Chasing After Me

She was about six-years-old and wearing red shorts with a short-sleeved white shirt…the front of her shirt was covered a rainbow bursting out of a giant heart.

I think the shirt was quite telling.

It was like her heart was exploding with all the things that rainbows are to little girls…beauty, hope, promise, mystery…and let’s not forget that pot of gold.

That little girl had a big heart, was filled with ideas, and only knew her passions.

As she aged, the same heart and same rainbow were there. But the beauty, hope, promise and mystery exploding from her heart seemed a bit impractical, less relevant, and definitely naïve. Somehow it all seemed a bit clouded…and, strangely, even further away now that she should have been closer.

It was as if, year-after-year, little-by-little, the bigness of the rainbow was being stuffed back into her heart. Still present, but hidden from plain sight.

The thing about the bigness of a bursting rainbow is: it’s hard to stuff. She couldn’t stop thinking about it. Ever. She couldn’t really keep it hidden from others. Curious and observant people could still see it.

But to the six-year-old little girl present in the body of the now 30-something, what she now knew to be beautiful, hope-filled, promise-filled, and intriguingly mysterious, overwhelmed her.

It was all she could think about, but nothing she could let herself do.

Paralysis.

It wasn’t fear of failure. It wasn’t fear of judgment.

It was a question: could what is held in the idealistic heart of a six-year-old really be for life today?

One thing was for sure, all that was longing to explode once again wasn’t anything distance, impracticality, relevance or naïveté could take away.

It’s as if someone intentionally plants desires in young hearts with purpose – so that by the time brains are developed enough to talk the heart out of something, it’s already too deeply ingrained.

There is purity in purpose that comes from this place…I would know, I’m dying to find that shirt once again.

Someone observed something about me last week that was jarring:

I think it’s funny that you talk so much about being an external processor, yet you process things internally a hundred times before you let them out of your mouth.

She was right.

I guess I let the energy I get from being with people, communicating with people, and even simply writing skew my perspective.

The reality is internal or external processing is just that – a process. It’s not good or bad. It’s not stronger or weaker.

The jarring part of what she said is what I realized I let the internal processing do to me.

It. Immobilizes. Me.

Especially in places where I know I’m supposed to be sharing. Like on this blog. Crap, I even have trouble journaling (despite telling everyone I think they should!) because I feel the need for thoughts to be complete first…the need to be formed into something easily digestible, appealing, and certainly important in order to be presented.

Debilitating.

What if I share something that isn’t a complete story? Exposes more weakness or hurt than I’m comfortable with? What if I say something controversial? What if I say something that makes someone angry instead of fulfilled or encouraged? What if I say something plain stupid?

It stresses me out.

Processing holds an important place. But it shouldn’t supersede the processing meant to be shared with others.

So let’s not get in the way of ourselves.

After all, consuming things that are unprocessed mean more nutrients, more vitamins, more strength and, ultimately, more life.

We’re needy people. I know I am. Needy in that I need to know I am loved.

I believe everyone, no matter what they might say to the contrary, wants to know they’re loved…wants to feel loved.

But, sometimes my frustrations work overtime. In some moments or seasons I don’t feel loved. Cognitively, I know I am loved. But it’s that feeling part that gets in the way. The feeling tries to talk me out of the knowledge that I am, indeed, loved…loved by my husband…loved by my family…loved by my friends…loved by God.

My feelings get in the way of the indisputable truth that I am, indeed, loved.

I think that holds true for all of us.

We think we risk losing love. And in all reality, because I’m talking about humans here (not God), that’s possible.

I think God knew long ago that feeling loved might be an issue. And I believed He tackled the issue head on.

I believe God loves us so much that He wants nothing to separate us from Him. He believes the best in us…despite our shortcomings, failures, imperfections and doubts. He believes the best in us so much that He made those shortcomings, failures, imperfections and doubts disappear…they’re gone as far as the east is from the west. Even if we still see them. God doesn’t. He only sees the best. He made a decision long ago to make sure that He only sees the best in us. And he keeps giving out love.

What does that have to do with feeling loved by our significant others? Our closest friends? Our families?

Well, if God’s love lives inside of us, then it is a love that believes the best…a love that gives out even more love.

All too often we forget both of those truths.

We assume that our families no longer care. We assume that our significant other is mad at us. We assume that a friend has replaced us with someone else.

If those are the things we dwell upon, are we believing the best in people?

If those are the things we dwell upon, are we focused too much on ourselves instead of letting God’s love exude from us into the lives of others?

I’m not saying the feelings aren’t real. Because they are. Frankly, I’ve felt them all…often…and they reappear all of the time.

But feeling sorry for ourselves doesn’t help anything.

When I stop the love flow to others based upon my fears, assumptions or frustrations, it only makes me feel awful…feel lonely…feel depressed. In focusing upon myself, I forget that they might be overwhelmed, they might be busy, they might be dealing with stuff, they might be tired, they might be absent-minded, they might be feeling the same “unloved” feelings I’m dealing with, or maybe they really are frustrated with me…but it doesn’t change that love believes the best…and it doesn’t change the fact that love gives.

The thing is…when I realize the self-pity ridiculousness that is going on in my head…and I force myself to stop and believe the best in those people…and to let love flow…I forget about the feelings, and I feel fulfilled. And, almost simultaneously, I feel loved…not because the love is always returned to me…but because love is operating in me…and that’s when I feel loved by a being much bigger than I can imagine.

Love exists to be given away…as we believe the best in one another.

Love never gives up. Love cares more for others than for self. Love doesn’t want what it doesn’t have. Love doesn’t strut, doesn’t have a swelled head, doesn’t force itself on others, isn’t always “me first,” doesn’t fly off the handle, doesn’t keep score of the sins of others, doesn’t revel when others grovel, takes pleasure in the flowering of truth, puts up with anything, trusts God always, always looks for the best, never looks back, but keeps going to the end. (1 Corinthians 13:4-8, The Message)

I love writing. I love being vulnerable. I believe deeply that every thought and experience one person has can change at least one other life for the better.

So why is writing this blog (and the five book ideas in my head!) hard for me? Maybe it’s because I know that I know that I know that it’s something I should be doing and I put ridiculous pressure on myself.  Maybe it’s because I think doing other things with my time are more fruitful. Maybe it’s because it’s because it requires me to publish unrefined thoughts. Maybe it’s because a part of me is afraid of the vastness of where things could lead. I don’t know. It’s probably all of that.

But, I’m surrounded by amazing human beings. Amazing human beings who don’t know that they even hold me accountable to doing what I love…hold me accountable to not discounting what I love…hold me accountable for something they know I’m supposed to be doing, too. I’m grateful for them. They keep me going.

I think we all inexplicably avoid things we’re passionate about. And I think it’s because of fear. It’s stupid becaus, if it’s a passion of ours, and it’s a competency of ours, then it is our strength….and I believe that God operates through the unique talents he’s given each of us…operates through us. Why wouldn’t we give our strengths to Him, too? What’s to be afraid of? Because, perfect love casts out fear.

Close your eyes. Take a deep breath. Take a few more. Remember how much you’re loved. Trust that love. Trust the peace. And let God take over…no fear…we’re not alone.

You know the people…

…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.