Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Blowing my cover.

I am blatantly flawed.

There. I said it.

I thought that perhaps this was a practically invisible blog, glimpsed sporadically by good friends and my husband. Actually, I'm fairly certain he never reads it. So, when I post melodramatic statements about sweeping changes of life and diet, I have the feeling I'm talking to myself. Then I got in line tonight for the dessert spread at a church activity and several people mention my new sugar free life. . . which actually hasn't been so sugar free lately. I cringe. My plan to enjoy cookies and brownies in blissful anonymity while resolving to make them my last crumpled. I shrugged it off and got some cookies anyway.

I try to be pretty honest here. I'm not looking to build myself up as an expert on anything whatsoever. I'm just looking to build myself up however the Lord wants me built. I am striving to be filled with the pure love of Christ and that means some renovations in my soul, some sweeping of corners to make room for the light and love I crave. It won't be easy, neat, or quick. But in the end, it will be. You're welcome to come along for the ride, just don't expect perfection and I think we'll get along fine. We can renovate together.

1 comment:

  1. I too only get a few comments per blog if I'm lucky and thought that no one was really reading. My surprise came after I'd had a bit of a nervous breakdown and made the mistake of ranting about it. People I would have never guessed had EVER read my blog started sheepishly mentioning that they'd read the post and asked me what they could do.

    I considered deleting the post but then decided that would be even more lame than having posted it in the first place, so I tried to bury it under several more posts so the casual passerby wouldn't read my rant. (Just in case you're looking for ideas - ha!)

    Or you can just stop posting for a good long time so people will forget you have a blog. That might work too!

    But I say, keep on keeping on. And enjoy the occasional cookie.