Not Perfect By Any Means

As I mentioned in yesterday’s post, I am reading unChristian by David Kinnaman and Gabe Lyons. One of the characteristics that nonChristians say that Christians have is that they are hypocritical- you know, say one thing and do another.

“We cannot hope to shed our hypocritical label if our lifestyles offer no proof of the ‘fruit’ of Christlikeness.”

This quote really spoke to me because I honestly don’t always think my behavior represents God. As much as I try to be Christlike, I am not. Far from it. I would truly like to apologize to anyone who has seen me during my unChristlike moments.

I think that Christianity is summed up nicely in another quote from the book.

“We are fallen people who desperately need God in our lives- everyday.”

Can I be real?

I am not perfect by any means.

I have been trying to get rid of the anger I have towards some of my family members for the years of neglect and abuse I endured as a child, but I have not been able to. I harbor bitterness inside. I think that this anger spills into some other parts of my life, including relationships with others. I am not always the kindest person. One of my ongoing prayers is to gain a spirit of forgiveness so that I can truly forgive them.

One of my greatest sins is pride. It is strange because it’s also paired with the feeling that I’m not good enough to be God’s child. I think I try so hard to be all and do all that sometimes I forget the real meaning of life. As a child, I was always told I was not good enough, that I am less than, so I’ve spent most of my life trying to prove otherwise.

I’ve tried to hide behind my successes. When I came to Florida to start the PhD program, I was quite possibly the most prideful person on campus. I thought I was “all that” because I got a ton of awards in college and I got a full ride to the PhD program. But I was far from being "all that." And it pains me to this day as I think about the many people I hurt by being prideful. 

Another ongoing prayer is that I really take it in that I am God’s child and no matter how many good things I do, I don’t have to be the best at everything. I don’t have to be good at things or do good things for God to love me. I just have to be me.

Sometimes I get angry at people I shouldn’t get angry at. Sometimes my patience flies out the window. Sometimes I don’t show strangers the love that I should show them- the love that can be found in Christ. Sometimes I judge people too quickly. Sometimes I try too hard to be someone that I’m not instead of becoming who God wants me to be.

My biggest hope while reading this book and sharing what I am learning from this book is that I can be real with others about what it means to be a true Christian, one with multiple mental illnesses. At times, it’s hard but being a Christian can lead to a very fulfilling life.

Feelings Hidden Within

Something has been on my mind lately. I'm going to the dentist soon.

I see how others look at my teeth. Anybody who knows me knows that my teeth are not in good shape.

I know people make fun of my teeth. I see their stares. One memory hurts the most. 

I was walking to my dorm a few years ago on Halloween and a guy came up to me with his friends and he said "Oh, are your messed up teeth fake?... Oh, wait a minute, those are your real teeth!" He laughed and walked away, with his crew laughing with him. Every time I think back to that encounter, it hurts deep within. I do not think he knew how his words hurt me deeply.

Little does he know that I survived years of severe abuse by my father, in which he treated me like an animal. I can't even look at dogs without being reminded that I was treated less than human for so many years. The memories come back to me each and every day. I avoid dogs as much as I can. Not because I'm scared of them. But when I see them, I am reminded of the abuse. I am reminded of my feelings hidden deep within, the feelings of unworthiness and shame. The feelings that I am less than human.

Little does he know that I was neglected for years by my mother, the person who was supposed to care for me the most. She wasn't around to make sure I was taking care of myself. During my teenage years, she chose her drug dealer boyfriend over me. She chose drugs and alcohol over me. And it still hurts. How could she care about someone else more than me? How could she care about drugs more than me?

Little does he know that I come from a poor family, and we didn't have enough money to go to the dentist as much as others. Little does he know that no matter how much I wanted to get braces, my family could not afford them.

Little does he know that I spent many years of my life trying to understand why people treated me like I was less than human. If you're treated like you're nothing for long enough, you start believing it. It wears you down. It invades every part of your life. I've taken in a lot of negative thoughts regarding myself due to how I was treated as a child and a teenager. I still have trouble taking care of myself sometimes, because I grew up with people who had a hard time showing love to me. If they didn't care about me, why should I?

I was damaged as a child, and each day, I still am recovering from that abuse. It is not an easy road at all. I wish people would not judge me on first glance, but that they would understand. I wish more people understood how truly damaged I still feel, especially as I relive the memories each day. I wish they wouldn't just write me off the minute they see how I look. Because there is more hidden behind my looks than one first impression can give. There is turmoil and beliefs that I am not worthy of love or to be cared about or to be treated like any other human being. Because that's what I grew up being taught.

Each new day it gets easier. My mother has come a long way and is helping me.

Slowly but surely, God is healing me and the hidden, hurt and damaged child within me. I want that little girl to know that she is loved and will be loved, not judged or made fun of. I want that little child to smile again. To smile without being stared at or mocked. I want her to laugh again.

More than anything I want her to find hope again. I want her to find the light that God shines through the darkness and turmoil within our souls. I want her to see that light and shine.

I want her to know what it means to be loved.