Someone Other Than Me

today i was feeling like i could care less about myself. i’m breaking out like a 16 year old (and i’m 32) and i’ve put on weight like you wouldn’t believe…i’m almost 190 and i’m 5’11”. i should be about 145 which is what my ‘healthy’ weight has been in the past. i’ve just stopped caring. i don’t shower all the time. i could care less when i do my laundry (and then i broke the washer, but that’s a story for another day).

anyway, all of this to say that i was dealing myself some pretty negative selftalk around lunch at work and i clicked on a link and read the following and thought ‘hum, thanks God for that….cause i know it was you’

On Kendal’s website entitled (aptly)a spacious place…she wrote a blog about desireing to be ‘er’…which she explains so eloquently in her blog. she talks about how scars are things that little boys are so proud of and when girls have none they start to imagine them…my nose is too big, my face is breaking out and looks ugly. where as boys often like the signs of a life well lived and think it gives them character, girls are forever being swayed to stay away from the ‘different’, being aware of all the things that are wrong with you and striving to make them different. all the while fruitlessly attempting to live up to the desire deemed ‘perfection’

she so poignantly states:

this desire to be er
is not a god idea
formed my inward parts
and knitted me together
when we stare ourselves down
wishing to be er
we are

and too me that last line says OUCH…and i get to thinking, who am I to think that God’s got it all wrong, that he made a mistake when he made me, that i’m not worth loving, caring about, worth looking at…that i’ve got worth, that i was created for a purpose and that all the devil wants is me sinking in my own mire, forgetting that i’ve saved, forgiven and there is a hand always reaching out to me and my Saviour always loving me (he knew me before I was formed and chose to LOVE me)



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