A Bushel and a Peck

An interesting thought this morning... Satan and his followers whisper to all of us. They whisper that we are not enough, that we are better than someone else, that we shouldn't have to suffer, that we should just give up. They push us to act on our anger and fear. They laugh when we listen. They hate us and want to see us fail. They are not our friends. Depression and anxiety seem to amplify their voices. Depression and anxiety are their microphones in my head. So often I have been overwhelmed by all their phrases going through my mind, "Who would ever listen to someone with a double chin? Who would ever want a woman with acne all over her face? Who would ever respect a person who doesn't know what she's doing? Just sit down and shut up and don't let people see you. If they don't see you, they can't laugh at you. Better to be invisible." Listening to those voices has kept me small. I've had to fight to change the belief they drilled in me ...

God is excited to hear from us. When my kids spontaneously tell me they love me, give me a genuine "thank you" without prompting, or ask nicely for my help, my heart melts. I love to hear things like that from them. It makes all the stress of parenting - all the "bad" moments and "bad" behavior - more than worth it. In fact, hearing things like that from them after they've "messed up" is especially encouraging. Seriously! So it is when we pray. God not only wants to hear from us, but His heart is touched when we speak to Him. It makes Him happy. He wants to connect with us, no matter how "bad" we have been. Just like I get a little thrill of joy and gratitude when my kids reach out to me, so does our Heavenly Father when we reach out to Him. How wonderful it is to be loved like that, no matter what we have done. ❤

I downloaded a dating app the other day. I've talked to a small handful of guys. It's been interesting. I'd been fighting the idea of getting one of those apps for a couple weeks. I even tried it for a day or two and didn't feel right about it. About a week ago, a switch flipped somewhere in my mind, heart, and/or soul: it feels like time to test the water. I'm hesitant, but ready to start dipping my toes into the dating world. I know, deep down in the pit of my stomach, the core of my soul, that no relationship I start right now can go much past friendship. I'm going through a period of explosive growth. My soul, so long chained and kept in the dark, is experimenting with its wings and getting used to the light. I'm learning, I'm expanding, I'm feeling, as if for the first time. I'm starting to figure out who I am. I see that if I start a relationship right now, I'll get stuck again. I'm still too codependent. I'm still healing...

Note to self: Anger is almost always a cover-up for pain or fear. When I'm angry, rather than taking it out on someone else, I should ask myself what hurts or what I'm afraid of. I should listen to and nurture my own heart before lashing out in a somewhat misguided attempt to protect it from outside threats. Once I understand my own heart, I can speak up for it in a healthy way. I am capable of taking care of my own heart. I don't have to try to force others to take care of it.

I remember feeling. A lot. As a child and then as a teenager. I would still cut off plenty of my own emotions, but I know I felt more deeply then than I did in my early twenties. I was like a child in a kiddie pool. I was cautious but reasonably comfortable. My late teens brought severe depression and anxiety. Then I got married, a month before I turned 20. I thought I knew what I was doing. I really, honestly believed I was ready. But it took a lot of convincing. I think the biggest thing was that I had never felt loved like that before and I was afraid to lose it. I was afraid to let go of the love I had for someone else. I wanted to love and be loved that much. Letting go of that seemed like losing a piece of my soul and I didn't know how to live through that kind of loss. So I clung tighter, despite a good handful of red flags. The depression and anxiety prompted a serious distrust of my own feelings. Making the choice to get married, in the midst of confusion and anxiety, ...

I made a video the other day talking about how I "check" my feelings, refuse to allow myself to feel them fully. I minimize, deny, ignore my own emotions constantly. I've gotten so good at it that I almost never notice that I'm doing it. I just do it. Like breathing. Being honest with myself about the fact that I do that feels like slicing open my own skin and tugging on some fundamental part of my body. Ouch. I also said that I didn't know why I do that. And then yesterday I admitted that I do know why - I'm afraid of the immensity and intensity of my own emotions. What if they crush me? Yes, that is part of my fear. But I realized there's another part. Part of me wants to honor the depth and breadth of my true emotions and I feel that any attempt to put those things into words, to experience them fully, to share them at all with anyone else would cheapen them. I don't want to share my deep, intense, huge emotions with someone only to have them br...