eat pray love – God is in the Outcome

I’m reflecting this morning on the word “meek.”

Matthew 5:5, in the Beatitudes, says “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.”

Previously, to me, meek would have been interpreted as weak, passive, or timid. None of these are words that strike a chord of longing, typically. We don’t strive to be “meek” if that is our interpretation of the word.

But some study through various sources today taught me something different.

First, I went to my Dictionary app which instructed that the definition of meek is the following:

Humbly patient or quiet in nature, as under provocation from others.
Submissive or compliant; tame
Gentle; kind

Besides the fact that the world typically looks at the world “submissive” as a bad word, these are all things we might strive to be. And even more so after the other things I read.

For the record, the definition of submissive in the dictionary includes “unresistant or humbly obedient” and “yielding to the authority of another.” While I have authority in the name of Christ, that is all due to submitting to His own authority, (doing my best to be) being obedient to His authority.

I learned today that, in Matthew 5:5, the English word translated as meek comes from the Greek word “praeis.” It means gentle, humble, or submissive; modest, mild, or unpretentious.”

The very first thing that struck me about this explanation was: my husband, Scott, was meek.

He was truly gentle, humble, submissive (in the appropriate situations – to God, to work leadership, and to the needs of others.) He was modest, mild, and the most unpretentious person I know. Although it’s hard to be prententious when people are teasing you (in a good-natured fashion) about your Baker County accent! 🙂

When I was young, these are not things I looked for in a partner or in myself. I wanted to be powerful within myself, to be in control of my surroundings and my situations, to be who I was unashamedly. But I don’t like some parts of who I was then (although that was a process of learning and growing that we go through) and I learned – usually the hard way because that’s how I roll 🙄 – that we are rarely “in control” even when we think we are. Things that we are unable to control can take us to our knees in literally the span of a heartbeat and we are forced to recognize our vulnerability to outside influences. To a drunk driver, to cancer, to words or actions of heartless people and unkindness.

It took a lot of growing up, spiritually and emotionally, to learn that Scott was exactly what I wanted and needed. I thought God sent me Scott to make me happy. I’m sure that was part of it because I know He wants all of the best things for me. And oh, glory, did he make me happy. But I learned that God had another purpose in that beautiful gift I called a soulmate. I learned that I needed to be more like Scott in many ways. I still want to be and I’m working on it, albeit slowly and with backtracking on some days.

If you’re looking for a partner now, you want God to send you someone who is all of these things (and recognize that person for these reasons.) Maybe today that isn’t what you think you want right now but I assure you that your whole world will flourish under the influence.

Allow someone to walk into your life who has traits of beauty that you don’t see enough of in yourself. Someone whose very existence urges you to be more like them.

I always admired Scott for his patience with me. Don’t laugh; I know y’all probably already know it’s true. When I am hungry (especially) or overly exhausted or stressed, I’m far from meek. I’m testy, grouchy, and definitely not patient.

The night my nephew died, just sixteen days before Scott did, I was mean to him. I couldn’t get packed and in the car fast enough to get to my sister and brother-in-law, and I was throwing things willy-nilly into the suitcase. Scott was hurting for them, too, but he knew we’d be staying awhile. He was quietly methodical and thoughtful. He gently removed random things I threw in (a little bottle of air freshener? a beach hat? the ceiling fan? Seriously, though, I was just grabbing and tossing and I have no idea what all went in there but I know I saw him replacing them with things I would really need – I know I didn’t think of underwear or shirts but there were probably six pair of pants from when I ripped open that drawer and then was ready to LEAVE!) I yelled at him, “We have to GO! You’re moving too slow!” But he wasn’t being slow, he was being purposeful and I was rushing because my mind was madcap. I simply couldn’t think straight.

Another time, we were on a vacation trip, just the two of us, and we were riding bikes around Savannah looking for a place to eat. We started off wanting to find the most amazing local restaurant that you couldn’t find anywhere else. Then, as time passed, he still wanted to find that and I wanted to find FOOD of any kind. We were fairly young in our relationship, within the first year, and he didn’t recognize the signs yet, bless his heart. But I was getting sweaty, lightheaded, and nauseous (low blood sugar) and I suddenly stopped the bike, got off and said “We are eating here. I have to eat right now.” He did, then, realize that these must be signs of 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 and said, “Okay, baby, if that’s what you want.” We ate at Panera.

I feel guilty about those things now but I don’t have a single doubt that Scott knew how very much I loved him. And there were times he told me that he wanted to be more like me in some ways so I know we balanced each other out and we helped each other grow.

Don’t be afraid to be meek. Challenge yourself to memorize and understand the real meaning of the word. I know I am. ♥️

Liz’s friend: “What word are you?” Liz: “Hmm…started off as daughter. Was pretty good at that. Wife…not so good at that. Girlfriend…not so good.” Friend: “Maybe you are a woman in search of a word…” ~ Eat Pray Love ♥ ~

I do believe I am in search of my word. In the movie Liz suggested “writer” as her own and her friend said “That is what you do; it is not who you are.” My own mind mimics that wanting to say “nurse” or “caregiver” because it is what I love and it feels like a part of me to put my hands and words on injured or failing bodies and souls and try to help somehow but I am rarely able to practice that as my work now. Taking care of my children or of my patients feels as if it gives me purpose and something I am known to be capable and even skilled at doing. There is also the predicament that my skills of lifting the spirits of others were much more efficacious when God was wrapped around my life as a silken cocoon of protection before I allowed a rip of denigration to assault His guardianship. The resulting flock of moths that swarmed the opening and drowned out the light have never retreated, thus weakening my ability to render the cultivation of the aforementioned gift. I often find myself wanting to reach out to soothe and end up in a self-wounding battle of alternating self-loathing and self-pity. These are things which I know lack nobility, humility and honor but which seem to circle in an ever-present, exhausting tidal wave of emotion.

These words, however, would still be a title for “what I do” and not “who I am”. So I am, indeed, a woman in search of my own word. It should be a word which tells me who I am and what I mean or what I am to contribute to this world. It should be a word that defines my being so acutely that I no longer allow anyone to swathe me with their own elucidation. It should be a word that thwarts my own unwanted desire to allow anyone else to be or choose my word for me. Notice I did not say “It should be a word that tells OTHERS…”; others would not need to know my word because they will be able to sense who I am based on the fruits of my labor and perhaps even by my existence in the circle of my life that overlaps with the circle of their own. Possession and knowledge of such a powerful tool as a character-encompassing idiom could breathe new life into my life. I feel that I need a word, one word, all my own to remind me that I do not need any other titles to define me. But does such a word even exist?

The realizations strikes me suddenly, like the comedic hand-slap to the head of a stooge, that trying to find one’s “word” sounds as if attempting to allow only one description for a multitude of characteristics. I am aware that one person can “be” many things to many people. It is not my attributes that I wish to entitle but my purpose. I grasp the idea that there is no single word that is capable of explaining to another that which demonstrates an overall encirclement of my personality and being. I simply seek this word as a foundation on which to build my own understanding of who I am. I can represent different words to different people but knowing which one I represent to myself is paramount in seeking to slay the dragons of past failures and defend my fortress from future blitzkrieg. Each antecedent onslaught has come in such a lightning-fast manner that I felt unprepared to protect my own walls and thus their bricks dropped miserably around me in forgotten rag-doll fashion and have since disintegrated into clouds of choking dust. Knowing my “word”, in my mind, is the epitome of raising a forcefield around one’s encampment. Once I know who I am, I will no longer feel I need the approval and recognition of others in order to merely survive. Instead I will not only survive but LIVE as who I am and not what others expect me to be. And yet again I am forced to inquire as to whether such a word exists that can provide all of these protections.

So today I begin my quest. The territory may often seem uncharted and the forests dark and unwelcoming. The people oft appear villainous but some are indeed utilitarian and will help at the cost of their own sacrifice of time and efforts for the betterment of the kingdom. I shall go on to seek my personal holy grail and do not intend to cease searching until I find the verbal accoutrement that will allow me to map my life’s path in years to come.

Who am I? I am now a woman in search of a word.

Tag: eat pray love

Give Credit to the Meek

A Woman In Search Of A Word