Loosed Woman

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Failing By Four

Posted by [email protected] on July 21, 2014 at 11:05 AM

After mentioning Bryan Duncan and posting links I thought I better follow up and make sure I had not created any copyright issues . . . I hadn’t, but I came across an interesting interview he’d given in which he spoke of taking his eyes off of Messiah and wanting all eyes upon him. Here the song that so motivated me to not hide, was one he’d written as a reminder to himself that it wasn’t about him. Interesting how we can be touched deeply but from opposite perspectives. I spent most of my life not wanting anyone to look at me.


Before I was four, I knew I was chubby, I was a clutz, but I was athletic, or at least interested in sports. I could swim, put a spin on a football, and loved the neighborhood scrub softball games, not to mention rope climbing. So, as I was enjoying that sort of thing, it was then announced that I needed to learn how to be ladylike. I was too “big of a girl” to be a tomboy. On top of that news, right before I turned four, my Grandpa died and my world fell apart. Grandpa had been my “safe place.” I clung to Aunt Bonnie every chance I got, but at four, I couldn’t articulate why I threw myself down in front of the door, and hung on to her legs to prevent her from leaving.


By the age of three, I could already write the alphabet and my name, as well as the baby names my parents were considering for my soon to arrive sibling, but that was all expected. I was tying a bow before the age of three, so I was clearly trying to please. My sister arrived before Grandpa died and I wanted to help, but my mother was sure her three year old was jealous of the new baby, so I was put in my place . . . Years later, hearing stories from her younger sisters, I realize it may have been her own personal projection. To this day, I never did figure out how to be a good big sister.


Before I went to school, I could read and tell time, but I was still a chubby clutz that didn't know how to sit like a lady or use the proper hand to get a drink through dinner. I was also left-handed, which seemed to be just one more disappointing fact about me. I was really nervous about going to school. I already had an inferiority complex about my size and skin tone, I had no idea how strange my personalit(ies) appeared.


I’m truly thankful I grew up in the time I did. I had a great deal of difficulty finding a place I belonged. Considering today’s culture, some agenda would have had me in the sites. Sadly, after my Grandpa died, a great part of the rest of my childhood was spent looking forward to being grown up. By the age of 12, I was looking forward to being 40. Forty, by the way, was fabulous! By the time I was forty, my mind had been healed and I was simply content where I was . . . Seeing all of life at once took some adjusting, but Messiah did indeed send the Comforter.


I’ve mentioned previously, the fact that I just wanted to be invisible. I still struggle, at times, preferring to just fade into the background or go basically unnoticed. That isn’t part of Abba’s plan for my life. I simply do not go unnoticed, anywhere. I’m not stunningly beautiful, and certainly not sophisticated or statuesque, but I still draw comments every place I go. Thankfully, most of the comments are kind words. Harsh comments are by and large regarding my beliefs, so although I am grieved, I am not taken down by them.


I still struggle with receiving attention, but it’s not out of fear, or now even a lack of confidence, I just don’t have a great deal of experience. The last time I spoke in a gathering of a crowd I knew, there was building construction underway and the podium had been removed from the bema. I simply stated to the crowd, that I was a bit nervous, as I was used to being able to “hide” behind the podium while speaking, and clearly the music stand was not wide enough to conceal me. There was laughter, and the evening unfolded beautifully. I spoke on the subject of talents. I love encourage others in using their G-d given talents. In this world, often, creative people do not walk to the social norms, and end up labeled with a mental health disorder. I know otherwise . . . Our Creator has a better plan.


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