UNPREPARED
Shannon Terry walked up to me, in my daze and giggled “are you, Shannon Terry, today?”
She held my name tag hanging loosely on my now blue & sticky sweater. I looked down and read it “Shannon Terry” Sheepishly, I laughed along.
“Er um… hee hee. Uh…yeah, can I be you? I really want to be you! So sorry!”
I quickly unclipped the tag and hugged my friend as I handed it to her.
ASHAMED
Lord help me.
I mean…Who wouldn’t want to be Shannon Terry? She is lovely, inside and out, thin, stylish, graceful, her kids are smart and adorable.
But, alas, I am not. I am me. A hot mess, mediocre wife, lazy housekeeper, okayish cook, homeschool teacher (that is bad at math), sleepy mother of four.
Wearing her name tag does not make me her. I cannot have her physique, her cute clothes, her well-behaved kids, her vacation memories.
And NO one expects this of me.
Except maybe me.
What are we calling ourselves today? Are we confessing truth with our mouths? Confession literally means “to agree with”. Who are we agreeing with? The father of lies? Or the one who calls us Daughter?
God has named me. An indelible tag placed on a robe of white. In red sharpie, unwashable, not even with a magic eraser. On my craziest day, in chaos and madness, mistakes and mishaps. I can look there and be assured it will read…
“His”
But now thus said the Lord that created me…and he that formed me ….fear not for I have redeemed thee I have called thee by name thou art mine. Isaiah 43:1
Enter His rest,
Stacey
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This article originally appeared at She Sat Down. Check out She Sat Down on Facebook and enter a place of rest!
