A Hustlin' SuperModel Kinda Love

I am one of those kids whose family seriously believed that I could be anything I wanted to be. Of course, they did have their preferences. My mom wanted me to be a hustler like Julia Roberts in Mystic Pizza.  Unfortunately, I do not have the pool skills or the body to hustle anyone out of anything more than a head nod.

 Growing up, my aunt thought I should be a super model. It literally wasn’t until after I graduated college that I finally realized that only in my family is 5 foot 4 inches considered the appropriate height for a super model. I was crushed.

My dad currently thinks I should quit my job and become a stand-up comedian. As ridiculous as it sounds, when he says it, I am tempted. Most days, sitting in a shady smoke filled hole in the wall attempting to make a few disengaged and disgruntled men laugh, sounds vastly more appealing than going to work and sitting behind a computer, but then I remember that I have never written a joke in my life, have a crippling case of stage fright and possess the ambition of disengaged and disgruntled man who spends his days sitting in smoke filled shady establishments. Although my family may see me through rose-colored glasses, I have never doubted that my family loves me, fiercely.  After a few minutes of being with them I am empowered, and start to believe I can do anything, even become the first hustling supermodel comedian. Comedy Central won’t know what hit them.


Yesterday was Monday.  As all Mondays go, I spent the day doing things that drain me in every possible way.  After a miserable and life-sucking workday, I raced to my car to plot my getaway. I am not sure how robbers do it in this city, but it’s impossible to get anywhere fast in Atlanta.  While I waited, staring helplessly at the 3 immoveable lanes of traffic ahead, my dear sweet friend called. I know, I know, it seems dangerous to FaceTime when you are driving, but I wasn’t driving, I was sitting, literally not moving, so I answered, sue me.


She was calling from Florence, Italy with her brand new and extremely awesome fiancé. Beaming from head to toe, as one does when you are in Italy with your fiancé,  she showed me the beautiful buildings behind her.
In turn, I showed her my view of the ambulance that was blocking my exit just a few feet ahead.

Not knowing the best way to articulate the ridiculousness of this moment, I said the first thing that came to my mind, “God loves me too! God loves me too!”

Yes, my family loves me, but God loves me too. My family loves me and thinks I am awesome. They have huge dreams for my life but a biased perspective and limited control.  God, on the other hand,  knows how awful I am, has complete control and still chooses to love me. Stuck in traffic, stuck in a dead-end job, stuck, stuck, stuck, He still loves me, and that changes everything.  When I remember  His undeserved, unchanging, unyielding love for me, I start to believe I can, with His strength, become exactly who He has created me to be, even if that is to become the first hustling supermodel comedian.

Let not steadfast love and faithfulness forsake you;

    bind them around your neck;

    write them on the tablet of your heart. (Proverbs 3:2)