Broad place

I recently got rid of an old stereo system. I'm still shopping around for a new one, and as you can see, I've reserved a spot for the new one (where my old one used to be). I was expecting my cats to adopt the empty spot, but they have completely respected the vacant area. I took this photo a month ago, and they still haven't touched the empty spot. Maybe they know it's off-limits because Mama has something special planned for it.

"My foot stands in an even place; in the congregations I will bless the Lord." (Psalm 126:12)

"He also brought me out into a broad place; He delivered me because He delighted in me." (Psalm 18:19)

This time of year (Christmas and New Year's Eve) is always a natural time for reflection. 2016 will be the year that I turn 40. That will be a monumental occasion indeed.

For me personally, I felt like God told me that this past year (2015) would be like a blank canvas (which gave me hope) and a year of surprises (which made me excited on one hand and apprehensive on the other). I thought 2015 turned out to be a year of surprises indeed:

1) I grew to hate my job (bad surprise)

2) I got a new job which I love (good surprise)

3) my cat got dangerously sick (very bad surprise)

4) my car got pummeled with marble- and pea-size hail out of nowhere (what the heck), but it wasn't damaged at all (thank You, Father!), and all that was just today (seriously)

And the above was just a tiny list of highlights.

For 2016, again for me personally, I feel like God has told me that the coming year will be like a kaleidoscope. There will be a variety of things going on (I think in my heart and also externally with my circumstances), and God will be churning some things around and letting some things come into place in a very cool way. I am definitely looking forward to it.

But in the meantime, I am here in a broad place, kind of like what the psalmists talked about in the Bible, and kind of like that open, vacant spot in my home that is reserved for something special. Here in this broad place, I've been enjoying some rest from (spiritual) war, I'm digging the peace, I'm reflecting on the things that God has done in my life, and I'm more than likely being sharpened in preparation for the upcoming battles. Not that I'm looking for a fight. It's just that, as Eugene Peterson would say, I belong to the God of angel armies. He's got some stuff for me to do.

So, while I've been here reflecting in my broad place, I've noticed some important things:

1) I'm a LOT tougher than I was about 20 years ago. When God changes people, He tends to make them softer and gentler. I think He did that with me, PLUS He made me scary enough to spit nails simultaneously. Check out a photo of me from 1997 when I was a senior in college:

 

Aw, look at that innocent face, that friendly smile, those eyes that say, "Hi, everybody! I love you! Can you please walk all over me today?" Poor kid. Never knew what hit her. Contrast that with a selfie that I took of myself recently.

 

Wow, look at that hardened brow, that absent-yet-present scowl, those eyes that appear to be saying, "Hey, kid, give me all your lunch money," or "I hate everybody in the universe" or "Hey, demon, get your scummy fallen-angel paws away from my sheep whom I love, before I break your twerpy little neck." I hope my eyes are really saying just that last one. (I think perhaps that Goth wannabe/curly-haired Trinity from The Matrix/Mexican-gangster way that I do my hair now adds to the intensity.)

For the record, I get that intense look in my eyes pretty often, and for many different reasons, most of which are harmless; most of the time it's just because I'm thinking too hard. But I do get greeted with a lot of fist bumps instead of handshakes or side-hugs.

If you've followed my blog for the past few years, perhaps you've seen me go through some pretty hard stuff. I think God has been using it to turn me into a dangerously fierce warrior. I'm still learning how to use the weapons He's given me.

For example, a couple of weeks ago one morning, I was eating breakfast, reading the Bible, and minding my own business when a demon manifested itself in my living room. I barely flinched. I was like, "Well, well, well. Who have we here?" The demon was like, "Strife." I rebuked it, but it didn't go away right away. So, I stood to my feet and cornered it properly with some spiritual warfare until it went away. (It's a good thing it did, because strife was the last thing I needed around me that particular day.) Bullying demons is fun, but what's most effective is siccing Jesus and His name at them. My instinct is to charge at them with my human brawn, but what tortures them horrifically is being reminded that Jesus shed His blood on the cross, died in my place, and rose again on the third day. Heh. That'll make 'em scream.

2) I'm a leader. I kind of knew this already (especially since technically every Christian is a leader, whether they want to be or not), but this is something in my life that God has highlighted for me recently. For example, before I sang in the choir at my church last weekend, I prayed and asked God what was on His heart for me that weekend. If I remember correctly, He said, "You're a leader. Just show up and be yourself. If you show up and be yourself, everyone else will show up and be themselves. I need everyone to be themselves." Indeed.

I'm a shepherd. I think that's one reason why God has been toughening me up these past couple of decades. Shepherds in the Bible lived their lives alone while they guarded and took care of their sheep, and they needed to be crazy enough to do things like kill anything (e.g., lions, bears) that attacked their sheep. They laid down their lives for their sheep (like what Jesus said in John 10:15).

That's the part about the Christmas story that touched me this year: When God's Son was born as a baby on this earth, He announced it to the shepherds first. I'm sure I've heard pastors talk about this before, but this year it hit home for me the deepest: God my Shepherd announced His Son's birth to His peeps first.

So, as a leader/shepherd, I need to be careful. People follow my lead when I don't even realize that I'm leading. They copy me. They take their cues from me. They desire my affirmation.

And they challenge me. One thing about being scary enough to spit nails is that, well, I can accidentally scare people. I can be very abrasive very unintentionally. So, I've been learning how to walk in "grace under pressure." I think sometimes people think I'm Google, because they sometimes ask me questions (that I don't know the answer to) that can easily be answered by doing some quick research online. One time somebody asked me a question about something that was completely out of my realm of authority, and then they yelled at me when I told them that I didn't know: "But you're a leader! You're supposed to know!" Um, sorry. All I know is the notes we're supposed to be singing. If you have an administrative question, please allow me to direct you to an administrator who can assist you.

I think I understand why Jesus kept trying to get away from the crowds so that He could be by Himself and pray. Maybe He was like, "Hey, I love you, but I really need to work some stuff out with My Father before I go crazy."

"Therefore be imitators of God as dear children." (Ephesians 5:1)

3) I'm God's child. I've noticed recently that God calls us His children, not His adults. (Even though technically many of us are adults.) Children need an incredible amount of attention and supervision, even if they're old enough to take care of themselves. They think they know everything, when in reality they still have SO much to learn. They're usually either in a hurry to grow up, or they're afraid to mature. If they throw a tantrum, they will make life embarrassingly miserable for everyone around them. And yet they are incredibly endearing, impeccably honest, infinitely precious, and completely vulnerable. They need adults to protect them from all kinds of harm. They have the potential for lightning-speed growth, so you need to give them a steady stream of nurturing. They genuinely want to learn how to live life, so they need someone around them pretty much all the time to guide them, direct them, and teach them how to live life the right way.

And that's how God my Father sees me.

When I'm wandering around His house doing foolish things, throwing tantrums, and strutting around like I own the place, I need to let Him patiently correct me, discipline me, and reroute me to where I need to be. He does it for His name's sake, and He does it because He loves me. I'm infinitely precious to Him, and I need Him to protect me, or I'll be toast.

"For which of you, intending to build a tower, does not sit down first and count the cost, whether he has enough to finish it...?" (Luke 14:28)

4) Towers are expensive. I heard a friend say once that there's a difference between "family" and "relatives." He was completely right. "Family" knows you. "Relatives" only share a gene pool with you.

Years ago, when God told me to leave my parents, and when I finally went through with it, I didn't fully realize to what degree I would truly be leaving my family. Interacting with relatives isn't scary anymore, but it's incredibly awkward. I can't be completely myself, or I will get judged, criticized, and/or stifled. Just like I did with my birth parents, I have to water down my personality anytime I interact with my relatives. I can't talk openly about God with most of them, so I have to kind of speak in Pharisee/religious code. (For example, "At church last weekend where I was worship-shepherding in the choir, I cried while I watched hundreds of people take communion" would translate into something like "At church last weekend, I sang in the choir.") I hate it.

I think I've gotten to the point where I'm used to people thinking the subject of "family" is a safe subject for small talk, so I'm prepared for it. And I think I've become an expert at changing the subject. Have I told you lately how much I love my kitties? Also, honestly, people are so willing to talk about themselves that they'll let me ask them about their "family," and they'll be quite eager to reply and completely forget about my vague answer to their "family" question. Sneaky chuckle.

I'm not quite sure that God would have expected me to count this much detail along with my tower-building cost. But it's worth it. Oh, my gosh, it's so worth it.

5) I've decided to not get a tattoo after all. Perhaps you remember reading this post from last year where I explained why I was seriously considering getting a Psalm-91-inspired tattoo. The lion and the cobra in verse 13 would have symbolized depression and lust -- two things that I have or will have battled and won (depression beaten, lust still fighting). It would have been an awesome 40th birthday present to myself.

But now I have an awesome job (truly the classiest gig I've ever had) that has a dress code that might not mesh well with that harsh of a tatt. Also, frankly, I'm quite nerdy and potentially allergic to almost anything, and I wouldn't want to take a chance of having some kind of bad reaction to getting my first tattoo. (Maybe I've been watching too many episodes of The People's Court?)

And I was thinking about the tattoo idea recently and talking to God about it, and I was like, "But the lion and the cobra would symbolize me beating those two things." And God was like, "Why stop at two?"

I know, right?

So, no tattoo. I think I look scary enough without one. And I would eventually need to cover myself in ink to tell everybody about everything that God has done with me.

You hear that, 2016? You have endless possibilities, because you're in the infinitely capable hands of my Father who loves me, has a plan for me, and is guiding me every step of the way. I'm ready. Bring it!