The major issue underlying everything is that I am a performer by nature. Several people commented that I seemed really comfortable speaking in front of our church on Sunday, and they were surprised, because they know that I'm not terribly social. But that's kind of what being a performer is about, for me at least. Give me a microphone and stick me in front of a crowd, and I'm great. Leave me to talk one on one with someone, or (even worse) make me speak to someone on the phone, and I am a wreck and can barely complete sentences.
This has been true in other areas of my life too, as I've always been able to hide behind performing in smaller ways as well. Performing at work, performing as a student or at church as the pastor's kid. But this part of my life doesn't have any masks to hide behind or stages to keep me safe from the fear of interacting and failing. It's a down and dirty stage of life.
And I'm kind of glad to be here, to be forced to be honest with myself and get to know who I really am. And I'm SO glad for the many reminders that have been placed in my life lately of grace and love. That God loves me for who He created me to be, not because of what I do. That my husband and my kids love me whether or not the laundry is all done and the house is spotless. Truthfully though, I can't quite understand and accept that yet, so I'm grateful that the message keeps coming at me from lots of different places.
In totally unrelated news, today is July 20th and I am wearing a sweater. I am INCREDIBLY grateful that it's not hot here. If it was even 75 or 80, I would probably be whining about that. But still, we're going to need some sunshine around here soon, or else we're going to be a bunch of depressed, vitamin D-deprived zombies running around come November. We cannot endure 9 months of winter gloom unless we at least get a few weeks of summer first. Even Vivian's hitting the coffee cup. She plays pretend coffee drinking a lot, but yesterday she needed the real coffee maker on in order to pretend. She made about 20 pretend cups of coffee before I kicked her out of the kitchen.