Not I but We
Years ago, in a Sunday school lesson, I wrote the following on the board:
"More than anything, people want ___________________."
And I asked everyone to really think of their answer. I'm asking the same thing of you right now: What do you want more than anything?
Now, off the top of your head you'll probably say a good teacher in a hard class or graduation to come sooner or a good job or a roommate who doesn't stay up so late.
But if you really think about it, I bet it's none of those things. And I bet it's not money, fame, success, or even a well-known plan.
I bet it something like this:
to belong.
Am I right?
It's what we all want. We want to belong to a group or a person or an identity or a tribe. When I was a little girl I wanted so badly to be an actress on the movie Annie because I wanted to be an orphan that could sing and dance and do gymnastics down the long wooden halls with all the other girls. As I got older I didn't want to just do gymnastics; I wanted to be a cheerleader because I would be in a group. In college I LOVED being a music major because I was always part of a group: a choir, a piano duo, accompanist for a singer, or one of many performers at a recital.
If I peel back a little deeper, though, I can expose maybe a more genuine need to belong: In elementary school I found my identity in the fact that my friends were MY friends and we were tight as a knot. In middle school, when my friends decided they didn't like me any more (you know how middle school girls are), I was crushed. I didn't have a group. I didn't belong.
But I had a boyfriend. And though I shake my head at my 7th grade self as I write this, I found comfort in the fact that I was part of a pair: me and him.
More than that, though, I had my family. And though there were times when I got embarrassed that my dad blared the Gatlin Brothers on our hallway record player (yes, I was born in the stone age) or that my mom smiled too much (seriously; that was the worst thing I could get upset about), I knew that I was one of them.
All these memories came crashing into my brain today as my kids and I were outside playing. I gave them the option of staying outside or going in; they both took off running toward the house. As they raced, giggling, my daughter said to my son, "We knew what we were going to do."
She loved being a we.
It's so much better than an I.
And I bet, based purely on my understanding and knowledge of young ladies, that you are much happier day to day, hour by hour, if you are a we and not an I. It doesn't even matter if you're with your group all the time; just knowing you are a we makes you happier than being an I.
So I write all these blog posts about being weird and you think, "I don't want to be weird. I want to BELONG."
I hear you. I know that feeling.
You're tired of hearing me say it, because everything in you wants to be the person that makes you a we and not an I. So it's time to address it.
And if I could, I would sit down with you at my favorite coffee shop, get one of the tall tables with two tall chairs, take a deep drink of my hot Vienna latte, look you in the eyes and say:
"Your desire to be a we instead of an I comes from God."
He made you to crave companionship.
He created you to love camaraderie.
He put that longing inside you to be a we.
He made you unhappy as an I.
I promise I know what I'm talking about.
You want to say to me, "No! If I just had a boyfriend/best friend/fiancee/mentor/soul mate I would be fine!" Wrong. Because even when you are a we you know there's something wrong. Something panicky that says, "I'm going to hold on to this relationship because if I lose this I lose who I am."
But I would say this to you: You will never be in a healthy we relationship until you first identify yourself, your I, by your relationship with God.
So let's work on that.
Not today; I've already taken up enough of your time :)
But I ask you to do this: start your day asking God, "Lord, am I a we with You?"
I can't wait to walk through this with you :)
@leslienotebook
myleslienotebook@gmail.com
"More than anything, people want ___________________."
And I asked everyone to really think of their answer. I'm asking the same thing of you right now: What do you want more than anything?
Now, off the top of your head you'll probably say a good teacher in a hard class or graduation to come sooner or a good job or a roommate who doesn't stay up so late.
But if you really think about it, I bet it's none of those things. And I bet it's not money, fame, success, or even a well-known plan.
I bet it something like this:
to belong.
Am I right?
It's what we all want. We want to belong to a group or a person or an identity or a tribe. When I was a little girl I wanted so badly to be an actress on the movie Annie because I wanted to be an orphan that could sing and dance and do gymnastics down the long wooden halls with all the other girls. As I got older I didn't want to just do gymnastics; I wanted to be a cheerleader because I would be in a group. In college I LOVED being a music major because I was always part of a group: a choir, a piano duo, accompanist for a singer, or one of many performers at a recital.
If I peel back a little deeper, though, I can expose maybe a more genuine need to belong: In elementary school I found my identity in the fact that my friends were MY friends and we were tight as a knot. In middle school, when my friends decided they didn't like me any more (you know how middle school girls are), I was crushed. I didn't have a group. I didn't belong.
But I had a boyfriend. And though I shake my head at my 7th grade self as I write this, I found comfort in the fact that I was part of a pair: me and him.
More than that, though, I had my family. And though there were times when I got embarrassed that my dad blared the Gatlin Brothers on our hallway record player (yes, I was born in the stone age) or that my mom smiled too much (seriously; that was the worst thing I could get upset about), I knew that I was one of them.
All these memories came crashing into my brain today as my kids and I were outside playing. I gave them the option of staying outside or going in; they both took off running toward the house. As they raced, giggling, my daughter said to my son, "We knew what we were going to do."
She loved being a we.
It's so much better than an I.
And I bet, based purely on my understanding and knowledge of young ladies, that you are much happier day to day, hour by hour, if you are a we and not an I. It doesn't even matter if you're with your group all the time; just knowing you are a we makes you happier than being an I.
So I write all these blog posts about being weird and you think, "I don't want to be weird. I want to BELONG."
I hear you. I know that feeling.
You're tired of hearing me say it, because everything in you wants to be the person that makes you a we and not an I. So it's time to address it.
And if I could, I would sit down with you at my favorite coffee shop, get one of the tall tables with two tall chairs, take a deep drink of my hot Vienna latte, look you in the eyes and say:
"Your desire to be a we instead of an I comes from God."
He made you to crave companionship.
He created you to love camaraderie.
He put that longing inside you to be a we.
He made you unhappy as an I.
I promise I know what I'm talking about.
You want to say to me, "No! If I just had a boyfriend/best friend/fiancee/mentor/soul mate I would be fine!" Wrong. Because even when you are a we you know there's something wrong. Something panicky that says, "I'm going to hold on to this relationship because if I lose this I lose who I am."
But I would say this to you: You will never be in a healthy we relationship until you first identify yourself, your I, by your relationship with God.
So let's work on that.
Not today; I've already taken up enough of your time :)
But I ask you to do this: start your day asking God, "Lord, am I a we with You?"
I can't wait to walk through this with you :)
@leslienotebook
myleslienotebook@gmail.com
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