Our Velveteen Selves

I just love this photo. Maybe because the colors are godawful, and the pants are so tight, and the sequins -- egads -- but he is sooo... confident. I love it because he is totally working this outfit, and the sunglasses and wristbands tell me he has put thought into this. I think I love it so much because it says, "I love who I am right now." I love it because, ironically, in the midst of such a dizzying pattern and badass pose, I feel like he's being authentic. It's likely that his mother chose this for him, poor thing, but clearly, he is on board with the choice.

I want to be this kind of Mama. (No, not the kind who dresses her children like this).

The kind of Mama who instead of being confident in triangled, color-blocked ugliness and neon green sequins, am confident in what I feel, think and desire from life, motherhood and God. I have had a revelation recently: In not being Real, we cheat ourselves and the world of loving Jesus.

It turns out that we're all a little bit like the Velveteen Rabbit, in quite a different way than Jesus. The irony is that in becoming Real ourselves -- by acknowledging the shabbiness of our own hearts --is precisely how we invite the Realness of Jesus into our lives. In admitting that my current life is not what I necessarily imagined it to be, or that I totally lost it with my kids today, or that I sometimes struggle with depression, or that I sometimes need a break from my family, or that I just can't say, "Oh, yes, we are so blessed" one more time without using a sticker to plaster the smile on my face, I find Jesus. We strive, strive, strive to present ourselves a certain way, to portray a heart that is deeply in love with the Lord, and to be fulfilled doing it. This is not to say all of our lives are awful and that we only have negative experiences. However, I have yet to find many Mamas who are willing to admit these things when they are a reality. There's this weird taboo in Christian culture about being Real, like there's something wrong with us if we aren't enjoying every single minute of motherhood. Sort of ironic given the fact that we've all accepted Amazing Grace. We are lost, and now found. We are empty, and he fills us! The very premise of Christianity is lost -- the fact that Jesus came to RESCUE our hearts in need -- in our concern over ourselves and our image. In short, it becomes all about us.

For many of us, how we view ourselves and portray our lives is an empty knockoff of the Real thing, like the "Coach" purse hanging in the back of my closet. C'mon Mamas, let's be honest. Picture a recent conversation you had with a friend. Think about all the words we dropped into that conversation to give that friend the indication of what we believe, think or feel. We calculate our words, without realizing it, because we are afraid to show the world the disparaging parts of our hearts. We are afraid to show the world these parts because we haven't shown them to Jesus yet. We haven't shown them to Jesus yet because we haven't invested the time. We haven't invested the time because we are living the craziness and wonderful-ness of raising a family, and we somehow think that Jesus is in a separate category, only to be experienced at 5am, during "quiet time," or randomly here and there. We become ashamed of not having "quiet time" with him, so we hide from him. And then we start the cycle all over again. The problem here is that we have boxed ourselves in, with quite a bit of help from the enemy of our souls. In keeping us on the treadmill of shame, guilt, and condemnation, he robs us of the very purpose of our lives.

I want to wake up in the morning and shout from the mountaintops, "He loves me! You wouldn't believe how dark and hopeless it was, but he is Real!!" I want for everyone to know how he rescued me from woundedness in relationships, eating, trusting others, and parenting my children. And those are only the first few. There are hundreds of ways he has re-tooled my heart -- slowly and patiently peeling my onion, piece by piece. I sometimes get very tired of this particular onion and long for some variety. However, I have accepted this onion and though it makes me cry and get very stinky fingers from handling it, I want him more than I hate those things. I want to be different...recognized by his stamp upon my heart.

Yes, I am talking to you, Shabby {Chic} Mamas. Most of all, I am speaking to myself. I am a Christian. I am not talking about unbelievers or even nominal Christians. I am talking to you and me: the women who have known Christ for decades but still somehow struggle to experience him in a life-changing way each day. I have spent a majority of my life learning about him and knowing him more deeply, but I still feel a void. I don't want it to be sporadic or occasional. I want him everyday. Intimately. While I cook, during storytime, in the midst of discipline, errands, and dance class.

There is a way, and there is more. That is what we are all doing gathering here together each day. Maybe if I continue to use lots of italics, we will all become convinced of it. Sorry about that, I just love emphasizing the things that I'm really passionate about. :) I certainly do know that it's much easier to wrap myself up nicely with a pretty pink, satin bow and pretend that nothing going on in the Nursery is bothering me. Well, my sweet bunnies, it is time to get dirty. The Nursery is going haywire, and we are the only bunnies that know Who can help us.

When we begin admitting what's really going on in our hearts, there's room for Jesus. When we make room for him, he spills his grace lavishly upon us. We are forever changed, and it spills over into our exchanges with other Mamas at Target, the park, and the little sweeties in our own homes. You see, you just can't give away what you don't have. I don't know about you, Mamas, but I am deeply invested in giving away Jesus.

Let's invite him. To reveal. To pull back the curtain of our hearts. Let's take this scary step together because your heart is worth it. The world is worth it. He is worth it.