Some of the things, I absolutely should apologize for.

But I also find myself apologizing…for speaking, for having opinions, for asking questions, for not saying enough, for not fixing something unfixable, for thinking I’m not good enough, for other peoples’ emotions, for my own emotions, for not doing something that was never expected in the first place…it really never ends.

Mostly, if I look at the big picture, I actually apologize unendingly for BEING myself…to the annoyance of the people in life who are most precious.

I always thought that trait was simply compassion…just how I’m wired.

Others might call it perfectionism.

My closest friends might lovingly call it an annoyance.

My (very wise) husband calls it ridiculously self-critical.

This week I’ve been reading Angry Conversations with God, by Susan Isaacs, and something LEAPED off of the page. I haven’t stopped thinking about it. I’m quite certain it was God Himself showing me something. Here’s the quote:

Susan, I think you keep apologizing (to God) because you haven’t accepted forgiveness (from God).

The thing is, it wasn’t the actual words on the page that got to me. When I read that passage over and over again, I saw something different:

Dawn, I think you keep apologizing (to those you love) because you haven’t accepted their acceptance (of you).

Wow.

The “Dawn” version screamed at me. The realization was startling. More startling, because I now realize I’ve rejected acceptance my entire life.

By rejecting acceptance, I’ve discounted the love that those closest to me constantly and unconditionally offer. And, by doing that, I’ve also rejected God’s attempts to tangibly love me through people who are His hands and feet.

It is the root of something that’s nagged me my entire life…something that has often made me feel lonely…something that has often made me feel insecure…something that could keep me from where I’m supposed to go.

Sorry for my mistakes…but no longer sorry for who I am.

Picture yourself holding a pitcher of water. Now picture yourself trying to fill up a cup with water from the pitcher. And now put your imagination to work…imagine that cup moving around like a fly that you’re trying to swat…speedily heading in every other direction beside the direction you think it might go…at light speed.

If that fly were a cup, and you were holding that pitcher trying to fill it, you most certainly would have trouble filling it. There would be water all over the floor from trying to pour it into the cup. And, if the cup were flying around like that, the water that may have landed inside of it surely would be splashing out all over the place.

I know it’s weird…but sometimes I think that’s how God feels.

We think we have to do a million things. We think we have to work hard to please Him.

But really, I firmly believe he wants us to find rest. Because once we slow down to realize He is right there with us…guiding us…talking with us…loving us…He fills us up. We finally slow down enough to take in all He has for us. And then, the cup starts overflowing. Overflowing with that same goodness He fills us up with. It’s an overflow that builds a desire to love and serve others the same way we are loved and served by Him. You know it’s overflow when you can’t seem to turn it off. But you don’t have overflow if you don’t slow down enough to find rest in Him…in His grace. Because nothing you can do, learn or understand can make Him love you more…or less.

Those moments of overflow are humbling. They’re humbling because you feel loved in spite of yourself. They’re humbling because you see purpose in spite of yourself. They’re humbling because you’re empowered to be His hands and feet in spite of yourself.

They’re humbling because you realize your life is a meant to be a vessel of His goodness.

That’s what happened to me on Sunday…a moment of overflow…

Click here to listen to the very first message I ever shared as a pastor at Bloom (Religiously Transmitted Diseases, part 2)…God never ceases to amaze me.

It shouldn’t matter that he slept under bridge last night. It shouldn’t matter that that his clothes were filthy. It shouldn’t matter that I heard his story through my open car window at an intersection where he was holding a sign asking for help.

He has a name…it’s Frank Wormwood.

I never would have heard his story had I not asked his name. And, I don’t know what possessed me to ask. Perhaps it was his genuine smile. Perhaps it was a manifestation of a work God is doing inside of me. Perhaps God just needed Frank to know in that moment that he is still respected and cared for. It probably was a combination of all three.

That two-minute exchange inspired me.

A name reminds you that you have a unique perspective on the world. A name reminds you that you have a unique identity. A name reminds you have a journey of your own.

A name reminds you that the homeless person on the side of the road is not an inconvenience, he’s a person filled with past experiences and dreams for the future.

You see, Frank IS a story. He is a story filled with hope. A story that’s worth something. A story that’s worth sharing.

When other people care enough to know your name, you’re not just another person on the street. You are human. You have purpose. Your life is a story.

It’s not what you think.

They’re happy tears.

Tears of gratitude.

I used to be ashamed of those moments. I saw them as my girly, oversensitive moments. Until a good friend told me that gratitude was one of the things she loved about me.

It wasn’t until that moment that I realized I didn’t need to be ashamed…because those moments are gifts. Those moments ground me…center me…bring things into perspective.

In that moment, I finally realized it’s not oversensitivity…it’s overflow from the foundation of my faith. It’s how I see the world. Gratitude is the glue that holds broken pieces of my heart and soul together when I’ve faced disappointment and sadness, or after I’ve exploded with happiness and excitement. Gratitude doesn’t erase moments, but recognizes and embraces the character that memories – good and bad – leave behind.

I don’t think gratitude came naturally for me. I think it came about as a survival mechanism. One can only take so much hurt. And, after having my heart shattered, I could either let the pieces lay there, or I could try to find a way to put them back together. And, I think the only way that pieces come back together is by identifying what’s good. Identifying what’s been learned. Identifying the impact of a life. Identifying the impact of a person. And then realizing that someone has a purpose for me that is greater than I can ever comprehend.

Gratitude is a current that propels me to get through each day.

And, today, I’m most grateful for the good friend who helped me realize that gratitude is a gift…you know who you are.

The root of joy is gratefulness. It is not joy that makes us grateful; it is gratitude that makes us joyful.” –David Steindl-Rast

Because it paralyzes me.

Once it paralyzes me, lack of confidence bleeds into other areas of my life. Once it paralyzes me, by definition, I cannot move…I cannot grow.

It’s a horrible spiral.

When it hits me, it results in a reluctance to embrace all of who I am…to be content with my rarity…to exercise my unique talents and perspectives.

I’m afraid to write. I’m afraid to speak up. I’m afraid to take risks.

It’s no secret that confidence ebbs and flows for everyone…all the time.

I’ve come to learn I’m ripe for a battle with confidence when I forget to spend ample time reflecting upon the things that amaze me…when I begin comparing my God-given purpose to the God-given purposes of others…when challenges begin feeling like free-falling instead of free-flying.

The best weapon in my battle? Realizing my being isn’t an end-state. My being is a through-state.

Realizing that fulfillment comes from embracing who I am, being content with my rarity and seeing my unique talents and perspectives as tools used to love and care for others.

Because then it’s not about believing in myself. It’s about trust in what is being done through me…whether or not I can see it…and that’s faith.

For a great blog on confidence, check out what Jenni Catron wrote on Cultivate Her!

Seriously.

Admit it. Right now you’re picturing some woman in her car or walking through a store having a robust conversation…with no one. You know, the one where you’re convinced has a bluetooth device attached to her ear because there is no way she could really be talking to herself like that.

For the record, that’s not me.

However, if you could see what really goes on in my brain, you’d think even stranger things.

And, I’m convinced I’m not alone.

Constantly playing out scenarios, conversations, possibilities, ideas…nonstop.

That’s an awful lot of internal conversation for an extrovert.

And it’s sad.

When you talk with yourself, you really don’t have much in the line of diverse perspective to offer. When you talk with yourself, you can’t offer compassion or validation that really means anything. When you talk with yourself, you’re not getting any wiser, smarter or more enlightened.

That’s depressing.

So why do I do that again?

I mean, isn’t your life richer when you’re able to share your soul with others? Or share it with a higher being?

My challenge to myself this week is to stop the conversations with myself and share them with someone else. I’ve caught myself uncountable times this week. In some cases, I’ve shared the conversations with my closest friends. In other cases, it made sense for me to talk with God about them.

And, suddenly, I feel like I can breathe. Suddenly I feel like I can face challenges. Suddenly, I feel like I can let things go. Suddenly I see more opportunity.

We’re relational beings…why fight it?

…those who are human, yet striving to be superhuman.

…those always, always, always working toward perfection, and are never satisfied.

…those working to please way too many people…trying to make them proud.

…those afraid to share their imperfections, faults and fears, even to those closest to them, because they’re afraid of rejection.

…those afraid of asking questions that challenge the status quo because they don’t want to sound stupid or be seen as rebellious.

…those dying to be all of who they are to everyone, but fear they’ll be abandoned.

If you don’t think you know someone like that, read my bio. Look at my picture. That was me.

Empty.

Lonely.

Fearful.

Insecure.

Unfulfilled.

Then came Grace. Real Grace.

Not the grace you say before you eat…and not the trite religious jargon.

Here’s the thing. I went to church almost all my life. I thought I knew what to say. I thought I knew how to act. Everyone always saw me as the good girl. God forbid they know my questions, doubts, faults and fears. I needed to hide those. From everyone. Even God. I thought I had to do a lot to make up for the things no one would ever know. I thought I had to prove myself. I had to prove to God that I loved and believed in Him. To me, my pursuit of perfection was the same thing as my pursuit of God. That was the way it was supposed to be, right?

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

Chasing approval and perfection? Pointless. Embracing the approval and perfection I finally realized I already have? Priceless.

For me, the realization was a process of logic, really. I believed Jesus came to save me. But save me from what? If Jesus brought “Good News,” what was it? Having to hide things? Pretending to be perfect? Being judgmental and closed off from the rest of the world in fear it might taint or impede my own pursuit for perfection?

No wonder people are leaving the church by the thousands. They’re searching for Good News…not an empty set of rules or rituals…or a pursuit of perfection they know they can never attain.

Why did God send Jesus again? To show us the law could be fulfilled? Or to fulfill the law for us?

HA! There’s the catch. You cannot do it better than God.

Sorry to break the news to the religious crowd, but He already fulfilled the law FOR us because He knew we were incapable of living up to His ideals.

The problem is that many Christians acknowledge grace, but forget that Grace came to earth as a loving human being and left footprints in the dirt. They forget that Grace loved so intensely that it lived perfectly just to die and pay for all of humanity’s imperfections. They forget that Grace showed its power and resilience when it returned to be our advocate and make imperfection irrelevant. They forget that Grace tells us there is no condemnation in Love.

Now, that’s Good News.

Grace…the freely given, unmerited favor and love of God.

Stew on that for a while. Free means there is no exchange. Free means nothing you have to earn. Free means nothing you have to pay for. Ever. Ever. Ever.

Grace is not religion. In fact, Grace stomped on the face of religion. Religion (and pursuit of perfection) makes you selfish. Grace (and acceptance of who you are) empowers you to be selfless.

Grace constantly transforms me.

Grace allows me to stop worrying about myself so I can focus on letting God’s love overflow from my life into the lives of others.

Grace shows me humility…because there is nothing I can do to make God love me more…and there is nothing I can do that can make God love me less.

Grace teaches me that the point of everything is Jesus…is Love…and everything else is ancillary.

Grace excites.

Grace inspires.

Grace accepts.

Grace loves.

Grace brings hope.

Grace overwhelms me with gratitude.

Grace is so big, so kind and so generous that I cannot fully understand or rationalize it.

Grace erases imperfections. Forever.

Grace changes the game. Forever.

Grace lives. Forever. And nothing can separate me from it or take it away.

Big realization.

I can now be fully alive…unafraid…and eternally connected to Unfailing Love.

Dump religion. Dump perfection. Dump approval. None of it matters.

Let Grace embrace you…God will take it from there.

It creates an image. It prompts action. It evokes deep emotions.

Webster’s definition confirms it:

• To clasp or hold close with the arms, usually as an expression of affection
• To surround; enclose
• To twine around

Now add the “-ed” to the word.

I don’t know about you…but the idea of me embracing someone is easier to stomach than the idea of being embraced. It’s personal.

Being embraced requires me to open up.

Being embraced makes me feel vulnerable.

Being embraced takes control away from me.

But then…after my own hesitancy subsides…I realize that…

Being embraced gives me safety.

Being embraced connects my soul to another.

Being embraced tangibly radiates another’s love for me.

An embrace speaks louder than any words…being embraced generates a comfort and peace unlike any other action.

It all sounds simple. Maybe it even sounds fluffy. But it’s one of the simplest and most profound realizations I’ve had. And that realization has turned the past 18 months of my life upside-down. Or maybe, it’s more accurate to say it’s a concept that has turned my life right-side-up.

For the first time in my life, I feel lovable…because I’ve finally allowed myself to be embraced. Embraced by myself…embraced by others…embraced by God.

It wasn’t that I wasn’t loved. I knew I was. But knowing you’re loved is nothing compared to allowing yourself to feel love.

Sometimes it’s awkward. Sometimes it’s clunky. Sometimes it’s scary.

But it will change your life.

Finding acceptance in embracing me.

Finally. I can love me. I’m not standing in front of a mirror ranking my performance. I’ve got my own voice, my own dance, my own moves. It’s interesting when I think about Jesus telling me in the New Testament to love others “as we love ourselves.” I certainly don’t believe he was telling me to hate others as much as I hate myself…yet all too often, that’s what I do. I think we all do. We are our own biggest haters. I’m too fat. I’m not smart enough. My opinion doesn’t matter. How can we possibly love others when we can’t even love ourselves and respect our uniqueness?

In Psalm 139:14 in the Voice translation, it says that we are filled with wonder and awe (other translations say we are fearfully and wonderfully made). I love what the phrase from the Voice suggests…filled with wonder and awe. According to whom? According to God! I imagine Him staring at me in wonder and awe. If God can look at me that way, then certainly I can. And once I can look at myself that way, I can see others that way, too.

Finding trust, encouragement and solace in embraces from others.

I always assumed that I loved people more than they could possibly love me. Not because I love bigger than anyone else, but because I couldn’t see the lovable stuff in myself. I needed to see the lovable in me in order to realize that I am, indeed, loved as much as (if not more than) I can possibly love. It’s logic, really…if God IS love, and His spirit dwells within those who believe in Him, then they emit love. God loves me through other people. I have no doubt. But I could never feel it until I let myself feel it…until I realized I could trust them to love me despite my flaws and quirks…until I would allow myself to actually HEAR their encouragement and direction.

After all, I Corinthians 13:1-3 makes it clear that the foundation of everything is LOVE. Those around me are merely living according the way Jesus asked us to live. How is rejecting their love for me respectful and loving to them? Allowing myself to be loved by others shows them I love them back. When I can trust that someone loves me, no matter what, I feel deep peace and comfort.

Finding meaning, purpose and hope in my embrace from God.

I really never had a problem understanding that God loves me. But I know I never let myself feel His love. When I think about it, I can’t feel love from people when I’m busy running around trying to please them. That’s how it was for God and me. I tried to create my own meaning and my own purpose…and believe me…that was hopeless. It always left me wanting more. And it allowed me to hide the places I didn’t want to go with Him.

When I finally understood the power of grace, and realized that there is NO CONDEMNATION for those who are in Christ (Romans 8:1, New Living Translation), I realized I had nothing to worry about! Was I at risk of Him not accepting me? Nope. He doesn’t care what I do or don’t do to please Him. He wants me to FEEL His love so that it overflows out of me and into the lives of others. The same way he uses the people in my life. Allowing myself to be embraced by God gives me hope that there is meaning and purpose to my unique self, who is filled with wonder and awe and loved by others.

You see, I realized that I can’t embrace others with a love that’s true without allowing myself to be embraced…without understanding what it feels like to be embraced… without understanding how being embraced changes the direction of a moment, a day, a season, a year and, yes, even a lifetime.

Open up. Be vulnerable. Lose control.

Allow yourself to be embraced.

And then watch your life transform.

(Thanks to the special people who understood the power of the word “embrace” and put it to work in the lives of others…including me. You know who you are.)

Independence.

We seek it. We’re recognized for it. We’re even rewarded for it.

But why?

It starts in school…during parent/teacher conferences we hear phrases like “she’s a independent worker, you should be proud.” And it doesn’t stop there…we even see it in performance reviews at work as a measure of success. And, even in everyday life, how often do you catch yourself thinking “I can do this myself”?

Guess what?! I can’t do this myself. And I’m done trying to pretend I can.

I’m done with independence.

It’s not for me.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not knocking thinking for yourself – I’m a big fan. I’m not ripping on the taking care of yourself – that’s necessary. I’m not talking about an individual’s work-style or the need for people to simply focus and get work done – because at some point, work just needs to get done. And, I’m not even talking about the differences of being extroverted or introverted. What I’m talking about is bigger than any of those things. I’m talking about the psychology of thinking we can and should do everything on our own…and the drive to make it happen.

I’ve learned that, for me, striving for independence causes pride. It makes me think I can do things best on my own…without people who care about me…without people who are smarter than me…and even without God. Furthermore, the more I pretend to be independent, the more miserable and lonely I am. And all of that is no longer OK with me.

The hardest part of the realization? Admitting it.

It happened again the other day. Instead of telling some friends I needed them…I shrugged it off as something trite. Seriously?! I couldn’t even admit to my closest friends that I needed their guidance and encouragement. As if asking for it made me weaker. Really, God forbid, anyone know I can’t do something on my own. I was being stubborn about my independence…I was being stupid.

We were created to be relational beings. We were created to communicate with one another. Hello…Adam and Eve?! It’s been collaborative since the beginning, my friends.

Think about it…

At work…do you really think that no one could possibly have a better idea than your idea? Or even someone’s insight might make your idea stronger? Of course we know that. Most of us have seen collaboration create stronger results. It works. If that’s true, why do we worry about doing it alone just to get the credit?

What about your friends and family…do you need them to love you? Care about you? Or is it all about what you bring to them? Of course not…we need them, too…but all too often we’re afraid to admit it.

What about your relationship with God? Do you really think it’s all about what you can do for him? Think again. God doesn’t need you to do squat for him. He loves us so much that he already did EVERYTHING for us. All we need to do is let that love overflow from us.

I’m done pretending.

I can’t do it alone. I wasn’t called to be on this journey in life alone.

I need people. I need God.

And, it’s liberating to admit it.

Being dependent on others makes me smarter, stronger and more complete…not to mention, humble.

I am unashamedly and blissfully dependent. And I wouldn’t change it for anything.

Fear is a funny thing. It’s not always obvious. It’s horribly uncomfortable. And, it’s often taboo.

Relational rejection.

There. I said it. That’s my biggest fear. Now it’s out there.

It’s ironic really.

Ironic because I love being completely open. Ironic because I love the freedom to be real…raw…and human. Ironic because I love seeing those traits in other people. Ironic because I’m one of the most obnoxiously relational beings I know.

Yet, somehow, this fear has forced me to hide a piece of my soul from the world. Even from my closest friends. Not because of any lack of trust. But truly out of fear. Fear that if they knew every ounce of my maniacal thought process and pervasive insecurities, they would no longer want anything to do with me.

Frankly, it’s been so well hidden in my life, that I’ve literally forgotten those things exist. I’ve gotten so comfortable with sharing my feelings, that I’ve forgotten there are “whys” behind those feelings. And, convinced myself that no one really wants to know those things anyway.

Wrong.

Way wrong.

The friends who do care about those “whys” have somehow found me. And, their deep love cracked that hard core of fear…a place in my life where I feel most vulnerable.

I let my fear of being alone and being vulnerable limit what my friends could be to me…limit the love I’d allow myself to receive from them. But, thank God for their persistence. For their love. For letting God use them to show me another layer of his own unfailing love and grace.

In close friendships, people don’t see vulnerabilities as signs of weakness or dark corners where no one wants to go.

These deep relationships seek vulnerabilities to embrace them.

Once my friends drew the vulnerabilities out of me, I was reminded that if they desired to get that close to me, than Jesus wanted it more. He doesn’t care about dark corners, because he is light…because he embodies perfect love…because his perfect love casts out fear. Even fear of relational rejection.

In the New Testament, Jesus refers to himself as our friend. I’m convinced he does that so we can capture glimpses in our lives today as to how he wants to operate in our lives. How we talk with him. How we laugh with him. How we cry with him. How we debate with him. And, yes, even what we share with him.

Those friends know who they are. And, I’m indebted to their compassion, loyalty and deep love. And, mostly, I’m thankful that God could use them to remind me of how much I’m loved for who I am. Right now. Despite the flaws, insecurities and fears I see in myself. Because He doesn’t even see them. He only sees beauty…vulnerable beauty.

“Knowing and letting oneself be known require overcoming many ancient fears – but it’s worth every risk.” – Arianna Huffington in “On Becoming Fearless”