The Birmingham Buzz: Pardon Me, Mind if I Stare?

I am a sideways-looker.

A comparer. A wisher for the (positive) attributes you have...that I lack.

I am also a perfectionist.

I am overly analytical. (Typical internal dialogue: "Did she just look at me weird? I think she did! And what did she mean by that comment? Odd comment + strange look.   Conclusion: most likely she hates me.")

Sometimes I am hyper-critical of both myself and others.

I am emotional and dramatic and (a tinge) sarcastic.

This is not the full complement of my attributes, just the ones that I trip over from time to time.

And it is easy to wish them away and create in my mind the perfect(ly unattainable) version of Sandra--the one who plunges boldly through life, secure in the strength of her own convictions, looking neither to the left nor to the right.

This Sandra chuckles over her innocent mistakes and the blunders of others. She doesn't torture herself with endless replays of projects gone bad, poorly chosen words, and impulsive parenting decisions.

She doesn't spend hours parsing past conversations in her head, dissecting the words, deeds, and intentions of friends, relatives, and countrymen...and authors, politicians, theologians, film makers, song-writers, radio commentators, newspaper columnists, and casual acquaintances.

She is able to sit back and enjoy the sight of five children let loose in a kitchen (or sitting amidst a pile of laundry, or armed with mops and buckets) without offering a constant stream of advice and correction.

No hovering! No pursing of the lips! No heart palpitations over the fact that things aren't being done "her way".

Sandra, Version 2.0 has all the bugs worked out! Tears are better controlled. She never makes a scene. And even when she sees a perfect opening for a snarky comment or a sly dig, she keeps her trap shut.

Or--could it be possible that some of the tendencies I so dislike in myself are in fact gifts, intended to be used for the glory of God?

There is no question that the desire to please others, and the tendency to compare myself to others can be perverted into a form of self-torture, but could it not also be redeemed as a tool of inspiration and aspiration?

Those of us who are quick to notice the good attributes of others, are apt to use our observations to try to improve ourselves. Isn't that a good thing?

We "sensitive types" are able to keenly feel the power of the words of others--and so we could become skilled in using our own words for comfort and encouragement.

Perfectionism is another conundrum to consider. It can easily devolve into a critical spirit, but it seems like God might rather have intended it to be a vehicle of order and beauty.

Just imagine a world without the skill of the architect who wrestles hard with numbers and angles in an effort to create a structure with perfect form and function.

Consider the surgeon who can focus for half a day on one square inch of flesh and blood until every tiny fiber is lined up perfectly. Ought we not be thankful for the gift of perfectionism in medicine?

How about the artist and the miracle that comes from striving for hours in front of a canvas or a screen?

Or the decorator who can see a million details in a room (or a whole house) and arrange them all to strike the eye in the most pleasing fashion?

Or how about the homeschool Mom who doesn't allow perfectionism to make a slave of her, but instead uses it to find joy in trying to bring symmetry and grace and beauty to a thousand little tasks in her home every day? (My goal. Not necessarily my reality at this point:)

Every gift this side of Eden comes with an evil twin.

The skill of being able to analyze words and arguments can be used to speak the truth in love, with clarity and conviction. Or it can be twisted into sneering arrogance.

Emotional sensitivity is essential to having sympathy with others. A tender spirit is often paired with ministering hands.

On the other hand, a person who allows herself to be continually overcome by her emotions will quickly descend into a spiral of self-pity and self-absorption.

Having a dramatic flair is one way of getting people's attention--God actually demonstrates His quite a bit! We creatures can use it to draw people's eyes to things that ought to be noticed--injustice, great need, opportunities for service, the horror of sin, the joy in beauty, the sorrow of pain, ...and most importantly, our desperate need for God in all of it.

Or we can become attention grabbing divas.

Even satire was meant to be a gift! I know this because Jesus used it. (As in, "Get the plank out of your eyeball!")

The prophets used it. (My favorite example being Elijah and the prophets of Baal.)

Paul used it with the Corinthians (4:8-13).

It is a powerful method of drawing attention to an absurd situation for the purpose of affecting change in one's audience.

The perversion of it would, of course, be malice or cruelty couched in clever words for the purpose of tearing someone down for one's own benefit.

All this is not to say that I should look at my full range of natural tendencies and find the silver lining in all of them. (No, gluttony is NOT just an enthusiastic appreciation for food, nor is laziness the kind of rest that Christ gives to the "weary and heavy laden".)

But neither should I wish for the removal of the amalgamation of quirks and characteristics which make me uniquely ME.

As long as they are not defined as "sin", I should not kick against them or wish them away, but rather pray that they will be purified and used--redeemed for the intents and purposes which God created for them to accomplish in my life for His glory.

That means not wishing away my ever-increasing weepiness or the fact that I can't go to bed with dishes in the sink or towels on the floor. It means thinking and re-thinking my little thoughts, and arranging and re-arranging my words, and laying a pretty table, and helping my boys learn how to "properly" fold their socks, and talking wildly with my hands.

And it might even mean looking sideways sometimes.

And so, dear Lord, please use those sidelong glances, and my intense appreciation for order and beauty, and my desire to carve up and chew on words and conversations, my attention to detail, my emotions and sensitivity, my sense of irony, and my appreciation for the dramatic to accomplish Your purposes in this corner of creation.

Forgive me when I take Your gifts and corrupt them for my benefit.

Forgive me when I call Your gifts a burden.

And remind me to rejoice in the work of Your hands.