reality

A Lifetime Of Not Fitting

For as long as I can recall, I’ve known I just don’t belong.

I have almost always felt like I’m outside, looking in.

I’m almost never a pea-in-a-pod.

I’ve had too many unique experiences.

I don’t like to do what most others around me like.

I’m not often content with surface-level interactions.

If I were to make a list of the roles I’ve been assigned by others, it would include:

1) Don’t be seen or heard

2) Exhaust yourself beyond your physical capabilities with volunteering

3) Be a good scape-goat and take the blame for stuff you did not do/say

4) Be available, cheerfully, but don’t bother others when you need anything

5) Be low maintenance

6) Don’t ever have a need

7) Just don’t use the cane you need

8) Just be like everyone else– forget you have physical limitations and limited energy from that immune disorder.

9) Make God heal you 100% already– you obviously are missing or not accepting something…

10) Fit in this “perfect” Christian mold– don’t distinguish yourself, oh– but don’t be too confident in following God’s Spirit

11) Prove you are Saved…

There is only One Who has identified with me–

Jesus.

He didn’t fit in, either.

He was misunderstood.

He was rejected.

He was cast out.

His reputation was trampled on.

Some days I feel the weight of this life’s burdens.

They feel so heavy, it’s a challenge to not feel down-trodden.

Jesus always sustains me.

He never leaves me, never forsakes me.

Though I sometimes feel alone– He is always with me.

When I feel weak, physically, emotionally, mentally– He is my Strength, my Rock– the firm foundation of my narrow path.

People will often misunderstand, discourage or disappoint– Jesus never will.

He and I will always not fit in– together.

reality, Strong Woman

Mess— What You See Is Not What You Get

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

Out Of Adversity A Victor Arises

Have you ever felt like your life was dealt a death blow?

Have you ever felt like you’re down for the count, so to speak, and everything in you screams to just give up, just give in to the pressure on you to stay down— make it stop!

Have you faced situations that made you want to just buckle under emotional stress and declare “Uncle!”

If so, what made you rise up and fight back?

Was it self pride? Tenacity? A hatred for losing?

What motivates you to stare into the tendrils of fear, and defy it’s pressure?

I am a fighter.

I will fight to survive.

I will fight against bad treatment of my children. I will fight for them to attain their dreams, as much as they will allow me to. I will fight for my relationships to be healthy and strong with each one of my children, because God lent them to me, entrusted me with them— and besides loving them, I sincerely like and enjoy each one of them.

Being a fighter is exhausting. It’s overwhelming.

When I’m fighting “battles” on several “fronts”— it takes everything I have in me.

The battle of health, home, relationships— sometimes mentally and emotionally, I am down for the count. Health alone is an enormous fight that most people never see, and nor would they understand.

The battle with my health is a constant undercurrent. Adding other battles to that is something I’ve grown used to, but in all of that, weakness wants to take over.

I’m not weak, though.

I’m actually stronger.

I’m stronger because I have help.

I don’t mean physically strengthened, but an inner resolve.

An unction.

Sometimes I forget that I don’t have to bear it all on my own. I have an inner, and outer strength that’s not my own.

Even when I forget, God remains faithful.

Even though I don’t deserve it— God sustains me.

Scripture has taught me that God works His purpose through people who have done some pretty bad things! Paul murdered people. King David almost killed his father-in-law, and he killed a giant, not to mention making sure a man died because he wanted his wife!

Yet God made sure their stories focused on what He accomplished through these imperfect humans.

While I tend to focus on all of the many, many ways I fall short and negatives that have hurt , God has been writing my story in His history books with Him and His grace at work both in me and through me, as the center focus.

Psalm 121:1-8 “A Song of Ascents. I lift up my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth. He will not let your foot be moved; he who keeps you will not slumber. Behold, he who keeps Israel will neither slumber nor sleep. The Lord is your keeper; the Lord is your shade on your right hand.

Romans 8:28 “And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.”

My inspiration comes from Jesus, Who did not just give up, but fought actual death— and won! He is my example, my inspiration my strength— my Help!

Every battle I struggle with, belongs to Him, and Him alone.

American, An Honest Perspective, God's Heart, The Past, Walking With God, What life has taught me

Exposed

I hate my past.

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I hate the parts of my personal story that involve my past. I don’t like who I was, I don’t like what I lived through. I abhor my reactions and choices. I despise where I had no choice or that I had no one to help me, to comfort me, or just talk with.

Yeah, I hate my past.

Maybe that’s why I haven’t been able to get my book written. I hate reliving it. I hate thinking about it. I hate how when I am in a group of people and I just want to fit into the conversation, I feel compelled to share my experiences so I can identify with others. And I hate how vulnerable and

exposed

I often feel when I tell something deeply personal.

Who really wants to hear about the horror experiences of my childhood and teens, and for what reasons do they want to hear about them?

Who cares? About me?

I loathe feeling like other people think I’m competing in storytelling. I hate how it just feels normal to me that I have gone through so many things, and then I see that look of shock on the face of someone I’ve opened up to- then I realize, my life has been anything but normal.

It’s like a thorn in my side.

The parts I don’t hate about my past are when God shines through, as a warm, magnanimous Light, as if He has given my heart the most loving hug.

Healing me, bringing completeness to my injured, abused soul.

Exposure reveals the miracles and even the heart of God throughout my life.

Hating my past has helped me to love and appreciate God. Living my life, I’ve learned there is no one more trustworthy and faithful than God.