Flaunting My Flaws

"I know I'm not supposed to think this way," I mused to Josiah recently, "but reading what she wrote makes me never want to write again. It's so good!"

He gave me a sobering look: "I'd imagine that's how a lot of people would feel about your writing."

The words were just a little sharp, and they cut me - not in a harmful way, but like a skilled surgeon cutting out a malignant growth - painful, yet necessary.

Today, he and I had a conversation about singing. Often, when I'm listing my strengths, skills, or gifts, I list speaking, teaching, and writing. Almost every time, Josiah pops in from the side to add singing to the list.

"Why do you do that?" I asked today. "I sing okay, but I'm just not that great."

His answer, again, surprised me and changed my perspective. He didn't tell me I was the next American Idol or contender on The Voice. He didn't applaud my skill.

Instead, he said, "When you sing, it connects with people. You connect with people. So, it's not just a talent, it's a gift. I think God wants you to use it. It may not look like what you think or hope it will, but I think God will use it." 

Oh my prideful heart.

Later, I was talking with a friend about our writing. We talked about the editing process and how we go about it.

We also both admitted to secretly being relieved or happy when we find the typos of incredibly gifted writers, not because we applaud a perceived failure, but because it makes us see those people as a little more human. It gives us hope that maybe, just maybe, it's okay not to be perfect.

And then it made sense.

This picture of perfection we're all striving for - whether it be the cleanest house, the most brilliant blog post, or the voice of an angel - is completely pointless.

I've got news for you: there's always someone better, and if there isn't, give it a minute - there will be.

However, there's also someone looking up to you, a person just behind you or who's just starting out. And maybe, just maybe, if you're willing to lay it all on the line and show your human frailties and imperfections, then you're inspiring that next better person.

And by doing that, you might just change the world, one inspiring typo or flat note at a time. 

After all, God didn't say His power was perfected in our strengths, but in our weaknesses.

So now, I'm flaunting my flaws. God doesn't need perfection; He's already got that. God needs my willingness to try my best and be authentically the person He made me. I'll leave the rest to Him.

But He said to me,

"My grace is sufficient for you,

for my power is made perfect in weakness."

Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses,

so that Christ's power may rest on me.

2 Corinthians 12:9

This One is Not for You

When did I stop creating and start producing?

When did I decide that popularity or people's opinions trumped self-expression?

When did I decide to prostitute my art for the formulaic "devotion" I thought people wanted to read?

When did I sell my soul in the name of ministering to the souls of others?

My daughter shared a YouTube video with me the other day called Lighthouse - song and spoken word combined - that broke my heart in a million tiny pieces, but also lit the kindling left on fire. A million questions like the ones above rose up like smoke from the flames: dense. They choked me and burned my eyes

"I've never watched," Danielle Bennett says, "but I can tell I'm beautiful when I'm writing...."

Those words. I cannot even describe the longing they evoked...to just write. 

I love words. I'm passionate about words, but lately, the well dried up because I deemed my heart not worth sharing if I couldn't wrap it up neatly, stick a bow on it, and label it with a Bible verse and a catchy title.

If I couldn't write something that I felt would impact people for Jesus or teach them a lesson, then I decided it wasn't worth writing.

I have a vision board with hand lettered quotes. One of them says, "Start writing - no matter what. The faucet does not flow until the faucet is turned on."

Every day I look at it...and how many times have I written? Twice. 

Two. Times.

But now, it's time to prime the pump.

I've been waiting for a supernatural message to tell me what to write, so I could then put words on a page, but guess what, God can't steer a vehicle I'm not driving.

Writing is not something I do. It's not something I decided I wanted to try and maybe it'll work out or maybe it won't, depending upon the number of followers I get or who wants to read my posts.

Writing is WHO I AM, and I cannot wait to be me again. I am bursting at the seems.

I want to write. I want to speak. Why? For no other reason than to make beautiful music with the words that drip from mind and mouth.

Because alliteration makes my heart hear magical melodies.

Because metaphors are life.

Because I love the way words can float on the air like bubbles on a warm summer day, drifting down and popping gently on the listeners nose, or they can pound a stake in hard, frozen ground with a deafening clang that leaves readers breathless, speechless, and changed.

Because I have another quote on my dream board that says, "Be fearless in pursuit of what sets your soul on fire," and I am tired of walking in fear and timidity and oh so ready to walk in the power and promise of all that God has made me to be.

That's me: words pouring from a faucet and a soul raging in passionate flames. What the heck. If the Holy Spirit can be both fire and water, so can I.

I'm stepping into my muchness. This is my manifesto. This blog post is not for you...unless it is.

Unless you, too, are weary of the need for perfect performance or the prettiest instagram page. For $100 they'll teach you to fetch the followers, feed the fans, and fan the flame of self-promotion, but they forget to share the tiny writing on the bottom line that says you might just sell your soul in the process.

Not this girl. Not today, Satan.

I'm taking me back, and ya know what? She's not perfectly branded, but she is perfectly imperfect, and in a world full of fake perfection - in tones of blush, mint, and pearl - a little blood, blond, and dirt might stand out just fine.

I'm on the road to the real me with a pretty sign that says, "Authenticity or Bust" slapped on the back of the van, and it's taking passengers, so if you're ready, hop on board.

It's going to be a wild ride. 

Rejecting the Gift

Picture this...

You've put together a beautiful gift for your kids. You planned for an incredibly long time. You saved. You sacrificed. Then, the day comes for you to reveal this amazing gift, and not just a gift they want, but a gift they desperately NEED. Your heart is in it. Your soul is in it. You can't wait to see how blessed they are by it!

But they reject it.

Some of them just can't really figure it out. They don't really understand it. So you think, maybe later.

But others see it, understand it, and pick it up and look at it...only to toss it aside to run off and play in the trash heap.

Painful, right? Heart-breaking. That's how I've been treating God's grace.

Grace is the word the Holy Spirit planted in my heart to focus on this year. I've been studying it, thinking about it, trying to figure out how to walk in it. It's a journey.

But then...

Last Saturday, Josiah and I took part in a service project with our life group. On the way home, someone sent me a picture of the group...and I was mortified.

Despite the fact that I said I was going to start appreciating my body...
Despite the fact that I promised myself I would stop hating it...
Despite the fact that I told myself I would be KIND to me...

I was deeply ashamed and utterly disgusted.

I went pretty far down the rabbit hole that day. Hell hath no fury like a person hell-bent on self-flagellation. No matter what Bible verses came to mind or what Josiah said, I rejected it. I said I deserved to be ashamed, and I deserved to be punished. And if God wouldn't do it, then I would.

That night, I sat in church, empty. I felt like I'd completely bled myself dry. And then, the pastor got to 1 Corinthians 6:19-20:

Or do you not know that your body is the temple of the

Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God?

You are not your own,

for you were bought with a price.

So glorify God in your body.

And I broke. I poured all my pain out on the altar. I couldn't even pray. I just sobbed and let the worship music crash into me and over me like waves.

Oh, the overwhelming, never-ending, reckless love of God.
Oh, it chases me down, fights 'til I'm found, leaves the 99.
And I couldn't earn it, and I don't deserve, still you give yourself away.
Oh, the overwhelming, never, ending, reckless love of God.

There's no shadow you won't light up, mountain you won't climb up,
coming after me.
No wall you won't kick down, lie you won't tear down,
coming after me.

Finally, I made it to a prayer partner and asked her to pray over me, and she did, until at last, peace came to me.

But the next day, I knew I couldn't just let it go. I was grateful to have been given the peace, but I know my Father well enough to know He is never without waste. I'm supposed to learn something.

So, back down the rabbit hole I went, but this time with a rope called the Word of God.

But time and again that day, I was drawn to search out people's theological opinions on whether MY BODY is a sin. I found myself desperately wanting to confirm my deepest feelings that my body, in its current state was sinful and wrong and shameful.

I mean, sure, God created it, and it WAS good but I've destroyed it, right?

What if I can't lose weight? I have PCOS, so I'm insulin resistant, and it's really hard to lose weight. Is it a sin for me to stay the way I am?

I know people who are insulin resistant often need to watch their cards and the glycemic index. How do I know what I can eat? Is it a sin for me to ever eat carbs? Is it a sin for me to eat ice cream EVER?

But, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't find sound theological justification for the theory. Just as a child born from a sinful act is not shameful or dirty, but a gift from God, my body, though some sin may have led to its current form, is NOT sinful. It's not shameful. It's a gift.

Nevertheless, each new line of questioning sent me down another trail that inevitably ended with "My body isn't good enough." Even when I was simply trying to make a plan for HOW to care for and respect my body in a way that honored the Spirit within it, I got confused and continued to feel overburdened and ashamed.

Why? Two reasons.

First, it is impossible to properly care for and show love to anything you think is shameful, disgusting, and unworthy. You can try, but the truth will seep out, in one way or another.

Second, and more critically, I realized I have no clue how to actually walk in grace. I have always felt the need to punish myself mentally and emotionally for any mistake or transgressions.

When I was praying with my mentor Saturday night, I told her I knew God had already broken the chains I was wearing, but they were mine, a piece of me, and I wasn't sure I knew how to or if I wanted to be rid of them.

She said, "Okay, I'll tell you what. The next time you go to the gym, before you get on the treadmill, put 200 lbs of chains around your neck. Then get on and see how far you get."

As I searched for Scripture the next day, I came upon Hebrews 12, and here is where I'm going to get a little unorthodox. I was deeply affected by the WHOLE chapter, but I don't want to type all that out here. Instead, I'm going to share with you the message God gave to me as I walked through the chapter, and I'm praying you'll read the scripture directly for yourself.

God said:

I have a plan for you, Alissa; I have a path I need you to walk down. It's not an easy path, nor is it short, so in order to walk it you're going to need to take off the chains and straighten up.

You're walking slumped over, your knees buckling beneath the weight of your own condemnation. You can't possibly keep your eyes on me that way, and you certainly can't walk straight on My path. 

Trust me. Get rid of those chains and trust in my love. Don't reject my grace, the beautiful gift I've given you through my Son. I sacrificed for you. Don't toss it away as meaningless and run off to play in the trash heap of lies.

Do you know the gift I've given you?? Esau didn't. He sold his birthright for a single meal. Please don't toss away your rights as my daughter for the momentary illusion that you have control.

Don't place yourself under a law I've set you free from. Don't set arbitrary rules for yourself so that you're still a slave to your own rewards and punishments. 

If you want to eat, ask me what you should eat. If you want to know how much to eat, ask me to tell you when you're finished and to give you the courage to obey.

My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness. (2 Corinth. 12:9)

You're weak. That's okay. Instead of making rules for yourself, trying to rely on your own strength to keep them, lean on me, and I'll show you a power and a peace you cannot even comprehend. Let me be glorified because where you can't, I CAN.


Friends, let me tell you: I still struggle. Changing deeply held beliefs is a process. For just about my entire 40 years, I have felt like I wasn't good enough, in so many ways, and I needed to be punished for it.

What I've been missing is that there's only been ONE who's ever been good enough, and He sacrificed Himself for me. Jesus completes me. He fills all my holes and shortcomings, so that I am ALWAYS enough.

And through Him, so are you.