On Insecurity

I’m insecure. I can hear it dribble out sometimes when I talk, like when you’ve come from the dentist and the freezing hasn’t subsided yet and you don’t know you’re drooling until you feel it on your chin. I catch myself trying to puff myself up ever so subtly and cringe on the inside. Why do I need to do that? I notice others doing it and say in my head, “that person is insecure just like me”. Usually, knowing that you’re not alone makes a person feel better, but I don’t in this case. It speaks to some lack in my relationship with God. Rather than being rooted firmly in the love he has for me and resting there, I’m anxious, eager for glances and superficial flattery from people I hardly know.
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A Post on Friends

I’ve moved 22 times. I’ve lived in Madison, South Dakota, Calgary, Alberta in two separate stints, Sterling Heights, Michigan, Bismarck, North Dakota, Edmonton, Alberta, and Lethbridge, Alberta. This includes moving between abodes in the same city. I’ve lived in houses owned, rented and those of relatives, a condo, a few apartments, a college dorm, and rooms in two gracious pastor’s basements. I moved five times in the first 14 years of my life, across country, once by train, mostly by car. All this moving has shaped me, especially in my ability to form relationships, an essential skill for a meaningful, happy life.
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