You either read that as 'heuristics' or 'heretics,' and that's ok because maybe it's a little mix of both.
Heuristics is a method or set of rules for solving problems other than by algorithm. (That is, without math.) It's how you figure things out. These days, what I'm trying to figure out is how to be her. Hence, heristics.
Her. The woman God created in me. The woman I am when it's just me and God, when the pressures of the world aren't one me. The woman I am when I'm thinking back over a moment and wishing for second chances because it's clear in hindsight how she would have handled it. The woman I am when I'm humble enough to apologize, quiet enough to hear, and courageous enough to fail big. How do I be her?
Our preacher asked us this past Sunday: how many of you wake up every morning thinking about how you're going to be Jesus today? Anyone?
My heart resigned. Not me, I thought. But I go to bed most nights thinking about how I should have been.
I'm tired of having that relationship with Jesus in me. And Jesus in me is somehow her. That woman, that one I long to be, that one who makes such perfect sense in isolation but hasn't figured out how to interact outside of this heart (for many different reasons, which I will shortly confess). She is Jesus in me, and she is how Jesus is bringing Himself to the world through me. Now, I have to get out of the way.
It starts with unapologizing. So I hereby unapologize. I'm not sorry for not being whatever it is that you (yes, you) have thought I ought to be over the years. I'm not sorry I didn't live up to some standard or some expectation you might have had of me. I'm not sorry that I've let you down, messed up your plans, or otherwise fallen short of that place in your life you were trying to put me. I'm not sorry that I never fit in your box. Even though you convinced me I ought to be and often, I said I was, I'm just not sorry. Because I never owed my life to you, and I should never have let you convince me that I did. Thus, I unapologize.
And I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I haven't been myself lately. Or ever. I'm sorry that when you've looked at me, you haven't seen something more than skin-deep. I'm sorry that my faith and my confidence and my grace hasn't shown. I'm sorry that somehow, I lost touch with the woman in me designed to be Jesus for you. Because you're missing out on some of the most beautiful things that Jesus is - that Jesus can be, with skin on - and that's my fault for letting too much else get in the way and failing to be her, who is Him. Thus, I'm sorry.
And I'm sorry to my God. I'm sorry, Lord, that I've been afraid. I'm sorry that I've let myself be both timid and intimidated, and at times, of course, intimidating. I'm sorry that I let myself think it was enough to have You simply here in my heart where I've been willing to sit on You and hide You under my darkness - which is disobedience, fearfulness, and a profound lack of grace. I'm sorry that I've turned my face away and held myself back. Because You created something beautiful in me, and You called me to use that. Sorry, Lord...to be that. Thus, I'm sorry to my God.
And finally, I don't care. I don't care whether what I'm about to do will make you cock an eyebrow or look down on me. I don't care if I fit your definition or any definition. I don't care if I look foolish (or if I really am foolish). I don't care if I'm broken, crazy, sweaty, dirty or a mix of any other things. I don't care if I'm socially-acceptable or politically-correct. I don't care if you approve or if you disapprove; I don't care if I have permission for every little thing. Because I'm going after her, hard-core.
Her. The woman God created in me. The woman I am when it's just me and God, when the pressures of the world aren't one me. The woman I am when I'm thinking back over a moment and wishing for second chances because it's clear in hindsight how she would have handled it. The woman I am when I'm humble enough to apologize, quiet enough to hear, and courageous enough to fail big. I'm going after her.
I feel like I've spent too much of my life holding her back. Submitting her to the definitions and the plausibilities and expectations of the world in which I live, a world that by my own making probably wouldn't expect her out of me any more. Asking for permission on her behalf before letting loose and living abandoned, asking...whether it would be ok if I would be her today. Right now. Asking, sometimes, if I could really do that or not. Hesitating. Hemming and hawing. Holding back. But I'm done. I can't do that any more.
I'm going after her.
She is now what I measure my life by, this definition of God in me. This invitation of God...in me. This woman in me through whom this everything makes sense. This Jesus in me who is trying to bring Himself to the world. I measure my life by her, and I'm getting out of the way. Maybe, yes, it's a little heretical, but this is how it has to be. This is how it's going to be. This is how I am choosing - today - in the perfect tense (and I am the perfect tense right about now) - it to be. And I'm planning to be unapologizing about it. Planning to be humble enough to be sorry when I need to be, gracious enough to be forgiving, even to be forgiven, and quiet enough to be heard.
I'm setting my life by heristics and diving into Him.