Skip to main content

Venturing True Grit

Currently, I am avoiding writing an essay about what stereo type I fit into for my Comp class by writing a letter. Half way through that letter, I am having some guilt for not working on my homework…so I began to think about doing my homework. I’m writing it about how I am a Christian Fundamentalist and what that means in the circle I’ve grown up in vs. what it means when most people hear that phrase. I began to have doubts about my topic rather quickly; especially after some things transpired this weekend…

You see, I think my new stereotype should be “Wimp”. It would, again, be a stereotype I fit into quite well.

I’ve always taken time to warm up to people when I haven’t seen them in awhile – my grandparents can attest to the fact I’ve had this personality flaw since birth, causing them many hurt feelings. As I get older, it has gotten easier to just speak to most people. But when my opinion of them is high, my pride gets in the way and locks my mouth. While I don’t fear confrontation in 98 percent of circumstances, there are certain people that I fear speaking to [this is not the same issue as my disdain for public speaking]. You see, it isn’t that I am afraid of Person A, but rather I respect this person in such a way that I don’t want to be thought dumb or something equally humiliating – whereas in speaking to Persons B-Z, I hardly care what their opinion of me is allowing me to speak freely. So I do nothing. I say nothing. I look away. I move away. I act rudely. I roll my eyes. I can talk for hours via the internet or texting, but face to face I become stoic – frozen in fear.

And sadly, I don’t know how to act differently. I try to be bolder, but end up feeling foolish so the next time I try to speak I end up over thinking to the point that literally nothing will come out of my mouth. If only certain people were aware of the hundred conversations I started in my head but couldn’t work up the courage to actually open my mouth to begin them. I can speak when spoken to, oh how proud the Puritans would be, but initiating a conversation? The chances of my actually accomplishing that are about the same as the odds of winning the lottery in each state over the course of my life.

So what now? Well, I’ve always heard one of the beginning steps is to admit you have a problem; I HAVE A PROBLEM! Check. Next I suppose I’m to reach out to those offended. Half a check, as I sort of reached out. Lastly, common sense says if improvements are to be made, practice is the key. But how? How to practice speaking to a person when all I want at this point is an impossible mulligan for every recent conversation; including those that only happened in my head.

Now that my “Wimp” title is published fact – as well as my skillful multitasking-procrastination… - I must return to my letter, a letter that, because of this very stereotype, I won’t actually be sending. One last thing must be added as a disclaimer of sorts: while there are many things I regret about recent times, all things considered I had an amazing weekend surrounded by amazing people whom I miss terribly.


Popular posts from this blog

I am Redeemed

You set me free. I don’t have to be, That old man inside of me. I’m not who I used to be. Thank God, I’m redeemed.
I’ve loved this song since it was released. The simple truth I so often forget. I am redeemed. It’s basic. Essentially basic. But why can’t I remember?
So often I find myself slipping into my version of “that old man.” I listened to a sermon awhile ago and the pastor talked about how everyone goes through times of desert. Then he started talking to me.
Just make sure you aren’t keeping yourself in the desert any longer than you have to. Longer than you have to.
The phrase played in my mind like tacky wordart. Big, bright letters swirling into sentences. Into meaning. Into my life.
I don’t have to be like that. I don’t have to do that or hide there. I am redeemed. Bought back. Made better.
Set free.
Don’t keep yourself in that desert any longer than you have to be there.
There is a special kind of grace in this remembering. I get to realize all over again how thirst-que…

On Still Moving

Any prayer requests?
That’s how my lit prof always starts class. This morning I was thinking, wishing I were there right now to shoot up my hand.
Yes! I have praise!
Although, I have to admit, that isn’t how I woke up.
It’s finals week. I was cranky and annoyed as well as emotionally drained from writing some pretty personal stories for my two thesis classes.
Like normal I reached for my phone to check the time – up before my alarm yet again.
This time I had a few text messages. One friend said some things I didn’t want to hear. Just like friends to share that sort of stuff we just have to hope it’s to benefit us, not to sting.
I was in a fine mood as I walked out to get started on breakfast. Scrambled eggs would help get me out of that funk right?
That’s what I was praying, anyway, just before I shared my news with my roommate as she headed out to class.
I brought my computer out to listen to a sermon. Recently in a crisis of emotion I told another roommate to listen to Tim Keller; it would…

First in Awhile

The past year or so I have been working with the youth group at the church I grew up in. Such an odd thing to wrap my mind around. The group that in so many ways formed who I am today is something I still get to be there for. Though now I'm the responsible one. The mature one. As our interim pastor says, "the one with all the answers." (He JOKES anyway).
I show up and help lead where I can. Because it's what is needed. And it's a calling I feel I have on my life. To work with young people, to help teach.
The irony is that my journey lately has taken me through a struggle with discipline. Becoming the person I need to be and doing the actions to get me there. I watch my husband and it seems so easy for him while for me often it's a battle ofbut I don't want to
And I have to admit comparisons have only intensified that feeling. It's so easy to sit back and deny what I ought to do in favor of what's right in front of me. 
But I've been so blessed w…