Bible Schmible

A gal asked me something today that I just know God found highly amusing.

How do you know so much of the Bible?

You see, this girl had clearly made up her mind about me long ago.  She'd labeled me and filed me and put me in a box that was the kind of box that didn't house the Good News.

I read it, I replied quite matter of factly.

And the confusion that possessed her face was most assuredly The. Definition. Of. Priceless.

Like I said, God was chuckling. 
I was certain I could hear it.

I know she really didn't mean for it to sound as condescending as it probably appears.  She just doesn't know me.  And all she does know of me is that I tend to talk about boys (Moi? NO!) and sex and relationships and I have no filter and she is easily offended.
(And I, Drama Queen that I am, greatly enjoy making the frigidly pious uncomfortable.  Sometimes people's tightly wound feathers could use a good shaking.  Let's open up the New Testament and read about Jesus' shenanigans getting folks' shrouds in a twist).

The thing is, I am what I am.

I love Jesus.
I also like making people laugh.
I like pushing boundaries.
I don't blend in.

I also love sex.
But that doesn't mean I give it away like candy either.
I can count my lovers on one hand, thank you.
Not that it's any of your damn business, anyway.

But then again is my walk with God any more of your business?
And whether or not I have one, doesn't He want you to love me as much as He does?
As much as He loves me in spite of all my falling short of His glory?

Or do I need to sugar coat this Sunday school lesson  for you?
You've been a believer for twenty years but walking in love is still an unpracticed concept.
And you didn't even notice that your tone of voice you used with which to speak to me changed dramatically once you discovered I serve the same God you do.

Sigh.
Let's try another tactic.

I, like you, have a spirit and a flesh.  And they are at war with one another.  That means sometimes I want things that aren't what God wants for me.  Think the little kid sneaking cookies from the cookie jar.  Only my cookies are sexy cookies. 
Tall, dark, can't take their eyes off me cookies. 
Mmmm....Yummy.

Ahem.
Where was I?

But with all my delicious debacles of debauchery I've also learned a thing or two about the Big G.
Here's a little secret I'll let you in on:
He doesn't ask us to do anything that's not in our best interest.
He knows His shizzy.
I'm the one whose straight up moronic.
I'm just moronic with sparkle.
And I'm not so pridefully moronic to not admit to it.

I am also intelligent enough to know if I give myself everything I want when I want it sometimes that's not what's best for me.  Sometimes discipline now brings joy in the future.  And this gal wants God's best in her life.  God's best kicks Resa's best's ass every day of the week and twice on Sundays.  I've spent enough years managing to get what I want to happen. 
I'm not always the brightest rhinestone on the tiara.
And somehow I've finally come to accept the Big G knows what He's doing.
I, alas, do not.

But what I do know is that people are more complex than we give them credit for.
There's definitely more than meets the eye.
And just because I don't look and talk and act like all the drones in your youth group doesn't mean I don't actively strive to be the woman of God He created me to be.

And I certainly am not letting this girls judgment steal my joy.

He knows my heart.

And everyone else?  Well they can just fall in the book of Matthew.
Because I will bless those who curse me.  I will do good to those who hate me.  I will pray for those who spitefully use and persecute me.

Even if it kills me.
And as Grandma said, It. Just. Might.