I am independent.

Stubborn.

Smug.

Love myself.

Hate to fail.

Take-charge.

Crushed one potential boyfriend when I said “I don’t need you.”
(He wasn’t satisfied with being wanted.)

Don’t need help.

I can handle it.

Have the right answers.

All this?

The world says it’s a recipe for success.

Then God ripped off the blindfold.

Made me see.

Truth.

I’m rebellious.

Over-confident yet insecure.

Proud.

Dominant.

Wound with words.

I am Pharisee.

Who does God bless?

The broken.

The humble.

The meek.

God loves me.

So He broke me.

Complete collapse.

Falling short.

Not all that.

Stumbling, trapped in muck.

Ugly heart full of self-love and god-complex.

Love of things God hates.

Faith built on sand of false assurance and self-help.

I need God.

I need forgiveness.

I need help.

…help to hate what God hates.

…help to love what God loves.

…help to die to myself.

…help to live for Him with the personality He gave me.

My personality was my god

until God showed me what a useless god it was.

Linked up to this week’s Faith Jam on personality and faith.