Don't Make Blueberries Lie

Uncategorized May 22, 2019

There they were, all propped up on their own little stand in the produce section, white plastic baskets filled with blueberries. Why, they looked as if they'd just come out of the field. Verily, the sign proclaimed LOCAL BLUEBERRIES.

Down at the bottom, at the very bottom of the sign was the truth: Fargo, GA. 

I'm thinking that was there not as a suggestion for a keen place to visit, but as a record of where these pretty little berries were from.

The only problem is that we were in Clemmons, NC, almost 500 miles from Fargo, GA. It would take me almost 8 hours to drive down there to pick them for myself. I don't know what local means to this produce manager, but to quote The Princess Bride, I don't think this word means what you think it means.

They made the blueberries lie to me.

I don't like being lied to. I don't like being told that these shoes are the only ones left in town when I just saw exactly the same pair in another store. I don't like being told that my call is important to them when obviously they don't care enough about my call to hire enough support people.

I really don't like it when people lie to me about things that matter. Like telling me they've got my back when in truth they are talking behind it. 

Part of the opportunity midlife presents to us is taking stock of the lies we've accepted. For whatever reason, you may have accepted a relationship that was far less than truthful because, well... it's not like he beats you. (That, I tell my clients, is having a very low bar.) Or continuing to fall for the Lucy holding the football lie that if you work really hard you're going to get that promotion, even though you've been working hard for the last five years and the promotion has always gone to someone else. 

There's another kind of lie that keeps us up at night and restless during the day. It's the lies we've told ourselves.

Like the lie you've told yourself that it really didn't hurt, even though you just want to cry. The lie is that you don't have the right to feel hurt and you have no cause to cry.

The lie that your dreams are silly. Maybe you really ARE too old to be the youngest graduate from MIT, but the essence of that dream is still there. Maybe it's a dream of learning new things, or the dream of being challenged to do what you weren't at all sure you could do.

The lie that you don't matter. Or that your life doesn't matter. Some people's lives matter in the ways that get written about in history books. Some people's lives matter in ways that are known to only a grateful few.  

You matter. You are God's beloved child, and it doesn't get much more important than that. What you think about matters. What you feel matters. What you dream matters. What you do matters.

It's easy to forget it in our twenties and thirties when we're too busy  measuring ourselves by everyone else's milestones. 

The gift of it , however, doesn't go away for our neglect. God opens up that overstocked closet where you stowed away everything that was inconvenient or scary or troublesome. God opens up the door and roots around in the back before handing you the gift again. It's a little worn around the edges for having been hidden away for so long but once you peel away the wrapping you catch your breath with the beauty of it.

That's you. That beautiful, beloved child of God is you.

Don't let anyone tell you different.

You matter.

Don't let anyone tell you different.

Don't make those blueberries lie.

For many of us the task at midlife is reconnection - reconnecting with our own hearts and voices and dreams. You don't have to do that alone.

Join us in the Good life @ Midlife - a place for you to reconnect with your heart, rediscover your voice and dare new dreams. May 25-31 you can join at the Founders rate - 50% off the monthly rate for as long as you're a member. Find out what it's all about here.





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