Insecurity

I'm not a surfacy person by any means. If I'm going to have a relationship (or even a conversation, for that matter) I'm usually going to try to get it to a deeper level, or at least to a level where I find more about the person to better relate to them in following interactions. So if you're my friend, beware. I really want to know YOU.

Over the past few months I've been reading "So Long, Insecurity" by Beth Moore. It's tough to read large portions with studying and such, but this week I'm trying to finish it. Not that I think it will cure my deepest insecurities, but because I think it will open me up more to who God says I am versus what other people say that I am.

Which brings me to the deepest rooted insecurity that I face: the fear that people secretly don't like me. Woah, didn't know it'd be that hard to put online. Some of you may be judging me for putting something like this on the Internet, but do you think I'd really rather you read about my plans for over break or new craft ideas than something that's actually important? I think not.

OK so back to my insecurity. Everyone has them, and for women especially, it haunts them. For some it's their weight. Some it's their appearance. Some it's their intelligence. Some it's their finances. Some it's their competency. For me it's being truly enjoyed by people. I want people to be around me. I want people to miss me when I'm away from them for a longer amount of time than normal. It sounds SO selfish, and I'm sure it is. But it's true.

(And don't read this post, feel bad, then send me a message, tweet, or txt telling me how much you love me and think I'm great.. OK, you can, but for some reason, even though I receive messages like these ALL the time, I crave for more.)

I guess that since I love telling people how much they mean to me, I expect other people to enjoy doing that as well. In reality, the thought probably doesn't cross their mind nearly as often as it does mine. People DO like me (granted, there are probably a few that don't, but for the most part I'm likable).

It's just this dang insecurity.

And I know exactly what events fueled it.

Changing schools in 6th grade and not having a single close friend for 2 years.

The boy I thought I loved randomly stop pursuing me, leaving me with a hundred questions.

Having two mentors in a row suddenly stop mentoring me, one even cutting off all communication for months.

I'm not throwing a pity party here. I'm just clearly defining my insecurity, hoping I can relate to someone going through something similar, comfort those who feel this way as well, and help those who need to clearly define what and how their deepest insecurity came to be. And maybe it'll help those of you who call me "friend" know me just a little bit better.

I'm Too Tired to Think of a Title

So it's 1:30 AM, but I realized that if I don't blog as things happen or thoughts come, I push it off for later and then ultimately forget or it's not as well-thought-out.

This last week has been incredible. The first 2 months here I was homesick as I could get, preparing to apply to other schools near home. Then I began making friends and beginning to enjoy learning, and it got better. My core group of friends is incredible! There's about 15 or so of us all together, and it's pretty comical trying to fit everyone around a 8 person table. But we do it. Every day.

Towards the start of school, I asked God why He was putting me into this place where I was 5 hours from everyone I loved, knew not a soul, and was forced to spend hours upon hours reading history and literature. I thought that maybe His plan wasn't a 4 year run at Milligan after all.

But, friends, His ways are perfect. And now as legitimate friendships are beginning to grow, as I begin to spend hours upon hours with my fellow students, in conversation about everything imaginable, I am content. This semester which seemed to be inching by slowly is 5 days from being finished, and it kind of makes me sad.

So, here's to spending every moment imaginable learning, listening, and experiencing. And here's to making my mark on the Milligan College community in the name of Jesus Christ.

Joy

Joy is probably my favorite fruit of the Spirit. And, boy, does He bring it! Joy. Not always happiness, which is a fleeting feeling, but joy... never-ending joy from the Lord.

But I sometimes have this little feeling that some people think it's fake. Or that I use it to suck up to people.

But that's not it. Not it at all. (Granted, I am often a suck-up, but do I use a gift from the Holy Spirit to persuade people to like me? No. That's just wrong.)

Often I look around at so many people who are proclaiming Christ's love and grace on them, but as they live day to day, they spend their time with grim looks on their faces and holding grudges over the simplest things.

The Maker of the universe loves me. The Maker of my heart and body loves me. The Redeemer of my soul loves me. Regardless of anything else: family status, relationship status, social status, popularity status, the fact that my Jesus loves me should fill me with joy at all times. There are some times when I'm hurting and it's not as evident, but I'd like to think people consider me a joyful person.

So, choose to let the fruit of the Spirit planted in you to shine. Cuz more often than not, Christians in America are too afraid to speak with their words... so if your life isn't speaking Christ, then there's really no hope.