"On Growing Up"
"Rivers know this: there is no hurry. We shall get there some day."
- A.A Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh
As a kid, I remember impatiently beckoning time to speed up. The summer after 5th grade, I urgently shopped for locker accessories and counted down the days until I walked the hallowed halls of middle school. The summer after 8th grade, I finally got my braces taken off, and I even caught the attention of a sophomore guy during my first week of freshman year. Even only one month after high school graduation, I attended college orientation and registered for all my classes so I could hoard the best ones. Because I've always looked pretty young for my age, I've consistently bought into this lie that people wouldn't take me seriously until I reached a certain age.
However, I now find that my perspective on my voice and place in the world has matured as I've spiritually matured. Even though my parents ultimately raised me well, much of this perspective was formed through personal experience and the counsel of others. So as I approach my 31st birthday later this month, I thought I would briefly share with you 30 lessons I've learned over the last 30 years. These excerpts do not remotely detail the depths of these things the Lord has taught me, so I may elaborate further on these ideas in future blog posts. However, for right now, I thought it would be fitting to start by listing a few lessons of the maturing process in part one of our three part series: "On Growing Up."
1. Do as the Pinterest mommy bloggers do.
Look, adulting is hard. And yes, I agree that word is stupid, but you can thank my infantile millennial generation for coining this mistake. When I was a teenager, my mom used to tell me she was nervous that I wouldn't know how to properly take care of myself once I moved out of my parents' house. I mean, that stung a little, but I get it. Growing up, I cared more about playing outside than I did about learning how to cultivate any necessary life skills. But when I graduated college, I suddenly realized to my extreme horror that the person who would now be taking care of me...was me.
If you're anything like me and adulting scares the pants off you too, have no fear; the Pinterest mommy bloggers are here! On Pinterest, there are literally thousands of blogger moms with multiples of children who have done all the hard work for you. Through their blogs, you can find meal planning guides linked with healthy recipes, tips and tricks for how to keep your home clean, and gobs of articles on how to balance a proper budget. Girlfriend, don't reinvent the wheel. Just do what the Pinterest blogger moms do, and you'll be fine.
2. Aesthetic is unconventionally important when honored with discernment.
If you ever wanted to rob me, it wouldn't take much; just do what America does, and market me useful things that are pretty to look at; I'll practically hand you my whole checking account. It also doesn't help that this is Chip and Joanna's world, and I'm clearly trapped in it. Should we classify this as a problem? Absolutely. However, I used to think that the main issue was the seduction of aesthetic---that pretty products were like a siren call impossible to ignore. But over the years, I've learned it's okay to enjoy pretty things because it's actually good to honor beauty. Celebrating beauty is one way to worship our Creator God in all of His beauty. Like a master artisan, beaming at the rapturous applause of His unveiled work, His heart rejoices when we praise Him for the beautiful things He makes (Genesis 1:31, Psalm 104: 24, 31).
Instead, the temptation we need to be most alert for is in how we utilize the resources He gives to us. Will we wastefully expend them at the altar of the created things (Romans 1:21-23)? Or will we lovingly offer them back to the One from Whom all beauty is derived and in Whom all beauty is ultimately culminated (Colossians 1:15-17)? I'm not ashamed to use affordable and aesthetically-appealing things to create lovely spaces in my house. In fact, this is one of my favorite things to do because my husband and I are both passionate about using our home as a vessel to honor Christ's hospitality. So if you want to keep up with the latest trends and decorate your home to look like the Magnolia Silos, I say go for it. Just choose budget-friendly ways to pursue this dream, and remember that all the pretty things we see now will one day disappear with the ends of the Earth. But the Beautiful One for Whom you really ache to enjoy is here with you right now, and He will remain for eternity (Revelation 1:8).
3. You will make healthier decisions if you make space for your child self to speak.
At this point, you might be thinking, "Uh, Hannah, what the heck are you talking about?" But stay with me a for a minute, and let me introduce you to Hannah, circa 1996. Five-year-old Hannah was a wildflower, let me tell you. Even though she was certainly imperfect, five-year-old Hannah loved her friends and family so deeply with her tender, little heart. She sang with the wind, twirled in flowy dresses, and giggled as much as she could. But five-year-old Hannah was also petrified of the world around her. Her tender vulnerability had been crushed more than once by the omissive sins of others (more on this story later). Some time later, another older Hannah mysteriously creeped in and reformed five-year-old Hannah. Like a surly judge, adult Hannah decided what five-year-old Hannah should do and how she should act to ensure that this tenderness could never be exposed again. And while this worked for many years, it also calloused little Hannah into an adult façade.
In case you're concerned, I definitely didn't invent this illustration. This concept called "Internal Family Systems" was first defined by psychologist Dr. Richard Schwartz. He notes that we as people are comprised of these discrete parts of our selves called subminds that interact with one another internally much like a dysfunctional family does. Typically, people have one part of their psyche that acts as a manager and another part of them that acts as an imprisoned exile. Often induced by childhood trauma, the manager submind works tirelessly to ensure the safety of the exile submind, and often people have more than one manager and exile (see footnote below).
In my own world, the five-year-old version of me became the "protected" exile, and the calloused adult version of me became the manager. Consequently, I was imprisoned for most of my life in debilitating self-condemnation, dictated by adult Hannah. She was constantly terrified that if child Hannah didn't suck it up, she would be perpetually wounded for "not being good enough." After many years of processing this with the Lord and in therapy, I learned that Jesus does not reject either part of me. He treasured the exiled child in me as much as I did, but He also treasured the abusive managing adult in me, even though I tremendously resented her.
Because of the Gospel, we know that Jesus' love, death, and resurrection covers all the sinful, broken parts of us (2 Corinthians 5:17). But it can take time and even a bit of a struggle to begin to tangibly experience this. Part of maturing into a healthy adulthood involves learning to create a vocal platform for all parts of you. I learned how to let five-year-old Hannah tell the world when she was feeling excited or scared, no matter the consequences. I also learned how to give grace to adult Hannah when she wanted to silence little Hannah because I began to discern that every self-abusive thing adult Hannah did was out of a very real childhood fear of getting hurt again.
When we begin to honor our child selves, we learn how to become more well-rounded as adults. Part of my decision to create this blog as a 30-year-adult is to honor the passion 8-year-old Hannah had for writing. Instead of continuing to permit fear to dictate all my decisions, I'm learning how to let the Holy Spirit lead my decisions through all the specific ways He's created me, and it's producing a harvest of peace within me.
4. Half the battle is showing up.
Y'all, I am a notorious procrastinator because I'm the alternative type of perfectionist. When we think about perfectionists, we envision those women who walk through their ultra-clean houses, holding color-coded planners with up-to-date appointments, scribbled in beautiful penmanship. Or maybe we envision the Leslie Knopes of the world, kicking tail at their entrepreneurial dreams all while somehow showering their loved ones with highly thoughtful presents (if you know, you know). But I'm definitely not that kind of perfectionist. Although the common areas of my house stay pretty tidy, I typically shove all our mess behind closed bedroom doors. Also, I count it a successful day if I can tell you what date it is at all. Instead, I'm the kind of perfectionist who's constantly afraid to begin anything unless I'm certain I can accomplish it perfectly. What does that result in? A whole production of absolutely nothing.
I already confessed to y'all about my chronic fear of never being good enough in the last excerpt. Because of this, I've made many shame-motivated decisions in my life and developed unhealthy coping mechanisms, including some foolish past dating relationships and a nasty internet addiction. I've spent years sitting across from my best friends, anxiously weeping that I felt incapable of developing what it takes to overcome my fear.
But as I continued to let my anxiety bury me, the Holy Spirit began to wield his Truth into the depths of my heart. He reminded me that while it is always my responsibility to obey Him, it is His responsibility alone to cultivate His life within mine (Philippians 2:13). No, I've never had what it takes to overcome my fear, but it was never my responsibility to do that; it was God's (Isaiah 41:13). All Jesus ever expected of me was to show up to my life and remain open to His leading; He would take care of the rest. We're never going to be able to come to Him with all the pieces together because we're far more broken than we can possibly imagine. But we can take our weaknesses (and even our sins) to Him and watch what He can do with even just our presence before His throne (2 Corinthians 12:9).
Growing up is messy and hard, and obviously I know this intimately well. However, in the midst of all our maturity mess, this truth remains steadfast: the Lord is a faithful Shepherd (Psalm 23:1; John 10:2-5), and His Spirit guides us in Truth, advising the way in which we should walk (Isaiah 30:19-21). So basically, no matter if you had attentive or absent parents in your upbringing, you aren't alone when you walk with the Father as you figure out the tangible and intangible paths to growing up. He's already equipped you with everything you need from His Spirit and from His Word (2 Peter 1:3-4; 2 Timothy 3:16-17). But we also have one another in His Church to learn from as we navigate the chaos of this world (Ephesians 4:11-16), and that perhaps is almost just as precious. So if you want to know some the lessons I've learned on human relationships over the last 30 years, stay tuned for next week's post!
Notes
Jon Carlson and Len Sperry, The Intimate Couple (Michigan: Edwards Brothers, 1998), 264 - 265.
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