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Why I’m okay with being obnoxious

This is a picture of my childhood friend, Karen and me at our 20th high school reunion. Do you want to know what I enjoyed about that night? That I was able to enjoy being there without being nervous about whether or not some wildly elaborate made up story about my life would hold up under scrutiny. I figured out a long time ago that I am a very square peg surrounded by round holes. Trying to fit into those holes simply wore me down and slowly chipped away at the person I was meant to be.

That is not to say that I am completely satisfied with every aspect of me. I am always striving to become the person God wants me to be. But God, not someone else’s ideal picture of what a 43 year old wife and mother of two is supposed to be.

That’s why I’m okay with being obnoxious. Some of you might be wondering if “katdish” is some sort of persona that has been created that allows me to say things that I might not otherwise have the guts to say as myself. Let me clear that up for you. This is me. Warts, monkey butts and all. Those of you who know me in real life can attest to this. Jon Acuff paid me a great left handed compliment at Catalyst One Day in Atlanta earlier this year. He said, “You’re not obnoxious, you’re just from Texas.” Thanks, Jon. I big red monkey butt heart you, too.

I’m not smart enough to keep up with more than one personality. Besides, I think doing that drains your soul and robs you of a valuable witness to the power of God’s grace – for the sinner and the saint. And for the record, you ain’t no saint! (Please, no theological arguments here, you know what I mean.)

Sometimes I say things that should probably have been left unsaid. But in the non-cyber world, I have my husband and friends who love me enough to tell me to shut up. In the blogosphere, I have a handful of good friends that will do the same. (You know who you are.)

I’m totally okay with someone not liking me. I think caring more about what people think and less about what God thinks is a horrible, wretched way to live. Now here’s a newsflash, if you don’t like me, there’s a pretty good chance I don’t like you either. But that’s okay. God calls us to love one another. He never said anything about like. Just as long as we’re not walking around with giant planks in our eyes, I’m cool with that.

This much I know is true. While I am a product of genetics and life experiences, the essence of me has remained much the same as it was when I was a silly, talkative, klutzy little girl who found herself in the spotlight more often for misbehaving than behaving. If you cannot fathom how that silly little girl might allow God to witness for Him, then you don’t get me. Which is okay. You don’t have to.

The following statement is intended for those who need to hear it. Clearly, some of you grasped this concept a long time ago. But I offer it anyway:

May I be so bold as to offer some advice? Stop trying so hard to keep up appearances. Accept that you are broken. Even if, like me, you have been smashed with a hammer. God’s light often shines brightest through the broken vessel. I for one, will love you for it.

God? He loves you, regardless. His love was poured out for you at Calvary. He doesn’t need you. But He desires your abiding love with all of His heart.

How cool is that?