On the Perception of Self

 

 

perception: n. Conscious understanding of something.

 

The tiny, elderly lady was in her driveway, getting out of her car. I approached her and introduced myself: “I’m Ladonna, and I hope it isn’t inappropriate if I ask you a few questions.” Continuing, I explained where I live in the neighborhood. "I'm in the duplex up on the corner.”

“I know where you live,” she commented. “It’s the house with all the flowers.”

I did the nervous laugh thing and kept talking. In all honesty, I was wanting to find some “dirt” on my next-door neighbors. Their home adjoins this neighbor’s property opposite mine, on the other side of their back yard. My neighbor’s desire to have a back yard farm has been a source of personal grief since they moved in. Most recently I took issue with their housing ducks in an unsanitary manner, and I filed a complaint with the city. I was hoping I could add these neighbors to the list, giving support to my cause.

We visited for a while as she shared their own animal issues with the neighbors. I had brought contact information for the city with me and left it with her. 

I headed back home. The house with all the flowers?? What an inglorious way to be remembered. Truthfully, I was kind of hoping my legacy would be one of “Wise Woman in the Neighborhood” or something more refined and wonderful sounding.

God and I have been wrestling for a while. Rather, I have been wrestling with God. It’s about the same as a toddler trying to grapple with his physical father. The winner is apparent from the start.

’Change me. Please change me, God.”

“Why would I do that? Why would I change you from the person I created you to be?”

“I talk too much, God. I need to shut my mouth and be quiet.”

I have always been a talker. I envy those who sit quietly as they listen and observe. It isn’t that I don’t like who I am. I just have this perception a better "me" would be more placid and less boisterous. All I'm asking for is a tweak in my personality, a minor makeover.

Tucked away in the files in my mind is a list of personal criticism and judgements directed against myself: I am a knee-jerk reaction person, one who is unable to hide my emotions or reactions. Just this afternoon, while working in my garden, I yelled across the street at two young boys who were arguing over an abandoned grocery cart. “Stop fighting! Stop fighting!!,” I shouted out spontaneously. “Whatever you’re fighting over, it isn’t worth it. Get along.” Surprisingly, they stopped their battle and headed on down the sidewalk.

Of late, consistency has not been my forte’. From one day to the next my mood may range from cynical to hopeful, somber to joyful.

Since I am unable to change myself into my perception of a new-and-improved "me", I have attempted to coerce my Heavenly Father into accomplishing that feat for me. I have not been successful.

Decades ago, I was in a world of hurt. I wanted another child but was unable to become pregnant. An eating disorder had overtaken me. The ensuing depression was an additional debilitation.

Where are you, God? Where are you? In the midst of such a state there is no hope. Daily living is difficult, often torturous. Sleep offers no reprieve. And it begins all over again the next day, with no end in sight—ever.

I remember every detail when He whispered to me. I know where I was. I know what I was wearing. I know what and how I was feeling--abject hopelessness. Our family had gone to a spot upriver where the kids could play in a creek with friends. I carried my devastation, a constant companion, with me.

 God spoke: “You are exactly as I want you to be." I understood that to mean not only me, but my circumstances. I can guarantee you I did not jump up and down for joy. My idea of perfection was a far cry from His reality. But I did hear Him, and I have never forgotten. In fact, He often reminds me: “You are exactly as I want you to be.” This is one of those times.

I may have a perception of what I think I should be like, but that is all it is. It is my perception. The clay is not in the position to tell the potter what the finished product should look like.

Right here. Right now. I am exactly as God wants me to be. And that includes the "talker" and the "just a little bit crazy, you never know what to expect old woman." If I need to be changed it will be at His hand and not according to my perception.

God pointed out that, after Creation, He placed Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden to tend it. I am in good company if the lady up the street knows I live in “the house that has all of the flowers.”

 

Yet, Lord, you are our father. We are the clay, and you are our potter;

your hands made us all.

Isaiah 64:8 NET