Coincidence? Ha!

Angela does not want me to go the conference this weekend (to find out who Angela is, you'll have to read the next post, and you can find out more about the conference in the post, "A Gift Greater Than Gold"). When she's not telling me that it's a waste of time, she's busy predicting a variety of disasters that will prevent me from going. When my husband came back inside yesterday morning and told me he was unable to dislodge the tire tread he had run over the night before from the rear axle of the truck and would have to take the car to work, it was tempting to listen to her, but Beau said it wasn't a big deal. He didn't want to drive the truck all the way to work, but assured me it would be fine to drive it to the mechanic down the street. So he turned the truck around in the driveway for me, and I made an afternoon appointment with the mechanic...but I didn't make the appointment because the truck wouldn't start.

Since the truck worked just fine earlier, I assumed the tire tread had done some sort of damage when Beau turned the truck around. Angela pounced at this unwelcome turn of events. "Something terrible happened when Beau moved the truck. It's probably thousands of dollars worth of damage that will take days to repair. How are you going to get to the conference, hmmmm??" I'll admit I listened to her for a few minutes, but then decided I would view the situation as a gift—an opportunity to trust God. So I answered every thought from Angela with Psalm 121:1-2, "..where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord."

I called AAA for a tow , and even though I knew we'd likely have to walk home if the damage was serious, Zack and I caught a ride to the mechanic with the tow truck driver. I took advantage of the waiting time to work on a blog post, and even had time to read a great article called, "Sit. Stay." The topic? The importance of not running away or finding distractions when faced with an uncomfortable, but beneficial situation (imagine me needing to be reminded of that this week!).

In less than an hour, the perky receptionist called me up and said, "We were able to remove the tire tread, no problem. And the only thing wrong with the truck was a dead battery, which was totally independent of the lodged tire tread. Isn't that a crazy coincidence?" I smiled and said, "great news! praise God!" And inside I was thinking, "Coincidence? Ha! It's a good and perfect gift."

Fighting The Lizard Brain

I just finished reading a fantastic book called Linchpin. Are You Indispensable? It's a secular book from marketing guru Seth Godin. Naturally, he writes from a secular point of view, but the bulk of his message is only amplified when considered from a biblical perspective. The most important thing I took away from the book can best be expressed by Godin himself, "It turns out that what we need are gifts and connections and humanity—and the artist who create them." We're all born "artists" with something unique and brilliant inside of us, and we all long to share it with others. The art we create isn't limited to painting, writing, or making music. We have the opportunity to create art in every interaction. "Being open is art. Making a connection when it's not part of your job is gift. You can say your lines and get away with it, or you can touch someone and make a difference in their life forever. This is risky and it's impossible to demand of someone. The decision to commit to the act is a personal one, a gift from the heart."

Sadly, however, we're often unwilling to extend ourselves. We're often hesitant to create and share our art. And it's because of what Godin calls the lizard brain. "Everyone has a voice inside their head that's angry and afraid. That voice is the resistance—your lizard brain." The lizard brain doesn't want us to take risks and doesn't like change. The lizard brain tells us we must be perfect. And the lizard brain is tenacious, it "will invent stories, illnesses, emergencies, and distractions in order to keep the genius bottled up." The "wicked, lazy servant" in Matthew 25 listened to his lizard brain.

Godin wonders why "we're so easily able to expend emotional labor off the job, but uncomfortable expending the same energy on the job," and asks "Can the time you spend at work be the place you give gifts, create connections, invent, and find joy?" The thing is, I've never had a problem with expending emotional labor at work. Give me a job to do, and I will not only approach it with passion, but will easily (and happily) connect with and relate to the people associated with the work. The problem I struggle with is that my lizard brain wants to tie the relationships and the passion to the work. My lizard brain likes work. Work is necessary, predictable, and controlled. As long as I have something to do, my lizard brain feels safe, and as I discussed in my post "Skating Through Life," work can be a convenient distraction to keep me from creating art.

So last fall when I felt God pushing me to create the art He was calling me to create and extend myself outside the context of getting a job done, my lizard brain fought like never before. It took months of prayer, Bible study, and counsel from trusted friends (thanks Jen and Titus group ladies!) to quiet the lizard brain. It was a hard fight, and though the lizard brain lost the battle, I knew it wouldn't give up the war.

My lizard brain talks so much, I've given it a name: Angela (after Angela on The Office). As I tiptoed out in faith to respond to God's leading, I asked Him to keep me stocked with anti-Angela ammunition for the battles I knew would come. He has faithfully provided just what I needed at just the right times through scriptures, sermons, songs, emails, conversations, and many other places, including Seth Godin's book.

Seth Godin is undoubtedly an artist, and Linchpin is a gift to his readers, but the fact that it made it into my hands at just the right time was a good and perfect gift from the master Artist.

p.s. Godin devotes more than a chapter to the significance of gifts. Artists may be paid for their gifts, but the recipient can never fully compensate the artist. We can, however, be changed by the art. We can be inspired to give a gift to someone else. "A gift always creates a surplus as it spreads." I love that quote, but one of my favorite things Godin says about gifts comes from his blog. "The way I understand gifts is that the giver must make a sacrifice, create an uneven exchange, bring himself closer to the recipient, create change and do it all with the right spirit. To do anything less might be smart commerce, but it doesn't rise to the magical level of the gift." Everytime I read that, I'm reminded of the gift of salvation. In the spirit of perfect love, Christ made a sacrifice that we can never repay. We are brought closer to Him through His gift, and are changed in the process. Love that.