Grab Your Hammer

The look on his face was priceless.  At 16 years old, my son is well accustomed to doing his own laundry. Yesterday, his dad, as an act of love and kindness folded his clean clothes. It was just a mundane moment of love... not difficult for Dad, right?  It took only minutes of his time.  But, to my son... it was a gift.

We heard the surprise and confusion in his voice, calling from upstairs, "Did you fold my laundry, Mom?"  Nope, I said.  It was Dad.

The look on his face, as he ran downstairs, was beautiful- such gratefulness.
One small act of love.  One small gift received.

My husband had told me that morning he had felt God's nudge to do it.  He quickly and quietly obeyed this prompting.  ...and reaped a tender moment with his boy.

The giving of love, the receiving of love.  Did that small act matter yesterday?  Did that count?

We tend to enumerate and count big things in our world, don't we?  There are certain 'big things' that we take note of and admire---changing the world kind of "big" things.  We count and keep track of the biggies.  Money, fame, admiration, beauty, service, and "likes" all are important if they are BIG.  Numbers.  Growing numbers.  If they can be counted or named.  Seen.

But, what if...

What if it really is just the small and mundane things that matter?

Are we all sold a bill of goods in the idea that we have to all do something "big" and significant?  How often have I heard a call to "change the world!" (the whole world, really!?) or, as a child, the mantra "you could even be President!"  Big things.  Presidential things.  Important things.

What if its just simply about the day-to-day, every day things of life... the cooking dinner, talking to a friend, driving to work, answering email,  'hello' to the shop attendant, praying, reading, exercising, cleaning the kitchen, sweeping a back porch...  these every day life realities--- what if they are truly the highest moments- ripe with the most significance?

I am reading a book right now that is stirring in me and prompting such profound discontent.  The book is titled and propagated as a book on contemplation, prayer, and journeying with God.  I read the author's continual reminders of all the 'big' things she has done and is doing because of, or alongside, her contemplation and prayer.  Almost as if prayer leads to doing great things.  Sprinkled and spread within the nooks and crannies of her writing are the assertion of work-with-impact in significant places.

What if prayer doesn't lead to great things... what if prayer is a great thing?

My small life, in a very small place,... my one-person-at-a-time, one moment-at-a-time life...  has been screaming at me as I read--- voices accusing me of laziness, not-enoughness, and nothingness.  Does it matter that I spent time in prayer today---praying for one small person in a small place?  Is that work of significance?  This critical voice tells me that my small life is less than.  What if that voice is lying to me?  What if...?

What if...

Twice this week I happened upon the story of Noah in Genesis.  At first glance, I felt the tug of this "huge" thing that Noah did.  Right?  It felt like an affirmation and nod to the accusations I have been feeling.  Noah had a huge impact!  He saved humanity from extinction, for goodness sake!  Or did he?

As I have been digging in and reading further, another thought has occurred to me---another Voice.

What did Noah actually do?  God saw the future.  God spoke.  God brought the animals.  God closed the door.  God brought the rain and sustained the little boat above the waves.  Really, when it comes down to it...Noah just built a boat.

He built a boat.

He picked up a hammer and some nails...  and made a really large boat.  That is actually what he did.

People build boats every day.  Right?  Johnny Cash wrote some songs and sung them.  Stephen King put some words on a screen.  And, Monet took some color and splashed it about---beautifully---on a canvas, or two.  But, actually, Cash, King, Monet and Noah really just lived their everyday life... eating, drinking, sleeping, cleaning, and living lives.  For better or worse, they danced their dance.  Just like you and me.

Color on a page.  Words on a screen.  Songs on an instrument.  A nail and a hammer.

With this thinking in mind, a new phrase sits with me now when I think about Noah's story. There is a profound and huge statement in Genesis 6:22... "Noah did precisely everything the Lord commanded him to do".

There it is!  That's it, right?!

My husband, yesterday, felt God's whisper to fold laundry...  and he obeyed.  If writing Scripture today, would God inspire the words, "And Dave did precisely everything the Lord commanded him to do."

Oh, how I long for this to be true of me!

The "whatever you do, whatever you eat or drink, do it all to the glory of God"(1 Corinthians 10:31) and "whatever you do, word or deed, do it all in the name of Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father" (Colossians 3:17)

What if I was like Noah... I go about my day, listening to God's command and doing "exactly what God commanded". What if I pick up my hammer and nails and build a boat?  What if my task today is to pray?  What if He nudges me to worship?  What if my folding laundry life is the big thing for today... the obedient, worshipful, honoring thing that God would have me do.

What is the look on God's face when we obey and actually do what He wants, I wonder?  I would guess its profoundly beautiful and priceless.

Creativity Unleashed and the Battle Rages

In an effort to incorporate and 'lean into' a bit more fun in my life, I began watercolor painting in June.  I am enjoying the process and have been painting frequently--- in some cases even losing track of time (which never happens in my life!).

On a side note, that is a definition of 'fun' I once heard.  "Fun is when you are doing something and loose track of time".  According to this definition, I never have fun and my husband is absolutely always having fun!!  Which may or may not be true.

Joking aside, I am indeed having fun!  But, I can honestly say that this fun has had it's challenges and the enjoyment is often under siege.  Let me explain.

I don't think I am alone when it comes to a perfectionistic tendency.  I know that the critical voices, and the judgmental reality and struggle, come alongside any type of creativity.  I have yet to meet one author, one visual artist, dancer, singer, or musician that hasn't had their own battle.  The fierce fight with thoughts of all sorts...'didn't hit that note','missed that step', 'could be a bit more profound', 'doesn't look quite right'...   Judgment seems pretty constant when trying to create.

These negative voices have been loud and intense at times.  Just to be clear, by and large, the 'voices' I am talking about are almost always and exclusively in my head.  ...the inner critic, some call it.  The imagined judgment.  Or, the very real criticism that Stephanie has of Stephanie's work.  She can be really, really mean.

The other day I tore up, ripped in half, a piece of art I had been working on for a week.  I was fed up with the painting and threw it away.  When I told my son, he said (with this tongue firmly in his cheek) "Mom, are you going to cut off your ear any time soon?" (think:  Van Gogh)  No, son... I am not!  I laughed at his words and appreciated his reference.  But, here's the deal.  Creativity can be really hard.  Why am I so mean to myself?

It wasn't long ago--- even a few years ago---that I was in adamant, verbal denial of my creative abilities, at all.  "I am not a creative person", I would say to my husband.  He disagreed just as adamantly as I denied the fact.  I finally understand that every human being, being created in the likeness of our Father, is 'creative' by nature.  We create all the time, just as He creates all the time.  Call it cooking, baking, email, organization...  Call it what you like, we---as beings---create.  We are made to create beautiful, wonderful, and new things every single day.

Anyway, so... yes, I am creative.  So are you.  But, unlike God--- I create imperfectly.  And, there lies the rub.  I have been wrestling within this battle, indeed, as I paint, or write, or speak... sometime even when I cook!

Is my Father judging my picture?  Is He pointing out the flaws in the brush strokes or angle?  No!  By no means!  We, ourselves, are better parents than that, right?  What do we do when our children bring us their art work? We oooo and we ahhh and we enjoy the beauty they create--- pasting it to our refrigerators and posting it to our walls!

Why?  Why are we so mean to ourselves?  I know I am not alone.

Yesterday another friend voiced her creative struggle.  With deep frustration she blurted out, "But... I keep thinking... what is the point?  Why am I even doing this?  What does it produce?"

She vocalized a second problem and battlefield within creativity:  pragmatism.

Second to perfectionism is the issue of pragmatism.  Ah... the modern idea that everything has to be useful or practical.  And, if I am anything, I am practical--- practical to a fault.

My watercolor paintings have very little (if any) use.  Okay, yes,... to ease this discomfort, I have made a few birthday cards.  That's practical!  But, really, I now own a pile---ever deepening pile--- of 'useless' paintings.  Sunsets, buildings, landscapes, flowers.  Why?  For what purpose?

Oh the battle rages!

Immediately when she said those words in frustration, I understood.  I deeply understood.  But, on the heels of the understanding was---literally--- a picture of a bright flower in a field of wild flowers, followed by the image of a giraffe.  A flower and a giraffe.  That's what came to mind.  Flower... bright and beautiful.  Here today and gone tomorrow.  Why?  What purpose is that splash of color?  And, a giraffe...  why?  So creative and so weird and ...fun and bold and bright.  Beautiful.  Why?

So, as the creation battle continues to rage, I will press in and lean into the fun.  I will make color on page... I tell myself.  I am creative, just like my God.  He splashes color on a page every single day.  So can I.

I will paint the weird, fun, bold and bright.  And, like a child... I can do this for no "purpose" and my Father can enjoy it, in all it's imperfection.

As a beluga whale was made to swim.  I was made to create.  So, create I must!  And, maybe, just maybe I will have fun and loose track of time.

Today. Sit down and eat.

It just jumped out at me.  She said it, really, just in passing.  Smack dab in the middle of another story she said it.  And, in that moment, it was as if from the computer Skype screen it jumped out and snatched my heart.  

There are those moments.  They are often small, really.  Small, yes, but not insignificant. I think they are profound moments to be alert to---watch for and be awake.  

It was just in passing.  It rolled off her tongue.  What is He inviting you to today?  she said.  

What. ... His. ...Invitation.  ...You. ...Today.  

Today.  Now.  

Recently a few friends have shared with me the pain and suffering of the dark, grey hues of an unclear future.  These friends look ahead and don't know what to do.  All in remarkably different situations and circumstances. All are uneasy, in the least.   Some are truly panicked. All deeply afraid and even angry.  What was/is God doing?  What is coming?  What am I supposed to do?  I don't know what to do?  It makes no sense.  There is no path forward.  I have heard these questions and statements spoken over and over again.  I have been troubled with them, holding their pain, and praying for each one.  Today, I was reminded me that in each case the worries are about tomorrow---all about the future. 

The future.  Not today.  

Psychological studies say that we spend at least 75% of our time thinking about the future--- be it next week, next month, or ten years from now.  And, other statistical analytical studies show that 95% of what we think about (that 75 % of the time) never comes true... or never even shows up as a reality.  

Tomorrow.   ...or even tomorrow's tomorrow!  

What about the now, Stephanie? What is He inviting you to today? 

The question 'what am I supposed to do?'  ...when asked about the now... is usually, and generally, not that difficult.  What am I supposed to do now?  Well... now ...I need to take a shower, or clean this pile of laundry, or answer that email, or make some dinner, or go to bed.  

It is the future that trips us up.  It is the future that can trip me up.  What is around the corner?  What do I need to prepare myself for?  Or, what will happen if...?  or What am I supposed to do?  

I am struck that regardless of where I am on the journey; whether in the dark valley or the green pastures (Psalm 23), it is very clear what I am supposed to do in the now.   God tells me.  If it's the valley... I am to sit and feast at the table.  Sit down, eat and receive.  

His Word.  His Presence.  God's very self is the food I need as I 'walk' in the valley of the shadow of death.  Let Him pour over me His oil, Himself.   This is the invitation for today... in this dark valley. 

If I find myself in the green pastures...  what am I to do?  Lie down.  Follow.  Rest.  Enjoy.  Be refreshed.  Again, pretty clear what I am to do today.  

As over simplistic, over used, misused, and even trite as it may sound or feel as I type these words on a page: "Do not worry about tomorrow" ... these words feel utterly essential for my heart today.  

For my friends.  For me.

I want to look for His invitation to sit down and eat.  Today.  Or, to wade in the water, rest and lie down.  Can I just get on with it and fix dinner, or write that email, or fold that laundry while feasting on Him?  Can I simply do what I need to do today, and let His love and goodness follow and surround me?  

Lord, what do You have for me today?