I’m intrigued by the conditioning our surroundings have on our consciences and I’m bent on finding the will of God for His people without bias, culture, or upbringing, but only God’s word as expressed in the Bible.
I’m watching kids raised in a Muslim family become staunch muslims.
Children raised in Amish homes think it’s wrong to buy and drive a car.
On the other hand, some kids raised in a post modern, leftist society are changing their genders, wearing fake tails to identify as furries, and wanting litter boxes in bathrooms. The voices they hear call them to tune into feelings they feel, which we all know can run unbridled and perverted.
What a vast difference in each child’s story! And every child has a voice in his head, a story he tells himself, largely based on what he’s been told, who he’s been around, and how things functioned in his life from toddler to teen.
The stories we tell ourselves affect our relationships, our families, our marriages, and our walks with God.
We can choose to absorb voices from the people around us, from our families, from our spouses, or from God.
If we’re fortunate, those we’re around will only bring us truth—but most people in this world are conditioned to believe something rather than taught to choose what is true. Muslim parents raise muslim children, Amish parents raise Amish children, and if we’re not careful our post modern society will turn out an entire army of mothers who are no longer grounded in Biblical values.
The stories we tell ourselves become the voices our children hear.
1. A mother who’s been hurt in marriage can carry bitterness toward men. The voice her daughters hear will be “Men are awful and cannot be trusted.”
If this mother is wise, she will choose truth instead. Every day, she will rewire her brain to accept truth over betrayal, love over bitterness, and forgiveness over hate. The story in her own mind will change, and the voice her daughters absorb will be, “There are really great men in this world and we respect them, are thankful for them, and trust them.”
2. A mother living near Hollywood can carry undue pressure to measure up to a fake, plastic society where value is based on looks. The voices her daughters hear will be “I better look a certain way if I want to be loved and accepted.”
A wise woman invites other voices into her home, perhaps by putting sticky notes on mirrors with “Charm is deceptive and beauty is vain, but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.” (Proverbs 31:30, ESV)
The story she tells herself will be true, lasting, and sustaining. Her daughters will see that it’s okay to run out the door without mascara, that staying healthy is more important than having a perfectly shaped body, and that value goes far, far deeper than fake beauty. Voices of society will fade into the background while God’s voice becomes stronger.
3. A woman who’s been hurt by others can carry a story of rejection. Every potential encounter for love or friendship is cast by a shadow of pending pain rather than an open door for meaningful companionship and love. The story in her head has a title, and she is convinced that the day’s chapter will be written as before.
The voice her daughters hear will be, “Life is dangerous, people can’t be trusted, and everyone will betray you.”
This woman will raise daughters whose chief goal in life is to protect themselves rather than allow themselves to be protected.
The story in a mother’s head can raise daughters who are snarky, feministic, and brash—but underneath, the attitudes others label as ugly are only valiant internal efforts to ward off a world that has been labeled “Pain” by the story their mother has written, which in turn has created those voices in her daughter’s head.
Call it PTSD, trauma, upbringing, culture, family, or the way your spouse is or is not—there are reasons people behave the way they do and accept voices that are entirely false over the One Voice that is always true, healing, loving, and good.
I want us to see that we can rewire our brains to live in goodness and truth, that we can tell a better story than the one life wrote for us, that we can shift the narrative and bless the following generation by voicing so much more.
“Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.” (Philippians 4:8, ESV)
As always, God gives us tools to understand what’s going on so we can change into His way. Neuroplasticity is our brain’s ability to change, forming new neural pathways as we put in effort by focusing our attention on goodness rather than what’s happened to us. As we do this, we open our hearts to love rather than close them off in self-protection.
Of course, part of overcoming pain is processing it first. By acknowledging pain we work through it, even if it takes years. I’m not talking denial–I’m talking an identity based off past things that cast a story we are not willing to rewrite because we remain stuck in darkness.
When we are willing to honestly own our hurts, we can authentically move toward better. Whether that takes a little time or a long while is not someone else’s job to say–the only thing we need to focus on is that somewhere, somehow, there is goodness, and that goodness will have the final say in our lives. We move from a state of rejection into a state of love and belonging.
The friend we thought would reject us ends up loving us because we are full of truth, able to accept her, create warm spaces for her, and enjoy her company. In response, our brain literally creates a new neurological pathway largely on its own, merely by absorbing and responding to a good experience.
But—and here’s the important thing to remember—we have to put effort into thinking things that are true. I’ve never encountered something so difficult, yet so life changing. I could be living life happily when something reminded me of past trauma—and in no time at all, my stomach seized up with nausea and my entire body/brain went into flight/panic mode.
In those instances, I could choose two things.
1. I could run from whatever and whoever was (very innocently) triggering past trauma. I could keep myself in a safe, but lonely place in the world where no one could come close enough to hurt me.
2. Or, I could pause, take note of the nausea, remind myself that the people of today are not the people of the past, put the plate of food down, eat some crackers, chocolate cake or whatever helps the nausea, then spend the next few days praying, calling a mentor, and doing some very, very hard work of bringing my mind and body under control and in subjection to reality.
Then, I can choose to nurture relationships with those who disagree with me, those I want to run from, or those I feel threatened by. The over-arching genre of my life can be health, inviting others to enjoy it with me. As I push the demons of panic/betrayal aside for the angels of love/belonging, my life changes, changes, and changes some more.
The stories we tell ourselves are the voices others hear. So, if you’re in a lonely place of life, ask yourself what others are hearing when they’re in your vicinity. Are you inviting them into life or casting a shadow of death and misery?
Our past is no excuse to ruin the present for ourselves or anyone else.
We can keep telling ourselves that the story of the past is the story of the present, but this means pain has a greater word than healing. This means the Voice on the cross that said, “It is finished!” is of no use because we insist on looking back into the very thing He came to crucify—both our sin and the sins of those who hurt us.
He died for BOTH.
And this is the reason, mothers and wives, why the story of the cross overpowers the story of our lives, and why the Voice on the cross changes every tone and meaning of the voice in our head. From life experiences to feelings of inadequacy as a mother to allowing culture determine our thoughts rather than God’s word, the stories we tell ourselves become the theme of our voice.
Wise women speak life, healing, truth, and love. They love and are able to be loved. Somehow, eternity begins here and now with the God of the ages speaking His verdict, His voice, His heart over us. And we accept, sometimes in doubt, sometimes hesitantly–but the deeper our acceptance of His love, the more radically our stories change into voices our children were always meant to hear.
May the stories we tell ourselves line up to the Voice of the One Who wants to liberate our body, soul, and spirit.
Love Always,
Sara
Women of Purpose 