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)


Can’t Have A Redo, But We Get A Restart

“Even yet, thirty-seven years later, I’m still working on becoming fully ME. Isn’t it easy to slip and slide on that? How many smokescreens do we create on a daily basis that dilute who we really are? I know I’ve done it. Don’t we continue to work endlessly hard at BECOMING something? Anything? Living up to what others want us to be, need us to be, expect us to be and less of what He wants us to be?  (*raising hand* ) What’s even harder is doing that while not hurting anyone or disappointing anyone AND while still not sacrificing anything truly genuine. Eeeesh, that’s some hard math. I don’t think it happens all at once… I think it happens daily, when we wake up and choose it. Killing, slice by slice,  the forgeries and the reproductions long enough to realize that the only one who REALLY sees, is Him anyway. That doesn’t mean we stop trying it just means we adjust where our priorities are. I used to REALLY be a people pleaser. I’ve recently let go of that (sorta) and made it a daily focus to let others’ know what I need, because before, I just morphed myself into what others’ needed ME to be.

So, for the rest of my little tiny life, on this little tiny planet … whatever amount of time that may be, I’m desperately trying to be a better person. I can’t have a redo. But I get to have a restart. Everyday is a restart, but I deeply hope I don’t need  a daily restart. I kinda hope I take a few things with me each day from the day before it. With that choice, I get to be selective. Not in a non-inclusion, secret club, “what’s the password”, kinda way … but in a “hey, I only have so many days left, what am I going to do with them and who am I going to do them with?” kinda way. I think everyone who goes through some sort of smack in the face with mortality asks themselves what they want to cram in. Mine is coming on now. Slowly… and not in a non-realistic way, but more of a pragmatic, literal and straight-forward kind of way.

so many true words from a lady fighting against ovarian cancer…and sharing the deepness of her heart and her journey.