Am I letting this mess define me or Redefine me?
This week was not an easy week, something that hurts my pride to admit. I’m recently rediscovering how hard it is for me to reach out to others and be honest with where I’m at. It’s one thing to vaguely reference that you’re fine, it’s another when it’s real and raw in that moment and you can choose to accept encouragement and comfort or put up a wall. It’s remarkably effortless to preach to yourself and others that in your weakness God is strong. That is, until the struggle becomes hard again out of nowhere, or the night lasts ten times longer than the day. Maybe for some, this subject is just a little too melodramatic or it simply hits too close to home (ahem, me).
However, and I can’t know for sure, I do believe that behind the majority of “how are you doing?” “Oh I’m good” answers, are just as many people who are not actually great.
WE ARE TERRIFIED OF WHAT OTHERS THINK OF US.
And by we, I mean me. Just throwing it out there. Yes, I know I am a daughter of the King. Yes, I know My identity lies in my Father. I know I am beloved and adored. I know I’m enough in Christ. I know I can be confident in that. But in my day to day human existence, my brain sort of tosses that knowledge out the window more often than not. Truth is, I subconsciously care WAY more about what people think than I would care to admit (yet here we are). I’m scared out of my pants that I’ll say something stupid and that’s all a person will remember me for. I’m petrified that people see me and see a mess, see that I’m failing as an adult (whatever that means), failing to work hard enough, failing academically, failing financially. I become anxious about confiding in people and asking for help because I would rather die than feel like a burden (I’m not dramatic at all if you can’t tell).
I get cold-feet when toying with the idea of trying something new, knowing a heck of a lot of people already do it way better than I could. The point I’m trying to make in so embarrassingly laying all my insecurities out on the table is this: Despite what you may see when you look at me or what you think about me, whatever the heck that is, it’s probably wrong, or at least not the entire truth. Now, I’m not saying this is necessarily a bad thing. It would be highly, socially awkward if we poured out our hearts to every random person we come in contact with. And not everyone deserves to know how you’re really doing, that’s reserved for those who truly care. What I am saying is this:
YOU'RE NOT ALONE.
"We are all struggling, most of us are just still superb at playing pretend."
A friend sent me a podcast a couple weeks ago (yes I listen to a lot of podcasts) about walking in the light. It was a refreshing reminder of what I apparently need to consistently pound into my brain.
“Come descendants of Jacob, let us walk in the light of the Lord (Isiah 2:5).”
I am a Child of God, I have a birthright to walk in the light of Christ, but what does that really mean? Like a lot of the Bible, it tends to sound great but never gets applied in our daily lives. There’s something I’ve had to remind myself of repeatedly, Satan loves isolation, thrives on it actually. When I’m struggling it’s far to easy to keep it to myself, because if people knew I was imperfect they might begin to judge me. Ah isn’t pride a beautiful thing.
When we walk alone, in shame and fear, we walk in darkness. But Christ never created us for that, as an individual and a body of believers we are called to walk in the light. This means you leave the secrets behind, drop the act, and pull the shame off your back. Because, in all honesty, the most comforting thing is when someone else says, “me too.”
I struggle with trusting God’s plan for my life. “Me too.”
I feel like a failure. “Me too.”
I’m scared. “Me too.”
I worry about what they’ll think. “Me too.”
I don’t think I’ll ever be enough. “Me too.”
I’m still struggling with this sin. “Me too.”
“For to set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the spirit is life and peace (Romans 8:6).”
The woman who spoke in the podcast about walking in the light, talked about how she felt like a complete hypocrite. She had written a book on anxiety and fear, and how to overcome that. Yet, after all this, she found herself walking through a season of deep depression, anxiety, and fear. Waking up at night, simply overcome with terrible heaviness, she wondered where she went wrong. As I’ve mentioned before, I tend to think of a struggle as a one and done deal. Not how life works unfortunately. Yet this mentality leaves me often feeling like that woman, a hypocrite. The enemy loves to taunt me, and one of his best tricks is fear of what others think. Specifically, when pertaining to struggles. When I’m going through something difficult, He tells me I can’t be there for others at the same time. Not until I get my problems right.
If I were to look into a mirror of life this is what I would see: A mess, a complete and utter mess. A life that always tries but never quite reaches that unattainable finish line. A girl who’s scared to death of life. A woman who never quite feels like enough. And on each side of the mirror, is the father of lies and the King of truth. One looks at the same mirror, sees the same mess I do and tells me, with a face full of disgust,
“Ya, all that, it simply won’t do. You need to hide it all a little better and pull yourself together before you even think about interacting with other people, much less trying to encourage them.”
The other one, the Father of truth, also beholds the mirror, sees the same mess, yet responds with something truly different. With a love in His eyes He affirms,
“Come. That mess, it’s my mess and it’s beautiful. That finish line, you were never meant to reach it. That girl’s fear will become her greatest joy. That woman who doesn’t feel like enough, she’s more than enough through me. But I want that mess, just the way it is.”
There’s a certain freedom that comes with putting the truth in front of the mirror every day, rather than the lies. There’s a spark of joy where a fear ruled your life. There’s a confidence in knowing it doesn’t matter what man thinks because you know what HE thinks. There’s empowerment in walking in light of your mess and realizing it’s a beautiful thing, not something to be ashamed of.
“For to set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the spirit is life and peace (Romans 8:6).”
"Come. That mess, it’s my mess and it’s beautiful."
See, walking in the light means walking with your mind set on Christ. There, you find life and peace. There you are free to be honest about where you are at, free from shame and fear, free from lies. But when we hide and play pretend with our hearts and lives, we’ve become more focused on the flesh, on man. In this position there is only death and chains, a constant fear of the world and your place in it.
At the end of each day my greatest desire is to be able to look back and say with confidence that I Walked in the fear of the Lord and not man. I loved hard and freely, afraid of losing nothing. I walked in confidence and empowered others instead of giving into insecurities, comparing and living in envy. I walked in the light, free to be the beautiful mess I am. With Christ beside me, I walked that day, and without fear was able to simply say,
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