Measurements

I have not made it a big secret in this space that there was a time that I struggled big time with certain measurements.  Measurements of my weight, my waist, my IQ, talents and athletic abilities.  Measurements that brought about the approval of strangers, of fashion, of teachers and coaches and, most unhealthily, of my myself.  I felt for so long like I needed to be perfectly within very stringent measurements in all aspects of my life in order to love myself, to be worthwhile.

 

The other day I was thinking back on this time in my life, beaming with some pride that thankfully I’m over that.  I don’t eat and exercise to fit within a certain clothing size, but rather to be healthy for my family.  I don’t study and write and panic over grades anymore, but work to gain knowledge because it’s something I love to do.  I don’t push myself in unhealthy ways physically to try to be the best athlete, but I work to be strong to carry out the journey that God has placed before me.

 

Pride is such a silly and fickle thing.  That pride that I felt in myself was quickly squashed by more thoughts of self-doubt.  Am I a good enough mom?  Am I a good enough wife?  Am I a good enough blogger?  Am I bringing in enough money?  Do I have a cute wardrobe, a big house, well-behaved dogs, a passport full of stamps?

 

But what about this:  am I measuring up in my faith in Christ alone, where my hope is professed to be found?  I want the measure of my belief to not be found in my deceitful and fickle tongue, but rather in the kind of life I live.  And then I am forced to ask myself this:

 

WHAT MEASUREMENT IS MY LIFE SHOWING?  IS IT LONG AND WIDE AND DEEP AS DEFINED BY THE LOVE AND THE POWER OF JESUS CHRIST?  OR IS IT A SHALLOW BASIN WHICH IS DEFINED ONLY BY MY OWN MOMENTARY COMFORT?

 

I look at those questions and then I look at the measurements and the yardsticks by which I have defined the success and “good” in my life, and it blows those measurements out of the water.  I am forced to look at my life, which is defined so often by seasons of emotion rather than by the love and life of Jesus.  I want this small life that I lead to be something that does big things in the kingdom of heaven and isn’t solely focused on making much of Heather.  I want this life that I lead to be measured by faith in God’s plan and not by the milestones that Heather thinks should happen.

 

Y’all?  I don’t know how this is going to happen.  I have no idea what the next moment holds.  I don’t know if I’ll see tomorrow.  But I do know that realizing again and again that God and loving others well through Him is the thing that brings life to this life.  So I’ll live in that, hopeful and faithful in the One who died for me, and know that the doors that will open to do the things that really matter as He sees fit.  I am so thankful that it’s not up to me!