“I taught people around me that I had no needs
and then I
was secretly angry with them for believing me.”
This seems to be a problem for “good girls.”
We work hard, we meet needs, we do the job in front of
us, and we do it well.
We do it with eager hands and a smile, or we try to, and
when we don’t feel like smiling we smile anyway. We get done whatever needs to
be done. We are the responsible ones, the strong ones, the ones people come to
with their problems. We like this reputation. We love living up to this
expectation. We love encouraging, helping, and coming through in a pinch.
We love making peace, putting people at ease, and lifting
burdens.
We hate the opposite.
We don’t want to be involved in conflict.
We definitely don’t want to be the ones causing it.
We don’t want people to be uncomfortable or angry or
upset about anything. We make peace at all costs.
We especially don’t want people to feel angry or upset at
us, so we morph like amoebas to avoid others’ unhappiness.
We don’t like seeing people with burdens that we can’t
lift. We pile them on our shoulders.
We don’t like to add to anyone’s burdens. We pretend we
have none of our own.
Ever.
We’re fine.
And we’d really like to be fine. We are trying very hard
to be fine. We don’t mean to be dishonest… we just really, really don’t want to
be anything other than fine. And we hope if we pretend to be fine for just a
little longer, we really will be fine.
When we are alone in the dark, we might whisper a prayer
to God for help, but if He tries to provide help by sending us an actual person
for us to lean on, forget it.
Too uncomfortable.
Too hard.
We don’t want to be a burden.
So we hide. We wear masks. We ache.
We get angry when people don’t realize it, when they
believe the masks we wear.
But we don’t know how to take the masks off.
As the author describes,
“Our desire to be the good girl, the good Christian,
the
good wife, and the good mom becomes the number one priority,
and Jesus isn’t
even in the room.” P. 32
Jesus isn't even in the room.
What does that even mean?
 |
Photo by Shalinee Kohli Murishwar:
|
If He were “in the room,” wouldn’t He just be standing
shoulder to shoulder with that “good girl” in my head, that perfect version of
myself that I never am? Wouldn’t He be standing there with His arms crossed,
glaring at me like she does, telling me to do better, to try harder?
Wouldn’t He take her side?
No, He wouldn't. And this makes all the difference.
He sees through our masks right into all the ugliness,
and still He says, come.
Our stubborn insistence to do it all on our own, in our
way, on our strength, begins to be washed away in the flood of His love.
We learn to receive love from Him and from others, and we
receive so much more than we give.
It comes down in a shower of grace, and we are refreshed.
Jesus Christ came to save sinners, to pour out his mercy
on all people.
He came for you, and He continues to come for you, that
you may have life and have it
abundantly.
Father,
Forgive us for chasing expectations and guarding our reputations,
for people pleasing and making ourselves slaves to guilt,
and for doing even "good" things out of fear, not love.
Our works are filthy rags.
Refresh us with your mercy, and teach us to rest in Your goodness.
Help us to see the ways you care for us,
in Your Word,
and through the people you send into our lives.
We dare pray these things because of Jesus alone.
Amen.
-----------
Do you have trouble admitting when you're not "fine?"
Share your thoughts in the comments!
Do you know a friend who is exhausted by being fine all the time?
Send some encouragement today.
