to myself. 

A Spoonful of Grace Helps the Judgement Go Down

Today I had the privilege of reading Heather's latest blog entry on freelybroken.blogspot.com.  In it she candidly shares her struggle with being judgmental.  I wanted to post a comment on her blog about what helps me in that area, but then I decided that, as long-winded as I can be, it might be better to blog on it myself.  

 

So what do I do to combat being judgmental?  (I use the word combat on purpose, because it is definitely a battle)  Two things that are closely related.

A)  In my experience, most of the time people hurt us unintentionally.  I can't take the offense (real or made up) personally.  The Rude Cashier didn't mean for the comment to sound so harsh.  The Stupid Driver didn't single me out to cut me off, I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.  My Friend didn't intend to make that horrible decision to aggravate me, something else must be going on in her life.  Don't take it personally.  Try to give the benefit of the doubt.  A little grace can go a long way.  

Even if we suspect what they did WAS intentional, what better way to diffuse it and make it stop than to let it roll off?  Truthfully, nothing gets my goat more than someone who won't fight with me when I want them to, but it does take two to tangle.  Yes, I will be a little perturbed that you're not going to be baited, but really, it will be so fun for you to watch my reaction.  (Okay, my human nature is coming out)  It's also helpful to remember Proverbs 19:11, A man's wisdom gives him patience;  it is to his glory to overlook an offense.   I usually have to quote it to myself early and often.

2) I remind myself that I do not have all the information on a person or situation.  For all I know, the Rude Cashier may just have learned that her mother is dying of cancer.  The Stupid Driver may be losing his job at the end of the week.  My Friend who made a stupid decision might be influenced by people or situations I know nothing about.  There is nearly always more to the story than I know at the time.

This is the way that I try to react when confronted with Rude Cashier:  "Wow, she seems to be having a bad day.  I wonder why?  Did I do something to contribute to it and need to apologize?  No.  Is there anything I can do to help turn her day around?  Yes.  I can be sure to smile at her and tell her 'Thank you.'  I can try to lighten the day with a funny observation.  Above all, I can pray for her, that God will meet her where she is right now and shine His light into her life.  That He would send His comfort and strength, wisdom and understanding into whatever situation she is facing today.  That I can be His hands and feet to her." 

I'll be the first (and loudest) to admit that I don't always succeed in this.  But I am trying to follow Romans 12:2 and "no longer conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of my mind."  Transformation takes both time and the power of the Holy Spirit. 

God overlooks the hundreds of times each day that I snub him.  He forgives me when I'm harsh with my kids and my husband.  He waits patiently when I cut Him off before He's finished talking to me.   The least I can do is try to extend that same grace to others.

Pearls

I have had a special place in my heart for pearls for as long as I can remember. My mother, to this day, wears a ring she received from her parents for her high school graduation, with two pearls set in gold. One of my earliest memories is admiring this ring. I received a pearl ring from my parents for my graduation, but I kept losing the pearls and so now I have it in a special box for safe keeping. I have various strands of pearls, both real and imitation, that I have acquired over the years, various lengths and various diameters for various occasions.
I also have a sensitivity to metal, and so it bothers my skin to wear most jewelry. Gold and silver chains itch my neck, and I may never get to wear earrings again. Even watchbands tend to bother me. But pearls, ah, I can wear pearls all the livelong day. And thanks to Coco Chanel, pearls are classic and still contemporary. Nothing says luxury to me like a long strand of pearls draped around a woman's neck...
But it wasn't until today that I realized their symbolism.
A pearl is formed when a foreign body embeds itself inside an oyster. The oyster coats the particle with a natural secretion, and over time the many layers of this coating become the beautiful gem. A thing of beauty with pain at its core.
How many "foreign bodies" have embedded themselves in my life? How many times have I cursed the pain, or asked God to take it away, or simply whined, "Why me?" But then I (usually, eventually) quit whining and walk through the pain, praying I learn the lessons I need to learn. Day by day, prayer by prayer, layer by layer, He transforms my pain into something beautiful. Maybe that beauty is character. Maybe it is a softened heart. Maybe it is knowledge. Very likely it is something that resembles... my favorite jewelry.
I'll never see pearls in the same way again.