Real Life

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I must confess. Confess that I put on a great show. I share pictures (through filters, of course) of this fun life filled with coffee, DIY projects, precious pups, and a hunk of a husband. According to social media, my life is perfect. I live with the love of my life in a sweet home in a city we’re fond of. We take trips to cool places and see pretty things. But as I’m sure most of you are aware, life doesn’t look like the finished image in Instagram.

You see, it starts looking average. There are real emotions and struggles. I, however, am just skilled in filtering them to look nice, orderly, and pretty. Don’t you know the feeling? The feeling I’m talking about is the anxiety you get when you see another attractive woman and PRAY your legs looks half as good as hers. Or the pit you feel in your stomach when you realize you have a serious problem and haven’t picked up your Bible in so long that you can’t actually remember where you put it. Call it embarrassment. Call it shame. Call it whatever you want, but it’s not the pretty picture you want displayed for the world to see.

But that is the picture I’m displaying for you today. I originally started this blog to share life, so here it is. You can call this part struggle. Women, you know what I’m talking about. Men, you’re probably still trying to figure out a way to help your wife out of it.

Body image. Those two words pack a mean punch. It’s easy to hear those two words and immediately go to the extreme (i.e. eating disorders). But, we women know that it’s something we all struggle with, some more than others, but nonetheless it’s a common denominator between us all. And I’m not different. The number on the scale is never quite what I want it to be. My face will always have at least one blemish. And my legs will never look like Heidi Klum’s. Most of the time, I’m fine with it. I really am confident, but here lately- if I’m completely honestly- it’s been completely disastrous.

I’ve tried fixing it. Step 1 was don’t care. I ate what I wanted, didn’t exercise, and pretended that I was the most confident woman there ever was. That failed. Step 2 was fix it. I joined a gym, almost died at RPM (I’m still going to continue though), and ordered grilled chicken. It didn’t take long to realize that wasn’t the cure. Now Step 3 is assume the praying position. I took the walk of shame (all around my house) to find my misplaced Bible. I read and talked to the Lord. While this is day 1 on my journey to recovery, I can tell this is the only true, freedom-filled way. I didn’t have to go that far either.

In the beginning God created…

Genesis 1:1

Stop. He created. That means me. Let’s continue.

So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.

Genesis 1:27

I am made in the image of God. He is perfect. I am made perfectly.

What do you see here? I see that God created me. My body was formed by Him, so I shouldn’t despise it. Obviously, I should take care of it, but my knees look that way for a reason. The shade of my skin is on purpose. My features were crafted by the Maker of Heaver. Who am I to scrutinize His work?

I also went to Psalm 139 because every woman who has spent some time in the church knows this is where you go for body image issues. And you know, that’s for a reason. It’s just that good!

For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. How precious to me are your thoughts, God! How vast is the sum of them! Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand- when I awake, I am still with you.

Psalm 139:13-18

What about here? What do you see? He knew me in my mother’s womb before ANYONE else. I am FEARFULLY and WONDERFULLY made. This is truth to cling onto!

I ended in 1 Samuel.

But the Lord said to Samuel, ” Do not consider his appearance or his height, for I have rejected him. The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart. 

1 Samuel 16:7

And here? Outward appearance isn’t what the Lord cares about. It’s not how physically fit I am or how long my legs are. He cares for my heart. And to be honest, people, that’s a scary thought. My heart has been focused on lies from the enemy. My heart has leapt into fitness magazines, tan skin, and making you think I had it all together. Basically, my heart has been turned to mush.

Please do not think this post is a cry for compliments. I am NOT writing this so you can privately send me texts and emails telling me how “crazy I am. I’m beautiful.” Once again, not asking for compliments. I am sharing that this struggle is real. According to every fitness magazine, I’m considered fit. My body fat percentage is where it should be. That’s not the problem. It’s a matter of the heart and a war against the enemy. I wanted you to know that other women struggle too. We should be in prayer TOGETHER over this.

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Note: This post is actually pretty funny because a couple of days ago, JRB asked me when I was going to rant again on my blog. {In the early days of blogging, I’d find a topic I could really tear to pieces-like girls being crazy and guys being dumb- and I’d go to town. I’d really rant at those people being crazy and dumb.} Here I am ranting, so JRB got his wish. Only this time, I’m ranting at me. 

Note: During the making of this blog, Sam decided to snuggle up. Moment is captured above. 

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3 thoughts on “Real Life

  1. Paige. I don’t know how I missed this post. I’d read every other one and was just scrolling through because I miss you. This made me miss you even more. I love you! I definitely resonate with searching through my apartment looking for my bible (and everything else). Ugh. Real life though, right?

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