The last time I wrote here. I let a couple of weeks go by and they turned into months. I have a thought, but I let it slip away. I have experiences and changes to life and new roads and goodbyes and losses and gains.
I gather insight and hindsight like stickers (what a Texas girl calls burrs) in the waist-high grass of transitions. Never intending to let them cling to me, wanting merely to meander a while, passing through.
I believe the past few months have altered me in ways larger than I can describe. And then I think back farther, to 3 years ago as I took another road that led me states away from a place where 3 more years before that began a shift quite dynamic in itself.
I could keep looking backwards to find the ‘how’ which now makes me grown.
The me who some have known has often been a picture incomplete.
Because we are all more than just a few layers deep.
We are like stained glass, numerous colors coursing through slivers, striving to make a whole. An artwork some see beauty in, while others may believe gaudy and dated.
This post is as jumbled as I oftentimes am. Yet I smile, because that insight I picked up along the way reveals to me that I am becoming a person I recognize again. I have come back to a person who was more relaxed towards who I was, yet I am at a place now where I’m more comfortable in my own skin than I have ever been. Please do not read this as “I am free from my shortcomings, my insecurities are gone forever, I’m the best version of me that is possible.”
I can’t even type that with a straight face!…
I occupy my head with suppositions of what others might think of me; I chastise myself internally when I laugh too loud or speak without thinking or attempt humor only to achieve a bit of lame. I double check my actions “is this being taken the wrong way?” I censor my personality “will this make me more likable?”
But the difference now is, I find myself unable to keep a straight face at those standby worries too.
Because a larger part of me than ever before answers back “So what? Do you think trying something different will satisfy that person? If that person even can be satisfied by how you should or should not be, do you even want to bend for it?”
And above all that nonsense stands the only question and opinion that holds any weight at all:
“Who does He want me to be?“
I don’t even trust my own flimsy expertise on who I should be or how I should change, why on earth should I trust another person who is just as broken, confused, fallible and so-often-wrong? How can that not make me laugh at the thought of why I ever handed over that kind of power to begin with?
I would never try to set a broken bone of mine by myself or stitch gaping wounds closed with my own hands. I would want a professional who dedicated his or her entire life to doing it correctly. Just as so – why would I trust any fumbling arms with the responsibility of filling my lack except those of the Healer who devotes Himself to being everything I will ever need?
It may not make much sense within these sentences, but I know the effect of the words. I am finding His version of me more and more. With each unravel of the fabrics I used to cling to, with each rejection either large or small, with each change, with each memory of last month or last year or last lifetime ago…I am aware – there is so much better. Every new day is a reason to rejoice and learn something new.
I sing praises for the beauty I have seen in each of the state lines and introductions and game nights and retreats and trials and studies and friendships (how I have been blessed!). I thank God for the grand as well as the wretched and everything in between extremes because they were gifts – each day.
It takes a ‘No’ to learn what a ‘Yes’ means.
I am so grateful for lessons on my weakness absorbed by His strength. How I don’t have to strive to be anything more than the sum of my whole: He is mine. I am His. That equals complete.