“What if you wake up some day, and you’re 65… and
you were just so strung out on...people-pleasing that
you forgot to have a big juicy creative life?” Anne Lamott
I did. Well, maybe not at 65, but I was in my late forties. My husband, to whom I had dedicated my time and talents helping (otherwise known as manipulating and controlling), had decided to return to college. We were living in my parents' home, where I cooked and cleaned and decorated. For them. Or something. I had put my life on hold. Again. Until he finished college. Until things were better. Until everyone was happy. Until I had made everyone think I was wonderful... I was doing all the right things for all the wrong reasons.
When I found myself blindly staring out the bedroom window, wringing my hands, tears dripping off my chin and unable to function without a clue what was wrong, I admitted I was in trouble. And I didn't have a clue what the answer was for the first time in my life.
My journey from there to where I am today is a long one I won't bore you with. It has been worth every terrifying, painful, and beautifully trembling step. We were created with a secret dream our God wants us to share with Him. It is only as we share ourselves with the One who dreamed us, we can get a glimpse of this delightful life planned for us. Our hearts will sing. And it is then that we become the instruments for change we long to be. We become light in darkness. We become salt to season and preserve. We become branches attached to the vine that produce fruit.
A very wise man once told me that in order to "lay down my life for my friend," I had to actually have a life to lay down. Let's dare to fight the good fight today. Not against the people, places and things around us, but against the parts of ourselves that tell us lies. "It's too hard." "I'm not good enough yet." "People will laugh." Insert your lie here: "..."
Dare to take one teensy, tiny step in the direction your heart is longing to explore. And remember, I know you can do it. Keep me posted on your secret journey. Because I love you. Bunches.
I did. Well, maybe not at 65, but I was in my late forties. My husband, to whom I had dedicated my time and talents helping (otherwise known as manipulating and controlling), had decided to return to college. We were living in my parents' home, where I cooked and cleaned and decorated. For them. Or something. I had put my life on hold. Again. Until he finished college. Until things were better. Until everyone was happy. Until I had made everyone think I was wonderful... I was doing all the right things for all the wrong reasons.
When I found myself blindly staring out the bedroom window, wringing my hands, tears dripping off my chin and unable to function without a clue what was wrong, I admitted I was in trouble. And I didn't have a clue what the answer was for the first time in my life.
My journey from there to where I am today is a long one I won't bore you with. It has been worth every terrifying, painful, and beautifully trembling step. We were created with a secret dream our God wants us to share with Him. It is only as we share ourselves with the One who dreamed us, we can get a glimpse of this delightful life planned for us. Our hearts will sing. And it is then that we become the instruments for change we long to be. We become light in darkness. We become salt to season and preserve. We become branches attached to the vine that produce fruit.
A very wise man once told me that in order to "lay down my life for my friend," I had to actually have a life to lay down. Let's dare to fight the good fight today. Not against the people, places and things around us, but against the parts of ourselves that tell us lies. "It's too hard." "I'm not good enough yet." "People will laugh." Insert your lie here: "..."
Dare to take one teensy, tiny step in the direction your heart is longing to explore. And remember, I know you can do it. Keep me posted on your secret journey. Because I love you. Bunches.
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