*A note before you read this. After doing an audit of my blog in 2022, I have decided to leave content that speaks to the Christian I was at the time this was written. I no longer identify as Christian (and haven’t for a very long time.) I chose to leave these posts because it is who I was then and it is important to me to be honest and true with every iteration and evolution of self that I experience. I may decide to add comments to the end of posts like this as well.
I started this on May 18th and now here it is June 2 and this is the second time I’ve logged on. Great. Chalk up another failure at being diligent.
I seem to have a problem with that. In all areas of my life. I try so hard to do things on a schedule. It seems that either I’m terribly disobedient or God just didn’t make me that way.
I hear them talk. “I get up EVERY morning at 6am, have coffee, read my Bible, pray, get the kids up at 7:30, make them breakfast…blah, blah, blah”
I see their houses. They never have dishes in the sink. The laundry is always washed, dried, folded, AND put away. Oh, and ironed and hung in the closet, organized by season and sub organized by color. There are never white spots on their bathroom mirrors and there is not a trace of dust on the shelves or mold in the leftovers.
Their cars are washed and waxed and the inside is like brand new. No crumbs or old fries anywhere.
They are always showered, dressed, hair done and makeup perfect. They have already exercised at the gym and dinner is on the table by 6.
For a very long time I wondered what was wrong with me. I got depressed because I couldn’t be *them* I sulked and I loathed people coming to my house. I would spend hours staring at the daunting tasks in front of me and I’d hide away in the world wide web so I didn’t have to think about what a loser I was. And I really thought I was a loser who had no hope of being the super-wife-mom that *they* are.
I gave up hope and gave up my dreams of being something I settled for just trying to get by. I stopped talking to *them* because they were always so perfect it was sickening.
Then God had a little talk with me.
God’s talks are sometimes very long. Well, he told me that He loved me the way I was. I really didn’t believe Him though. For a long time, He tried to convince me that He loved me anyway. I thought He was pulling the wool over my eyes. I ignored Him a lot. (By the way, He doesn’t like that much!)
I’m starting to understand by way of His faithfulness that He’s not blowing smoke. He really, truly does love me. ME. Michelle. This SO not perfect woman.
For it was You who created my inward parts; You knit me together in my mother’s womb. I will praise You, because I have been remarkably and wonderfully made. Your works are wonderful, and I know [this] very well. My bones were not hidden from You when I was made in secret, when I was formed in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw me when I was formless; all [my] days were written in Your book and planned before a single one of them began.
He created me to be me. Not them. I have what I have and I do what I do because he knit me together in my mother’s womb. His eyes saw me when I was formless. Without shape. When I wasn’t there. Chew on that awhile. God saw me when I wasn’t even there.
AND…all my days were written in His book and PLANNED before a single one of them began. He knows. He knows I don’t know how to fully trust Him. He knows I’m not perfect. He knows what I struggle with. He knows the things that bring me untold joy and He gives them to me, even in my imperfection. He actually wants to be with me. He gets joy from me when I’m obedient. He watches me sleep just as I watch my son sleep. How humbling it is to think that as he watches my slumber a tear runs down His Almighty face.