I have spoken to several people this week who I think of as way smarter and more together than I am. And yet what they have expressed is an uncertainty that I was surprised to hear.
One of the most honest and prolific writers I know talked about their insecurity whether anyone cared about what they wrote. One of the most straight up, caring people I know described themselves as “hard hearted” and evil.
I, too, have been made to feel hard hearted, evil and I feel insecure every time I share on this blog. Whenever the minister says that we are all broken and yet all forgiven, I think to myself, “sure, everyone but me. I am too far gone.”
It was disheartening to know we all feel so insecure and badly about ourselves, but it also made me feel that maybe we aren’t all so bad. Maybe we are all different and yet all the same. Maybe we are all redeemable.
We see the foibles in each other and some of us are willing to be honest and really see them. We all feel less than sometimes, like when we are the oldest person in a certain setting or when we are put in the position to prove ourselves and we aren’t sure if we can.
We feel inadequate when presented with a new challenge and we long to be heard and understood. Overall, we all long for love and acceptance. Overall, we don’t feel worthy of either.
We all feel like impostors.
Maybe we need to give each other a break. Maybe we need to listen to each others’ hearts. Maybe we need to be honest about how we feel instead of making our Facebook posts look like we have it all together when we don’t.
Am I the only one who has doubts, who is unsure whether we talk too much, too little? Am I the only one who feels like God’s love is for every one but me? I am the only one who struggles to know the line between doubt and too much pride? Am I the only one out there willing to share my feelings?
After this week, I don’t think so. God bless us all.