Welcome to the 2nd edition of Fill in the Blank.
I’ve had the pleasure of being a small part of a big thing God’s doing with a new book called Never Unfriended (Lisa-Jo Baker, B & H Publishing Group). So much goodness sealed with ink on these sweet pages. Do yourself a favor and say yes to this book.
There’s much I’d like to share about Never Unfriended, but today–I’d love to know your thoughts on something mentioned in Chapter 7.
Lisa-Jo writes, “Maybe going first and admitting our un-fine isn’t a weakness; instead, it’s a gift to the women around us who can finally exhale and admit their un-fine too.”
Friend, are you as guilty of this as I am?
How often do we walk through our days, in all our superficial-glory, answering “fine” to anyone who even thinks to ask how we’re doing?
Strange how we guard ourselves so tightly that we unintentionally sacrifice what we most crave.
Here I sit, a woman well into her mid-forties, who only in recent years has made a simple, yet crucial, connection regarding friendship:
In order to be a safe place for others, I need to step across the welcome mat of their hearts and sit in the safe space they’ve created for me as well.
I’m so busy etching a spirit of belonging around others, I can forget it’s not a one-way situation.
I, too, need that sense of acceptance, but — when I break it down to its lowest common denominator — it’s easier to discount my own needs and bypass putting my un-fine on display.
Because who has time for that?
Well, turns out, none of us has time to waste doing anything less.
I wonder — what would happen if we all stopped being fine? Would the world fall apart?
No, I’m betting the world would finally start holding together for the first time in a long time.
We’re so afraid to let others into our mess, we can spend a lifetime trying to maintain the hustle, maintain control, not realizing that the thing we’re trying to hold together–is hollow.
So today, I offer up my “un-fine” on the sacred altar of sisterhood.
I pray you’ll meet me there–right in the middle of our beautiful brokenness.
And we’ll smile—because we’ll know we’re not alone.
Being perpetually tired.
Feeling like I’m failing at the majors while trying to succeed at the minors. And wondering if I even know the difference between the two.
Laundry and dishes that refuse to do themselves.
Dust bunnies on steroids.
The constant fear of being misunderstood.
Wishing to be a fly on the wall of a godly home–to see if I’m doing this mothering thing well or if I’m completely screwing up my children.
Wondering why I can’t seem to balance the writing life with the household/family life. Wishing I could do them both well, and wondering—if by trying to do both, I’m actually doing neither.
Wearing compassion until it’s raggedy, but not knowing how to take it off. How to make it easier on my heart. Sometimes wishing I cared less because it’d be easier, and then feeling guilty for wishing that.
Oh yes, the guilt. Guilt for the drive-thru suppers that happen way too often lately.
Guilt for the 10 pounds middle-age promised me and didn’t lie.
Guilt for the toppling stacks of mail and wishing for the girl of yester-year who could clean the house in a morning and read in the afternoon.
And the pressure. The constant pressure I put on myself to be the mother my kids deserve.
The never knowing if I’m enough for these people I love so much, the constant crying out to God on behalf of my husband and children.
The hope mixed with the fear.
The un-fine me.
But, if there’s one thing Un-fine Me is sure of it’s that—God’s grace is enough for it all.
Friend, He’s not limited by our un-fine-ness.
What about you? How do you fill in the blank?
Un-fine is ?
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