Breaking Open In Midlife

I recently heard faith-forward leader and minister, Krysten Lamb, admit that she didn’t feel confident leading people in prayer. If you had been sitting in that workshop, you would have been just as surprised as I was because her voice is powerful! Her faith comes shining through every word and she leaves people so inspired that even a non-churchgoer like me wanted to stand up and shout “Amen!”

How could she have ever doubted her ability to lead people in prayer?! While it felt absurd in the moment, as I watched heads nodding and faces lighting up, later I thought about how common it is for people to be blind to their own gifts.

Sometimes our gifts come so naturally to us that we don’t realize the effort it would take for others to do what we do. Sometimes we’re so focused on skills that lead to results, that we don’t recognize the power we have simply in our presence. Sometimes our attention is drawn so closely to our weaknesses that strengths feel like a foreign concept.

Lately though, I’ve noticed a more pervasive issue keeping people from seeing their own gifts - an unconscious fear of their own power. A fear that if we let that strength inside us really shine, it will alter the nature of our relationships.

Most of us are led to believe we were too ____ at some point in our lives. Too much, too bold, too soft, too wild... Whatever word you choose to fill in that blank, there’s likely a clue to a raw, natural gift. With luck, patience, and guidance, maybe you learned how to hone that gift. With scolding, harsh looks and disapproval, maybe you learned your gift was more of a curse.

Direct – that’s one way I’d fill in that blank. My family jokes about me coming out of the womb loud and assertive. A three-year old speaking her mind was cute, even funny. But the older I got the less cute that trait became. I could tell that my voice was often unwelcome. I learned I needed to sit back and wait. To say things more gently, or to not say anything at all.

Let me be clear – this isn’t necessarily a bad thing. I learned to soften my edges so that others would be able to hear what I said, not how I said it. And I was fortunate to come across people who recognized the power in my words and encouraged me to speak up. That’s how life teaches us – a series of interactions to navigate, at times messy and unpleasant, and at others supportive and empowering.

It’s not until recently that I’ve really come to see the hidden lessons I received along the way. With each reminder to soften my voice, I learned that my perspective was not as important as other people’s comfort. When I stood firm in my beliefs and refused to soften, I saw that the power in my words made people step back in shock, upset or anger. Rather than endangering my relationships, I began to acquiesce to their comfort more often than not. Eventually, my own voice became the stranger, the ostracized one.

Now, already in my mid-40s, I’m starting to reacquaint myself with my voice and to tap into the power within it. I’m leaning into the faith that I’ve built solid relationships that will withstand my “new” way of being. And I’m trusting that the ones that disappear are no longer meant for me.

I love gem and mineral shows, seeing the fascinating colors and configurations hidden within what appears like an ordinary rock on the outside. Our strengths come out much the same way – rough and raw.

If we catch a glimpse of something valuable inside that rock, we may learn to wash away the grime and chisel through the outer layer. To smooth the rough edges and to polish what remains so that beautiful crystals hidden within can be seen.

That takes time, intentionality, and focus. And while our strengths are still rough and raw, they rarely shine with their potential splendor. Our attempts to use these gifts fall short from poor timing, a lack of words to express ourselves, emotions that overshadow our intentions... Sometimes we may even wield our gifts like weapons, cutting off our own power at the knees.

The backlash from those missteps is what makes us fearful of our own power. We see how other people react to our partially polished strengths and decide to limit what we show the world. The power of our God-given, natural talents can be so immense that they feel unsafe; a liability that threatens the relationships we’ve built and the persona we’ve crafted. We may take those half-polished stones, crystals barely visible, and toss them into a box where we shove all the unpleasant parts of ourselves that we’d rather not look at.

Eventually, though, our hidden strengths reappear. We move that box and the bottom falls open. Those stones fall to the ground. They crack. And we remember the brilliance waiting inside us.

Back to listening to Krysten speak in her workshop about moving forward in life with faith: as a young girl, she felt the pull towards a life of ministry. But she learned that she was too different than other ministers, and that she should conform to be more like the amazing women around her. She let the dream of ministry go, tucking away her gift for being a walking embodiment of faith. Until one day when she cracked open under the weight of living a life that wasn’t fully hers.

People might have seen her and labeled this a breakdown. If she had bought into that label, she may have felt broken. Instead, she saw that glimmer of a crystal, that sparkle, that reminder of her inner spirit. She picked up the fragments of stone, saw the gifts waiting for her, and set to liberating her true power. I’ve known her for years and to see her shine now is a wonder.

As I go through my own similar process, polishing my voice through writing and speaking, I have to trust that there’s power in my words. It’s a grind. I catch myself wondering What would so-and-so think about...? How will people feel when I...? Will anyone ever speak to me again if I say...?

But at this stage of life, silencing myself is a choice I’m not willing to make. I keep turning my eyes back to the crystals I’ve rediscovered in my soul. I keep reminding myself that the most powerful force holding me back is me. I keep having faith that as I polish my voice, I put something beautiful and life-affirming into the world, no matter how pointed and sharp my truth may be. And, I keep imagining what’s possible when more people like Krysten and I continue to polish our gifts and step into our true power.

Oh, the sparkles I see in our future…