Quit Beating Yourself Up

Since May 3^rd, thanks to a new accountability partner, I have dragged myself out of bed every weekday morning before 5 a.m. to tackle some distance on the “dreadmill”.

Well, I’ve done it every morning except one.

Last Thursday, I received a call from Colton’s school nurse to inform me he hurt his arm/wrist while playing on the playground. After a trip to the doctor and an x-ray, it was determined all was fine, but it still hurt which caused him to have a restless night. Because Colton and I were up and down, the dog didn’t sleep well and between trips to put Colton back in bed and give him Tylenol, I was also shoving Rico out the door to take care of business. Overall, it wasn’t a restful night, so sometime after 3:00 a.m. I reset my alarm clock and gave myself permission to sleep a little later than usual.

Perfectly acceptable, right? Not in my  mind, apparently. Instead of focusing on the many miles I’ve logged lately and that I can even feel a bit of a difference in the way my pants fit, I can’t seem to forgive myself for the day I skipped.

Why? Why do I do that? Why do women everywhere do that? (I’m not saying men don’t ever feel defeated or useless, but it seems to be a more significant problem for women.)

Recently, I saw a video online from the Dove Beauty Campaign showing how tough women can be on themselves.  A forensic artist drew women from their own descriptions and then from the descriptions of their friends. The differences in the drawings are astonishing. Take a look here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XpaOjMXyJGk

Psalm 139:14 says, “I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.”

Philippians 4:13 says, “I can do all things through him who strengthens me.”

Philippians 2:13 says, “for it is God who works in you to will and to act in order to fulfill his good purpose.”

Why, when God’s word tells me I’m worthy, useful, and wonderful, do I believe the negative voices that weasel their way inside my head and my heart? I don’t know the answer, but I know I’m not alone. Why do we waste so much time in our lives without confidence, filled with anxiety?

Do you know a beautiful, productive, essential woman who beats herself up regularly? I’m sure you do. Today, take the time to tell her what you see in her. Maybe the reflection from your eyes will fill her heart for a moment and brighten her day.

Do You Live by Common Sense?

“We had more guts than good sense.”

I heard this comment last night during a conversation about the crazy behavior of teens. Peer pressure, too many hormones, and growing pains can all cause teens to make really stupid decisions. Did you ever do anything ‘back in the day’ that makes you cringe when you think of it as an adult?

Did you ever climb a water tower to spray paint a name and a heart to impress a girl?

Did you ever toilet paper a house?

Did you ever steal something for the thrill of it?

Did you ever drive too fast so your buddies thought you were “super cool”?

You may not have done any of those, but I think many people can look back, shake their heads and proclaim. Wow, I was a total idiot back then!

As adults, many of us become more conservative in our actions and use much more common sense. Those who don’t are seen as renegades or rebels, and it’s rarely considered a positive trait.

But does God want us to use common sense? At M-Fuge, the mission camp I attended with my youth group last month, Pastor Tim Bertram made me realize sometimes ignoring common sense is the best choice. The Bible is full of examples of this.

Did Noah use common sense when God told him to build an ark – even though it had never rained a drop?

Did Moses use common sense when he spoke to the burning bush?

Did the disciples use common sense when told to drop everything and follow Jesus?

Did David use common sense when he faced Goliath?

No. If they had used common sense, they wouldn’t have followed the path God planned for them. Sometimes, we just can’t fathom what God has up his sleeve, and we need to follow without trying to figure it out.

It’s called obedience.

And it often doesn’t make sense to us. Why in the world does God want me to go to an impoverished country? Why does God want me to embrace that rebellious teen who threatened me? Why does God want me to unlock my car door and give that scary-looking individual some money in the part of town with the highest crime rate? Why would God want me to teach Sunday School to preschoolers. I don’t like kids that age.

None of it makes sense. But we’re called to do it. The next time your brain tells you something doesn’t make sense, maybe you should listen to your heart instead.

Because obeying God makes the most sense of all.

When have you ignored your common sense to follow God? Share in a comment.

What Churns Up Your Memories?

Do you rush through life and miss simple things? Do days and weeks pass without you noticing your surroundings? I feel that way most of the time, but occasionally something happens to remind me to open my eyes a little more often.

Yesterday, we were headed to the airport and had a brief sighting of a peacock. It changed my whole day. Have you ever waded through a creek, letting your feet shift through the mud, churning it up in swirls through the water? That’s how my mind felt after I saw the peacock. Memories swirled up and clouded my focus for much of the day.

Some of you might be thinking those must be awful memories to be compared to mud, but you obviously haven’t squished your toes in cool mud on a hot summer day. It’s a glorious experience and so was reliving my memories. Distracted and happy – that’s how I would describe the rest of my day.

My grandparents had peacocks on The Farm. Yes, it’s capitalized. To my dad’s family, The Farm represented a little slice of heaven on earth.

I remember sitting on the porch swing, wrapped up in a quilt against the evening cool, cuddled up with Grandmother. She would swing us back and forth, sing Bible songs or just talk about life on The Farm. And occasionally she would be interrupted by the cry of help from a peacock.

Have you ever heard a peacock cry? It sounds like “Help!” But Grandmother’s birds never sounded distressed, and if I squinted against the dusk, I could see them getting ready to roost up in the trees. The cries were simply one element in the peace and tranquility of an evening on The Farm.

After remembering those pleasant times, my mind refocused on the present, hurrying to the airport so we could sit and wait. But soon another memory floated in. And then another. All day long, my mind shifted through memories of The Farm, Daddy, Grandmother and Granddad, aunts, uncles, and cousins. What a beautiful way to spend the day.

Here are some more memories caused by from my peacock sighting (I think I’m blogging about them so I can relive them again):

We used to jump from the roof of the chicken coop onto the trampoline, and finally, after a lot of practice, we were able to stick the landing. Of course, Uncle Kevin could go the opposite direction. He would jump from the trampoline up to the roof. He stuck his landing every time.

Grandmother always produced huge meals, whether a holiday or not. Everyone gathered around the table, either in the kitchen or the dining room, long after the meal disappeared.

My uncle Kevin, my cousin Scott, and Grandmother

When snow blanketed the cow pasture, the men fashioned a sled from plywood and would pull us behind the old pickup truck.

When the hay barn bulged with bales, we would divide into teams, climb to the top and swing on a bag swing the length of the barn, picking up new riders at the top of every swing. Usually after two or three were on the swing, we would end up in a giggling pile on the barn floor.

Daddy and Uncle Tom usually spent some quiet time together. I’m not sure if it was mostly silent while they read or if most consisted of conversation, but I know Daddy relished their time together.

My uncle Tom and Daddy

To celebrate the 4^th of July, we inserted firecrackers into cow pies and watched them explode.

I have no memory of shooting a gun myself, but I enjoyed carrying a gunny sack and trudging along with Daddy and the rest of the hunters. The gunny sack was for carrying whatever game they killed.

Me, my BFF Monique, my uncle Brant, my “uncle” Lewis, my cousin Karey, and my uncle Kevin

Those memories, along with so many others from the time I spent at The Farm, continued to surprise me throughout my day of travel from home to St. Louis yesterday. The most incredible part of the peacock sighting is I’m going to see Uncle Kevin and his family on Saturday. I haven’t seen them for many, many years. That peacock not only churned up my memories but also my anticipation for the reunion to come.

Do simple things flood your mind with memories? Do you take time to notice those simple things? Share your experience in the comments.