We are not who we think we are

I had a moment Sunday morning while brushing my teeth.  

"You know, God, it would be great to have some of my old creativity back…maybe even a little self-initiative, and talent."

Brush, brush, brush.

And then I sensed a reply, "Allie, you've been putting your confidence in the wrong things, namely You."

Ouch.  

You know, when you've been called out by the Almighty, there are very few things you can really do.  I did the most logical one…I wrote the entire "conversation" in eyeliner on my bathroom mirror.  A reminder.  A standing stone that indicates something happened in this place along the journey.

When I talk about God and "sensing" a response, let me be clear:  there are no burning bushes in my life, no answers written in fire blazing across a darkened sky (thanks James Baldwin), nor do any talking donkeys, squirrels, cats, dogs, sparrows, lizards, snakes, or chipmunks swing by the apartment with a "word."

And it's not my imagination, though I wrestle with this.  There is a peace, a settling of the waters when God seems to show up, even if what I sense is painful or scary (like "How about moving to North Georgia.")

My intellect (or what's left of it) wrestles with this, but I don't have to look far to see his goodness on display in ways that are COMPLETELY out of my area of influence.  Yea yea yea…sun, moon, seasons, stars all show something at work out of our control.  My kids…enough said (how did they grow into such confident, caring, responsible people with a mum who is 80%…look a chicken!)  Friends…wow.

Just one "for instance":  the sale of my home in six weeks before moving to Adventures – I had very little to do with that – and in such a stagnant economy.  There are a heap more examples, but I don't want to get off topic.

As much as I knew before – and so much more so now – I am learning that we are not all that and a bag of fritos.  We are not necessarily the masters and commanders of our own ships.  We can paddle or steam along and never see that ice berg or the raft of soon-to-be best friends floating nearby.  We cannot control every circumstance to absolutely ensure every outcome.  I've tried.  Yea.  That was great.

After the chit chat with God with a mouth foaming of toothpaste, I had another thought.

"Allie, you are not who you think you are – you are more – and sometimes less.  And I'm okay with that as long as you stay close and learn from me."   Immediately I saw all of who I wanted to believe I am: kind, witty, supergenius, unflappable (ha!), generous, brilliant, creative, contributor, adult, loving…servant leader.  And then I saw all that I am afraid that I am: petty, slouchy, whiney, undisciplined, self-serving, slovenly, mean, arrogant…grandiose.  

And somewhere in all of that, there was peace in the realization that the imperfection is real and okay.  I'm tucked into God's pocket – the one on his chest next to his pocket protector.  He is going to be God and is not going to toss me into the rubbish for being me.  In fact, he gave up a hell of a lot for the outside chance that I might just love him one day.  

So today I am a tiny grape in a cluster on a vine in the fields along the Rhine – unnoticed, hidden in the hills.  I submit myself to the owner of the field to be trimmed and used for his purposes – grape, frape (frozen grape), a raisin in the sun, wine, or tucked into a fruitcake that no one will eat, but will make the rounds for centuries.

I am not who I think I am…thank goodness.  

Photo by Kyle Wyatt, Topeka, Kansas, of his first grape harvest of the season.  Used with permission.