People Like People Sometimes

84533689-C8CC-41CD-988C-5F9875D64822_1_201_a

Recently someone said to me, “People usually like people that like them.” That hit me hard. I’ve always assumed that people wouldn’t like me, regardless of how nice I was, how sweet I came across. I’ve been the first one to make fun of myself, to say what I already assume they’re thinking, to beat them to the critique, to beat them to saying the thing that will wound me.

I’m a people pleasure. Nothing makes me more happy than the people around me being happy. Everything about me craves affirmation and a smile from the people around me. My love language is words of affirmation. All I want to hear is that I’m enough for those I care about, that I doing enough, soothing their needs, and brightening their days. In a way, this can be a strength. People tell me about my caring heart, about how I notice things about people and remember their favorites.

But it’s also one of my biggest weaknesses. The minute I attach myself to someone, I’m loyal until they break me. Until they destroy me, bring tears streaming down my cheeks, and I’ve tried everything to be enough.

Olivia Rodrigo says in her song, “Enough,” these words:

Yeah, you always say I’m never satisfied
But I don’t think that’s true
You say I’m never satisfied
But that’s not me, it’s you
‘Cause all I ever wanted was to be enough
But I don’t think anything could ever be enough
For you

There’s nothing I want more to be than enough for those who I love. I want to be enough for those who just meet me, I want to be liked by the person who just greeted me. But I immediately expect I won’t be enough, that I won’t be liked.

Because my whole childhood was never being enough. My whole childhood was being disliked, being teased, being excluded. I’m used to be the wallflower.

The thing is . . . I was told this by someone in January. And I’ve done a lot of growing since then, especially when it comes to the problem of being enough.

Me on my own would never ever be enough. It doesn’t matter how hard I try, all I do, it would all be in vain. But I’m not left on my own. This year I’ve been learning about my identity, learning about who I am, and what that means.

I am a child of God. Which means Christ died for me, and gave me his enough (he was perfect, so of course he was enough!). He wrapped in in his enough, tying it around me and giving me a smile. And because of his enough, I get a smile from God, too. It doesn’t matter what I do, how much I screw up, I still have Christ’s enough. (And let me tell you, I screw up A LOT every day.)

I’m enough, and not only am I enough, and I have God’s smile, but I have an relationship with Christ and God the Father! It’s wild, that Christ and God would want to have a relationship with me, a tiny human on a small planet called earth. The creator of the universe cares about me. And not only cares about me, he calls me daughter!

My mind is truly blown.

But now I don’t have to worry about being enough. I don’t have to worry about coming across as perfectly nice and sweet so everyone likes me. I am who I am, and not everyone will like me. And if you ask me, that’s perfectly okay.

I know who I am.

Who are you?

~~Amie~~

The Road Isn’t Easy

D2C69B63-DAE8-4D1E-9608-120AC8E7DCB5

(read last weeks post here.) 

The road isn’t easy, and my energy isn’t endless.

Two sad facts that pain me everyday. How do I remain on the path when my mind is so fogged, I can’t remember my own breakfast? How can I remain on the path when every time I sit down, I start drifting to sleep? How can I remain on the road, when all I feel is a heavy sense of defeat?

Does God still take worship from a tired mind? Does He still honor its plaintive cries?

Rocks crumble along the roadside, my step is slow, and my mind is weary. Somedays I can run along the path, keeping my thoughts straight, my mind on things above. But then it seems the fog rolls in, the numbness follows, and it takes all my will to keep from letting go and becoming hollow.

This week has been kinda tough on my mind. It’s reminded me that I’m not perfect, that the world is full of sin and sickness, and that I need to have patience with myself as well as with others. If I could have my way, I would be a super hero who could do everything all at once. But I’m just a girl, with a list of problems. Thank God He’s given me a list of grace to cover each of those problems. It’s just that I hate accepting grace and admitting I’m not perfect.

God calls us to do our best. (Colossians 3:23-24) Not to be perfect. Perfection is unachievable by the fallen human race. (Genesis 3:1-8, Romans 3:23-26) My best isn’t always what I want to do, but that’s where I can practice giving grace.

For me, it’s often times easier to give grace to others than to myself. My mind makes excuses for those around me, pulling at my sympathy and besides, how can I judge and know if they’re doing their best or not? But when it comes to myself, I’m truly my worse critic. In my mind, I can always do better, always be better, and if I fall from my schedule, or from my exercise routine, or if it takes me longer to draft a blog post than I think is acceptable, I’ll beat myself down with a mental metal rod.

I would feel horrible if any other human did this to themselves. But I believe I deserve it. I deserve to be beaten up by myself and others.

Which isn’t true.

And that’s why, this week, I spent a lot of time doing what I would consider “nothing.” I would wake at six, and instead of getting up like usually and working right away, I just let myself lie there and admire the sky. I let myself rest, because for once, I knew that I needed rest.

It isn’t shameful to be unable to do as much as someone else. The sooner you acknowledge you aren’t a superhero, the sooner you’ll be free to be the best hero you can be.

So take a breath.

It’s okay if you haven’t had a clear mind to pray, or if you needed to take a nap today. Keep heart, and remember. Someday we’ll be in a place where there’s no more tears, sickness, or brain fog. ❤

~~Amie~~