It Doesn’t Fit

Recently I started noticing that I would get really annoyed when my Senior Pastor (a very physically attractive woman of God) would post a new selfie of herself, or a picture of her with her Husband (also my Senior Pastor) on social media.  I confided with my husband that I was having this feeling every time I would see her posts and it bothered me.  For anyone who knows me, I am one of those people who sees beauty in everything, loves everyone, and is legitimately happy for others when those around me succeed.  I was really bothered by this dislike, annoyance, maybe even anger towards seeing these social media posts.  Why was I having these feelings?  What was wrong with me?  Was I jealous of her beauty? I hoped not.  Well, then what?

I sought God in prayer, searching for answers.  Over the next few days God highlighted my heart; I was in turmoil.  My dreams and callings weighed against my fears. In my evaluations of myself, I don’t fit the mold.  You see, as a fourteen year old I had a dream that I was speaking in front of a large crowd in a large venue, empowering others with the love of God, transforming mindsets and speaking with authenticity and authority.  Also in my teen years, I had visions of writing books that would help to simplify Biblical truths and encourage others in their walk and freedom in Christ.  In my twenty’s and early thirty’s I had many tastes of public speaking.  First, while serving in a vibrant youth ministry at my former church and second, as a public high school teacher.  I loved speaking for the youth, especially my time leading the Sunday morning Jr. High class.  I also loved teaching high school and I took pride in doing my best to make my World History and American Government lectures interesting and engaging.  Even for my Algebra 1 Support classes I worked hard to present the material in a positive and engaging way to a room full of students who had already self-determined they were “bad” at math (I did not agree with their assessment).  During this time I also had opportunities to express myself in writing. It may have been in the form of small devotionals for the youth at church or creating curriculum, but it was writing, and I enjoyed it.  In my twenties and early thirties, I was on track, I was influencing the lives of others, I had forums in which I could speak and write and I felt like I “fit”.

…Then came kids.

April 6, 2012, at almost 32 years of age, I held my son for the very first time.  Eight weeks early, he was in a hurry to arrive and as I held all of his four pounds, five ounces, I felt like a dormant part of my heart, that had always been there, finally beat for the first time.   I still loved working with youth, I still loved being a teacher, but now my focus changed.  Two years later when my husband had an opportunity to be promoted into management, we jumped at the opportunity for me to be a stay-at-home mom – a dream come true.  Being a stay-at-home mom is the most rewarding and challenging “job” I have ever had.  I truly love it! There are days though that I feel a bit out of commission.  My main audience and influence has changed as it now focuses around my two sweet boys, now ages six and three.

My desire to influence through speaking and writing has not changed, God is daily teaching me and molding me, preparing me for the next step but where I am now does not fit with the visions of where I think I should be.

I have unfulfilled dreams and callings.  It is not the right season.  It must not be, or I would fit better. I have been in a winter season.  I am growing, but all my growth is underground.  To the naked eye, and often even to the perceptions of my own soul, I lay dormant, fruitless.

I am not in my twenties anymore.  I am in my late thirties.  I am no longer a young adult, I am just an adult (soon to be middle aged – when does that start anyways?).  Month by month I see more gray hairs pop out near my temples.  I am no longer thin.  The stresses of my twenties – college, credential programs, and the first few years of teaching all left their mark on my body.  I am still beautiful but in a way that now includes lumps and bumps and a strong preferences towards sweat pants and leggings.  I was never the make-up and high heels kind of girl, but in my youthful glow, it did not matter.  I am still not the make-up and high heels kind of girl, but the results are now that I often look more like a typical Walmart shopper (no offense – I actually do like shopping at Walmart) than an influencer, speaker, author.

Back to where I began…I realized why I was having such a negative emotional reaction to my Pastor’s social media pictures.  It is because if she is the mold for what a woman of God, influencer, speaker, (and probably someday author) looks like, I will never make the cut.  Beyond the fact that my frame will never be hers, I am never going to be the make-up and high heels kind of gal.  It just not me.  My pastor is beautiful on the inside and out.  So am I.  Just in different ways.  Fashion and style come naturally to her.  On the contrary fashion and style are like foreign languages to me.  By the time I finally get a new style it is already on its way out and most high heels feel like cruel and unusual punishment to my feet.  If you ever see me looking stylish, chances are someone else picked out my outfit.  To this end, I need to release myself of trying to fit my ideals of “successful woman” and not hold animosity towards the women who naturally do.  I find encouragement in the story of David and Goliath found in 1 Samuel Chapters 16-17.

Then Saul dressed David in his own tunic.  He put a coat of armor on him and a bronze helmet on his head.  David fastened on his sword over the tunic and tried walking around, because he was not used to them.  “I cannot go in these,” he said to Saul, “because I am not used to them.” Then he took his staff in his hand, choose five smooth stones from the stream, put them in the pouch of his shepherd’s bag and, with his sling in his hand, approached the Philistine.

1 Samuel 17:38-40 (NIV)

If you are going into a battle, wearing armor seems like the right thing to do. Just like, with my aspirations, make-up and high heels seems like the appropriate attire.  But in the same way that David said “I cannot go in these”, I too am going to have to find my own way.  And for me, it is going to need to be much more casual.

Here’s to all of us discovering who we are, celebrating our individuality and realizing that if it doesn’t fit, we probably shouldn’t wear it.

Blessings

 

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