rage against the machine

As I put on and took off every article of work out gear I owned, I poked and prodded at my body.  The mirror silently mocked me, as I wished away his temple – the vary place he chooses to dwell, in me- to call home, despite its bumps and bruises.

No, our King does not demand luxury, or a polished palace of perfection. He first chose hay and now he’s chosen me.

Rather than being grateful for all my body gives me and honouring the beauty in how I was created, I focus on every morsel of imperfection.  I allow the taunting to suffocate me till I’m knees to the floor weeping in despair.

I’m not good enough, pretty enough or perfect enough. The minute I start to let go and start to live free- to not live handcuffed to his lies and bound by chains of perfectionism- I’m right back here, hating myself.

I know better, but still I lie myself, buying into Satan’s game.

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He taunts back.

It’s ok. Just get back on track; return to your old routine. You’ve got this. You can control this.

I stop the tears and hear the thoughts for what they are. Lies.

_________________

We return from the gym, that sweet friend and I. And as we stand in the kitchen I listen as the lies spill out, this time from her mouth and not my own.

The hate. The comparison. The despair of imperfection.

The if only’s of wanting to look like so and so.

STOP! I said. This needs to stop. We’re stripping each other of our worth. While I’m tearing myself apart, you’re begging to be someone else and we’re quietly killing ourselves!

We are more than our bodies. More than the food. More than the numbers of times we hit the gym.

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It needs to stop. Right here. Right now. It begins with you and me.

Friend, We were made in his imagine and crafted with purpose; a masterpiece uniquely of its own. There will never be another you in all the world, so truly what are you waiting for?

When we own our self worth and the temple in which we’ve been given, we subconsciously give others permission to do the same. When we shine our light and embrace our imperfections, we allow others the space to also.

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If I’d stop comparing, so would you and together we’ll find healing and wholeness. 

Friends, Satan’s winning a silent holocaust, while you and I rally him on.

Let’s start living like real women and stop using each other as his victory lap!

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Today, call out the beauty in your girlfriend,  your mother or even a stranger. Tell them what you love about them, what you believe is their greatest feature.

Yes. I know we’re more than our looks but taking a moment, to honour the beauty of creation- cause thats what you and I are- won’t kill us or make us arrogant.

Maybe it’ll be the one sentence she’ll remember all day, that will put a spring in her step and help her thank God for what he’s blessed her with… herself!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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3 thoughts on “rage against the machine

  1. Pingback: To save her from herself | Seeking Grace

  2. Pingback: Finding “Your People” and building community | Seeking Grace

  3. Pingback: When all you see, Is who you don’t wanna be | Seeking Grace

For a long time I felt unnoticed and longed for community- to find “my people.” You are it! Please know your presence here means something to me, so don’t be a stranger. I read every comment both on the blog and on social media and do my absolute best to respond to every one!

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