boxes

I like boxes, I guess. They're good for storing things.

The world/our culture is kind of like a box. Some people cram themselves inside it. Some people adventurously live outside of it.

And then there's...me. Stuck in the wrestling match between my true self and this fake self I become to please other people...and I start to wonder.




What do people think about me?

Do they like me? Do they think I'm pretty? Do they like the way I dress? Am I too shy? Too outgoing? Too naïve? Too expressive? Too “out there?”

Then I start trying to be this “person,” to try to fit into other people's expectations.

{Wait a second.}

Should I really let people's opinions of me define what I think about myself?

If they say I'm pretty, then I am? If they say I'm not pretty, then I'm not?

If you let people define you, you crawl into a {box} enclosed by society's pretty looking walls, decorated by society's expectations.

Here's my point. You're unique. You're you. You don't need the box.

I used to climb into the {box} of other people's opinions. I tried to change myself. Just so they would like me.

Then I remembered someone who likes me. All the time.

{Lightbuuuulb}

Jesus likes me. He loves who I am. He likes what I look like. He likes my naivety. He formed me and created me and there's no one exactly like me. Anywhere.

I live my life for Him. I listen to Him and He says I am His “MASTERPIECE” {whoah} eph. 2:10

Because I live for Christ and listen to Him, my life is thus lived outside the {box}which means I don't fit into the world's box. And I don't have to try to fit into the world's box.

And then I can breathe. And then I see that I was created for something better. I like me.

And I like what Jesus thinks about me. It's honest, everlasting, and He thinks I'M beautiful, and it's personal, just in the way He created me.

I like this Voice better.

Goodbye {box}. I don't really need you.

Peace, love, and torn up boxes,
julian