I realize that by saying in a blog that something is private automatically makes it public. But even if I were to be only vague in description of my internal struggles and battles, which really isn’t my style, I still would be airing some things that have been, to this point, strictly private and internal.

I’m feeling led to tell my story, both the past and my present struggles, as little has changed in the type of struggle. Perhaps just the intensity of the struggle itself, and the maturity through which I see my life, have changed.

Let me begin with this: it took me, sadly, too long to realize the ways in which Satan tries to gain a foothold in me. He doesn’t keep trying tactics and eventually give up if a few don’t work. He knows my weaknesses. He has figured out how to get just the tiniest toe hold, and keeps kicking at it, little by little, until suddenly, he has shoved his entire foot into my back, and I never feel a thing until it’s too late.

For pretty much as long as I can remember, I have struggled with significance. My entire being shakes sometimes with anticipation of doing or being something great-not necessarily fame, but legacy I guess- just to decide that I’m incapable of doing much of anything, let alone something of great value and significance. I know this is a lie straight from Satan. That in itself should give me motivation, just to conquer him again and again. But it’s the part of me that I struggle with so deeply, this thought process has become ingrained. I don’t want to start something that I can’t finish or follow-through. If I do begin something, and then don’t finish it, the guilt is so thick, I could suffocate. I try so hard to do things with perfection, and I find that I have done very little, honestly, because I’m believing that everything I do has to be perfect or it’s not worth doing.

This quest for significance leads me, often, to question the value I am to others, especially those closest to me. I’m realizing that my inability to love myself before I’m perfect causes me to question how anyone else could love me before I’m perfect.
To say that I believe God loves me this way is truth. However, I then start to justify it “He’s supposed to. He’s God.” I dont have trouble believing He loves me unconditionally. That I know and am assured of. However, I have trouble not holding myself to a standard of loving me despite being imperfect. And because I hold myself to this standard, I have a hard time believing that any human, as flawed as I am, could possibly love me despite being imperfect.

My expectations of myself cause me to obsess about making sure that everything around me is as close to perfect as possible. When things seem perfect to me, I finally feel like I’m achieving something of significance and worth. This mindset goes for everything from my house being clean to my kids having awesome clothes and birthday parties to wanting my kids to act like mini-adults instead of kids with their own personalities.

I pray constantly that my critical nature of myself does not rub off on my kids, but I find myself being especially short and critical with them when I’m feeling less in control or when I realize I’m not measuring up to the impossible standard I’ve set for myself. As if it is somehow their problem or issue.

And then there’s my incredibly gracious and forgiving husband. I find myself doubting his love for and faithfulness to me when I’ve been especially critical, sarcastic, or hard on myself. I find when I’m struggling hardest with significance, like when I didn’t get a better position at work or when my kids act in ways that are frustrating or embarrassing, I begin to fear that I will be rejected. It’s so crazy that I feel this way, and Satan knows it is the one way he can try to break me, and in turn, cause riffs in my family.

At times, instead of fighting this constant battle raging in my mind, I want to give in, because it’s easier than facing the battle. There have been many times in my life that it’s all I can do to crawl because I’m too wounded and battle-weary to stand up, let alone fight.

Often, instead of measuring myself against how the God of the universe sees me, I’m stretching on my tiptoes to reach that impossible place where I think significance hangs. If I could just accept that I’ll never be perfect this side of heaven, I’ll never have to face that pole vault bar again. My worth would lie in Christ alone, who came to Earth in an imperfect body. Who hung around very imperfect people. Who taught people to see the worth not only in others, but in themselves. That’s the standard I need to hold myself to: it’s achievable, and in it, I am free to be who God created me to be, a work in progress, an imperfect person being made perfect. A heart redeemed.

For as long as I can remember, I have been highly concerned with being well-liked and fitting in. Even now, at 30, I still find myself trying to please everyone and trying not to offend anyone because I want them to like me. Probably many of us struggle with this, or have struggled with it at some point.

I thought I was getting better at facing my fear of rejection and working through it. Several years ago, I spent a great deal of time praying through elements of my past that had started defining me. I thought I had rid myself of the fear of rejection, and maybe I did. Or maybe I mistook being freed from the unforgiveness in my heart surrounding rejection situations for being free of my fear of rejection.
Whatever the case may be, somehow this fear has crept in again, and as Satan does so well, it has started slowly debilitating my ability to reason and think outside of this fear. I recognize Satan in the midst of certain thoughts and fears, and I cast him off. But I’m still struggling with breaking that overwhelming fear that I’m not good enough, never will be, and might as well give up on everything that requires faith and trust.

Satan would love nothing more than to see me give up instead of overcome. He wants me to live in constant fear and paranoia, instead of passing it all over and trusting God with my everything. Because in the end, if I don’t have God I’m nothing. If I give up striving for greater faith and trust, I become useless. My purpose is lost and I’m no longer needed.

In the end, isn’t my purpose to glorify God? Aren’t I supposed to strive toward greater faith and trust? If I allow Satan to keep debilitating me with fear of rejection, I’m not even close to living up to what God has for me.

Father, please break this fear of rejection. Help me to seek you and strive for greater faith and trust. I want to honor and glorify You and stop allowing Satan to keep me captive to my fears.

I wrote this several months ago but never posted it. Re-reading it, I’m not sure why I didn’t post it. It is all still true, and aside from specific time references, I could well have written it today.

The title of this post is a bit, well, unsettling I guess. I am having trouble sleeping this evening, and amidst all the thoughts rolling around in my head, my overwhelming mood is unsettled. Not necessarily in a bad way, but just not content. Over the past several days, my posts have mentioned situations that are causing frustration and general restlessness in my heart and mind. I have been praying through these feelings, and sensing some gentle nudges about possible direction, but have not felt a strong nudge toward anything. Until tonight.

I have, for a long time, felt called to be a part of the lives of teenage girls, in some capacity. This has, thus far, consisted of my being a volunteer leader in the youth ministries at my church. Through these times, I’ve begun to hone in on a few girls in the sea of many that I can possibly have an impact on, through mentoring and, as my pastor calls it, doing life with them. However, while not negating the impact that this has on the lives of students, as well as myself, I’ve also begun to feel like perhaps this isn’t all that God has for me. I’ve begun to feel a little more unsettled and a little less content with staying in my comfort zone.

I’ve also begun to feel even less happy and content at my job than I was before. My attitude over the past few weeks has really suffered, and I have struggled with getting through some days. My feelings of discontent and being unsettled have carried over into this area as well. I’ve begun to really question what I’m doing, and thinking “There HAS to be something more to life than this.” My excuse has always been “I have to go back to school to get a teaching certificate. But school costs money.” Or, “I don’t have time to look for anything else because I’m just trying to get through the day and spend time with my family.”

After a particularly bad week last week at work, my spirit was broken. I was incredibly discouraged, and honestly didn’t care (much) if I didn’t go back on Monday. There are a lot of things that went into my feeling that way, but my point is, I didn’t come home Friday and immediately start looking for something else. I didn’t even want to think about it. On Saturday, I was busy getting the house cleaned up before we leave for vacation this week. Today, there was no turning away or ignoring it. I received a gentle but firm nudge this morning, after the message, and thought about it some of the day. I was unsettled to begin with, and I became more unsettled as the day wore on. Tony and I were watching tv after dinner, and the tv turned on to 60 Minutes. They were talking to a group of homeless kids, still in schools, about the impact that had on them. I saw those kids, and something clicked in me. I lost it and started crying. I have a broken heart for homeless kids. The kids who are still trying to grow up, learn to read and write, and trying to discover who they are and where they fit in the world, when they don’t always have food, clothing, or a constant shelter. We don’t have a lot, but we have a house, clothing, food, and jobs. We’ve had our share of financial problems, and still do occassionally. But, I look at my kids and I imagine what it would be like, for them, if we didn’t have this constant shelter, clothing, food. It breaks my heart to think of it.

God is speaking to me about those kids just around the corner from me who are homeless, who don’t have a permanent place of their own. I don’t know what all this means, yet, but I am peacefully unsettled. Restfully restless.

I have absolutely fallen in love with where we live. We moved in right at a year ago, and I haven’t regretted a moment of it.
We are in the close suburbs of the city, so we are close to a lot of things, but the town is laid out in such a way that just a short half mile walk down the street with a very curious dog is bound to lead to new discoveries.
People are always outside on their porches or mowing their lawns or doing yard work. The neighborhood playground is rarely empty.
I think the thing I love the most, though, is something someone who doesnt live here may miss when they are just visiting. This place has a hidden beauty that is easily missed if you aren’t looking for it. Some neighborhoods go undiscovered unless you happen upon a hidden road or sidewalk. The view from my back porch is incredible, where we can see for miles, but from the street it would be missed completely. If we don’t pay attention, we miss the things that make home so beautiful.
If I don’t pay attention, I miss the things that make life beautiful. The laughter coming from the backyard as the kids play with our neighbors. The smell of dinner cooking on the grill. The sight of my kids’ faces after eating ice cream.
All of these are little things that seem like nothing. They are short moments in otherwise mundane, normal days. But they are what makes my life beautiful. Little glimpses of heaven.
Are YOU paying attention so you can notice the hidden beauty around you?