maggie getz

I’m a deep feeler. I am sensitive. I am empathetic. I am conscientious. I feel things to my very core, and it can be very hard for me to simply brush things off. Although I don’t enjoy conflict, I do definitely place a high value on talking about feelings and allowing yourself to be vulnerable. Authentic. Transparent.

Those are such buzz words nowadays, and I’m on board. I am all for living an authentic life. Living a life full of confidence and conviction.

But what I don’t want to do is leave Jesus in the dust while I’m over here supposedly living my best life based on how I feel.

God gave us our emotions. God gave us our feelings, and He gave us them specifically for specific purposes. Sometimes that purpose is so we demonstrate mercy and grace, or so we share humility with others. And sometimes, those feelings show us our dire need for a Savior—our utter lostness without the anchor of Christ.

“We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.”

— Hebrews 6:19

I repeated those words in Hebrews to myself two weeks ago as I sat on the bathroom floor, hunched over the toilet, clutching the white porcelain and certain I would lose my marbles at any moment. I told myself that verse over and over again. I told myself that I could trust God.

You see, I absolutely hate throwing up. I mean, no one enjoys it, but I hate it. I get panicky when I feel nauseated, and typically when I am sick with some sort of digestive problem, I cry.

So in that moment, on the cold bathroom floor at 2 a.m., I cried out to God. I asked him to take away the pain. I asked him to heal me. And I finally relaxed enough to realize my body is going to do what it needs to do. If I needed to get sick, then that would be okay. I would be okay. God is still good.

After a good almost two hours of intense nausea like that, still nothing had happened. I crawled back to bed and eventually fell asleep. The next two days, I rested; I then went back to work and all seemed to be well.

Except eight days later, the same situation happened again.

I felt ready this time. I was somewhat scared but ready. I could do this. I would be okay.

And again, nothing.

I felt this intense pain, discomfort, and uneasiness. I spent half of the night awake on the bathroom floor trying to understand what was going on.

While I have a doctor’s appointment soon and am hopeful for some answers (Is it dairy? Is it gluten? Is it this new medication?), the fact of the matter remains: I don’t understand. I don’t understand, and I feel pretty darn crappy. These gastrointestinal issues have left me feeling fearful and in pain. I have even felt lonely and sad.

Why am I telling you about my GI issues in detail?

Because these uncomfortable moments and negative feelings have shown me my need to be totally reliant on Christ.

I cannot do this life alone. I cannot control everything, and I cannot base my faith on my feelings. There will be countless times in this life when I don’t feel well. Whether that’s due to an illness or medication, or because of a broken heart, loss, or longing, we will continue to not feel well in this lifetime.

If you do a Google search for “core feelings,” “basic emotions,” or something along those lines, you’ll find a few variations of the list developed by psychologists. The psych major in me loves this stuff, and I think this list of nine core feelings really gets to the heart:

Anger

Fear

Pain

Loneliness

Love

Passion

Joy

Guilt

Shame

These are feelings we will experience on a regular basis, even daily. Not might but will.

Not only do I feel physical pain and emotional fear from GI issues, but I feel some loneliness because I’m in a long-distance relationship. I also feel love and passion from that relationship. At the same time, I feel guilt and shame when I indulge in sin, when I turn away from God.

“We trust God because feelings are real, but they’re not reliable. He is unchanging. God sees you. God knows you. He’s calling out to you. God is who He says He is. What He says about you is true. He alone is reliable and able to rescue us. He is unchanging, and He is our deliverer.”

— Mason King, The Village Church

Frustration, sadness, embarrassment, regret, isolation—all feelings we’ll encounter on earth as humans.

Feelings cannot carry us through the struggles. Only faith can do that.

We serve a God who has felt every feeling as He walked this earth, fully man and fully God. Jesus was tempted in every way and yet sinless. He is perfect. Because of this, we know we can run to Him when we are tempted and when we feel these negative emotions.

“For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but One who has been tested in every way as we are, yet without sin. ”

— Hebrews 4:15

God is super specific in His Word about who we are. He gave us an identity, and we can stand in that truth even when we don’t feel like it. Even when we don’t feel as though as have an identity, or when we feel like the ways in which we define ourselves are crumbling. Because that's the thing:

If we place our true selves in our always feeling happy, then we will always come up empty.

We’ll be looking for our job, relationships, bank accounts, homes, and bodies to satisfy us. Except they never will.

Like impure dross being transformed into gold, we are going to be refined by fire. I expect that fire will come with difficult emotions.

Read through 1 Peter 1; you’ll see what I mean.

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. Because of his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead and into an inheritance that is imperishable,undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you. You are being guarded by God’s power through faith for a salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. You rejoice in this, even though now for a short time, if necessary, you suffer grief in various trials so that the proven character of your faith—more valuable than gold which, though perishable, is refined by fire—may result in praise, glory, and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ. Though you have not seen him, you love him; though not seeing him now, you believe in him, and you rejoice with inexpressible and glorious joy, because you are receiving the goal of your faith, the salvation of your souls.”

— 1 Peter 1:1-9

We will be tested. We won’t always feel good about that. But let us still rejoice! God gave us feelings. And they’re not all bad feelings. He gave us hope, peace, compassion, humility, love. He gave us all these feelings through His son, Jesus, and asked us to walk by faith.

I have to walk by faith even when I don’t feel like it. It’s the only way. Believe me, a lot of the times I just don’t feel like it! Living a life without God is easier. But I have a living hope and an assurance of salvation through faith in Christ alone. We are all offered that. When we cast our burdens onto God—no matter how big or how small—He will carry us through. Our feelings cannot dictate our faith. But when we walk by faith and ask for a spirit of rejoicing, the feelings will follow.

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.

So much in my life lately has been pointing me toward vulnerability, transparency, authenticity. If you’re a Millennial, you’re probably familiar with those of-the-moment cultural buzzwords, ones that mean being honest and up-front about your life. I already write this blog and would say I’m a pretty open book. But there are some topics that make me bristle. Some things I’d rather not touch with a ten-foot pole, no thank you.

Last week, I penned one of, if not my most, deeply personal article yet. Once my words hit the Internet, I began to question if I said too much. Did I cross the line from vulnerable to can’t-keep-my-mouth-shut? Did I give total strangers permission to get to know me without returning the favor? Did I need to learn to leave a little more mystery in my life?

I never want to be unsafe or reckless with the things I put on the Internet. Being extra conscientious about my public life is a wise move. It's why I don't really write about my location, my day job, or my boyfriend. But if I want to connect with other men and women, meet fellow writers, and one day write a book, then social media and an active digital presence are an important part of that process.

As soon as I let the doubting voices find a home in my head, I’ve let them win. I’ve given them the power to control what I do and what I say, and I’ve chipped away at an opportunity for my life to be used for good.

Because, here’s the thing: Our lives are being used every second of every day. We aren’t some random beings placed on this earth to live and die and be forgotten. God’s purpose for us is much greater than that.

God isn’t in the business of shame.

Those doubters? Shame is their territory. You see, shame is like a boa constrictor. It will creep up behind you, squeezing tighter and tighter until eventually it’s suffocating you.

I’ve spent countless hours stuck in the boa constrictor’s embrace. It’s not a fun place to be, let me tell you. It kept me from writing this blog for the longest time. I didn’t want to put all my mess front and center for people to judge. Even when I did start writing, I kept the blog to myself for a few months. I couldn’t bring myself to post on social media, to open myself up to more readers and viewers and thus more potential for judgment, criticism, assessment. What if they thought I was a terrible writer? What if they thought I was egotistical or self-centered? And what would I do if they saw that I wasn’t the perfect girl-next-door but rather a broken women in progress?

Well… then they would see it. They would see the brokenness, and I would be the same person. I would be okay.

I refuse to let doubt and shame run the show anymore. That super personal article I wrote has over 480 shares, plus countless others directly on Facebook and Twitter. It was the first time when, reading the comments section, I did not see a negative remark aimed my way. I was surprised by that, but I really think it is because people crave vulnerability. We are tired of the filters and veneers. We want what’s real.

My post-publication freakout was a prime example of the “vulnerability hangover” that researcher and best-selling author Brené Brown speaks of in her books and talks. If you haven’t watched her TED talk, I highly recommend it (it’s only 20 minutes!). I recently read her book The Gifts of Imperfection and am currently making my way through Rising Strong. She talks a lot about how we can embrace our vulnerabilities and imperfections, and live in a way that she calls “Wholehearted.” Doing so cultivates compassion, courage, connection. But it can be really, really hard for us to go there.

I allowed myself to be fully revealed—which can be seriously scary. As open as I am, I still fear being exposed. It’s much easier to make myself small and quiet. If I shrink back, I can’t be judged or shamed.

While there will almost always be people who try to shame us for our truth, we don’t have to feel ashamed. I was reminded by my pastor of Paul’s longing to visit Rome:

“For I am not ashamed of the gospel, because it is the power of God that brings salvation to everyone who believes, first to the Jew, then to the Gentile. For in the Gospel the righteousness of God is revealed—a righteousness that is by faith from first to last, just as it is written: ‘The righteous will live by faith.’”

— Romans 1:16-17

I wasn’t preaching the Gospel in my article. Yet I was talking in a way that I hope encourages others and shows them the power of God, the power of being unashamed. Paul’s a perfect example of that.

Paul gives me hope for continuing to share about my life and all God is doing in it. Sometimes, that will look like me sharing things that are so-not-put-together. I might share when I’m sad or angry, or when I’m feeling distant from Him. His work in my life is a process. For that, I’m grateful.

I came across the below quote from Marianne Williamson a year or two ago. A yoga instructor repeated it during class last week, surely not a coincidence. Marianne is right. We fear, at least I know I do. We fear being big even though we were made for more:

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.

We were created to be full and to be free. That’s what I’d like this little space of the Internet to be about—and that’s the life I plan on living.

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.