How God made me

I’m a mess. The entire human race is a mess because of sin. But that’s not how God made us. He made us perfect and made no mistakes.

He made ME perfect. And made no mistakes.

However, it’s SO difficult to love myself. I don’t like myself. I don’t think anyone else does either – and when they do, I’m truly and honestly surprised. Every time. I find it easy to ask “why am I like this?” and very, very difficult, if not impossible, to say “thank you God that you made me me”.

But who are you, a human being, to talk back to God? Shall what is formed say to the one who formed it, ‘Why did you make me like this?’
(Romans 9:20)

There. By complaining how I’m so bad and useless and stupid and failure and what else, I’m saying to God that He made a mistake with me. But I can’t say that to Him, can I? Well, of course I can, but that’s not a fair thing to say. It’s not true.

Instead, I think I should say:

“How did You make me? How did You mean me to be? What would I be like, if I was indeed perfectly as You meant me to be? How can I become more like you meant me?”

David understood this and thanked God for it:

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
(Ps. 139:14)

In the Finnish Bible this is translated “I am a miracle“. I love that. The idea always fills me with awe. If only I could truly understand that with my heart and believe it and claim it.

Sometimes I’ve heard teaching that the passage “Love your neighbor as yourself” (Matthew 22:36-40) means that you must love yourself. If you don’t love yourself, you can’t love your neighbour either. I don’t know if that’s true, but it makes me think if that’s why my spiritual life seems to be going nowhere?

I can’t remember having felt loved during my childhood. I remember constantly feeling that I was “excess” or a “spare”. To my father, it seemed, nothing was enough. No matter how good my report card was, there always was something that should’ve been even better. And to my sister I was an idiot and a pain in the b*tt. Mom… can’t remember any fondness from her either. So it’s very, very difficult to believe that anyone, including God, would ever accept me as I am.

That’s sad.

But God says I’m a miracle. I want to believe that. After all, He knows best, right?



Diary of Thankfulness

I have decided to start writing down all kinds of blessings and reasons for thankfulness that I can find in my life. I already have a small notebook for that, but as always, the first words are oh, so, so, SO difficult!

I hate fake things. Things that are good, yeah, but which only come from one’s head and not the heart. I’m an all-or-nothing person and that makes it very difficult for me to keep track of good things if/when I’m somehow down. When I’m down, I’m DEEP down, all the way. And when I’m high (well not high, but… you get the drift) it’s higher than the highest heaven. In the middle… let’s just say, there’s not much there.

Positive thinking methods and such seem to me like brain washing, convincing oneself to believe things that aren’t true. But now I decided to try to teach myself to remember, that even when things are bad, the good things are still there. And like it’s said in 1. Thess. 5:18:

give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus

I know the list is long when I start writing them down. But of course the first one(s) should be special. They start the entire book. So I can’t have it be something like “I have a nice dog”. And once I write it down in the book, it’s there. So I need to be sure I choose right.

Sometimes I wish I’d be (way) more impulsive.



Tired, lost, discouraged

After just three posts in this blog I’m facing a major blogger’s block. Post ideas come and go – or just go without even coming – and I’m left with a blank screen. Even the ideas I manage to catch before forgetting them, won’t evolve into posts.

I’m tired. Too much going on in my life at the moment. Too many unresolved issues. Too many stress factors. Too depressing a world. And probably because of all that and on top of it my pain levels and other symptoms have flared. So I get nothing done but a blank stare. And that’s sad, because I was already excited that maybe finally God let’s me go somewhere. I was eager to search and find. And then…

picture credit

Was I too eager? Trying too much myself? Going for a wrong direction?

What happened to “Come near to God and he will come near to you” (James. 4:8)? I don’t know. Seems to me one passage tells not to try by myself (in my own strength) the other says, one must be proactive. Where’s the balance? I’m at a loss anyway.

Therefore God has mercy on whom he wants to have mercy, and he hardens whom he wants to harden.” (Rom 9:18)

That’s scary, you know! I’m constantly afraid that He’s had it with me, finally, for good, and that’s it. And that’s pretty much too much to take even as a thought. And at the same time, I’m almost beyond having any energy to even care. And that’s even more scary.

I’m just so tired.



I’m my worst enemy

I love Max Lucado’s writings. They’re so full of love and grace and acceptance and encouragement and… the list of beautiful adjectives that would fit here is endless. Reading those texts just makes me feel like I’m melting in all the love. Today’s devotional is one of the startlingly merciful ones.

“If God can tolerate my mistakes, can’t I tolerate the mistakes of others? If God can overlook my errors, can’t I overlook the errors of others? If God allows me with my foibles and failures to call him Father, shouldn’t I extend that same grace to others?”

The thing is, my problem is not being merciful to others. I find it very hard, if not impossible, being merciful to myself! All fiery passages of the Bible hit home hard and precisely, but with the positive ones I find myself doubting every time: Oh, no, that was said to Israeli people. I’m Finnish! Or: Nah, thatäs for Timothy, or John, or Paul… It never says “Thomasina”.

And while I may succeed in something (like believing Jesus is the Son of God), failing any one of the what-to-do’s or how-to-be’s, mean in my world that I’m a lost case with no hope at all. Thus I hardly dare calling myself a Christian. And I think that’s even one of the reasons I find it so very hard to write my name with a capital letter.

I’ll probably write another post about this at some point.


No green bubbles

Whenever my brain is off (which is often…) I play a bubble game in facebook. It’s something to do without the need of thinking, because I can’t always just sleep. In the game you have a certain amount of bubbles to shoot with and another amount to shoot at. You’re supposed to shoot groups of the same colour bubbles as your bullet bubble is, so that they become a group of three or more and burst away.
Sometimes the game offers special challenges. Like shoot this amount of green bubbles before the time runs out, to win a price. Okay, fair enough – but usually just then I happen to be in the middle of levels where there are either very few bubbles to shoot, or worse, NO green bubbles!!!

I think sometimes being a believer is like facing a challenge of shooting green bubbles but there are no green bubbles available.

Of course, in God’s world nothing is ever missing or lacking. It’s just me being colour blind and not seeing what’s actually right there in front of me. What I don’t understand is, why doesn’t the Great Healer just heal my eyes so that I could see the green again and would be able to function?

Well, God only knows. And at least for now He won’t tell me why.

And to be honest, that really frustrates me.