This is me

Don’t compare your real everyday life with someone else’s highlight reel. That’s good advice I heard once about social media. Facebook, Twitter and Instagram can be comparison traps. What most of us post are the good moments, the vacation photos, the happy birthday group shots, the days off, the kids graduating or performing or doing something cute. We don’t usually post the flat tires, the grumpy days at work, the late payment credit card statements, the cat’s poop on the carpet, or pics of our kids in time-out in tears with angry faces.

It’s easy for us to forget that other people are posting their best stuff and envy can start creeping in as we scroll through picture after picture, post after post. We become discontented with our own lives and fall into the mucky muck of self-pity.  Not that I’ve ever done this, of course!

My username on Twitter is “therealmimi” (“realmimi” on Instagram) and I want to be that. I strive for transparency and honesty but am also a positive person by nature. I also want to encourage so I try to post upbeat things, Bible verses that help me, hopeful, fun stuff. Some people have gotten the impression, from time to time, that I have it all together because of this, that I don’t struggle, that I’m handling everything in my life with grace all the time.

Welllllll….not so! I was talking with a dear friend yesterday about this very thing. I was telling her I wish I would’ve created my blog to be anonymous so I could really post about anything, be completely honest in my sharing about all parts of my life. As it is, I feel like I have to hold back, I feel the need to be careful what I say because I’m a pastor’s wife and several in my church family read my posts.  I’m a mother of young adults but my daughters might read my posts. I don’t want to ever hurt any of those people by my open sharing.

At the same time, I really don’t want people getting the idea that I’m positive all the time, that I always have hope, that I always look at the bright side, that I’m always walking closely with Jesus.

I’m an emotional person and have my share of sadness, anger, impatience (especially when driving!), self-centeredness, selfishness, and even depression and sometimes overwhelming anxiety.  When people imply or suggest that I don’t feel those things or don’t go through hard stuff, it actually can make me angry. “I’m the same as anyone else!” I want to shout, stamping my foot with hands on my hips. I think it’s because if someone pictures me as less troubled than the ordinary person, or more “spiritual,” or always happy, it takes away my relatability, it separates me and makes me feel isolated.

There is no closeness between friends who aren’t real with each other. There is no deep connection without transparency. There is no relating to someone you sense has no issues or problems. And I want to relate, I want to connect, I want to encourage by sharing from my truest self.

I believe one of my callings from God is to encourage people. I also believe it’s to help others feel less alone. I believe that in orer to do that, I have to be real.

How about you? What would you need to change in your interactions with people, and even on social media, to be more real? I’m not going to post pics of my cat pooping where she’s not supposed to, but it happens. How’s that for starters?

 

No Hierarchy of Servants

My parents were celebrated Sunday by the church they’ve pastored for the last six years.  They’re retiring not only from that pastorate but from more than 43 years of ministry all over the place.  It was a special day and as I watched and listened to what people shared and thought about how God has used them throughout all that time I was thankful, amazed and proud.   It was no rose-lined path they walked even though there definitely were beautiful places here and there.  They have faced their share of trouble, as we all do.  My dad sank into a deep depression and burnout when I was about 21.  He took some time away and returned ready to share some of the issues he was wrestling with, including expectations others had for his life.  His parents, my grandparents, were missionaries and somehow while growing up my dad perceived there is a hierarchy of servants when it comes to ministry for Jesus.  If you’re committed to Christ you’ll serve in a church, if you’re extra committed you’ll be a pastor, and if you’re über committed Continue reading

Good Pain

One of the odd things about my breast cancer, when I discovered it almost 7 years ago, was that I had no symptoms other than the tiny lump I had found by pressing with my hand one morning.  I told my surgeon, puzzled, “But I don’t feel sick, I haven’t had any other problems.”  He said, “You wouldn’t at this point.  Cancer is simply new cell growth in a place where it’s not supposed to be.  So unless it had grown very large you wouldn’t otherwise know it was there.”  What a sneaky disease.  I’m so thankful I found it when I did.

No one wants to live with ongoing pain, although some unfortunately do.  It’s a bother.  It hurts.  It disrupts our usual way of life and keep us from doing the things we need to or want to do.  I believe it would actually be worse to live without it.  Continue reading

Little gusts of wind

It was another cold, dreary, dark morning that I drove through on my way to work.  At that time in my life I was sinking down into some depression, finding it hard to cope with ongoing stress and pressure.  I really couldn’t explain why otherwise.  It must have been gradual but that month I realized I could hardly get out of bed in the morning and didn’t even want to decide what to wear or put on makeup.  The least little thing brought tears to my eyes.   However, little things encouraged me, too.  For example, when I drove through McDonald’s to get my diet coke each morning there was a cheerful worker named Mary who took my money just about every day.  She’s short, a little rotund, has a tooth or two missing, but always has a kind, cheery voice and smile.  I was amazed how much her happy smile blew a little gust of wind into my droopy sail, even if all she said was “thank you, have a good day!”  I told her that day, “Your kindness and smile make my day.”

In better times, little acts of love are still a blessing.  Today at church during the worship time, we were singing along when I felt a pair of hands on my shoulders.  I turned around to see a friend’s smiling face.  Continue reading