Big Girl Shoes.

Writing can be a mask. It allows me to hide behind my words. There is no obvious tone or rather, I can create whatever tone I desire. The reader is only exposed to what I choose to put down. Letters in black & white. All the frustrations of the day, fear in my circumstances, joy in my salvation is only revealed to the degree in which I choose. I can be harsh or kind and there is a sense of confidence because you can't see me. My life could be a wreck. I could be a wreck and I could hide behind my words. Appearing to have on my big girl shoes.

Now, if you call me on the phone, you might be able to obtain a better sense of my actual state. Really though, I can mask that with choice words & pull out the fake "happy voice". I mean tell me if you haven't experienced your mom laying into you only to be interrupted by the phone ringing. It's a miracle how she goes from screaming crazy lady to the pleasant christian with, "HI! :D How are you? Busy? Nope, not doing a thing." How she didn't have a stroke from her brain switching gears so quickly still baffles me. :) These days, I am capable of being that mom. I have been that mom. Do I want to be? Super easy to hide behind the lines of a telephone or the strokes of a key board even though my big girl shoes are obviously too big.

So what happens when Sunday morning rolls around, seems like the morning couldn't get any worse & then it does? What happens when shoes can't be found, KEYS can't be found? Kids aren't listening. I buckle a girl into her seat only to realize she pooped in her diaper on the way to the van!? BAAAH! Frustration has hit the ceiling. I walk into church, slap on a smile & hope no one notices what I'm trying to bury under the surface. It takes about a half a second for someone to ask,"Are you okay?" And I am undone. Wishing I was in a bed with blankets covering my head. How did they know? The smile didn't work. They don't really want to know how I am.

Over the years, I have learned something about myself- I cannot hide my heart. At least not face to face.  Especially if I am struggling or annoyed/irritated. To be completely honest, it is NOT intentional that I wear my heart on my sleeve or rather, ALL OVER MY FACE! At moments, I wish I could hide it. Sometimes, I just need a moment to work it out in my head but my face shows the yucky tha t is in my heart-even if just for a moment. That can be really embarrassing. Attempting to run away without making it totally obvious & tripping in my big girl shoes.

As I've grown and learned this about myself, really and truly, I appreciate this feature that God created in me. It forces me to face my issues rather than bury them. Even if I want to ignore it, my face doesn't lie. It tries. It fails. I can't backspace it. I can't white it out. My face is constantly exposed. Vulnerable to the condition of my heart. It doesn't mean I haven't lied and said I was fine when I wasn't. It doesn't mean the person didn't walk away satisfied with that answer. But I know. I know they saw it in my face. They saw my heart. Even if for just a moment.

Jesus says:

So what can I take away from this? What does this mean for me? This truth forces me to look inside and ask myself what it is that I value. Where does my treasure lie? Far too often my treasure is found in convenience. It is found in what I wish I had. It is found in things other than loving Jesus & bringing him glory.

It means, I seek after Jesus more every day. Ask him to make me gentle and kind. Seek him to know him. So that my heart will produce good and not evil. So that my face would show is glory and not my funk. And when things should arise, as they do in this flesh, I keep accounts short and don't attempt to hide in my pride as if I'm better than I am.

Desiring to be 

just.like.Him. 

Knowing when I fall

He will pick me up.

Trusting Him to help me 

fill my big girl shoes.