I match my socks to my t-shirt...
Everyday.
If I can even possibly begin to help it.
Lesser known fact: my underwear must also match.
To both my socks and my t-shirt...
If I can even possibly begin to help it.
Whole outfits have been changed on the basis of one missing
sock.
I’ve had mini meltdowns (normally about the time laundry
becomes a desperate situation) because I can’t quite put together the right
combination.
There is this little part of me that legitimately, (though
the ridiculousness even as I admit it to myself reaches preposterous heights),
has a bit of internal anxiety well up inside on days I choose to leave the
house without proper coordination.
I wish I were joking...
I wasn’t always like this.
I mean, I’m sure I always had plenty of odd quirks and I
know I’ve gone through plenty of strange obsessions... (For example, my
affinity for VeggieTales and the right shade of neon green during my high
school years could and should go nearly unnamed).
Yet this strange compulsion isn’t quite five years old.
I can tell you almost precisely when it began. The right search for the right journal entry
and I could even give you a date...
The details which surround are unnecessary. But I do recall quite vividly the fact
several pieces of my life were starting to spiral. I was slowly but surely loosing the grasp of a
couple items which always before made me feel like I had control. The whirlwind inside flared with impressive
fury. And then one day, as life would
have it, everything matched. For the
first time that day I was filled with such relief. I remember extensive pleasure in the
perfection of the ensemble. I also remember very little deliberate and
immediate focus on such past that exact moment.
It would be several weeks before I realized I had been subconsciously
and unintentionally designing my wardrobe choices around such a
phenomenon. In would be several more
before it was a daily and purposeful decision.
It was and is innocent and simple enough. I chose a piece of my life – hidden and
unknown, a piece for which no one could have an opinion or a say, a place which
caused neither the world nor me any harm – and I created a power center around
it. Only I knew that the pieces pulled
themselves together. Only I needed to
know. It gave me a sense of control at
an uncertain time. When all else seemed
chaotic – it was one thing I could guarantee was right about my day. And for whatever psychological reason, many
days...it was enough.
This is a long and somewhat precarious story and confession
with which to lead off. Though if you’re
familiar with my blog probably not at all surprising or unexpected. And yet, why is it I share this detail? Well, because it seems relevant. Relevant because matching my socks and
underwear to my t-shirts is on many days enough – but lately, not even
close. Relevant because it’s not
uncommon in my blogs (when I write them that is...) to breach topics of control
and subsequent surrender. Relevant
because it turns out I really love to have a sense of control (when I can’t
over one area, it plays out in another) and I really struggle with the
surrender that should be happening as a result...
I wasn’t always like this...
[Or maybe I was. Life has a way or rewriting memories
sometimes]. As a child, I liked to envision myself a free spirit. I was goofy and sarcastic and unruly and
curious and creative and I was pretty sure all of that meant boundaries were
what I made them. But I think I always
enjoyed putting the lines on my boundaries, even then...
Regardless, when I look back, for quite some time now, mostly what I see is a pile of ducks.
Emphasis on the pile.
I would love to see them in nice, straight lines.
Rows would be preferable.
Not my ducks though.
My ducks like to be in piles.
I don’t know the last time I’ve felt like my ducks have
really all been in a row...
So I go back to grasping for control and looking for thicker
socks to be worn in the winter and still match the day’s outfit to somehow feel
a semblance of having the pieces of my life in order...
It’s harder than it looks.
And maybe also unnecessary.
About a year ago (I think), my brother, Caleb, and I were
talking about life. Life such as this
where the ducks are undoubtedly deaf, mute, and blind (and also struggling with
one leg which is just enough shorter than the other as to propel them naturally
in circles rather than lines). It was
then Caleb mentioned his own desire to have t’s crossed and i’s dotted in
life. (A task harder some days than
others...) In the midst of our conversation Caleb noted how some days he felt
like the best he did ended with him crossing his i’s and dotting his t’s.
Still he ended with this profound truth:
“Except, what I’m realizing, Anika...” Caleb told me on the
phone, “...is even though I’m crossing my i’s
and dotting my t’s...either way I’m
still ending up with i’s and t’s.”
Our conversation continued to explore this mind-shattering
breakthrough. Though it was true the resulting i’s and t’s may end up seemingly out of place in some cases, not at all
where we wanted or planned them to go, the product was still the same. A t
crossed and an i dotted leaves me
with t’s and i’s. A t dotted and an i crossed
leaves me with i’s and t’s.
The result is equal. All that has
really changed is the journey.
I’m reminded of the story of Joseph... Now there is a guy
who seems like he learned a few things about deaf, mute, blind, and tilted
ducks. (For a full account of Joseph, check out Genesis 37-50). I don’t think you could convince Joseph to
tell you that life went the way he planned...(although curiously for Joseph at
least...perhaps in fact the way he dreamed?).
I wonder how many questions Joseph was left with at the end of the
day. How did he deal with the
uncertainty of God’s plan and provision (although clearly knowing the certainty
of God’s hand upon his life?) in the midst of it all?
“Dear Scroll Diary,
Here I am in prison again. I mean, if
you count the hole my brothers threw me in the first time. I thought Potiphar was really starting to
trust me. It was like I was more than a
slave. But his wife...she’s....well, I
guess using that word isn’t
becoming. *sigh*. I thought things were really beginning to
look up. I know the Lord is with me
but...right now all I see are a pile of ducks!”
Yet, as Genesis draws to a close, Joseph affirms the
Greater. He reassures his brothers with
the words: “You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish
what is now being done...” (Genesis 50:20)
Honestly, Joseph could have pegged a lot on his
brothers. Their bullying and badgering
and eventual sale of his personhood got the ball rolling on even worse
situations. This was not the dream God
had given to Joseph. And yet each step
along the way brought Joseph closer to the life God had in store. In the end, it looked like Joseph had all of
his ducks in nice neat rows. In reality those rows are the result of a journey of dotted t’s and crossed i’s. God revealed not only
His plan but the fullness of the dreams given.
The realities of every seemingly out of place “i” and “t” now fit
perfectly into place when considered from the end.
I don’t always want to wait until the end. In fact I rarely want to wait. I wish I could at least get my ducks to learn
a little sign language to hint at what row they are headed towards. I like nice dots over i’s and proper crosses on t’s. But instead I’m left relishing my perfectly
matched socks. But I can come to a sigh of relief realizing God's faithfulness is far more certain than matching underwear. More than that, I’m
looking to see where God is putting the crosses on i’s and dots on t’s in
such a way as to take the life that doesn’t make sense [to me] and use it for His
purposes and His glory. Perhaps one day down the line I’ll round up my ducks and sit them
down and we will look back and see how just maybe my life, with every out of place crossed i and dotted t, will get used to “accomplish
what is now being done...”
