Mooooo-oooom....God slapped me

So there I was, sipping on my free church coffee and minding my own business when God reached down from the heavens and slapped the wax outta my ear. On Mother's Day. Geesh. All because of a stinking picture frame. A broken frame at that.

What does a picture frame have to do with my spiritual spanking? Basically, our lives are frames and the job of the frame is to accentuate the big picture, the big picture being what we worship. How do I know what I worship? That was our church question yesterday. (That's not some strange cultish thing we do, it was simply the basis of the message.) If I wanna know what I worship I have to look at my checkbook and my calendar.

When I started thinking about my bank account and my calendar I thought that I worshiped food and money. But then I realized that I don't worship food or money. I worship ME. It's all about me. It always has been. It's liberating to say that out loud and scary at the same time. But it's horribly true.

Example: Friday night I took Lauren to Chuck E Cheese and I let her take a friend. I didn't do it to be nice. I did it so that I could sit in the corner and read a book I bought at lunch Friday afternoon. While that's a small example, my story is full of those little things that I've done because I wanted to or because I am the most important person in my life. And now that I see me for what I am, I'm struggling with how to walk the fine line between taking care of myself (read: not turning into a yes man) versus continuing on this self-absorbed path.

How do I learn to listen to that still, small voice that gently whispers selfless suggestions to my soul? How do I break out of my comfort zone?

Seriously...how?