You're Not Perfect. You're Something Better.

I had a friend recently text me in the middle of a very difficult day. I think her text came in response to my post about our family going bowling. What she said really touched me. And at the risk of sounding like a ridiculous braggart, I thought I would share what she said. "You are inspirational. God does a mighty work through you!! I have had friends where I would have thought about how I needed to be more like them. You, my dear friend, make me want to be more like me. It's the best! Thank you!!"

Again, it's kind of silly to publish a compliment. But I thought what she said was so poignant. I know I spent YEARS of my life in the former category, the type of person who was so fed by accolades that I lived in a way so people elevated me as an example of what to be. I wanted that. I wanted to be the best leader, the holiest Christian, the most responsible and caring mother, the untouchable perfect person. Only then would I be safe. And I think that gaping need for perfection came from a place of unworthiness and a need for control. When your filter is low, whatever feedback you get from others might as well be truth. There's no room for someone to assess you and be wrong in their perception. So if I was perceived as less than the best I could be, failing to perform to the highest standard or hinting in any way a lack of integrity or faith, I scrambled to patch the hole in my persona. Because if that was true, I had nothing.  

There are so many problems with this. Primarily, this makes people feel like shit. By living your life to an impossible standard and promoting that in others, you make people feel like shit. Every day. Whenever they interact with you, see your perfect posts on social media or have a moment where their humanity takes center stage in their life you are heaping shame on them for not measuring up. I guarantee you, if you have someone like this in your life, it's actually because they feel like shit about themselves. They may not know it (I didn't). But they are projecting their un-fillable hole onto you to make you feel bad. If everyone doesn't play this game, the perpetrator is losing in a different way. She doesn't feel she can opt out, so neither can you.

Sometimes this comes out in church (my hotbed for performance and shame). We act like everyone should be a leader and being a leader means providing a good example. It's why shame-based "sins" like pornography thrive in evangelicalism. No one can keep up with the perfection so they choose something super-shameful (which fuels the addiction because it creates a shame spiral) and keep it hidden as best they can. Because it's not based on actually being a good person. It's based on appearing to be a good person. 

So the problem isn't the shameful behavior. The problem is someone discovering the shameful behavior. This is why we punish girls for getting pregnant but have no words for the boy who impregnated her. She's the one who appears sinful. So she's the problem. Though if she "solves" the problem with an abortion, then she's a way worse person. Damned if you do, damned if you don't. Jesus responded to this repeatedly, having mercy. This is why men like Josh Duggar get a pass and his wife gets to share the responsibility for his pornography addiction, molestation of under-aged girls (including his own flesh and blood) and repeated infidelities. He'd been doing this for YEARS and his family knew about it, at least the early stuff. The problem became a real problem when it became public. Nevermind that he came home to his pure, modestly dressed wife of five children in as many years having spent himself on another woman. You are unable to take personal responsibility for your choices when you're living in the land of appearances. The shame is up for grabs and can be conveniently placed on another person. If someone in your life never owns their shit and is always blaming others, this dynamic is probably at play. Because owning your shit means you're a piece of shit. It's a lie.

And you may hear ideology at church about how we're all pieces of shit but for the grace of God. So there's this self-hating, God-loving premise that fuels a lack of self-care, grace for self and others, and a genuine self-hatred as a form of worship. DO NOT BELIEVE THIS. Why would God call us his masterpiece, send his Son to die a painful death to save us, make us in his image because he thinks we're pieces of shit and are so lucky to be here at all? HE LOVES US. Not because he's so great and we're so unlovable. Yes he's great. But we're his. Which means we're great too. He created us because he wants relationship WITH US. Not in spite of us. Not because we screwed it up and he had to scramble for a Plan B. I believe God made us human ON PURPOSE. That means that he's not surprised by our frailty, our humanity. He. Made. It. He finds beauty in us, a reflection of his creator self. And again, not because he has super God goggles and we're really just pieces of shit. What if we're actually great? Have you ever thought about that? Yes, we are happier and healthier humans when we embrace each other and forsake greed, violence and hatred. Yes. But those moments when we don't measure up? He knew that was going to happen. And IT'S O.K. 

There's one other way I see this happening. It seems really sweet and "safe" but it's started to really bother me. I'm describing when someone literally has no concept of self outside of God. We've told Christians that they're good BECAUSE God says they're good. They're okay BECAUSE God says they're ok. I get it. When you believe everything begins and ends with what God says, this makes sense. But it's saying that self-love only comes as a response to God saying we're worthy. That implies that if he said we weren't, then we really would be pieces of shit. And I know many people can't go here with me. But what I believe is that even if God changed his mind and decided we were pieces of shit, I don't believe we are. What this has done is affirmed my faith in God but also in myself apart from God. I think it's dangerous to base our entire self-concept on what God says about us because our interpretations of God vary, even if he doesn't change. Is that not just the more spiritual version of what I described above? That I was okay because others were impressed by me. Can we be okay regardless of anyone's opinion, even God's? I know it's a stretch for some. But if we can sever this final cord, what happens is we have a less conditional relationship with God. We can stand on our own feet and interact with him. Obviously not as equals, but as dual participants in relationship. What if we are inherently lovable? Even when we "sin"? Not because God forgives us but because our humanity is not a problem to be solved but intentional? It also frees me from the constant analysis of my behavior and what categorizes as sinful or acceptable. If we're safe forever, can we release the list of do's and don't's and just be loved and loving? I feel like I finally understand that verse "there is no fear in love for perfect love casts out fear." I never, ever could allow that verse to sink into my bones. Maybe this is what it meant? 

What kind of posture would you have in the world when you believed, deep in that un-fillable hole that you are great? As is. Just inherently great. Full stop. How would you treat others? How would you speak to yourself? Would you project your perfect image into the world to reflect your own glory? Or would you feel a quiet confidence, a willingness to be vulnerable, a deliberate embrace of yourself as human, not perfect? I am not an example. I am a human. And I am wonderful. When those things become real to you, you no longer feel the need to convince others of that truth. Or if you do, (in my case right now) it's to free them from themselves not to secure faith in yourself. 

I would like to make one final point about all this self-love and awesomeness. This applies to all mankind, not just people who look like you or believe like you do. I believe that God loves every human, made every human in his image and thinks every human is beautiful. Not every human behavior. Every human. And so please don't take my special words and apply them to special groups. I used to feel threatened by God's lack of special favors. I wanted to be set apart, better, safe, special. I didn't want everyone to be equal. How would I win if everyone gets a participation trophy? There are so many examples of this exceptionalism in the New Testament. I understand it. But let me be clear - that is UGLY SHIT. Do not elevate yourself. God loves Muslims. God loves refugees. God loves poor people, yes even the ones on social programs. God loves Republicans (ouch). God loves Democrats too (yea!) Do not take the beauty inside yourself and draw lines around it. Share the love in your heart indiscriminately. And if you need a reason outside yourself, remember, this is what God does. 

You do you. Love yourself. Believe in your goodness. Give yourself a fucking break. Honor the pain you feel, the journey you're taking, the growth you've experienced. See yourself as someone worthy of compassion, validation and acceptance. As is. Don't set deadlines for your own mercy (I'll like myself when...). Stop pushing yourself now. Accept yourself and figure out who you really want to be. Then pursue it in freedom and love full of grace for the process and for the beautiful person courageous enough to speak her dreams and reach for them. 

The Week My Husband Lost His Job & I Called Security on My Kid

It's been quite a week. I don't really intend to talk about Tim's job loss today, but I put it in the title to give context to the whole calling security thing. A lot of my thoughts have come back to, "I don't need this right now." This is not a typical thought for me, but it has applied several times in the last few days.
I never stole anything as a child (typical) but Tim did and he paid dearly for it. When Macy took something from Dollar Tree last year, I gasped so loud I scared her. She had to march right back in and return it. But today, my mommy radar was up when we were in a consignment shop. She had her eye on these hair clips and when I went back to get the one we'd picked, it wasn't there. I suspected that she had stashed it somewhere, but didn't want to show her that I doubted her integrity. I really do believe the best in people and was hoping I was wrong. When we got home from the mall, I found the clip when I started to clean out the car. 
So, back to the mall we went (exhausted) where she had to return both the clip we bought and the one she stole. Tim had called the shop on the way and explained the situation so the security guard was ready and waiting. Macy and I had discussed the possibility that he would be there and the walk to the shop was nerve-wracking. She was scared she was going to get yelled at or punished. She was worried she wouldn't get any Christmas presents from Santa because she had been bad. I reminded her that she has made a lot of good choices this year, that she can't change what she did but she can try to make things right and do better next time. I assured her that I loved her but that she had done something wrong and needed to face the consequences of her actions. When she had to explain what she'd done to the shop owner, her voice broke and her eyes welled up with tears. The security guard explained that if she was older, she would have been banned from the mall for one year. 
After we were done in the store, we left the mall. Macy was over-acting like she was happy and I was kind of annoyed by it. I was tired and had made a second trip to the mall in rainboots of all things. Shouldn't she still be crying? Why wasn't her tail between her legs? And then she said, "I just want to feel happy again." And so hand-in-hand, we danced through the parking lot.
The desire to feel happy when you've had a shitty day really resonates with me. It's part of being human. When you overdraw your checking account, you're just wanting to escape the realities of your tight budget for a little while. And so you have some fun, and then your stomach drops when you see the negative balance. Reality comes crashing down and you have to figure out what to do. And when you make a plan and figure it out, you feel relief. You feel hope. It doesn't make the consequences go away, but in taking responsibilitiy, the shame evaporates and you feel free to face another moment, another day, another month. 
Macy reminded me of this tonight. That it's okay to dance through the rain after having a stern talk with the mall security guard. Life is hard sometimes. She wanted to feel good. She wanted to be in control. She wanted to get away with something for once. I totally get it. I'm learning to have grace for myself as a human being (shedding the baggage of trying to be perfect, better, a leader, a light, an example...hello, ministry baggage!) This, of course, has to inform my parenting. I can't be trying to practice self-love and then not extend that to my child. Her human moment was my human moment. And I am so proud of her. Grace is accepting the consequences and then releasing them to the wind. And if that means making a fool of yourself in a crowded mall parking lot, so be it.

Grace Is Real and Better Than We Think It Is

I internalized a lot of things as a child and young adult in church that may or may not have been intentionally taught to me. One of the things I got mixed up on was the relationship between pride and loving yourself. That somehow pride was really bad and led to ones inevitable demise (the "pride comes before a fall" scenario always felt very ominous and humiliating) and that we were only supposed to be proud of others (for their humility and service) and proud of God. And if we were too ambitious (boy, did that get thrown at me as a woman with ministry aspirations in the church of Christ!) or too happy with ourselves that somehow that made us proud and selfish. Everything was supposed to be about Jesus and then others. 
The problem I've found with this is that we can only treat others as well as we treat ourselves. Even that statement raises all kinds of rebuttal from my subconscious because I have treated others way better than myself for years. But if I'm really honest about that others-prioritizing from the past, I did that because I wanted others to treat me well, to esteem me and to give me their approval (which is how I would earn  Gods). As hard as it is to label that behavior negatively because it cost me a lot so I want to see it as good, prioritizing others in order to meet my own needs is actually manipulation and ultimately, a fascade. I know at the time I was trying to serve God, but I never could quite grasp how loved and acceptable I was in the eyes of God outside of my ability to show my faithfulness to Him with my good behavior and by encouraging others to do the same (ministry). 
Judging our faithfulness to God and our good standing with Him based on our behavior leads us to view others through the same lens. Suddenly we're not so sure about that person who got pregnant in high school or the couple who's getting divorced. Because if we can't accept our own lack of condemnation before God as His intentionally imperfect, beautiful human children, then we certainly can't offer that to those who are more demonstrably screwed up than we are! Turns out, this God will just save ANYONE. And what kind of stance is that? Is this another situation where you get an award just for participating? Inexplicably, YES.
As I've turned my spiritual life inward and discovered how irrevocably okay I am in and of myself, I've finally learned what grace really is. Grace isn't the voice that tells us that we're really terrible for sinning, but God loves us in spite of our behavior because He's so good. Grace is accepting our behavior as evidence of our humanity and our need for love, freedom, acceptance and security. That our humanness was not a mistake God made, but in fact, part of His design. He wants to be in relationship with "sinners." He has what He needs within Himself. He is His own community Father/Son/Spirit. We are not meant to be His equals. We are meant to be His companions, His friends, His children. 
This is not to say that our behavior is irrelevant. I recognize the temptation to see my viewpoint as saying "sin" is okay or doesn't exist. I'm still processing that because I think we're obsessed with sin and I reject that fixation. I guess I've landed at this point on the idea that Jesus took care of sins eternal consequences on the cross for all people for all time. And here on earth, the consequences are lived out sometimes very directly and sometimes completely arbitrarily. We can do our best to do right by our fellow man and not directly seek to do harm to others. But harm will come to us all as this is part of the repercussions of all being together on earth with different viewpoints, choices and levels of love for our fellow man. Plus, freak stuff happens. 
So, the consequences of sin, even in the here and now are not within our control. Thus, even by controlling ourselves as best we can, we will still sin and we will still experience the consequnces of others sin unfairly. If we're using our good behavior as security for a good life, we will be sorely disappointed. If I were to categorize the "sin" in my life now, I'm way more open to the "no-no" sins I was taught against (cursing is THE BEST) and way less compelled to commit the ones I find more serious (dishonesty, seeking self in a way that harms others, greed, overconsumption of material goods and resources, stockpiling treasures for myself, self-righteousness, obstinance to growth or change) that were not really discouraged much in the church and in some ways strongly encouraged as "good stewardship" or "remaining true". 
It seems to me that a lot of "bad behavior" comes from "bad" feelings. Shame is a powerful tool to control our behavior because we so desperately don't want to be bad. And the punishment we self-inflict is words of our fallenness when we've acted in a way that's hurtful to others. The more that we learn that we are okay, the more we learn to respect the okay-ness of the people around us. Shame threatens us. Self-love gives us the validation that there is enough resources, opportunity, love, safety, adventure to go around. Yes, we need to take risks and work. But we don't need to take from others and work over our competition. We're okay. So instead of good behavior coming from feeling like shit, self-acceptance actually leads to more socially-conscious, holistic living because we are living out of excess and abundance rather than defeciency and scarcity. And we are better able to recognize the value of our fellow man.
Turns out, focusing on myself, loving myself, being kind, gentle and generous to myself leads me to offer those things to the people around me freely. I never quite understood why "You're bad and God is so remarkably good because somehow He finds you lovable" was good news. It always felt like a burden of holiness (that is was something we did rather than something we were given) and a total lack of grace for self. It felt like rules and duties and an endless need to be grateful for it. 
I'm coming to the baffling conclusion that the abudant life Jesus came to give was a real message of love. Not love with conditions, or in spite of its object, but that the object itself is worthy and beautiful and valued beyond measure by its Creator. So much so, that He tells us His stories of love, invites us to be with Him and showers us with grace. He calls us daughter and son and created this bountiful world for us to live in and share. The story of humanity not being an experiment gone bad with limitless problems, but being bearers of this unmistakable light, that gives us breath and peace and freedom. And that good news is lived out IN us before it can be lived out BY us.