Perfect Love Casteth out all Fear

I want to share with you a very personal experience. Not because I am proud of it . . . but because I am tired of the shame that I feel when I have experienced it, and hope that this visual can help you understand a little more about the voice in your own head, and the dark trap it can feel like.

This pregnancy has been a big struggle for me. I know I talked about it briefly a few posts back, but I want to get a little more real with you about some of the battles I have been fighting. The battle of “Am I enough?” has been a silent one for me for a long time. I have shared with all of you the times in the past when I have had to face that deamon, but I wanted to describe ways in which it still tries to show up now.

Being enough isn’t just a one-time battle, but a lifetime pursuit.

Every day we will face triggers—reminders of trauma from the past—that try to take us to our weakest points. Sometimes we will feel armed and ready for them, other times they will shake us to our core. Fear of inadequacy is not always a fight we will be prepared to win.

For the first time in months, this week I finally felt pretty good. I went out and bought maternity clothes—so I would stop trying to squeeze into my old pants and feel depressed when they didn’t fit. A few weeks back I had discovered I was low on iron and it was really messing with my emotions—and that was finally leveling out. Morning sickness had faded away, and I had stopped dry heaving every time I walked into a room. I had overcome a lot of the triggers that had come up during the early months of my pregnancy—I talked about a few posts back—I was feeling ready to embrace this changing body and just enjoy the miracle that was growing inside of me. Life was feeling pretty good.

I couldn’t wait for my doctor’s appointment—and hear that reassuring sound of the baby’s heart beat. Everything went smoothly, until my doctor stepped right onto the landmine that I had thought I had covered pretty well. She looked up from her chart and said, “My only concern is . . . you have gained a lot more weight then we want you to at this point.” I looked over at Scott with a get me out of here look on my face. I tried to hold back the tears as I listened to her remind me of the “healthy choices” I should be making.

By the time I got to my car I wasn’t really embarrassed and ashamed of my body any more—I was just pissed. Angry that a fear I had been working through for weeks now had voice again. I said a little prayer, “Heavenly Father, I see what he is trying to do. Get me all worked up about my changing body and lose my focus on the things that really matter. I know what I can do to help my body and my baby be healthy, please help me stay focused and not let this fear creep back in and make me lose track of the progress I have made in working through this truma and help me to be able to see pregnancy as the blessing that it is. A few extra pounds—I don’t care about that—I just want a healthy baby.”

The night went on. We put up all of our Christmas trees and had fun decorating the house. Morning came and I got all ready in one of my new maternity sweaters. Everything fit, and I actually felt pretty in my own skin. I walked into the kitchen where Kaleeya was sitting at the bar. She looked at me and in the sweetest little voice said, “Wow, Mom! You don’t even look pregnant in that shirt, you just look fat!” A meaningful complement I am sure, sunk deep into my heart . . . where it met the little voice that spoke even louder than it had for months, “You aren’t enough—Scott isn’t going to love you with that disgusting body.”

My soul sunk low—believing every fearful word in my head. I got the kids off to school and as I walked in my house and shut the door, I burst into tears. Every fear—all the dark memories of the past—surrounded me. I felt trapped. For a split second I was taken back to a moment when I was sitting in the bathtub almost 8 years ago.  Tytus was just a few weeks old. I had already started to feel the tension and knew that something wasn’t right. Emmett came walking into the bathroom. After weeks of wondering what was wrong whenever he was around, I had come to the conclusion he didn’t want me because of my just had a baby body. All I needed in that moment was for him to look over and tell me I was beautiful, but instead he looked into the mirror, checked himself out for a few minutes and then announced he was heading out.

The fear came back as strong as it had been that day, and in the few weeks that followed. Chaos is what followed. Murder. Truth of affairs. A life turned upside down. Somehow my little mind was just sure, it all started with a changing body—a body too fat to love.

And there it was again—this toxic feeling of wondering if I was going to be enough.

I changed my clothes, got in my car and drove to the only place I know where pure darkness cannot follow. As I sat in the chapel at the temple I opened up a set of scriptures to a random page. I looked down in the middle of the page and there was a scripture I know well.

“For perfect love casteth out all fear”. Tears filled my eyes as I was taken back to another memory—the day I had to write Emmett’s funeral. In all my anger, and fear, and shame, and guilt, and humiliation . . . that was the only scripture or quote I read that felt worthy of being on the bottom of the program. Everything else seemed like a sham—in that moment, those were the only words I could believe.

So again those words spoke to me. As I sat there I tried to picture perfect love. All I could see was the Savior. He is perfect love. He is the only one who can take it all away. The fear, the pain, the unknown, the uncomfortable, the guilt, the anger, all the ‘I am not enough’s, the grief—losing a loved one, or losing a relationship you cherish . . . He has the power to carry it away and bring peace. He has angels standing around us daily ready to go on errands, just for us. To take away the darkness we feel trapped in, and to help Him carry in the light.

With that truth, no amount of fear can take us down. We have to remember we only have one enemy, and his goal is to bring us fear—to remind us often that we are not enough—it is never from God.

We all have scars. Instead of shaming the parts of us we think make us not enough, I was reminded that—because of Him—I have the power to love me, which makes me even more capable of loving those around me. I have the gift to heal after divorce, abuse, infidelity and murder. I have a healthy body capable of creating life. I have a strong spirit and a trusting heart. Because of Him, I have the power that can help me find my truths, over and over again. I can move forward. I have the ability to let go of the pain of losing a relationship with a stepdaughter I adore. I have the chance to forgive the people who have hurt me in my life. Because of Him, I can be forgiven when I have forgotten who I am. I am capable of anything. I am worthy of fighting for.

Because of Him, we can overcome. Because of Him, we can feel light. Because of Him we can one day feel perfect love. And because of Him . . . perfect love casteth out all fear.  

Here we are 13 weeks. We will find out December 20th if it is a boy or girl. What do you think?

Are you there?

So even after all these years of blending our families, Shawn and I still don’t have this marriage thing all figured out. There are times when we struggle with trust issues. Trust is one of—if not—THE MOST important foundation of a healthy marriage, yet one so hard to build after it has eroded.

We still struggle monthly, weekly, daily—even by the hour at times— trusting one another, trying to heal from the trust that has been broken—and often times its not even by the person in front of us.

So we found ourselves on that path again last night, and what could have—and should have—been a relatively easy conversation . . . turned into a fear driven insecurity fest. One of us defending . . . one accusing . . . neither one healing. We were getting nowhere, and fast.

Soon, I gave up and shut down—all the while sitting in my silence, wishing he would just see the truth. I took a break from my frustrations and said a little prayer—at first asking God to change Shawn’s heart, help him to see things MY way.

After my prayer I secretly waited and hoped for the apology I felt I deserved, but soon I found myself telling him all the reasons I loved him—all the things I—had and—was always going to do to protect our marriage, and then asked him if he ever prayed for clarity when trust issues were clouding his view.

He said, “It doesn’t really matter anyway . . . God doesn’t ever hear me. He doesn’t answer MY prayers.” There it was. His fear was that God not only didn’t answer his prayers, but He didn’t even hear them.

A statement I knew in my heart was a lie.

I looked into his big blue eyes and said, “So I want you to think about something . . .

For the past few months Bostyn has been begging for a hamster. And for months we have been saying no. Once Christmas lists started being made—talk of the hamster only increased. It was the only thing she wanted for Christmas. She even spent hours researching facts about hamster breeds and their care—and presented her case in an informal debate against you. Even after all of that . . . we still said no. But then she just kept asking and asking and asking. Each moment of begging, breaking you down a little more until yesterday you went out and bought her an early Christmas present and had it all set up to surprise her when we got home. Not because you wanted a hamster, but because you listened to a little girl who you finally saw as ready for the responsibility— and the blessing— of owning her own pet.

I don’t think prayer is much different. Not that we have to break Heavenly Father down . . . but we do have to show him our willingness to work hard, research, look at all the options, and consistently show him that we are humble enough to keep asking for what we want—and that we have righteous desires we know He can help us achieve. But we can’t do any of it without His help.

And just like us—He is a parent who wants to help His children find happiness. And though I don’t know that buying Bostyn a hamster makes us good parents, . . . I do know that today we listened to one of her desires. But how many times did she have to tell us how important it was to her—before we really took her seriously? 100? If you want answers . . . or blessings, or to overcome struggles, you have to keep asking. He might not send the answer the first 10 or 100 times you ask . . . but I know when you are ready, He will bring you the answers you need to feel peace.”

Prayer is real. It is a direct communication we can have with our Creator. It is a gift we were given way before we came here. And it is—without a doubt—a two-way conversation. So if you have tried it—and didn’t hear back, don’t give up just yet. You might have a few more times to try before your true humility shows through.

Prayer is not something we can do with the expectation of a certain outcome—it is an act of faith that we perform to show God we trust His timing, and we need His help. It is an act of humility—letting go of any pride that we think we can do this life on our own.

Fear is the opposite of faith. Trust issues are fears—of the past and future—brewed together creating chaos. The antidote to fears of the past and future—is faith in the present—faith in the plan that got you here.

So make today count—and never stop asking God for His hand in your life. It might just surprise you what path He has in store . . . to lead you back to Him.

Happy Thanksgiving from our crew (that are all growing way too fast)...

Colors at war

We live in a world full of contradictions. We fight for peace. We lie about our strength to get power. We tear others down so we can feel big. We want our voices to be heard—our opinions to matter—but we don’t want to hear what anybody else has to say. We hurt the ones we love. We hate those who believe in something we do not, but we stand for our own rights and freedoms. We long to live in a country lead by leaders who are honest and care, so we hate anyone who doesn’t find those answers in the same party that we do.

We teach our children to be kind . . . but we show them how to hate. We want them to grow up to be individuals, but we push them to friends who will help them fit in. We tell them to love everyone, as they watch us pick a side and draw a line in the sand. We want them to stand up for themselves—but we shelter them when anyone tries to question who they are. We want them to fight their own battles, but we never let them try. We tell them to always show respect . . . but we don’t show them how.

We live in a world full of fighters, who are taking a stand against all that they do not understand. A world full of insecure individuals who have been trained to hate anyone different than them—to despise anyone who can’t see things their way . . . and then we wonder why our nation is divided.  We wonder why our babies are taking guns into schools. We wonder why nobody seems to know where they belong. They are confused. Hurting. Longing to know where they are safe.

We tell them to be strong, then they are put down for their strength. Nobody knows exactly who they should be, because the minute they try . . . somebody—somewhere—is going to hate it.

Too skinny, too fat, too black, too white. Too ugly, too pretty, too smart, too stupid. Don’t try so hard, work harder. Don’t be so silly, why are you so serious? You have to move on, how dare you succeed. You need to be strong, it is ok to be broken. You must be honest no matter what, but don't be too bold it will hurt someone's feelings. Too passionate, too passive. Too young, too old. Too tall, too short. Too much . . . not enough.

Contraditions. Chaos. Confusion. In our world. In our countries. In our towns. In our families. And in our hearts. We don’t feel safe being ourselves, so we break down anyone who tries to be.

We want to save everyone from believing the lies we just know we have answers for. So we fight them, and put them down . . . because we truly believe, until they can see life from where we stand, they will never be happy. And yet here we are . . . divided and broken—waiting for the world to change, to make us happy.

So misery, fear, anger, and bitterness fill our newsfeeds. Everyone disappointed that someone else isn’t making them happy. Everyone thinking they have the answer to another man’s joy. Only the problem with all of us hating each other as we fight for who is right—is that everyone is losing. Because history has proved that hate never brings unity. Revenge and fighting never bring peace.

If we want to live in a world that is loving—we have to be tolerable of the unlovable. If we want peace, we have to search for light. If we want to feel hope, we have to cling to faith. If we want to feel united—we must let others speak . . . but even more, we must listen. We don’t have to agree to respect. If we want to speak our truths, we have to learn to do it without the expectation that it is going to change anyone but ourselves.

When we are truly doing good for our world, it won’t matter what they think of it. We won’t need others to agree with us to help us know we are making a difference.

This time around lets do it better—for each other, for our children—for our God. We have all been blessed with so much. Let us use that freedom to share our light, not add to the darkness. You can make the difference in another person’s life—not by forcing them to find joy in your ideas . . . but by loving them as they are.

To unite a nation, we love the people. To unite a people, we are tolerant of their differences. To unite the world, we bring together our strengths and stand strong in knowing we don’t have to be the same to find joy in being together. We learn that we can be enough even when someone else is strong.

The real battles aren’t the ones being fought in red and blue—it is a fight of dark and light. Let God be with us as we share His truths, showing each hurting soul that they are enough. Standing for what we believe by living a life full of love for all men.

He didn’t create us to destroy each other, He made us different to learn how to love as He does.  Someday it will all make sense, but until then . . . let us find strength in living the faiths that teach us how to love our neighbor—no matter what color of bumper sticker they sport. No matter what type of building they gather in on Sunday. No matter what color their skin, their eyes, or their hair.

Unity comes in all colors and all forms . . . but it always starts with love.

This video seemed fitting for this week: 

Related post: Putting Yourself out there

What I wish I would have known in Middle School

Dear Blog, Sorry I have been abandoning you lately. Kids started school and I promise to think of you more often. Haha. 

I was able to teach for Mother's Who Know on Tuesday for their girl power class. I think they will have a link to it up on their website, but I recorded some of it as well! 

Hope everyone is having a great week and enjoying these last minutes of summer. 

I have been cherishing these last few weeks of having my kids to myself, but am so ready to get back to work! 

Thanks for listening. 

Ashlee

Let me feel . . . so I can let go

First off . . . don't you love the random faces Youtube pics to set as the video picture? Yes, me too. 

Thank you for your sweet emails, those of you who have been sharing how these tools have helped strengthened your relationships these last few weeks. 

I am so grateful for modern technology that lets me record my thoughts I want to blog about on days where I have no time! Today on my grocery store outing I starting thinking about many things. A friend who's husband passed away last week and other friends struggling to find ways to help her family; some of my kids who are struggling; my own marriage that seems to have ups and downs daily. And how to apply all the truths I know to these relationships and scenerios.

And as I have been learning new skills, I am trying so hard to apply them! Like I said the other day . . . we all want to be better than we were the day before. Application comes a lot less natural than the learning of new ideas. So we need to be patient with ourselves. We won't be perfect right away. It is application and testing that will help us really gain a strong testimony of the skills we learn. The universe has defiantly been putting mine to the test and asking me to learn to be more patient and loving along the way. 

One day at a time friends. One day at a time. We are all overwhelmed, tired, worn down, and exhausted some days. Tired of doing the same patterns that get us to a place where we feel we aren't being heard or seen in the way we want to be. 

Imperfect beings striving to live perfectly in an imperfect world . . . well not today. Today we embrace our fears, or anger, and our hurt. Not to allow them to be our allies anymore hiding deep inside, trying to "protect us" from pain. But embrace them and allow them to feel so they can stop fighting and begging to have all the power. 

Kind of like a young child who acts out, because any attention is better than no attention, our emotions will continue to cry from the pit we have hid them in until we can acknowledge them in healthy ways. 

The people around us need that as well. To feel validated and seen. Acknowledging their struggle, without forcing your view on how they can fix it, can and will change your relationships. You will become a safe place for others to use as a sounding board as they fight their own battles and find answers to their problems. 

I am learning so many knew things and I enjoy sharing and learning from all of you. 

What things are you learning or trying today to make your world a better place? I would love to hear from you. Leave a comment or email me topics you want to hear about, or struggles you are overcoming with new skills! We are all in this together. We are fighting similar battles, just different wars. But we aren't alone. Thank goodness for that.