Sometimes I think that I am too much for people.
I am messy and loud. I am not always put-together or perfectly coiffed. I love my life, and sometimes I dance through that life with a little too much gusto. I feel a bit like someone who loves to dance but gets so excited that she accidentally steps on people’s toes. I have a loud laugh, loud clothes, loud glasses, and loud opinions. My happiness is loud. For anyone who has known me for long, you know that I have always been this way.
On the opposite end of the spectrum, I am also loud in my sadness. I think if it were still culturally acceptable and meaningful, I would walk around in sackcloth and ashes during my down times, because I feel loss deeply and fully. Even in every day life, I cry easily. I feel the weight of the world when I read the news. I weep for my friends and for myself when enduring hardship. I lose my temper with my kids. I combat exhaustion and loneliness which seem to be commensurate with this season with little ones.
Overall, there is a balance of happy and sad seasons in my life. I typically don’t find the sad times to be debilitating, and I still function normally and relatively responsibly during the glad ones.
I have often felt, however, that I can be a lot to handle or that people don’t know what to do with me. This may not even be a true statement, but I do feel the weight of that fear. As a reality, it may not ring true, but as a feeling, it is my experience.
My emotions are deep and full, and so are my opinions. There was a season of life when I tried to hush and quell some of these more extreme sides of my personality. I tried to be neat and more perfect. I tried to be more demure, more pleasing, and less trouble. Because sometimes that over-the-top person was kind of inconvenient. Crying at the drop of a hat can be such a pain and so embarrassing. Running happily and care-free through life can lead to misunderstandings with loved ones.
Over a year ago, I turned 30. I look around today and marvel that I have three kids chock full of my passion and qualities, good and bad. Thankfully, I married a man who loves the large nature of my personality. He loves me even when he doesn’t understand me, and he has loved and encouraged me well through a lot of self doubt and struggle. Much of the same can be said for other beloved friends and family in my life. They know my imperfections, yet they don’t seem to mind.
Blogging has been hard lately, you guys. I’ve started some entries. I’ve gotten stuck. I’ve been plagued with a fair amount of self doubt and questioning. Today was the day I decided to share some of these feelings.
Most of all, I’ve reached a point in life where I feel I’m returning to a truer, if perhaps more intense, version of myself. And the journey is itchy and hard and and imperfect, but the sacred and secular are colliding here in a big way. I am by no means complete. Some days I don’t know which end is up. I’m reading and praying and searching and processing. I am failing daily and trying again, running wild and happy and free one day and feeling insecure the next. But I do rest securely in the knowledge that the God of the universe did not err when he created even me: that loud, passionate, big, and imperfect human named Sarah. He calls me child. He calls me beloved, cherished, and redeemed. And, my friends, that is enough for me today. That unshakeable identity is enough for every day of my life. May I suggest that this identity is enough for each of us, each and every day? And may He continue to work those blessed truths down into the soil of my tender heart, that I would never doubt how absolutely loved and accepted I am in His sight.
Thanks for reading. May the secular and the sacred continue to collide in beautiful and unexpected ways for all of us, every single day.