My Dear Son,
This week you turned 8. Leading
up to your birthday I watched your anticipation build. The official countdown
sheet you created and hung on our fridge was diligently checked off each day
for all of September. When they asked, you strategically split up your gift
wish list between the Uncles. Saving the big items for Uncle Nate,
"because he is rich." Oh, how I love watching your excitement grow.
But that excitement, it also frightens me.
It frightens me because it
makes me remember.
It makes me remember my own
pain.
It makes me want to protect you.
Protect you from the pain I so
vividly remember.
Your momma, well, I used to be
a lot like you. I too had a sensitive heart just bursting with big excitement.
Perhaps it was because my sensitive heart was always aware on some level of so
much pain and hurt both in and around me, so I used giddy anticipation as a
line of defense, as a relief from some of the heaviness of this world? Or maybe
I simply loved birthdays, vacations, holidays just a little (okay, a lot) more
passionately than other people… Oh how the growing excitement of these events
would cause me to lose sleep for days! I would toss and turn in bed for the
week before playing over in my mind how amazing things would be when the day
finally arrived.
Of course, due to the nature of
time my "big day" would eventually come. The day I had been waiting
for!!! ...and I wish I could tell you it was always amazing. I wish I could say
each birthday, Christmas, Easter, or whatever thing it was I was so excited for
blew my mind. But I can't tell you this. Because sometimes (most of the time),
it wouldn't be anything like I had imagined. To be honest, it
was almost worse when it was as good
as I planned, because then I had to feel the letdown which inevitably came from
knowing the excitement was over and gone. There is a whole lot of disappointment
to feel once I realized I must wait a whole year for another birthday to come.
I’m preaching to the choir here because you already know this,
don't you? In your short 8 years you have already become well acquainted with
the sting of disappointment. I have seen a very intimately familiar look on
your face when you have had to come face to face with reality. It is the face
that says, “What is wrong with me? Why does this hurt?” It is a sad, angry and
confused face. I know what that face looks like on you and it hurts me that my
hurts have so acutely been passed down to you.
Your momma, remember, used to
be a lot like you. I too had a creative heart just bursting with big ideas of
how things could, should and would go. In my head I would create fantastic
scenarios where I was so happy and so excited because everything went as
planned. Everyone would remember my birthday. I would feel important all day.
Mom would make my favorite dinner. Nate would be nice to me and not steal my concert
tee shirt. Dad would get me my perfect present. My friends would treat me
special. There would be balloons and fun and laughter and whatever else I
dreamed up in my head that this birthday or celebration needed to be JUST
RIGHT. The reason I couldn't sleep at night was because my imagination was too
busy painting pictures and creating movies in my mind of how GREAT it was going
to be.
When in truth, nothing, no
person, no scenario, no present, no cake could have fulfilled the expectations
I had set. There are very few Christmases or birthdays of my youth where the
memories aren't tainted with some feelings of disappointment. I remember crying
many a holidays over the intangible, yet very real feelings of being let down.
This! My son, this feeling of disappointment is what I want to protect you
from!
Or is it?
Because I now know how to make
the feelings of disappointment go away. This I can teach you! People call it
shame. Here is what you tell yourself, "I need to stop being so excited. I need to be rational, unfeeling and a
little less fantastical in my thoughts. I need to toughen up- stop being so
sensitive! Stop expecting so much from this life! And for all the love, just BE
GRATEFUL. Be grateful for what I have, for what I've got, for how things turned
out. Stop dreaming and be realistic."
The part of me that is scared
and wants to protect you from my old hurts has already introduced you to Shame.
I have said these things to you, both out loud and in my head. I have tried to
teach you how to blame yourself for your pain. Just like your ol' mom did to
herself. Shame will work. You can kill your disappointment, your
hurt, and your feelings of being let down. But something precious will die in
the process. Good things along with the bad wilt in the throes of shame.
I solved my struggle with
disappointment through shame. I took the creative and sensitive parts of my
heart and named them “bad”. The parts of me that built up so much excitement, I
blamed them for my disappointment. I believed myself ungrateful. I told myself,
if only I were MORE grateful and LESS sensitive- I wouldn't feel sad. If only I
had LESS excitement and MORE rational thought- I wouldn't be crying at
Christmas.
Back then I didn't know about
balance. Back then I didn't realize how maybe my excitement and longing for all
things perfect was less about being ungrateful and more about being created for
a different world. A world without sin, a world that wasn’t fallen. I didn't
know my sensitive heart was a barometer for just how far humanity had drifted
in sin from the life we were created for. I didn't know my imagination
was a saving grace, a way to feel alive and help others feel connected. I
didn't know creativity was a gift.
I believed sensitivity and creativity and excitement were my
crosses to carry. And these crosses felt much too heavy a burden to carry. So I
just laid them down completely. It took me some time, but over the years,
I shut those parts down. I learned to harden my heart and stopped feeding my
imagination. In the process I learned some really great techniques for sleeping
at night: just don't let yourself think about it. Don't dream, don't plan,
don't hope and you will sleep like a rock.
Thing I know for fact after
years of practice:
If you don't dream
you will never feel the sting of disappointment.
But thing I also know for fact
after looking back:
If you never
dream of something, different, better, more, new, exciting...
then you will never feel fully
alive.
Sometimes in writing, the words
you type lead you to your own hidden answers. I call this the Spirit guiding,
but whatever you call it, this is one of those times. Here is the truth as I
just now see it Little man, I am not afraid of the pain you will experience
from being let down and disappointed. I am afraid that the hard will make you
want to stop. Stop dreaming, hoping, planning, anticipating and imagining. I am
afraid you will mistake your gifts for curses and walk away from them in shame.
We are almost done with a
Wrinkle in Time. Remember the Mrs W's gift to Meg? The gift was that her
biggest struggles would be her strengths in a time of need. What Meg once saw
as her "stubbornness" became her determination, resilience and a
refusal to give up. She just needed to learn when and how to apply her
"stubbornness" in the most effective way. This wasn't her cross to
carry, it was just her path towards adventure and fully living. Her
"stubbornness" was her gift to her people and to the universe.
So it is with us. Your strength
my boy is found in your sensitivity. Your imagination and creative thinking,
while troublesome at times, is your gift. God's gift to you and to your people
and to the world. Gifts shine Light, so it is no wonder learning how to
use them often feels like a struggle. The bigger the gift, the bigger the
struggle in learning how to use it-
because Darkness does not like light and it does not like gifts.
Here is the thing, you are
sensitive, creative and determined. Every single sensitive and creative soul on
this planet has been gifted a determined spirit. They go hand in hand. The
problem is, we hardly see it because we are too busy shaming ourselves for the
pain. We are too busy figuring out how to make it stop instead of finding ways
to listen to the pain, learn from the disappointment and observe the hurt for
clues. But if you get real quiet and listen, you will hear Truth say- yes it
hurts, but hurting is part of living. Numbness is simply death.
And I want you to live. Not
just the breathing in and out thing, which goes without saying. But what I want
is for you to feel fully alive. To be fully YOU. I want you to wear your
sensitivity, creativity and determination with pride in who God made you to be.
Yes, it will be a process but together we can learn how different and powerful
the word "could" can be instead of "should." We can learn
how to dream and while we are at it spend some time imagining how we can better
respond to disappointment when things don't work out at planned. We can practice
getting still together and listening. We can talk, share and collaborate on the
hurts- they don't need to control us, we just need to pay attention to them so
we can beyond them. We can practice getting back up again. Over and over,
because we know we can. This is living.
Most importantly, we can remind ourselves time and time again that
as long as our hope is in Jesus we will NEVER be put to shame. Because God has
poured out His love on us and this love will never ever disappoint. When the
dreams of this world shatter, when our imagination fails us- let us remember
His is a love no mind can comprehend. It is that big and beautiful. This truth
is fully living.
My gift to you this 8th year of
your life is this: I promise to always try and see all your struggles as
strengths. To not shame you for being you, but rather love and encourage the
gifts you have been given. To honor who
God made you to be- not who I think I would have an easier time with you
being.
Be alive this year. Dream big
dreams. Hope big hopes. Create amazing things. Feel the feelings and share
them- let them motivate you to help make things more loving and kind for
everyone. You aren't alone in this- I am right alongside you determinedly
holding your hand.
I love you to Camazots and
back.
Happy birthday,
Momma
xoxo
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