Skip to main content

Fearfully and Wonderfully Made

As a teenager, I loved the Psalmist's words: "I will praise you for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. All your works are good; I know this full well." Every time I thought my nose was too big or my hair too blonde or not blonde enough or never combed the right way—you get the point—I would look in the mirror and remind myself that I was a work of the creator of the universe. Why is it that something so real to me during that time was eventually swept under the rug of my own insecurities? How did it lose meaning?

These words are alive and new within me today. For too long, I've been comparing myself with other people, making mental notes about how I measure up to their good qualities. I've kept lists of the traits I want to model in other people. Out shopping with my sister, I'd take one look at her and chastise myself for not always wearing matching shoes and belt. (Note to self: buy more belts.) I totally bought the line when my dear friend told me that even if you're going out to buy chewing gum, you needed to make sure you had on makeup and a perfect coif because you never knew who you'd run into. (Note to self: buy more ponytail holders.) After dinner at a friend's house, I'd feel guilty that my kitchen floor wasn't spotless—and I didn't have a three year old to chase around. (Note to self: buy a mop.)

I couldn't seem to get it right. And there's a good reason for that—that's not the way God created me. My synapses don't jump in those places. It gets even better: that's okay! You see, God knew just what He was doing all along. He created each of us to fit into His master plan. We're all pieces that are meant to work together. I don't have to be ashamed that I bought dog food today wearing a bandana over my ponytail, large hoop earrings, denim capris, flip flops, and a cardigan. (But I did have my mascara on!) I don't need to do the "walk of shame" on my way to the refrigerator. I'm not going to fight the tears the next time I see fish heads in the seafood department.

My soul is an artist. I'm late to appointments because I stop to soak in a ray of sunshine or laugh at quirky bumper sticker or talk to someone for too long. I don't like cluttered spaces (but a little dirt never hurts). Flowers make me smile. Old t.v. shows are my favorite comforter. I don't like potato chips or fruit (but I can never have enough peanut butter or cheese). I don't get lost even when I'm in unfamiliar territory. I feel deeply. I think way too much. Most people feel at home with me when we first meet. I love being on a stage. I doubt myself way too much. I'm extremely intelligent and have exceptional instincts. And there's so much more that makes my dear one roll his eyes!

This is such a freeing thought. I'm through wasting time trying to be something I'm not. It's time for all of us to raise the mantle and charge forward to change this whole "equality" nonsense that has pervaded our society. I finally found the ultimate equality today in realizing that I am truly unique...and only in celebrating that uniqueness will I be fully free.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Welcome 2010

This has been an interesting beginning to the new year. The evening began with a beer and air hockey challenge, which I handily lost. This was followed with some extreme go cart racing and more beer, a dinner that consisted of leftovers from one of my favorite South Carolina restaurants and homemade fried zucchini. And more beer. I saw "The Hangover" for the fourth time and laughed like an idiot. After the ball dropped in Times Square, I saw pieces of "Public Enemy" and finally crawled into bed around 2:00 a.m. and stayed there until 11:00 this morning. I spent today playing with a dog, watching college football, and hanging out with one of my current favorite people. I don't do the whole new year resolution thing. However, I do believe in taking a look at the lessons I've learned and the experiences that have unfolded for me in the previous year. Anyone who reads this blog can already figure out that my divorce, running, and dating again have greatly influe...

Trying to Keep It All Together

The title of this post is a bit of a misnomer. Just this morning I said, "I'm having a hard time getting it together right now." I'm in one of those periods when showing up is the best I can offer, and I can't even guarantee that. That said, I just popped on here to share that I'm struggling. I'm dealing with a lot of loss right now. Some of it is easy to spot. Some of it I've tucked away because it's either terribly painful or terribly embarrassing--at least to me. Some of it was inevitable. Some of it was a surprise. All of it rises up into the center of my chest and begs me to stop for a moment to acknowledge it. It's doing that right now even as I type this. I'm having a hard time getting it together right now.

Pardon the Interruption

It's 10:00. My race clothes are laying across the top of the dog crate. I've already consumed my all-natural sleep aid. The alarm is set for 4:45 in the morning. I should be sleeping, but my mind is spinning at an unnatural rate. Remember this poem ? The subject of that poem married just a few weeks ago, and I just finished looking through his wedding photos. It's a strange feeling. Not one of loss. Or Regret. Or even wistfulness. I'm thoroughly happy for both of them in a way that will seriously not make sense to most of the people I know. I suppose there will always be an odd sense of knowing in a situation like this. I know the feel of those lips. I've seen that look in his eyes. What I felt for him was real and pure and drives the feeling of satisfaction that is currently overwhelming me. I love knowing that he's in love--even if it's not with me. I even saved my favorite photo to my computer because the image stirred something in me that needs to be sti...