Day 131
There was a moment my ego needed to be checked. Another woman was trying to put down women who work for what they’ve got, telling us it’s all propaganda an excuse for why she can’t or won’t discipline herself toward something better. Girl, we get it. You love yourself and you love God, but when the words don’t match how you project yourself, that’s self-loathing, insecurity, and hate. It comes from not trusting yourself, and it happens. When we’re convinced everyone else is lying, so convicted in what we once thought was right, only to find ourselves guilty of perpetuating someone else’s narrative to hurt people, that’s embarrassing. It hurts, and you question everything about yourself. But screaming God at people is the ego flooding into the soul. You are not the definition of what Jesus would do.
Let me tell you a little about Jesus, in my own words, and how I see him. I see him as an immigrant child that the working class suddenly came to bow to, not a king, not a god, but a boy. Someone so innocent and mild it had to be protected at all costs, for its softness. Who would hurt a child? We know that answer. People hurt children. They use God to excuse it. Isn’t that terrible. So as he grew, he found himself among the criminals, walking skid row. The elite saw no harm in a boy preaching of God. For God so loved the world, He gave His only son. As a mother who has seen evil in this world, I couldn’t imagine a sacrificial lamb coming from my own womb, after a life spent trying to protect him. He kept company with prostitutes and tax collectors, because he knew the feeling of being under attack and misunderstood the broken and the damned, doing what they could to survive.
And you claim you saved them. Buckets carried by children, filled by the privileged, doing the Lord’s work.
Oh, you martyrs. Hearts changed forever by a few interactions, but unable to understand the gap of suffering. Cute, you think your mission did anything but perpetuate your own self-hatred with a pat on the back for how good you did. But to be truly good is to be hated daily, for a standard so high it seems impossible to keep. That level of discipline is hard. It takes dedication, and you might die trying to show what’s possible, that we might live a life so humbled we become the example.
Don’t take it lightly. The softer one gets, the more sure of themselves they are.
Leave a Reply