Storms, Nail Polish and Salmon Patties: Meeting Me (Part 1)
I’ve been posting on this website a couple of times a month for about a year now. I write stuff from my porch swing when I should be working in my house, and at the kitchen counter while supper is burning on the stove, and on the living room couch while my husband is watching dumb stuff on TV. You read it while you are at your desk because work is your other option, and in your bathroom because there is not much else to do there, and on your living room couch because some member of your family is watching dumb stuff on TV.
We have developed a relationship, you and I. And I think it is time you know more about what makes me . . . me.
My favorite color is blue. I think the painting of toenails is a tremendous waste of time. Teaching my kids to drive makes me cuss like a sailor.
I love to watch a storm roll in.
I hate salmon patties.
I am indecisive. But then again, maybe I’m not.
I use few words when I pray. I haven’t had a regular, quiet time in . . . well . . . ever. My job in the body is to remind the other members that God is still in charge and it . . . whatever it is . . . is going to be okay.
I ponder the remarkable things of God. And then, I write about them.
Awhile ago, I pondered the question, “What keeps God from getting bored with being God?”
Since Adam’s first day, God has been taking care of mankind. You would think that, by now, He would be tired of holding the whole world in his hands. You would think that, by now, He would have lost interest in watching over us. Why is He still interacting with us? Surely, He has already experienced everything we have to offer.
Living in the Spirit? Centuries of people have done it.
Walking by faith? Every generation has its heroes.
Prayers of praise and petition? They have never stopped.
Sermons preached? Testimonies given? Missionaries sent? There have been too many to count.
It has all been done. So, after all these years, why is God still calling people to Himself? Why hasn’t He grown tired and bored with what we can do? What is it that keeps Him interested?
I think it is me. (This, of course, applies to you too but I can’t write from inside your head.)
What makes this time and place in history different than the others is me. Today, God can have a relationship with me . . . a small-town, Kentucky girl who sends Him abounding gratitude in the Spring when the trees begin to bloom . . . who prays in church with her eyes open . . . and who worships with the words she writes because, although she can carry a tune, she can’t keep it in only one key.
However, for our relationship to be unique for God, it has to be a relationship with the me He created . . . the me He thoughtfully planned and intricately formed in my mother’s womb . . . not with the me who forces myself into a pattern that looks like someone else.
I used to try to impress Him with long, profound prayers. But my mind tended to wander off before my mouth was through. It was more pointless than profound. God never wanted me to pray with eloquence. He created somebody else to do that. All I need is one word. He gave me the understanding that one word uttered goes straight to the throne of God.
Although I often find God in the pages of the Bible, it does not happen during a regular quiet time. He doesn’t seem to mind. He created me to enjoy the color of the sky and the force of a storm. I find Him in those things and I wonder if that gives Him pleasure. Does he enjoy surprising me with glimpses of Himself in the things that I love? Is playing with me what makes today different for Him than all His other days as God?
I wish that I was better at making decisions. He doesn’t care that I am indecisive. I am the child who is always pulling on His robe, interrupting the conversations with His other children, and saying, “Excuse me. Hey, hey, excuse me, Father. Could you tell me one more time what it is I’m supposed to do here?” Not all His kids need Him in just that way.
As a Christian, I want to speak grace well and serve God faithfully. But, frankly, those things have already been done.
The one thing I can offer God that he doesn’t already have and no one else can give Him is the act of enjoying me as he made me to be.
What will it look like? I’m still working that out. But as I learn to be me in the presence of the Lord, I will no longer follow a pattern that doesn’t fit. I won’t speak words that I don’t mean.
And, when I finally sit down at the Father’s banquet table, He will serve me all the things He created me to like and there won’t be a salmon patty anywhere in sight.