This One Person

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Y’all, God has blessed me with really good people in my life. People who love me, support me, appreciate me, and go out of their way for me. The gifts and kind words and all-day-long singing I received on my birthday last week were small examples of that. Seriously, friends . . . how do I deserve you? So many good people.

So, I really shouldn’t give as much attention as I do to the one exception, right?

One person. There’s just this one person.

They are a constant burr in my saddle these days. They make my life harder – and if this isn’t intentional on their part, or at least passive aggressive, it is most certainly selfish. In almost everything they do, they seem to communicate a lack of respect for me. 

It’s only one person. Why do I let this one person affect me so much?

We’ve all got our baggage, you know. I’ve shared some of mine before here in this blog. One particular parcel I tote around unseen is an unspoken message I’ve heard in my heart since childhood – particularly from the significant men in my life. You’re not worth my effort. I know what I’m doing hurts you . . . but it’s too hard for me to change my behavior. I know you need this from me . . . but that’s a lot of work I don’t want to do. I know this would make you happy . . . but your happiness isn’t worth the energy that would require of me.

To be fair, looking back on these people in hindsight and with my current life experience and maturity, I can see that a lot of them were probably trying harder than I was aware of. And there were probably times I read that message into behavior that was more innocuous than it seemed (that’s the nature of “baggage” – it gets in the way of everything). I suspect I’m reading that message into this one person’s behavior as well -- which is probably why it's hard for me to let go of.

Several weeks ago, a dear friend called me a “tough and resilient mama”. I appreciated the affirmation, and I really needed it right then. I’ve gotten similar comments from others in recent years. My ex told me once, to my astonishment, that I was the strongest woman he’d ever known. I guess I’m glad that’s the image I project.

Because I can’t help but wonder what these people would think if they saw the real me. The me that cries through my prayers some mornings, pleading with my Daddy God to keep being there, to keep taking care of me. I’m not really afraid that he won’t . . . at least I don’t think I am . . . but I’m so aware of how desperate I am. Desperate for his protection, his provision, his peace.

How desperate I am for him. Which, of course, is exactly where I’m supposed to be.

So, I get up again every morning, reminding myself that I don’t need the respect or cooperation of this one person. Sure, it would be nice; it would certainly make my days easier. But my Daddy God believes I’m worth his effort, and that’s enough.

(And I try to remind myself that this one person needs our Daddy God, too. BLESS.)

Comments

  1. Angie ThierAugust 26, 2024 at 10:22 AM

    Praying for you to stay strong. It's hard to deal with that day after day. Praying for God to continually remind you that He's with you, to love when there's no love in return. It's SO HARD. But God is able. And as always, I appreciate your honesty. Your faith and writings are beautiful.

    ReplyDelete
  2. AnonymousAugust 26, 2024 at 5:21 PM

    Even though they’re small, little burrs can really hurt! Praying for some godly sandpaper on that burr. You are strong and resilient!

    ReplyDelete

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