And the Ants Come Marching Proudly In

So you know how they say guys with small penises make up for it with big personalities and egos? They have an inferiority complex and overcompensation or something? I kinda have that same issue. Well, not in regards to a small penis (I mean, clearly mine is huge), but I definitely feel the need to overcompensate. See, incase you somehow didn't notice, I'm tiny. Like, tiny. People comment on it all the time. I have a small build and I'm skinny. Just the way I am. But since I don't weigh very much, I'm the one that it's easy to pick up and throw into the pool, or just pick up in general. You know how people sometimes walk along and bump each other accidentally-on-purpose? Well half the time this action results in me either 1. Falling, 2. Stumbling and having to catch my balance, or 3. Nearly falling and the person who bumped me having to grab my arm and rescue me. It's a little awkward. So pretty much I'm small, quiet, and easily pushed over. I don't feel big and strong, but I want to. So maybe I don't really overcompensate, but I try so hard to be big and strong and brave and tough and make up for the fact that I'm really just small and insecure.
And then I have moments like tonight to remind me that, quite frankly, I'm not.
Twice a month, at my pool, we have what's called an inservice. We basically practice our lifeguarding/saving skills and review stuff, just to make sure we're all 150% ready for any and every possible emergency (and don't worry, we're stellar). This month's main theme was endurance. We did an Indian-Run around the lazy river. I was all pumped and ready for it. I run or swim almost every day, do weights, ab workouts, and yoga. I would like to think I'm pretty well in shape and strong. When it came my turn to run to the front of the line...it took me nearly three times around the lazy river. For most people, it only took one to one-and-a-half times. I was out of breath and struggling to get to the front of the line. I looked weak, pathetic, small, and helpless. And I felt all of those things as well.
I don't like to feel hopeless. I don't like to look weak. My dear prideful self wanted to do so well on that Indian-Run. I wanted to look strong and fit. I wanted people to see that I could do anything. I wanted to seem strong. But I didn't. And I had to deal with that. In that moment I felt so small, pathetic, and worthless.
I feel like that often. I don't say that to have a pity party or complain about myself. I admit to that because it is a huge fault. And something I'm realizing, praying through, and trying to change. Because what I've realized is this, the vast majority of the time I allow what others think of me (or what I imagine they are thinking of me) to rule my emotions. I mean yeah, I have tons of faults. And I suck at a lot of things. And the vast majority of the time, I'm not smart, pretty, funny, outgoing, or skilled enough.
But the fact of the matter is, I will always fall short in someone's eyes, because no one is ever perfect. I will never ever be perfect or strong enough. And there's beauty in that. There is beauty in imperfection, and strength in weakness. Every flaw and weakness I have is like a crack in a wall. The wall is full of scratches and chips in the paint, little cracks run like ravines along it. But then someone comes along and patches the wall with mortar, filling in each line and ditch. The wall is made whole and new, stronger and better. That's me. I'm broken and weak. Guess who isn't? And where I am weak, He is strong. Where I fail, He prevails. Where I falter, He presses on. When I fall, He picks me up. When I sin, He forgives me. When I'm not good enough, He is.

Recently I've been forgetting all those very important truths. I've been allowing my weaknesses and imperfections to take over. Rather than focusing on the fact that no matter what, I am loved, I have been focusing on the moments when people have not cared about me, or have left me, or haven't wanted me, or when I haven't been good enough (and yes, that could possibly have maybe had sorta something kinda smallish to do with a boy). And looking at it, I can clearly see how, especially in the last week, I have just been "in a funk." And that funk was pretty self-focused on me being better and stronger in the eyes of the people around me. That is not the way it goes. That's not the way I should live. That shouldn't be my focus.

So the conclusion is simple. I'm flawed. I'm weak. I'm helpless. I'm never going to be super big and strong. I will never be perfect. I will always fall short or mess up. But the wonderful news is this: it doesn't matter, because I'm good enough for my Best Friend.