Rhythms of Growth. Linda Douty. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Linda Douty
Издательство: Ingram
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Жанр произведения: Религия: прочее
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9780835813532
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means daring to be your true self—not being less than you are capable of being or pretending to be more. Strength comes in congruence and freedom comes in authenticity, but both are part of a risky business.

      As we become more comfortable in our own skin, we gain the courage to say what we mean and mean what we say. In doing so, we risk the reactions of those around us whose love and approval we so desperately seek. Prior to this helpful risk taking, most of us fell into the habit of parsing our words to elicit the best response. To put it bluntly, we tried to manipulate people’s feelings toward us.

      Rather than using our honesty as a hammer to pound others with our opinions, we can learn appropriate ways to remain true to our values while not leaving ambiguous impressions of who we are and what we think. After all, tact is the intelligence of the heart. As the writer of Ecclesiastes cautions, there is “a time to keep silence, and a time to speak” (3:7). However, sitting on feelings that demand expression can drive them down an emotional rabbit hole, and they often fester into resentment and buried anger—all because we didn’t risk speaking authentically.

      Yes, getting unstuck requires steadfast loyalty to the true self, guided by God.

      Reflect: Notice your communications today. Are they clear and congruent with how you truly feel? Pray that God will teach you the value of honesty in all you say and do so that you can be free of unhealthy mixed messages.

      JANUARY 11 • Stepping Off the Treadmill

      The feeling of mindlessly spinning in circles or running in place is common to all of us. The mundane tasks of living—showering, dressing, driving to work, preparing meals, changing the diapers—seem to drain the hours from the day, as if we are running as fast as we can while getting nowhere. In truth, it’s easier to complain about this treadmill than it is to actually break the cycle of running in place.

      Dislodging the patterns of “same old, same old” can require some creativity in reframing simple tasks, which enables us to spark new life into a humdrum day:

      • Take a different route to work.

      • Plan a week’s meals at one sitting.

      • Introduce a new spiritual discipline into your devotional routine.

      • Dress in clothes you haven’t worn for a while.

      • Get dishes and place mats out of storage and use them.

      • Eat dinner on a card table in front of the fire.

      • Play soft music instead of using the TV as background noise.

      • Promote a positive attitude among family members by asking, “What was the best thing that happened to you today?”

      A powerful shift in perception can occur by doing an ordinary thing with extraordinary mindfulness. Pay your bills with sincere gratitude for the services rendered; set the table while saying a prayer for the person who will occupy that place; as you wash your face, be cleansed of falseness and vanity.

      In other words, allow commonplace happenings to bless you with uncommon meaning. Daily life is more about loving what you have to do than doing what you love to do. It’s more about wanting what you have than having what you want.

      Reflect: Be attentive today to the small things, taking nothing for granted—the smile of a loved one, your dog’s wagging tail, the sun on your face, your own breath. Breathe a silent thank-you for simple joys.

      JANUARY 12 • A Clean Slate

      Something about a new calendar book brimming with clean blank pages excites me. Or in this digital age, perhaps a smartphone date book with no entries brings joy. Either way, we choose how we will fill the blanks. The new year affords us an opportune time to take responsibility for ourselves. After all, it’s our voice that says yes and our hand that writes on the calendar. The new year becomes a good time to quit agreeing to a flurry of activities and then blaming others for putting too much on us. We can take time for deliberate consideration of what brings life to us and others.

      First off, we need to fire the interior “drill sergeant” who pushes us around—the one who barks, “You ought to, you need to, you should, you must.” We often project that bossiness onto God by assuming the Almighty’s displeasure with our errant behavior and our need to “straighten up.” But our own inner sergeant, not the loving source of life, motivates us through guilt.

      How different it feels inside when we can say, “I choose to, I want to, I will!” instead of “I’ve got to, they need me to, God requires me to.” When we change from the inside out, we can make difficult, sacrificial choices from a loving heart rather than from a grudging obedience. This freedom may seem to run counter to the religious mandate that most of us grew up with: the virtue of obedience. This “virtue,” as we have mistakenly defined it through the years, maintains an aura of coercion—doing things because others expect it. My experience has been that the Spirit invites, not coerces. God’s guidance comes as invitation not condemnation.

      So in these reflective winter moments, consider moving from duty to devotion. We usually do our duty with gritted teeth, but we can choose freely with a smile.

      Reflect: Monitor your thoughts and words today, noticing each time you say “ought” and “should.” Instead, try saying “I choose,” so you can claim responsibility for what you say and do.

      JANUARY 13 • Parable of the Rocks

      A professor stood before his time-management class with an object lesson. He picked up a gallon-sized jar and began to fill it with fist-sized rocks, then asked the class members, “Is this jar full?” They all answered yes. Then he reached for a bucket of gravel and poured it into the jar, allowing the smaller rocks to settle around the larger ones. Again he asked, “Is the jar full?” And again they replied with a resounding yes. He then produced a container of sand, which he added to the jar. It filled in the empty spaces. Again the same question, “Is it full?” This time, only a few participants said yes. Finally he brought in a pitcher of water, which indeed did fill the jar to the brim. His demonstration completed, he asked his class, “Now what is the moral of this lesson?” A clever student immediately raised his hand and proclaimed proudly, “The point of your illustration is that no matter how much you have to do, you can always fit something else in!”

      “No,” replied the professor. “The moral of the lesson is that if you don’t put your big rocks in first, you’ll never get them in at all.”

      In deciding what our “big rocks” are, we’re likely to let some lesser things go, at least for a while. Of course, our priorities constantly change as our lives evolve. Tasks like child care, tending a sick family member, starting a new business, completing an important project, convalescing from an illness can occupy prime space in our lives until the need for them disappears. However, if we prayerfully keep our deepest values in view, we are more apt to parcel out our time and energy prudently.

      Reflect: What “big rocks” fill your life right now? What activities and tasks can only you do? Which items can you delegate or postpone? Allow the Spirit to reveal what is truly important at this particular time.

      JANUARY 14 • The Stuffed Schedule

      I bumped into a friend in the grocery aisle recently. After the customary hellos and how are yous, she swiped a wisp of hair from her eyes and sighed with exasperation, “I’ve just been soooo busy!” Then I heard myself saying the same words. It’s a recurrent refrain. We rush past the abundant life and jeopardize our own souls when we live such hurried and harried lives.

      This flustered attitude is an equal opportunity employer that rules people, regardless of race, creed, or gender. From doctors to doorkeepers, life piles endlessly upon itself until the beautiful experience of being alive melts into one enormous obligation, leaving us exhausted and stripped of joy.

      Once in a while we acknowledge the unpleasant truth: Our busyness holds a hidden psychological payoff. Our culture rewards busyness, but another underlying motivation bears scrutiny. We proclaim our “busyness” to one another with some hidden degree of pride; we claim our exhaustion