It's a yucky feeling to be told that you are "too much."

Not rocket science here, this thought of mine, but I'm not sure if I've stopped to really pinpoint the cause of this tightening of my gut that happens fairly frequently when we're away from home. I like to be in control; pretty sure we've established this already. When you have four young ones, or children in general really, it's one long lesson of giving up the need to be in control because you frequently aren't. God is teaching me to be ok with that, to guide rather than control my kids and to relax and embrace the crazy sometimes. But not everyone is in the middle of that same lesson right now. And so when my kids are around and the crazy is in full force and I catch on to someone else's discomfort as a result, I take it personally.

I get it; I've got a lot of little people going all directions and rarely quiet. They exhaust me too. But still, when they actually make those feeling obvious they might as well just pin a note on me:"You fail!"

And so I am left in a place of lonely up-tightness. Really not a big deal, but just sad. In contrast comes to mind the few places and friends that are ok with our circus. They embrace the crazy with me, or even make me more able to do it because they don't mind. It's restful. And I'm grateful for such people.

So then I get to thinking, what feeling do I convey to those around me? I'm rather ;) introverted and as I said before, I like to be in control. I often have felt overwhelmed by crowds and commotion. But, if I allow my rising stress level to determine the way I'm relating to those around me...and then they are hearing me say that they are too much. And all of the sudden I get what a rotten feeling that is.

I think it's good to know my limits, but who says they have to determine how I treat people? And isn't Jesus in the very business of blowing down my human limits and getting me rooted in Him so that I can better love Him and others? Is it really ok for me to get grumpy because the crazy level has surpassed my mental comfort level? Or can I instead give myself a shake and say, "it's really not too much, let it go." Am I willing to give up a little quiet and control in order to better love people?

I've got to be. I don't want to create this yucky feeling in my kids or in anyone else that comes into my home. I want them to be able to relax around me, to know that they are welcome and wanted, no matter what circus acts they bring. That's what Jesus did: he had His quiet times but He also fully embraced the crowds that swarmed Him. And I want the growth this stretching will bring. Little me, on my own, gets easily overwhelmed and so it gives me the perfect opportunity to say "I've got nothing, Lord, love through me!"

"Therefore, Christian, Abide in Christ; Do it now."

I'm not sure I can yet completely untangle the thoughts in my head, but, as I have learned from our current 1st Grade studies, you retain better what you have to narrate back. So I am going to make the effort.

As I've been pondering grabbing hold of grace on a day to day basis, today Murray offered the best way to learn to abide in Christ was just to do it. Every moment, as it comes to mind, as you find yourself with a moment for clear thought, as you find yourself struggling with sin, as you are not struggling but have already dove in head first; stop and say in your heart, "I abide in You." Over and over again, practice this rest and preach this truth to yourself. Because we know, that if you are a Christian, you do abide: that is the very crux of salvation, Christ has rescued you from the pit and tucked you under His protective wing. Nothing you do keeps you there, but also nothing can separate you from His love and protection. You might not be living like you are abiding, but that place of rest is waiting for you to claim it. And it is a gift, pure grace that, even in the midst of sin you can stop and confess and return. You don't have to fix it first, only admit that it needs to be fixed, that you need to be fixed, and He will do the work.

And so,I have been begging for self-control and I keep thinking of "the fruit of the Spirit is....self-control." So I wonder, how does one take hold of this "fruit of the Spirit"? This morning I read where Christ says "Abide in me.I am the vine, you are the branches, apart from me you can bear no fruit." And I feel silly. He literally has to spell it out for me. How do I bear fruit? Abide in Him. Not try harder, not do and say the right things for longer this time. Abide. Rest. Let the Vine support my every need even while the Gardener does the pruning needed. I love direct answers.

My reading in "Abide in Christ" this morning was about God's day by day provision. In the desert He provided manna for the Israelites in such a fashion that they had to trust and be dependent on Him daily in order to make it through. In the same way, He provides grace to those who wait on Him in a day by day allotment. This requires me to come at the very least once a day and re-center myself in in His presence; realizing anew my own poverty and hopelessness and yet that I am complete in Christ.

In this train of thought I realized that there are two extremes of that I vacillate between and leave me stuck in sin and frustrated: 1. That this day is all important; I'm creating habits that I'll never get out of; I am a failure always be.
2. That I can cheat today; it's just once; I'll start over tomorrow.
To put it simply, I guess it's just that I either assign too much or too little importance to one day.

The truth is that today is not the end all. Tomorrow we get to start again and His mercies are new every morning. At the same time, the choices I make today are important and God wants me to abide in Him moment by moment, and not miss out on receiving the grace He has for me today because I choose to mess up today and try again tomorrow.

I'm always looking for the key or the plan so that I can cure myself from this sin for the long term. In reality, God has taken care of the long, long term, and now wants me to live and receive on a day to day basis so that I can also grow in Him on a day to day basis. Just as Paul begged to be delivered from his "thorn in the flesh" and God said no, He might leave me with my thorns also so I remember I can't do it on my own. Daily dependence keeps me right where I can receive His best for me.

On Sunday I had a day of mourning. I used to think of them as "black days"; a day where everything looks bleak and hopeless. The struggles that were hard the day before now appear overwhelming and I just no longer want to try. It's a day where my emotions escape from the tiny box I try to lock them in and they run away with me. It becomes a day where I either I fight and am angry at my inability to handle it or I give up and am just sad. Either way, it's not pretty.

Let me pause here to say, I know I don't have it that bad. "The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places" really, but every heart has it's own struggles even while we know that others have much more to be sad about. So there are situations in my life that leave me sad: people, relationships, sin, my own failings. And sometimes I just loose sight of the light. Tenth Ave. North says it well: "I'm tired, I'm worn. My heart is heavy. By the work it takes, to keep on breathing."

Emotions are messy and don't usually fit into my rules. Typically I do not "indulge" in them completely unless I have examined it from every angle and decided that they are completely justified.

But this week I just couldn't keep my head up any more. Justified or not, I was so tired of it being so hard. So I let myself mourn. I didn't try to rationalize away my feelings, blame them on hormonal changes, or come up with something to look forward to. I was human.

In "Grace for the Good Girl" Freeman says something about how much us good girls don't like fluctuating emotions because we have labeled some good and some bad and we want to feel only the good ones. But, she says, God has given us these fluctuations to remind us that we are human. And actually embracing them can help one remember how much we need a savior and help us have compassion on other humans.

I got on my knees and I cried and I asked for an answer, a plan, even just a next step. But he gave me none of those.

Instead He gave me Himself.

He reminded me that He knows exactly how I feel. In this situation, He is there too and he has experienced the same things. He shared my burden and so I am able to crawl forward, not with a plan, but with a helper.

I am still sad. I have not had my spirits buoyed by my latest and greatest agenda to make it all fit the picture in my head. But I do not feel so alone and I am closer to "whelmed" rather than "overwhelmed". And I have learned a little bit perhaps about the value in "a time to mourn."

"Presence makes your life into a greater gift than Productivity."

I actually read this over a week ago on Ann Voskamp's blog, but it's been haunting me. Probably because I wrote it on my kitchen wall. Productivity is easier for me than presence. Is it that way for everyone? I don't think so. Is it like that in all situations for me? Pretty sure not. It's the guilt that is always chasing me, you see. For the most part, for most of the hours of my day, I can think of something more I can be doing. So, for all of those times when I should relax and focus on what my presence is speaking to those around me, I am instead rushing around trying to be productive. And I measure the success of my days by my ongoing mental list of what I got done that day. And if I have failed to live up to my expectations the I am shamed. I am my own mean boss.

With certain people, and on good days, with my kids, I am able to see the value of presence in the moment. At the end of the day I am able to look back and say, "Yes, I did not cross off any chores in that hour but I did "accomplish" meaningful time with that person." But I have a pretty lofty vision of what meaningful time looks like. Maybe not only do I need to put this quote into action more often, I also need to look at it from another's eyes. Presence probably looks different to everyone at different times.

Another old quote: "In some ways we would prefer to hear Jesus' call to deny father and mother, houses and land for the sake of the gospel than his word to wash feet. Radical self-denial gives the feel of adventure...But in service we must face the many little deaths of going beyond ourselves.Service banishes us to the mundane, the ordinary, the trivial."

I feel like this speaks for itself. My extremest self finds it much easier to embrace a call to serve the Amazon Indians than it does humbly and cheerfully setting aside my schedule for an evening in order to run an errand for my husband. Enough said.

I just finished my second ever 5k and I felt the need to say something to someone. Despite my dragging legs and disappointment at not having more at the end, I finished. I know, for real runners, a 5k is peanuts, but for me who is only two months out from swearing "I don't run." it is something. I wish that running felt good, but I have yet to reach that point. It feels great when it's over but it's not like biking for me where mid-ride I am struck by euphoric feelings about how much I love what I am doing right now. Nope. Mid-run I am still struck by nauseous feelings and wonder if I can keep this putting of one foot in front of the other. I'm going to blame it on small lungs. And considering that I am still chilled and haven't stopped sneezing, I'm going to blame it on getting a cold too.

As comfortable as I was in my "I don't run." position, there is a certain amount of satisfaction in proving my own self wrong. Although I also believe I am done running for the season so we'll see what happens when it warms up again next Spring.

Enough about that fitness stuff; I'm not obsessing, I promise.

On to some of my reading from this morning. Richard Foster: "Celebration comes when the common ventures of life are redeemed." As most of my days are consumed by what most would consider "common ventures," I like this thought. Foster was writing about joy and living a life of celebration, "jubilee" even. For the Israelites to celebrate the Year of Jubilee required a great amount of trust. This was when they let go of a lot of things that they could have put their security in: servants, land holdings, even the planting of crops. Yes this year meant freedom for everyone and everything, but the very acts of the celebration required a trust that God would provide for the next year. Likewise, living a life of joy and celebration every day requires that I trust that God is going to see me through the next year, or hour even. Living in freedom requires I put my trust in God, not in the multitude of rules I have created to manage myself.

Ann Voskamp said this week that "All fear is the lie that God's love ends." I'm still pondering that one, but I've found it to be the true root of many of my fears. Maybe it's not that I'm afraid God's love will end, but that it won't be enough for this hard thing I am going through or enough motivation to overcome this sin in my life. Wow, does my thought life really tell the Creator that I don't think He's going to be enough for me? Wow. I think I need to study on "how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ."

So, back to my opening quote, Christ has redeemed my laundry, my changing of diapers, and my breaking up of fights. When I do them as unto Him I can lay them at his feet as a gift and even that I can be that close to Him is cause for celebration.

I took a few minutes this morning to just sit and watch the sun rise. And this is what I heard: "The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love." (Galatians 5) Now both of those words, "faith" and "love", need an object. Although the world tries to tell us differently, you don't just "have faith," you "have faith in..." whatever it might be, there is somewhere you are placing your trust even if you try to assert that it is just a warm fuzzy feeling of peace. The same with love; you love something, you don't just have love in a general, overarching sense of fondness for the whole world, unless maybe you've had too much alcohol, or in my case coffee.

I'm having a hard time loving someone. And it's because I'm afraid; I'm lacking faith and trust. And so this verse caught my eye as I wondered "faith in what and love for whom?"

Seeing as how this is the Bible, I'm going to hazard a guess that it's faith in God. So then the love could be back towards God or to other people. In my particular case the implications are the same: Love for this person will look like me doing "the good I know I ought to do." Or Jesus said, "If you love me, you will obey my commands" which will also look like me doing "the good I know I ought to do," in obedience to Christ.

So, Paul is saying that the only thing that counts is that my trust in a God who is completely in control translates to me being able to love completely, according to the needs of the other, without fear of the future or my own vulnerability. You see, I like to come up with plans, slogans, habits, whatever, that might help the relationship out but the pivotal question really is "is this acting in a love that springs from a place of trust in my Savior?" All too often the answer is no.

But is says here that is all that really matters. Granted the context, Paul is saying compared to circumcision, that is the keeping of the law, only this faith into love lifestyle is going to show you are in Christ. But Jesus said the same thing didn't he? "Love the Lord your God....and love your neighbor as yourself...all the law and the prophets hangs on this."

In the raising of my kids; the daily parenting questions that keep me awake at night as I fight the guilt of "am I doing this right?" The answer is "all that counts is faith expressing itself through love." Homeschooling or not. Vaccinations or not. Organic food or not. The rod or not. Emily Post's manners or NOT. How about just to the level of allowing of the word "Butt" or not. The question it comes back to is "am I being an example of faith in God expressing itself through love to Him and those around me?" The rest is just details.

In all my interactions with others: family, neighbors, spouse, friends. I am called to act in love from a place of deep trust in my heavenly Father. Easier typed than done. But I do enjoy the simplicity of the calling.

Don't you hate it when it feels like you are really listening to God only He's telling you something you don't want to hear?

Temptation arrived today in the form of my subscription to "Fitness" magazine. I subscribed last fall because it was cheap and I enjoy reading it. It's encouraging, informative, and offers some good ideas and workouts. But it certainly has it's downsides too; beyond the poorly clad women there is its constant message that if you do what they say and think like they think you will look like they look.

When it arrived today I was pretty sure that God was telling me to throw it away without opening it. I haven't opened it yet, but I also haven't thrown it away. It looks like it might have some good articles this time and I'm afraid of missing out on a great workout or recipe or tip. And there you have it, "I'm afraid." Pretty good sign right there that my motivations are not of God. It goes back to what I learned about needing to have His vision for my goals in life. Fitness is not bad, but I need to let it look like God wants it to be, not what I want, or what "Fitness" magazine says it should be.

I briefly considered asking someone else to read it for me and tear out anything that might be good. But really, do I think there are any "secrets" to health and exercise that God does not know? So if He thinks I need to know it He can let me know. And in the meantime it's easier to throw my magazine away than to gouge out my eye and throw it away after it reads things that are damaging to my mental health. Right? And sure there's the financial pain of "hey, I paid for that." But really, it was cheap and it would be worth it anyway. Right?

So, it's not really that big of deal, but it will maybe be a tiny step in the right direction, when I do actually obey.

If you will excuse me, I have a trip to the trash can to make.

Are you tired of Richard Foster yet? Sorry. It's what I'm reading and so it's what I'm quoting. Although the more I listen the more I am convinced of God's ability to use whatever is in front of me to get His message across. If I really am "seek (ing) first the kingdom of God" He could give me divine insight from "The Cat in the Hat" (which by the way seems to be a favorite book to memorize by people from Palmer. Does anyone else find that weird?) if He wants to. Likes to keep me on my toes you see.

So, back to the Richard Foster lesson of the morning: Submission! Well that was the chapter anyways, but the part that jumped out at me was this right at the beginning: "Every Discipline has its corresponding freedom...Our aim is freedom, not the discipline. The moment we make the discipline our central focus, we turn it into a law and lose the corresponding freedom...(the disciplines) have value only as a means of setting us before God so that he can give us the liberation we seek...We must clearly understand this limitation of the Disciplines if we are to avoid bondage...we need to underscore it to ourselves again and again so severe is our temptation to center on the Disciplines. Let us forever center on Christ and view the Spiritual Disciplines as a way of drawing us closer to his heart."

Once again, he hit the nail on the head for me, but lets not forget that Dr. Suess could be used by God too (no offense, Foster). Foster is talking about specific Spiritual Disciplines here, that's why he keeps capitalizing them, but I'm such a fan of discipline in general that I'm taking a broader scope. This is so often where I stumble: I find a good discipline, say exercise for a completely random example, desire to make it a habit, and in doing so it becomes the center, the focus, rather than the means to an end, which is this case should be good stewardship of the body God's given me. I look to this habit or discipline or routine to be my freedom from feelings of never being enough and there it becomes my god rather then a way to draw closer to his heart.

Reading Foster last week I was struck by one of his ten guidelines for simplicity (always dangerous to give this good girl a list!). The second suggestion was "reject anything that is producing an addiction in you." So I was thinking of what addictions I might be harboring and wondered if I should think about maybe giving up, are you ready for this? Chocolate.

Shocking I know. A chocolate addiction has become a pretty common joke in our culture. I usually make light of it myself. But I don't like how I start on a cookie and don't stop unless the jar, and maybe the freezer also, is empty. I don't like how often I go to grab a handful of chocolate chips when our morning of school is going less than smoothly. And I have often stated that I can turn down non-chocolate sweets much more easily. So, I was thinking and praying about this, not wanting it to be just another new rule for me. After hearing of my latest plan for self-denial, an honest friend (There she is again, are you curious about her identity yet? Sorry, I'm keeping this secret of the Dagoba system and my own private Yoda to myself. ;)) asked if this was just that: MY latest plan. So I stepped back to ponder even more.

But I don't think it is, at least at this time. It could become that at any moment and so maybe that's why I was particularly appreciative of the litmus test that Foster offered this morning. When my choice to not eat chocolate becomes a rule that I bow to rather than the freedom to NOT eat it until I get sores on my tongue and I beat myself up with shame, then it has moved to the center and ceased to be effective. Right now, it's good. Maybe a tad bit sad, but freeing still. I'll let you know about tomorrow. And in a spirit of full disclosure, no, I have not yet sat to ponder my relationship with coffee.

And I know that this is plenty long already, but I didn't want to leave out this great quote from Galatians 5 in The Message translation:"Why don't you choose to be led by the Spirit and so escape the erratic compulsions of a law-dominated existence?"

Exactly. Why don't I?

As my week of rest draws to a close I was asking, with a phrase that will always make me giggle, "Where do we go from here?" (For the explanation of that unfortunate romance see my Freshman year of college). God had me read Galatians 5 which starts with "It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery."

Yes, that's what I want. To not burden myself again. But how? This chapter lays out pretty plainly that it's living life by the Spirit, not the law. Jewish law, Holly's law, whatever. I'm sure there are some guys that will argue with this, but, as I read this chapter I was equating circumcision with the rules I have put on myself. Painful and unnecessary for holiness. I actually divide myself from my savior when I depend on my rules to sanctify me, "You who are trying to be justified by the law have been alienated from Christ; you have fallen away from grace." And if I have taken any baby steps to freedom this week, I don't want to go right back to my yoke.

So I'm looking for a plan, for specifics, but specifics so quickly become rules. This chapter says "live by the Spirit." My law-loving self hears "fly by the seat of your pants." Ahh! It would be easier for me to require a 6mi. run from myself every morning than to rest and trust and live moment by moment watching for the Spirit's guidance. I'm not saying I would like it better, it would just be less work. Sort of.

All this to say, I don't have it figured out yet, but I'm realizing that maybe God is keeping me from too many specifics because he knows how quickly that will become my lifeline rather than Him. But on the other side, He does give me a lot of answers in His word, and I love His sense of humor. As I'm looking for a daily exercise plan this morning, this is what I read "So I say, walk by the Spirit..." Ha! Guess I'm supposed to become a walker.

I was pondering "seek ye first the kingdom of God" again today and praying that God would give me His eyes to see what He wants His kingdom here on earth to look like. And I got to thinking of another angle to look at that line from. Now there are probably Biblical scholars out there that would argue with me that this isn't what this verse means, but oh well. It's just a thought, I'm not planning on making rubber bracelets.

Anyway, it seems like a lot of the time I get so caught up looking for things to fit into my expectations that I miss what God is really doing. And when I get frustrated that nobody is living up to my image then I really miss that maybe things are going just exactly how God envisioned it. So I was praying that I would "seek" in the sense of look out for, keep my eyes open for "the kingdom of God" that's already here. That I won't miss what God is doing because I'm in mourning for what, in my opinion, He should be. Heaven help me for when I pin some of my "shoulds" on God. Maybe my three year old daughter was looking through the catalog for pictures of "naked" men but maybe I didn't stop to be grateful that she was very considerate in sharing her swing with her little brother. Maybe my husband did not remember that this was a day of something important to me, but maybe he did pause for a moment of prayer somewhere in his day. Maybe, right now, all of my children are running around without shirts on in a living room that looks like Christmas morning and a slumber party had a collision, but maybe they are laughing hilariously and I'm not exasperated and yelling at them. Don't judge, I said maybe.

So I'm asking that I not be so focused on my image of what I want growth or change to look like that I miss out on the kingdom moments of God ordained growth or change in lives all around me.

Don't you love it when it feels like you are really listening to God?

This morning I was reading about "seek ye first the kingdom of God..." and I was struck by the "all these things..." element. Those things that I struggle to let go of still matter to God. He doesn't ask me to give them up and let them go because they don't matter. He doesn't say forget about that. He says, I care about them too, let me handle them. You seek my kingdom, I'll take care of "all these things." I have a hard time letting go of this thing because I'm afraid that God won't take care of it the way that I want Him to; it won't end up looking like the picture I have in my head. And I turned a corner in my heart and there was my idol. The problem here is the pictures I have in my head of what my little kingdom should look like and I won't trust God with all of those things because I'm afraid he won't do it the way I'm picturing it. A picture, an image: an idol.

Exercise/Fitness. It's not that God doesn't care about it; He's not saying, "give it up, it doesn't matter!" (although it could be argued, in light of eternity what does it matter?) He's saying, pursue MY vision of life and trust MY plans, do it MY way. Before I start on my next workout plan or eating plan, ask what His vision for it is. Step back and stop to see what that would look like in His kingdom; what priority it should take in the grand scheme.

And this applies to everything. My house (clean, dirty, organized, or not). My kids (how I or the world expects them to turn out vs. how God expects them to turn out). My husband (what does "Prince Charming" look like in my head or what does God ultimately have planned for him). And everything else I find myself worrying and stressing about from moment to moment.

Excuse me if I'm stating the obvious. I realize that this is very familiar ground. It's all about my expectations and how high I set them because I'm trying to achieve my image of perfect.

And they're never going to get there. There will always be more to do. But, if I step back. If I seek God's vision. If I set my goals according to that and then accept grace to make up the difference. There! That is freedom!

Yesterday I was reading "The Celebration of Discipline" again and he was talking about study, but also how much we learn when we don't even realize we are "studying." He's referring to what we learn merely by repetition and that whether we mean to or not; this is something the advertising world understands much better than we do. Foster says "Repetition regularly channels the mind in a specific direction, thus ingraining habits of thought...It is not even important that the person believe what he or she is repeating, only that it be repeated. The inner mind is thus trained and will eventually respond by modifying behavior to conform to the affirmation." Or in lots of cases, the condemnation. You see, I next got the e-mail link to this blog by Ann Voskamp and it started me thinking about the condemning "self talk" that I have been listening to for, well probably most of my life. If you're human you probably know: those voices that whisper failure; the mirror that highlights the flaws; the passing comment by the thoughtless that points our how you're not enough; the sin nature of your child that you're shamed you could have hidden if only you were "better." The inner dialogue that is never quiet and rarely peaceful. Repetition. It's trained my inner mind and it's modified my behavior.

So how do I modify it back?

I liked what Ann had to say and I also wanted to add one of my own, "you are enough." That's a tricky one, because I'm sure the world would be quick to jump on board with any number of best-selling self-helping books. But the freedom really comes when I repeat that I am enough only because of Christ. He makes up where I'm sorely lacking. I don't have to DO anything to be enough; my instructions are "BE still and KNOW." That's all. "...it gives me permission to sit down on the inside because I have a God who knows what He's doing."

Another thing that really struck me about that blog post by Ann though (do you like how I refer to her by name as if we were friends?) was when she talked about looking people in the eyes. I have trouble with that and I really don't know why. I've only realized it recently but I really avoid eye contact. "'Tis a puzzlement!" I can't put my finger on what I'm avoiding. It's equally puzzling that the people I have made eye contact with really stick in my memory; and it's a good memory. Like a warm drink, comforting. So why do I avoid it?

Anyway, I don't have an answer to that and it was really kind of a side note.

Yesterday's devotional reading in "Reflections for Ragamuffins" was this: "Would that I had served my God the way I have watched my waistline!" Ha! That about covers it, no? Talk about direct. And I had to ask myself, do I really wish that or am I content with the current division of my efforts? "What is spiritual ecstasy compared to the exquisite pleasure of looking like a model?" Is that what my lifestyle currently broadcasts to those around me?! At least he softened it a little bit by saying that most of North America has also fallen for this "formidable ploy of the impostor." Jesh.

And finally: I'm memorizing Matthew 18 right now, because the pastor told me I had to. But beyond that, I love how God's word is always applicable, even a seemingly unrelated passage. "Woe to the world because of the things that cause people to sin...If your hand or your foot causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away! Better to enter life maimed or crippled than to have two hands or two feet and be thrown into eternal fire." And so I paraphrase: If exercise causes you to sin, cut it out and give it up! Better to enter life out of shape then have a toned body and be thrown into eternal fire." Right?

This morning I was wondering to myself about my motivation for doing this "fast." Or at least, what my motivation should be. I re-read Foster's words about how we should not fast to try to manipulate God. As I was begging for change, I wondered if I was trying to do just that. My reason should be to say, "I am giving this up because God is more important to me than this thing and if this thing is in the way, then I'll give it up." I later heard a song that said something along the lines of "we were created only to be a reflection." I spend a lot of time, energy, and thought on my workout regime and being in shape. How does any of that fulfill my purpose of being a reflection? Or does it only endeavor to fulfill my need to feel a sense of accomplishment? Just yesterday I was struck by how much I depend on a sense of accomplishment to determine my emotions. If I feel that I have not accomplished anything in a day, then I am down and feeling lazy and worthless. If I feel that I have gotten done what I wanted to in a day and maybe even a little more, then I'm feeling ok. One of the big problems with this is that I don't know when to stop. What is enough? Will there always be more to do? I have a hard time relaxing if there are dishes in the sink. I may have vacuumed the floors to day, but I could still clean the windows. Ok, I'll sit down and watch a video with the kids, but I'm going to work on photobooks while I do it. Or better yet, I will exercise while I watch the video. Have an engaging novel to read? Why not read it while on the exercise bike? I ran three miles today? I wonder if I could've done three and a half? Sure I worked out this morning, but I have a half hour free in the afternoon, while not do a quick arm workout then too? Kids are in bed and the sun is still shining, I'd better go for a bike ride! Get the picture? This is my head.

And then it gets just a little bit dangerous: Yes, I've lost 50lb. in the last year, but look at that roll that's still there, and there. Sure, I said no to the ice cream before bed but I probably could've skipped the afternoon snack too. Yes, I've been teaching my child this good habit and that kindness, but what about those that I haven't focused on? There is always more that I could be doing. And it's so exhausting.

It's only been in the last month that I was really struck by the beauty of the Gospel: because of Christ, I can stop. The world is imperfect; I am imperfect. There will always be a falling short of my efforts because the world is fallen. Christ makes up the difference. I was made for heaven, where everything is perfect. I want more because I want my home. God is a perfectionist too. The difference is that He can and has fixed the big problem and as he makes me more like Him he's not going to enable me to overlook the imperfections, He's going to set my sights on heaven and give me His eyes to see how His Son is the fullness in the now and forever. Grace makes up the difference. Grace makes it ok to stop.

So, I know that, but how do I act like it? My mind is so long engraved with this striving that I still don't know how to sit down. How to rest in Him. Where to I find the balance between what I am supposed to do and accomplish and enjoying a healthy sense of accomplishment and being my own "mean boss" assigning myself a to-do list that leaves me drowning?

What I'm Doing; Or rather not "doing"

This week I am fasting, from exercise.

Gee, that sounds rough you say.

Actually, it is.
It's rather embarrassing how hard this is for me, but that's one of the things that makes me think it's just what I need to do, or not do. And I know that Jesus said that when you fast you're not supposed to let anyone else know what you're doing, but I'm going to talk about it here. Because writing helps me process. And really am I telling anyone when I write here? Or I am just talking to the vast impersonal no one that is the world wide web? And in truth, to the vast majority, I'm pretty sure that my need to do this is just bizarre and strange anyway. Are bizarre and strange the same thing?

It's been awhile now that I've been struggling to find balance in my whole fitness/diet regime. The truth is really hard to see here because fitness is a good thing and it's also something I really enjoy. Probably a sort of hobby for me. I really enjoy biking and yoga particularly, but also the challenge that any good workout poses. I've even been running lately which I swore I'd never do. The problem for me comes in that I don't know when to stop.There is always more I can do. There was a time this summer when my normal routine was two to three medium intensity workouts a day. I realized that was kind of crazy when I was dreading my life because there was so little time between workouts. So I backed off to one workout six days a week and two on four of those days. This really might be ok, but I've become increasingly aware of the unrest of my metal state. A lack of freedom.

I was listening to Mark Driscoll last week talk about idols and identity and he said that if you look at what you are afraid of loosing then you might be looking at an idol in your life. What am I afraid of loosing? My current fitness level. How often do I think about and stress about that? Too much. I often go to bed feeling guilty for the workout to eating imbalance of my day and promise myself to do better tomorrow. And I'm really sick of it.

I've been reading a lot lately about freedom and grace and how God offers it to us and even died so that I could have it. And yet I'm living enslaved inside my head.

So yesterday I was talking to an honest friend and I agreed with her that change needs to happen but I don't know how. I'm a doer and I want to know what plan and steps I need to take to get this over-controlling under control. Err. Are you seeing some of my problems here? So I asked her how?! And she suggested fasting; maybe from exercise. My first response was fear. In my head I said, "oh no, I couldn't do that. I would loose all of the ground I have gained. I'll get out of the habit. I'll loose muscle tone." And the fact that my response was fear made me think that this might be just exactly the thing I need to do. "A scared man doesn't know anything about grace." God doesn't want us to live in fear. He wants me to "sit down on the inside because I have a God who knows what He's doing."

So all day I've been pondering this and am uncomfortable with the intense feelings it's brought up. I couldn't pinpoint my melancholy until I realized that while I'm willing to give this up, I'm casting around for something to take hold of. I like to have a plan. I like to rest secure in my own abilities. And I am not able to make this "giving up" worthwhile. I really want real lasting change to happen, but only Jesus makes that happen. And so a week of resting, waiting, emptying out, and doing nothing is scary to me. But "a scared man doesn't know anything about grace" and I really want to know about grace. "He is no fool who gives up what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot loose." This thing I am afraid of loosing is not something I am, in reality, able to keep. Better to give it up now before it "crumbles under the weight of being my god."