Painting Appoval

I cried a fountain of tears in worship yesterday as song after song spoke of God being THEE HIGHEST - the highest authority, the ultimate reason, One who is WORTHY of my heart and my thoughts and my worship. As I let the majestic praises of His people resound in my head and heart, I came face to face with my immaturity and neediness. Why in the face of a holy God would I base so much of my worth on the approval of others? Why do I need certain mere humans to give me praise when He, who has the ultimate authority, is the only one who has a heaven or a hell to put me in?

Becoming a mother was a bit shocking, for me at least. I always wanted children and had spent tons of time with kids, but for all of my want and experience, I started my mommyhood journey extremely insecure. I read books and took advice that just wasn’t ME, wasn’t Nico, and wasn’t Michael. So at every failed attempt to adapt to other people’s advice and parenting styles, I felt like a failure. Add in some post-partum depression and very little positive support and you have one. insecure. mother.

I wasn’t whole after I had Nico; not in the parenting sense at least. I’d been living in the tension of insecurity and allowed waves of self-doubt and tremendous fear to bleed my natural instincts as mother. For someone who has been a strong and self-assured, confident woman – the self-doubt in this area came like a thief in the night. The people I wanted the most approval and encouragement from, ended up somehow being the most negative. Those I planned to count on the most just didn’t pan out.

In the ashes and absence of positive, soul-giving support, God in all of His knowledge and grace gave me beautiful “fillers,” friends and neighbors to walk though these hard, early-parenting years with. These mothers have been refreshing and positive; affirming. Like earth and air, teaching me to trust myself – just by affirming my choices and my children. They gave and are still giving me permission to paint motherhood with my own colors; not the colors of my family and history or even in the shades of expectation.

But even in the blessing of these wonderful friends, I’ve craved more. Do we ever really outgrow our need for parental approval? Probably not. But I realize more and more, that marriage and babies should separate you, even further at times, than you would expect or even want. At some point, it’s vital to look at your spouse and determine, to do it your own way. At all costs. To carve out a path that is the best for how you feel called to live and love and grow as a nuclear family.

We don’t stand before God one day accountable for anybody but ourselves. With that eternal mindset, like the one I felt washed in on Sunday, I realize this simple truth: God’s approval is the only one that matters. Living life in the darkened shadow of how everyone else lives, under the choices of others, painting a picture in used-up shades of brown is just, ugly. This isn’t what I was created for…to live reacting to every critical comment, to be tossed back and forth by every opposing parenting style, to look for approval from people I’m not convinced I even want to even emulate anyway. I wasn’t born to color in lines carved out by others so why would I raise my children trying to do so?

Under the cross of Christ, I am free. Poured out and open, living to please and paint for One.

I was challenged Sunday to get my eyes off of everybody else and put them back on God. To live like Jesus is to live for the approval of The Father. In that emulation of God, no comment or question or opinion or idea can steal my joy, question my capabilities, undermine my authority or disrespect my style. Jesus was compassionate but He was also courageous because He knew He was living right, with the approval of Abba. If I’m going to set boundaries with the disapproving and die on a hill defending any choice, I want to make damn sure it’s a choice I believe in, in submission to Christ. Rejection matters less when I have assurance that I am walking, painting, living, and loving like the Savior modeled and called me to live. This is what the cross ensures; that when I stand in its shadow I can paint in the palette of freedom, covered in acceptance, love and approval.

Today I begin to paint for an audience of One.