Blog Archives
Marriage Numbers
26 years ago today, I married my husband. When you try to summarize that many years, sometimes you have to focus on the facts alone to give the years some perspective and depth. So, here are the facts of my 26 years of shared life with Frankie Rodriquez, as best as I can account for them.
- 37 surviving coffee mugs, memorializing something
- 23 photo albums, before we went digital
- 20+ different dogs, cats, snakes, hamsters, birds, and fish
- 19 different jobs, some of them simultaneously
- 14 different cars in shades of red, beige, blue, gray, green, black, white, and silver
- 11 homes in 8 cities
- 7 pregnancies, 2 miscarriages, and 1 child’s funeral to precede our own – resulting in 4 children together and 1 other in whose life I am privileged to be included
- 5 washer/dryer sets
- 4 parents who rejected our marriage in the beginning and said it would never last
- 4 parents who came to love one of us after all
- 3 hammers, 2 ladders, and 1 toolkit
- 2 vacations we’ve taken alone (other than a few weekend getaways)
- 2 sets of silverware
- 2 coffee tables
- 1 decision – to love one another, no matter what, and even if everyone else abandoned us
- 1 God who saw us through it all, even when we didn’t see Him.
Perspective is a funny thing, and facts don’t tell the whole story. Clearly, there’s a lot missing from the years if we only look at the facts, but some things are certain. If you think you’ve “made it,” you’re wrong, and if you think you can ever coast through a marriage, you’re wrong. Once married, change begins. In between the facts, there’s a lot of work and effort, a lot of change and adapting, some tears, some silly moments, laughter and pain, quite a few difficult experiences, and plenty of opportunities to choose zero – the number of new chances you’ll give.
The place where you start and the place where you end will most assuredly be different. Choose “your 1’s” well. The 1 you will focus on, the 1 thing that unites you in marriage, and the 1 thing you know to be true.
…Frankie, I love you more now than when we married, and like that sunny afternoon before the wedding, when we sat down with two letters from families who could not love us at that point, I am decided to love you for the rest of my life. Unlike that day though, I understand the implications of that decision, and I joyfully give thanks to God for the honor of making that decision again. By the grace of God, and through the One that He is, you are my 1.
Media Making Connections
This is a bit of a “Part 2” to my last blog, but I wanted to fill in some of the gaps that I’ve been asked about…
I’ve taken about a month or so off from some of my usual work (and online activity) to create my new business, Polka Dot Impressions. I’ll tell you more about that in a minute. But let me answer a few questions that you might be asking if you’ve paid any attention to my previous postings or writings…
1. Yes, I am still homeschooling. I did not leave the world of education, however I’ve moved from being solely focused on homeschooling now that my children are getting older, and I’ve moved into an additional arena – one where I’ve actually been working for about two years now through the education field.
2. Yes, I am still writing. When I Die, my first book, is doing well, and I still love to talk about it. I hope to announce a radio interview I’ll be doing soon to talk about the book, so more to come on that later. And, I’m also writing a Bible study “Reflection Journal” to accompany When I Die. We’re doing a live version and a Facebook version as a “beta-test” this summer. Feel free to look over the Facebook info – http://www.facebook.com/WhenIDie.book - and yes, I am already working on the notes to my next book…
3. Yes, my new business is about marketing, taking me back to my roots where I began working right after college in radio and television. What I’ve learned along the way though, is that media changes and how we use it changes. But what it does for you, as a business or an individual, doesn’t change. The written word, shared through any number of media channels, can help you or hurt you. It can promote or tear down. It can support who you are and reinforce what you “stand for,” or it can be your most difficult obstacle in getting noticed or taken seriously for the same things. That’s one of the reasons that I started my new business, Polka Dot Impressions.
You can check it out on the website, http://polkadotimpressions.com, but I think you’ll see that it involves all of the things I’ve been doing over the course of my life as a wife, a mother, a homeschooler, a woman’s pastor, a speaker, a blogger, a personal and professional user of social media, etc. Polka Dot Impressions connects my personal “dots” and forms the umbrella of all that I stand for, whether I’m trying to be a person of faith and integrity, teaching oth
ers, helping others to succeed, writing about truth, developing systems that work efficiently, being intentional and strategic…It allows me to do all of the things that I love to do, and I get to put the focus on others while doing it!
Man, I love my “job!”
What Remains
This blog has been brewing for a couple of weeks. Sometimes, you just have to get your distance on an event before you can really put it into perspective. Sometimes, like we talked about at my Bible study last night, you just have to remember that “when the perfect comes, the partial will pass away.” (1 Corinthians 13:10) Those things we know and experience now are only temporary. Time can change the impact and meaning of events in our lives when we know the full story.
Such is this event that I want to share with you. A couple of weeks ago, I had a work-related phone call from someone interested in homeschooling. I will do my best to spare the details of the call, but it was one that left me shaking when I hung up the phone. I was mad, offended, saddened, and in shock. The mother with whom I was chatting was pulling her child out of school because of the bullying that has gone on in the school. She went on to say that her child was afraid even to go outside in the neighborhood for fear of being attacked. She had told me where she lived, and knowing this town fairly well, I was surprised by her child’s fears. Assuming perhaps it was an unusual situation, I was surprised to have her hit me with the punch line to her fears for her child. The crux of the matter in her mind was this, and I will quote her. “We are surrounded by Mexicans who only want to run around, fornicate, and get each other pregnant.” She went on to add that she did not want to raise her child in a culture where, “these Hispanics are only interested in taking the easy way out, and their laziness sets a bad example.”
It was at about this point that I interrupted her to remind her of my last name. Rodriquez. She had seen several emails with my signature on them, so she was not unaware. When I gently reminded her, she pointed out that she had seen my picture, knew I was white, and that my husband, “must have gotten out of that culture; he must be normal.”
Needless to say, the rest of the conversation was an interesting one, and as politely as I could, I stressed the sorrow I felt that this was her attitude and “experience.” It was not mine.
Fast forward now to this week. On Monday, I had the opportunity to visit with a long-time friend of our family who is now in a geriatric convalescence center. She has suffered from rapid onset of dementia, and she’s not been doing well. I had seen her about a week before, and she had known who I was, but this week, she did not. My husband and I visited for about an hour, and all the while, our friend was happy and conversational, although the conversation didn’t always make sense. Nevertheless, we played Bingo with her, sang with her, and laughed with her at her feisty spirit that still remains, even when her nurses don’t see the humor in it.
As we played Bingo, however, I looked around the room. There were about 30 clients in the room, and I knew that each one had a story. Each of them had friends who had come and gone, family members in other places, experiences that had shaped them, both for good and for bad, and pre-conceived notions of others and what they were like. Yet at this stage in their lives, they were able to enjoy each other. They were glad for the common experiences of Bingo and laughter, and yes, conversations that were quite entertaining. They joyfully needed each other, and while they had most likely come from a huge variety of social backgrounds, and certainly from different ethnic backgrounds, none of that mattered.
The people that they were, inclined to be joyful or bitter, inclined to hope or to despair, to smile first or scowl, that remained.
With this perspective, I’m able to think back on this mother who is so fearful for her child, so hurt by experiences to which I cannot relate. I pray that she has opportunities to show love to those around her, and opportunities to be loved by those around her. I pray that she has opportunities to be transformed beyond her limited past, because it’s temporary and “when the perfect comes, the partial will pass away.” I pray that her faith and hope in humanity will be renewed in her love for humanity, because love is the greatest of all – whether seen in a group of strangers-turned-friends over Bingo, or seen in acts of conversation with neighbors.
“So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.” (1 Corinthians 13:13)
Relevance
I changed the desktop background image on my computer this week. Not an earth shattering statement, I know, but relevant.
Yesterday, I took an hour-and-a-half drive across Texas (one-way) to see a friend for what turned out to be a four-hour lunch. We were a big hit with the waitress, I’m sure, but this trip is also relevant.
And like so many others, this week I witnessed with an utter absence of words as the news events of Japan’s earthquake and tsunami continue to fill the airwaves. Also relevant.
And what I’m about to say is nothing that others, including myself, haven’t said on numerous occasions. It’s not new, but it’s where my heart is today. It’s as relevant as a picture or a conversation or a crisis.
We want what we want, and we want it now. We rationalize and we justify. We often support others because we care about them. But sometimes we support others because we can get what we want, whether information or a sense of pride because we helped. Sometimes our motives are pure and sometimes, not so much. We tell the truth when it suits us, and either lie, or at best omit the truth when it doesn’t. We let friends down and we fail to meet the expectations of others all the time. We flaunt the side of ourselves that we want to show others, and we hide the rest. We cheat and we steal-even if our theft is only of others’ confidences or emotions.
So where does it end?
It ends when we look for the new in ourselves or in others. New growth, new potential, new honesty, new pictures of hope that we can cling to…It ends when we reconnect with those who know all there is to know about us and still love us, who still freely extend the love of God to us…It ends when we are forced to remember the brevity of life, the shock of an interrupted birthday party or a grocery run for food that will never be eaten.
It ends when we choose to be focused on the power of God to change us, to heal us, to forgive us, to grow us, and yes, even to disrupt us when we need it. It’s a choice, though. And a choice that I believe, is of the utmost relevance.
“And so, from the day we heard, we have not ceased to pray for you, asking that you may be filled with the knowledge of his will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding, so as to walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to him, bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God. May you be strengthened with all power, according to his glorious might, for all endurance and patience with joy, giving thanks to the Father, who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of the saints in light. He has delivered us from the domain of darkness and transferred us to the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.” (Colossians 1:9-14)
Some Saturday Musings
I read a friend’s blog today, and I will admit that my inspiration comes from her post, Siete. She wrote about seven things most of her readers wouldn’t know about her. I started thinking about that idea, and that led to something else, and I ended up with today’s blog topic. Clearly, this is a “Saturday” topic, something that won’t change the world as we know it, but something perfect for my mind’s entertainment on this Saturday…
7 Things I Wonder About…In no particular order, and with the full admission that these are “fluffy” thoughts, here are some things on my mind today.
1. I wonder what the real purpose of mosquitoes is. Seriously, it’s hard to imagine what purpose they have in God’s creation. Even before the fall from paradise, what exactly was it that mosquitoes were supposed to do? I know other people have asked this question, too, but to date, has anyone ever come up with a valid answer? I just don’t get it. Not to question God, but I can’t find the sense in mosquitoes.
2. I wonder why some people have the same nose or mouth or whatever as someone else. It fascinates me that there are complete strangers who have nothing in common, but they have identical body parts. Have you ever met someone and the entire time they’re talking, you’re thinking, “Oh my gosh, they have the same mouth as so-and-so.” One time, my husband and I were in a restaurant waiting for our table to open up, and we sat silent for a full 10 minutes, mesmerized by a woman who was the spitting image of my mother in every way – hair, nose, hand gestures. My mother had passed away a few years before, so this was quite a shock. I finally broke the silence only to ask him if it was my imagination. We were stunned. “Why does God make someone look so much like someone else?” I asked. The only answer my husband had was, “So that we never forget.”
3. Speaking of my mom, I wonder why she was so right all the time. Why are moms usually right, but when we are a mom, we almost never feel like we’re doing it right. Why is that? I didn’t get my copy of “How to Be a Mom 101,” and I’m guessing she didn’t either, so how did she do it? For instance, I remember several times she would tell me that white flour was bad for you, and that she was allergic to it. Who is allergic to white flour, or rather, who was even aware of white flour issues back in the 1960’s when she told me that. Was there even another option? How did she know that?
4. I wonder why teenagers sleep so much. Can it really be that tiring to be 13? Seriously? I’ve been accused of not having an “Idle” in my mental gears, but who can live in Idle? I love the wind blowing through my hair feeling of going, going, going. Why don’t I know how to sleep in, or take a nap? Yuk! A nap? Who has time for that? Given a productive day with a lot of things accomplished, what do I do to unwind? Think about life, and then blog about it.
5. I wonder why half-and-half can stay good for so long if you never open it, well past the expiration date, but the minute you open it, it’s a short transition to not-so-good. If the air that I breathe has that much of an effect on cream, then what is it doing to me?
6. I wonder why you get smarter as you get older until you reach the age where you start realizing how little you know. How is it that the phrase, “the older I get, the less I know” can be true when we keep learning things all the time? It is, though. I’ve begun to use that phrase here and there. The first time it came out of my mouth, I nearly choked in horror. Did I really mean that? Yes, I did. How can that be?
7. I wonder, if any decision I ever made, would have changed my life differently or would I have traveled to basically the same place? If I had gone to a different college, majored in something else, taken a different job, moved to a different town, would I have lived differently, or was I destined to be right here, right now, in this place? (I guess it boils down to whether you’re Presbyterian or not, right, Amanda?) But seriously, what decisions would have given me the same answers? I wonder…
Okay, so maybe these weren’t all “fluffy,” but these are things I think about sometimes – among others!
The Second Son in Me
Don’t you hate it when someone tells you that they’re going to do something, or promises it will be ready by a certain time, and then they don’t follow-through? I hate that. Those are strong words, but if you know me at all, you know I hate to abuse time. Time is a gift. I believe that with every fiber of my being. We can choose to work or play, be productive or not, but what we choose to use our time for is a “no-going-back decision.” You don’t get those moments back. So, while there’s a difference between choosing some down time and wasting time, it frustrates me beyond measure when I put my gift of time into someone else’s hands and they don’t return the favor or respect my gift.
The problem for me is that doesn’t absolve me of my responsibility to react in a certain way. Maybe you don’t have a problem with that, but I do. This is where I struggle. When someone promises me a job will be done by Friday, or Saturday at the latest, and it doesn’t get completed until Tuesday thus holding up other projects, you can see where I might be frustrated. (Names of the not-so-innocent are being withheld here, but this is a true story…I bet you guessed that.) At times like these, my nature is to make sure that the person with whom I’m speaking knows exactly how I feel about the problem. My nature is to rant a little. My nature is to ask for their superiors, to file a complaint, to ask for a refund, etc. My family calls it my “phone voice” and I used to be famous for it.
In fact, as a funny little side-story, there was a time when we were moving to a very beautiful, but small town in another state for my husband’s seminary training. It was so small that we had no mail delivery at our house and we were encouraged to get our mail delivered to a central office at the seminary. I didn’t want my mail shared with all the other students and families, sorted out by ‘who knows’ and left in an open basket for pick up. At least, that’s how I imagined it was going to be. So, off I went, calling all over this faraway town, trying to figure out a solution. We had been told that “everyone knows everyone there,” and cautioned not to say anything we’d regret, so I was nice. Really nice. I was sugary sweet, but I still couldn’t get mail rerouted to be delivered to our assigned seminary house. So, over the phone and from long-distance, I rented a postal box at the post office. The kicker was, when we finally arrived at this new town, never having met anyone at the post office before, I walked up to the counter and just as I said, “I’d like to pick up my key,” and before I could give my name, I was greeted by, “Hi, Mrs. Rodriquez. We’re glad you’re finally here!”
I guess my phone voice must have come through a little bit. The good news is that they were very nice and didn’t hold that against me, but that’s the point, right? My actions, good, bad, or otherwise, resulted in them giving me the benefit of the doubt. Their response was tempered no matter what they thought of me, and they gave me another chance to show my better side. I learned while there in that small town that my phone voice had to be retired. Some days I hear it trying to resurface when I speak with people like the one I’ve been working with this last week on a project, but I try very hard to be mindful of the retired status of my phone voice.
I was thinking about this today when I realized how much I’m like the second son in the parable of the two sons. The first son was given a job to do and said, “No.” He changes his mind later and gets the job done. The second son was given a task to do and says, “Sure,” but then he never does the work. I wondered how many times I have said I’m going to do something, whether it’s big or little, and then I never do it, or how many times I’ve been late with my end of the project. I started thinking about parties I’ve been invited to that I didn’t attend because I was just too tired at the last-minute, or things I’ve told my kids I would do that I forgot to do. My intentions aren’t to be mean or to be inattentive. I just get busy or forget. I have other things come up, or I underestimate the time it will take to do something. All the while, I leave someone unanswered, overcommitted, or waiting.
My response, whether it is the follow through I promise, or my reaction to the follow through of others, has to be such that I remember who was praised in that parable. The first son was praised. He got the job done. There’s no mention of whether it was on time or not, but he completed the task. For that, he was true to his father’s request. We have to be true to our Father’s request too.
Time. Reaction. Action. God gives us time to use, and it’s a precious gift. He also gives us opportunities to react to others, and preferably without “the voice” because otherwise, we’ll have to rebuild our reputations later, a much more daunting task. But then, ultimately, we must take action to the task at hand, whatever it is. We must remember that we will need grace at times, so we have to react and act with grace. We have to remember that there will be lots of jobs to do, and many times that our Father will task us with a role. He is looking for the willing, not the perfect. In the parable, Jesus points out that it’s the sinners who understand this. Clearly, I can understand this.
“There was a man who had two sons. He went to the first and said, ‘Son, go and work today in the vineyard.’
‘I will not,’ he answered, but later he changed his mind and went. Then the father went to the other son and said the same thing. He answered, ‘I will, sir,’ but he did not go.
” ‘Which of the two did what his father wanted?’ “
‘The first,’ they answered.
Jesus said to them, “I tell you the truth, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God ahead of you. For John came to you to show you the way of righteousness, and you did not believe him, but the tax collectors and the prostitutes did.” (Matthew 21:28-32)
It’s Just A Couch, But…
We bought a sofa and loveseat pairing yesterday. It seems a risky thing to do considering that our income is changing drastically, and this may not seem like the time to do that. But for you Dave Ramsey followers and fans, know that we have been saving for this for a long, long time, and we bought it on sale after educated shopping. We paid cash from the correct envelope, and so all is well with the world in that regard.
I tell you all of that because this was a leap of faith in many ways. We have had the current sofa and loveseat for nearly 20 years, and have been through more slip covers than I care to count up. We have entertained friends and guests on those couches. We have made decisions about life, and decisions that changed our lives sitting on those couches. We have slept there, ate there, played games there, debated there, reconciled there and lived on those couches for many years. Come to think of it, our children have known no other couches, which might explain why one of them seemed to struggle with the idea that we were buying new ones. These old couches are a bit sentimental, or should I say that the members of my family are a bit sentimental about the old couches.
But, life moves on. Things change, or “ooze” into different shades of the same things, but shifting occurs. Always. And so, after having new couches on our wish list for many years, we have finally ordered them. They come in next week, after being treated so to withstand all perils of man and animals (a necessary process around here) and mind you, these are very modest couches, but I am looking forward to them. They represent something that is worth the investment, regardless of the shifting that we are walking through right now.
These couches speak to our future. They speak to new friends who will come into our lives, and old ones with whom we will continue to spend cherished time. They speak to hospitality that we hope to be able to extend to others who need a place to sit and rest for a while. They speak to the parties that we will have in the future, and some of you know that we are famous for our themed-parties! I can imagine guests on those couches even now, dressed for all sorts of “interesting” themes. They speak to the hopes we have for future laughs and family gatherings. They will be where my family makes future decisions and plans, and based on our track record for how long we hold on to couches, I am guessing that my children’s children may be sentimental about these new couches one day.
So, just a set of couches? Maybe. Something more about opening our lives to others and their needs? I pray that they would be so!
A Casual Conversation?
What do you do when you know you are supposed to do something, and you know it’s going to be both exciting and difficult, rewarding yet costly, and it’s also likely to disenfranchise you from some of your friends? What do you do when this is a thing of faith, a calling, and not an ordinary decision? (Is there any decision for a Christian that comes from some place other than faith, though?)
I had a conversation today that has continued to remain on my mind. I had lunch with a couple of good friends and we were discussing a comment I had made that I didn’t like it when ”faith” was seen as competitive. For instance, for Christians, does it matter if you go to this Bible study or that one, as long as you are studying the Word? What if you are a member at one church, but another church has a weekday program that suits your schedule and feeds your spiritual growth also? Faith is not about competition. Not unless you are viewing it as a business, which I am sad to say that some must, or there wouldn’t be this level of animosity.
My friend shared a story about two ministries that struggled over their membership “pools” for over 30 years before one group offered an olive branch to the other one. Imagine 30 years of arguing over which program was better when both lifted up the name of the Lord, both encouraged study and prayer, both sought to serve the kingdom of God.
I think there is a reason that there are so many Bible-based, orthodox Christian churches in this country, but sadly, also a reason why so many drive by them instead of stopping every Sunday. Different worship styles will nurture different people. Yet Christians argue about which is better, as if there is a “right one,” rather than which suits the needs of the people in a particular place.
I know that this struggle is nothing new. I know there are no simple answers because in our humanity, we are not simple. I know that the collective “church” has been walking this question out for many, many years – centuries, even. All I can say is that for me and my household, we will strive to serve the Lord (Joshua 24:15), even if imperfectly and humanly, in the places He calls us to go…
“You are all sons of God through faith in Christ Jesus, for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. If you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s seed, and heirs according to the promise.” (Galatians 3:26-28)
I Could, But I Won’t
I could, but I won’t. Say it again. I could, but I won’t.
It’s like a little mantra of mine that sometimes I have to just say to myself a few times. It works for me in all sorts of occasions and on a sliding scale. For instance, the urge to push the snooze button instead of getting up on time to exercise? “I could, but I won’t. Or, that really decadent ooey-gooey brownie a la mode that the restaurant is serving? “I could, but I won’t. I could, but I won’t.” That one might need a couple of repetitions. Sliding scale. See?
It also works to keep me on a budget. That extra blouse at the mall? You get the idea.
Now in really tough situations, such as when I feel that I’ve been wronged, or I know that someone just doesn’t have the whole story, and maybe they don’t even want it? Hmmm. I’m going to need a few more repetitions of my phrase. I could, but I won’t. I could, but I won’t. I could, but I won’t. Or maybe I will…..No, I could…but I won’t!
I’ve learned one thing. Wait. Scratch that. I’m aware of one thing in this type of situation, but learning it takes a whole lot of repetition. The fact that I could act a certain way, or respond a certain way, or say something, or do something – now that is where the true power comes. If I want to be in control of something, then that is the most important thing to be in control of – my response. That’s powerful when I can control it.
Sometimes though I speak or act before I think. Not usually a good thing to do. I’m almost always sorry about it or at the very least can come up with a better way to have handled it later – when it’s too late.
So, whether it’s that not-so-good for me indulgence or a sarcastic, biting rebuttal, I’m left with my own personal challenge – I could, but I won’t.
The Grace-Standard
In addition to this being a wonderfully productive and relaxing Easter weekend, if those two can exist at the same time, I’ve also come up with a new theory from my Great Dane, Grace. Sometimes, you just have to close the door.
You see, Grace has a sensitive stomach. Many Danes do. She can easily react to stress and find herself in need of Imodium chasers for a day or so, if you know what I mean. But twice in the last two weeks, Grace has outdone herself in that area. All due to the simple fact that I didn’t close the door.
For a dog, particularly a Dane, Grace is pretty smart. Great Danes are not known for being the rocket scientists of dogs, but they make up for it in the cuddle factor. They love nothing more than to sit/sprawl/absorb your lap and cuddle with you. It’s quite a sight, too, for a dog that size. But back to Grace – She’s actually pretty sharp. She has learned how to snap open the dog food dispenser and help herself. At first we thought it was a fluke, but after she has repeated the process a few times, we realized that she really was opening it herself.
As you can imagine, when she decides that she’s hungry, she just visits what she perceives to be a self-help buffet bucket. But, she is lacking the internal “stop” wire, or something like that, so she just eats herself sick. Literally. It lasts for several days, and suffice it to say that it’s not pleasant for anyone in the area, not to mention that it could literally be life-threatening for her…Danes are subject to bloating and flipping stomachs.
But, she is fine now and we have decided that the weighted object on top of the food bowl isn’t sufficient on its own, and so we have to close the door to the room where her food is kept. Seems easy enough, but it’s a high traffic room, so it’s going to take some retraining of our attentions and that’s how I arrived at my theory.
I was reminded of a question that has come up a few times lately. How do you know the difference between “I just have to work a little bit harder on this goal” versus “This is a closed-door” situation. Sometimes the things we want just take a bit of hard work and effort, and then we have to do it again – working harder still. Eventually, the object or goal in mind will become ours. Or, we can learn the new skill, etc. with just a bit more “push” or effort. But sometimes, God is keeping us from that desire, not allowing us “passage” if you will – closing a door to us because something just isn’t good for us, in our best interests, or right for us at that time. So, how do you know the difference?
If I can use Grace as my object lesson, then it boils down to health. If I’m making myself sick or getting out of balance spiritually or physically, then it’s probably time to close the door and walk away. I’ll be happier in the long run, certainly healthier, and I might find that it also frees up those around me to do what they are called to do rather than taking their time to clean up my “messes.”
I’ll call this the Grace-standard. I’ll test it out and see if it holds true, but in the meantime, I’ve closed the door. Sometimes that’s the message God wants me to see – through His grace!
“When they came to the border of Mysia, they tried to enter Bithynia, but the Spirit of Jesus would not allow them to.” (Acts 16:7)
