It all comes back to Identity.
When I was a young adult I volunteered in AWANA at the church I grew up at. The group I was placed with were the 3rd-6th graders and I loved them. I can still picture those girls’ faces. One of the things I had the privilege of doing was helping to lead the singing. Now, I am not a singer as in I don’t sing well. Every time I get up on stage to speak I fear someone will turn my headset microphone on while I’m singing and my voice, passionate it may be harmonized it is not, will be loud like the worship teams. Although not a singer, I do love to sing and I love, love to worship. Maybe more than I like to do anything else.
Approval.
I was putting my mascara on, the last step before I was “leave the house” ready. As I coated my genetically light lashes, I thought of later in the evening when I would wipe off everything I had just put on. Then my mind went to the day ahead of me, realizing I maybe wasn’t even going to see people who would notice me that day. Then, I wondered why I was going through the trouble. With the last confident swipe and intentional look in the mirror, I thought, no, today I am putting mascara on for me. Today I wanted to get ready. I got dressed, not for the people I would or would not see, but for me. I chose clothes that reflect me. I didn’t change my necklace to one that might match more; instead I kept the one on that reminds me of my GG; it’s cobalt blue pattern one she would approve of.
How do I treat myself?
Lately the saying “treat others how you want to be treated” is ringing differently in my ears. I was with a friend who was treated in a way no one would want to be treated. In thinking about her situation, I asked myself this question: Is our default to treat people not how we want to be treated, but how we treat ourselves? Stay with me.