Free to Grow

Three.

After tonight, that's how many blogs I'll have left before Lent is o-veeeerrr. (I wrote that in the Pauly Shore voice. Did you catch that?)

At the moment, I have 50 ideas in the five-sentence stage, and I'm running out of words.

Plus I have an interview on Tuesday, so my brain is basically Animal trying not to think about drums. 

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When I interviewed for my first official job at a school, the principal saw my Bible college degree and had a few questions. He wanted to know my intentions; I told him I didn't plan to teach Sunday school at work, and he laughed. He was a warm-hearted Presbyterian, and he was relieved.

Thinking back on that, I wonder if I could've answered better.

The truth is, the life of the Christian should be fruitful. And things like joy and patience, kindness and faithfulness make great employees. It's totally cool to be peaceful and self-controlled, even at work. 

That's the deal with fruit: It can go with you. 

But most of the time, I don't look much like love and joy and peace. Most of the time, even my strengths are weaknesses.

I'm a natural editor, for instance. Need someone to notice the tiny spot on your shirt, or to fix your church bulletin that says, "Your welcome here"? I'm on it. And that's good, but it means I'm a critic, too. 

I'm task-oriented. But I can be demanding. I'm focused, but sometimes I miss what's important. I'm logical, but I can seem cold.

And those things aren't the fruit of the Spirit. They're the fruit of my own life - the desire to do things for myself, and the drive not to ask for help. 

They're what happens when I won't admit my need. And good fruit doesn't come from us, anyway. Branches only bear fruit when they're connected to the vine. 

And when we know that, we're finally free just to grow. 

Leaning in harder,
Becki*