The Red Portfolio, or, Why Focusing on God Matters

On the rental car’s passenger seat sat a worn red leather portfolio.

I was on a gravel road between two small towns in Wisconsin, and as with every work trip, the portfolio was my trusty sidekick.  Its corners are worn, there’s a small scratch on the back, and there’s a blue pen mark on the inside seam where I missed the pen holder at the end of an appointment long ago.

One might argue that it’s time to get a new one.  I can’t, though, because it is my prized possession.  More than that, it’s my litmus test for whether or not I am heading in the right direction.

You might say that amount of significance is ridiculous, to which I’d say you need to know the story behind it.  You see, I received the portfolio the day I graduated from college.  My mom’s cousin Brigitte sent it wrapped in the most beautiful silver paper—the kind you hate to tear.  Even the tissue was purposefully creased to fall over it with precision, creating a nest.

It was a gift for a career woman.  The woman I saw in my visions.  The woman I wanted to be.  I felt more successful holding it.

I still do.  It reminds me of that young woman who had her toes curled over the edge of a new life and wanted to leap into it.  She wanted to be polished, professional, and have a noticeable pop of color, just like the portfolio.

Back then, my drive bubbled over from within, an almost physical sensation, like delightful carbonation in my belly.

I recognize the sensation now.  It was God.  It was faith.  It was a purpose he placed in my heart.  I set out to do what is good and right in the kingdom of God.

I was obedient—or so I thought—and worked hard to be more, to be successful, and to not waste my life.  I thought purpose meant I needed to take it all in (emphasis on all).  I needed to answer more emails, make more calls, schedule more meetings, and meet more people.  “More” meant I was taking full advantage of every opportunity.

In Whispers of Hope, Beth Moore writes,“God never meant for us to live frenzied lives.”  She says our frantic lives and schedules were not his idea.  I think she’s right.  Maybe that’s why my red portfolio, a material object, centers me.

I can place it on my lap and be reminded that only so much will fit inside, that I must be intentional and purposeful with my plans and know that I have the ability to field the unexpected.

Isn’t this what life is about? You can’t fit it all in, and you can’t prepare for everything. You have to be selective and surgical, and trust that the Spirit will fill in the blanks.

This is at once the easiest and the hardest thing to understand.  When I find myself driven to be more and more and more, yet I feel like I’m not gaining ground, it is easy to see that I accomplished nothing with the day or week I was given.  I feel I’ve let myself down, and I’ve let the Lord down.

This is when it is easy to be swept up in the momentum of work, errands, and demands in an attempt to find a rhythm.  This is when I feel myself slipping away despite good intentions.  For me, it is a light mist that grows into a fog, one I often don’t initially notice, a fog that thickens as I ignore the fact that pressure is beginning to outweigh joy.

I was certainly feeling foggy as I was driving to my meeting in Wisconsin that day.  I felt as though I was an imposter in my life.  I was a wife and a new mother trying to be both a nurturer at home and a polished professional who kept all the plates spinning at work.  I was beginning to let doubt take over.

As God always does, he shifted my focus to the passenger seat to remind me who was riding with me, who was accompanying me on the journey.  As he did, the noise quieted for a moment and clearer thoughts crept in.

For the first time in a long time, I noticed those embossed initials on the bottom right corner of my portfolio.  LRH. My maiden initials. While the H changed to D more than eight years ago, those letters are relevant in the present as a reminder of someone I don’t want to let down or forget: the girl God created me to be.

It is good to have a reminder, whatever it is, that you can see, touch, or even wear to shake up your system, to help you feel that internal carbonation again, to clear the fog of distraction.

If we focus on the glory of God and who he made us to be, we are moving in the right direction.

For me, the little red portfolio is a means of looking backward in order to look forward, a way of remembering when the drumbeat inside was louder than the noise outside, and a way of following it.

If you don’t see Lacey Rose Dixon taking photos or writing, she’s thinking about it. So far, she’s called Minnesota, South Dakota, and Michigan home, and her passport gets itchy for stamps. Lacey loves scuba diving with her hubby and crawling after her little man. Follow her @laceyrosedixon on Twitter.