Tip of My Iceberg

I’m good with admitting that there are many things in life that I’m not.

I’m not a detail person. Which can be problematic for family and team members as I lose those slippery little boogers (details) like it’s my job.

I’m not good with decorating. Five months after our house was renovated with new floors and paint, the walls are still bare. The pictures and such are stacked in a pile in a bedroom I choose not to enter.

And I’m not handy. HGTV handy. I have no pink tool belt. And no desire for one.

Problem is, my dear husband isn’t either.

Tiffany and Ramsay, my daughter and son-in-law, were with us for a few days. It was a working trip, so they were in and out. But one afternoon, as Ramsay went to the pantry for pita chips, he tried to close the door. And it wouldn’t budge.

It hadn’t budged in five months.

I was working on emails and glanced over as he slowly opened and closed the door as far as it would go.

Then he went to the garage.

I heard him move things around, puttering with noise.

And he came back in, holding an electric drill.

Which I didn’t know we had.

“What’re you doing?” Obvious question.

“I’m gonna fix this door so it closes.” Great answer.

It took less than a minute to whirl an errant screw that hadn’t been turned all the way.

The door shut. Wow.

I’ve been ignoring that little problem for five months.

I didn’t try. I didn’t know we had the tools available to make it work. (A philips head screwdriver would have been just as effective. Didn’t even consider it.)

It’s not that I couldn’t. I just had this voice stuck in my head: “You can’t fix that.”

Even though I’m quite aware of what I have no talent, gift or aspiration to do, I too often listen to that negative little voice in my head that badgers me with, “You can’t do it anyway. Why try?”

Those lies, like old tapes, play over and over in my head. Things that may have been said in the past that aren’t really true, names that stuck, comments I took to heart. So I keep listening.

“You’ll never be good enough.”

“You’ll make a fool of yourself if you try.”

“You’re going to fail. You always fail.”

None of those are true, but I often act like they are. Because they’re stuck in my head.

And I can’t fix those tapes on my own.

I need to fill my mind with what Jesus says about me.

“This means that anyone who belongs to Christ has become a new person. The old life is gone; a new life has begun.”                                         2 Corinthians 5:17

I’m not the person those lies say I am. I’m new. Changed. By love. By God.

I need to act like that new person. Hopeful. Ignoring the lies. Allowing His love to reshape me. His words to define me.

Bring on the tools. I’m ready for my renovation.