Centimeters, Inches, and a Mental Block

The metric system baffled me as a child. I agonized over my math book until Mom gave up.  Home schooling offered us that blessing—the freedom to say, "Let's try again next year."

I have no idea why it was so hard for me to measure things a different way. Centimeters? Inches? Who cares? My young mind couldn't do it, and my struggle continues to this day.

Oh, I can handle centimeters now, but changing other measurements in my life has been harder. How do I measure myself? I tend to measure my success, and thus my value, by what I accomplish. Did I get my work done today? I measure myself by what other people think of me and my ability to live up to their standards.

The apostle Paul understood this struggle. Many people judged him, evaluating whether he was the best speaker, the most gifted teacher, or the greatest one to follow. His answer? "Big deal! I'm a servant of Christ, and God asks me to be faithful." (See 1 Corinthians 3:4-6; 4:1-2.)

But with me it is a very small thing that I should be judged by you or by a human court. In fact, I do not even judge myself. For I know of nothing against myself, yet I am not justified by this; but He who judges me is the Lord. Therefore judge nothing before the time, until the Lord comes, who will both bring to light the hidden things of darkness and reveal the counsels of the hearts. Then each one’s praise will come from God. (1 Corinthians 4:3-5 NKJV)

I try to measure myself by God's standard and not the measuring stick of our current culture, but I don't fully grasp God's ways. Besides, I know I fall short. Am I getting a B or a C? Not a chance. When I look at God's holiness, His absolute perfection, I know I'm at a solid F. Maybe I should go back to the world's standard. I have more hope there.

But God stops me with His gentle whisper, "Jen, you're My daughter. Quit grading yourself. Be faithful, and I'll praise you. I promise."

Forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 3:13-14 KJV)

Don't Press Record!

Record buttons make me freeze. Worse yet, they make me shake in fear and trepidation, a fact I tried desperately to hide in yesterday's recording session with the Chippewa Valley Symphony Orchestra.

After a year of no orchestra rehearsals, we met and recorded a concert to be premiered on the symphony's website on May 8 at 7:30 p.m. The recording session began well, but the gently rising melody of Tchaikovsky's Elegie ruined me. Its whispery entrance accentuated the tremor I hoped to suppress.

Recordings unmask my secret horror, "All my mistakes will be permanent."

This angst plagues my relationships too. What if I say something wrong? What if I accidentally hurt someone? Is there any way to erase the pain?

I'm growing in the humility of seeking forgiveness, but I have no control over whether that forgiveness will be granted. However, I can control one thing—my responses to others. I can choose to forgive. 

1 Corinthians 13:5 says love "keeps no record of wrongs." Our culture paints many pictures of love from gushy romances to friendships built on shared interests and time spent hanging out. But God's love is deeper. It's a love that does the tough stuff, a love that forgives.

So I'm embracing God's love today and choosing not to press record.

Image by THAM YUAN YUAN from Pixabay