Read, Write, Love, Repeat

My dear friend was working hard to set up a new blog a few months back and she just downloaded her WordPress Theme.  She texted me the link so I could take a look to make sure it was ok. And then texted me a picture of what stared back at her from her monitor. She was seeing a black screen that bore zero resemblance to the lovely theme she had just paid for and downloaded.  All the behind the scenes ugly was on full display, all the guts and inner workings of a blog that the reader never sees. And she couldn’t get past it.

Conversely, All I could see was the beautiful polished looking theme for her shiny new blog on my monitor, begging for people to explore and follow her in all her home-school mom glory (check out darcystruckmeier.com). None of the mess behind the scenes.

She called on me because she needed new eyes to look at what she had been doing, what she was presenting to the rest of the world. She asked for new perspective rather than trusting what she was seeing from her end. And I was happy to give that.

Said friend and I live 8 hours apart but we have maintained our close friendship (forged in ministering together in California) through two family moves, hers to Missouri, mine to Texas.  We talk several times a week through an app called Marco Polo where we leave video messages.

But we can only see ourselves when recording the message.

I love this because we get to connect so often, but I have noticed a curious phenomenon. Every time I look at the phone to record and see myself staring back at me, I am compelled to make some critical self-deprecating comment about my appearance. And have noticed my friend does the same about herself.

When I watch her video message I see my beautiful friend, a face I love, make up or not, and don’t at all see the mess she sees in herself.

I referred to myself the other day as a hag without my makeup on. She said the next day I was beautiful with or without my makeup. Then proceeded to describe herself as a hot mess.  Which she is not.

We need different eyes. New eyes. A new perspective when we see ourselves.

We all see the mess behind the mask that is us.

We see others at face value.

We see their highlight reel on social media.

We see our friends and strangers as pretty, talented, confident, spiritual, they have it all together, are awesome wives and moms, godly. Better.

And we assume no one else has the inner monologues we face every day. Those telling us we are blowing it at every front, that we should be more like this friend or that friend, not as we are. That tireless inner critic, so quick to point out the ways we are simply not handling life. So why even try.

When we get stuck there we assume that we are alone. No one else feels this way. That woman who’s so successful must never struggle. That beautiful super fit friend of mine must never look in the mirror and wish she saw something else. That amazing mom whose kids are all high achievers must never worry about their futures. And we stay stuck there.

Even worse, we assume and project judgment FROM them that they simply don’t think. We assume they see our weaknesses and condemn us, thinking we should be like them. That we are bad at “xyz.”

But these are lies. Lies our heart whispers in our insecurity, lies the enemy growls in our weak moments. Believing these lies keeps us isolated, makes us fearful of reaching out, starving us of something crucial. Stealing from us the sisterhood of all these other women, those who all struggle, those who can speak to us these crucial words: “I feel like that, too.”

The walls built by these lies, this isolation, keeps us seeing the worst in ourselves. Nothing of beauty, nothing of value, just the ick that goes on behind the scenes and how hard we are trying to make things work, to love other people, and to make it all ok.

But people outside of your brain, my friend, see the beauty.  They don’t see the bad.  They’re not caught up in the behind the scenes that you see.

Give yourself some grace today.  Try to see yourself through the eyes of one who loves you.  Allow a sister to show you what she sees in you. Let her whisper, “I feel that way, too.” Give yourself the gift of vulnerability, the gift of opening yourself, not only a gift to you, but to the women you can bless. They, and you, need this. New perspective. New eyes.

More importantly, allow yourself this: God sees you through the lens of the most loving of fathers, and through the blood of His son that has clothed you in robes of righteousness.  None of the ick, none of the bad things we’ve done.  Only the beloved of His heart, in the process of beautifully becoming who He know you can be.

See yourself through His eyes, through His perspective.