Best Of Both

Ken and I have been able to sneak back up to the cottage for a completely "exta bonus" three days, finishing off August in Georgian Bay style. What a gift!

It's not a holiday, per se; both of us brought work with us, and have kept in touch with faithful cohorts at home via the wonders of modern technology.

Still, writing sermons (my main objective for these days) is so inspiring in the so-quiet of a cottage morning, where my concentration is broken only by an eager visit from the chipmunk looking for breakfast, or the loud splash of that huge bass that repeatedly shows off his tricks for me.

So. Best of both worlds. It's such a happy thing to be here again, starting my morning with a cup of tea on the deck. AND it's such a happy thing to be engaged in meaningful work with sensational people and to be looking forward to all that's coming this fall.

I feel so full of blessings these days. This is not in the absence of challenge and heartbreak, both my own and the people I serve and love. The stories of our lives intertwined include difficult chapters all along the way. But there's a deeper understanding of the promised endings of things, and as I meditate on those promises, I am more and more convinced that good prevails.

I can rest in that conviction....and look out over the water or open the door to my office - either way, starting my day in confident expectation. Because God's holiness shines brilliantly into souls and out beyond time and space.

And I get to muse on these things on the dock. Quiet happiness. Gentle joy. Here and home, both feeling like home.

Best of both.
Sent from my BlackBerry device on the Rogers Wireless Network

I Like to Be Right

I didn't know this before, but apparently there's a boy's side and a girl's side to the blue plastic teeter totter in our backyard. I was informed of this little known fact by my 5 year old granddaughter, Abby, this afternoon.

She and her brother Zachary were up and downing quite successfully - part of our wonderful hours outside on this perfect long weekend - when suddenly Abby stopped the action, feet planted firmly on either side of her end.

"Wait!" she said, "We're on the wrong sides!" She said this rather decidedly, and with a clear tone of this being something that required immediate rectifying. I tried to explain that there really were no "sides" to teeter totters, but she bent her small head around to check what turned out to be a label on the one side of the toy. "There! There's the girl side and there's the boy side."

Sure enough, there was the label, showing two children, one smiling girl, and one smiling boy. And yes, Abby and Zachary were on the "wrong sides.". Well then.

Since Zachary is just two and it takes a bit more effort for him to climb on and off the teeter totter, and since we had, after all, just got started, I suggested that it really didn't matter who sat on what side, and let's just stay the way we are. But Abby was insistent. Helping Zachary do the switch, she looked at me, and said matter-of-factly, but without any cheekiness or attitude, "I like to be right."

So you do, my dear. And you come by it quite honestly, I'm afraid. First born female of a first born female of a first born female. If that's not a recipe for perfectionist tendencies, I don't know what is. Good thing both her mother and her grandmother are well aware of the dangers of our shared temperament, and have committed ourselves to the lifelong pursuit of balance, loosening the ropes, and, every once in a while and on purpose, colouring outside of the lines. And even though I am far from getting this down pat, hopefully, as Abby's personality continues to show itself, she and I can keep on learning together how to function and thrive, in health and wholeness, in a far from perfect world.

Still.....I admit to an appropriate degree of delight in her statement. Yes! Oh Honey, I like to be right too! Feels good to live in order and clarity. There's joy in truth and strength in obedience - to the right things of course. When it comes together, and there's a straightness to the path, and a goodness to the action, and a godliness to the choice, in those moments it's supposed to feel deeply and passionately right, even when it might also be so very hard to do. It's paths of righteousness that the psalmist is so glad his Gentle Shepherd guides him along.

And while the abuses of perfectionism can be brutal, please, my dearest child, do not ever stop liking being 'right'. Not, of course, in the way that has to win every argument or pridefully thinks you have all the answers. That's something entirely different. But this joy in doing it properly....delight in it. Don't think you have to "fix" this desire to be right. It's who God created you to be. And He wants to use it for Him.

In my recent ponderings about self awareness and self care, I am embracing my perfectionism these days. Reintroducing it as a means by which I can reduce some of the stresses that tend to make me a less gentle person than I want to be. I know this may sound somewhat contradictory, but the truth is, if I am allowed the time and space to do things "right", the world gets a better me. And when I strive to "chill" or "let it go" too much, if I give way to the mess and disorder for too long, try to live in it as if it were the norm, even if I think I'm doing that to accommodate others, I end up being a much paler version of myself.

So, I'm liking this about me again. But the trick is - and here Abby has it - in order to do this, I have to stop the teeter totter, take the time, help those around me who need help so I don't just dump them in the grass, and get myself situated properly. From time to time I will have to plant my feet firmly on the ground, bring the action to a halt, and make things right. Spend some time sitting quietly beside some water. Write slowly in my journal, so my penmanship is pretty again. Stop talking, and just listen. Like that.

Does it matter what side of the teeter totter you're on?

It might.