Tuesday, October 29, 2013

Do you feel this way?


I’ll be 32 in just a few weeks.

I don’t have any problems with the age, per se. I live a fairly typical 32-year-old life, and a pretty good one at that. From the outside, I look, talk and live like a 30-something year old woman.

What I’m concerned about is that maybe on the inside I’m not where I picture a woman of my age to be.

Confident. Graceful. Sure. Settled.

In my mind, a 32-year-old doesn’t worry about what others think. She isn’t insecure. She isn’t confused or weak and certainly doesn’t question where she’s headed, or what life has in store for her. She’s got her act together and is the picture of ladylike poise.

And yet, here I sit, 6 weeks away from that confident, graceful, sure and settled ideal, feeling so very far from it.

Have you ever felt this way?

Recently I read this post about twirling – that act of pushing off everything that hinders (insecurities, failures, aspirations) and dancing through life knowing that we are loved. Not because we are doing everything right, or because we have it all together, but because He first loved us. It’s so much less about the actual dancing (a cheesy metaphor for living life) and more about the heart in knowing we are delightfully and perfectly made, just as we are.

Twirl.

So this is what bothers me: I’m nearly 32, certainly old enough both in years and in my own personal faith in Jesus to conceptually understand all this. To live this. To let go of those stupid insecurities about not being good enough, pretty enough, talented enough, successful enough… and just believe what I know to be true: that each and every one of us are exceptionally talented, created for a unique purpose and most of all, accepted through grace just as we are and not for who we ought to be.

I’ve been in a weird spot over the last year or so, plugging away, but not really sure of where I’m headed. What are my goals? What is my dream of all dreams? It’s all been a bit cloudy and unclear and so I found myself looking around at what others were doing thinking maybe that’s where I would find the answers.

She’s writing a book - I should write a book!

She’s selling all of her possessions and touring the country - I should do that!

She's got three kids, a mansion, and works from home - I should have all that by now too!

She’s (fill-in-the-blank) - I should (fill-in-the-blank)!

Unfortunately, all this did was perpetuate my confusion and frustration and bury me further in the comparison pit (a place I know all too well). We've visited this concept several times here on the blog...

... but, have you ever been there?

I’ve spent these past few months quietly praying, looking for clues, waiting and waiting and the clearest answer just came to me clear out of the blue driving home one day a few weeks ago.

I'm not certain if it was the song I was listening to, or if my train of thought just kept chugging along without me, but as I sat in the driver’s seat, I envisioned a beautiful ballet of life play out before me. And all these fears about not being good enough, not doing it right, unsure, unsettled, afraid of what others will think – suddenly I realized just how much time I’ve been wasting. I’m hiding my head under a silly paper bag watching the world fly by while everyone else does their lovely twirls and spins.

It was then that I heard this little whisper in my soul: Rochelle, do your thing.

That’s it.

Just do your thing.

That’s the answer. And it’s ridiculously simple.

Twirl.

Twirling is about unashamed dancing. It’s about delighting in our femininity. It’s about accepting God’s absolutely profound love and finding freedom. But it’s also about just doing our thing. Not only being who we are, but actually celebrating who we are. It’s a quiet confidence. Graceful presence. Living out our unique talents, seeing the beauty within each of us and sharing it with one another.

The best thing about it is that there is no magical age when it appears. I’ve been wrong all this time about that. This confidence, grace, assuredness, is available to all of us, at any age, for as long as we choose.

I love that.

I’ll be 32 in a few weeks and while I am not the picture of confidence and maturity that I envision, I feel like I’ve made a big step in that direction. I’m so tired of the insecurities. I don’t want to live with this ugly striving and unsettled discontentment. I want the freedom to do my thing. As clunky as it may be or as graceful as it be become, I just want to be who God made me to be, share my life, love and live well.

I want to twirl.

You too?

Can I be your support team - your positive reinforcement? Can you be mine?

Be encouraged, wherever you are today, that you are wonderful. You are uniquely talented. You are valuable. And because of Jesus’ great love for you, you are deemed enough.

Now, just do your thing.

Tuesday, October 15, 2013

Somewhere Over the Rainbow...

(photo is me pregnant with our precious rainbow baby)

The truth is I have been putting this off, I was sort of going to "breeze by" today and not mention it. But as I sat down to work on a blog post for tonight, I thought... the babies lost deserve it. They deserve to be remembered, to be celebrated. 

Our baby boy deserves it. He deserves me to revisit the heartbreak and light a candle and relive the dream we had for that precious life.

His short life was one who didn't walk here along side of me, but that one that forever changed my life. 
A brief life yet so much meaning.

October 15.

Sweet baby... I haven't forgotten. Who I am is different because of the impact you had on my life. The sweet whisper that came and left. A day doesn't go by that I don't remember you. 

So many sweet ladies out there suffer in silence. You aren't alone. 

The candle burns in sweet remembrance of our baby. For your baby. For all the ones that went straight to the feet of Jesus. There are moments, moments that take my breath away... a glimpse that he hasn't been forgotten. A little life that impacted so many so quickly. 

I love you son. Mommy and Daddy cannot wait to squeeze you so tight one day. I know that I will recognize you in an instant love. 

You are so precious to me. I love you. 
Heaven is holding you tight for me till I get there love.

Friday, August 2, 2013

Misery is Good. Enjoy it while it lasts...

Some weeks are arguably easier and smoother to get through than others. When I have something to look forward to I have momentum to push me through boringboredom. Like planning a wedding, it's an extended period of time rushing and planning and then executing this thing you've been building up in your head... and then... it's over.

Just like that. All the hoopla, joy, satisfaction, attention... gone. Like a rug has been pulled out from underneath you. And you're stuck again with the same old crap.

It must be what a drug addict feels like — endlessly searching for that high, the adrenaline that comes with temporary fame and glory. And then the huge letdown, the crash, until it begins again. Life is cyclical.

"Fame is fleeting. Obscurity is forever. I’ll take obscurity."
- Napolean

I have a full-time job, a husband, and a hundred responsibilities: there is never a shortage of bills to pay, or clothes to wash, or dishes to clean, or thank-you notes to write, and phone calls to make, and meals to artfully craft, etc. I rush back home at six every night to let out the dog, feed the fur-kids, and I sometimes just want it all to stop for a moment so I can breathe, so I can escape and feel free.

Eleven years ago, I broke off my engagement to my long-term boyfriend and my whole life fell on my head. With him I had spent several years drifting around town rootlessly, eating only top Ramen and other disgusting processed foods and living in 10 x 10 x 6' attic rooms with little else than a mattress to my name. All I wanted was security, a family, a place to call home. I fantasized about it — the nice house, the nice husband, kids, blah blah blah. For a long time I let myself believe that he could be that nice husband, yet in this relationship I felt truly pathetic, lonely and unloved.

As I’m writing this now, I’m realizing that it was actually an amazing time. There is something really beautiful about not knowing which f*ing end is up and where you belong.

These days, I am really far from being a homeless drifter urchin. Being settled — as a wife with a career and a home of my own — was all I wanted for years and years. And trust me when I say that I am so incredibly grateful, and that I believe that the work we've put in has been worth the while. But I’d be lying if I said I didn't miss the days when I had none of it. There was something really light about those very dark times.

I'm a dreamer. I'm also a jealous girl of those who seem to have it all. Career, family, friends, and still manage to have fun. I have to constantly remind myself...


I dream of leaving this security for the freedom of managing myself — being disciplined enough to be successful on my own terms, and without the 'grownups' breathing down my neck about deadlines I couldn't care less about. It's a-l-m-o-s-t within reach... and it feels like it just might be my time.

Friends, keep on keeping on down the long, long road. Enjoy your single life while you can. The heartbreaks, the pain, the sucky, confusing, horrible-ness of it all. Surf the couches, feel the pain, wear the heels, cry your eyes out, spend all day in the dark thinking only about youyouyou. Work your heart to it’s core and discover who you really are deep down inside. Then do it all again. You’ll find your way in this life when it’s time.

xoxo,
Chelle