wanted as is

I was feeling pretty good about life, until I scrolled through my Instagram account and saw it.

The pie.

This perfectly, baked cherry pie.

And not only was it a beautiful and delicious looking pie, but taken out of it was the perfect little bite. This glorious, gourmet, cherry pie was plated on a perfectly worn piece of vintage china, with a single silver fork, gracefully placed on the edge of the plate. And as if that were not enough, this entire plate and pie was photographed on a rustic, distressed, and absolutely fabulous, farm table.

ok, so this pie is not the pie on my IG feed, so you will have to imagine the farm table, fork and bite. The real image was just too much to handle.

Now, some people might scroll right past that pie. Because I mean, honestly? Who cares? Big deal. You made yourself a pie and took a picture of it. Congratulations. Whatever. But not me. You want to know the bag of crazy that popped into my mind when I saw that beautiful pie?

How on earth did she have the time to bake that? Why did she bake it? Obviously, she must be having a party or a group of friends over. Or one of her fabulous arts and crafts gatherings. I’ll bet she is sitting in her perfect house right now laughing with friends and being all hospitable and crap. Her hair probably looks good, too. Good grief, she has people over now? In the middle of the day? How is her house clean enough for that? And that china plate...I know she got it at a thrift shop. Who the heck even has the time to go thrifting? And where does all of her money come from anyway? She has 19 kids and she doesn’t even work! I guess she sits around baking and entertaining and thrifting...nice...while I sit in my mess of a rented home, microwaving some sort of loser dinner for my family who probably hates me, and serving it on a paper plate because all of our chipped china plates are sitting in the sink. And where are all of those kids while she is baking and entertaining? Oh no...great..I know...they probably helped bake the darn thing! In fact, I’ll bet as a family, they grew and picked the cherries that went into that pie! I’ll bet this was some sort of homeschooling lesson, where they measured and counted and turned pie baking into an educational experience. Probably prayed over the ingredients and had them blessed. And why don’t I have a farm table? I think I need a farm table. Seriously. I think I would be so much happier if I just found the right farm table. I hate myself. I really do. I mean look at me. I’m wearing my 13 year olds leggings and my 11 year old’s dirty sweatshirt. I look like a homeless woman. I really do. If I sat outside on the corner you would totally give me money. That’s how homeless I look right now. And what really gets me is what woman can sit down and eat a pie on a Tuesday afternoon without hating herself? Right? I mean come on, it’s gotta be loaded with gluten. And sugar. So much sugar. And she’s so skinny! So unfair. She’s skinny eating pie with friends in her clean home while I sit at my messy desk in my homeless attire. You know how fat I would get if I did nothing but make and eat pie? She probably doesn’t even eat it. She’s probably one of those women who invite other women to come over and eat, and she sits and watches. She want’s everyone to be fatter than her. Nice. Ugh. I really am a mess. Why can’t I just get myself together? The house is a mess, my desk is a mess, I am not even good at my job, and who knows what my kids are up to. I need help. Serious help. And I need a farm table. I really need a farm table. What’s wrong with me? I hate that stupid pie.

Ah, the wonderful, encouraging world of social media! Isn’t is great?

Ok, so here is the thing.

Other than the fact that this woman had a few minutes and the desire to photograph a pie, every other thought that ran through my head was most likely false. (expect for the thrifting. I stand by the thrifting, because honestly, I may not know her, but she thrifts too much.) But we do this, don’t we? We see an image and our minds create a story around it. We see, and we desire. And this is good. A great picture ought to tell a story, it ought to stir emotion. But there is a problem with this today. Because we are bombarded by images, and we have the hideous ability to see what everyone is doing, eating, drinking, wearing, vacationing, and enjoying, at every given moment of our every single day. And most of the images we see? Guess what? They are filtered. They are staged. They are untrue. They are the one perfect shot out of 500 others you did not see, and most likely, never will.

But it is hard to not use filters, because they really do make us look so much better. The first time I used a filter on my face, and saw the even, smooth skin, and bright eyes, I was sold! And don’t get me started on the animal filters...because honestly, I am at my most beautiful when I look and sound like a deer. Who knew? So strange, but I gotta admit, so true. So much so, that I have already requested that when I die, if possible, I’d like to be laid out in the coffin, looking like that deer.

Let’s just confess. We all love filters.

But here is an interesting thing. You know what it means to use a filter? I do. Not because I am smart, but because I looked it up. To use a filter means to “remove what is unwanted.” When I read that, I was really struck by it, and not in a good way. Something about the word remove….something about the word unwanted. Because how many years of my life have I devoted to trying to remove those things about me, that I do not want; those things about me, that I think make me less attractive? Less desirable? Those things in my life that might point to the fact that I am kind of a hot mess and not the perfect woman I’d like you to think that I am? And the answer? Too many. From the nose job when I was just 17, to drastic weight loss in college, to the frantic house cleaning maniac I turn into moments before company arrives. I have been on a nearly life long quest of seeking out the illusion of perfection. Changing my image to fit whatever crowd I was currently in, transforming myself into the woman I thought a man would be attracted to. And let’s be honest ladies, we not only like to be perfect for the men, but even more so, for other women. Right? We are the most competitive species that I know, and we love a good game of comparison, so long as we win. So all of this filtering we do, it really isn’t about enhancing the beauty that is already there, is it? No. It is about removing the unwanted, to give the illusion that everything is so much better than it actually is, because the way we are, as is, is not good enough.

And I think we do this because we want everyone to believe that we are better than just okay. I think we remove, and sift, and filter things out, so that people cannot see what is really go on inside of our homes, inside of our families, inside of our marriages, inside of our hearts, inside of our heads. And I get it...not everyone needs to see the inside of your kitchen junk drawer, or what your linen closet looks like, and not everyone should be trusted with the truth of how weary you feel, how lost your child is, how your marriage feels lacking in an incredibly lonely and painful way. But we do need to recognize that filters don’t work in real life, and in real relationship because filters don’t encourage the basic things we need to thrive, like truth, authenticity, and honesty. And we really need to acknowledge, at some point, that life is not perfect, we are not perfect, and that our pain is valid and real and okay and should be addressed, because sticking a deer’s ears and nose on it will not make it go away. It is a temporary fix. It is not made to last. And I don’t know about you, but no matter how loud the world gets, and convinces me that nothing lasts forever, and love is a feeling, I disagree. I disagree because I want authentic, lasting relationships, and I want to choose to love because I desire the greatest good for others, not just myself. But if I can’t get real with myself, how will I ever learn to get real with others?

It’s hard to get real, isn’t it? I think we have just pretended for so long, that it feels wrong to drop our mask, and widen the camera lens, and show the whole picture. But here is the thing. There will never be a filter we can use that will keep our true selves from the One who sees all, knows all, and created all. And I often wonder what God thinks, when he sees us pouring over false images, doubting who we are, buying into lies, comparing our lives to others, trying to remake ourselves to look like someone else. I think about how sad He must feel when we pick apart our faces, our bodies, our marriages, our lives, desperately trying to cover up the imperfections, remove the unwanted. And oh, how exhausted we are. How painfully tired we are from all of this performing. And it is when I do this that I can hear His voice. I can see Him reaching out to us, and I can hear Him saying, “Oh, sweet daughter, just stop. Please stop and listen. I made you. Do you hear Me? You are my beautiful creation. And you have been made perfect in my image. Not the images you see on instagram. MY image. There is no bit of you that is unwanted. I knit you Myself, and I do not make mistakes. Stop undoing the threads. It is killing you. You are exhausted. I did not make you to feel this way. Take off the filter, and just be you. Only I can purify you, only I can refine you. Let me. Let my light pass through you. Quit shutting me out. Put down the filter of this world, and take up MY filter. Look at yourself through My eyes. My heart. See yourself how I see you, how I love you, how very much I want you. Just as you are. Every piece of you. Wanted.“

And then I hear Him say, “By the way, she bought that pie from the store and the rest of her house was a mess, and you don’t need a farm table, and you want to see homeless? Because I can show you homeless...so please... just shut up.” Only God probably doesn’t say shut up. I do. I should probably filter that.

I don’t know. I just think we live a half filled life when we spend it trying to make it look like something it isn’t. Because honestly? Who are we fooling? God sees you, and He wants you. Every bit of the you He created. He doesn’t want you looking like a deer and He doesn’t care how perfect your life looks on your Instagram feed. He sees so much more than you are willing to show, and He wants it all. You are wanted as is. Unfiltered. Unstaged. Wanted. Look at that image. Post that. And believe it.