Chapter 8

Daddy's Little Girl

Guilty. Yes, I was guilty.

Ryan and I rocked the color coordinated outfits.

Our girls wore matching dresses.

Sundays came and went with us being able to pull off the look that we were hoping to attain to. Yet, the look that meant everything really meant nothing if we were both miserable and dying inside. Why was that look so important? I guess it was just a sign that we were o.k. that everything was fine and that our lives were what

everyone thought they should be.

Now, while I'm certainly not against these things, I love a good color coordinated day, (smile) when it was portraying something that I was not, I was beginning to resent them altogether. Why couldn't I just pick some sweatpants (insert shocked look here) and a big sweatshirt and sit in the back of church and beg someone to help me. I guess pride and acceptance. That would have torn apart the image we were upholding and how did that benefit us?

Trying to live up to someone that you cannot be is crippling. I wished deeply sometimes that this could work because then we would be able to keep so many people happy, but we were just miserable. I was constantly vexed between these two things. I definitely wanted to be accepted and yet couldn't for the life of me do what it took to be accepted. I wish I could have worked harder, done better, been able to pull this off, but I was broken. Something had broken inside of me that would not go away. Broken in need of repair, "Did anyone else feel this way?" I would often wonder.

That's where Jesus came in.

He "wrecked" me, some beautiful friends of mine say it that way and I love that. He "wrecked" who I wanted to be, thought I should be and would strive to be. He took all of that away and just loved me.

RIDICULOUS!

What was I supposed to do with that? He loved me in my sweatpants on the couch cuddling with my Kate. He loved me when I was so frustrated with Julia I couldn't stand myself. He loved me when I lashed out to Ryan and knew I shouldn't have. He loved me when I was in high heels, just as much as He did when I was in shorts, in my backyard, watching my girls splash around in the pool He had given us.

What was that all about? That blew my idea of Christianity. So instead of me doing all of those things to "get His attention" so to speak, I already had His attention and He loved me. I had heard sermons so many times titled, "If you were born in Mary's day, would you be the Mary?" I wanted to be with everything in me. I wanted to be the one to get His attention and for Him to say, "Aha! She's the one that is doing everything right!" But, it didn't work that way. He just loved me, for me.

I had a hard time allowing myself to let this fully sink in and so I asked Jesus about it.

He again shared a beautiful truth with me.

There He sat. Everywhere in my life.

-He was at my Kindergarten graduation out in the audience cheering me on.

-He was at a church play rooting for me shouting out my name.

-He was there through a time that I had gotten in trouble where His heart ached for me.

-He sat having tea parties with me.

-He was at my wedding and with my dad was walked me down the aisle.

-He was at my girls' births and held them gently in His arms, proudly kissing their faces welcoming them into this world...

It went on and on. He showed me picture after picture and time after time where He was there with me, not just there, but rooting for me, cheering my name, speaking out love and acceptance and joy. My heart overflowed. As He was showing me these things, this song played through my headset...

You're the end of the rainbow, my pot of gold,

You're daddy's little girl to have and to hold.

A precious gem is what you are,

You're mom-my's bright and shining star.

You're the spirit of Christmas, my star on the tree,

You're the Easter Bunny to mommy and me;

You're sugar, you're spice, you're everything nice,

And you're daddy's little girl.

You're the treasure I cherish, so sparkling and bright;

You were touched by the Holy and beautiful light.

Like angels that sing, a heavenly thing,

And you're daddy's little girl.

I was his little girl. He was proud of me. Matching outfits or not, skirts or not, perfect home life or not, I was His little girl and that acceptance changed the way I viewed everything.