The real me

Sometimes, I feel like I only post the best of me.
My mom and sister tell me I seem perfect based on my blog. [in a good way]
They tell me how awesome I am and sweet and optimistic.
I'm often like that, I guess.
But I realized, I think I tend to present the best of me. Because of the purpose of this blog.
I want to be more real.

Sometimes I don't blog because I don't know what to say. I don't feel like I have anything profound, I'm tired of blogging events, and I want this to be a place of joy and encouragement. And I don't always feel that way.

So who is Jordanna?

I want to be:
The fun bubbly one, the funny one, the life of the party.
The one who books spontaneous trips to go random fun places,
who laughs 100 times a day, like kids do.
The one who always looks to God first,
who loves unconditionally and selflessly,
and who is never too busy for a heart-to-heart.

And sometimes, I think I am.

But there's the other side of me:
I get frustrated. often.
I'm not that funny [well, sometimes I am ;)].
Sometimes I don't know what to say, and I get nervous in big groups of people.
I spend more time thinking about all the things I want and need to do rather than laughing about what IS.
I often ask friends and family before I ask the Lord big and small things.
I am selfish and often want to do things just because it's what I want.
I don't take advice very well and I often do the opposite thing, and then call it independence.
I manage to fill my days from the moment I wake up to the moment I fall asleep with who-knows-what.
I want to try new things, have adventures, and feel different --
yet I am so often afraid.
I love to feel special, and get so bummed when I don't.
I feel boring and un-fun if I don't have fun things to talk about.
I never want to miss out on anything, but end up often missing out on quite a lot.
I am insecure, I lack confidence in many areas, and I need to hear that I am pretty and loved often.
I'm tired almost always-- I never go to bed early enough, and I never want to get up in the morning...
unless I don't have to go to work.
I can't decide what's worse - having to make dinner or do the dishes afterward. I think the reason I hate making dinner is because of the dishes that follow.
I don't really hate making dinner. I really want to. But I'm afraid of spending time and investing a part of me, just to fail.
I want to save the world, and yet I'm often just strong enough to utter a small thanks to the Lord for saving me.
I get grumpy, I get offended, I'm sensitive and I often cry about seemingly unimportant things.
I sometimes don't respond to invitations because I'm afraid to plan into the future.
I have good days. I have really great days. And I have really bummer days.

Often, my mind goes crazy thinking about things that are not necessarily true.

So I remember what is true.

Jesus is the son of God.
Jesus is God.
He died for my sins, and His saving grace is the reason I am alive.
My joy and hope and peace is found in Jesus.
He is my strength and the reason I live and move and breathe.
I will trust Him with my life. I often don't know how, but by His grace I will.
He loves His children. I am His child. So He loves me.

Any joy found in the words and images in this blog is by the grace of God.
He is the reason I live, and sing, and write, and love, and live.

These are pieces of the real me.
I think.
I'm still discovering who I am.