Probably not

Just get over yourself!

I wrote these words, laughing, on the big kitchen chalkboard.
Finally, after the tension, laughing; me and my husband.  My best friend.

For I had asked him.  Again.
Asked others.
Read my own words - back to myself.
Desperate for answers.  This new season.  This life I have.
Not content being me.  Needing to be more. 
Never enough.

And I have to tell you.
The veil parted.
This time.

I got it.

After endless searching.  The asking.  The deep sorrowing.
Looking for truth.  The mirror up.  Seeing the ugly.

Exasperated.

With myself.
With others.

How in the world to do it all?

Just get over yourself!
How easy to say.  How easy to laugh.
But how readily the inward groan when these words do not resonate.
To feel not enough.  To wonder the whys.

Expectations from childhood high and unattainable.
Cries from a pulpit resonating deep.
Opportunities round the globe.  Ministry.
Endless needs.

And my heart shuts down.
In the fear.  In the striving. 
Expectations.  Of others.  Of myself.

Where to start?  What to do?
Tired.  Overwhelmed.
Trying hard to meet. 
Sometimes only in my head.
To do what is required, what is asked, again and again.

But the striving to be what you are not; a dangerous road.

And in the studying and in the doing and in the asking.
Weariness and joy-gone and exasperation. 
Shame.  Inverted pride.
Not the pretty.  Nothing pleasing about it. 
For anyone.

So one last time.  Asking.
The words hanging in the air, coming between us.
Almost.
My man and me.

And then I hear.

The words gushing forth like a runaway garden hose.
Filling the air with sound and gesture; hilarious.
But serious truth.
Impassioned.  Eloquent. Humorous. Unscripted.
Raw feelings expressed in the ordinary. 
Getting my attention.

And to sum it up.  What he says.

Hear me good. You are enough.
Do you think you have to save the world?
Get over yourself!

And I.
Shocked and grateful for the hearing.
Details eluding me already.  The impact full.
Wishing I could replay.
To remember. The truth I hear.
Standing stark and naked between us.

Hitting my heart like a tsunami.
Flooding me with relief.
Freedom.
To be myself.

And then I laugh.
We laugh together.

Jesus came to save the world.
Not I.
Not even a little bit.

Remembering other words.
Reminding me again.

"Come to me."
"All you, who are weary and burdened."

Me.
Maybe you.
Needing to hear.
To be reminded.

"Come to me."

What our relational God desires.
For this we were created.

"Come to me all you, who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest."

When we get over ourselves, the road takes a turn.
Taking us down a different path.
A life consumed with God.  Not self.
Not the measuring of the doing and the accomplishing; endless striving.

This time pleasing God.

But pleasing others; those mad-dash attempts to feel good about ourselves.
Nothing more than a dead end street.

"For I am gentle and humble in heart and you will find rest for your souls."

Someone that good, that merciful, that gentle with us.
And me so undeserving.

Bubbling up goodness from my heart in gratitude.
Living a life to please Him.
The answer.
The road to take.

Struggles constantly reminding.

"Come to me."

And it is good.  So good.
Words on the blackboard.
In big letters.  Laughing.  Rejoicing. 

Do I think I have anything good to offer to anyone before I get over myself first?
Probably not.