In February of 2010, after I became a single mom, I wrote this. It’s a pretty keen example of my Type 4 nature… comment here if you can detect the key passages to detecting my Type 4!
I’ve been doing a lot of reflecting the last several days. Digging deep into who I am, what I truly desire for life, whom I have sinned against, how, and examining if it is habitual. You’re probably going to see a lot more transparency here in the coming months (I already know of a few people who are cringing at that. Considering how many people have come to me because of my openness, have asked for prayer, advice, godly wisdom… which I fearfully pray God will grant me for their sake… there’s nothing in me that regrets the level of transparency I have shown. There are things that will be/must be veiled, and I am okay with that, too.)
Searching into a troubled past as a little girl who witnessed some terrifying things, a teenager who struggled to find her place, ran away from home, and married for the first time to someone who manipulated and wrecked her spirit, and a young woman who has also been through a fair amount of turmoil. Some of it was put upon me by others, and much of it self-inflicted.
Before I ran from home as a teenager, I was already strong-willed and determined. I remember my parents telling others pretty much that I would stand toe to toe with the burliest, nastiest trucker and put him in his place if he was out of it. So, I’ve always had determination… just not always for myself. I think I could boldly tell other’s what God had for us as humans because I cared so much for them. Myself, different matter.
I came out of my first marriage 19 years old, abandoned by my husband, who sought to divorce me for a car breaking down among other ridiculous things. When the annulment was finalized, I made up my mind to never let a man walk over me like that again. I determined to find out and know who I was, to find out what God’s Word says about life issues, to stand up for what I believed in, and never back down from that.
I’ve always known who I am from the age of 19, forward. Every year when I have a birthday, I laugh a little bit when I think of the 30+ year old women I’ve heard say, “I never knew who I was until I was in my 30’s.”
Even as I changed, grew, fell short, struggled, succeeded – I recognized that process, knew where I was at and who I was at that point, and was willing to change if God wanted me to.
The description of me, at the top of my blog says:
A giver of gifts and time. Lover of music, especially big band, swing and jazz. Rescued widow. A dancer in the rain. A tea drinker. Compassionate friend. An internet junkie. Sudoku player. A mother to one beautiful girl. A scrapbooker. Hostess & party-planner. A woman who stands up for what she believes in. Fan of off-beat comedy.
All of it can be changed or blown away (and some of it has been altered, in life and in the reflective description here) with the exception of one thing: Daughter of the King!
God does not define me by what kind of wife I have been. Nor the type of mother I am to Melody. How frequently or well I play Sudoku. How many gifts I make, or how much physical time I devote to others. He doesn’t care if I listen to swing and big band or country and rap.
He sees me as His child.
Surely He is delighted in me when I have done right, when I have obeyed His Word. But He loves me and defines me solely as His daughter, regardless of my life and all that’s contained within it.
I could get into the very true issue of faith being evidenced by works, but right now, I simply need to remember these words from my Father, the Words He gave to Jesus:
“You are the child that I love, in You I am well pleased.”
There are two notes from this, that are serious to me (perhaps not to you, reader). First, there is now much I regret sharing during that time period. Not because any of what I shared was wrong, but because my open heart was used against Melody and I at the criminal trial against Doctor Horrible, my words twisted, taken out of context, and abused. I have a lot of struggle with regret and remorse over this.
Second, after watching DYT videos, it doesn’t make me laugh anymore to think of a woman not knowing herself until she’s in her 30s! It wasn’t really a laugh, as in making fun of them… it was more astonishment, because I almost didn’t believe it, and it sounded impossible to me. I almost thought they were joking with me or something. Now, I feel sad, because not knowing who you are is genuinely heartbreaking for a woman (and probably for men, too), and it leads to so much frustration and wasted years of trying to be what you think others want you to be. Not funny. Something to be seeking to alleviate for others!