measure for measure.
1:21 PMI’ve been having a lot of conversations recently about perceptions, trust, vulnerability, etc. Working in a church one would think you would be surrounded by people you can open your heart up to and know that those fragile parts of yourself can be preserved. Sadly, this is not always the case. On the other hand, there are those who you consciously choose not to trust because you see how perfect they seem to be on the outside. How in the world could they ever understand? The truth is, most of us live under some type of mask. We have no idea how we will be received if we ever choose to remove it. I’m currently in a short Beth Moore Bible Study called “Measureless Love.” The first week Beth talked about how, we, women in particular, are constantly trying to measure up to something. We try to measure up to someone else or by someone else’s standards. It’s exhausting. I find myself just as guilty of it. I look at many of the women in this church who come in each week with their husband and children and think, “Man, why can’t I have that?” or I see a girl a few rows in front of me with the perfect, hair, clothes, figure, etc, and think, “Why can’t I look like her?” My mom’s generation typically believes that you can’t go outside of the house without full make-up and fixed hair. I did not inherit this…or maybe I rebel against it. My freshman year of college the trend was to wear pajama pants to class. Strange? Maybe. I typically showed up to class with no make-up on, my hair on top of my head and wearing a t-shirt, pajama pants, and tennis shoes. My mom was certain I was depressed. It was actually the opposite. It was one of the happiest times of my life because I was surrounded by people who loved me for me, not what I looked like. I found it quite liberating. Today I don’t show up to work in my pajamas, although I certainly would like to some days. I don’t always wear make-up and often you’ll see me with my hair in a ponytail. Other days you’ll see me wearing nicer clothes, full make-up, and fixed hair. Regardless, I’m still the same person and it’s my hope that people accept me as I am. And those days when I might look a little nicer, there’s probably a whole lot of chaos going on inside me that I’d prefer to mask.
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