No. I'm not talking about those 22 year olds posting on Instagram with the perfectly messy messy-bun. The cute tank top. The filter that gives the exact amount of beautiful color to their skin - somewhere between Powder and Tan Mom. No, not that kind of woke up like this. I mean the real kind. Genuinely waking up with the same grotesque mutation hanging on my shoulders that I've covered up, rebuked, ignored and on and on for years: Guilt.
Guilt taps me on the shoulder almost every morning. She vies for first place and to be the first voice of my day. Unfortunately, because I am not a morning person, I usually at best, hear her...and at worst, listen to her.
Before you get too excited, I am not about to confess a plethora of juicy sins for which you can begin your own blog about me. I didn't drink myself into a blackout last night. I didn't gossip. I didn't yell at my family. I didn't lie. I wasn't with another man. As a matter of fact, I ministered on television last night. Mark & I did one of our FAVORITE things to do - we gave opportunity for some younger ministers to be able to sing & speak on TV with us. A huge ministry philosophy in our life is take people with you! If you're on our team, where we go, you go. So I was really happy last night. I was fulfilled. I felt good about myself. So why did guilt whisper her devilish accusations this morning? Two words: French Toast.
I ate French toast at 9PM last night...and bacon...and half an order of biscuits and gravy...after I ate three cheese sticks as an appetizer. Yep. I was feeling so good (and hungry) that I celebrated at a greasy diner in Duluth, GA. When I woke up this morning my first thought was "You are disgusting. You have no self discipline. Just look at you. 40 years old with the belly of the second trimester. Why do you even try anymore? You're going to fail...like always."
Now before you judge my dramatic reenactment of my thought patterns, just know it's true. No one talks about it. Especially not someone in my position. You see, I'm a motivator! I'm a cheerleader! I'm a visionary! I AM A LEADER!...I am also a woman. A Southern woman surrounded by butter and fried everything. Surrounded by magazines and reality TV and movies and the latest "WOW! Can you believe she's SO OLD?! She looks amazing -Celebrities who are 35 but look like they are 12 and how you can have their super secret beauty plan so you won't look like and old hag and people will actually like you!" articles shared on Facebook. Sometimes it gets to me.
And then guilt has this friend. His name is Scale. He stares at me when I'm trying to get dressed or before I step into the shower in the morning. I moved him across the bathroom far away from me because I decided that Scale was schizophrenic a long time ago. He's been so AMAZING that he's given me some of the best days of my life...but he's been so cruel that he's caused me some of the deepest shame I've ever known. I try to stay away from him...but I always go back.
So what is it with guilt? Why does it haunt even the strongest of us? It may not be your weight. Maybe it's your wrong habits, your time management, your family, your home, your relationship with God, your past - where does guilt find the door to your mind cracked open?
I have one more secret. I figured out how to shut her up: I love who I am. I am not perfect. I LOVE French toast. I know I shouldn't eat it at 9M so I'll do better. I NEVER repeat her lies out loud. I may never be a size 2 but I'm really ok with that fact. I LOVE French toast! In order to weigh 110 lbs I'd NEVER be able to eat French toast again or cheese dip or ice cream or 5 Guys or chicken parm - like NEVER EVER & I'm just not ready to give those things up permanently. I have fillings because I've had cavities. I'm 40 and probably about to get braces. I have stretch marks and spider veins and these weird bones on my ankles and wrists. I color my hair not for fun but to cover my grays. There's stuff sagging on me and the circles under my eyes are sometimes so dark I could go as Uncle Fester for Halloween. BUT I AM MADE IN THE IMAGE OF GOD...& guilt has NO right to force my eyes off the fact that I am exactly how He created me. Trust me, I'm all for being a good steward of my life and my body. Health is of the utmost importance. And God created cosmetic surgeons, y'all! But to be so obsessed with what I am not is a slap in the face of the One who has made me what I am. I work on my flaws. I don't ignore them...but they do not define me. My mistakes do not define me. My past does not define me. And French toast at 9PM does not define me.
So today I will renew my mind in the Word. I will spend time with my Creator. I'll ask the Holy Spirit to give me the plan that I need to be successful mind, body and spirit. I will rebuke the thoughts of generational curses like depression, heart disease, cancer, divorce, bankruptcy, anger, and everything else the enemy and this world tries to get me to buy into. I am a NEW CREATION through Christ. OLD THINGS are all gone - He's made all things NEW! Mark Haston gets a "new model" every day! My crows feet are from laughing, my stretch marks are from my beautiful babies, my gray hair is a sign I've lived long enough to earn them, my past mistakes are the foundation on which I've built every success I've accomplished. And my love of French toast? Well, that's just for delicious, delicious fun :)
I woke up like this - strong and able to quickly tell guilt to shut up and get out of my house. It's going to be a GREAT day! I'm off to change the world! Cheers...
