I have been aching to write again. I wish I was a writer. I would love to have something interesting and captivating to write about. Instead, all I can do is nestle in to my keyboard and screen and pour my guts out. I don't know if anyone will read it, but maybe that's safer.
The last months have been up and down. Life has picked up the pace and I can't see around the next corner. In times of great uncertainty, I tend to be very, very hard on myself. And the cycle begins: I have no control in my life so my thoughts turn inward, my insecurity manifests itself as anger and my temper boils over. And I think it all comes down to fear. Fear that takes hold of my heart and hardens it. My patience wears thin too quickly, my mouth opens and my kids take the brunt of my rage and feelings of instability. And I clean. And I clean. And I clean. And I make my kids clean. And clean. And clean.
The voice in my head tells me how unworthy I am. How unloved. My eyes remind me how fat I am. My back and feet ache from a thankless job. I feel lonely for the fireman. I need his arms around me more often and his warm body next to mine when I wake up. I need my friends to have more time to be together for no reason. I need laughter.
I need to know I am loved.
As I am.
Unconditionally.
I came across a new song. It's been playing in a loop now for about 2 hours. I hope to know it by heart by hour 3. The lyrics caught me and I choked with tears.
Your Beloved.
(chorus)
Because I'm your beloved,
Your creation,
And you love me as I am.
You've called me,
Chosen for your Kingdom;
Unashamed to call me your own.
I'm your beloved.
I think the ongoing struggle in my heart is this: feelings of insecurity about being loved. I think I am one of those people who is easy to be friends with, and then easy to leave. I am interesting and funny and creative and fun-loving, and also ordinary in so many ways that the newness quickly wears off and all that's left is me. just me.
And I don't know that I deserve love. I'm selfish. Quick to anger. I don't love myself well.
And here's the irony...
My name, AMY, means beloved.
How crazy is that?
Be-lov-ed
1. greatly loved; dear to the heart 2. a person who is greatly loved.
God is laughing now.
I smile just thinking that He has quite the sense of humor. My biggest insecurity and He has power over it. Power to cause my parents to name me, while still in the womb. A name for this moment. Waited for me to put two and two together. A reminder of how great He is. How He knows my heart and my thoughts, my fears, my struggles. My days were written before even ONE came to be. That means He knew today and every day before that I have cried over feelings of being unloved. My name, Amy, is in His book. He is listening to me because I am His beloved. I am dear to His heart. I am a person who is not just a little bit loved, but GREATLY loved. I am chosen. He isn't ashamed of me. He hasn't disowned me.
He loved me.
He loves me.
As I am.
Thank you God.
