Sunday, December 8, 2013

I've never been so proud to toss my cookies

I'm sitting here about to toss my cookies. I'm nervous because later tonight I'm supposed to have a conversation, and I'm not sure how it's going to turn out. It's a pretty unusual feeling for me...I don't really get nervous that often. But I'm pretty sure God is cheering on my nausea right now.

"Excuse me?" you say...well, let me back up.


TENNIS VS. SWEAT

Growing up, my dad taught me to play tennis. But I was not very good. At the time, I thought I was a horrible athlete. But looking back, I think it's more about the fact that I hated to sweat and avoided it at all costs. I'd exert as little energy as possible...meaning if the ball didn't come to me, I didn't go to the ball. As you can imagine, winning at tennis requires you to allow the possibility of sweating. So if I wanted to win, I needed to sweat. Or I wanted to stay dry, that meant I needed to give up on winning. I could do one or the other, but not both. One goal had to be forfeited...and I chose to forfeit winning.

(Clearly, somewhere along the line I decided sweating is not the end of the world and lifted the perspiration ban, as my two favorite activities are now salsa dancing and sand volleyball...after both of which it's in your best interest to stay out of the smelling vicinity!)



But I've realized recently that there are a lot of other worthwhile goals I forfeit because I'm trying to avoid some displeasurable side effect. 

  • I hold back in friendships and relationships because I hate the thought of rejection.
  • I avoid unknown or uncertain situations because I hate the thought of failure.
  • I am reluctant to obey God because I hate the thought of people thinking I'm stupid or crazy.

It's not that I don't WANT to live and love freely...it's just that, similar to tennis and sweating, one of the goals has to be forfeited, and when it comes down to it, I choose to forfeit the possibility of a great life in favor of a pain-free one.


MAKING A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL...

I can tell you exactly when I made this forfeit, too. I remember standing in my living room 7 years ago as my life was falling apart and turning to my very best friend for support. But instead of giving me the support I expected, she told me my life was a failure...that she didn't think I knew God...that I was no longer worthy of respect...that I wasn't even worthy of other people's friendship. Her words were so painful that I could literally feel them physically. It felt like I'd been hit in the gut...by a semi-truck traveling 100mph. I mean, this was a friend to whom I would have entrusted my very life. We had been inseparable for 10 years. She knew EVERYTHING about me...and knowing that, she labeled me a failure who was unworthy of her time or interest. The pain I felt at those words was greater than any I'd felt before or since.

And I remember standing there that day after she left, vowing, "This is more than I can take. I will NEVER allow myself to feel this way again."

And I meant it. From that time on, I never allowed myself to get too invested in another person. I analyzed all situations and chose not to engage if there was any unknown variable. I refused to take any opportunity if there was the slightest risk of failure. I steered clear of doing anything that might make me look like a bad Christian.

And in so doing, I effectively prevented myself from feeling that unendurable pain ever again. 

(Of course, I also prevented myself from feeling any great love, excitement, freedom or joy since I avoided all situations that might bring those emotions...but I didn't even care, as long as I didn't have to go through that kind of indescribable pain again.)


A CALL TO SWEAT

Recently, though, I've felt that God is calling me to "sweat." It seems like he's telling me that he created me with the potential to be a player of greatness, but I'm forfeiting that potential in order to "stay dry." He's gently challenging me to give up my inferior goals...because you can't win at tennis if you refuse to sweat. These are the some of the things I think he's been saying to me:


  • You can't love & be loved if you refuse to risk the hurt of rejection.
  • You can't do great things if you refuse to risk failure.
  • You can't have an adventure if you refuse to live in the fear of uncertainty.
  • You can't follow me if you refuse to be labeled delusional.

And man, oh, man...those statements scare me to DEATH. After all, I really don't know if I could survive another experience like I had in my living room that day 7 years ago.

But there's also something about those statements that breathes life into me...life that got sucked out 7 years ago when I decided to play it safe.

So I've been trying it. Since last November when I asked God for an adventure, I've been allowing myself to "sweat." I've been opening myself to the possibility of rejection. I've been taking risks. I've been venturing into unknown territory. I've been doing things even when people roll their eyes behind my back. And it's been terrifying. (Though at the same time, exhilarating).

Tonight's conversation is an example of one of those times. In a couple of hours, my grand adventure might end in complete and utter failure. I might get rejected. Even if I'm not rejected, I might discover that I was totally off base in thinking this is what God wants me to do. Or even if I am following God, I might be entering rocky, dangerous territory. Or people might think I'm off my rocker. (In fact, it seems likely that any or ALL of these bad outcomes might come to fruition.)


SUCCESS = SWEAT

But the more I think about it, the more I conclude that when God called me on this adventure, the point of it was not necessarily for me to succeed in my endeavors...the point was just to show me that "sweating" isn't so bad after all. The point was to show me that rejection, failure, uncertainty, and delusionality are not the end of the world. The point was to show me that it's better to be out there sweating with him than to stay dry in my little prison cell.

It's like P!nk says: 
"Just because it burns doesn't mean you're gonna die;
You've gotta get up and try, try, try."



(I figure when God and P!nk agree, we MUST be on to something.)

So I'm trying. (And tossing my cookies.) 

But no matter how it turns out, I'm hanging onto the fact that for me, success is just in the trying; not in the results. Success is in going for the ball without getting stuck in the paralysis of calculating the cost. Success is just in trusting God enough to risk...even if I get punched in the gut so hard that I can't even eat my giant medicinal pancakes. Even if everything falls to pieces tonight, I can still label this adventure a success, just because I sprinted for the ball when God told me to.

After all, Romans 8:15-16 says this:

"This resurrection life you received from God is not a timid, grave-tending life. It’s adventurously expectant, greeting God with a childlike “What’s next, Papa?” God’s Spirit touches our spirits and confirms who we really are. We know who he is, and we know who we are: Father and children."

Deep in my soul, beyond the layers of scar tissue, I know that's what I truly want...to live that resurrection life; to set out on an epic adventure with my Papa...knowing that no matter how it turns out, I'm still his child, and therefore, nothing can really touch me.

And choosing that goal means allowing myself to sweat, get nervous, and toss my cookies. But as much of a mess as I am right now, I really don't know if my Father could ever be prouder than he is at this moment...as I go all out chasing the ball, no matter how sweaty I get...even if I swing and miss!

So here goes nothing...


No comments:

Post a Comment