Knocked Up and Knocked Over

This life. Some days it just punches you in the gut. 

I had a few moments that knocked me over recently. Like, I’m not being hyperbolic. An hour ago, I literally tripped and fell on the porch. Bruises and scrapes errwhere. Add it to the pregnancy swelling, judgy elastic waistbands, hormonal breakouts, frizzy hair... And I'm ready for the Miss America pageant, baby!

Adding to all that, we were treated very poorly by a car salesman yesterday. It was one of those situations where a person makes you believe on the outside all the ugly lies you battle on the inside—thoughts like "You guys have NO idea what you're doing with your lives. You can't afford this? Losers! Who said you were qualified to adult?" 

Stuff that makes you wanna kick the devil in his gross, lying, fiery butt. What a turd that guy is.

So now I'm lying here in bed, feeling both the internal and external scrapes & bruises... And I'm just over it. 

I quit.

I quit aspiring to look like pregnant ladies on Pinterest. 

I quit trying to keep up with the Joneses and Johnsons and Jacobsons (MAN, there's too much to keep up with!). 

I quit battling the unsolvable "I should work more/I should be with the kids more" struggle that rages on in my brain day in and day out. 

I quit trying to look like I have ANY of my junk together, cause JUNK BE EVERYWHERE, people! That's just where I'm at right now! And that needs to be okay with you and, more importantly, with me. Ain't nobody knocking down my door to put me on the cover of "World's Most Flawless Woman" magazine, and I quit wanting them to.

I'm a mess. The big secret is: WE ALL ARE. So I'm letting myself off the hook in this moment. 

Jesus, You are enough. 

Spirit, You are a present friend. 

Father, You are mighty on the throne. If I tried to sit on it, I'd probably fall off anyway.

All the praise hands that He is God and I am not!