I was flipping through my journal—the place where I can unload on God, reflect on what's going on in my life, or jot down a new book idea. And I came across this prayer I wrote a few months ago when I needed to make some decisions about a big project and in the process did some pondering about myself:
"I'm scared. I'm scared of the unknown and of being in trouble with "them." I don't want to be in pleaser mode and I also don't want to run over people. So teach me how to be myself and to be gracious.
I don't want to be rough on the outside so if I brush up against someone it's abrasive. I also don't want to be so weak that I'm malleable and porous—letting things ooze out or saturate in. I want to be immovable and able to withstand life's tornados. Jesus, I need you."
I've noticed something about myself. There's this "them" out there that I fear letting down. Fear that I'm going to be judged harshly and found lacking. Sometimes those "thems" are actual people, but much of the time they are nameless and faceless, hovering on the periphery, a product of my performance driven imagination.
They fuel the lie that there is something more I should be doing, something I should be trying harder at: parenting, time with God, writing . . . those things that are so important to me, but have difficulty resting in.
Though it is getting easier.
I'm starting to get that perfection is not the goal. That God did not design me to go it alone or aim for the stars and get there in my own rocket ship.
When I become intentional about resting in Him, all those "thems" disappear. I'm living and breathing for an audience of One. The desire for excellence doesn't disappear—His standards are high. The difference is He does the equipping.
Too often I hear the call and then scramble and stress trying to do it all on my own, and then cringe at the thought of being judged for my efforts.
It's not supposed to be that way.
When He sets us on a path, He'll provide all we need and the companionship we crave.
I want to walk that path with him second by second.