Who I Want to Be

alternatively entitled "in which I (perhaps) inappropriately ask God to 'do his dang thang.'"

I should be reading Cato right now.

For my class in two hours.

But Cato doesn't give a care about my cares. And even if he did, he couldn't do a dang thing about it.

The fact that I know God can, do a dang thing, that is, brings me here instead.

I just literally ache for Him to transform me. Not necessarily into who I want to be, but into who I could be because He gave Jesus for that purpose. To transform me. Thus, it is not just who I could be, it is who I should be.

Not because someone said so. Not because I feel temporarily insecure. Not because of some great book I'm reading or who I think I'd like to be.

I long for transformation because this, me, I, am so inadequate.

Not discouraged by some paper or test. Not stressed. Not lonely. Not tired. Not sleepy. Though I am sometimes one or a combination of those things. But it's not just in my weakness. Even in my happiness, I have no way of spreading joy to the hurting people around me. My strong suits are simply nothing compared to God's strength. No, in all things, I alone am inadequate.

And that is not who I want to be.

I know I'm not alone. That is abundantly clear when there are two people piled on top of me whose laughter I can literally feel. When I sit and watch Kelsie's giddiness at the premiere of NCIS, I am not alone. When I'm flailing about in Ball circle chasing after some stupid frisbee like a madwoman with various beloved members of the BCM, I am not alone. I don't feel alone when Deirdre and I are laughing in a corner of the nest and life is just so familiar. When my week is trodden with all sorts of lunch dates and dinner dates and tv dates, I don't feel alone.

But when, in some of these dates, I find out about the things burdening my friends, I feel inadequate. Unable to offer advice, at a loss for words, careful not to further hurt feelings. Sad that things just aren't and will not be how they were. I feel inadequate to relate and it can get incredibly lonely. Not because I am lonely. Matter of a fact, in a weird, twisted way, I love that I have these relationships in which to confide. No I'm not lonely. But all the feelings of inadequacy come from this overwhelming feeling that I am alone.

And that is just not who I want to be.

Because God's honest truth about it is that I am not. Or I don't have to be.

I've been through and emerged from a time in my life where I learned (and relearned) that Satan is quick, fast, and in a hurry to take what is meant to be alone time with God and turn it into a lonely time. And while I've come out of that stage, the struggle between the two still rears its ugly head sometimes.

Like when I'm supposed to be reading for class.

I don't feel lonely. I am surrounded by people who show a sincere interest in my life for reasons only God knows.

But I do feel alone. Inadequate. Not helpful.

I could go down the lonely path. Sit around and soak up the alone-ness. Continuing to feel inadequate and not helpful.

Or I could wake up and realize that I am not helpless. This alone time could be with God. It could serve a purpose. It should serve a purpose. The helplessness feeling? It's meant to push me to find help.

The laughter with precious people is nice. It's uplifting. It is ever-reminding me that I am not alone. But it is not my help.

It's not the transforming factor. It is not adequate. An always happy, jolly person? That is not who I want to be.

I want to be like Paul. To know what it is to be in need, to be hungry, to live in want.

I want to be the person Jesus blesses in the Sermon on the Mount. Poor in spirit, mourning, meek, hungry for righteousness, merciful, pure in heart, peacemaking, and persecuted.

Because then I could truly say "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."

It's not about not having work, or not having problems or staying away from burdensome things. It's about learning to be content no matter the circumstance. It's not me. And it is not the natural tendency of this completely inadequate mindset.

An always joyful person with an ever-near God, because of an ever-adequate God?

That's who I want to be. And I'm not about to be able to get there by some positive thoughts. Not by achieving a good grade. Not by contagious laughter. Not by late night chats. Not by alone time, not by group time. Not by those things alone, at least. I've got to get better at giving God more than the time left over after all of these things.

I've been reading Frances Chan's "Crazy Love" recently. On page 92 he writes, "leftovers are not merely inadequate; from God's point of view, they're evil. Let's stop calling it 'a busy schedule' or 'bills' or 'forgetfulness.' Its called evil." So you're thinking, as I was, "that's just some crazy conservative too big for his britches (people don't use that word enough) author spoutin' stuff all up out of his head" (this may not have been you exact thought, given that no one uses the word britches and generally people only use one preposition in a prepositional phrase, but it was probably along those lines, right?) But the fact of the matter is that it is all in scripture, and Francis is quick to point out only a few of the very contextualized passages. I mean, whoa.

Maybe that's why I'm not really where I want to be. Am I just feeding God the leftovers? That's what is inadequate.

I don't want to feel helpless in the things going on around me.

I want to be a conqueror.

"No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." (Romans 8:37-39)

That's who I want to be.

God, won't you do your dang thang?