It occurred to me last summer as I walked into that home daycare for a little speech therapy. It was a revelation, really. Then, and only then, did I start seeing my job in a whole new light. Perhaps God was using these 14 years of home visits to prepare me for something else. Maybe that something else wasn’t about speech therapy at all, but more about helping fellow human beings discover their voice. Maybe it wasn’t so much about articulation as it was helping others articulate their best selves. Perhaps it wasn’t so much about language as it was about breaking down language barriers so the heart of human souls could be revealed. Perhaps it wasn’t so much about pragmatics and social communication as it was about developing authentic relationship.

I knew it right then and there.

The Lord had invested years and years into my adult life so I would be prepared. For moments like this.

You see, He knew from the very beginning. He placed a yearning in my little girl heart. A longing to love on others in far off places. A longing to do something for little ones in need. A longing to step right in the middle of extreme poverty. A longing to look long, stay long with the faces and know they were real, live human beings with hearts and souls, burdens and dreams.

He fed my little girl longings in the oddest, most unlikely of ways. Television commercials. Memories of those television commercials are the only way I know today, that this lifelong dream, this current reality is from Him and Him only.

For years and years, those television commercials continued to pop through my screen as I watched Little House on the Prairie and ate cupcakes with pink frosting, potato chips with french onion dip. In-between scenes of Laura Ingalls with Pa and Ma, the Lord showed me faces. Faces of a little girl with a pink shirt, boys walking through a dump, and a man with a gray beard who reminded me time and time again that I could sponsor a child in that far off place. Sally Struthers told me I could sponsor one child for “just 70 cents a day.” The date on that commercial is 1987. I was 11 years old. God was working already.

The years passed.

My little girl heart grew into a mama bear heart.

But the longings never left. Never.

Sally Struthers had long been replaced by new familiar faces. Brighter, more brilliant campaigns dazzled the television screen to fight global poverty. But the celebrity faces didn’t really faze this mama bear heart. Because a mama bear heart knows what a mama bear heart knows. Those commercials? Those kids living in extreme poverty? They were still speaking to me. God was still using them to remind my little girl heart what it yearned for most.

That is, until He spoke through a different screen.

Yes, He knows me best. Introverted. Visual. Communicates best through writing. Moved by emotion and story.

So television commercials turned into Twitter in August of 2010. Because God’s timing is perfect.

It was Ann Voskamp’s blog post in September of 2010 that changed everything. Ann was in Guatemala with Compassion International, visiting her sponsored child. She wrote this post, “How to Make Your Life an Endless Celebration.” And it wrecked me. Tears streamed down my face as I read her post. My little girl heart came alive in a new way. God began whispering. This is the way.

From then on, I was sold out for this organization called Compassion International. I believed in their mission to release children from extreme poverty and I knew this was a match for my little girl heart. So signed up to become an official Compassion Blogger. I also became a fiercely loyal follower of Compassion’s blogging trips to visit sponsored children all around the world. And somewhere along the way, I began dreaming that maybe one day, some day, I could go on one of those trips, too. Maybe one day, some day, I’d use my blog to be a voice for children living in extreme poverty.

I wrote that defined dream on my heart, in a journal, and later in a private document titled “A Possible Calling” that detailed all of my God-sized dreams.

Our family sponsored a little girl through Compassion International in August 2012. In December 2012, we became correspondents with a little boy who has since joined our growing family of sponsored children.

I began to feel a call on my life to do something more.

So on July 1, 2013, after much prayer, conversation, and financial consideration with my husband, I clicked a button that meant I would be traveling to Haiti in February 2014 to visit our two sponsored children through Compassion International. The sponsor trip was marvelous, beyond my wildest dreams. It fulfilled every longing my little girl heart ever had. Because of God’s faithful provision, I’d stepped into a world of extreme poverty and became a voice for the voiceless through my daily blog posts.

But He who begins a good work will carry it out to completion. God was not finished with me yet. In fact, He’d just begun.

On July 1, 2014, exactly ONE year after I’d clicked the registration button to travel to Haiti, I received a personal message from Compassion International. They wanted to verify my email address. They needed to send me something. I opened that message as I was getting into the car after a speech therapy home visit, and didn’t have time to respond because I was on my way to the daycare where I’d had that revelation last summer. So I made my way to the place of revelation. Tears streamed and holy goosebumps popped as I thought up all the amazing reasons Compassion might be contacting me on this seemingly random summer day. But I didn’t let myself get too excited because I am a realist, after all. Perhaps Compassion was contacting me in July because they needed me to pull something I’d written about the sponsor trip I’d taken back in February?

I got myself to a public library as quick as I could, and responded in the most proper way possible to verify my email address. I received an email back from Compassion International within an hour.

“We are all so grateful for your commitment to release children from poverty in Jesus’ name. [We] also wanted to invite you on a sponsor tour. Another one…” And later in the email, “There are so many great stories that occur during the week of a sponsor tour, as you know, and we want to start exploring what it would be like to capture those stories through our bloggers.”

My heart raced.

This was nothing but God’s pure grace, divine favor, a miracle. Compassion International just celebrated five years of blogging trips, and now they’re beginning another adventure, inviting bloggers to join a sponsor tour.

I’d been chosen to be a part of this new adventure.

As I sat there in the car reading the words over and over again on my tiny iPhone screen, all I could do was pray over and over again “Dear Lord, I am humbled and grateful. Dear Lord, I am humbled and grateful. Dear Lord, I am humbled and grateful.”

After gathering myself, I texted my husband and asked him to “call me right away if you have time!” “You’ll never guess,” I said when he called. “You’ll never guess.”

God’s grace.

His favor.

A Miracle.

Most definitely, yes.

I’ve been keeping this secret since July 1st. It’s just been me, my husband, Compassion and God himself that have known. I shared the news with one sweet soul one week ago, our parents yesterday, and my prayer and support team yesterday afternoon. And now, today, it’s your turn to know. It’s time to make the news public!

I’ve been invited to travel to the Dominican Republic with Compassion International and join a sponsor tour in January 2015. I’ll be traveling with a bunch of sponsors and TWO other bloggers. Kris Camealy, Sandra Heska King, and I will share stories throughout the week on our blogs. We’ll travel the beaten down, graveled up roads our sponsored children travel. We’ll see Compassion’s Child Survival Program in action, we’ll visit homes and Child Development Sponsorship Program projects, and we’ll see the most amazing fruits of Compassion’s efforts when we meet young adults enrolled in the Leadership Development Program. But most exciting of all? We’ll meet our sponsored children. We’ll meet them face to face. In fact, we’ll witness a whole host of sponsors meeting their sponsored children. And it will be beautiful, divine, holy.

The moments will be orchestrated by God himself. The stories, prepared in advance for us to tell. May our words be a vessel through which He speaks truth about the value of every human life.

As I drove away from that daycare yesterday, I remembered the revelation I had at that same daycare one year ago. Perhaps God’s been preparing me with these 14 years of speech therapy home visits. He’s wanted me to learn what it takes to enter in to others’ private space, others’ holy space and bring voice to the voiceless. He’s prepared me for a lifetime, really. My little girl heart has grown up into a great big mama bear heart. He’s fulfilling the promises He set in me from the beginning. That makes my heart beat hard, takes my breath away, gives me holy goosebumps. And brings wells of tears to my eyes. Because God is good. His promises ring true. Always and forever.

Similar to every major series I write on this blog, this post will serve as the landing page for my Dominican Republic trip with Compassion International in January 2015. All the posts I write about the trip will be listed and linked here, at the bottom of this blog post. You’ll find this Dominican Republic graphic displayed on the right sidebar of my blog homepage. Click on the graphic anytime, and you’ll be brought right back here where you’ll find all the blog posts in one place!

Other posts in the series about my trip to the Dominican Republic:

The Sweet Girl I’m Going to Visit in the Dominican Republic

I’m Empty. Apparently That’s the Way God Wants Me.

Bonita y Muy Guapo

Giving and Receiving Through Child Sponsorship

A Best Friend for Eternity

How a Formerly Sponsored Child Taught Me Anything’s Possible

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words

Have you always dreamed of sponsoring a child? Why not do it today? I promise, it’ll be one of the best decisions you’ll ever make. Maybe Dominican Republic’s your place? Or perhaps you’re feeling called to Africa, Asia or elsewhere. Check out Compassion’s website by clicking right here. A whole host of children are patiently waiting for a sponsor. If you could meet them face to face, I just know you’d understand what an honor it is to release them from poverty and give them hope for a better tomorrow.

 

 

Today I’m thinking of you. And I’m wondering if you might be a little like me.

You see, we all have hopes and dreams for our lives. Some of those hopes and dreams are small, and some are big and grand. Regardless of the size, they’re all worthy.

But sometimes, when a dream is really important to you, when it’s something you’ve been hoping for and dreaming of for a long, long time? It scares you.

Yes, hopes and dreams are exciting, exhilarating, life-giving. But they’re also scary because sometimes they can feel too big, unattainable, impossible to achieve.

Let me tell you a little more about how this plays out in my life.

About six weeks ago, I published a post on my personal Facebook page. It read something like this…

Seriously considering running a marathon for my 40th birthday. Wondering if running a marathon is something I should plan on being a once-in-a-lifetime event, or is it something an average person could pull off several times? Also, any recommendations as to which marathon would be better for a first-time marathoner, _____ or _____ (listed the names of two marathons I’ve considered for my first).

Sure, it was a little scary to publish this post on my personal Facebook page, because I’ve dreamed of running a marathon for a long, long time. But what was even scarier was the fact that I was putting myself out there and had no idea what kind of response I’d get. Would they think I was crazy? Trying to get attention? I knew there were a lot of marathoners in my 400-something friend list on Facebook, so I knew it was the best place to go for some quick feedback. But I was still a little scared.

After I published the post, I put down my phone and watched a movie with my husband. Two hours later, I picked up my phone and pulled up Facebook. As I walked up the stairs to our bedroom, I noticed there didn’t seem to be any replies to my post about the marathon. No notifications were popping up on my screen.

I got scared.

Oh no. The post has been up for two hours and not a single person’s responded. They must think I’m crazy. They must think I’m out of my mind. This was a horrible idea.

So before I even got to the top of the stairs, I pulled up the post, erased it, and closed down Facebook.

Bad idea.

When I got into bed, I proceeded with my nightly routine, which is quiet time to peruse Facebook and Twitter without interruption. It was only then, when I gave Facebook ample time to load, that I realized I had received feedback on that marathon post – several likes and SEVEN comments. Seven comments. Hmmm…

I clicked on the notification so I could read all of the comments; the only (major) problem was that I had deleted the post just a few minutes prior! I, quite literally, lost access to my own post. So although I could see that seven comments had been made, I never had the opportunity to read any of them. When I deleted the post, all of the comments got automatically deleted as well. The support I might have just garnered for one of my dreams was lost in one click.

I felt like a fool. How silly was I? How stupid was I to assume that NOBODY would like the idea of me running a marathon? It was only because of my own fear that I erased that post as I walked up the stairs. It was only because of my own need for others’ APPROVAL of my dream that I erased the post when I thought it had gotten zero response.

Sorry to say folks, it doesn’t end there.

In January, I asked for a prayer and support team to come alongside me and my God-sized dreams. I wasn’t in any place to share my dreams with the whole wide world, but I didn’t want to feel alone with my dreams anymore, either. To my surprise, 12 people offered to come alongside. But two emails and three months later, I became scared that I just let 12 people in on my dreams. I wanted to back out, I wondered if I’d made the wrong decision. There was a part of me that thought I’d been too quick to invite others in, too quick to put myself out there, too quick to share the dreams. I felt vulnerable, and still do. Yet I know I need the support.

And another example – after I’d taken a 3-week break from blogging, after I felt complete clarity about my life from here on out, my husband and I made plans to start moving me towards my dreams even more. But let me tell you, there’s a cost to pursuing your biggest hopes and dreams. When you start to count the cost of following your dreams, it’s easy to get scared.

Thoughts creep in…

Is this really worth it? Are my hopes and dreams really going to happen anyway? What if I spend all of this time, all of this money, all of this effort – and nothing comes of it? What if? What then?

Yes, I admit. I have these hopes, I have these dreams for my life. But I’ve been waffling between fear and hope. I’ve felt empowered, I’ve felt the uncertainty of in-between, and I’ve felt scared to death.

So I’m wondering if you might be a little like me?

What are your hopes? What are your dreams for your life?

Do you dream of finally getting that college degree? Maybe it’s an extra licensure or degree you need to fulfill those dreams. Perhaps your hopes and dreams are on the home front. You long to get married and have children of your own, you want to become a foster parent, you dream of adopting from Asia or Africa, you want to know what it’s like to stay home full-time with your children. You daydream about a bigger house, a much smaller house, a lake house, or maybe you realized you really just want to sell it all and retire or become a missionary. It’s possible you need to get back to work, step away from work, change your work from corporate to nonprofit or the other way around. Maybe you want to open a restaurant, set up a booth at the state fair, start a video business, jewelry business, Mary Kay business? Or perhaps you’ve always wanted to climb Mount Everest, go on a safari, kayak over a waterfall, or become an Ironman. Or maybe, just maybe, you dream of quiet spaces where you have room to breath, room to feel free, room to notice and just be.

Whatever your dream is, it’s worthy.

Whatever your dream is, it’s bound to make you scared at some point.

Whatever your dream is, fear’s going to push back on it somewhere along the way.

But yes, let’s remind ourselves again…

Whatever your dream is, it’s worthy of dreaming.

Because without dreams, we have no hope for a better tomorrow.

So let’s keeping hoping, let’s keep dreaming, let’s keep praying it’ll all come true.

And day by day, let’s push those fears aside – together.

Don’t let your biggest hopes and dreams scare you. Because in the end, it’s better to have failed in pursuit of a dream than it is to regret having never pursued it at all.

Amy

Sometimes life as a mama doesn’t feel compatible with your dreams as a woman.

Maybe you’re late to the game. You stayed home with the kids all those years only to discover that when you arrived to interview at the workplace of your dreams, everyone else was in line ahead of you. Or maybe they were already seated at the table, and you feel like there’s no way you’ll ever get a seat. It’s hard to imagine how you’ll ever catch up. How will you get to that place you imagine for yourself when all you’ve ever done is give everything you have to your kids?

Maybe you were already in line, maybe you were already seated at that table. You were on your way, but motherhood called, and you had to step away from the hopes and dreams you had for your life as a woman. You got up from that table, left that place in line. Tears sprung forth from your eyes the second you walked away. You knew you had to do it, you knew it was time, but something tugged at your heart saying stay, stay.

You walk beaten paths with chocolate milk bottles, straws that fell on the ground, and dirty napkins. And when you look at that partially eaten double chocolate chip cookie your baby finished along the beaten path, you think yep, this is my life right now. Chocolate chip milk bottles, straws, dirty napkins, and partially eaten double chocolate chip cookies.

So you keep walking.

You keep on walking and you keep on walking.

You keep on loving and you keep on caring for those beautiful kiddos the very best you can.

You’re keeping on, keeping on.

Because you know – you’re mama, but you’re woman, too.

Your hopes and dreams for your life as a woman won’t be trampled on – just because you’re mama.

For once upon a time, God laid dreams on your heart to become a mama. He made those dreams beautiful in their time. Those little ones you hoped for all those years? Now they’re yours, gifted to you, for such a time as this.

Those little ones that needed you all those years? Your time with them was precious, the days fleeting. You loved them dearly, for such a time as this.

Those tiny ones that beckon you to come, be with them now? They’ll remain tiny for only so long. So love on them, be with them, for such a time as this.

Rest assured, sweet mama, that God’s dreams for you as a woman will be fulfilled. He’ll lead you to that perfect spot in line. He’ll make space for you at that table when your time has come. Rest, assured.

You need not be afraid, tears need not spring forth from your eyes.

For God makes all things beautiful, in time.

You’ve been in a season, mama. You’re in a season, mama.

So walk on, walk on.

Press on, press on.

Love on, love on.

You’re not just mama or just woman. You’re mama and woman.

Rest assured, mama.

Time’s in your hands, time’s in God’s hands.

As hard as it’s been to find a seat at that table, as hard as it is to step out of line, as much as it seems you’re surrendering your womanhood for motherhood – just know, it’s all compatible.

Because you’re mama and woman.

Be brave. Love big. Press on.

Because you are amazing, just as you are, right where you are.

One day, when the time is right, when the season’s turned, you’ll find yourself seated at that table, you’ll find yourself at the front of the line – and you’ll wonder, how in the world did those days of partially eaten double chocolate chip cookies escape me?

Amy

*This post is part of a month-long series titled Motherhood Unraveled. To read more from this series, click here and read to the bottom where all the posts are listed and linked!

That last night in Haiti, I sat on the edge of a bed in a Port-au-Prince hotel room facing my roommate, Georgeann. I’d just met this woman one week prior, but I’d learned enough of her to know she was authentic and completely trustworthy. So in that moment, both of us bare-footed and ready for bed, with all the noise and clamor of Port-au-Prince in the background, I shared the secret of my heart.

There are things I’ve experienced here in Haiti that I’ve never come close to experiencing back home.

Yep. These are the things that have been weighing on my heart. These are the things that have been pressing on my soul since I returned from Haiti, nearly two months ago now. These are the things that call to me, speak to me, dare me to find the soonest opportunity to return to that beautiful country. These are the things I long for when I know in my heart I’m missing Haiti.

How was it possible for me to develop such a deep and rich love for a country I visited only one week?

How is it possible that an adoptive mom’s story really is true, that she’s never heard of anyone going to Haiti just once?

And the question I’ve asked myself time and time again since I returned – why would God have brought me to a place I loved so much, a place that sat so perfectly with my soul, only to take me away again?

It takes me a second to realize the obvious – my family and friends are here in the United States. Of course I desire, of course God desires for me to return to my country, to live, love, nurture and serve those He’s placed in my path. Here.

My life is here.

My life. is here.

My life is beautiful, blessed and rich beyond measure.

But my heart still speaks. That deepest place calls out, longs to linger in the beautiful match Haiti was for my soul.

Perhaps you understand if you’ve been to Haiti.

So I believe. God will have me return.

I believe God is already preparing a way.

I believe He knows exactly where I’ll go next, exactly where He’ll have me next.

And I’ll be open, beyond ready when it’s time to go. Because I know, He will call.

It’ll be specific. And it’ll be with people and for purposes far greater than myself.

Because I simply can’t afford what Haiti needs. Nor can I afford what Haiti has to offer.

So I lend myself as an offering, before He calls. I’m willing to go, it’s my desire, no doubt.

But in the quiet God tames me. He says wait. Hold up. I’m working. Wait. Not yet. Let My plan unfold. I will show you the way.

So I wait.

Patiently.

Very patiently.

I ponder and pray over every clue, wondering if this is what He’d have me do.

And I ponder all the reasons I dared to utter that sentence in the Port-au-Prince hotel room…

There are things I’ve experienced here in Haiti that I’ve never come close to experiencing back home.

I keep these things close, tucked away in the recesses of my heart. For God bestowed on me these most precious gifts, and I’ll treasure them as such until He calls me to return to that beautiful, soul-stirring place called Haiti.

That beautiful place where mamas aren’t afraid to tell truths about the depths of their pain, and they aren’t afraid to share the source of their joy either.

That beautiful place where girls showed me what it looks like to have a servant heart. That beautiful place where I learned what it really means to receive.

That beautiful place where kids from extreme poverty say “I love my life.”

That beautiful place where dreamers dream and believe ALL things are possible, with God, through Christ – even when ALL signs suggest otherwise.

That beautiful place where words mean something. Yes, that beautiful place where words are powerful, limitless, LIFE GIVING.

That beautiful place where simplicity wins, integrity shines, and dignity is always of the utmost importance.

That beautiful place where creativity is fostered, not forced.

That beautiful place where leaders rise among sleeping giants. That beautiful place where great leaders of a country literally stand before you. And you can feel it, this rising up of of a nation as they fulfill their call.

That beautiful place where hearts just like yours affirm, make you feel known, completely understood, tell you you’re beautiful, we love you just the way you are.

That beautiful, beautiful place where humble hearts reign. And you’ve never experienced humility like that ever, ever before. And you finally know, THAT’S what true humility looks like. Yes, that’s a beautiful place.

That beautiful place where joy is unspeakable. And pain is never, ever far away.

That beautiful place where faith crosses every border.

That beautiful place where human souls sing, triumph, keep pressing forward…even if, even though…

That beautiful place where eyes can’t help but notice the poverty, the destitution, the lack of everything, everywhere. That beautiful place where I couldn’t help but notice the wealth, the riches, the abundance in everyone, everywhere.

Yes. Those are the things about Haiti that I can’t quite replicate here, back at home. Those are the things that have been hard to explain. Those are the things that have lingered in my heart. Those are the things that call me, beckon me to return.

Is it possible for a heart to be 100% engaged in one place and 100% engaged in another? So be it. Let it be mine.

If, for any reason, these words have spoken to the deepest part of you, whether you’ve been to Haiti or not, please let me know via comment, Facebook message, or email. Whatever God has in store for me and Haiti, I’m most certainly going to need travel partners. I’m believing He might have one or more of you join me in the future. Who’s it going to be?

Some food for thought this Friday afternoon.

Blessings on your journey, wherever it may lead you.

Amy

**If you’d like to read about my journey to Haiti in February 2014, click on this link and read to the bottom where you’ll find links to every post I wrote about Haiti. It’s an honor to invite anyone and everyone into this life changing story.

I’m an avid reader of blogs. I can’t even begin to estimate the number of blog posts I’ve read. While I greatly appreciate and read my fair share of how-to blog posts, the ones I love most are packed with heart and soul.

I want to know – what’s your biggest battle and how in the world are you overcoming that deep, deep pain? Get real with me. Tell me how it is. And please, oh please, tell me when you’ve seen the light and you’re free to just dance and be.

In all my reading of thousands of blog posts back to August 2010, I’ve run across one sentence that’s proved to be a theme, regardless of the writer’s position on the battle field. And get this – for the most part, it’s worded the same way every time.

I’m too much, not enough.

Whatever the battle is, it comes down to this one false belief.

I’m too much, not enough.

I’m too much, not enough.

Think about that.

The enemy of our soul takes one sentence and uses it to destruct thousands of souls. He morphs and twists it into a whole host of ugly words we use against ourselves. And after all that thinking and speaking bad about ourselves, we just want to curl up in a ball and say forget it. I’m not playing the game. I’m stepping out. I’m not going to win anyway.

I’m too much, not enough.

It’s always both. Never JUST – too much. Never JUST – not enough. Nope. It’s always…

I’m too much, not enough.

The enemy of our soul wants us to believe both sides of this ugly coin. That way he can hit us from every angle.

I’ve written these words about myself. I’ve read it too many times to count. But here’s the deal. I’m tired of these words. I’m tired of these words for myself. And I’m tired of them for you.

So today I’m not going to solve this problem, but I’m going to begin bringing it into the light. And I’m starting with this part of the lie…

I’m too much.

If we bring these lies into the light, we’ll expose them for what they are – flat out lies, false beliefs we’ve held about ourselves for way too long, for no good reason. And truth is? We’ve got to release these lies. Or the enemy will keep us right where he wants us. Flat on the ground, no good for anything, and certainly not up to fulfilling the awesome plans God has in store for us.

So here we go people. I’m giving mine up. All this I’m too much I think about myself? Forget about it. Let’s put it to rest. I’m laying it all out. Right here for you. I’m bringing every false belief I’ve held about myself boldly into the light.

I’m too much.

I’m too serious. Most definitely. For sure. Way, way too serious.

I’m too intense. Like shake it off, girl. Ease up. Take a chill pill, for real.

I’m too fat. My butt is too big. And my stomach has always been too. big. My nose, it juts out just a little too much at the top. The arms, that place behind my shoulder where I have a little too much fat and it shows in pictures shot from the right angle? Too much.

So let’s get back to that too serious and too intense stuff. Like people might not want to hang too long with me because I’m too serious, too intense.

Maybe the activities I like are too boring, too quiet – like reading and writing, watching movies and gardening. Ya, those sound like cool things to do when I’m retired, not now.  

Maybe I’m too churchy, too religious, too spiritual. Maybe I talk about God too much. Maybe I crossed the line, maybe I’ll cross it again and you’ll think I’ve gone too far. I just need to stop talking about all that church stuff. It’s too much.

Maybe I’m too deep. I think and overthink too much. Just ease up. Isn’t that all I need to do? Stop. thinking. too. much. And stop thinking so deeply. Just move on. Who cares. Not everything’s that important, that necessary to think through so thoroughly. I’m just too deep. It’s all too much. I’m too much.

I want things perfect, too much.

I want to do things right, too much.

I want to make the right decision, too much.

I care what everything thinks, too much.

I can obsess about anything and everything, too much.

I write too much. Post on Facebook too much. Made a comment on someone’s blog and it was just a little too much. Shared something intimate, personal, too much. Said something in 1,400 words when I could have said it in 700? Too much. Way too much. Keep it simple stupid. I write too much, divulge too much, care too much. And ya, this post? It’s probably too much.

Explained every detail when I could have gotten to the main point in one sentence? Too much.

Texted three sentences when I could have said it in one? Too much.

Emailed several paragraphs when I could have just emailed one? Too much.

That music that I like? Too boring, too slow. Ya, some of it’s just too intense. Like nobody gets that stuff. Where in the world did I find that song anyway? And those movies? BO-RING. Dramas? Documentaries? BO-RING. That stuff that makes me cry? It’s just all too much. Movies are for entertainment, not inspiration. Stop trying to find meaning in movies. They’re just movies for goodness sake. And when I hide away in a movie theater by myself with popcorn, candy, pop and  a movie of my own choosing? That’s just weird. Too weird. Who does that anyway? 

And what about all the dreaming? You’re dreaming girl! Get real! Give up the pipe dreams and start living in the real world. This is life, not Fantasyland! Those dreams, they’re simply too big, utterly impossible. So stop obsessing. It’s all too much. Give it up. Just give. it. up.

As much as I’d like to resolve these issues, take fight against the enemy of my soul right here and now, I want to leave it like that, lay it down just as it is. Because sometimes we just need to admit, here are the lies I’ve been believing about myself. Here are the false truths the enemy has tried to shove down my throat for years. This. has been my reality.

When we take a moment to reflect and acknowledge that these are ugly words, pure garbage, perhaps we’ll get to a place where we finally get real with ourselves and say…

I’m not willing to live that way anymore.

I will no longer accept those lies as truth.

I’m believing the truth about myself is much more beautiful than this.

We’ll talk about this more as the week unfolds. In my next post, I’ll dive deeper into not enough. And I’ll wrap up this week-long series just in time for Easter; we’ll discuss why we’re truly ENOUGH, just the way we are.

In the meantime, I wonder – what are some of the lies you’ve believed about yourself through the years? In what ways have you felt like you’re just too much?

Lay them down. Lay them all down here.

Then, be gentle with yourself. Because you’re not too much of anything. You’re enough, just right, just as you are.

Amy