The Glorious Theory of Firsts

Recently, I laid in bed telling Michael I was feeling sad.

As I looked him eye to eye, cheek smooshed to pillow, I shared my grief seems to be heavier now than it has been. There are new griefs after moving away from a community of ten years. I long to be known in ways that took years of knowing. I ache to be settled, whatever that actually means, but I ache for it, nonetheless. I aim for meaningful work, hoping I hit the mark with the thousand mistakes I make along the way. These are bigger mountains than expected, and your girl is not a hiker.

Then there are the old griefs that haunt me like a tablecloth ghost. Death of dreams, actual death and painfully private sadnesses. These just peer around corners and lurk in moments I can never prepare for. There is no formula for the tablecloth ghost, just a white sheet that could be pulled out any moment. And each time it comes out to play, it keeps taking my gosh darn breath away.

All that being said, I believe in the power of going first. Thus the head smooshed on a pillow confessing first how I was feeling. But “first” can be a lot of things. First to say when something is hard. First to tell a story. First to confess. First to invite a new friend to a coffee. First to say I’m sorry. First to try a new experience. You get it. First. I just believe it is the magic to a deeply satisfying life.

To be entirely clear, just because I believe in the power of first, doesn’t necessarily mean I act on it. Sometimes my humanity needs others to be first, which is probably my first hint at bitterness lacing its coils under my skin. I should know better, but I don’t. When I get stingy with my time, resources, or joy, it’s probably because I’ve forgotten all I have been given. 

After my conversation with Michael, I went to bed. I woke up and did my quiet routine with Jesus that helps my heart. I got my coffee, moved my body and read some of His living, breathing Word. Then, I went into my day doing what I always do.

But this day, I intentionally practiced firsts.

I made sure to be the first one to turn on the music in the kitchen and dance with my girls. I was the first one to kiss my husband like I meant it because I actually do. I happened to be the first one to confess that sometimes following Jesus is hard and I feel like He isn’t speaking. And in all my firsts that day, I felt God asking me to experience His invitation to stop boxing Him in - an invitation He kindly gives again and again.

Practicing firsts is a gift for me. And it comes when I remember – and live – that I already have all I need in God. In fact, He is the abundance. And when I remember that I have bucketloads of every spiritual blessing, I can go first because I give out of my fullness rather than my feelings.