Accusation and checking out

Sometimes other people in our life can see things more clearly than we can see about ourselves. Such was the case the other night in a conversation with my amazingly patient husband. I came home from my STEPS group on Sunday night incredibly encouraged. I felt I had a couple breakthroughs in my journey, and was convinced that if these were not THE keys to my issues, they were at least a big part of it. I was excited to share with Jeff the nuggets of truth that had formed in my mind and heart - like the morning dew on a blade of grass. Without taking an hour to write and for you to read, the basics of the "A-ha" for me were these:

1. John 10:10 "The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy, but I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full." I realized that I truly am in a spiritual battle, God wanting my best, and Satan wanting my destruction. So when I'm wrestling with compulsive behaviors - to obey God is for my good, and to follow my own selfish desires is to give in to the temptation that brings only loss, death and destruction. Wow! That was a new perspective on some of my willful - "I know I shouldn't be doing this right now, but I want to, so I'm going to do it anyway" - behaviors.

2. A big piece of the life-long picture for me is a sense of striving for approval, facing rejection, finding some success, but in the end feeling I'm not quite good enough. Sunday night an idea finally came clear in my mind that has been bouncing around for weeks. If the root of my emotional struggles is because I'm afraid I'm not "enough", then it is a fear based on a false expectation of being something I was never created to be - perfect. In other words, I'm striving to be perfect, but I'm not - obviously - and so I feel deficient, like a failure, and I'm hiding from my disappointment in myself - afraid that others are terribly disappointed with me too.

As Jeff and I talked about these two things - and more - the conversation took a turn I hadn't anticipated. It has to do with the way I just "check out" when I get overwhelmed. It's most obvious at meal times. If I don't have a good plan going into 4:00, the dinner hour is incredibly stressful for me. Many times, Jeff will come home at 5:30 to find nothing done for dinner. I have just checked out. Perhaps I've cleaned the dining room and set the table - but I have totally neglected the food aspect of eating. Then when he arrives home I feel incredibly guilty and I run around all agitated and throw something together - burning so much emotional and physical energy to feed the family that I'm spent for the rest of the night.

As I explained to Jeff how I feel about dinner, and the kitchen, and messes around the house, I was describing the negative self-talk that goes on in my brain. If I walk into the kitchen and see a pile of dishes I don't say to myself, "Oh, the dishes need to be done." I think, "Oh, there it is again, the huge pile of dishes. I just can't seem to get it together. I never get it done. It's just so much work and I'm so tired. But if I don't get it done Jeff will be disappointed with me when I get home. . . ." and on, and on, it goes. I've realized that there is something like that in every room of the house. In the boys room I need to organize clutter, throw out junk, and help them get a place for everything. In Abby's room we need to finish moving furniture in, clean up the toys and give everything it's place. In the living room I need to finish the scrapbook project I told Grampa I would do. In the laundry room there are always clothes and towels to fold and put away. . . .

And that's when Jeff said the words that have the potential to set me free. He said, "If you face that much accusation it's no wonder that you check out." I had never seen it that clearly, nor named it so well. In the face of self-condemnation - the accusation of the enemy of my soul - I avoid the places of pain. If I walk into a room and the work that needs to be done immediately speaks to my soul that I'm not enough and not doing a good enough job, then I walk out of the room and leave the job undone. I check out to get away from the accusation.

And once I check out - I don't make good choices about when to check back in. Thus what I've been calling compulsive behaviors. I spend an hour on the computer when dinner needs to be made, my kids would like me to play with them, and there are dishes and laundry up to my armpits - all because the computer does not accuse me of not being enough. Of course - when I come back from my little foray into never-never-land, I feel guilty about wasting an hour when there was so much to be done, but in the middle, it's my place of numbness, of not being accused.

And speaking of numbness, I think I've had an "A-ha" about my late nights as well. One of the problems I'm seeking breakthrough in is my habit of staying up much too late. Just this week I realized that when I stay up past mid-night, in essence what I'm doing is checking out for the next day. I can't do the next 24 or 48 hours very well on 5 hours of sleep - - so I subconciously sabotage my tomorrows by checking out today.

The dances I do to avoid pain and accusation are phenomenally intricate, and the results are the symptoms I've been blogging about for a month now - tiredness, depression, not knowing how to rest, being too busy, avoiding my responsibilities, wasting my time on compulsive silly things. . . and the list goes on.

I believe that Jeff's name for the problem is accurate - it's accusation. And as such, it's part of the spiritual battle described in Ephesians. I've been listening to the lies of the enemy about who I am. Have you? Do any of you feel like me, that your day-to-day existence is far less than what you want it to be? Have you felt like you're failing?

When I realized that the name for my shame is perfectionism, I asked God what He would have me replace it with. Renounce the perfectionism and replace it with _________? What? And the word that came gently to my soul, a word of truth, was "beloved."

"Jennifer, I have not called you to be perfect, I call you my beloved."