I Am Not a Jellyfish

I am not a Jellyfish.

It’s been a while since I’ve felt compelled to write anything. For the 2 person audience I usually have I would just like to clear up that over the last little stretch I’ve simply been trying to convince myself that I am not, in fact, a jellyfish.

That’s right.

I am not a jellyfish, a mindless, identity less, stinging blob floating about the vast waters of the ocean concerned with only reproduction and feeding.

I am a God fearing, God loving, God loved, human person with arms and legs, a pounding heart and a soul. Having recently considered that I’m not really independently virtuous, nor diligent in any particular effort, nor righteous, nor above any measure of “average”, I feel I have been acting like one; a jellyfish that is.

You see, as a very young person I fell for “it”. The lie Satan tells us and that we often tell ourselves, either suddenly and outright or gradually through distraction and self doubt, that we are merely victims of our circumstances. The lie that even though we are driven to behave in a certain terrible way, often with good reason, that our terrible behavior is not only excusable but immovable, unalterable.

This lie, this horrid untruth, is pervasive. It will seep into you as if it were a part of your whole self, like a second skin. I’ve let it get ahold of me.

Years ago, with childhood behind me and an entire adulthood dauntingly standing before me, I had a falling out with some people very dear to me and tiny seeds were planted in the rich soil of anxiety and fear. Seeds of doubt.

I later married and that doubt sprouted into questions regarding my ability to be a good wife. It wasn’t until I started having babies that those sprouts gained some serious ground and grew into wild untamed, thorny vines. They’d often choke me out, on good days they’d simply trip me up.
With growth like that you end up in a dark jungle, wondering If you’ll ever feel sure footed again.
I get tired and frustrated and I lose my temper. I get overwhelmed and bitterness flows out of me in torrents. Sometimes I truly feel like just another sad story of failure.

I’ve been sloppy with my relationships, especially the precious ones, sloppy with our household and downright careless with my responsibilities. Under all that was an underlying current, an excuse for every mistake, a reason for every sin. Guilt and rationalization are best friends.
After a while you stop trying to correct yourself and just give in to the circumstances, the reasons why you do the things you do and instead of action, you have guilt.

Each moment in which I would realize my failings my guilt would only increase and as I would pray there’d be an asterisk on my heart. “God, help me sort this out. Help me be better at this, please forgive me.” *Grace and mercy are for other people, not you. Your heart is in too dark a place. “God, please help me, please forgive me.” **Grace, isn’t for you, Debbie. My guilt would eat at me, that old bad feeling, that always ends up in doubt. I’m a lousy wife, a mediocre mother, a lazy friend, a horrible manager of our home. Until I was so beat up I just wanted to give up and settle for being crappy at everything.

Now don’t get me wrong, by society’s standards I haven’t committed the “big sins”. Haven’t been violent, or adulterous. But I’d been squeaking by on guilt and excuses, not really seeing clearly right and wrong, what was righteous and true. Certainly not striving to be virtuous or make any kind of difference.

And then, finally, as my guilt and shame and excuses began to run their usual cycle with increasing ferocity, I stopped. I begged. Just like Paul told the early church, I wanted to go back to doing what I knew to be right and asked God to bless me in that. With simplicity, with clarity. I faced something I had been avoiding a long time because of my own guilt and fear and self doubt.

And then my head was clear. I realized that I am not a jellyfish.

While I am flawed and will always be a sinner just like the rest of the human race, there are more actions to take than simply being consumed by my own hurt, my own shame.
I love the Teddy Roosevelt quote, “Get Action. Seize the moment. Man was never intended to become an oyster.”

If I’m struggling with something I can choose to be consumed by it or I can pray for guidance and fight. God has blessed me with the strength and capability to survive and even thrive in this.
I will fight for my kids to have a loving, patient mother. I will fight, like my life depends on it, to handle our finances as a good steward. I will fight for my marriage. I will fight against the sordid refuse the media shoves in my face that tells me I need to water down my beliefs and I will fight against any opposition to God’s will. I will fight to be a good servant.

When either I or someone else acknowledges that this season of life has its share of struggles, we can laugh at that, even enjoy it. But acknowledgement of the struggle mustn’t translate into defeat or complacency.

As I recently told my 7 year old, there’s a big difference between “I can’t” and “I don’t want to.” And most of our barriers are comprised of the latter.

I will fight.

If I want to be virtuous, I can be. If I want to be diligent and intentional I can be. Sometimes our greatest and dangerous struggles, our most unconquerable tasks are the ones in our own heads.

I will fight.

Because I am not a jellyfish. I am an intentional Proverbs 31 hopeful.