Aggressive vs. Visionary

I moved away from home, across the mountains into the high desert country. It's different here. I've plunged into a new world of strange people, places, sights, smells, sounds, and rules to follow. There were things I expected--forfeiting a full two weeks' sleep as I adjusted to the irritating whine of the refrigerator in my one-room cottage. There were things I didn't expect, namely, the intimidating clouds of green mosquito-like insects called "midgies" that not only plaster my windshield, but when congregated by the millions on buildings at night, have the eery effect of making the walls appear as if they are swaying. But these are temporal things. Refrigerators and midgies will both be consumed when the elements melt with fervent heat. As my aunt says, to console us when earthly things go awry, "It's all going to burn in the end."

Here, in this place that smells of hot sand and sagebrush, I've met new people. I'm subordinate to most of them as I start this new job on the bottom rung of the proverbial corporate ladder. But I have a secret--this is one ladder I'm not going to climb. No one here would understand, so I don't bother to explain. I smile and nod, work as hard as I know how, and I hold on to the hope set before me. To outside eyes, I am camouflaged into the fabric of all the other young white female nurses eager to start their careers in modern-day America. But strip away the veneer, and there is little common ground.

See, I've noticed there are a lot of women in the healthcare business. Nursing is a traditionally female-dominated profession, and it still is. But with the muddling of the gender-roles in contemporary society, women have galloped into the sunset, often dragging their families behind or dumping them somewhere along the highway to false success. One once told her husband when they were newly married, Just so you know, I love you and all that, but you don't complete me. I would be fine without you. You're welcome to join my life, and it sure would be better to have you along, but this is my show. To her credit, they've made it work for several decades, so apparently they came to an agreement. But I still can't imagine ever telling my husband that he's welcome to hop in the saddle behind me, as long as I get to hold the reigns.

So many women around me are chasing dreams that are illusion. Hailed as innovative and visionary, yet my spirit intuits aggression from them. Women whose reputations precede them as shrewd, wise, and tempered prove to be a disappointment when their true character comes out as unmistakably self-centered. They think they've juggled the traditional roles of mother-and-homemaker with their career success.They think their children are successful for winning scholarships, graduating with honors, and making buku bucks in their own careers. Blind to the truth of their failure, they cannot see the cesspool of materialism and self-interest that engulfs their lives, nor the great void left by an unfulfilled true purpose.

So what is the answer? Is there truly no place for strong-willed, visionary women? Must they stuff their giftedness and vent their frustration in vigorous housecleaning? Of course not. The Creator would not design something that is intrinsically useless, nor something that must be broken in order to be properly useful. All of His created order is crafted with precision and intentional purpose. Strong-minded women have a place in the kingdom. I have to admit, I write this from the perspective of a woman who is not strong. Staunch in convictions, yes, but more apt to drift away from a fight and find the path of lesser resistance. I hate confrontation. Instead of taking this bull by the horns and seeking to reform the minds of women in my workplace, my default is to hunker down, keep a low profile, and make it work. I'm good at making things work, and this is not always good. As such, it is with both admiration and dread that I identify a strong woman. I'm always wondering, Which kind of Type A are you?

But God doesn't possess my faults. He is not intimidated by gung-ho gals. He made them such. What He asks from them is what He asks from each of us: To turn from our self-love, to receive of His grace, and to pursue holiness with singular devotion. It must be willing submission and obedience to Him; He does the rest. The infinite variables of each equation are all factored in perfectly, and He is able to masterfully engineer a unique being who is tempered, strong, pure, happy and blessed in her individualized strengths. I can't explain how He does it, time after time, woman after woman, but He does. He takes these selfish hearts, runs them through the fire, purifies them, and tunes them to His Spirit. There is no other way. All self-improvement journeys fade out and dead-end at some point, but the road that is narrow winds ever upward, ending at the gates of the celestial city where all visions, inspirations, and dreams find their culmination.

Living in Limbo

I had to stay home last weekend while my family went to a conference about homeschooling and family discipleship. I wanted to go, but alas, a major, 160 question, nerve-wracking exit nursing examination was scheduled smack in the middle of it, so I couldn't go. They came home on Sunday, beaming. Inspired. Renewed. Excited. And with bag-fulls of new books and audio lectures.

They came home filled with hope to see that there are still people left in the world who love the LORD their God with all of their hearts, souls, and minds, and teach their children to love His law as well. It was good that they went.

I, however, have been in a bit of a rut. Perhaps "stalemate" would be a better word. Not afraid, not discouraged, not frustrated--I can't pinpoint it. Worn out? Burned out? Wishing the future would hurry up and pan out so I could see how things will settle? Needing more sleep? Or, all of the above.

I want to plant a garden. But, should I bother if I won't be here to tend it? The two sheep need to be sheared. Where will I store the wool if this isn't the year I can learn to spin? I have too many horses. Which ones should I sell before I move in a mere ten weeks? Who will want them anyway? When will I find time to trim the goats' hooves? And, the "check engine" light came on in my car and it started rattling. And, we have to squeeze in a post-graduation barbecue somewhere in the 24 hours before two of our guys head to Alaska for a commercial fishing season. So much to do. Plans are a-whirling. Everything's jumbled up.

In the midst of the hum, I hear, "Be still." And know that I am God.

Yes, yes. I will. I have forgotten to be still. I have forgotten to cultivate contented joy with the flurry of each day, learning to live in this limbo land of not-quite-jelled plans. They will become clear in time, in His time, when it is right to reveal them to me. It is hard to be still when pulled in a thousand directions, hard to dim the buzzing world out and think about Him. Talk to Him. Ponder what He says. Tune for His pull on the heart.

And be still.