the real me is not the one who is kind and beautiful when i have time to prepare myself to be;
the real me is the ugly snarl that escapes my mouth when Daniel does or says something i don't like.
please don't call me 'mom' (of course i didn't hear that he was talking to JD)
i hate the budget (wow, just wow)
thanks for slamming the door in my face (do you really think he did?)
quit looking through my texts without telling me. leave my phone alone. (feel the love)
the real me is not the girl who gives hugs and hands kleenex and comforts during the tragedies that have happened this month;
the real me is what comes out
when i am at my weakest point, tried by people and circumstances that continually frustrate me.
the real me is what is inside my heart, not what i carefully choose to let out of my heart.
i wanna think that i can control myself, and in a way, i can, if i control my heart.
but when things happen out of my control,
when people are human and fail,
when people are mean and hurt,
when people are unthinking and jab a deep knife deeper
that little heart squeeze that happens reveals whats really inside, and it's not pretty.
i am humbled that God still loves me, that He still gives so much grace to my weak little ugly broken heart, that He doesn't give up, that He shows me my sin, that He gives
and new weeks
and new months
and new years.
thankful. . .
that He loves the real me enough to die
that He loves the real me enough to use the broken pieces of my life
that He loves the real me enough to reveal my pride and weakness
that He loves the real me enough to give me eternity and hope and a future.
He's kinda amazing like that.