EMO for Jesus

So I’ve recently discovered I’m a bit of an emotional handful. How’d I come to that conclusion you ask? Hmmmm. Well let’s see. There was a lot of crying, some whimpering and I vaguely remember being curled up in a fetal position and my kids asking Dad if Mommy was going to be okay. 

I’m not talking about the kind of emotional that everyone experiences, you know, the tearing up at a Folgers’s commercial from time to time. I’m talking about a gut wrenching, incapacitating, messy kind of emotion where there is some borderline irrational craziness happening. 

I know there is a whole group of you reading this now that know me and would like to talk me out of this assessment of myself. And then there are the few, the proud and the brave who have seen me at the brink and they are saying “Geesh! You are JUST NOW realizing this? What took you so long?”  

My relationship with my feelings has been a touchy one and here is why. 

They have lied to me. On more than one occasion. 

And once you’ve been deceived, trust is just hard to come by. And also, the weight of emotions—the sadness, the grief and sorrow—seems wrong because they can be so heavy. So controlling. So bossy. That something must be wrong with me because I feel so fragile, easily broken by the sorrowful things in my world. 

So I’ve tried toughening up. I’ve man handled my feelings to attempt to create the feelings I want instead of the feelings I’m having-- all in the name of holy living. A practice I now acknowledge as holy stuffing. Somewhere along the line I’ve believed that airing your feelings isn’t right or good or holy. So I just swallow it. There are pros and cons to this habit of mine, but topping the cons list is the eventual end of my holy stuffing results in something resembling a volcanic eruption spewing hot, deathly lava on anyone who happens to be in my path when I finally encounter that last straw. And can I just say right here that blowing your top is not very holy? Not holy at all. 

My wrestling with all of this, of course, desperately drives me to the One who promises me wisdom if I just ask. So I take Him up on it.  In my estimation, I come to Him with a pretty funny question.

Why am I so emotional? Is it part of the curse of sin? I know emotions are good, but why do they feel so bad sometimes? Most of the time? I mean was Eve crazy emotional? 

I laugh a little as I write that last part, but honestly, this is where my nutty EMO self has landed me and I needed some answers and some “how to”--and fast.  I open up my Bible and I read this descriptor of Jesus,

  “He is despised and rejected by men, A Man of sorrows and acquainted with grief” Isaiah 53:3 

And right at that moment, I sense the whisper of God saying 

I’m emotional too. Your emotions are of me. Their control of you is not of me. And there’s your trouble.

I go on to read Isaiah 53 foretelling how Jesus would feel grief and sadness and sorrow. How He would suffer and die for the sins of the world, so we could be reconciled to God all the while feeling every emotion possible and yet not sinning. Not only did He not sin, He carried the sin of the world. My sin. Talk about weight.  

I think of how many times I’ve allowed my emotions to rule my thoughts, justify my wrong behavior, excuse myself from doing the right thing, side track and side line me from life because I just couldn’t possibly handle it. 

And herein lies my example for being rightly related to my emotions: Jesus felt it all, but it did not govern Him. God the Father alone governed his heart and life. His emotions did not rule Him, but rather they fueled Him to seek the face and strength of His Father to accomplish His purpose on the earth.

And so the question I’m left with is “Who governs this heart? Who is in charge here?” 

Hands down, I know the answer to this question in the big picture of my life.  What I’m realizing though is it’s my answer in the dark of the night, when chaos abounds and temptation is knocking and my emotions are all running amuck that matters. 

My questions then turn to prayers, to pleadings for God to be the gatekeeper of my heart.  I ask Him to teach me to bring my emotions to Him, to help me to sift, sort, think and evaluate based on what is true and right. To counsel this stubborn and fickle heart about building my house on the rock rather than the shifting sand of my ever changing emotions. To learn to stay in the posture of waiting on God until my emotions are saturated with grace and truth. I’m learning to abide in His presence until my emotions no longer rule, but rather fuel my steps to go to deeper places with Jesus. My emotions are becoming indicators, warning lights to check into what’s really going on under the hood, not impulses to be obeyed. A “Service heart soon” light that blinks continuously reminding me I need God’s presence to sort this out before I go any further down the road. 

After my Holy Spirit counseling session and we’ve debrief all my willy nilly emotions, issues and faulty thinking and God has purified, sanctified and righted all my off base conclusions, then I can receive my marching orders.  Actions that are steeped in God’s wisdom not my emotions. A life that is effective, purposeful and powerful where my emotions are utilized for God’s grand purposes not my futile excuses. 

All of this has led to a fresh new season both in my relationship with God and my emotions as I’m exchanging emotional rule for fuel. I’m trading in my label of “Emotional handful” for “EMO for Jesus".  

And let me tell you something: It feels good.

Tone Down Your Awesomeness

So I’m realizing I’ve made a lot of moves in my lifetime. Like since my husband and I married we have moved eleven times. I’m sure those military wives out there have me beat by a long shot. But for little old me, when I’m sitting around being all nostalgic, it’s a large number. Gobs of places and faces and friendships. And a lot of possible friendships that just never got off the ground. Sometimes you can identify why, but most the time you can’t put your finger on it and you move on. 

I think friendship comes in many shapes and sizes and you can’t always figure out why it’s magically delicious with one person and feels like you are getting a continual root canal with another. In my mucho relocation and innumerable attempts to forge new friendships in new towns, I have seen a common principle at work. 

We women are always sizing one another up.

Judging. Comparing.  And then drawing conclusions about ourselves as a result. 

You go to someone’s home that resembles a Pottery Barn catalog and have just the most amazing time hearing all about her wonderful home schooling, her latest adventures in cooking gourmet PALEO meals and how she manages her wildly successful Etsy business crafting furniture out of reclaimed barn wood in her spare time. And by the way, she is training for the Iron Man while raising money to fund her very own after school program in the inner city. It’s not 30 seconds out the door and my head is swimming in crazy thoughts usually preceded with “Well she is just awesome!” and then followed up with a quick “and she is never coming to my house.”

I hate that these are my first thoughts. And I hate that I’m always comparing. My very wise sister in law once told me “Compare Despair.”  I’m not comparing 10 seconds before my heart is on the fast track to despair. About my house, my disorganization, my dysfunction and my full onself.  I can’t stand the fact that I’ve already closed my heart to the possibility of true friendship with this woman because I’ve drawn the conclusion that I’m not good enough for her. That I could never let her in. I’m comparing the entirety of all the crazy I know about my life and self to the wondrous sliver she chosen to reveal to me about hers.

Now, here’s the deal. I know I have been the woman on the other side plenty a time. I’m sure that I have portrayed myself at one time or other to be a fabulous specimen of a woman with all the answers, the best recipes and the keys to the kingdom. Blah, blah, blah. I’ve cleaned my house—ALL DAY—when we have guests coming because I want them to think my house is always this clean. 

It’s natural to want to admired and esteemed. Bottom line, I want people to think I’m awesome. 

And this, I’m learning, has gotten in the way of what I really need.  

I think I want people to think I’m perfect, but what I really need is to be loved when I am anything but perfect.

God has a special knack of refining what it is you want. Yes I want people to think I’m amazing. Kind of like a 2 year old wants the room to all focus on him. But God loves me too much to leave me here, tottling around demanding, “Look at me! Ain’t I something?” 

He reminds me it’s time to grow up. Mature. Change. He whispers to me that though I want esteem and approval from others, I want other things more.  More important things. Things like real, honest, vulnerable friendships. Things like the focus being on Him instead of me. His glory instead of mine. He is showing me I want His power residing over my relationships, not my perfection. True sharing, not comparing. Definitely not despairing.

It pains me now to think of someone walking away from time with me drawing wrong conclusions about themselves, just like I’ve done a million times leaving that perfect house that, of course, has their secret issues that I will never know about. And so my question for God is how do I prevent that? How do I stop the vicious cycle in my heart and the hearts of the women I encounter? 

The answer whispered to my heart is from 2 Corinthians 12 about Paul boasting in his weaknesses. He talks about in verse 9 how Jesus said to him, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.” And then Paul goes on to say, “I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore, I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in needs, in persecutions, in distresses, for Christ’s sake. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” (2 Corinthians 12: 9-10)

In this chapter I see a man wrestling with allowing others to draw their own conclusions based on what they see of his life, but then needing to say in a sense, “hey, you need to know the truth. I will only boast about my weaknesses, downsides, faults and shortcomings.  Let me tell you all about these things and how God is working in spite of and through them. That way, when good comes out of my life, it’s all because of Jesus.”

I think of Paul. Pastor. Speaker. Author of most of the New Testament. And I think of him making the choice to boast only in his shortcomings. His weaknesses. It makes me think how selective I am about whom I am honest with about my weaknesses. The things I’m trying to hide, compensate for and hope people never uncover. But here He is boasting ONLY in these things. Talk about bringing the honesty. And the intimacy. He is so confident that Christ is going to use these things to speak to people. That these things are going to unlock Christ’s power to work in and through him. That his life is going to speak for itself.

In light of these things, I’m learning to open the door and say “hello and welcome. Sorry the house is a mess but I figure we are going to be great friends and you might as well know the truth now.”

I’m also learning to bring the vulnerability and honesty with me everywhere I go. Sometimes it doesn’t show up until it is my mouth opening it into the room and then—BAM! The conversation can go to new places of honesty all because I spoke first about my weakness, struggles or shortcomings. Comparing and despairing is replaced with sharing, surrender and the power of Christ unlocked to do His work.

And one last thing, I’m learning to tone down my awesomeness—or at least my drive for you to think I’m awesome. I ain’t gonna lie, if I know you are coming over I will be cleaning the toilets and removing the laundry from the couch. However, I’m going to stop believing the lie that perfection is what you are looking for and what I am hoping you will find. I’m going to be me, which has some awesomeness in there somewhere, but I’m going to be quick to share about my struggles, insecurities, and weaknesses in the hopes that Christ’s power in my life will be evident and maybe that will encourage you to tone down your awesomeness too and our new found friendship will be on the fast track to real, honest and amazing.

Now that’s just awesome.