There's something about her that isn't the usual. That means she is rather unusual. To her this is the upmost of compliments. She sees herself as no one else does and yet she feels their glances all too well. Her normal behavior is out of the ordinary, but to her she is nothing extraordinary. Doesn't everyone need their quiet time, to sit back and unwind? Isn't anyone else their best self in front of everyone else, but dwelling in their own mind they are the creature from the Dark Lagoon? Not that she knew what that creature even was, but it sounded foreboding, it sounded almost as awful as she convinced herself that she shouldn't be feeling.
To tell you the truth, she was okay with being different because to her, everyone was. Not everyone was the typical beauty and thank God for that. Some were shorter or rounder or balder or louder. Some were stout while others were thin while others still seemed to be all twisted about. Their insides were out and their frowns looked like smiles. She often wondered why people like that didn't disturb her, in fact, they intrigued her.
She was in love now, so of course this made her dwell on who she really was. Was she pretty or thin, was she ugly but nice, was she truly good enough for anyone or would she be better off trying to get everything right? She hated not being perfect. Yet every time she worked at it, it surely wasn't worth the effort. She inevitably failed, spent time wallowing in self-hate with a mixture of pity and all the while knowing it was wrong for her to be doing anything except for simply living. Which she wanted to do, of course, if only she could figure this one little detail out. What do you do with the pieces of you that don't fit the puzzle your whole life seems to say you are making? There's a bit that doesn't go here, yet you are quite sure it belongs to whatever it is that you are doing. Instead of throwing it out, since that is rather improbable, you must make do, even setting the anomaly aside until the secret comes out from wherever it is that secrets like that do hide.
She was proud of herself for not giving up, for believing that there was a solution even when she was stuck. What she couldn't make sense of was that it would all be alright, that somehow her distractions would have happy conclusions and the picture would ultimately be completed. But, for who? For who did all of that work get done and for whose admiration had her work begun? If He knows the completed project, in fact has drawn up the immaculate design, isn't it her job to not note on the details, but rather enjoy the process and not comment on the length of time?
It felt frustrating. She was frustrated because she wasn't doing yet another thing right. Appreciate God's gift, was what her head kept telling her. He made you, He loves you, He thinks you're beautiful. Well, that's great. But in the mean time I've yelled at my dog, I look ugly in jeans and just yesterday I told a prideful lie. I feel sick to my stomach to think that who I am is, plainly and simply, me. Yet, I remember that God is full of grace. My mistakes are colorful designs on His beautiful page. I am nothing more than human. I am one beautiful mistake and He has indeed created me this way.http://www.facebook.com/lookup4change
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