The Power of #metoo
A couple of weeks ago I posted about our goofy doodle Maggie who had an unfortunate run in with something bigger and stronger. I’m happy to report that she is doing SO good. Even though she looks ridiculous with a cropped tail, she’s getting back to her normal, not so normal self.
I loved all the encouragement you gave me and I loved even more when some of you would tag me in memes, videos, posts on Facebook with the #metoo.
There would be nothing that I’d love more than to gather all your pretty faces around my sticky dining room table and share all the “me toos” that we thought for sure we were all alone in.
Each day I am making a conscious effort to refuse to be afraid.
I refuse to be afraid of what others think of me.
I refuse to be afraid of sticking my neck out there.
I refuse to hide what I’m feeling, what I’m experiencing and what I’m struggling with.
I refuse to isolate.
So, here’s some things about me that I curse about myself, hide, and allow the enemy to shame me for so so long. Ironically, I am fearful to post this… 🙂
My thighs rub together.
In the summer my butt gets so hot I literally want to sit in one of the freezers at Kroger.
I pee while in the shower. (It just makes sense to me…plus, 4 kids.)
I have diagnosed myself with OCD that causes me to compulsively pick myself, finger nails, pimples, scabs, etc.
I battled depression.
I am addicted to sugar.
I am an emotional and stress eater.
Hormones and children have caused weird hair to grow on my face.
I am guilty about being lazy.
At this point in the year I am giving my kids expired cheese crackers for snack just so I can “get credit” for packing a snack.
At this point in the year I am unconcerned if my kid’s clothes match.
Or how many days it’s been since Phoebe’s hair has been brushed.
I am thankful for Russell Schools feeding my kids lunch and I may or may not have had to use tax refund money to pay off their serious lunch charges.
I am desperate for God.
And His grace.
And because there was a morning I wanted to punch my teenager in the throat for snorting, sighing, stomping off, and slamming the basement door because he “knew I wouldn’t remember to stitch up his shirt.”
I’m desperate for God’s mercy.
That’s A LOT of “I am’s”
But I AM.
Who was and is and is to come.
Who has given me all authority to be confident and fearless and unashamed.
The same I AM who put the same Spirit in me who raised Christ from the grave.
The same I AM who said “Fear not, for I have overcome the world.”
The same I AM who calls me to not allow fear to boss me around, to pull away in embarrassment of thick thighs from the pool and making memories with my sweet babies.
Even the teenager who is literally me as a teenager, riddled with insecurity and fear and sadness.
Life is going on all around us.
Whether we are held up in our house feeling sorry for ourselves because “we’ve screwed up again” or if we are living a life wide open despite our fears.
Life is going on.
Let’s go to the party God’s invited us to, get over ourselves, our fears and start to believe God for who He is… the Great I AM.