THE EXTRA OF ME
My first waking thought surprises me.
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You might imagine it has to do with what my body is going through. But what fascinates me most is that it isn’t about me at all. From the outside, maybe this feels like denial or neglect—there’s enough “real” in my own life to worry about without having to look for something unknown.
Maybe it’s more of a sensing than tangible thought that I wake too— a resonating understanding that God is up to something far bigger than me.
This feeling, something I’m learning to recognize, lives in the unseen and manifests in the quiet belief that my life, my plans, my energy, and even my limitations are part of something holy and hidden that I don’t need to fully understand to trust.
It feels like God waiting with gentle expectancy: Will you let me use you today? Will you keep your plans pliable enough for love to reroute you?
When I start from this place [this quiet amazement that God is already moving in ways beyond what I can see] everything softens.
In this context there is a word that comes to me insistently. It shows up in the pauses of my sentences, in the middle of my chores—
Extra.
Not the loud, exaggerated definition that strives “above and beyond” to prove worth, but the overflow that comes from being anchored in my own spirit while noticing the things most people miss.
This kind of seeing isn’t born from self-neglect but a rooted belonging to one another and to an all-seeing God.
Go here. Linger longer. Ask again.
Haven’t you heard the whispers?
Not, use me when it fits my agenda.
Not, use me only in ways I’ve already rehearsed.
Just... use me.
When we live like this, there are no conditions on how we show up. It’s simply all about “do.”
We drop off the meal.
We send the text.
We stand in the doorway, unhurried, until someone’s spirit exhales.
There are people who change the entire trajectory of our day with one decision: to be extra. To step beyond the expected, to inconvenience themselves without hesitation, to be love in motion no matter the personal cost.
When was the last time you were extra, but in a good way?
Not the kind that shouts for recognition or hustles for approval. Not the kind that leaves you resentful and out-of-breath.
This is the kind of extra that defies the popular notion that we must be more to be seen. This is a quieter, braver way of being. One that shines the light on others instead of ourselves.
The meal delivered quietly.
The text sent without need for reply.
The love that amplifies in motion,
”doing” simply because it must.
This was a hard week for humanity. Big heros showed up in miraculous ways. Their extra taps into the longing in all of us to be that kind of human "in the moment," "someday." Sometimes the need isn’t obvious. Sometimes it's beyond what the eyes can see. But one thing is clear and certain—my willingness to be extra could be life-giving, even life-saving, for someone today.
NOTES:
I am not a good traveler. But I am a good packer. So, when I arrived at the counter to discover my cell phone was not in my bag, I was rocked to my core—
Not so much because of the absence of it,
but more because I couldn’t believe I had forgotten something so essential to my daily routine.
Upon arriving home after dropping me at the airport, Ron discovered my phone laying on the damp front lawn. Oddly, it had fallen out of my bag while I was walking out the front door just before dawn.
How strange that this was the one morning I resisted the temptation to root around in my bag for my cell, instead throwing it into the back seat while willing myself to give my full attention to my husband on the forty-minute drive.
For Ron, that eighty-minute round trip drive to the airport turned into an entire morning of back-and-forth, his second trip landing him at the ticket counter five minutes before the boarding of my plane was closed.
How did we accomplish this with airport security being what it is?
An airline employee noticed me frantically searching my bag. “What can I help with?” She asked as the line behind me grew. For the next several minutes she texted and called my husband until she was able to get him on the line. “Park just outside the counter in the terminal and I will meet you at the curb.” Just like that, this woman who embodied the best kind of extra ran from counter to curb, then through security to my gate, transferring both phone and warm hug of reassurance to me just in time.
Just in time. If we only knew how these words play out in the lives of those in need…I think we would live differently, respond more quickly, give up our comfort eagerly.
Image: I traveled to Orange County, California this week to undergo fourteen days of Hyperthermia. This therapy has the potential to slow the cancer growth in me. I am hoping to have positive lab reports to share in the coming weeks. Know that while I may not be with you, there are prayers laid down on a therapy table, in a quiet little room, on your behalf. This is the extra I’m able to give. And perhaps that’s the best of everything I am.