Knock, Knock

Today I have been visited by an old friend of mine: doubt. I'm sure you have met him. He's a clever cat, always there, consistent, patient, just waiting for that one thought. That one moment of weakness where you consider the lie as truth.

Yesterday, a friend, and someone for whom I have great respect and love, made a joke about the fact that I don't act my age. So true. And completely harmless, until I get home and am by myself for five minutes and begin to obsess. What do these people think of me? Do they think I'm stupid? Silly? Shouldn't be respected? Unworthy of them?

Yes, I confess, this is how I operate. Every conversation, every situation, I replay on a continuous loop to find some underlying meaning or intention, or to confirm what I already believe in my core: you don't really like me. I have no extrinsic value. I am merely taking up space and oxygen.

This journey toward realizing my own self-worth has been unbearably long, filled with anxiety, frustration, and a lot of tears, (I'm getting weepy in my old age), but the rewards are what keep me from opening that door on days like today. When God shakes me out of my inner-turmoil coma and shows me how He used me to impact a child's life, change a perspective, or how He turned my sacrifice into something far greater, I live for these moments. I guess you could say it's my new addiction.

There is, however, a greater story here. And that is, what should I look like? We generally ascribe certain things to my age, (marriage, kids, career, home, stability, etc.), but what's the truth in them? Honestly, there isn't any. There's nothing wrong with any of it, so don't misunderstand me, but these things can be, (and typically are), as selfishly driven as anything I've ever done. All of these "trappings" are the sign of a grown-up, a person who has made the right investments, worked hard, claimed their "40 acres and a mule," if you will. It's the American dream and, at its core, it is a very dangerous one. How could that be dangerous, you ask? Because it leads to self-sufficiency and pride.

I really struggle with this "ideal" that people put upon me, (and, for years, I put upon myself), that I had to live a certain kind of life to be respected or appreciated. It's not so much my own self-worth anymore as it is the people I see hiding behind these mostly "surface" identifiers. I just want to jerk them up from that job or house they're hiding behind and say, "see, you were meant for more."

And don't get me wrong, marriage can be a great and godly thing, but with a sixty plus percent divorce rate among Christians, (higher than the national average), we've made it either a hurdle for approval or a selfish investment. And kids? If I had the resources, I'd adopt and foster as many as I could tomorrow. I know how it feels to be left alone in this world. But I'm not there yet, (hopefully someday I will be), and until then I will support my friends who are parents, giving them breaks, and being an example of an individual who stands strong in Christ.

All the other stuff? I doubt that God will ever leave me in a comfortable place for long, so why bother. This world isn't my home anyway, so it's no surprise that I have never felt like I belong enough to want those things.

Now, to set you all straight so my inbox isn't flooded with comments: I am not judging any of the things I've mentioned here, (though I do dare you to ask yourself the question, "did I really need that mercedes/lexus/bmw, or could I have bought a Honda and been just fine, therefore freeing up more resources for God to use?"), I understand that people are unique and have different levels of need. And God really wants us to enjoy His blessings, but you should ask yourself to what extent your blessings are for you and for you to bless others.

I do challenge you to ask yourself the questions that I am challenging myself with: what do I REALLY need? What could God do with me and the things He has blessed me with if I got out of His way?

I am sure that doubt will come a knockin' again soon, possibly before the sun reaches the horizon, but I will simply lock the door, sing His praises and dance like the barefoot fool the world, (and a lot of the church), thinks I am.

Cause this is God's house. And He don't take kindly to strangers.