Patterns

My husband always tells me that I like rules.

“You like rules,” he’ll say with that smile that knows how to get under my skin.

I roll my eyes. “Not RULES. Structure.”

And that is true. I like structure. I like routine. I like a plan. I like patterns. Few blog posts go by without me referencing my beloved color-coded Google calendar.

And you know what? I probably DO actually like rules. Saying it that way makes me sound really legalistic, controlling and, well, not very fun. But I do like having clear expectations and a clear job description, especially when I’m doing a job for someone else.

I guess you could call that ‘liking rules.’ (That is, of course, if you want to annoy me.)

Haiti was what my coach calls a ‘metaphor-rich environment’ (not surprisingly). I have never had God reveal so many powerful pictures/lessons in such a concentrated period of time. The beauty of getting out of your comfort zone.

(Consider that a warning. That was not a one-blog-post trip. There have been several and there will probably be a few more. Deal with it.)

One of our goals for our day at the refugee village was to teach the workers there how to make a new product. It was a simple cross-shaped bookmark, made of rubber from inner tubes found on the side of the road. My job was to create the pattern out of thicker rubber that could be traced and cut out by the employees in the village.

We got there and did a couple trial runs with my pattern. If we used chalk to trace it, the cross didn’t keep its proper size. And even when we used a pen to trace it, it didn’t keep its shape.

I tried to make a few. One of the workers tried to make a few. Julie (the boss) inspected them critically.

She shook her head. “Nope. This won’t work.” She held up the stencil that I made and smiled teasingly. “See? If you have a bad pattern, you’ll have a bad product.”

I laughed and agreed. I hadn’t really set the employees up to win. They would try again another time.

But the profoundness of her playful jab echoed in my head. “If you have a bad pattern, you’ll have a bad product.” You can’t have a good product without a good pattern to follow.

Patterns. They’re everywhere.

We see patterns in families. As children we learn patterns. And whatever we grow up with, we think is normal. Until we get around other people with different normals. There are generational patterns. A child may be raised in a strict, legalistic home, rebel as a teenager and vow to raise his/her own children in a very different way. So the pendulum swings. And then at some point it usually swings back.

Inevitably some patterns run through every generation. Legacies are left, good and bad. Abuse, addiction, generosity, faith.

Much of our adulthood is spent trying to release the unhealthy patterns we may have picked up and latch firmly onto the positive ones to pass on to our own children.

The most powerful patterns are the unseen and often undetectable ones in our minds. We have MOs, go-tos, pre-programmed responses. And unhealthy patterns can keep us trapped inside ourselves for our entire lives, if we let them.

I was texting with a friend yesterday who was reporting back from her recent visit to our shared therapist.

“Trying to break decades-old patterns of thinking is not an easy one,” she wrote, complete with emoji.

“No joke,” I replied. “I’m with ya there.”

If you have a bad pattern, you’ll get a bad product.

I’ve always had a thing for poetry. Well, it comes and goes. There have been periods when it was all I would read.

One I particularly enjoyed in college was Patterns by Amy Lowell. It’s terribly sad actually. But she talks about the pattern of the garden she walks through, and how she herself is ‘a rare pattern’ in her stiff brocaded gown she longs to be free of.

Her only hope of freedom was her fiancé who she finds out was killed ‘in a pattern called a war.’ The last line was always so striking to me.

Christ! What are patterns for?

I don’t condone taking the Lord’s name in vain (although when people are grieving the loss of a loved one, I do cut a LOT of slack). But whenever I read it, in my head, it was always an honest question, addressing Jesus.

Christ? What are patterns for?

I could almost hear the smile in His voice, Well, I’m glad you asked.

Speaking of patterns and routines, I tend to go in and out of seasons when I regularly spend time in scripture. But after a time away, I always go back to one of three places: John, Romans or Philippians. (I know there are 63 others. I need to branch out.)

Paul tells us in the familiar verse from Romans,

Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind (12:2).

What is the pattern of this world?

The notes of my study Bible say ‘evil and corruption,’ and the transforming referred to here is ‘a process, not a single event.’

To break patterns, we have to transform and renew our minds. And as my friend texted yesterday, that is no small task.

But if you have a bad pattern, you get a bad product.

God is totally into patterns, by the way. He gave the nation of Israel an impossibly intense pattern of holiness to follow through the law in the Old Testament. He gave Moses a perfectly specific pattern for how He wanted the Tabernacle built.

And all these patterns point to the One pattern that would stand for all eternity: Jesus Christ. And it is after Him we are to pattern our lives.

So what pattern are you following? The precious woman who tried to follow my flawed pattern that day in Haiti ended up with an equally flawed product.

As believers, we are instructed to NOT conform to the patterns of this world.

Not the patterns of our parents.
Not the patterns of our grandparents.
Not the patterns of history.
Not the patterns of the American Dream.
Not the patterns of the stock market or the economy.
Not the patterns of the other moms.
Not the patterns of the guys at work.
Not the patterns of our best friends.
Not the patterns of the wealthy and successful.

No matter how well meaning the pattern (or pattern maker), if your pattern is not Christ, the product (you, the living sacrifice) will look an awful lot like the world and not much like Jesus.

And we are as incapable of replicating the pattern of Jesus as the Israelites were of keeping the law. Hence, the Cross. And Jesus’ perfect holiness was the only reason it worked.

Yet we are commanded to no longer conform, but to be transformed by renewing our minds. Conforming is a deliberate choice. It actually takes a lot of work to conform.

And to be sure, renewing your mind is no walk in the park. But it is a choice as well, and the better choice by far. If I’m gonna work hard, I’d rather put the effort toward becoming who I was created to be than becoming anything else.

We’re all following patterns whether we realize it or not. Patterns we were taught. Patterns we made up in response to our environments. Patterns we purposely follow to try to fit in.

And we become patterns for each other. (God help my children. Therapy and God’s direct intervention are their only hope.) But if I notice anyone crazy enough to try to follow the Lindsey version of Jesus, I am quick to point them to the true Pattern.

I say we simplify our lives and give up all of our patterns, except One.

The poet actually unknowingly answered her own question.

Christ. What patterns are for.