Name It And Claim It

I feel like I've been instantly transported to a little rubber life raft in the middle of the ocean when I start to even think how I should write my heart.  The current carries me into deeper and deeper water, away from the safety of the shallows and soft, warm sand of the beach. 

Vulnerability--that revealing of the most secret parts of us--is never comfortable. 

Once I begin and find my voice, if I actually use it, will the sky fall on me? A very old tape starts to play in my head; the one that says, You're so loud--sit down and be quiet. And then the one that plays, Nobody likes to hear icky stuff. Keep it happy. Do you want to drive everybody away?

It wasn't always like this. Back when I was secure in the money in my bank account, when I finally owned a car with my name on the title, when I was reveling in my successful transition to Happily Independent Woman, when I was a size 4 and confidently walked down the street, when I was a busy print model and a QA consultant who traveled to my clients to audit their experimental data and write technical documents, when I was fit, athletic, weight trained, rode horses--even began learning to play polo…

…when I believed I had manifested all these wonderful things just by claiming them, I had plenty of confidence in myself. Or so that was my story, and I was sticking to it.

Oh yes, I was firmly entrenched in The Secret, vision boards, and belief that abundant life meant all these things and more; the time and the means to do exactly as I pleased. I was going to go through my life healthy and strong, even as I moved through the stage of life that undoes many women--empty nest syndrome and menopause. I listened to Hay House Radio every day, bought books on manifesting, called on angels and God to do my bidding. 

I wanted to use my abundance for good, so what could possibly be wrong with it? I could certainly glorify God with all His gifts to me, and I wanted to give back. I had the promise from Jesus Himself of abundant life, and I was a child of the Creator of the Universe, so I could be and do anything I chose. He wanted this for me, after all.

Me me me. 

I was my own idol. Yes, I said IDOL. God let me travel this path of pursuit of happiness in earthly things for a time, in His infinite grace and mercy. 

And then, also in His infinite grace, mercy, and love for me, He began to show me Truth.