31 Days: Sleeping in the storm

Matthew 8:23-27

Then Jesus got into the boat and started across the lake with his disciples. Suddenly, a fierce storm struck the lake, with waves breaking into the boat. But Jesus was sleeping. The disciples went and woke him up, shouting, “Lord, save us! We’re going to drown!” Jesus responded, “Why are you afraid? You have so little faith!” Then he got up and rebuked the wind and waves, and suddenly there was a great calm. The disciples were amazed. “Who is this man?” they asked. “Even the winds and waves obey him!”

In the Mark (4:37-38) account of this event we find that “A furious squall came up, and the waves broke over the boat, so that it was nearly swamped. Jesus was in the stern, sleeping on a cushion.”

Jesus is a man who knows how to rest! He takes the opportunity that presents itself – a cushion in the back of a boat. It doesn’t sound all that comfortable at the best of times. So how is it that Jesus could sleep in a sinking boat in the middle of a violent storm? I find this hard to get my head around, but I also find myself concluding that although probably very tired at the end of the day, Jesus was also a man fully at peace, trusting and resting in the Father.

The disciples who were experienced fishermen had no doubt faced storms before, but this one must have been extremely bad to frighten them so much. When they woke Jesus, shouting at him to save them from drowning, they must have expected that he could in fact save them! It’s unclear how, because they certainly weren’t expecting him to still the storm.

Jesus rebuked them for their lack of faith, and it seems apparent that they still didn’t fully comprehend who he really was.

What about us? What is our faith like? What is our response to the storms of life? Do we become worried or afraid? Or do we remember that Jesus is in the boat with us, and put our trust in him?

This is Day 29 of The Rhythm of Rest series (Write 31 Days challenge).

Image credit: morguefile.com

Parting ways with Perfectionism

  

“Oh, you’re one of those,” he said as he walked into the kitchen at work.

I was re-loading the dishwasher. Some of my work colleagues seem to crack open the dishwasher just far enough to slide a dish or a coffee mug into the nearest vacant space. Others just leave their dirty cups and cutlery in the sink. 

I’m not the kitchen police, but if I’m in the kitchen and there are dirty dishes in the sink I load them in the dishwasher. In the process I end up reorganising the dishes so that everything fits better, and gets washed properly. At least that’s what I tell myself when I’m lining up all the mugs on one side and the glasses on the other, and straightening the plates that have been dumped at an angle in the rack.

My colleague caught me re-organising. He is not one of “those.” In fact he cares so little about where items go in a dishwasher that his wife has banned him from loading anything into the dishwasher at home. 

I didn’t want to be labelled as “one of those”, but then I had to acknowledge to myself that I do struggle with being a perfectionist. 

You wouldn’t know it from the state of my house or my email Inbox, but being a perfectionist is not about always achieving perfection. It’s about wanting everything to be perfect, and being uncomfortable, uptight, disappointed or upset when things are not perfect, even when reality tells me it’s not possible or even important.

It also means I’m constantly afraid of trying anything that I can’t be confident that I’ll at least do well, even if I can’t do it perfectly. And that rules out trying a lot of new things. It’s no wonder that I have a spectacular capacity for procrastination. I’ve spent most of my life trying to avoid the risk of failure. 

I set the benchmark ridiculously high for just about anything I do, and if perfection is the standard I set for myself, then it becomes the standard I set for everyone else. And that makes me critical and judgmental – critical of myself and critical of others.

I’m trying to control my life so that I get the right outcomes. If I don’t get things perfectly right I’m afraid that I won’t be liked, approved or loved. And then where will I be?

But I tell myself that’s not really true. I think I need to be perfect, but then I don’t connect with other people when they seem to have it all perfectly together. They’re intimidating. 

I connect with people when they are open and honest about their struggles and their mess. Not in a “woe is me, I can never get it right” kind of way, but in an authentic “this is me and this is where I am on the journey” kind of way. 

Perfectionism is like a noose around my neck, like control underwear, like a boa constrictor; it’s squeezing the life out of me.

I want to be free to try new things, to make mistakes and learn from them. I want to be someone who gives and receives grace. I want to become the person I was made to be.

I want to part ways with perfectionism.

I don’t know exactly what that will look like yet, but I want to find out.

Image credit: morguefile.com

What peanut M&Ms and the dentist have to do with flourishing

What does flourishing look like? Today it looks an orange temporary filling in my left molar and mascara stains on my cheeks. Let me explain.

My past experiences with the dental profession have not been great, and for over ten years I’ve been avoiding them altogether. That is until the other night when a chunk of my tooth broke on a peanut M&M. My avoidance days were over, and in a move of uncharacteristic decisiveness on my part I rang the next day to make an appointment.

Fast forward to this morning. I was a little anxious but thought I was holding it together quite well … until I stepped into the dental surgery.

By the time I’d filled in the new patient information card and sat down to wait I was rapidly spiralling into a hot mess. When the dental nurse called me in I had peeled off my coat, scarf and jacket and was trying to staunch a flood of tears with a tissue. I hadn’t realised I was that anxious.

Thanks to a lovely and understanding dentist, forty-five minutes later I walked out with my temporary filling and two new appointments for a permanent filling and to deal with a few other minor issues that have developed over the dentist-free years. (Note: I’m not encouraging anyone else to avoid regular dental check-ups, I’m very lucky not to have any major issues.)

So why do I call this flourishing? Because today I stopped avoiding one of my fears and faced it. And despite the anxiety and the tears, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it might be.

Yes, it helped to have a dentist who understood my anxiety, and who had a strategy for helping me through it. And that’s the point, I got through it instead of running away from it.

I call it flourishing because I walked out feeling a little lighter and a little stronger, as if a weight had been lifted, and it has.

I call it flourishing because today I feel just a little more like the me I was created to be.

Image sourced here.

When it’s a good idea to turn your back on the dragon

Bard stands with his son atop a ruined, burning tower, clutching the last black arrow that can pierce Smaug’s hide and bring the dragon down. Everything around them in Laketown is on fire, the windlass required to launch the enormous arrow has been destroyed, and Bard is forced to MacGyver his way out of the situation using his son’s shoulder to balance and aim the arrow.

Bard’s son Bain is panting and quivering with fear as Smaug tells Bard that the only thing he can look forward to is his own death. The boy looks over his shoulder at Smaug, scales glowing and enormous wings beating, coming for them, ready to set them alight with his breath.

Bard calls back his son’s attention.

“Bain, look at me. You look at me.”

Bain turns back to his father, and even though he is still afraid, he keeps his eyes fixed on Bard, his back squared to the terrifying Smaug. Bard sights on the one chink in Smaug’s scaly armour, hauls back and releases the arrow …

This scene from The Hobbit: the Battle of the Five Armies, more than any other, was the image I took away with me from the cinema. That moment hit me in the chest as I was watching the film.

“You look at me.”

That’s Jesus’ call to me – to fix my eyes on him and not the things that make me afraid. He is asking me to trust him, to watch what he is doing, and to join him in it.

“You look at me.”

It’s his call to you too.

… And let let us run with endurance the race God has set before us. We do this by keeping our eyes on Jesus, the champion who initiates and perfects our faith.

Hebrews 12:2a (NLT)

Monthly Musings – January

It’s a new year, and I’m trying something new here with a monthly round-up I’m calling Monthly Musings (unless I – or you – come up with a catchier title). So what did I discover, experience, try, or learn in January? Here are a few things I’d like to share with you:

• #OneWord365 – my word for this year is TRUST. I’ve felt the Lord whispering in the quiet corners of my mind, nudging me when the muscles in my neck, shoulders and back have begun to tighten with worry or stress.  Being naturally inclined to want things under control, trust and I don’t have a good history. One of my prayers for this year is to walk more closely with the Lord, learning to trust him with the large and the small things of life; to rest in him. Let’s face it, rest is not really an option without trust. “Trust in the LORD with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding. Seek his will in all you do, and he will show you which path to take.” Proverbs 3:5-6.

• Frozen (the movie) – Granted, I’ve been a little slow to discover this one, but better late than never. Along with the music (and Olaf the snowman), I loved how it dealt with the theme of fear creating barriers that shut people out, isolating us from those we might love instead. As an introvert who struggles with fear, it was good to be reminded that isolation is not the answer.

• The One Year Hearing His Voice Devotional by Chris Tiegreen. I’ve been appreciating the wisdom in these pages all through January. Here’s a little taste from the entry on 15 January: “…listening to God’s voice moment by moment is necessary for our spiritual lives and growth. If we don’t hear Him, we don’t thrive.”

• Bethel Music has just released a new worship CD/DVD: We will not be shaken. I’m currently playing it on repeat at home and in the car, so it’s safe to say I’m loving it. The opening lines to the title track (which is also the first song on the CD) are: “For we trust in our God, and through his unfailing love, we will not be shaken.” That’s a good start right there.

What did you discover in January?