Welcome my sweet friend Tara to the blog today. She and I have been internet friends since I can remember. She gave me a beautiful gift after our house fire and I think of her often when I pass by it in our home. She has a lovely blog and a lovely shop and I’m so honored to have her here. She’s using one of my favorite quotes today which confirms that we are kindred spirits. You will be blessed by her kind and thoughtful heart!
The idea of telling my story used to shred me. I remember the first time I did it like it was yesterday.
I was a senior in college, and it was a Wednesday night. I stood, knees knobbing and nearly choking from a Texas-sized lump, in the front of the chapel that held our campus ministry.
I’m fairly certain I thought I’d die before I finished.
From the moment my campus pastor asked me to share, the question that hung over my head like a dark, luminous cloud was Can these people handle my story?
I felt naked and exposed standing before them that night.
I’d spent a lifetime wearing masks and drawing pictures of my life for the people in it that didn’t include any remote truth that might dare threaten their acceptance of me. I became a master at being all things to all people. I stood on the outside of my story and abandoned any part of it that made me vulnerable.
When we refuse to own who we are, shame wins. Shame loves to keep us quiet. Its one relentless mission is to convince us to exchange the truth of who we really are for the approval and acceptance of others.
When you’re as addicted to people pleasing as I used to be, it usually means you’re feeding a growing beast inside who goes by the name of Perfectionism. We all know we’re not perfect, but we just about kill ourselves trying to look like we are.
I stood and told my story that night. I didn’t tell the scariest parts. I wasn’t that brave yet. But I started the long, arduous journey from being totally obsessed with the thoughts of others to having faith that God really does repair what the locusts have eaten, that he makes all things good, that he erects beauty from ashes, and that his power really is made perfect in our weaknesses.
And a very long journey it has been.
Every year of the last twenty has taught me to let go of the notion that I need to have my act together.
These years have been good to teach me that control is positively impossible.
I’ve slowly, slowly, slowly traded in a devotion to pleasing, performing and perfection for authenticity.
Not coincidentally, marriage and parenting and friendships have been my way out of perfectionism.
They’ve forced me to see my flaws.
It’s hard to hide who I really am in those arenas, and honestly, I don’t want to.
God made us for relationships.
They plunge us into a place of vulnerable, messy and real and we watch as God does his miraculous work.
You become better at anything by practicing it over and over and over again.
It’s still scary every single time I decide to share a piece of my heart with someone, but every time I choose authenticity and vulnerability, I become braver and more courageous.
I become the me that God intended me to be.
The bountiful harvest that comes from living more wholeheartedly is an inner circle of people who are willing to bear the weight our stories.
As Easter approaches, we’re reminded of the One who bore the weight of who we are in the ultimate way in His death for us. It’s tempting to want to scurry past the part of the story where an excruciating death occurred, but we can’t. Without death, there’s no real hope of resurrection. We have to face the truth of who we are and those things that grip us and keep us from opening ourselves up to the redeemer of our souls.
Then and only then are we free to love and to be loved by others.
The greatest struggle in my life has been surrendering my need for control and my need to look like I’ve got it all together. This battle comes straight out of the hardest, scariest parts of my story.
But every single time I die to what my flesh craves, God resurrects more and more freedom in my heart.
The result is a vulnerable, messy, real, beautiful, wholehearted life.
God takes the things in our stories that make us vulnerable and uses them to fulfill his calling in our lives.
What are the things that make you vulnerable?
How is God using those things to shine his light in your life?
Love this. Love seeing both of your names on the same page. Love the quote and insight. Sharing now. Thank you
Very inspirational! I think if we all are honest with ourselves then we realize your particular struggles, which you shared so beautifully here are very much similar to our own struggles. There is a comfort in that even though we are complete strangers…so thank you for sharing today as it resonated with me on a very personal level.
tara these words are so beautiful & encouraging!
i can relate in many ways!
thank you for sharing your heart…which incidentally, you do perfectly
xo
Thank you Tara!! As I was reading this I saw so much of my young self in your words. I would not come to know Jesus until I was 38 years old. I was pondering today in my time with him how strange it really is to have Christ as my gauge, anchor, safe-haven, HOPE. My life is so much different. I used to worry about who I was talking to, what they would think of me, how I wasn’t perfect enough…yet. Now I know who to honor and it just makes things so much more clear. We were made to love light.
Be blessed today and may Jesus shine through all our cracked selves.
“Every time I choose authenticity and vulnerability, I become braver and more courageous. I become the me that God intended me to be.”
That has been so true of my journey as well. I find that when I step out in faith and offer the trueness of who I am… my heart, my story, my faith… God always, in some form or fashion, honors that and I, in turn, grow more confident, more secure in him, braver and more courageous, just like you wrote.
A beautiful, life-giving post, Tara… Thank you for sharing! I’m happy to have found your blog and shop, and I just followed you on Instagram. 🙂
Hello Tara 🙂
Thank you so much for visiting here today 🙂
Leonard Cohen- There’s a name I don’t hear often any more- A person who I loved dearly introduced me to Leonard many years ago- Whenever I see or hear Leonard singing, I like to think they are remembering our time together, where ever they may be-
Your post is exactly what I needed to hear today. It was the quiet whisper and the lion’s roar. A confirmation for me of sorts-
I have learned that my personal experience is the only thing I can share.
Advice may be given, it’s your personal experience that speaks to my spirit.
The signs y’all are creating are spectacular!
I’m from Atlanta, Ga. Moved to Ball Ground, Ga. and lived there for years before moving to Lafayette, La. What part of North Ga. are y’all in? The mountains are what I miss the most being here- and the leaves turning in the fall….
Thanks again for visiting-
Excited to “see” you on Edie’s blog! You have such a gift of sharing yourself in a relatable way. I want to be in control and have learned that I am not the one who controls my life. And parenting is really good at pointing out that truth as well as any of my flaws that I try to deny! Thank goodness that our Father gives us grace in our messy lives. Whew.
I can’t find weighty enough words to commend you for what you’ve written. He has freed me also from the bondage of perfectionism, and you have captured the terror, muck, and elation of the journey well.
Sara…
Praising God for the freedom he has brought us both!
I just love both of y’all! Thank you for sharing your heart, Tara. And thank you for inviting her, Edie.
Edie, we have so many mutual blog friends. Tara is one of my favorites! {I’ve left a number of comments for you over the years as LLH Designs, but have a new blog name as of this week: Bravehearted Beauty.} Tara, I love “hearing” your voice and can’t wait for the day when we share stories for hours in person…maybe right here on my farm! Edie, would love for you to come, too! xoxo