Wednesday, December 18, 2013

The Voices in my Head

I noticed a lot of my friends shared the same article on their Facebook pages.  It's called The Bully too Close to Home, by Rachel Macy Stafford of

After it appeared in my news feed for about the fifth time, I decided I should take a minute to read it.  After all, if that many of my friends deemed it worthy to share, perhaps it wouldn't be a waste of time.

So I read it.  And it was in fact a very good read.

The author talks about her obsession with perfection, and how that obsession led her to seek perfection in her children, namely her oldest daughter.  She went on to say that the desire to have all things perfect stemmed from the negative thoughts that creep into her mind, criticizing her appearance, her actions, and even her children.

Do you hear those voices in your head?

I know I do.

And no, I'm not schizophrenic.  
At least that's what I tell myself. 


But I hear those same voices, telling me those same things.

You're fat. 

You're ugly.

You're lazy.

You're stupid.

But the voice I hate the most, and yet I hear the loudest, is the one that tells me...

You're not good enough.

You're not good enough.

You're not good enough.

That is the voice that too often keeps me from knowing Jesus better, seeing Him for who He really is, and understanding His love for me.


This past weekend, my husband told me he had decided to teach our boys a lesson in humility by having them participate in a foot-washing.

Now, anytime you talk about feet, my automatic response is, "Ewww...  Feet are gross."

I mean, honestly, think about it.  Feet ARE gross.  Am I right?

They're cold.  They're sweaty.  They're smelly.  They're filthy.  Ew...

Yes.  I am right.  Feet... are... GROSS.

So, what better way to practice humility, than to kneel in front of someone and wash their feet?


This whole ordeal brought forth a memory of the last time someone, other than me, washed my cold, sweaty, smelly, filthy feet...


I was part of a Christian service sorority, Alpha Delta Theta (ADT), during my college years at High Point University.  The girls in this group were "my sisters".

I didn't do anything on campus without at least one of them by my side.  They helped me experience college life at its greatest.  Whether it was staying up all night rolling down a snow-covered hill, or getting kicked out of McDonald's because we were laughing too loud.  Singing to a captive audience at the local Pizza Hut, or crying over boys, or exams, or mean girls.

They helped me thrive and survive during those college years, in every sense.

But most especially in the spiritual sense.

When I started college, I was a follower of Jesus Christ, but I didn't really know Him.  I had always gone to church, but I knew there was more to being a Christian than what I'd learned at Sunday School.

I remember, my first day at HPU, when my college roommate introduced herself to me as a devout Christian, my response was, "I want to be that too."

And the first time I went to an ADT meeting, a curly-haired girl named Molly said hello.  Then she held her hand up to me with her fingers crossed and said, "Me and Jesus.  We're like this."

And I thought, "Wow.  I want that too."

And over the next three and half years, these ladies showed me that living for Jesus is more fun, more challenging, more meaningful, and more purposeful than I could ever have imagined.

And this past weekend, while looking down at my husband as he gently lathered my feet with soap, one particular memory with my college peeps came to mind.

That's why I wrote this blog post.  This is what I want to share with you.


I was one of the leaders of Alpha Delta Theta, our Christian service sorority.  As I called the meeting to order, our praise leader pulled me aside to tell me that in place of our devotion, we would be doing a foot-washing.  Our conversation went something like this...

Me:  Wait.  What?

Her:  A foot-washing.

Me:  What is that?

Her:  Like in the Bible, when Jesus washed the disciples' feet.

Me:  So you're going to wash our feet?

Her:  We're all going to wash each other's feet.

Me:  Ew.  No.

Her:  (awkward silence)

Me:  No.

Her:  Why not?

Me:  I'm not comfortable with this.

Her:  Why not?

Me:  I'm just not.

Not since I was a baby had anyone washed my feet.  Ever.  And as I watched another friend bring in bins full of water, with cloths draped over her arm, I became light-headed.  No, no, no, no, no, no, no.  

I was scared.  And a little grossed-out.  But mostly scared.

We sat in the circle with our closest friends.  My friend, the praise leader, sat beside me.  She read from the Bible about Jesus washing his disciples feet.

And as the washing bin made it's way closer to me...

(rapid heartbeat, nervous breathing)

I started crying.

Tears flowed freely from my eyes, and I totally lost it.

And not because I was thinking of Jesus.

And not because I was totally grossed-out.

But because of that voice in my head.

You're not good enough.

You're not good enough. 

You're not good enough.

I felt so unworthy.

Who am I that my friend should kneel before me, and wash my feet.

I tried to convince her to skip over me, but she refused.  She grabbed my foot and stuck in the water.  Then she proceeded to make it clean.

She didn't hear that voice in my head.  She didn't know I wasn't good enough.

She just washed my feet.

I have never in my life felt so humble.


I hadn't thought about that moment in a very long time.  But it all came back to me this weekend.

Keith wanted to teach our boys by initiating this foot-washing, but I think it touched me more than it touched them.

In their defense, they are young boys.  All they could think about was how smelly each other's feet were, and how much it tickled to have them washed by someone else.

But as Keith washed my feet, and I washed his...

This time, I thought of Jesus.  The King of Kings.  Kneeling in front of me.  Washing my feet.


Or better yet.  Jesus, King of Kings.  Dying on a cross.  For me.

I am so not worthy.

You are so right, voice in my head.  I am not worthy.  But He did it anyway.  How blessed am I?

Thank you, Jesus.

Thank you, Jesus.

Thank you, Jesus.


Seeds of Faith - inspired by Elisha Skeen

I've always struggled with those voices in my head.  It is quite a relief to know that I am not the only one.  

What I've come to realize is those voices come from the mouth of the devil, trying to destroy my confidence, and obliterate my sense of self-worth.

The Bible says in John 10:27

My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me.

If I am listening to those voices telling me I'm fat, or I'm ugly, or I'm not good enough...  Then I can't hear the voice of God, the voice of Truth.  The voice that tells me...

I am beautiful.

I am loved.

I am important.

Thanks to my sisters in Alpha Delta Theta, thanks to my husband, (thanks to a few years in counseling), but most of all, thanks to the Holy Bible, I know His voice is the only voice that matters.

I hope you hear it too.  :)


If you have a moment, I encourage you to listen to this awesome song by Casting Crowns - The Voice of Truth.

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