For the last six weeks or so I've been under a cloud. Actually, it's been more than a cloud. It's been a pretty steady downpour of criticism and rejection from lots of ample sized clouds that seem to never move off my radar.
I shared some of the frustrations of my homeschool loop, but that isn't all. I've struggled with some prolific criticism of my writing from a one particular person, and there have been a few potshots that have left me with some flesh wounds. :-)
I have chosen not to say anything because really, there is nothing to say. There is nothing anyone could say to make me feel better. It isn't about those people, and I know that. In a recent post to said homeschool group, I stated that others only affect us where we have a wound or something in need of healing.
I've written about healing before, and I believe it is God's desire to heal all sickness, whether that be physical, emotional, mental, or spiritual. If that is true, then I have to wonder why healing doesn't happen. One answer I have found to be true is that we sometimes do not receive the healing offered us.
I have not received the healing offered me, and thus, I have spent weeks sick at heart.
One of my recent posts asked the difference between judging and opinions and whose opinion gets to be right? A lot of people seem to have the opinion that I talk just to hear my head rattle. They feel I have nothing of importance to say, and they believe I simply talk so I can have the last word. Some feel I am too verbose, too descriptive, and too flowery in my writing. Simply put, those folks do not think too highly of me, and they don't seem to think I have much-if anything-to contribute. That is their opinion.
Their opinions hurt.
There. I said it. I don't like criticism. I don't like conflict. I don't like being told I'm unimportant and have no value. I don't like hearing people tell me that my gifts aren't treasured or worthy of value.
However, those people are entitled to their opinions, and their opinions of me aren't very high.
On the other hand, I know so many of you, not just on this blog but through personal emails and friendships, and you have your opinions, too. You've shared them through birthday cards, sympathy cards, emails, your own blog entries, and phone calls. Your opinion is that my writing makes sense, shares Truth, and impacts people. Your opinion is my gifts are treasures with great value to make a difference. You have extremely high opinions of me.
So if their low opinions hurt so much, why don't your high opinions heal so much?
Because sometimes I don't have the sense to embrace the healing held out to me. Sometimes I don't have the sense to recognize the most valuable opinions come from the people who are most valuable to me--the ones who hold my heart tenderly and speak Truth with kindness in their eyes even when I don't want to hear it, the ones that laugh with me, cry with me, listen to stories about my children and ooh and aah at the right times. The valuable people are the ones I can be real with, and they find it endearing.
So, my beloved ones, I am so sorry I did not receive the healing you've held out so faithfully. I have thankfully come to my senses. Granted, it's still raining, and there will always be a cloud around, but I think back to splashing through the puddles rather than sitting in them.
Thank you for being the opinionated bunch you are. I think you are wonderful. Granted, it's only my opinion, but I'm convinced I'm right.