Sometimes things shake you to your core and make you question everything you think you know. I have had a few of those instances: my brothers dying and getting pregnant with my girls–both were unexpected blessings with unexpected being the key word (I may or may not have extreme control issues) are a couple.
Recently my daughter wrote an amazing blog, and I realized that in trying to raise her differently than I was raised, I managed to instill in her a whole host of different issues. She was born at a crazy tumultuous time in my life. Imagine your life at 21. Drunk? Partying? Well, I was crazy in love with a tiny baby while finishing college, getting an amazing job, never weighing more than 100 pounds, and planning a wedding to man I never saw. At least those were the idealistic balls I was trying to keep in the air.
I approached motherhood pretty much like this: I’m not gonna be like my mom. Period. Yesterday, my mom mentioned that her doctor had gained a few pounds and that she hopes “he doesn’t get fat as a pig.” That should clear up any residual questions about my weight issues. Fat is the worst thing you can be in my mom’s eyes.
I had a lot of self-esteem issues that took/are taking a good part of my life to sort out. I wanted acceptance and people to like me. My mom’s acceptance came the skinnier and blonder I was–the more I was like her. But, I like to eat, y’all. So, 100 pounds wasn’t in the cards for me. Although, this Fast Metabolism Diet might just help me get close.
Now, I love my mom, know that she loves me and was the very best mom she knew how to be. She was tremendously awesome in many ways, but she didn’t exactly excel in the body image department, and body image is a big deal to girls. I accept her for who she is; good grief, she lives with me. This isn’t about bashing my mom, that was context.
I didn’t want my kids to have self-esteem issues. I wanted them always to know how beautiful, smart, talented, precious, special and so forth they are. So, if they didn’t hear it from the world, you better believe they would hear it from their mama. I am not that mom who thinks my kids are perfect and puts them on a pedestal; trust me if you came out of my womb, I’ll put you in check. BUT, I am pretty sure that they all know I am always their biggest fan, cheering the loudest, and willing to do and be ANYTHING they need.
So that brings me to this earth-shattering revelation: Shouldn’t I have that same attitude about God? Shouldn’t I start asking what He wants from me? My sister gave me a book, Anything, by Jennie Allen, and more than any book I’ve ever read other than the Bible, it is changing my life. The premise: Be willing to do anything God asks of you. Do it when He asks.
Many times I’ve asked God what He wants me to do, but I don’t think I’ve been listening well enough. Instead, I look at the gifts He gave me and try to figure out how He wants me to use them. But I don’t have to figure it out. I just have to listen. The beginning of the week, God put two people on my heart. I said, “What do I do for them?” The answer was so simple: Pray. Last night, one of them sent me a message saying how much they loved coming to our church and thanks for inviting them.
Here’s the shake-you-to-your-core part: I’ve been waiting for Gabriel to swoop down in all his angel splendor with a harp and a shield (maybe because my name is Mary?) and announce some great calling for my life, and I have been missing millions of little whispers.
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