on procrastination and perfectionism (Part 2)

Perfectionism goes deeper still. I read in a book the other day that said perfectionism at its core is trying to earn the acceptance and approval of others. Ouch! Did that hit you as hard as it just hit me?

As I take a sober look at my imperfection I tend to make the huge mistake of equating imperfect with inadequate. And who wants to be perceived as inadequate? So I find myself in the business of image management. Next time someone asks me if I have a job or work outside the home I will say yes, I have a full time job as a perfectionist, an image manager. It is a very high stress, exhausting job. I keep telling myself I need to quit, but I’m a workaholic and I just can’t help myself. Your opinion of me is just too important to me; I’m trapped in this job. My reputation and the essence of my being are at stake here. And if there is any chance of you perceiving me as anything less than perfect, or at the very least, better than you, then it is time to put in some overtime hours. It is during those overtime hours that I revert to the defense mechanism of procrastination. When all else fails, leave it unfinished. Works like a charm.

I put it off because I am just not willing to take the risk of being rejected in any way shape or form. I’ll keep it unfinished and keep all of you in the dark; you will never know how imperfect I really am!! Ha!

Who am I kidding?

I am a completely imperfect total mess.

And since I have worked on this post for days and I can’t come up with an inspiring ending, I of course procrastinated, left it unfinished and made myself this necklace.

I know you are just loving the bubbles at the bottom. You have no idea how hard it was for me to not rip the whole thing out and start all over again. I decided, however, to leave it imperfect.

on procrastination and perfectionism (Part 1)

Why do you procrastinate? What does your procrastination look like?

For most of us, most of the time, procrastination is just an avoidance or delay of the discomfort that one will incur by performing the task at hand. I don’t want to wash the dishes because I’m tired. So I procrastinate. I watch TV instead. I don’t want to clean the bathroom because it is nasty, and I get hot every time I clean the bathrooms. I procrastinate. I go swimming instead. I don’t want to struggle anymore with this piece that I’m writing. I procrastinate. I sweep the kitchen floor instead. I don’t want to fix dinner; I don’t even want to think about cooking dinner. I procrastinate. I play sudoku instead.

Let me tell ya’, I am a master procrastinator.

I have been noticing lately all of the unfinished projects that I have and all of the other ones that have not even made it from my brain to something you can actually see, feel or touch. I began to ask myself, what on earth is going on here? Why is it that I find so many things to do and so few of them to finish?

I really didn’t like the answer to my questions. I noticed that sometimes, most of the time, it wasn’t that I was just delaying the discomfort of the task; there was something much deeper that I was running from. Even though I didn’t like my answers, I’m going to share it with you anyway. Perhaps we could all benefit from looking deeper into what makes us procrastinate.

I noticed that when I procrastinate, what I’m really doing is delaying the Imperfect.

One of my many menacing issues in life is a constant struggle with perfectionism. Do I have any sisters out there? (no need for my real sisters to answer that question, we each came by it honestly, and just for the record, they are worse than me. Just kidding.)

My mind is very good at conjuring up all kinds of wonderful masterpieces, or if I can’t come up with any of my own, through pinterest and a plethora of other fabulous creative blogging women I have plenty of marvelous projects in my mind that are just waiting to be tackled.

The problem is, because I tend to be such a perfectionist, once I begin a job, sooner or later I start to notice that the final result is not going to be this perfect thing that I had envisioned. The next logical step then, in my mind, is to stop, drop and roll away.

Accepting the fact that I am imperfect and that everything I ever do is going to be imperfect is really hard. I fight this all of the time. I find that the best defense I have against imperfection is just to leave it incomplete. It is much easier to say, “it isn’t finished” than “it’s not perfect”.

Don’t get me wrong, I am a firm believer in excellence in everything we do and giving the best we possibly can. But if we spend our lives trying to be perfect, we will never be able to enjoy the imperfect, which is pretty much everything, so we can’t enjoy life the way we were supposed to enjoy it. We skip from one unfinished project to another and all we have to show for it is frustration; Or if we do finish, discontentment instead of a sense of fulfillment and accomplishment.

Solomon in the midst of all his toiling wisely discovered this truth in Ecclesiastes 2:24.

Nothing is better for a man than that he should eat and drink, and that his soul should enjoy good in his labor. This also, I saw, was from the hand of God.

In a small nutshell, our work is a gift from God; our souls are to enjoy our work, not the end result. If the perfect end result is what we are aiming for, since it will always be imperfect we won’t be able to enjoy it.

Do your best; don’t put it off. Enjoy away in your good labor, it is, after all, “from the hand of God.” Offer it up to the Lord.

Then, delight yourself in his perfection.

on worship (part 2)

Make sure you read Part 1 First.

Make up sex.

There is a reason we have that term. Make up sex has magical healing powers. Don’t tell me it doesn’t because if it didn’t, we wouldn’t have that fantastic term in the first place. Make up sex, the very best kind. You know it!

Have you ever noticed that when you go for long periods of time without having sex with your spouse a drift begins to form between the two of you? Sometimes the drift appears when sex is absent, other times sex becomes scarce and then the drift begins to emerge.  Either way when there is no sex true intimacy is hard to achieve, where there is no intimacy walls start to go up and true closeness is hard to come by. You argue more, your selfishness escalates and your willingness to give evaporates. You blow up and have the big fight.  But then… you have make up sex.  Sex not only creates intimacy like no other loving act on earth, but it is also a healing salve to our wounded and disconnected souls. When this kind of intimacy occurs, it’s magical healing starts to take place. 

 Does that sound familiar? I find that in my own spiritual journey the more selfish and self focused I am the harder it is to worship, because worship is about God, not about me. When I don’t worship and I become self centered my resentment and a lack of understanding of my relationship with God begins to deepen. At this point I am only interested in taking instead of giving myself to him. Do you see the connection?

Worship puts an end to wherever the cycle had degraded. Worship heals and reconciles. Worship is about giving. Worship takes the focus off of self and it gives to what it loves. The more we give ourselves to what and whom we love, the more joy we experience. Sex is the same way.

Just like in sexual intimacy, pleasure is to be given, but pleasure is also to be received.

As we recognize who we are in Christ and receive his precious gift of salvation, peace, love, joy and hope we are able to thank him and acknowledge him as the giver through worship. It gives us great pleasure in doing so and, it gives him great pleasure to receive it. He delights himself in you! You are his bride! He chose you. He died for you for the joy set before him (Heb. 12:2).  You are the apple of his eye.

Go and practice the healing power of sexual intimacy if you wish. But mostly I urge you to go practice the healing power of Worship as you give yourself to the Living God and connect with him like never before. Delight yourself in him and enjoy as he delights in you.

on being under the influence

You have heard (or perhaps even experienced) that when you are under the influence of alcohol you lose all inhibitions. Well, it is my contention today that when you are under the influence of PMS you lose all concept of reality. Furthermore, you also lose the ability to exercise moderation in any area of your life.

During PMS you are always extra fat and extra ugly, and everyone else is extra fat and extra ugly. Except for your thin friends, of course, they are suddenly extra thin and more gorgeous than ever. You become a monster and everyone else around you becomes a monster too, especially your children. You husband suddenly becomes insatiably horny and won’t keep his hands off of you, which under any other circumstance would be flattering, but now is just plain annoying. Your friends are mean, and your in-laws can do nothing right. You eat all the time, and when you are not eating you are crying or, at the very least, whining and complaining about something. What is there not to cry about? Everyone is a monster and you are fat.

Life is exasperating. 

You age 10 years. You get 10 new wrinkles, 10 new zits and 10 new ponds (in each breast!). It is 10 times hotter and everything takes 10 times longer to do; everywhere you go is 10 times further. You have told your kids what to do 10 times and your husband, well, he’s… disappeared by now.

When you reach 40 take all of the above and make it 10 times worse.

My clothes are tighter, my car is slower, I forget everything, I'm having a real bad hair day, and everything is so darn complicated. The dog won’t stop barking.

Hello, my name is Susan and I am under the influence.

I’m exasperated, I’m old and I have a hard time moving forward. I was on the computer for hours today trying to improve my blogging savvy-ness and learned nothing. I haven’t taken a shower and my head is hurting. I never made it to the gym, and I have at least 5 half written blog posts to finish, three more in my mind that I haven’t even started. I can’t remember the clever sub title that I was going to add to this post, but, even if I could, I wouldn’t know how to add a subtitle anyway, because I learned nothing today. Remember?

I have clean clothes spread on my bed, waiting to be folded and put up. I will at some point in time throw them all back on the floor so that I can go to bed. There is hair all over the bathroom floor, books all over my desk, soap all over the bathroom sink, and the only reason I swept the kitchen today is because my monstrous clumsy son broke a glass. I also have no food on the table, only chocolate in my belly. Who cares about anyone else anyway? They are monsters.

Don’t worry, after the hangover I’ll be the happiest woman on earth, married to the sexiest man alive, enjoying the most awesome kids ever, and admiring best in-laws that ever existed. I will feel beautiful and alive. I will run 4 miles, eat lots of fruits and veggies, and cook healthy meals for my family. I will smile, not yell; I will laugh and not cry. I will fold the clothes, clean the house and take a shower. I will wear makeup, put on my cutest outfit, and wear my wedges without falling over.

Until then I think I will go pour me a glass of wine, find me an uncluttered spot in the house and read a non-thought provoking book.

Cheers to all women. Cheers to PMS and being under the influence!

on worship, an act of trust (part 1)

Take a deep breath here and stay with me. Warning. This is a very candid post.

This is actually a re-post from about a year and a half ago that I felt like sharing again. I edited it slightly and as I pondered more about the subject matter I decided to write a second part that I will be publishing some time next week. Stay tuned if you are not scandalized by the subject matter!

Here we go.

I read a long time ago in a Beth Moore study about prayer life and how it can be likened to marital intimacy. Although I agree with her because there is a great bit of intimacy in prayer, I tend to agree more with John Eldredge.

In his book "The Journey of Desire" he wrote a chapter titled: "The grand affair".

He writes:

"For us creatures of the flesh, sexual intimacy is the closest parallel we have to real worship"

Stop here and let me say this. I hope you are married so you can better understand what I am going to write about. I also hope that you are as blessed as I am with a very healthy marriage. I am married to the most wonderful man on earth for me. My husband, although he is not perfect and he doesn't always "get me", he loves me very well. He is my best friend, my companion, he is good at lifting me up, taking care of me, and he is a wonderful giving lover.

Although Eldridge does a way better job at going deep into this, he really helped me understand the discipline of worship in a whole new light. I got to thinking about sexual intimacy and what it requires of us. Lets face it, if you are truly going to experience great sexual intimacy with your husband there are a few things that are kind of required, or else it may not be all that healthy of a relationship.

First of all I need to feel very secure in the love and loyalty that my husband has toward me. That is something that he has proven over and over in the 21 years of our marriage. My husband is faithful.

Are you secure in the fact that God loves you, that he is loyal to you; he wishes no harm to you. Can you see how he has shown himself faithful to you all these years?

Second, it's kind of hard to have sex with your clothes on! You have to take it all off. For some crazy reason my husband thinks that I am the sexiest, most desirable person on the face of this earth. I know that and I BELIEVE it! I know that I am not perfect; he knows that I am not perfect, yet he STILL wants me. He still treasures me, and when I understand that it is way easier for me to take it all off and still have the light on. I have nothing to hide.

Do you think that God loves you and treasures you? Do you know that you can "take it all off" and he will still love you where you are, with the “extra pounds” the not so perfect “figure”, with the "cellulite" or "varicose veins". If you don't feel like he will take you as you are, then you will have a hard time taking it all off. You will go through the motions and never know what it feels like to be "naked" in his perfect presence yet still be treasured in your imperfect being. Don't be ashamed in the presence of God, delight in him and let him delight in you!

Lastly, to have great sex you must give it your all. There is no holding back. You could call it complete abandon.

All of this requires TRUST. I believe that that is the bottom line in worship. It is why I think that worship is an act not only of adoration, but also one of trust, an expression of trust. "I not only love you and adore you Lord, you are the creator of the Universe and of me. You are powerful and mighty, but also I trust you and I GIVE myself fully to you with complete abandon."

How can you believe, take it all off and be naked in the presence of God if you don't trust him? Don't worry about what it looks like on the outside, or what others seem to be doing, ask yourself: Do I trust you, God, with myself? Then give yourself completely to him, no holding back.

do you have an ark to build?

As I was struggling and arguing with God again about my inadequacies, lack of experience, and lack of audience he brought to mind the story of Noah.

It is estimated that it took Noah 55-75 years to build the ark. Although it ultimately saved humankind, only 8 people boarded that boat. Only 8.

This is what he taught me that day.

I have time. I don’t have time to procrastinate, but I have whatever time God has allotted me. No matter how difficult the task is or how long I think it may take me to accomplish, time is going to be ticking away no matter if I do it or not. I can avoid it and whine while time passes, or I can get to work (perhaps even fail) while time passes. He has given us time, lets make our time count.

I can’t worry about who gets on board. My job is not to get people on board, my job is to walk faithfully with God and obey. So be it if I only have 8 who join me. My art and my work will not ultimately save the world, but even if only 8 come with me, we can together ride the storm and delight ourselves in rainbows at the end. 

Don’t get caught in the storm. When the rain starts falling and the waters begin to rise you’ll be glad that, even though it seemed crazy at the time, you obeyed anyway.

Now, go grab your hammer and nails. Go build your ark. He will give you the time you need and the right company to hold your hand when the boat starts to rock.

between spit and heaven

In her book So Long Insecurity, Beth Moore pays a visit to a very unusual story in the Bible. It’s one of those stories that makes your head spin and you can’t help but wonder what on earth was Jesus doing? And what on earth would this mean to me? As it turns out, as with most stories that swim in my mind for weeks on end, the more I thought about it the more it meant to me.

Jesus Heals a Blind Man at Bethsaida

 ²² They came to Bethsaida, and some people brought a blind man and begged Jesus to touch him. ²³ He took the blind man by the hand and led him outside the village. When he had spit on the man’s eyes and put his hands on him, Jesus asked, “Do you see anything?”

 ²⁴ He looked up and said, “I see people; they look like trees walking around.”

 ²⁵ Once more Jesus put his hands on the man’s eyes. Then his eyes were opened, his sight was restored, and he saw everything clearly. ²⁶ Jesus sent him home, saying, “Don’t even go into the village.”

Can I get an amen on the, this is just a weird story?

What’s up with spitting in a man’s eyes in the first place? Interestingly, the act of spitting is quite an insult anywhere else in scripture and, well, in any societal mores period; it is gross and degrading. Why would Jesus choose such a crazy unconventional means to heal this blind man? Unfortunately, I don’t have an answer for that, but I do love Beth’s perspective on the whole spitting matter.

In terms that are common to us today, you might think of it as Christ slathering the blind man’s eyes with his own DNA.

This is not the only instance in which he chooses such unconventional approach to healing. He healed another man’s blindness with a concoction of spit and dirt from the ground in John 9. And in Mark 7 he also healed a man that was deaf and “could hardly talk” by placing his fingers in his ears and then it says that he “spit and put his hand on his tongue”. Surely it wouldn’t be blasphemous for me to say that God sometimes does really weird things, would it?

Weird enough if we left it there. But what really must be catching your attention as it did mine is the fact that at first glance it sure does seem like Jesus has made a mistake. This man is only partially healed. Do you remember Wesley, in The Princess Bride, after Wesley is tortured to death and brought to the witch Doctor? Wesley is declared by Billy Crystal’s character (the which doctor) as “mostly dead”. I guess we could declare this blind guy as “mostly healed”. I mean, he went from what we can assume complete blackness blind to seeing men as trees, walking. Close enough? I don’t think so.

As I continue on my own personal journey of healing, I find myself relating to this guy more and more. For starters, notice how he takes the blind man by the hand and guides him outside the village. In my own life although I could have been healed anywhere (as could have this blind guy) Jesus chose to take me by the hand and lead me outside of what was familiar to me, literally outside of my village to a completely different part of the country. Without knowing what was really going on when God took my hand to bring me to Texas he knew that this was the place where I would best feel his healing hands upon me, and where I would begin to see real change taking place in my heart.

Healing is part of the restoration and sanctification process that we receive only through Christ. He already spilled his DNA from the cross to bestow onto us this healing; and after his hands are upon us the healing journey will be so different for each of us. I love that about him. He does not use a “one prescription heals all” method. We are all wounded so differently, and we each have our own stories to live, and eventually our own stories to tell. We can come to him in secret as the woman with the “flow” did, or we can have people who care about us lead us to this healer, as the blind man’s friends did, or just have our loved ones intercede on our behalf, as the father of the dead little girl did. He has an individual remedy for each of us.

My favorite part of the story comes next. After spitting and laying his hands on the blind man he says:

Do you see anything?

I love how Jesus checks in on him. Jesus is the one pursuing us.

Sometimes I feel like Jesus is continually checking in on me in this way. He asks me, what do you see? Most of the time, I feel as though I still see “men like trees”, in other words I don’t think I’m seeing things clearly. You have for sure laid your healing salve on my being; I see things differently, but not clearly. Here is the best part.

He put his hands on his eyes again…

His healing never ends. I believe this only from experience. Perfection and complete restoration will not be reached till we are with him in heaven. Right now I want him to ask me every day, what do you see? When I see distortedly I want his healing hands on me once again.

…and he made him look up.

This reminds me of Peter, as Audio Adrenaline puts it so well, “if you keep your eyes on Jesus, you can walk on water”. My healing cannot take place by looking at men; they will look like trees. My healing will take place when I look up. Up toward my Father, up toward heaven, up to Jesus himself.

And the hope of the journey is:

And he was restored and saw everyone clearly.

My healing is a constant touch of the hands and spirit of Jesus as I continue to look up. That is just where I am now. I am in the pause somewhere between the spit and heaven. Some days I just have to say, Lord, I see men like trees, walking. I need your touch as I look to heaven. I want to see things clearly.