Our friends have a wall in their kitchen that archives the names and heights of loved ones.  If you spend any amount of time at their home you end up with your own pencil mark line etched on this wall.  It’s not about our height really, it’s a way of telling the people they love, ‘you belong; you are family’.   Last week we stopped in and my daughter Faith wanted to show her friend her marks on the wall.  It had been a while.   Moments later she ran to find me, eyes big and bright with excitement.  “Mom! Wow, look how much I’ve grown!  I’m getting so big!”  I’m certain she knows she’s growing, but there is just something about marks on a wall; something about actually looking down over where we previously stood and seeing how far we’ve come.  The evidence of growth seems to bring growth.

I recently had a similar moment.  I am currently participating in a Negativity Fast over this lent season.  It seemed like a natural progression of the journey I have been on of recognizing the power of words; one’s spoken over me and ones that I’ve spoken over myself, my circumstances, and others.  I was enjoying the readings each day, and nibbling on tidbits of Truth about the power of our Words.  Yet a few days in, I had this vague sense I was missing something.  Ah yes, my negative thoughts.  I’m supposed to be policing the tapes playing in my head.  Wait a minute.  Where are they?   I didn’t seem to be bumping into them as if navigating through a crowded subway car.  I started to take a closer look and mentally review my days, skimming through the catalog of encounters, conversations and circumstances of the past few days.    Then my thoughts turned to a very difficult situation I found myself in the midst of and I recalled how I handled a similar situation about 3 years before (not one of my finer moments).   I stopped when I wasn’t finding my old reactions.  The thoughts that used to drive me did not exist as companions.   Really?  Had my thought life changed that much?  As I was pondering this new discovery I felt the presence of God quietly enter the moment.   Then with a smile, He pointed to a pencil line on the wall of my heart and showed me how far I had come.  It stopped me.  I felt His pleasure as He watched me slowly embrace the reality.    Wow.  There’s nothing like a kiss on the cheek saying well done, from a loving Dad.

I know I am a work in progress and am not deluding myself to think that I’ve arrived.  It’s just that we live in these bodies of thoughts every day. We are very familiar with them, sometimes so much so that we don’t recognize the ones we wear daily.  The thoughts that bring life as well as the little buggers that produce fear, self-protection and destruction. Hopefully we all outgrow some thoughts we’ve worn for years;  Lies about others, ourselves, who we are, our ability, value, purpose, size, personality, you name it.  It is a good day when some old thoughts just don’t fit anymore, and an even better day when your Dad smiles and shows you the pencil mark on the wall.

Now, for the sake of authenticity (and so you don’t have the mistaken idea that I consistently rest beside the still waters of Psalms 23), I want to share an entirely antithetical experience.  I know.  We thought I graduated, right?  I don’t know if this ever happens to you, but sometimes more than others it’s as if my to do list, my responsibilities and circumstances all sit together on my bed post in a conspiratorial way tapping their fingers just waiting for me to show signs of life so they can pounce for my attention at the first sign of consciousness.   This.  This was one of those mornings.  It was just an ever so slight shift under my covers that gave me away, and the quietness of the room was quickly accosted by their pleas.  Like desperate needy children hanging on my legs, they all competed for my attention.

I am usually pretty intentional about filtering my thoughts and jettisoning the ones that don’t produce life.  Not this day.  No.  They raced around my head like wild Banshee’s.  “Don’t forget about that appointment, make that call, finish that quote, when are you gonna get this right, what are you going to do about that situation, don’t forget the laundry, send that email, make sure you get Faith’s jeans in the dryer first thing, your just not good at this, don’t forget to order that equipment for the new site, you need to finish your homework, you forgot to clean mom’s apartment again, is Faith ready for the English test, you’re not a good mom, did I turn in the permission slip, you need to see your dad, your not a good daughter, what’s for dinner, your out of milk.  On and on it went.  The floodgate was open.  I couldn’t even stay in bed.  I naively thought to myself, maybe if I get up my thoughts will stay in my room.  Nope.  They followed me – the audacity.

I came downstairs knowing that I really needed to hear from God.  Yet when I began to pray, I didn’t get further than mild wallowing.   I heard Him say, I am bigger.  Worship and rise above.  No, really God, I want to talk.  I need to sort this out, think it through.  You know, understand.   At this point I was listening to some humdingers but they were only bouncing around my mind.  My day was not affected.  My relationships were not affected.  I was standing at the point of decision.  Will I agree with all of this, or get Truths perspective?   Well, before I could get there, my husband woke up.  Poor man.

“Good morning Hun.  What’s up?”  (I know.  You’re cringing right now, aren’t you?)   I said to myself, Maggie, do not verbally throw up all over this man.  You will only have a bigger mess to clean up.   Well, I didn’t listen to God a few minutes earlier, so why would I listen to the smarter version of me?   I started off slow, just sharing the concerns over situations and the to do list, but as it started to come out of me, it gained momentum and also somehow became partly his fault!   I wasn’t thinking that before.  Where did that come from?   Oh my gosh, It’s alive!  As my gentle jabs continued, his eyebrows raised, then he had this enlightened look come over his face.   He said, “Oh, I think I know what’s going on.”  He knew enough not to actually offer his assessment of why I was acting this way.  After all, this was not his first rodeo.

He was gentle and cautious through the morning, offering me lots of space.  He didn’t try to defend himself against my unfair barbs so nothing really escalated beyond my early morning diatribe.  But I felt horrible.  Not just because I wasn’t being a nice person, but I could feel that when I spoke it out something internal happened.  I created something.  Those negative words had life now.  I joined with things that were once just thoughts.  I agreed with things that now fought to be my companions, things about me, my circumstances, and about my husband.  Great.  Now I had self-image issues, a leaky roof in my relational house, a mess to clean up, and a battle with these new companions I really didn’t like.  All before 8am. 

It’s not what you swallow that pollutes your life, but what you vomit up – Jesus

Words.  Man those buggers are powerful.  If only we realized we have either a beautiful vial of Human Growth Hormone, or a deadly bazooka at our disposal, we might be more responsible.  Why couldn’t I just keep my mouth shut?  Ah, the sour taste of regret (soon to be followed with a slice of humble pie).  I am still learning how to sequester lifeless thoughts before they become feelings, then words, then actions, then habits, then me!  At those times, I look up from the mark on the wall and see how small I still am.  But I know how to build.  And rebuild (she said sheepishly), because I have a plumb line in my heart and I know a carpenter (sorry, couldn’t resist).

Just as an earthly plumb line knows true and straight according to the natural laws of gravity and the earths pull, so the heavenly plumb line has spiritual laws that reveal true and straight.  We can disagree with gravity, but we’ll still hurt ourselves if we step off a cliff to test it.   As with spiritual laws, if we think we can do and say what we want, then not take responsibility or clean up our mess, we will be a city with broken down walls that few will take refuge in.

The veneer of life will always rob the authentic.

I have no desire to be a flimsy wooden Hollywood prop that only looks good if you don’t get too close.  I want to be a strong tower that people can take refuge in from this crazy world.  I want people to feel safe inside my heart.  I so desire this plumb line to replace crooked with straight and lies with truth. I want solid walls and strong gates with wise sentry’s standing guard.  I have set my heart to feast on Life, and to have an abundance to offer all those near by.   Thank you Jesus for trusted friends who will speak life over me as well as challenge the crooked and broken down walls in my heart.  Thank you for the wrecking ball and times of courage, and thank you for holding me in the vulnerable times when the old is gone and I’m not quite sure how to walk out the new.  And thank you that in the midst of all of this,  you come unexpectedly with a smile and show me those marks on the wall of my heart.