My deodorant decided to fight me yesterday. The spinner mechanism at the bottom came unattached to the stick that pushes up the actual white glob that keeps friends closer. After several attempts at overriding the spinner, pushing the stick, unscrewing, reasserting, my blood pressure rising, I realized I was in a battle. I actually have many battles waging around me, this one I determined to win. I removed the stick altogether and searched for something on the bathroom countertop that was about that size. I tried an emery board but it wasn’t sturdy enough. I considered chopsticks but they were all they way downstairs and I wasn’t about to leave my enemy unguarded. Ah, my toothbrush. I jammed that right up the hole where the tiny stick used to go and pushed. Pieces of blue plastic flew around the floor. Headway. One more good push and the actual product rose out of its hiding spot, victory was mine. Until it fell on the floor.
These battles I fight often seem to go this way, just one push too far until I think I have won but ultimately have lost. I am much better at conflict resolution than in my younger days when I was definitely always right. Now I’m just mostly always right. I’ve been told countless times by professors and family members that I would have made a great attorney. This is maybe not a compliment. What I see as passion and clarity of an issue can often feel like a semi bearing down on others. This is something I just learned about myself, thanks to my brother and a very late night conversation. I am still hearing the echoes of someone who dared tell me the truth a day, a week later.
My Chef and I talked at length about this, a hard talk. I had to own some junk that would be better left at the side of the road. God enabled me to see both sides of a situation, process it quickly, sum it up and then determinate the best route, all in about 3.2 seconds. Perfect in a crisis but thankfully we don’t stay in crisis mode too much around here. My brain does though maybe, it goes too fast and I leave others in my wake. I am definitely not smarter, I just go faster. Chef said it is like I have a NASA computer while he has one from the 70’s with the old dial up, he is still trying to get his past the blinking light on the monitor and I am done. This is an ugly thing about me, it hurts me to know my family sees me as a steamroller. I am blessed that they still love me.
Going so quickly means I often leave God by the wayside as well. I may think I have included Him but I haven’t consulted Him. Being so sure all the time may mean I have fully considered my position, evaluated all sides, determined the best course of action but where is the praying part? Where is the being still part? I may win but the deodorant is still laying on the floor. God speaking to me comes in those quiet times. I think God drives a really old chevy pick up truck, I like to think it is blue since that is my favorite color. God’s truck has all the windows down, the tailgate flat. God drives slowly through the countryside, waving at friends, giving rides to anyone who ran out of gas. God has room in the front, in the back. God definitely would never drive a steamroller.
I am working on keeping my windows down, waving more, giving some rides, driving slower. The keys to my steamroller have been handed over. I have asked Jesus to give me a swift jab with my toothbrush if I try to reclaim them.This battle is between Jesus and Me. I hope to lose.