I can't believe what I used to do years ago.
Each September as soon as Naomi would return to school, I'd put on my 'business face.' I'd dress-up and make-up and then leave the house in the car after Naomi walked out the door. I'd shop and run errands--some real, some made-up-- trying to appear efficient and important and as busy as all my friends. I wanted everyone to know I took my homemaking seriously and that I treated it like a 9 to 5 job. I was 'just a housewife' and I was so concerned about how other people viewed me and all that I did.
Good grief--it may as well have been Halloween with all the pretending I was doing. Talk about insecure.
I've recalled all that play-acting lately, how it felt rather like being an actor in front of an empty auditorium. I mean, who really cared about my supermom-pretending? Who watched me and felt impressed? That is, who besides me?
No wonder I was so often unhappy. So often I was untrue to myself. So often a phony, trying to be someone I only thought I wanted to be--and never being empty enough of myself so that Jesus could be seen.
It's hard for Him to shine through the fog of pretence.
And it's nearly impossible to accept and love other people right where they are if I cannot first love and accept myself right where I am.
Why do we do this to ourselves? (I'm glad you asked.) For me, I couldn't accept that I was just fine, what I enjoyed was as valid as the things other people liked.
And to God I was as valid as everyone else, too. Just as I was.
Only when that became a fact to me--not just a nice thought I repeated over and over, but a fact--only then could I slow down and be me. And love who I was--and who Jesus is within me.
Now I love, best and most, the days I just get to stay home and paint walls, read, garden, embroider, wash dishes and dream. I am so grateful that now I'm perfectly content to play--to be real-- before my audience of One.
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