Otherwise Occupied

Tuesday, August 04, 2009 - Comments 3

Over three days I had big plans to inspire women with the truth that, despite the culture’s crazy fixation on appearances, God loves us exactly as we are.  I’d just arrived at the mountains, to lead a weekend women’s retreat, and was preparing for the first evening together in my room.  I probably should have been more prayerful during that pre-gathering window of time, but I had accessories to deal with. 

I was wearing my favorite lime green glasses and cutie green earrings I’d bought on the drive to the retreat.  I tossed on a funky necklace I’d made from yummy green beads that had a white spiral swirl in the middle of each one, then slid my feet into shoes I’d recently gotten for my birthday.  Eco-friendly, they were lime green slides and…wait for it…they had a single white swirl—like the necklace—on the side of each one.  Fantastic, right?  I know, I know.  Wearing blue jeans and a green striped shirt, I convinced myself that I was just like every other woman who’d casually thrown on jeans and a “T” to chillax in the mountains.

I wandered down to the auditorium where the planning team was getting ready.

“Those are awesome glasses,” one woman marveled.  “They go great with your necklace.”

“Thanks,” I smiled.  “I like them, too.”

I slipped out to use the restroom where I bumped into another woman on the retreat. 

“Oh my gosh!  Those shoes are fabulous!  Where did you get them?!” she raved.

“Well,” I began humbly, “my mother-in-law wanted to get me shoes for my birthday and I just kind of found them…” I tried to use a calm voice which gave no indication of how screamy thrilled I was when I actually did come across those great shoes.

“I love your necklace!” said another passing stranger.  That’s when it hit me. 

I looked way too fabulous. 

I really did.  In that horribly complimentary moment, I experienced the stab of painful anguish which Peter must have endured after denying Jesus three times.  Having sworn he’d never do it, Peter had never even seen it coming.  Neither had I.  When the cock crowed about how fantastic my green necklace was though, like Peter, I saw my sin flash before my eyes.

What Went Wrong

It is hard to even know where to begin thinking about what went wrong that night.  Without even realizing it—like a really cute green frog in a slowly-boiling pot of water—I’d been gradually squeezed by the culture’s pressure to look casually fantastic. 

A study out of Duke University coined a term for this very thing—the appearance of looking way too fabulous, and yet as if one hadn’t tried very hard at all—calling it “effortless perfection.” It’s a lie, of course, both the “effortless” and the “perfection,” but I’d played right into it. 

“Whoa, Margot!  Hold up little lady!” you might be thinking.  “I love lime green, and so does Jesus!  I don’t see the problem with looking and feeling good.”

Agreed. 

What was inherently wrong with my evening, though, is that, for most of it, my eyes had been turned upon myself.  I was moving through the world in a way that was entirely self-referenced.  That’s what went most wrong. 

What’s most sinister about our culture’s fixation with beauty, and with my personal one, is that it keeps our eyes turned upon ourselves.  And because everybody from McDonald’s to WalMart encourages us to be all about ourselves, too often we’re like that oblivious frog who doesn’t even realize that her environment is draining the life right out of her.

We were made for so much more.

Made for More

Because we were made to love God and others, Jesus is all about setting us free from a death-dealing preoccupation with self so that we can be for others.  Whether those “others” are friends from church, a neighbor who’s in the hospital, or those around the globe who are hungry, these bodies were created for the purpose of being in relationship with others. 

And here’s the real beauty of the plan: you don’t have to wait until you get your naturally-self-referenced act together.  Great news, huh?  When you take a little baby step to be for others—by calling a friend, or sending a note to someone who’s grieving, or participating in True Campaign’s true:shift—you’re freed up from the kind of self-preoccupation that’s death-dealing.

Hear me: being freed from self doesn’t mean you’re a doormat.  Rather, it means that because Jesus lives in you, you now function as an agent in his building of the new kingdom he ushered in. 

Thankfully, it also doesn’t mean that you can never look extra fruity in lime green again.  (Phew!) It’s not about looking bad.  Instead, it’s about lifting our eyes from our own navels (or noses, or hips, or thighs) and turning our gaze toward others. 

A self-check I like to use is simply to notice where I’m investing my time, my money, and my energy.  (See unfortunate green situation, above, for illustration of what not to do.) When I’m pouring time, money, and energy into my appearance, I realize I’m off track.  And with the baby steps—cooking for an overwhelmed friend, treating a younger woman to coffee, or sewing a cool headband for a niece—it’s just not that hard to get back on track.

Sisters, the opposite of being self-occupied isn’t being unoccupied.  Yuck, boring.  When Jesus casted out demons, he warned that unless that empty space was filled with something else, those demons would come back and bring their friends.  As you’re delivered from a preoccupation with self, you don’t remain “vacant.” Instead, you’re freed up to be otherwise occupied, loving God and others.

We want to hear your stories.  Let us know about the life-giving ways that you, or others, are redirecting time, money, and energy in order to be for others.

Margot

Find out more about Margot and her new book The Girl in the Orage Dress: Searching for a Father Who Does Not Fail.

© Copyright Margot Starbuck 2009