Turn Off a Broken Record
Usually, I love reading comments on my Facebook page. Most people are encouraging and insightful. But every now and then, someone is downright hateful. I know. What’s new, right? It’s no surprise that there are crazies on the Internet. And...
Usually, I love reading comments on my Facebook page. Most people are encouraging and insightful. But every now and then, someone is downright hateful.
I know. What’s new, right?
It’s no surprise that there are crazies on the Internet. And I’ve become more used to them over time. I’ve even learned to laugh them off (because most of the terrible comments are so ridiculous that they’re truly comical).
But a recent comment bugged me on a different level. It was a judgmental statement about me as a mother. This caught me by surprise and cut deeper than the others for several reasons:
First, as a new mom, your level of sensitivity goes through the roof. You have more emotions now than you ever knew possible and everything can feel like a personal attack. The Mom Guilt starts early and it comes on strong without any help from others.
Second, I’ve been a mom for all of about five minutes. So to read something hateful about my parenting choices so soon felt like a low blow.
And third, I have very little patience for judgment between women. I’ve written about this before in a blog post that was very near to my heart. It spread like crazy because it connected with the hearts of hundreds of thousands of other women also.
What happened after I read this hateful comment was something that’s happened many times in my life—and maybe it’s happened in yours.
I began to replay it in my head. Even after I closed out my web browser, there it was—repeating. As I washed clothes and folded them, it drowned out my thoughts. When I went for a run and turned on my music, it blared louder. It was like a broken record, and I couldn’t escape it.
What started as a ridiculous comment from a complete stranger turned into something the Enemy used to dig and dig and dig at me.
The statement taunted me by presenting itself as truth. My thoughts began to spiral downward without even realizing it. “AND you messed up on that yesterday. AND you still haven’t sent those thank-you notes. AND you’ve always been scatterbrained so you’re going to forget something huge that will harm your child. AND . . . AND . . . AND . . .”
It was relentless.
To find some relief from this mental boxing match, I remembered a question that I often ask to check my thoughts for validity. I held the accusatory comment up against this litmus test: “Is this what God says about me?”
Of course it was not. Immediately, the cycle was broken and I had taken back control of my thoughts. The truth was more powerful than the lie.
Even if no one is tearing you down on social media, maybe there’s a different broken record playing in your mind. Maybe it’s the way your coworker embarrassed you in front of your peers last week that’s still eating at you. Maybe it’s the passive aggressive comment from your mother-in-law that you’re stewing over. Or maybe it’s just an offensive statement from the person in the grocery store checkout line that you can’t let go of.
Whatever it is, turn off the broken record by asking yourself if this is what God says about you. Because I promise you, 100% of the time, anything that tears you down is not from God.
Instead, rest in the truth of what God does say about you: You are precious. You are honored. And you are loved.
“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;
I have summoned you by name; you are mine.
For I am the Lord your God,
the Holy One of Israel, your Savior . . .
Since you are precious and honored in my sight,
and because I love you.”
Isaiah 43: 1, 2–4
(abbreviated, emphasis mine)