our blog
Feb
Time
A few months ago, I bought 120 white plastic hangers.
It all started with a visit to a friend’s house. This friend’s house was really clean. Pristine. The kind of pristine that makes you feel like you are walking into a Pottery Barn catalog. The kind of pristine where even the washer and dryer are, well, pristine. There was no dust, no lint, no streaks of detergent, no lone, mysterious sock cluttering up her appliances. And then I got a peek at one of her closets–such wondrous organization!- and I couldn’t help but notice that all her hangers matched.
Yes, I noticed that.
And I decided that I too wanted matching hangers. Silly, I know. But when I happened upon a hanger sale a few weeks later, I thought, “What luck!” and loaded up my cart. The following Sunday at church, when I casually mentioned to one of my friends about My-Matching-Hangers-Idea, she looked at me, more than slightly puzzled by my zeal, and said, smiling, teasingly- “Donna, I think you need to go back to work.”
See, over a year ago I became a mom. A stay-at-home mom. After working for nine years, and watching several friends blaze this trail before me, I kinda had an idea what this would look like. Lunches at Chick-Fil-A, playdates at the park, mornings spent shopping at Target. And time. I would have all this glorious time.
Time to be sure there was always a fresh pitcher of my husband’s beloved sweet tea in the fridge. Time to clean the baseboards, straighten the garage, and vacuum my car. Time to read the Bible more. Time to pour into my relationships.
Time.
Eighteen months later…my husband makes his own sweet tea, my baseboards have never been dirtier, my garage looks like something from Hoarders, and my car is littered with cheerio crumbs and dried out hand-wipes. And I don’t read the Bible any more than I use to. Maybe even less. And my friendships.. they are no deeper, no more authentic than they were, well, eighteen months ago.
And all those hangers? It has been six months and they are hanging in my closet all right. They are just clothes-less. All 120 of them still nicely wrapped in sets of ten inside their cardboard sleeves.
Why? I guess I could blame all this inertia on the busyness of life, on the demands of parenting a toddler. But to be honest, this inertia of mine is because I haven’t made the effort. It is that simple. That awfully simple.
This year, God is asking me to make the effort. So. That’s my one word. Effort.
When I looked up effort in the dictionary, I came across this meaning: a determined attempt. This year, that is what I am doing. I’m not looking for perfection, I am just determined to attempt.
Don’t get me wrong. God is not asking me to try harder, as if by sheer will I can become who He designed me to be. But with my one word, God is calling me to examine my character. I found that my natural inclination is towards procrastination and laziness. I like the easy way. I watch too much daytime TV. It is a crying shame that I know that Matt Lauer wasn’t at work on Friday.
So, I am in the process of rearranging my days, so I can make the effort. It might mean getting up earlier, turning off Kathie Lee and Hoda, it might mean calling that friend and scheduling a coffee date even though it might not be convenient. In short, I am determined to attempt that whichever God has put on my heart, whether it is as practical and mundane as keeping house or as sacred as pouring over His word.
With that being said, I am now gonna close the laptop, and get to work. I have some hangers to see to.
Jan
Finding The “Me” God Created Me To Be
I have an image in my head of Jesus standing in front of a pile of filthy mud-caked mirrors. The mud is so thick and crusted it encases the entire pile. He stands there as though waiting patiently, and barely, a glint escapes from the pile. Of course he has seen it, but still he seems to wait. Again there is a glint, and another, and another. This seems to be what the Master was waiting for because he deliberately reaches down and picks up the filthy mirror that reflected the brilliant flashes.
As he grasps it, no sludge sticks to his fingers and he doesn’t try to avoid the particularly grimey spots. He peers into the dark murky glass with an expression of familiarity and commences to sloughing off the mud. In some places His brilliance dances in the newly clean glass and in other places the mud sticks fast and even seems to creep back into place. But he continues diligently and deliberately until the mirror finally reflects his countenance. Then he gingerly hangs it up at the right angle so that His light is reflected from that mirror onto the mud entombed mirrors on the floor. He stands back expectantly. There, from the bottom of the pile, a glint.
This is My One Word to me. It is a process by which we position ourselves to be what God created us to be: bearers of his image. At inception, what drives us to commit to a certain word should be a heart for God’s purposes and not our own. It is easy to make lists of all the things that we dislike about ourselves, all the things that keep us from making the cut, all the things that separate us from the idealized version of self. But what makes us change, the thing that shows the Lord we are ready to be freed from our mess, is that glint of Him in us. When we want His brilliance to overtake us is when the work can start to be done.
When I committed to My One Word fully for the first time two years ago I walked a fine line between serving myself and submitting to God’s formation of my soul. God had brought me through some very serious circumstances in my life. Through those trials, I thought that I was fully depending on the Lord. But in actuality, I only let myself “surrender“ enough to include God in my anxiety/fear idolatry. I prayed out of fear. I had quiet time in anxious overdrive.
I basically asked God to bless my worry. I hated this about myself. I knew it drove me from the God that loved me and that was not fickle about that love. So, in January of 2009 my word was “be.” I wanted to just “be” the creation God planned me to be, to rest in Him and not feel the weight and blight of the world on my shoulders. I tried so much in my own power the first two months to just “be.” Self-serving had made me miss the point of the formation my heart needed.
In March of that year, the day before my birthday, my father had a stroke. He lived in a vegetative state until the fourth of July, when he passed. On that day in March I began to learn what it meant to “be” and none of it was about my own strength to do anything. It was about the work God was doing in me, for His glory. I kept the word in 2010 too. I felt God through the storm pulling me toward him, and with that new year he taught me how to “be” in the wake.
This year, God spoke the word “courage” directly to my heart. “Courage” feels like another year of “be” in a sense, just more specific in the action God (not me) wants me to take. I pray fervently that I allow the Master to clean away all the dirt and mud that feels safe. I want to reflect his brilliant image. I want to be placed so that His image can be seen by others.
J’vanete is married and the mother of two. She enjoys being with family, laughing, dancing, good music, and good food. She loves learning and using what she has learned to help the people around her. Volunteering in different capacities within the community is one way she demonstrates her committment to intentionally caring for others and being the change she wants to see in the world.
Jan
MOW Is Not For Wimps
I haven’t picked my word yet.
It’s really, really hard to chose just one area of your life to work on for the entire year. And then you get into the challenge of coming up with a word that has multiple meanings so that you can creatively shove a lifetime worth of change into one year. This is another helpful exercise to prolong the commitment to one word. Believe me, I have excuse’d and stalled so much my head spins.
So here I sit, after procrastinating the writing of this post until I chose a word. I’m writing now, not because I have a word. But because I am learning so much more in the process of picking a word than I expected.
I’m realizing that I have a lot to work on, hence the dilemma in picking my one word.
As a relatively new believer, I have a lot to learn. You won’t find my writings peppered with scripture because, to be honest, I am not well versed enough to know my… well, verses. So, there’s a word possibility. “Educate.” Or something a little more inventive.
I also want to make a change this year in the way I raise my two small children. I want them to know the God that I didn’t know until I was in my late 20s. Sure, we pray together and we incorporate Biblical teachings into several life moments each day. But I want to do more. I want to be a better teacher all day, every day. Not just when I notice the swift kick in the rear from the Holy Spirit. So, there’s a thought. “Consistency.” Or something a little more jazzy.
Another area that I want to work on this year is being a better steward of His money. After a crazy economy turned our household income inside out and upside down last year, we were forced to make big changes. We are hanging on by a thread but we are hanging on. This year, I want to climb that thread and conquer our new financial situation. I want to make the resources that He blesses us with work for us. Wisely. Consistently. Calmly. Knowing that all will be okay as long as we continue to put our faith in the Lord and act as good stewards of His provision. So, “steward.” Maybe?
I could go on and on with the words that pop in my mind, stay a while, only to leave because I can’t come up with a way to creatively combine them into one. Because I can’t come up with a word that sounds compelling or that will garner the “oooh, that’s a great word” from friends. Or because I get stuck in the “well, I probably need to focus on something bigger than just that.” And the word selection circle goes round and round and round.
Another big challenge is the thought that, whatever word I choose to work on for the year, God will move on. That scares me. If I choose “steward,” is He going to give me a chance to learn better stewardship by challenging us financially even more than we are already challenged? If I chose “educate” or “consistency”, am I going to be placed in a position in which I am uncomfortable in order to learn that lesson?
The answer to my questions, I know. Or I’m pretty sure I do. Yes. Yes. Yes, silly, yes. Isn’t that the purpose of the My One Word project? Choosing a word that challenges us to grow? To create a vision for our future so that we can improve our character?
Eek. Change? Improve? That sounds hard.
But having pondered this word choice day and night, even sometimes saying “I don’t need to pick a word… I’ll just work on everything this year,” I have come to a conclusion. I need a word. I need a word to help me focus. To take this overwhelming feeling of a needed all-over change one step at a time. One year, one word, at a time. I am going to commit to this challenge. I am going to commit to change.
Now. I just need a word. I have till February 1, right?
Boy, this project is not for wimps.
Hilary Brady is a freelance writer, marketing consultant and copywriter that has called PC3 home since it saved her spiritual life in 2008. More information about Hilary’s journey can be found at peanutandpoppy.wordpress.com and samples of her professional work can be seen at hbrady.com.