Because when she closes her eyes, instead of seeing herself as the beautiful child of God that she is, she sees a tornado. A swirling cloud of dust and destruction that ruins everything it comes in contact with.
That’s how I saw myself for a long time. If I didn’t do something best, I must be the worst.
I equated actions and abilities with personhood. And it’s never what God intended…to be a slave to opportunities, experiences, or accomplishments.
It’s a painfully exhausting way to live. And thankfully, I’ve come a long way. But when I get tired, old images seep into the pores of my heart. And although I no longer see myself as a dark cloud of destruction that couldn’t possibly risk true connection with another human being, it’s times like these that I wonder.
I test the waters.
Is that old message true? Is there evidence all the hard work I did to see myself as capable and confident just a facade? Do I really have worth and value just in being who I am? Or do I need to perform, and push my children to perform, for me to be valued and lovable.
I pack my schedule relentlessly to avoid feeling inadequate. I stack accomplishments higher and higher, and it looks pretty nice. Before I know it, I find myself kneeled there. Maybe I start worshiping it. Maybe I offer it to God as if it’s something He wants. As if I could earn His love with my God-starved strivings.
And then it takes a weekend like this, where I deal with situations and circumstances completely out of my control, for me to realize how far I have drifted.
All this stuff I have been working towards, it’s good stuff, but it can never be my identity…my value…and it certainly can NEVER EVER be my God.
But he’s already made it plain how to live, what to do, what God is looking for in men and women. It’s quite simple: Do what is fair and just to your neighbor, be compassionate and loyal in your love, And don’t take yourself too seriously—take God seriously. Micah 6:8 MSG
So that’s it.
It’s really not about me accomplishing this or that. It’s about love and compassion. It’s less about taking myself too seriously (to an almost obnoxious level) and more about taking GOD seriously.
It’s less about what I can do, and all about what He can do. And that’s security. That’s confidence. That’s safety. That’s rest. Because even if I turn into that dark tornado cloud of destruction that I am so dang afraid of, He remains greater. If I fail (and I will because we all do), it’s okay, because He never will.
When she closes her eyes, she no longer sees destruction. She sees Him. She sees safe. She sees love. And she’s gonna be okay.