Awkwardness is part of the process...

Have you ever had the experience of becoming aware of something, or focusing on something for the first time, and suddenly you see it all around you?  ?  Like last year an out of state visitor commented to me that she had never seen so many "Q's" on license plates in her life as she had while touring Colorado... and then for the next six months I could barely find a license plate without one! (as aside... here is a bonus link that explains that phenomenon).  Well.. that's how it's been for me this past month since I chose "Brave" as my word for 2016 and have taken on this intention to live courageously and authentically.

Last month I attended a panel discussion about "Why life matters?" (I know.. deep, right?) One of the many focuses of this discussion was understanding the #blacklivesmatter movement.  On the panel were two African American pastors who shared their perspectives on this topic and on why life matters in general, and they were asked by an audience member how the Caucasian community can best convey to the black community that they absolutely DO matter to us!  His answer was beautifully simple... and utterly challenging.  In short, he responded by saying that we convey that by taking interest... by building relationships.. .by asking questions... by hearing their stories.  Because people love to tell their story, and they feel valued when you care enough to ask.  In the midst of that conversation, he pointed out that typically, most of us gravitate toward those who are most "like" us, because maybe it feels awkward to engage in a conversation with someone who is different. Then he said, "awkwardness is part of the process," .... and I was profoundly touched by that simple phrase....

Awkwardness is part of the process.....

How much truth is packed into those six words?   How well does that sentence define the very heart of bravery... of growth... of building relationships... of change... of almost everything that we love in life?  It's awkward to get better at something.  It's awkward to speak up when you disagree.  It's awkward to expose your heart - whether to a friend or a stranger.  But aren't all these things worth the awkwardness and discomfort and struggle to produce the final result? New relationships. New understanding. New abilities.  It is awkward being brave...

Then I was perusing TED and I stumbled across this talk:

On being wrong

 Hmm... sounds like something I wrote about elsewhere on overcoming fear of failure... so I watched it.  Whoa! Some of the best 17 minutes 44 seconds I've spent this year so far...  (or I should say best 35 minutes.... because I watched it twice...)  Truly.... You MUST watch this talk.

In it, Kathryn Schulz challenges us to step outside of our "bubbles of right-ness" to appreciate the wonders of this world just full of things we are wrong about.  She quotes the great St. Augustine who said, "Ferro, ergo sum"... I err, therefore I am human.  How is it that we have missed that?  How is that we have even been trained....  from kindergarten on... that being wrong is so... well...wrong!?  When, in fact, it is at the very essence of our humanity.

I'd never heard of the speaker, Kathryn Schultz so, after her TED talk moved me to tears, I Googled her and learned she's a journalist for the New Yorker magazine who has written three books already! And in her most recent, she has touched on a theme so common to humanity that she spoke at TED 2011 and her talk has been watched in excess of 3 million times!  How had I not heard of her?  Maybe the universe was waiting for me to choose to focus on being Brave... because for years I've been stuck in the very tension of perfectionism and "rightness" that she talks about.  Being wrong was probably one of my greatest fears.  Until now....

I share all of this with you because this is MY year of being Brave, and I hope to take more risks and question more assumptions and continue to "put myself out there" no matter how awkward.  But I also hope that somehow MY being brave will pave the way for others to be brave, too ... that maybe I could cause a ripple effect where we all take off the armor and risk speaking truth, building relationships, facing conflict, listening, trying something new.  Because ultimately it is in the messy awkwardness and the wrongness of our lives that the true beauty, complexity and power lie.

And I'd love to hear your stories of pushing through the awkwardness to find out what's on the other side.

Thanks for reading. 

The stories we tell ourselves...

I saw this meme on Facebook the other day:

and I had two instantaneous and opposite reactions.

The first was... "You can say THAT again!" I totally related to the "didn't go as planned" part.  But, as I moved my mouse to click on "Share," I heard another voice say, "No!  No... It's NOT OK!" ... and I withdrew my urge to post the sentiment on my wall.  I turned away from what I could only claim as a half truth, and I sadly scrolled along.... I did not recognize the significance of that internal dissonance.... Maybe because I've gotten so good at distracting myself at moments like that with any number of more urgent matters.

But the message didn't really go away... and after weeks of some shifty, clouded, unspecified grumpiness.... the kind that simmers at the surface while something bigger is boiling underneath... I took the time to confront my inner strife and I discovered something.  I looked cold in the face of the reality that I DON'T think my life is OK.

       .... I don't think it's OK that I'm on my third marriage with a heart scarred by abuse, abandonment and addiction.
       ....I don't think it's OK that even this marriage, though safe and comfortable, has no passion and little unity.
       .... I don't think it's OK that I've wandered through various careers and at 46 I have yet to figure out what I want to be when I grown up.
     .... I don't think it's OK that I have, at best, fragile, tentative relationships with my children ...
     ....  I don't think it's OK that NONE of this is how it was supposed to turn out....

As I faced these truths another thought arose... "How it was supposed to turn out ... according to what script?"  What is the story I have been telling myself all of these years by which I am apparently measuring the "rightness" of my reality?  Where did that story come from?

There is this picture in my head of what "was supposed to be".... a two parent home with a decades long marriage at the hub and healthy, confident, happy children in well adjusted and deeply bonded orbit around them.... a meaningful ministry.... esteem ... not wealth, per se, but financial stability... clarity... peace.... happily ever after??

The story comes partly from fairy tales, and partly from dear friends whose lives honestly look an awful lot like that.  Friends with decades long marriages... healthy, confident kids.... meaningful ministries.... They, along with Cinderella fairy tales from long, long ago, have become a measuring stick in my mind ... and I don't measure up.   Despite the battles I fought and won, the lives I've influenced, the obstacles I've climbed over and the successes I do enjoy, a dissatisfaction lingers.  No... more than dissatisfaction... it's regret... or grief... or .. dare I say?.... envy?!   But it's all based on this story of "supposed to be..."  This fantasy life I have engraved in my subconscious that silently screams... "This is NOT OK!!"

So... this ugliness in my heart is now exposed, and as I stare at it I come to understand that this story of how my life was "supposed to be" has robbed me of the ability to take joy in what it IS.  It has kept me locked in a state of "would haves" and "should haves" and "if only's" and those messages have formed bars of shame around my soul.

I need to be free from this prison... from this false script of someone else's life, not mine.

Then God whispers....

"... you are My handiwork.... created in Christ Jesus to do good works.... which I have prepared in advance for you to walk in.... "

"... you are My handiwork.... created in Christ Jesus to do good works.... which I have prepared in advance for you ... "

"... you are My handiwork.... created in Christ Jesus to do good works.... which I have prepared in advance for you .... "

"... you are My handiwork.... created in Christ Jesus to do good works.... which I have prepared in advance for you .... "

"... you are My handiwork.... created in Christ Jesus to do good works.... which I have prepared in advance for you .... "

"... you are My handiwork.... created in Christ Jesus to do good works.... which I have prepared in advance for you .... "

Prepared in advance.... Prepared in advance??

And it hits me..... God has a story for my life... a script He lovingly and painstakingly wrote... and I'm living it.  It is MY story... because I am HIS handiwork.... and I measure up perfectly to the story He had planned for me.  My husband... my kids.... my career.... my body.... all of it.  Prepared in advance.... beautifully woven.... Messily mighty.

So I'm here with you to declare that I am throwing out the make believe story in my mind that diminishes the blemished beauty of what IS.  That I am freeing myself from the prison of "if only's" and celebrating the ways God is using my trauma and brokenness to touch others.

I'm here to challenge you to look at the "supposed to be" stories you've been telling yourself as well.  and to realize our stories are also far from over...

... and they didn't go as WE planned...

..... But that's OK.....  

Why Authenticity Matters

I started this blog out of a desire to share my story in an authentic way to empower others to see the value and the beauty in their stories as well.  My target audience is women (no offense, guys, but I GET women), and particularly women who have walked through abuse or addiction or co-dependency.  As women, our heart is our greatest weakness, because we will love and give and nurture and connect and support at great cost to ourselves without hesitation.  But our hearts are also our greatest strength, because we will love and give and nurture and connect and support at great cost to ourselves without hesitation.   Do you see the paradox?  It is the very paradox of Christ himself – “Greater love has no one than this – to lay down one’s life for one’s friends” (John 15:13, New International Version).  Our hearts get us into trouble, because we get hurt and used and abandoned and disappointed time and again.  Our tendency toward unconditional love is risky, but I firmly believe – and said in an earlier blog post - that we must never stop taking those risks.  C.S. Lewis famously put it this way:

To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable. (The Four Loves).

 

I believe with all of my heart that authenticity is the key to freedom, to relationships, to healing and wholeness, to connection and to life itself.  Yet it seems a rare commodity.  How is authenticity possible in a world full of hackers and scammers and users and abusers?

First, my authenticity is only possible because I am redeemed by the blood of the Lamb!  Without Christ my story is simply about broken-ness, but through Christ, my story is about redemption and healing.  Authenticity, however, requires that I tell the WHOLE story – and that includes the broken-ness part.  As such, there is beauty in broken-ness because the story doesn’t end with my failures or losses or tragedies.  I heard Joyce Meyer say it this way last weekend, “The biggest way we can give Satan a black eye is to give God our mess and let Him make it our message."  That is what drives my authenticity. 

But Scripture also challenges me over and over again to focus on truth, and isn’t truth at the very heart of authenticity?  There are well over a hundred verses in the Bible that speak of truth (or lack of truth), but these are some of my favorites:

Lord, who may dwell in your sacred tent? Who may live on your holy mountain?  The one whose walk is blameless, who does what is righteous, who speaks the truth from their heart. Psalm 15:1, 2

Guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long.  Psalm 25:5

In your majesty ride forth victoriously in the cause of truth, humility and justice; let your right hand achieve awesome deeds.  Psalm 45:4

Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free. John 8:32

I, the Lord, speak the truth; I declare what is right. Isaiah 45:19

These are the things you are to do: Speak the truth to each other, and render true and sound judgment in your courts.  Zechariah 8:16

But whoever lives by the truth comes into the light, so that it may be seen plainly that what they have done has been done in the sight of God.  John 3:21

Yet a time is coming and has now come when the true worshipers will worship the Father in the Spirit and in truth, for they are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks. John 4:23

Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 1 Corinthians 13:6

Our Abba God loves authenticity. He loves the truth of our stories and the truth of our hearts, no matter how broken or bleeding.  I'm here to tell my story... care to tell yours?

           

Hiding in plain sight....

She stood in the pew by herself, perfectly put together. Golden honey colored hair cascaded around her gentle features which were carefully accented with mascara and blush, but not over done. She smiled and her deep blue eyes did not look down when the pastor invited everyone to greet one another in the name of the Lord.  She shook hands with those around, asked their names, welcomed them and maybe even attempted a moment of small talk.  She was confident, articulate, even warm... on the outside.  After the service she left the church as lonely as she walked in.  Hiding in plain sight. Broken beneath the beauty.  She returned to her "shoulds" and "musts" and the ticking clock of her to do lists.  She withheld the true beauty of her presence because she couldn't afford to slow down and just be.  She vaguely knew there must be more to life than being busy and perfect and oh so successful.  The longing truly to know and be known tugged at her like a ever present whisper - a lulling buzz barely audible among the noise of reality shows, Zumba classes and staff meetings... barely visible between the images of her hundreds of Facebook friends, her iPhone Instagram photos and her online shopping sites.  To the watching world she emanates success and polish and happiness.  Are you watching?  Do you know how to see beyond the image she presents?  Do you let others see beyond yours? Do we even begin to know the true value we possess - even when imperfect and unlovely and visibly broken?  How can we, when the world tells such a different story?

Coming out from hiding....

My hiding was driven by shame... no surprises. I've spent too many years, now, hiding my essence under a blanket of fear and pain. I've known I have beauty to share.. and started this blog - this first step toward my someday book - in an attempt to put cracks in those dungeon walls.

The cracks have expanded into fissures of light and I'm finding myself ready to journey back out into community again.

There was a time when I breathed community - koininia - as my life blood. A time when I was connected to the Body of Christ and felt both seen and known in that context. I participated in the giving and receiving of encouragement, admonition, discipleship and in corporate worship. I studied God's word and prayed in agreement. I knew I "belonged" with my brothers and sisters and felt confident that my gifts were being used.

But I took a turn... I stepped out from that protective place into what I thought was a greater adventure in "one-flesh" community with a lover, husband, friend who shared my faith and more... I "submitted" and surrendered to his spiritual leadership and began to crave his approval and affection more than anything. I cast my pearls before swine... and the ways he used God's name to abuse and control and suppress me ... have forever left a scar on the faith I used to so freely share with my world.

I have since escaped... but have nursed wounds in hiding for a long, long time... And I came away distrusting anyone who used God's name... I still knew and loved my Savior. But I couldn't risk exposing that part of me any longer. So I've walked with Christ alone... trying to silence the echo of my ex-husband's voice telling me "all you need is Jesus..." when he really meant, "all you need is me..."

I do need Jesus.. and I need community, again... I believe we find ourselves and see ourselves more clearly in the reflection of intimate relationship. It is a risky place, but one we are lost without. I hearken, again, to the words of C.S. Lewis...

“To love at all is to be vulnerable.
Love anything,
and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken.
If you want to make sure of keeping it intact,
you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal.
Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries;
avoid all entanglements;
lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness.
But in that casket- safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change. It will not be broken;
it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.”

And so I venture out... least I die in my dungeon alone. Walk with me?

I'm hiding...

My smile is locked away.. buried under "shoulds" and "musts" and the ticking clock of to do's... I flit in and out of my children's sphere - long enough to bark an order - "Clean off that table," "Finish your homework," "Pick up those dirty clothes," "Get in the shower," "Get out of the shower you're wasting water."

Where is the mom who longs to play with her children.... ? Who knows they hunger for her laughter, they crave her hugs like golden honey dripping off of fresh toast... is it possible to have too much?

But instead... I hide... I can't face the things undone... I can't look at their lanquishing hearts... I hide in my room, on my laptop, in a book, in a movie... in a chat room... on the phone... I hide from them the very thing I am trying to discover myself... I hide my presence. I hide the gift of myself - wounded, flawed, bleeding, imperfect...

Where is the courage to be broken in front of them. They need to see it... they need to know that mistakes are not tragedies.... that messes do not matter.... that life is not about "shoulds" and "musts" and the ticking clock of to do's... At least I wish it weren't.....

What is Beauty?

I wrote a poem some time ago... actually after my first divorce.. It is a poem about my "true" self... my worth.. my purpose on this earth... It was written as a psalm of praise to my Adonai... and also, in a way, as a vision statement of who I wanted to be... what I wanted to be... once all of the broken pieces of my heart were some day mended...

There is a line in the poem that says.. "Beauty reflected in the smiling eyes of my Savior..."

I wrote that because I recognized, even then, that I measured my beauty by what I saw in the eyes of the men who looked at me... that I needed to be "wanted" by a man to feel... I don't know what .... full? complete? worthwhile? beautiful? There is both truth and danger in that almost universal feeling among women...

The danger is obvious.... but the truth is that beauty, by definition, is something appreciated by another... whether it is the beauty of the rugged looming mountains, delicate swaying wild flowers, the vast violent ocean... or the soft curves of a woman's body or face.... Is anything beautiful until it is gazed upon?

Then, a short while ago, my Ransomed Heart Daily Readings by John Elderedge offered me this to ponder....:

For a woman to unveil her beauty means she is offering her heart.

Not primarily her works or her usefulness (think Martha in the kitchen). Offering her presence. At family gatherings my mother hid in the kitchen. She cooked and baked and prepared and served and cleaned and for the life of us, we couldn't get her out of there. We wanted her to share her life with us, her thoughts, her ideas, not just her effort. She wouldn't come. And we were less because of it.

The gift of presence is a rare and beautiful gift. To come unguarded, undistracted, and be fully present and fully engaged with the one whom we are with. Have you noticed in reading the Gospels that people enjoyed being around Jesus? They wanted to be near him – to share a meal, take a walk, have a lingering conversation. It was the gift of his presence. When you were with him, you felt he was offering you his heart. When we offer our unguarded presence, we live like Jesus. And we invite others to do the same.

And I saw, again, a new facet to what I offer... what I am called to as a woman.. as a Christian.. as a human... Yet, once again... beauty is something I OFFER... to some one else... it is not for me to keep to myself..

So … what about you... What catches your eye...? What stirs admiration when you see it on the horizon or see it walk in a room.... ? What do you think is beautiful?

And... how important to a relationship is it, do you think, that the man thinks his partner beautiful? That he catch his breath when she walks in the room... or shares of her heart...

I await your answers ...

Hugs,

-Becca