The past few days I’ve been struggling to feel worthy of peoples’ time, energy, and love.
I’ve been walking through a season where I feel like a failure at everything I even try. Including but not limited to my marriage, my friendships, new ministry opportunities, my CNA class, my job.
Which has made me feel like I should just give up.
Why even try anymore?
I shared all this with Jon the other night. I cried a lot. I told him how I felt forgotten, how I felt worthless, how I felt like I just didn’t matter.
We talked about how I have learned to take expectations off everyone else other than myself. I let others make mistakes and disappoint me without making them feel bad. But that grace and love that I have for so many others, I often don’t extend it to myself.
Let’s be real: rarely do I extend it to myself.
Instead, I have these high expectations that I should be the perfect wife, daughter, sister, granddaughter, friend, Christian, worship leader, homemaker, and employee.
But. I can’t.
I’m slowly realizing that all the expectations I’ve placed on myself are impossible to live up to. I will literally kill myself with anxiety and fear of failure and heartache if I continue living this way.
Jon was asking me questions last night about what I thought I could do about making a change. How can I put a stop to the anxiety?
I had no answer. I just wasn’t sure what to say, or even how the Lord would want me to move forward.
This morning, as I was sitting with the Lord in the playroom at work, He reminded me of a blog I had written about 2.5 years ago. A blog from when I was on the Race about a Cambodian man we met one night. “His name is Seen.”
And this is what Papa said to me, “Remember Seen? I saw him. I saw him in his blindness, both physically and spiritually. I saw him where he was at, and I was and still am willing to sit with him there. Sweet Beks, I see you too. I SEE YOU. I see you in your pain. I see you fumbling around, trying to figure everything out. I see your struggle to find balance. I see your desire to follow after me in everything that you and Jon do. I see you. All you need to do right now is rest. KNOW that I see you. Rest in that truth today. Stop striving for perfection. Just be. Just be seen.”
So that’s my goal. To just let myself, and all the imperfections and all the parts of myself that sometimes I try to keep hidden from everyone, including Jon, be seen.
It’s not easy. It’s definitely hard to just let myself be seen. Because I want to present my best to others and the Lord.
But the Lord doesn’t want my best fake self. He wants my humble self, the one that ugly cries, the one that is stubborn beyond all belief, the one that doubts more often than she cares to admit, the one that struggles to keep her tongue in line. Because it’s that same self that loves to the deeps and speaks intimately with the Lord.
Here’s to being seen.