adjective \ˌō-ˌna-tə-ˈrel, –ˌna-chə-\
: in a natural state : without anything added (like my pic on this blog post)
We live in a world that is constantly asking us to add stuff.
I need to add that new pair of boots to my collection because the current shade of black doesn’t match my personality.
I need to add some gold metallic nail polish because my toes are just disgusting all by themselves.
I need to add a “touch” of lip gloss because my lips are just too dry and boring.
Every facet of life around me tells me I need to add more life to my hair, add more fullness to my lashes, add more shine to my skin.
Recently my family has been on a journey that has taken us through dramatic life changes (see my post on Food Addiction). When I shop, I am always looking for the dangerous ingredients that have been added to my food: high fructose corn syrup, GMOs, preservatives.
We seem to be obsessed with adding things to our lives,
our hobbies…the list goes on and on.
All this began when I was a young girl. I learned very quickly where my value was according to the standards of those around me. According to the world.
I was driven to succeed – to be stronger, faster, prettier.
Things were falling around me constantly. I didn’t know it, but the things I kept trying to hold on to – to add to my life – were just junk, garbage, wreckage.
I didn’t know it then, but I was playing a role. Trying to be enough.
human wreckage OR being good//enough
a beautiful mess in one scene
a play by carrie lane wisehart and women everywhere
small child (also, little girl)
present, past and future
The stage is set as a junkyard. Spare tires, cans, appliances, even the front of an old truck hang from the fly space. Center is a very large old frame, wooden, rotting, from which our past action will take place. There are heaps of garbage everywhere, carelessly left, forgotten. In front of the frame is an old dock, no longer use on the water, but for our present action. During key moments of time, wreckage falls from above.
When I was in third grade, I was in gifted class. Because we were “gifted,” we supposedly got to do things that “enriched” us. Therefore, we went on an archeological dig. Here we were, digging through this wreckage of concrete and dirt, looking for fossils. After several hours of digging, I found a leaf fossil covered in concrete. A special find. Within the wreckage.
Frame: Small child standing alone, dancing, humming, holding a puppy stuffed animal.
Frame: A jump rope falls from the ceiling. Upbeat music begins playing. The small child gets the jump rope and begins jumping in time to the music.
When I was little, I had a whole group of girls practicing a choreographed jump rope routine. I was happy. My childhood was wonderful. I lived in a dream world of imagination. I was hopeful and optimistic. I saw the world through rose colored lenses. There was joy, there was beauty. It was hard to believe someone wouldn’t love someone else. I was sheltered from pain – and truly didn’t know it existed outside of the scraped knee from the big wheel accident. It was hard for me to understand hatred. (wreckage falls from ceiling) It was hard for me to understand another person’s pain. (wreckage falls from ceiling) I was a good performer. I had good grades. But my teacher…my fifth grade teacher…believed in a discipline technique. Called skid row.
Frame: man standing, speaking to a class.
In the event that you forget to do your homework, you will be removed from your current desk location to what I like to call skid row. There you will learn that it is not responsible to forget your homework. Ever.
her is looking to the frame. Wreckage falls behind her.
Frame: Little girl seated in chair, in “skid row.” her looks to the frame as she speaks.
So I learned the value of performance. I learned the value of getting things right, of appearing to have it all together. Subconsciously, I was learning that it wasn’t ME that people loved, but what I did. So I followed suit. Without knowing it, I was beginning to place more value on what I could do, not who I was. I was beginning to play the good//enough game.
So I played piano. I ran track. I played basketball. And I felt it here (hand to heart) if I failed. If I wasn’t good enough, or fast enough, or tall enough or pretty enough…
her looks directly at the crowd.
then I wasn’t enough. (wreckage falls in her arms) I was oblivious to the obvious.
her holds on to the wreckage, trying to balance it in her arms.
So I kept achieving.
Every comment of acceptance. Every comment of “You’re amazing” gave me self worth. Every negative experience knocked out seven of those positive ones.
Once, I got the lead in the musical (throws wreckage in the air, dances). I was so excited.
her 2 is seen in the frame, writing on an imaginary wall in black sharpie.
Until I saw my name written in the bathroom stall (more wreckage falls)
her is surrounded by wreckage – trash – garbage. She sits down in the center of it.
My value was in all of my achievements. What other people thought. The things I COULD be instead of the things I actually WAS. I would reach
her reaches her arms toward the frame, sees the little girl sitting just like her, reaching back.
for acceptance, for love, for my worth in all the things I could ADD to my life.
her piles the wreckage in her lap, surrounds herself with it, pulls it closer.
Maybe if I could cover myself in all of this stuff, I would finally be good//enough.
HE walks out on stage in front of the frame and looks in at her surrounded by garbage and trash, covered in it. He walks through the frame and picks up the little girl in HIS arms.
Until I realized I was looking at life the wrong way.
HE carries the little girl, steps OUT of the frame away from the wreckage.He sets her down and turns the little girl toward the frame. Her walks away from the wreckage, stands next to HIM.
I was adding everything to my life in order to fix it, but when I looked through the frame with HIS eyes, I saw it all for what it was: JUNK. WRECKAGE. GARBAGE. And I saw myself as nothing. But nothing was okay – because I was HIS nothing. HE determined my worth.
And because HE is enough,
I am enough.
I don’t have to add all that stuff to my life.
Her grabs the little girl’s hand – her younger self – and they stand facing the audience in front of the frame.
Lights go dim on the stage behind her. All that can be seen is her standing in HIS shadow.
I only need to stand in HIS shadow. I don’t need to add anything else.
Psalm 139:14 New International Version (NIV)
14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
Please join me in reading all the other blog posts about finding our value in HIM. And please post your own “au naturel” pic on social media and stop adding stuff to your life! You are beautiful JUST THE WAY He made you! So proud to be part of a group of authors who are transparent and want to embrace who they are in CHRIST – not who the world wants us to be.
Nick Kording: http://nickkording.com/thoughts/…
Lindsay Harrel: http://www.lindsayharrel.com
Joseph Courtemanche: http://www.commotioninthepews.com
Gabrielle Meyer: http://www.gabriellemeyer.com
Jaime Wright: http://coffeecupsandcamisoles.blogspot.com
Emilie Anne Hendryx: http://eahendryx.blogspot.com
Andrea ‘Dia’ Nell: http://andrea-michelle-wood.blogspot.com/
Sarah Baker: http://godbooksandchocolate.blogspot.com/?m=1
Kristy Cambron: http://www.kristycambron.com
Rachel Britz: http://www.rachelbritz.com
Cara Putman: http://www.caraputman.com
Stacy Monson: http://www.Landof10000words.wordpress.com
Laurie Tomlinson: http://www.laurietomlinson.com
Katherine Reay : http://www.katherinereay.com
Katie Ganshert: http://katieganshert.com/blog/