In my opinion there are two types of people in the world…the plan every detail person and the jump in the car have an adventure type. One guess where I fall. š
My travel buddy Bev and I knew after how 2020 played out that our usual summer cruise was gonna be a non starter this year. So we planned a road trip. Loose use of planned. We identified the dates and the destinations. Besides that we havenāt done much more. I should add we are three weeks out from that trip.
A couple of weeks ago I began to realize I really didnāt have the fervor and excitement for that trip I usual do. We had so many stops on the road trip we were gonna be in the car every other day. Driving is NOT my thing. I have been driven everywhere but work most of the last fifteen years (thank you Lee). I reached out to Bev and said āumm how about we scale this backā. We chopped three stops off the route and got down to three cities. One of which is a fav place.
Now comes the stressful part. With it being a holiday week and with some of the COVID protocol still in place…reservations have to be made. We have to know, like now, what we want to do in any given day. Eliminating any spontaneity which it has taken me fifteen years to appreciate. (My kids can tell you stories of the early family vacations where every day was so planned it was exhausting.) Trying to identify what we want to do on any given day is š. I mean what if I wake up and I am not in the mood to tour the civil war battlefield I had scheduled that day? Or what if we stayed out too late on Broadway St the night before and donāt wanna get out of bed? You see my dilemma.
I have finally narrowed it down to this. We are going to make reservations at the important-to-us-not-to-miss places for in the mornings (because one of us never sleeps past six am š¤·š»āāļø) and leave our afternoons free as a bird. Because in the end? Itās supposed to be relaxing!
P.S. if you have any must doās in Memphis or Nashville send them to me!!!
They say everything changes when you turn 40. Actually they say it all goes to hell in a hand basket. š¤·š»āāļø Things droop that didnāt before, going to bed at 8 am no longer seems appalling, the eye doctor says the dreaded ābi-focalā word. You donāt FEEL 40, heck you donāt feel 30, but the number keeps climbing.
More importantly your perspective on many things changes. For some, it happens naturally and without pain. Maturity just grows along with the number of candles on your cake. For others, šš»āāļø, it takes catastrophic events to shake them out of the protective bubble they have cast around themselves. While I wish dearly I had fallen into group āaā my life has always dictated I do things the hard way.
If you have known me long or been reading here you know Iāve been going through massive changes in my life. Some of my choosing but most, well, not. What I didnāt anticipate as I fought, scratched, clawed, disrespected, and basically did everything but throw myself in front of things beyond my control is that God was working. He was allowing me to screw up to the ānthā degree. On purpose. Letting me get to a place there was no light. No hope. No joy. No love. Nothing at all left of the stability I craved with every fiber of my being.
Before you jump ship saying He wouldnāt do that – hang on. God had been trying to get my attention for years. Aborted journals reflect that. Times I cried out but quickly āfixedā it myself attested to that. I am a āfixerā. There is nothing (so I thought) that I couldnāt analyze for all the possible negative outcomes and navigate myself or someone I loved out of danger. I mean cāmon. If you were dealing with a human that dumb wouldnāt you let them fall as far as they could before you showed them the way?
Not saying God has any such thoughts. But I certainly would have looked at me and say āyou have fun with that let me know when you need real helpā. Blessedly God has abundant mercy and grace. He is patient and knew long before I did that this dark season was coming. Sometimes I wish he had given me some warning but if I look back really hard I bet I can find the warnings I chose to ignore.
Recently a co-worker told me heās finding many people our age running into self reflection. I canāt speak for anyone else but self reflection is putting it mildly. Self analysis, soul searching, self questioning, self correction, self remodeling…you get the idea. Coming face to face with every one of my imperfections and analyzing and agonizing over how I have handled some parts of my life. How it changed relationships in my past or present. How it passed down to my children. Who my own fears and insecurities erased from my life. Itās exhausting. I’m not a bad person – I know that – but I, like any human, have places I could have chosen a different path.
It would be easy to blame it all on the very broken environment I was raised in. And while the lions share of it belongs there (validated by the counselor) at some point I consciously or subconsciously made choices for my own protection from pain. I willingly tucked my family in closer than it should have been (to be healthy) because I was afraid the world would break the happiness I had found. I guarded the nest Fred and I created with the energy of a tiger protecting a steak. When I suffered the catastrophic loss of my husband I somehow pulled my children in CLOSER. Unknowingly stifling their growth and happiness.
Regardless of what anyone thinks not a single choice I have made has been with ill intention. Not one. I am discovering how very hard it is for others to know that. In a society where judging comes first and any sort of compassion and understanding comes second it appeared controlling. Only those closest to me, who know my purest heart, understand who I am. As I embrace the woman God intended me to be, and get the love I need from Him (where I should have gotten it all along), I am finding myself still battling stress and regrets but with a softer tongue and a self awareness that comes with maturity and being shaped by pain. I find myself understanding which wrong turns I took and how a different path would have landed a different outcome. I find myself letting my children know where I went wrong so they can avoid making the same painful mistakes. Fully understanding that in their young immaturity they’ll probably have to make them anyway but once a protective mother always a protective mother.
I say all this to say…take time for reflection. Allow God to speak to your heart and show you the way. If you are still young avoid youthful impatience in your choices. Be mindful of the longevity of adulthood and how lasting decisions really can be. But know that if you are nursing a wounded heart? God still has plans for you. He does for me and while I’m impatient to find out what they are I know it’ll happen on His time. And that I am learning in every second that I am waiting.
With Mother’s Day finally in the rear view these thoughts have been bubbling for a while.
While some would argue that only childbirth makes you a mother it is so much deeper than that. To me? A mother is defined as someone, anyone, who can put the needs of another person ahead of their own and lead them. Be that biological, foster, step, adoptive, aunt, grandmother, sister, cousin, niece, friend, or family in those roles by choice. A woman who sets aside her own needs, feelings, thoughts, and wants and sacrifices for your greatness. Who in a million ways you never see sheds countless tears and asks herself a million times if she is doing the right thing, if she did the right thing, if she was ENOUGH for you. Who sits up with you when you are sick, who balances a home, work, and everything in between to make sure you have the childhood she never had. The woman in your life who STEPS UP.
Perhaps one of the reasons this is one of my favorite Bible verses is it’s application to not only the love between a man and wife but also all love.
āLove is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way, it is not irritable or resentful, it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.ā ā 1 Corinthians 13:4-7
As a mother, you catch yourself failing sometimes in the “it does not insist on it’s own way” part. As a Mama Bear there is no greater pull inside you than to protect your child at all costs. To follow your instincts on what is right for those God trusted you to care for. That doesn’t have an expiration date. Whether they are 3 or 30, the urge to run into oncoming traffic to protect never dies. The instinct to fling your arm out across the passenger seat at a hard stop doesn’t suddenly turn off because they are adults. When they have kids of their own you’ll still worry when you know you kid is sick.
At what point does that willingness to be fearless in protecting turn into a bad thing? At what point do you go from being a great mom to being the mom who is starved just for a phone call on mandatory “call your mom” holidays? Leaving you wondering – did I do it wrong? What happened?
Take heart ladies. This, my friends, is the answer. You didn’t do it wrong. You did such a good job you set them into the world where they don’t need the safety net that is you. They are now the fearless ones. You built their wings so strong they are flying high. Does it suck that they forget who made them that strong? Yep. Does it hurt like the dickens? Holy heck yes. But Proverbs 22:6 says “Start children off on the way they should go, and even when they are old they will not turn from it.” They want to set the world on fire right now. They know where they came from and in times of crisis they will turn to you. It will be your voice they crave.
I spent most of Mother’s Day 2021 alone. I ached for my children. I cried when the phone rang and when the door opened. I cried at the emptiness of the house and the flood of posts on social media. I will never get used to that. But God pushed me to watch a sermon last night that reminded me of the truths I share with you today. I didn’t do it wrong. I got it so right – they are good human beings. I made them the amazing humans they are (I had some help from my hubby). And when the timing is right my home will be filled again with the love and laughter that makes my heart happy. Until then…I got it right.
For a supremely focused on details have to know what is happening at all times person…walking by faith is not my default condition. As a matter of fact at 42 years young I am learning that when taken out of the control all things – predict all outcomes – prepare for anything bubble I’ve lived in all my adult life I become agitated, aggressively protective of all things I deem to be mine, and my mind skitters out of control. It triggers deep anxiety, panic attacks, and depression. It also triggers a no filter ready fire aim reflex that has consequences I can’t even begin to see in my agitated state. It’s confusing to those who know me to be kind, loving beyond measure, and deeply compassionate. Who is this monster saying these things? For me it’s frightening in it’s intensity and after shocks. It’s like waking up after a car accident where you didn’t even realize you were driving and being surrounded by bodies…
I’ve always attributed smaller episodes like these to be my “Mama Bear” syndrome. Do not – under any circumstances – mess with one of my children. The consequences have always been swift and razor sharp. There are more than a few teachers or parents who made the mistake of singling out one of my children as an example that can attest to this. Or a school district who failed to recognize the patriotic importance of Memorial Day as the case was. Or a coach that didn’t recognize family time on an every other weekend schedule as more important than a Sunday practice. It has always been an involuntary launch at whomever made one of my children cry, made them sad, or threatened their welfare. No thought process just “go”. And if you draw tears from one of my children – for any reason – I see red. Just…RED.
As I am learning daily grief when Fred died literally stopped time for me. The kids stopped growing in my mind. I stopped my life. Sure, I did things. Traveled, worked, had friendships. But I made no significant progress at healing or recognizing that life should continue on. I started counseling and stopped when it became uncomfortable or hinted at those things needing to happen. I avoided people who needled me about the kids needing to have outside interests. I mean we were having fun and seeing the world – what IS your problem?
I DEFINITELY resisted the call of God in my heart to lean on Him. He took my husband away. Just three short years after taking my grandfather, the only father I had really had, away. Why on earth would I trust GOD? My life had been a series of heartache, pain, and bad events. Birth defect, abusive mother and a series of step fathers, now the loss of my beloved spouse. Didn’t He just put me on this earth to suffer? No way He wanted me – I was just His punching bag.
With all three children out of the house now I have no distraction from the call of God. And with the pain I’ve been in for the last almost year and a half – I’ve got no other option but to feel His pull. As I’ve learned to lean into Him the gentle nudge I’ve been given is to walk with Him without knowing what is next. Walk by faith not by sight. Without knowing if my children will be ok. Without knowing if I will be alone forever. Without knowing if my health will stabilize. The repeated message – in so many different ways I’ve lost count – is “Trust me child”.
My brain wars with itself every single day. The old demons are still there. The gentle peace I’ve felt small tastes of are there too. Some days I get a headache from telling myself to let go and just trust. Some days He sends so many signs I’m surprised He hasn’t taken out a billboard (He did three times on the way back from Lubbock a couple months ago). He’s provided me with a church that lights up my curiosity about Him. He’s provided the NEED for the peace of prayer. I know He can but He hasn’t gotten me completely past the anger, anxiety, and depression. I assume He’s still teaching me something with that. Some days I wake up so tormented it’s a wonder I can function. USUALLY those are the days I wind up praying so hard it’s amazing I do anything else and by the end of the day I’m peaceful.
The message in all this rambling? If God can take me…someone who literally has felt most of her life that she was being punished…and make me understand I am His child? Walk by faith. It’s HARD. I struggle with it and probably always will. But I’m learning He has a plan for all of this crazy life. And I’ll be ok if I trust Him.
As a kid in school I aced history. Not because I actually absorbed it but because I had a photographic memory and could just spit out what I needed to to ace tests and quizzes. As I wandered around Washington, DC yesterday how I wished Iād retained more of that info than I had!
I came to DC with the āstandardā list of places to see. You know – the ones we see on TV? The Washington Monument from Forrest Gump… āJenny? Jenny!ā Lincoln. The White House. Along with the Arlington National Cemetery with Trace Atkinsā āArlingtonā echoing in my head and visions of my husband crying every time he heard it. Every. Single. Time.
I also came conflicted about the trip due to things going on at home. My heart heavy and unsure if sightseeing was what I wanted to do.
When we left the car rental place and I started catching glimpses of things I had only seen on TV as Amy navigated DC roads (so thankful she drove so I could gawk), the air felt different. To me anyway. When we parked and walked up to the Washington Monument encircled with American flags at half mast I felt the same charge in the air that I felt previously at the 9/11 memorial in NYC. I knew other people were there but, for me anyway, I could feel the men who werenāt there. Those the monument represents. Our founding fathers that built this great country.
From there we walked into the WWII memorial. A lot to take in. Each pillar represents one of the 56 US states and territories. Then there is the wall of gold stars. That one got me. Each gold star represents 100 American military deaths…and there are 4,048 stars. So many lives given in service to our country.
World War II Memorial
It was a long walk to Lincoln. I was unprepared for how LARGE he is in person. It never looked like that on TV. It was really cool how deeply respectful people were inside the covered area near him. That is just something not seen very often anymore. The other thing I noted through all three places is there wasnāt the usual hocking of souvenir merchandise! No vendors in your face. It was hallowed ground.
Walking into the Korean War memorial…my grandpa served in Korea. I felt my gut clench and my heart ache. I miss my grandpa so. How I wish he had been there to tell me all the things I knew he could have told me. I heard a lady telling her kids as they walked by ātheir feet were never dry…ā that I am sure was part of a larger story. Iām sure some of the nostalgia is the recognition that yet another part of my history in my grandma, and the stories that go with her, is about to pass but man….
Korea War Memorial
Next stop in our day was back to the White House for me to actually take pictures. We had driven by that morning but I didnāt expect to want to do more than that. Somewhere in the morningsā activity I realized it was the freakinā White House and regardless of political views I was here and needed to do more than just drive by. š¬
We had a loop planned from here. We went to the National Cathedral. We couldnāt go in but what a beautiful building. We went to Georgetown for lunch. Hello crab dip and crab cakes. Ironically landed at the sister restaurant of our breakfast stop without meaning to (highly recommend both).
Then the cemetery. Anxious about this one because I knew it would be sobering but also something I really really wanted to see. We somehow managed to time it where we got to see the changing of the guard at the Tomb of The Unknown Soldier. If you do nothing else on a trip to DC? Do that. It brings the honor and respect all our military deserves right to the forefront of your mind. Side note: was super excited to see one of the guards on the change out be a female.
We also saw a horse drawn carriage with soldiers in full uniform taking a casket through the cemetery to a service. No words. Simply no words.
Winding our way through the hills of headstones, the quiet air in the cemetery reminding you itās sacred space, just weighs your heart down. For me the repetitive thought was āevery person here died for the freedom to do thisā. How do I honor that? How do I repay that debt?
A sea of reminders of people who died for my freedom
Lee Greenwoodās āGod Bless the USAā has always been one of my favorite songs. I can remember almost blowing out a speaker after 9/11 playing it on an endless loop. My favorite part of the song?
āAnd I’m proud to be an American Where at least I know I’m free And I won’t forget the men who died Who gave that right to me And I’d gladly stand up next to you And defend Her still today ‘Cause there ain’t no doubt I love this land God Bless the U.S.A.ā
What I felt so strongly yesterday was if every American could feel what I felt yesterday there would be no division in this great land. We all bleed the same. There is no race or ethnicity under that sea of headstones in that sacred space. We are all simply bound by the ideas of some amazing men who foresaw what this country could be and worked to make it so. We have a rich history and amazing freedoms others arenāt lucky enough to have. THAT makes me proud to be an American. šŗšø
As I have had a chaotic stress filled week attempting to thrust me back into a place I refuse to sink into I have received several of these reminders to be grateful. So I started today making a mental list of all I have to be grateful for. Have you ever done that? Really just tuned everything else out and listed all the GOOD in your life? I started at the obvious places and as the list came it just kept coming. Despite being tested from a place I never ever expected it I am so blessed it is humbling.
I have a loving God who has never left me. Despite my best efforts to push Him away. Even on days my brain tries to convince me I canāt hear him He is still here. I seek to hear His voice and it is there with the very message I need. He drives the bus that is my life even when I donāt want to give Him the wheel.
I have a job that I love. That fulfills me and challenges me. Exhausts me too but that is something to grateful for too some days. A boss that builds me up and pushes me to be the leader that he sees inside me.
I have a family. So many people donāt. Even on the most challenging of days I wouldnāt trade any of them for any reason. There isnāt anything or anyone that will ever break that love. Because the bond a mother has for her family is unbreakable.
My tribe. š¢ Where would I be without my tribe? They have flanked me this year and reminded me who I am, how strong I am, and how to dance in the rain. ā¤ļø Listened to me when I cried, when I wanted to punch things, when I said the same things over and over again. Steadied my boat and pushed it forward.
This list just goes on. My dogs, my home, my hobbies, my travel, my counselor, having had my one true love…my blessings abound.
Be grateful. Be humbled by your blessings. Life is short. Waste not a moment on those who want to hurt you. Lift it all up to God and let Him handle it. Focus on the blessings and all will be well.
Wikipedia says, “Happiness is a mental or emotional state of well-being characterized by positive or pleasant emotions ranging from contentment to intense joy.ā
Y’all…legit it’s taken me 42 years to realize this. I have had moments, some longer than others, where people or things have made me THINK I was happy. But none of it compares to what I am feeling right now. This euphoric feeling I wake up with almost every single day should be bottled up as a drug to be sold. The unbelievable FEAR I have lived in for most of my life that has held me back and suffocated me has been put on a shelf and can’t compete with the joy I feel.
YES!
Don’t get me wrong. There are still bad days. I think that’s called being human. There are days where the depression or the anxiety creep in and I wonder if I dreamed it. Or I get angry about some of what is going on. But finally – FINALLY – more of my days are joyful than those days and it’s because it’s a choice. I love(d) my husband and will until the day I die. But I understand now that he couldn’t make me happy in this deep in my core sense. I love my children. But they can’t make me happy in that way either. Happiness doesn’t come from other people. If it does it’s not the real thing. Or it’s temporary because it’s dependent on someone else and their emotional health. In my opinion.
The counseling it has taken for me to understand that only I hold the keys to this has been tough. I feel like a preschooler that was left behind and is just now learning to read some days. My value, my happiness, and my self worth has ALWAYS come with my service to others (and their need of me). I probably will always have a bit of a servant’s heart but understanding that what makes me truly happy comes from within and centers on taking care of me? Mind-blowing.
Part of the reason I cratered so bad last year was being kept from feeding my joy through traveling that at the time I didn’t truly understand was such a deep part of me. I feed on meeting new people and new places. I have always thought of myself as shy. My girlfriends laugh at that. But as 2021 has begun to unfold I’ve realized it’s true. I find joy in meeting new people and new friendships. It makes me feel alive. This self realization was shocking to me. Literally. It brings a smile to my face and makes me itch to go again. I’m counting the days to my next trip out of town.
My point in all this rambling? A) if you are my age and you haven’t found your true joy yet don’t wait another day. B) if you know what makes you happy and you aren’t doing it why the hell not? C) We get ONE life. ONE. And it’s damn precious. Do not let ANYONE suck that life out of you. Own it, steer it your way, and milk this life for all it’s got. God has an unbelievable plan for every one of us and He didn’t put a single one of us here to be miserable. Have faith and jump into your joy with both feet. It’s AWESOME!
“This is the day the Lord has made I will rejoice and be glad in it.” – Psalm 118:24
I used to brag to my co-workers on how I could get out the door in the morning in 15 minutes or less. Roll out of bed, throw the hair in a ponytail, and roll. What I am realizing now is that being able to do that was a sign of not really investing in myself. I literally was saying “I don’t care enough about myself to spend twenty minutes washing my face, brushing my hair, or feeding myself”. THAT was a rough realization.
In ALL the realizations that have continued to pile on over the last few months, perhaps the most important one (I think) is that I am worth my own time. I am worth at least as much time, love, and attention as that that I shower on those that I love and dote on. At LEAST as much. And that I am not defined by my role as a wife, mother, or employee. Don’t get me wrong, I still struggle with that one. On my best days I can flex my arm and go “yah that’s right” on my worst I spend them crying because one or more of my kids is too busy to call.
My morning routine has grown to include a lengthy routine with the animals which they get quite upset if it’s altered. TBH I alter it sometimes just to mess with them. š It consists of making the bed so I get that fresh sheet feeling at the end of the day. Washing my face. Occasionally including makeup. I have cut my hair so a ponytail is not an option. Man is that a paradigm shift. The pic is from this morning. I was just about to dunk my head and go dang it it’s too fluffy when I made myself look at it through the camera lens. I had been practicing the “beach waves” my stylist spent 30 minutes teaching me Saturday to do. Did I master it? Nope. Am I presentable for public? Yep. Did I run 30 minutes late getting to work? Yep. Did the world melt down? Nope.
I have spent 42 years trying to be “perfect”. Not Stepford wives perfect but guided by some suffocating sense of not wanting to let people down and feeling like I would be judged if I didn’t execute by some invisible set of rules. Allowing myself to be manipulated emotionally by those closest to me who know all the right buttons to push (that one was eye opening). Our sermon this week was on labels and how we assign ourselves the enneagram number or the personality labels that are out there and then we just…stop. We stop trying to be anything past those. If you asked me as recently as a month ago I would have told you I am a “2”. Meaning I will give you the shirt off my back even if it means I’m cold and people liking me is the most important thing to me. Yah. That’s not working for me anymore. Especially since it’s been used to pull one child out of my life and to emotionally beat the crap out of me like MOST of my life. My counselor said “what other people think of me is none of my business”. That may not come naturally yet but I am damn sure gonna get there. Because with that will come a freeing sense of it only matters of if I am proud of who I am and what I put in the world when I look in the mirror.
I am a fighter. I’ve had 55+ surgeries in 42 years of life. I’ve been physically and emotionally abused by my mother’s poor choices in husband’s. I lost the grandfather that was the only father figure I’ve known. I’ve lost the love of my life. I’ve raised three amazing human beings but that doesn’t mean I’m responsible for their choices. THAT one is freeing. I am strong. I am capable. I am a hell of an employee. I am and always will be a DAMN good mother. I have a heart like no other. I’ll love someone I care about until the end of my days. But I won’t be a victim anymore. I won’t be put down. I won’t be part of anyone’s rewritten warped lens history that makes them feel better about hurting me and justifying their hurtful choices. Being proud of who I am and the changes I am making doesn’t make me full of myself. It just means I’m me….and I’m done apologizing for it. Because I am exactly the person God intended me to be.
If you know me you know I struggle with the “I can fix it” syndrome. I don’t need any help from anyone to fix a situation just get out of my way and I’ll handle it. It’s worked remarkably well for 42 years. Or at least that’s what the illusion to myself has been.
The past year has taught me many things. It has taught me that my grief has not even begun to dissipate as I convinced myself it had. It taught me my children are, in fact, not babies anymore despite how I will always see them. It has taught me what real true pain is. Deeper than I could have ever imagined feeling and so bad it physically affected my health. Those are the bad things it has taught me.
On the flip side of that coin it has taught me I have a community I had no idea I had. Girlfriends that listen to me when I am not sure I would listen to myself anymore. It has taught me that somewhere deep inside there is a strong woman capable of pulling herself out of the lowest place she has ever been. Ever. It has taught me how to say “I’m sorry”, “I was wrong”, “I’ve never thought of it that way”, and “Dear God I didn’t mean it that way”.
Most importantly it has taught me to pray. To fall on my knees and pray with every fiber of my being. It has taught me that my Creator wants me near. That despite the fire and brimstone I grew up with on the rare occasions I was taken to church and my anger at the church for the Sunday sinners such as my deplorable mother – God wants ME. Despite my mistakes. Despite my sailor mouth. Despite my anger for taking my husband away. Despite EVERYTHING. How is that even possible?
And yet…I’ve gotten plugged into a church that I swear on my life the pastor writes that sermon week after week like he is looking into my soul. I just can’t even describe the way it makes me feel when a message like that is delivered straight to all the parts that hurt in my being.
I keep a box on my desk that the front side says “Give it to God” and the backside says “Write your prayer down and give it to God by folding it into the box. Take a breath, relax and stop worrying. Have faith, let go, and let God take over.” When I feel the most anxious during the day I stop, I write down what I am worrying about and I slip it into the box. Does it always help? No. Probably because I can’t always let it go. Does it help a lot of the time? Yep.
One of the things I struggle most with is still the “I can fix it”. Even my prayers sometimes are directing God on how I think it should be fixed (and I am SURE he is laughing at me). One of the reminders I got today, after a day of angst and tears yesterday, is that it is and always will be on HIS time. My plan is not his plan. My desires don’t fit his. I think I miss those signs sometimes but the BAAAMMMM reminder I got this morning? Tears. Just tears.
Not sure I really had a point of this post today other than to say – Trust Him. Let it be on His time. And I say that as a reminder to myself as much as I do to you. Blessings.
I have spent my life adapting who I am to serve others. Make no mistake in 90% of the circumstances I have no regrets. In others, I wish I had been true to myself. Trusted my instincts and stuck to me. Not allowed people in who in the end hurt me when I already knew they would and ignored my gut.
Wise Advise
When I came across this image on my motivation app it struck a deep chord. How many of us change, even if we don’t think we do, to adapt to someone new in our life? To be what they want us to be so they will fit in our life? How many of us expect a new person in our life to do the changing so that they become what we want them to be in order to fit where we want them to fit?
As I enter a new season in my life and contemplate the idea of new people entering my life these ideas overwhelm me. I’m just now figuring out who I am. Not a wife. Not a mother. ME. I kind of like me. Turns out I do know how to relax and have fun. How to leave the bed unmade and dishes in the sink. I don’t want to bring someone new into my life that is going to alter this path of self discovery. So how do I do that?
The idea of only bringing people into my life that are exactly like me is boring. Some of my best friends push me into uncomfortable places in my head. I also don’t want people who are polar opposite as I recognize this will require me to do the aforementioned changing to a radical degree for them to fit. So where is the happy medium?
For now I’m just trusting God on this one. He’s grabbed on to me in this time of change and shown me who I am and who He is. I think if I stay true to that the rest will work itself out. I guess that’s my message today – be true to yourself and trust your instincts.
Amy
Exploring the world...talking about life...a little at a time
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