Holey Heart

It was recently suggested to me that I do positive self-affirmations when I look at myself in the bathroom mirror each morning. Like, write stuff on sticky notes and post it on the mirror.

I don’t know why that should be so difficult, but it is. I sometimes will say positive things out loud. More often than not, my thoughts when I look at myself are affirming. But the whole sticky note affirmation thing has met with deep resistance.

I have enough clutter in there; I don’t want more.

I would feel silly.

What would my kids think if they saw.

Yeah, I know they are pretty lame excuses.

I saw this graphic on a friend’s Facebook page and thought, this may be the kind if affirmation I should put up on the mirror:

I did not think of myself when I first saw that. I thought of a man I know (of course, it would be a man!). I would totally put that on his bathroom mirror. And if any man I love ever put that on my mirror, I would melt. I would not be thinking about clutter. I’d be thinking about leaving all my clothes on the floor.

So why shouldn’t I love my stubborn self that way?

Yesterday was the National Day of Prayer. I did not go to any special services for it; however, I did take time to reflect on prayer as one of the ways I practice self-care.

Most days, reading and meditation are a part of my morning routine. But before I crack open the daily readers, before I turn on the light, before I even get out of bed, I say good morning and thank you to God, even on the mornings I’m not ready to be awake. Especially those mornings.

One of my favorite prayers is an oldie but goodie – the Lord’s Prayer. The danger with this prayer is that it’s so familiar, I can easily forget what the words mean.

Most of the time, we pray this as a prayer of petition. We say, “Thy kingdom come,” when the kingdom is all around us, closer than the air is to our skin. We ask that God’s will be done (as if His Will didn’t already trump the worst self-will that we could throw out into the world when Jesus died and rose from the dead).

We ask God to give us “daily bread” (without acknowledging that if we are alive today to pray to Him, He has given us everything we need for today).

We ask God to forgive us, perhaps without realizing that the forgiveness we request is not unconditional, but directly proportional to the forgiveness we give to our worst, most unrepentant enemies.

We ask our heavenly Father not to lead us into situations that tempt us, as if it were even possible for God to lead us away from His presence and into His absence (which is the very definition of “sin”).

These petitions make no sense to me. The only real request in the Lord’s Prayer is, “Deliver us from evil.”

I don’t think the Lord’s Prayer was ever intended to be a petition. I pray it as a bold declaration of my faith:

God, you are my father, my creator. Your name – I AM – is holy, sacred and powerful.

Your kingdom is here inside me and all around me.

Your will is more powerful than any earthly power, reaches into every corner of this world and uses every good and bad choice we make for your ultimate glory. Even if I don’t like it, my present circumstances and even the evil I face are allowed by that Will, if only to draw me and others closer to you.

I trust that you will give me everything I need to be useful to you for this day only. Tomorrow will take care of itself.

I believe the only thing standing in the way of Your forgiveness is my ability to receive it, and the only thing blocking me from receiving Your forgiveness is my anger and resentment of others.

I know that if I am separated from You, it is because I was the one who moved away. Please protect me from and relieve me of anything that would come between us.

For the Kingdom, the Power, and the Glory are yours, now and forever.

Amen.

I missed my exit today.

I was running a few minutes behind schedule this afternoon, trying to make it to Mechanicsville from the West End before the bus dropped the kids off at precisely 2:39 pm. I had about 24 minutes. But I was on auto-pilot, and instead of getting on I-64 East from Staples Mill Road, I drove straight past the exit in the direction of my parents’ house like I’ve done so many times before.

I realized my mistake only seconds too late. I couldn’t turn around and go back, and I couldn’t get in the far left turn lane to make a U-turn because it is blocked with a concrete median strip. I had to keep going in the direction I was headed, knowing full well it was not the direction I needed to be heading if I wanted to make it home before the bus got there.

To make matters worse, there were “no U-turn” signs at the next several intersections. I had to go about a mile in the wrong direction before I could turn around, retrace my steps, and get on the correct exit that would take me out onto the highway.

Let me tell you what I did not do.

I did not beat myself up for missing the exit. It was a simple mistake, made in part because this is the route I had taken several times over the past few days. And on those days, it was the right direction. It doesn’t take the mind very long to form a habit.

I did not curse or panic when I got to that second “no U-turn” sign. I did sigh. But I knew that eventually, there would be a break in the road and the traffic and I’d get back on course. And even if it made me late, I had a back-up plan. I had my neighbor’s phone number, and I could call her and ask her to keep an eye out for the kids.

I didn’t speed. The 30 seconds I might save would have done me no good if I’d gotten pulled over by a cop who would guarantee my tardiness to the bus stop.

Let me tell you what I did do.

I drove until I could make a U-turn, carefully waited until there was a break in the traffic, began backtracking down Staples Mill Road, got on the correct exit, and miraculously made it home with about one minute to spare.

I thanked God for the mistake I’d made, because it showed me that I’m capable of treating myself gently when I make a mistake or get off-course. I was grateful for this minor chance to practice self-forgiveness and self-correction without guilt, shame, or trying to force myself to change direction when it was clearly unsafe to do so.

I also laughed at myself and my crazy ability to see my simple, everyday goof-up as a profound spiritual analogy.

Less than a week ago, I wrote a pretty scathing reflection about my struggle to let go of old patterns and behaviors. In the words of one of my readers, “That was a lot of self-spanking.” If only he’d seen the first draft, when I was using the proverbial belt on myself!

Sometimes I find myself headed on a familiar road headed to a familiar destination, because at one time that was the right road, and the right destination, and the only thing that makes the journey the “wrong” one today is that now I have a slightly different destination and that road is not the most direct route. It will take me there, eventually. As in Robert Frost’s poem about the two paths diverging in a wood, “way leads on to way.” My human instinct is to immediately correct my course, but that’s not always possible – sometimes changing course is illegal, puts others in harm’s way, or even puts me in danger. Sometimes I just have to accept that I have to keep traveling in the “wrong” direction until I get a sign that says it’s safe to make a U-turn. Maybe that distance is only a few hundred feet, or maybe it is several miles, but that leg of the journey is my chance to get clear on where I want to go and how I want to get there. I could speed, I could curse, I could beat myself up, but none of those things gets me any closer to my destination.

Of all the scenarios in my life on which I could overlay this analogy, the one that stands out the most to me is my failed marriage. There were lots of “exits” I missed, even before we said “I do.” Once I’d finally become aware and then  accepted that I was headed in the wrong direction, immediately changing course wasn’t possible or safe. There were “no U-turn” signs all over that thoroughfare, even though there were plenty of breaks in the median and surely I could have made a left turn without getting caught. Instead, I waited for a sign that said it was safe to turn around, and instead of mourning all the backtracking I had to do, I was grateful to be headed back to the intersection that would take me in a new direction and hopefully to my intended destination.

The funny thing about roads is that there really is no wrong road or wrong direction. No matter where I am on the journey, the road ahead of me will eventually lead to another road, and then another road, and then another road, and eventually, the intended destination. Some routes will take me less time. Some will take me through more beautiful scenery. Some might take me through a dangerous part of town, and sometimes it might be better for me to just make a U-turn and retrace my steps.

I believe I could have stayed married and I would have eventually gotten to whatever destination God intends for me. I’m sure there would have been some really great pit-stops along that journey, too. But the road was also taking me to a place I really didn’t want to go through, no matter what kind of vistas might have been waiting on the other side. Driving with my eyes closed certainly wasn’t protecting me, either. I chose to turn around.

I have a choice to be awake at the wheel. Better still, I have a choice to let God take the wheel so I can just sit in the passenger seat and enjoy the view from the window. It sure beats looking in that rear-view mirror.

At the beginning of the year, one of my informal “resolutions” was to become better at goal setting. Ideally, I wanted to have some daily goals for myself, some weekly and monthly goals, and a few annual goals.

My daily goals include keeping the living areas of my home picked up, flossing my teeth, reading scripture and daily meditations, and calling friends. Weekly goals include some self-care activities, going to church, writing my blog posts, sticking to my meal plan, keeping on top of the laundry (still working on that one!). Monthly goals include staying on top of sending invoices, keeping a written monthly budget, create something crafty. And my annual goals were to powerwash the house and have the carpets professionally cleaned.

It has recently come to my attention that in “tending my temple,” the goals I’ve set for myself, especially the annual ones, are heavily weighted in favor of my domicile. Now, I think having a nice, clean, and tidy home is pretty important for a sense of well-being. But do I really want that to be my top priority?

I think I need to take another look at my goals. I need a more balanced approach. I need to put my kids and my health more prominently on the list. So over the course of the next few weeks, I will be tweaking my goals a little bit to more accurately reflect my priorities.

I’m not sure exactly how I’m going to do this. But I’m going to start with one major goal for the year – have an annual physical. It’s way overdue.