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Can You Release the Jar?
The other day, a jar of enchilada sauce defeated me. I gripped the lid tightly, twisted the bottom in the opposite direction from the top, and tried to access the sauce inside the jar. The lid stubbornly refused to budge. I re-gripped and tried again, but the lid remained in place. A third attempt also proved useless. Various family members passed through the kitchen, and I solicited their help to release the grip of this tenacious lid. Finally, my husband appeared and saved the day. The lid opened with a pop and the jar surrendered its contents to the enchiladas lined up in my pan.
The jar’s top functioned as it was designed. It kept the sauce contained and protected until the contents were needed. If anything, the protective lid struggled to release the sauce when it was time.
I know how the top of that jar felt. I have prayer requests that I have gripped as tightly as the lid gripped that jar because I’m sure they are the right solutions to my problems. You might do the same.
Why Do I Always Feel Passed Over?
When you think of the phrase “pass over,” it may bring some negative feelings to your mind and heart. Maybe it is just a memory of when you were a child and passed over on the playground, the last pick for the kickball team. Or, maybe you have recently been passed over for a promotion at your job or you might just feel like you have been passed over your entire life from rejection after rejection. I know at times in my life, I have simply sat feeling unseen and unloved. I was reading in Exodus the other day when this contrast struck me. What, in our day mostly bares a negative sentiment, holds a beautiful story in the pages of scripture.
What’s the Worst That Can Happen?
Before I got sober, I tried to control everything. That control, born from the fear of failing at parenting, marriage, balancing home and work, hosting, Christian-ing, etc. kept me captive in a constant state of anxiety about kids’ schedules, home responsibilities, work commitments, personal and professional relationships, body image, and social standing. I worried what people thought, I obsessed about how things “looked,” and I compared myself to everyone else while I attempted to calculate, regulate and even manipulate my circumstances to achieve perfection. It. Was. Exhausting. So, I drank to cope with the pressure.
Do I Really Have To Talk To Her?
As a Women’s Ministry Director, it seems the thing I am hearing more and more is that women feel disconnected, alone, and unseen. After the last two years, I am not surprised. Women are drowning in despair. Each time this is shared with me, the ache in my heart intensifies. I have been in that space, so my understanding and compassion for those that share this is vast. In hearing this repeatedly, I have been asking the Lord to open my eyes to those that feel unseen, those that are desperate for connection, those that are afraid to share their struggles, for fear of judgment or rejection.
Can I Stop Being a People-Pleaser?
I could spin around in circles trying to please the crowd but would still be left with feelings of emptiness inside. I cannot please everyone, and even if I could, the validation that might follow would be short-lived and fleeting. I will never be enough for this world, and this world will never be enough for me. My only hope is Jesus.
Perfect Peace
Someone(s) is perfect. There, I said it. Behind the door marked “do not enter,” in that wing of my brain where guests aren’t invited, locked inside a secret safe with my files of fears, diary of shame and private collection of insecurities was the belief that perfection might be possible.
Is Jesus' Love Enough for Me?
From the time I was a young girl, I was a hopeless romantic. I could spin it to you by saying I was just plain boy-crazy, or by telling you that I possibly watched one too many Disney fairy tales along the way - but the truth of the matter is that I desperately wanted to be loved. As human beings, but women especially, we are designed to want to give and receive unconditional love. We want to be known intimately by someone who will cherish and value us for our wonderful qualities, and someone who will continue loving us right through our bad ones. As I got older, this aching desire I had to feel loved ended up making of fool of me more times than I care to recall. I made some incredibly unfortunate decisions that I'm not proud of today in an attempt to feel love. After a while, I found those attempts at "love" to be incredibly fleeting and in the long-run I was left feeling quite the opposite of what I had hoped for.