Collecting the Pieces

Sometimes I feel overwhelmed by all the responsibilities in my life. I begin to feel stretched, you know? Like I can't do all that I need to do the way I need to do it. Feelings of inadequacy and failure creep in.

Then I remind myself that it's not my life to begin with. It's God's. He's put these opportunities in front of me. He will guide me through them.

I've always known that, but sometimes I forget to rely on Him as much. I put pressure on myself to do my part and His.

Nights like this are a blessing, when I collect the pieces of myself and come back to Him and say, "Here am I. Lead me. Guide me. Walk beside me. Work with me and through me. Let's do this life thing together."

It takes the pressure off of having to be it all and do it all. That's not my job. He is All. I just have to be the best me--the me that listens and relies on Him everyday. And everything will be as it should.

Roller coasters Scare Me

The older I get I notice a few things: I make funny noises when I bend over, I say things like "Kids theses days," and I worry more about things I didn't used to.

I don't mind the first two. They are both rights of passage, in a sense. But, I worry about the last one (talk about irony!)

When I first met my husband I told him I wanted to sky dive. I really did. It was an exciting notion: to fly!

But, now, I remind him constantly to wear his seat belt and slow down when he drives over the speed limit.

I don't find joy in roller coasters as I used to, either. For some reason, I have it stuck in the back of my mind that if there is a chance something bad could happen, that I would be the one it happens to.

Terrible, isn't it?!

It's actually quite sad, too.

This middle-aged fear hasn't kept me from doing a lot of things, but it has definitely kept me from enjoying a lot thing. Now, I'm not riddled with fear, and afraid to leave the house, but I do find that I allow the 'what-ifs' to ruin many things I used to enjoy.

I was thinking about that this morning, and I realized something really powerful. Something that I already knew, but didn't seem to fully understand.

I often say, "Faith is a choice." But, this morning, the words came to my mind, "Fear is choice."

And, so, this morning, I decided not to be afraid anymore.

Yes, I know it will be much harder to do that do say, but the point it, it is my choice to try to make that happen.

2 Timothy 1:7 states: For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.

Fear is really the act of allowing the thoughts of what you do not want to have happen overtake the what is actually happening.

That's all it is.

When I am on a roller coaster, rather than enjoying the wind in my hair, the fun dips and turns, I have the image me flying off the rails because of a rare malfunction. I do not enjoy the ride. Not because it wasn't enjoyable, but because I am so focused on what I don't want to happen that I cannot enjoy what it actually happening.

It is the same with driving. I worry that others won't be as much attention as me and will cause an accident.


A person that allows themselves to be tainted by fear (yes, I said tainted) is also someone who values control. The more control we have, the less we think we have to fear.

This cycle of thinking is very damaging, especially when it comes to our own human relationships. We fear we will be dumped, so we dump them first. We fear we aren't worth being loved, so we don't allow people to love us. We fear our teenagers will make poor choices, so we force ourselves on them.

I see no good that comes from fear.

Yes, I hear you. You're saying, "But Michelle, isn't fear of snakes good? Doesn't fear keep you safe?"

God doesn't intent fear to keep us safe. That is why he gave us our minds: to think, to consider, to decide what is good for us. In verse 7 it says that God gave us a sound mind. He expects us to look at risks and consider them accordingly--and even to pass by certain things (and relationships) because it is clear the risk is too great. But He doesn't expect us to miss out in life because of fear.

The past few years I've really embraced doing things that scare me (playing church basketball), but I need to take it a step further. Beyond just doing things in spite of my fear, I need to enjoy them as well.

Last weekend I attended a Writer's Conference. While I was there, I met with and pitched two of my books to two publishers.

It was scary.

But I did it.

They both bit, and requested to see my work.  After a final push to ensure a quality submission, I put all the information together in two separate emails. . . then pushed 'SEND.'

I was so excited.

Then I got scared.

I then started wondering if I should have checked it just one more time. Then I started worrying I had forgotten something, or sent the wrong thing. Then I began to fret that they wouldn't like it.

This morning, as I checked my email to see if they'd responded yet (even though it takes weeks, even months, for them to reply) I realized what I was doing: I was letting fear ruin reality.

That's when I decided not to be afraid anymore.

Rather than be afraid that I'm not good enough, or that they won't like my work, I am choosing to have faith in myself and in God. I did my best, and if it doesn't work out, I'm sure God has another plan for me.

Faith feels much better than fear.

I am excited for this new freedom from fear. As I change my focus from the negative 'what-ifs' to the positive 'what-is' I know I will open myself up to more happiness and joy, and less stress and worrying.

It is not God's intention for us to live in fear. In fact, His Son, Jesus Christ, tells us to fear not, only believe.

If fear a thief of moments, joy, and possibility, then faith is the liberator.

This doesn't pertain only to things of a spiritual nature (religion, testimony, etc) but to all things in life--even roller coasters and relationships.

So, as of today, this very moment, I choose not to be afraid any more. And it feels good.

Layers

Last year at our church's Harvest Festival there were a variety of games we could play.  One of them was the Mummy Game.  You stand still as your partner runs around you, unwinding a large roll of toilet paper.  You race against another team to see who can unroll the toilet paper first. In the end, you look like a wrapped up mummy (albeit a messy one!)

It was a fun game, and not as easy as it sounds.  (I, personally, enjoyed the eating-a-donut-hanging-off-a-string-with-no-hands one.  I pretty much dominated that one!)

My daughter played the mummy game a number times. One particular time she teamed up with an overzealous partner who speedily unwound three rolls of toilet paper all over her. Nearly every part of her was covered, but her feet.

She stood there, looking like a TP mummy. I wouldn't have recognized her if it weren't for her sparkling prices shoes!

I helped unwind her, layer by layer, until I was able to see and recognize my little girl again.  She said, "Whew, now I'm me again!"

Adopting an older child has had it's blessings, but it has also come with its share of challenges.  There are behaviors and habits that were developed long before she came.  Some are positive, but others are foreign and even detrimental. Some are just down-right frustrating.

But, as I've studied, prayed and pondered about it, I realized that she is playing the Mummy game, although this time it was not of her own choice.

Deep inside is my little girl.  She is strong, sweet, intelligent, patient, loving and kind.  She has amazing potential.  But, covering up much of who she really is are her behaviors.

She is wrapped up in fear and anxiety.  She has layers of sadness and anger.  Since she was young she had partners who ran around her with instability, abuse and neglect. So, now she comes to our home, wrapped in layers; and it's my job to unwind them, layer by layer, until I can see her.

I struggle because sometimes I forget that I am not seeing her, but the layers that she is wrapped up in; when she throws a fit, when tells a lie, when she makes other choices that are contrary to what we teach and practice on our home, I need to remind myself not to just stare at the layers, but to look beyond them.  I remind myself that she is under the layers, and it's my job to get to her.

This concept of layers doesn't only apply to adopted children.  They apply to all.

We are all covered in layers to some degree. Some are wrapped so tightly that it is nearly impossible to see who they really are.  They might even know who they are inside.  Others have only a thin layer; perhaps of insecurity or sadness.  But, we all have layers.

When I see someone acting in a negative way, intentional or not, I have to remind myself that behaviors are  layers.  And when I get frustrated with them, and perhaps even develop feelings of dislike for them, I have to remind myself of a saying I once heard "You cannot love behaviors."

It is difficult look at a person or child who is hurting you or attacking you and think warm fuzzies- because you can't love behaviors.

The key is to look beyond the behaviors, beyond the layers to the person wrapped up inside.  Often they cannot find their way out without help.  And almost always, they want deep down inside to feel like themselves again. Deep down we all want to be happy.

So, when I am offended by an adult, or frustrated by a child, I tell myself they are layers, not them.

Underneath we all want the same thing: to be valued, to be loved, to be needed and to be worthy.  In most cases, the people with the most behavioral issues are the ones with the most layers.  They are the ones that want to be freed the most, even if they don't know it.

I know I have my layers.  Sometimes I will say or do something contrary to who I feel I am because I am acting out of insecurity, anger or selfishness.  That isn't easy to admit, but it's true.  And, I would hope that those around me would try to look beyond my layers, too.  That they would try to see me, my righteous desires, and my potential.  And I would hope that they would love me for me, not judge me because of my layers, but see through them.

I love my daughter.  She is a challenge, with many layers.  It will probably be a life-long endeavor to unwrap them, but she is worth it.



PS- For those of you who were wondering, there is the matter of accountability we all have to unwrap our own layers.  Regardless of what has happened to us, we are accountable for how we act and what we do. This post in no way is dismissing personal accountability. (That's a whole different post!)  It is simply a visual that helps me get past the choices that some people make and see them for who they are.  It makes it easier to love them, not their behaviors. 

Does This Dress Make Me Look Fat?

"Does This Dress Make Me Look Fat?" The question dreaded by men (and best friends) the world over.  Especially if asked by a woman with extra layers such as I.  We women ask that question with no real interest in the truth - we know we do look fat.  We just want to make sure that the people we surround ourselves with are in an equal state of denial as we are.  We want to make sure they have our backs, so to speak. We need validation (that awful  V-word.) So, we ask them the loaded question and wait for the predictable - albeit expected - answer, "No, of course not." And we feel better - or do we?

I never do for two reasons.  First - I know I am not thin.  Second - I know they are lying (or stretching the truth, like the dress stretches across my hips) just to be nice.  I don't believe them.  And that makes me sad, too.

I asked my dad once if he though I was fat.  I was about 17 years old.  It was spring time, approaching summer.  I needed some validation.  He looked at me with loving eyes, and after a long pause said, "Well, you don't have what I would call a "bikini body", but you are not fat."  At first I was crushed.  I went up to my room in disbelief.  How could he say that!  Even at that young age I was somehow inherently aware of the "fat-question" rule.  He completely violated it by being.......honest!   I'll admit, I was hurt.  But, what I found was the validation of my physical appearance that I desired was replaced by something far more important- honesty.  I learned that day that I could ask my dad anything - anything- and he would tell me the truth.  Even if it hurt my feelings.

Because I knew this about my dad, I found that I was afraid to ask him certain questions for fear that my insecurities or fears might be valid (was I smart, was a special, etc.)  I sometimes wished he wasn't so honest.  On the other, sweeter, hand, when my dad said kind things to me and about me (which he did often) I found that I actually believed him.  I knew he did not have ulterior motives.  I knew he did not lie.  So, when he told me I was special, I believed him.  When he told me I was beautiful, I believed him.  When he told me I was amazing, I believed him.  When he told me I would be alright, I believed him. I believed him because he did not lie.  Because my dad loved me, and was honest with me, as a young woman (and even now) he gave me the gift of confidence in and a love for myself.  I love him and trust him - and will be forever grateful to him for that.

I was reading in the Book of Mormon this morning.  I was reading a story of a young missionary who went off to preach the gospel to his enemies.  They hated him, and their people were often at war with one another.  This young man, Ammon, fasted and prayed for strength, comfort and direction.  I read "And it came to pass that the Lord did visit them with his Spirit, and said unto them: Be comforted. And they were comforted."  What a sweet answer from a loving God.  But- what struck me was this young man, and those who were to accompany him, stood in the face of danger and the unknown received an answer from the Lord and believed him.  No doubts, no questions, no second-guessing or giving into the fear of possible destruction.  The Lord spoke and they believed.  He told told to be comforted, and they were.

He may not give us the answers we want.  We may ask, "Does this sin make me look unworthy?" hoping for a polite, "Oh- no!  You look just fine!" and rather get the honest (but loving and divine) answer, "Yes. You need to repent and change."  The Adversary would have you second guess God.  Sometimes logic itself might cause you to question Him.  But, remember this: No matter what you ask Heavenly Father, He will tell you the truth. He does not lie. He will never steer you wrong.

When He tells you He loves you, it must be true. When He tells you that you are special - even  amazing - believe it.  When He tells you things will be hard, and life is tough -  but you will be OK,  believe Him.  When He tells you He has a plan for you, believe Him.

He tells you the truth because He loves you.  He tells you the truth because He knows the truth will bring you the greatest joy.  He tells you the truth because that is the way back to Him.

I am grateful to Heavenly Father for showing me the truth.  I am grateful to my earthly father for telling me telling me the truth.  And................I am (truthfully) thankful for my husband who knows precisely when to omit the truth ("No, that dress doesn't makes you look - oh, is that chocolate over there?")