Believe the Best

This is my friend Stephanie. I am continually amazed by her. Let me just give you some basics before I move any further. Stephanie works, in her home, as a newborn photographer. Her pictures elicit joy, warmth, and communicate the love that a parents feels for their child. She also makes t-shirts and dolls for her etsy store, in an attempt to raise enough funds to adopt a child – or children. She currently has seven children. Yep, that’s right, I said seven. Including a toddler and an infant. If I didn’t know the truth, I would think she was making the whole thing up.

 

 

 

I follow Stephanie on Facebook like a stalker because every single post is either thought provoking, hysterical, or filled with beauty. Every. Single. One. Just recently, as I was scrolling through her feed, I saw pictures of a room makeover she did for her girls.

Here’s the thing – as I looked over the pictures, several thoughts rushed into my mind in quick succession. “What the heck? How can she do all the things? I can barely keep my 2 kids fed and clothed. She is such a much better mother than I am.” This thought was followed quickly by, “why are we even friends? She bakes from scratch and I microwave on a good day. She has a successful business that she manages to keep up with in between all the other things, I am exhausted by the end of a school day. She is good at – well – everything. I’m a pretty good teacher and I write a lot of words. We are nothing at all alike.”

All of these thoughts occurred within about 5 seconds. They came as waves of guilt and shame for not being enough. For not being Stephanie. The comparisons in just those few seconds were enough to completely steal my joy and my confidence. And forget being happy for her girls that they have an updated room. I mean, whatever, of course they have  a fabulous room. They have a fabulous mother.

I almost let it get to me. I almost let myself go down into the pit of self-pity and shame. Just before I did, one last thought entered my head, what would Stephanie say to me in that moment. And I literally laughed out loud. If she could have been there in that moment she would have either given me a lesson in truth about how God created us all differently but all well, or she would have laid out for me what gifts I have and use. And we would have laughed together at the ridiculousness of what comparison, self-doubt, and lies can do to a person.

You see, I marvel at Stephanie. But if she is to be believed – and I think she is – she marvels at me. Now how’s that for shutting down guilt and shame and lies. The truth of the matter is, Stephanie and I, we are both just doing our best at getting through this life thing. And this life thing is hard. So very, very hard. To add shame and guilt and comparison to that only makes it harder. Instead, we should be cheering each other on, pulling for each other, welcoming each other, and celebrating each other.

As I thought about what blessings Stephanie has brought to my life, what she would say if she was hearing my thoughts, and how I could put into words what was going on, it occurred to me that I should just ask her. That’s what friends do. So, I messaged her, and told her what I just told you. Asked her if I could use some her pictures to make my point. Graciously, and with great encouragement she agreed. Then we talked for just a moment about this thing that we women do. How we either beat ourselves up, or try to take each other out, so that we don’t have competition. We spoke of how similar we were in ways I did not know.

To start with, we share some similar life situations. Stephanie has that beautiful smile that you can so clearly see, but she has not always had reason to smile. The details are not mine for the sharing, but life has not been easy. In fact, it has been desperately, horribly hard at times. Yet, that smile you see, it is there almost always. It’s there because she chooses for it to be there. She wakes up everyday and makes that choice. We have that in common. We choose to love, and live, and smile (mostly) even though hurt and sadness and fear are very real. And on the days when we don’t feel like we have what it takes, we get strength from other women around us – including each other.

My house will never look like hers – unless she comes and decorates. 🙂 And my kids will always get store bought donuts rather than homemade ones. And that’s okay. In fact, it’s good. Our similarities help us understand each other and our differences bring glory to God. We are all different. None of us can match exactly what another person does or says. And we aren’t supposed to. Rather than moan and groan because I am not Stephanie, I need to be being Kelli to the best of my ability. And you, reader, you don’t need to be anyone but you. Go do you – well.