who i am (not)

Tonight I met with God. I didn't want to. In fact, I even did the dishes and called my grandma (who for the first time in my life didn't answer) in order to avoid Him. But eventually I sat on my bed with my journal and started venting. There's no other way to get started sometimes except to word vomit for awhile.

I prayed God would help me be real, because the question we received to ponder at my Redemption Group training session today was this: "Where in your suffering has it been hard for the real you to meet the real Jesus?"

The pastor explained that God in the Bible is very honest about describing, graphically and specifically, our true struggles and pain and the situations causing us to suffer. If we aren't equally honest, we won't bring our real self to him. And if we bring a distorted, "I'm doing pretty good" version of ourselves to God, the version of "God" we meet with is likely to be distorted in our minds as well. The pastor called the real me to seek out the real God.

Which leads me back to my pow-wow on the bed. Here's the big question I was struggling with: is it okay to be me? I have been enslaved to comparing myself to other people, usually women, usually Christian wives, and I always, always, always fall short. There's about one day every two months where I feel like I have the energy to go 100% and I know in my heart there was no possible way I could have been more productive. On those days, my heart finishes at peace. The rest of the time, I just feel condemned for failing to measure up. My suffering has been exhaustion from carrying this heavy load.

And an hour ago, I was certain that God would agree with these accusations. I was sure they were all true, and that if I asked him what he thought about who I am, he would not only confirm my worst fear (that I was inadequate), he would add more shame to the pile. You can see why I wasn't racing to hang out with him.

But tonight, when the real me (God, I'm afraid you'll crush me with more condemnation. I don't even want to ask you to speak to me. I already know what you'll say.) sat with the real God, he first said, "I don't need you to impress me," and then, "I have missed you." I finally got the courage to ask him, "Did you make me the way I am?" he just answered, "Are you going to live as the person I made you to be?" I thought about it. And I lifted my chin and said no.

But I was smiling. He had won, I just didn't want to admit defeat right away. My heart felt peace.

Am I going to live as the person he made me to be? I feel compelled to share with you, the cyber universe, this person I have been trying so hard to avoid.

First and most importantly, I love my bed. I love being in it, it is my favorite place to spend time, I miss it when we are apart. I gave you the above photo as evidence of this fact. I most enjoy activities I can do from bed, like drinking wine (in the old days) and eating chocolate, and blogging, like I am doing right now. Reading and sleeping are also high up on the list. As far as the amount of tasks I can handle in any given week, my plate is small. Like, "I wish I could have dessert on this plate but it's too small" kind of small. I don't exercise and didn't have a ton of energy before I got pregnant, much less since. I can blame it on the baby, but let's be honest, I loved my bed before the baby and I will probably love it after. And the last three things I wish to confess are that I struggle deeply with contentment, I hate working, and I am not Debi Pearl. I'm sure there's more, but that's all that feels relevant tonight. Phew.

I am feeling okay with my little world now, praise God. I think this week I might give His challenge a shot.