In November of 2006, a good friend of ours, Lisa Cauble (you know her as Lisa Whelchel), asked me to come with her to Nashville to participate in a DVD Bible study, called My Story.
Lisa knew that I had once upon a time supported myself as an actress. And by “supported myself” I mean that I ate mostly cake mix and chicken flavored stovetop stuffing and called it dinner.
And I wonder why my metabolism is so very uncooperative lately.
She assumed that I would be comfortable in front of the camera, (even though it had been over 15 years.) And she forgot about my propensity to say inappropriate things when nervous. I didn’t, mind you, but I could have.
I jumped at the chance to go. Two whole days without changing a single diaper. That was appealing. And getting to hang out with Lisa and a bunch of other really fun women. Well. That was just gravy on my proverbial stovetop stuffing.
After the filming, I wrote a little post about the adventure. But, I left out the part about what was going on inside of my head. And heart.
After we arrived at the hotel, I was walking down a quiet corridor toward my room, and inexplicably, tears began shooting from my eyes.
I felt so out of place, so out of my element, and so inadequate. I knew in my heart that these were lies being whispered to me by an enemy, but I couldn’t stop the thoughts. And I prayed, “Oh Lord, please get me through this without embarrassing anyone.” When I got to my room, I looked out the window at the beautiful fall foliage (we don’t have fall foliage here in Retirement, Florida) and there, below the window was an old cemetery.
Right about then, I developed a migraine that remained with me for the next two days. The kind of migraine that makes you want to take an ice pick to your inner ear, because that would surely be a less painful way to end it all.
Everyone was lovely, and the two days of taping went smoothly. I didn’t even say any bad words on camera. Or off, for that matter. And when I realized that God was not going to answer my prayer and take me up to heaven the migraine away, I began to pray that He would just hold me upright.
And hold me up He did. I made it through. I still haven’t been able to watch myself on the DVD, but friends of mine have, and they are still speaking to me. Which is always a good sign.
All of this has come up again, because in a few days I leave for She Speaks. Old insecurities have resurfaced. And because God knows exactly what I need to hear, I received an e-mail from Amy Carroll of Proverbs 31 Ministries address to all of the attendees. What an encouragement. She talked about her first time attending, her fears, and how blessed she was by the experience. Words I needed to hear.
As women, I think we all suffer from self-doubt at some time in our lives. Even the women we most look up to and admire are dealing with their own issues. Even Beth Moore has admitted this. Something I find oh so very comforting. (No, I’ve never met her, I just stalk her website and LOVE her teaching.) Our insecurities I suppose are what make us vulnerable, and more transparent with one another.
I am beginning to get really excited about this coming weekend, and what God will be teaching me. I look forward to meeting other writers who share a passion about ministry work, and women bloggers who are so very encouraging and inspiring. Those kindred spirits who sit behind a keyboard and pour out their heart most every day. All with a sense of humor and Godly diplomacy.
You can bet that I’m packing my extra-strength Excedrin, and trusty ice pack for my head. Although, the cobalt blue ice pack doesn’t quite coordinate with the “business casual” look that I’m shooting for. My family hardly ever notices the ice pack perched on my head (it’s there right now) anymore, so maybe, the other attendees won’t notice either. Or, at least be polite enough not to point and stare. Or snicker.
Thank you all for listening to me. And for allowing me a forum to air my laundry. It is always such a comfort to me to know that I’m not alone in my insanity. 🙂
I can never tell you often enough how much you all mean to me.