Sometimes – today, right now – I wonder why my lack of discipline doesn’t bother me more. I would give almost anything to be more organized, to get more done in the day, heck, to train for more than two months without falling off the wagon.
Perhaps it’s because of a couple things… I’ve never had to do anything that was too hard physically. And I learned from a very early age to pretend that everything is ok.
The little sayings that people throw out sometimes have merit. Don’t sweat the small stuff, you might be thinking. And you’d be correct a lot of the time. Fake it ’til you make it? Not so much.
For starters, you can’t fake a clean house.
The house right now is almost spotless. A few items need to be picked up and there’s a couple dishes in the sink but I wouldn’t be embarrassed to have my pastor over right now. Most of this was N’s doing as he prefers things clean and I like to clean because it makes him happy. Even if it takes me a day… or three.
But more importantly, what kind of a God would choose a human facade over authenticity?
I mean really, that’s a stretch. The Creator of the universe wants you to pretend you’re happy, successful, healthy, rich, married, pregnant, out of debt, free of acne, disciplined and driving a Bentley? Uhhh…
Yet pastors and preaches teach this from thousands of pulpits across the country and the world every Sunday.
There were times when I really internalized this “fake”, pretending I had it all together. To be honest, I still do. Fake has become – in so many ways – my second nature. As much as I’m loathe to admit it, being authentic is really hard for me. I mean, really. freaking. hard.
Part of me pulled so hard against pretending for so long but at some point it sucked me in.
So sitting here, writing this, I realize that I shouldn’t even roll out of bed in the morning before I repent for pretending to be something I’m not. It’s pride that keeps us from being able to admit our mistakes, right? That’s the root of all of this pretending. We can put a pretty label on it – call it faith, believing, trusting in God. But it’s pride. I’m guilty.
Jesus, forgive me for pretending to be anything more than a messed up, sinful girl who needs a savior. Amen.
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