Identity

When I pictured this blog, I thought to myself,

"Hey girl. Get some great shots of your work and put it out there! You’ve got this!! Let's see who we can encourage because you are ON POINT." I had this life coach sort of mentality and even I was annoyed at my optimism.

So then I started writing about what was working. Coolcoolcool. Bullet points so you don't get lost in a sea of success. A SEA. But to be super honest, I basically just found my footing. The holidays were ROUGH. I spent the month of January checking out and checking the boxes for what I thought things should look like. I really felt like a fake it til you make it mindset was going to bring me home. Nope. Not so.

I sort of lost track of who I am. Wife. Mom. Christian. Artist. Friend. Errr Homemaker. Ummm arti...I mean creative person. Counselor (but I'm not practicing...shhhhh). Trained counselor (that's better). Healthy woman. I mean mostly healthy. No, claim it. HEALTHY. All of these identities sort of bounce around and it's really difficult to decide what is most important right now. So I grab one out of a hat, well then I grab a bunch at once. I mean...I can multitask. Nopenopenope.

All of this work to determine my identity. After several spins on the hamster wheel, I found that I wasn't getting anywhere. And no less fluffy. (Like a hamster...see what I did there?) If I am able to fill so many roles, why is it becoming so difficult to figure out what I should be doing? Who am I supposed to be?

The answer was simple. All of it. Just kidding...it's complicated and always changing! I told another mom a couple weeks ago that balance for me is like a pie that has constantly changing slices. I immediately hated the analogy and realized how it shapes my thinking. The bigger one slice, the smaller another. No room for growth...it all has to "fit in the pan." And when a slice is removed, there's a gaping hole in its absence. That's not balance at all!

The more I thought about it, the more I picture the things that matter to me falling into rings. The center ring is my personal wellbeing and growth. Next is my marriage, then kiddos, relationships, and finally outside interests. There's no rhyme or reason to the traits I listed...I went with my gut and didn't overthink it. I tried not to repeat myself, but it was clear that many of the roles and values would be listed multiple times.

Each growing ring benefits from the development of rings beneath it. In my experience, the reverse is not true. Developing outer rings first and moving inward is less successful because we are shaping our roles and identity based on what others need from us. Always changing, adapting, molding, bending, breaking, building, tearing, falling, listening, watching, waiting. This may cause the inner rings to feel more like quicksand than a solid core.

This can be confusing because putting "first things first" or "majoring in the majors" means you may not have the time for things you'd like to be doing. It feels as though we're sacrificing a part of ourselves for the benefit of others. That's pie-shaped thinking. Growing in each of those rings only makes us stronger and able to offer more to each growing ring.

I find that the pressure to fit a mold is lifted when I base my decisions on the values and beliefs that are important to me. They aren't based on circumstances. I made commitments to my husband when I married him and my children when I brought them into the world. My friends and family have been so influential and crucial to our lives. Extracurriculars are important and do shape our identity. They should not be excluded from our lives. As the "outer layer," they are the culmination of what lies beneath (name of my first horror movie). We fill these roles as a result of...not in place of...our core being.

I started this blog with a very “outside in” mindset. I had goals for what I wanted it to look like and how I wanted to present myself. That was exhausting. Now what I really want is to show up...just as I am...and encourage women to know love, life, and Jesus. It takes courage to say that because being a maker is more universally flattering. Good thing I didn't make this decision based on my outer rings, huh? :)

Forgotten Stories

I had forgotten how much I love to write. When I was younger, I would make up stories to cope with stress or simply just to disappear into my own world. Daydreaming has always been my best defense against boredom.

I imagined and wrote so many stories over the years. One story continued. I wrote of a brother and sister escaping a house fire. It was set in the old west. I was pretty into Legends of the Fall and Brad Pitt and what not. Also, I may or may not have listened to the soundtrack while writing. Anyways. The siblings lost their parents and depended on one another as they did not know who else they could trust. I didn’t know it at the time, but this story encompassed so much of what I was feeling in my own family. My parents loved us and also had difficulty hiding their problems. Villains were clear in the story...people in life that I did not trust showed up here.

I shared this story for the first time in a creative writing class. The professor had just shared her own short story, which involved a fire. My classmates didn’t believe me when I said I had been writing this story over and over for years. They assumed it was unoriginal and yawned at the theme of fire. I remember feeling embarrassed and invalidated.

I stopped writing the story when my brother disappeared from my life. It was too painful to consider the story with just my heroine escaping the flames, with no one to trust and no one to turn to. The thought of finishing the story without him in it was unbearable. How on earth would she ever make it alone? The whole thing went up in flames.

Now that I am writing again, my heart is swelling with stories and the beauty of their meaning. I am filled with a love for truth that is woven into the fiber of our experiences.

Jesus was a storyteller. He introduced us to characters we could relate to, stories that seemed familiar, and themes that felt as though they were taken from the pages of our own book.

That story was important to me. It was a way to say, "Hey! I don't think we're doing okay here!" and "I'm not sure we should trust them." As a child, my voice was small. But in that story, I fought fire and stood tall against my enemies.

Tell the story. Write the truth. Be right where you are. Live passionately with the gifts you have been given. Recall a time where you were filled with life and consider what fueled you. It may have been as far back as childhood, when your cares were less. What cares are holding you back now? Tend to them. Where do you find healing? For me, it's always God. A different route, but always the same destination.

It is in our nature to tell stories, whether written or spoken. It is in our nature to be known. It is not in our nature to go up in flames.

Show Up

I woke up slowly, my body still tired from a restless night. After long moments of waking my mind and prying my eyes open, I sat up and realized he was gone. The bed beside me was cold and empty. I stood up abruptly and went to the closet. Suitcase gone. I sunk to the floor and held my head in my hands. I didn't know how long he would be gone and I didn't have the chance to say goodbye. Soon the baby was stirring and I had to go on about my day, earlier than usual but still too late. I knew I would see him again, but my heart ached all the same. Our lives had grown so chaotic and tiresome that somehow I completely missed our important date, our kisses on the hand, our ritual of one last glance, one long hug, and one long goodbye before the distance would fall into place between us.

This. This is the feeling. Longing, loss, sadness, disappointment. There will be distance and you don't have the chance to say goodbye. Something special awaits, but somehow you missed it. I awoke with this feeling yesterday and it still haunts me. The story above is fictional, but captures what my heart felt early that morning. I try to spend the first moments of my day reading the Bible, a book on faith, and writing in my prayer journal. I sacrifice sleep to gain a perspective I cannot muster up on my own.

I looked at the clock and it was 5:30am. Still one full hour of sleep ahead of me and I really felt that I needed it. I felt this whisper in my heart, "Come with me." Not real words, no voice. Just this deep sense that if I got up and spent that time in prayer or devotion, I would find something there. It would be meaningful, special even. It felt important. So I bargained with God and went back to sleep. Before I knew it, the alarm went off and the day began. I felt regret and somehow knew the time we would have wouldn't be the same. It didn't require the same sacrifice that it would have in the dark, early hours.

My daughter woke up a full hour earlier than usual. I closed my book, cut short my time, and plunged into my daily roles without breaks. By the end of the day, I looked at my husband and said "Do you know what I could've used today? One hour more. Just one." I have felt that way before and I will feel it again. But. The One who knows me and knows what is in store for me...called me. Our time together is important, our ritual of listening and sharing, understanding more fully and falling in love with new discoveries about one another. Err my new discoveries because He already knows me. As I have drawn closer to Him in these past few weeks, His heart is made known to me. My heart is made known to me. You guys don't want me without Jesus, TRUST. The passion for life and people is intoxicating.

I ask God to speak clearly and to show up. But am I listening? And do I show up? I am postured for readiness, but my eyes are distracted and elsewhere. How many times have I missed this whisper? This gate to the secret garden, this wardrobe to another land? I seek to be transported, and yet how often do I take the first step?

So I chose not to dwell. You can bet your sweet tush I got out of bed today and made that time happen. There is still a sense that perhaps I missed something, but I also have this new appreciation for who God is. For the mountains He will climb and the rivers He will cross to impact our lives. Ultimately, His provision astounds me. I may have made some new discovery yesterday...maybe I would have been handed the key to unlock the door called "What's Next" for me and felt clarity about the next stage of life. See why I was so disappointed? THAT was on the line. Possibly. However, He still provided a sense of urgency and a repentance that was born out of weakness. Two choices, one future. Nothing in the trash. Nothing wasted, nothing lost. Moving right along. Like a daughter that wants to please her Father, I am listening.

"Before they call, I will answer; while they are yet speaking, I will hear." Isaiah 65:24