I drive back from dropping off my youngest, and the wind is howling, nudging my big rig side to side.
Tuesday is garbage day and as I near my house, I see every street littered by pieces of trash that have fallen from knocked over cans, swept up in gusts.
I pull in front, and the garbage truck across the street lifts a plastic can with its mechanical arm and shakes it. Tissue, paper and wadded wrappers fly from the truck’s body and all over the street.
It hits me how much I know about this because I’ve brought those full bins to the curb — all the trash I don’t want anymore — and then the winds pick up and set things off balance, and pieces spill out and scatter, and sometimes I feel I don’t have the will or energy to scramble after them to toss them out again.
Sometimes I don’t know how to do anything but watch the scraps fly.
These days I’m walking through a time of greater risk-taking — speaking more in front of groups of people with faces I can see — and putting myself out there in other new ways, too. It’s scary and uncomfortable, and so I’ve found myself doing some of the things I know to do when life stirs unpredictable.
I play the comparison game.
I question my earthly packaging.
I doubt my abilities.
Earlier in the week, I recorded myself speaking and spiraled, attacking every aspect of my outward appearance like a boss. I felt old tentacles of self-hatred try to worm in, and I looked at all these non-changeable things about me and so badly wanted them different, and it broke the mother’s heart inside me, actually — the way I was viewing myself.
I tried talking out all my perceived imperfections, but focusing on them only made them grow.
A few nights ago I spoke on a blogging panel with two other women, and, though I enjoyed the experience and some of the significant conversations that followed, I found myself questioning the ways I came across in comparison to their professional, wise and beautifully measured demeanors. I worried that I seemed all heart and no head, wondered if anyone could find any gems among my arm flailing, non-dignified extroversion.
Too easily I forget this is not about my dignity.
Or about how I appear.
Or about my strength.
And I need to be reminded.
Eventually, I turned off the video camera. I cast all those picked nits at Jesus’ feet. I reached out to Michael and sisters who helped wrap me in what is true. I sat in quiet spaces, instead of working to manufacture words and worth. I soaked in the Eternal. I thanked God who continues to move through this insecure girl shaking in her boots.
As my sister memorably said to me the other night, “You don’t need to be anyone other than who you are. Everyone else is taken.”
On a windy day, sometimes I’ve gotta stop running to scoop up and examine all the scuttering pieces and just let them scatter.
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Maybe you need to release some of those same lies today. Perhaps you need to know you are beautiful. You are treasured. You are plucked from the trash heaps and loved with an everlasting love.
Consider yourself reminded.
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Linking with Jennifer and a community of women desiring to see themselves as God does — enough, known, whole, free!
Connecting through the power of stories written, spoken and lived
I love what your sister said to you about not needing to be anyone other than who you are (who, by the way, is Wonderful!) because all the others are taken. I wonder too if maybe there shouldn’t be a rule that we never ever sit as our own audience…that role is already taken too. (And as it turns out, not only are they much kinder toward us, but they’re far better judges.) I’m so proud of you girl! xoxo
Great perspective, Mama! :-) Yeah, we aren’t meant to be our own audiences!
Oh friend.
I’ve needed that reminder all day.
Thank you for blessing my doubting soul.
Bless you, bless you, dear Lori. I love how God is moving in boldness right in the midst of your doubt.
Tears. Deep resonance. And so much love.
Dear one, am praying for you and your family. And counting the days until I see you, and we laugh and cry and nod resonance and love in person.
Thanks for being “just you.” That kind of authenticity is inspiring, challenging, encouraging. It’s the very thing that makes these real (and internet) miles feel like nothing.
Bless you, and thank you, friend. I agree — authenticity does make the miles fade. So grateful for that. xoxo
Dear Ashley, I can SO relate to what you have shared today.And I love your analogy of the bits of garbage that have already been thrown out, coming out of the trash & blowing around again…so much like our lives! How easy it is to look in the mirror daily and see who I am not, or who I do not want to be….How often I arrive at the end of my day and mentally replay the long list of all I did not accomplish, and then feel like a failure, in spite of all I DID accomplish. Sometimes our ‘Mom To Do lists’ are simply too long for reality! Often I wake up in the mornings and I feel the overwhelmingness of all I am not that I wish I were, or all I am that I wish I were not, but when I still my thoughts for long enough, God reminds me of how He sees me..reminds me that I am His treasure, His Masterpiece, the beautiful expression of His heart….so incredibly loved…..Not that I am all the way there in remembering it by any means, but what I do (when I think of it) that helps to replace those old ‘labels’ is when I read through Scripture I will alphabetically write out my new names, the names that God tells me that I am, because of what Jesus has done: We are….Accepted, Adopted…Belong to Christ…Blameless…Chosen..Created anew…Delivered from the power of darkness…(and so on)…and when I am having one of those days when all my old names speak louder than my true ones, I need to actually sit down & read through that list of names OUT LOUD, with a thankful heart….to remind me of my true and forever identity. It helps…Slowly but surely the new names begin to be written over the old ones…and in time when the old names begin to escape the garbage can & blow around in the wind, I begin to recognize the garbage for what it is & remind myself that I am a New creation…that the old has gone, the new has come….and not pick up those old labels again…Real tough to do though isn’t it?
May God enable us to not compare ourselves with one another, but rather to measure ourselves up against God’s truth and let ourselves be embraced in His grace…as we would hold our children & embrace them with tender love…..and not to allow the lies of who we are not to shout louder than the truth of who we are.
Special blessings to you, beautiful woman! ..I read your words every time they drop into my mailbox & am always stirred. Thank you! (PS Have you ever heard this song by Jason Gray titled Remind me who I am http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QSIVjjY8Ou8 )
Amen, Kim! What beautiful suggestions here. I have also done the same with affirmations from God’s Word, and it has made a tremendous difference in my life. As I type now, I see a card covered with “I am…” affirmations like “God’s workmanship,” “a new creature,” “alive with Christ,” “set free.” I continually remind myself of what God says about me because, as you say, the lies do their best to drown out the truth. Bless you, and thank you for your kind and encouraging words. I look forward to checking out this song by Jason Gray. Much love for your day…
Beautiful, dear Ashley. Thank you.
Thank you, beautiful Katrina.
Thank you for sharing these beautiful words. They truly touched my heart today.
Thank you, Barbie. So nice to see you here.
I loved the observation and the comparison you made between the thoughts and that garbage. I could see you all “undignified” and I thought how that is sort the secret to connection, you know… being fully out there at the end, the lit candle wick end of ourselves. That’s when the real in us starts to intersect with the real in others. It’s a scary, but powerful place, that will grow on you I imagine.
I’d put you on my team to present and relate to the people any day.
You’re so awesome, Kim. What fantastic words about the lit candle wick. I love that picture.
wow … your words along with the picture. Speaks so much on a deeper level.
Thank you, Sharon. I do love that image. Taken by my mama in Seattle…isn’t it something?!
I love you. Oh – and March!!! #Squee
Eeeeeeekkkkkk!
Oh sweet heart. Your bravery and your weakness, your insecurities and your confidence, your beauty and your imperfections (which, by the way, aren’t polar opposites, right?), I love the all-of-you expressed here so vulnerably. What a poignant image, too, of the garbage whipping around in the wind, scattering, and us either scurrying after it or letting it fly. Thank you for that very helpful metaphor. Continuing to pray for you in this expanding journey of bravery and trust.
Your prayers mean so much to me, Amber. Yes!! Beauty and imperfections are not opposites. I love that!
So beautiful Ashley & an important reminder for all of us to see ourselves as Christ created us rather then focusing in our weaknesses. I love you & this piece, & benefitted from reading the comments of others!
There are some really good ones, right? Love you, friend.
Dear One,
I love this story that you share with us all!!
Thank you, thank you…..for your vulnerability in so many ways! Thank you for stepping out and uncovering the places in us all that nit-pick and thank you for walking the other direction and casting them away…..for as you do, you encourage the rest of us to do so also.
You do GET to be you! and thank God there is a YOU to be!!!
xoxo
That is such a helpful way to think about it, friend. We “get” to be us!
I love you.
Your “Tomato on the Vine”
I for one, constantly find gems amongst your arm flailing extroversions!
Haha! Thank you, Uncle Don!
Beautiful! Thank you! I am leaving blessed.
Thank you, Amber. So glad to see you. Wow. You encouraged me with the image of the rocker this week. Bless you in your writing and life journey!
I could not imagine you any different than you. Nor would I want to. One of the things I’m most excited about is seeing you on that panel talking. I will beam with pride to call you friend. What we see, the true things, are beautiful. So much love to you tonight. I know you know I know this not enough so often. Standing with you while we let the rest scatter.
You are so dear, Alia. I am happy to know you will be there with me. I will be looking for your loving self as I share. You bless me in all the ways you cheer me on and call me friend. I am so grateful for knit hearts. Only three more days!