Sunday, August 31, 2008

Getting out of my way

I can't tell you how hard it has been to write tonight. I've started and stopped. I've cut and pasted. I've deleted only to undo. I can't seem to make any thoughts clear in my head. Why am I having such a hard time writing "It's not about me". Maybe because there are times (sometimes more often than not), when I feel that it is "all about me". For 23 years, I was Tiffany Anne Bentley, daughter, sister, friend, healer, consoler, listener, swimmer, musician, designer, burger-flipper, editor, designated driver, babysitter, etc. For the past 11 years, I have been Mrs. Tiffany Anne (Bentley) Boardman, wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend, healer, consoler, designer, sitter, creator, writer, head and shoulders, knees and toes. Who am I? And why can't it be all about me? Because, it's not all about me. There are people I've met in 34 years that have needed different things from Tiffany Anne Bentley Boardman. They have needed their wife, their mother, their daughter, their sister, their friend. They have needed their listener, their burger-flipper, their designated driver. They have needed me, or various parts of me. The good and the bad parts of me.

It's not about me. It's about giving of myself so others can see/feel/touch/smell the love of someone who has saw/felt/touched/smelled the love of God. It's about the people around me that I interact with every day. It's the people I pass by on the street, on the road. It's the people whose names I once knew, but have since forgotten. It's for the friends I've lost, and the new ones I've made. It's for those who I will never meet, but know that their lives have been touched because of something I've helped to do for them. It's about God. It's about Jesus. I live with myself because deep down inside, I know I don't always put me first. Often times, I am the last person I think about. I know that sounds cliché, and probably self-righteous, but when I exercise, I wait until the girls and Don have gone to bed so I can spend more time with them. When I sit down to write, I do it after the girls and Don have gone to bed (most of the time), so I can spend more time with them. I'm certainly not a saint, nor am I proclaiming to be. I do stay up late for selfish reasons, too. When everyone's gone to bed there are no pressures, no interruptions. I can sit and type, play games, pray, talk to myself and I don't have to think about anyone else. I can have that bowl of ice cream with chocolate syrup and peanut butter and only have to face the guilt of myself. It's not about me. It's about how God uses me.