Skip to main content

Day 17 Look Like Love

Inspiration for this post brought to you by my mom (:
I talked the other day about how I’m a 2 on the enneagram. 

2’s struggle most with pride. And I’ve realized mine has been unchecked the past few days. As a helper I want to care for people, get things done, and fix things. And in return for my oh so generous acts, I hope and expect you to care for me and my needs too. When those expectations aren’t met, cynicism can sneak into my heart and entangle itself in the truths I whisper to myself. 

I put 110% into everything I do. I strive for excellence and I do my best. I think that’s what we’re all called to— to do our best. But if we lose sight of love in the process, that’s when pride and self sufficiency become our close friends and patience and grace take a backseat. 

So how do we balance the two? Love is a true calling, and so is excellence. I know for me, I need to take a step back from myself. Pause in the moment, and ask why am I doing the work that I’m doing? Am I trying to pick up the slack of others because I’m impatient? Am I trying to prove myself? Am I in it for the title or the paycheck? Or am I here, wherever that may be, doing whatever I’m doing to my fullest ability because God has given me these strengths and has called me to use them to love the people around me? Do everything for his glory (Col. 3:17).

So I’m running from pride and towards love. Love cover a multitude of sins (1 Peter 4:8).  Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things (1 Corinthians 13:4-7). Love is patient and kind and not a lot of other things like pride. I want to look like Love.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Day 25 What Are You Carrying?

Yesterday I drove up to New Hampshire to visit Ian (my boyfriend). I got there later in the afternoon and I had spent the morning working on things at home.  About an hour after I got to NH, we went to the Fall Festival at his church across the border in Vermont. By the time we got there, it was dark already, I was pretty tired and hungry, and this event was HUGE.  Much bigger than I expected. It was really cool-- food trucks, pony rides, laser tag, trunk-or-treating, Incredibles 2 playing on the side of the church, the works. But. Of course. My anxiety decided to form a lens over my eyes.  The crowds of people around me grew louder and I felt trapped amongst the hundreds of bodies.  My heart started to beat faster with every person who walked by. I have anxiety, I've mentioned this before, and many times large crowds will bring it on. I'm sure many of you know the feeling. And it can be the worst. Here I was, looking forward to having a fun time and enjo...
Post a Comment
Read more

Dear World

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- To an utterly broken world, Why? A question so frequently asked, but is it ever truthfully answered? So many horrid, horrific, unspeakable things happen day after day. Many to innocent persons. Many overlooked. Dear world, there is one who knows your suffering. No, not simply knows, but feels it in an innermost way, understands so deeply, so intimately. In fact, he suffered every pain this world has to offer. And he still bears the scars. Consider Lazarus' death.  The biblical story that holds the shortest verse in scripture: "Jesus wept." He knows the pain. No matter how big a scar it leaves on your heart or how long it lingers within you.  He knows. He knows and he weeps with us.  He holds us close during tribulation, and he reminds us that he has overcome it all-- we do not have to be overcome by it all. When dark...
Post a Comment
Read more

Anchor

Breathe. Inhale... exhale.  I am alive. The first fragile snowflake falls in December. A field of flowers swaying in a spring breeze. A star shoots past the moon on a warm summer night. The low roll of thunder when a storm begins. A broken pot that sits on the shelf in an old potter's home. I see my Savior in all these things-- my Anchor -- but not in the broken pot. You see, the broken pot is one that simply sits on a wooden shelf.  It collects dust. It is known for its brokenness and it does not serve a purpose. It does not know why the potter keeps it.  But the potter knows. The potter has never forgotten the pot. I am the broken pot. I sit on a shelf collecting dust. I am helpless, hopeless.  I cannot serve my purpose.  Nor any purpose. But one day, the potter takes me from my shelf.  My shattered edges shift and crumble.  It hurts. The potter with gentle hands and loving fingers takes on broken piece ...
Post a Comment
Read more