somewhat disorganized thoughts on my true self

Fake:
(verb) to conceal the defects of or to make more attractive, interesting, valuable, etc. Usually in order to deceive.

A lot of people act like they're perfect. They want their outsides to reflect something their insides aren't. The truth is, everyone is a little cracked or
dented; a little nuts sometimes.
So if none of us are perfect, why do so many people pretend to be?
This post might seem a little bit repetitive, but I can't help what's been on my heart lately. I just have this overwhelming feeling of God's desire for Christians to feel like a community. (why, yes, I did go to lmh) But the only way we can grow and support each other is if we're brutally honest.
I'm not going to lie, honesty scares me to death. I'm afraid if I admit how my days truly unfold sometimes I would be labeled a bad mother, or a bad wife. I think those feelings are especially raw to me because I HAVE been labeled as these things before, by people who should have been loving and supporting me. And, upon further review of myself, I have had an extremely difficult time with forgiveness in that situation. But, right now that's neither here nor there.
My challenge to myself is to get to that place of honesty, where it doesn't matter what other people think. A place where my identity is so buried in God's truth I'll be secure regardless what anyone thinks of where I've been, where I am, or where I'm headed.
My truth right now is that I'm on a journey. I've discovered that I have shoved a lot of hurt and a lot of lies about myself into a space somewhere inside me, and Jesus and my pain-space can't exist together. So in the next few months I'm going to be challenged to revisit some not so nice times to improve my mental and soul health. Well, that's part of it. I'm not ready to throw it all out there yet, but I'm confident I'll get there.
I'm so thankful for my husband's kind and gentle encouragement toward growth for me. It's awesome how a time of turmoil has turned out to be so amazing for the growth and deepening of our relationship.

Learning to be ME

The past several weeks have been a little stressful here at the Lapp home.
I find myself facing more challenges,
and to be honest, I'm not sure how we're going to deal with them.
Now, I'm not complaining, I'm so thankful for the roof over my head, and the fact that I'm not wondering where my next meal will come from. But I've definitely been challenged emotionally.
I've begun to question what is real,
what is really real. To borrow a word from another blog I read, what is authentic. Lately I've spoken to some
of my awesome Godly women friends, and we've all had the same frustration,
feeling like there's an expectation for us to "be" a certain way. We get together in places of fellowship where
we should be REAL, and find ourselves acting like we don't yell at
our children in frustration sometimes, like we don't fight with our husbands, like we're model Christian women who don't struggle with self esteem, body image, depression, or anything else.
I want to break that mold, I want to find
the woman inside of me that is whole,
and righteous because of Christ. I want to be honest about my weaknesses, and not be afraid of what other people might think. I feel like there is so much power, and freedom, and healing in being genuine. I can't be wholly who I'm supposed to be until I get there. I hope I will get there.
Maybe day by day I'll get a little more
honest about me. It's scary though, because I've definitely built a wall around my secrets. Things in my
past, and my present that I think I need to be ashamed of. That lie has only flourished in the darkness I keep it in.
There is power and light in truth, in what is real, and what is authentic and genuine. So, I'll try to keep up with my
blog as I embark on conquering this new challenge that stands before me. And hopefully soon I'll find the courage to step out in faith and expose more of my personal truth.

One Of Those Nights

Well, it's one of those nights. One of those nights when my husband is fast asleep (and I should be, too) but I find myself awake and thinking of my baby. Nights like these have felt all too common since July 1st, when I miscarried our little girl, Kiana Elise. When the whole world is quiet around me, my heart aches for my little girl. In my soul I know that she is in heaven, and God has a greater plan, and that she was never meant to be here with us, but it still hurts, and the tears still come. They come most often in the middle of the night, and I hate it. I don't want to seem like I don't trust in God's plan and his timing, because I do. I'm constantly reminded on nights like these that the sorrow will only last for the night, and in the morning I will feel better. My heart will be filled with joy when my two beautiful girls that God has chosen to give me on this earth wake up (hopefully not too early!) and fill our house will their sunshine. The thing I hold close to me is the truth that I know: my little Kiana, God's princess, is praising her Father in heaven as I weep for her on earth.
The other day Korinne told me that her little sister is in Jesus' castle. I love moments like that. Moments that remind me that our baby is in a better place, my miracle on earth reminding me of my miracle in heaven.