I'm on a tiny journey. I'm not even sure how I got here. It's been a process over the last 6 months or so but becoming more readily apparent in the last few weeks. It's a movement of an enormous life becoming less enormous. I'm pulled here, I am pulled there, constantly filling my schedule with this, with that, buying one more table to fill that tiny hallway space, hodge-podging life, its circumstances, its possessions, to make it "more" than it was 3 minutes before. Unfortunately, more has made me feel like so much less. I feel weighted, dragging, bogged down with the ins and out of this enormous life. I've made it to my worldly goal, but in that accomplishment, I find little rest. Instead, I am seeking yet another goal after goal after goal to stay ahead of the time tables. As I watch everything grow, I'm being squashed out of what I was intended to be.
So if growing this enormous life is making me feel so tiny, could the opposite be true? What if I could make life so tiny that in fact it began to feel enormous, but in an entirely different way - full of purpose and content? I don't know if this mastectomy played role in that. I'd have to say it did, as every life shaking experience brings an inward evaluation. It propels you closer to the clarity of a God focused lens and away from the fogged up spectacle of humanity that we so easily embrace. So yes, maybe in some ways, Ron and I leapfrogging through mastectomy, the death of a parent, job transitions, and such all piled up into a 2 year span became a springboard for this process of re-evaluation of what this enormous life really meant to me. And realizing that focusing on becoming smaller could in fact merge me into something better - a whole different kind of enormous. In that smallness maybe we could find depth.
As Ron and I started feeling this stir, we had no idea exactly where it would go. In fact, we still don't know. But we are finding that the life we spent the last 6+ years nurturing and fabrication together piece by piece is filled with things of the here and now. The stuff. The gunk. The life-fillers that bring me closer to someone else's dream and less to that of what we think God placed us here for. As we spent our time making life bigger, we found we were missing our intended mark of making life smaller. More purposeful. More focused. More you focused. Less me focused. Less driven by someone else's standards of life. And there we sat, supposedly happy as a lark, in the defines of the Johnny Joe's standards. Three bedrooms two baths - check. Two cars - checks. Eight winter coats - check. Six pairs of jeans - check. More money coming in than going out - check. Job advances- check. But "happy" was becoming more transparent and that transparency brought about a reality. Was this what life was intended to be? Did this checklist of someone else's goals create in us a joyful and purposed reality? Was I more of a person today because of that newly acquired bracelet? Did my heart for other people grow when I added one more calendar event to my schedule?
We feel our hearts shifting to something smaller. I want to be in a place where there is more of me to give. Less of me to take. Though I don't yet exactly know what that is going to look like. I begin by standing here in the center of my closet with my 15 long sleeve t-shirts. And my 8 pairs of flip flops. And my 12 skirts (all the numbers being reasonable estimates). And as I struggle to purge down to 5 sweaters, I become acutely aware of my shallow heart when I can't bear to part with something I wore only twice last year. And if my heart couldn't part with a poly-blend sweater, how in the world could my heart part with anything else in a quest to make my life fuller? That closet, with the sizes too small or too large that I hope (or don't hope) to one day return to could instead be a new outfit for that single mother of 6 looking for a job with nothing to wear to the interview. As I sit frustrated in my closet day after day trying to find something among the 100 items to wear, there she sits trying to find anything that she could get her hands on without taking food off her table. And that drawer full of blankets, did I need 5 just in case North Carolina becomes a frozen tundra in year 2235, while she would be grateful for just one blanket so they all could sleep in their own bed? My "just in case" was a reflection of my stingy heart, while her "wish for" was a stark reality of how selfish I could be.
With that realization (and many others over the past so many weeks) came the motivation to purge, and as I watched my material possessions becoming smaller after this prodding of my heart, in great proportion my inner peace was growing larger. It all started with the closet, and I am eager to see where it goes next as I evaluate where my heart is for all matters of life. My schedule - being selective and purposeful with what and who gets to fill a time slot. My relationships - adding more people that fill me with wisdom and peace so that I may focus on giving that in return to those seeking the same. My home - making it a place that is safe so that people want to visit and that they may leave feeling full. My job - bleeding optimism and encouragement instead of pulling coworkers down into my negativity. My health - becoming a better me so that God may use me wherever he needs a vessel. My perspective - this world isn't about becoming great, but becoming small so there is less of me and more of you. And in that I hope you find there will be more of me to love and more love for me to give in return. I share this not as a testament of "look at me", but as a reflection of where I want to go and the prayer request to help get me there. May he finish the task he has started in me, and may I not be so stupid as to get in the way.
I'm giving thanks for moments like mastectomy where focus can be better tuned and a tiny life more enormous.
Click www.tradinginthetatas.blogspot.com to access other posts.
