WARNING TO MALE READERS: This post contains much estrogen-saturated material and may not be suitable for the male Psyche. At the very least, a male reader may experience the WTMI (way too much information) effect after only a few lines. Hey, I warned you.
A blog is for my thoughts and feelings, right? And hey, this is my blog, so I’m going to blog about some personal stuff because it’s been on my mind so much the last few days.
It’s amazing how our self-image can be so tied up with our bodies. I was born a “big-boned” girl and at the ripe old age of 9 months had rolls on my thighs that could cut off my parents’ finger circulation as they tried to change my diapers. Puberty gave the thighs a come-back and I’ve been less than thrilled about the lower half of my body every since. My sister and I used to joke that it would sure be nice if you could suck in your thighs like you suck in your belly.
I’ve heard there are two basic body shapes: apples and pears. I don’t know who came up with the fruit idea but it kind of makes sense if you look around you. Apples have thin little legs, but tend to gain weight on top, either having round bellies or big chests. Pears, like me, tend to be smaller on top but gain weight/hold weight in the lower half of the body more. Invariably when I exercised more and watched what I ate more, my chest was the first to go. Of all places I was NOT heavily endowed that was it, so the injustice stung all the more. AND after breastfeeding all three of my girls, which I am so glad I did, what little I had became like deflated balloons or little empty tube socks. I’m just sayin’. Continue reading
One night as I was steaming and scouring my girls’ room for the little boogers, God spoke to my heart and said I should be as diligent about making sure I’ve gotten rid of all the sin lurking in the edges and cracks of my heart. I have to let God daily survey my heart, crush any sinful “pest” He finds there, and cleanse me again. I have to search my heart all the time to make sure some bitter attitude isn’t growing in the corner or some small temptation I’ve let remain isn’t crouching in a shadow waiting for an unsuspecting moment to trip me up.
Or think of yourself wearing black clothes in a moderately dark room. You could be covered in lint and “fuzzies” but none really show because of your dim surroundings. Walk into a bright spotlight, like the ones they use in a play, and suddenly every little speck, hair or particle is visible to everyone. Flaws and smudges you didn’t even realize were there are suddenly glaringly obvious.
Along the Narrow Path 