GIFT OR GRIND
We have this running joke in our house. It's about Lola. She's our 14-year-old Shih Tzu. Yeah, she’s like 98, but she can still kill us with those ASPCA “poster child” eyes every time we leave her.
“Don't turn around . . . don't look back . . . don't be like Lot’s wife,” someone'll say.
We all kinda chuckle because we know the temptation to linger, to pacify Lola (and our guilt) just a little bit longer before we finally let the door close in her face. We feel bad for her, and for ourselves. Well, because . . . that face. That sweet, helpless little face.
I do love our little girl, but I’m not a dog lover per se; not like my family. I can walk away. I have no problem not looking back.
“She’s a dog,” I say. “She’ll be fine. She has no concept of time, anyway.” They don't buy it.
Whether that’s true or not, my family thinks I’m a little cold for my indifference. I’m not too bothered.
But, I started thinking about my attitude toward this little creature. Convicted? A little, maybe. Like I said, I love her. She is the cutest thing, but she is the most high maintenance dog I’ve ever known. Special prescription food, special shampoo, special medications for her skin, for her eyes, for her ears. On and on it goes. And we all know special means expensive. She’s old—I get it. But this stuff has been going on for a decade.
“Its her breed,” they say.
Whoopee. Fine.
But what about her need to have ice cubes in her water? Or her canned food microwaved? Or smooth jazz streaming through the T.V. music channel while we’re gone? This dog may be adorable, but I think we have a problem here.
Except one thing; I forbid Rick to buy one of those dog steps for next to our bed. Call me heartless, but that’s just weird.
I suppose its no wonder she gives us (not me—my family and especially my husband) those sad eyes when we leave her. She’s got it made. So she works it. Or rather, she works him. (Arrow pointing up to the words "my husband".) She sees he's a sucker for dogs and for the most part he tends to her every whim. It started out sweet. But he's created a monster; a fourteen pound, yellow feather wearing (I'm assuming because her name is Lola it automatically gets her the diva treatment from the groomer) monster who's entire identity revolves around him.
Yet, I can relate. Though I know my identity is in Jesus Christ I have gotten caught up in the attention of others too. A lot of attention equals valuable. A little attention, not so much. And the rollercoaster begins. Without seeing it coming, I'm swooped into the cycle of measuring my worth by the level of attention and approval I receive.
Am I of any value to their circle of friends? Do they care about what I think? Have I been a good enough, fun enough, godly enough person to keep around?
This is when the beautiful gift and authentic enjoyment of relationships becomes a grind. How can I elevate my worth? Oh the drudgery of it all.
Even my relationship with the Lord. It's a gift. He is a gift. The true gift. The ultimate Gift-giver gives Himself. In love and mercy, God gave His Son for me and He chose me. Not because I was worthy of being chosen, but because I was chosen, I am made worthy.
But from time to time I fall back into thinking my self worth is gaged by my performance with Him too.
Do I satisfy God to the standard He requires? Do I stay long enough with Him in my quiet time or am I too quick to leave? Is Jesus, like Lola, watching me with lonely and rejected eyes as I walk away? Does my occasional indifference toward the things that matter to God only prove I am cold and heartless?
The guilt. The shame. The condemnation. My natural reaction—make it up to the Lord. Cover up my lack. Perform. And then it starts to happen: the gift becomes a grind. But it’s not supposed to be that way.
If the Lord were like Lola . . . or like me, I’d have to play Him a nice song to soothe His forlorn feelings. Heaven forbid. To pity God is foolish. And where I go really wrong is when I think my love and attention toward Him makes Him worthy. If that were true, my God would be small. And neurotic.
Thank God His worth isn’t based on humanity. And that’s exactly why I love Him so much. As incomplete as my love for Him is today, I am learning to rest in our glorious relationship because it is built on Jesus Christ alone. God-initiated, God-sustained and God-perfected. And worthy of all I am.
. . . . . .
Father, please forgive me for ever laying on others and myself the expectation to define Your worth. And forgive me for expecting other people to define mine. You alone are God. Amen.
4 But God, being rich in mercy, because of His great love with which He loved us, 5 even when we were dead in our transgressions, made us alive together with Christ (by grace you have been saved), 6 and raised us up with Him, and seated us with Him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, 7 so that in the ages to come He might show the surpassing riches of His grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. 8 For by grace you have been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God; 9 not as a result of works, so that no one may boast. 10 For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand so that we would walk in them. EPHESIANS 2:4-10