A Personal Reflection on my book - insecurity, fear, and perhaps a bit of hope.

           My book came out.  You can buy it on Amazon. You can buy it from the publisher, Parson's Porch.  You can buy it directly from me.

         But this post is not actually a sale's pitch.  This is a more personal reflection on how hard it has been for me to step forward into this.  

         David Tullock from Parson's Porch Publishing found me through my blog and has been asking me to send him my stuff for publishing for about 4 years.  FOUR YEARS!  And every time he would send me an email, I would respond with "Oh yes!  I am interested!" but I could never move beyond that.  All I needed to do was to put the blog posts into a document.  This shouldn't have been hard.  I'd already done the writing.  I'd already done quite a bit of editing.  I'd actually already saved all of the blog posts in several documents (one for each year) because I'm just enough of a Luddite to not completely trust the internet to actually save my stuff for the duration.  So I had also saved them all already.  It was just a matter of doing some minor editing, pasting together several year's worth of posts and sending them off.  But I couldn't do it.  

         I'd think about it.  I'd talk to other people about it, all of whom would just look at me with puzzlement... I mean, why wouldn't I do this?  I didn't even have to FIND a publisher: I had one coming to ME!  I didn't have to worry about submitting and resubmitting and facing rejections.  I didn't have to try to figure out self-publishing.  I didn't have to ask for help.  Why on earth would I not do this? 

        Well, I'm busy.  I have kids.  I'm working full time.  I am still writing and that feels more important.  I have other projects.  My book about what our family went through should really take priority over blog posts.  I...

       I was full of excuses.  And none of them were true.  I had written a dissertation while working and having kids.  I had finished a doctoral program while working and raising kids.  I have experienced times when all I could dedicate was ten minutes a day to a project, but I know how to find that ten minutes in each day and I've done this before.  The most honest answer I could give to people was "I don't know why.  I just... can't."

       Marianne Williamson is quoted as saying,  “Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be?  You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you.  We are all meant to shine, as children do.  We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone and as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give others permission to do the same.  As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."  Was I afraid of success?  

       No, that didn't feel right.  It's not success that scares me.  It's being noticed at all.  And it's not being noticed in a good way, though perhaps that scares me too.  I worry more about being noticed and found lacking.  I fear being noticed and deemed "not good enough".  I am anxious about being seen and judged.  I worry some will feel I am "too big for my britches" and that I shouldn't think my book is worth reading.  I worry about being found to be a fake - someone who just plays at writing, pretends at ministry, acts as a person striving to follow Christ but somehow never quite makes it.  I am terrified of the haters and their ability to make me feel small, unvalued and unvaluable.  This is so much a problem for me that when my books showed up in the mail, instead of feeling happy or proud, I experienced a panic attack that made it hard to breathe.  My husband and children were thrilled for me.  A good friend offered to cater a book signing party for me.  Several people have spoken up at groups I'm in to proudly share the news of my book.  And, while I have been grateful for their care and their love, that wasn't the predominant feeling.  Each and every time someone shared about my book, I felt mostly embarrassment... or maybe even shame.  I wanted to crawl into a hole, run away, pretend it hadn't happened.  I wanted to "take it back" and tell the publisher I had made a mistake.  I had more panic attacks, and I wanted to apologize to everyone for wasting their time and money.

         Jesuit Priest Gregory Boyle wrote in his book, Tattoos on the Heart (New York: Free Press, 2010) that the prime issue of addicts or gang members or those who are extremely poor (or anyone living out their fear) is shame.  He says that while God finds us wholly acceptable, this is incredibly hard for those who have faced terror, violence or deep betrayal to accept.  He says that shame is the absence of self-love.  But, "it is precisely within the contour of one's shame that one is summoned to wholeness." (p44).  

        Isaiah 43:1 "I have called you by your name.  You are mine."  And, as Boyle said, "Out of the wreck of our disfigured, misshapen selves, so darkened by shame and disgrace, indeed the Lord comes to us disguised as ourselves." (p60).  This is not easy for me.  But I am stepping into the hope that maybe, just maybe, it is true for me, too, that God loves me beyond measure, as I so deeply believe it is true for all of those around me.  

        So for today, I will do my best to step out of the shame and into the wholeness of God's love.  For today, no matter what I experience or what others say or do, I will strive to embody the grace of a God who believes that all of us are, in fact, too small for our britches: we are loved beyond imagining, we are worth all that is.  And that means there are times when it is okay to step into our successes, and to celebrate the things we have done and the people that we are.  I hope you will consider buying my book.  And I will try to embrace the care it shows me when you do.