i am more.

Sometimes, I am able to get out of my little world and truly SEE things.  To see the heart issue behind a moment of disobedience.  To hear what Lane is actually needing from me in a moment of venting about work.  To catch an unhealthy thought and throw it out before it can take root.  To be grateful for the moment.  To dial down a defensive spirit and actually hear what the person is communicating.  To trust before I worry.  To stand on historic faithfulness and promises fulfilled before I become anxious about our future.  To believe what I know to be true.

How easy it can be to forget what we know to be true.

How hard it is to look beyond myself to see, hear, feel, KNOW, a bigger story.

How easy it can be to get wrapped up into the words of another.

Someone that I don’t know, but that I trusted, wrote about how to remove moles naturally from home.  She talked of how disgusting they are, how desperately she wants her body free of them, that they are nasty little blobs- adding in a delicate “yuck” to drive her point home.  She was just talking about her own body, but she was also indirectly talking about mine.

I have beauty marks, dots, freckles, moles across my body.  Lane calls them my “accessories” in those moment when I am struggling to accept each and every one, kissing a freckle as he says it.  He reminds me that I am beautiful just the way I am and that our God did not make a mistake when creating me.  Our God that sung the stars into space and whispered creation into being.  That the One who is LOVE did not make a mistake on me.

But.

She thinks they’re ugly?  What would she think if she were to look at me?  Would she think that I am ugly too?  The further I read the smaller I feel.

So I tried to fix it.  I followed her guidance on how to remove moles.  I just tried it on one.  I laughed my little experiment away when Lane questioned me on the root issue behind it.

C’mon, I said.  It’s harmless.

If I had dug deep and let myself dial in to what was behind my experiment, it was this: I felt un-lovely.  I was no longer comfortable in my own skin.

Her experiment worked, though it was not harmless.  I felt defined by this one little thing.  I felt less-than.  I felt small.

So what did I learn from all of this?

That our words matter.  That even if we’re just applying them to ourselves, with the assurance that it is innocent, our words matter.  They have the ability to help others see the glorious beauty that they possess, the strength and courage that they have access to.  OR, they can make someone else feel ugly if you talk about how your own size {___} legs are too fat.  Words can make someone feel loved and cherished.  OR, they can make them feel overlooked and small.  Don’t toss words around.  Check your motivation of saying something.  Practice the art of discernment before speaking and building others up before yourself.  We don’t need any more voices speaking “not good enough” over us; society does a fine enough job at that.  Say something of value and let there be a lot of love behind it.

That those we love can sometimes see things with much clearer eyes than we can.  Lane saw and he called me out on it.  A few people have the authority, the history, and the love, to speak into my life in ways that others can’t.  Lots of times they can see things that I might be blind to.  You need those people in your life to steer you back to where you want, and need, to go.

That beauty is not defined by appearance.  To be beautiful is to be completely, absolutely, unapologetically, wholly comfortable in your own skin.  That beauty is bigger, deeper, more comprehensive than what we see.

For a few days, I lost sight of that.  I let the essence of myself be whittled down to one little thing that I was insecure about.

But I am so much more than that.

I am strong and brave.  I have a sense of adventure woven into the very core of my being.  I can climb mountains, birth children, speak at conferences, wipe away tears, console a broken heart, run trails, transition from plank to downward dog, imagine up a robot monster, channel passionate hearts, educate students, dream big dreams, say hard goodbyes and survive, travel, move to a new city, feed a family, volunteer, write a book, serve on a board, answer hard questions, kiss a skinned knee, create, play, laugh, go on a walk, be inspired by the colors of a sunset, see joy in the details, and twirl.

How easy it was to lose my way.

There used to be this one little thing that I struggled with.

But now I remember.

I am not defined by that one little thing.

I am more.