On Beeswax

What other people think of me is none of my business. This holds true for my writing, my running and just plain old me. Some people simply aren’t going to like you. My mom told me that awhile back and it kind of hurt my feelings, but was also a little bit of a relief. I shouldn’t have to waste my valuable, limited time on people who aren’t interested.

I think my biggest fear is that I’m not the real deal, whatever that is. My fear is that I’m just a mediocre human being and doing. My writing is crappy because I don’t practice enough. I haven’t picked up my guitar in over a year, and while I run a decent pace, I’m nowhere near Boston Qualifying speed. I’m a little funny, but not stand-up comedienne funny. I keep a moderately clean home, but don’t look too closely. I’m a decent friend, but I rarely go above and beyond outside of birthdays. And while I did step up to be a room mom this year, I’m pretty sure I’m just a space filler facilitating a few things that need to be done.

I look normal (save for the vitiligo patches). I have no special skills, except that I like hearing people’s stories. But the one thing that does make me special is that I have no way of making sense of this world without Jesus. Not religion or church, but this man who flipped sense and religion on its side. I need this upside-down way of looking at the world because nothing is ever enough, which is hugely relieving to realize Jesus is. And so I hold on to my faith.

If you want to live a miserable life, compare yourself to someone else. God has been so faithful in removing my comparison and delivering to me a contentment I could never give myself. It’s almost astonishing to realize that I am not longing for things the way I have over the last few years. Want. Want. Want. I actually want what I have! Maybe for the first time in life. It also feels like I have plenty to lose, which scares the crap out of me, but being content with what I have is almost a life’s work. And it’s been given to me, like being gifted a good singing voice.

Maybe it’s the neurological stuff that’s been going on with Sabra this year. We are spending a lot of money to help her right now and it’s clear that money won’t fix this. I just want my daughter to have a healthy functional life and somehow in the last few months my priorities have been rearranged. My wants look different than they did in April. My heart does too. And I love that. The Lord has rearranged my priorities as we’ve walked through tics and OCD with our baby girl. There is no thing or thrift store bargain find or 7-minute-mile that will fill my empty places. God must come first in my heart and in my home. Simply put, nothing else will do. And in the end, what other people think of me and us and just none of my beeswax!

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