Claiming the lies my life


When I was a young girl, I was brave. When I went to college, I was brave. When I got married and moved 3000 miles, I was brave. Every day for the past two years I have told myself I was brave.

You know what?

I wasn’t being brave.

I was claiming bravery, but I wasn’t living it, because along with the bravery I was claiming a whole heap of lies too. And I’m not talking about the recognizable lies. The ones that tell me I’m not enough, that I’m not pretty. That I’ll never be slim enough, never be a good enough mom. That I don’t provide well enough for my family. That my friends like other people more than they like me.

I’m talking about the lies that are so small you don’t notice them. The ones that turn your stomach and you aren’t sure why. The lies that stop you from making a decision, through sheer indecisiveness. I am a slave not to that little voice in my head, that I can beat up pretty good, no, I am a slave to that sinking feeling in my stomach.

So tonight when I had the chance to get out of the house and write for a few hours, I was excited, oh so excited. A few words from a friend and I no longer believed that Elyse Patrick had already written all the books I wanted to write. I valued my words.

But then,

oh and there’s always a but then,

but then, Husby suggested the coffee place in the next town over and my stomach turned over, and my heart skipped a beat, and my creativity began to shut down. Here comes that dark hole again. And here’s the thing, I prayed for this place. There’s one coffee shop within ten minutes of my house, and it closes at 7, not ideal for a mama bear looking for a place to write. So I prayed, for years I prayed for a coffee shop, tried to convince a friend to open one, tried sitting at the Dunkin Donuts, and prayed, and prayed for this very place now suggested to me. But I hadn’t been yet. I didn’t know what it looked like inside. Where I would sit. What I would order. If the servers were nice. So I got in the car to drive fifteen minutes extra to the known place, to waste thirty minutes of writing time (there and back).

Then I asked myself, when did I get so scared. Was it when I got married, when I had someone legally obligated to look out for me? Was it when I had kids, when I had little ones in a scary world to think about? Or was it when I settled into my job of 11 years, realized I would be there till retirement and sunk my feet in?

Really, it’s all of the above and none of the above. Anxiety and fear have gripped me since I was a child, but at different stages does it control me instead of vice versa. I think of Jeremiah 29:11. Oh how many times have I seen this verse, had this verse quoted to me, quoted this verse to others, and until it imprints on your life in some way it’s just words. Because the Lords plans are not for me to live in fear, but for me to prosper in hope. I don’t believe this verse guarantees you an easy life, but it guarantees us that he is on our side, and that he knows.

Photo on 5-25-16 at 6.50 PMSo tonight I will sit here in the new AND AWESOME coffee shop and I will claim my life instead of the lies.

I want to read and write. Hey guess what, I’m doing that right now.

I want to write a book. Yup working on that one RIGHT NOW.

I want my kids, my husband, my home. Pretty sure God delivered big time on those counts.

Everything I dream about. Every megabucks lottery wish list. Every desperate prayer at 3am. It’s already here, being answered. So I’m claiming my life, not the lies.



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