The Book

Well hello there, friends. It's been quite a while since I've sat in front of my computer and shared my thoughts with you all, so I figured that there was no better time than the present.

I took a sabbatical from blogging for a while; partly due to the fact that life got super busy, partly due to the fact that I felt like I had run out of things to say, but mostly because I didn't believe that I was in the right head space to sit and tell you all about God's goodness in my life because--honestly--I wasn't feeling it...

But isn't this why I write? To be honest and open and share my whole heart with you even though I may not feel worthy enough? I don't write to shout out my perfection (because I am FAR from perfect), I write to share my humanity, my struggles, my frustrations, and my hope. My God is a one of redemption and hope; renewal and revival; truth and grace. That is why I sit here and type in the middle of the night.

I've spent my life as the pastor's kid. The helpful, kind, silly, albeit feisty, oldest child of two super rad parents. I've grown up as "mommy's little helper" and "daddy's little princess." I've never had a problem with being seen as mature or nurturing or responsible or etc. I only take issue with those labels when I feel like I'm not living up to them. I've come to expect perfection from myself, and along the way I've gotten it into my head that that is what everyone else expects from me as well.

I've made myself into the strong, steady, stable "mother" of my friend group--a role that I love and wear proudly, but somehow I've come to associate stable with perfect, and steady with stoic, and strong with...well unshakable. I have put it upon myself to slap weakness in the face and push it to the ground and stomp on it (just for good measure). I've told myself that my struggle, my insecurities, my issues should be pushed aside because there are others who NEED me to be strong.

This past year, the plans that I have so thoughtfully made and the emotions I have so strongly felt vanished in an instant--granted, God has been good and made a way for those plans to work themselves out, but through it all, I've struggled with waves of melancholy so strong that there have been days when my entire body feels like cement. I feel tired, emotional, and alone. I sit and pray, "Please Lord heal me. Make me joyful, give me peace, heal my heart." I cry because I am too afraid to tell anyone how I feel because I worry it will ruin the facade I've so cleverly and expertly created for myself. I get angry because my inner control freak and perfectionist has ZERO control over these thoughts and emotions.

If you know me you may understand that I am a planner. I am a perfectionist. When things go a way that is not how I planned, I freak. I require total and utter control over every situation and emotion I face. But, the other day I heard a voice. It couldn't have been mine because it said something I would never say in a million years: "your life isn't yours."

And suddenly I felt such a calm and such a lightness to my body. It was as if someone had lifted 100 pounds off of my shoulders. It was freeing and a bit overwhelming. In a moment I was struck by the goodness and redemption and sovereignty of the Creator. A while back, I had decided that He wasn't listening to me; that He didn't have a plan for me; that He might not even hear me, but I think He was just waiting for me. Waiting for me to give it up and COMPLETELY and TOTALLY give all my fears, insecurities, imperfections to Him. For me to say "you're right. It's not my life. It's yours, so I should stop trying to control it."

I've learned that God doesn't snap His fingers and make us joyful--He asks us to look to Him for our joy. He doesn't cure us of our imperfections just like that--he asks us to give them up to him so that He may renew and reshape our hearts. He never once has asked us to be perfect pillars of strength--He asks us to let Him be our pillar of strength.

If there's one thing I hope that you can glean from this "book" I hope it's this: we can kick and scream and fight for control, but we'll never have it. I'm still learning that it's ok to let hurt and pain and weakness show--it's what makes us humans and not robots. It's great to be stable and steady, but don't let those qualities turn into your identity. Being a perfectionist isn't bad, but letting it stop you from receiving the full grace and goodness of Christ isn't doing you any favors.