Our Pants… And Our Purpose #WilcoWednesday

Welcome to Wilco Wednesday! If you are a new around these parts, “Wilco” is Army-speak for “Will Comply.” Think of it as saying “Roger, God. Got it. Will do.”  So that is what Wednesday here at 7 Days Time is all about– exploring his decrees and seeking guidance for what complying with Him looks like in everyday life. The best part? He loves us for who we are, not what we do.  Remember: He doesn’t want perfection, just obedience. Share. Enjoy. Interact. And let’s respond to God’s call with  a hearty “Wilco, Lord!” Welcome today one of the most insightful, humorous writer-y friends I have ever met, Lindsey. 

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By Sunday night, I was a wreck. I curled up into a ball on my side of the bed and stared at the wall, contemplating life’s meaninglessness and ultimate inevitably. Tears ran down my cheeks as I tried (unsuccessfully) to quiet the deep snortles coming from my tantrum-caused stuffy nose. Dust in the Wind played monotonously in my head… “all we are is dust in the wiiiinnnddd….” and I nodded. How right you are, Kansas, how right you are.

My husband came in and lightly touched my shoulder, startling me out of my pout-fest with Kansas. He asked me if I needed a hug. I venomously snarked that a hug wouldn’t solve my despair! Wouldn’t give me purpose! Wouldn’t stop my one-way ticket to becoming dust in the wind! He put his hands up as surrender and slowly backed out of the room.

It all started early that week. I am a freelance writer, mostly specializing in education and hilarity. After I finish a project, I send it on over to my editor, Susan, who reviews, suggests, and sends it back for revisions. I never minded the revisions part. She always made sure to highlight the quips that made her laugh and would complement my ideas. Her revision suggestions were always tactful and unassuming. She would help me develop my ideas without making me feel like a failure. I always finished up a project feeling like I was good at my job.

However, last week my project was sent back to revise by an unknown email. The woman introduced herself as my new editor, along with a long list of bolded, bulleted items that I had done incorrectly and needed to fix. As I looked over the document, I became more and more despondent the further I read on. Page after page was filled with “revision suggestions” and sections of my draft that she wanted completely redone. She called my writing “fluffy” and “not funny.” I was told to be “voicer” and that my ideas were too generic. She did not complement one iota of my work.

I was upset. Who was this woman and what had she done with Susan? Why wasn’t there any happy face emoticons dotting my paper? Surely there was some sort of mix-up.

My shoulders slumped as I reached to turn off the computer. “This is stupid,” I thought. “I’m okay. There is nothing to be upset about. It’s just a new editor with different expectations of humor and writing style. Yeah. That’s it. I’m alright.”

But as the week went on and I received two more revision requests (two more than I’ve ever gotten), I knew that I was not okay. The two things I felt God had given me—humor and writing—were thrown into question at the same time. My thoughts whirled as Satan seized the opportunity to ask me timely questions.

“Were you ever actually that good at writing?”

“Maybe your previous editor was just too nice and didn’t want to tell you the truth.”

“Why are you even wasting your time?”

“You aren’t funny—just weird.”

(Okay, maybe that last one wasn’t Satan, but it was definitely part of my mental mantra.)

Besides my little writing problem, my entire week ended up being full of personal attacks aimed at my core being. My integrity was questioned. I was accused of not doing something that I was working very hard at. Someone said nasty stuff about me (cue tear drop). I was made to feel guilty. I was made to feel stupid.

Inch by inch, day by day, I distanced myself from God. Not intentionally, but I definitely began to withdraw into myself, wanting to run away and live peacefully in one of the maple trees in the forest by my house. I had it all figured out. I would live with the eagles and eat bark to get by. I would come visit my husband and kids on weekends and do a load of laundry. Anything to get away from feeling like a worthless chump.

 I fell right in line Satan’s meandering whispers until I was curled up on my bed, crying and singing old Kansas songs to myself; thinking that God had obviously created me as some sort of cosmic joke.

My mom always said something that has stuck with me since I was little. She told me that it was okay to take one day to stew in pity and cry. That for one day, you could beat on your pillow, yell, and weep about anything and everything. You didn’t have to wear pants. But the next day, you had to get up and you had to move forward. No more crying. No more pity. I have always taken that advice to heart.

Since I very well couldn’t live with the eagles (as they already have their own family to take care of), it was time to get out of bed and put on my big girl pants—literally and figuratively.

I spent my post-tantrum day in prayer and in God’s word as much as I could. I had enough sense to recognize that I needed to get my heart right with Him—the ultimate creator. I had never had such a violent attack on me, myself, my core, my being.

And here is what God told me through prayer, the reading of His word, and through my PWOC Bible study:

• You have put protective boundaries to combat Satan’s attacks—your children, your ministry, your marriage, your faith, but you forgot about YOU and your purpose! (Ephesians 6:11)
• I have made you with a purpose and you are not a cosmic joke (but you do make me laugh). (Romans 8:28)
• I want you to live a creative, joyful, purposeful, content life through me (Philippians 3:10).
• Seriously? Are you seriously contemplating living with giant birds because of untrue things that other people think/say? (*sarcastic emphasis added) (Proverbs 19:21)

Friends, do not forget to cultivate your life purpose in God. Had I not disregarded the importance of anchoring my purpose in Him, it would not have been so easy for Satan to draw me away. Like my friend Sharita said, in a semi-related event, “sometimes we get to the point when so much crap happens that we want to viciously knock over a table and say, “I QUIT!” …..but more often than not, it is Satan who is messing with our purpose.” He wants us to quit, because if we quit, we halt our purposeful life in Him and stop using those gifts He has given.

It all sounds so obvious and cliché, I know. Live for God. Develop your purpose. Put on pants. However, it was not until last week that I realized that I needed to build a stronger foundation of purpose in my life in order to guard against swaying circumstances (or mean attacks from Satan). Consider intentionally reevaluating your life’s purpose and aligning it with God.

From Calm My Anxious Heart by Linda Dillow:

We must live as women who know the meaning and purpose of life. If we haven’t chosen what we are living for, we’re living by default, acting out the scripts handed to us by family, other people, and the pressures of circumstances. This is not living as a woman who knows the meaning and purpose of life.