I just blinked back tears and shook my head, "I can't answer that."
It was the kind of interview that one should ace. The most elementary of questions, and I'm scanning
the room with jetty eyes hoping the answer will suddenly pop out of the wallpaper or something. I mean
I could have given the rote litany of my achievements, college GPA, all the titles associated with my
life: child of God, wife, momma, blogger, ministry director, missionary, blah blah blah. A resume that
can stand on it's own. But me? I'm just falling over. Because I can't answer that question.
I've spent most of my life running. Literally. I'm not a runner, but on a bad day I can break out my
tennis shoes and run a mile flat to feel pain, to feel alive, to feel like I'm getting away from whatever it is that haunts me. And then there are all the less actual parts of my life that keep me waking up every morning, putting on "my face" whether I have somewhere to be or not, going and doing A, B, C...
D, E, F, G... because if I can just keep up this fugitive act!
I will not become that.
Whatever it is that I'm so afraid of.
And in the process I've lost sight of who I really am.
Is this midlife crisis material or what? Because I don't know. It's scary as heck, but also exciting.
It's so easy to spend all the time giving and giving in the name of Jesus -- taking care of my family,
husband, children, my people -- but when you run me through a scanner? You'll see the façade.
You'll see that it's easier to DO than to be. It's easier to RUN than to stay. It's easier to IGNORE
than address. It's easier to PRETEND than admit. I'm fine. Oh I'm fine. I'm really fine.
I AM NOT FINE. And that's ok.
Growing up is amazing. Can't wait to see what another ten years does for me!
It's humbling. I am not invincible. You all knew that, but I didn't.
I mean, I went to Target the other day commando. I was wearing sweats of course, but not being
"totally put together" is a big step for me. And let me tell you, it was FREEING! I also haven't
vacuumed my house in over a week, and I quit apologizing for still being in bed when my husband
comes to kiss me goodbye before work. Beds get made if they get made. Laundry gets done if it gets
done. And I have a hair appointment next week...
Hahaha. It's not THAT bad of a midlife crisis.
Running has done the complete opposite of what I imagined it could do for me. Instead of liberating
me from all my problems, it has literally chained me in a room with all the issues piled up because
I'm a professional when it comes to pretending everything is ok. But I'm done. SO done.
I've stood and I've fought and I've let this whole wide world break against me.
Let me say that again, against ME. I know what you're thinking. Doesn't she know Jesus?!
Why yes, I do, but I like to put Him out of a job a lot -- and for that I'm truly sorry.
If you run into me in public, you have the right to wonder if I'm wearing any underwear at all.
I'd say it's safe to assume that if you come over for a visit it's no longer ok to eat anything
off my floors. It's not about GIVING UP -- it's about giving it all up to the God who made me and
knows me and loves me and wants me to be happy in this life and the next.
I'm surrendering my orange fugitive kicks and laying down my arms.
I just want to be able to answer the question.
"Who are you?"
Not what is expected. Not what is to be avoided.
If you stood before Jesus today what would He speak over you?
Who would He say you are? I don't think "hot mess" is part of His vocabulary.
Could be wrong. But I'm thinking He would have praises to sing -- ones that you and I can't even
see ourselves. Let THAT be our song today as we dance IN our underwear.