As I spent time on social media, I began to feel a weight of expectations for my own life to match the life I was seeing of others. The more I strived to have the life I was seeing on social media, the less content I became and I began to question everything about myself. Finally, my husband called me out and I decided to fast social media and take my discontentment to the Gospel. Within a few days, I quickly realized that the content I was seeing seemed so scripted. Where was the authenticity? The more I prayed through my struggles, I felt the challenge to, in fact, live more "scripted", which brought me back to this blog I had created months prior. Except the “scripted” life I desire is one that is less scripted for likes and followers and more rooted in the Scripture—the Gospel, so that what I share with the world reflects the hope I profess, the grace I’m dependent on, and the glory of the Lord. As I prayed, I realized I wasn't the only person out there who desired this authenticity. I desire for this blog to be a safe place where others can come, just as they are, for genuine connection. I don't have it all together and I am tired of trying to. There is beauty in the simple, yet purpose-filled life. Grab a cup of coffee and stay a while. I pray that the Lord uses the words He gives me to encourage and give you hope along your path.
I spent the better part of the day looking at a view similar to this. We went from this mess, to the one in the living room, more times than I can count. She crawled all over the place and I repeated, “Whitleigh. No, no”. I washed dishes. She threw up morning bottle all over us, as it went down the wrong way—completely scared me. I addressed Christmas cards.
Then I stopped for a moment and looked up from loading the dishwasher. All of this is mine. All the dirt on the floor, the piled dishes, the baby who won’t take her paci out because new teeth are cutting in. All the mess is mine. Is it Pinterest worthy? Not in the least. It’s the life God so graciously led me to after running from him. After thinking I knew best. I thought I knew my dreams. In high school, my ambition was to get a degree, so I could get a fancy job and be able to buy all the fancy business clothes from the Victoria’s Secret catalog—I know, real concrete goals. So, I went to the University of Alabama with wrong intentions. Thus leading me to leaving the University of Alabama to come home to get a my cosmetology license. I married way to young, with no understanding of love, so that I prove everyone wrong only to end up 21 and divorced. After that was a sting of one poor decision after another until the day I met Jesus. Not halfway met him. Not scared from the sermon met him. Not I know all the right things to say and a couple scriptures out of context met him. But, new direction, new person, didn’t recognize myself in the mirror anymore met him. Then everything changed. He began to give me different dreams and take me down roads that I never saw myself traveling down. He gave me a man to love me and share Christmas Tree cakes with on our anniversary. He would use that love to teach me about prayer and waiting and grace. He gave me a desire for kids. He walked me through a miscarriage and allowed me to understand his goodness differently, then so graciously gave me our girl. He opened my heart to young people and burdened me to make a difference in their lives, to show them the love of Jesus by loving and supporting them. Then he walked me down a path to a degree so that I could. I have surrendered to the Lord and his plans, but I have also wrestled with him over his plans. I have been angry at him and ignored him and even yelled at him sometimes. He allows me to be broken, but he never leaves me that way. Knowing this truth doesn’t always mean I reach for it in tough seasons. Sometimes it’s as though I don’t know how to open my Bible, and even when I get it open, it’s as if the words don’t make sense. Because I’m seeing it through the lens of my feelings or circumstances or other people’s blessings compared to blessings I’m not receiving. I wallow in that. In my current season there’s anxiety and frustration and questions. But, he is big enough to handle it. He is big enough to handle my honesty in my feelings towards him and his ways. He is big enough to overcome it, if I’ll let the light in. It’s a process. Sometimes it feels like ripping off a bandaid, and dripping a little a little alcohol on that wound. And then, it starts to heal. I have no idea why I felt compelled to be this transparent. Other than lately I have been consumed with the desire to hide for one reason or another. I’ve been consumed with being worried about what others think and allowing their opinions of me to be my truth. The truth is I know who I am in Christ and that’s enough. That’s my truth. I am more than the sum of every single one of my mistakes. I am more than the enemy lies. I am more than cowering to manipulation. I am more than self hate. I am more than a discouraged heart. I am more than the past. I am more because of the work of the cross. I have been made confident in Christ. For whatever reason, the Lord laid these words on my heart and continued to move me to share. So here it is. Every raw word and truth on display in hopes that someone else finds hope.
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Hi! I'm Morgan.Follower of Christ. Grace dependent. Wife. Mama. Homebody. Archives
July 2020
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