EMPTIED TO BE FILLED UP

No one can do anything as well as I can.  My presence is vital to the success of anything. 

I just got done saying those statements to my husband in reference to someone we both know.  That is the air, the vibe, even sometimes the words this person gives off.  It is guised though in this spiritual faux humbleness and a bit of I am invaluable to the Kingdom of God because I talk about the kingdom of God and the like constantly.  We are full of ourselves at times aren't we.  Me included.  Meism and controlling behaviors come packaged in the blatant (referenced in the first two sentences).  They come lightly veiled in humbleness to the point of drawing too much attention to ourselves.  The ME in ourselves pokes through in trying to maintain a level of perfection to others that is not real.  I love authentic.  I want a diamond, not a cubic zirconium.  I want real pearls, not faux ones.  I want to be really listened to, not just heard.  I want real coffee, not instant like Sanka.  I want old fashioned slow cooked oatmeal, not a microwavable packet.  I want a homemade healthy meal, not a burger from a drive through.  I want solid wood furniture, not put together pressed wood crap.  I want to be around real people who show their true colors, their heart, their soul, their mind.  Who are balanced with authenticity, self-perspective and humor.  I've said before that I am not a very girlie girl.  I just wasn't created that way.  Excess anything gets on my every last nerve.  Excess makeup, jewelry, belongings, food, uses of money, thoughts of myself, etc.  I thought about why those two opening attitudes that come through Christians irritate me.  Why do I feel such unease to be around unauthentic people as though there just isn't enough air for me to breathe?  They make it hard for me to see God clearly. Juxtaposing themselves in the right light so they are in the picture with God too.  I am so far from perfect as well.  In my own subversive ways I too have been too full of myself.  One of our daughters made sushi for our Christmas.  It was delicious.  I wanted to eat more than I did, but I was so full already that I could not hold one more morsel inside of my stomach.  I love that portion in the Bible that talks about us being jars of clay (pretty simple, borderline unimpressive, maybe even unattractive and easily broken) holding God.  God displaying himself could have been like creating a Macy's Christmas window display.  But instead, in order to fully show Himself to the world, He set his wonder against the frailty, the yuckiness of a human heart.  I love that.  I think God too is a minimalist like me.  Less of us inside creates a bigger space for him.  I am convinced that God doesn't give a rat's ass what we know.  He doesn't care how many times we go to India or give money to build a well in Africa for fresh water.  He cares most about how full or empty we are of ourselves.  Period.  That is the determining factor on how much of Himself He can place in our lives.   I pick up sticks that fall from my large maple tree.  A lot of sticks fall.  Sometimes I get in a hurry and try to keep picking up more sticks when my hands are already full to capacity with them.  I am trying to save trips to the trash can.  I am trying to get it done quicker.  What ends up happening though, is that I begin to drop the ones bundled in my hands as I try to pick up more.  It's very hard for me to hold God when I am full of control, arrogance, and my own desires.  It's even harder to hold God when I foolishly think He needs me, my words, my actions or contributions to society.