I was just scrolling past some old documents and reading things I have written throughout this year that I haven’t shared with anyone. Then I found this one that made my spirit jump telling me to post it. But I don’t want to. It’s real. It’s raw. It’s vulnerable. It opens up a road inside my head that I don’t let hardly anyone ever see because I’m way too fearful.
But God says, “do not be afraid” 365 times in the Bible, one for each day. So I’m using today’s “do not be afraid” command on this right here.
Some of it’s true, but it’s funny now how looking back on it, I can see how infested it is with lies. But through it all, it shows me my need for grace and an even deeper beauty of the cross. I hope somehow today my vulnerability can help someone else be set free and recognize their own lies in their minds that they allow guide them, and instead declare the truths that I found God spoke over me, and will speak over you too.
March 31, 2019
I hate being imperfect
I hate all the repercussions that come from being imperfect
I hate that I make mistakes that hurt others
I hate that out of my imperfections I lead people away from Christ
I hate that my imperfect emotions and imperfect thoughts lead me in imperfect actions
I hate admitting I’m imperfect and allowing that to be a reality
I hate that my perfect mask isn’t real
Being imperfect is not easy
Being imperfect is painful
Not only am I worried what others think of me
I’m more worried of what I think of me
I’m the meanest, rudest, most judgemental of them all to myself
If I think this poorly of myself, surely others do too.
And I can’t think good of myself, because then I’m just fooling myself
Others definitely don’t honestly think good or highly of me
How could they? I’m always causing a mess and hurting them
One mishap leads them astray.
My mistakes cause so much destruction
It was just a mistake… it wasn’t supposed to happen.
My need for grace.
It’s clealry so big
My need for forgiveness
It’s clearly constant
My need for perfection
Is clearly impossible.
But the one who is perfect lives inside of me
I don’t even want people to see me because I’m ashamed of the real me
So I pray when others see me that they don’t actually see me
But that they would see him through me
Yes I want him to be seen, he’s all that matters
But I also have a small part of me
Who just can’t stand the idea of someone actually getting a peak of the real me
Who could love me anyway
Thankfully he does
But why is that not enough for me?
He should be my everything
But I feel comforted for only a mere second
And lose all my peace more worried if others like me
When my almighty creator and savor
Declares he loves me
And shows how much
By dying for me
He gave up his life because he figured mine was worth living
He surrendered his perfect life
Because somehow he found value
Of a near to nothing amount
To trade in his life for mine
Wwhgrlehfsdophawe
My brain doesn’t wrap around this at all.
I’m starting to find the beauty of knowing I’m not perfect because it reminds me my humble need of a savior and then I get the opportunity to see his power made perfect in my weakness as I take all the imperfections to him instead of living by the lies formed by them.
