I am telling you I am a world class champion at proving my own humanity.
It is so hard to be an awesome bubble of kindness and love when you have a mondo backache and you are super hungry times five. It’s hard to keep hope when the world's cup runneth over with hopelessness. How am I supposed to fit in a round hole when I am an incredibly deformed peg?
I want to be the kind of person who loves on people when I feel like a drawer full of socks. I want to be joyful and hopeful in the midst of the most down trodden situations. I want to always say and do the right things and always keep my word. I want to always win the war with my flesh. I want to learn from my monumental mishaps and never let them haunt and taunt me, but the truth is I am made of flesh and blood.
I have scars on my arms and forehead to prove the fact that my skin is easily penetrated. I cry when my heart hurts. I use my tongue like a weapon when I am angry, and I hate every bit of that. But the only hope I find in all of this mess that I create daily is that The Guy who made heaven and lady bugs and the heart that beats in my chest (most of the time!) loves me just as I am and has my back. He never promised me a life of perfection, but he did promise me a life of forgiveness and hope in the midst of my human state.
