The Real Me

I'm just going to start this by being COMPLETELY and TOTALLY honest: friends, I am one hot mess. 

And I'm not saying that to be funny. I mean it. I am a total mess 100% of the time. Just ask my father. He likes to video call me in the morning, middle of the day, and evenings. Here's what he always starts with: "Um...WHAT is going on with your hair?!"

It's a mess. I'm a mess. My life is a mess.

I used to be really ashamed of my messy life.

Especially when I found myself yelling (in a nice way) to MY people, "LISTEN, I CARRY THE WEIGHT OF THE WORLD ON MY SHOULDERS DAILY. PLEASE HELP ME! I CAN'T DO IT ALL ALONE."

It was stupid to feel ashamed that I was asking for help.

And I should never be ashamed of not having it altogether.

Because MY people are always supportive.

It's me that always has to lose it. Especially when my husband asks me for the umpteenth where his shoes are. I have to use every muscle in my body not to roll my eyes.

Because his shoes are always, without fail, in one of two places:

1. Under the couch. (Don't. Ask.)
2. Near the trash can. (Really. Don't. Ask.)

Here's how I always respond, "Honey (in that I'm-pretending-I'm-not-annoyed voice), they are either under the couch or near the trash can."

He gives me a wink. "Oh, that's right."

Listen, we're both sinners. We've accepted that. On occasion, I'm allowed to wonder how a grown man as smart and talented as my husband is can't seem to remember where his shoes are. And he hates when I try to make the sound of a cop car (woop, woop) EVERY TIME we pass by an ambulance or emergency vehicle.

So...I guess that makes us sinners saved by grace whose marriage is solidly founded on Christ. Because if we're being honest, Jesus is the only reason our marriage is strong. #truth

When other people make my life a little harder than it has to be, I simply do my best to keep my big, fat mouth shut. Sometimes, I don't have a filter. I just let my mouth open and hope the words come out O.K. Sometimes they do; most of the time they don't.

I can really make a person hate me in two seconds flat.

Because I have an opinion that differs from theirs. (On a somewhat related side note: people can't handle differing opinions anymore. What is up with that? Why can't we all agree to just disagree? Hatred solves nothing. Hating me because I think differently than you SOLVES NOTHING. Disagreements are great! They show us that we're all individuals who can THINK for OURSELVES. Friends, I love different opinions. I love your opinions, I do! I just don't love when you hate mine and then hate me because of it.)

Because I'm a terrible secret keeper if you don't tell me that what you told me about so-and-so is a secret. I'm an open book. My life is an open book. If your life is a secret book, PLEASE DISCLOSE. I'm serious. I can't tell whose life is open and who's is not. Maybe I should just assume everyone is secretive. That would probably save me a lot of time and heartache. I'll work on that.

Because I talk too much. I cannot shut it. Ever. My mother had a long conversation with me (like four months ago) where she explained (in the nicest way possible) that I don't have to fill every waking moment with words. When I attempted to persuade her otherwise with my many words, she finally said, "You dominate EVERY conversation. Stop that." I've made no progress, but I'm still working on it.

Because I really want to try with people. I mean, I really like people and I like to be around them. I'm like a really excited dog that jumps on everyone. I just like seeing people. It's like: "Hey, I'm glad I ran into you. You're the best. Let's be best friends?" Sometimes it works out; sometimes it doesn't. I have to learn to let it go. I'm not everyone's cup of tea.

But I am Jesus' cup of tea.

He loves me. My solid beliefs, my big mouth, my many words and my awkward attempts to love on people. He loves it all.

He loves the mess.

He loves the real me.

The me that no one sees because you can't see my good intentions or thoughts. You can't see the quiet work I do when no one is around. You can't see the prayers I pray for you.

You just see me and my awkward actions.

There is no show.

There is no pretending going on.

Who I am in front of you, who I present myself to be, is who I am all the time. Maybe a little less grumpy. But that's because when I'm grumpy, I don't like to leave my house. I just like to sit quietly, read and have a cup of warm tea. That always makes my grumpy-ness turn into happy-ness.

I know that I will go my whole life with critics and people who feel the need to judge me and my every choice. And that's O.K.

But before you write me off, please remember I'm only human. No, that is not an excuse. It just means I'm going to mess up because I'm not perfect. I have to remind myself of this often. Because no matter how many judgments you make against me, I can guarantee you that my worst critic is me.

You can't do that! You have no talent.

Don't wear that outfit. You know those girls will stare and then turn around and whisper about you.

You're not seriously posting that, are you? People don't care. Or they do care and they'll rip you apart.

I'm cruel to myself sometimes. You may judge me based on my looks, my clothes, my faith, my humor, my _________ (you fill in the blank). Just remember: I judged myself first. And while I was busy hating on myself, Jesus reminded me that I am His. He loves me. Every weakness. Every failure. Every bad choice. He loves me.

My life is a mess, but my Savior has it all together.

And when I'm failing, I know I can turn to the only thing in my life I will always get right: my faith. Because without faith, there is no me. There are no good intentions. There is no happiness when meeting strangers. Every good part of me is a result of what God has done in my life over the last 14 years.

The real me is quite easy to describe: I am a mess. But this mess is dearly loved by the Creator of all things. And that means that my messy-ness has a purpose. 

I have a purpose. 

That's the real me.