Sick of Me

Have you ever been just plain sick of yourself? Well, I am sick of me. I really do want Christ to just come and fill me up and I'd like to hide behind Him. I feel like I'm sticking out like a sore thumb. Everything about me is a bit off today. Even my boobs don't feel right. LOL!! Okay, okay, TMI (too much info.) I know, I know! Some of you hate the word BOOBS...sorry.....I'll call them breasts- the appropriate word for this body part area. There must be a sense of affection to this weird word because you may not believe me or believe that anyone would nickname another human being "Boob"...but it's true. My dad's nickname is Boob. His brothers and dad call him this. Now, growing up, I thought it was just normal. However, now as an adult, I'm thinking it's a bit odd. By the way, if you are trying to imagine what my dad's real name is and you are trying to figure out how "Boob" could be a closely related word.....don't try. It makes NO sense. His name is Bruce. Bruce....Boob??? What????
Hmmmm...that bunny trail got me in a better mood. See, how crazy I am? When I first started typing this I hated everything about me and now I'm laughing over the fact that my dad's nickname is Boob.
I truly do struggle with PMS and I fight against the spirit of naughty hormones. Tonight, a horrible spirit of jealousy flooded over me, through me, around me (yes, I allowed it) as John mentioned losing weight and that he wasn't going to eat a bowl of cereal even though he was hungry. I cringed. What on earth is wrong with me???? I hate my flesh- I literally was in a foul mood for about 30 min. and wouldn't make polite conversation with my poor hubby as I wallered in the "poor me" thought process. "Why am I not the one losing weight right now?" "Why is he bragging about his success?" Evil, evil thoughts came over me. I've ruined the whole evening of "what could've beens" with my nastiness. YUCKO!!! I couldn't even say "Great job honey. I'm so proud of you!" I muttered unkind things under my breath instead. To make myself "feel better" I jumped up and went and made some good ole fried eggs and toast. (I leave the yolks runny, but whites done so that I can dip the toast in the yolk!!!) I didn't say another word to him and just had a love affair with the plate of food. All of these strange comforting hormones were released as I almost spoke outloud to the food and told it how much I loved it. I thanked it for not talking back to me and for "just being there." Then, I heard God say "I want to be food to you. I want to be your everything." YIKES!!!!!! I know, I know, I know! I hate when I know something and don't do it...it ends up being that yucky word...."SIN."
To top off my entire evening, I then had a nice little spiritual battle with the great deceiver...yes...the enemy. He tried to convince me that I was just a big fake and that I sure do a good job of walking through all the motions of being a so called Christian...but "if they only knew the real me......." SHUT UP satan!!!!!! Ha!! Ha!!! Notice that I used a small lowercase "s" when typing satan. My spirit actually gets quite a kick out of this one because i think it's a nice slap in his face...to not capitalize his name. I bet he wants it to be capitalized, but I'm not fallin' for it!!!
No way hosea. I may wolf down a plate of pure BAD cholestrol, but by golly, I'm not going to give him respect when he deserves even less than a small "s".
Okay..Okay...I'll hush now. Gots to go to sleep. Thanks for entertaining me by reading this blog.
Man, if I don't get my buns in gear, I'm going to be the fattest person walking that Indy Mini next May! To God be the glory...HE is perfect and I am NOT!
love ya,
k