There is Space for You Here… and for Me, Too.

Maybe it’s just me. Maybe I’m making this up in my head, but I don’t think so. Something tells me this struggle is universal, and so I write it down and share it with you. Somebody’s gotta say it. And if you’re not ready for honesty about honest struggles, just close the page already.

I pull up to the church, driving up to our latest women’s event. I sit for a moment in my car and I breathe. I send myself mental affirmations: “you belong here” “you have a place” “people love you and want you to be here and to keep showing up” “God loves even THAT part of your life” “just because someone said something that hurt you doesn’t mean you quit coming” “you are beautiful.” I pray and I ask God to help me know I am a part, that I am accepted and loved as I am. I pray that I would believe what people keep saying: that they want me here and they want me to keep showing up. I recount every one of those truths to myself because the enemy states the opposite, the lie, over and over in my head. This is how I fight my battles. I take a deep breath and I walk in.

This is the point where, if you know me already, you possibly feel confused. If you know me then you know that I’m the leader of our women’s ministry. I had planned the whole event (the event I assumed others didn’t want me to be at — face palm)! This literally happened to me this past Saturday at our women’s event where, while driving there I wondered if everyone would just rather go without me. And God graciously let the red flags start flying in my head.

For over a year I have loudly proclaimed and believed the message that “there is space for you here!” But maybe I haven’t truly believed my own message because, through it all, through a year of welcoming well over 100 different women into Bible studies and book clubs and conferences and quarterly events, deep, deep in my soul, I still struggle to believe that I am wanted in this space. Not just wanted to lead this space, but wanted as a friend and comrade in the faith in this space. Deep in my soul I was sold a message from the enemy that there is space for part of me, but not all of me, that I am loved, but mainly just tolerated, that I am cared for as long as my “packaging” is suitable to others — the way I talk, express myself, manage my grief, and dress.

And so, I have intermittently found myself curating my own self. This is a futile quest to be accepted and one I cannot recommend. It is exhausting. And mostly it’s left me in the corner fretting about what people might think about me as I neglect the working out of my own spiritual gifts which is the neglect of ministry itself. Which is so unfair to this beautifully broken body that I call myself a part of, my church.

My social anxiety has been at an all time high for a solid year now. Enemy attacks soon after I took on the role of women’s ministry leader have done a number on me. One day recently, tho, it’s like my eyes opened and I realized that the enemy would love NOTHING more than for me to curate my own self into some graven image in the corner. Fueled by my own social anxiety (and a healthy desire to smack the enemy with a baseball bat), I began to examine my situation more fully and invited professional help into this situation alongside me.

First: There is space for YOU. If we believe this, truly believe this, we can do great things. This is the pocket from which we operate. There is space here for you. I have spiritual giftings made to care for you and you have spiritual giftings I want to help you use to care for others and for me. I don’t care what your background is, what your hobbies are, who you do or don’t get along with, how big your grief or pain or joys or anxieties are — bring your whole self and, thanks to Jesus, there is room for that here. I believe this. I truly, truly do.

This belief is the pocket from which we deal with social discord and disagreements. There is room for you both — all of both of you. Because of Jesus we can come to agreements and settle the odds and the differences. There is space for reconciliation here. This is the pocket from which we make decisions like how to live in obedience to God who knows best and there is space for accountability as you work through sin and shame. This belief fuels how we curate our words to avoid “mom wars” and “women wars” by ranking our worth by our life choices regarding work and home and kids and schools and all the things by which the world would like us to compare ourselves.

But then it hit me. If I actually, truly believe that there is room for you, ALL of you and all OF you, why don’t I bestow the same belief and grace towards myself? Why do I believe this so strongly for each woman walking in yet question it for myself? If I believe there is space for you then I must turn inward, grab the face of my inner childlike self and say, “there is space for me, too.” Because of Jesus, I am welcome here. Not tolerated — welcomed. There is space for me. Space for my joy and my pain. Space for my big personality and my gifts. Space for my sorrows and my laughter. Because of Jesus, there is space for you and there is space for me, too. Because of Jesus, we are part of one body and for one of us to refuse to play our part is like the hand trying to work without an elbow — it’s not the best way to get anything done.

Now I’m not saying that on the playground of adult life there won’t be bullies who make our inner child question this truth. I can’t promise that won’t happen. Actually, from my experience, if you dig in long enough it’s bound to happen. But that must not stop me from practicing the recitation of truth:

God loves me. My gifts are from Him to be used for His body in His way. There is space for me. There is space for you. There is space for your bigness and smallness. There is space for your joy and your sorrow. There is space for her uniqueness and her gifting. There is space for your service and your needs. There is space for us together even when we struggle to get along. There is space for others to join us in this thing we call ministry. There is space for me to lift you up because I know the One who lifts my own head. There is space for us to find our mutual enemy and fight him alongside one another instead of turning on ourselves. And there is space for you — quiet, excited, weary, lovely you — all of you. This is the body.