No more me, please.

Thoughts in the wake of reading Oswald Chambers today...

At what point will I come to an end of myself and all of my self-sufficiency? All my promises and resolutions end in denial, because I have no power to accomplish them. I am anxious, I am gossipy, I am adrift without a direction.

If and when I give in--and re-develop a prayer life--then there will be One who directs the course of my life.

And from reading Tim Keller's The Age of Reason...

Sin separates us from the presence of God, which is the source of all joy, love, wisdom, and good things of any sort. Since we were originally created for God's immediate presence, only before his face will we thrive, flourish, and achieve our highest potential. If we were to lose his presence totally, that would be hell--the loss of our capability for giving or receiving love or joy.

I am not in hell, far from it. Keller speaks of drug or alcohol addiction, for example, as "hell writ small." Where I am is not even that. But I am experiencing a teensy bit of what self-absorption creates: bitterness, envy, anxiety, mental denials and distortions.

Things going on right now:

A week of anxiety over Isabel's and Lily's swim lessons, my plans for them gone awry. But my anxiety led to a diplomatically worded email, followed by a fraught conversation with the swim director. And I've come to an uneasy compromise--two private lessons instead, and we'll go from there, depending on how much of my money is left. Where is Jesus in this? Still with me, anyway.

Isabel scored very well--high marks, at 99%--on a standardized test meant to identity gifted students. The score enabled her to go on to further testing. At first, I was simply happy and proud. A little bit smug and self-satisfied. I have done everything I can to nurture her learning, and it was a lovely moment to see that she qualified for further testing.

Then I found out that 12 students (more than half the class, including neighborhood friends like Lucy and Emily) had qualified for further testing. The accomplishment seemed a bit diminished.

Then I found out that while some of Isabel's friends scored high enough for further testing, certain others didn't. Neither of the Hannahs, nor Lauren, either. Again, a little bit of smug self-satisfaction rose up in me.

Then I spoke to Emily's mom, who enlightened me about some cattiness going on--miffed mothers of children who didn't make the cut.

Then I felt guilty. I tried to put myself in the shoes of those mothers. And I felt compassionate. Now I want to look at it from Jesus' perspective. They are disappointed. They too give of themselves to nurture their children. I want to be a source of comfort to them.

How does this relate to the above? Lord, fill me with lasting compassion. Show me how to address the topic with moms of kids who didn't make the cut. Don't let me take my eyes off of You. Can you keep my eyes on You just for today? I don't want to be on my own. On my own, I am smug, self-assured, and totally insecure. I don't want to see any of this from my perspective. I want to see it from your perspective.