Ideals and Idols

Dolly from Soul Stops reminds me with a quote from Julia Cameron, “Be willing to paint or write badly while your ego yelps resistance. Your bad writing may be the syntactical breakdown necessary for a shift in your style…Art needs time to incubate, to sprawl a little, to be ungainly and misshapen and finally emerge as itself.”

Lately, my writing feels really bad to me, and thus, I haven’t felt like sharing it. Many drafts sit in waiting because of it, but today, I’ll be brave and share anyway, even while my ego yelps resistance.

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When I take personality tests, I have what they say is an idealist’s personality. Maybe this  means I am really hard to get along with, but I hope not. I think it means that I strive toward an ideal, and that sometimes it is hard to satisfy me, because in what world do you find the ideal? I always measure myself less than because I cannot meet my own ideal. I don’t hold everyone to that same standard. I can give others grace better than I give it to myself.

In my mind’s eye the ideal Christian probably lives in the mission field or if they are forced to live in America, they live in the inner city. They have children (because of course they are being fruitful and multiplying) and are hospitable to their neighbors. They give much of their money back to church or missions, and they are starting new churches or discipling those in their neighborhood or doing something somehow for Jesus. Over the years, the ideal means your husband must be in ministry or you somehow don’t count in ministry either.

Before you run away because you don’t fit the ideal, know that I  fit only the part where I have children. I’ve tried numerous times to get the Lord to allow me to lead a life like my ideal, but He has yet to do so, despite my passionate pleas. Maybe God’s called me to stay in Jerusalem, metaphorically speaking. I find myself still curious about God’s call to me, but I cannot help but wonder whether I think God would love me more if I was a missionary or if I was living in the inner city. I wonder if this is the real reason I want to live this lifestyle – to be more favored in my mind’s eye by God.

Do I think God would be more satisfied in me if I was living more sacrificially? I guess my answer is yes, and yet, doesn’t that fly in the face of grace? Doesn’t grace say He loves me just because He loves me? that He loves me all the way right this very moment even though He’s still working on me?

Back in March or April, I visited a friend’s neighbor’s home because my friend’s neighbor was readying her house to sell, and my friend thought perhaps our family would like to buy this house. My home is not currently for sell – we have three children who like LIVE in our home, and their marks and fingerprints and words are on just about every wall. It is not ready to sell, so we said something to the effect of, “We love your home, but ours is not ready.” In our minds we thought, “This must not be the plan for us.” After that, I put it out of my mind.

But three weeks ago, the lady called me back. She said she keeps praying about her house and hearing our name when she prays. I forgot to tell you that I fell in love with this lady at our first meeting – like I would love to be her neighbor. She is so sweet and kind. I think maybe the feeling is mutual. I have these little God nudges when the Spirit inside of me meets someone else with the Spirit inside of them, and it feels like kismet, and being with this lady was so calming. Because she called out of the blue, we paused to think about the house, and my heart even started dreaming a little. Then I watched a video about “What fits you?” and I thought,  “Maybe, God wants us to have a bigger house because this one no longer fits us, but I don’t know.” I’m an idealist, therefore, I must wrestle with every little thought.

We visited the house again. This time, I took my husband and kids, and we loved it.

Insert context. This has been a year of wrestling. Change looms large and now, hopefully, I am closing in on surrender, but the year has not been easy. This has nothing to do with the house other than a minutia of context. It’s been, for me, a hard year. I’ve learned that approval and pleasing others is still one of my default gods, and boy, have God and I been wrestling it out of my hands. It’s hard to wrestle your own gods out of your own hands. There have been tears and fits and ugly brokenness coming fresh to the surface. That’s why you’ll find me quiet on most social media accounts this summer. I just want Jesus right now, and the sweetness of grace and freedom that only He gives. I know the world is loud, and I join in giving my opinions about all. the. things. too, but now’s a time to sit quietly with Him, to let go of my ideals and idols.

Back to the house.

I feel excited at the possibility of moving to this house, but I feel fear. I am afraid that it is status quo, that it is too comfortable and easy, and my kids struggle with entitlement as it is. I think I’ve come to expect blessings as sacrifices, not as all out gifts. This new house is in happy suburbia-land.  I think the godly life is sacrificial and uncomfortable and hard, but blessed and beautiful. I worry that this move will not be sacrificial enough, so how could it be the godly choice?

We live in suburbia now, in a cul-de-sac. Of the twelve families that live in the area we call ours, there are only two that go to church. Of us two, we are Protestant and the other one is Catholic, and I’m not sure if they go regularly. Of the eleven years we’ve lived here, I have no idea if we’ve affected any change for Jesus, but I’ve relished the fact that for the South, our twelve house zone is sorta diverse, and we sometimes every now and a blue moon attempt to be missional. Somehow, though I am doubtful we’ve been the brightest lights for Jesus, it fulfills a tiny piece of me that longs to be on an adventure in another land. I find God wrenching idols out of my grasped hand all the time now. Idols I thought I’d already given up. You see, you don’t know what you are really holding onto unto God calls you to movement – until change looms on the horizon.

I’d be lying though, if I pretended that I am not a little bit of a fat cat in this nice small house. I don’t have to be stretched here. Expenses are low here. I’ve caught myself being very lazy is so many ways here. Maybe a move would be more sacrificial than it appears. I’m not sure. Maybe God just wants me to follow Him, even if it seems contradictory to the life I think is a godly life. Maybe that’s how I learn to be godly.

I am struggling because I want to live a life that is not wasted, yet most of the time, I worry that I am wasting my life.

One time one of my past Sunday school teachers said one of his goals in life was to join a country club. I thought it was the worst thing I’d ever heard. The country club life is not for me. It sounds like an easy way to live high on the hog for Jesus, and yet, God does want people to join country clubs and glorify His name there. I have to admit this is a little hard for me to fathom – to make Him greater than the tennis and the swimming and hobnobbing that goes on at a country club feels contrary to godliness. He is redefining godliness for me – even if I stay in this house and don’t move to the new one.

The conundrum is – is Jesus calling me to the house? or am I trying to justify something nice for my own selfish gain? The way up is the way down. I need just to listen for His voice and follow it.

There is no one size fits all Christianity like my idealist mind likes to imagine. Jesus is the Way, and yet the journey looks different for each of us as we listen to his voice. Jesus smashes all my ideals and idols. Thank goodness for His sweet grace.

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P.S. I am not on facebook right now. This will automatically share there, but if anyone graces me with a comment there, I will not see it for a while.