I love the New Year.
There are few things in life I enjoy more than self-improvement. Perhaps I am a glutton for punishment, but a whole season devoted to developing new goals and habits makes me giddy with excitement. What part or parts of myself do I want to focus on this year? Should I run more? Or eat healthier? Or learn a new language? Or develop a new hobby? Or lose weight? Or plant a garden? Or drink more water? Or redecorate my house? Or all of the above?
As the old year has drawn to a close, I enjoy reflecting on the progress I made and the areas I want to improve upon in this new year.
But if I’m being honest with myself, underneath the possibilities and the excitement is the fundamental assumption: I should change because I’m not good enough as-is.
I am really, really good at changing myself. I wish I could be proud of that statement, but I’m not, because I know the motivation of my heart.
Many years ago, I had a friend tell me, “Natalie, one of the things I appreciate about you the most is that you never stop looking for a way to change for the better.” At the time I was incredibly flattered—someone noticed all my hard work! Over the years, however, I’ve begun to see the ugly truth about my motivations.
I was the friendless child. I was the little girl with a big heart and no social skills. I made an easy target for ridicule and rejection. And I hated it. I don’t know that there are words strong enough to express the kind of self-loathing and loneliness I felt.
But I had one secret weapon: I was a natural student of human behavior. I would ruthlessly assess my shortcomings and then systematically observe someone who was strong in that area or who demonstrated a skill I admired until I had mastered that skill as well. Were my clothes making me a target? I figured out fashion and trends. Was my vocabulary making me sound pretentious? I listened to my peers to pick up slang and idioms to sound more acceptable.
I viewed my life as a project. I believed if I could perfect myself, I would no longer be rejected. If I could erase the weaknesses and flaws, I would have friends.
And while I could quote all the right Bible verses about how much God loved me, and how He sent His son to die for me, sins and flaws and all, on a very deep subconscious level, I was incapable of believing that anyone could love me as-is – even God.
Change can be good, but when done out of fear, it becomes a trap.
I have been trapped in a cycle of self-perfection.
This year, God has asked me not to make resolutions that add to my life. I don’t need more habits, or disciplines, or hobbies. I don’t need more busyness.
What I need is more Jesus and less of the lies.
So this year I resolve to let go of my perfection, to let go of the comparison, to let go of the pretenses that I have built up to keep the real me safe from ridicule and rejection.
I’m cleaning house this year to make room for more Jesus.
Really well said, Natalie! Can’t wait for the rest of the series to be published!
Wow, such truth said so eloquently! What a gift you have for both speaking and writing, Susie (your moms friend) PS. . .I think the REAL Natalie is beautiful!!