Same God, Fresh Perspectives

So there I was, parked outside of this house decorated for Christmas with about 45 different colored lights blinking at a rapid pace, as a (I think?) animated Santa Claus held a candle and waved from the upper right window. I wasn't the only car there. Several people had stopped to take in the sight, but I was the only one hanging out the window with a camera, publicly ridiculing the house as the worst-decorated home I had ever seen. I say "publicly" because I came home and uploaded the video to my blog. This blog.

I have driven by that house more times than I can count this holiday season, and I have never driven by when there were not cars parked out front. I'm guessing they were cars with little kids in them. It reminded me of when I was a child, and my dad and I would always pick one night during Christmas to go out and drive around to find the most decked-out houses. Sometimes we went into Lancaster City. The mansions down near President Avenue never failed to delight.

God took those precious memories and showed me something unpleasant about myself: I am negative and cynical.

I don't know when or how it happened, but somewhere along the way I began speaking sarcasm as my first language. A little sarcasm fits perfectly sometimes; other times, sarcasm hurts. It may not hurt any human being, but sometimes it hurts God. I realized that I was out ridiculing the houses with the most Christmas spirit, not people who need professional decorating help. I was being a jerk about the same thing that used to thrill me as a kid. When I was little, the more lights there were, the happier I was! When did I become the grumpy old cat lady who complains about everyone and everything?

Maybe it sounds like a small revelation, but it was big for me. I have to acknowledge I have not always been a shining example of the fruits of the spirit. So I made a very deliberate decision that I was going to let God change my heart, and it has been amazing how quickly He has been doing so.

The way I joke around has changed; I'm not constantly judging people and situations; I have more patience. Most of all, I have real joy. I never realized how uptight I was about so much of life until I let go and decided to let God unravel me. You don't always see God's handiwork immediately, but in this instance, I can't STOP seeing it. On Saturday I was out Christmas shopping for my baby nephew when another checkout line opened up. The cashier called over to my husband and I and as we made our way to her line, another woman RAN past us and got in line ahead of us. I almost didn't know what to do with myself when I realized it wasn't even bothering me. Not that I pick fist fights with people at the Hobby Lobby, because I don't, but in the past I would have made a handful of snide remarks under my breath, at least. It was almost this sense of... wait... MY TONGUE ISN'T MOVING!! Here I was just cut off by a woman buying a bunch of crosses in a Christian store, and I had nothing to say about it. It was...weird.

All my life, I have wanted to be gentle and soft-spoken, but I've always been the exact opposite. There was always a little chunk of my childhood getting in the way, giving off the message, "If you mess with me, prepare to kiss the pavement." I was always on the defensive, always coming across harsh and cold for the sake of protecting myself. I was always scared of vulnerability. So imagine my shock when vulnerability turned out to be so joyful and peaceful!

Last week one of my neighbors put an inflatable yard thingie beside our apartment building. It's a couple of penguins, I think. (I admit, I haven't really stared at it for very long.) When I first saw it, I got angry. Yes, I'm serious - I got angry. My husband commented in the parking lot that I was the only person he had ever met who got mad at Christmas decorations. It made me think. And think. And think.

It made me ask God for a purer heart and a fresh perspective. I think God must have injected me with turbo grace because my line of vision is vastly different from what it was this time last Monday.

I've been celebrating a little something I like to call "emotional sobriety." I haven't been waging war against depression lately, or cycling out of control as I have in the past. I guess this joy thing started long before the blinky Christmas house of the inflatable yard thingies, but it TOOK those things to make me realize how different I was. I'm handling things better. I'm trusting God more and flipping out a lot less. I can thank new antidepressants for that, partly, but I'm pointing more towards God. There are some things even a pill can't do.

A few months ago, I made another deliberate decision - I decided I was going to stop comparing myself to other Christian women. It's an issue that is more widespread than you might think, but I had a pretty severe case of it. I was never good enough - never blond enough, pretty enough, perky enough, spiritual enough, etc. I had even stopped enjoying church because I felt like I didn't measure up and that everyone could see right through me to what a fraud I was. A good friend of mine told me a long time ago that I was a frequent participant in "reverse judgment." Instead of thinking I was better than everybody else, I had decided everybody was better than me. She was right, and I thought about what she said for a long time, until I finally decided I was being ridiculous. It wasn't easy; it took a lot of effort on my part. I had to, as the Bible says, 'take every thought captive' and tear it down. I had to stop myself from thinking the things I was thinking, but the more I practiced it, the easier it became. When I went to a church greeters meeting in November and was finally able to look at the other women around me and feel like we were on an even playing field, I knew my efforts were successful.

We try so hard to be certain things, when all God really wants us to do is knock it off and let Him do His thing. We have to be willing. That's all God asked of me, and it took me this long to figure it out and open my heart. This doesn't mean I'm going to run out and put an inflatable nativity in the yard, or put 10,000 blinky lights on my deck. But I can appreciate someone else's expression of joy and not hold any judgment against it.

I've made life out to be a lot harder than it needed to be. Believe it or not, that's a really nice Christmas revelation to me. Pin It