I have been inspired lately by the teaching series at our
lovely church on the Power of Words.
The words that have
been spoken over us are powerful. I
was reading this blog post from Allison Vesterfelt about self-identity and it asked a very important question: where do you get the words you
use to describe yourself from?
If you think about it, many of the words we use to describe
ourselves are words that others have
used to describe us. Words that have been spoken us, either positively or
negatively. For one reason or another, though many words spoken over me have
been words filled with love, sincerity, and thankfulness, I have always tended
to focus on the negative. You’re stupid. You’re a liar. You’re
annoying, weird, a little crazy. You're just plain not worthy of love.
And the strange part is that I'm sure more positive words
have been spoken over me more often than the negative ones above. Some of those
words were never even spoken by friends or family or any person in particular. They were just words that got stuck in my
brain by some other negative spirit force out there.* And yet for some
reason I have chosen to focus on them, rather than on all of the good things
people (and my Father) think about me. And so often I wonder why I let the few
bad things that have been said about me suddenly define everything I am. The negative spirit is winning.
Another one of my friends wrote this beautiful post about her body (it isn’t nearly as revealing as it sounds, but it sure is intimate).
One of her points includes choosing believing
what people say. Though that part of her “Bodies are Amazing” series has
yet to be written , I would imagine that she will talk about believing the
people who tell her that she is
beautiful, and that they love her curly hair, and that her body is a blessing
and not a curse.
My deal is not with my body. It is with my soul. With... well... ME.
I have trouble believing that who I am is beautiful; that I
should like my weird quirks instead of trying to be what somehow got defined as
“normal;” that who I am is a blessing and not a curse.
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| Photo via (rachelraedotme) |
But I am starting to
believe these things. I can’t always pinpoint on exactly how. Part of believing is
the wonderful help that comes in the form of good friends who speak beautiful words of truth about you. Allison
in her post above talks about the importance of finding good friends. Another
part of believing is that wonderful word called choice.
You can choose what to believe, what words spoken over you to accept as truth. I
can’t help but think of my best friend and one of her favourite phrases her mom
taught her to say, "I don’t accept that." And
you always say it a little indignant and with a little bit of rebellion. I don’t accept the negative words you
choose to speak over me. I don’t accept your judgement of my
inadequateness. And the things I do accept? All those wonderful words about me that have been poured out onto the pages of the greatest book ever written.
I choose to believe what my Father says and to love the soul that is me.
May you choose the same for you.
*The devil is his name and lying is his game, my friends.
