Change

If you know me at all, you know I'm a very opinionated person. If I like something, I LOVE something, and if I don't like it, I hate it.

Call it genetics. The running gag from my dad was that in the car, he'd either blast the A/C full blast or the heat full blast. And if the A/C got too cold and you asked him to turn it down he'd say, "You want heat?!?" and blast the heat.

I've taken a similar approach with my interests and opinions. And while sometimes that can be a good thing, sometimes it makes it really hard to grow and change. Sometimes it even makes it embarrassing.

You see, I've put myself in these boxes and announced to the world that this is who I am. I make these things a part of my identity. So when I try to change...I'm ashamed and worried I'll hear the "I told you so's." It can be easier just to not change than to try to redefine myself when I've been so outspoken about who I am.

Last year something happened that got me thinking about the reason I didn't want kids. I was dead set against having them. But when I really boiled down my desires, it came down to three factors. One of them wasn't a factor anymore, one of them I'd realized didn't have to be the case, and the third was just selfish. Bottom line, I realized I'm open to having kids. I didn't go into baby fever mode or start fretting over my biological clock. If I don't end up having kids, I'm okay with that, too. But I still had to change this identity I'd built as "someone who doesn't want kids." And that was really hard.

This year, I've begun eating a lot healthier. That's a bigger switch than the kids thing, because it goes back way farther. My college classmates would remember me as the girl who brought Swiss Cake Rolls to class for breakfast. My high school classmates would remember me as the girl who hoarded Cadbury Mini Eggs. (A day-after-Easter sale was the only time I ever cut class.) My middle school church friends might remember how I could never stop at just one Dunkin Donut in Sunday School. And my co-workers now know me for my love of Dunkin Donuts still.

And yes, I still love Dunkin Donuts. (Although the Colorado ones are sub-par.) But I'd built my identity up so much around being a donut person and never eating vegetables that I was pretty embarrassed about this shift.

I didn't set out to become healthier. There was a competition at work and you got points for eating veggies, fruits, and whole grains. I've been told I'm a bit competitive...and this contest really drove me. (Yes, my team won. And I checked to see if I got the most points individually of anyone in the company, and I did.)

I have really strong taste buds and a really strong gag reflex. Because of this, my food options are pretty limited. So I always ate junk food not because I didn't care about my health, but because I just didn't think there was enough I liked to be healthy. But as I strove to win this competition, I realized I could do it. I didn't have to force myself to gag down stuff that could hardly stay down. There was enough I liked that I could get the fruits and veggies I needed. And there were a few new things I tried that I liked.

The competition ended a while ago, but the change has lasted. All I needed was the push to see it was possible for me. And I've continued to find new things I like that are better choices for me. But it's hard for me when people make shocked comments about my food choices. I get it - I built up my own junk food reputation. I'm the girl who put Dunkin Donuts in her room safe at a work conference to make sure they didn't get stolen, and made sure everyone knew it.

Bottom line - I'm learning not to let my choices define me so much. Because I want to be flexible enough that God can stretch me and grow me.

One of my ah-ha's when I was confronted with the first shift, the kids issue, was reading Luke 5. Jesus calls his first disciples, who'd had a long night of fishing and caught nothing. He tells them to cast down their nets again, and they do, and catch a whole bunch of fish. I'd read it before, knew it well.

But verse 2 caught my attention this time. The fishermen were washing their nets. They'd packed it up, cleaned up, were about to head home. This wasn't like, they were just about to shore and they dropped the nets right where they were. (Which is kind of what I'd always pictured.) They'd ALREADY CLEANED THEIR NETS. And they didn't even know this Jesus guy. They had to go to a considerable amount of effort to change their plans, but they just did it. Can't say I'd be that flexible.

Now, maybe it stood out to me because I like things clean. Whatever the case, I was pretty impressed by these disciples taking their freshly cleaned nets and dropping back into the yucky water. And it made me realize that no matter how neat and tidy I've packaged up my identity, I need to be ready to shake things up when Jesus comes calling.

Identity

I can't remember if I've already blogged about this, but since I'm not sure I wanted to make sure I do it now.

In 2012, the main thing God did in my life was teach me who I am and re-shape my identity. I'd just gone through a divorce and was on my own again for the first time in 5 years. I was ready for a fresh start, ready to discover who I really was—a whole person, made in the image of Christ.

I spent most of that year reading just 8 or so different chapters of the Bible. Each day I'd read one or two verses and contemplate on what those verses said about who God is, and what that showed about who I am. I wanted my identity to be rooted in who God is, because I'm his child. It was a wonderful way to read the Bible, and I ended up memorizing much of what I read simply because I spent so much time immersed in just a few words.

Out of that time came this project. Each day I'd write on a mirror who I was and surround it with who God is.

It's hard for me to really put into words how 2012 changed me. But whenever I start to feel uncertain or worried, I head over to this mirror collage and read a few. And inevitably, it regrounds me and helps me remember that I have nothing to fear.

Identity

About a month ago I met someone for the first time. As we talked she commented on how confident and sure of myself I am. She admired this quality in me.

I told her this was quite different from the me I used to be. But as I've mentioned before, I've committed this year to rediscovering my identity in Christ.

I've learned a lot about who I am through my mirror collage. I am new. I am in God's hands. I am understood. I am rich. I am fearless. I am strong. I am blessed. I am complete. I have his power. And so much more.

I've learned confidence as God has given me opportunities to step out and build my strength. Taking a self-defense class gave me confidence to know that if I can rip a guy's ear clear off his head, flick it in his face, and make him bleed from his tear ducts, I'll be OK.

I've learned that I actually enjoy exercise. Running, swimming, biking...these all help me reflect and feel energized.

I've learned to be still in God's presence, through my reflective Scripture reading and through taking yoga classes.

I've learned to abide in Christ, to breathe him in with every breath I take, to sense his constant presence around me.

I've learned what kind of styles I like as I redecorated my house.

I've learned that I don't have to live in the past or be fearful of the future. I am in God's hands and as long as I seek his will rather than following my own stubborn and foolish heart, I will be in a good place.

I'm glad this new acquaintance could see this confidence in me. She, too, is going through a divorce. I'm glad she can see the light at the end of the tunnel. That God can use this experience to shape and redefine your identity to make you completely sure of yourself because you know who you are in him.

Worship

I've been teaching myself how to play guitar for the past couple months. I actually bought this cheap Walmart guitar like 6 years ago, and learned a few chords, but hadn't played it much since the initial purchase.

I'm pretty bad. If you listened to me playing, you'd probably want to smash the guitar. I take a while to change chords (although I'm getting faster!), I sometimes hit the chord wrong, and I have absolutely no sense of rhythm...which, it turns out, is pretty important for playing the guitar well. I feel like the first two flaws could improve over time, but the third probably means I'm not destined to start a band.

But that's OK, because I don't want to start a band. Despite how terrible my guitar playing may sound to human ears, I know it's a joyful noise unto the Lord. There's something so wonderful to me about being able not just to sing (which is also pretty bad), but to make music to worship God.

When I play guitar, I get lost in it. Time goes by so quickly until suddenly I realize I've been playing for quite some time. Turning page after page in my "easy worship songs" guitar chords books, singing and playing to celebrate the greatness of God.

Working on learning to play guitar has been a part of my 2012 goal to rediscover who I am in Christ, and who God made me to be. And even though it's clear he didn't make me to be a wonderful guitarist, that's OK. He made me with a heart to make music for him in the privacy of my guest room. I don't have to be good at it—if I enjoy it and do it unto the Lord, that's what matters.

The same goes for swimming. And running. And yoga. I'll never be an Olympic swimmer. I can barely swim two laps without pausing to catch my breath. I've been running for about a year now and still have to take a couple walking breaks on my mere 1.5 miles route. And after 5 months of yoga, I still can't touch my toes. I watch other people in the class move their bodies in ways I can't imagine will ever be possible for me.

But my mediocrity doesn't bother me in the least. All of these things are ways I connect with God. All of these activities are ways I honor him with my heart and my body. And all of these things are things I enjoy doing, because that's how God made me. I think this is what worship is all about. Doing the things you love to do, for the glory of God and to connect with him. And no matter how mediocre or just plain lousy you are at those things, it's beautiful when he sees you doing what he made you to love doing.

My Precious

I've blogged before about how I've been spending my quiet times this year with a reflective method of reading Scripture, focusing on a couple lines at a time and really soaking them in. And as a result, almost inadvertently memorizing those passages.

These are the passages I've read so far: Psalm 93, Psalm 103, Psalm 139, and 1 John 3:1-10. And I just started Psalm 40, but I'm only 2 verses in.

This method of Scripture reading isn't for everyone. I've also been reading a book by John Ortberg called The Me I Want to Be and he talks about connecting with God in the way that is most impactful to you, not trying to imitate other people. For me, this has been an extremely healing process of self-discovery. I recommend it only to those who think it would be a good process for them.

The passages I've picked out have been somewhat arbitrary, but they mostly focus on God's greatness and his love for me. They say things like:

"How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God!" - 1 John 3


"As high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his love for those who fear him." - Psalm 103


"As a father as compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him." - Psalm 103


"From everlasting to everlasting, the Lord's love is with those who fear him." - Psalm 103


"You created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made." - Psalm 139

(Sorry for the lack of verse numbers. Memorizing those hasn't been a part of this journey.)

I woke up this morning feeling very unloveable. Bad things happen when I lose an hour of my day, I guess. I even said aloud as I processed my life's journey, "Am I that unloveable?" And that's when God reminded me of these verses I'd so recently reflected on and so quickly forgotten about. I'm not unloveable, because God loves me. And his love is the only love that really matters.

And then I realized that when we say and think negative things about ourselves, we are criticizing God's very carefully, fearfully, and wonderfully made creation. He made me me, not anyone else. I'm weird. I'm a nerd. I'm a picky eater. I have squinty eyes when I smile, and I get lightheaded around flashing lights. One of my legs is shorter than the other, and if not for my heel lift, my spine curves because of it causing my rib to pop out of my spine. Not one of these things is a mistake; I am fearfully and wonderfully made.

That's not to say I'm perfect. I sin daily. I struggle with pride. I am often too harsh in the way I voice my opinions. I have a know-it-all complex. These are not things that God wove into me when I was woven together. These are the things my sinful nature has brought to the mix, and I need God to deal with those.

But the things about our personalities or our appearance that make us question our value? Those are not mistakes. Any doubts or insecurities about those things are straight from the devil. And "the reason the Son of God appeared was to destroy the devil's work" (1 John 3). So the devil doesn't reign in my life. "The Lord has established his throne in heaven, and his kingdom rules over all" (Psalm 103).

I am fearfully and wonderfully made. You are fearfully and wonderfully made. So be you. And don't let Satan or anyone else try to convince you that person is unloveable. In God's sight, you are his precious, precious child.