Why I'm scared to be Brave

There is something really intimidating to me about a woman who is confident

The way she holds eye contact with others. 

The way she knows how to carry a conversation.

The way she dresses and looks comfortable in her clothes. 

The way she is so sure of who she really is...

Exactly opposite of everything I feel on a daily basis. 

I shrink away from conversation in a big group. I fidget when asked a direct question. I look at my hands, the table, the napkin I am folding, unfolding, folding again. I stand quietly and awkwardly in a group, unsure how to start, carry, input into, or end a conversation. 

I pull at my shirt when I am walking by someone, scared they will see all that baby weight I am desperately trying to hide. 

I hold back my personality, so sure everyone is going to reject who I really am. 

Sometimes, I am really good at pretending I am brave. Confident. Sure of myself. But... when the day is done...when all my play dates have been gone to, when the Church service is over, when I'm home from the grocery store, I am a mess. On the inside, of course.

"I shouldn't have said that!" "Why did I wear this? I look so gross!" "That woman looked so good in that outfit..." "I shouldn't go back..." "They are so uncomfortable around me. I am so dumb sometimes!" "He can't possibly think I'm beautiful, or *gag* SEXY, just look at these stretch marks! Look at this fat! Look at my double chin!" 

And on and on and ON the battle rages in my desperate and hurting soul, seeking some form of acceptance, but being so blinded by my insecurities that I don't see it right in front of my face. 

Do you know how hard it is for me to believe in God? Not hard at all. I know He exists like I know the air is there, like I know I love my three sons. Do you know how hard it is for me to believe He adores me? Thinks I am beautiful? Smart? Talented? Worthy? Near impossible. And yet, the other night, as I lay in bed, going over a million reasons why I'm not good enough, why no one could possibly think I'm good enough...I heard these words, spoken softly to this hurting heart...

"Who are you to say you are not good enough? I thought you were worth dying for. I thought you were worth giving life, putting breath inside that body, sparking that mind, tuning that laugh. Who are you to say you are not beautiful? I am God, and you are accepted." 

His words shook me. No one has ever thought I was good enough to die for. I had forgotten...

So today, I will keep my eyes on Christ, who says I am redeemed, worthy, accepted. And He is the final word in my life. Not me, or any insecurity. 


  1. there ya go sweet gurl! it's THAT foundation that then flows through affecting the rest. in addition, you and everyone else is made in His image! think on that and THEN challenge yourself to look for things specific about YOU that represent Him! oh it will be never ending! i ask him to show me and more so i ask that i would see! (in myself and in others)

  2. Ah! I feel like you in many ways! Especially in the beautiful realm. I feel so frumpy and icky and manly looking that I rarely feel confident in my looks. I am usually pretty confident in my personality and my talents, but still. It's not all confidence. Not even close.

    I am not a fan of big groups. At parties, I like to sit off somewhere with one or two people and talk and joke and what have you. But in large groups, I feel so shy and awkward, too.

    I think (hope) you've been giving me a chance to get to know the REAL you. And I think you're wonderful. I don't care if you have baby weight. You had a baby. And even if you didn't and were just generally heavier than a toothpick, I wouldn't care. I don't judge that way. And if your hair is a mess, GREAT. Doesn't matter. And if you're uncomfortable, well, we'll just work past that slowly.

    I like you for who you are. And I love you, too.

  3. Amen and Amen! We are fearfully and wonderfully made.

    or as I always felt, even though I am not worthy of His love.....I am NOT worthless. most especially to Him.
    Realizing that, accepting that, was the day I held my head a little higher and looked someone in the eye. Blessings to you!


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