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Self-grace and Boot Camp

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© Andriusha | Dreamstime Stock Photos & Stock Free Images

© Andriusha | Dreamstime Stock Photos & Stock Free Images

As I’ve written before, I often struggle to find the balance between the search for excellence and self-acceptance.  I want to be the best possible version of myself I can be, but the minute I make it all official and declare, “I shall now be my best self!” I immediately curse out the driver in front of me, shove a donut in my mouth, blow off my workout, snap at my kids and put off unloading the dishwasher by surfing Facebook.  For three hours.

But on the other hand, my best is often not good enough.  I’ve lost a lot of weight and do crazy workouts that many people are not just unwilling to do — they are flat out afraid to do them — yet I still feel hatred for my un-flat belly.  I will coordinate a huge service day at church in which hundreds of volunteers come out and serve on various service projects, yet I will still call myself “not capable”.  I will have a green smoothie for breakfast and pretzels and chocolate for lunch.

Somewhere in the middle of those two paragraphs is a place of self-grace.

You know, if a guy like Jesus can show me grace, maybe I owe it to Him to show myself some, too.  He was, after all, willing to be tortured, murdered and mocked so that I would get the point.

It’s in the place in the middle where I can get bigger.  You know that saying — I can’t remember who said it — about how our real fear isn’t that we aren’t powerful enough, but rather that we are so powerful, it scares us?  Well, yeah.  That.

Man, when we step into that place where we give our life to God and say, okay, make me who you want me to be, well.  Like the Marines He will strip you down to the end of yourself until the only thing you can see is Him.  He asks you to see.  All that stuff you try very hard not to see, the way you don’t look at the projects when you drive down the Parkway.  He asks you to look, and to look hard.  Look at the thing that’s hard to look at and then stick your hands in there and get all sticky doing it.  Get down on your belly in the mud and get to it.  And something happens.

You get bigger inside.  Not more sure of yourself.  But bigger inside.  Still wobbly and scared a little and never really ready (so don’t get too cocky) but bigger inside.  Because now God has gotten into you and He’s expanding you from the inside out, stretching you out like a balloon, and you know it’s not you.  It’s Him.  It’s Him being bigger inside you.

It’s kinda freaky.

This is a big week for me.  I’m filming the “elevator pitch” short film for The Big Idea this week.  I’m nervous and excited and scared.  I’ve also made an offer to a phenominal woman to be the Executive VP of this new company we’re starting.  Every time I thought about a high capacity role I needed filled, her name was the first to come to my mind.  So I made an offer and I’m not-so-patiently waiting while this powerhouse thinks it over.

We’ll be incorporating soon and starting a capital campaign and crowdfunding.  Scary stuff!!!

But I’m excited.  And scared.  And getting bigger inside.

And that’s not boring.

I’m going to link this weekend’s talk by Robert Owens to this blog post.  If you’re not the church going type, that’s cool.  I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised by this talk — Robert Owens is a special ops guy who chases down the bad guys in sexual slavery.  He adopted a twenty-six year old Buddhist monk as his son.  He taught leadership skills to the communist party to help them solve their issues around sexual slavery.  He’s an Iron Man triathelete and hates when Christians walk around saying, “Praise God,” all the time.  I promise.  I think you’ll like him.


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Sold out Jesus-freak, mom of 2, wife, Christian Life Coach and speaker, friend-in-need-of-grace, writer of stuff.

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