$ense…and Sensibility

They said I was a granddaddy’s girl.

And they were right.

My Papa introduced me to the Atlanta Braves, The Price Is Right, and Hershey’s.

Back when days were long and times were innocent, we’d sit in his living room, watching television – him from the couch and me from the chair across from him.  Even-tempered and calm-demeanored, he’d only get excited when it came to baseball or bids.

Also sweet-toothed and sugar-crazed, chocolate was always as close to him as the latest edition of the TV Guide.  Even though he kept a stash of Milky Ways in his side table, every afternoon as he walked me back to his house from school, he’d stop at the neighborhood convenient store to buy me whatever candy bar I wanted.

Yeah, they said I was a granddaddy’s girl.

And yeah, they were right.

Back when days were long and times were innocent, I’d sit with him on his front porch.  There he rocked, with Prince Albert tobacco smoke billowing from the pipe that hung from the corner of his mouth.  And tucked into the chest pocket of his Liberty overalls, was his time-worn, leather wallet.  Other than perhaps my grandmother, I was the only person that he allowed to touch that wallet.

There and then, long before digital dollars, my Papa also introduced me to money.  It wasn’t uncommon for him to give me money for my birthday or for Christmas or for a good report card.  But sometimes, randomly, he would give me money for no apparent reason.  And oftentimes that was in the form of a $50 bill.  I would be so proud to go home and stuff that big, green bill into my little, yellow bank.  For a young girl in elementary school — that only wanted money for Barbies from Ben Franklin and books from Scholastic fairs — $50 was a lot of money. 

Not only did he give me money, but in his wisdom, he also showed me how to safeguard it for use: to rub each dollar to make sure that it didn’t stick to any others, to never let a cashier know how much money I had in my hand, and to keep my bills in value order, starting with the largest.

Now, thinking back, I realize that Papa’s giving wasn’t random or without reason at all.  I believe that he gave to show me that I was loved…to show me that I was taken care of…to show me that I was valued.

“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear.  Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes?  Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.  Are you not much more valuable than they?” – Matthew 6:25-26 NIV

We’re friends here, right?  Sisters?  Well, let me be honest with you.  Over the last several months, as my birthday drew nigh and I inched closer to the age of 50, I realized that I didn’t place the same value on the number 50 as I had when I was five. 

Let me explain. 

Ideally, my life’s harvest would have begun in my twenties, sowing the seeds of college and career, and then anticipating their watering in my thirties, with marriage and motherhood.  The bountiful fruit of finances and family would’ve come forth in my forties.  

But at 50, because my life hadn’t gone or grown as I’d planned, I felt devalued, as if I hadn’t measured up. 

Can you relate?  Do you feel like that too sometimes?  Do you ever live in the tension between time and its tangibility? 

Now, when days feel fleetingly short and times increasingly wary, are there areas of your life where you think that you haven’t produced enough?  Done enough?  Been enough?  Do you question your value as a wife and mother?  As a woman?  Do you question your marketplace or ministerial worth?  When you sum up the years, do you feel as though you’ve come up short? 

Because this season of your life looks different than you’d planned and prayed, do you wonder if you’ve wasted time?  Or perhaps, if somewhere along the way, you were robbed?  

So often, as women, we quantify our value extrinsically, seeking validation through factors that we can see: the pounds on our scales, the square footages of our homes, the dates on our birth certificates, the sizes of our bank accounts, or the numbers of our followers and their likes.

Don’t get me wrong.  Those things have their places, of course, and at times, do need our consideration.  But Sis, are we focusing on the wrong things?  What if God is trying to shift our perspectives?  I believe that He wants us to see what He sees, and that is, that our value is intrinsic and intangible, and therefore, immeasurable; that we’re qualified, simply by the deposit of Himself in us (2 Corinthians 1:21-22 NIV). 

So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.  Psalm 90:12 KJV

So, you may be wondering…  What has 50 taught me?  Well, let me tell you. 

I’m learning that Abba Father, the Ancient of Days, doesn’t use time or measure worth the way that we do.  God, in His wisdom (sense), is much more concerned with bringing forth the fruit of His Spirit in us, than He is with how we feel (sensibility).  I’m learning that although our feelings are valid, they don’t always reveal the truth of our value.  Only spending time in God’s Word can do that.  

We want our lives, our situations, to make sense.  But our sense is not God’s.  His ways are not ours.  His “sense,” His wisdom, is far greater than our own.  Thus, His timing and its requirement of our faith and patience, often leave us worn and discouraged at our progress.  Perception can blur perspective.    

But time isn’t an indicator of value.  Time is merely the season in which our yield is maturing.

In our feelings of frustration and impatience, though, we often can’t see it.

As God’s girls, when we assess ourselves based on what He’s said about us, and through what we have access to through the Cross, we can walk boldly as God’s investments in the Earth.

Maybe principles extracted from the lessons that I learned from my Papa can show us how God might be safeguarding us for His use:

1. Our values are singular.  Jeremiah 1:4-5
2. Our values are secure.  Matthew 10:29-31
3. Our values are special.  I Peter 2:9

So, Sis, I ask you…. What would a sensible, valuable life look like for you?

I recently heard my pastor, Dr. Dharius Daniels, say this: “Time is currency.”  Spend wisely.

PRINCIPLE: “So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’  For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them.  But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.” – Matthew 6:31-33 NIV