Misty Garrison » Gathered Fragments

insecurities.

A couple of the responses that I have received lately got me thinking about this quote by Theodore Roosevelt, “Comparison is the thief of joy.” And the pain that follows after joy has been stolen. Either our own or someone else’s. And what exactly is feeding this monster joy stealer. Insecurities. Yours. Mine. Hers.

In an email from a dear friend, “I love your blog but I’m NOT eloquent with my words so I will never comment (insecurities suck don’t they).” Yes, they do, friend. They suck the much needed encouragement right out of a person’s life. And the blessing a person would receive from giving that uplifting word to someone desperate to hear it. And it almost makes me angry that we allow insecure feelings about ourselves to keep us from being what others around us need. Because, of course, we are too busy pretending (covering up the truth of who we really are, how we really feel and the life we really live) to risk reaching into someone else’s hot mess. We might get found out, or perhaps burned. By the truth. Yours. Mine. Hers.

And then this comment on Facebook, “I know it comes from God and he’s calling me to take the next step in my faith but my scared self can’t quite take the leap of faith an instead stays where she’s safe yet my heart aches for the community and friendship that I know others like me would love to have yet like myself are too afraid to take the leap.” And we stand across the room from one another desperate for companionship but too scared to admit it, so we continue to sail our ships alone and pass each other by even as we are both sinking. And perhaps all it would take is a simple, “Hello.” Or maybe asking, “Want to take a ride in my sinking ship? Maybe together we could bale water & repair the holes left by life. And watch the sunset wash glorious light over the water and our broken vessels.” Yours. Mine. Hers.

And my friend, Jess, has written some beautiful words of encouragement & challenge on this subject here.

And I can’t help but wonder why we are so afraid to love each other. Or more accurately, to allow others to love us. And what would happen if we all just took a sharpie and wrote our crap on our foreheads and got it over with already. The exhausting facade upkeep could stop. Permanently. And perhaps we would finally be free to celebrate each other’s gifts instead of allowing them to make us feel less than. Because, if you think about it, what are we really risking? Life together instead of loneliness? Is it really worth protecting ourselves if we end up sitting on the porch swing all alone?

And the way I see it, we have…

…cancer to beat.
…husbands to keep.
…children to raise.
…supper to cook.
…wounds to heal.
…homework to complete.
…marathons to run.
…orphans to rescue.
…widows to care for.
…justice to seek.
…parents (and God forbid, children) to bury.
…faith to doubt.
…obscenities to shout (at least in our head).
…friends to encourage.
…coffee (or tea) to drink.
…laundry to wash.
…neighbors to love.
…life to live.
…forgiveness to give (and receive).
…dreams to chase.
…blessings to count.

Yours. Mine. Hers. But wouldn’t it be better if it were “Ours” instead? Together. Insecurities and all.

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  • Disney's World - So much better together!! If I could do it alone, I wouldn’t need Christ and together, as a community…. we are the body of Christ.

    Thank you for not giving up on this conversation. I so desperately need it!!!
    ReplyCancel

  • Tasha - I loved this post! Thanks for sharing! One of the reasons I’ve so enjoyed reading through these difficult conversations is that you are honest and bring humor into the mix. The whole comment about writing our issues on our foreheads had be laughing and realizing how helpful that could be.

    Oh, and I’ve been reading the blog you recommended. Boy between her story and yours I am so encouraged. I’m in the middle of her 31 days of letting go. For those curious, you can find the middle of the adventure I’m talking about here: http://www.flowerpatchfarmgirl.com/2011/10/31-days-letting-go-of-past.htmlReplyCancel

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