Thankful For Facebook Memories

This note came up as a memory on my Facebook page. Perhaps you need to know you’re enough…I did today.

M: MVNC, Michigan, Misfits, and Maturity

One of the greatest enemies to my relationships is thinking I’m not worthy or I don’t belong.  I have spent my life battling with “I-don’t-belong-syndrome.”  So, the irony that M should land on this day is not lost on me.  Today has had plans in it for a very long time, plans that God made that superseded anything that could have been done by me.  Today is the 30th class reunion of my college graduating class.  I was excited to go and see people and reminisce at my Alma Mater.   Trouble was I didn’t write the dates on my calendar.  I read material from the Alumni Association, but the dates never penetrated my brain.  In the meantime, a friend from high school came up with a wonderful idea to travel to Michigan to see another one of our high school friends.  When the miracle happened that we all had a Saturday off together I rejoiced and marked that date on my calendar.  A final piece of material came from MVNC that was meant to remind me of the reunion and it hit me that I had made the mistake of not marking my calendar.  Now what a mess that was!  Or was it?  Today seems to be a day to deal with my own demons of feeling like a misfit and wanting instant maturity.  

Feeling like a misfit goes way back into my childhood.  I recognized it most at Christmas each time when I watched the Rudolph Christmas special.  I would sit and listen to the misfit toys sing their woeful song and then get all excited when in spite of their differentness they were able to find joy and love when they were reunited with the other toys.  Even the “Bumble” found usefulness and meaning.  As I grew I seemed to always find ways to lock into the group where I never felt like I fit in: I was never quite smart, talented, pretty, rich, or loveable enough.  Those were terrible monsters to battle and  I know that those feelings are a part of teenage angst and from a developmental psychology perspective I was struggling to find my identity.  Throughout the process I felt like David in Saul’s armor: nothing seemed to fit.  But unlike David, I didn’t know how to throw it off and find myself.

The other component that made life that so difficult for me was that I wanted instant maturity.  I remember standing on the stage at the end of the Miss Teenage Columbus Pageant.  I had actually made the top five.  I was now going to have to answer a question that would determine my place among the winners.  I was given a list of characteristics and told to chose the two I felt were most important and why.  I distinctly remember that one of my answers was wisdom and I think the other was happiness.  I wanted wisdom because I knew it was knowledge well used.  At seventeen I wanted to have all the answers and the ability to function wisely.  Now perhaps that seems like a good thing, but in my answer I see my propensity to want to short-circuit the process.  It wasn’t until I was in my thirties that someone finally helped me realize the importance of process, the need to value the process not just to strive for the end result.  So now in my fifties, I feel like a kid just sucking the life out of the process and it feels weird and people look at me even weirder.

As I was thinking about all of this I was prompted to pick up my copy of Warren’s “The Purpose Driven Life.”  I was required to read this at work several years ago and while I found pieces of it interesting, I was at such a different place spiritually than my co-workers that it wasn’t a good experience for me.  I chaffed against it to be quite honest.  So this morning I was flipping through some of the pages and I found a section on the misfits of God—imagine that! 

Here’s what Warren writes:

“What matters is not the duration of your life, but the donation of it.  Not how long you lived, but how you lived.  If you’re not involved in any service or ministry, what excuse have you been using?  Abraham was old, Jacob was insecure, Leah was unattractive, Joseph was abused, Moses stuttered, Gideon was poor, Samson was codependent, Rahab was immoral, David had an affair and all kinds of family problems, Elijah was suicidal, Jeremiah was depressed, Jonah was reluctant, Naomi was a widow, John the Baptist was eccentric to say the least, Peter was impulsive and hot-tempered, Martha worried a lot, the Samaritan woman had several failed marriages, Zaccheaus was unpopular, Thomas had doubts, Paul had poor health, and Timothy was timid.  That is quite a variety of misfits, but God used each of them in his service.  He will use you, too, if you stop making excuses.” (p. 233)

Speaking of maturity, Warren also refers to the process of maturing fruit and vegetables.  He writes: “When you try to ripen fruit quickly, it loses it flavor.  In America, tomatoes are usually picked unripened so they won’t bruise during shipping to the stores.  Then, before they are sold, these green tomatoes are sprayed with CO2 gas to turn them red instantly.  Gassed tomatoes are edible, but they are no match to the flavor of a vine-ripened tomato that is allowed to mature slowly.” (p. 217)

So what does this all have to do with going to Michigan instead of MVNC?  I’m glad you’re still with me to ask the question.  Today I’m spending the day with the woman who was class president and so popular I didn’t realize she even knew my name.  She has a life that I used to dream would be mine.  And today by the grace of God I call her my friend.  And we’re going to visit the woman who won that Miss Teenage Columbus Pageant when I was fourth runner up.  She is one of the smartest, most gifted women I know and God has blessed my life with her friendship as well.  Today I’m marveling in a process that has taken way more than 30 years to effect.  Three of us will enjoy the day together, but there are multitudes who have made it possible for me to do so.  I can’t name you by name here, but know that you will be in my heart there.  Today there is no misfit.  Talk about maturity.

Mercy

This coming Sunday I was asked to lead a women’s ensemble for the special music in the worship service. Our practices were slowly whittled down to one because of the weather. Pastor and I discussed it and decided to reschedule until next month.

Then he asked if I would sing the special. I was okay with that and agreed immediately.

I like to find a song that supports the message. Pastor’s topic is mercy. I went searching through CBD (Christian Book Distributors) and listening on youtube. Here’s the song I think I’m going to do:

But what is mercy?

Each time I found a definition and started reading I began to weep, overwhelmed by the mercy I have experienced in my life.

Here are a couple definitions I found.

From TEKTON Apologetics: Pilch and Malina note that in an ancient context, “mercy” is better rendered as “gratitude” or “steadfast love.” One example of the expression of mercy would be “the debt of interpersonal obligations for unrepayable favors received.” For a case like this, to say, “Lord, have mercy!” (Matt. 20:31) means, “Lord, pay up your debt of interpersonal obligation to us!” Not a plea of the hapless, it is in this case a request to pay back previously earned favor (as a loyal subject of the Davidic/Messianic dynasty).

Grace is getting what we don’t deserve and mercy is not getting what we do deserve.

Biblically: 17 For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. (John 3:17, NIV)

The Bible story that defines/describes mercy for me is the story of the man who is forgiven a huge debt. It was the equivalent of millions of dollars. There is no way possible for him to repay it. And the debt is forgiven. He meets up with someone who owes him a fraction of what he was just forgiven and he demands payment. It doesn’t end well for him (see Matthew 18:21-35).

I don’t get the unmerciful servant. First, I don’t get how he could run up such a huge debt. And then to not be changed. I’m mystified. I just don’t get it.

Every time I think about my debt being paid, forgiven…I choke up and feel so unworthy.

Every time I look at my husband, I marvel at his love for me. I don’t deserve it. Yet it’s there.

Every time I am allowed to teach a class, lead a Bible study, sing in worship, speak at a gathering…I’m humbled beyond description.

And grateful.

Thank you for Your mercy.

Happy dancin’

WAHOO!!!!

That glow coming from Ashland, Ohio is me smiling as the dark cloud has been lifted. Do I feel any different? Not really. I still feel like I’m a walking bruise, from the top of my head to the literal bottom of my feet. But I saw the rheumatologist today and her report has me a hundred shades of happy.

The tests that she ordered show that I do not have rheumatoid arthritis, or lupus, or hepatitis (thanks to those shots I got many years ago). My sed rate is normal. I am no longer anemic. My kidneys and liver are working well.

What I do have is inflammation and fibromyalgia. And while these are not to be taken lightly, they are things that I know I can work with and find much support for. The doctor wants to wean me off the prednisone…slowly. So for the next 30 days I’ll continue on the 10mg and then I’ll drop to 5mg. I start taking a low dose prescription to address the inflammation.

So what is different? The dark cloud of not knowing is gone. The fear of something being wrong, of life changing drastically, of…well, just not being sure what was going to happen next are gone, gone, gone!

And I am so thank-full. I just wanted to let you know.

Thanksgiving Thanks

I’m full of thanks for family, food, and football. I’m thankful that my daughters and grandchildren will be in my home today. I’m thankful that I am married to a man who loves to cook and is really, really good at it. And it goes without saying how happy I am to enjoy football with my family.

I’m blessed. I know it and I’m thank-full.

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