Coming Clean.

For the past thirty-three years I've been called a lot of things. Things like:
Stuck-up
Bitch
Whiner
Complainer
High-maintenance
Drama Queen
Dumbass
Liar
Manipulator
Ugly
Loser
At one point or another I'll admit these were correct assessments of my character. In every criticism there is a bit of truth, or so my friend, Lane Sanders, told me many years ago.

I've also been the recipient of a few niceties, as well. Such as:
Friendly
Warm
Outgoing
Beautiful
Kind
Fabulous
Down-to-earth
Funny
Loving
Intelligent
I have a hard time accepting compliments because I tend to ignore any favorable press bestowed upon me. Compliments from my husband and two daughters are freely given and easily accepted, though. I'm thankful for this.

I've had a lot of labels thrust upon me for 407 months. By nature of humanity, I'll wear many of these titles over and over again. The good, the bad, and the ugly. By nature of Divinity, though, I have the ability to shrug off the ugly and bad, and accept the good with grace.

Today I begin my thirty-forth year on this earth, and the label I most identify with is child. God's child. I choose to start my new year by coming clean, receiving new mercies, learning from mistakes, and seeking Him as I move forward. It's a journey, y'all...and I thank each of you for being on this crazy trip with me!

And this is what I'll be singing/praying all day long...it is the cry of my heart...

When the best of my intentions
Won't reach for their potential
And the language of love
Hesitates to leave my tongue
I tire of trying to translate
What I am to what should be
No, the inside of this stained-glass cup
Never really does seem to come clean
So I stake out my pretenses
And keep washing white these fences
But the colors underneath them
Keep showing through again
I tire of trying to translate
What I know to what I do
Won't You scrub this dusty window, Lord
Let Your light get through
When I come to You, I come clean
Can't pretend to any good in me
Wash me in Your love, I come clean...
--from "Come Clean" by Scott & Christine Dente

p.s. This matters to no one but me...but I've waited all my life to be thirty-four. 34! It's my favorite number...my hero wore it many years ago, tearing up the field, winning the Heisman, bringing pride statewide. I love you, Herschel Walker. I will wear your number proudly for the next 365 days.