|With our firstborn, Therese during her First Communion recently.|
I don't know about you but I like telling people my real age. :) I feel that it is a gift to be given another year in life and so, I do not mind one bit that I am getting older (hopefully wiser).
Today, I turn 38.
Wow. Big age.
At 43, my own mother passed away and so in just five years I will be as old as my Mama was when she went Home to our Creator.
It is true that death puts things in perspective and with the end in mind, in September of this year, 2013, I "killed" myself.
I died to myself.
I buried the old Nikka.
I usually have seasons of my life when I have these "rebirths", when I tell God that the old is gone and that I am reborn....only to get caught up with life and "resurrect" my old sins of pride, envy, etc... You know, become a zombie again.
But for reasons that can only be attributed to God, this year, when the Lord showed me my
"true self" - my most sinful self, which horrified and shamed me - in increments and then all at once, I saw myself for who and what I truly was, and it was NOT a good sight.
I was :
- full of pride
- full of resentment
- full of self-righteousness
- full of envy
- full of bitterness
In short, I was full of myself and not as "good" as I thought myself to be. I was a sinful, prideful woman.
That was the reason I deactivated from Facebook that same day I "killed" myself.
Facebook, for all its wonderful connectivity elements made me :
...for the most part.
It is not bad in and of itself, but for me,
Nikka IN Facebook, made for a very, very shallow woman who "played it up" to an "audience".
It also made my thoughts soooooo NOISY. I was noisy. People were noisy. Events were noisy. Raves were noisy. Rants were noisy. God couldn't tell me anything without having to shout perhaps and even then, He wouldn't still be able to get any point across. My own mind and spirit were too filled with worldly concerns that anything He would have said, would have simply fallen on deaf (or deafened) ears.
I used to think that this whole season of my life would be a hidden one. But because of a suggestion from my dear husband whom I respect, I am blogging about it.
I wrote on that fateful day that I "died" to self in my journal, that:
I really have let go... I really will let God lead me through my imperfect husband. And boy, is it liberating!