Tag: judgment

reality

Smile!

jem

The number of times I have heard people say this to me is mind-numbing.

I have wished to be the type of person who smiles easily.

I’m just not.

I walked away, and turned my back on past traumas.

I have bravely confronted the causes of painful wounds that were caused by the sharp cutting of things outside of my control.

I have embraced the peace, love and joy I receive continuously from God.

None of this frees me to walk as though I am care-free, though.

Just because God has given and I have embraced joy– that does not translate to smile.

Joy does not equal happy.

Not in my book, anyway.

Joy brings tears to my eyes.

Joy brings peace to my soul.

Joy reminds me that Jesus identifies with me, He has felt my pain.

Joy does not equal smile.

Yes Jesus died for my sins, and my soul rejoices with singing and thankfulness.

But the traumas I have endured and pushed through– surrendering myself over and over again to God for His healing– they still happened.

Smile to me says “Pretend they never happened. Fake happy until you convince yourself you are happy.”

I have never once read in my Bible any commandment telling me to be happy.

I have, however, read that I am to be content in all things, patient and kind, generous and forgiving…

Not happy.

I finally figured out– the reason people throughout my life have told me to “Smile!” is because it makes them feel more comfortable.

My reasons for being unable to smile aren’t considered, just how much better others feel around me as long as I just smile.

When I hear how or see how others have been encouraged, embraced and supported in healthy ways by other family members– my soul feels a painful heaviness.

When I am honest and remember the struggles in my life now, and how the ones all throughout my life add to the weight of these newer ones– I am not able to smile.

A smile says everything is ok.

Well– it’s really not. Everything is not ok.

Does that mean I never laugh or smile at things?

It does not.

My “resting” face is not smiling.

My true friends know this, know me and my “why’s”, and accept this about me.

I’m not going to pretend.

Maybe God will grant me some amount of light-hearted times where smiling is not painful.

No matter what though, I know– I will smile all the time in Heaven. ✝️

reality, Strong Woman

Mess— What You See Is Not What You Get

jem

I’m not what anyone would call a “put together” person.

Hot mess doesn’t even define me— just mess.

Messy.

Messed-up…

No matter how much I fight this exhausting battle of imperfection— in me and in my living space— I have yet to conquer this.

Not dirty.

Cluttered.

My space is too small for all I have.

Don’t get me started on “downsizing”.

And please don’t offer me suggestions or advice.

Just

Don’t.

I have always been sensitive about this issue.

Ashamed.

Frustrated.

Rejected.

Talked about…

Today I choose to embrace the facts.

I’m not like everyone else.

I’m not like anyone else.

I never will be.

Talking with my husband last night, he reminded me—

I have had a lot of experiences.

Experiences no one else has.

Things that— literally— nearly killed me.

Physical, emotional, mental

Traumas.

I am done apologizing for what so many see with their eyes and their opinions— as wrong with me.

I do what I can.

I face mind-numbing overwhelm.

I have stared that down many times.

Sometimes it wins.

Lately though— I win.

So my house has “stuff”.

There are reasons that will never matter to my critics.

They don’t care about my “why’s”

They just care about their preferred ways— how things “should” be.

I have struggled with being lost in a sea of opinions by sight or “first impressions”.

Very few people have taken the time look past, ignore, or focus on person me.

I am not my house.

I am not just a mess.

I am a survivor.

I am a fighter.

I am thriving in increasing health as my body heals from the inside out.

I am many testimonies of God saving, protecting, healing, repairing, changing—

I am the me that God has created.

If you only know me by the imperfect nature of appearance and/or my house—

You have completely missed it— missed me.

That really is your loss.

Walking With God

Self Sabotage

jem

Lately I have become aware of an enemy in my camp, so to speak.

I’d love to be able to point my finger, along with my focused outrage and frustration, at someone.

But, if I were to point any fingers at anyone at all— all of them would point at me.

I’m not sure why I work tirelessly to undermine myself or my confidence with myself, and others, in me.

Maybe it’s because I don’t believe I deserve it.

Maybe it’s because there are still old “tapes” running in the background of my thoughts— “You don’t deserve this.” “You are worthless.” “You don’t know what you are talking about.” “You are too emotional.” “Who do you think you’re fooling, anyway?”

Things I’ve heard others say to me, about me, over my life.

Things I’ve internalized, because certainly those people know me better than I know myself. Right?

I’ve put my confidence in how others see me, or how I think others see me— because I know I have blind spots. I can’t always see many things about me.

I have based so many things off of what it looks like other people’s reactions to me are.

I have plenty of things that are against me as I face the world, daily.

Overweight. Most people don’t even know I’ve lost a lot of weight. I still have a way to go before I’m satisfied with the outer me.

Physically I’m weak. I used to be strong. I used to be independent.

I used to value those things in myself, and even expected them from others.

God has allowed me to now be in a type of place filled with humility and self- disappointment. And— I’m sure that disappointment is universal.

I can’t do many things I used to be able to do.

So, the things I feel strongest in, I’m not confident in my ability to do them. I’m not confident I won’t just provoke further negative reactions to me.

Many years ago someone advised me that when I’m ministering to someone— praying for them, participating with praise and worship, speaking or teaching— don’t pay attention to people’s faces. Because you can’t tell what is happening inside their hearts. They can have a “look” on their faces or react/respond for an infinite amount of reasons. That can become a stumbling block for allowing God to just work through us.

As a violinist, that goes completely against my nature and teaching! I was taught to watch the conductor. Watch for the signals, the eye contact, the head nods, even verbal cues. While I wasn’t watching the crowds/audience per se, their reactions were always telling! Either they liked it, or they did not.

I just pay way more attention to those things, plus body language, than I probably should.

Because of words said to me, and reactions from people important to me over my life— I rarely trust when words don’t seem to match the rest of what I instinctively observe.

It gets confusing, trying to live up to expectations from signals and reactions others appear to have towards me.

Maybe that’s why I self-sabotage.

Who really expects I’ll ever amount to, or accomplish much of anything?

I mean— I’m too intense. I need to calm down. I’ve even been told someone wished I hadn’t been born… I’m just in the way. I talk too much. What I want to do, or how I feel is just stupid or embarrassing…

I guess I’ve just unconsciously believed all of that. Even though, consciously I know it’s mostly not true or accurate.

I feel like I need to measure up to the expectations of others— and those unconscious thoughts have, in my past, been the expectations of others.

So— I self-sabotage.

Maybe that’s why I strive so much to always encourage others. I’ll be their cheerleader, because I have confidence in them. All of us need encouragers. I have them in my life now, I purposely surround myself with people who build up and encourage.

This world has too many ways we are constantly torn down. As Christians I believe God wants us to be builders— not destroyers.

Scripture has taught me that I need to place my confidence in Christ.

God made me with a purpose— His purpose for me.

Those things that have been said, those negative reactions to me, those expectations from others— they don’t match His view of me.

And— who knows me better than God?

What life has taught me

God’s Will?? I Think Not!

jem

Apparently there is this school of thought, some believe supported by Scripture, that being the unfortunate victim of abuse is “God’s Will”.

Obviously they don’t understand how wrong of a conclusion they have come to. Nor do they get the depth abuse reaches into the spirit, the soul and the foundation of someone deeply traumatized by abuse.

Never once was I drawn to God because of a comparison between my earthly abuser and my Creator.

Never.

No, it was not God’s Will for my dad to psychologically abuse me! I am, to this very day, still dealing with the affects of him telling me he hated me and wished I’d never been born, coupled with how I was just always in the way.

No, it was not God’s Will for my dad to physically, sexually abuse me. I despise what he did, so much, I developed eating disorders to try to purge it out of my system! He violated my trust, my innocence— my body!

No, it was not God’s Will to witness his guinea-pigged drugged-up confused mindset that had him convinced he was like God, and loved my mom so much he had to kill her— tried to kill her.

No.

My God does not Will sin’s ugliness into anyone’s life.

God does not willfully direct sin to deeply traumatize people.

God allows many things, but He does not Will them to happen.

I have never had a healthy relationship with my dad, or any kind of redeeming father-like relationship with anyone.

In my life I have felt a desperate need for someone to accept me and just be part of my life as a mom, dad or sibling type.

That hasn’t been something anyone has been willing to do.

That has been what has driven me closer to God.

Not the abuse, not a comparison.

The lack of those relationships.

I have given up on anyone within the church stepping into that kind of role in my life.

I have never given up knowing God will fill that lack with His love, His acceptance, His delight in me.

His Character is defined all throughout Scripture. And, while He has directed harsh judgement against some by directing those obedient to Him to carry out that judgement in Old Testament times—

Never once do I see Him telling a father to molest his daughter.

Never once do I see Him telling a father to tell his children how much he hates them and wishes God never created them.

Never once.

Reality Check, Strong Woman

Managed

jem

My eyes are opening.

At least, they are trying to open.

They’ve started to open before, but then I shut them. Again.

Everything on the surface looks fine, looks good even.

But then something happens, and they start to open again.

In the past, just as they are beginning to focus, to recognize…

I am lulled back to sleep.

This time, I’m staying awake. I’m rubbing my blurry eyes so I can focus more clearly.

I’m making out a shape with some color..

I see…

I see control.

I am recognizing when I make any kind of decision without it being discussed and approved, I provoke the frustration and anger that guard control.

When I start to walk in my own decision making, and I begin to feel like my “old” self again, it creates an unbalance in the control system.

As soon as I begin to relax, to just enjoy, being refreshed and confident naturally— the beast begins to wake up, cranky from lack of control.

I see it now. Clearly. With eyes that are awake.

I recognize it.

I see the prison it has created.

It’s not unpleasant.

I’m not unprovided for.

But I’m not free.

My confidence is challenged.

I’m not encouraged to be at my best.

In fact, I recognize I am actually encouraged to not be my best.

I am often alone.

I am often drained of “will” power, exhausted, by reactions.

This is my own doing, for allowing this to overcome me.

The things that energize me are discouraged— subtly, yet effectively.

Being able to just relax and be myself is subverted by the lag of distraction, and the oh so subtle injection of unresponsive disapproval .

A hesitancy to respond.

An obvious attempt to squelch anticipation or even excitement.

Like a bug being squished as it’s headed in a specific direction with an intended purpose.

That’s my ability to make plans without lengthy discussion, or simply do something spontaneously and un-dissected.

My abilities are bogged down by lack of attention or acknowledgement.

My accomplishments are overlooked, or even torn down.

I have taken the path with the least friction, and just laid everything down— because— what’s the point?

But now I have my focus on it.

I see it.

The beast of control will be challenged, openly.

I want my “me” back.

I want my confidence back.

I want all of the appreciation, encouragement, and full support I’ve poured in to now be reciprocated.

I’m not ok with being managed.

Not anymore.

Ephesians 5:13-14 “But all things become visible when they are exposed by the light, for everything that becomes visible is light. For this reason it says, “Awake, sleeper, And arise from the dead, And Christ will shine on you.”

Reality Check, Strong Woman

MIA— Compassion and Respect

jem
I, (NAME), do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; and that I will obey the orders of the President of the United States and the orders of the officers appointed over me, according to regulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice. So help me God.

I am an Air Force Veteran. I am a woman. These two things should not be opposite sides of the time-in-voluntary-service, but unfortunately they are.

There are so many variants that shaped my personal military adventure. No two experiences are alike, but if I were standing next to my also Veteran, retired, husband— he is the one attention would shift to in interest.

I know this, because I have experienced this 99% of the time. We both can mention our enlistments, and mine is treated like it’s no biggie, but my husband— “Really! Thank you for your service!” with maybe a nod in my direction.

It’s like people don’t know how to process my being a woman in the military.

The military began “shaping” me to live in a man-shaped perspective, from day one.

I was 15 pounds under the expected weight-lifting limit to apply for a job I really wanted to do. You and I know it wouldn’t have been difficult for me to build up to that limit— I was determined and in shape to do that— but that was not an option. I believe this was an across-the-board decision, but I also believe that could, and maybe should, be changed.

The mindset of the military is always “military needs”, and volunteers are “property”.

The process for making me a military-minded person began by breaking me down, separating me into a group of 49 other women, limiting things like time to shower, privacy, time to eat, getting mail or calls from home, and dictating every moment of everyday.

Don’t get me wrong, it was an amazing experience, and I am proud of myself for success in making it through that.

But, for me— coming from an abusive past, it was also an emotionally difficult experience.

Additionally, it was a lonely experience— but that wasn’t a new thing for me. I have almost never had someone to talk to, or go through things with me.

That brings me to my point in writing this.

The military comes at everything from a man’s perspective. It just does. Sure there are videos, and training once a year to learn about being professional and demonstrating polite courtesy to not offend women, or make them feel threatened.

I think that is kind of a good thing, but it’s also kind of condescending.

It also does not work. I mean, just look at scandals way at the top concerning sexual harassment towards women.

Here is another perspective:

https://m.facebook.com/200999403407041/posts/1838927186280913/?d=n

My personal experiences of working in a man’s career field as a plumber (my 10th flowery-worded choice— Utilities System Specialist), in a man’s-perspective-d world are unique and don’t necessarily reflect or match another woman’s.

I get that.

But, men, and even some high-ranking women, certainly have a long way to go towards mutual respect and fair, rational, understanding and compassionate treatment of women— as individuals that are completely unique and separate from the way men are built.

With all the money poured into “research”, you’d think by now things would have naturally “evolved” from arrogant, chauvinistic, neanderthal-like behavior.

Recently, women have finally been provided with something many have needed all along! It took decades for that to happen! Why?

Because it’s a world based on men’s perspective that women are “allowed” to become part of.

Things are getting better, and yet, the latest response/reaction by civilian men to the mere mention of the newly available maternity flight suit just proves— men have a long way to go.

In the famous words of our current President— “Come on, man!”

You can, and should, do better.

God's Heart

Hello Plank, How’d You Get In My Eye?

jem

I have a view. An opinion. About everything. I have a view about that opinion I have of everything— I’m right. Of course I’m right! Can’t you see that? What do you mean you look at things differently? There’s only one way to see things– my way!

I think if we’re all honest, we’ve fit that description at least at some point in our lives. The one where we measure everything against our own perspective, and toss away everything that doesn’t line up.

When I’m sitting in a movie theater, and a tall person sits in front of me, I adjust so I can look around them to see the screen, or I change seats. When I’m driving somewhere and there is road construction, I find a way around it.

When I have an opinion about something, or a judgement– a plank– I look around the log in my eye instead of directly at it. I don’t recognize it as a log, or an obstacle in my view. I accept it as part of the reality I “see”. I make excuses for it being there– “That’s just the way I am…”

God is doing something in me. It feels kind of weird, I’m seeing people different than I ever have.

Tonight I met unfiltered guy. I saw the speck in his eye. Then God showed me the log in mine.

God’s Word clearly tells us to come to Him as we are. As we are. Not “clean yourself up, behave with societal ‘normal’ behavior– you know– fit in perfectly!” Nope.

Come as you are.

Broken.

Discouraged.

Bitter.

Judgmental.

Hurt.

Offended.

Offensive.

Homeless.

Rich.

Weak.

‘Perfect’.

Intelligent.

Ignorant.

Annoying.

Pleasant.

____________. (fill in the blank)

“Come as you are.”

“Those who are weary will find rest.”

“Those who are hungry will be fed.”

“You who are lost will be found.”

“The hurting will find comfort.”

Come.

As

you are…

If God extends that to everyone, shouldn’t we as well?

God can handle it. With God working through us, so can we.

Reality Check, Strong Woman

The Oppression of Skepticism

jem

I was right.

God has spoken to my spirit a few times about things over the past 25 years, and I continue to find out that I heard Him correctly. Yet– when I try to step out in faith of what I know my Lord and Savior has shared with me, has led me to pray about, or has warned me about, it amazes me how my brothers and sisters in Christ— some near to my own heart– shut me down. They don’t trust me or believe that God would choose to be active in our– in my— relationship with Him.

They don’t want to hear from God– through me.

Well, I’m not letting people hold me back or push me down any longer.

They can live with their skepticism, I choose to step out in the faith of my amazing, loving, kind God Who leads me in all wisdom, Who increases my understanding, Who gives and increases my discernment.

I blame me for trusting in or relying on the opinions of those around me– for allowing myself to be gauged by people I have believed would listen to God’s Spirit for confirmation rather than skepticize– and I repent from that. Their lack of faith in God’s Spirit for confirmation and trust in my ability to discern my Shepherd’s voice is deeply hurtful.

Deeply.

I’m trusting God to guide my steps forward with new confidence because–

I was right.