Pressing Pause
I’ve been pretty silent here and on social media since my daughter was born. The transition to two children has been simultaneously beautiful and wild, and 2021 was one of the best and hardest years I’ve experienced so far. Insomnia, postpartum depression and anxiety, and Covid brought hardship, while some other things that I’m not ready to talk about publicly yet led to deep restoration within our family.
This week, I finished reading Jodi Picoult’s latest novel, about a Manhattanite stuck on a tropical island as the Covid pandemic hits New York City and the world. The main character shares a realization halfway through the book that resonated with me during this season:
Here, I can’t lose myself in errands and work assignments; I can’t disappear in a crowd. I am forced to walk instead of run, and as a result I’ve seen things I would have sped past before—the fuss of a crab trading up for a new shell, the miracle of a sunrise, the garish burst of a cactus flower.
Busy is just a euphemism for being so focused on what you don’t have that you never notice what you do.
It’s a defense mechanism. Because if you stop hustling—if you pause—you start wondering why you ever thought you wanted all those things.
As a former New Yorker who traded deadlines for diapers, I so feel this! It’s not that I’m not busy anymore but that I’ve stopped hustling. My productivity looks different. (I’ve talked about this before.) And since giving birth to my daughter, I’ve finally allowed myself to pause.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve been striving. I’ve been working to answer the question, “Am I enough?” Having a lot on my plate and pushing myself to be “the best” is the easy way out for me. But focusing on the present and finding contentment in Christ alone? That’s a lot harder. That’s when I start to gaze at myself and wonder if I measure up.
Perhaps you can relate to the thoughts below, some of which are my own and others are what I’ve heard from friends:
If I'm not freelance writing and continuing my professional career, am I enough?
If I’m not blogging and sharing God’s Word publicly, am I enough?
If I’m not exercising regularly, am I enough?
If I’m still single and so desire to get married, am I enough?
If I’m struggling with infertility, am I enough?
If I’m living paycheck to paycheck, am I enough?
If I keep getting passed up for that promotion, am I enough?
If my relationships are on the rocks, am I enough?
If I don’t have enough saved for my kids’ college and my retirement, am I enough?
If I don’t know what God thinks about me, am I enough?
Friend, you are enough.
In Jesus, you are enough. Christianity is the only religion in the world that says you don’t have to do it all, you don’t have to check off all the boxes, because God already has. He is the perfect one, not you. He created you, purposefully and intentionally. You are precious in His sight. And He guarantees (yes, guarantees!) your salvation through your faith and His grace. Not through anything you’ve done or anything you feel.
And you were dead in the trespasses and sins in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the sons of disobedience— among whom we all once lived in the passions of our flesh, carrying out the desires of the bodya and the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind.
But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved— and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus.
For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them. (Ephesians 2:1-10)
I’m so thankful for God’s grace and for the reminder that I am enough, even when I don’t feel like it. That I can come to Him with all my burdens and worries and find rest (Matthew 11:28-30).
My prayer this year is to live more like Jesus. In the words of Kristi McLelland, I want to stare at God and only glance at myself. “He must increase, and I must decrease.” (John 3:30) Yes, yes, yes. Thank you, Father.
I'm Changing The Diet For My Mind
A version of this piece was originally published on verilymag.com. You can read all my articles for Verily here.
She’s engaged!
She’s having a baby!
Holy cow, her body bounced back so quickly.
She looks awesome in that bikini.
She ran a half-marathon; I can barely run two miles.
Wow, she cooked a gourmet “clean” dinner, whereas I ate a box of pasta.
I wish I could afford a Valentino dress and a Parisian vacation like her.
No, that’s not a back-and-forth between two girls in a chick-lit novel—that’s a sample of the running stream of thoughts that goes through my head as I scroll along in Instagram.
It starts out innocently enough. I open the app. I look at my feed, and then tap, tap, tap. The “search” page is too tempting to stay away from. The next thing I know, I’m looking at the past three months of my favorite fashion blogger’s outfits, or the entirely documented relationship of The Bachelor and his fiancée, or the wedding photos of a sorority sister whom I haven’t talked to in four years.
Then the comparison kicks in, the judgment statements become louder, and the self-doubt slowly spins its lies. A few minutes of mindless scrolling, and my head becomes a dangerous minefield ready to explode.
At least, that’s how it used to be.
Engaging in social media, blogging, building websites, and tracking all the latest happenings in the digital world are part of my job. And I love it. I really do. But recently I noticed how quickly I let myself get wrapped up in Instagram and Facebook and looking at other people’s lives.
Something that is supposed to be fun and easy became sneakily destructive.
My counselor is the one who brought it up. I had been telling her about my anxiety and how I tend to compare myself to other women—whether I know them or not. After talking about it with her, we both began to see how much my active digital presence contributed to this comparison complex.
She didn’t want me to drop social media entirely. As a writer, these platforms are helpful for me to build community and give me a place to share my work. But as someone who has struggled with body image and an eating disorder, what she did want for me to do is learn how to use social media in a healthy, life-giving way.
So my therapist challenged me to complete a mindfulness exercise: Write down every page I visit when clicking through the web, Instagram, or Facebook. Stop and write down each new page as I go along, and then take note if writing down the pages helped to curtail my browsing.
What was I clicking on? How fast was I moving to the next page, the next blog, the next Instagram image? Where did my thoughts wander when doing so?
I did this exercise for one day, and I was amazed at how much a bit of awareness changed my outlook. Employing mindfulness in my daily Web browsing not only made me more aware of what I was clicking on, but it also made me stop looking at pages and profiles that simply weren’t healthy for me.
I also looked at my iPhone battery settings to see exactly how many hours I spent on my phone—and how many hours I spent texting, going online, or pulling up Instagram. Let's just say those two-minute scrolling sessions to pass the time sure do add up.
How much time do I spend on social media, on websites, on things that ultimately do not matter? How much time do I spend on Jesus?
Too much and not enough.
So now I’m in the midst of what I call a mindful detox. Forget about detoxing with fruits and vegetables. I’m talking about a full-on detox for the soul. What I feed my brain and my heart is just as important as what I feed my stomach. I want to be healthy in mind, body, and soul.
I don’t need to see how a popular blogger got her “bikini body.” I don’t need to see the engagement photos of a sorority sister whom I haven’t talked to in years. And I most definitely do not need to see a lifestyle guru’s clean recipe whipped up to perfection in less than thirty minutes while I was eating delivery.
Looking at these snapshots is not an inherently bad thing. Oftentimes, doing so can be inspiring, encouraging, and exciting. Social media connects us and allows us to reach people, even befriend people, we otherwise would not have. But when I mindlessly tap from one image to the next, I stop seeing the images for what they are: bits of someone’s life put on display and usually made to look presentable and flattering. Instead, these tiny 4x4 images become larger than life and show a window into lives that somehow seem better than mine.
The first step for me was to take a look at who I’m following on social media. I’ve unfollowed accounts that just bring out my self-criticism and the accounts that don’t make me happy. I’ve begun to follow and prioritize accounts full of encouragement, real beauty, and honesty, and those are the ones I’d much rather look at anyway.
I’m also logging out more often and checking in way less. If I log out of the Instagram app, I’m a lot less likely to pull it up when I’m bored and wanting to waste time. By having to type in my password each time I want to check the app, I instantly have a built-in buffer that helps me ask why I’m logging in to begin with. I turned off all notifications, too, so that I get to control when I’m seeing who liked my photos or who tagged me. This, plus giving myself a time limit when I do log in, has helped me to start using Instagram—and all social media, really—in a much more conscious way.
Changing the media diet for my mind has led me to read actual books again. I was a voracious reader as a kid and teen, but in the past few years, books have taken a backseat to magazines, websites, blogs, and social media. I have to say, a little literature is quite nice once in a while. (I’m currently reading and highly recommend Brooklyn by Colm Tóibín.)
Reading the Bible doesn't hurt either. I started a "Bible In A Year" plan this January, and it has honestly changed my day-to-day perspective on life. It's helped me to root myself in the truth, in the things that never change because they're of God. Filtered photos, celebrity gossip, diet trends—they're always changing. But the Word and God Himself are forever constant.
The last part of this mindful detox: switching up the negative soundtrack in my head. At the advice of my counselor, I recorded a voice memo on my phone of myself—speaking positive, affirming, truthful thoughts. It’s something I can listen to in moments of insecurity and self-doubt. It might sound weird, and it kind of is. Yet it’s a way for me to listen to reality and remember the facts instead of relying on my ever-changing feelings.
I am smart, funny, beautiful, and loved. My Instagram feed and my Facebook profile have no bearing on any of those things. They have no bearing on my worth as a woman—and the profiles I view certainly do not. I get to be me, regardless of how many times I check my social media accounts, or what my abs look like compared to my friend from high school, or how my breakfast compares to Gwyneth Paltrow’s. I’m me, Maggie, and my identity rests in something much greater than my online presence. In a world consumed with likes and shares and page views, knowing that is immensely freeing. I'm praying for a continued focus on the things above and for a mind nourished by truth.
If you want to talk more about Jesus Christ and faith and what-the-heck-is-all-this-stuff, shoot me a message. I love meeting new people, whether virtually or in person, and gabbing about life.
And if you'd like to know more of my story, you can read my testimony here.
Truly, He makes beautiful things.