I'm different

So I was in the drama today at church. Sometimes in our worship we incorporate non-traditional elements into our services: the pastor will show a video, we'll have a drama, or something like that. Anyway, about 4 years ago we used to have drama pretty regularly, nearly every week for a while there. I was very active in the ministry, researching scripts to match the message, helping cast roles, and make props, and acting in many of the scenes. I even coordinated the drama team for a while, just before Caleb was born and I had to step down and focus on having two babies for a while. Over the past few months we've been using drama again and it is becoming more regular. So this week I was asked to act in the drama that was chosen for today's service. It went very well, neither Julia nor I forgot our lines, the timing went great, and I think the message got across the way it should have.

But I realized something huge today as I was waiting backstage, singing along with the praise music, waiting for my time to go onstage. I am not who I was. I am very different than I was back when I was last active in the drama ministry. In a lot of ways, actually. It was harder for me to memorize my lines, for one. And I couldn't just run up to church for a rehearsal anytime I wanted either- now I had to work around naps, bedtimes, and child care timing. But more importantly, I really wasn't thinking about me. I didn't care who was looking at me. I didn't worry whether or not people would think I did a good job. I wasn't stressed or panicked about how I would be seen by everyone watching. You see, a few years ago I would have been engrossed in my lines just minutes before the scene started, worried about looking silly if I forgot a line, but knowing them SO totally well that there was no chance I'd bobble one. I would have been primping, rehearsing in my head, and worrying about "getting it perfect." Well today I was just lost in the music, praising my God. I was standing there- well- dancing there, backstage, eyes closed, face upturned, in the pitch black darkness, singing to my King. Not stressed, not worried, not even thinking about going out there just moments away. Don't get me wrong, I read over my lines once backstage. And I didn't want to mess up - because I wanted people to actually hear the message and get the picture firmly in their heads. But I wasn't at all stressed about how *I* would look. I didn't care about what people would think of *me* today. It suddenly hit me just how much I've grown these past few years.

I thought becoming a Mom would be about raising a kid. Molding, shaping, teaching, loving another little life, directing them in the way they should go. And it is... but I had no idea how much different it would make me. I had no idea how much peace I would find in living outside of me. How quickly and smoothly God would shift my focus outside of myself. And how refreshing and fulfilling it would be to feel this way. See, all those years I was trying to find fulfillment by looking for personal approval or earthly affirmation or human accolades. Little did I know that true fulfillment comes from a far different place. I'm much more fulfilled now that I'm not searching to be fulfilled. And I can't wait for everything else God has to teach me.

I love being different.