It’s very hard for me to admit that I’m not good/talented/successful at something.  As a child and even now as an adult, I often avoid those things that I do not do well.  Why is that?

I think one reason I act this way is because I am a perfectionist.  If I can’t be perfect, then I don’t want to do it, because doing it less than perfectly awakens all sorts of ugly, unworthy emotions inside.

But God is showing me the true meaning of:

37 Jesus replied, “‘You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your mind.’ 38 This is the first and greatest commandment. 39 A second is equally important: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’

Loving your neighbor as yourself implies that you actually DO love yourself.

Do you love yourself?  Do you celebrate the way God made you?

As my daughter matures into a young teen, I see more and more evidence of my negativity about myself reflected in her attitude about herself.  I berate myself for those things I don’t do well…why then does it surprise me to see her doing the same?

In an effort to break this habit, I’m using today’s blog post to be vulnerable.  I’m going to roll over and show my underbelly — those parts of me that I usually hide out of shame because I’m not the best.

Instead, today I’m celebrating these things that make me much less than perfect:

  • This photo did not look like this when I first took it.  To say I modified it with software would be an understatement. I like it, but it’s not really my talent that captured it.
  • I am bad at names and faces.  I might remember your face, and  I might remember your name, but the chances of me remembering both are pretty much nonexistent until we’ve worked on projects together multiple times.
  • I’m an inattentive cook.  Burning food comes naturally.  Frozen pizzas, grits, chicken fried steak, rice, beans — if I’ve ever cooked it, I’ve probably burned it.  It’s a good thing my husband is so forgiving!
  • Sewing anything gives me a serious case of the heebie jeebies.
  • I’m not a precise person.  I’d rather eyeball it and guess it than measure it.
  • Naturally, measuring things also gives me the heebie jeebies.
  • When I sing I sound like a stuck pig.  A much younger version of me used to be able to at least follow along with a tune, but my older vocal cords betray me every time I inhale and belt out with the radio.
  • I let my clean laundry pile up on the floor.  I let my folded laundry pile up on the chair that was supposed to be my reading chair.  I let my dirty laundry pile up on the floor of the laundry room.  Notice a pattern here?
  • I wash pans in the dishwasher because I’m too lazy to scrub them myself.  And then when the dishwasher doesn’t get them clean, sometimes I put them back in for another wash even though I know it won’t work.  Guess I hope the laundry fairy will sprinkle magic dust over them and poof them clean for me.
  • I’m a weak swimmer.  In a contest between me and a shark, the shark would win.
  • I hate to sweat.  This means that I exercise until the first dewdrop appears on my forehead.  Then I’m done.
  • My hands look ten years older than I am.
  • Sometimes the speed limit is too restrictive. Like when I’m late for an appointment.
  • Which happens to be all too often.
  • I have a weakness for chocolate croissants.
  • Eating new foods scares me.
  • Even though they often need it, I never pluck my eyebrows.  I rarely get them waxed.  Maybe because I have an adversarial relationship with pain?
  • There are times when reading my Bible puts me to sleep.  Of course I’m so exhausted these days that reading the cereal box puts me to sleep.
  • Dental floss is not on my shopping list.
  • I’d rather write this blog than work on laundry/clean the house/cook.
  • If you want to race me to the street lamp, I’ll let you win every time.  Because I won’t run unless I’m being chased by a monster.
  • There are multiple piles of dog bombs in the backyard that I haven’t yet cleaned up.  And probably won’t until company comes over!
  • My pantry is always disorganized thirty seconds after I organize it.
  • My closet is always disorganized fifteen seconds after I organize it.
  • Every drawer in my kitchen is a junk drawer.
  • Walking up my stairs makes me tired.  But I do it anyway, unless I can get my daughter to fetch what I need.
  • I’m wasteful and will throw out leftovers that are more than one day old.  If they aren’t eaten the very next day, they are trashed.
  • Decorating is not my forte.
  • Fashion sense left me behind with leg warmers and parachute pants.
  • Yelling has been known to come out of my mouth in times of anger and exasperation.
  • I run the seat warmer AND the air conditioner — at the same time — in my car.
  • My favorite movie is about a prostitute who ends up shacking up with Richard Gere.  My other favorite movie is about Dread Pirate Roberts, true love, being mostly dead, taking revenge on a man who has six fingers on his left hand, fencing, and almost suicide.
  • I lost disk 5 of season one of the TV show…LOST.  (and then I found it behind the TV!)
  • Parallel parking is best left to the experts, of which I am most definitely NOT.

So there you have it!  A brainstorm on all the things that I DON’T  do well.  I’d call it the “I suck at these things” list, but I don’t consider the word “suck” to be one that I want as a title in my blog.

Yet I am who God made me to be, and daily He works to shape me into something more.  Embracing all that I am, and giving thanks to God for the way He made me is my goal.  I am beautifully and wonderfully made…and so are you!

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