My husband, he’s a funny guy. Hysterical really.
I remember some time ago talking to him about Mary and Martha.
With a sly grin and a twinkle in his eye he pointed out that I somehow manage to be just like them.
Like both Mary and Martha- the worst of them both.
We have a God who sees and cares and notices. He will not come undone. He remains unoverwhelmable. Grace for the Good Girl, chapter 5
I see the world as Martha sees it.
I see all the stuff that needs to be done.
Only, unlike Martha, I seem incapable of putting things into order.
I become undone. Overwhelmed.
I sit like Mary, but not at the feet of Christ.
I’m not tuned into His teaching.
Instead I hear the voice of condemnation ringing loud in my ears.
The voice that reminds me of all that I should be doing.
But the to-do list rolls out all at once, each item fighting to be done first.
I quickly realize I don’t have enough hands to do it all.
Not knowing where to move first I become paralyzed.
I’m too afraid to move in any direction. Nothing gets done.
In reality that’s a bit of an exaggeration.
If I really looked I’d see my house is basically clean already, I’d know there isn’t really much to do.
But this is not an exaggeration of how it feels.
Too often I allow my feelings to determine my reality.
This cycle is confirmation of my I’m not enoughness and perfectionistic tendencies.
It has something to do with following the rules, my need to do everything in the order it should be done.
The problem being that I’ve heard too many opinions about the order things should be done.
I’m still too afraid of displeasing the voices of loved ones past by determining my own order of doing things.
“Am I now trying to win the approval of human beings, or of God?”
I hear Paul’s voice ask with just a touch of accusation.
Because I know the scripture.
I know from reading it that this is not what God wants for me.
Service is an act of faith.
It isn’t me doing work for God,
but it is me trusting God to do the work in me.
I wanted to give myself permission to sit down on the inside
and live like I have a God who knows what He’s doing.
Grace for the Good Girl, chapter 5
I say I believe I have a God who knows what He’s doing,
But I fail to live as if I believe it to be true.
I fail to trust the God who knows what He’s doing.
Trust has been an ongoing struggle.
I’m too busy trying to please.
I’m too busy trying to control.
I’m too busy trying to do.
If I am trying to please God it is difficult for me to trust God.
But when I trust God, pleasing him is automatic.
Grace for the Good Girl, chapter 5.
As a good girl obedience comes easily for me.
I like rules. I feel safest when I know where the lines are.
I prefer to know precisely what’s expected of me.
Tell me a clear service target and I’ll hit it’s center almost every time.
But if you tell me just to trust I’m going to start to panic inside.
Trust is too unclear a request.
There’s nothing precise about trust.
Trust is all open-ended, and gray, and fuzzy.
I know how to do the physical act of washing the dishes.
I don’t know what the physical act of trusting looks like.
Even the definition of the word trust is unclear.
to have trust or confidence in; to rely or depend on.
to expect confidently; hope.
to permit to remain or go somewhere or to do something without fear of consequences.
It’s beautiful, warm, and fuzzy- but what does it mean?
How does a person do trust?
“…to do something without fear of consequences.”
A light-bulb moment.
All those shoulds keep me in fear.
My desire to please is born out of fear.
Trust is freedom from fear.
Trust is about letting go of the fear.
Truth: Trust is being without fear rather than doing because of fear.
For the next several Thursdays I will be writing my thoughts about Grace for the Good Girl. I would love to have you join me and the others in this author hosted book study. It’s not to late to join, just visit Emily Freeman’s blog, Chatting at the Sky.