Just like most people, I ebb and flow between times when I think I'm the most wonderful person on the earth and times when I stand at a distance from myself in disbelief of how atrocious I am. I wish I could be more consistent, but I'm all over the place with how I see myself and it's almost never in a good or healthy way.
When I think I'm the best person ever, I am self-righteous. I make lists in my head of all the qualities I have that would make me a good wife someday. I ask myself how people could ever not like me or not want to be my friend. I tell myself that the reason people don't flock to me in social situations is because they are intimidated by how wonderful and graceful and superior to them I obviously yet diplomatically am. I say unkind things about people I don't like so that other people can see that I am able to think critically, but I say these callous things in a way that seems prudent and well-thought-out and in the best interest of all involved. I am self-sufficient and I (pretend that I) don't need Christ at all.
But then, abruptly, I feel the exact opposite way. I feel like a sloppy, tarnished, lackadaisical pile of a person. My intentions are not worthy or kind. There is no point to trying to do anything because I'm just going to fail. People who would normally bother me a little bit turn into people I have to leave the presence of in order to not punch. It's these times when it seems like every mistake I've ever made is ganging up on me. I wish I could live in a cave and eat gummy worms and read stories about people other than myself, because then I wouldn't have any problems. I know I'm terrible, but I just can't help it and I can't stop.
Ever since I noticed this tendency to ricochet between these extremes, I've tried to regulate my actions and the way in which I view myself. I want to walk through my days knowing that I am sinful and broken, but that there is now no condemnation I dread and no need to despair in my blatant human-ness. I want to be able to rejoice in the grace which I have received. It is why I am able to live.
A. A. Milne, author of Winnie the Pooh, said that "weeds are flowers, too, once you get to know them." This feels especially true in the spring. There are flowers all along the sides of the roads. They are happy and pretty and beaming.
I'm a weed. I try and strive to be a flower and I do my best to masquerade as one, but I'm just not. I know this because I don't live in a flower garden or in a carefully painted flowerpot. There is no one to carefully pat the soil around me so that I can grow successfully. When it's time to mow the yard, I go down with the grass, and that's the end of that.
But being loved by God means that even if I am a persistent old weed, He treats me as a flower. He buys special soil so that I can be healthy. He brings me inside on cold nights so the frost doesn't kill me. He waters me. And there are still scary dogs and thunderstorms and very hungry caterpillars trying to eat me, but I know that I was put here by the King of the earth for a reason. I know that He cares about me. He wants me to grow big and bright so that I can be a reminder to all the world of His glory.
Tim Keller says "He loved us, not because we were lovely to Him, but to make us lovely." And that's why I am able to live a life worthy of the calling I have received. I don't have to drastically bounce between loving myself too much and hating myself too much. I can just live and grow.
Love,
Lauralicious
