thoughts

Things to Remember When You’re Feeling Unwanted

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Saturday was Clayton’s first football game. Clayton is the 9 year old boy who currently lives at my house with his mom, Jenny.  I forgot my pom-poms but dressed in team colors with Nikon in hand, my husband and I walked into the ballpark ready to cheer on our little friend.

Jenny met us at the gate and pointed, “We are under that green tent, I left something in my car, be right back.”  We found Clayton’s grandparents and I sat in the chair Jenny brought from our house.  Jenny never sits, she’s too excited. The sun was bright but dark storm clouds were gathering, it was about to be a drencher!

The parents in front of us asked which player was ours and we told them it was our friend’s son. The dad admitted he needed someone to root for to make things more exciting; his daughter was one of the cheerleaders in front of us on the sideline.

There were several other parents in the tent.  When one woman entered, our new cheer-dad friend said, “Come on in, we’ll make room for you.  After all it is your tent!”  They scooted their chairs up, and I scooted mine to the far edge of the side, Barry and Jenny stood behind me.

By the middle of the second quarter, the rain started.  Just a sprinkle at first, then heavier.  More and more people took shelter under the various tents, including the one we were under.  There was chatter around me, but I was busy trying to find Clayton on the field with my lens.

Then above all the other voices I heard, “Oh you mean MY tent. Yeah, I couldn’t even tell it was my tent.”  And as I looked over my shoulder, the green tent owner was rolling her eyes and shot a look in our direction.  In that moment I realized we were the cause of the chatter.  We were not actually welcome in this tent at all.  I had assumed Jenny knew the green tent mom, and that she knew we were Jenny’s friends. Now it seemed that was not the case.

After another minute or two, and some more chatter, I stood up and folded up my chair and moved to stand behind Barry.  Instantly, green tent mom violently planted her chair in the spot mine had been, even though she wasn’t sitting, she was certainly going to claim that space.

I felt the heat rise in my face.  I felt embarrassed and ignorant for not knowing proper peewee football game tent protocol.  I felt like I had imposed myself into a place and into a group where I was not invited or welcome.  I felt like an outsider.  I wanted to leave right then and never come back to another game, to never have to see these people again in my life.  I felt a sting in the corner of my eyes and I couldn’t believe how much this was upsetting me.

Barry could sense my mood had shifted and asked, “What’s wrong? Are you having headache symptoms?” I shook my head and under my breath, “No, snarky mom symptoms.”

The seconds counting down to halftime could not pass quickly enough.  At the buzzer, I turned and hugged Jenny and whispered in her ear, “Do you know the person who owns this tent?”

“No,” She said.

“Well, we are not welcome here. She’s made a couple comments, so we are leaving because I don’t have to be subject to that.  Here’s my camera, you’re welcome to use it for the rest of the game.”

With every step I took on my march back to the parking lot the fuller my eyes got, until the giant tears spilled over my bottom lids and down my face.

I felt foolish for letting something so minor and petty make me this upset.  I couldn’t quite put my finger on why it was so upsetting, really.  But I recognized it was obviously a trigger of some larger emotional issue.  Something I didn’t even realize was still rooted that strongly in my heart.

Suddenly, I was back in middle school and my older brother, whom I worshipped, was telling me through verbal and non-verbal ques, “you’re annoying, I don’t like you, nobody wants you around.”

I’ve come to coin this feeling “Annoying Little Sister Syndrome”.  And I didn’t even realize it was an issue in my life until I was 25 and reeling with the emotional fallout of my divorce.

I went through a small group journey at my church called the “Free Journey” and realized so many of my insecurities and behavior in and from my marriage stemmed back to my childhood rejection from my brother.  For example: Any time my husband chose to spend time with anyone other than me – like a guy friend – all I heard and felt was, “you’re annoying, I don’t like you, nobody wants you around.”  So I would lash out in anger or with a controlling response.

I started to see how these feelings had manifested themselves in high school and into my adult years.  I was possessive and controlling of my friends – and would become hurt or offended if they had friends outside of me.

But these feelings started even before my brother got “too cool” for me during his teenage years.  My brother’s behavior only reinforced the whisper of a lie that was already planted in my mind.

For as far back as I can remember, I used to run away and hide from my parents every chance I got.  I didn’t even know why I was doing it but what I did know is the longer it took them to find me the less loved I felt.

I remember one time I ran outside after church one Sunday and hid in the tall grass behind the building.  I was laying there watching the clouds, I may have even fallen asleep.  But I also remember hearing less and less voices and car doors in the parking lot until finally there were none and I was alone.  They didn’t find me, they didn’t come for me, they didn’t even notice I was gone!  Rather than panic, I started to cry.  Because my parents hadn’t come after me, I obviously was unwanted and unloved.

In reality, I went to a small country church a mile from my house with most of my large extended family.  So my parents just assumed another relative took me home.   As soon as they realized that wasn’t the case they came back for me and found me inconsolable on the stoop of the sanctuary.

My parents were incredible and unconditionally loving, they did absolutely nothing at any point in my childhood to signify that I was either unwanted or unloved by them.  So where did this idea come from?

You and I have an enemy.  He is crafty and mightily skilled at deception.  He is referred to in history as the “great deceiver” and the “father of lies”.

From the day we are born, he begins whispering seeds of doubt, fear, insecurity, and downright un-truth into our tiny ears and hearts.  Maybe for you it’s not “unwanted” but, “ugly”, or “ignorant”, or “worthless”. And then he waits for any circumstance in our life that we could interpret as a reinforcement of those lies.  He leaps at the opportunity to water and fertilize that seed so that it takes root and sprouts in our life.

In the opposite corner of the ring from our enemy is another Person – our ally, our friend, our creator, our Father.  He has also been planting seeds in our hearts from the moment of our conception.  These are seeds of Truth and love and acceptance, of purpose.

Just like a garden will be overcome entirely with weeds if not properly tended, so our hearts will become overrun with lies, choking out the Truth, if not guarded and maintained with the same care.

What you fertilize is what flourishes.

Fertilizing lies can happen many different ways.  For me, I was seeking my entire sense of approval, acceptance and self-worth in whether or not my brother thought I was cool enough to hang with he and his friends.  And before then, it was whether or not my parents noticed I was missing “fast enough”.

And it manifested itself in my behavior – always being the “good one”, the “perfect” one, the “popular” one people wanted to be around.  Always concerned with my image and my performance.  Perfect grades, perfect clothes, perfect athlete.  While simultaneously being the perfect partier, the perfect drinker, the perfect flirt and “cool enough” to fit in with whatever crowd I wanted.

Whatever I needed to do to be positively reinforced and affirmed by people in my life.

And this was just rooting those weeds deeper and grooming them for continual growth.

Conversely, fertilizing Truth only happens one way.  By seeking your approval and self-worth from THE Source of Truth.

And it has nothing to do with your clothes, or your grades, your friends, your job, or how well you follow the rules. It has nothing to do with what you can do at all.  It has everything to do with sweetly resting in the fact that God loves you – no matter what.

The last thing I want is for this post to sound hokey and churchy.  To be glossed over and concluded with, “what a friend we have in Jesus”.

The truth is, I didn’t have this revelation while I as living my perfect life and everything was going great for me.  I had this revelation for myself when I was at the bottom of my lowest pit.  I was broken, and battered, I was making bad decision after bad decision and hurting a lot of people in the process. I was disappointed in myself and I imagined so was everyone else.  I felt like I had ruined my life beyond repair.  I had no hope for anything good in my future.

And I was angry at God because I felt like I had played by his rules and lost big time.

It was in this place, when I was running fast and hard and far away from God that He chased after me relentlessly and passionately.  I felt him saying, “Honey, all those thing you think you know about me aren’t true. Come get to know me for yourself.”

He wanted me.  He liked me. He did want me around.

In 2013, Dara Mcclean released a song called “Wanted” (if you’ve never heard it, go listen now) my favorite lyrics are:

From the day you were born
And took your first breath
You opened your eyes and in came the light
He was watching you
But all of your life you couldn’t shake the lies in your head
Saying you’re a mistake
Oh but you were made
By a God who knows your name
He doesn’t make mistakes

You are wanted

The first time I heard those words I cried, and every time since I can barely sing along through my sobs.

I remember driving through downtown Vancouver a couple years ago with my windows down in my rental car blaring music from my phone. The sidewalks were crowded with swarms of bodies.  When that song came on, I remember looking around and really seeing each individual person.  At each stoplight I studied them.  Tears blurred my vision as I wondered, do they know these words are true? Have they ever heard this before?  As they are walking down the road right now are they questioning if they have a purpose or a plan for their life?  This may be the only time they hear this message.

I wish so much that I could open up my head and let people who are hurting inside for even just a minute.  I want them to see what I see, and feel what I feel, and know what I know about their Father who created them.  Who loves them.

Just think about that for a second. The Creator of all the universe looked into it and saw fit to create one of you, that you were needed.  He not only loves you, He likes you.  He wants you.  He knew beforehand every mistake you would ever make and STILL He wanted to bring you to life.  And He STILL wants to be with you now.

Once you really grasp that for yourself, other people’s opinions and approval cease to matter.  You might still shed a few tears over a peewee football mom‘s snarky comments or unwelcoming attitude but at the end of the day you are reminded that you are wanted and welcomed by the One who really matters.

Keep watering those seeds.  And pluck out the weeds of doubt that tell you otherwise.

For the record, I ordered my own tent on the way home, so I will never have to experience that feeling again.  At first I told myself and we will not let a single other person use it but us.  But then I changed my mind and decided the stipulation for our tent will be that it is open to anyone, and everyone is welcome to use it.  I really wanted to order a custom-made banner that read: “Welcome! Come use our tent!” with a line in parenthesis below that said “because we are not ass holes” (haha …this is me still not being perfect.)  But, instead I just ordered a simple “Welcome” banner.

And if green tent mom ever gets stuck in a rainstorm at a game, she will have a place to stay dry and feel wanted.

welcome tent

#56

Skydiving is was on my bucket list. It’s number 56, in fact. I kind of had it penciled in for this Summer, and then my best friend turned 40 and decided that’s what he wanted to do to celebrate. BINGO!

Weeks leading up to the event I was pure bottled excitement and eager anticipation.

My husband had a scheduling conflict arise so that he was not able to join us, and I remember having a strange little flutter of uneasiness. Am I going to be able to do this without him? Won’t I need him there?  Then I reminded myself, I lived a pretty routine life for 25 years before I met him, eight of which included my best friend who I was going to be with, so I would be just fine.

As the day drew closer, I started to feel my excitement turn slightly to nervousness and the night before, I was progressively overcome by sheer, paralyzing terror.

I took a long shower to try and relax my nerves, but sitting on the floor in the steam the words of the mandatory safety waiver video played through my head on a haunting loop, “Skydiving is dangerous and can cause serious injury, or even DEATH. Nothing about skydiving is guaranteed. No parachute manufacturer is perfect, no parachute packer is perfect, no skydiving company is perfect, no instructor is perfect. Equipment can fail. Instructors can fail. Weather can cause unsafe conditions. Strong winds can cause a parachute to collapse….”

And then this thought went through my mind: Was I going to die the next day? Followed by: What if I did? How badly would my husband be crushed? Would he blame himself? How long would his life be derailed? Is this the last day I’m going to spend with him?

I got out of the shower and the words continued to avalanche. I distinctly remember as I smeared lotion on my legs thinking, what if something worse happens – like we crash and I am paralyzed? I just met a quadriplegic who’s walking her faith journey out with God, and feels closer to God now than she ever has. What if God allows that same thing to happen to me? What if God tries to teach me something through an injury? I like my legs. I like being able to use them. Is this the last time I’m going to be able to move them freely myself?

A movie reel played in my head as it zoomed out on this moment: a bird’s eye view of me lotioning my legs was the foreshadowing of what I didn’t know was coming the next day. It’s actually beautifully cinematic, I darkly narrated to myself. Should I just not go through with it to avoid even the possibility of disaster?

I should pray.  But, is this something I am even allowed to pray about? Or am I not allowed to ask for protection for voluntarily jumping out of a plane – literally putting my own life at risk? Am I tempting fate? Tempting the prowling lion looking for lives to devour? Was I moving outside that hedge of supernatural covering I’d so clearly seen and felt protecting me?

I thought about all the things I knew I was created to do that were still undone, and wondered if I was risking letting Satan steal them?

I was almost sick to my stomach with all the thoughts swarming in my head.

I was terrified to say anything out loud, or at least wise enough to know what not to let come out of my mouth. I didn’t want to give life to any of these fears – as statistically improbable or irrational as they were. The seed had been planted and my enemy – the biggest liar in history – was having a field day with it!

I was lying on the bed staring at the ceiling when my husband walked in the room. I’m sure by my deflated body-language alone he could tell I was troubled by something.

“What’s wrong?”

I hesitated to answer. “I think I’m a little bit nervous about tomorrow.”

“Yeah? Are you scared?”

“No, I don’t think I’m scared, I’m just nervous I think.”

“Well, if you don’t want to go, you don’t have to.”

A little defensively, “No, I want to go, I want to go skydiving. I’m going to go at some point in my life, so there’s no reason for it not to be tomorrow. I’m just nervous.”

And he said to me again, “I’m just saying, if you don’t want to go, you don’t have to, you can back out. And it’s ok.”

My eyes lingered on his, trying to communicate what I was feeling without saying the words. All that came out was, “I don’t think that’s what I need you to say to me right now.”

“Oh.” He said. “What do you need me to say to you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you want me to pray for you? Would that help?”

Knowing my friend, I said, “Well, I’m sure Keith will pray tomorrow before we all go up, but, yes, I think that would help.”

He grabbed my hand and began his prayer by thanking God for the day, and for our time together, for Keith and our friendship. He prayed over the rest of our plans for the weekend. For himself to get everything he needed out of the men’s retreat he was attending. He prayed that I would have fun the next day, that I would enjoy every moment and that I wouldn’t be nervous. And then, without a peep out of me, he literally started naming every single specific aspect of the jump the next day, eliminating each of those fears, one-by-one as if he was checking them off a list,

“And God, we ask that you watch over Rachel and Keith, and everyone else skydiving tomorrow. That the weather would be clear and perfect, that there would be no wind, that the plane would fly safely, that all the staff and instructors would be alert and focused, that all the equipment would perform as designed, that each harness and safety clip would function properly, and the parachute would deploy without issue, we ask for a safe landing….”  Tears streamed down my face as I received his words and a peaceful calm settled over my spirit.

I thanked him for praying, and he hugged me for a long time.

“Feel better?”

“Yes! 100%!”

“Not nervous anymore?”

“Nope. Not one bit. I’m pumped!”

He left the room and then I started to think about how sly the devil can be, how he uses the most strategic offenses to wage the warfare where he knows he can win – in our minds. Not only was he was trying to stop me from living life. From experiencing something new and invigorating. From creating a lasting memory with some of my closest and most special friends. But, from living boldly and confidently.

I thought about how conniving he had been, how he had slowly watered and pruned those thoughts as soon as they had been planted in my mind from that video.

What if I had listened to him and not gone?  What if I had let those thoughts overtake me and given life to those fears, given life to death, given it permission to come for me that next day?

The tongue is a “small part of the body” (James 3:5), yet Proverbs 18:21 says it “has the power of life and death.” This holds true whether we’re speaking of spiritual, physical, or emotional “life and death.”

And that’s when I got mad. How dare he?

I have already conquered this area of my life so many times and in so many ways. I have already learned to control my thoughts and mind my words. I mean, this is beginner faith stuff.  I learned this a looooong time ago. There is a whole chapter on it in my book for crying out loud!!  How dare he work his way back in there?  Satan is not welcome in my mind.

You May Have To.jpg

And then I saw how easy it was, how quickly he worked back into that driver’s seat, darting my thoughts all over the place. How rapidly I spiraled down that dark, dangerous rabbit hole. And I was reminded again how vitally important it is to constantly be renewing and guarding my mind.  It’s not a one-time thing.  It’s an every day thing.

And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect, will of God. (- Romans 12:2)

I felt like Vince Lombardi was standing in front of me, pigskin in hand, uttering, “This is a football.”  The basics. The basics are the basics for a reason, in sports or faith or any other arena of life. They are building blocks, the foundation on which we build [the rest] upon. And if your foundation starts weakening, it won’t be long until your whole house crumbles.

Now am I saying it was God’s “will” for me to go skydiving? Maybe I am. I don’t know. But I do know it is NOT God’s will for me to live a life of fear and timidity, weak and limited, a life of mediocrity.

God has created and called each and every one of us to a life FULL of adventure, of taking new ground, of winning battles (even if they are just in our minds), and of doing it all for and with and because of Him. Because he has empowered us to do so. 
And don’t you forget it. The next time those voices of fear and uncertainty start to creep in, silence them quickly before they paralyze your faith.  Because if you don’t, you’ll miss out on awesome stuff like this: