This is not Jeopardy

“I’ll take Famous Last Words for $200, Alex.” 
“This self proclaimed lady and scholar declared ‘I’m starting to feel myself again’ before becoming violently ill.”
“Who is Heidiva?”
“Correct. The infamous diva went on to repeat the cycle of saying she felt herself again then being knocked down by illness at least a half a dozen times before she finally learned to stop using the phrase.”

Y’all. I can’t. The love for this sketch just overwhelms my heart. 

Story of my life this past month and a half. As soon as I feel normal and say that I feel like myself again BAM! stomach virus or an awful phone call strikes. And I get knocked down; forced to just rest my body and mind.
I keep saying that “I’m finally feeling like myself” after I work out whatever illness or family crisis passes and then something happens again. I finally start feeling like the lady who has it all together again and then.. I’m proven wrong. I don’t have it all together. I can’t keep myself from getting sick. Or getting a phone call saying someone has died. Or being told that I’m not the person I say I am, by someone who barely knows me. I can’t even keep myself from sending an email with grammatical errors. 
I. Am. So. Human.

The Whiiiiiiinnnerrrrss…

And it bugs me. I want to have control over something. I want to have it all. I want to be disciplined and beautiful and crafty and thin and funny and smart and the best mother ever. I want to be a great cook and housekeeper. I want to be able to function on four hours sleep without coffee. I want to be mild mannered but a bold conversationalist. I. Demand. Perfection.

Perfection=More Cowbell

And I suck at perfection. I just do. I am not perfect. I offend people when I think I’m being hilarious or helpful. I get defriended on Facebook. And I get mad and hurt that I’m defriended by people. I eat so much candy that my teeth hurt. I’m grumpy past ten. Okay, eight. A.M.
I miss my brother. I miss when life was easy (when was that again?). I’m nostalgic for when life was so filled with wonder and void of disappointments. I’m nostalgic for eighties music, blue eye shadow, and my BFF’s that used to pass me notes in the hall. I so miss mix tapes. And SNL. 
It’s so obvious I don’t have it all together.

You wish you could be this cool. I wish I were that cool.

The all together girls don’t get nostalgic for time periods that never existed. They don’t miss people or things they can’t have. They don’t get bothered by being defriended on social media. They vacuum and wash their dishes daily. Their hair is washed and styled. They wear make up though they don’t really need it. They wake up early to exercise and do their Bible studies before the butt crack of dawn. And they don’t say things like “the butt crack of dawn.” They’re funny and charming; but classier and more likable in their humor. They don’t promise their kids the most popular toys since the stinkin’ Furby that is NEVER in stock. They also don’t give their kids candy after they’ve brushed their teeth, four minutes before bed. They probably don’t let their kids drink soda, either. They definitely don’t make fun of ugly babies or their ugly parents. (Everybody ain’t pretty y’all.)

All together girls… well, they aren’t my kind of girls. Mainly because they’re not real. Those girls you see on Facebook or Instagram with their perfect kids, jobs, husbands, history, make up, bodies? Don’t exist. Oh, they’re lovely, and I’m sure that’s for real. But don’t compare your grass to theirs; you don’t know the compost heap they’ve had to develop to keep every hair in place. You don’t see their Monday mornings. You don’t see them forgetting dry cleaning and milk spoiling in their carpet (someone tell me I’m not alone on that one). You don’t see them desperately dry shampooing their hair. You don’t see the fights, the tears, and their perfectly imperfect lives. You don’t know their whole story. And they don’t know yours. They might wish they could be as natural or confident or funny or whatever-makes-you-you as you are. Or maybe they don’t.

Maybe they’re just trying to make it in this life as hard as you are. Maybe they are trying to attain perfection in an imperfect world.. to get a piece of heaven here and now. Maybe we all just need to, want to, yearn to, stop the madness of competition and comparison. None of us have it all together.

And that’s more than okay: we weren’t made to have it or be it “all.”

Except Greg and Ariana. They’re the total package.

***********I started this post a few months ago. And its message is relevant to me today still. I want it all and can’t have it all. I think the lesson here is to learn contentment while still preparing for that proverbial harvest. It’s loving what you have more than you lament what you don’t. It’s being transparent when your heart seems to be broken in a million pieces around you and carrion birds are circling over head waiting to devour. It’s knowing that even though you don’t feel okay it will be okay. Even though you feel like a mess: *you* aren’t a mess. Maybe you’re beautiful just the way you are. Maybe you are perfect just the way you were made. Maybe it’s okay to be you. Maybe I say maybe when I mean to say this: you are perfect just the way you are. Beloved, there is no flaw in you.(Song of Solomon 4:7) Were there cracks and mars and dents inflicted on you by yourself or others? Absolutely. But in you, who you are, how you were designed, who you were created to be; there is no flaw. That’s how I believe God sees us through Jesus. There is no flaw in you. Rest in that. God sees you through eyes of love. There is no flaw in you. I keep typing it because I have to repeat it to myself. There is nothing fundamentally wrong with you: there is no flaw in you. This is not all to say that we don’t have a sin nature that needs to be surrendered and sins of which we need to repent.. But you.. You as a person? No flaw. You as God sees you through Jesus? No flaw.***************

One thought on “This is not Jeopardy

  1. I don't know any words that I could say that could speak louder or more true. I do want to say that I can see the perfection of Christ in you. The am proud that you speak the words in your heart and the truth that Christ has placed in you. Thank you for the woman of God that you are, the best mother my children could ever have or hope for, and for being a wife that honors and respects me even when I don't deserve it. Thank you for all that you are to me and for being bold enough to sacrifice yourself for others in your career, your time, and your personal needs for all that who are around you. I love you princess, I love you my Heidiva Lady Scholar.


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