The things we tell ourselves

The book Little Men by Louisa May Alcott follows the story of Jo, one of the sisters from Little Women. She and her husband, Father Baehr, have a school for mostly wayward or fatherless boys. In the book, there’s a part where Nat, one of the boys, gets in trouble for lying. He thinks that Father Baehr is going to strike him with the ruler as punishment for his transgression, but instead Father Baehr makes the boy strike him instead. He found a consequence which turned out to be far more painful for Nat, because of the pain of hurting his beloved mentor and friend. The boy learns far more from the lesson than he would have if he had been the one being struck.

I had a conversation the other night with one of my own beloved mentors and friends. We were talking about the difficulties that I have in feeling like I have value to God for who I am rather than just in what I do; the difficulty that I often have just in admitting my value at all. She went on to say that she too sometimes has difficulty owning her part of the good that God has done through her, and named one specific thing. I immediately said, of course, you played a part in that. Because I have no doubt she did. She’s awesome and I know she had a very large part in the good that God had done. Her response was as immediate as mine as she asked me why I had no difficulty seeing her value but didn’t see my own. And then, as did Father Baehr, she turned the situation around on me. She told me to tell her how she had no part in the work that God had done, as I had been doing with myself. My resistance was immediate. No, I won’t. She insisted. To which I said, we’re not talking about you, we’re talking about me. Her response was no, we’re talking about me now. Tell me. I’m pretty sure I cursed her then. I was so mad at her for turning things on me and trying to make me say things that would hurt both her and me. Not because they were about my lack of value, but about hers. I could no more do that than I could have hit her.

Because it would have been a lie. A hurtful lie. And yet I tell myself those things every day.

Every. Single Day.

I’m keeping an “I am” list now. As a way of making myself notice the good things about myself. As a way of admitting to myself, even when I don’t want to, that I have value. To God. And to others. And that God isn’t just using me because there wasn’t anybody else around to do the job, but because God wants me to do the job. Because there is value that I can bring to it. Not just by the things I do, but because of who I am. Because I am precious to God, and cherished by God. Whether I am able to see that truth yet or not.

My friends, if you are speaking lies to yourself today, as I do, it’s time to stop. If the things you say to yourself, you would never say to someone you care about, then please stop saying them to yourself. They are lies.  Hurtful lies. You have value. In who you are, not just in what you do.

You are a precious and cherished child of God. No matter what you tell yourself to the contrary. I know that’s hard to accept.  I know. But I’m trying to accept that for myself. Try to accept it for yourself.

You deserve it.

As do I.

Talk to yourself like you would to someone you love.

I’ll try if you will. 

Won’t you join me on the journey?