People often write things on my wall or on this blog about how encouraging I am, or what an inspiration to others I am, and so on.
I think sometimes that those people might be surprised at this Carol that sometimes lives in my skin.
She's not so nice.
Her words are not always kind and gentle.
Her spirit is sometimes overcome with anger and bitterness.
Her heart is not always soft and compassionate.
Sometimes this Carol, the one who invades my heart and mind, is mean-spirited. Sometimes she yells at her husband and shakes her fist at the world.
Sometimes she thinks more highly of herself than she ought.
Sometimes she's just a big fat beotch.
Sometimes she doesn't want to cook or clean or do one more load of laundry or answer a single other question or make one more decision about anything, including where to go for dinner or what to wear or anything else.
Sometimes, this Carol, the one who speaks on my behalf, sometimes I like to let her out. Sometimes I like to let her talk. And sometimes I wish I could lock her in a trunk and throw it to the bottom of the deepest sea.
All that to say, you might be surprised that I am not always inspirational or encouraging or even nice. Thank God that His mercies are new every morning.
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