a musing ames

As a little girl, I believe my mom clearly saw one of my biggest character flaws. Often times, friends would come home with me after school to play. Their parents would come to pick them up, their sudden disappearance leaving toys scattered all over the place. I would complain that I didn’t want to clean up the clutter on my own, and my mom would tell me that the next time they came over, I should demand that they help me clean things up before they go. I resisted, insisting that it wasn’t fair for them, secretly knowing they would dislike me for making such a request. But my mom gave me authorization, which I sometimes wish were still acceptable to use at my current age, “Tell them your Mami told  you to have them help you.” Genius! I would no longer be the bad guy, she gave me permission to make her the target of their unhappiness.

As an adult, I have too have realized that people pleasing is my weakness. I also realized, though, that it has served as a strength at times, in showing hospitality or empathy towards others. I think I started valuing the positive side of the people-pleasing coin to the point that I forgot what types of compromises I can make in the name of the comfort of others.

Until this last week. After seeking some counsel in a situation I thought I may have dealt with poorly, a friend pointed out that I was “sensitive” and “cared a lot about what other people thought,” implying that I probably cared too much (a fair, and probably accurate assessment). People pleaser, rang in my ears.

At another point, I contemplated a decision I had to make for next year and realized that my motive wasn’t faithfulness to God (because faithfulness in this instances would not require me to take the particular action I was contemplating), but rather worrying about what a person at my local church may think. When that realization struck me, again I heard people pleaser ringing in my ears. I stopped and prayed for forgiveness. When I stop and examine my motives for many of the things that I do, I cringe at realizing how many of them are motivated at least in part by a desire to preserve my image and keep those around me happy.

For the last half of this semester, I’ve been reading through John in my devotions. One morning last week, I came to John 12:42-43:

Nevertheless, many even of the authorities believed in him, but for fear of the Pharisees they did not confess it, so that they would not be put out of the synagogue; for they loved the glory that comes from man more than the glory that comes from God.

I began to tear up. There, in the Word of God, I saw myself. One who believes in Jesus, but often doesn’t behave (or misbehave) in the way that I should because I love the glory that comes from man more than that comes from God. The conviction came to a sharper point as I contemplated my current circumstances: as it is finals time (why I only blog during finals, I don’t know), I have began to worry about what my professors will think about my performance in their class more than I worry about God’s perception of my work.

This realization of course reminds of David Asscherick’s message from GYC 2006 in Balitmore, “Because of Those Who Sat.” But I guess what’s striking me more now, is not that I’m always failing to do what’s right because people are watching, but that I find myself doing what’s right because people are watching rather than the fact that God is watching.

I come before the throne of grace as a penitent people pleaser. My only prayer is that I may be able to speak as Jesus did when His family, disappointed in Him for not sticking close by, finally found Him after His first visit to Jerusalem. He talked about His Father. “And He said to them, ‘Why did you seek Me? Did you not know that I must be about My Father’s business?’” Luke 2:49. He was acting out of fidelity to His Father, and cared only about what He thought.

Maybe my Mami was on to something after all…

This semester I have been having Bible studies with one of the Adventist undergrads here at UVa. She wants to learn more about what Adventists believe so she better knows how to answer her friends when they ask. Last week, after we talked about prophecies concerning Jesus, she opened up about the fact that she didn’t know what God wanted her to do with her life.

So this week’s study was dedicated to practical steps to determining God’s Will, especially in the area of choosing a major/profession. I am not wise enough, nor have enough life experience to share authoritatively on the matter. But I do have notes from a wise counselor that helped me think through this process, and which ultimately led me to law school, so I brought them along and we did a Bible study on it and spent some time in the SOP.

As I was preparing, I was reminded again why it is so important to mentor others in the church: through teaching them, God reminds us of lessons that we need to (re)learn. As I was flipping through the chapter “Lifework” in the book Education, I came across this quote that I have underlined, with notes scrawled on the side. The first part that caught my eye said, “Many a man whose talents are adapted for some other calling, is ambitious to enter a profession; and he who might have been successful as a farmer, an artisan, or a nurse, fills inadequately the position of a minister, a lawyer, or a physician” (emphasis added).

I sighed as I read that. I have been wondering a lot whether or not I was seeking a place that was beyond what God had intended for me in coming to law school, and the quote seemed to speak right towards that. But it was the part that was underlined that made me repent: “There are others, again, who might have filled a responsible calling, but who, for want of energy, application, or perseverance, content themselves with an easier place” Education, 267. Scribbled underneath I have written “summary of compenents need for success,” indicating that I had noticed elsewhere in the book that the elements that are necessary for success are energy, application and perseverance.

You see, while I was “successful” in high school and college, it didn’t take much work. I mean I worked, but it didn’t take a lot of perseverance or application to achieve my desired results. There were a couple challenging classes, but I would usually just be satisfied with what I could get in them rather than try to work hard for something better. I knew I had high enough grades in other areas to insulate me from one or two less then excellent grades.

But then I came to law school. And I have to work. Hard. Just to be average. And because I don’t have the same natural talent here that I did in college, it has often caused me to question whether this is where I’m supposed to be. But after reading the quotes, I realize, at heart, I’m lazy. I’d prefer the easy route. Maybe God called me to law school so that I would learn to use my energy not just to apply myself, but also to persevere. I think those are two things that I have lacked in my work ethic up until this point. If it wasn’t natural, I’d just drop it. He’s developing in me a better work ethic.

So I’m thankful for the student asking for help, because her questions have really caused me to evaluate my own life, the path that I’m going down, whether it’s the one God has intended for me, and if I am doing my part in cooperating with divine power.

With finals less than four weeks away, for God’s sake (Isaiah 43:7), I’m praying for energy. I’m praying for application. I’m praying for perseverance.

So help me, God.

I do not get mad very often.  While I tend to be an emotional creature, anger is not one of the emotions that I frequently experience.  But I remember one time last year, while I did volunteer work as a secular campus missionary, I became angry.  It was a high stress situation, trying to coordinate a large number of students in a new area our team was unfamiliar with and unable to survey ahead of time to determine the best course of action.

I approached a friend to quickly pass an idea by him.  As I was talking, it appeared he was listening, but just when I really needed his feedback, he turned his head and responded to something someone else was saying, and laughed.  Then he turned back and looked at me.  The horrible feeling that I had in the pit of my stomach must have shown clearly on my face, because his complete countenance changed.  I could not believe it, he was not listening to me!  And he’d been listening to someone else!

We reconciled not long after that.  But this experience came back to mind as I was studying Psalm 116: 1-2:

I love the LORD, because He has heard
my voice and my pleas for mercy.
Because He inclined His ear to me,
therefore I will call on Him as long as I live.

Knowing that someone is listening changes the way that we interact with them.  How often as a teenager trying to get parental blessing on something we didn’t think they would approve of would we slide the request past them quickly, while they were not paying attention, hoping for that nominal “mm hmmm” and run out the door before they realize what they just granted permission for?

Not so with God.  He is listening.  Anytime, all the time.  He doesn’t just hear.  He inclines His ear.  And this simple characteristic is enough for the psalmist to love the Lord and keep coming back to tell what is going on in his life.

If you know someone is listening to you, it changes what you say, how you say it.  It changes your expectations of the person you are telling.

As I reflect on this portion of Scripture, I realize two things.  First, I take prayer much too casually.  God is not a parent we’re trying to sneak by to get away with what we want.  He cares.  My prayers should reflect the fact that God is not just hearing, He is listening.

Second, because I am created in God’s image, I need to master the art of listening.  According to Psalm 116, a person who listens is a person worth loving.  A loving and lovable Christian is the best argument for the gospel.  So the power of the gospel to transform me must include the power to make me a better listener, which in turn will make me more lovable.  An attribute ingrained in my very being.  Even when a friend is talking my ear off.  Even when I’m the one who really wants to say something.

So, I’m listening.

I just realized something as I reflected on this past week.  Everything I’ve been told I needed to know about law and etiquette this week, I learned from canvassing.

Example #1:  Lawyers cannot use futility as an excuse to attempt to keep their client from wrong doing.

Lawyers know the law.  As in house counsel, they know when those that they represent may be doing something wrong.  Even if they think that the people they are representing will not cease and disist from their wrongful behavior, the lawyer is obligated to tell the client they should stop, and why.

But I already learned this.  As canvassers, we can’t use futility as an excuse either.  We know God’s law in a way that non-believers don’t, and it’s up to us to tell those who are within our sphere of influence what He expects from us.  We knock on every door.  Even if we don’t think they’ll respond well.  Because the truth is, just as with the lawyers, you never know, the person you are telling may actually respond and get that book.

Example #2:  You must find creative ways of making friends quickly for networking sake.

When attending a social function hosted by your law firm, you are expected to network with a whole bunch of people you may not know.  Most people don’t like talking to strangers, it doesn’t come naturally to us, at least not to me.  But talk you must.  You can try talking about any random thing: their shirt, their practice area, whatever.  One of the most effective ways is to get people talking about themselves.  If this is still something you have trouble with, practice all the time: at the grocery store, mall, post office.

But this is something I also picked up how to do canvassing.  If you don’t want that door slammed on your face, and you want an opportunity to let the person know about the precious books you are carrying, you have to make friends quickly.  What did our leaders say?  Talk about the dog, their nice yard, their kids, what their hobbies are.  Find anything to talk about that they like so they can associate that with you.

Example #3: One minute commercial.

While networking with people, you need to have the one minute commercial of yourself so you can let people know who you are, who they are dealing with.

This is something else I learned canvassing.  Identify yourself, quickly (one minute is way too long), and explain what you are doing at the person’s door.  And keep it simple, that way, they can remember you.

To think, I earned money learning these lessons the first time…

I love the idea of new things, new skills, new places, new people.  But I also like order, control, and definition.  As I have had to spend the last couple of weeks saying, “I’m new here,” or “I’m new at this” and then ask for help, I realize how much out of my comfort zone I am right now.

This reminds me of when I was a little girl, trying to tie my shoes.  I knew what I was supposed to do.  Cross the laces. Make a loop with the one on the right.  Pinch it with your right thumb.  Bring the other lace over your right thumb and pointer finger, and then through the loop you just made.  Pull until secure.

I would repeat the process out loud over and over again as I tried, but I just couldn’t do it, my fingers were too clumsy.

The same was true of the piano.  Those first couple years, I would ask my dad to play the song my teacher assigned so I knew how it was supposed to go.  When it was my turn, and I realized after three measures my rendition would be no where near his, I would bang my fists on the piano in frustration.

But if you think about it, no one would blame a child for this, would they?  Well, minus the violence towards the piano.  When you’re learning something new, you’re not expected to do it right the first time.  Making mistakes, asking questions and getting help is okay as long as you keep on trying.

The same is true today.  I have to Google how to get everywhere, even church.  I have to ask for clarification about every last detail of enrollment.  While I may be frustrated with the fact that I don’t know how to be a knowledgeable citizen of my new town or school, it’s to be expected.  I’m a newbie here.

My frustration in learning  mirrors my frustration in my own spiritual experience.  After being born in a sinful condition, just because I have become a Christian doesn’t mean I’m automatically holy.  I’m new at this too, although not as new as I was, say, seven years ago, or even a year ago.

So when I stumble, I shouldn’t be surprised.  Just because you’re new to an area doesn’t always get you out of a traffic ticket, as a friend of my discovered this summer.  We mess up, we have to deal with the consequences, but after making that mistake, we probably won’t make it again.  The same is true in learning to be a Christian

And just like my dad showed me how to tie my shoes and played songs on the piano for me so I would know how to sound, I have an example to follow in Christ.  He has given the Holy Spirit to instruct on how to live to be a citizen of heaven, rather than of this Earth.  It’s a process, from one level to another.

“And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit.” 2 Corinthians 3:18.

One more thing.  By now, I know how to get the grocery store.  I can tie my shoes just fine (most of the time).  I still know by memory some songs from piano lessons.  I can’t stay new forever.

In the same way, not learning lessons that I need to learn in my Christian experience because “I can’t be perfect today” is not an excuse.  Christian growth isn’t static–you never arrive.  It’s dynamic, growth should always be taking place.  I should always be new at something, but not new to everything.

Humans were made to learn new things, how to tie a shoe, how to play a piano, how to learn directions around town.  But the most important thing that we are supposed to learn is how to be like God, to have His character perfected in us.  Just because you mess up once, twice, ten times, doesn’t mean it’s time to give up Christianity.  Jesus promises forgiveness, and we get to try again as He changes us to be better equipped to do better.

The point is try.