Prone To Wander
Who are you?
Not like, “Please state your full name for the record, ma’am.” I mean, what are you like?
Me?
I’m nuts.
Surely you know that by now.
Since yesterday was spent glory-ing just made that word up in my shortcomings, I’ve been thinking a lot about them. Might as well tell you.
I am surrounded by organized chaos. I like to say to my darling yet anal husband that he’s mistaken when he labels me as disorganized. Because, how can it be disorganized, if I know exactly where everything is? Medical bill? Yep. Third pile on the left, under the magazine and behind the Lego ninja. Boo-yah. In reality, I probably do operate in organized chaos. Ok, full disclosure, there’s probably a heavy emphasis on the chaos with a just a splash of the organized on the side.
Which leads me to another character trait of mine – I’m an eternal optimist. Sometimes, to a fault. I want so badly to believe the best will happen. Sometimes I need to believe it. The guy will get the girl. The bills will be miraculously paid. The house will be miraculously cleaned up. That one never happens. Everything will work out fine in the end. When movies don’t end this way, I pout. I’m taking my popcorn and goin’ home. Life should be this way – at least, if you ask me. Often, life don’t ask me, though.
I’m also the poster child for ‘that person’ on those personality profiles. I’m the uber-outgoing, “fun-at-parties” , never met a stranger, born leader who everyone loves. For the most part. I am fairly honest, sometimes to a fault. My filter is all but gone. I have a huge heart for people and truly want to be everyone’s friend. As in, everyone. The guy pumping gas next to me. My bank teller lady. The chick who wanted a peaceful morning, but had the misfortune of riding in the elevator with me for twelve floors. I mean it, everyone.
I’m that creative person you want on your team for a project because of my contagious spirit and spunky ideas. Plus, the planning meetings will be a blast and I’ll bring snacks. 🙂 But then you probably ok, desperately need someone like my husband on the team too, or the project won’t get done. Probably because I’ll lose interest or forget to send the deadline email out to the group. Details, schmetails. But, ooohh our display would totally be pretty!
In fact, on that note, a recent epiphany struck me quite hard. I guess that’s what epiphanies do best, huh? None, and I mean, not-a-stinkin-one of those people closest to me are like me. No, really. Zilch. Zero.
My man, couldn’t be more opposite. Our core values are similar. But, The Five Love Languages book revealed what we already knew. My top #1, #2, #3, #4, #5, were, no lie, his exact #5, #4, #3, #2, #1. Awesome.
My lifelong best friend yes, even through the awkward years, my sunshine, was a non-emotional, non-athletic, non-boycrazy, non-dramatic, non-starvingforattention chick. I was too, minus all the nons.
Super neighbor and I aren’t that much alike. She’s a planner and a cleaner. She loves order and lists. Schedules and deadlines. Ya, me…notsomuch.
Thing One likes to read. I could stop there. But she is also the poster child of an introvert. I think she is lovely and hil-ar-i-ous but when we meaning I grab twenty more people into the room, they don’t see what she lets me see. In fact, a few months ago when I began posting about our super cool Book Club I was fairly certain I would lose all my friends. I panicked and texted her my greatest fear –
Me: I am pretty sure I am going to lose all my friends over this thing.
Her: I know. But, it’s ok (me, ready for some inspiring and encouraging advice)… I’m an introvert, I only need one friend. I’ve got you. I’m good.
Me: Gee, thanks. Go read a book.
Most of my friends who I love so dear are truly not like me at all. Why is that? Is there some sort of law of nature that only allows one of ‘that kind’ of person in a group so they don’t eat each other? Do I dislike myself so much, I don’t like to be around other ‘me’ people? Or do I like myself so much, I want to be the only ‘me’ around? Hmmm, tough one. I’ll let you ponder that one for a bit.
Sometimes my entire life I have been labeled a flirt. I would like to believe I treat guys as openly and filter-less-ly add that one to my dictionary as I do girls. But, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to a smidge ok, a heap of insecurity that needs to feel like guys think I’m worth liking. Not that I want them to actually like me…just acknowledge I’m worth liking. Now would be a good time to bring in the psychologist.
I’m funny. In fact, I think I’m one of the funniest people I know. I crack me up all the time. And clearly, humility is high on my list as well, eh?
I can be an mile wide and an inch thick. Although, I will admit, God camped me out on my couch for a few years, causing that mile wide to get about six feet wide. The only direction I could dig was deep. I praise Him for that!
I am a recovering worrier. Like, a bad one. God sure can use medical roller coasters to help cure that. Either that, or send your butt to the looney bin. I had a 50/50 chance on that one. Jury ain’t back yet, either.
I forget things that are important.
I don’t notice details.
I’m not a super listener. But oh how I’m a great talker. Doesn’t that make up for it?
I’m an emotional wreck at times daily and yet I’m a pro at masking it so that you feel ‘everyting’s ok.’ God forbid I be sad, depressed, or downtrodden. That freaks people out.
But, all this out in the open, God can still use me, right?
(crickets)
I mean, I know He has called me to ministry. I feel He is leading me to write, to speak, to make my loud mouth used not for my good, but for His glory. He can take this whacked out lump o’ clay and turn it into something good, right?
Often I doubt, but deep down I know, I’m no accident. God made me this way for a reason. God can (as my Mom always told me to) use my powers for good and not for evil. Right?
If I know no stragner, then I have no problem giving the homeless guy a hug and making him smile. If I’m fun at parties, then I can turn something like scrubbing toilets at church into a fun shin-dig, right? If I pretty much lack a filter, then I can look my fellow pew resident in the face and lovingly suggest they leave the pew and hit the poor area of town for a change. In Jesus Name, of course.
I used to believe somewhere deep down in my soul that I was broken. I wasn’t made right.
I annoy some people. Only those breathing. I don’t blend in. I never fit in. I’m not modest and demure, contemplative or soft-spoken. Those are traits of a true woman of God in ministry, I assumed. How do I become those things? The answer is – I don’t.
I don’t believe that junk anymore. Thank God, I had a while say four years or so, to really analyze who I am. Maybe that’s why I trashed pretense. No time. No point. Also no one to have a pretense with when it’s just you and God on the couch. Again.
I was cleaning my house yesterday once a year whether it needs it or not and a song came on that struck me to my core. Being that I had me and my wrecked self on the brain, this one particular line hit be like a 2×4 to the head. Dang, God is good at that.
Would you listen to it with me? You will know when you reach the part that got me. Trust me, my picture would be in the margin of the hymnal if that was allowed, and not outright sacrilege. So, I found a blog where someone had multiple versions of this song to choose from. FYI, my favorite choice for which version is the best is the 7th one down, by Jadon Lavik. Love.
Please, take a moment and praise with me.
Jesus sought me, when a stranger, wandering from the fold of God. He, to rescue me from danger, interposed His precious blood.
Wow. Interposed His precious blood. Amazing.
Oh, to grace how great debtor, daily I’m constrained to be.
Not doubt.
But, here’s the kicker –
Prone to wander, Lord I feel it. Prone to leave the God I love.
Ugh.
Maybe that’s not you. Maybe we are built differently. You could obedient. Faithful. Reliable. Organized, for goodness sakes.
But, those three little words could be used as my profile description.
Prone. To. Wander.
Ugh, Lord I feel it. I hate it. I deny it. You redeem it.
So, my prayer today is simple. And, if you like, it can be sung – Here’s my heart, Lord, take and seal it. Seal it for thine courts above.
So, dear friend…leave a comment and tell me who you are. Don’t be shy. Lord knows I sure wasn’t.
Sola Deo Gloria.
Love this post (love all your posts actually!) Love your transparency–it’s so sorely needed in this life.
I tend to be more like your buddy–though I can be outgoing in a group because it’s needed, it exhausts me. I love to read and need solitude to recharge my batteries. My heart gets shattered over others’ hurts, and it’s overwhelming at times. I lead a small group of women at church because the Word of God has absolutely changed my life, and I want to share that with others. I am friendly, loyal, and a good listener. When I was in college (many moons ago), someone very outgoing said, “I love talking to you; you’re so stable.” I heard it as, “You’re so boring.” (Shrug–though I sometimes long for a dash of different, I’m pretty content as stable. Grin!)
I love to write, but I am a slow writer. I struggle because deep down I do not believe I have anything of value to say. Though my mind knows that is a lie, it’s one that I have trouble challenging. I’m working on it.
I struggle with wasted moments because I do not have an overall sense of vision. It frustrates me at times that it seems like my life/effort dribbles out over a variety of directions. It would feel more purposeful/successful if it seemed like it gushed out in one direction. All I can do is seek the Lord. He will lead.
Deb Weaver
thewordweaver.com
Yep. It takes one to know one. I am one. Also. Luv u girl!
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