A situation arose about a month ago that caught Jordan and I completely by surprise. It shocked us, hurt us, and left us a bit confused. While resolution was achieved, it wasn't a "happy" resolution, and it stirred up some feelings of rejection that I wasn't prepared for.
Rejection has always been a wound for me. When I look back on growing up, my teen years, and the years since, instances always arise that would remind me that I "wasn't enough" for people. I wasn't cool or popular enough. I wasn't pretty enough. I wasn't smart enough. I wasn't single enough. I wasn't in a relationship enough.
I just wasn't good enough.
Over the last few years, I haven't felt the effects of those wounds. Or at least haven't felt them often. So part of me forgot that this was an old wound for me.
As I drove Anson to daycare this morning, and was praying along the way, I found myself saying, "God, why can't I just be good enough?"
Later this morning I called one of my best friends. My fierce friend. This is the friend who showed up on my doorstep in a torrential downpour last June, ready to take over the rest of packing and moving for me so that I didn't go into labour moving weekend and so that I could focus on finishing off my school year. The friend who flew across the country to do this. The friend who saw me. She saw my pain, my fear, my worry, and my stress, and so she flew to Ontario to take up part of my fight for me. The same friend who, at Christmas, did the 12 Days of Christmas for me, giving me a little gift to open every day that reminded me that I was seen. That I was known. And that someone who saw and knew me also loved me.
*Friends like that don't come around every day. If you have one, never let them go.*
What is amazing about this friend, is that she didn't try to talk me out of my feelings, she didn't try to make me feel better, and she also didn't coddle me. She comforted me, but she also strengthened me. As someone who has known me for over 20 years, she knows me well. She knows my history with rejection. And so she took time out of her morning to walk with me through this. To go to the root of these feelings. To identify that the statement "I'm not enough" is actually a lie, and that when God formed me, He wasn't saying, "This is Jess. She isn't enough" (this friend also didn't accept my account that I am the platypus of humanity, and that God just threw a bunch of random parts together to see how they wound turn out and got a Jess).
As a parent, one of my biggest fears is that of watching my kids wrestle with the same wounds I do. I'm petrified that Anson and Gwendolyn will feel that they "aren't enough" for other people. That my creative, beautiful, hilarious children will feel like they aren't cool enough, pretty enough, popular enough... that they just aren't good enough. In the last week my prayers for them have developed to include a prayer for friends for them. That they will have friendships that will challenge, encourage, and strengthen them. That they will be able to do that for those friend. My hope is that God will give them fierce friends who will call them on their crap, but who will also fight for them. That they will have friends who will see them, know them, and love them. Who will strengthen them when they don't have the strength, and who will step in and fight for them when they are unable to carry on any longer. It is also my prayer that my kids will be fierce friends themselves.
I keep pausing and trying to think of some kind of neat way to wrap this entry up. And I keep coming up empty. But maybe that's just God's way of reminding me that this is going to be a process for me. That acknowledging that this is a wound and where it's root is at is great, but that old wounds still flare up (trust me... I have an old elbow injury that I thought was better until I had kids and especially when that latter child turned into a co-sleeper... now even knitting can hurt!). Through this time, God has also really shown me that there are friends and people who love me for who I am. Who think I am enough. Who love my family and think they are enough too.
So here's to old wounds, fierce friends, and the road to healing.
