Five Things: To-Don't List

In an effort to post more often (you know, like more than twice a year), I’ve decided to experiment with some shorter posts now and then. So...drum roll please...I’m am pleased to present a new recurring feature on Fearlessly Following the Father called "Five Things."

I love lists, and I have them posted everywhere. At this moment, I can reach out and touch six unique, handwritten lists, and that doesn’t begin to cover the ones in Google drive, on my phone, on my many calendars, and scribbles on the scraps of paper littering my handbag and car. Errand lists, shopping lists, project lists, prayer lists, goals, plans--a perpetual collection of visual reminders to help me plan and motivate me to get things done.

A huge part of that motivation lies in the giddy satisfaction of drawing a line through completed items. Of course, I don’t make the lists just for the little boost I get from documenting my productivity in black and white (actually, I pretty much only use blue pens and a lot of pastel paper, but whatever). Still, by nature, I tend to gravitate toward things I can do.

The only problem is, there are also things I need to not do, but there’s no tangible reinforcement for not doing something. Immersing myself in my to-do lists may result in productivity, but when I fail to address the bad habits that cause me to stumble, I neglect what should be the driving force behind all my lists and plans: becoming the woman I am in Christ.

Of course, I can never become that woman in my own strength, but I can make a conscious effort to identify and surrender behaviors that are inconsistent with who I am and whose I am (1 Peter 2:9, 1 John 3:1). I've stalled a bit in finishing this post, but the more I've thought about my list over the last few weeks, the more I've caught myself doing most of the things on it at least once a day. If the process of developing the list has made me uncomfortably aware of things I need to let go, then I want to be brave enough to write them down so they can be dealt with. (And yes, this list could definitely be more than five items long, but this is supposed to be a short post).

Tamra’s To-Don’t List

1. compare myself to others in an effort to make me feel good about myself (1 Corinthians 10:12)
2. compare myself to others in an effort to make me feel awful about myself (1 Timothy 6:6)
3. dismiss or excuse my unkindness or impatience on the basis of my mood or circumstances (2 Peter 1:5-9)
4. trust how I feel over what I know (Philippians 4:4-7)
5. shrink back from ministering to others just because I feel awkward or don’t know what to say (Philippians 2:3-4)

I doubt I’ll ever get the thrill of drawing a line through any of these items, but this isn’t about accomplishment. Instead, it’s a reminder to fearlessly face my flaws in light of what Christ has already accomplished (Romans 6:18), and choose instead to follow after the Father as He works out His plan for me (Philippians 1:6).

What's on your "To-Don't" List?

"You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by deceitful desires; to be made new in the attitude of your minds; and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness." -Ephesians 4:22-24

Lenten Lessons Learned

I'm kind of embarrassed to admit this, but I never really "got" Lent. I know there are a lot of variations in the way it is observed, and this little post is in no way meant to be a commentary on what you do or don't do during Lent. Mostly, I think it will illustrate how badly I've missed the point all these years, but I figure I can't be the only one who appreciates a good "a-ha!" moment.

I have never given up anything for Lent, and I have traditionally exempted myself on the basis of one or both of these arguments: 1) it seems legalistic, 2) somehow, giving up Pinterest or chocolate or some other inconsequential thing for a few weeks seems like a terribly inadequate gesture in light of what Christ did for me. (Note that I didn't say they were good arguments).

And so it was sheer coincidence that I happened to swear off my favorite snack shortly before Lent this year.

Who's Afraid of the Big, Bad Wolf?

We stood at the lemonade stand just outside the queue, watching as the empty coaster whizzed, looped, and plunged its way through the morning test run. My young niece and nephew were giddy with anticipation and ready to bolt to the entrance as soon as the ride opened. To a seasoned coaster aficionado like myself, The Big, Bad Wolf was only moderately thrilling, but for the 8-and-under set, it was a howling beast of high-flying excitement…or white-knuckled terror.

For my seven-year-old son, it was the latter, but I shrugged it off. He didn't share his cousins' enthusiasm for thrill rides, so he wasn't going to ride. End of story…or so I thought. My mom, who had been watching Zack eye the coaster, had detected something in his demeanor that I had missed. When she whispered to me that she was certain he was longing to ride, but was losing a battle with fear, I wasn't so sure. But Nana had a pretty good track record, so I pulled him aside to ask him myself.

As I talked with my son, the struggle within him was apparent. He desperately wanted to join in the fun and venture into uncharted "big kid" territory, but the path was guarded by a big, bad wolf. He sensed the potential for a "safe" adventure, but at the tender age of seven, he faltered in the face of this screaming steel behemoth.

Nothing More Than Feelings

For the better part of a week, I was convinced my car was done for. Whenever I hit the brakes, it made a weird sound and jiggled a little. Actually, now that I think of it, it started doing that the week before. I vaguely remember my husband saying something about some maintenance needing done and that he would have it taken care of soon. Anyway, the jiggling and noise bugged me, and the rest of the time, the car just felt…odd. 

Each time I got behind the wheel, I could feel the anxiety creep up my spine like a spider. I drove to and from work each day, dreading each stoplight, cursing the stop and go traffic on the interstate, and praying my faithful car would hold itself together, at least until we got home. The weird thing was, the more anxious I got, the stranger the car felt. Day by day, the tension rose as I began to imagine all sorts of unpleasant situations. 

God's Workmanship, Not Mine

I was having a bad day, though at the moment, I can't remember why. Most likely, I had worked myself into a funk over little things. It may have been a bad hair day, or maybe I felt I'd made more than my share of mistakes. I could have been embarrassed about something stupid I said or some public gaffe, or maybe I  was feeling left out or overlooked or frumpy. It was likely a combination of several things, but the common thread in these "bad day" triggers is a failure to live up to my expectations. Once I give in to the nagging feeling that I don't measure up, a dark cloud gathers around me, and all looks grey.   

And it was under one of those dark clouds that I found myself reverting to a bad habit. As I let my mind wander at the end of this bad day, I started thinking about my resume, the cool projects I had worked on and the volunteer work I had done. I recalled treasured compliments and lingered over a mental list of achievements. I'm not talking about huge, earth shattering accomplishments, but merely things I could look back on and say, "I did a good job."  

I was feeling like a loser, and so I was seeking solace in past successes. That is, until I realized what I was doing and gasped out loud.