Today, I Wore My Grandma's Pin

My fingers fiddle with the clasp, on the back of my grandma’s pin.  I admire the rhinestones in a perfect circle.  I remember the pin on her lapel, almost magical, it glistened star flecks on her face.

Today, I pin it to my vest and wear it with fondness.

I recall her face, perfectly round.  I hear her voice, although it’s grown more and more distant as the years pass.  I can barely make out the way she said my name, and sometimes called me ‘Dolly’.

I reach out to remember the feel of her hands aged.  I desire to lay my head upon her chest again, and hear her reassure me that ‘whatever’ it was for the moment, it would be all right. 

Tears turn on easily. 

I search for her ornaments on my tree.  Angels once hers with sweet, serene faces, hang from branches green, playing instruments. 

I remember Christmas’s past with her presence, my greatest gift.

I pull out the scrapbook album my mother made and find the picture of my grandma and me, many years ago.  

Snow flakes frozen in the photo, rest on us.  We huddle close, not because of the cold, but because we love.  

We bake strudel.  She makes me laugh.  I am safe with her.  She loves me for who I am.

It’s been fourteen years since she passed.  Memories of her stir sweetly in my heart today.

Yes, I miss my grandma this Christmas.  

Your Story Matters

Your story matters.

It’s true.

But sometimes we don’t believe it, do we?

We think that it is too dull or too traumatic or too disturbing or too ________.  You fill in the blank.

We fear embarrassment or, worse yet, rejection. We fear that others will think we are ugly and turn away. Or we think that our story is not important or as powerful as someone else’s story.  Or someone has told us – not with their words, perhaps – but with their actions, that our story doesn’t matter.

Lies. Lies. Lies.

May I say it again?

Your story matters.

Our stories are complicated, often confusing.  Bits and pieces of our lives are woven together, impacting one another, at times not really making sense, and yet, all forming the whole of who we are, and who God is using.

The evil one wants you to think your story is not important.  He doesn’t want you to share your story – for even though it may be difficult and painful, when you ask God into it and allow Him to use it – it brings the Lord glory – and the evil ones hates that. Really hates that.

Dear friend, I just want you to know that your story matters – because YOU MATTER.

Your story is important. I do not know how or when the Lord may use it, but I believe when we you bring it to Him, He will begin to show you the truth in it and He will use it. He may be asking you to tell it -- or maybe not now. He may be using it to work deep inside of you, as He prepares you for something in the future. He may choose to have it in a book, spoken from a platform, or flashed across the movie screen. Or it may never be shared outwardly, but rather fuel your passion to help others – perhaps others who need someone one who understands.

That’s all for today.  Just a note from someone who cares about you, relayed from a God who cares even more.  You are loved and made for a purpose and your story is part of His plan to bring change and hope and healing to a broken world.

He uses brokenness – brokenness that we have caused within ourselves and brokenness that has occurred to us – to make a difference. 

How He does it? I’ll never know. But I believe it is true, and I know He loves you.

Your story matters. It's true.

Feeling "Humbugish" Today?

As I drove down the highway this morning, the rising sun rested over my left shoulder and storm clouds percolated over my right shoulder.  The contrast was dramatic in the Spring sky, mimicking the drama going on in my own heart.

“I’m just not up for today,” I murmured aloud to myself. 

What I was really saying was, "I’m just not up for myself, today."

And at the expense of you, my dear reader, thinking that I am an old curmudgeon walking down Humbug Street, I gotta tell you, I'm plain old down in the dumps today (-- or down ON the dumps as my youngest child would say).

Covered with the trash of my own negative self-talk, the garbage clings to my weary heart.

And although I am trying to look for the new growth, quite frankly, I’m stuck in the mire of my own junk. 

 I’ve contemplated sitting here in the stink, letting it permeate even deeper in to my soul – trying to figure out what I should DO, but I was not – am not -- enjoying it.  At all.

And so, I’m choosing to remember and focus on the Lord’s love for Me, despite how I am feeling or what my circumstances may be – or not be – He loves me.

And He loves you, too.

Perhaps you’re feeling a little “humbugish” today?

May I pray for both of us?

Dear Lord,

Some days  are really stinky.  I know you know that, and yet, you have things for us in this day – things to bless us and things for us to bless others. Help us, Lord to see your grace in this day, even when we feel down in the dumps. Thank you for loving us and for showing us that love. Help us to truly have eyes to see and ears to hear so that we do not miss you, even on – maybe even more so on – a day that is gray.

Amen

A Much Needed Fresh Look on Love

This morning I woke up and, having forgotten the night before that it was going to be Valentine’s Day, I quickly gathered up some red and pink decorations and tried to present a bit of “visual” love on the counter for breakfast.  Skipping a shower, due to lack of time,  I mixed up my grandmother’s famous Kaiserschmaren recipe (the equivalent to chopped up pancake in a pan – an old German recipe), and tried to make the morning memorable. I signed notebooks. Made lunches.  Pressed clothes. Helped console a child who forgot to write out a few Valentine’s. Hustled kids to school, and even turned around once to go back home, as someone fell and soaked their pants through with mud.

I’m trying to love in tangible ways; I try to do so every day, but today with love on my mind I’m trying to be even more intentional. AND I’m trying to look at real love – again – because, I forget.  I get busy. I get tired. I get snirky.  I don’t always love well.  I don't like that I do this.

How about you?

I realized this morning, I need a fresh look on love. I can pull out some decorations and make a fun breakfast, but I need a reminder about a love that goes deeper than that. It’s easy to love the things we love, when all is fair and good, but God calls us to love – at all times.  Not always an easy thing to do, but always the right and good thing to do.

The famous love chapter in the Bible, 1 Corinthians 13 (vs. 4 – 8, 12-13) helps us to remember what it looks like to love God’s way. I pulled the paraphrase of the Bible, the Message, off my shelf and read through it. I’m glad I did. 

Love never gives up.
Love cares more for others than for self.
Love doesn't want what it doesn't have.
Love doesn't strut,
Doesn't have a swelled head,
Doesn't force itself on others,
Isn't always "me first,"
Doesn't fly off the handle,
Doesn't keep score of the sins of others,
Doesn't revel when others grovel,
Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,
Puts up with anything,
Trusts God always,
Always looks for the best,
Never looks back,
But keeps going to the end.

Love never dies. We don't yet see things clearly. We're squinting in a fog, peering through a mist. But it won't be long before the weather clears and the sun shines bright! We'll see it all then, see it all as clearly as God sees us, knowing him directly just as he knows us!

But for right now, until that completeness, we have three things to do to lead us toward that consummation: Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly. And the best of the three is love.

I don’t know about you, but I needed this reminder today -- everyday. I want to love God’s way. 

Praying the same for you, dear reader.

Dear Lord,

Thank you that You are love and that we can learn to love Your way, by learning of You and seeing how You love us.  Help us to be lovers of You and lovers of others.  Even when it is not easy to love, help us to not give up hope, but to persevere, extending grace and forgiveness and always trusting You in all things.  Help us to stop today and remember that You lavished Your love on us, and help us to love others in return.

In Jesus name I pray.  Amen

A Trip to the Dentist -- A Lesson on Love

I heard her cry from the other room. Like a mother lion knows her cub, I knew the pitch and the tone of her voice.  I dropped everything and ran to the front desk at the dentist’s office.

“Excuse me, but I hear my daughter crying in the back. I’d like to go back and see her.”

I quickly walked to the exam room where my daughter was having her mouth “numbed up” in order to have two baby teeth pulled. Reassuring her as I slid between the counter and the chair where she reclined, I whispered, “Honey, I am right here.  Try and take deep breaths.  I’ll hold your hands. I know that it hurts. I’m so sorry. It will be over soon.”

The dentist tried to sooth her with the fact that the shots were the worst part. I tried to reassure her that although painful, this was in her best interest to have her two little teeth removed. They were inhibiting the growth of her new teeth. They needed to be extracted so that her adult teeth could move in to the right position.

At the moment, it didn’t matter to her. The pain of the small needle pricks was difficult for her to handle.  Tears ran down her face as she squeezed my hand.  Slowly, the Novocain began to work and the pain subsided. The grip of her hands relaxed and her crying slowed.

It was so hard for me to sit there and watch her sweet little face endure pain that I knew was necessary but none the less, painful.  My heart thickened with sorrow as she squeezed my hands and I heard her moans of discomfort.  My mouth even began to hurt. I, too, had struggled with having dental work performed and acutely remembered the fear and the pain (click here for story).

And as I shed tears and felt sick to my stomach at the sight of her pain – pain that was difficult but necessary -- I remembered Jesus. OH, how He hurts for us, too, as He watches us endure through physical and emotional trials and suffering. He weeps for us. He knows the pain of our pains.  He is a man acquainted with our sorrows, and He loves us deeply.

Before I knew it (and before she did too, but not without a few more tears from fear) my daughter was out of the chair and we were on our way home.  The skip in her step is back, and she is healing quickly. 

Later, my dear daughter said, “Thanks, Mom, for holding my hand. It made me feel safe.”  I knew how she felt, as I have held the Hand of One who has comforted me in all of my pains.

Dear reader, are you hurting today?  Cry out to the Lord and He will answer you.  “For the Lord comforts his people and will have compassion on His afflicted ones” (Isaiah 29:13).  He is present in your pain, holding your hand, covering you with His love. He sees your tears. You can feel safe with Him, trusting that what we are asked to endure is for our good, for we can be confident that in all things (not some) God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose (Romans 8:28).

Celebrating a Legacy of Love

It was a lovely, tender moment in a most unusual way.

I sat cross legged on the floor facing my friend Mary, who sat on the couch across from me. We were planning her funeral.  Dressed in a cream colored sweater and a beige skirt, her gray hear framed her round, bright face.  Both hands  -- the hands of an artist -- with fingers fine and graceful, rested in her lap, occasionally lifted to add personality and detail to the stories that she shared. Antique furniture, framed photos and paintings she painted over the years surrounded us. Her worn bible rested next to her.

A brown cardboard box filled with memories – old photographs, baby books, newspaper articles --  sat next to me on the floor.   Over the next two hours, we wandered down memory lane. I pulled out pictures along the way, and Mary remembered and shared the stories.

There were stories of when she was a baby snuggling next to her mother, kissing her father goodbye on his way to work, and playing with a friend.  Stories of when she was a young woman, with dances and dreams and going to college. Stories of her husband, when they met, their wedding  day and memories of their 50 years together before he went home to be with the Lord two years ago.  She relived memories of Christmas dolls, times at the University of Iowa, a trip to Scotland as part of the Scottish Highlanders, the birth of her children and the tragic death of both of them – her son in an auto accident at the age of four months when she was also seriously injured, and the death of her daughter near the age of 30 from cancer. 

She shared memories of the life the Lord gave her full of love, hopes, joys and tragedies. And despite the great amount of pain that she has endured, she continues to point to the One whose grace has sustained her and whose love has changed her.

Widowed and without any living children, Mary’s desired is to have things organized and ready for the day when the Lord calls her home.  I collected the photos and the descriptions  to put on a CD, we looked at her handwritten obituary for me to type, we talked about the songs that she wanted sung and the scripture verses she loved and we laughed and cried. 

When we set out to sort through the box our goal was to plan her funeral, but it was so much more than that, and we soon realized that we were planning a celebration. 

A life well lived and one she is still living.  It was sweet to share in her life today.  I left thinking about life and love and the Lord – it’s late at night now, and I still am.  I was blessed today, celebrating Mary and celebrating the Lord.  

Thank you, Mary. Your legacy of love and faith in the Lord Jesus lives on in the people’s lives you touch.  It is a lovely legacy.  I love you, and because of you, I love the Lord more, too.

In Memory of My Aunt

I loved her from the very first time I met her. I was nine years old; she was only ten years older than me. It was Thanksgiving. She came with my uncle to my grandma’s house. I thought she was beautiful. She was one of the kindest people that I ever met. Her smile was deep and broad. Her heart was even more so. 

My memories of her are scattered, but the ones I have are all very special to me. We never lived near each other. When I was little we would spend some holidays together. I loved being in her home. It was warm and safe. As I got older we would talk on the phone from time to time, and she would come to visit me when I would have a new baby or just “because.”  Over the past years, we did not see each other as much. I was washed over with the details and busyness of being a mom of five young children.  She battled cancer.

Yesterday, my sweet Aunt completed her time on earth and went to be with the Lord.  Today, I am grieving. I miss her. I miss the way she loved me. I miss just knowing that she loved me, even when we did not see each other for years.  I miss the way she said my name. I miss the way that I was able to watch her mother her own children, and I miss the opportunity of learning from her about parenting and about life.

I tried to tell her how much she meant to me, but I feel as if I fell short.  How could she know how many time I watched her love her children?  How I saw her selflessly meet their needs and joyfully fulfill many of their wants?  How I saw her rejoice in whom they were – not expecting from them anything other than who they were? How I watched her love my uncle?  I miss the way that she laughed and the way that she laughed at herself. She was a bringer of joy wherever she went. She was more than a ton of fun. 

She added fullness to my life. I can’t explain exactly how, but she did.  I am thankful that she is at peace and that she is whole. Cancer no longer ravages through her body, however, I feel a deep emptiness of missing her.  She was wonderful.

As I think about her today, I think I know what she would say to me, “Love your family, Andrea. Laugh.  Times will be tough, but enjoy the people and life that God gave you.   It’s all a gift.”

I always loved her. I still do. I know that she loved me, too.

The Little Girl Within -- Never Forgotten by Him

Is it hard to believe that you are loved?  Do you tend to build walls around your heart?  Do you fear that you are forgotten?  My friend Betty shares her story of when she was a little girl, where she learned how to build walls and how her dear Jesus has come in and broken down the walls.  We all build walls, don't we? But there is hope ... 

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     Sometimes I wish I could go back and be a fly on the wall. To see why "the little girl within" learned to smile on the outside, but hurt so much on the inside. To understand why the wall around her heart was built. She didn't even realize the wall was going up, brick by brick, to protect her heart from feeling unloved and disappointed. How is the "little girl within" affected at birth, two years old, and four years old when love and life is disrupted by a mother's mental illness and hospitalization? What would the fly see? An emotionally sick mother, unable to love? An impressionable little girl, desperately needing love?

     "Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you!" Isaiah 49:15-16.

    And Jesus, who heals the brokenhearted, did not forget me. He was there. He saw me (and the wall). He's shown me over time that the wall to protect was actually a barrier to receiving the love I longed for. The wall hindered me from relationally going deep in giving and receiving love as God desired. I had fear in loving.

     He said, "There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear..." 1 John 4:18.  And the one who IS perfect love, the ONLY ONE who can love perfectly, God himself, has driven out my fear. He has broken down the old wall.

     Are there still times when the "little girl within" says, "Quick, put up the wall, guard your heart!"?

     Yes. God is still working. But he reassures me life is not so much about a stopwatch as about a compass. We are heading in the right direction together.

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Betty resides in Neenah, WI with her husband and four children. They attend Calvary Bible Church. When not busy volunteering at her children's schools, her church, or the Fair Market Thrift store, she enjoys walking their dog, reading at Neenah's Kimberly Point overlooking Lake Winnebago, and going on dates anytime, anywhere with her husband.

If you have a Little Girl Within story that you would like to share in order to encourage others, I would love to hear from you. Guidelines for submission are at the bottom of the post for the start of the series here.

The Little Girl Within -- A Treasure

Do you wonder about the little girl within you?  Do you know her? Have you forgotten her?  Today, Gail shares a snapshot of her discovery of her little girl within and the hope and healing that the Lord is giving her.

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                   I found her.  I reclaimed her.  I cherish her.  And oh, how I love her.  You see, I had lost her for many years.  Years of pain and neglect from two very wounded parents.  She had become a forgotten stranger in my life.  Even after having my own children, something was amiss, some pieces were lost.  I wanted to complete this puzzle I called my life.

                I sought professional guidance on this journey of my soul.  God was invited along each step of the way.  I wrote letters to my parents solely for my healing, not for mailing.  I found a tiny symbol of myself at age 8.  Something tangible to hold in the palm of my hand, to look at and to love.  

                On my nightstand rests a framed photo of myself at age 3.  Blonde curls tumbling around my neck, outside, happy face.  Every time I look at that picture, my heart fills with love for that dear sweet child.  I talk to her.  I taught her about feelings.  “What are you feeling?”  “What do you need?”  I give her something she never received -- unconditional love.  I love spending time with her.  She is pretty neat.  We play together.  We cry together.  I love her well and we love life together.  I will never let her go.  She is too precious.  She is who I am.  She is a treasure.

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Gail is a wife and mother of three children.  She put herself through college as an adult.  Recently, she chose to leave an IT career and is an aspiring children’s author.  “When I look at a child, I feel their soul; that delicate fragile heart yearning to be noticed, to be engaged, to be loved.”

If you have a Little Girl Within story that you would like to share in order to encourage others, I would love to hear from you. Guidelines for submission are at the bottom of the post for the start of the series here.

The Little Girl Within -- Learning that She is Loved

Do you struggle with believing that God’s love is really for you?  Are you scared or unsure that He does?  Today, I share with you a brief letter that my friend Carol Adams sent me regarding the inner struggle of her heart.  Thank you, Carol, for your courage in sharing, not out of a heart that is holding on to the hurt, but out of a heart that is seeking to know, understand and love the Lord, desiring to grow closer to Him.

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I tend to compare God to my earthly father. My earthly father was critical and unloving. My earthly father got very mad at me when I showed emotion, when I was weak, if I was not perfect. He still does.

I work very hard at letting go of my definition of “father.” One of the greatest challenges that I face is knowing that God can and does love me.  I know He is a loving God, but I always think that He is a loving God to everyone else, but not me because I am so unworthy of His love. I always feel like I am a disappointment to Him. I want so much for Him to love me, but for some reason something stops me from feeling like I can let Him.

My first instinct is to put myself down when things don’t go “right.” I am working on accepting myself just how I am, and that it’s OK if I’m not perfect; God still loves me.  It’s OK to be sad, mad, scared, or just out-of-sorts.  Those feelings don’t make me a bad person, they just make me human. I am in the process of trying to realize that my Heavenly Father does love me in spite of my emotions and my weaknesses. 

This is a challenge for me, but I continue to try and accept God’s truths for my life and not listen to the lies.    God is faithful. He is showing me His love in new ways, every day.

Praise God that I do not have to be the same person that I was yesterday.  Every day is such a wonderful opportunity to learn, grow, and become the person that God intended me to be. I love this verse. It brings me hope. “"What this means is that those who become Christians become new persons.  They are not the same anymore, for the old life is gone.  A new life has begun!" 2 Corinthians 5:17 (NLT).

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"Carol is wife and mother of three who loves the Lord. Her interests include photography, scrapbooking, and reading. She appreciates authenticity in others and views each days as an opportunity to learn and grow. She lives in Neenah, Wisconsin.

Do you have a Little Girl Within story that you would like to share? Go here. Guidelines for submission are at the bottom of the post for the start of the series. I would love to hear from you.

The King is Enthralled with Your Beauty

It was late in the day and the band began to play.  The air was warm and moist.  The moon light dappled through the clouds, resting on the daughters’ faces. The lead singer encouraged the children (and any others who cared to partake) to sing and dance along with the next song.

My two youngest girls got up from their chairs and began to sway and move to the music. Dressed in summer clothes and with feet bare, they danced on the grassy floor of the field.  They twisted and turned like flowers in a field.  Joy emanated from their faces.  I watched them – enthralled with their beauty – not for what they did (or did not do) or what they looked like, but because of who they were – created by God.

I think as women, we sometimes lose this winsome way of being who we are, secure in who God made us to be. We shirk back, hesitate, blend in. It happens to me. Maybe it happens to you, too.

We forget (or maybe we never really new) that we are actually hand formed and planned by the Lord, beautifully made. We think that we are ordinary, at best; unnoticeable and ugly at worst. We self-guard and hide behind our hurts or insecurities, not imagining that we are truly a lovely treasure to Him.

But, Psalm 45:11 says (and are you ready for this?) “The King is enthralled with your beauty.” Do you know that?  I’m not sure I really do.  I try to cling to the fact that He loves me, but enthralled with me? That’s a pretty big word with a lot of emotion packed in to it.

Most of the time, it is hard for me to believe, but I am trying to live in light of this truth, as it gently rests upon me in each moment of the day. I am humbled by the fact that the Creator of the universe is that crazy about me; that the King of Kings should be that fixed upon me.  The Ruler above all, the One who sits upon the throne in heaven, is wild about me – and He’s wild about you, not because of what we have done (or not done) or what we look like, but because of who we are—His.

It is true. You are dearly loved, sweet sister, and He is wild for you.  You are beautiful to Him, because He made you. He made you special. The King is captivated by you. His eyes are on you, and He is crazy in love with you.

What would it look like to live in a constant awareness of His loving gaze?

Ever Feel Like You're Just Too Much?

I stood waiting at the airport ticket counter, a bulging purse slung over one shoulder, a stuffed briefcase over the other and a very heavy suitcase in tow. I knew that upon departing for my trip, my suitcase was precariously close to 48 pounds. Now on the return trip, I feared that I mis-packed and was going to tip over the 50 pound limit. Oddly, I considered the notion that if I could some how gain two pounds of body weight on a weekend getaway, maybe my suitcase could, too.

I felt the presence of the long line of people behind me, while the thought flashed through my mind, like a blinking neon sign – “what will I do if I have too much?”

“What if I place my suitcase on the scale and the digital indicator reads more than 50 pounds? What am I going to do? Pay the over price? No. That’s not sensible. Take something out? What will I remove? A heavy jean skirt? No. I am wearing that right now. My hair straightener ? No, probably won’t let me through security with that. A couple pairs of shoes? Now, where would I put those? My briefcase is already overflowing.”

Silly -- so, so silly. Finally, after an extended wait, I got called up to the counter – the counter that did not even have a scale. The attendant was gracious as he lifted my suitcase with a grunt, and placed it on the conveyor belt. He checked my bag through, gave me my ticket and I was on my way. All that wasted worry.

I don’t know about you, but sometimes similarly, I find myself lugging around the notion that I am too much -- too much for God. Too many hurts. Too much worry. Too complicated. Too many mistakes. Too prone to wandering. Too pathetic. Too serious. Too superficial. Too many questions. Too much trouble. From one extreme to another – just too much “stuff.” Memories and experiences, by my own doing and the doing of others, are crammed in to my heart, and I feel heavy and burdened.

Truth is, for me and for you sweet reader, we are not too much. We can’t have too many mistakes or hurts that stand in the way of our being accepted and loved by the Lord. He does not look at us and say, “Hmmm. We have a problem here. You are just too much. Can you unload something?”

Instead, He knows every little detail, and He is not interested in weighing it against us. He lifts up our hearts and tends to them. He doesn’t ask us to unpack them alone. He helps us. He knows the intimate and the practical parts of us. We can’t be too much for Him. He doesn’t ask us to pay for more than we think we can handle. He took care of the price. There is no weight limit to God. He has all the strength in the world to handle whatever we have.

Okay, I’m taking my eyes off of myself and fixing them on the my sweet Jesus. And as I do so, I think I can faintly hear His voice calling to me (and to you, too!) -- “Oh, dear child, I love you. Do you not know that I know exactly what is in your heart? I am here to lift your burden. It cannot be too heavy. I am not limited by anything. You are precious and honored in My sight. Let me love you. Let me carry you. Stop fighting. I am abounding in compassion. Fear not. I have summoned you by name; you are Mine.”

"Someday, My Prince will come ...."

The image of a sweet, innocent, trusting, yearning little girl inside each one of us is close to the surface of my heart this week. We may see her in a picture or in children around us, but maybe even stronger, we feel her deep down inside.

She is very real, isn’t she? Memory is an amazing thing. In remembering, we can conjure up images of events that have happened to us, joys or sorrows or hurts, as well as dreams that have faded. Our past affects our present; we can’t help it, it just does.

And in the brokenness and grief deep down inside most of us, our little girl hearts cry out, “Someday my prince will come …“ and we hope and so desperately want to believe that our knight in shining armor will rescue us and brings us security and joy.

And the good news is – He has.

Jesus came to rescue you from your sin and heartache in your life. When He looks at you, He thinks you are beautiful – because you are. He thinks that you have value– because you do. He thinks that you are worth fighting for – and He did. And He loves you very much.

He loves you whether you are:

· Young or old

· Tall or short

· Gray haired, brown haired, blonde haired or red haired.

He loves you regardless of:

· The color of your eyes

· The size of your dress

· Your shoe size

· What you do for a living or how many “talents” you possess

· How many children you have or the fact that you do not have any

He loves you if:

· You are married, divorced, single or widowed

· You live in a house, an apartment or a car

· You have failed and made bad choices in big ways and in little

· You have scars on your face – or scars on your heart

I need to remember this more days than not. Maybe you do, too.

Loved, Special, Made for a Purpose

Yes, that is me. Hair parted down the middle and pulled back with white plastic clip barrettes. I remember that dress with the white Peter Pan collar. It was very sweet. Can I say, I was sweet? I’ve been thinking a lot about this little girl – me as a little girl.

I attended a women’s retreat this past weekend. My friend Bridget did a presentation on how to relax and refresh yourself in simple ways – paint your nails, take a bath, exercise, read a book. However, I was caught off guard by what was at the top of her list and it brought up a well of emotion inside of me. She pulled out a picture of herself as a nine your old little girl, and she said, “Stop the negative talk about yourself. Talk positively to yourself about yourself. Speak kindly to yourself like you are a nine year old little girl.” I wept.

I came home and found this picture of me when I was nine, and wept some more. As I reflect back on what my friend went on to say, I would never tell this little girl (or any other little girl for that matter) that she was ugly or boring or useless. I would not tell her that she was not worthy of love or that she did not have any gifts. I would not tell her that no one cared about her.

So, why do I say otherwise to myself? Do you experience this, dear friend? I spend a lot of time listening to women and hearing their hearts, and I hear insecurities ooze out all over the place. Insecurities like mine and insecurities different than mine. They are all lies, and yet we hear them and repeat them to ourselves. What’ with that?

I don’t know. Something inside of us got contaminated along the way. Maybe cruel statements were heard, either through the words or actions of others, and somehow, someway a poison seeped in and began to destroy. We began to feel like damaged goods. Cracks in our hearts did not heal completely when we were hurt, and insecurities and lies began to distort reality and rot away at the truth that we are created by God, in His image, for a purpose, and that we are beautiful to Him.

So, what do we do?

Well, I am not entirely sure, but I am working on it. I liked what Bridget had to say – talk to yourself as if you are a nine year old little girl. Talk gently. Don’t belittle yourself. Talk to yourself as if you are special – because you are.

And tell yourself the truths of God, not the lies that you may have heard or felt somewhere along the way --lies that stick like leaches. God’s truth is bigger and stronger than the lies. You are His child (John 1:12). You are His workmanship (Ephesians 2:10). Your are fearfully and wonderfully made (Psalm 139:14). God has a plan and a purpose for your life (Jeremiah 29:11); you are not a waste. You are a treasured possession, (Deuteronomy 7:6) not junk. You are a friend of Jesus (John 15:15). You are chosen of God, dearly loved (Colossians 3:12), not worthless and rejected. You are never alone (Deuteronomy 31:6). You are loved with an unfailing love (Isaiah 54:10).

Your homework for today (if you should choose to accept the challenge), dear reader, is to find a picture of yourself when you were nine. Look in to that darling face and tell her that she is loved, special and made for a purpose. And then look at yourself in the mirror, and say the same thing. Say it because it was and is true; God says that about you.

(P.S. – I must share with you that I am feeling terribly vulnerable in sharing this story with you today; maybe it’s part of the lie that I sometimes believe that people are going to think I am ridiculous and that I have nothing of value to share, but I feel that God has called me to write this. I am willing to step out and live authentically for the sake of hope. I have prayed for you, dear reader, if you struggle in this area, that God will fill you with the truth and that you will begin to see more of Him and more of the truth about you.)