So the title is pretty weak, I’m writing this to be vulnerable, to face the giants in my Promised Land and even in writing the title I find myself fighting a giant.
I have noticed lately a lot of writing is popular when you include the word confessions with some kind of label that brands a person. Like Confessions of a Shopoholic or a wildly popular blog that my friend Ruth wrote Confessions of Christian Who Still Struggles (which you should totally read). And part of me wants to join the bandwagon and use “confessions” to get more views (which, by the way, I hate admitting) and part of me realizes I have a lot to confess.
So the confessions part of the title fits, the trouble came when I tried to put a label on myself. There are so many, some I endorse and some I loathe, but none are really me. Furthermore, one of my biggest confessions is I try to live up to this perfect, beautiful, christian-girl label subconsciously and it’s one I fall short of constantly.
I came to the conclusion that the only label that fits me is, well, me. Meghan Tschanz, that’s my label. And being me, there are a lot of issues I work through.
I struggle with perfectionism, competition, control, selfishness, impatience and performance to name a few. Which I think all happen to be caused by this belief that I am not loved and isolated. Writing it out in the open like this sounds stupid, but it is true. I feel flat-out forgotten, unloved and uncared for sometimes. I find myself grasping for what I perceive as love and getting my feelings hurt easily and unfortunately it isn’t only affecting me (O how I wish that my problems only affected me.)
One of my teammates shared that she felt like she couldn’t do enough to make me feel loved, another shared she felt disconnected from me and the other shared that I had said a really hurtful thing to her. I have three teammates… so you do the math.
At that moment I wanted to crawl into a little hole because I was clearly a problem. And maybe in that hole it would be too dark to see and people could continue to see me as perfect and thus still love me. I even struggle writing this now because I am thinking no one is ever going to want to marry a girl with problems like mine. And that just sucks because I want to get married really bad.
There’s another confession, I have fear. I have a fear that my issues are going to drive everyone I love away and I am going to be left all alone with only God to love my poor, broken soul. And that’s only because God has to love everyone, and luckily I am part of the everyone category.
So there you go, I clearly have some issues. Unfortunately these issues are affecting those closest to me and I don’t like it. I don’t like feeling unloved and I don’t like the way I behave when I feel unloved.
Paulina shared tonight that she felt like we were all just walking around the Promised Land and not entering. If you recall the Israelites wandered in the dessert for forty years before going into the promised land because of one thing, Fear. When Moses sent scouts to check out the Land the scouts came back saying there were some giants hanging out there and it was too scary to go in and claim what was theirs. Which is funny because the land was called the Promised Land meaning that it was promised to them–by God. I am pretty sure you can’t get anything more certain than that as God could have just blinked and killed all the giants. But unfortunately for the Israelites fear had them wander in the desert for another forty years before they got to the land flowing with milk and honey.
It’s crazy how a story that happened thousands of years ago feels so relevant today. I am just like those Israelites, on the edge of the Promised Land but quaking in my boots about some of the giants I am facing inside of me.
The big question is what am I going to do about it?
I will tell you one thing, I am not going to wander around the desert for the next forty years. So that leaves me with one option and that’s to go and face my giants.
So here I am facing them by tearing a part of perception of perfection that you might have of me and by claiming that I am loved anyway. Because just like God promised land to the Israelites, God promised me that I am loved, no matter what.
It’s a promise I don’t really feel at the moment, but it’s one I claim nonetheless. I am loved and there is nothing anybody can do, including myself, capable of changing that.
So here’s to confessions that knock down giants and to God’s great, unshakable promises.