The Good the Bad & the Ugly - 071810

I struggle to know what to say. I’m hurt. Tears well up in my throat and I’m angry. Why does he always feel like he has to say something critical or grumpy? Why does he tear down instead of building up? Why do his words hurt me so much? 3 small words…cut me like a knife.

I say “You are too critical, just once it would be nice if you would say something positive” and I walk away. I round the corner and the tears are hot on my face, the sobs threaten to strangle me as I fight them off. I pull myself together because I have to smile and be on. I have responsibilities.

Standing smiling, having normal conversations. It’s all a facade. My mind is racing…was his criticism right?

Self-consciousness. Self-doubt.

Going through the motions, pretending everything is fine. Smiling. Small talk.

Self-criticism…Will I never grow up? Lord will I be an internal child when I am 54? 64? 74? 84? How do I get my skin to thicken? Do I really want that?

Add this to the pile of other criticisms.

I love him. That’s why I care what he thinks of me. I love him.

Anger instead of forgiveness. I need to forgive him. He is what he is. I can’t change that. It hurts. Lord help me to forgive him…not just for this one daggering comment, but for all the comments over the years.

Can I talk to him about it? He will only say that I am being too sensitive. AGH! Am I? Is it just me? Isn't he being INsensitive? Aren't his words critical, negative, harsh, rude? Isn't it natural to be sensitive to words like that?

Lord help me to use my tongue to encourage, to love, to bring happiness, to build confidence. Help me to filter wisely what I say. Help me to see where I have been stupid and hurt others with careless, harsh, words.

There it is…perspective. I am just like him. Flawed.

I love you! I forgive you. 3 words…heal the cut. J.

The Good the Bad and the Ugly - 05/18/10

Countless hours of my life have been wasted on ridiculous worrying, self-conscious fretting, obsessive perfectionism, and neurotic over-thinking.

Caught off guard by an unexpected question, not hearing fully what someone has said, or not being on the same wave length, I say something completely off the wall that doesn’t fit the context. Moments later my slow brain catches up and I realize what caused the confused look on the person’s face. Horrified by the socially awkward moment, the projector in my brain clicks on and every time this has EVER happened quickly scrolls by for me to relive again for the umpteenth time.

Obsession with my body has plagued me my whole life. Looking back I realized that in every phase of my life I have never been happy with my body…even when I was 122 pounds as a senior in highschool. This self-consciousness, and discontent with my body robs me of the ability to relax and just be comfortable in my skin. While I should eat healthfully, and be conscious of my activity level, I need to realize that these things are merely the physical aspects of who I am. What would happened if I instead, expended this wasted energy on accepting myself the way I am, building my character, or encouraging someone else?

This weekend during the process of painting the living room, I nearly ruined the joy by obsessing on whether my free handing the trim was good enough. I knew myself…if I had to look at the slips it would spoil it for me. This pressure threatened to undo any pleasure that could have been had. The job I did was sufficient…not perfect but good enough. There is such a fine line between wanting to do a good job, and crossing over into critical, exacting, joy sucking, perfectionism. When I relaxed and embraced my best, I was able to step back from the wall and feel the thrill of enjoying the nearly finished product.

The internal harassment has been deafening since Thursday when I indeed finished the back of the sweater only to find that it still isn’t the correct size, and I am going to yet again have to start over for the fifth time. Giving up would be my normal M.O. I can’t tell you the number of projects which have been laid aside after losing the will to complete the project due to discouragement, boredom, or distraction. This pattern is disheartening. Not this time! I will start again.

These things are proof that Christ is not at the center of my life. I am! When I fixate so acutely, zeroing in on my every flaw, I have taken my eyes off of Jesus. This is just another reminder to step off the throne and let God reign supreme in every aspect of my life. J.