it's going to be alright.
- Mama Rachel: I love your eloquent self. Thank you for the deep reflection today– I needed it. <3 Love, Rachel
- Sarah: Thank you for sharing. I’ve always felt uplifted by your words.
- Anja: We are parallels. Because of our faithfulness, our little family of seven was asked to be even more obedient...
- Jennifer Horne: I’ve come to believe that was seems mundane here, being a mother, is one of the most amazing...
what i write about
It’s not that I haven’t been going from day to day with absolutely nothing interesting to say.
It’s not that I haven’t had the time…although it sometimes seems like I don’t have any of that.
It’s just that I’ve been afraid to write.
Our home that is being built is just a hole in the ground right now.
I think it’s a very nice, well-defined, beautiful hole. It makes me happy to look at it.
And I was wishing it were moving more quickly. Wishing that I could see the foundation and where the windows would be, and I was pestering Heaven about it and then I remembered what I had been praying for since I realized we were going to be living here and building a home.
Do you remember? Because you have been with me on this little journey. I said I didn’t want to walk through the door with anything else but who I really am.
No extraneous vanity.
Just me. Just Who I Really Am.
Just a divine, tiny piece of stardust on a small world in a large galaxy in an infinite universe.
I wrote that I wanted to be comfortable not with what I thought I always wanted to be, but what I am destined to be.
And I have been trying.
And it is…sobering. And it hurts sometimes. And sometimes it is exhilarating and I am singing and trying to touch the stars. And sometimes I think it’s impossible.
So, Heaven gently reminded me that I wanted this. I wanted the time. Because no one gets comfortable with who they really are overnight.
And Heaven said,
If you want your home to be built faster, then change faster.
And I realized that I can’t go any faster. I am imperfect and slow and sometimes I even feel like a lumbering, giant disaster.
That’s how come it’s hard to write.
How do I tell you that I look in the mirror and realize that for the first time in my life, I see myself?
I really see myself.
I think for most of my life, I’ve been avoiding that girl gazing back at me. I tried to hurry through combing my hair, looking around, but not directly at her. I would catch a glimpse of her in a mirror at the mall and I would walk the other way. I would see her out of the corner of my eye in the reflection of a window and I would hurry past.
Why didn’t I want to look at her?
I think I was afraid of really studying her–in a quick glimpse I could catch her exuding confidence and a smile, but I was afraid if I looked too closely I would catch glimpses of the insecurities and the flaws and the destiny I was afraid to face.
So I have avoided her for 40 years.
And when I was coming Back To Life, I remember finally realizing that I had to look. I had to see. I couldn’t keep avoiding her. The real me was there, and I guess I was always afraid if I looked deeply at my reflection, I would see the real me and what if I wasn’t enough?
But, I remember getting up from my bed and untangling the walker from the IV stand and painfully shuffling into the bathroom. I remember using all of my energy to get in there to brush my teeth. And as I was brushing my teeth, I looked in the mirror.
And I saw her.
I looked past the unshowered, IV fluid filled puffy face and I looked in her eyes.
I saw the little girl I had been avoiding for so very long and she was unsure, but angels were with me and they told me she was not only enough, she was amazing.
And then I dropped my toothbrush. And I got back in bed, and I forgot about her for awhile.
But since I wrote about the woman I want to be, I have been looking in the mirror.
Gazing at the reflection, I am bravely looking deep and seeing things I’ve never seen before, not really.
And I am beginning to understand who I really am. I am beginning to grasp just how much I can do. And that reflection is no longer a little girl.
It is terrifying. It is one thing to go through life just not looking hard–but when you look hard you can’t deny that you are pretty capable of changing the world and being incredible. Even if you are just a small piece of stardust. You can’t make any more excuses. Because deep down you know that Heaven knows you can do and be everything you were meant to do and be.
So, I am finally trying to be who I am meant to be.
Sometimes when I look at myself, I realize there is something there that just needs to be not there. And it hurts to let it go.
It’s like when you think you want chocolate and you eat it and you realize that you really wanted a salad. The chocolate just doesn’t even taste good, but you still eat it because you think in your mind that you want it and that it will make you feel better.
And then you end up eating salad because that’s what you really wanted and when you’re done with the salad you wonder why you ever thought you wanted chocolate.
Of course, this example could also work in reverse.
Heaven was right. It’s time consuming to shed baggage and years of being distracted. Oh, I thought I knew what I was doing. But I never really looked at myself, so I only halfway knew what I was doing.
I couldn’t be the mother I can be now, because all those years I was afraid of who I really could become. Terrified of a destiny that I didn’t know if I really wanted or–even more scary–was even capable of.
And the thing is, it’s not really amazing to anyone but me. My destiny is to be comfortable in my own skin.
To laugh with my children.
To bind up the broken hearted.
To Be There.
That’s it. Nothing amazing. Nothing noteworthy to anyone but Heaven.
I have spent years avoiding the girl in the mirror because I didn’t want to grow up and face the reality that my best moments were to be in the quiet, deep recesses of my broken-patched-back-together-by-Grace heart.
And avoiding that reflection all these years didn’t change my destiny. It just made it harder.
So I am accepting who I really am and who I am meant to be and I realize I have only just begun.
And I don’t need to be scared because I finally see me. And with Heaven’s help, I will be enough.
Thank you for coming along for the ride with me. You are part of the reason I am where I am.
And I am going to be alright.