what are the monsters under your bed ?

Under my bed? well right now there are lots of framed photos and unframed artwork. There is also a fairly well used heating pad and a stack of Chemical & Engineering News and Science magazines from last year that I still haven’t finished reading (the ones from this year are still in my desk at work….waiting to be read). There’s even a portfolio case filled with my old paintings and drawings, most of which I would never want on display now. I go back and look at them occasionally and they look so amateurish and stilted to me now. Talk about a nightmare!

But all that junk is not really what I’m talking about.

This is kinda odd, but the thing I fear the most, the true monster under my metaphorical bed, is being forgotten, being not-valued.

It’s not one of my day time monsters, it doesn’t haunt me constantly, it’s more one of those things that comes creeping out when I’m alone.

It doesn’t roar at me, or startle me. It sort of snuggles up next to me and just……….ooooooozes fear. It drools puddles of despondency.

My monster whispers to me, in the dark of the night.

“There is a reason why you don’t have children yet. It’s because God doesn’t think you are worthy”

“There is a reason so-and-so didn’t notice that you needed a heart-to-heart talk or some encouragement from them. It’s because YOU DON’T MATTER”

I want to be important. It’s not that I want to be important on a national or worldwide scale, but I just want to be important to the people I love or even just care for.

I want to matter.

Nice innocuous little thing to want, right?

Well not if I let it rule me. Not if I let the need to Matter to others eclipse the love of my husband, my family and my true friends. Not if I let the desire to “matter” get ahead of other, more important things in my life. Like God, and studying His word.

And not if I let it wound me. I am a Child of God. A Daughter of the High King.

How could anyone matter more than that?

So how about you, what lurks under your metaphorical bed?

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4 thoughts on “what are the monsters under your bed ?

  1. Wait a minute — how can That live under your bed too?

    The Royal Screw-Up also lives under my bed. I *know* that I, personally, am responsible for everything that goes wrong.

    I’m afraid of being a pest — you know, like the overly enthusiastic puppy?

    I’m afraid of misunderstanding what God wants me to do.

    But yeah, I’m afraid of “not mattering” and of “not being worthy.”

    And that Not Being Worthy thing? Yeah. It goes with the depression too. There have been days (and there are days) that I *KNOW* that if I died and stood before God Almighty, that he’d apologize to me, and tell me that “yeah, I know that’s what I said, but in your case, I’m going to have to make an exception. Sorry. You just didn’t make the cut.”

    How can they go from house to house? I think they work for Monsters Inc.

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  2. The monster under my bed is the fear that waht I do won’t matter or be remember when I’m gone. Family is so important to me and I’m always telling stories about my loved ones who are gone, And sometimes I feel like people are like oh boy there she goes telling that story again. But memories and love are a true gift from God. I want to live each day as well as I can and hopefully the way God wants me too.

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  3. A lot of the same stuff lurks under my bed. The unworthiness. The intimidation. All lies, yet sometimes easier to believe than the truth. But I AM a daughter of a King, and to Him my worth knows no bounds.

    Be encouraged…you are not alone, you do matter, and He deems you worthy!

    Like

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