if we're going to worry... let's worry about the right things...
It's strange the things we worry about, isn't it? I've spent many of my years worrying greatly about what others thought about me. Through life and experience, I have somewhat stopped putting so much stock into what others think of me because, let's face it, there's always going to be fans and there's always going to be critics. Although it has been a tough lesson, I've well learned that you can't please everyone. You can't make them like you, either. And going to ridiculous lengths trying never works. I'll never forget advice that my dad gave me in college. I had a friend who was turning more and more into a frenemy every day, and she shared her honest feelings about me via email. I was crushed after reading her message, and I called my dad in tears. He said, "Brittnye, why do you care so much what her opinion is of you? You've known her for a year. Do you think she's going to be a part of your life after college? You need to be more concerned about the opinions of you held by the people who have known you forever, who love you, and who will be a part of your life for the rest of it." That was good advice!
I remember dealing with shame and thinking that I had let everyone down. Everyone. Even people I didn't really know. I remember thinking how disappointed in me my family must have been. They kept telling me that they weren't, but I had a hard time believing that was true. I had a hard time thinking they weren't just saying that to make me feel a little better. Because I was absolutely disappointed in myself. Failure wasn't my game, and I had clearly failed. Big time failed. I worried so much what others were thinking as they heard the news. Were they happy? Did the smugly smile and said, "Ha! Serves her right. She probably deserved it." Were they heartbroken? Did they see me in a different light? And I remember telling my mom that my heart ached over the fact that one day, I was going to have to tell my children this part of my story. That's the beauty of growing up in the age of technology. There are no secrets. It doesn't matter how much you try to cover things up... it can be uncovered. And just imagine what our kids will find in 15 or 20 years. If that doesn't make you think twice about the information you share, it should. Anyway, I told her I dreaded that day when I had to break the news to them. I just knew that my future, hypothetical (at the time) children would be so disgusted with me. That they'd never look at me the same and I'd lose all credibility with them, not to mention their love and acceptance. What would they think about their mother once they knew the entire story and not just the good parts?
Shortly after that, I met a sweet friend who unknowingly told me that her mother had gone through the same thing as a young woman. As I listened to her talk about her mother, I noticed her voice was filled with compassion for her mom. She didn't seem disappointed in her mom, rather, she felt sorrowful thinking about the 20-some-odd year old woman who was dealing with a devastating heartbreak. And as I saw her relationship with her mom play out, I saw how much she loved and adored her mother. In fact, it seemed that she wasn't bothered the least bit by her mother's past. It was just a fact to her. But the woman she knew, the mother that raised her, that was the woman she loved. Not because her mom was perfect and done everything right. She loved her because she was her mother.
Clearly, Sugar Bug will know. Sweet baby can go back and read years and years of my thoughts and feelings if s/he so desires. This child, and the ones to come, will be able to watch my story completely unfold through blog posts, and I'll gladly share the unwritten details. I'm not ashamed. In fact, I'm not even disappointed. I'm grateful. So, so, so grateful. And you know what, you should be, too. You should be so incredibly thankful for what God has done and is doing in your life. You shouldn't hide it. And even if you're pretty certain you have everyone fooled, your children included, think again. Just because we may not admit our weaknesses or imperfections doesn't mean people don't know... can't see... haven't heard. People are surprisingly good at putting the pieces of the puzzle together. And you know what I've learned, for the few people who are going to think negatively about you, there are so many more that will think highly of you. They'll appreciate your honesty, your vulnerability, your authenticity. Why, you ask? Because your story is their story. You're speaking hope and encouragement to them, and more than that, you're pointing them to the source of all of our hope. The one who writes incredibly beautiful stories of redemption. Who loves and accepts us regardless of our failures and mistakes. The God who will bring purpose from all things and use it for the good of those who love Him if will just let Him. Your story is not a mistake. It's not a waste. It's not a disaster. It's another page, another chapter, another plot line in a greater story that, guess what, really isn't about you.
There is freedom in sharing. I know it sounds ironic, but believe me. To share, to be open, to be transparent is to lose shame and humiliation. Don't believe me? Try it! You tell someone how God has redeemed your life, and the more you tell it, the sweeter the story becomes to you. In fact, you'll hardly be able to contain it and you'll get to the point to where you can't wait to tell someone. Because it's just too good! God is too good! And that pain you're feeling now, it will be turned into joy. And that regret will be turned into praise. And as you share, your heart will swell because you'll see the purpose. You'll see part of the greater picture. And I think you'll be really surprised at by the amount of love and acceptance poured out on you. Especially from those dearest to you!
I remember dealing with shame and thinking that I had let everyone down. Everyone. Even people I didn't really know. I remember thinking how disappointed in me my family must have been. They kept telling me that they weren't, but I had a hard time believing that was true. I had a hard time thinking they weren't just saying that to make me feel a little better. Because I was absolutely disappointed in myself. Failure wasn't my game, and I had clearly failed. Big time failed. I worried so much what others were thinking as they heard the news. Were they happy? Did the smugly smile and said, "Ha! Serves her right. She probably deserved it." Were they heartbroken? Did they see me in a different light? And I remember telling my mom that my heart ached over the fact that one day, I was going to have to tell my children this part of my story. That's the beauty of growing up in the age of technology. There are no secrets. It doesn't matter how much you try to cover things up... it can be uncovered. And just imagine what our kids will find in 15 or 20 years. If that doesn't make you think twice about the information you share, it should. Anyway, I told her I dreaded that day when I had to break the news to them. I just knew that my future, hypothetical (at the time) children would be so disgusted with me. That they'd never look at me the same and I'd lose all credibility with them, not to mention their love and acceptance. What would they think about their mother once they knew the entire story and not just the good parts?
Shortly after that, I met a sweet friend who unknowingly told me that her mother had gone through the same thing as a young woman. As I listened to her talk about her mother, I noticed her voice was filled with compassion for her mom. She didn't seem disappointed in her mom, rather, she felt sorrowful thinking about the 20-some-odd year old woman who was dealing with a devastating heartbreak. And as I saw her relationship with her mom play out, I saw how much she loved and adored her mother. In fact, it seemed that she wasn't bothered the least bit by her mother's past. It was just a fact to her. But the woman she knew, the mother that raised her, that was the woman she loved. Not because her mom was perfect and done everything right. She loved her because she was her mother.
Clearly, Sugar Bug will know. Sweet baby can go back and read years and years of my thoughts and feelings if s/he so desires. This child, and the ones to come, will be able to watch my story completely unfold through blog posts, and I'll gladly share the unwritten details. I'm not ashamed. In fact, I'm not even disappointed. I'm grateful. So, so, so grateful. And you know what, you should be, too. You should be so incredibly thankful for what God has done and is doing in your life. You shouldn't hide it. And even if you're pretty certain you have everyone fooled, your children included, think again. Just because we may not admit our weaknesses or imperfections doesn't mean people don't know... can't see... haven't heard. People are surprisingly good at putting the pieces of the puzzle together. And you know what I've learned, for the few people who are going to think negatively about you, there are so many more that will think highly of you. They'll appreciate your honesty, your vulnerability, your authenticity. Why, you ask? Because your story is their story. You're speaking hope and encouragement to them, and more than that, you're pointing them to the source of all of our hope. The one who writes incredibly beautiful stories of redemption. Who loves and accepts us regardless of our failures and mistakes. The God who will bring purpose from all things and use it for the good of those who love Him if will just let Him. Your story is not a mistake. It's not a waste. It's not a disaster. It's another page, another chapter, another plot line in a greater story that, guess what, really isn't about you.
There is freedom in sharing. I know it sounds ironic, but believe me. To share, to be open, to be transparent is to lose shame and humiliation. Don't believe me? Try it! You tell someone how God has redeemed your life, and the more you tell it, the sweeter the story becomes to you. In fact, you'll hardly be able to contain it and you'll get to the point to where you can't wait to tell someone. Because it's just too good! God is too good! And that pain you're feeling now, it will be turned into joy. And that regret will be turned into praise. And as you share, your heart will swell because you'll see the purpose. You'll see part of the greater picture. And I think you'll be really surprised at by the amount of love and acceptance poured out on you. Especially from those dearest to you!
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