Brown is nobody's favorite color. People usually don't clamor to have brown colored rooms or bikes or cars or clothes.
Brown is the color of mud. And baskets. And poo.
It's just not fair. Brown should be someone's favorite color.
Brown is just brown. Lonely, muddy old brown.
It reminded me of when I was 9 years old and, like most little girls my age, The New Kids on the Block were where it was at.
Those smooth moves, those silky prepubescent voices, those boyish good looks!
When my friends and I would giggle around our sleeping bags and practice the dance to "(You've Got The) Right Stuff", we would talk about which member was our favorite. During these conversations, I would respond with "Danny".
Danny was nobody's favorite, so I actually felt a little bit bad for the guy. In the picture above, he is far left in the top one and far right in the bottom one. Danny wasn't the best singer or the best dancer. He wasn't the cutest. He couldn't even pseudo-rap like Donnie. And, let's be honest, when he got older he kind of started to look like a mobster hit man.
I tried and tried to no avail to like Danny. I tried because Danny should be liked…..by somebody!
But nope. I couldn't force it. I really liked Jordan, just like 50% of other girls my age.
Similarly, last spring when I graduated with my masters degree in School Counseling, I knew that I should be looking for full-time school counseling jobs. After all, its crazy to get a masters degree and then……..not immediately use it. Right? Right? Who does that?
I did that. Unabashedly, really. I did that. I knew that more than anything, if our family could afford it, I wanted to stay home with our boys.
However, even though I knew that's what our family wanted, I felt a little "less than" for not doing what the rest of my friends and classmates were doing - nailing down jobs. There were some tears and anxiety as I wrestled with what I felt called to do versus what I felt I should do.
I have been dealing with the question of should lately in my relationship with God. Although I have a close relationship with God, doubt tends to rear its ugly head in my mind when things stop making sense. When things don't go the way they should go, I question why.
My rule following, paint-by-numbers self likes order and loathes chaos.
Most people don't live long in this world before realizing that things often don't go the way that they should.
Parents don't stay married. Loved ones pass away far too young. Children get scarred and abused by adults who are abused and scarred. Sickness. Poverty. Depression. The list goes on.
We ask, "God…why?"
Why is just a fancy should. It's a should with a top hat on.
But when we "should" God, we quickly become bitter. We trust our instincts more than His promises.
Moreover, when we place our "shoulds" above His sovereignty, anger arises in our hearts.
The underlying issue in "shoulding" God is doubting His love. It is doubting that is heart is good toward us. It's forgetting that He promised to never leave or forsake us and to always provide what we need.
Although it feels as though we are simplifying things when we expect them to turn out a certain way, that is a mirage.
Job 38:1-2 "And now, finally, God answered Job from the eye of a violent storm. He said: 'Why do you confuse the issue? Why do you talk without knowing what you are talking about?"
There is nothing more simple than just this: TRUST. GOD.
No more, no less. Trust His plans and His heart and His promises and His love and His sovereignty.
So this is something that I am working on. I am working on throwing away the shoulds for good. After all, our life circumstances do not always need to make sense.
Helen Keller once said, "Life is either a daring adventure or nothing."
That Helen was a smart cookie. She knew that we truly come alive when we let go of the reins of our lives and relax into the breeze of the unexpected.
I am going to stop "shoulding" myself to meet standards that I was never meant to.
I am going to stop "shoulding" God and actively choose to trust Him…..even more so when circumstances don't make sense.
I have fallen often enough into the gracious love of God that I know it will always be enough.
I may never learn to love the chaotic dance of life, but I can fall even more in love with He who orchestrates the steps.
Romans 8:15 says, "This resurrection life you received from God is not a timid, grave-tending life. It's adventurously expectant, greeting God with a childlike 'What's next, Papa?'" (MSG)









