Fitting In

Do you ever go somewhere, and run into someone you really admire, and wish for a moment you fit in with them?

This happens to me all the time. Most frequently, it happens at church. I try to remind myself we are all human, all sinners, sometimes I think about us all having dishes, or laundry to do. Yet, somehow these other women possess something I don’t have. I can’t identify it. I don’t have a name for it, but every time I see them, I see ‘it’ and I want ‘it’. I long to fit in with them. To feel like my routine, my parenting style, my homeschooling methods, and my home are good enough. Above all of my things, I want to feel like I fit in.

So what is ‘it’? I’m asking again tonight, after considering a series of these encounters. I walk away feeling like so much less than good enough and my heart hurts. And I want to hide, and not go back to the places where these people will see me. So, started asking myself if it’s something they are saying to me. No, I don’t think so. Is it something someone else told me they say about me? Nope, not that either.

Then I realized what it is, it is an attack from the very enemy of God, trying to severe me from the body of believers; trying desperately to cripple my relationships so that I can no longer be a helping hand, a lamp for the Lord. If I am crippled by this paralyzing sense that I don’t measure up, then I cannot team up with the ladies in my church to serve the community, and I cannot have lengthy conversations and lasting friendships with the people around me.

Realizing this is no miracle cure, let me tell you. I’m not sitting here thinking all of a sudden that I am an equal – I have many negative go-to scripts that play in my head, telling me that so & so bakes better than I, so & so does better crafts with her kids than I, so & so keeps up with the laundry, and absolutely none of them have a cupcake smashed across the carpet tonight – that’s just me, and instead of cleaning it up, I’m blogging.

But you know what? I’m going to get my vacuum and clean up that cupcake, and I’m going start fighting back. Every time I hear one of those sneaky thoughts that I don’t measure up, I am going to use it as a prompt to pray. I’m going to pray that God would help me remember the identity He gave me in Christ. I’m going to tell Satan to go away, and I’m going to remember that my boys aren’t the only cupcake smashers – they can’t be!

Do you struggle with fitting in? How do you over come such a lofty battle?