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Failure To Be Me

 I search the room looking from face to face with one word in mind.

Acceptance.

Thoughts are constantly running through my mind. 

“Do they accept me? What can I do to make them like me? 

I’ll bring that girl some coffee and comment on how cute her shoes are.

I’ll discuss last weekends football game with this guy to prove even though I’m a girl I can still talk football.

Maybe if I impress these people THEN they’ll accept me.”

 

And don’t even get me started with how I look. 

“Does my outfit look okay? Too dressy? Too casual? 

Wow that pimple could not be any bigger. 

And my hair…. OH MY GOSH my hair is wild right now. They say they loved my hair yesterday so I guess I’ll just keep it wild. 

Maybe if I look good to these people THEN they’ll accept me.”

 

I run circles around the room screaming for acceptance. No matter how loud I’m screaming acceptance in my head, I still hear Satan’s whisper.

Rejection. 

He says, “They don’t want you. They don’t need you. If you weren’t here, they wouldn’t even notice you were gone.”

 

Satan pounds these lies in my head. I want to ball up in a corner and cry, but instead I smile a little bigger and laugh a little louder because everyone loves a happy personality. At the end of the day I lie in bed exhausted from acceptance scavenging and cry to my Abba. 

 

My sweet sweet Abba. 

 

I crawl into His lap and lay my head on His chest as He wraps His arms around me. Quickly all the lies circling my mind disintegrate as His warm voice speaks truth over me. 

“My dear beloved, you are mine. 

I created you to be unique. There is no other like you. 

My daily thoughts of you outnumber the grains of sand. 

My affection beams down on you like rays of the sun.

Conforming to someone you think others will accept is failure to be you – my wonderful work. 

I accept you. I am proud of you. I love you.

My dear beloved, you are mine.”

 

Wow. 

 

My Abba accepts me. 

He is proud of me.

I am His beloved. 

 

Thank you Abba.

 

There is no need to be anyone other that who my Abba created me to be. 

I am the only Abigail with fiery wild hair and a radiant soul you will ever find. 

I am unique. 

My Abba created me that way.

Changing who I am to be accepted is failure to be Abba’s wonderful work. 

 

As my Abba is holding me in His arms I realize His wonderful work was accepted before the beginning of time. 

There is nothing else to be done.

I am accepted.