Boundaries.

Let's talk about boundaries.

Oh, I love 'em. And sometimes I hate 'em--but most of the time, I love 'em.

Remember when I talked about The Slow Down? It's another term for boundaries.

I used to be really bad about boundaries.  Like if you asked me to do your laundry, I'd probably say "yes"--even if I had only met you 10 minutes earlier.  I'm a compassionate soul (as most people who are horrible with boundaries tend to be), and I would pretty much allow myself to be a doormat in order for someone else to be happy.

And then, somewhere down the line, I got angry when I had an epiphany that I didn't have to be a doormat. I realized how much I had been played. I was tired and not fulfilled in my own life or desires.  I had spent all my time living up to what I thought I should be doing or what I thought someone else thought I should be doing. Or what someone else did-in-fact think I should be doing. Not to mention, I was endowed with "God-pleasing" syndrome.  It's that ugly religious thing that makes you think you have to "do" something for God to be happy with you. Lies--all of 'em!

And then somewhere around 25 years of age, I had a midlife crisis.

Apparently, I was ahead of the game--cause I sure plan on living longer than 50 years.

The other week I was praying about resentment. Yup, resentment.  It usually sneaks it's ugly head up when I've forgiven someone more than multiple times--and then I keep getting "pooped on"--for lack of better terms.  I asked God how I could deal with this resentment. I didn't want to be resentful--and I didn't want to be pooped on.  My compassionate and sometimes horribly boundaried side wanted so badly for change to occur, and my "you don't deserve that" and more protective (and sometimes isolating side) was over it.

And then ya know what He showed me?  A picture of a bull.  It was behind a gate--hoofing and snorting breaths out of it's nose.  It was kinda ticked off--and it was about to be released out of this gate...into a Rodeo.

I asked God: "How did that thing get activated?"  And you know what appeared? A big, RED cloth. Right in front of its nose.

After I took some time to figure out what a bull represented, I started to understand.  A bull often plows the way, it's a forerunner, it goes ahead.  And red is often it's trigger. Red--forgiveness.  Grace. Generosity.  Compassion.  But you know what else a bull is? A little stubborn, a little forceful, and it doesn't have time for chit chat.  If a rider jumps on, it's time to Rodeo.

That's kind of where I feel like I am.  This spring was all about Forgiveness. It was about humility.  About laying my life down--allowing compassion to drive my decisions--instead of judgement. It was learning how to love others more than I loved myself.

And now?

It feels like it's time to Rodeo.

It doesn't mean that I stop forgiving or stop being compassionate.  That's my DNA.  It just means that all that extra "sure-I'll-do-your-dirty-laundry-for-you" is over. Over as in I have my left hand on my hip, and I'm wavin' my right hand in a squiggle and ending with a snap. Ova.

I don't have to be coarse, and I don't have to be rude--but I do need boundaries.

It's learning how to say yes and also learning how to say no.


It's ok to lay down my life for someone else when He tells me so. But when I'm getting taken advantage of, I can say no.  I've got a life and calling, too, ya know.  There are other things I'd like to do besides dying a million times.

And that's where we Rodeo.

It's God's grace to me when He shows me how to Rodeo. Jesus rodeo-ed.  He turned tables when people were selling things in His House. He got mad that people's Rest was getting stolen.

He doesn't like it when we're not at peace. He doesn't like it when we get taken advantage of.  He doesn't like it when we spend all of our time trying to "do" instead of getting to "be".  Not only because it is exhausting---but also because it steals our destiny.  I can't spend my time being who I'm supposed to be, flourishing in my unique design, when I'm too busy overextending myself so that other people "might" choose to walk in theirs.

Boundaries.

I can be compassionate, but I don't have to be a doormat.  I can have boundaries, but I don't have to be mean.  I promise not to hook you with my bullhorns as long as we both understand that we're all in process.  You can be free to be you--and I can be free to be me.  If I say no to you, it doesn't mean I don't love you.  It means that I actually do love you--enough to let you walk out your own journey.  I won't be a co-dependent "parent" and bail someone out all the time, and that someone won't grow up being entitled and naive. I'm not planning on being on the cover of Time magazine--if ya know what I'm sayin'.

And so, in loving Sarah fashion, I will just say this.  The grace is lifting for this season--and I'm pretty sure I'm shifting into the next season. It's really fun and spunky and there are bull horns and an announcer.  There's quite a bit of dirt, and I get to wear a cowboy hat and boots.

And I'm learning how to balance...

...one hand tied to keep me steady and the other hand flailing around in the air enjoying the ride of My Life......

Yee haw!