Monday, January 30, 2012

Letting it all hang out...

Sometimes I get comments regarding this blog that none of you ever see. I wish they were all out there--the good, the bad, and the ugly, but for various reasons, people don't always post them right out here in the open.

That's okay, because I realize that as you read my blogs, you don't see all of my reality either. My blog is about how I hope; how I aspire to be better; how I learn and grow. It doesn't always show the nitty-gritty.

I do not have it all together. I don't even have it half together. So, when someone even hints that my blog presents Alison in a way that makes them feel, I don't even know the word...intimidated? I feel horrible. I'm gonna give you a transparent look at me. No excuses or defending myself. Just the truth.

Are ya ready? Will you still love me? :o)

I am a nag. I correct my family for bad grammar and their choices and in doing so have made them feel small. It happens way too much and I want to shut my mouth, but I don't do it even when my brain is screaming at me to shut-up!

I am very opinionated. I know how I feel and I can't be talked out of it. Maybe this means I think I'm right too often. Ouch. I don't generally share my opinion unless asked, except with my family who know my heart, but I wish I could just be more flexible.

I rarely make my bed. If someone is coming over, of course it gets made. How would it reflect on me as a woman with an unmade bed? Such a scandal. And I bought floors that hide dirt extremely well because I wash them far too infrequently.

I laugh at very inappropriate moments. Once a friend was telling me a really sad story. I mean like saw-your-leg-off kinda story and she was crying, and I started laughing. When I was supposed to give my kids "the talk" I couldn't because I laugh too hard when I'm supposed to be serious. This means I cry at the wrong moments, too. I can be watching a commercial about, I don't know--a Honda--and burst into ridiculous tears that makes my family look at me like I'm crazy. Wacky, backwards emotions.

I sit on my butt sometimes when I should be busier. I read too much. It keeps me up too late and then I sleep too long and can't get all my work done. I need a lot of sleep or I'm a cranky bear.

I forget my friends' birthdays. I am horrible at sending cards, I rarely give gifts--if I do, it's probably going to be in a Meijer bag. I just forget to be thoughtful.

Maybe because I am so self-centered so often. Case in point. This blog installment. All about me. Too many times, too many days, it's just all about Alison.

I'm not very disciplined. I eat more than I'd like, and other than the last month, I've never stuck with any form of exercise that makes me break a sweat. It's too hard (she says with a whine).

My marriage. I wouldn't trade it for anything. As much as we've loved and learned, the only reason we are who we are as a couple is the grace of God. Not because of us because we argue about the silliest stuff. And, though I sometimes think that we have some experience to pass along, I have it so not together that I wrote four blogs around an anniversary date that was a whole month off! Did you catch that? Our dating anniversary is in February--not January! Oh, my...

So, how to redeem this ME blog? Well, I claim humanity as my defense. I claim forgiveness as my get-out-of-jail-free card. I claim grace as my ticket out of all the trouble I get myself into. 

Love, does indeed, cover a multitude of sins. And, one thing I know for sure is how loved I am. It takes messing up to feel forgiven and know mercy. It takes walking a dark road in pain that is sometimes self-inflicted to recognize the warmth of love-undeserved. And that is the sweetest kind, isn't it?

Perfect? Not by a long shot. Loved? Completely.

4 comments:

  1. You're my kinda women!!!

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    1. Haha! This is funny as long as it's one of my girl friends!

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    2. I guess it's time to reveal myself...it's your girlfriends - Mom... Not a fake friend, but the real, deal one!

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    3. Big, huge, sigh of relief! Good to know its you, MP. ;o) Now I don't have to try to tell Christian about the "creeper". Haha!

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