Thursday, September 16, 2010

Dear Satan,

Dear Satan,

First, I just want to say that I am sick of you. I can't think for 5 minutes on something without your creepy crawly throughts eeking their way in. I have quite a list of things that I need to address with you, but here are some thing that are really ticking me off.

1. Stop with the guilt trip. I see so many beautiful wonderful people, including myself that are plagued with this freakish thought that they somehow aren't good enough or don't do a good enough job at whatever they think they could do better. GIVE IT UP! God created each of us in perfect way and gave us a grace that doesn't require a certian standard of "good" behavior. I don't have to be perfect, I don't have to go to church all the time, I don't have to say a quick prayer of repentence if I let a cussword slip, I don't have to give extra at church if I know I spent too much money on beer this week. Grace doesn't work like that. Grace is free and unlimited, so quit making me feel guilty for things that I am forgiven for.

2. Enough of the keeping up with the Jones's idea. I am also sick of this. I love my car, I love my house, I love my clothes, I love my life the way it is. I am choosing to be content with what I have. So quit making me feel that the grass on the other side of the Jones's fence is greener.

3. Guilt again, ugh, this ugly ugly thing! Quit making me feel guilty about the way I am raising my children. Quit making me feel like they eat too much junk food, they watch too much TV, they play too rough, they have too many toys, they don't write enough letters, they can't read well enough, they don't play outside enough. God has given me the ability to raise my children in a wonderful way. I am doing my best, so leave me alone!

4. This is the last thing I am going to talk about and then I have better things to do. Quit with the whole "I should look like a model" thing. I am pledging to be ok with being a little chubby, having too many freckles, sometimes ratty hair, crooked teeth, and some funny looking toes. God made me this way for a reason and I trust Him! I pledge to keep my body healthy, so I can serve God to the best of my ability, but I will never look like a model, so quit telling me I should loose weight, get a tan, dye my hair, and get braces. I am content with my body the way it is.

So, Satan, leave me alone. I am done dealing with all of your lies.