How Competing and Comparing Wrecks Stuff

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It's not much of a secret to anyone that spends time with me that I struggle with housekeeping. I'm not a neat freak - I'm far from it. I like things to look beautiful, that's the interior designer in me, but I've got no problem leaving my breakfast out on the table all day long, for the mere reason that I forget it's there - I'm way too busy thinking about how to rearrange the artworks on the walls, or what cushion I'll sew next, or how much better the room would look like if I changed the furniture around. Again. This year has been a couple of months of battling again my lack of cleanliness at times, and trying to do routines to help my home stay at a tidier level, complete with 10 emails a day from the FlyLady, and purchasing giant tomes on housekeeping.

Honestly, I do want to change. Sincerely, Sarah. 

I was driving around town recently thinking about all this and about the "people", who knows who they are, that have lovely clean homes where you could just pop in any old time and the floor wouldn't have crumbs and stuff would be put away. Where they've done their hair and their kids do what they are told. And I thought to myself "There's just no way I can compete with that."
It's a funny thought. Yet I realised that I often think it. "I can't compete". 
Which led me to think - why? Why do I feel that life is a competition? Why do I want to win at having the tidiest home, the most stylish living room, the most loved kids, the most laid-back attitude? (HA - can't have the last with the first ones by the way, EVER. FYI. I'm crazy.)

I've been thinking that particularly as women we either try to compete with other women, or we compare ourselves with other women - kind of both a different version of the same thing.

When I'm feeling like I have to Compete, I'm actually pushing another person down so that I can get above them. I'm wanting them to be less than, so I can be more than. I'm trying to make myself feel better by being better than someone else.
When I find myself Comparing, I'm pushing myself down. I'm making myself less, and making them more. I'm putting them on a pedestal, and I'm seeing only one side of them as a person. I'm putting a giant brick wall in-between her and I, destroying any hope for a decent relationship.

So I'm now trying to remember, when I find myself doing these things, to change the script. To write a different story.
Instead of Competing, I'm going to Champion. I will champion other women to be the best they can be. I will praise them, in front of them and to others. I will speak lovingly and generously about those things which I so admire in them. I will encourage them to be proud of who they are, their unique gifts, and who God made them to be.
Instead of Comparing, I'm going to Consider. I will consider that person, and her life, and her situation. I will see her as a whole person. Instead of comparing my clothes to her clothes, my hair to hers, my bible knowledge to hers, my home to hers, my kids to hers - I will consider her as a woman, wearing many different hats, and I will think about how I can care for her better. I will consider that while some areas of her life may appear to be wonderful, that there will be hurt and pain in her heart just as their is in mine. That she will need friends and relationships where she can be honest, just as I do. That there will be things in me that she may feel inadequate about if she chooses to compare, just as I do. Comparing gets me nowhere I want to go. The better path is that of grace, of love, and of mercy. And if I find myself comparing I want to catch myself, and choose instead to smile, look in her eyes, and ask her how she is, and choose to care about her answer.

I think that we try so hard sometimes to meet a certain standard, usually unattainable, and often fictional. We have an idea in our head of the "perfect" mother, or home, or attitude - not even perfect, sometimes it's just the "good" mother, home, or attitude - and we strive and strive to be this thing, without sometimes even considering whether that's right for us or not. We can be so busy - I know I can - looking to the left and the right checking out what everyone else is doing, that we forget to be present in our own life and to appreciate what we have.

The things that matter to me will not matter to other people. They'll have their own things that matter to them. We should be building our lives according to our values as individuals and as families, and thank goodness we aren't all the same - that would be terribly boring. I don't need to enforce my values on someone else, and likewise I don't need to feel threatened when I see someone doing well at something I haven't even got it in me to try.

Run your own race. Don't jump into someone else's lane and try to take over theirs. (A sporting analogy is kind of not really me, but Bianca Olthoff preached a wonderful message at the IF:Gathering conference about this and it has stuck with me.)

Here's to a year of Championing and Considering. May we really and truly know and understand Grace, for ourselves and for others.

xx Sarah

Currently reading: "Daring Greatly: how the Courage to be vulnerable transforms how we Live, Love, Parent and Lead" by Brene Brown. I just finished "Notes from a Blue Bike: The art of living intentionally in a chaotic world" by Tsh Oxenreider, and I can't recommend it highly enough - it's certainly influenced this post.

Currently listening to: "As sure as the Sun" by Ellie Holcomb. Be-a-u-tiful. The Joy the Baker podcast. The Art of Simple podcast.

Real life is harder than you want it to be

Image Source: Pinterest, taken from Etsy

After last week's parenting post, I spent a lot of time thinking and feeling confused about how on earth to keep writing about this wonderful and incredibly hard thing called being a parent. A friend suggested that perhaps writing in a storytelling style keeps things from sounding braggy or boastful. Which was stressful because I definitely do not want to sound any of those things! And I think she is right, the posts I benefit from the most have been personal stories, admissions of failure, of confusion, of the struggles involved in motherhood. I have actually found the "10 steps to being a better parent" posts hard to swallow, with a very small amount of exceptions.
I struggle with storytelling, because on the one hand it's something I really really want to do. On the other hand, I feel that a lot of my history that informs my life isn't my story to tell. It would be an invasion of other peoples privacy. So how do I tell some of the story, without telling the whole story, while still being authentic. Vulnerability freaks.me.out. Yet I know that it is the path forward for me in a lot of areas of my life. Don't you just love how God does that. Humph.

So this week I'm just going to lay it bare a bit, by saying that good intentions are so often just that: good intentions. We can write lists, make plans, write family purpose statements, have beautiful "We say we're sorry, we hug, we love" artwork on our walls, get up each morning determined to not say one mean thing before breakfast - and how often does it all just go to pieces within a few minutes. Lots of times.
Because - sheesh! - it's so tiring being a parent! Sleep deprivation is a killer and when you are exhausted it's so hard to follow through on anything other than to just survive. For everyone to be breathing at the end of the day.
And you know what? I think we deserve a medal every single day by just managing that.
Out of bed, clothes on everyone, food in mouths (mothers always last, if at all), lunches, out the door on time, car seat tantrums, I-don't-like-shoes/those-pants/hats/sunscreen/jackets tantrums, sign-in's, working out what to feed everyone, laundry: dear sweet Jesus help me, work, did I do enough hours, does my brain even function anymore... and that's only by about 10am.

It. Is. HARD. Really, really hard. 

So if you feel like your brain is made of cotton wool? Me too.
Feel like just quitting sometimes but know that just ain't an option? Me too.
Feel like you can't just admit any of this because people give you that look or stop talking or there's an awkward silence where you wonder if they're going to report you to someone for admitting you're having a hard time? Me too. 
Feel like every other mum has it together? Me too.
Feel like it's groundhog day and you just cannot see an end to the repetition? Me too.
Feel like just going to bed for like a whole day and a whole night without talking to anyone or having anyone touch you or ask anything of you? Me too. (Let's face it, for longer than a day).

You're okay. I'm okay. Our kids are OKAY.
You love your kids, you're trying, you're being a real person and you're doing it, you're doing parenting, and you're awesome and amazing and a superstar for it.
Go and feel GOOD about yourself. Go and tell those condescending, bullying voices in your head to SHUT UP for once while you have a cup of something that's your favourite and a plate of something else that's your favourite.
Because you will always look back on this time and be amazed that you made it through. And you're going to make it through. And so am I. And our kids will be just fine. And there's no point worrying about the "what if's" because they steal our moments from us.

Love and grace and peace and happiness from me.

xx Sarah

Looking for God in all the wrong places...

I just wrote a comment on Twitter that went like this: "Revelation of the night: God is not on Twitter. If it's God you need, and it always is, you won't find him on social media. Switch off".
When we are lonely and searching it seems that we take those emotions and searchings out to our 21st century version of the journal, to all of our 279 "friends" on facebook, and our Twitter followers, and all of their friends and followers. It's an insane way to live but it is so tempting. It's the equivalent of dangling the fishing line in the water, just to see what's there. I think we're always hoping that we'll get some amazing comment or connection, some incredibly deep and compassionate person will respond to us and we'll all of a sudden realise that No, I am not Alone In The World.
It's a big lie and a big trap because 99 times out of 100 no one responds, and our inner insecurities that say "No one cares" are confirmed, and for all of our social-media-fishing-line-cast-outs we end up feeling a whole heap more terrible than when we started out.
When we are in that place it is Jesus Christ that we need. He alone can fill the gaping hole in our hearts. If you think that being married does it, or having a "bestie" does it, or a great church, or parents living around the corner... well you're wrong. Loneliness is a snake that bites in any situation and the only cure for it is found in the arms of God.
I think of the Psalms and remind myself of how many times the writers cried out to God, "Why have you abandoned me?" Our emotions matter and they are real and sometimes it does feel like you have no one. But we do have God. He never leaves, he never fails, he is real and constant and he can be trusted more than our fickle feelings can.
If you're in that place of alone tonight, just know that you're not alone, and that it will pass. I write it for myself, in a season of blessing and of growing another life inside me, and yet it is in these seasons that I always feel the most isolated and the most lonely. This time I choose to fight my feelings and attempt to take it to God, and I will trust him with the next five and a half months and pray that it goes by quickly.
So perhaps it's naive of me to write a post like this, having begun by saying not to take your pain to social media, and yet here I am voicing it... but it's real for where I'm at and it may be my story for the rest of the year. God is here with me and I'll testify to it even when it hurts. At times like this there is nothing that a person could do for me, it is all up to God. Remember to pray for your friends, lift each other up and cover each other, because it is the Lord that we need and it is he that will bring healing and change our hearts.
Cyber hugs and love and prayers to all of you.
Sarah xx

Insecurity and accepting who you are... part one.

I talked in my very first blog post about a tendency I have had in the past to people please. I am certainly in a better place with this than I used to be, but every now and then the whole area of "what do they think of me?" rears it's ugly head. I have been feeling quite insecure these last two weeks, this could possibly be for a number of reasons: spiritual attack; I'm stepping out and saying and doing things publicly which is making me feel nervous about potentially being judged; I've been too busy and haven't spent enough time with the Lord either just praying or reading, or listening to a podcast. I thought it could be good to write about this because I know a lot of people struggle with feelings of insecurity and with feeling paranoid about what others think about them - what they say/do/dress like and how they live their lives.
When I use the term "people please" I mean the tendency to make decisions to do or say things based on what we think others would want us to do or say, rather than what we want to do or say, or what God would have us do. I think deep down most of us just want to be loved and accepted. Sometimes it's hard to imagine that we can be those things by just being who we are, so we try to adapt ourselves to suit our situation and the people around us.
I didn't so much pretend to be things I wasn't, I used to just hide. I found it really hard to talk to new people, at church or anywhere really, because I thought so hard about what I was going to say and how they would interpret what I'd said, that I'd sabotaged myself before I'd even begun! I've found nothing kills conversation more than overthinking it. Now I don't believe that we should shoot our mouths off either. But I think that when we are living in tune with Jesus and trying to be who he wants us to be, praying and seeking him, we can trust him to help us to be naturally ourselves when we talk to others.
The times when I have felt the worst about myself have been the times when my view of God has been the most twisted. About 5 years ago on summer holiday I read a book which opened my eyes to where my thinking had gone so wonky. The book is "A stone for a pillow" by I think my most favourite author, Madeleine L'engle. The book is about Jacob. The first chapter talks about how we as the western world have taken a "forensic view of God". Here are some quotes from that chapter:

"Far too often we view God as an angry judge who assumes that we are guilty unless we can placate divine ire and establish our innocence"

"This is not God, not the God of scripture who over and over again shows love for us imperfect creatures, who does not demand that we be good or virtuous before we can be loved. When we stray from God, it is not God's pleasure to punish us. It is God's pleasure to welcome us back, and then throw a party in celebration of our homecoming."

I always felt like I was on trial with God. Constantly measuring myself against some crazy, perfect, unattainable standard which I always fell short of. I was so insanely disappointed in myself, and though I knew in my head about grace, I knew God loved me, it had not clicked through to my heart. I'm thankful now that it has. It took time, it took prayer, it took good people around me. But God got me there. When I think of the Lord now and when I'm in his presence I feel 99% of the time just relaxed, free, at peace. I know he cares for me regardless of how often I read my bible, or study, or whether I said something I didn't mean that hurt someones feelings, or whether I lost my temper at my kids, or I thought about things that weren't healthy for me, or ate way too much chocolate when I wasn't even hungry. He doesn't stand in judgement towards me on those things. But if I want to talk about them and deal with them with him, he's cool with that too. And this is not to say that he isn't Lord, King, Master. The line is a tricky one but I think it pays sometimes not to overthink it. 

So I've been trying, this year in particular, to be a bit more me. I used to be very extroverted and I think that is part of who I am that I lost - the chatty part that laughed alot. I think that God would have me be that person, because that was who I was as a child, and I believe that's part of who I am - because the reasons I wouldn't act that way were full of regret and shame and guilt, and I don't believe that God is about those 3 things. God is love, God is hope, God is peace. But it's hard. I do go home sometimes after being out at church, or a practice, or visiting someone and have the "did I talk too much? why did I say that? I hope they don't think I'm being pushy?!" thoughts. But I need to learn to get past those. I know God has things for me to do. And I will not ever be able to do those things if I hide. Our pastor used a quote (he had said it was from Nelson Mandela, but I found online that this is a common mistake and it is actually from Marianne Williamson) in a sermon a few years back that struck home for me, and I try to remember it when feelings of insecurity arise inside me:

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others"

I'm done with playing small. If by being friendly and by being myself I alienate some people, then I will just have to accept that. I know that it's not my heart to hurt or offend. I know that I am just trying to love and welcome people. And over time God will help me grow and mature and perhaps I will get a bit better at saying the right thing and have a few less foot-in-mouth moments. Or maybe I won't. Because the more foot-in-mouth moments I have, the more it keeps me humble and keeps me running back into the arms of my God who is waiting to welcome me.

I think I'm going to leave it there for now, but I think I could be often returning to this subject.

xx Sarah