Quitters never win

There are days when you want to quit. You look at what you are doing with you life and realize how minuscule, inefficient, and meaningless it seems compared to the grand scheme of things.

What you want to quit varies according to the day.  Often it is a job.  If I remember correctly, working generally consists of 80% insults,  1% positive feedback, and 19% insults you just haven't managed to overhear yet.

I remember as a student, the idea of quitting seemed blissful at times. As a student you spend a majority of your time scrambling to learn something, only to realize next semester that you are scrambling so hard to learn this new subject that you can't remember a thing you learned last semester.

"Being nice" is another occupation that tempts quitting to the extreme.  Sure, sometimes, doing the right thing can be gratifying, but often, it means holding the restaurant door for the entire lunch rush because it seems nobody else's mother trained them to take the door as they walk through.

I am ashamed to admit that often "Serving others" is also high on my quitting list, at times.  I want to make a positive change, and when I am met with an overwhelming service need, or change is overly resistant, I am quick to throw my hands in the air and claim that my efforts are pointless, that no one would even notice if I did quit, that nobody could truly succeed in this particular effort.  It's just a drop of fresh water in this world's ocean; the osmosis takes over, and the ocean engulfs the raindrop as though it never happened.

We want to quit when we are dissatisfied with the results of our efforts.  I have realized that I am driven heavily by results, and while this can be a good thing, it is also a foothold for the devil, if I am not careful.  I get caught up in the results, rather than the process, in the gratification, rather than the integrity.  When I lose my focus like this, I become vulnerable to the voice that says, "Don't bother. Walk away. You're not up to the task.  Nobody cares what you do anyway. They're all laughing at you.  Other people are taking the easy way out and getting rewarded for it."

Why bother? Going to school is just going to make you a more educated unemployed person with extra debt. It's useless: trying to make friends in a time of life where it seems most people have set their life up just the way they want it, leaving few vacancies.  Why buy a homeless person lunch when that one meal is not going to heal an addiction, clean a record, restore hope, provide a job, education, and apartment?...it will just be one meal. Why tithe when 10% of little is even smaller?  Why study, you just can't understand it.  Don't waste the effort, you cannot calm someone else's storm, you cannot soothe the turmoil of someone else's soul.

What I forget in the midst of this acidic discouragement is that it is not important whether I see the results of my actions. It is not necessary for me to know the justification of obedience. What is important is that I mind my actions and my attitude and make sure that they are righteous. It is important that I find my righteousness in Christ, and that in Christ I find the desire and strength to be obedient, to love without demanding gratitude, to give without the attitude of ownership, to live in such a way that my God is glorified through me, rather than besmirched by me.

Sure, there are some situations that really do need quitting, but most situations just need courage and gumption. I am realizing that in those dark moments of whatever topic that is haunting me, it is when I want to quit the most that I need to rebel against those urges. I need to work harder, fight smarter, focus better, and in a few days, weeks, months, when it does not feel so desperate,  I need to re-evaluate the situation. Otherwise, I am saying, "Here, Satan, I tied my heart up on this string, and even put a loophole for your finger, enjoy! Jerk it as you please. There's probably an awesome mud hole filled with broken glass nearby to drag it through." And that just doesn't seem smart... or pleasant.

What is this blog, a cry for help? you ask.  No. It is just me reading a lot of books, living a lot of life, and thinking a lot of thought.  It is me calling out all those sometimes-wanna-be quitters--including myself-- in situations large and small, and hopefully encouraging us to recenter our focus, and remember what truly matters in the long run.


To him who is able to keep you from stumbling and to present you before his glorious presence without fault and with great joy—  to the only God our Savior be glory, majesty, power and authority, through Jesus Christ our Lord, before all ages, now and forevermore! Amen.    Jude 24-25

Thanks for letting me meander.

Because mirrors should be nicer...

A few days ago, I posted about how, even though I try to do better, sometimes the mirror can best my self confidence.  As the band, SuperChic[k], put it, "Sometimes I have good days and it's good to be me. Sometimes I get the best of insecurity, and it's quite alright to be the one and only, but today I feel like the one and lonely."  I believe we all can understand that feeling from time to time.

I have been thinking about how many  battles I have had with the mirror, the goriest of which were done during my preteen and teenage years.  People often do not know about children's battles with the mirror, because the children fear that if they mention that something about themselves haunts them, someone might agree that it's true: they really are ugly, awkward, stupid, worthless.  We would all rather fear that it might be true than take the risk of asking, and having someone confirm our fears.

As many of you know, I sponsor some kids through Compassion International.  These kids are really important to me, and it may sound strange, being as I have never met them, but I love them.  When I first signed up to be a sponsor, I did not realize the opportunity I had been given, but it only took a short time for Liline to show me how much she looked up to me, just for choosing her.  I really don't deserve to be this considered  this cool, but for some reason, she places great import in everything I say.  Because of this, I try to see areas where I can encourage my kids where the people in their daily lives may not be able to.

With my sponsored kids, I can't be there to pick them up, and brush the dust off of their knees, or put the bandaids on broken hearts.  I don't know what is being said to them daily.  I can't know when they are having good days or dark days, but I try to make sure that when they are having their dark days, they have a full stock of letters and reminders to scare off those beasts that lurk in their darkness.

So, one day, as I was perusing that dangerous place known as Michaels craft store, I came across these paper mirrors for a dollar a piece.

A light bulb came on, and I bought three, and a 20 pack of markers.

I don't know about the rest of you, but I find that when I am most discouraged or disgusted with myself, I will at least once glance in my mirror, as if to see if it really is as bad as I feel. The problem with this is that the mirror often has a sharp tongue, and rarely disagrees with the dark feelings.  We use a mirror every day, before we leave the house.  I am going to take advantage of this fact.

Because, it's about time mirrors started showing people some love.  Alok Nath, being in India, writes in a script that I can't even figure out which side is up, so I will have to tell him that word means "Handsome" and that is why I chose to cover the rest of it in hearts, so instead of reading it, he might be able to get the gist of love. (There is a protective plastic to protect the mirror. For a paper mirror, it has quite a good reflection under that plastic)

This one goes to Abigail, who lives in Ghana and speaks some English.  This one is not as artistic, but I wanted her to look at this mirror and think nothing but good about herself!  Especially "Loved"   It is my theory that most of our insecurities, and self abusive choices we make stem from our fear that we are not lovable.  In my mind, it is most important that we let the people that we love know it...often!

This last one is for Liline, whose given name is Magarette. She will be 13 this summer, so I thought she might like something a little more elegant than playful. She speaks Creole and is learning French in school, so I looked up some French for her. "God loves you"  "I love you" "Beautiful" "Intelligent"  and "Precious"  are what I chose for her.

I am really pleased with how these little projects turned out, plus I enjoyed the opportunity to color again!  It delights me to think that when they look into these and see themselves, they will also see things like "Beautiful"  "Smart"  and "Loved" and hopefully they will associate those things with themselves more often. I hope that they will be cheerful little candles for my "kids" on their dark days.

Because, quite frankly, it is about time for mirrors to learn their manners, and for us to stand up to them.  It is also time for those of us who are older, and have already seen the reflective battlefield too often to step in, help our younger loved ones to develop positive habits when looking at themselves, and show them how to put that reflector in its place.  It starts by us filling their reservoirs up with love, so that when they are feeling low and they turn to look at their reservoir, they see a lake and not a puddle.

An aptly spoken word...

I work really hard to make sure I am not repeating negative things to myself when I look in the mirror. This is a habit I have been working on for many years.  There was a point in my life that God made it clear to me that he didn't appreciate me insulting his creations, and that I am one of his creations.  Sometimes, however, it is a hard habit to enforce.  Sometimes, I get up in the morning and I have only negative and whiny things to mutter at the mirror. Sometimes, I look in the mirror and see that awkward teenager again, with ears that stick out, an overbite, freckles, an overly long neck, and a dash of orange hair to call attention to it all. On those days, I content myself with either silence, rehearsed words, or sometimes a song that was on a cassette we listened to often throughout childhood, "God made me like I am, a special God design. Everything God made is good, I'm really very fine..."

Yesterday was one of those mornings.  I especially struggle with thinking nice thoughts about myself on days where I'm suffering from an onslaught of acne.  Ten years ago, I thought this battle would be over, and it is really quite disheartening at times to realized it's almost as bad as it was then.  To add to this, i wasn't feeling well. This morning, I contented myself with silence(a common occurrence the earlier in the morning it is), put on mascara and sunscreen, got ready for church, and left.  I am new at church, so I still cringe a little when the leader says, "Go ahead and stand and greet those around you."  Usually, I march in and find an empty spot, and ask if they mind my sitting there, because I hate to sit alone. Feeling lurkish, I had chosen a seat on an empty aisle, in the last row of the section, on the far side of the church. So, upon the order to greet people, I did the necessary standing up, intending to wait a few seconds and sit down to simmer in the funk again.  It didn't work.

One of the older women who first welcomed me into the church saw me, and crossed the room to give me a hug. That felt good.  Then, the woman who really was the first person to welcome me, hurried over shortly afterwards to give me a hug.  That felt good too. I started thinking maybe, in spite of my bad attitude, I might just surface for some of this cheerful air.  Then, she placed her hand on my face, and leaned in as if to tell me a secret, and whispered, "You're so pretty!" She smiled and looked me directly in the eyes, and then it was time to sit down.

It was a good thing it was time to sit down, because the compliment caught me so off guard, a slight breeze might have knocked me over.  Were I the crying sort, I might have done so.  Instead, I just marveled.  All of a sudden, I felt pretty again.  It was as if she had reached into the mud pit, and pulled me out by my scruff, sprayed me down, and left me in the warm summer sun to drip dry. It felt blissfully good.  And realizing the fact that God loved me enough to put that on her agenda, felt equally good.

Compliments are strange things in our culture.  Usually, we brush them off, because we are pretty sure it was just the polite thing to say, or something a person had to say to fulfill their duty as friend, mother, or some other relative.  When good manners do not call for a compliment and we truly feel that it is genuine, it is amazing the impact a compliment can make.  It can make a day.  Often we think good things about each other, but don't say them, because it would feel awkward.  The compliment that pulled me out of my pit was a good wholesome reminder that I should also be on the look out for opportunities to encourage others.  After all, I'll never know just how much a person might need it at that moment.

"A word aptly spoken is like apples of gold in settings of silver."  Proverbs 25:11

I don't know if this situation is what Solomon meant this verse for, but I feel like maybe I needed an apple yesterday, and someone was kind enough to provide it.