Post #501. The pressure is on.

Just kidding.

It has been a looooong weekend.

Saturday I rose before dawn (there's something wrong with getting up before the sun, IMHO) to haul youngest offspring to the bus for a track meet.

Somewhere between 9 and 10 P.M. I finally, gratefully, crashed in my recliner. Which led me to think designing a sleep chair, wherein one's neck and thoracic spine would be supported regardless of which way one fell over in an exhausted stupor, would be a good entrepreneurial idea. I'm leaving that project up to the mechanically-minded, because I can't figure out how to open the soda boxes in the fridge so the cans don't roll out on my feet.

Anyway. I still hate Sundays.

And I still don't have any leading or direction or guidance from the Spirit of God to go to (or back to) a traditional church, which leads me to believe there's something else He wants me to do. Something outside my comfort zone.

Ugh.

Wouldn't it be nice if God would stay in our comfort zones?

If He wouldn't push us, prod us, and provoke us to take action and follow Him into the unknown, into uncharted territory?

Yeah. That might be nice. But we wouldn't be content. There's a difference between comfortable and content.

What has He asked of YOU lately?

Since The Patrick and I can't even hang a picture together without getting irritated, we've agreed that we'll never attempt a DIY home remodeling project. I can't stand it. It's too messy. Too inconvenient. Full of unexpected obstacles and unpleasant discoveries. And, it always takes longer and costs more than expected.
That said, my Abba Father has me in the midst of a spiritual renovation that's turning out to be equally messy, inconvenient, and uncomfortable. Even worse, He seems to be keeping the project blueprints secret, presumably so I won't (again) attempt to perform a DIY version of what He has planned. I just have to keep trusting that my heavenly architect knows what He is doing, and has something good planned, because that's what He promised.

As with most professional renovation projects, stage one involves gutting the existing structure. Oh yeah, that's fun. Not. Wise renovators turn off the power and the gas so they can install new fixtures without risk of electrocution or explosions. Unfortunately, that means when you go to turn on the stove, the stove is not there. When you turn to the sink, the water is off. Everything you've come to depend and rely on is either missing, out of place, or out of order.


That spot where the pipe leaked and warped the floor, and you threw a rug over it? It's now a gaping hole, ready to be properly repaired. The dent in the wall where you threw the toaster across the room in a fit of rage and then patched the wall with spackle and paint? Not okay, according to the pros. Nope, to do it right, they strip it all down to the barest skeleton of the original design. It's quite a process. And when it's taking place internally, it's a bit painful.

And that's where I'm at... almost empty. 14+ years of hidden rot, a termite here or there, some hasty patch jobs, leaky pipes, dangerous wiring, faulty fixtures and obsolete appliances are being systematically done away with.

Spiritually speaking I'm talking about hidden wounds, old offenses, weak doctrines, lies the enemy planted that took root, emotional ruts, "stinking thinking" and old ways of doing and being that are not just futile and ineffective, they are dangerous.

I'm looking forward to the moment when Abba says, "Darling daughter, open your eyes and see what I have done." I know it will be good, better than I can ask or think. But right now? I'm getting back in that cocoon...  

photo by *~Dawn~* via PhotoRee

In my last post about spiritual seasons I said I would do a little research about what happens to trees and plants during autumn and winter. I knew trees and grass and other perennials don't actually die during the winter. What I didn't know is how important the processes are to the health and well-being of the plant/tree the importance of fall and winter. Not just for plants and trees, but for ourselves, spiritually speaking.

Leaves changing color and fluttering to the ground are probably the most obvious sign of autumn. Responding to the shortening hours of daylight, deciduous trees begin a process of self-preservation. Leaves are fragile in comparison to branches and trunks, unable to survive freezing temperatures. The tree shuts off the supply of chlorophyll (which supplies the green color). The yellows and oranges and reds are the result of other chemicals already present in the leaves, or produced during the light changes in the autumn.

photo by ganzoman	via PhotoRee

In other words, the tree senses what's coming, and begins to prepare. It stores food produced in the leaves during the summer to sustain itself, stocking up a "plant pantry" to feed upon throughout the winter. Although trees appear dead, the winter period is called dormancy. Similar to hibernation in many animals, plants are resting, relying on the food they've stored up during the spring and summer. Attempts to force growth during this season (fertilizing, for example) may actually harm the plant.

And something else is going on during those long, cold, months of winter ... the growth to come in the next spring and summer is protected and nurtured within the bud. Growth that is already prepared, already expected, already established. When "environmental conditions" are right, those buds will swell and blossom into the new life of spring.

photo by enggul via PhotoRee

Are you fretting over the dropping of your spiritual "leaves"? Fearful that spring will never come, and if it does, you'll be left behind?
Don't fret or fear. Start looking for the buds of new life. What "swells" in your heart when you think, talk, or hear about it? What thoughts and dreams and activities stir within you like a warm breeze? Yes, they may seem to be entirely different from anything you've done before, but that's all right ... God likes to do new things.

Meanwhile, enjoy the season you're in, whatever season it may be, because God has a plan for you, and that plan is good!

Last month I planted my vegetable garden. The first month or two of a garden project is excruciating for me. Will it fail? Will all the work I've put in to this patch of dirt be completely fruitless? What if the seeds are duds? Why are the weeds growing faster than the seeds? (Perhaps we should be eating the weeds.)

My "fairy" garden.

Most everything has sprouted now, and I've filled in some of the blank spaces where seeds simply disappeared ... eaten or washed away, who knows? The urge over the last month to dig in the dirt to check on the seeds that hadn't sprouted yet was strong. I resisted.
Mostly. It seems that "helping" things grow is not helpful at all.

Knee-high on the 4th of July. If you're a Barbie doll.

Move a little dirt to let that bean sprout come up and it gets too much sunlight and dies. Pick that dry seed shell off the squash sprout and the leaves never quite finish maturing, leaving the plant weak and pale.


I should know better. Somewhere I read a story about someone who tried to help a butterfly that was struggling to come out of its chrysalis. The butterfly died. The same is true for baby chicks coming out of their shells. The process—exhausting, painful, and difficult as it appears—is critical for healthy growth and maturity ... and not just for butterflies and bean sprouts.

Lettuce on June 12

How often do I jump into situations to rescue my children when they really need to work it through on their own? (For the record, I have done all of these things at least once.)

• Not letting an infant fuss and cry while he or she learns how to roll over, or pull up (or sit back down), or crawl or walk, or tie her shoes, or put on his own clothes.
• Serving as a live wake-up call for children who are old enough to set their own alarm clocks so they won't suffer the consequences of being late to school, work, or church.
• Finishing a science project, 4-H craft, or other assignment for him or her because they are "too tired" or it's "too hard."
• Selling the Girl Scout cookies, chocolate bars, or whatever, yourself, so your child won't "feel like a failure."
• Intervening in minor disagreements with your kids and their friends, boyfriends, girlfriends, etc. because you "just don't want them to get hurt."

Lettuce on July 4

Even worse, how often do I run around looking for someone to bail me out of uncomfortable, difficult, or downright unpleasant situations? Instead of asking for grace to grow, I start looking for the quick fix and the easy way out.

• The winning lottery ticket instead of trimming the budget.
• The magic fat-burning elixir instead of the boring diet and exercise plan.
• The one, particular miracle church service instead of the read-through-the-Bible-in-a-year, Scripture-memorization, time-on-your-knees-in-prayer program.

(Please don't misunderstand me... there are situations in which "assisted growth" can be necessary, appropriate, or an answer to prayer. It is not, however, conducive for long-term growth and healthy development.)


We have become a culture that despises the process. We want prepackaged, prearranged, prefabricated, pre-appointed everything.We don't want steps, stages, or "some assembly required." We want results. Immediately. Now. Yesterday. That mindset has made us much, much weaker physically, mentally, and emotionally than our pioneering forefathers.


New seasons of life always require growth and change—internal, external, or both. Let's determine to accept the processes that new growth requires, not with a hangdog face and sour attitude, but with joy and anticipation. We're going to have to "go through" sooner or later, if we want to have enough strength to stand and fly when we get to the other side!




A quick shout-out to Patty Wysong for coming up with this terrific meme! For more "From a2z4u & Me" posts, click the picture below.