Hi all! It’s been a while. Hope you had a sweet Christmas and New Year with so much grace for the season. As I shared, there was a chunk of time that was pretty emotional for me, but it ended up being overshadowed by the rich time we had as a family, especially with Madison coming home from college to play. We took Chase ice skating for the first time, which proved successful thanks to the help of a seal named Max. We went to the kids’ rock climbing gym, where Madison and I joined Chase in the fun while looking oddly large in a sea of small people. We went to the San Diego Zoo, where we were smitten with the baboons, of all creatures. My heart was full.
With a few blog post ideas rolling around in my head during the break, I couldn’t wait to get back to writing. But when the holiday bustle gave way to regular routine, I found myself wanting to garden and research puppies and go to Marshall’s instead. The few times I did sit down to write, the words on the page just wouldn’t take shape. I’m pretty sure this is at least partly due to the unwelcome appearance of some old self-loathing that seemed to come out of nowhere, derailing my best intentions.
This morning, I had a great conversation with my mom and got some much-appreciated prayer (thanks, mom!). Something she said stole my heart and made a deep imprint on my mind. It was this: “You are trying to find an instrument to play, but you are the instrument and God is the one making music.” You guys, this is exactly it. The self-loathing I experience often has to do with failing to perform as I’d like to. The people around me seem to perform with beauty and grace, while my efforts produce off-pitch squeals that only draw attention to my inability.
But what if it’s not about finding an instrument – some area of life where I can excel – and learning to perform it really well so I can join the symphony of life, community and service? What if it is about being undone through surrender – of who I would like to be, how I would like others to see me, what song I’d like to play – so that I am an instrument totally yielded to the masterful hands of my Lord who can, through my life, produce notes of the sweetest, deepest resonance that ring in perfect unity with all the others He’s drawn to Himself?
Because we are His, we already belong in the orchestra. We are not disqualified and never were. Where we have run into problems is our insistence to play our own song; to consider our music to be what we can create in our own ability. We compare our performance to others; maybe trying to sound louder to be heard or cooler to fit in or fancier to impress. All we then produce, no matter how well executed, is a cacophony of a billion competing pieces playing simultaneously.
That is, until we yield our roles as composers and performers and become unique instruments in a heavenly orchestra, breathing out each note with heart and passion in perfect harmony with millions of other instruments, all playing His song. It is a song that began before creation, and one that will go on for the rest of eternity. Its beauty will change hearts and transform lives. And we belong here, right in the middle of this music; allowing the notes of His story to shine through our lives. This, my friends, is the best news I’ve heard in a long time. I hope you are encouraged too.
Walls that for a lifetime have kept love outside for fear that it didn’t belong inside; they are crumbling. How could they stand here, in this sacred embrace of vulnerability met with overpowering grace? It has brought me to my knees. But there is no place I’d rather be.
I have been in a wildly distracted place. My phone has been in hand first thing in the morning as though an inbox of immaterial emails can’t wait until my heart has had a chance to orient itself to a new day and the One who created it, and then dozens of times throughout the day as thoughts fly immediately from my mind to my iphone’s keyboard. Some of the things I consider most important have taken a backseat to what will gratify in the moment, not unlike a cheap sugar fix that will leave me unsatisfied and craving more. It’s not that I haven’t been accomplishing good things too. I have. But sometimes good things can be accomplished out of order or serve as a distraction themselves, leaving a lack of internal rest and a mind that can’t be still.
The downside is that my thought life can also be very self-focused. It’s where all those measuring sticks live with their nagging doubts about my ability to meet their standards, making me feel like a perpetual child whose head never reaches the height mark for the rides I most want to go on. But instead of height, it is: 1) Beauty – something that has always felt so important and yet out of reach. I would settle for “decent” with the ability to dress it up well, but that’s never been my thing. And, 2) Success. By this, I don’t mean a winning career with a cushy salary and fine things; those have never interested me. But the idea that there’s something I’m good enough at to hold up and say, “See, I’m good at this so I have worth,” preferably in a form others can recognize. I’d probably settled for decent here too, with the ability to dress it up a little. But that’s never been my thing either.
