Hi!!

Well, I think I ran out of things to say over here.  Obviously. I've been blogging over at http://visitbetsysbest.blogspot.com/ if you want to join me there.  It's mostly about makeup-so far, anyway.  It's kind of my stress reliever, light and fluffy, nothing important to say, don't care if anyone reads it or not, blog. (You know, sort of like this one, only even more superficial.) ;-)

Lies

You are worthless.  No one really likes you.  People only pretend to be your friend.  You are unlovable.  You are unattractive.  You have no social skills.  You don't deserve happiness.  You are different, and everyone knows it.  You are awkward.  You aren't a good enough teacher.  You aren't a good wife or mother. You will end up alone.  You have no talent.  On and on it goes, over and over and over.

I've been having a tough time lately.  I've been listening to some lies about me, and I've been starting to believe them.  I know who's whispering those lies into my ear over and over.  But as much as I know I shouldn't believe the whisperer, because he's the father of lies, I was starting to internalize these untruths anyway. 

But no more.

I choose instead, to believe what God says about me.  Even though my brain wants to argue, to point out examples to prove the lies correct, I am choosing to belive TRUTH.

The creator of all things (Yeah, HIM!)

says that I am wonderfully and fearfully made.
I was created in HIS image, afterall.

He, GOD!, delights in me.  In me!!  Even as I am.  Even at my most UNdelightful, he loves me, like a loving father.  Do we love our kids any less when they misbehave? Of course not.  We correct them, we teach them the right way, but we still love them with ever fiber of our beings.  And God is infinitley more the loving parent than we could ever be.

He has had a plan for me, for my life, and has since before I was born.

He has put me where he wants me to be.  When I choose to see only what I perceive as my inadequacies, then I am denying the reality that God equips those He calls with what they need to serve the purpose He has for them.  But I can't rely on my strength alone.

I was made to serve a purpose that only I can fill.  I may not ever fully realize what it is, but if the giant web of God's plan is like a big puzzle, then there is a piece to that puzzle that is shapped exactly like me.

I AM different.  We all are.  God in his big-ness, made us all different.  Some are bubbly, chatty, extroverts who easily make friends wherever they go.  Others are more reserved and introverted.  I've fought all my life to accept who I am.  How God "programmed" me.  Why?

I make mistakes.  Lots of them.  I say and do ugly things sometimes. I'm far from perfect.  But God has given me grace.  Undeserved.  It never, ever COULD be earned.  He's already forgiven me.  For everything, past, present and future.  Washed me clean.  So, why do I feel the need to hang on to my guilt, wrapping it around me like a thick, ugly sweater? He's given me a new robe to wear.

No, I won't believe those lies, even when I think I have the evidence to back them up.  Because God says otherwise, and who am I to argue with Him?

Channeling My Inner Julia Sugarbaker

Dear Dude in the Pontiac Crossfire,

 You sped out of nowhere, cutting me off, as I was exciting the roundabout today. Then you demonstrated a severe lack of manners and good sense, by flashing me, the one who was wronged, an obscene gesture after I almost hit you. I suppose I should be angry that you would do such a rude thing to a nice, traffic law and roundabout etiquette observing lady, like myself. However, I find the situation rather sad, and somewhat amusing. Amusing, because, hello!, you are a dude driving a “chick car”. You must be quite embarrassed, and felt the need to assert your “masculine” side somehow. I find the situation sad, because you must have something missing in your life to cause you to behave like such an arrogant, scum-sucking larvae on the pimple of a dog’s butt. Did you not have good parental role models who taught you how to behave like a decent human being? Do you compare yourself to other men and come up lacking because you don’t know how real men are supposed to act? Was your mother not involved in your life, so you never learned the concept of respecting other people? I’m sorry, that’s so sad. Perhaps you should put down your Bluetooth earpiece, buy a pickup truck, or nice sedan, and get some therapy. Someday, someone’s husband might not take kindly to the fact that you flipped off his wife. He may chase you down in your little sports car wannabe and punch your sorry nose. Not being a real man and all, you wouldn’t know how to respond to that, and would probably crawl back into Barbie’s dream machine and cry. We wouldn’t want that to happen, so take this as a friendly warning, because I care about stupid jerks like you who are crying out for love and attention.

 Signed,

 

A Nice Lady