What is your personality according to Meyer-Briggs?
This is the topic of conversation frequently among my group of friends. It is interesting to see how everyone "stacks up" but I have learned to hold the test results in an open hand. One will not stay their personality type forever or across all environments, in my experience. I took the test a few months ago and was 100% introvert. But, as I have begun to face my insecurities, self-judgement, pride, and frankly, my sin, I see how I have used the label of "introvert" to cover my sin. I am more extroverted and outgoing than I once was. When I am less worried about what people think and more confident in my standing in Christ, I actually love being around people and am energized by them, not exhausted by them. I think I am more in the middle than far to the introvert side of the spectrum.
But there is one aspect of my personality that I think has hindered my understanding of people, God and the gospel. It's the black-and-white aspect of my personality. I think the Meyers-Briggs test would classify that as Judging vs Perceiving. It's Black-and-White vs Gray. I tend to be very black-and-white, but I think that can work against grace in my mind. Since I see things as black-and-white, if someone does something bad, or if I do something bad, I classify that person or myself as "all bad." There is no gray area for my mind to classify things in. When in reality, we are all bad and Jesus is all good. And because of Jesus we are all (regardless of ability or behavior) classified as good. But we are bad and we do bad things. But we also do good things. So we are both bad and good. We are gray. The reconciling of this black, white, and gray, wars in my mind. Maybe the black/white aspect of my personality isn't how it's really supposed to be? What if I'm not understanding grace and excusing it because "it's not my personality"?
These are some things I am thinking about. I have held up the Meyers-Briggs personality type test as gospel, when really it's just a tool. The Gospel is gospel.
And Jesus is ALL the personality types.
Monday, June 29, 2015
Thursday, June 25, 2015
Kindness to my body
What does kindness to my body look like?
My whole life, as long as I can remember, I have hated one part or another of my body. It's too big here, too small there, it's just wrong. Food wasn't for fueling my body, food was an enemy. But sometimes it was a friend, my only friend. Food is what makes my body look wrong, so therefore food is wrong. It can't possibly be that my idea of what is "right" is wrong. No. No. Maybe? Food was a friend, my only friend at times because it was always there for me. It didn't criticize or talk bad to me. It didn't get jealous when I did something better or got chosen for something. It didn't get chosen and leave me feeling left out. It didn't get the cute boy-attention and comforted me when I didn't get the cute boy-attention.
It was there when my friend was in another country, my closest friend moved 5,000 miles away and left me alone in high school with a douchbag boyfriend. Food, you are my friend, my only friend, who won't take something from me that I'm not willing to give freely. But I also hate you. I can't eat you, because then I would get fat. Oh wait, I see a way. I can eat you then feel guilty and throw you up or overexercise. Nobody noticed. NOBODY NOTICED. Nobody said anything. Nobody said, "Addie, stop."
Well, when that friend came home she said something. She's a good friend. But Food, you're better.
How can I "break up" with food, when legitimately I do need it? And legitimately it is a friend? What does a kind relationship with food look like? What does being kind to my body look like?
I think kindness to my body in the area of food looks like eating healthy things, foods that will sustain my energy to manage and have fun with my kids. Food that is a good investment. Food is fuel. Food is fun. My body isn't a garbage can for garbage food.
My whole life, as long as I can remember, I have hated one part or another of my body. It's too big here, too small there, it's just wrong. Food wasn't for fueling my body, food was an enemy. But sometimes it was a friend, my only friend. Food is what makes my body look wrong, so therefore food is wrong. It can't possibly be that my idea of what is "right" is wrong. No. No. Maybe? Food was a friend, my only friend at times because it was always there for me. It didn't criticize or talk bad to me. It didn't get jealous when I did something better or got chosen for something. It didn't get chosen and leave me feeling left out. It didn't get the cute boy-attention and comforted me when I didn't get the cute boy-attention.
It was there when my friend was in another country, my closest friend moved 5,000 miles away and left me alone in high school with a douchbag boyfriend. Food, you are my friend, my only friend, who won't take something from me that I'm not willing to give freely. But I also hate you. I can't eat you, because then I would get fat. Oh wait, I see a way. I can eat you then feel guilty and throw you up or overexercise. Nobody noticed. NOBODY NOTICED. Nobody said anything. Nobody said, "Addie, stop."
Well, when that friend came home she said something. She's a good friend. But Food, you're better.
How can I "break up" with food, when legitimately I do need it? And legitimately it is a friend? What does a kind relationship with food look like? What does being kind to my body look like?
I think kindness to my body in the area of food looks like eating healthy things, foods that will sustain my energy to manage and have fun with my kids. Food that is a good investment. Food is fuel. Food is fun. My body isn't a garbage can for garbage food.
Huh...
A new feeling. Trying something new and not because I want to try really hard. It just happened. A familiar situation which has been difficult in the past and one to which I have responded poorly. But this time, something new. Peace. Grace. Happiness. No envy, no judgement, no pain. Just normal. And it's so refreshing and wonderful. Why did it just happen? It might be the nutritional support, or the peace that comes from actually forgiving those in my past. Whatever it is, it's grace pure and simple. Thank you Jesus for the peace that comes with forgiving others as I have been forgiven. It's more of a gift to myself than to the person I have forgiven.
Monday, June 15, 2015
Rocks
Rocks
Colliding against one another
The rocks in the ocean or on the shore
are big and jagged
The rocks on the beach
are smooth and rounded
Much smaller
The smaller and smoother rocks
are more weathered and worn
More treated by their
Creator
Surrounded by other rocks just
like them
How is the church like these rocks?
How is God gives other people
to bump and push against
Challenging us to break off
the rough and jagged parts
and polish slowly what is left
How can the process of
sanctification be like the
process of rocks being turned into
sand?
Sometime the big rocks
collide and crack, then
break completely
Entire pieces break off and
the rock is completely
changed.
The change can be
quick and violent
or
the change can be
slow and gradual
Thursday, June 11, 2015
Kindness
God's kindness to me. My own kindness to me. I don't even know what that looks like. I've hurt and abused and neglected myself for so long. I can't get past the sad right now. I am sad for what I've experienced and what my paradigm of thinking has been for so long. Is that pride? Or am I just sad?
I have been very afraid of sharing my opinion. It has not been okay for me to say, "I disagree" or "I'm not okay." It has not been okay to ask a question. Just the other day when I asked my friend a question, a simple question, a clarifying question, I felt guilty for asking it, like it wasn't my place and it was "sin" to even ask. I haven't been allowed to have my voice without being judged, ridiculed, or punished. Sometimes the punishment has been as small as a look of disapproval, or a tone of voice that says, "You're stupid for asking that question." Disapproval for so long has meant "bad." Correction for so long has meant "stupid."
I also notice my awkwardness when talking with people. Smiling at the right time, but not necessarily when my heart says I should. Saying, "uh huh" when the other person pauses but sometimes it feels forced. Following all the right rules of polite conversation but because I'm self-conscious, not because I really care or understand. Because asking a question would be I'm stupid for not getting it the first time.
Apparently I have a displeased resting face. Or "bitch face." It's just the way my face looks! I don't know what to do! Maybe it's an indicator of my teetering on the edge of a black hole that I will fall into and be unable to stop. Maybe that face of displeasure is not because I'm judging others (which, let's face it, I do), but more because I'm constantly judging myself. I'm constantly uncomfortable for one reason or another. Even during intimacy with my husband. It hurts to say that.
So what does kindness look like to myself? Being okay with my resting bitch face? Not being self-conscious of it? Honestly asking questions when I don't understand something? Honestly answering the question "how are you"?
Probably all of those things.
I have been very afraid of sharing my opinion. It has not been okay for me to say, "I disagree" or "I'm not okay." It has not been okay to ask a question. Just the other day when I asked my friend a question, a simple question, a clarifying question, I felt guilty for asking it, like it wasn't my place and it was "sin" to even ask. I haven't been allowed to have my voice without being judged, ridiculed, or punished. Sometimes the punishment has been as small as a look of disapproval, or a tone of voice that says, "You're stupid for asking that question." Disapproval for so long has meant "bad." Correction for so long has meant "stupid."
I also notice my awkwardness when talking with people. Smiling at the right time, but not necessarily when my heart says I should. Saying, "uh huh" when the other person pauses but sometimes it feels forced. Following all the right rules of polite conversation but because I'm self-conscious, not because I really care or understand. Because asking a question would be I'm stupid for not getting it the first time.
Apparently I have a displeased resting face. Or "bitch face." It's just the way my face looks! I don't know what to do! Maybe it's an indicator of my teetering on the edge of a black hole that I will fall into and be unable to stop. Maybe that face of displeasure is not because I'm judging others (which, let's face it, I do), but more because I'm constantly judging myself. I'm constantly uncomfortable for one reason or another. Even during intimacy with my husband. It hurts to say that.
So what does kindness look like to myself? Being okay with my resting bitch face? Not being self-conscious of it? Honestly asking questions when I don't understand something? Honestly answering the question "how are you"?
Probably all of those things.
Monday, June 8, 2015
**Within a few hours of this despair and writing, God reminded me through the friend of whom I refer to in this post that I am remembered, I am loved, and I am considered a best friend. Thank you Jesus for pointing me to people who love you and also love me and are not like former friends I have had.**
That frustrating feeling. Someone else has what I want. I want that midmorning coffee break with a friend. I have that, often actually. But I don't have it like I want it. I'm disappointed. When my friends make time to meet for a coffee break, and on "best friend day" I am sitting by myself doing a puzzle and overseeing schoolwork with my kids. It is hidden. Nothing to be admired. I hear those lies that say I am unimportant. That I was lied too. It hurts when I ask my friend what she's doing this week and she says she's working in her kids' classrooms all day. Then the next day I see her doing something fun. It makes me sad. I feel lied to.
She didn't really lie to me. She doesn't have to justify herself to me, nor I to her. But why does it have to be public? Why does it bother me? But it still does. It feels like a judgement. I hear, "Hey, it's best friends day and I didn't ask you to join me for a best friends coffee. You're not as important as me. I'm not going to make time for you." Why does it feel like a judgement? If she listed her best friends (and there is more than one), I know I would be on that list.
She is a safe person but this judgement makes it feel unsafe. The judgement isn't coming from her, but from me. I am what makes it unsafe. The comparing. What is wrong with me? Why do I do this?
It hurts because I was hurt like that before. The way Gina treated me was wrong. She said with her words and actions, "I only have room for one best friend and you're not it. And the reason you're not it is because there's something wrong with you, something I don't want to associate with." And she put it on display. The judgement comes from that pain, that abuse from Gina. She mistreated me and hurt me on purpose and told me it was because there was something wrong with me. I didn't give her the status she wanted from her friends. I wasn't "cool enough."
That. Was. Sin. Against. Me.
That's not on me, that's on her.
And punishing my current friends for what Gina did to me doesn't get me anything but hurt and anger and despair.
Yesterday I taught Sunday School and it was about the stoning of Stephen in Acts. Even though the pharisees and Sanhedrin were lying about Stephen and trying to trap him and eventually kill him, Stephen forgave. Instead of carrying around that heavy stone of what was done to him, he put that stone down and forgave.
I have been carrying the stone of Gina's sins against me around for a long time. I may never reconcile with her and I probably won't hear an apology from her. I don't know where she is living or moreover, where she is with Christ. Probably pretty far away. But I have been carrying this weight of pain from her around and it's simply too heavy to bear. It might not have been that heavy to begin with but simply that I've been carrying it for 20+ years has made me tired and worn. And every time a friend now does something that echoes that hurt from Gina, I get angry again. I get mad that I'm still carrying that weight. I try to throw that stone at my current friends, but that just leaves all of us confused and hurt.
Jesus. I don't know where Gina is or what she's doing. I have been hurt by her. She treated me unfairly, she judged me, she abadoned me. My current friends are not like her. They're not perfect but they are not like she was. I am tired of carrying around this weight of unforgiveness.
Jesus. I forgive Gina for telling me I wasn't cool enough, good enough, popular enough. I forgive her for not being a good friend to me. I forgive her for her sins against me. I am ready to put down this weight. She believed she could only have one best friend, but that's not true. I have many best friends. And those friends in turn have many best friends. It is possible to have a group of friends and still be okay. I am not "less-than" if I don't see people or interact in the same way. I am not justified by how often I interact with my friends. I am justified by Christ. Please help me stop punishing my friends and myself for the things Gina did to me, because you died for those things.
That frustrating feeling. Someone else has what I want. I want that midmorning coffee break with a friend. I have that, often actually. But I don't have it like I want it. I'm disappointed. When my friends make time to meet for a coffee break, and on "best friend day" I am sitting by myself doing a puzzle and overseeing schoolwork with my kids. It is hidden. Nothing to be admired. I hear those lies that say I am unimportant. That I was lied too. It hurts when I ask my friend what she's doing this week and she says she's working in her kids' classrooms all day. Then the next day I see her doing something fun. It makes me sad. I feel lied to.
She didn't really lie to me. She doesn't have to justify herself to me, nor I to her. But why does it have to be public? Why does it bother me? But it still does. It feels like a judgement. I hear, "Hey, it's best friends day and I didn't ask you to join me for a best friends coffee. You're not as important as me. I'm not going to make time for you." Why does it feel like a judgement? If she listed her best friends (and there is more than one), I know I would be on that list.
She is a safe person but this judgement makes it feel unsafe. The judgement isn't coming from her, but from me. I am what makes it unsafe. The comparing. What is wrong with me? Why do I do this?
It hurts because I was hurt like that before. The way Gina treated me was wrong. She said with her words and actions, "I only have room for one best friend and you're not it. And the reason you're not it is because there's something wrong with you, something I don't want to associate with." And she put it on display. The judgement comes from that pain, that abuse from Gina. She mistreated me and hurt me on purpose and told me it was because there was something wrong with me. I didn't give her the status she wanted from her friends. I wasn't "cool enough."
That. Was. Sin. Against. Me.
That's not on me, that's on her.
And punishing my current friends for what Gina did to me doesn't get me anything but hurt and anger and despair.
Yesterday I taught Sunday School and it was about the stoning of Stephen in Acts. Even though the pharisees and Sanhedrin were lying about Stephen and trying to trap him and eventually kill him, Stephen forgave. Instead of carrying around that heavy stone of what was done to him, he put that stone down and forgave.
I have been carrying the stone of Gina's sins against me around for a long time. I may never reconcile with her and I probably won't hear an apology from her. I don't know where she is living or moreover, where she is with Christ. Probably pretty far away. But I have been carrying this weight of pain from her around and it's simply too heavy to bear. It might not have been that heavy to begin with but simply that I've been carrying it for 20+ years has made me tired and worn. And every time a friend now does something that echoes that hurt from Gina, I get angry again. I get mad that I'm still carrying that weight. I try to throw that stone at my current friends, but that just leaves all of us confused and hurt.
Jesus. I don't know where Gina is or what she's doing. I have been hurt by her. She treated me unfairly, she judged me, she abadoned me. My current friends are not like her. They're not perfect but they are not like she was. I am tired of carrying around this weight of unforgiveness.
Jesus. I forgive Gina for telling me I wasn't cool enough, good enough, popular enough. I forgive her for not being a good friend to me. I forgive her for her sins against me. I am ready to put down this weight. She believed she could only have one best friend, but that's not true. I have many best friends. And those friends in turn have many best friends. It is possible to have a group of friends and still be okay. I am not "less-than" if I don't see people or interact in the same way. I am not justified by how often I interact with my friends. I am justified by Christ. Please help me stop punishing my friends and myself for the things Gina did to me, because you died for those things.
Sunday, June 7, 2015
Chapter 1
Hannah looked across the table at her brother Caleb. Tonight for dinner she made pot roast with carrots and cabbage and onions just the way he likes it. She had also made some fresh rolls.
"Hannah will you pass the water?"
"yes of course," she replied.
This is how most of the evening's passe, sitting across from one another quietly. It always felt like there was tension in the air, like he was always disappointed in her for some reason. She could never really put her finger on it, and he never offered a reason.
"I'm going into the city tomorrow, do you need anything from the general store," caleb said.
"No but thanks for offering," Hannah replied.
The sun was going down and as they finished up dinner, Hannah cleared the table and got started on the dishes and preparing the kitchen for the next morning's breakfast.
They went to their respective rooms after a tense good night.
Hannah didn't mind living with her brother Caleb. After their parents have died he had taken over her finances and in return she took care of him around the house and sometimes helped on their farm in West Virginia. Aside from the intimacy a wife is expected to provide her husband, she was basically Caleb's wife.
Ruminations upon the unsafe
The concept of safety eludes me. I know I consider myself people at the daily advance of kids and where we need to be makes the practical safety hard to imagine. I want to be safe and share something with my husband, but our kids are always there, our kids are always getting in the way. And it just never seems like the right time to be safe and to be vulnerable.
I saw my friend (and sister) recently and felt like I wanted to share my writing with her, we are one of my poems. It was something I had been thinking about for a long time but it was never the right time for one reason or another. When I got ready to share my writing my son started screaming and interrupted the mood. What if I am safe because I haven't had time to myself? What if that promulgates my unsafely?
What if, given the time and emotional energy, I really am safe? What if it is unfair to myself to call myself unsafe?
I can barely manage time by myself or time with my husband. How can I be expected to have the time to be safe with other people? Is 10 little ears are always listening, always over here and everything I have to say. I love them but I am starting to understand why I'm so exhausted.
I long to have that on interrupted time with my friends...what if by the time I get there i've forgotten what it's like to be safe? What if my unsafety isn't from something that happened to me? What if my unsafety isnt from being victimized or abused but rather because of other things.
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