Thursday, February 9, 2012

Sweet

This word has been tumbling around in my mind and heart for several days.  Years ago a man I know described a mutual friend as being sweet.  I knew instantly that this same man would never have described me with that word, and I said so.  He kind of shrugged his shoulders in acquiescence.  Anyone who knows me for any length of time knows I am not sweet.  I am stubborn and have fight in me.  I can be sarcastic and snarky, though I have improved on that over the years.  I do cuss and have a temper.  I am not sweet.

But, oh, how I wish to be!!  I want to be sweet smelling to my Lord.  I want others to meet me and see only His sweetness come out of me.  If I had one wish, it would be to be seen as sweet.  I have been thinking a lot lately how I fall so short of this standard.  I haven’t talked about it because it sounds trite and shallow, but for me it is the opposite.  I try to chalk it up to cyclical hormones, because they are so easy to blame.

I went to a women’s prayer meeting yesterday.  I have been meaning to go for a year, but always have a good excuse to miss out on the monthly gathering.  Yesterday, ten minutes before the meeting I saw a reminder go through.  I wasn’t even dressed yet, since it was waffle and bedding day.  But I got myself ready, barely believing that I was actually going to go.

I saw some old friends, which was a great treat, and saw ladies I know from church, which helped me feel more at home.  I sat with two young ladies who made me feel comfortable.  One of them had been homeschooled, so we chatted about that for a while.  They led the music time and I was blown away by their gift for leading worship.  The speaker (who was also homeschooled) was dynamic and relatable.  She had some wonderful words of wisdom that were inspired.

Then the microphone was being handed around.  People were to share about how some lie was making them feel too fearful to step out in faith.  I felt like I should raise my hand and share.  I feel so fearful about going to new events in this town because of all the people who don’t think I am sweet!  It sounds silly and ridiculous, but there it is.  In my head, I was screaming, “I want to be sweet!”  But I never raised my hand.  I had good reasons.  The meeting had gone way past the two-hour session.  Others were raising their hands and sharing.  I missed my chance.

But, then the lady sitting next to me at the table suddenly jerked her head to the side and shoved her chair to the side, apologizing for having her back to me the whole time.  I laughed and waved her off; we were both facing the center of the group.  I hadn’t felt slighted.  Then she said, “You have this sweet spirit that has been hitting my back the whole meeting and I want it to hit my face.”  …  I was speechless and nearly broke into outright sobs.  I leaned forward and touched her shoulder.  I asked if she really meant that. 

I worked to pull myself together.  I thanked God for this gift.  Then I thought, ‘she thinks I am sweet because she has never heard me open my mouth!’  The Liar can be incorrigible. 

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