I’ve set a writing goal. One blog post a week, plus another thousand words that I don’t post. This is week three.
The thousand words I don’t post come pretty easily. They’re not necessarily focused or organized. They’re a bit rambly and full of emotion and they pour out of me.
But the blog posts? They’re hard to write on a deadline. Because my best posts come from an emotional place. They come when I’m going through something that I need to process or share or work through. But it’s got to be just the right thing. It can’t be something too sensitive. It can’t be something too raw or recent.
I’m realizing, as I write this, that I don’t post anything that I’m even a little ashamed of. I’m inspired by Brene Brown’s work on shame and vulnerability, and her perspective has helped me be a little more authentic. But none of us likes to be judged.
When I write online, I am open to sharing some pretty raw and vulnerable stuff; partly because I know and trust most of my readers, but also because, deep down, I’m pretty proud of what I share.
I’m proud that we brought Bea into our family; I’m honored to be a part of this loyal, strong, smart young lady’s life. I’m proud of Lee and who he is; not only his identity, but his artistic talent and his sense of humor and his inquisitive mind. I’m also proud of the way our family has supported him. I’m proud of Cal’s quick wit and kind heart. I’m proud of my stepsons; their loyalty and their work ethic and their willingness to shift their beliefs and expectations to make room for the changing dynamics of a family. I’m proud of my musical, handy, impulsive husband, who is the reason anything big ever gets done around here.
I’m proud of this chaotic, messy, beautiful life we’ve built. And even when I’m sad, or frustrated or lonely or afraid … I can tell you that, too. Because it’s real, and honest.
But it’s hard to share shame. When you know you were wrong. When you know you didn’t give your all. When your negligence or laziness or messed up priorities led to someone getting hurt.
And what I’ve learned about all that is that it isn’t necessarily the EVENT that’s so hard to deal with. It’s a reconciliation of yourself. It’s figuring out what to do with a juxtaposition that has you questioning your own identity. If you believe yourself to be an honest person, and you did something dishonest… what do you DO with that? Do you blame others? Pretend it didn’t happen? Hide under your covers? Give up and become dishonest always?
If you consider yourself to be responsible, but you made an irresponsible choice, the hardest part is figuring out who you are now. Are you still the person you thought you were?
It is in this vulnerable place where I find my faith to be so valuable. If I can convince myself, in that agitated state, that I am loved and beloved, JUST AS I AM, then I can find the next step.
I can look at who I am and who I want to be and know that, even while I am improving, I am still whole and valued and loved beyond measure. That’s the power of faith and forgiveness.
I think it’s easier said than done. I think it takes a lot of mental and emotional work. But it’s so worth it. We do it for our kids, right? Think about it. We don’t tell them they’re BAD KIDS. We tell them that they’re GOOD KIDS who made a bad choice. We tell them that we love them no matter what and that we’re going to help them make better choices.
That’s what grace is. So today, I’m going to extend myself a little grace. I hope you will do the same.