New Year, New Perspective?
It’s been a while since I sat down and wrote for my blog. I’ve felt over-motivated in other areas and underqualified with my writing endeavors as of late. The fall felt like a whirlwind of sad circumstances for a growing number of people I know or am acquainted with and honestly, I was afraid to begin writing new material because I thought that would cause bad things to happen to me. Yes, that thought is 100% irrational and unfounded, but sometimes preaching about our faith opens us up to the spiritual warfare in the world and I didn’t really want to take any chances, even if I’m not the superstitious type. I also don’t feel qualified to be writing about all things OCD since my own struggle with it has improved much more than it has for others I know or follow on social media. I don’t have a degree in anything theological or mental health-related, and I don’t read my Bible nearly enough to warrant preaching any spiritual mumbo jumbo on the internet. Frankly, it all began to feel like unneeded naval gazing, and I had to put this kind of writing down.
Then enters my dear friend Pat. Pat is a woman I met in Bible study. She’s in her eighties now and her health is declining. She was a successful businesswoman who was independent and fierce, but who knows how to love others deeply. I’ve been in a small group with her for a couple of years but never hung out with her outside of that precious group of women. Despite having hearing loss, she came to Bible study and confidently asked all of us to speak loudly and clearly. She bravely communicated her needs in that challenging social setting. I admired her greatly, even without many intimate interactions. When she got sick, she included me in the list of women she felt comfortable letting into her world; I was deeply honored to oblige.
When my day to visit her came, I felt butterflies making my way up the curved walkway to her decorated front door. I didn’t know what version of Pat I would interact with that morning. She’d had recent good days and confused ones, so I prayed to see a comfortable and out-of-pain version of Pat that morning. Let me make myself clear when I say that I typically run swiftly from situations like this. I don’t have the caretaking gene that my mother and sister have. No, instead I am the scared stiff kind of sick person visitor who can’t anticipate where to move the oxygen cord or deduce whether someone needs an ice pack or heating pad. These situations leave me wide open to a cascade of self-criticism and awkward floundering.
Pat’s wide smile disarmed me immediately upon entering her well-loved home. I plopped myself down on the seat of her walker as we fell into chatting about Christmas and how she was feeling. Her calm and sweet nature was contagious, allowing my insecurities to melt away with each warm moment. When she asked me about what I’ve been writing about lately for my blog I felt my face turn red with my confession that I don’t feel worthy or qualified to be writing about life, anxiety, or God. Her eyes widened as she registered my words spoken into her special microphone and she said, “well, I wouldn’t let that stop you. You can’t qualify by doin’ anyway.”
I could only chirp out the reply, “well said.” Her words blasted with the truth.
Not you, me, or anybody in this world can qualify by doing, either good or bad. Jesus is who qualifies us; in other words, makes us whole, redeems us, and presents us faultless before God. His work on the cross is what makes any moment, a moment. He takes our meager offerings and makes them valuable. We are His instruments, so we can move through life bravely knowing our works are a response of appreciation and obedience considering what He has done for us. Our actions or lack of actions don’t qualify us for love, forgiveness, or heaven. It is only by the bloodied path Christ walked for us that our chains of insecurity and self-doubt can fall off as we stand on the promises of Jesus. We can boldly respond by acting in the here and now for the glory of God alone. What freedom! Thanks to Pat’s wisdom I am reminded of God’s goodness in my broken attempts to write about how He works in my often plain and average life.
Does all this mean I’ll be writing more? I sure hope so.
