Lies Anxiety Tells Us.

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Anxiety is ruthless.

And while this post last week was an encouragement to respect our fears and listen to where they come from, we do not have to listen to the lies they spin.

Anxiety is a nightmare.

Someone once told me that if I truly believe that God is bigger than anything and everything, then I wouldn’t have such crippling anxiety.

She obviously doesn’t struggle with anxiety.

It’s a war zone. a series of battles inside of myself that are sometimes won and sometimes lost.

Some days I wake up and I am ready to take on the world, and other days going outside seems like an outrageous task.

Anxiety spins lies in our brain like “You are not good enough”, “you can’t do this”, “you are a mess”.

It takes a seemingly simple work party, or a trip to the park, or a grocery store run feel like climbing Everest in bare feet and a bathing suit.

It steals precious moments from our lives without us even knowing it.

Most nights when I come home, I sit on the couch and take a deep breath and realize my shoulders have been clenched up to my ears all day.

Anxiety. The silent dictator.

A wise person once told me to let fear ride in the passenger seat, but not to let it drive.

I love this imagery.

I imagine this faceless person next to me in a cute convertible, they reach to change the station and I say, “no way. you can ride along, but I’m in charge of the details”.

I know It may sound incredibly weird to actually give your anxiety permission to be a part of things, but really all anxiety is, is a part of ourselves that wants to be heard. That doesn’t mean that we have to live our whole lives enslaved by it and it is a frustratingly ongoing process. But by letting our anxiety sit in the passenger seat, we can keep an eye on it and allow it to feel heard, while still driving the car.

I know sometimes the burden of anxiety seems too great, and it feels like there’s nothing you can do to get off of the hamster wheel. Sometimes the last thing we feel we can do is muster up a corny pep talk.

So when that is the case, and you’re missing one more social event because you’re in panic mode, tell yourself that you’re doing the best that you can, snuggle up on the coach or draw yourself a nice bath, and give yourself a break.

Anxiety sucks you guys, and the least we can do is be on our own side.

 

I Don’t Want To Be A Christian Anymore.

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I don’t want to be a Christian anymore.

I am so tired.

Lately I see too many things being done in the name of God that I can’t make sense of.

It’s hard for me to see Jesus when we’re turning away refugees in fear, or shaming our brothers and sisters for their sexual orientation.

I don’t blame anyone for hating Christians right now.

I wouldn’t like us very much either.

How often do selfishness, pride, and anger drive decisions and words?

Lord have mercy.

Can we blame those who don’t trust Christians? Those who don’t want to step foot in a church?

I don’t want to be a Christian anymore.

I don’t want to belong to this agenda, this hate, this Christian chaos around me.

I want to be a part of a different Christianity. One that seeks out love above all else. One that welcomes the homeless, feeds the poor, loves the broken. I know many that live this way. And I am thankful that there are still those living with their arms reaching to Jesus, running after Him with all that they are. Those that desire to be more like Him.

But right now, the spotlight is on a different kind of Christianity. The kind I want no part of. The kind where people speak just to hear their own voices and quote the words of Jesus to meet their own agenda.

It is sickening. And my heart is saddened that the world is seeing that and not the love of Jesus.

Is that not what we are called to do in this world? To be the love of Jesus? That is all that is asked of us. Not to condemn others, or shame them, or drag them into a relationship with Christ. But to love like Jesus.

He is in control of all else.

 

What My Instagram Doesn’t Tell You.

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So once upon a time (or in 1837) to be exact, this guy named Louis Daguerre invented the first semi-practical camera. And that was the beginning of it all.

At first, photographs were so difficult to take that only royalty could afford such a luxury. These photographs were used solely for historical purposes. No one had millions of photographs all over their houses. But then of course it began to evolve. As the photography process got simpler, more and more people were able to benefit from it.

And now here were are, able to take photographs from many different devices. We can print them, post them, and send them from our email through the abyss to someone else’s email. It’s unbelievable isn’t it?

I love pictures. I’m not always so good at remembering to take them, but I love looking back on the most perfect moments of my life and remembering. That’s usually what we take pictures of, isn’t it? The perfect moments, the smiling moments, the moments we never want to forget.

Thanks to modern technology, many of our relationships are based on pictures. How many friends from high school and college do you rarely talk to, but follow on social media through their pictures? For me, it’s a whole lot. It’s pretty incredible actually.

But I think that we forget sometimes that they’re just pictures.

We forget that nobody is posting on Instagram the angle that highlights that zit on their chin, or the pictures of their children throwing a tantrum at the grocery store. We just don’t. We like to capture the moments we want to remember.

My Instagram is a sea of pictures of Max (my apologies to all who follow me), with the occasional photo of Eric and I, usually looking our best and properly edited. Nothing wrong with that, right? But there’s a lot of other stuff to our life too.

I’m not taking pictures of the hard days, the ones that make me want to crawl back into bed. I’m not grabbing a selfie while Eric and I are deep in a heated argument. I’m not posting pictures of myself mid panic attack.

Pictures are not a full representation of anyones life. They just aren’t.

And I think that we forget that.

We look at other people’s lives through pictures and it feels like our lives suck. Like we’ve missed the perfect train that everyone else is riding.

Sometimes we just need to take a breath and remember that real lives are happening behind those pictures of real people, flawed as us.

Though pictures may not always show it, life is pretty messy for all of us.

So the next time you see a picture of someone else’s life that makes you feel inferior, remember, that it is just a picture, and they are just a person.

 

 

Don’t Ask Me What I Do For A Living.

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It is without a doubt my least favorite question. But I ask other people just as much as they ask me. It’s an ice breaker, a way to get to know  someone in one simple question.

But here’s why I dislike it so much.

It ultimately tells us very little about the other person.

What someone does from 9-5 is only a small part of who they are.

If all someone ever asked me was what I do for a living, they would get an answer disconnected from who I am. But if someone asked me what I love or what I am passionate about, they would know that I am a writer, a creator, passionate about vulnerability and loving the broken.

In fact most of my favorite people have boring jobs that they don’t love and that have nothing to do with what they are passionate about. That’s just how they pay the bills. What happens when they are not at work is what makes them so fascinating.

When I am out and about, I often wonder about the the people that I meet. The cash register at the grocery store, the bus driver I pass every morning, the barista making my coffee. What do the rest of their lives look like? Are they a single parent raising three young ones on their own? A cancer survivor? A future doctor putting themselves through medical school?

What they currently do for a living would tell me so little about them.

From now on, when I meet someone, I am going to ask them what they’re passionate about. Because there is so much more to people than what they do for a living.

 

 

 

Is It Holiday Joy or Holiday Cheer?

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I love Christmas.

I love the colors, and the lights, and the food, and the parties.

I feel unusually happy this time of year. Next year has not yet started, and I am hopeful about what is to come (at least until January sets in, but that’s another post).

Most people would define this elated Christmas spirit as joy. After all, that’s a key Christmastime word, especially for Christians. But I think it’s actually something a little bit less than joy, and a little bit more like holiday cheer.

Now don’t get me wrong, holiday cheer is awesome! But joy should not be confused with it, because they are quite different, even though they initially give us that same warm feeling inside.

So first let me define holiday cheer, for those of you wondering. Holiday cheer is that feeling you get when your Christmas tree is decorated to perfection, and there are cookies baking in the oven. It’s that feeling that you get when you walk into a department store and there’s tinsel in every corner, and big wreaths, and lights. It’s your first peppermint mocha of the season.

Holiday cheer is so wonderful, but it is not to be confused with true joy.

True joy can weather any storm.

It is there during the holidays, through the mundane, and even in the deepest pain and suffering.

Joy is powerful.

Joy is more than a season where all seems merry and bright.

It is more than a peppermint mocha, or the beauty of bright lights, or the warmth of a holiday party.

And so I challenge us this season to give true joy the recognition it deserves and not just lump it in with the excitement of the Holidays.

Because true joy cannot be seen very well in the good times, but instead shines brightly in the darkest of places.

I wish you all a season of holiday cheer and a lifetime of joy!

 

 

We’re Too Hard On Ourselves.

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I am not even sure we notice anymore. The slight jabs, the hurtful words, the manipulation, the bullying. If it were someone else doing it to us we would notice. We would see red flags and call for help, but when it comes to how we treat ourselves, we don’t give it a second thought.

We’re too hard on ourselves.

When we do something “right” it’s not enough, and when we do something “wrong” it’s world war 3 inside our own head.

Many of us wouldn’t dare to treat someone else the way we treat ourselves, especially a child.

A therapist at my boarding school used to tell me to stop myself when I knew I was beating myself up and imagine saying those things to little me. The me with crazy blonde hair, pink cheeks, a grin from ear to ear. I can’t yell at her, she’s too adorable. But the problem is that usually I’m not even aware that I’m being unkind to myself, it’s second nature. And so before I even have time to imagine cute little me, I’ve already done too much damage.

Kindness to self is so important.

If we cannot love and respect and give grace to ourselves we will not be able to fully give that to anyone else. That is truth beyond a shadow of a doubt.

We often miss that detail. We get that loving God is important, and we get that loving others is important, but loving ourselves gets thrown to the wayside. And I don’t mean loving ourselves in the self-absorbed sense, we’re pretty good at that. I mean truly loving ourselves, respecting our fears, listening to our needs, and giving ourselves a break.

Can you give yourself a break today?

When the dishes don’t get done can you say to yourself, “That’s okay, I’ll get them tomorrow.” Or when you yell at your husband for no good reason can you apologize to him and then say to yourself, “It’s okay. you’re human. You’re doing your best here”.

Because isn’t that the real truth?

We’re all just doing our best.

That’s been my new self talk: “Lizz, you’re doing the best you can.”

I’ve even started speaking it over other people. Some people I know and some I do not. When I find myself judging someone in the grocery store, I tell myself that they’re doing the best that they can too. It changes the way that I see a total stranger, like we’re allies in this messy world.

We’re all doing the best that we can in any given moment. Even in our worst moments, we’re just trying to survive, to get by, to stay sane.

If you remember nothing else I’ve written here today, remember this: Be kind to yourself. Be gentle with your heart. Give yourself grace in every moment, in every decision. When you make what feels like a mistake, honor the part of yourself that felt like that was the right thing to do. There are a million things in this world that will beat us up, so don’t do that from that inside.

We’re doing the best we can, and that is enough.

 

It’s Okay To Be Afraid.

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I took Max to the vet yesterday. Poor guy was TERRIFIED. His whole body was literally shaking the entire time.

For those of you who don’t know Max, he’s the Thor of dogs; tough, muscular, incredibly handsome. He has it all. Usually he is the one protecting me. Yet there we were, sitting in the vet’s office and he is climbing up onto the chair and trying to get into my lap.

It was obvious that he was afraid. And so I kept talking to him in this obnoxious baby voice that he loves so much and I kept telling him “it’s okay buddy. you’re okay buddy”. But then I stopped and thought about it for a second. Every 6 months, we bring Max to this place and they give him a million shots, take a poop sample or two, and poke him all over. No wonder he is shaking like a leaf. He knows what’s going on. So then I took a different route with my obnoxious baby voice and said, “okay Max, this totally sucks, but it’s only for a little and then we’ll go home and we can snuggle on the couch, ok”

Not that I believe that my dog understands what I am saying at all. But it made a difference for me. Because I realized that I don’t much care for the way that I approach fear in general. My initial reaction is to tell myself or others that it’s going to be okay, but the reality is that usually we are afraid for a reason.

And it’s okay to be afraid.

Being the self proclaimed queen of anxiety, I basically have a PH.D in irrational fears. Put me in a crate with thousands of tiny spiders and I’ll be fine, but bring me to any public place and I’ll likely have a panic attack in the first five minutes we’re there.

But regardless of whether someone tells us our fears are rational or irrational, there is still a reason for them, and we owe it to ourselves to respect our fear.

Yes, sometimes fear gets out of control and we need therapy, or a hot bath, or some good strong meds (or a combination of all three). But all the while it is important to respect our fear, to listen to what it is trying to tell us, to thank it for warning us of something no matter how small that something may seem.

So whatever it is that you’re afraid of today, be kind to yourself. Because at the end of the day, life can be really scary sometimes, and other people can be scary, and our own minds can be scary. Acknowledge that. Give yourself a break. Rest in the truth that we don’t walk through fear alone, and give yourself a great big emotional hug. You’d be surprised how much listening to your fear and respecting its purpose changes the way you see yourself and the world around you.

Honoring The Weariness.

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For all of us feeling weary today.

So many things on the calendar. So many burdens on our hearts.

Our culture tells us to get over it. Drink some coffee or a red bull. Fight the weariness. Weariness is weakness, don’t let it win.

My fellow wanderers; That is NOT TRUTH.

We are free to rest.

We are free to say “no” to another potluck.

We are free to ignore emails for the weekend.

We are free to and ask ourselves what we really need.

Honor the weariness.

And if there are commitments that we feel we cannot break, or meetings we cannot miss, we will still honor the weariness.

We will drink a lot of coffee if we need to, and chew tons of gum to keep us awake, but we will honor the weariness and the reason it is there.

Because weariness is just a part of ourselves saying “I cannot anymore, I am running on empty”.

So we will gently encourage ourselves through the weariness until we can rest away from it all, even for a moment.

 

“Come to me all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest” {Matthew 11:28}

Thankfulness Is More Than Just A Season.

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Thanksgiving is tomorrow, and I am brimming with thankfulness.

As I write, brownies are baking in the oven, filling the entire house with the smell of dutch chocolate. The house is clean, and the laundry put away. Eric will be home from work soon, and we will spend the evening watching a movie snuggled in front of the fireplace. Tomorrow we will spend Thanksgiving with our family, stuffed to the brim with good food.

I have much to be thankful for.

Many of you can relate. Though you may know hardship, there is much to to be thankful for.

There is great importance in acknowledging our many blessings. It humbles us, and gives glory to the one from whom all blessings flow.

But I also want to know thankfulness in the less obvious sense. Thankfulness when all seems to be falling apart, thankfulness in the messiness of life, thankfulness when I am not getting my way.

That’s a different kind of thankfulness, one that must be practiced. Because thankfulness when we are surrounded by so many wonderful things, is, let’s be honest, kind of easy. But thankfulness in the midst of not-so-wonderful, stretches us.

I don’t just want to be thankful when it makes sense to be thankful; like when I am surrounded by people I love and stuffed full of turkey. I want to be thankful when it doesn’t make sense to be thankful. Like when anxiety is gripping my very soul and I just want to curl up in bed, I want to be thankful for a bed to curl up in and a God who hears my cries. And when our January heating bill comes and it’s almost as much as our mortgage, I want to be thankful for a home to heat.

I want to practice thankfulness in every moment. Not just tomorrow, or until after the Holidays are over, but in every single moment.

Because thankfulness is more than just one day where we acknowledge all that we have before going out and buying a bunch of stuff on sale. Thankfulness is a mindset, a choice, a lifestyle.

So much to be thankful for, both when it’s obvious, and when it is not.

 

 

 

 

 

 

For Those Aching This Holiday Season.

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Thanksgiving is upon us.

We are rushing to the store, baking pies, stuffing turkeys, vacuuming the house, cleaning windows.

Everyone is busy, alive with the hustle and bustle of the season, the cheer of the holidays.

But every year, right before the holidays begin, before the distractions ensue, I am reminded of the pain of this world.

This holiday season there will be empty seats at tables all over the world. People we miss dearly, people we want back.

This holiday season some will spend in hospital beds or beside them, in chemo treatment, rehab, secluded with debilitating depression.

The holidays carry much joy, but are also a reminder of the deepest pain.

Let us be gentle with how we celebrate. Because, for so many, this holiday season cannot end soon enough. Every decoration, every meal, every song, a reminder of what is missing, of what was lost.

If you are aching this holiday season, can I say that my heart reaches out to you. I am praying for God’s strength and peace. For He also knew suffering in this season, and he walks with us. He takes our hands and he says, “I know this is hard. I know you cannot bear it. But am with you and you will make it through.”

“The Lord Bless you and keep you; The Lord make his face shine on you and be gracious to you; the Lord turn his face toward you and give you peace.” -Numbers 6:24-26