Panic at the disco

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I have a serious need to please. No. really. It’s somewhat crippling. Have I already told you this?  Well it’s true. It’s problematic, and sometimes it saves my tushy.

Now there’s a difference between my ridiculous need to please, and the desire to do a good job. To do your best.  The desire to give it your all is a good thing. My need to please is not. Because of it I am easily manipulated, easily crushed, easily broken.  Because some people refuse to be happy with anything, I can end up bent over something I really had no control over. I lose sleep and my lunch over things that were not in my control. I’m working on it. Bear with me.

When I was boxing it turned out to be a great thing. My overwhelming need to please my coach is the single most reason I won my bouts. I was a fantastic boxer when it came to pushing myself and the time I put in on the heavy bag and on the focus pads, but I was a horrible boxer in the sparring ring! I mean wretched!! I can’t hit my team mates, can’t do it with any conviction… I love them , I cheer for them, I cannot hit them. And so it has never surprised me that my coach had little to no confidence in my abilities before my first match ever. She ( my opponent) was awesome. Seven undefeated fights to my none, a south paw ( I’d never even sparred a south paw) she was focused well coached and ready. I was trembling, unprepared and scrambling. My coach said to me right before I climbed in the ring ” you can’t win, so just go in there and have some fun”

And there it was. His assertion that there was no way I could please him was the button he needed to push. Maybe he wasn’t being mean, maybe he was brilliant.. whatever it was it worked. I ended her unbeaten streak that day and began my own.

When it comes to work I have a driving need for my boss to like me. Not just be happy with my work, but approve of me as a person.  It makes me somewhat neurotic. If I get sick… and let’s face it, the leukaemia really ruined my shots at a ” perfect attendance ” record award…. I feel a desperate need to mask and avoid until I have no other option. Because I don’t want to let her down, let the team down, fail.

When it comes to relationships, I’ve given up. Full stop. I cannot seem to win that fight no matter how hard I try. The thought alone makes me break out into a sweat. There’s only pain on the other side of that coin. I steer clear.

When it comes to Thaniel. Oh Lord, when it comes to Thaniel, (all of my children really, )I NEED to do it right. I don’t micro manage their days, because that isn’t right. But I fall apart when they make mistakes. I over think and over worry and over guilt like the worlds best Jewish mommy. When Thaniel is sick, I take copious notes, research until I feel I deserve an honourary medical degree. I consult with anyone who has said medical degree and will give me the time of day, and I beg God for wisdom. And I cry. A lot.

My point?

Galatians 1:10 says,  ” For am I now seeking the approval of man, or of God? Or am I trying to please man?  If I were still trying to please man, I would not be a servant of Christ.”

and then in later in Galatians 2:20 it says ” I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me”

And finally in Isaiah 64:6 it says ” All of us have become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags..”

There is way too much in those verses to blog on, but this is my blonde impression.  The only real approval I need to seek is Gods, and the word says He loved me and gave Himself for me already. It’s not me, it’s Him. It’s not ME it’s HIM.

When I seek the approval of man, I am negating the acceptance God already stamped me with. I’m saying, ” God, your love is great and all, but I just need one more opinion”   When I work to gain that approval in my own power I’m saying there’s something in me that deserves the applause, and finally when I break down because I feel I didn’t make the mark or someone didn’t give me a medal, I’m placing the flesh back in a place of importance and denying the life of Christ.

None of those things are good, in fact, for a real need to pleaser I’m not doing such a bang up job pleasing Jesus am I?

Thankfully God made me and gets me, thankfully He’s patient with me, thankfully He is made perfect in my weakness. ( Thankfully my boss doesn’t read this blog!)

Now if only I can follow my own words-

 

WHAT IF.

What if someone held me close? Would I break? Would I snap? What if the words were tender and sweet? Would I fall? Would I Crack? And what if somebody wanted to know; who I was, what I think, how I see? What if they looked until all that they saw; was my soul, was my self, only me? And what if they loved me? What if they said it? What if they felt it, believed it and meant it? And what if I sensed it? What if it covered us? What if like rain or like skin it became us? And what if instead of the fear and the fight, what if it felt like a lyric sung right? And what if I gave up, gave in, gave him. What if instead of a closed door , I said come in? What if I didn’t think nothings forever, but instead you held me like we were really together? What if for once the odds fell in my favour, what if for once my heart wasnt in danger?  What if?

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