I stopped writing because I fell victim to the fear that my writing isn’t good enough. That it’s pointless, purposeless, unnecessary. Even though, countless times, I have been told the very opposite of that. Even though people have reached out to tell me that my writing is good, honest, meaningful, and powerful and that they look forward to reading whatever I write next.
I stopped making art because I started to believe that lie that I wouldn’t be as good as the artists I follow on Instagram. Even though people have encouraged me start an Etsy shop. Even though people have paid me to create for them. I stopped seeing my purpose in my job as my disdain for it and my students grew and festered like a cancer. I believed the lie that I’d never be good enough; even though the feedback I had gotten from students and parents in the past was the farthest from “not good enough.” But this year, all I’ve felt is “not good enough;” because I stopped being who I am and fell into the vicious machine of this world. I stopped enjoying working out as I started to believe the lie that I needed to be “better, faster, stronger”. I’ve always been an athlete ever since my elementary years. I always loved all of the athletic endeavors I attempted because, to me, my purpose in playing was the joy I got out of it. Don’t get me wrong, I’m competitive. I always have been, but I’ve always naturally made “the love of the game” my priority. So, I was able to be “stronger, better, faster,” without the pressure of being “stronger, better, faster;” simply because I loved what I was doing. I don’t know when I fell into the “stronger, better, faster” lie. The comparison trap lie. The “you must be like everyone else” lie. I don’t know when I started to lose sight of my value, purpose, and uniqueness as I slid into to trying to attain conformity with others rather than holding steadfastly confident to the truth of who I was created to be, and walking boldly in that truth. It was a slow, sneaky descent, but the journey downward has made the view here from the top that much more empowering. As I sit here after months of trying to get back to myself, my resolution - or maybe it’s more like a battle cry - is to stop the fallacy of “stronger, better, faster”. To cease striving and fall on grace and to do things “for the love” again. To write for the love of words, and sharing and the beauty of connecting with others. For the love of self-awareness and personal growth. To write because it makes me feel empowered and purposeful. To create art for the love of beauty, color, making mistakes, and inspiration. For the love of making a mess. For the love of looking at something I’ve created and being proud of it, and proud of myself as I remember the joy and peace I felt in the process. To create for the joy of focus and serenity. To teach for the love of humanity. For the love of finding joy in the practice of believing in another. For the love of sacrificial service to someone who may never be able to repay your kindness or return your investment in their lives. To workout for the love of movement. For the love of finding joy in strength. For the love of celebrating what my body can do, rather than succumbing to frustration and defeat over what it cannot. For the love of persevering. For the love of surprising myself as when I accomplish things I didn’t think I could. For the love of the fiercely empowering feeling of relentless determination when I set my mind to something. For the love of believing in myself. For the love of working to sustain this body so that it can live as long as possible, and experience as much of this life as possible. To love, joy, peace, purpose, faith, and confidence - thank you for letting me take you back.
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Some added insight to the original post below. That's the thing I love about writing. It's such a human thing. Our words and thus are influence and insight are often changing as we continue to live, learn, grow, and try our best to thrive. There is no end to it, and it can always be added to, changed, redeemed, and recycled.
1/3/16 The unshakable thought has come to mind that we perhaps oftentimes give anxiety far too much power. We think it can never go away, As I wrote below about a month ago. There are times I experience complete and total freedom and other times I feel like something is trying to run me over, or bury me alive. This week has beea run-me-over week for me. So I've thought and prayed and reflected and talked with people about this quite about over the past few days. I had resolved that this is always something I'll have to live with and just learn to manage. BUT, if I believe the power of Christ in me than that means my anxiety can be gone for good - but I will have to fight for that nonetheless. Also, as I mentioned first below, what it is that we're really afraid of? A new friend told me that in an episode of Brain Games, they talked about how at one point in time people had real, rational anxieties. Like getting attacked by a bear if they are in the woods, drowning when swimming, or getting into a car accident, etc. Their anxiety was over real threats that could actually harm them. But what are my anxieties about? I don't fear (probably unwisely) getting attacked by a bear if I'm in the woods, or drowning, or getting into a car accident.... But I harbor fear over what my job will be and where I'm going in life, even when I'm in love with and have confidence in my current job because I followed God straight to it? I sometimes have fear over every decision I've ever made in my life? Over what the future holds for me relationally? None of these things post any sort of imminent harmful threat. They are simply things of this life that yes, okay, can be difficult. But no unmanageable, and certainly not things to cause soul-crushing, rapid-fire heartbeat anxiety. So why do I give them so much power? Currently working on realizing that it may not necessarily be "anxiety" that pulls me under, but the unreasonable power I give to these things that I fear that should never have been sources of anxiety to begin with. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 12/6/15 I've been realizing lately just how sneaky anxiety can be. Sometimes it runs you down like a tractor in a cornfield and honestly, that's the easy part. For me, at least, it's easy to weep in a darkened room, taking deep breaths in between repetitions of "Jesus, please take this" and know that within minutes it'll all be over. That's easy. Scary, but easy. Easy compared to spending 30 minutes trying to get out bed in the morning struggling not because you're tired or because your bed is simply too comfortable to leave, but because of a thousand fears that have already run through your head - fears that you can barely even name. Easy compared to realizing you’re starting to let yourself go bit by bit each day because your self-care has unwittingly fallen second to just making it out the door in one piece - to fighting to make sure each step you take is not in fear. That's the sneaky part. These daily fears that I can't even name. You're probably wondering how I don't even know what I'm anxious about. How can I not even name the things I fear daily? I don't know. I don't know because I have no idea what I'm afraid of. There's just fear. Fear that hides itself so well that I don't even know it's there but it affects me nonetheless. Actually, it just dawned on me as I’m now writing this that I probably can't name my fears because they're not actually real. That's what anxiety is. What you feel isn't reality, even though it feels more real than anything. So, basically, you're trying to fight something that doesn't even exist. While I sing the greater reality that, "I'm no longer a slave to fear, for I am a Child of God", I know in my inmost being that it's true. That I've been set free. That Jesus has loosed the chains of the oppressions of fear, but I'm also realizing that the reality of living in a broken world is that sometimes the chains try to come back. Like a slithering, ruthless boa constrictor who, by the time it strikes its prey, the creature is rendered helpless with no time to react or escape. But it was Jesus who made the greatest escape of all time. The one from death into life eternal and so I know that although the fear comes knocking, it can never fully get back in. Which is why, I’m learning, that daily dependence on Jesus to banish those sneaky, unnamable fears is essential. CS Lewis posited, “Relying on God has to begin all over again every day as if nothing had yet been done.” Jesus, please come set me free anew each day. No matter the severity, mental health issues are real and scary for the person dealing with them. But they shouldn’t be scary for you. My challenge to you is that if you love or come across someone struggling with an issue of mental health, you first acknowledge their humanity by simply being there, then by listening, and then by encouraging them to get help. For the love of all things good and Holy please do not tell them to, "Just get over it", "You've gotta move past it," or "What you're feeling isn't real." Because yes, what they're feeling isn't the reality of who they are but to them is the realest thing in their life right now. To the person not yet strong enough to separate their anxiety or other mental health related oppression from what is actually real, you are invalidating their existence and that is in no way helpful. So whether it’s from a counselor, or from getting connected to a small group at church, a mentor, or some other type of support group, let them know that there are people who are there for them. That while their struggle is real, and not uncommon, they don't have to brave it alone. We weren’t made to live life alone and we certainly are not called to be exclusionary. Let’s be welcoming, and listen more than we try to fix. Two new students joined my class today, one of whom speaks no English.
My natural reaction when I first found this out last week was that I needed this like I need a hole in the head. Yet, as soon as the thought passed through my mind it was stopped by another; This is a blessing. I tell my students almost everyday that there is no whining in my classroom. Ever. We are going to always be grateful and look at challenges as ways to help us grow and get better rather than whine about it. Actually, I apparently reinforce this so much that now my kids have now started to keep one another in line without any prompting from me. It's adorable and terrifying all at the same time as I begin to see just how much influence I have in their lives. This attitude of gratitude is so important to me, yet why was I so quick to label something as a burden that was inevitably going to make my job harder? I've been trying to think about how this change is a blessing and although I can't predict exactly what's going to come of it since obviously I can't see into the future, I am thrilled for this chance to grow into a better teacher and for my students to become even more inclusive, patient, and understanding. We talk a lot about these situations as "blessings in disguise". Now I'm wondering where that even came from. A blessing is simply that. A blessing. They don't come disguised. We are just the ones who disfigure them with our cynical and dismal outlooks. Where you set your mind really does make a difference. I feel like I always forget this so easily, but I'm thankful for situations that always re-convict me of this truth. It has been far too long since I've last written. Long enough that I find myself asking if it's genuinely something that I care about.
All the while, those words circle around me, a haunting of sorts, an ever-persisting thorn in my side whose prickles I thought I had long ago dislodged. But I gather that's why it is my thorn, I want you to write. And I want you to trust me. So I write and I trust and I surrender in simple obedience. When I begin to see why, it suspends me in a state of startled awe and Holy fear. I never know where my words will go, who will read them, who will breathe them in and let them settle in their soul as I do with the words of my new and long-time favorite trusted authors. We write to tell a story yet sometimes mine feels feigned as I don't even know what story I am telling or what story He wants me to tell. That is how this post started. Directionless. Yet here my words go, somehow expanding this page one letter at a time. In spite of myself, I write. And I trust. Because soon enough the curtain will be drawn back to reveal the "whys" of this odd beckoning to fearlessly toil in my present investments, entrusted giftings, and precious little ones. I loathe this daily trusting but the promises are just too strong. Just too settled in some deep place of my heart that I cannot quite seem to fully reach yet I somehow indubitably know is so, so very real. After the recent Supreme Court ruling that legalized gay marriage, a prominent Christian leader who's following mainly consists of women in their 20's and late teens posted this on her Instagram: "I always take sides. It's with God or against Him. Black or white. Wrong or right. Simple as that. Take your pick." That post came after another one in which she made is very clear that she does not agree with SCOTUS' ruling and encouraged her followers to live out God's perfect ways and always take a stand for what you believe, even if it's scary to do so. Well, here I am also living out God's perfect ways and taking a stand. Although a very different one than she; because I always take God's side too. Yet, what exactly is "God's side"? I'm certain that her interpretation of what God's side is looks vastly different than mine. The God I've come to know always stands on the side of love and justice. So, the world in black and white? How terrible does that sound? No differences. No ingenuity. No creativity. No color. No diversity in beauty. No inclusivity. Just "this way" or "that way" and if you don't fit then well, sorry. In a black and white world, there exists none of the things that make us want to live this life in the first place. There is no such thing as a black and white world. There can't be. If there was, then life wouldn't be so difficult. There were be a clear right, wrong, and set way to do things and no one would question it. God in black and white isn't a thing either. Whenever my students are engaged in some sort of critical thinking I always remind them to double check their thinking by asking themselves, "Based on what I know about this topic, is my conclusion reasonable?" I don't know about you, but a black and white world does not make reasonable sense based on my own lived experience of life not only in the world but also as a Christ-follower. Neither does a black and white God. My experience with God has been the very opposite of black and white. It has been hard, confusing, and at times full of uncertainty as I wrestle with God in prayer over where He wants me and what He is doing in my life and why. I can say with 100% certainty that many people would say the same.
I'm tired of people trying to make this world a black and white world and our God a black and white God. I'm tired of people being so unwilling to challenge their view of an issue. Do you not realize that this only further marginalizes others? And adds to your own ignorance? We celebrate when people take big bold risks and step out of their comfort zones in faith because we know that's what ultimately makes our faith grow by multitudes. So why are those same people so unwilling to even consider another perspective when it comes to these big issues? If, as a Christian, you care about all people and are seeking to love them as Jesus did yet you are so closed to other perspectives then, well, I'm going to argue that you're doing it wrong. If I'm trying to be a true follower of Jesus then I cannot just see things from my own perspective. It is unjust of me to seek to understand someone else's experience of being human solely from my own limited perspective. It is also unjust of me to form a rock solid opinion on something when I haven't considered all possible options. When I haven't done all possible research. Which is actually kind of impossible now that I think of it. If we are always learning, changing, and growing, there will always be more to discover. Therefore, forming opinions that don't change over time would be unwise. We know that Jesus came for the downtrodden, the marginalized, the ones hated and cast out and harshly judged by society. The ones whom the "elites" of society wouldn't even look at. And we know what Jesus did. He looked at those same people, he LISTENED to them, and then simply said, "Follow me." And yet all week I've read articles from Christians who instead of listening are essentially saying, "No, YOU listen to ME." How can I grow in understanding as I am called to do as a Christ-follower if I decide that one view about something is the "right" view and I won't even so much as glance at something different? As a Christ-follower I am called to grow in my understanding of God and others. So, please let me know if I'm missing something here but I'm pretty sure we can't do that if we hold so tightly onto one school of thought without reaching out to learn from others. Especially those with whom we disagree. We are told to hold fast to what we believe. Well here is what is at the core of what I thought we believed - that Jesus is the son of God. That although he was without sin, He died on a cross for the sins of humanity and then rose again 3 days later. We believe that he is now seated at the right hand of God and that one day he will return. We need to realize that holding fast to anything other than that is problematic. That is the only belief that I'm holding fast to. The only one that I will never sway on. Because how can we hold fast to anything else when everything else but the fact of who Jesus is is ever-changing based on how we progress as a race of humans? We need to start listening more. For the sake of others, ourselves, our faith, and our world. And in light of this week's ruling, it thrills me to be able to conclude that most of us are moving in what I argue to be the right direction. "Right" in this case meaning the direction of love, justice, and understanding. Happy 4th of July weekend. God has certainly blessed America. Two or so weeks from now will mark one year of my start at CrossFit. I feel like a "What I learned from 1 year of CrossFit" post is mandatory when you're a CrossFitter and a blogger. I also just want to write about this because I just really love CrossFit.
A lot of people say that CrossFit has changed their life. I don't know if I can honestly go to that extreme, but I can, without hesitation, say that it has changed me, and has changed me for the better. So, here we go. From 1 year of CrossFit, I learned... 1) Strong is beautiful, and strong feels great too. I thought I was strong before CrossFit, but now? Strong takes on a vastly different definition. It's not about how you look or even about how much you can lift. It's about how you value and take of your body. Similarly, beauty is also not about how you look and no, it's also not about how "it's what's on the inside that really counts". Beauty is the sheer grace and power that comes with being strong and owning that strength both physically ("on the outside") AND mentally/emotionally ("on the inside"). 2) You are stronger than you think you are. Ninety-five percent of the time I walk into class, the goals in my head are way too conservative. Primarily because sometimes I just don't think I can achieve the goals that I really want to. Yet, almost every time I end up lifting more and/or getting more reps or rounds in than I expected. It has taken some time, and I'm still working at it, but I've learned to shut-down that self-doubt almost as soon as I think it. Just remembering what I've already accomplished in that gym is the best reminder of just how much I am capable of. I mean, I started looking into CrossFit two and a half years ago but at first choose to do barre instead because I didn't think I'd make it even one day at CrossFit. Now I have year-end goals like 150# clean and jerk and 115# snatch. Which are not conservative goals for me... Which now brings me to the third thing I've learned... 3) Patience is everything. Snatching makes me want to cry. And it has. There are other movements that frustrate me too (more on that in point #4) but nothing makes me quite as...hm, how to say this... annoyed? irritated? angry? indignant? as snatching. I feel like I've gotten immeasurably better at everything in CrossFit EXCEPT FOR THIS AND IT'S THE WORST FEELING. THE WORST. Yet, I realized the other day that I've made small improvements and that's just how it has to be. I realized that the days I patiently chip away at my weak spots, those are some of the best days I've had in the gym. Isn't that true about life too? We're so much more fulfilled when we patiently work to make ourseves better at something rather than just trying it and having no problems or struggle. Okay, back to CrossFit... So, patience is required to even be good at this particular movement at all. Patience is something I have in abundance for others but not really something I have for myself. Thankfully there are coaches who model that patience with and for me and will say, "Just be patient. Take your time. Your biggest problem patience," over and over and over again for as many times as I need to hear it. Their steady patience calms me down and helps me work on my own. And thankfully there are coaches who also keep believing in me, guiding me, correcting me, extending grace to me no matter how many times it might feel like I'm directing my frustrations towards them :) Now bringing me to #4... Another month has come and gone and now we're half way through the year?? How can that be?!
May was a great month. Full of joys and trials and persevering and hoping. Some doors closed, some news ones started to open and I really focused on being still and patient, and listening more than doing. In May, I... 1) left my 5th graders. Some of them I miss terribly but others...well, let's just say that if I ever see them again it will be too soon. Just being honest. It was a tough 5 months of being thrown headfirst into teaching. But, much like our faith, I found that my teaching practice was definitely best refined through fire. C.S. Lewis wrote, "Experience: the most brutal of teachers. But you learn, my God, do you learn." Yeah, he was right. 2) ran a 5K and a Spartan Race! The 5K was super fun. It was for the Madison Education Foundation and I ran with one of my students. She did a superstar job and I'm still so proud of her for not giving up even though she cramped pretty badly! The Spartan was rough. The obstacles weren't too bad but it was on a ski mountain so like 75% of the race was uphill. Terrible. Just terrible. BUT I feel super accomplished and I would totally do another one. Maybe not until next year though... 3) started reading for pleasure again. I <3 reading. Like, a lot. I used to spend the entirety of my Saturdays sitting in one spot and reading a book cover to cover. I still do it now if I can. Those are some of the best days. In June, I will... 1) blog more. Seriously. I wrote two posts last months. 2 posts in 30 days. That's just sad. 2) cheer on friends at the Super Steelfit finals at Jenks!! So proud of my friends and CANNOT wait to see them crush their competition. 3) see Lady Antebellum, Hunter Hayes, and SAM HUNT in concert at PNC this Friday with one of my very best friends and whole reason I even listen to country music in the first place. So happy that she didn't end our friendship when I rolled my eyes at her pick-up truck with country blasting from the open windows. 4) be more prayerful about my the future of my career and ambitions and life goals in general. This Mother's Day I'm realizing that there a few wise lessons my mother's has instilled in me that I've not only actually fully embraced and lived by, but have begun to pass along to others as well. I think I've almost always lived by them to some degree but as I teacher I find myself instilling this same wisdom into my students and I am more and more realizing the undeniable truth behind them. So, here we go. I will be forever thankful that my mother taught me to: 1. Always have gratitude. She taught this by reminding me to always write thank you notes no matter how big or small the gift. At first it was annoying and tedious. I'd be bored as I wrote but I always realized that by the end, I actually enjoyed writing thank you's. I can't explain it other than to say that it just made me smile. Right now one of my students is writing about how "being kind makes you feel better and also makes others feel better." Well, I've realized that gratitude works the same way. Expressing your gratitude makes you a more truly grateful and, in turn, a more joyful person. Flannery O'Connor wrote, "Don't let me ever think, dear God, that I was anything but the instrument for Your story. Just like the typewriter was mine."
Do you ever forget that you're not the one running the show here? That as much choice and freedom as we have over our own lives, we are not ultimately the ones who make the final edits to send our story off to press each day? I'm pretty much the number one offender of thinking that I run my own life. That everything I've accomplished, I've done on my own. Moreover, that everything will happen as I'd like to write it. When I take a step outside of myself to actually look at the story I'm living, it is so blatantly obvious that this 26 year-long (and counting) autobiography, has NEVER played out the way that I tried to originally write it. Thankfully, God has so faithfully cemented a yield sign at every single point in my life where I thought I could re-write the map on my own. When I look back at the road that I would've tripped down had I disregarded those yield signs, I am eternally grateful that I was granted eyes to see the bigger story unfolding outside of my little self and a spirit brave and willing enough to die to my own selfishness. If you told me 7 years ago that I would be writing all of the words that I just did, I wouldn't believe you. I would tell you that God is a controlling dictator who just wants me to "follow the rules" and be a puppet. No, I wouldn't be one of those crazy people. As March came to a close I quickly realized I didn't accomplish nearly as much as I had wanted to. Yet, still I can say, "it is well". I am content with the small successes of March and am expectantly anticipating what April will bring. Because being content with what I have actually done is more important than wallowing in what I wanted to achieve but didn't. So here's the monthly look-back plus next months goals! In March, I... 1. Ran... twice. So, check for the "start half marathon training" goal? Don't judge me. It was still cold. And I was sick for two straight weeks. It was a slow three miles to get back into the running groove and, both times, by the end I literally collapsed onto the floor of the porch but, it felt really good to be out there again. 2. Thanks to IF:Equip for launching an Easter study right after the Hebrews study I can check off my goal to stay in the Word! My conclusions from this study: Jesus is without a doubt the real deal. 3. Didn't write chapter one but I did finish the outline. I'm okay with it. Writing has always been a slow process for me. A process that's also full of doubt. Just going to take the progress on this book as it comes. 4. Being sick for two weeks meant birthday fun didn't happen. Oh well. In April, I will... 1. RUN! Seriously. Especially because I have a Spartan Race at the end of May. I'm feeling okay about the obstacles because of CrossFit (I mean, I'll still probably want to die but, whatever) but I'm worried about actually covering distance. 2. Faith goal for April is to look to God more than I look at my circumstances. While dying on the cross Jesus didn't answer his mockers because his ear was tuned to his Father. If Jesus, in his most fully human moment, could tighten his grip on God as the literal weight of the world physically and spiritually tore him from our Father, surely I can do far better than I am right now. 3. Writing goal is to just write something. Literally anything. Even one sentence of this book. I need to focus on building myself up through small goals and successes when I write. Otherwise I get overwhelmed and fearful. 4. Apply to jobs. I hate job searching. Pray for me. Ask me if I'm applying. Hit me over the head if I hesitate. Let me know if you hear of any elementary job openings. Please and thank you. |
Author4th grade teacher. Writer. Justice-seeker. Encourager. CrossFitter. John 11:40. Archives
July 2017
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