If I were thin, I'd be dangerous

Sometimes, like every day, I ask myself - had I been born with a knock out bod, or legs that could stop a clock, would I be happy? (Uh, yeah!) If I could trade this hypo-metobolic, swashbuckling mess for a svelte, statuesque physique, would that change my life for the better? (Uh, HECK YEAH!!) If I looked more like, say...oh my gosh, any ONE of my numerous, gorgeous real-life friends (and not Fakebook friends, I actually know these gals) would I have more money? Be happily married? Good question.

Although I know what God's Word says about comparing myself to others and I GET that He Himself made me beautiful and unique (yaddah, yaddah, whatever), these are questions, maybe even lies, I let float through my head during a normal day.

Last night while watching the 3rd and final Presidential Debate (insert boos or hollers here), I thought it would be a scream if I bet my friends ---- "If Hillary wins, we all get nose-piercings!" I thought about announcing that to my pals and them rolling their eyes at me instead of howling in laughter like I did. Wouldn't that be rad? I'm how old? Oh, I forget. But I'm ready for some drastic midlife crisis slash piercing. (Oh how lame. Is that the best I can do?)

...Sorry, I was just finishing up serving the children a massaged kale salad for lunch. Ok fine, Red Baron frozen pizza.

Then I thought a tattoo would really shock 'em. But then I remembered I don't have any area, rather mass, on me that would be an acceptable canvas for ink. I hate my arms. My back. My legs. My... Well I DO have a very handsome arches. So a tattoo on the soles of my feet? Oh, this is just dumb.

Don't believe me? Take my friend Trulissa* for instance. She's beautiful, smart and slender. She's married to a lawyer and presently lives in Italy (formerly a resident of Hawaii and who knows where she'll end up next. Certainly not Eddystone.) She has the perfect life because she is pretty, right?

Then there's my friend, Smaroline*. With the looks of a Glamour Magazine model (is that still in publication?) she too is married to a lawyer, lives very, very comfortably, she travels and her husband is her best friend. Because she is stunning, right?

Lastly, my friends Mindy*, Planet* and Tadrienne* (it's so hard to pick just one). Oh and my cousin Mauren*. All married to men that adore them. They live in homes the likes I've only seen in magazines, are happy, travel, have the wherewithal to buy virtually anything they want. All because they're so good looking, right?

Surely that can't be the truth, but fighting these thoughts has become my job of late.

So what does God say about me?

Proverbs 31:30 Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain: but a woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised. (Now we're talkin'!)

And because years ago I decided to stop living for myself and gave my heart to Jesus,

1 Peter 2:9 But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light.

I may not feel like radiant royalty, but God says that I am. So I'm just going to have to take Him on His word.

Maybe it's a good thing I'm not drop dead gorgeous. I'd be dangerous.

*Names have been changed to protect the fabulous.