The Eternal Existential Question

I love Facebook.  I know, that's not a question, I'll get to that.  Facebook has put me into contact with so many of my family members living in other states.  Friends too.  Though the friends I communicate the most with are actually local.  Kinda weird I think.

Why do I bring up Facebook?  A recent post I made was that I was "struggling to reconcile who she is with who she thinks she should be and with who she thinks others think she should be and who God says she is."

That sounds really confusing.  I wasn't sure if anyone would understand after I posted it but I didn't really post it for them.  I needed to get the entire thought out of my head and see it to understand it myself. I'm one of those people (not the ones that use 2 spaces after a period, well I do that too but I'm of the thinking that writing something down or talking about it aids in understanding "it").

The responses I got where meant to be encouraging and they were to an extent. Someone joked.  A couple mentioned Disney's Mulan and "being true to your heart".  Others advised that since I can't control other's thoughts I should be too concerned.  I can explain myself if I wish but God is the only one I live for. One reminded me that I had encouraged her and would do the same for me.

Sounds great, right? Obviously there are people who love and care about me and my well being.  I did know that.  I'm very thankful for being so blessed with friends and family and more surrogate family than I can shake a stick at.

My response was this: "So what prompted all this? I don't like who I am when no one is around. That's the real me. Character is who you are when you're alone. I don't like that Mikki but it's so hard changing her. I like the Mikki you all know and love. I am in awe of the Mikki that God sees.  I think too much. I'm too much philosopher and dreamer and thinker than actual doer."

Self evaluation is difficult.  I am my worst critic and certainly very critical, more critical than I should be.  I'm biased but biased in a manner against me.  Seems wrong, I know.  It is.

But here's the truth.  I don't like the Mikki I am when no one's around.  I think the Mikki everyone else sees is the same Mikki I show everyone but she's different than the Mikki I know. (So I don't have different personae for different friend groups or family...I am the same whomever I'm with.)

The Mikki I know is a terrible person; she's full of hate, deceit, lust, greed and pride.  She thinks she's not very smart and can't understand why no one else sees that.  She thinks she should be awarded a lifetime achievement award by the Academy for her acting skills, having been one person to the world all her life and one person to herself.

It's not that I care what others think about me.  It's that now that I have this facade everyone knows, I don't know how to change it. I want to be that person people think I am. Not to please them but because that Mikki is so much better than the Mikki I know.

Now if I haven't confused you enough, what's God think of Mikki?  God loves Mikki.  Who knows why, but He does.  He sent His son, Jesus, to take her place on the cross.  Jesus willingly gave His life for her so she could be reconciled with God.

Why am I fighting God on who I am?  Why can't I just rest in Him and know that one day with discipline and His power of transformation I will be that Mikki everyone sees?  Why don't I trust that I will someday see and embrace the Mikki God sees and knows and loves?

Most of all...why can't I stop thinking about me?  The universe, all creation, my life and everyone else's lives exist to worship God. Why can't I just shut my brain off, shut up and do that?

So...I'm blogging from my friend's iPad. It's pretty cool. I tend to play with it the last few weeks I've been over helping her do home projects. I've determined I'm most definitely my father's daughter. And my grandfather's granddaughter. Grandpa Harry was a carpenter and I rememeber being in his garage as a kid and sweeping up the sawdust.

My dad learned a lot from his dad and my Mom's dad (Harry). Now my pop is a general contractor and loves working on remodel projects and home improvements. I even helped him build a bay window seat with storage and and doors. It was very cool.

But I digress.

Over the last year I've really enjoyed helping my friend hang up picture frames and a widow shade and widow treatments. We've hung a mirror and installed baby locks. I helped do some painting in the basement. We layed carpet with a third friend of ours. We've worked on cleaning her garage (organization is a specialty of mine and Medina's-we made it a project to help her get started.)

So the point of this blog?

There isn't one. Sorry. I just wanted to play on her iPad more.

Peace, love and blessings!