She came up to me after I was done speaking to the group of women that had gathered at Prism :: Overcome. She spoke encouragement and life over me.

Then she referenced my talk–the bit where I had expressed some of my darkest fears–the fears that have, at times, dictated how I behaved and what I believed about the Lord. I had confessed to the women there that I believed from time to time that while God had absolutely wonderful, bountiful gifts for everyone else, I wasn’t sure if He had the same for me. Did God really love me with the same unending, focused, impenetrable love as everyone else?

As I listened to this woman and heard the warmth of her heart and saw her genuineness spill out before me, she leaned forward and made a confession of her own:

“I would never have guessed that you struggle with that…but, women assume the same thing about me too.”

And there it was–the real truth of it all–floating overhead waiting to be pulled down, dissected, and revealed.

Because I know her and she knows me.

We are the women that others assume are “just fine.” Because I do my hair and makeup and I wear clothes that make me feel good and my kids are homeschooled and moderately well-behaved. Because my marriage is great and we just took a vacation.

Because I don’t have any obvious signs of outward damage. I’m not weeping in a corner or sharing every piece of my sad, painful story. I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve…

But that doesn’t mean it isn’t broken…

Because a home, and clothing, a marriage, and children–none of those things are the guarantee of an easy life or a life free from pain. Quite the opposite.

Because no one–no one–has it all together. We are all breaking inside day by day, yet being transformed into the image of Jesus. Glory unto glory.

So, to the woman that others assume has “it all together,” I see you. I see that behind a smile there is sometimes pain. I see that along with activity and busyness there is also loneliness. I see that with each joy you celebrate, you have suffered a deep loss.

Other women, and sometimes the church, fail to see us. We are pushed to the periphery and we are called “leaders,” when very often we are crying out to simply sit in the circle and be held and comforted.

In the church, the squeaky wheel very often gets the greases and those who are quietly enduring are left to forge ahead alone. But more than me, Jesus sees you. He knows your desire to be known. He knows your inner being. He sees it all.

 

And He reminds you that you do not need to have it all together. He does, and He does. You can simply crawl upon His lap and be. He won’t judge you if your hair is perfectly curled or your house is immaculately clean. He knows why and He loves you evermore.