as it pertains to me

There was a little girl,
And she had a little curl
Right in the middle of her forehead.
When she was good
She was very, very good,
And when she was bad she was horrid.

(a poem sometimes attributed to Henry Wadsworth Longfellow)

Okay, so it doesn't totally pertain to me. I have no curl.

I hope normalcy includes struggling inwardly regularly.

Trust me, what I'm about to say is not out of boasting, but more out of confession of knowing it not to be true. People credit me with being sweet.

Compliments say more about the kindness of those offering them, than those of whom they are speaking. I suppose as we age we realize that kind words come from encouraging mouths and are often not deserved, but more of an attempt to spur one not to give up.

Kind words toward me sometimes cause me to do a little reflecting. And the reflection is less than appealing. The closer I approach the mirror to see who I really am, the more apparent my flaws.

And still somehow He lavishes His blessings on the life of this little child of His.

The older I get the more I see my faults, but the more I see His blessings.

That's amazing grace.