Insecurity is a four-letter word.
We as women, as sisters, do all that we can to avoid it. We work out. We straighten/curl/dye our hair. We even press strands of it into aluminum foil, for crying out loud.
We post pictures of our dinner successes. We broadcast our trendiest outfits. We immortalize gifts or flowers from our man-friends.
We show how wild and exotic the single life is. With stories nights in loud bars, our hands tied to martinis and men who won't hurt us, but won't commit to us either.
We try desperately to keep up with the Kardashians. Comparing our wealth and joy to the virtual buzzing of an unreal reality.
We do this all in the name of stacking up points against insecurity. Or, as we say on the Prodigal Sister, uncertainty. We're all battling it in one way or another. And it's an easy war to get sucked into.
Am I as pretty as she is?
Does my talent stack up against the industry's?
Will this relationship fail like all the rest have?
Does my life have a purpose larger than keeping my head and finances above water from month to month?
So much of this I need to hear myself. Just the other night as I was pulling into my little Virginia Beach apartment, my phone flickered awake with a text from my aunt.
She told me she was praying for clarity for me. To which I promptly burst into tears.
Funny how she could discern my uncertain smoke signals from miles and time zones away. How she could see the pressure valve waning in my soul. How she knew that constant questions were clouding my sense of worth. And that another person's joy was another insecurity hammering into me like a railroad tie.
As I reflect on the past year, all I know is that I have spent more time questioning than praying.
I've worried more than I've trusted.
I've shouted more complaints than praises.
I've been the prodigal daughter---begging for an early inheritance from my father. Squandering away blessings and birthrights.
This blog, this ministry, is dedicated to eliminating insecurity. To end the swarm of questions we ask ourselves. To being patient while we wait for life to unfold. And to have the courage to live the way God asks us to.
To pick up our mats and walk because we have a face, a name and a calling. And we need to spend our days and thought lives as though we believe it.
photo credit: Jakob E via photopin cc
Brett Wilson is a Christ-loving, single, curly-haired, left-handed coffee-addict. She is a public relations writer in Virginia Beach, Virginia. You can read more from Brett at her site, www.prodigalsister.com, or on Twitter.