Now, if I quoted the title of this blog to my five-year old, I’d get the response of “We don’t use those words, Mom.” Specifically, stupid and shut up are not allowed in our house or a timeout and an apology would be forthcoming.
It’s a different story when the voices are inside our head. Oh, the painful things we accuse ourselves of in the quiet moments of our lives. I’m guilty of saying things to myself that would appall my friends and family if they could hear my internal voice. I doubt I’m the only one beating herself up on a daily basis for things I’ve done and in retrospect were not the wisest decisions or turned out to be nothing but the mountain I made up in my own mind.
A recent example of beating myself up mentally comes on the heals of our trip to Yosemite National Park. I wrote the blog post Finding My Calling in a Hike while our family was taking in the splendor of the park. Every trip our family takes involves a visit to the gift shop. My husband and I purchase a magnet on every trip we have taken together. This way, whenever I head to the kitchen, I receive a nice reminder of the memories we’ve all shared on our trips.
The ending of the most recent trip was a little chaotic. We were getting a late start on the final leg of our trip because we decided to stop off in Great Basin National Park and go through one of the cave tours. It was well worth the slight detour, however, this meant our arrival time home would be around 7 pm. No biggie, it’s still before the kids’ bedtime, right? We didn’t anticipate the two lane highway across Utah would be closed for 30 minutes to allow an oversize vehicle to pull through or the many stops my well hydrated kids would need to take in the middle of nowhere.
When we were finally back in cell service, Google Maps now said we’d be home at 8:30 pm. Ok, now we were arriving past the kids’ bedtime, but when they have games or school concerts, we get to bed later than normal, I justified in my head. One sick kiddo and many stops later, we pulled into our driveway at 10:45 pm. Everyone was exhausted, but we needed to at least get the food out of the cooler to the fridge and clean out my husband’s truck so it was driveable to work the next morning. Or I should say later that morning, when everything was said and done.
In the hustle and bustle of getting kids in the bath, which was required after a week of camping and into pj’s, stuff was getting pulled out and shoved everywhere. Instead of an organized unloading, things went willy nilly here and there. It was two weeks later when I realized, I couldn’t locate the gifts we bought in celebration of the trip, in celebration of the National Parks turning 100, and the gift for my in-laws for watching our crazy dogs for seven days. In the pile of camping gear thrown in the laundry room and backpacks tossed in the front hall closet, I couldn’t find the brown paper bags which is standard issue from the gift centers in the National Parks.
My fear was in the mass clean out of the car, we threw it all away. I want to share, my fear is grounded in past experiences. My loving husband, after the previously mentioned crazy dogs became sick on a trip back from Zion National Park, accidentally threw away our kids’ Junior Ranger Badges in the process of cleaning up after the dogs. Hence we now obtain sitters for our dogs on long trips.
So, I was worried this same thing had happened here. I mentally beat myself up for weeks because I’m not one to splurge at the gift shop for myself, but the parks were celebrating the 100 year anniversary of the National Park system and I bought myself and the entire family t-shirts for the event as well as to commemorate our trip to California.
I prayed the bags would be located. I prayed I had accidentally stuck them someplace in a closet or in another bag. Our house isn’t big, so the number of hiding places is somewhat limited. After two weeks of hunting through every bedroom and every closet in the house, I gave up. I couldn’t imagine where our bags had gone. I figured all hope was lost and seriously said some not so nice things to myself. I became angry at my lack of organization and didn’t cut myself any slack even though the unpacking took place in the wee hours of the morning.
However, I realized this self-directed anger was impacting my family. My kids saw how I was beating myself up and couldn’t move on or forgive myself. This wasn’t the example I wanted to be setting for my kids. Therefore, I did what I do to let something go, I filled my journal with an angry entry. I let it flow for pages and didn’t hold anything back, then I turned it over to God. A weight felt lifted from my shoulders and I finally felt ready to let go of losing the gifts.
Don’t get me wrong, I still would figuratively give myself a kick every now and then, but my mood improved. I’m not perfect. I tend to need a reminder of this frequently since I have a habit of holding myself to impossible standards.
Here’s the beauty of this situation. Last night, when my husband began looking for paint brushes in the garage for our daughter’s class project, there on the brown workbench sat all the brown bags of purchases from Yosemite National Park. I was moved to tears. Not because of the items themselves, but because God answered my prayers, even though I beat myself up rather than trust Him to provide.
Not loving ourselves, faults and all, is not showing love toward God. It’s a harsh lesson I continue to learn and unfortunately keep repeating over time. Every time I believe I’m done beating myself up over my divorce and the prices my kids are paying, something happens and I begin the process all over again. I’m learning to let go and forgive myself on numerous situations. I may be an odd ball, but I find it easier to forgive others than to forgive myself. This isn’t how God wants me to live. It’s about accepting His forgiveness and extending it to myself.
I remind myself of a couple Bible verses. The first is Psalm 139:14, “I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.” If I accept that I’m fearfully and wonderfully made, who am I to bash how God created me? God loved me so much, He created me in His image. A true blessing indeed!
The second verse which comes to mind is 1 John 1:9, “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” This is the promise when I repent, ask for forgiveness from God and those around me, my slate is wiped clean. Completely clean! Once again, a true blessing indeed!
I admit, I’m still a work in progress in this area and probably will be on this side of heaven. The intent of this post is to help us encourage one another to forgive ourselves and tell the stupid voices to “shut up” and cling to the promises of God. Share in the comments how you cling to the promises of God.