The Curtain Incident II

October 10, 2012 ~ Emily ~ Leave a comment

God has a sense of humor, and I’m beginning to think it’s the sort that only seems funny after the fact.

If you’re not up on the curtain shenanigans of Monday, refer to The Curtain Incident to get caught up, because this is a continuation of the saga.

The following events happened yesterday. It took me awhile to recover, hence the one day delay on this post.

The original curtain rod came from Walmart and was desperately flimsy from the start. Tim and I thought an upgrade would solve the problem, so we purchased a thicker, longer curtain rod from Bed, Bath, and Beyond.

Holes from the previous hardware were already made, making the installation process quicker than before. I had the new rod supports secured to the wall in about 15 minutes. The curtain was strung on the rod and, with Tim’s help, the new ensemble was hung with care. The new rod was the perfect length and the whole thing looked great. We just needed to tuck the curtains behind the couch.

In the process of getting down from my perch atop the couch, my foot made contact with the excess curtain yet again. I stared in disbelief at the drooping curtain and bent rod, for a split second thinking I must be in a dream. Reality was quick to follow and after some, um, words, I was silenced by anger.

I paced in the living room for a minute before retreating down the hall to sit in the most hidden corner of our bedroom. The frustration was welling up so quickly, I couldn’t keep the flow of tears from matching its pace. I was stunned and angry that an exact replica of the curtain incident, a meer 24 hours earlier, had just occurred.

As I sat wedged between the wall and my nightstand, I began to cry even harder. I felt defeated. God had taught me a lesson on Monday, and though I wasn’t expecting to be tested on the material so soon, I didn’t pass. I failed the test. I reacted to the same situation in the same manner – with anger and frustration.

I realized as I lay curled on my bed (I had changed sobbing locations) that I was angrier at myself than the situation. The perfectionist in me was appalled at how quickly I failed. I had supposedly learned a lesson – why was I reacting the same? And shouldn’t the appropriate reaction have been a no-brainer? I mean, it was the EXACT same situation as before…

After some time had passed, with much hugging from Tim and reassuring that I had at least reacted better to him this round than the previous day, I had a glimpse of God’s perspective. He was laughing – not spitefully, but with the kind, crinkled eyes of an amused father. I was frustrated because I missed the target, but God knew that I was aiming at the wrong bullseye.

With those God goggles on, I realized the real lesson God was teaching me through curtains was less about anger and more about accepting His forgiveness and grace.

Dear Eustace {31 Days of Letters}

October 9, 2012 ~ Emily ~ 8 Comments

Dear Eustace,

After reading about you a few years ago, your story has never left my heart and mind. I have Eustace moments frequently and wanted you to know that you aren’t alone – you are not the only reformed dragon around.

I’d like to think I started out more likable than your pre-Narnia self, but I am fully capable of acting like a greedy, teetotaling, know-it-all too. You must agree, it’s pretty amazing how quickly dragon qualities appear. Just one night “sleeping on a dragon’s hoard with greedy, dragonish thoughts in your heart and you’d become a dragon yourself.”

My bad attitudes and pride are monstrous and shocking, often appearing overnight after laying dormant for a spell. The dragon-that-had-been-Emily rises her dark, lumpy self and destroys all in her path with fire.

I know what its like to not recognize yourself. You wake up one morning and wonder who those claws belong to and why there’s steam coming from your nose. The moment of truth is agonizing. Your reflection isn’t pretty and the realization of what you’ve become is disheartening. Will you be like this forever?

And that gold bracelet of yours – I know what its like to be trapped by such finery. I have gold bracelets up the wazoo, things that I value because the world values them or idols I have created. I wear them greedily unaware that they are slowly cutting off feeling. My finery becomes a tourniquet stemming the flow of the Spirit. As I become more distracted by the gold bracelets and what they are doing to my arm, I become less sensitive to that still small voice calling me to freedom.

I know what it’s like to have Reepicheeps in your life who come beside you at your worst. When you realize the errors of your dragon ways and are in the depths of despair, they comfort you, they stand up for you, they point you towards hope.

Most poignantly, I know what it’s like to have your scales ripped off. I know the desire to de-dragon yourself. I’ve tried to shed my own skin in hopes of maintaining control, but as you found out, it grows right back again. It takes the claws of a lion to dig below the surface. There comes a point where you welcome a lion’s claws, willing to endure pain in order to feel the dead weight of thick, dark, knobbly looking layers fall off.

Eustace, you may have began quite dragony, eating raw meat and all, but in the end you were more the knight. Thank you for reminding me that there is often pain in purification.

Sincerely,

Emily (fellow dragon)

The very first tear he made was so deep that I thought it had gone right into my heart. And when he began pulling the skin off, it hurt worse than anything I’ve ever felt. The only thing that made me able to bear it was just the pleasure of feeling the stuff peel off. You know – if you’ve ever picked the scab of a sore place. It hurts like billy-oh but it is such fun to see it coming away. {The Voyage of The Dawn Treader by C.S. Lewis}

You can find all my letters here.

For more information about the 31 Day Challenge, visit The Nester.

The Curtain Incident

October 8, 2012 ~ Emily ~ 2 Comments

My trip to Bed, Bath, and Beyond was already too long. I had agonized over what curtains to get. My cart and I had already circumnavigated the store once with a steel blue color before I decided that blue wasn’t neutral enough. Back to the curtain nook to swap colors, I finally checked out and made my way back home.

I measured and screwed and leveled the hardware for the extension rod, pleased that I hadn’t lost my handy-woman skills. In the midst of adjusting the rod, a quick snap left my curtains drooping on one side. I had managed to step on excess fabric, bending the cheap metal at a rakish angle.

Immediately, I am peeved. Not only was I the one to ruin our new wall hanging, I wasted part of my afternoon working on a project that I didn’t complete. Woe unto Tim, who was a witness to my huffing and puffing at the decorating turn of events. I would barely acknowledge his efforts to straighten the rod or purchase a sturdier (ie: clumsy foot proof) one.

Right before this decorating disaster occurred, I had been listening to last Sunday’s message from my church back home, per my mom’s recommendation. Her text read: “Bruce’s sermon was direct and excellent. Worth a listen if you have a chance.”

Well, I had purposely created a chance to listen while I was putting up curtains. Little did I know God was crafting a very real sermon illustration in the process. Direct and excellent, indeed…

Pastor Bruce’s sermon was on James 1:19-21.

My dear brothers, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, for man’s anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires. Therefore, get rid of all moral filth and the evil that is so prevalent and humbly accept the word planted in you, which can save you.

He had just finished describing the Greek word for anger when I turned it off because Tim came home. The curtain rod incident ensued as detailed above. When Tim went back to work, hurried on by my pouting and childish attitude, I rewound the sermon just a bit and pressed play, only to hear Pastor Bruce redefine anger again. In verse 19, James uses the Greek word ὀργήν, which has multiple layers of meaning. ὀργήν is an anger defined by inner frustration, deep resentment, and seething, smoldering feelings.

Inner frustration – Check. Deep resentment – Check. Smoldering and seething – Check.

I was so frustrated at myself for stepping on that darn curtain and wasting time on a project that didn’t get any closer to completion. Frustration turned into resentment of the situation and my lameness. In five minutes, I wasn’t able to contain my smoldering irritation.

This alone would have been bad enough, but I had a physical witness to my childish behavior. I wasn’t angry at Tim, but my feelings leeched out in my attitude, making me irritable and unavailable when he was only trying to be helpful. My inner frustration caused emotional distance to wedge between us and gave me a an outlook far from joyful.

“…for man’s anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires.”

I’m ashamed that it took curtains to show me what truth lies in that statement.

Update: Sadly, there’s a part two to this story…

Dear God {31 Days of Letters}

October 5, 2012 ~ Emily ~ 2 Comments

This is a plagiarized letter – a prayer, really. Set A Fire is written by Will Reagan. I heard this song two weeks ago at Unite and was immediately taken by the simplicity of the lyrics. I identify with the plea for more of God, the desire to be held tightly in God’s love. Everything in me detests feeling out of control, but I also want to surrender my soul in its entirety.

In this letter, I use Mr. Reagan’s words to say:

Less of me and more of you, God.

Dear God,

There’s no place I’d rather be.

There’s no place I’d rather be, then here in Your love.

Here in your love.

Set a fire down in my soul that I can’t contain, that I can’t control.

I want more of You God.

There’s no place I’d rather be.

There’s no place I’d rather be, then here in you love.

Here in your love.

Sincerely,

Emily

Lyrics by Will Reagan. Find out more about Reagan and United Pursuit here.

You can find all my letters here.

For more information about the 31 Day Challenge, visit The Nester.

Infinite Grasp

September 28, 2012 ~ Emily ~ 6 Comments

My youth pastor once told me about how his wife, on the drive to her grandfather’s funeral, slammed the backs of her hands on to her thighs, palms up in desperation to have God take control. She was letting go.

I have a hard time letting go of things. My grasp can be pretty tight. Its not that I just have a firm grip, I have a complicated grip on things. I dig my fingers in deep, weaving whatever I have my mits on up to my wrists, around and around, so really it would take a knife to cut me loose.

But, what I think is an unbreakable bond between me and the object is a mere piece of twine in God’s eyes. He’s calling me to let go, throw my palms up in surrender to His plans, His ideas, His love.

Contrary to what I think on a daily basis, my grasp does not equal control. Grasping is my finite attempt to reach an infinite God.

He is already right in front of me and won’t ever leave.