Peta vs the biggest spot in history.

Today I woke up with a spot.

Not just a little-hide-under-a-blob-of-concealer-spot. A huge-take-over-your-face-with-bright-red-inflamation spot.

On my chin.

Middle of.

Yep.

Peta-normally-blessed-with-clear-fresh-as-a-daisy-skin was today cursed with the spot of all spots.

I unaffectionately called it the ‘chin cyst’.

Much to Becca’s amusement. 

“Ha ha.”

Not!

I tried a number of things to combat the disproportionate-mild-swelling-of-my-face.

Firstly, I tried concealer. I’m not normally one for make up, but as this was a supreme emergency, I cracked out the emergency-only-use-on-fair-skin concealer.

Fail. 

That dealt with the redness, but the swelling was still making me look like a slightly out of proportion monster in the chin department.

Secondly, I put on one of my favourite white and bright blue striped dresses. 

This was my logic. If you need to distract from your face, wear the brightest possible colour on the rest of your body to draw attention away from ‘the spot’.

Moderately effective.

Nobody at work did that whole thing where they ‘stare at the spot’ instead of giving you eye contact.

And I do love that charity-shop-find dress.

Thirdly, I put on the new scarf that Lisa brought me for my birthday. If in complete need of emergency cover up, a scarf can simply be pulled up over the lower part of your face and shield the spot from view.

Now, given, that third one isn’t the most subtle method in the world. But if needs must, needs must.

And come 4pm this afternoon, needs must. 

This was one of those spots that’s deep under the skin. You can’t squeeze it, you can’t hide it, and it hurts like anything.

You can be moderately successfully in distracting others from it, but if anyone gets too close then they will see.

And you always know it’s there.

 

Now over the last week I’ve been writing my testimony in spoken word form. 

A poem.

A long one.

I was praying about how to capture something of my experiences in order to share with others.

To offer hope to others.

How to capture something of what God has done.

 

A song didn’t quite cut it.

A story was hard to ensure remained authentic.

But a poem seemed to feel right.

I woke at 5am one morning with all these words and phrases in my mind, partially formed.

So I’ve been writing.

And thinking.

 

About how things happen to us, sin happens to us and experiences happen to us.

And we have to deal with them.

Because if we don’t bring them before God, and talk them through with our friends and our mentors and repent, and forgive and let go… They can remain under the surface.

Festering.

Uncomfortable.

A bit like my spot.

Our bitterness, or our envy, or our refusal to repent, or our hardheartedness go deep under our skin. Spiritually.

You can’t squeeze it, you can’t hide it, and it hurts like anything.

You can be moderately successfully in distracting others from it, but if anyone gets too close then they will see.

And you always know it’s there.

 

But God has better plans and hopes for His children.

Plans of forgiveness, redemption and freedom.

Free from the chains of sin, the bondage of bitterness, and the darkness of shame.

Living in the light.

Dancing in the Light.

Not condemned.

Free.

To have unblemished-perfect-spiritual-skin.

 

And to share our stories.

 

One day soon, I might post my poem. 🙂

 

 

 

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