Go Ahead. Reject Me...I'm OK with it.

I'll be honest, I have never liked rejection. It sucks. One of the things I'm working on is not taking rejection personally. It's hard! 

I spoke at a wonderful conference for women and young women this past weekend. One of the principles I taught them was the the opinions of others are just that--their opinions. Opinions are not truth. 

Rejection is often coupled with a palm to the face, or insults, or words like "It's not you, it's me." I can handle other people having negative opinions about me, but when it comes to the next layer of rejection, that's where I struggle.

I experience a wave of rejection just a few weeks ago. The first was an email I received from a blogger that was supposed to review my book back in January. I emailed to inquire if she had read the book and was planning on putting up a review. She said, "I've never gotten through it. What I've read is good but I seem to read a chapter then forget about it."

Ouch. Not even a typical female attempt to soften the blow. 

The next day I received word that a speaking group I had hoped to become a part of decided I wasn't "a good fit" for them. 

Ouch again.

Then, two days later, I was told by a publisher that one of my book ideas was "gimmicky," that they weren't interested in it, and that it would be damaging to my 'brand' to publish it.

Ouch. Ouch. Ouch.

I tried to remember the truth that rejection is more about the person (or people, in my case) rejecting than the person being rejected. But, I didn't do a very good job. I cried for a few minutes. (Ok, days, but who's counting?)

I focused on the trifecta of rejection until I began to take their opinions as truths. Maybe I wasn't a good writer or speaker. Maybe I was just a gimmick. The more I thought about it and chewed on it, the more miserable I became.  I mean, what if they were right? 

Then I wondered if the friend from the past that called me in January was right. She called, out of the blue, angry. She said she was reading my book, and didn't like it. She then proceeded to tell me I was a terrible person and need therapy. How could I write a book like this because I was such an awful person? She said she'd finish reading my book, but she wouldn't enjoy it. I told her I loved her and I would love to talk with her more about why she felt that way, but she said she wasn't interested. She hung up and unfriended me on FB.

Then, maybe the relative that told me the only reason they spend time with me is because they have to was right. We are too different and they just don't 'get' me.

Then, maybe Tim French from middle school was right when he spit in my face and told me I was gross.

The weight of rejection laid heavily on my heart. The more I though about it, the more I wondered if they were all right. Just maybe.

Then, two wonderful things happened. 

A few days after I became a pinata of rejection, I talked with my husband about the string, and sting, of rejections. I said, "You know, I feel like I'm trying to do good things and and be a good person, and the very ones that are supposed to be the biggest supporters, the ones who should 'get' it, are not only rejecting me, but being not very kind about it. It hurts."

His response was unexpected and profound. He said, "It sounds very similar to someone else you know and love." It took only a moment for me to understand he meant Jesus Christ. Not that he or I were comparing myself or what I am doing to Him, but my husband's point was this: 

Sometimes we focus on how much our Savior understands us--and He does. He has felt every emotion, every sorrow, every pain, every joy, every thing we have felt He has felt. He was perfect love and empathy for us. But, how often to do we focus on understanding how He felt, empathize with Him? 

In that moment I understood just a sliver of what He must have felt. He was rejected, not just by His enemies, by the very people that should have been His greatest supporters. Family, friends, church members and leaders. 

As I let this epiphany sink in, the reality of what my Savior went through became more real. He became more real. He was rejected. He hurt. I was rejected. I hurt. I knew that He understood me, but I felt that I had begun to understand Him just a little more.

Jesus Christ was perfect and rejected. His rejection was a direct reflection of others, not Him. I am totally imperfect and rejected. My rejection is a direct reflection of others, not me. Suddenly my rejection became a source of understanding and a spring-board to a stronger relationship with my Savior.

I felt closer to Him, but there were still some lingering doubts. The Savior is perfect. I'm not. What if they were right...even just by a hair?

Then came the second wonderful thing. A few days later I was scheduled to speak to a group of women about the power of doing and becoming. As I spoke the clouds of doubt left and I was lifted and filled once again. It wasn't from the women who came up afterwards and shared their stories with me (though I loved talking to every one of them!), but it was the feeling I had as I taught them.

When truth is taught, God confirms it by the power of the Spirit. If we are listening for it (and sometimes when we are not), we can hear and feel His validation of the things we are being taught or teaching. That morning I spoke about doubt and fear, and having faith in yourself. As I started to speak I felt like an empty well, but as I spoke, God seemed to fill me up with the confirmation that the things I was sharing were indeed true for them, and again true for me.

I say again because I've struggled with rejection in the past and He has helped me feel better--helped me to see once again see myself through His eyes. Not the eyes of the people who don't 'get' me, don't want me, and simply don't like me or what I have to offer, but how He sees me-how I really am. He made me feel good. He's done it in the past, and He's done it once again just last week.

When it comes right down to it, God knows me better than an old friend, a publisher, a speakers group, a blogger. Though they may even have valid points, it doesn't change my worth in God's eyes. It was a difficult, but sweet, reminder to me once again how important it is that we seek His perspective in our lives. I also felt His love for me, and it sweeter than anything I've ever tasted. Even Tollhouse chocolate chip cookie pie. It's that really good.

He also knows you and your worth. If rejection ever has or will come knocking at your door (or email, or phone), I hope you turn to Him. It's easy to get lost in the world of opinions, but He knows more about you that even you do, and His opinion is more important--and more true--than anyone else's.

To me, that's the power of perspective--it can not only help you see the good things in your life, but take the sting out of the negative things. Perspective also gives you the power to direct your eyes, your happiness, and ultimately, your power to where it needs to be--in God and in yourself. 

I gave my power over to others for a few days, but I took it back. I don't dwell on the opinions of others. God knows who I am. I know who I am. So, go ahead. Reject me. I'm OK with it. 

The Blows of Life

About twice a year my pantry gets a really good cleaning. I reorganize, consolidate, and eat (all part of the

 job) until it looks perfect.


Somehow I found three bags of opened flour. I decided to fit them all into a Christmas tin, but soon found out there was more flour than tin.

My first thought was so scoop off the extra flour and bake some cookies, but I thought it best to stick with the task at hand. So I set out to find a way to make the flour fit.

Then I remembered an old trick I was taught some time ago. I patted the sides of the canister. With each pat the flour inside settled a more. I beat the poor Christmas tin for a good five minutes until it all fit.

I sat back and admired my strong work when the realization of a spiritual correlation hit me: The blows of life are what it takes to settle us in faith.

In Colossians 1:23 Paul encourages us to "continue in faith, grounded and settled" in the hope of the gospel. 

Paul took more than his fair share of life's beatings--much of which were very literal. He survived stonings, beatings, ship wrecks, snack bites, isolation, prison, just to name a few. And yet, he understood that it is the blows which we receive in life that strengthen our faith, that settles us in our faith.

1 Peter 5 great advice is given to the flock of God. Among the list is to humble yourself, cast your cares upon Him, be sober and be vigilant because the adversary seeks to devour you (scary, but so true!). 

In verse 10 it says, "But the God of all grace, who hath called us unto His eternal glory by Jesus Christ, after that ye have suffered for a while, make you perfect, stablish, strengthen, settle you."

The first part of this verse that struck me was after ye have suffered for a while. Life can be really difficult. We can feel like we are getting beaten on all sides. Sometimes we feel sore and bruised, hurt and tired. And we wonder why God let's it happen to us. But, here's where the last, and most important part, comes in: it is the way the He makes you perfect  and how He settles you.

 If we come to Him, He will not only consecrate our afflictions for good, but He will make us perfect through them!

I love when I can fine purpose in my pain! No one likes to hurt! But, when we take a step back and realize that the blows of life can have an eternal positive effect on us, it begins to make sense. We find a way, with God's help, to take the blows and turn to Him. 

We are like little imperfect mortals tins that, if left alone, are unable to accept and hold all that He has for us. But, we with every trial we face and endure, more of Him is settled in us. Through adversity--or more accurately, our responses in that adversity--we become more than we could on our own. We can do more, be more, hold more than if we had lived a life free from affliction and pain.

He gives purpose to the blows of life, and turns them from negative trials into what they should be: the way to settle our faith in Him, and in ourselves.

The Ride of Life

A few weeks ago I headed out to my local trail for a nice 8 mile bike ride. I had been logging in the double digits before, so I figured 8 small miles wouldn't be a big deal.

It was a beautiful late summer afternoon. The weather was perfect, the scenery gorgeous, and one of my favorite songs, 'Sailing Away' by Styx, was blasting in my ears. I felt good, really good.

A few miles into my ride I started getting a big tired. That's when I came upon this in the middle of the trail. written by a chalk angel:

I couldn't help but smile and agree. Yeah, I totally got this!

I began to pedal faster and pushed myself, renewed and refueled by the chalked encouragement. Then I got tired again. It was as though my chalk angel knew what I needed to hear, because as I slowed down, and even considered stopping to take a break, I came across this:

I restarted my 'Sail Away' song and continued strong up the path. I looked down at my speedometer and realized I was riding at my fastest pace ever. The power of words and encouragement!

I didn't see another message from my chalk angel for a few miles, but continued to ride hard. So hard that I lost track of where I was, until I saw this:

Yes! The toughest part of the ride was almost over, and I was about the glide down a large hill--my favorite part of the ride! Then, a half mile from the end of the trail, my chalk angel left me one last message:

 And finish strong I did!


As I drove home my body tingled with the after-work out buzz, but my mind was still on the trail, and life.

Life can seem like a long bike ride. There are uphill climbs and downhill glides, tough corners to turn and straightaways to where we can enjoy the scenery. We have families to raise, church and community responsibilities to take care of, work and all the other things that come with life.


But God is always there, supporting us and cheering us on. Most times, however, He helps us through other people. And most times, the other people have no idea they are helping us. He uses us to help each other--and many times we aren't even aware of it. I'm sure the person who wrote those things on the trail had now idea I'd be biking that day, but the words impacted me nonetheless.

I often to refer to Him as the Great Orchestrator for that very reason. I believe that He is very aware of us, our want, and especially our needs, and is s constantly working on our behalf, coordinating and orchestrating people and opportunities and experiences for us


I believe He puts people and things in our paths to help us along, to offer strength, encouragement, support, guidance, and fun.


We are all here having the ride of our lives. How comforting it is to know that we are not alone, that He is helping us-through each other- to make it through. :)

My Emancipation Proclamation Revisited

As I was reviewing old posts, I came across this one, called My Emancipation Proclamation. 

It was written two years ago during a time when I was really struggling. It is poorly written and raw (apparently my spelling and grammar take a back seat to sentiment when I'm feeling emotional.) And it is very real.

A lot has changed in two years. Though I have moments where I don't feel the greatest about myself (like today when a crown fell out of my mouth while snacking on a rice-crispy treat. So not feeling beautiful then!) On the whole, I feel good about who I am. In fact, I like who I am. And it's not because I look a certain way (in fact, I'm heavier and wrinklier than I was when I wrote the post). It's because I look myself through God's eyes now-- not the worlds, and not even mine.

My concern is that I please God. And that makes me feel beautiful.

But, for those times of weakness and doubt (because they still come), when I struggle to find my inner and outer beauty, this Emancipation Proclamation rings true.

---------------------------------------------

2011

I am apprehensive as I write.  There is a part of me that feels that I am the only one that struggles with this.  I must be, because everyone else looks so lovely, so happy, so sure of themselves. And yet, I know that there are others.  I have talked with them. They have told me they feel the same way.  But, in spite of shared secrets and fears, there still is a voice that tells me it is only me.

I am talking about feeling insecure. I want so badly to say that I am completely happy with who I am all the time, but it is a struggle.  Especially lately.

There is someone that I compare myself to.  Most of the time it is a subconscious haunting. It crops up when I walk by a full-length mirror, or stand next to someone that reminds me of her. I begin to look at myself, not for who I am, but for how much I am not like her.  I am not as thin as her, or as confident as her, or as eloquent as her.  I am not as good of a mother as her, nor am I as smart or beautiful as her.  I cannot cook as well as she can, and her house is always clean. There are times when I don't feel I am good enough- because I think I am not as good as her.

She is you. It is of no fault of your own.  You just have so many qualities that I wish I possess.  It becomes a problem with I begin to think I am not as good in whole, because I am not like you.

I give myself kudos for admitting that.  It takes courage to admit that I compare myself to you and other women. I like courage. It's cool.   I don't like insecurities.  And yet, I have them. I typically feel very grounded and happy, but lately the doubts and insecurities are cropping up more frequently. Not cool.

I have thought a lot about the genesis of these feelings, trying to figure them all out.  Here's what I've come up with.

1. I've been a little emotional lately. I am a woman.  Women are emotional creatures with high self-expectations and a desperate (albeit sometimes hidden) need to be needed, desired, and loved. When we (I) feel unattractive outside and/or inside, we  (I) doubt that we (I) are worthy to be loved, desired, and needed.  Granted, this is a blanket statement that may not apply to every single woman- but for the other 99% of us (me), I think it applies.

2. Lately I have lost  view of the correct definition of beauty. We are seeds of Deity- daughters of God- and because so, we have an innate drive to progress, to improve, to get better.  That is a good thing.  This good thing, though,  becomes distorted when we look someone beyond God in Heaven as the yardstick for our progress, our success and our beauty.  The media is a terrible God to worship and follow.  It tells us that if we are not a size 2 we are fat.  If we do not have perfect skin, we are ugly.  It tell us that if we do not dress fashionable (again- fashion according to the Media God) than we are frumpy and out of style.  It tells us constantly that we are not good enough.

The Media God tells us our chest is too small, our thighs are too big, our hair is the wrong color, and our face is too saggy. And we listen. Sometimes I listen.

The messages creep into our minds and breed self-doubt and unhappiness. We look at other followers of the Media God and compare ourselves to them, even try to keep up with them.  So we get cosmetic surgery, color our hair, take diet pills, get botox, have fake tans, and get fake nails--all the while denying the Media God's influence in our lives. We say it's not about comparing,  that we 'just want to feel good about ourselves.' But, that is not completely true.

So, I look at the celebrities in the magazine, then to myself - not the same.  I look at women around me, friends, then to myself- not the same.  I see so many beautiful and talented people, and I see me and all my weaknesses, and I allow myself to feel less.

This is not a new dilemma for us women (and men.) In the Middle Ages, women would concoct toxic treatments to remove all facial hair- eyebrows, lashes and even hairlines- all for the sake of their definition of beauty.  In 100 B.C. Greco-Romans women would bleach their hair using carbonized beechwood and goat fat. Women of the Han Dynasty in China would ingest a powder three times a day whiten their complexion. In 2,500 B.C. Egyptians applied a mixture of kohl and animal fat around their eyes as eye-liner. In 300 A.D. Japanese Women would lacquer their teeth black with iron filings. In Elizabethan times, women would painstakingly pluck their hairline back to make their foreheads appear larger.

Culture dictates what is beautiful and we conform. It has, and always will.  It is how the world works. But, we know that we are not of the world.  We have a divine lineage that did not begin, nor does it end, in this life. But, we allow ourselves to become immersed in it as it dictates who we should be, who we should follow, and what we need to be happy.  We all get caught up in it to one degree or another.  It is nearly inescapable.

So, the golden question is: How do we find the balance between feeling beautiful and secure in who we are - not comparing ourselves to others (or what we looked like in high school), all while staying beautiful according to God?

The answer.......... I don't know.  I don't know the formula for amazing self-esteem, impervious to outside influences and inside perception.  Otherwise, I wouldn't be feeling this way! But, what I do know is that I am done feeling this way.

So today I decided to make a stand. This is my personal Emancipation Proclamation (EP). Join in if you'd like:

I, (insert your name here),  hereby free myself from unrealistic expectations and guilt.  

I decree that I will love my muffin-top, embrace my stretch marks, laugh-lines, old clothes, and frizzy hair.  

I free myself from the oppression of comparison.

On this day, I declare myself free from pressure to be "perfect."

Today, I give myself the right to see me as He does - and agree.

I will hereforthwith recognize and find joy in my God-given talents and strengths without apology or dismissiveness.

I do not stand with the world and judge myself.

Today, I choose to stand with God and tell the world (Media Gods) to take a hike. 

Today, I love myself.

Today I am free.

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And Here We Are

Have you ever watched a show or read a book where a group of people travel together, and upon arriving at the destination, someone says, "And here we are."

Well, here we are.

Isn't it interesting how you, the reader, and I, the writer, have travels different paths, only to have our lives intersect at this one point in time: you reading something I wrote.

Do you ever wonder if there is chance, or if everything happens for a purpose?

I'd like to think there is no such thing as chance. I wrote this for a reason. And you are reading this for a reason.

If you and I were to meet only time in our lives, and this was that time, what would I want to share with you...

And here it is:

God knows who you are. He loves you. He is aware of you. And He is there for you.