It’s amazing how much we filter in our lives.  We filter our time.  We filter television shows with our dvr.  We filter through emails.  Social Media pictures help us to filter pictures, to cut and angle, to make edges less harsh – wrinkles less noticeable.  In so many ways it is a good thing.  We save time, we look better.  We think we feel better. But there is the other side…we look better but it’s not real.  And do we feel better? Really?

Life is full of spam and messiness, things that take our time.  We are inundated with information of how we should be better, less wrinkly, and less real — and a lot of it is stuff we bring on ourselves.  It’s why I fail at Pinterest. It’s why many people I know get bummed out by social media.

A while ago I decided to stop trying so hard to make things look easy and just be myself. Not that anyone was fooled, but I was trying really hard.  And failing. Today I was thinking about how amazingly exposed I’ve felt this year…

About a year ago I woke up with a “burning” feeling that God was calling me to speak to Women. I didn’t know how or where, but I knew exactly what I was called to say.  A month ago my first official speaking job since the burning started happened as I spent a weekend with a beautiful group of Mothers in Central Oregon.  I spoke of things I’d never shared, completely exposed, and so did they.  I can’t even begin to describe how God worked, but it was far beyond anything I was capable of. And being open to what was next.  And Now?  I. don’t. know. What’s. Next.

I told you I’m scared of change right? I said I was allergic and here I am all open to it, and stuff.

Being exposed to me is scary. In fact I’ve had multiple dreams that I was completely naked, trying to hide myself.

And that’s a nightmare…you won’t catch me posting pictures of myself in a bath tub showing my legs…I’ll barely undress in a dressing room. I don’t wear shorts for goodness sakes.  I’m really afraid to be exposed – of being “naked” and being judged.

Because…

What if it’s not God’s will?

What if I’m bad at it?

What if I fail?

What if I end up naked and people see all my wobbly-stretch marked-saggy bits- or notice that the clothes I have are grass stained and have mustard on the sleeve.

This year with all the hard stuff, has also taught me a lot about failure.  I’ve failed. A lot. Why would anyone want to listen to me? Why would anyone want to still be friends with someone who cries so easy, or who really can’t have a long phone conversation unless it’s after 10 at night and there’s a good chance I’ll fall asleep.

And  I want people to like me. And I’m insecure when they don’t.  Recently I was at a birthday party and all the people around me were taking pictures and talking about trips together, and I wasn’t included.  I started to think it was me — because I’m insecure and my day had sucked, and I was so mad at myself that it mattered to me.

Because I want to matter to others.

As a mom, some days I feel so invisible.  I get up earlier and get things ready, and things pass in a blur between lunches and laundry – and I’m only needed when I’m in the bathroom.  Fights will break out about dishes and the dog. No one will notice that their laundry is clean, and that I got them all to baseball on time.  So when that happens and I feel invisible to adults as well, I feel more exposed than ever.  It’s like the Moms group at our church that I started that had fizzled out, and when it was resurrected I wasn’t even invited.   It hurts and stings.

Why would anyone want to hear me?  When I’m not valued by the people I love most…now that the filter is gone. The edges aren’t soft and the angle isn’t good.  It’s just me.

Exposed.

The burning returned.  It returned five days ago when I woke up so incredibly sad I couldn’t get out of bed.  I tried to work out to get it to go away, and it stayed put.  It overwhelmed and laid on my shoulders, weighing me down.  I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror because it looked back at me. I couldn’t even go to church yesterday because it made me feel sick and weak.

But today, as I showered and I watched the steam rise and fall on my shoulders and dissipate. I prayed and I heard.

It’s okay to be broken.  And to want to feel wanted and appreciated. And loved.  

I think that’s why many of us love when people “like” our posts or respond to us, because we want to be seen.  Because when the filters are removed life isn’t easy.  And being exposed opens us up to failing. But it also gives up a chance to live…again.

So I can’t ignore the burning to talk about what I know.  Being a woman. Being a Mom.  Being Invisible.  Being Broken.  Because I get it…I’m learning that filters don’t hold a candle to being exposed.  To being real.

I’m very blessed but I’m also very broken — and I’m finding there’s a freedom in admitting it.  So I wait. I wait for the next step, with all its edges and angles.  And I hope that as I use this little “life” of mine to shine, it will help others to feel less invisible and so very loved.

Because you are. Loved. I see you. And I get it.