Thursday, February 13, 2014

Dizzy D

It's not that I'm an exceptionally organized person.

In fact, I am an exceptionally disorganized and messy individual, given to bouts of forgetfulness and stacks of who-knows-what laying around.

You should have seen my room when I was a kid. There were literally paths through all the junk on the floor. Piles of laundry on every horizontal surface. Shoes thrown into the bottom of the closet. Desk drawers filled with everything I couldn't find to put somewhere else.

Obviously, paths through all the junk don't work unless you want to be the next contestant on Hoarders: The Messy Truth. Which I don't.

I don't like visual clutter and chaos. When you have a brain like mine, it's difficult to filter the world at large; therefore, everything you see stimulates your brain. It's not that we have a shortage of attention; it's that we pay too much attention to everything.
This is why, even though my natural inclination is to leave my things lying around the house, I am fanatical about having them picked up. Mine and everyone else's, too. This is also why I love a label-maker. When something has a label on it, which my refrigerator and my kitchen cabinets do, it means that my things have a spot. And when my things have a spot, it's much more difficult for the cabinets or the refrigerator to look cluttered and messy.


Growing up, I was always really ashamed of my inability to process information like the other kids. My school did test after test, trying to figure out what was "wrong" with me (because clearly, when you have a child that doesn't conform to the norm, something is wrong), and they weren't really kind about it. I felt different. I couldn't memorize my math facts. I didn't read out loud very well (a fact my second grade teacher scathingly pointed out in front of my entire class, because I could read faster in my head than I could out loud), and I even though I found social studies and science to be somewhat interesting, I couldn't commit to memorizing all those facts and figures for the test. I found it difficult to be motivated to do something that I was not particularly interested in, even when there was a consequence for not doing that thing.  I didn't learn like the other kids in school, and when people started teasing me about being a dumb blond, I just went along with it. (My middle school gym teacher nicknamed everyone, and mine was Dizzy. Because obviously Ditzy would have been offensive.)

For God gave us not a spirit of fear
but of love, power and a sound mind.
2 Timothy 1:7
 
 The first time I heard this verse, I thought it was a joke.
 
I still inhibit myself in many ways. I don't let my creativity flow like I wish it did, oftentimes because I don't believe I have what it takes to be creative. I let myself get caught up in other things that don't matter as much but seem very, very important in the moment--like weight, appearance and perfection.
My goals this year are to be more generous, have a persistent faith, and take the focus off of myself. But it's hard to do any of things when I'm hyper-focused on the things I think are wrong about me instead of embracing the way God made me and moving on.
 
It requires more than reading a verse; it requires trust. A trust that my life is more than being Dizzy. More than being creative. It's about freedom from my own condemning thoughts and a life-long dependence on the One who made all of us with a purpose.

No comments:

Post a Comment