self-worth – all our lemmony things

I believe in the power of words.

Very, very much so.

All my life it’s been one of my strongest beliefs along with one of my greatest loves.

Maybe it started back when I finished my first Steinbeck novel and felt like somewhere deep inside of me, the fictional characters had changed me. Or when I first watched Martin Luther King Jr. give a speech with eyes of fire and a voice that quivered with raw emotion. Maybe it was the first time I was made fun of for my weight back in middle school and those words made me wrap a sweatshirt around my waist for a week afterward. Or perhaps it was the time when I was struggling with math homework and my Dad simply said, “You are SO smart, Kayla!” And I aced the assignment like no one’s business.

Honestly, who knows? It could have been a multitude of things. But I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t completely aware of the strength of words and how the spoken–or written–word can literally change things and create things. But with that said, being aware of something doesn’t mean I’m always on top of my game with it. In fact, it’s a struggle for me.

And it might be for you.

From what I’ve seen, it’s one of humanity’s greatest struggles and greatest downfalls.

By nature I can be slightly *depending on the day*– cynical. And it can be a little too easy for me to slip into negativity. You wouldn’t know it by knowing me that I deliberately say “It’s going to be a good day” every morning that I step into the bathroom to get ready to combat pesky worries, stresses, and the never-ending to-do list. I often write lists that count my blessings and say things I don’t quite believe at the time but WANT to believe, so I’ll say it anyway and build faith in it. I consciously have to work at staying positive when the day looks like anything but.

I’m not saying my life is horrible because it certainly isn’t in the least bit. But perspective is everything. And it’s something that I–and I feel so many others– are lacking at times when the winds start to blow and the negative thoughts attack us about our bodies, our finances, our families, our work, our faith.

There’s power in words–so why do we use choose to use them so loosely?

One of my district managers sat down beside me at a company dinner the other night and said something that really made me self-reflect. “We live in a world where we constantly say what things aren’t,” he said. “We talk about everything we’re not even when we don’t mean to. The way we word things, even random sentences, are often so negatively worded, and believe it or not it has a negative effect on our attitudes, our relationships–our entire life.”

It couldn’t be more true. Since talking to him I’ve really noticed how prevalent it is.

How many times do we hear “Not bad” when someone could say “I’m great!” instead. How many times do we say, “I don’t want to fail” instead of “I want to succeed”, or “I don’t think it’ll work” instead of “Who knows? This might work”. Our sentences in today’s culture and world are straying from the affirmative and becoming a wash of reminders of everything that hasn’t happened, everything that we don’t have, everything that we aren’t. We constantly measure ourselves against expectations in our minds, magazine spreads, fears, insecurities stirred by the negativity of others, and those around us who happen to measure us right back. But why do we do it?

Because we forget who we are.

We forget the power we hold in our minds and in our words. We forget we’re powerful beings who can create our lives–or ultimately destroy them.

The words you speak, I once heard someone say, become the house you live in.

And too often, I think, our houses crumble.

“Write,” my grandma used to say when I would scribble stories in my notebook, my short legs not hitting the floor quite yet. “Write beautiful words so you can create beautiful new worlds to go to.”

Now looking back on that I realize the truth of those words can go a step further even.

Write. Or sing. Or speak aloud beautiful words so you can then create your beautiful world.

It really is that easy.

I read a little sign hanging in a window just the other day that really got me thinking.

It simply asked, “Can you remember who you were before the world told you who you should be?” If my research serves me correctly, that’s a quote from Danielle LaPorte.

I’ve been thinking about that question a lot lately.

Maybe it’s because just this last Sunday my baby nephew had his baby blessing during church service. With heads bowed we joined in prayer as his Daddy blessed him.

Dressed in an adorable white little outfit and looking out at us with wide blue eyes, the quote came to me once more. Simply because my nephew had just come from God’s presence. He had no biases, no strong opinions on worldly matters. He had no conditioned ideas of himself brought on by teasing classmates or snide co-workers yet. He hadn’t yet looked in the mirror, making assumptions about what people saw. He’s new. Untouched by the world–and untaught by it.

But in time, he’ll grow. Just like we all do. And that’s definitely not a bad thing.

It wasn’t Heavenly Father’s plan to keep us in a tiny shell, unable to form words or beliefs. It’s His plan for us to grow, hit bumps in the road that bruise our knees, possibly grow so old until we wrinkle and smile without teeth, and to find joy in relationships that come along, and in hard work and sacrifice. And it’s also His plan for us to slowly remember who we are again and where we come from as we turn our minds to Him, so the giant circle can be completed and we can return to where my baby nephew just came from.

Too many times I want to forget the past because it’s painful. Because *I know this all too well* I messed up. I fall into the thinking of, ‘Well, it doesn’t really matter about then, it only matters who I am now.’ But if I take it back even further than that–I won’t find mistakes or missed curfews or those awkward middle school haircuts *yeesh* or those heartbreaking teenage years–if I take it back far enough, I’ll remember my divine heritage. I’ll remember I’m a daughter of a King and that I was sent here at a very particular time to fulfill my callings. It really DOES matter where I come from.

Because the world will tell you it doesn’t.

The world, just like it will to my nephew eventually, will tell you that you shouldn’t be an artist because artists don’t make enough money. The world will tell you you’re fat when you see the stretch marks across your stomach that gave you your children. The world will tell you that you’re a nerd just because you’re extremely good with computers. It’ll tell you that you’re not very good at making friends so it’s better to just sit alone. It’ll tell you that with all the mistakes you’ve made, there’s no coming back now.

The world will lie.

I think back to days like these–this was my third grade class. (I’m the one with the thick brown bangs and my hands up…I know. Yikes.)

We grew up together and eventually graduated together. I think back to the innocence that didn’t sort us into groups of “cool” “uncool” “smart” or “awkward”. It was a time when we didn’t let the world whisper into our ears and teach us about what makes someone pretty or successful or worth listening to. We were just kids–who somehow, deep inside–still remembered our divine worth.

And I think we can still remember now, even neck-deep in the sludge of words and scars and perceptions and false lessons. We get glimpses when we read our scriptures or fall on our knees to pray or hold our children. We have glimpses of memory that sustain us.

And I think that once we get a good grasp *even if it’s simply by faith* on where we’ve come from and who we really truly are–that’s when we’ll remember where we’re going.

And at that point–the world won’t be able to teach you any different.

Tag: self-worth

Everything you’re not: And why it keeps getting in the way

It really does matter where you come from