My toxic trait is...

Narrative writing

nar·ra·tive

/ˈnerədiv/

noun

• 1.a spoken or written account of connected events; a story. 
• 
  

A story. 

In this case, the skill of completely building up an entire story about how someone else is feeling, what they're doing, what they think about us or how a situation is or conversation is certain to unfurl. Deciding that the passive aggressive post or comment was CERTAINLY about us or how we must not be worthy because someone didn't "show up" in a way that was would have "shown up" for them.

It's been a conversation we've been having often within the walls of our home lately.

My girls are becoming quite skilled in this area and to be fair, they come by it naturally. You see, I have a pretend Master's degree in it. 

As someone who yearns for security, has struggled with anxiety, and hates curveballs, my narrative writing has been something I've used to "get ahead of" any hard conversations or feelings or scary events, preparing myself for what I will say or how I will react. 

Oh, by the way, Empathetic, big feeling Enneagram 2 here. Nice to meet you. 

If I can completely write an entire "what if" scenario, then, when that icky thing inevitably happens, I'm not caught off guard. I'm "safer". I can't get AS hurt.  It is something I have honed and perfected over time as a defense mechanism.  It's self-protection. At least, that's what I've convinced myself of. 

What I've come to realize is, as I've worked to make this skill something "useful" for me, all it has really done is hurt me. Big time. 

In fact, it hasn't served me in any beneficial way at all. Narrative writing IS my toxic trait. 

What I've discovered through this realization has been three fold. 

1. What I think will happen never really happens:

The first thing I've realized is 99.9% of the situations or conversations I have "written" never actually turn out like I've dreamed up. I have caused myself immense fear, heartache and worry over something that just isn't likely to even happen.

That's logical. 

Of course they don't. Why? Well, first- I have a REALLY good imagination. I mean, REALLY GOOD! You should see how I dream or what I can create when I use that super power for good. 

But in this frame, I don't just dream up the basics when I start writing pretend conversations or scenarios. I go into full detail of who will say or do what, what they MUST be thinking about me right now or, in my deepest places, exactly how that plane will plummet from the sky in a barreling ball of fire and smoke and how I would save me and mine.  (Logic check- I know there is nothing I could actually do in that last example. Which is why I don't fly. 😂. Level 74 of aforementioned toxic trait. We will save that for another day).

The issue is, typically, when our brains go into Narrative writing mode, it's usually 0% logical or rational thinking. Okay, maybe like 5% tops because sometimes we write those stories based on past experiences in those spaces, but I don't think we can give it much more than that because our imaginations certainly make things a little more wild than what truth really is. 

In fact, in this very moment, I am fighting the urge to author an entire made up story as someone who normally communicates with me often has just... stopped. Cold turkey. I've reached out and had with no reply (but the message has been seen) which has prompted moments of spiraling thoughts on the why. 

I must have said something that made them mad, disappointed them, or they probably just don't like me anymore. Seem familiar?

Side note: This doesn't mean that there won't be times when you just come across someone who is just plain miserable, but that isn't for you to carry either unless you HAVE done something wrong and then you do need to go make it right. Even if right means that you can go separate ways, but the beef has been squashed so both of you can move on peacefully. 

Circling back to logical thinking, the truth is, they could just be busy or not need my help like they once did or could be going through some of their own junk, but I can't help but decide it must be a ME issue. 

Which takes me to my next discovery on why this is more harmful than helpful.

It's all about me.

I don't consider myself a selfish person, but this is one area where I make it all about me. 

Nearly every narrative I write has ME on the defense. 

"They must hate ME." "They must not like ME" . "I am not good enough". "I must have done something wrong." " Me, me, I, I and the cycle continues. 

As I decide for myself what is going on in someone's head or heart, I inadvertently rip myself apart,  nit picking everything I've said or done, trying to dissect it down to the root so I can then work how I need to deal with it, what I will say or not say, so I don't mess up again. 

Wait, wait, wait. Isn't this "skill" supposed to be about protecting me? Funny, isn't it? Well, not really funny. Sad. Really sad because this can also has a super fun side affect of triggering my anxiety which can send me into a tailspin of feelings and emotions that spill into other areas like my parenting, my beliefs in myself as a leader in my business or even my role as a wife and friend. 

Self-depreciating talk that leaves me feeling like an absolute failure in all the things. All because someone didn't reply to my text or didn't say hi at Walmart.

It couldn't POSSIBLY be that something is off because THEY are busy or have THEIR own things going on or are struggling with THEIR own junk. It's because I'm worthless. It must be ME. 

How unfair of me to do this to myself, but to them as well. 

Which brings me to my last discovery. 

It isn't fair to them either. 

As much as it isn't fair to my own heart to decide I am the issue, it isn't fair to them either. 

This is something I realized in talking with my oldest who, in her own narrative writing, decided that one of her close friends must not really like her because she invited someone else to do something with her instead of my daughter. She did her own little spiral of self talk & then started getting angry at her friend for what she THOUGHT she was thinking and doing.

Whoa nelly! Hold your horses! That's so unfair. 

In writing our own narrative, we don't only end up being insanely hard on ourselves, but we also are too harsh on others. We put words in their mouths, thoughts in their heads and can even vastly redesign their entire character simply because we can't get out imaginations in check. I've seen people literally throw away long time friendships based on assumptions they've dreamed up inside their own pretty little heads based very little on fact. 

It is so important in these moments that we stop & remember who it is we are talking about. Is how you're feeling about what you THINK they are feeling/saying/doing true to who they are?

Do they normally act like the crazy person you have created them to be?

Do they normally say or do the hateful things you've now created them to say or do because of your insecurities or fears?

No? Then stop putting that on them! Stop trying to convince yourself they are your enemy. STOP WRITING THE NARRATIVE. 

It's a lie.

This "act of self-protection" has been a lie all along. A device the enemy has used to trick us into thinking if we "got ahead" of the situation in our heads,  we'll be much more prepared to handle them in real life. Absolute bull snot. 

We not only end up damaging ourselves in this process by increasing our own fear & anxiety & treating our own minds and hearts with disrespect, but we end up treating others poorly too. 

Whether directly, by a lashing out with hurtful works after you spent weeks stirring up undue anger inside yourself because you already decided what they were thinking or feeling.

Or indirectly by cheating them and ourselves out of meaningful conversations and relationships because we've misjudged and mislabeled who they really are or their intent. All because we couldn't get our imaginations in check. All because we took a smidgen of experience or information & blew it up into a 5 part Lifetime series.

It isn't fair to anyone involved. You, them, anytime caught in between.

So how do we stop it? Well, I'm still figuring that part out. 

What I can share is when I do find myself starting to go "down the rabbit hole" I try to stop & ask myself these questions:

"Is that who they really are?"

"Is that who I really am?"

"Is that fact or what I think is true?"

"Is this logical or emotional?"

So far, I've been able to talk myself off the ledge by running through this list, but on the occasion that I haven't, I just do the hard thing and go have the conversation with whomever it is I feel a weird thing with. I throw out a "hey, are we ok?" or "so, I have a quick question because we know I'm crazy and I can't stop thinking about..." (a little light heartedness so it isn't as awkward) 

Want to hear some good news? To date, 95% of it was indeed all in my head! 😆 Of course it was.

Oh and that 5%? It's bene all easily solved with a convo the clear some miscommunication or confusion up. That's it! Whew! What a relief! 

So today, let me challenge you, as I continue to challenge myself to stop writing the narrative. We are not the Author.

Use that creative energy for good, not the bad.

Use that wild imagination for taking your kids on fun adventures or story telling or creating a life you love. 

Not for dreaming up what could go wrong, is going wrong, how you've done wrong or being wronged. 

There is no peace to be found is sitting inside the what ifs.  

Live inside the freedom that can be found in extending that grace to yourself and to others. 

Live inside the life you are living, not the version you try to write to protect yourself of what could come.

Do yourself a favor. 

Stop writing the narrative. 

When the right-brain gets it wrong.

It's the first day of a new year, a new decade and I find myself with an intense urge to write.
But there is a problem.
I have no idea what to write about.
In this moment, just the feeling over my fingers sliding across the keys at 100 miles a minute (backspaces for corrections included), is good enough.
Good enough for me anyway, but for you, the reader, it's probably seeming pretty lame.
The thing is, I constantly feel the need to create.
Whether it's through words or actions or crafting or cooking or.... it's always there.
Always this push to make something better than it was before or make something new or plan.
Like some weird creative addict looking for a fix, I didn't realize it was so much a part of who I was until the last few weeks.

We went into our holiday season with a big trip planned. A Disney Cruise and it was awesome (even with the crummy weather).
 I worked getting gifts bought and wrapped, loose ends tied up, my kids situated with school stuff and our house in order before we left. I wanted to come back to quiet and calm and rest as we entered the week of Christmas and subsequently, the New Year. No to do lists, nothing to finish up. Just time to enjoy the holidays.

But the second we were back, I became restless.
As we went through family gatherings and did all the normal Christmas activities and traditions, it lurked even still.
That restlessness turned into aimlessness.
The aimlessness into frustration and a general BLAH-ness.
Not depression, because that is a BIG word I have walked through before so I NEVER use is to describe moments of blah, but just a general "what's next?" feeling with no direction. Much like this post started with.

What I do know is that next week, the girls will go back to school and "normal" life will pick up once again. There will be needs needing met and projects come up that need done. There will be moments of inspiration that fuel crazy dreams causing me to non-stop think or work on them until they're done.
It's inevitable. It WILL happen. And I will love it. I'll eat it up,  it will consume me, I'll over commit and spend nights lying awake while I map whatever the newest thing is in my head. It's what I do. It's a part of who I am. Who God has (quite) uniquely designed me to be.

But why can't I do that now? In this blah, blank space between seasons?

Because I asked God for time of rest.
And He gave it to me.
And I've been fighting it.
Wait.
What?
BOOM!
Did you catch that?

All that ranting I did before about feeling restless and aimless and not having anything to do... I ASKED for! I asked God before we left for our trip for a time of peace and rest and calm and time to "gather" myself as we step into the next season.

And then as gracious as God was to grant it, I, in my always need to be busy self, totally wished it away and didn't even take time to SEE what I was being given.

Something we all do far too often in so many things if we are honest.
Asking God to move, Him granting our heart's desires and then we just stand there like "now what?"

So God and I had a chat today. I apologized and asked for Him to continue to teach me how to find stillness. That, even in his design of who I am to always be creating, I don't miss the opportunities to just be. To enjoy the moments of not necessarily being needed instead of counteracting those moments by finding something to do so I feel valuable, useful, worthy?

Because is that really what this boils down to? Do I need to create so I feel worthy? There is a whisper that says yes, but I pray it isn't true. Regardless, I don't want that ever to be what I become, so maybe it's okay to recognize it and get it handled. I want the crazy creative brain of mine and willing to work hands to always be doing and moving how God intends for them to do and move.
Even if that means sometimes that they are both totally still.

So I guess I did figure out something to write today. It's scrambled and silly and self reflective and totally a right brain way to write I guess, but instead of just deleting it, my guess is there is someone else like me, out there, who needs to hear the same words.

That rest is ok.
That being still is ok.
That letting your mind and hands take a break is ok.

Even if it feels blah or restless or uneasy for a minute.

Because for you, for I, to be able to continue to serve the way God has designed us to serve, we HAVE to be able to take those moments, sit in them fully, and prepare ourselves for what's next.

2020, you're what's next.
I'm ready.


And as a bonus- this...
because it's hilarious and 100% accurate

Falling down the rabbit hole...

The struggle is so real. Am I right? The struggle to feel like you're doing a good job.

Like you're valuable.

Like you're enough.

Like people like you.

And it doesn't just stick to one area, does it? It's spreads like a disease that moves from how you're parenting, how well you're doing your job, if you're contributing well enough your friendships, loving your spouse enough and even how we view our bodies.

Then the enemy comes in with what seems to be the world's largest magnifying glass. Even the areas you feel like you have under control seem to start showing wear. LOOK HERE! he says. Showing you every tiny failure as though you've just doomed all man kind.

The struggle is real.

I've recently had a few experiences that have made me fight spiraling down into the realm of nonsense. In my family, we call this falling down the rabbit hole. An Alice in Wonderland reference. Some small, some bigger, but the end game the same. The argument in my head of whether the thoughts floating around were true and worth hanging on to or lies of the enemy that needed to be thrown in the trash can as soon as they came across my mental "desk". File 13'd if you will. The troublesome fact is that often, not much trash gets taken out. Instead, I hold on to it like a hoarder or all the things. Today has been one of those days. A few very separate moments that I've rabbit holed into one big "I'm doing nothing right" wad.

Here is an example of what has ensued lately when I step too close to the hole.

(insert Alice yelling "Bye Dina!" as she tumbles through the dark)

"Am I a good enough leader? Am I inspiring my team? Do they even like me? What if they don't like me, but are just dealing with me because it's all they've got? I mean, if I was, this, this, and this would be different. I must really be messing up."

"I saw so and so at the store today. They didn't even acknowledge me. I wonder what I did? Do they think I did something? I wonder if they're talking about me behind my back? What are they saying? That's not even true (my answer to my made up theories about made up gossip)."

"Man I'm messing up this mom thing? I mean, if I wasn't my kids wouldn't be so hard headed and talk back, right? They would be gentle and kind and show the manners I'm working to teach them. They'd pick up their clothes and wouldn't fight or use their wit to throw word darts at each other. Practical princesses. But they're not and it's my fault."

And then the most pathetic one of all. Ready for it?

"Why isn't anyone commenting on my FB post? I mean, it's helpful and funny and all the things, but no one even liked it. Maybe it's me. Maybe they don't like what I post and so they just keep scrolling wishing they could somehow delete me without me knowing"'

Friends. If my daughter had those thoughts about some social media post she'd made I'd have to resist the urge to pop her upside her head and ask why on earth she was associating her value with thumbs ups and passing comments. So stupid. So so stupid. 

But I did it. 

And you do it too, don't you?

I think as a woman, this is so common, but I dare not say that men don't also fight the same battle, but in silence. The fight for self worth and learning to fully disconnect the lines we mistakenly draw between every day life stuff and who we are.

The fact is, leadership doesn't always come with reassurance and we have to be okay with that.

Sometime people have stuff and don't see you. Legit don't see you and how selfish of us to decide it's all about us. Like maybe they have other stuff going on. Hard stuff. So selfish.

A dirty towel on the floor doesn't mean you're breeding serial killers.

"Likes" don't equal love.

So how do we fight back? How do we quiet the voice of despair and let truth scream louder?

How do we stop just before following the rabbit down his hole?

I mean he is awful cute. Stopwatch and all. But alas, what follows when we get too close to the hole is we inevitably tumble down it's treacherous dark spaces with a world of chaos and confusion at the end. A place where nonsense is King. 

I think the first part is to protect yourself from even getting that close.  When the thoughts and ideas begin, to immediately treat them like some obnoxious balloon and pop them. Not today balloon! Not Today.

Second, I think we need to recognize how upside down those thoughts are. Even Alice saw it. 

Those thoughts that turn into other thoughts and spiral out of control are typically 99% false, but we've given them a crumb of truth and let them swallow us whole. Look at those thoughts and truly break them down. Instead of focusing on what you think you've done wrong or why you don't think you're good enough, flip the mirror, so it's right side up. 

Why do you do right? Many things I'm sure. 

What are you good at? So, so much.

Do you lead with your team's dreams and best interest in mind? Then you're enough. Good job!

Are you respectful of others, treat them well and stay out of gossip? Then you're enough! Bravo!

Do you teach your kids to love people, show compassion and work hard? Then who cares about the wet towel! You're killing this parenting thing!

Is what you posted on social media something that encourages, makes people laugh or inspires? Then does it really matter if they hit that dumb thumbs up button? You've made Facebook a brighter place instead of adding to it's darkness. I applaud you!

Greater than all of this, though, we need to remember in Who's image we've been created. Whether you're a believer or not, I fully trust that you and I both were created from a loving Father who thinks we are pretty fantastic and at the end of the day, that's all that matters.

And His Word is filled with the reminders of how valuable we are. Not how valuable WE THINK we are. How truly, unequivocally for certain, for sure, no questions asked, VALUABLE we are.  Does this mean you'll wake up tomorrow with never having to deal with self worth issues again? No. But it should remind you that you can fight back. With an arsenal of promises from His word and the ability to flip the mirror. To recognize the false and ridiculous thoughts that begin to fill our heads like a bucket of water. To quickly drive holes in that bucket to help them fall right back out again.

That's where our power lies.

So tomorrow, should you indeed wake up, or maybe you're even struggling today, with thoughts about everything you're messing up or doing wrong. Stop. I'll stop with you.

Take a step back (away from the hole, flip the mirror and remind yourself of what you're doing right.

Change the perspective, focus on the good, nay, even great, and give yourself some credit.

That rabbit is cute and all and tea time looks sort of fun, but that Queen of Hearts is waiting for you and she's only after your head heart. Don't even bother to show up.

From possibilities to panic...

Saturday was one of the hardest days I've ever had. Ever.
Saturday, I experienced my first panic attack.

Back in July, I attended our Scentsy Family Reunion and while there, really felt challenged by God to start stepping beyond where I was. There were a few areas I could see clear direction in and some steps I needed to take to start the process of letting go of control. One of those was to finally attend Superstar Director Summit in Meridian, Idaho, the location of Scentsy home office.
This meant flying. I was going to have to fly.

I HATE FLYING.

Hate doesn't even seem to be the right word. It terrifies me. Even having conversations about it will put a deep pit in my stomach.
But it was time to grow. God was calling me into a new place with Him and that meant I had to do this. So when I got home and registration opened, I very quickly counted down from 5 and signed up. I didn't book my flight right away. I couldn't yet. I needed the courage to build up and then to press launch so my mind and fingers would spring into action and reserve my spot on a plane.
A couple weeks passed and as prices increased, I knew it needed to get it done. (I'm sort of a frugal gal and hate wasting money...which becomes ironic later in this story).
So I jumped on the website, booked my flight and then cried for an hour afterward. Every scary thought and feeling rushed over me in record time.
But it was done.
That was that.
I was financially committed and that would have to serve as the motivation to get past the other junk.

I spent the next few weeks spending hours reading, watching listening to all sorts of things to help me get on to that plane. I wanted to be, deeply, where it would take me, I just didn't want to have to get there and back how I would need to.
I watched YouTube videos from pilots on what noises are okay and why flying is safe.
I read statistics and stories on how to overcome the fear of flying.
I listened to books on coping skills and how to take control of thought patterns.
I tried 3 different medications to try and find something to dull my nerves. None of them worked.
I prayed.
I worshipped.
I tucked Scripture away in my heart.
I stood in my prayer closet Friday crying out to God to take this coat of heavy fear off of me because I was tired of wearing it.
I rebuked the enemy of my soul and reminded him that I wasn't his.
Friends showered me with beautiful words of encouragement.
Gifts to give me strength and courage.
All do be able to do something MILLIONS do every single day.
Just to get on that plane to go to Idaho.

Saturday morning, I left early to drive to Dallas. A 5 hour drive just so I could take a direct flight. Just one plane.
On that car ride, I prayed, worshipped and listened to yet another self help book to make sure I was packed and loaded with every possible "skill" I could need to battle any feelings that would rise up. I went through scenarios and kept reminding myself to just walk on, get in your seat, buckle up and put your brand new noise cancelling headphones in, blast that new Hillsong worship soundtrack and remember that you are safe. You are Gods. He will be right there with you until you land safely on the other side.

I arrived at my dear friend Kathy's house...in tears. A sudden moment of anxiety left my chest feeling tight and fear to swarm me again. We sat on her back porch and talked. My heart rate slowed, my body relaxed and we decided it was time that we head out. In this time I also talked to my husband and my best friend who both poured reassuring words over me. I listened and decided I just needed to go and get this over with.

Kathy dropped me off at the airport, hugged me tight and reminded me it would all be good and she'd pick me up on Thursday, anxious to hear all about it.
I went through security in what is probably a consistent fliers dream. No lines. No waiting. Walked right through...only to be patted down because I left something in my pocket as I was fumbling to load the plastic tubs with my belongings.

My gate was straight ahead of me so I walked to the window, put my ear buds in and watched plane after plane take off.
With each plane I counted how many seconds after take off the wheels would go up that way when I felt or heard that happen, I knew what it was.
After some time, I went and took a seat across from my gate. I prayed and tried to again soak up the words in the songs I had playing in my ears.

And then it began. Like some little whisper getting louder and louder in my head and right now, I can't even tell you what they were saying. I don't even remember.
Boarding time came and my heart began to race. All of the sudden, it was like a countdown had begun. 30 minutes was all that was left.
The tears began streaming. People walked by with their luggage and stared. I'm sure they were curious as to who must have died for me to be so distraught.
I called my husband frantic and from that point forward, I remember very little.
I know he was trying to say all the right things. Words of affirmation and love and encouragement. As I spiraled deeper, he became more direct and assertive to try and snap me out of it. I was hearing him, but I wasn't listening. Everything was fuzzy and dark. Cold and dark.
All of the coping skills I'd practiced- gone.
All of the scripture I'd memorized- gone.
All of the knowledge of how safe I would be-gone.
It wasn't like I was trying to be my normal control freak self and not trust God in this.
I wasn't even in control. I literally had NO control over my thoughts or my body. It was like some messed up outer body experience.
The bracelet I wore on my wrist, that was reminding me to walk with courage and no fear of the future, you know, my focus verse for this year, Proverbs 31:25?
 I literally wanted rip off in hopes it would break into a million pieces.
All I remember saying was, "I can't. I can't. I can't" over and over and over again.
My heart was physically hurting. I was sweating. I was dizzy. I couldn't breathe.
I think my husband could tell I was in distress because he was having to remind me to take breaths.
I was experiencing my very first panic attack, alone in this giant airport with people watching,  which magnified everything times a bazillion.

I've always struggled with some sort of anxiety. Sometimes it is absolutely manageable and something it's harder, but always controllable to some degree. I always assumed that anxiety and panic attacks were the same(ish).

I no longer feel that way. This was different. WAY different. This was all consuming, choking, asphyxiating fear. Of what exactly? I couldn't even tell you. I don't know, but I was drowning in it.

As they called for final boarding, I got off the phone, took a huge, deep breath and forced myself to walk up to the beautiful woman standing at the gate taking tickets. I desperately searched for one of those danged "Skills" to talk myself down that hall and onto that plane, but everything went blank. Everything overshadowed by this dark cloud engulfing me.
I looked her straight in the eye, face tear stained and said, "I can't"

and I walked away.

The closed the doors and that was that. Fear won. The enemy won...

And I lost hard.

I called my friend who swiftly returned to the airport to pick me up. I called my husband to tell him I was coming home. I hated what I heard on the other end. He was sad for me. As he described it, it was like a coach who'd lost the game. Nothing he had said gave me the strength to get on that plane and I think he felt as defeated as I. I could hear it. He wasn't disappointed in me, but he was disappointed for me.

I spent the evening on the back porch with my friend. We talked about life, went to Walmart for snacks and ate pizza while watching Dick Van Dyke tell about being a part of Mary Poppins and Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. I think she knew it would me medicine for my soul. She was right.

I went to bed and wrestled with the day. Replaying what I could remember trying to figure out what went wrong. What was the turning point where I felt prepared, read up, praying up and ready to an ugly, wicked panic attack. I still don't know.

The next day, yesterday, I woke up feeling like my body had been in a car wreck. Every muscle aching and sore. My neck stiff and my head throbbing.  My stomach was in knots, I was nauseous and utterly depleted. I also had heartburn all danged day. All side affects of the MAJOR rush of adrenaline I'd felt the day before. The aftershocks if you will.


I made the 5 hour drive home, tired, weepy, and anxious for rest. My sweet girls welcomed me back with a sign on the door and precious hugs. My husband, ready to deal with whatever was left of me.
He quickly encouraged me to lie down and rest, for which I was grateful.

Oh how I wish I could have been the people who walked on to that plane like it was nothing, like the momma with her little baby, who wasn't worried a bit about whether she'd land in Idaho 3 hours later. Oh I wish my body and mind wouldn't have betrayed me so.
That's what I feel like right now. Like I've betrayed myself.
And that I've also let down every single cheerleader who was rooting me on. Like I took one step forward, trying to be brave, and tumbled down the rabbit hole, 100 steps back.
My heart aches. I'm constantly teary and I am mourning what this week could have been.
I wanted to be with my friends, I wanted to discover a new place and I wanted, most of all, to overcome this stupid, stupid fear.
But it won. It won big.

This time anyway.


So today, I've sat here in a place that feels so heavy. My body still recovering, my heart so sad and my brain so tired that I'm still having trouble thinking clearly.
 I don't want to give it the power by calling it depression, but it feels a whole lot like that.

I've cried out to my God, who is so unfailing and filled with so much love for me, asking why this happened. Why didn't all that preparation matter? Why didn't all those prayers work? Why did this darkness so easily envelope me when I had worked SO, SO, SO freaking hard to be ready? WHY DIDN'T IT WORK??????????????

I sit waiting for His answer. I know it will come. When? I don't know, but I hope soon.

I don't know where I go from here. If you're one of those people who loves flying or at least manages it ok, I applaud you. Truly. I wish I had your courage. I stand in awe of it.
I don't know when I'll try again, but I hope to someday. I hope this has not left a stain that cannot be washed away from my memory so that one day, I can do it again...and succeed.

For now, I wait to hear from God. I wait for clarity and I wait for this heavy weight of disappointment to fall from my shoulders. I'll take today to take care of my body and then will go back into motion again tomorrow running my business and taking care of my family.

There is no moral to this story and I am sorry if you were waiting, ready through line after line waiting for one. No "But then this happened..." shift in the narrative. I just needed all of these thoughts and words and feelings out of me. I needed to share it. I needed you to know so you didn't judge me for not being where I should be today.

There is no redeeming, full circle moment...YET

YET.

YET.

I'm just not there...YET.

Yet means there is possibility. So for today, I hold on to the YET.

If you really knew me...

When I chose my focus verse for this year, little did I know how much I would come to rely on it's words as a reminder of who I want to become. Speaking them aloud like a war chant every time I came to a struggle I was certain I couldn't face.
"Clothed in STRENGTH and DIGNITY.; she can LAUGH without fear of the future."

I want to become this woman and it seems that once I placed this into focus January 1st, the year has spent it's time challenging those very things. Beginning with surgery for endometriosis, to making the hard decision to leave our church of 16+ years, to knowing I need to make hard decisions for the sake of personal and business growth, even if they were scary (i.e. getting on a dumb plane)

Truth is, I've often felt weak...not strong.
I've not always CHOSEN to act dignified. I have a temper and it's ugly when I feel out of control.
Fear consumes me. Not just physical fear, like what I'm experiencing now as I get ready to take a flight in a few weeks that is gut wrenchingly terrifying me, but fear that I'm just not cutting it in every area of my life... and may never.
But I don't want to be those things. I want to be the Proverbs 31:25 woman and so I press on towards all she embodies. Strength. Dignity. Fearlessness.

I think it's easy for people on the outside looking in to think that I have everything together and I can take some responsibility for that because I work very hard to give off that appearance. Why? I wish I knew. It would sure take a lot of pressure off of me to not feel like I must, but I do. I think a lot of it comes down to the fact that a lot of people rely on me to be the solid one, both in my personal life and my business life, and so there is no room for anything else. I told a friend the other day that when we understand more about people and their stories, we are able to be more empathetic to why they function like they do and therefore, it can be easier to get along with them, realizing that they're just as messed up as we are.

So if you really knew me....

You'd know that I am constantly swallowed up in self doubt.
That I lie in bed every night, thinking over the day, dissecting every minute.
"How could I have handled that situation better?"
"Was I a good enough leader for my team today? Do I even deserve to be their leader?"
"Did I take care of my customers the best I could have? Do they even like me?"
"Am I totally screwing up this PTA president thing? They probably wish they had someone better."
"Did I scar my children for life with my words or actions when I lost my temper? They'll probably tell a therapist about today when they grow up."
"Will they want to be near me when they grow up or be so disappointed in how they were raised that they leave?"
"Was I a good enough wife today?"
"Being thinner/fitter would make me better."
"I should have eaten better/worked out"
"I should have done another load of laundry."
"Am I a good enough friend?"

If you knew me, you'd know that....

My first relationship with a guy was filled with a type of abuse that still makes it hard for me to connect with my husband in a healthy way and I carry intense guilt over it, even knowing it wasn't my fault. The only people that know this about me are a couple close friends and my husband. I've never made it public knowledge before for the protection of the other person, but for me to be able to let it go, I need to say it and not hide it.

I have childhood memories of a loved one's abuser doing/saying terrible things to her which makes still makes me guarded and untrusting.

That my husband and I have been fiercely close, multiple times, to not making it because I have a hard time letting him love me and in turn, don't love him well enough. I question constantly if I even know how to.

That a family history of mental illness haunts me. I am constantly concerned that I'm slipping and losing it and worry about what will happen when I finally do. Who will suffer the most?

That anxiety is my conjoined twin. I don't know how to function with or without it and that it shows itself is some of the most unflattering ways and contributes to everything you've already read about me.

That these things, and many other events, have formed the control freak you see before you who has a very hard time even letting the God she loves guide her. Being in control feels sometimes like all I've got to hold on to, not because I think I can do things better than anyone else.

That I am the MASTER at faking it til I make it.

If you really knew me, you'd know that I'm not writing this blog post at all for pity, sympathy or as an excuse for anything I've ever said or done.

I'm writing it because I need you to really know me. To see me for who I really am. Not the facade that I wear like a cozy sweater every day. Comfortable and easier than dealing with the hard stuff.
Because I want you to know that I'm working on me....constantly.
That when I fall short in your eyes, that I fell short in my eyes too and probably even shorter and I am my own greatest enemy.
That it's okay if you feel like I do too.
That it's normal..ish.
But it doesn't have to be normal and that's what God is revealing in me.
This doesn't have to be who I am.

And in this season, right now, in August of 2017, I am fighting all that this is. I am fighting to not be that person any more. I'm tired of wearing that sweater. I'm tired of the constant self judgment that I know is a tool the enemy has used to make me feel useless and like nothing over and over again. Every single day. Every time I lay down to sleep.
I don't want to carry past hurts and disappointments like tattoos on my heart or crutches making it impossible to run towards a future God is preparing.
I don't want to feel like I'm a failure in every area of my life because I can only see my faults as they overshadow the successes.
That my kids are incredible, smart and good people that love people and I'm can be okay with taking some credit for that.
That my marriage has survived 16+ years against the odds and will continue to if we work hard on it, even when it's at it's hardest to fight for.
That my team is strong and hard working and that I'll continue to be what I can for them, stretching, learning and dream chasing for and with them.
That my customers keep coming back and that must mean I'm doing something right.
That I may not be the best PTA President, but I'm present and trying and our school has seen some great things happen because that group is there.
That past hurts don't have to define my future.
That if I actually do go crazy, then none of this will matter anyway. 😆
That it's okay for me to go find help, counseling, and that's what I'm going to do. That doesn't make me weak, it just means I know a healthy life is worth fighting for.

That at the end of the day, I am in control of NONE of it and I should find rest in that instead of anxiety.

That I CAN be strong.
That I CAN walk in dignity.
That I CAN laugh without fear of the future.

Why?

Because God.

Because God knows who I really am and He loves me still and that trumps any other feelings I may have.

Because Jesus was crucified on an ugly cross to save me from all of these ugly things.

Because the Holy Spirit will sweetly remind me that I am worthy because He is within me. I need only listen.

Because who I really am right now won't be who I am forever and for that, I am grateful.

I will be  the Proverbs 31:25 woman.... some day.

Everything was good...until it wasn't.

At the beginning of this year, I challenged myself to write every single. My only resolution of sorts.
Everything was trucking along just fine and then one day, I just couldn't write. Then that day turned into another and into another. I didn't feel good and the last thing I wanted to do was try and write pretending that I did.

This past Fall, I started having random days of just hurting. Deep in my abdomen that would often travel into my back.. I'd have it a few days, it would go away and I'd go on with life.
Then, last month, about the time I quit writing, the pain came back....and stayed.
Everything was good... until one day, it wasn't anymore.
Now, I am not one to go to the doctor. Ever. So I started trying to self diagnose.
I changed my diet,  took my vitamins, drank tons of water and nothing was changing. Well, it was, but it was just the pain getting worse.
I went to see my general practitioner about 2 weeks in because I couldn't take it any more. I was waddling when I walked because everything hurt. Even then, I didn't want to go, but I was out of ideas and needed relief.
She gave me an initial diagnosis, gave me an antibiotic and ran some tests. Tests came back fine and the medicine made the pain worse (and my sense of smelling was on another level and that was terrible. Let me just say, the world needs more Scentsy in it)
But I digress.
After another visit, more tests and no answer, I was referred to another doctor. He ran his own tests, did an ultrasound and those things came back fine. This was a moment to be thankful for because it meant there were no cysts and more importantly, no tumors and for that we give God glory.
But I was still in tremendous pain, getting dizzier each day, can't eat much, and get tired very easy. So what now? I felt like we were back at square one again and in a way, we were, but we also had some direction.
 After talking with my doctor, we have a pretty good idea we know what it is, but it's something that has to be seen to be diagnosed. No tests will show it. Only a camera and that means surgery.
So, on the 27th, I will go in for laparoscopic surgery to confirm what we expect. For the sake of my privacy and modesty, we will leave it at that. The hope is that the laparoscopy will show what we expect to be the case and we can continue forward with a treatment plan. We don't expect this to be anything life threatening, but something that will absolutely, one way or another, have to be dealt with.

Now, if you've been around me in the last few weeks, you may not have noticed anything was wrong. What you're not seeing is that I'm moving a lot slower, getting much less done in a day and am doing a lot of sitting or being still when I am around you. Also, I'm probably not around you for very long, because I'm anxious to get home to my heating pads. I'm also taking a higher dose of pain medicine to take the edge off. It makes me a little loopy, which could be entertaining for you, but not so much for me. All of this is what I like to call "Faking it until I make it".
It's not fair for me to burden those around me with my whining and at the end of the day, I still have responsibilities to fulfill, but they're all that gets done and nothing extra.

So why share this with you? Up to this point, I've been pretty private about it because well, that's just who I am. While I brag on my kiddos and share my business, talk about my shortcomings and praise my great God very openly, this was different.
But I learned something today that I think is important for anyone who is struggling to understand. Maybe not even so much learned, as chewed up and swallowed.

During this last month, I have prayed and asked God to make the pain stop. I mean, imagine feeling like you're having early labor contractions all day... every day. That's what I'm dealing with. It is both physically and mentally exhausting.
One day last week, I was climbing into my husband's truck and it hurt and I started crying. This led my oldest daughter to do the same. She is my mini me, so I had a pretty good idea of what was going through her mind. I asked what was wrong and she said she was scared for me. I told her all she needed to do was to keep praying that God would take it away. Her reply was. "But I am and He's not.". My how it hurt my heart for hers. I reminded her that God's healing comes in many forms. Sometimes by a sudden taking away and some times, because He gives doctors wisdom to take care of it. We just have to trust in whichever course it takes. How hard for her little faith to feel tested because she felt that her prayers for her mommy were going unanswered, but I understood. I felt the same way.
And then I began having trouble praying about it.
I just couldn't.
Words failed me.
It wasn't getting better, it was just getting worse and I didn't understand why.
The enemy really started using that against me and my prayers went from "God please take this away" to "God, I don't know what to say anymore." to "God, you know my heart".
How did I get to a place where I couldn't even pray for myself anymore?
I believe fully in spirit filled healing. 100%. I've seen it. I KNOW He heals, so why am I not being healed?
Then, when I went to my appointment yesterday, and surgery became the next step, part of me felt relief because hope was in sight and part TREMENDOUS guilt. Had I not been trusting God enough to take care of it?  Was I not praying right enough, often enough, asking the right way? Was surgery me giving up on His healing?  Was I sinning by having surgery? Typing these things out now, they seem silly. If I were hearing someone else say those things, I would immediately tell them those were all lies from Hell, but in that moment, that's not what I felt. I sat in the waiting room of the lab department for pre-op bloodwork and cried. I was scared. Disappointed. Worried.

But then, this morning, my sweet friend Carla called. I shared with her the fear I've been facing, the questions, the confusion, the downright angst. How was it that if this was anyone else, I would know what to say and how to pray, but now that its me, I feel bound? Helpless? Weak?
She spoke the most precious words into my heart and reminded me that all those feelings were from one source alone and that was the enemy. Clearly taking advantage of a tired momma who just wants life to feel normal again. A momma who feels like she's burdening her family and can't do much without feeling exhausted. He was the one convincing me that I wasn't loving God enough or trusting Him enough. God wasn't making me feel that way, satan was. Because I've been so ill, I've missed many church services which make my spirit feel even weaker. I'm trying to compensate by doing a devotional and listening to worship, but it's different. He knew that and it made it that much easier for him. Healing can come in so many forms and maybe this is the form mine will come in. It doesn't mean I've given up on God. It means I'm trusting that this is the way He intends to make me well and the fact is, there is still time for it to be made whole before surgery happens. If that's what God's plan is, awesome! If it's not, I have finally found peace in knowing that's okay too.

What I need to share with you to and is my whole point in sharing this is that when it comes to your physical, mental, spiritual, financial or relationship health, God is in it as long as you're letting Him be in it. He is moving on the scene and He is making a way for wholeness. It may be hard to see Him at work, but if you've taken that situation and handed it over to Him, then you have to be okay with whatever He decides to do with it. However He decides to do it.
That's the hard part for me. I'm a control freak. But I think this trial is part of His teaching me to let that go. His ways are always greater than ours. Every. Single. Time.
Healing and wholeness may not come in the form we expect. It could look totally different. Your job, my job, is to lay it at His feet, ask for His peace to fill our hearts and then let Him do His thing.

Secondly, when someone you love asks you to pray for them, really pray. I can admit there have been times where I have said I would pray and then got distracted or busy and totally failed that friend. Not on purpose, but because I wasn't being intentional.
What these last few weeks have shown me was that some times, when people are asking, it's because they're having trouble going before the thrown themselves. They feel speechless before God and need an intercessor. I want to never fail to intercede for another again. I have been resting in their prayers over me because I couldn't pray those words myself and I have been so grateful for them.

Having surgery is the right choice. I have peace in that now. Carla's words were medicine to my soul. Do I want to have it? No. Will I? Yes.
I know some of you reading this are probably thinking that this is just a small surgery (and it is) and that it really shouldn't be causing this much turmoil in my heart.  It shouldn't be, you're right, but it has been. I think when you've felt bad for so long, lots of things feel heavier than normal and if the enemy thinks he can take advantage of that. My cheeks feel tear stained, my eyes puffy and my body tired.

Carla reminded me that He is mine and I am His. The daughter of a King who loves me and will make me well again and in this case, through surgery. That seeking help isn't mistrust in Him. It's using the gift we have in great doctors,  good medicine and capable hands. That takes faith too.

So, if you're still reading this terribly long post, can I ask you to pray for me on the 27th and the days between now and then? For a safe and productive surgery that brings about complete healing and for my spirit to be quieted and listen for God's reassurance when the enemy tries to force feed his lies? I would be so grateful and in turn, will do the same for you.
Also, if you see my hubby or kids, give them some mad props for putting up with me. It hasn't been easy.
I don't even know is most of this made sense, but this is just my heart right now. If it didn't, well, then we will just blame the hydrocodone, k? K. :)

...And then I found a dollar!

Sunday evening, before church started, the husband of Abby's Sunday school teacher approached Josh and I to tell us a story about Abby in class. 

As we've discussed before, Abby is a care free child with a tremendous imagination and spirit and so every time we hear those first few words, we can be sure an interesting story is to follow.

He proceeded to tell us about when they took up the offering in Sunday school a of weeks ago and how Abby had a really hard time letting go of the dollar she had ready to give. She really, really wanted to keep it and was struggling with what to do. Her teacher gently encouraged her to give, reminding her why we do and so, probably somewhat reluctantly, Abby handed over her dollar

Abby loves money which is not a trait we encourage around here. I don't want the girls to grow craving more and more because that isn't what bring happiness. It just brings stuff. However,  any time Abby has any amount of money, she wants to find some "treasure" to spend it on. Katie, on the other hand, is a saver. So for Abby, handing over that dollar bill to the offering felt quite sacrificial. She probably had already made a list of things she could have spent it on. 

Fast forward to this last Sunday and Abby is back in Sunday School. Excitedly, she tells her teachers  God "paid her back" for giving her dollar in the offering "and then I found a dollar!" she shares.

A dollar on the ground one day that week and was just sure that's why it was there. (she also found $5 under the washer and decided that was hers too, but that's another hilarious story for another day. She probably thought God was SUPER proud of her ;) )

Anyway, we laughed and laughed about it and got such a kick out of how Abby was sure this was God showing her how faithful He was. We had a chat about how God doesn't always reward obedience with financial blessings. Sometimes he will bless us in other ways, some seen and some, not so much some times. Whether God intended the lesson to be learned through this or not, Abby saw God as faithful that day. 

One of my favorite songs growing up was 'Great is Thy Faithfulness'. An old hymn, but a good one.  It's chorus reads...

Great is Thy faithfulness!

Great is Thy faithfulness!

Morning by morning new mercies I see.

All I have needed Thy hand hath provided;

Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me!

 

God's faithfulness is SO great. Each and every day, He is meeting our needs. Some times, He does it in a big, gigantic display catching our attention immediately. Other times, it's in small, almost unrecognizable ways that take a focused eye to catch. Either way, He is in them. Every detail, every need. He is there. He knows every concern we have laid on our heart. Every worry and every fear. All we need to do is lay them before His feet and remain obedient to His will.

Early in our marriage, we dealt with a lot of financial insecurity. Layman's terms...we were broke. There were times we'd be at church and Josh would remind me to write our tithes check and I'd think to myself, "with what money?". How was I supposed to tithe when we had bills due and barely enough to cover them? But knowing in my heart that God called us to be obedient to Him, I would write the check. I remember praying at the same time telling God that I was sorry in advance for it's probability of bouncing. Yep. I did. But can I tell you what happened? Every single time? Something would show up. An opportunity to work for extra money, a late wedding gift in the mail or a bill would be smaller than expected. He was faithful. Unwavering. New mercies we saw.

I mentioned before that God's favor and faithfulness doesn't always show up in cash form. Some times when what we think we need is money, there is something greater to be had that will make a bigger impact on where we are in life.

We simply must seek God and pray for Him to provide and in turn, show us in what ways we need to be obedient so we don't miss out. To help train our eyes to see His faithfulness in our struggle.

If you have a need you are praying about right now, don't question for a moment if God is in the midst. Even if it feels like something small compared to a big world of problems. 

I could tell you story after story of my own whispered prayers and how I questioned whether I should even be asking for what was on my heart. But I did and He answered. Every time. Not always in the way I had planned, but in ways even greater than I could have every imagined. 

Now, did God leave that dollar on the sidewalk for Abby to find that day to "pay her back" to her faithfulness in tithing?  We do know that tithing is a big deal to God and so maybe it was. Maybe it was an early lesson to show her that He will always provide, even when it "hurts" to give. Who knows really and honestly, it doesn't even matter.

Because whether it was or it was just some fluke, this one thing will always remain.

He. Is. Faithful.

To Abby.

To me.

And to you.

Defeater or Defeated

Yes. That is a poo emoji. On my pretty blog. That's where we are today.
Today, well let's be real, this whole weekend has been poo. Legitimate poo.
My kids were nuts all weekend, choosing obedience very few times and ornery, rule bending most of the time. I yelled...a lot. I got made at my husband for stupid stuff. Projects I tried to work on weren't going like they needed too and I felt icky to top it all off.
Last night in bed before we fell asleep, I told my husband that I often feel like the world is either against me or wants something from me. Either way, I feel defeated... a lot.

After some praying, I woke up today with a refreshed spirit (or so I thought). I was in a good mood, was feeling some better, had my coffee and was ready to knock off some things sitting on my to do list with a song of praise in my heart.
Then, it started happening... again.
Nothing was working.
Reports I needed weren't pulling up, some recognition gifts I was working on were being toal booger faces and my attitude was getting worse and worse.
I don't want to do this again. The weekend was enough. I don't want to start another day like this. It was then I decided I would try and listen to some praise and worship to relieve my heart of the frustration it felt. Wanna know what happened? Pandora wouldn't work. Fine, find Pandora. Don't work. I'll use Youtube instead. Guess what? Yep. Nada. Wasn't working either.
So I got mad.
Super mad.
But not at the stuff I was working on or the technology that hated me, but at the Enemy. The Devil. Lucifer himself.

You see, as Christians, sometimes we forget or even dismiss where our trouble stems from.
We blame other things when the root of the chaos comes from Hell itself.
Does the enemy want me to seize my day? No.
Does he want me to be in a good mood? No.
Does he want me to be a frustrated, broken, yelling, defeated woman? YES!

So I got mad and I told him about it. I reminded him Who's I was. I reminded him that he has not hold on me and that he had not control over my business, my family, my mind or my heart. That my children are God's, that my marriage is God's and that I am God's.
I became indignant. No more.

My friends, we are not defeated. Yes, stuff is straight up crummy some times...a lot of times. Things don't go our way, relationships are hurting, we are hurting, our kids are exhausting, but we are not defeated.

Instead, we MUST decide to take our place as Defeaters. We hold the power you see. We are the victors here as long as we take that authority and stand strong with it. Will that make all the hard stuff disappear? Not at all, but what it will do is make us stronger through it. Able to walk tall, indignant and with a force no enemy can stand against.
No matter what promises you're standing on, you have all authority to take any hold Satan might have on them away.
You just simply have to tell him. In Jesus' name.

Back to this morning, I got mad and then I prayed. Within minutes of praying, music started working, my silly vinyl letter E that went mysteriously missing for my project was found stuck to the back of my finger and my reports started behaving. Funny, right?

My dear friends, I am not defeated. You are not defeated. We ARE defeaters through Christ.
Recognize who's fighting against you today. Tell him he has to flee and then find your rest, your peace, your victory knowing that YOU are a child of the King.
Defeater.
NOT Defeated.

Don't be a pew warmer...

It's Sunday which means it's church day.
For our family, there is no question of whether or not we will go when the church doors are open. Yes, sometimes things get in the way, but when we are the ones deciding, we are there.
Not only because we are believers and love our Pastors and their leading, not only because we love our God, but because we serve in our church.

It is too often that people inside the church arrive at 11, leave at 12 and leave to check of their weekly worship on their 'to do' list. No volunteering, no serving, no looking for opportunities to be a blessing to the church and what it tries to accomplish.
It is so unfortunate, because they have a spot to fill made just for them, but instead, they're simply pew warmers.

God has blessed every single person with certain talents and gifts. Talents and gifts He wants us to use in every day life to be a blessing to those around us and in the end, make this world a much better place. That applies to whether you're a believer or not because not being one doesn't take that truth away.
What happens unfortunately is the people within in the church do one of two things.
They either consciously decide that they're not going to be any part outside of attending service or they don't feel valuable enough to find that place to serve.

My message to you today is this. Find your place.

A church isn't built by 4 walls. It is built by the people inside it. If everyone sits back passively, letting the Pastor and paid staff do all the work, that church will fail.
Your church needs Sunday school teachers who love kids, teens or even leading adults through life.
Your church needs your guitar playing abilities, your in tune voice and your awesome praise leading abilities.
Your church needs help running the sound, setting up for events, or your kind smile greeting people at the door.
Your church needs your fearlessness to reach people in the community.
It needs people who stand in front of the crowd and those who do quiet work behind the scenes. Collectively these people create the church experience that makes an impact in the community.

If you church doesn't need these things, there is a church out there that does. Pray for God to open your eyes to where He wants you to be. He didn't give you the gifts He did for them to sit on a dusty shelf. Someone is missing out because you're not in their life.

Our church is currently going through a transition and so I see this in such a different way now. I look across our congregation that is filled with so many different, neat gifts, but not everyone chooses to use them. I even see it in my friends outside the church who have so much to give and no where to give it. There is a place for you in a church. Not just to go sit, sing, learn and leave, but to serve, grow, be a part of something great.

Look for those opportunities. Ask for them if they're not there. Pray for what part you're supposed to play. No church is perfect. Want to know why? They're not made up of perfect people. Just willing ones. Don't know what your gifts are? I bet your leadership can help you figure it out.

Stop sitting idly by. Don't just be a pew warmer. You have too much good to give.

The Imposter...

I hear it a lot. Too much in fact. The phrase, "You're like Wonder Woman!"

I don't like it because it's really not true. If it was, I'd be an imposter.

I get where it's coming from and I totally understand why people say it to me. If I were on the outside looking in, I'd probably say it too. I mean, here I am, a mom, wife, leader, business owner, PTA president, Sunday school teacher, church team leader who seemingly has it all together.

But truth bomb...I'm a hot mess. 

What my sweet friends and others don't see is that my constant need to do so much stems from a desire to feel valued, not from a place of trying to impress.

I also never want to be a burden on anyone. It's why I won't push myself into friendships or why I have a horrible time delegating when I do take things on. While yes, it is partly my control issues, the fear of being a burden is the controlling factor.

I over commit, try to be the best at a lot of different things and work tirelessly, some times to a point of making myself sick, trying to make sure everyone around me is happy, just so I feel worthy. 

Not because I'm a people pleaser (because truthfully, I really don't care anymore if everyone likes me), but because I need the approval. I do what I do because I want you to think I'm valuable enough to have in your life. Sad, isn't it?

Do you want to know what the worst part is though? The "light bulb" moment of reality that I had not too long ago?

My desire to feel valued and worthy of those around me and what I do to attain that, only leaves me feeling less and less valuable. Dirty rotten trick, isn't it?

I remember a birthday party I went to when I was 11. I was the unpopular kid of the group and am certain I was invited because everyone else was and it would be rude to leave me out.  I was left out anyway. The whole time. So what did I do? I helped the parents clean up while the other kids played. They seemed so appreciative. They made me feel valued when my peers did not. That is my first memory of trying to impress others so I felt like I belonged. I've done it ever since. 

I think the worst part of it all is that it's my husband and kids who get the raw end of this deal. The broken me. The tired me. The bitter me. They don't get the best of me. Everyone else does. They get the leftovers.

Now, let's pause this post a moment. I am not writing this for pity. That is not how I roll, ever. I am writing it for transparency. For you to understand that while I may look like I have it all together on the outside, that I am a flipping hot mess on the inside. It's because of my insecurities that I feel like I have to be this way. Not because I am just that cool. I'm not. At all. I am flawed.

The honest to goodness truth about this flaw is that I hit walls and HARD! 

Walls where I feel broken and lonely and exhausted after doing all this "stuff" for everyone around me and I can't figure out why my cup isn't left overflowing. I even get bitter about it when I'm the most weary. 

When we do for others, we're supposed to feel good, right? That's what it should feel like and often it does, but the root of my own problem is this. I don't value MYSELF enough to let those things fill that cup. 

Here is the good news though my friends. I'm working on it and the greatest truth I am seeing as I strive to not let the enemy make me feel like I'm junk. That I'm a bad friend, a bad wife, a bad mom, a bad leader, a bad everything. Unvalued. Unworthy. 

I am a child of the King.

No matter what I do or do not do, who I please or don't please, I am His. My feeling of worth cannot come from within or from the outside. It has to come from knowing that I am esteemed, loved, set apart, pursued and loved by Him. More precious than rubies even when I feel like coal.

As someone who struggles so much with self worth, understanding and fully accepting this part of God's goodness is a hard thing to do, but I'm getting there.

This all being said, does that mean I'm going to quit doing all the things I do? Probably not. Let's be real, I'll probably do more. It's the fault in who I am, but I'm going to work on continually seeking God's guidance in those things and ask that He remind me daily how precious I am to him. No matter how I feel.

Because that is where I will find my true value. It's where you can find yours too.

So you see, I'm not Wonder Woman. Not even a super mom. I'm just Amanda.  Full of flaws, but ever growing Amanda.