If a Voice Speaks Truth, it Doesn't Matter What it Sounds Like.

 

Self-worth is an everyday struggle for me and for a lot of us.   My big struggle currently is not being “enough” as a pastor.  Not being old enough, male enough, smart enough, not having enough faith, you get the picture.   When people meet me, 90% of the time their reaction is, “YOU’RE THE PASTOR?? You’re so young!”  This comment helps to knock my self-worth down a notch and make the perfectionist in me rear her ugly head and want to prove myself.  This helps to create the extraordinary pressure I put on myself to please everyone else.  This knocks me off course of living authentically, and makes my anxiety level skyrocket. 

I have learned over the years the only way to combat this is self-care, self-care, self-care.  How I go about self-care varies.  One favorite anxiety reducer of mine is guided meditation.  Today, I put on a guided meditation by Lacy Young.   I just found her work.  When I pushed play and heard her voice, she sounded like a 20-some-year old woman.  Immediately, I thought, “Oh how is she going to help?  What is she going to teach me?  She’s sounds just like me.”  And then I stood aghast at what I just thought.

In her book, “Rising Strong,” Brene Brown talks about how we make up stories.  When we don’t know something, our minds fill in the gaps.  When I hear people say, “You’re the pastor?  You’re so young!”  My mind fills in, “How is she going to help? What is she going to teach me?”  Some people may very well be thinking that, but others may not.  They may be thinking, “You go, girl!” “Wow, it’s amazing you’ve accomplished this much for your age.” Those are not the stories my mind makes up though, my mind makes up the worst.  

But an amazing thing happened today.  I gave Lacy a chance, I listened to the guided meditation and do you know what happened?  Half way through, I was thinking, “Wow, this is a great meditation, this is really helping.”  Then life did one of those slow-down moment kind of things and I realized, “If a voice speaks truth, it doesn’t matter what it sounds like.”  The words I was hearing were words of healing.  They were words that I needed to hear, words that spoke truth to my inmost being and while they did, I lost all sense of the voice they were coming from.  It didn’t matter.  It didn’t matter who she was or what she sounded like.  The voice was irrelevant, all that mattered were the words and I thought, “I wonder if this is how people feel about my preaching.”  Maybe it started out as, “Ugh, what can she teach me?”  And it turned into, “It doesn’t matter what she looks or sounds like, I’m being fed.”

Today’s meditation stripped down a layer of my self-unworthiness.  Today’s meditation reminded me that I need to be less hard on myself and others and not be so quick to judge and not be so quick to think others are judging me.  Today’s meditation taught me: if a voice speaks truth, it doesn’t matter what it sounds like.  Next, I have to battle the inner gremlin who is saying, “yeah, you just figured this out?”  So what stories are you making up?  How can you be more gracious and gentle with yourself and others?   Feel free to share your stories in the comments!

Thoughts Recorded During a Panic Attack.

---When we know we are not alone, we find healing----

So often anxiety and depression feel isolating because we think we are the only ones who feel the way we feel.  We feel less than, separate, different, "other." I'm baring the deep stuff here-- my hope in sharing this with you is so those who struggle with anxiety know that they aren't alone and those who don't, can have an insight into how it feels, so you can empathize with those of us who do. 


This was written the day before I had to preach on Easter.

Paralyzed by fear.
I want to run.
I want to hide,
escape by any means necessary.
I don't want to feel this vulnerability,
this uncertainty of tomorrow
is taking my body and mind
captive.
Standing in front of a room full of people
makes me feel sick.
I feel stuck, like there's
no escape.
I can't run, I can't hide.
I have to stand.
I have to speak.
I have to stand in the
vulnerability
and subject myself to
judgement and rejection.
It feels like someone
has a tight grip on my stomach.
Squeezing
Twisting.
I can't stand to have senses.
Every noise, scent, taste, feeling and sight
bothers me.
I want to jump out of my skin.
I want to crawl under the covers and
hide from the world.
My nerves are firing on full blast.
The tension builds and builds
until I can't take it anymore. 
My limbs are flailing
I am about to cry, scream or vomit.
The world is spinning around me,
I'm alone in this bubble of misery-
on display for all to see.
-When it's over,
when I've said my piece,
when I get to walk down the aisle to freedom,
I feel like I am going to collapse.
Relief washes over me.
My legs want to buckle,
my eyes want to close,
my stomach unclenches,
I am exhausted, spent, can't move.
-But I'm not there yet,
I'm still in the waiting
which is like the long ride
up to the top of the rollercoaster.
Lord have mercy.
Not my will, but thine. 


What is interesting about anxiety is when it's over.  It's like being a completely different person.  When I went back and read this on Monday, I was like, "wow, who is this person?  I really felt that bad?"  When you're in that relief state, it's hard to remember how bad it was.  But it's good to read this, to remind myself to keep up with self-care and self-discovery so these times can come fewer and farther between.  I hope this helps whoever is reading it.  Blessings to you.

New Blog!

For some reason Google does not recognize me as the author of my old blog: "Learning to Grow, Daring to Love" (which I haven't written in in over a year).   So I created a new one!  New phase in my life, new blog?   I hope the words that flow onto these pages inspire you, heal you, help you grow and warm your heart.  Welcome!