During a Skype chat with one of my best friends, I told her that I was still feeling stuck between who I thought I should be and who I actually am. In the seven and a half years that I’ve had God in my life, one of the greatest stresses has been personal conviction vs. jumping on the bandwaggon of whatever current social issue is making headlines at the moment. Deep down I always knew what my beliefs were, as well as how they shaped my personality and the way I viewed the world.
And then the whole notion of the Proverbs 31 woman started to sprout up, especially as of late. Engagement season is in full swing and every time I come across a congratulatory comment on Facebook or Twitter, that person was always referred to as a “Proverbs 31 woman.” I began to wonder if I had to become that kind of woman in order for God to bless me, particularly in regards to love and relationships. More so, was it even possible for me to do?
It’s not the actual passage that I take issue with; there’s a lot of truth to be found, and it can bring about beautiful and insightful discussion. What I don’t like is that it tends to be translated to, “this is how you should be and act within the church and with other Christians, otherwise you’re not a real woman of God.”
How does one reconcile living for and serving God, while also embracing their personality? Let’s face it, I’m not quiet, dainty, or proper. I’m a fighter, I’m loud at times, and I don’t always do what I’m told solely because of who is telling me to do it. I try to keep up with politics, but I don’t choose one side or the other; my opinions are based on what I feel in my heart, not one what a a large group of people say. And I could go on, but I think you get the idea.
I’m not a cookie cutter anything.
I went to a Zumba class for the first time last weekend, and it wasn’t always easy to keep up with the instructor. I got frustrated at times because I couldn’t move in the exact way that she and some of the other people around me were.
And then I remembered the night before; I went out with one of my friends and we were going back and forth between a couple establishments. Every time I got on the dance floor, I let it all go; I didn’t care how I moved, what I looked like to the people around me, and whether or not I was good at it. I just danced, and after it was over I felt like Beyonce after the Superbowl.
During that class, that’s when I decided that sometimes you just have to let go and quit worrying about what everyone else around you is doing. It’s OK if you get to a point where you have to start improvising and doing your own thing instead of following those around you
When it comes down to it, it’s not about trying to constantly change yourself; it’s about allowing yourself to be changed, in whatever way that may look like.
I’ve come to a place in my life where I don’t necessarily want to just focus on who I should be or what I should be doing. Lately, I feel the urge to love and to give love in whatever way God calls me to. And that involves opening my heart up completely, which I’m confident in and ready to do.
That’s not to say that choices and character aren’t important; but I’m realizing that love, and the ways that I put that love into action frequently influence my attitude and choices that I make in life.Once you learn how to appropriately give and receive love, especially from God, everything else falls into place
The fact is, it’s kind of useless to spend time constantly trying to figure out who you are; you’re constantly evolving over time, and the person you are at this moment probably won’t be the same in five to ten years. If you find that you can’t fit into a particular mold for whatever reason, that’s probably not the mold that you’re meant to fit into.
I’m tired, both physically and emotionally. I’m tired of wrecking my heart and mind over whether or not someone is going to give their stamp of approval, or assuring me that I’m living life the way I’m supposed to. From now on, it’s between me and God, and I’m going to rest in knowing that He loves me exactly for who I am, not for who I think I’m supposed to be.