The Inner Critic

Sometimes I think that, the emptier my bucket, the louder the voice of the "inner critic" becomes.

Now, I'm going to ramble here for a bit...you don't have to read it...I'm writing it more for myself than for anyone else...

I'm trying hard to let God fill my bucket these days...I'm reading scripture and cranking (and crying to) worship music, and I hear God's voice pretty clearly. He tells me that He loves me just the way I am. That I'm beautiful -- not just cute or spunky, but b-e-a-utiful. That I'm intelligent, and that He made me that way -- that my brain is a gift, not a curse. That He has a plan for me, and that His timing is perfect -- and that I'll be totally blown away when I look back at what He's done for me.

And, I'm grateful for where I am and what I've got and that He's helped me begin to rebuild after years of being destroyed.

I "get it" that God loves every one of us. He loves our imperfections and flaws. He loves every little thing about us. He loves us deeply and unconditionally. I get that.

But, the Inner Critic seems to be telling me lately, that He (God) is the only one. That no-one else could ever or will ever have that level of unconditional, intimate, want-to-know-everything-about each other, love for me. Except maybe my mama. My brothers don't talk to me. My sister-in-law de-friended me. My dad won't stay on the phone with me for more than 5 minutes. And, with precious few exceptions, my friendships are pretty superficial. And, I'm starting to believe that people just aren't interested in deep, intimate relationships. Or, maybe they are, but they aren't really interested in getting to know "me" at all.

Interestingly, this is coming after I've just spent some good time over the past few months spending time with "me." Learning to enjoy my own company. And, it's been good...at least I thought I was...

And, this is coming at a time when I feel like God seems to be re-assuring me that I really was a good wife. That I really did try. That I really did pursue intimacy. That I really did communicate my needs and my hopes and my dreams and my feelings and that I really was interested in and tried to learn about his. I have struggled with others' perceptions of me in those areas...

So, I know this "Inner Critic" sure as heck isn't God talking to me. It's His big enemy, wanting to erode all the progress I've made. Wanting me to think that I'm un-lovable on earth. That I'll never be beautiful to anyone but God -- who thinks everyone is beautiful. That my intellect will always scare people off and keep them from wanting to get to know me. And, that if I don't shrink back into the coward and fake that's been able to "earn" the love (? maybe it was never love...maybe it was always just some superficial affection or tolerance?) of people that I thought were friends and family, then I don't stand a chance of experiencing that intimacy that I so long for with other human beings. Ironic, right? Because, that coward wasn't ever able to experience intimacy at all...I was too busy trying to be what others wanted me to be for anyone to ever know the real me.

So, before she beats me down, I need to drown out this Inner Critic. Shut her up for good.

I have no idea how to do this.

But, I think maybe it starts with asking God to get louder. And asking God to help me let Him fill my bucket. And admitting that I've been hurt and that it sucked and that its not "my fault" all the time. And letting myself feel that pain and then move beyond it because it's in the past.

Hmmm...Maybe I do know how to do this...

So, that's my prayer tonight. That He gets louder. And that His plan for me keeps moving forward. And that the hurts of the past stop haunting me. And that that damn Inner Critic goes away for good.

Spaghetti Logic

I've been thinking a lot about spaghetti lately.

Probably one of my favorite meals as a kid; and now, as a mom, I know why my mother made it once a week -- it's sooooo easy to make!

But, that's not what I've been thinking about.

A few years ago, there was a guy that worked in my group at P&G. He is a mathematical GENIUS. Seriously. Crazy smart. His job was to create and then maintain a highly complex statistical model for predicting how much "stuff" people would buy. He worked with another guy in my group who was even smarter. Smarter guy once tried to explain to me how smart guy created mathematical models. He called it spaghetti logic. Each equation had a beginning and an end, but they wound around all over the place getting from A to Z. They intersected each other in important, although seemingly inconsequential and unplanned ways. And, in order for the spaghetti logic to work, because the model was complex, there had to be multiple strands of spaghetti mixed in together...



Really, I've been thinking a lot about spaghetti logic lately.

Hang with me, if I haven't lost you yet...

I think life is like spaghetti logic...

When I was in high school, I met this girl named Julie. I was new at school, and Julie was so nice to me. She hung out with me between classes, and we became friends. One week, she invited me to go with her to a church youth group volleyball game. This was very strange to me. Playing volleyball with kids from church? This sort of thing just did not happen at my traditional Catholic church. I was a little worried they'd all be a bunch of "Jesus freaks." But, Julie was fun, and pretty normal from what I could tell, so I went. My mom took me to Julie's house, where her dad was going to take us to the volleyball game. I didn't quite know what to think of her dad. Bruce was so..."there." He actually seemed interested in talking to me, getting to know me. He smiled and paid attention when I talked and actually seemed to like what I said. (At this point in my life, having a conversation that did not dissolve into tears or screaming with a father figure was pretty foreign to me.)

Anyway, we went to the volleyball game, and I remember not really being sure what to expect at all, but, having a great time playing. Julie was a great hostess and never left me feeling alone or awkward about being a "stranger" among the youth group. Toward the end of the evening, I remember a guy getting up on a stage -- maybe he was a pastor or the youth leader, I'm not sure -- but I remember him talking to us about Jesus. Did we want to have a relationship with Jesus, he asked...

Hmmmm...this was puzzling to me. "Sure," I thought, "who wouldn't want that." I knew Jesus -- sang to him on Sundays and often had to fight back tears when I was singing...never could understand why that was happening (that's another section of the long piece of spaghetti that is my life...more on that later, maybe). "If you want to have a relationship with Jesus, pray with me..." He said. And then he went on to lead us to pray for Jesus to be front and center in our lives. I prayed with him that night. I think it was the first time that I ever really prayed that way. Fireworks didn't go off, and I didn't tell anyone that I had prayed that prayer that night.

Months went by, and Julie and I drifted apart. I had more "important" things to do like chase boys and work and over-achieve and life got crazy. I still talked to Jesus every day, but spent many, many years fairly lost and confused.

Years later, I met a wonderful woman named Jill. She worked with me at P&G. She was a few years older; I was expecting my first baby, and she had 3 kids already. She seemed to have her priorities right and seemed to know what she wanted to teach her kids about Jesus and God -- something I had been thinking a lot about since I became pregnant. Eventually, Jill led me to Vineyard Community Church, where I found Jesus again and began a life that has become increasingly more abundant with each passing year.

The same year I met Jill, I had met a guy named Tim at P&G, almost in passing, since he left P&G shortly after we met. A year later, Tim and I worked together on a project. A year later, Tim and I were friends, and were getting together with our spouses and a few others in a small group. A year later, Tim asked me into leadership in some of the work he was doing at VCC. Several years later, Nick and I picked up our life and moved to the Westside of Cincinnati for this crazy little church plant called Vineyard Westside where Tim is the Senior Pastor. A year later, I quit P&G to take a job at Seek, because I was convinced that God had something in store for me. A year later, I joined the leadership team of VWS. A year later, we're selling our house to steward our money differently and give more of our lives to what God is doing in this world.

Spaghetti logic...twists and turns and intersections that I couldn't possibly understand, anticipate, appreciate or expect. And, I'm realizing, when I let myself be "softened" like a perfectly al dente strand of pasta, God will twist and turn His spaghetti logic in amazing ways.

When I think about the number of twists and turns and intersections and the profound impact they've each had in my life, I'm humbled. It seems, some of the events that initially didn't feel important or significant at all turn out to be major turning points.

Amazingly, I've recently re-connected with Julie (Facebook is awesome!). Her story and her life is an inspiration and a testament to God's faithfulness.

So, next time you meet someone new, ask yourself if maybe God is putting together one big plate of pasta and to help you recognize the logic of why you and this other "strand" are intersecting.

Overwhelmed

I've been thinking a lot about being overwhelmed. I really over-use the word "overwhelmed." Lately, I've realized that I use it almost equally in two "opposite" directions -- I say I'm "overwhelmed" when I am exceptionally stressed, busy, upset; and, I use it when I'm completely awed by something amazing -- often something that God has orchestrated, created or revealed to me.

I'm going to make a brave resolution...

I'm going to reserve the word "overwhelmed" for those situations when I am truly awed by God's presence in my life -- where I feel submerged, sinking in his grace and presence...

That said, I've been overwhelmed many times in the past few weeks, ever since my SOZO experience, I've been having dreams and visions...almost too many and too much to piece it together enough to blog about, but I will soon...

I'm traveling this week...Cincinnati to Denver on Monday; Denver to San Diego on Wednesday, and home tomorrow by way of a quick layover in Salt Lake City. I've flown over the Rocky Mountains before, but this time, I was really overwhelmed by the beauty, majesty and expanse of the range. The bright sun shone on the peaks and cast shadows -- from the sky it looked at one point like a meringue covered pie, and then at another point, choppy, white peaked waves. As I was staring out the window at this glorious example of God's divine creation, I found myself crying...from the wonder of the beauty of the earth; from the gratitude for what I've been blessed to see; for the "small-ness" of me, and the bigness of God and the reality that I'll never be able to comprehend a love so big as His.

Someday, I hope I'll be able to spend a bit more time exploring the beauty of the Rocky Mountains up close. But, for now, I'm looking forward to the view from my seat at 34,000 feet tomorrow on my way home!

He won't relent...

I was on the west coast this week on a business trip. Since our flight didn't leave til late, Lane and I headed to the beach in San Diego to look around. As I walked along the coast, the waves lapped up on my toes and I did what you always see people do -- I ran to escape the cold water. At some point, I got used to the temperature, and started to welcome the feel of the waves on my feet.

I'm always struck by the breadth and persistence of the sea. It reminds me of how big the earth really is; and how mighty and powerful our God, who created it all, really is.

At VWS this weekend, we sang a song during worship with lyrics that remind us that God won't relent until he has all of us...and, as I was singing with my eyes closed, connecting to God and his spirit, I was back on the beach again....

The waves, I realized, are like him reaching for us...sometimes hard and fast and overpowering; sometimes gentle and easy. But never, ever relenting. Even when he has "some" of me, he still keeps reaching for me, washing over me, asking for me, refreshing me.

And, I realized just how much of my life I haven't yet turned over to him. And yet, even through all that stubbornness and imperfection, the waves never stop reaching for me...I need to not run away, let them wash over me.

Thanks, God, for such a humbling and awesome reminder of how persistent your love is...