No such luck.
I get lost in the inner conversations sometimes. Battling. Very in my head and desperately dialoging my way out day by day. Clinging to what I know to be true, and right, and promised.
I learned a couple years ago they are often the devils lies. The things he would love for me to believe are true about myself. Not just as thoughts, but more like concrete cinder blocks I step into that take me straight to the deep end of not so shallow of water. Damn him. He's a trickster you know. And he repeats himself over, and over, and OVER. Like a toddler, on the worst day ever.
What's extra special is he even comes with friends. People and circumstances that surround you and put a megaphone up to those whispers, making them scream, "SEE! THAT'S PROOF RIGHT THERE SISTER. YOU SUCK."
But here's the cool thing. God's always there. Taking notes. Waiting until just the right moment to call bullshit for what it is, step in, and remind me of a few things. And last I knew He is still a super hero, with super powers that crush megaphones, who doesn't lie, and ALWAYS knows the truth about me and the core of who I am. Regardless of what others are thinking or saying. Regardless of the tricksters lies.
I made an appointment with HIM Tuesday morning. With my cinder blocks on. And this is what He had lined up for me read:
I speak to you from the depths of your being. Hear ME saying soothing words of Peace, assuring you of My Love. DO NOT LISTEN TO VOICES OF ACCUSATION, for they are not from Me. I speak to you in love tones, lifting you up. Let the Spirit take charge of your mind, combing out tangles of deception. ~Sarah Young~
I also know through a little mentor of mine, Beth Moore:
God is who He says He is
God can do what He says He can do
I am who God says I am
I can do all things through Christ
God's word is alive and active in me
(I'M BELIEVING GOD)
I have sucky moments, but I'm a good mom. I make mistakes, but I'm a good wife. I'm not perfect, but I'm a good friend. My walk with Christ is real, it's personal, it's deep. My journey is my own, and I am an example of imperfect grace. I drive well loved cars, and we'll just leave it at that. I run late, keep a pathetically scattered schedule, forget things all the time, and accept help from others. If that means I'm a bit irresponsible IT'S OK. And if I raise a daughter to be just like me, regardless of how that's defined, I will LOVE her. No matter what. Because bad daughter is NEVER a category I will adopt in my vocabulary for my precious girl. I will practice not using it on myself.
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change
The courage to change the things I can
And the wisdom to know the difference