Brave, Anyway

Tag: faith

  • Fear and Wrinkles

    Fear and Wrinkles

    I spent the first 20 years of my adult life battling fear of one sort or another. What if this, what if that? How can this or that possibly work out? What am I going to do?

    Born in the seventies, my childhood fears were pretty standard for the time: dolls having secret lives as killers, will I have a date for prom, and the Cold War ending in nuclear war. (Whoever designed the drills where kids hid under desks when missiles were on their way to the east coast clearly did not understand science or psychology.)

    As the teen years turned into the adult years fears become a little more “rational.” At least adult fears were about things with some sort of likelihood of happening. By then I knew my face wasn’t going to peel off because of Poltergeists, so fears became about things like loss or failure or physical harm.

    For a while in my early adult years I was irrationally afraid to fly, which was inconvenient and annoying because I flew with some regularity. A couple of scary flights (one when even the flight attendant was praying!) combined with 9/11 had me convinced that I would be on a plane that Karen Black had to save or that careened into the Potomac River.

    By the time something actually scary happened, I was exhausted from dealing with stupid things and found myself in a real struggle to maintain confidence in God and myself. Three things specifically changed the way I think about fears and the way I react when I feel fearful:

    (1) The prayers of others for me.

    (2) Battlefield of the Mind by Joyce Meyer

    (3) Revelations about peace.

    I’ve probably read two dozen books about battling fear. I’ve read every scripture about fear. And I’ve heard it all from people and gurus: “if you give fear an inch in one area it’ll take a foot in that and ten others,” “you have to fight fear with faith,” and even “you’re a Christian who knows where she’s going so you have nothing to fear in terms of death.” (Side note: never, ever say the word death to a person telling you they have fear.)

    Those things are all true, but the two things that finally changed my life as it relates to fear are actually about peace. One of the last things Jesus said was that He was leaving us His peace (John 14) – He understood that fear is a part of the world we live in and He knew that peace is one of the things we’d need the most. And secondly, the words of Moses in Exodus: “The Lord shall fight for you and you shall hold on to your peace.”

    He left me peace and it’s my job to not let it go.

    Or, I have peace and I just need to keep hold of it.

    I loathe fear. It leads to bad decisions, stolen time, stolen happiness, failed businesses, broken relationships, goals not reached, and on and on and on. Life wasted. Lives wasted.

    I cannot afford to live in fear any more, regardless of the news or of viruses or of wars or of presidents or of dictators or of sickness or of disappointment. I have to do what I can do – pray, donate, use my voice, wear a mask – and relinquish the rest. I have to hold on to my peace. And maybe if I do that and others do, too, we’ll even be able to help spread some peace.

    I learned this week that some people actually fear wrinkles and aging! So many people, that the fears have names: gerascophobia and rhytiphobia. My first reaction was how ridiculously vain and silly. But they’re really no more silly than the fears I had – all fears are a distraction that prevent us from really living.

    I sometimes wonder where we’d be or what I could have accomplished if I had learned my lesson about focusing on peace instead of fear sooner. Maybe I’d have a lot fewer wrinkles! But those wrinkles are also my reminder that I have laughed way more than I’ve scrunched my face in anger or fear, and that I’ve smiled way more than I’ve frowned.

    About to start a theme park ride, way outside my comfort zone, so I documented what I briefly thought might be the last ever photo of me. More wrinkles coming soon!

  • Keeping Myself Honest

    My journal entry from January 19, 2014, was called Keeping Myself Honest. I wrote it and then shared it because I really wanted to not wimp out and I thought I might.

    I have been thinking about going back to church.

    Since Audrey was born, I’ve only been a couple of times – early on to show everyone we were OK, then once a year later to have her baptized.

    Some people know I haven’t been attending and some people don’t. I’m ashamed of it, so I’m pretty good at hiding it. Truthfully, I think I am closer to God now than I have ever been. I pray about everything, all the time. I just don’t go to church right now.

    Why did I have Audrey baptized in a church I haven’t been attending? Tradition?

    Because I still believe in God. And because I want to cover her with some sort of protection shield – she’s God’s child, so with that protection she can’t be sick or overtaken by illness.

    But God’s children sometimes do get sick. I, of course, know that. I’ve seen people much more faithful than I who had a much sicker child than mine was. People much more faithful that lost their child. People with n    o faith at all, or who have the “wrong” God,  whose children got a horrible diagnosis but were healed – or who never even were sick! So who did something right and who did something wrong? Why were some people’s children healed and some not? Was it luck of the draw? Is it something the parents did or did not do? What is the secret? And why haven’t I under covered it yet?

    I was a pretty good pregnant person – I didn’t eat junk all day, didn’t smoke, etc. Yet people who treated their bodies horribly were having healthy children while Audrey was in the NICU. People who didn’t want children were having healthy children. I’ll admit I wasn’t a happy pregnant person. I didn’t feel well and I was grumpy to say the least. Was that it? But then why Audrey – I was the same way with Ella and she’s fine.

    Was it the oats I sowed in my younger years? Perhaps I was being punished for those. Was it the cheese I ate, the painting we did in her room, the water I drank from the tap, the chemicals in my lawn, or the fact that I laid more on my left side than my right?

    Was I not really as good of a Christian as I thought? Was God disappointed in me? And if so, seriously, was THIS the punishment?

    No, of course not. I *think* I have finally resolved that the answer is pretty simple. We live in an imperfect world, and sometimes really crappy things happen. It just is. Some people lose their children and some people don’t. Some people have children with medical issues and some don’t.

    So why not go back to church after this epiphany? Because of intense emotions. Shame. Anger. Thankfulness. Sadness. Love. The desire for anonymity.

    Shame: I have spent a lot of time wondering what I did to bring on the cancer diagnosis for my child. Other people have to wonder the same thing. How horrible must they think I have been at some point in my life?

    Anger: I have been a Christian my entire life. Not that anyone deserves a cancer diagnosis, but seriously this is what I get? Aren’t I owed something a little better than that?

    Thankfulness: I am so grateful, every moment of every day, that Audrey is healthy. When I walk into the building that we call church, sometimes I am so overwhelmed with gratitude that my eyes fill with tears. Just as I don’t know what I did to deserve the diagnosis, I also don’t know what I did to deserve the miracle of healing. It is humbling, to say the least.

    Sadness and Love: These two are uniquely tied. There are people at church that truly care about me, that I have known my entire life. They sent me cards/texts/messages that conveyed their love and hope and faith, and I cherish each one. But what I can’t get out of my memory is the looks on their faces during those early     days. They would see me and immediately their countenance would change. I could see their pity, and I still hate that. I could see their sadness and concern, and I am still overwhelmed by it.

    Anonymity: Sometimes I think it would be great to just meet all new people who didn’t know and who wouldn’t make me feel all these emotions. Do people know I will never be the same again and would the people I grew up with be disappointed by that? Is that a failure, not getting back to your old self? Does everyone see us through the lens of the cancer Audrey had? Of that time in our lives. Do I? I think maybe I do and that frustrates me.

    Did you notice that I didn’t say “Audrey’s cancer?” That was purposeful. I don’t want to speak anything negative or even slightly acknowledge in my speech that the cancer is Audrey’s. It most definitely is not. Call it superstitious. Or call it the southern Pentecostal belief that words have power and can work for good or bad. Call it neurotic or silly or sad. I believe it’s a bit of all of it, and frankly if I read somewhere that a daily ritual of hopping on one leg while singing Mary Had A Little Lamb had worked to keep someone else’s child cancer-free I would probably do that, too, just in case.

    I am thinking about going back to church, because I need to be fed. I am thinking about going back to church because Ella and Audrey are missing out on something that is an important and fun part of childhood. I am thinking about going back to church because Ella is asking more and more questions I need help answering. I am thinking about going back to church because I think this range of emotions may never go away, or at the very least will not get better without exposure over time. I am thinking about going back to church because I can now give support and not just take support. I am thinking about going back to church simply because I miss it. I am thinking about going back to church because I’ve realized that there’s not a point at which I will be my old self again, and that that’s not a weakness.

    I am sharing this simply to keep myself honest. I am going back to church and am not going to wimp out.

    Thankful I did not wimp out – I am stronger and better and happier because of it. Thankful that God did not – and will never – give up on me. Thankful that Audrey is a cancer survivor. Thankful for all the people who supported us and loved on us during those early years – many of whom I still get to hug on Sundays (they must be tired of waiting for me to get to real adulthood). Thankful that my girls both love Jesus, and for all the people in their village who teach them and guide them and pray for them. Thankful for the beautiful historical building that is my church and for the beautiful group of people who are my church – whether we are gathered together in person or online, the words of Matthew always come to mind: “where two or three are gathered together in my name, I am there among them.”

  • Promise

    Promise

    A year ago at about this time I was mulling over what my word for 2021 would be. The word that kept coming to mind was promise, but I dismissed it over and over again. In the middle of a pandemic with virtual school, not seeing anyone in person at Christmas, and vaccine rollout looking shaky, I wasn’t feeling the word promise.

    On New Year’s Eve I thought that maybe my word would come to me in the first few weeks of the new year. And I even thought that maybe every year didn’t need a word and maybe 2021 just wouldn’t have one.

    But then all throughout this year, things that I’ve been talking to God about for a very long time, things that have been on my heart but I’ve never spoken out loud, even some things that were important to me at a time but I’d since forgotten about have started to happen or fall into place. And each time, the word promise has come back to me and lingered in my thoughts.

    And I realized something this year…that I had stopped actively believing in promises. It wasn’t a decision I made at any point. It just sort of happened over time. As life happened, I guess. I still believed that prayers had power and that God answered prayers, but I didn’t necessarily expect promises to be fulfilled.

    So I started researching God’s promises. As it turns out there are dozens and dozens of them, and I even pretty regularly read and rely on them – I just haven’t been thinking of them as promises.

    * There is a plan for my life. Ephesians 2:10 and Jeremiah 29:11

    * I am filled with strength and courage even when/if I don’t feel like it. 2 Timothy 1:7

    * I can do hard things. Isaiah 40:29

    * I can follow my gut and trust my gut because God provides discernment. James 1:5

    * My children may have doubts and bad days, but they are always, always going to be children of God and know God. Acts 16:31

    * When I really mess up, God loves me anyway and nothing will change that. Romans 8

    * I always have a safe place, somewhere to hide. Psalm 5

    * Nothing that happens to me or around me is ever a surprise to a God, so He is not unprepared which means I am not unprepared. Psalm 139

    * God knows what I need before I ask and sometimes even before I know, and He’s got it. Isaiah 65:24

    * Literally even His name is a promise – Emmanuel means God with us and his name is a reminder of His constant presence as I walk through each day.

    In the last few years I’ve talked to God about everything from helping me fulfill my promise to get Ella a car, to living without fear, to providing the perfect helpers for the girls, to healing for hearts and bodies. In the last 12 months, He’s delivered over and over and over again – even with small desires like finding a beloved lost ring. He also prepared people and hearts and things just in time before some tough stuff. There are still things I pray about each day, several times a day, that have not yet happened – and my type A need-to-see-data-and-progress self is not great at waiting or with letting someone else handle it. I want to DO all the things all the time because why do things take so long sometimes??? But the truth is I’m not capable of the biggies, and God is batting a thousand.

    I’ve decided my word for 2021 was actually promise, and I even came across a new (to me) promise in words that I’ve read many times before but suddenly read in a new way. In the days leading up to Jesus’ birth, two women who dared to believe in miracles and promises got together to encourage one another. One of the things Elizabeth said to Mary is “Blessed is she who has believed that the Lord would fulfill His promises to her.” Luke 1:45

    These cloths with our prayers for the world and community will fill the manger in our church’s nativity.

  • Tough Talks

    Tough Talks

    Feast or famine. We’re all getting along gloriously, or annoyed and arguing all day. We find three pairs of shoes we want, or zero pairs of shoes that will be the needed match. The kitchen is full of desserts and we overeat, or we hate everything we see in the pantry.

    Tough conversations also seem to fall into this category. We can go for weeks or months without one, and then suddenly as the girls’ worlds get bigger in some way, I’m ambushed – sometimes caught still trying to map out what I should bring back up when a new subject pops up. What the heck did parents do before portable devices with a pathway to Google?! I rationally know I am not dumb, but I certainly feel like it pretty regularly. And I know the exact face I make when I know I am expected to speak but am out of my comfort zone, and four- letter-naughty words are rattling around in my head.

    Did you know makeup is tested on animals? I knew this, and yet I didn’t really know it. My go-to when unprepared is to respond to a question by asking a question, to buy time and assess the seriousness – a little but what have you heard? – but that didn’t even help here. She’d read a lot by the time she asked me. There’s no good answer for why humans would intentionally hurt animals, whether you’re trying to explain it to a person who doesn’t love animals or to a 10-year-old tender-hearted animal-lover. Cruelty is cruelty and it’s just not right. And no words can erase or explain the images that are so easily found on social media. So I landed on the old “when you know better, you do better” and sat patiently as she went through all of my products. Thankfully only four things ended up in the bad brands pile and a quick trip to Sephora fixed that. I was so proud to watch Audrey proudly tell the guy who greeted us that we were there to replace products by brands that aren’t kind to animals.

    Is abortion a sin? I’ve found that when I don’t feel certain in my answer, often because I am not really sure what I think or believe, that I just focus on statements that I am certain about. (1) Every woman I know who’s had one, whether they ultimately regretted it or not, remembers that day as one of the hardest of her life. (2) 1 in 3 or 4 women have had one, so we all know people who’ve made that choice and people who’ve made that choice fill our churches. (3) It takes two people to create a baby but abortion seems to be a sin of women only, and that’s just wrong. Whether the father is a loving counterpart or an abuser, he didn’t use birth control or tried to and it didn’t work, he drove her to the procedure or didn’t know the details, or maybe he was not around to even find out his counterpart was pregnant – he shares responsibility in the pregnancy and the outcome. (4) If we don’t lean toward empathy for people who’ve had to make this hard choice, no matter what choice they ended up making, we will never have real conversations with many of the people in our lives because shame thrives in environments of judgment.

    I feel weird about x. I hate when I don’t know context and I sense that if I ask a dozen questions to get the needed context I might frustrate the child and the opportunity for the conversation will be lost. If a situation makes you uncomfortable, even if it makes you seem silly to others, remove yourself from the situation. Always follow your gut. Additionally, if your gut says all is ok but something isn’t sitting right with a BFF, follow her gut. Maybe she’s more in touch with the universe today. Or maybe someone who would never be harmful to you would be harmful to her or someone else. Maybe it’s not even about physical harm; maybe it’s about mental peace. Follow your gut and support your tribe when they need to follow theirs. As a Mom or a friend or a colleague or a stranger, we need to support women following their instincts or advocating for who and what comes into their space.

    There’s no reason for this anxiety today. You’re right; today was a good day. But anxiety is not always about what’s happened today. Sometimes it’s about what happened a while ago. Sometimes it’s about lack of sleep or a good meal, sometimes it’s about overstimulation or a trigger, and sometimes it’s just about brain chemistry or hormones. Anxiety isn’t always going to make sense. Time spent in the moment overanalyzing all the reasons it may be happening or shouldn’t be happening is time spent poorly – time spent on how we help someone or ourselves get back to peace is time well spent. Sometimes we will really want to do things that will be a struggle for someone we care about. We can do them on our own or not do them – but part of loving someone with anxiety is not expecting them to do things that will cause them stress and helping them feel safe enough to communicate and to create boundaries, without fear of our reactions.

    Tough conversations make me second guess myself in ways I never do in other areas. Why did I take classes like Women in Cinema or Art History?! I should have been in classes like Explanations for Life’s Big Questions and Appropriate Responses to Drug and Alcohol Questions at Each Age Range.

    Just as I was overthinking all the ways I could maybe go back and touch on a few extra points without being annoying, I found my “Kindness Is” shirt in the mailbox (check out Kind Cotton!). I’d forgotten I ordered it, but it arrived at just the right time. Perhaps as long as we teach our kids the core things, and keep focusing primarily on those, we don’t always have to overthink so much.

  • You’re Way Too Old For This

    You’re Way Too Old For This

    Supposedly, it happens to the best of us. The words that made us roll our eyes when we were 12 come out of us, directed at the next generation of children…who inwardly roll their eyes at us.

    You’re way too old for this I recently said. And almost immediately thought ugh, I hated hearing that.

    You’re way too old for this was one of my Dad’s phrases, and I guess it’s now one of mine. So perhaps the days leading up to Father’s Day were the perfect time to reflect on the things in my life that I am way too old to still be dancing around or allowing, or not admitting or not dealing with.

    Sometimes what we think is wrong. It happens to all of us. That’s why we have to think about what we think. Which brings me to another gem of my Dad’s. THINK about what you’re thinking and thinking about, Beth. And think about what you’re putting into your mind. I think at sixteen, he probably just wanted me to stop listening to Madonna, but those lessons are still important at 47 – and it turns out that when I think about it, there are several things I am way too old for.

    I am under no obligation to listen to a steaming pile of wrongness. The moment we realize how off-base or wrong someone is, it’s OK for us to stop them right there – to protect the space in our brains and hearts, so our time isn’t wasted, and/or to stop others around us from being hurt, distracted, angered or upset by ridiculousness. We might sometimes choose to hear the whole thing out, but we’re not required to. Politeness does not make one a nice or good human. We don’t owe anyone an audience, and we’re not bad humans if we don’t give all words or energy a space in our brain.

    I don’t have to have people in my life who contribute negativity. I am also way too old for that. No matter who they are, or how good they are in other ways, or how long I’ve known them, I can wish people well and not have them in my day to day life – and that’s OK.

    I am also too old to continue thinking I can change or control other people. We can’t threaten or will or shame people into making decisions we think are best for themselves or those around them. We also can’t legislate people into being good or into heaven.

    Sometimes what is wrong for us, from caffeine after 4 pm to a beer after work to taking a knee to owning a gun, is OK or even right for others. I am way too old to be assuming the way I need or want to live or behave is the only right or good way.

    I disconnected from a number of people in the last election cycle because I could not see past their vote to see or recall the goodness in them. That was a mistake, and I am way too old to forget to focus on the goodness that is in most people. We all are so much more than our votes, mistakes, neighborhoods, family structures, job titles, and perhaps even what we and others think.

    I am way too old to be living in an unreal LaLa Land, where I embrace what I want to be true instead of what is. I can have hope and goals while still being realistic about where I am or where we are. I have a child who battles anxiety and instead of thinking I can manage or love that away, I must take action to help her and us so we can all live our best lives. I have a child who’s driving and will go off to college in just two short years – I can keep her from ever leaving the house to keep her safe or I can prepare her to navigate the world, and to have fun while taking some risks, and to love herself anyway when she makes mistakes.

    I am way too old to be putting off some of the items on my bucket list. I am way too old to be making excuses for not getting out to walk or taking the stairs. And I am way too old to not be honest with myself about my mistakes and where I need to be better.

    Happy Father’s Day, Dad. I may have been rolling my eyes, but I was listening. I’m just still a work in progress, while it seems like you’ve been a finished product my whole life. The youth bible you gave me when I started high school, that’s been old and worn for quite some time, still stays right on my nightstand with my more adult translation – because I am way too old to still be doing a lot of things, and because one thing I’m never too old for is reading and thinking about the scriptures you spoke and speak into my life, and that you highlighted and underlined for me.