Spoken 2: Paradise

My three favorite places in the world are about 6,000 miles apart.  A hot tub some where a little east of Seattle.  A pool in Cap Haitian, Haiti.  A bike path in northern Italy.  One has a view of snow capped mountains and my new husband.  One has a view of clear water and a book in my hands and my girl friends who know me inside and out.  One has grapevines and Italian grandparents sitting on benches people watching.  One a honeymoon.  One a ladies' retreat with missionary co-workers.  One where I went when I was lonely.  All of them gentle, quiet, sweet.  Still.  And all of them had trees.

I used to think I was a water person.  Which I am.  But I also need growing things.  Or, maybe as I grow older, I need more growing things.

I have had a weird week.  It's had a lot of fun things.  Intense things.  Busy things.  But, I need that gentle, quiet, sweet time of stillness. And I think I might need growing things.

The word "paradise", means a park, forest, orchard.  A place where things thrive. And grow strong.  And I could be safe there.  Safe from my stress.  Safe from my desire to please everyone - which really is the desire for approval.  Safe from worrying or planning or pretending I'm God.

Ah.  That is really what I need a vacation from.  Me.  Me as God.  It's exhausting.  It's somewhat terrifying.  It's draining - on my energy, mind, and people I love.  It's also pretty lonely.

How can I stop this pattern of seeing myself as the one who is In Control of not just my world, but maybe the whole world?  Even when I come across verses like Proverbs 16:13, which basically says that God even controls what numbers you get when you throw the dice, I read past it, and am determined to get the numbers I want.

When will I ever learn?  When will I be at the end of my I've Got It rope?

I think this is really hard for us head-strong ladies who are fulfilled, independent, and capable.  Especially when you've have to do it yourself because there isn't a husband would take care of it.  Especially when you want to make sure that everyone knows you're OK with singleness (even though that ok feeling ebbs and flows).  Even when you are really hoping that what doesn't kill you will make you stronger.

And so, what forms in your heart is an idol of self sufficiency.  I have to do it alone because I have to.  And I have to be in control.  And I have to take all the responsibility.  And this is who I am.

That idol is so hard to break.  So very hard to break.  It's hard because it's functional.  It's practical.  It actually works.  Where does it take me?  To a successful job, a thriving ministry?  To everyone looking up at me?  To being a role model for other single women and living a life worth the envy of women who are married?  To exhaustion?  To bases left uncovered?  To a wall of self-sufficiency and selfishness that cannot be crossed by family and friends?  To a marriage of  non-submission and control battles?

It leads to death.  Because in the end, I am not the god I think I am.

Then there's that guy on the cross, the one on the end.  The one who knew who he was.  He knew he was a sinner.  He knew he deserved to be up there.  And he knew who Jesus was.  Perfect.  Innocent.  And  divine.

We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong.”  Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom."

And Jesus knew.  Jesus knew all the man's sins.  The hatred.  The pride.  The idols.  And still, Jesus offered this man paradise.  A place of rest and restoration.  A place of letting go and trusting Him.  A place of strength and growth.

...today you will be with me in paradise.

Paradise.  Maybe I need to just sit for a while.  I'll water my plants on the balcony and just sit with them.  And remember that even though I have so many sins, that God, in His perfect, sweet love desires to give me rest.  Forgiveness and rest.  Now.  And Eternally.