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.

Opinion Does Not Change Truth

You may have seen the picture that took the internet by storm a few weeks ago:

There is this dress, one dress, people cannot agree on. What color is it??  White and gold? Blue and black?  For a brief moment in the cyberworld, everyone had an opinion and no one could agree. Two people sitting next to each other could look at the same picture and see different colors. How could that be? How could people looking at the same thing have two opposing opinions? 

I wanted to know, too. And I found this really smart answer:

"Our eyes are able to assign fixed colors to objects under widely different lighting condition. This ability is called color constancy. But the photograph doesn't give many clues about the the ambient  light in the room. Is the background bright and the dress in shadow? Or is the whole room bright and all the colors are washed out? Different people may pick up on different visual cues in the image, which can change how (their minds) interpret and name the colors."

 So, we can all be looking at the same thing, but as we interpret the surroundings, it can change the way we see it. That's how so many of us had so many different opinions. Fascinating! But, our interpretation doesn't change the actual color of the dress. (For inquiring minds, the dress was actually blue and black)  Our opinions can't change truth.

I want to switch gears for a moment and talk about God. We live in a world with as many opinions as people: He exists. He doesn't exist. There is no God. His is force and power. He is in everything. He is no where. He is angry and vengeful. He is kind and loving. 

But, just as our differing interpretations and opinions of the color of the dress had no effect on the actual dress, our opinions cannot change reality-- the truth.

God lives. That's not an opinion. That is truth. THE truth. God does not change. He "is the same yesterday, today, and forever, and in him there is no variableness, nether shadow of changing" (Mormon 9:9).

We can fight over principles and principalities, but our opinions will never change the truth. 

God is real. He is a loving Heavenly Father with a plan and a purpose for us.

He is the author of what is right and what is wrong. We can have our opinions of what should be acceptable, what we want to be able to choose and do without negative consequences, but our opinions don't change truth.

Just as we can't change the nature of a tree because we decide it's just a large bush, we can't change the nature to God because we decide our image of Him is right.

There are millions of opinons, but only one truth: God's. How much happier would we be if we put as much energy into finding His truth in all things as we do in trying to prove our opinons are right?

Opinions cannot and will not change truth. But truth can change opinions, and can change us.

Change, Forgiveness, and Freedom - a Very Personal Post

Every single one of us have said or done something in our lives that we are not proud of, something we would take back if we could.

(This post was hard to write. Yes it's long, and very personal, but the message is close to my heart and too important to share. I hope you bear with me and read on.)

People change. I have changed.

None of us are the same as we were yesterday, five years ago, twenty years ago. Every day we change. Sometimes it is imperceptible, other times the change is drastic. But we all change. That will never change.

When I was in my late teens early twenties in many ways I was different than I am now. I was still fun-loving and outgoing, but different. I made different mistakes. Many of my choices were driven by insecurity, immaturity, and selfishness. Perhaps that is pretty typical of one that age. My intents were good for the most part, but there were times when I said or did things then that I would never do now. There are things I wish I could take back.  I wasn't a terrible person, by any means, just different. I've grown a lot. I've repented. I've learned. I've changed.

In my first book, "Does This Insecurity Make Me Look Fat?" I am quite open about some of my struggles of those years and their ramifications. It was a scary book to write. I still have struggles today, which I am equally as open about. That was even scarier to write. But I am able to be honest about all of my struggles due to the very fact that I have changed. I was and am imperfect, but I know Who makes me perfect. I have been forgiven. I have been changed. I know who I am now, and I like me very much.

I am who I am because of my Savior. Through Him I've had the opportunity to change. My Father in Heaven has forgiven me, the Spirit has touched me, and I have changed. That's the beautiful thing about Their perfect forgiveness--I learn, I grow, I change, and when I honestly repent, They remember my sins no more. They forgive and move on. They don't hold my past mistakes over my head. They see me as I am now, love who I am now, and glory in who They know I can be.  When I seek forgiveness, I am free to be me now, and not be held hostage by who I was or what I've done before. Their forgiveness frees me now and allows me the chance to keep on changing for good. It is such an empowering and liberating principal!

Most of us want that deep inside: to be forgiven, to be seen for who we really are and who we can become. Heavenly Father is always ready and willing to offer His forgiveness. The Savior, through His Atonement, has already paid the price for our mistakes. They are just waiting for us.

If only we understood what power forgiveness really holds! Their forgiveness frees us, and yet, do we offer our forgiveness so freely to others? Can we see past who they were to who they are today? Do we withhold forgiveness because we don't feel they deserve it? Can we forgive to free ourselves of grudges or pain, even if the other person isn't sorry? Can we let go of our misgivings and allow those that have hurt us to be forgiven, to move on, to learn, and to change?

Sometimes it takes great courage to forgive people, to let people change, to see them for who they are now rather than who they were before. But, we should try. First of all, it's pretty much a commandment (Matthew 18:22) but also because it frees not only them, but it frees us.

Let me share two very different, very personal, examples of what I mean. 

A few weeks after my book came out I received a call from an old friend of more than twenty years. We used to be very close, and I felt we still were. She was the kind of friend who, though we spoke every few years, I had felt a sisterhood connection with and a love that time hadn't diminished.

When I saw her name flash on the caller ID I excitedly picked up the phone and greeted her.  This was her response: "I am fine thank you. I am reading your book and I am not enjoying it at all." Then she proceeded to tell me I was a terrible person. She said I needed counseling, that I was messed up. She told me that there was no way I could write something like this when after what I had done to her. How could I, in good conscience, write a book about loving God, yourself, and others?

I was dumbfounded. We had emailed back and for just a couple months prior and ne'er a word was said about any issues or events. So, I inquired as to what I could have done to cause her such anger and grief.

There were three things: First, I had said something years ago that wasn't very positive about her to her husband, a then mutual friend, when they had first begun dating. Second, she was upset that she hadn't receive an invitation to my wedding twenty years ago. And third, she was upset that in 2010 she called to tell me she was pregnant. We were about to have family prayer, so I asked if I could call her back and I never did.

Still shocked, I tried to explain myself, firstly, about what I had said years ago. Whether or not it was true, and though my intentions were good at the time I had said it, it was something that should not have been said. I reminded her that this was something we had talked about at length in the past, something I had apologized for twenty years ago, and something she had forgiven me for twenty years ago. Still, I apologized again. I then apologized for her not getting an invitation. My mother had made the list and sent them out. I didn't play a part in that, nor did I pay attention to who was on the list. I simply didn't know she hadn't received one. As for the last one--I didn't ever remember that call. I am sure she did call, I'm sure I was happy for her, I'm sure I told her I'd call her back, and I'm sure I forgot. I'm also sure there was no ill intent. 

My explanations and apologies meant nothing. She was still mad, and had her mind set that I was simply a terrible person. She told her I had tried to ruin her marriage by my comment years ago (which was not true). She also told me she was sure I didn't call her back because I was jealous that she was pregnant again, and I couldn't have any children (I'd had a medically-necessary hysterectomy in 2001.). She said I had always been jealous of her, that I wanted to have her life and to be her, and that's why I didn't call. That last one particularly hurt, and proved that she really didn't know me very well now, or twenty years ago.

What she didn't know was that call came during the time we had just adopted our youngest child. The night-time routine then was long and hard. The transition was difficult for our daughter and for me. I spent many nights crying, wondering if I had the strength to be the kind of mother I needed to be to parent this beautiful, broken child. I wasn't jealous of my friend. I would have been happy for her. I was just struggling, exhausted, and focused on my own family at that time.

But she didn't want to hear that. She did want to hear about my twenty year old apology and her then-forgiveness, or that I had no idea she didn't receive an invitation twenty years ago, or that five years ago I was just keeping my head above water as I was trying to know how to parent my little girl. All she could see was who she thought I was in the past, and was convinced I was the same, that I hadn't changed. 

I spoke softly and calmly while my heart ached. She said she could never be friends with someone who could have done those things to her. She said I was a terrible person who didn't even know who she was now. I posed the idea that perhaps she didn't know me as well as she though she did now, either. I suggested we start anew, that the 'her-now' and the 'me-now' become friends. I told her that I loved her, and I didn't want to lose the friendship I had always valued. She said, "Your cute words sound nice but they don't mean anything, just like the nice words in your book. No thank you. I don't want a person like you in my life. You're toxic. I am going to finish your book however, even though I am not going to enjoy it." I told her I was sorry that she was not open to our friendship. She said she was even going to unfriend me on Facebook, so I shouldn't be surprised. Then she hung up.

It was a call I had no idea was coming. For years she had harbored these feelings. They had festered, tainting her ability to know me now. She was stuck in the past, and in a reality she had created herself. She was held hostage by her unwillingness to understand, to forgive, and let go. She was unwilling to believe I could change and grow after twenty years, and felt that I was undeserving of forgiveness. 

She is wrong.  

Still, I was shocked and hurt. No, I was devastated.  What brought me more sorrow was the fact that she was in more pain than I. She couldn't leave behind her negative feelings, and they festered until she was filled with bitterness and anger. She was in her own prison, and that made me so sad.

Contrast that with this next experience with two other people in my life, a friend and a roommate.

I had made a mistake once and was confronted by a friend in front of other people about it. Feeling ashamed, insecure, and embarrassed, I denied it. Not only did I lie, but I led her to believe that it wasn't me who had done it, that it might have been my roommate. I know, awful, right? That's exactly how I felt at the time. Insecure and awful. After the conversation nothing was ever said about it again by anyone. It just kind of melted away. We went about our lives and, as what happens to many over time, we fell out of touch.

I know it wasn't the right thing to do. I knew then. Though I never talked about it, it was still there, a heavy spot on my heart. So, years ago I spoke with the person I lied to and sought their forgiveness. They were so good and understanding and kind, They forgave me, understood me, and let it go. I felt so grateful, so good. They told me I need to apologize to my old roommate. I told them I would.  Then, as it happens, we lost touch again, and the promise faded into the background of my busy life.

One day, years later, my old roommate popped up in my Facebook news feed when a mutual FB friend commented on a post of hers. Like a rush of heat I remembered my promise. I knew I needed to apologize still, even after all this time. I was surprised and embarrassed I had forgotten the promise, and knew what I had to do. It took a few days to muster up the courage, but late one Sunday afternoon I reached out to her. 

I was so nervous. What if she was still upset? What if she hated me? What if she couldn't forgive me?

After our initial long-time-no-talk pleasantries, I dove into my apology. I told her what happened that day, how I apologized to our friend, and how sorry I was that I purposefully redirected possible blame her way so long ago. Then came silence....followed by laughter from her end; not unkind heckles, but a soft chuckle. She was never aware of what I had done. But that wasn't what made her laugh. She laughed because I still cared enough to apologize after all these years. Not that she thought it was funny, but she couldn't believe how sweet it was that I had still cared enough about it, about her, to apologize now. 

In a loving tone she forgave me, even though she said there was no need for forgiveness. That was a long time ago. We are both different people now. We had both changed. And nothing else needed to be remembered or spoken of again.

We talked for another hour about our lives now, our families, our accomplishments, our testimonies, and our interests. She told me multiple times how it was such a joyful surprise that we had connected again and I agreed. At the end of the call I expressed my gratitude for her understanding, forgiveness, and love. She laughed again and said, "I don't even know what you're talking about. You are wonderful, Michelle."

Do you see the difference? Both incidents were of friends that I had offended long ago. One wasn't willing to see that I had changed. She was unwilling to forgive and see me for who I am now. She was weighed down by anger and pain.

The other freely offered forgiveness and let go. She rejoiced in the fact that I had changed, that we both had changed, and that brought us closer together again. 

One was held hostage. The other offered freedom.

I know, it can be hard to let people change, to forgive. It's hard to acknowledge that someone who hurt you in the past could change and grow. Sometimes it takes a lot of courage to let the past stay in the past, and to live in the now. I know it does.

I had a friend who hurt me a long time ago in a way that could be easily considered unforgivable. I have heard through a mutual friend that he is a loving father and husband now, active in his church, and is happy. He has changed. I could be mad, feel that he doesn't deserve happiness, that he was and always will be a terrible person. But that simply isn't true. I am so glad he has changed. I am grateful he has learned and grown. I am free of ill feelings towards him, and, through the power of my Savior's atonement and a lot of prayer, I see that he is a good man now and I am happy for him. He has changed, but I am free.

When I say we 'let' people change, what I really mean is that we acknowledge they can and have changed;  we 'let' ourselves see them as changed. It's hard to do when we want to hold onto our grudges, when the pain they cause runs deep. But, forgiveness isn't ours to keep to ourselves. The moment we ask God for forgiveness we give up the right (if it ever was one) to keep forgiveness to ourselves. When we ask God to help us learn and grow and change, we acknowledge that that is a gift He gives to all His children who sincerely seeks Him. 

Every single one of us have said or done something in our lives that we are not proud of, something we would take back if we could. Most of us are trying to become better people each day, to improve, learn, grow--to change. If only we could see each other as we really are now, untainted by our past mistakes, what would we see? Who would we see? How would we feel?

Yes, it's hard to let go of our perception of who people used to be, but when we do we free ourselves, and them, to love who they are now and to keep changing (hopefully) for good. It takes courage in some cases, but it is worth it. I am heartbroken by my good friend that refused to believe I could change. I am filled with relief and joy by my sweet friend who offered forgiveness and love for who I am today.

People change. I have changed. And I will strive to continue to change the rest of my life, for that is why I am here--to become better, to become more like my Savior.  I know what it feels like when forgiveness is withheld. I know what it feels like to withhold it. It is painful. I also know what it feels like to be forgiven and to forgive. It is liberating. And that, I think, is something that will never change.

As I was about to publish this post, a thought occurred to me. I've talked about letting others change, accepting who they are now and letting go of the past, but what of ourselves? I'll admit, when I remembered what I had done to my roommate so long ago I felt terrible. How could I have forgotten to reach out and apologize to her? Thoughts began to creep into my mind and the adversary, seeing a crack in my armor, fueled the flames of self-doubt. Questions about my integrity and worthiness whirled in my head, but only for a brief moment. I shared my concern with my good husband, who said, "Michelle, you made a mistake a long time ago. That doesn't mean you were a bad person then, and you are not a bad person now. Go and apologize. Let it out and let it go. Then be the person you know you are now." He was right. For a brief moment I let the past taint my own view of who I am today. Seeking forgiveness and letting go helped me to, once again, accept that I have changed for the better, and fed my desire to continue to do so.

I love the quote by Donald L. Hallstrom, "Who we are is not who we can become." We are meant to change, to progress, to improve. We are meant to be more than we are now. That doesn't mean we aren't good enough now. It's not a matter of being good or worthy of being loved. It's a matter of becoming like our Savior. Regardless of mistakes past and present, we have infinite value and worth. But, through Jesus Christ we have the privilege to progress. He gave His all--literally--so we could. Let's not get in His way, in other's way, in our way, of change.

Sometimes it takes even greater courage to see ourselves and others for who we are now, not a collection of mistakes we've all made in the past (because we have all made mistakes). It can be hard to forgive ourselves and others, to love ourselves and others. But, we must try. We need to try so we can be free. Free to love ourselves fully, free to forgive others--free to be all that we can be. Free to change. Free to forgive and be forgiven. Free to be free.

My New Year's Evolution

I love goal setting. I'm amazing at it. Give me a pen and paper and I can have a color-coded list of goals and resolutions that could make the coldest man weep. Now, keeping them.......that's another story.

I love making New Year's resolutions. I think it's the idea of a fresh start. To me, that's what life--what the Atonement of Jesus Christ-- is all about: fresh starts. We all mess up. Every single one of us. But, hope is found in the principle that we can start anew, try again, that we can be better tomorrow than we were today. It is liberating, leaving and breathing optimism. I love it!

This isn't a debate on whether or not everyone should make New Year's resolutions. I think if we were living right we'd be making new resolutions far more often than once a year. But, since Thursday does mark the beginning of the new year, why not start now?

My friend Joanne shared with me something at church she'd read in an article about New Year's resolutions. Something like this question was asked, "How can I stick to my New Year's goals and not fail?" His answer was an interesting one. He noted that many of our resolutions or goals tend to be huge changes. He advised that rather than focusing on resolutions, that we focus on evolutions. Those would be small, almost imperceptible changes in our routine that, over time, will change us for the better. Rather than focusing on an overhaul of who we are, we focus on evolving who we are. I love that concept! I love the idea of growth and progression, especially when it is pursued in small, manageable steps.

As I've thought about my New Year's resolution list over the past weeks, it was becoming quite long and a bit daunting.  I planned to lose 25 pounds, read the scriptures all the way through in Spanish (no, I don't speak Spanish, but my son is serving a full-time mission for our church and is teaching in the Spanish language. I thought it would make me feel closer to him.) I also wanted to finish and get published the 4 books I'm working on, plus homeschool my youngest, get a part-time job, read my English scriptures an hour a day, exercise an hour a day,and not eat ice cream in 2015 (my most insane goal EVER). And that wasn't the end of my list.

I can tell you right now that I am a comfort eater, and if homeschooling is in my future, ice cream needs to be as well, so there is one failure right off the bat. I can see me failing reaching these goals in so many ways, but I was determined to try.

But now I'm not going to.

I'm not going to make New Year's resolutions this year.  I want to make New Year's Evolutions. I want make those small changes that, in a week or a year, will reap big benefits and changes. When I focus on who I want to be (evolution) rather than the things I want to do (resolutions), I found that my goals had changed.

This is now my New Year's Evolution list:

I want to be more patient, so I will take  two deep breaths when I feel the pang of impatience hit.
I want to have greater self-discipline and be healthier, so I will work on exercising every day and eating smaller portions.
I want to be closer to my Heavenly Father, so I will focus on saying more sincere prayers and finding His truths in the scriptures on a daily basis.
I want to have more gratitude, so I will focus less on the things I don't have and more on the things I do.

My focus isn't on doing what I think I should do, but being who I think I should be. And the magic of that kind of evolution is that by striving to be who I should be, I will, by default, do what I should be doing. It's change from the inside out, not outside in.

That's my goal for 2015, my New Year's Evolution evolution: To be a better me. To be more like Him.

A Good Old-fashioned Pep Talk

In my nearly twenty years of marriage I have learned that I don't want my husband to fix my problems. I am not totally helpless. Sometimes I just want to hear that everything will be okay. Sometimes I just need a little pep talk.

Sometimes life stinks. Or maybe it doesn't, and you just feel like you're lame. Sometimes life throws us a curve ball. We make mistakes, and things are just plain hard. 

Sometimes we just need a good old-fashioned pep talk to get us through. So, for you who might need it (or just want it), this is for you....

You are all right, and everything will be okay.

When we feel our trials are caving in on us, it is hard to feel in control. We try to make sense of everything. We question what is happening and maybe even why. We look at our situation, which is undesirable to say the least, and we wonder how to make it better or how it can be fixed. Will things ever be the same?

Trials hard enough all by themselves, but we can complicate matters when we begin to question ourselves. We question our ability to cope and survive or even if we will survive. We worry that we will fail--that we will fail not only ourselves but also those who need us. We believe we are the sole pillar of strength and that if we fall, everything around us will, too. Questioning and doubting ourselves steal our ability to manage ourselves. We are our own kryptonite.

The adversary would have you believe that you are weak. He is the thief of hope and strength. He knows that when you feel powerless, you will act powerless. He wants to blind you to the fact that even when you are hurting and struggling, you can get up again.

Know this: You are doing better than you think you are. You are stronger than you realize. You will make it through. 

During difficult times, it might be tempting, not only to question yourself but to question God. That is, perhaps, Satan's most favorite weapon. He would have you wonder, If God loves you, why would He let this happen? He would have you doubt that God can hear you. He would have you even doubt there is a God.

But God is real. He does love you. He hears you. He will support and guide you. He has faith in you. He is the One who is ultimately in control. And as you exercise faith in Him, everything will be okay.

I know that life can be challenging. Perhaps, as you read this, you are struggling. You might be doubting yourself or your decisions, You might be wondering if you have the strength to cope. Your faith might be wavering. Your heart might be breaking. You might be confused or tired. You might even be crying. But listen to me and believe what I say:

You are all right, and everything will be okay.

Because it's true. You can have confidence in that.

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.