Things I’m Afraid to Say

Hey, Friend. Thanks for voting on my social media stories. This post won by a slim margin over “Lies the Church Tells about Women” so, we’ll do this one this week and aim to publish that one soon.

A few disclaimers: First, this is by no means an exhaustive list. Let this be the first of many posts like this. These are just the ones I’ve thought of this week. Ha! Second, I’m not doing this for attention. I’m doing this for my sanity and hopefully yours too. ‘Cuz mental health is good, and stuff. Third, I trust you not to weaponize this against me or anyone else. If something shocks you and you need more information, please send me a message or an email. I implore you not use this as fuel for gossip. That’s not what God’s kids do. Or decent people, for that matter. I trust you, Dear Reader.

I’m scared to say these things for a variety of reasons. Some of them are confessions, and confession is always scary. Some of them are fears of people’s reactions if they knew. And some of them stem from a fear I have to be known. Because if you know me, you can hurt me. And if you don’t somehow you can’t. Or at least that’s how my logic goes.

I’m shaking with fear as I say these things, so let us begin, in no particular order, rhyme, or reason …

• Christians who are familiar with me probably (no, probably isn’t right, I know they do) criticize me behind my back because of my ideas about politics. And it hurts my feelings.
• I want to be an “influencer” on social media, but I’m horrible at it, and because the algorithms and trends are always changing and I hate asking people to constantly lookatme lookatme lookatme, I don’t think I have it in me to acquire this skill which seems so necessary in this era. 
• The first time I heard the audible voice of God was as a middle-schooler after binging and purging so I could make my wrist as small as Shannon’s, and He said clear as a bell, “This is NOT what I have for you.”
• Jesus would be a feminist if He walked on the earth today. No, not the man-bashing bra-burning type, but the gender equality type. 
• I was molested as a teenager and I forgave my abuser, because he apologized and because I wanted to be free of it.
• Somewhere in my past, I hold a handful of months of self-harm, and a handful of scars to go with them. As it turns out, blood talks when words fail.
• I know what it feels like to be tempted to drive into a telephone pole and to step too close to the edge of the cliff, and that is one scary monster to run from.
• I struggle with low libido, and I don’t know why. I’ve tried many things, and it has nothing to do with my wonderful husband. (Please do not send suggestions, I’m far too shy about this to have a discussion.)
• I do not drink alcohol for a few personal reasons, but I do like the taste of beer and wine.
• For someone who has always worked from home, I’m not very good at keeping a home, but I wish I was.
• I often worry that I’m running out of time to teach my kids the library of treasures I hope they’ll know. 
• I’m quite opinionated and inwardly judgmental, but I can’t bear it when others are doing the same to me. Yes, I am a raging hypocrite. 
• I want to be fit and have a beautifully decorated home, but not nearly as much as you do. Or seem to. 
• I have family members headed for hell and I don’t call them nearly as often as I could.
• I want to change the world, but sometimes I just want people to say that they like me or my work.
• I’m 42 years old and we’ve been in ministry for over 20 years, and I still don’t know how to keep my feelings from getting hurt when someone leaves our church.
• For every disappointment on earth, I’m expecting Jesus to make it up to me in heaven, and I really do think about heaven every day. 

Now, you might be wondering why I’m outing myself and saying the scary things. And that’s fair. 

Number one, I think the best way to overcome the burden of fear is to face it head-on, and I also have a hunch that, like much of what I write about, I’m not exactly alone. And that maybe if I write the scary truth that you relate to, you won’t feel alone in your own fear. Because being alone in our scary truth leads to feeling more fear and often depression or at least discouragement. No bueno.

Number two, we’re in a season of change. The globe has pandemic adaptation fatigue (and, yes, I am trademarking that diagnosis; if you use it, please quote me, *wink*), and it’s almost New Years, and 2020 has taught us all at least something about ourselves that has produced a change in character and/or perspective. I’m going out on a limb, but I’ll guess that not a single one of us is the same as we were this time last year. One change I’m committed to making is that I want to be a fearless truth-teller. And I can’t be that if I’m holding back these many secrets. It’s not fair to either of us, Reader. 

So, there you have it. I’ll invite gentle comments below and I’ll delete rude, insensitive, or inappropriate ones. I’ll also shamelessly beg for these kinds of responses: “me too” , “you’re not alone” , and “this one resonates” … 

With Love (and scary truth) from My Nest,

Robyn