I heard my phone ding. I looked down and saw the text was from my husband. My heart sank into my stomach. My hand shook as I tapped on the message. I listened as a song began to play. It’s going to take much more than promises this time.
As a writer and coach for other creatives, I’m often in conversations focused around art and creativity. One of my favorite books on creativity was written by Steven Pressfield. He wrote, “Creative work is not a selfish act or a bid for attention on the part of the actor. It’s a gift to the world and every being in it. Don’t cheat us of your contribution. Give us what you’ve got.”
My lemon tree bloomed again this year, tons of tiny white blossoms with minuscule lemons sprouting inside them. Lemons that never grew large enough to be of use to anyone. The flowers were pretty, but I admit I was disappointed. I wanted lemons that I could squeeze into an icy pitcher of lemonade, drizzle onto tabouleh, and serve with baked chicken.
For as long as I can remember I’ve struggled with self-consciousness. There was a stint, before 3rd grade when I was unashamedly confident, but mean comments, embarrassments, and my own resentment of my shy, introverted personality chipped away at that innocence until I found it easier to hide myself from a world full of standards I couldn’t live up to. My rules for survival were simple: don’t speak up and don’t stand out.
The modern woman is extremely busy. She is hustling all the time, at work, at home, single or married, mother or not, she has a full plate and even fuller mind. The expectations placed on her by society, family, and the church are herculean. The Christian woman can easily mistake these expectations as the measure of her value.