Chapter 2: She's a Mean One...

Anger. Such a small word full of so much, well…anger. And I held a lot of it. I still may. I mean after becoming a sanctuary for it for so very long, there has to be at least the smallest fragment—some remnant—left buried somewhere deep inside. Maybe it’s awaiting the perfect opportunity. Waiting for the right amount of malice and frustration to latch hold and grow and fester until it’s found its way back home. To me.

Anger is dangerous…needless to say. It can turn you into someone you barely recognize. And, boy, did it do a number on me. Push the right button and you’ll find a Cristal that you hardly recognize or even thought was possible.

“What?! Not her?” you say.

Right?

Wrong.

I don’t know about you, but I often get tired of myself; of the way that I am. I tend to ask myself, “What is wrong with you? Why do you do the things that you do?”

And I can’t really answer it. Some days I think there is something fundamentally wrong with the fabric of who I am.

There is that one thing that I struggle with. The issue that I have to take to God over and over…and over again. Which at this point, I’m sure He’s like, “If this girl comes to me with this one ‘mo gin…” (He wouldn’t though. You know? He’s God and all.) But, there’s just this thing that I can’t stand about myself. That thing. That other me. The one that not everyone gets to see. It’s that side that I save solely for the people closest to me: my husband, my kids, my momma, a few select trill friends. The ones who I trust enough to see the ugly and still love me regardless. Because baby, that side of me downright and utterly disgusting.

And I try so hard not to be her that the enemy has a field day bringing her out. Oh, he loves that other me—that UNPLEASANT me. Because, like I said, she’s ugly and she can destroy my witness; everything that I stand for. And every time that I think I’ve laid her to rest or that I’ve passed this thing that’s been holding me back; hindering who I could become…here I go. As soon as I’m triggered, I’m right back to square one. And, once again, when that button is pushed, when that Cristal is activated, I forget my prayers and I fail that test…yet again.

And then here I am, asking God—ONCE AGAIN—to help me control myself and not allow others to control me. Whew chile…the cycle. And, yes, I hear Jonathan McReynolds singing every single time.

Now, I have to give myself props. Some days, I absolutely master it. You couldn’t get a rise out of me no matter how hard you try. Some days, I’ll shut my mouth and bite that tongue so hard that it bleeds. But then comes that day that I least expect it, when I should have been prepared for it—that’s when that test really comes full circle.

You see, because when I’m in it, I don’t think about it. I mean, honestly, I’m a “see red” kind of girl. Now, don’t think I’m boasting or bragging, because like I said before: I get plain ole sick of me and how I can be. I’m a whole entire smorgasbord of chaos. Plain and simple…I’m a mess. But, when I’m in the middle of failing this test, I don’t see it that way. When I get to that place, there is very little you can do to talk me down. Thankfully, I don’t have these moments often. But, really, I have them far more than I’m comfortable with admitting.

And it’s not until I come down and I’m in that calm that I realize just how badly I handled that situation. It’s not until after I’m sitting in the wake of clutter and confusion that I realize, “Oh, so that was that test that I’ve been asking God to help me pass. Failed it again. Guess, that’ll be coming back.”

I’m. not. Perfect.

And I don’t ever want anyone to get that impression from me. The insecurities that I harness are case study worthy. Yes, psychologists might love me. I make light and joke to keep from crying because, well…I’m a mess.

But, then that’s the beauty of this blog. I’M A MESS! I’m not writing this blog from a state of perfection. And I’m not to come here telling you all that it’s okay to be broken. I mean it is. But the goal is not to be broken. Sure, God can use me in any state, but the goal is to be healed and whole! And that’s my goal: for God to take these pieces of me; those ugly things that I hate to share and allow Him to put them together into the most beautiful piece of art that I never thought I could be.

And, as I’m here, sharing my most flawed and imperfect self with you, I realize that I don’t need to have it all together to share it with you. My marriage doesn’t have to be considered “goals” for you to be encouraged. I don’t have to be the world’s greatest mother that all other mothers aspire to be. My attitude doesn’t need to be perfect (although, I’m still working on that. I’m still working on it ALL!). I don’t have to be anything other than me. And that will be enough.

So, don’t think that you have to have it all together for God to use you. As you allow Him to use you and have full control, He’ll take those small pieces—through your obedience in following Him—and mend you back together piece by piece. That flawed individual that you once hated to admit you are will turn into a magnificent masterpiece, fashioned by the greatest artist alive; the Potter, Himself. The only one who could make beauty from the sheer ugliness and dust that we are.

So, forgive yourself for not being perfect and making mistakes. In fact, expect it! Once you do, you’ll realize why we need—have always needed—God. This is a journey not a sprint. And as we continue to make these realizations, we’ll get faster—stronger. We won’t be perfect. We’ll mess it up. But we know that as long as we keep going, we’ll get there. Like I said…together.

I’m not perfect and I gotta tell you…it’s beautiful.