If you want to be unhappy, uncomfortable, and insecure, just spend your life trying to do something that is not right for you. It is like trying to wear shoes that don’t fit.
Joyce Meyer, “Approval Addiction: Overcoming Your Need To Please Everyone”
“Don’t judge a man until you have walked a mile in his shoes” is a wonderful way for us to learn about empathy, but I’m pretty sure we aren’t supposed to take it literally. Neither are we to try and live someone else’s life!
{ I logged far too many “miles” (years!) walking in someone else’s shoes. }
I had this photo taken of me wearing my husband’s size 13 shoes to create a vivid picture of just how impossible it would be for me to wear his shoes for very long and get anywhere myself!
And, although I have not physically worn his shoes, I have, in a sense, lived his life.
I am a caretaker and a helper. But sometimes we can take on that role too fully and for too long and we lose our own God-given identity.
Much of my life I’d found my principal roles expressed mainly in the pages of someone else’s life. I was someone’s mother, someone’s wife, someone’s Sunday school teacher, someone’s employee. Wonderful things. But down deep, at soul level, who was I? Sue Monk Kidd, “When The Heart Waits”
Yes, God wants us to love and help others, but He has created each one of us to do that BEST by our using specific gifts and talents that He equipped us with.
It really didn’t take me long to find out that I’m not an awesome woodworker like my husband, nor can I win trophies in martial arts, as he has.
{ But I still kept those big shoes on. }
And what can happen when we try to live someone else’s life, not just help them, is that we trip and fall and become stunted in our own growth. And we can start feeling “not so good” about ourselves.
There is a quote attributed to Albert Einstein which says,
“Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid.”
Whether Mr. Einstein is the author of this or not (it seems to be an ongoing internet dispute!), isn’t important. It’s what the quote says.
There probably isn’t anything much more tragic in this life than a person who does not live the life they were created for—when they keep trying to fit in and do something they aren’t equipped to do, and/or they continue to make choices to do things just to make other people happy or for their approval.
They will feel empty, confused, purposeless, joyless—and even stupid.
And the greatest tragedy is they (we all!) are most certainly well equipped to do something other than the thing or things that they feel clumsy or stupid doing!
Certainly, there are many circumstances that can prevent a person from becoming fully who God intended them to be—not least of which are those who are born in poverty-stricken homes or countries. ( But even then I’ve read of some rather powerful testimonies concerning this from missionaries. )
But if you are one of those blessed to have the opportunity to develop your gifts and talents and to use them to help others (which is really what we are all put on this earth to do—to love the Lord our God and to love others as we love ourselves)—when we do this, we are men and women of authenticity and we feel it all the way down to the shoes that fit us perfectly.
Everyone who calls on the name of the LORD will be saved. But how can they call on him to save them unless they believe in him? And how can they believe in him if they have never heard about him? And how can they hear about him unless someone tells them? And how will anyone go and tell them without being sent? That is why the Scriptures say, “How beautiful are the feet of messengers who bring good news!” Romans 10:13-1
We are the tools for Him to minister to others. We minister with our whole person—which includes our feet—feet that should be wearing the right shoes.
It is then we can walk out our destinies without tripping.
Oh, this is Holy ground and holy service.
What a humbling honor.
We get to participate in sharing the glory and holiness of God—just by being who He created us to be!
Walk in those custom made Designer shoes—the gifts and talents and passions and purposes—HE created for you to walk in.
journaling… (keepin’ it real)
(written during some of my most difficult days of “discovery”—)
I have realized in a way I’ve never realized before—in a stark, stripped, bold-faced, unhidden, unsoftened way—that I lost myself in my marriage—my identity, my authenticity, my preferences—my purpose, even? Maybe not the purpose because I believe my marriage and all the people our lives have touched is a part of that purpose—but solely and entirely was this to be who I was to be? No. A thousand times no. And as this is revealed to me, I have become angry—angry with myself, and angry with God to some extent, and even angry with those around me for allowing it. I love them but, even so, I bristle with resentment for what I now deem their selfish love. But mostly I’m angry with myself and God. Why didn’t I honor and nurture the person God made me to be? It was my responsibility to do so. Why did I allow whatever seedlings that tried to emerge be trampled over by others? Why??? I am broken and wounded. Angry and weary. I messed up. And now I feel like it’s too late. I created a life and a proper too-accommodating Jane that can’t be fixed. I’m too tired to flush out and flesh out the real me out, then rebuild—start over! I ‘m just too tired to do the work—the archaeological dig to find, restore, and put back the pieces of Jane. Too many layers of anger, disillusionment, fear, discouragement, and insecurities. These layers are red hot. Volatile! Touch me and I lash out. It all went too far. Too far for too long. I’ve been stripped bare and tossed in a field of black, hard dirt. No fertile soil for me to grow. No resources. Nothing left of…me! I waited too long. The seeds are dead. Infertile. Infertility of the soul for this woman. Is there ANY way out? Any way to scrape off the lives of others that I’m covered in so that the seeds in me—the seeds OF me—can see the light, receive the nutrients and energy, put down roots into fertile soil? Can the layers upon layers of dirt be scraped off to reveal something of beauty? A treasure, a mosaic, a painting created by the Master Artist just waiting to be unveiled at long last? A seed that grows into a tree so lovely with blooms and blossoms and fruit and shade of indescribable beauty and flavors and comfort that it can shared with many and bring joy and contentment to even “the tree” itself? The tree being “me”? Will I be like a tree planted by streams of waters which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither—and in whatever I do I prosper? (Psalm 1:3). Is it too late for me, God? You have seen my torment. You have seen my anger—anger that I have been directing mostly at me….and, to be honest, at You. I don’t understand You. I don’t understand why You allow SO MUCH SUFFERING in SO MANY WAYS for your creations—people and beasts. We are tormented, God. We love You and yet we find so much torment. At least I do. Oh, I have my moments of joy and peace as we commune together in the mornings, but then…but then—it’s back into this life—a life filled with pain, sorrow and suffering—and I talk not just of myself, oh no, for my pain and suffering is NOTHING compared to others—orphans, sexually abused children and teens, starving unloved people and animals. Oh the pain of the multitudes is so much to bear. How do You stand it? Tolerate it? I can do little to help. YOU, on the other hand, could do MUCH and ALL. And I have a VERY difficult time trusting You because of this. I want to. Believe me, I want to. The only thing I know to do is to keep talking honestly to You about it and to also DO my small part of easing the suffering of the world—whether it ‘s a handful of abandoned cats, money sent to free some young girls in the sex trafficking, money sent to feed a few starving orphans, money to buy a sewing machine for a woman in a third-world country, offering encouragement to anyone who comes across my path—then that’s what I’ll do. Out of my own pain, I will try to alleviate that of others. Because I know a measure of how it feels. It’s but a small measure comparatively. Help me, God. Even when I’m clench-fisted and angry. Help me. Help me move through this confusing transitory wasteland to find my authentic self so that I can become a flower and fruit-bearing tree to share with others. Flowers to encourage and inspire—even if just for their beauty. Not everything has to have a “practical” purpose. And fruit to help others be nourished and to grow—which IS practical and necessary. Blooms of inspiration. Fruit to bring sustenance. Can You work with this mess? This hardened clay with beauty and treasure hidden so deep? The clay that hates the process and jumps off the wheel more often than not? The clay that feels too hardened and cracked to ever be able to be formed and used? Can you soften me with the washing of Your Word and Spirit? Can the beauty and blooms be coaxed out? I want to be who You created me to be. I want peace. And the only way to do this is to be walk one step at a time through the process. In this fallen, broken world, this imperfect life, I will feel anger. I will feel regret. I will grieve the lost years. But it’s NOT over—even though it sometimes feels like it is. You are leading me out. Out of the barren wasteland to my personal land of Promise. My land will be part of everyone else’s to make up the whole but it will still be uniquely me. Fruit and flowers and shade and offerings only I can provide through the talents You, Lord, have put in me. You are my identity. But my unique identity within You is what I’m looking for. It’s where I want to live, and move and have my being. In You. Help me, God. For I am weak and unable to do this without You. But Your Holy Spirit in me can do all things…
music to minister and heal:
“Carry Me” (Audrey Assad)
Pain is a forest we all get lost in
Between the branches hope can be so hard to see
And in the darkness we’ve all got questions
We’re all just trying to make sense out of suffering but
You say I am blessed because of this
So, I choose to believe
As I carry this cross, You’ll carry me
Help me believe it
Fear is a current we all get caught in
And in its motion faith can be so hard to find
And we all falter ’cause we’re all broken
We’re all just trying to turn the shadows into light but
You get glory in the midst of this
And You’re walking with me
And you say I am blessed because of this
So, I choose to believe
As I carry this cross, You’ll carry me
And I know Your promises are faithful
And God, I’ve seen Your goodness in my life
And oh, I’ve found Your mercy is a river
Your love is an ocean wide
You say I am blessed because of this
You get glory in the midst of this
And You’re walking with me
And You say I am blessed because of this
So, I choose to believe
As I carry this cross, as I carry this cross
‘Cause as I carry this cross, You’ll carry me
You’ll carry me, God
You’ll carry me
And Your love is an ocean wide
BOOK RECOMMENDATIONS
How to Succeed at Being Yourself: Finding the Confidence to Fulfill Your Destiny ~ Joyce Meyer
The Art Of Saying NO: How To Stand Your Ground, Reclaim Your Time And Energy, And Refuse To Be Taken For Granted (Without Feeling Guilty!) ~ Damon Zahariades
The Gift of Being Yourself: The Sacred Call to Self-Discovery ~ David G. Benner
Approval Addiction: Overcoming Your Need to Please Everyone ~ Joyce Meyer