A Big Fake

It’s really disturbing when you discover that most of the nice things that you do for others are fueled by the fake part of you that wants to make up for what the real part of you just said or did.

It hit me like a bad fish sandwich one night last week. I was talking to someone, and their facial expression led me to assume that perhaps I offended them somehow. I proceeded to go over in my head what I said that could have been questionable, and then immediately thought about offering my help to this person.  And that’s when it hit me.

I don’t serve to serve. I serve to keep people from thinking anything less than great of me. I serve to keep people from talking bad about me. I serve to keep people from being disappointed.

It happened again the night after that. There was some miscommunication which led to frustration between a friend of mine and myself, and on my way home I contemplated what I could do or say to make them like me and believe that I’m a sweet person. Because obviously they are gonna go home and bash talk the hell out of me for hours.

What’s that fun old saying? “You know what they say when you assume…..”

Shows how much faith and trust I have in my friends.

As grossed out as I am with myself right now, it’s almost kind of a relief. I think about the people I like the most. Typically, they can be real jerks, but there is something so genuine and honest about their butthole-ness. They’re not hiding the ugly parts of their personality. And to clarify, those people are not the same as the people who are jerks on purpose in an effort to push everyone away or to appear too cool for school. I can see right through that crap.

It’s exhausting when you live a life toiling day and night in hopes that everyone will be happy with you.

Would the world really come to an end if someone didn’t like me that much?

Will the ground crumble from beneath my soles if a friend went home and vented about how stupid I was?

Will the white horses with tattooed Jesus come swooshing down from the heavens if I failed to please everyone?

Well all of those things have probably happened a thousand times in my life, and yet… Revelation has not come to pass. Kurt Cameron is still making bad movies. Everything is still intact. Who I am is still fully there, even though I seem too blind to see it.

The true light, which gives light to everyone, was coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world did not know him. He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him. But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.  -John 1:9-13

I am God’s child. Period. That is all that matters. No one should be able to steal that confidence away from me, even in the worst of my offenses. Or shall I say, I should never allow anyone or anything to undermine my identification.

It almost makes me want to disappoint someone on purpose just to see what it feels like to not feel the NEED to please them selfishly. But I won’t do that.

The Sh-sh-sh-shakes

Yesterday a terrorist that looked like my child traded lives with him.

Granted, teeth are starting to plow through his gums at full force now. And he did have a rash on his little booty that was something awful. But my gawwwl. His discomfort propelled him into doing everything that he was not supposed to do with an iron will. I lost count of the tantrums by noon.

Several things happen when a day like yesterday sideswipes me with no forewarning from my periph:

1) I want to eat everything that is terrible

2) I want to watch everything that will make me feel like I am escaping

3) I get a jaw-clenching headache

4) The sh-sh-sh-shakes

5) I think of ways to sound extra desperate so that I can convince Daniel to come home

6) The thought of moving, much less working out, makes me hate life

7) I rarely, if ever at all, think to ask God for help

I can just hear the gasps of judgement coming through the computer screen as the perfect moms of America read this in complete shock and bewilderment. Praise God I don’t know too many of those. I’d punch them in their perfectly groomed hair.

Anyways, I feel like numbers 6 and 7 are pretty sucky. But besides being a sad state of affairs, I feel like they may be tied to one another in a way.

My normal inclination would have been to feel all of those things and follow through with them. But yesterday, somewhere in all of the frazzle-ness I mustered up enough life to work out. I ended up vigorously dancing for 25 minutes and burned about 200 calories. I also did 50 crunches, 15 in-and-outs and 10 push-ups. That’s incredible for a day like yesterday.

I also felt more peaceful spiritually. I was able to thank God for the day instead of dismissing Him all together. That’s incredible for a day like yesterday.

The physical and the spiritual seem to ignite each other. Sometimes when I feel like giving up on health, God encourages me through prayer, another person, a picture, something I read, etc. And sometimes when I don’t feel like having a relationship with God, exercise pushes me towards Him.

It’s pretty sweet. I don’t know, I feel like there should be a conclusion or a “moral of the story,” but it just feels really simple this time.

What kind of stuff defines days like this for you? What are you defaults when these days occur?

How do you fight it?

Happy Birthday Abe the…Toddler!

Today is a very special day, for it is my one and only little Abram’s very first birthday!

I am sad to say that he is no longer technically Abe the Babe, but Abe the Toddler.

This past year has been incredible. Abram was a surprise pregnancy that wasn’t taken all that well, and boy did I fight it til the very end up until the moment he was born. But that moment changed my life (ugh, now I’m starting to gross myself out a little with all of this mush) and my life certainly has not been the same!

Having a child has taught me things I don’t think I would have learned without one. The biggest lesson would have to be the realization of how naturally selfish I was and can still be at any given moment. It definitely taught me that I am a lot stronger than I give myself credit for. It’s like babies windmill kick you into adulthood, no matter how “adult” we may think we already are. And from what I hear, I’ve got plenty more lessons to learn.

But putting the lessons aside, it’s just been a blast. This kid is hilarious, and there is not a day that goes by that I’m not bent over with laughter from some form of entertainment Abram is providing me. And he’s only 1! I cannot imagine what he will come up with in the years to come.

My favorite part about being a mom is having the opportunity to help create a man. Abram may only be 12 months old right now, but one day he will be A MAN. That’s insane to think about. I want him to be the kind of man that intentionally loves the people around him. The kind of man that serves others, and that actually uses his gifts to worship in whatever form that may be. I mean, not gonna lie: hope that’s music. But it could be sports, writing, photography, organization, etc. I just want him to love God with all that he is and all that he has. You don’t meet those people everyday. Daniel and I have quite the responsibility on our hands. Thank God for grace and forgiveness, cause I know screw ups (and many of them) lie ahead.

Well now I’m just gonna cry. Happy Birthday Abram Isaiah Webb!