little black journal

This past week has been funky.  Not like funky-town funky, but down-in-a-funk funky.  Every single day felt like a bad hair day, I let silly little work stuff bother me way too much, and I generally just felt…gray (blue is too pretty a color with which to paint my mood).  I sat down late last night to do some journaling and spewed all kinds of bitterness over the pages of my Moleskine.  And then I asked God to bring about change in my mind and heart and relationships, to help me let go of the things that keep me up at night, to make me more of a life-giver and less of a life-sucker.  I prayed for a brand new attitude:  I want to be selfless, putting other people’s needs and wants before my own.  I want to be open to God’s plan for my life, letting go of the agenda I’ve so carefully scripted.  I want to see the good in people and lock up that critical little devil that’s constantly perched on my shoulder.  I want to be full of hope and optimism, quick to encourage and inspire.  And while we’re at it, I’d like hair like Victoria Beckham, a renewed sense of creativity, and a pair of jeans that fit perfectly (with a perfect butt to fit in said perfect jeans).

I breathed an initial sigh of relief as I began to proces my feelings and wade through my funk.  And then I realized how far I’ve fallen from the person I want to be, and my mood promptly shifted from light gray to a deep, murky brown.  I work so hard to protect the image I’ve built of a woman that kicks ass at her job, that’s in a marriage filled with bliss and romance, that vacations in Paris and dines with friends and makes a killer loaf of banana bread.  But sometimes cracks start to form in this blessed life I live, over an argument with Shane, a couple of gained pounds, or another month of wondering when our baby hopes will be realized.  The cracks eventually deepen to fissures and before I can stop it, my self esteem starts to fall apart and I’m left with huge chunks of doubt and anxiety piled at my feet.  And that’s where I found myself last night.  With bad hair at a one-woman pity party.  Be glad you weren’t invited.

Thank goodness today is a new day.  Thank goodness the sun finally came out.  And thank goodness I have friends, family, and a Lord that will meet me where I’m at, no matter how high or low that place may be.  Things aren’t perfect right now.  I’m not perfect right now (and I never will be), but today I’m choosing to remember that grace is a beautiful thing.  Amen.