When I Was Eight

Eight-year-old-expectations

When I was in grade school, there was the cutest girl my class.  And it wasn't me.  She was skinny, she was popular, she was a cool kitty.  She was everyone's friend but mine.  She had an older sister who was showing her the ropes on how to succeed in this life and be great at the same time.

Her model of success and popularity became my grade school idol.  My sister and I had weekly competitions in our bedroom with those sisters.  We raced in our little make-believe-world-of-an-eight-year-old-girl.  I imagined that I could beat them in making our beds every Saturday morning.  My sister threw their names around as a motivator to be like them or better. And to beat them at everything in life.  I wanted that really bad as an eight year old.

I somehow decided all of her coolness traced back to her hairdo. Like that was the budding fount from which the life I wanted could sprout.

Yes, her hair.  Never mind the fact that it looked perfect every time I saw her at school on her perfectly shaped body.  Or that even in our grade school track-meets her hair bounced perfectly at the nape of her neck, tied in a pretty bow, never leaving it's boundaries and never flying all up in her face as mine often does.  Never mind that.

Her hair was always glamorous  perfect, and shiny.  And mine?  Well it was thick, dark and problematic.  It was unruly at best and I had embarrassing cowlicks.  Still do.  It was straight.  And my mom decided it was my best look for an eight-year-old to wear hair the pixie cut way...for years.  And I always had bangs.  So in my mind....I resembled a boy.  I had a boy haircut most of my school days.  And hated it.  And I hated myself.  And I was fat.  I was so far behind and last in the competition to become cool, or pretty, or liked.

But never mind the over-played reality that causes me to hit repeat in my mind's recorder.  

Yes, never mind reality.  

I set my expectation on the highest bar for acceptance.  And as an 8 year old girl, who was just looking for friends and to be liked, I hung my heart on unrealistic boundaries that still haunt me today.

Oh yeah, did I mention she was waaaay smarter than I was too?

It was all lies.  I know that now.

The other day...as I often do, I thought back about my past as an 8 year old.  And I cried.  I cried over the fact that I was so lost in the land of approval.  I don't want to go back there.  God has given me new boundaries to follow.  The space between my expectations of how this once imperfect 8 year old girl is transforming into a beauty is one that God is still bridging.  My years of serious disappointment were staring me in the face as I looked over the rail of reality and saw my reflection.

"My beauty comes from within."  says God.  But God...what about?  (Fill in your own blank here).

The fact that I had a blank in this conversation brings me to the disappointment that I am not completely there and God still has some healing to do.  It's not about my bad haircuts, or my weight.  It's not about the not so perfect smooth skin on my face.  It's not about the perky smile that sometimes disappears.  It's about my heart feeling accepted and loved by a gracious God who loves me no matter what.  It's about me seeing how He sees me when I dare to look in the mirror.  It's about who He has created me to be and changing me into His likeness. It's not about how my reflection scowls back at the disappointed 8 year old who still sits freshly rejected on the school playground.  It's about knowing that I am loved by a Holy God who can handle my 8 year old disappointments.  

And it's about seeing God in what He has created.  It's about accepting myself as only He can.   It's about feeling God's approval and not the approval of others.  It's about time.

Since those grade school days, my hair has gotten better because I don't cut in a pixie style anymore.  I have lost some weight, gained and now losing it again.  My outside appearances can leave me disappointed as an 8 year old heart once held.  But those things can also be remedied.  

So I am burning this plow of disappointment, no more sowing the seeds of disapproval into my heart and focusing on God's approval and His only.  And I am dropping the expectation of my way-too-yearnings of being the prettiest or coolest kitty in town.  Literally,  I am not competing in the Ultimate Bed-Making-Race anymore.  I am God's royalty.

"You will be a crown of splendor in the Lord's hand, 

a royal diadem in the hand of your God." Isaiah 62:3

God, I am just me...who you have created.  May I see me as you see me...lovely and whole.  Pretty right down to my cowlick, creases, wrinkles, imperfections, and pesky dimples in the wrong places.  Remind me God of who I am.  May I see me as a wonderful masterpiece of your loving hand.  May I see your lovely places in me.

What eight-year-old expectations do you need to let go of?

Sorry, We're Closed

Closed

You've seen the Doritos chip commercial where a dog owner is tempting a dog with a Doritos nacho cheese chip.  The dog is salivating, he wants it real bad.  Motivated by his hunger (so we are led to believe) the dog starts running to get the chip.  There is one problem when the dog tries to retrieve the tasty chip.  Between him and his owner, there is one hurdle that stands between him and his consumption of the entire bag of chips.  It's very clear...very quickly...it's a glass patio door.  He can taste the chip from inches away but the moment he face plants into the glass door, his hunger wanes...and he lays defeated only dreaming of the dangling temptation.  The door was closed on the opportunity to munch.  

I have to wonder if Paul spent anytime laying defeated at the closed door he encountered as he preached the gospel.  

Acts 16:7 "When they came to the border of Mysia, they tried to enter Bithynia, but the Spirit of Jesus would not allow them to."

Paul encountered a ministry closed door.  I know he had great motivations and intentions, but because it was not God's plan he was not allowed to enter. Do you wonder if Paul scratched his head...asking what?  Do you think doubt crept into his calling?  Was he disappointed?

The next verse tells us that Paul just passed by the closed door and went to his next stop.  The Bible makes it sound like it was no big deal, Paul didn't pause in his gospel-spreading-mission.  Was there a message on the town gate marquee that said "Paul and company, don't stop here!  Gospel not welcomed".  

When God closes doors in my life, I ask why.  In fact, I have spiraled into great turmoil because of some closed doors.  I don't want to miss any opportunities that God presents nor be caught in disobedience in direction.  So when a closed door slams in my face, and it was one that I thought had my name on the overhead marquee, then I confess, I have had some disappointments in their closing.  

Have you ever questioned God on an unforeseen slam?

I can say by faith when a door closes—God has a better plan in the slam. In my disappointment, I shall cling to that. I understand that His ways are higher than my ways; that His timing is perfect; and that He sees the end from the beginning. And I also know there’s no door He can’t open. So if it’s closed, I must trust that there’s a divine reason . . . even if I never know why.  

With a divinely-closed door...

I will..

deepen my trust. 

demonstrate submission to His authority.

deny something I love for something I love more.

develop obedience in waiting.  

God...

discerns that I'm not ready to walk through it.  

displays a hidden purpose for His greater good.   

delays a greater later door to open.  

God's ways are higher than our ways. He does know the end from the beginning. When a door closes, it’s a mercy. Thank Him. He’s redirecting you elsewhere, and you can trust that it’s a better elsewhere.

Has God closed a door in your life lately? Have you gained any insight as to the reason? The next time my face plants into the next set of glass patio doors, I'll know that there is a higher reason as I pause and step back, licking my wounds.  There is a greater purpose and ours is not to question why.  Trust is key and I know my trusting Savior.  He has cleared my tomorrows for holy reasons all His own.  And that...my friends is reason enough for me not to look twice at His slammed plans.