Skip to main content

You See Me Better Than I Can

      


     Many ideas have come and gone for writing this week.  Overwhelmed with everything, I decided to file some ideas away for later (the precious gift of new friendships, more Family Features, and experiencing the loss of my father-in-law).  I've discarded others (rant on those who tell children giggling in the cafeteria is not allowed because "Someone could get hurt!").  Because I chose to listen to one of my favorite songs, though, I have changed my mind.  
      The song is one my daddy introduced me to about five years ago.  It is Willie Nelson's version of "Till I Can Gain Control Again,"  and it perfectly captures the way I often feel.    


   Just like the sun over the mountaintop,
 You know I'll always come again
You know I love to spend my morning time
Like sunlight dancing on your skin

I have never gone so wrong 
As for telling lies to you
What you've seen is what I've been
There is nothing I can hide from you
You see me better than I can

Out on the road that lies before me now
There are some turns where I will spin
I only hope that you will hold me now
Till I can gain control again

     It brings tears to my eyes almost every time I listen to it, not only because it rings true with me, but because it makes me all the more grateful for the man who holds me and for the God who holds us both.  When Matt and I went through premarital counseling, we heard a lot about how husbands are to love their wives as Christ loves the church.  That did not resound with me as strongly then as it does now, with our second anniversary just over a week away.  I am continually struck by the way Matt loves me and the amount of grace he heaps on me day in and day out, always seeing me "better than I can."  
     On my way to lunch this afternoon I caught part of a sermon on the radio.  The pastor was talking about the importance of loyalty in friendship.  He said that being loyal meant loving without illusions while focusing on a friend's strengths.  That is exactly what Matt does for me.  He shares an intimacy with me that no one else has access to.  He knows everything about me.  He knows where I am weak, but he focuses on my strengths.  He believes in me.  He pushes me.  When the weight of the world settles in on my shoulders, and I begin to spin, he holds me, reminding me that my Heavenly Father is forgiving me and nudging me and inviting me to rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
     
     

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

On Victory, OCD, and Birdsong: An Anniversary

Free indeed. That was my Facebook status five years ago today. I am pretty open about many of my struggles, my acronyms; my writing here bears witness to that. I have written about the mortification that accompanies having ADHD, especially as an adult. I've written about the crippling rounds against chronic depression where rising from bed seemed a Herculean task I couldn't face. I've written about much, hoping perhaps to be better understood and to make others feel less alone in these alienating wars. I've spilled much ink on OCD as well. I call that the oldest voice in my head. It began as far back as I can remember. It remains with me still. Of all the enemies, it is perhaps the most complicated, the most misunderstood by others. Having battled it all my life, I find it is perhaps the most insidious, affecting me in far greater ways than I sometimes realize. On my best day, it is there. On my worst day, it nearly incapacitates me. I am out of the game. I am one of...
1 comment
Read more

On Waves and Daddies {Father's Day}

There is a reason I love this picture.  It was taken in  New Smyrna Beach, Florida in 1991. I was all of four years old. My father was teaching me a lesson tht has echoed throughout the rest of my life. I remember vividly the way he coaxed me out into the Atlantic, not content to let my worries keep me by the shore. There were forward steps I took myself; there were steps I was carried. Every time a wave came, my daddy would grab me by the hands and lift me straight up and over it, with my legs kicking the entire time, terrified he wouldn't lift me quite high enough to clear the water. Already plagued by a mind perpetually asking, What if? Every wave, every time...me flailing, my daddy saying, Lauren, I won't let you go under.   When I got too scared, he would have to pick me up and just hold me while the waves broke at his knees.  I don't think the story of Jesus calling Peter to walk on water was yet etched into my mind, but this memory will stay foreve...
Post a Comment
Read more

Under My Feet

Last night, Elsie and I met four of my girlfriends for dinner and shopping on Franklin. Somewhere between the server thinking we were at least a decade older than we actually are and our second basket of bread, the topic of the decade picture came up. My mind wandered back to where I was at this time in 2009, and I told them I really wouldn't want to post a picture. In 2009, I was heavy. Physically, mentally...heavy. One month to go but not sure I'd make it out with a degree, panic attacks and sleeping too much and losing my temper and sobbing and zero confidence after being torn down even more...heavy. I was engaged to the love of my life who I'd marry a few months later, but what I tend to remember are the shame and pain and guilt from that time and that situation. I remember the way the symptoms of ADHD and major depression and anxiety all came together in the worst way at a time I needed to be my best. I remember the pain of the criticism. The times spent huddled in t...
2 comments
Read more