Post #15: Wrong Way on the One Way

I have actually been meaning to write this post since Monday.  And then life kept on happening.  Like I woke up Monday morning to my first official call-in as a supply teacher (all of my other teaching has been scheduled).  So I drove 45 minutes to teach for the morning, returned home, showered (wasn't left much time for that by the time they called me in), and headed out for tutoring.  Tuesday I was called in again but since I couldn't work a full day I ended up not going in.  But boy did I clean the house!  Wednesday was another call in. Thursday was cleaning and errands and working out and tutoring.  I thought I would have time earlier today, but between more errands, tutoring, running, cleaning, and touching base with my Mom, sister, and sister-in-law, this is my first moment to really sit down.

If anything doesn't make sense, please blame it on the fact that I'm also watching The Walking Dead  while writing.  Husband and I just finished dinner and so this is our evening show (we are getting me caught up so that we can start watching season 5).

I had an interesting moment this morning.  We went to a dinner and silent auction for a local kids group called City Kidz.  We ended up winning some of the items we bid on, so I went to pick them up.  I typed the address into my GPS and set out.

My GPS told me to turn left.

So I did.

My GPS told me to turn left on a one way street.

It neglected to mention that by going left I would be going the wrong way on said one way street.

So after slamming on my breaks and briefly stopping traffic so I could get myself turned around, I pulled into a parking lot and cried.  Then I continued on my way.

I wish I could remember all of the sermon I heard on Sunday.  We had had a guest pastor, and I remember liking the sermon, but by today I could no longer remember it.  But he made one comment that I did remember.  He talked about learning this summer that if you want to understand a character in a story, you need to read the first words they say and the last words.  So he showed us the first words Jesus said that are recorded in the book of John.  They are "What do you want?"  Then he showed us the last ones.  "Follow me."

Those words have been ringing in my mind all week.  The idea that if we really want Jesus like so many of Christians say they do, then we need to lay down our lives and follow Him.

Yesterday on my run I started listening to a Matt Chandler podcast on women.  He was doing a series on men and women.  Before anyone gets their backs up about egalitarian versus complimentarian, know that I'm not going to get into that.  But that I want to share what he said in one of the podcasts I continued listening to today.  He was talking about the hurdles women face, and how they tend to fall into one of (or both of) two buckets: comparison and perfectionism.  I only got through most of the part on the comparison but it hit home way to close.  Chandler shared how women actually tend to check out other women more than they do men because they are constantly comparing how they measure up to others.

I'm going to share something that is really difficult to share on a blog that anyone can read.  But I believe my struggles are not unique to me, and I'm hoping that by sharing others might be encouraged.

I am a woman.  So it probably won't come as a shock to you to discover that I struggle with my self-image, specifically my body image.  Three to four years ago I weighed about twenty-five pounds more than what I do right now.  It took me until I was about 25, but I finally discovered a love of running and Jillian Michaels DVDs that led to shedding the weight and keeping it off.  I am in the best shape of my life.

But every morning I get on my scale.  And if my weight has gone even remotely up I berate myself.  If it doesn't go back down within a day or two, I begin to feel ugly.  I feel awkward and  frumpy.

And for the last three to four weeks I have continually felt worse and worse about myself.

Here's the thing: I have a husband who daily tells me he thinks I'm beautiful.

And when I feel awful about myself all I crave is him telling me this.

But my husband is not God (don't tell him this :P ).

Which means that I cannot look for my identity in him.

My identity can only be found in God.

I can't spend my time comparing myself to other women and feeling like I will never measure up.  And I also can't spend my time longing for others to affirm me.

If I truly want to follow God like I profess that I do, then I need to be willing to turn to Him.  I need to go to Him with my tears, my worries, my joys, my everything.  I need to strive to be the woman He has called me to be.

I need to remember that above all else I am His child.  I'm made in His image.  He loves me enough that He sent His Son.  He formed me and created me and in His eyes I am a work of art (I'm biting my metaphorical tongue to keep from making a self-deprecating joke about side art).

There is something very humbling about realizing that you are going the wrong way on a road. About knowing that the thing you have become so dependent on, your GPS, can lead you so wrong. But sometimes God gives me those moments as a picture for what is going on in my life.

So here's to remember Who my identity is based in.