“Your story matters.” This persistent message from God has resonated several ways in the last eighteen months. I’ve toyed with its credibility, questioning why or how God could use little old me to serve in any way for His glory. In an act of obedience, I write my story to follow His call and see where it takes us.
I’ve come to view my life as a series of chapters: some of shame, others of redemption. My story is not complete. But, what’s already written is important to One in particular, mainly because He wrote it. My story is a struggle of worth, with much more to fill the pages, but ready for the world to hear the rough draft.
Chapter 1: The Deacon’s Daughter
I’ve written before about living my life as a chameleon. I grew up with standards, expectations, and enforced faith. This is not a bad thing. It means I had great parents. My dad was/is a deacon in the church; my mom overly educated and motivated in her career and community. They had two daughters who played every sport known to man, made straight A’s, and were expected to follow in their footsteps.
The secret: I internally struggled to fit in. I was a self-titled, closet book worm, but extroverted in public. I felt awkward, always trying hard to fill a certain mold in order to uphold those said expectations. I knew God, but was a stranger at the same time.
My worth flowed from school accomplishments, friendships, and achievements. I fought hard to “be the predictable.” Graduate with honors, go to church every Sunday, get a stable job, marry, have children, work that job until age sixty-five, and retire (in that order). I was the definition of a small town, “Deacon’s daughter.” No, my daddy wasn’t a preacher, but deacons’ daughters still came with plenty to uphold.
I thought if I stuck to that plan, all would fall into place, and I’d be happy with myself. There’s the key phrase: fight to “be happy with myself.”
What I didn’t expect was to feel a huge void despite any accomplishment or group of friends I obtained. No matter what I did, I felt as though I was dog paddling to deserve the blessings God bestowed. Like most teenagers, I made mistakes in the journey to figure myself out. However, I couldn’t just chalk them up to lessons learned. My missteps consumed my struggle to feel good enough.
With the outside eye, I had no reason to lack confidence or question my value. I’ve had a prime example of a strong woman in my mother, raised in a great, supportive community, and quite frankly, never lacked for anything. What in the world did I have to complain about? Nothing. But I still felt beneath what I was given.
Chapter 2: The Decline
I started college with the idea I’d reinvent myself. I attended the local university and immersed myself in the community: lived on campus, joined a sorority, played intramurals, the whole nine yards. I dated a few guys and had a group of friends I loved with all of my heart. But, the fight still raged to be a “better” version of myself for others to love.
The harder I tried to discover who I was, the more lost I felt. I changed with every boyfriend and did everything I could to define myself as a “one of the guys.” I submerged to fit into a certain perception in order to find happiness, and couldn’t sit in silence long enough to hear Him calling my name. But, He was… With every tear I cried as I struggled to feel like enough. With every morning I sat hung over from trying to fit in. With every time I gave away pieces of myself to become someone others would like more, I felt God tugging on my heart to just stop and steep in His comfort.
I’d look in the mirror and long to see a girl who knew who she was, what she wanted… to not feel the heavy weight which comes with running on the hamster wheel in a race to know who I’d be if I’d just stop trying so darn hard. I felt lost and broken, but couldn’t tell a soul. What did I have to complain about? Again, nothing. In the midst of my lonely quest, He waited for me to come running, and I never did.
Chapter 3: The Fall
I remember the feeling all too well. It was familiar, repetitive. I was dating someone post-graduation and found myself again, trying to be the girl he would like the most. I walked the talk, but only the lines I fed myself. After spending all of college not knowing one ounce of my true character (flaws and all), I had very little left in my tank. I’m know now, this was God’s opportunity to catch me when I finally exhausted from treading in the same spot. Same song, different verse.
The day came when I realized the person I tried so hard to be, inevitably wasn’t enough. Not only had I been trying desperately to be “the girl” and failed miserably at it, but he called me on it, too. I don’t know what felt worse: I didn’t know who I was or that someone else noticed. At the close of that “relationship,” I dropped my guard and entered a year of singleness.
Chapter 4: The Climb.
I moved to Atlanta. I started my dream job, which challenged(s) and pulled me in different directions. But, the bulk of what happened was an immense amount of time in solitude… and God. I was right where He wanted me. What happened was painful, but restorative at the same time. I had to face the music. I spent a lot of time with God that year, and I haven’t stopped since. I cried a lot, with shame over years of doing all the wrong things to form a true identity. I found out why. I tried to find my worth in all the wrong places: boyfriends, perceptions, activities, family. And each time I came up short, more and more disappointed with who I saw looking back at me.
A girl stared back with little hope in who she’d been, but now desperately searching Her creator for the next steps to take. Prayers echoed loudly: “Now what, God? I know I’ve searched in all the wrong places and all the wrong people. But what do YOU want?”
His answer has driven my life since: “You, sweet girl, I just want you.” The memory of the day is branded on my heart: sitting in my apartment, crying tears of joy, my back to the wall, and realized for years I’d tried so hard to give my life to other people.
And, there was Jesus. He had been patiently waiting all along to welcome me for all that I am and everything I’m not. What lie ahead would a mountain to climb, but felt certain God would be waiting at the top to spread me like ashes for something bigger.
Chapter 5: The Demise
Desperate to finally pursue who God wanted, I played with the idea of missions and service. In the midst of finding God’s purpose, there was Sam. My sweet Sam. We weren’t looking for each other. Actually, we tried to fight the idea of each other. Both enjoying time without another person, the last thing we wanted was a serious relationship. But it found us anyway. I knew something would be different with Sam, I just couldn’t put my finger on it.
As time passed, God’s intervention brought my fate. The man I loved was traveling on tour, and I struggled. His new adventure brought a rough year when I, again, found a lot of time to myself, and a lot of time for God to prepare me for what would come next.
In August we were engaged. Shocked, but excited, overjoyed, and thankful. Three months later, my entire world changed. Pregnant. I was pregnant and supposed to be married the same time my beautiful Griffin would arrive. The predictable deacon’s daughter was pregnant before getting married. I felt shame. I felt embarrassment. Not so much for me, but my family.
I thought God had brought me to a place of peace and a life of service in missions. And everything I “knew” was chunked out the window. “I’ve come this far, God.” Why? Why, now? The mountain of actual worth building crumbled beneath my swollen ankles and growing belly. I didn’t understand… Until Griffin came and a whole new battle of worth would begin.
Chapter 6: Your story Matters
The next year was a whirlwind: new baby, marriage, and a house in six months. There was this perfect little person who made sense of everything. Every failure as an individual, every struggle for purpose, every tear shed led up to that year. I was chosen as a mom of the most beautiful face who gives incomprehensible joy and laughter wherever he goes. Every failure brought me here. In the midst of joy, Sam followed also. The respect I have for God’s handiwork with giving me those two is immense and sacred.
This chapter has not come without a need for dependence on God. With the two biggest blessings, came that same familiar fight. The struggle for worth creeped back to steal my joy. Who was I? A mom? A wife? Both? What about who I was before? Did it matter? “Wait, God! What happened to missions? I know my purpose is here but, weren’t You supposed to use me for other things, too? Hold on, is this all I am now?”
Frantic to again, find Candace in the midst of motherhood, marriage, and career I longed for worth inside my home and out. I know being a mother and wife makes up a HUGE part of my heart. But, it can’t consume it. It shouldn’t be how I define who I am as a person… Furthermore, who I am in Christ.
I found myself sitting in a worship service for women only, hurting for time between just God and I. I longed for the silence I fought so hard against for a lifetime. When I gave myself to Jesus that night (open, tearful, joyful, but afraid I’d lost my identity for the hundredth time) He answered with three words I was supposed to hear my entire life: “Your story matters.”
That moment gave such clarity. “Your story.” Not the story of the ten different versions I tried to be. Not the story of the friend next to me. But mine… My fight to learn His daughter, His love, His creation was, is, and always will be enough. More than enough: for Jesus to love, for Jesus to pursue, bless, and nurture. I am a mom and wife. But, more importantly I am His. I was created with every struggle, every flaw, every growth so my story could be shared for His glory. It may not matter to everyone, but it matters to Jesus.
My worth does not come from mistakes I’ve made or successes with which I’ve been blessed. My value is amplified and extended to my child and husband, but does not come from them.
You see, this journey to feel like enough: worthy enough, successful enough, loving enough, used enough is about who I am in Christ. There will continue to be times when I feel lost. But, to be found by Him and loved back to the place where I’m so intertwined in His grace and mercy is all I need to fight to be.
So, there it is. My unfinished story. My story that matters. And so does your’s. Every chapter, every struggle and new beginning is important, necessary, and is capable of being used to reflect and share Gods love and patient pursuit of our hearts and lives. And when my story is finished, I’ll walk hand in hand with the One who wrote it and cherishes it so!
house of stain 