Peek-a-Boo
Disclaimer: Writing these kinds of posts, personal things that are happening in my life, is scary. But I don't want you to think they're depressing or hopeless. They're never hopeless. I have a source of hope that runs really deep, so never think I'm hopeless! I want people to see how Jesus is working in my life and showing me life, and sometimes that means being vulnerable about real stuff. So read with care but not with a sense of depression, ok? Thanks for reading!
My one-year-old nephew likes to play peek-a-boo. He'll put a blanket over his face and believe he's fully hidden from you, which is hilarious...because he's not. But you pretend you can't see him and he'll pull the blanket off and laugh. His way of thinking-that the blanket covering his face is fully concealing him-is childish, because he is a child after all, right? So why am I doing the same thing at 22? It's not as cute!
I've had these thoughts weighing on me, and every week they get heavier and heavier instead of lighter. I'm a champ at waiting around (or avoiding) and not thinking about things to see if they'll get better, until they don't and they're so loud I can't ignore them anymore. It's like I throw a blanket over some of the things that are bothering me and pretend I can't see them, when they're obviously there. It's one of those things that I'm working on, because part of being an adult is owning up to what you're feeling and dealing with it. Avoiding usually gets me nowhere and makes me feel like an idiot in the end. It does me a disservice, and I'm not just hurting myself when I don't deal with things; it affects my relationships, even if it's just in little ways.
My dad and I aren't close. We don't fight all the time, we just aren't very close. In June he moved 9 hours away to Nebraska. I always knew deep down that my parents would divorce. Even if I hoped it wouldn't happen, I knew it was coming. They divorced in July after 30 years of marriage. I always thought if they divorced my dad and I would be closer. I thought if he was happier our relationship would improve. I thought he'd stay in Oklahoma, and we could somehow build a fulfilling relationship. He didn't stay, and we still aren't close. It makes me sad. I went from seeing him every week to seeing him a few times a year. It's just weird. We talk every now and then, but not much. He'll come to Oklahoma for important things like birthdays, and I love that he does that. I know my dad loves me, this is not a post about about me questioning if my dad loves me or not. This is a post about how his decision to leave affected me in ways I never thought it would, and what Jesus has showed me. There is still a hurt that runs deep in me when I think about him leaving. It did affect me, even though I swore that it wouldn't. Even though I don't want to admit it. It affects me. I mostly put off dealing with it because, come on, who doesn't have daddy issues or mommy issues. I got annoyed with myself and would just think, "Get it together. You are too old for this crap."
But I would feel embarrassed, frustrated. I felt ashamed. I started to feel unsure of myself.
I know the decisions another person makes are their own, and they don't reflect on me as a person. So why did his decision to leave affect me so much? Here is where it hurts: my dad's decision to leave everything/everyone here and move 9 hours away made me believe there was something innately wrong with me. Something in me was broken and wasn't worthy of someone staying, someone choosing me. Let me try and explain it a little better, if I can: My dad, who knew everything about me and was around for 22 years of my life, left. He didn't hesitate, didn't even flinch. Which told me, "You aren't a good enough reason for me to stay." I was embarrassed and felt ashamed, because I thought people would hear that he left and think, "He must not have had a good reason to stay." I started to feel insecure, and this is where this affects my relationships and not just me. I started to believe that I wasn't a good enough reason for anyone to stay, for anyone to choose me. I started being fearful of letting people know me, really know me, because there was something wrong with me, something that, if people got close enough, would see that I was broken or damaged or see the reason my dad chose to leave. This has been especially damaging for my idea of dating. Being rejected, not being chosen, first dates that didn't turn in to second dates, confirmed the lie in my head that I was damaged or that something was wrong with me. Any form of rejection or inaction would rattle me to the core and make me think, "I knew it. Something about me isn't good enough for him to choose or pursue." But even if I was being pursued, I would think "I am way too damaged. They deserve someone more whole, more naive, someone who has seen a little less of life." This spirit of feeling damaged has lingered for awhile. Maybe that is a really slippery slope, but that's the thought process that would go on in my mind. I couldn't figure out what exactly was wrong with me, I had just convinced myself that something was wrong and people would figure it out and leave too.
At some point I realized that I shouldn't balance my sense of worth on what kind of love I think I do or don't deserve, the affection/attention of men, friendships, or people in general, even my father. Because sometimes people suck and they make bad choices. Sometimes first dates don't turn into second dates, sometimes friends come and go. Sometimes friends hurt us. Sometimes people have been through more crap than others. It shouldn't send me reeling and questioning myself or my sense of worth.
Last Sunday, my pastor preached a sermon on God's love. It was the first Sunday of February, so I was already annoyed before the service even started, expecting it to be a full month of sermons over marriage/dating- a topic I don't want to talk about for 4 weeks straight. I just don't. But it wasn't about that. It was about God's pursuit of us, his rebellious love that is without condition and something we can only try to understand but probably can't fully understand. I've grown up in church hearing sermons about this before, but it was one of those things I knew but didn't really know, if you know what I mean. I know the way Jesus loves us is so crazy it's hard to comprehend, but I still thought I had it figured out. I was wrong, because I had dumbed down Jesus' love to be equivalent to the way my family and friends, my dad, and my dating relationships have loved me, or how much love I thought I deserved...which you can't do. Earthly relationships can be conditional and aren't perfect, but Jesus is perfect. I have a really good, supportive family and some of the best friends in the world. I believe whole-heartedly that Jesus can show you his love through other people, but you can't compare the full extent of his love to the way other people love us. They can show us parts of Jesus' love but can't fully encompass his love, because only He can do that.
When I started to believe there was something wrong with me, or when I started blaming myself for my dad leaving, I started believing that there was no way Jesus could love every part of me since other people hadn't. I started accepting parts of Jesus' love that I thought I deserved and ignoring the rest. I prayed for certain things but wouldn't touch on other subjects. Peek-a-boo for adults, I guess. But Grace is all or nothing, so it doesn't work that way. He probably thought I looked ridiculous putting a blanket over some issues but exposing others, because he still sees all of me. So when I heard a sermon last Sunday about the depth and crazy love of Christ, I heard it like I hadn't heard it before, because I needed to hear it more than ever. I've never felt so freed by a sermon, never felt so happy to be in that seat on a Sunday morning. It was like I had been drowning and someone pulled me out and I took a breath.
Later that week, I read a verse in 1 John that I've read over and over, because it's really good. "For whenever our heart condemns us, God is greater than our heart and he knows everything." I am so, so thankful for that. I'm thankful for a Jesus who knows every part of my heart and chooses to stay, to pursue me even when I don't think I'm worth it. I can tell him all day long what I think I'm worth or worthy of, and he will still tell me that I'm more. What a relief.
I want so badly for people to know that Jesus.
So...May you come out from behind the blanket and be fully present with all of the things that are weighing on your heart, because you look ridiculous by trying to hide. May you accept the overwhelming and unconditional love of Jesus, because life is sweeter that way. May you realize that when you think you have the love of Christ figured out, you are probably the most wrong you've ever been. And then, may you find your way back to that place of Grace that doesn't make sense and has room for your small-minded idea of Love...and let it change your world.
"And may you have the power to understand, as all God's people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his love is. May you experience the love of Christ, though it is too great to understand fully. Then you will be made complete with all the fullness of life and power that comes from God." Ephesians 3:18-19
My one-year-old nephew likes to play peek-a-boo. He'll put a blanket over his face and believe he's fully hidden from you, which is hilarious...because he's not. But you pretend you can't see him and he'll pull the blanket off and laugh. His way of thinking-that the blanket covering his face is fully concealing him-is childish, because he is a child after all, right? So why am I doing the same thing at 22? It's not as cute!
I've had these thoughts weighing on me, and every week they get heavier and heavier instead of lighter. I'm a champ at waiting around (or avoiding) and not thinking about things to see if they'll get better, until they don't and they're so loud I can't ignore them anymore. It's like I throw a blanket over some of the things that are bothering me and pretend I can't see them, when they're obviously there. It's one of those things that I'm working on, because part of being an adult is owning up to what you're feeling and dealing with it. Avoiding usually gets me nowhere and makes me feel like an idiot in the end. It does me a disservice, and I'm not just hurting myself when I don't deal with things; it affects my relationships, even if it's just in little ways.
My dad and I aren't close. We don't fight all the time, we just aren't very close. In June he moved 9 hours away to Nebraska. I always knew deep down that my parents would divorce. Even if I hoped it wouldn't happen, I knew it was coming. They divorced in July after 30 years of marriage. I always thought if they divorced my dad and I would be closer. I thought if he was happier our relationship would improve. I thought he'd stay in Oklahoma, and we could somehow build a fulfilling relationship. He didn't stay, and we still aren't close. It makes me sad. I went from seeing him every week to seeing him a few times a year. It's just weird. We talk every now and then, but not much. He'll come to Oklahoma for important things like birthdays, and I love that he does that. I know my dad loves me, this is not a post about about me questioning if my dad loves me or not. This is a post about how his decision to leave affected me in ways I never thought it would, and what Jesus has showed me. There is still a hurt that runs deep in me when I think about him leaving. It did affect me, even though I swore that it wouldn't. Even though I don't want to admit it. It affects me. I mostly put off dealing with it because, come on, who doesn't have daddy issues or mommy issues. I got annoyed with myself and would just think, "Get it together. You are too old for this crap."
But I would feel embarrassed, frustrated. I felt ashamed. I started to feel unsure of myself.
I know the decisions another person makes are their own, and they don't reflect on me as a person. So why did his decision to leave affect me so much? Here is where it hurts: my dad's decision to leave everything/everyone here and move 9 hours away made me believe there was something innately wrong with me. Something in me was broken and wasn't worthy of someone staying, someone choosing me. Let me try and explain it a little better, if I can: My dad, who knew everything about me and was around for 22 years of my life, left. He didn't hesitate, didn't even flinch. Which told me, "You aren't a good enough reason for me to stay." I was embarrassed and felt ashamed, because I thought people would hear that he left and think, "He must not have had a good reason to stay." I started to feel insecure, and this is where this affects my relationships and not just me. I started to believe that I wasn't a good enough reason for anyone to stay, for anyone to choose me. I started being fearful of letting people know me, really know me, because there was something wrong with me, something that, if people got close enough, would see that I was broken or damaged or see the reason my dad chose to leave. This has been especially damaging for my idea of dating. Being rejected, not being chosen, first dates that didn't turn in to second dates, confirmed the lie in my head that I was damaged or that something was wrong with me. Any form of rejection or inaction would rattle me to the core and make me think, "I knew it. Something about me isn't good enough for him to choose or pursue." But even if I was being pursued, I would think "I am way too damaged. They deserve someone more whole, more naive, someone who has seen a little less of life." This spirit of feeling damaged has lingered for awhile. Maybe that is a really slippery slope, but that's the thought process that would go on in my mind. I couldn't figure out what exactly was wrong with me, I had just convinced myself that something was wrong and people would figure it out and leave too.
At some point I realized that I shouldn't balance my sense of worth on what kind of love I think I do or don't deserve, the affection/attention of men, friendships, or people in general, even my father. Because sometimes people suck and they make bad choices. Sometimes first dates don't turn into second dates, sometimes friends come and go. Sometimes friends hurt us. Sometimes people have been through more crap than others. It shouldn't send me reeling and questioning myself or my sense of worth.
Last Sunday, my pastor preached a sermon on God's love. It was the first Sunday of February, so I was already annoyed before the service even started, expecting it to be a full month of sermons over marriage/dating- a topic I don't want to talk about for 4 weeks straight. I just don't. But it wasn't about that. It was about God's pursuit of us, his rebellious love that is without condition and something we can only try to understand but probably can't fully understand. I've grown up in church hearing sermons about this before, but it was one of those things I knew but didn't really know, if you know what I mean. I know the way Jesus loves us is so crazy it's hard to comprehend, but I still thought I had it figured out. I was wrong, because I had dumbed down Jesus' love to be equivalent to the way my family and friends, my dad, and my dating relationships have loved me, or how much love I thought I deserved...which you can't do. Earthly relationships can be conditional and aren't perfect, but Jesus is perfect. I have a really good, supportive family and some of the best friends in the world. I believe whole-heartedly that Jesus can show you his love through other people, but you can't compare the full extent of his love to the way other people love us. They can show us parts of Jesus' love but can't fully encompass his love, because only He can do that.
When I started to believe there was something wrong with me, or when I started blaming myself for my dad leaving, I started believing that there was no way Jesus could love every part of me since other people hadn't. I started accepting parts of Jesus' love that I thought I deserved and ignoring the rest. I prayed for certain things but wouldn't touch on other subjects. Peek-a-boo for adults, I guess. But Grace is all or nothing, so it doesn't work that way. He probably thought I looked ridiculous putting a blanket over some issues but exposing others, because he still sees all of me. So when I heard a sermon last Sunday about the depth and crazy love of Christ, I heard it like I hadn't heard it before, because I needed to hear it more than ever. I've never felt so freed by a sermon, never felt so happy to be in that seat on a Sunday morning. It was like I had been drowning and someone pulled me out and I took a breath.
Later that week, I read a verse in 1 John that I've read over and over, because it's really good. "For whenever our heart condemns us, God is greater than our heart and he knows everything." I am so, so thankful for that. I'm thankful for a Jesus who knows every part of my heart and chooses to stay, to pursue me even when I don't think I'm worth it. I can tell him all day long what I think I'm worth or worthy of, and he will still tell me that I'm more. What a relief.
I want so badly for people to know that Jesus.
So...May you come out from behind the blanket and be fully present with all of the things that are weighing on your heart, because you look ridiculous by trying to hide. May you accept the overwhelming and unconditional love of Jesus, because life is sweeter that way. May you realize that when you think you have the love of Christ figured out, you are probably the most wrong you've ever been. And then, may you find your way back to that place of Grace that doesn't make sense and has room for your small-minded idea of Love...and let it change your world.
"And may you have the power to understand, as all God's people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his love is. May you experience the love of Christ, though it is too great to understand fully. Then you will be made complete with all the fullness of life and power that comes from God." Ephesians 3:18-19
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