I just deleted this entire post. Let's try this again.
I had started to write about marriage, selfless love, blah blah blah. I've written intimately about my marriage before and will do so again in the future. There's so much to say, to share. But what's really on my heart this morning, as I sip my coffee and look out at the Seattle gray contrasting against the brilliant vermillion Dahlias nestled in a bouquet beside me... is failure.
It seems like no matter what I do, who I become, or how often I motivate myself, it's never good enough. I never meet my own set of criteria, the likes of which I keep thrusting higher and higher, always just out of reach. As an example: I recently joined a gym, then started running, and then purchased a bike and have been riding it all over the city... and yet I still constantly feel out of shape and not athletic enough (although, I suppose when you're married to a professional athlete you never quite feel athletic enough). Sure, there's an element of motivation in there somewhere that's totally healthy, but the heart behind it is constantly striving, comparing, and feeling like I haven't measured up. I hate admitting this (probably because I'm worried it will change your view of me), but my identity is my idol. Better put,
I am my own idol.
Between this article on the Huffington Post entitled "23 Things Every Woman Should Stop Doing" (read it, ladies) and yesterday's message from Pastor Mark Driscoll on idolatry, I am reminded, yet again, how my worth is not found in my accomplishments -- past, present, future, and failed -- nor my looks, nor my talent, nor my social media presence, nor what people are saying about me and my marriage, nor how many wedding blogs publish our wedding. Why is this still so hard for me to learn?
This summer has brought a lot of change in my life. And with change comes a reevaluation of self; a constant mental rewrite of my life's résumé. Nick says I'm obsessed with what others think of me. That's a very hard pill to swallow. Writing it out for you to read is even harder.
I am exposing my idol to hold myself accountable. Living with Jesus means living in freedom, a concept I'm not sure I've ever fully understood.
As humans, we will encounter many struggles. It's guaranteed. We will always be groaning in our flesh; we were not made for this world. I don't know about you, but I feel that truth weigh deeper in my bones every day. However, in a way, accepting it offers complete freedom. Freedom to run in Christ and stop worrying, stop comparing, and start serving.
Forgive the weightiness of this blog post Internet, but frankly, I needed to write it. It's a reminder, you see. A reminder that it's all about Jesus.