I am frozen here. Caught in my own web.
Caught in the thought that what I look like is as important as WHAT I AM.
No, read that again. Because I had an epiphany just writing it.
What I look like is not what I am.
It is not my soul, which is good.
It is not my heart, which is giving.
It is not my spirit which is loving.
It is not who I am.
It is, simply, a vehicle for my spirit. For the substance God gave to me- my essence and my soul. It is a transporter only.
Yes, it is my responsibility to keep it honed to do God's work. He wants us to have health.
But he also wants us to look at ourselves and say "This is not all there is."
And I am not my face, or my belly, or my thighs.
I am this soul that comes here with treas and pours blood onto page.
I am the one who holds the hand, who lifts the head, and who loves without ceasing.
I am the one that God created. Every inch of skin he knew. Every battle He chose for me.
And who is to say this battle is not my path to glory?
That winning, not over my flesh, but over the spirit that cries out that the flesh is important is my battle?
The voice that says that everything about me is good but this one thing...well let me put that voice on notice:
I REFUSE TO LISTEN TO YOUR LIES.
I am this soul. I am worthy. I am good. And I am a creation of One who loves and DOESN'T MAKE MISTAKES.
This voice that cries out when I look in the mirror, this nagging nasty overbloated self important voice that tells me that I am not enough:
That voice can be silent. Forever.
I WILL NOT GIVE UP. I WILL NOT GIVE IN.
I am weary. I am struggling. But my God is bigger than anything I can say about myself.
And He is here, and He is who I chose to listen to.
