“I really thought these pants had pockets…”

I said that to myself while patting down my hips one morning this week. 

The surprise I felt at my lack of pockets lasted only momentarily.  Because right away, an even bigger surprise replaced it:  The realization that, for the past hour-and-a-half or so, I had been wearing my pants inside out. 

(Maybe someday I’ll remember:  These days, when I get dressed:  GLASSES should go on first…)

Thankfully, I hadn’t left the house wearing inside-out-britches, but I’d reached for pockets to stash my essentials preparing to. 

I had spent the inside-out time hustling around trying to take care of some things in the house:  Putting away everyone’s laundry; cleaning up everyone’s messes…  trying to cultivate an environment that might somehow help me feel less overwhelmed than I currently felt.   

Sometimes I hit points in life where I feel like the walls are closing in on me.  Like every closed door hides a mess.  Even if I can’t see it, I still know it’s there. 

I know that summertime makes me especially vulnerable to that pitfall.  It’s a challenge to do all that we do outside and still keep up with the inside. 

I look back on this particular morning now, and – honestly – the way I had felt the whole week leading up to it, and I recognize a metaphor:  That sense of overwhelm didn’t only apply to the state of the place where I live.  It also applied to ME, in general:  I’m doing my best to take care of the outside, but the inside has seen better days…

I keep feeling like I just need a break, but I can’t explain exactly why I feel that way.    

Another nugget of honesty?

That morning, I felt so generally dejected that although I had written each day, I pretty much decided I should not publish anything this week. 

“Who am I to think I can say anything to help anyone - when I can’t even figure out how to help myself?”

Who would have thought that inside-out pants would make me rethink that? 

From the very beginning, my decision to create this place stemmed from my conviction that honesty about Real Life matters. 

Especially in this world where, if we want to see curated highlight reels of everyone’s best moments, we have plenty of other places we can look.    

It strikes me as so ironic that although technology and access to countless such platforms should make us feel more “connected” than ever before, I think it often does the opposite.  I think we end up more starved than ever for meaningful conversation and true connection:  The kind that comes from really knowing other people; from seeing others live Real Lives that look like we know our own look:   Including not only the good stuff that makes our highlight reels, but also the bad stuff, and all the very average stuff in between.    

I think when we lose sight of that, it can become alarmingly easy to “compare and despair”, as the beautifully gifted Emily P. Freeman puts it. 

I believe God supplies exactly what we need in our lives, exactly when we need it.  In yet another stunning validation of that belief, I hit play on Emily’s podcast, “The Next Right Thing,” in the midst of my funk this week and felt like I heard her speaking directly to me. 

If you feel overwhelmed by anything right now, or “off,” but you don’t know why:  Please, please invest 17-minutes, and listen to it. 

If you feel wonderful about everything right now (and I hope you do), please just mentally note that you saw this, and come back to it if you do encounter a day when you could use a little help. 

I experience such a feeling of loneliness when I feel “off” but cannot exactly name why. 

That lonely feeling?  I’ve positioned myself for that.   

Please allow me to explain: 

For as long as I can remember, I have made a point of being someone to whom others turn when they need help. 

I probably give the (false) impression that I have it all together. Or, at the very least, that I have enough faith, or positive attitude, or whatever people think I use to roll through all of life’s problems unscathed. 

I completely understand why people – even those closest to me – often don’t even think about the fact that maybe I could also stand to hear someone ask, “How are you?”  …And to know that they really care about the answer. 

Truthfully, though, I know that those closest to me don’t even have to ask.  When I am not OK, I know it shows.  In a way that not only doesn’t leave much doubt – but also probably scares the hell out of them.    

Even though I recognize and, for the most part, understand this, it doesn’t make the lonely feeling any less real. 

Sometimes, it leads me to attend my own little pity party:

“How can I constantly try to do everything I can for everyone else, yet have nobody who even notices when I do not feel OK?” 

I allow myself to do that sometimes, but I always know better.

I know my people really do love me.  They just don’t know how to help me, because I have worked so hard at never seeming to need anyone’s help. 

More importantly, I also know that when I seek validation or true solace from anyone other than God, I set myself up for disappointment.  Only He can truly provide that.  He is always there for me, and He wants to hear how I feel.  Even when I don’t choose to remember it. 

Another thing I know? As much as I need to keep the whole “compare and despair” situation out of my life, I also I need to take good, life-giving stuff in.*  Every day.  Even – or maybe especially – on the days when everything feels good.  What I do on the “good” days, makes a huge difference in how I handle the “bad” days, even if I can’t always see it in the moment.

Interestingly, on the day before the pants episode, one of the good things I had taken in involved a conversation about listening for how God speaks to us.  I took away that, when we want to know what God has for us in an experience or a moment; what good thing He is doing through our present circumstances – we really can just ask Him.  Then that we should pay close attention because He will let us know. 

So, that next morning, as I hustled about my house feeling overwhelmed, lonely, frustrated, and a little hopeless – I remembered that, and I asked Him. 

I know the fact that I had explains exactly why the inside-out pants made me freeze in my tracks. 

It confirmed that I really was the mess I felt like that morning, and it made me chuckle – even if in a “laugh to keep from crying,” kind of way. 

It did something else, too, though…

It has become kind of like muscle memory that, when those things happen to me, I instantly think of sharing them. 

It feels to me like the world – or at least my little community within it – craves the relatability that comes with knowing we all struggle sometimes. 

I guess that’s when I knew I needed to write this week – for that reason alone. 

It often takes me days to write whatever I publish on Friday.  That day, though, feeling I had to get my thoughts – as they came to me - into words, I dropped everything else, sat down with my laptop, and pounded out the bones of this within about 30-minutes.  I didn’t have to think about what to say.  It just spilled out.  In fact, I got up and walked away four times, intending to get on with the rest of my day.  Only to get that “and another thing” feeling, turn around, and sit back down with more words to say. 

Because those words were meant to help YOU this week? 

Or because saying them was meant to help ME? 

I might never know. 

But I do know that when I feel so strongly that God has given me words to say, I need to obey and say them.  Even when it means admitting some not-very-pretty things about myself.

I still don’t know exactly why I feel so “off” this week, but I do think Emily’s podcast has given me some things to think about.  (Especially the part about “being overly responsible for outcomes”.)

Maybe I do need a break of some sort. 

If I disappear and fail to show up here according to “schedule” one day soon, just know I might have decided to take one. 

Unless:  God gives me words I know I need to say.  Even if He uses inside-out pants to do it. 

To close this loop for today, let’s go back to that question that almost made me skip publishing this week: “Who am I to think…?” 

I can answer that now: 

I, on my own, am nobody. 

But equipped with whatever words God puts on my heart to say? 

Then I have something I need to offer everybody. 

One last fun fact?  Those pants never did have pockets in the first place. 

 

*If you would like to know more about some of the good, life-giving stuff I regularly take in, please just ask.  It would make me so happy to share some of my favorite resources with you.