It’s amazing to me how things change and yet in a sense they stay the same. I know that seems like a huge oxymoron but it’s true. The more things change the more they stay the same.

I am a Summer girl. I love almost everything about summer. I love the sheer amount of sunshine I get every day. I want to bask in it. I want to bottle it up and save it for the deary months of winter. I love wearing capris, slip-slops (or flip-flops), and tee-shirts. I don’t currently love wearing my slip-slops as they have rubbed my feet wrong and I have not one, not two, not three but four blisters on my feet.  I love going barefoot. I love not wearing socks. I love pony tails and just piling my hair on top of my head. I love being able to skip applying foundation with my makeup because I’m getting tan enough to go without.

I love having people think I’ve dyed my hair because “it’s SO red!” (For the record, I don’t dye at all. But I have a lot of natural red that really comes out in the summer sun.) I love the routine-less days. I love the lighter load of school. I love ice cold drinks.

I love taking my girls to the pool and sitting there sweltering in the heat. Why do I swelter in the heat when I could jump in with them and cool off? Well, I love being hot, or I like it better than being cold. And I’m cold 9 months of the year. But I hate myself in a swimsuit.

It’s not that I’m saying I’m self-conscious, but I am. I’ve never been overly fond of my body. I’ve always found myself to be “too-something”. Too big. Too loud. Too white. Too ____________ you name it, I’ve felt it.

I’m sure we’ve all felt it, at least all of us females have. It seems we like to heap guilt on our fair sex to make us feel better about our own bodies. If we can point out some else’s “thunder thighs”, “underarm flab”, “muffin top”, we can feel better about our own imperfections. But it doesn’t work.

I think we need to remember that people aren’t all that concerned with us. They’re too busy trying to hide their own imperfections from us to really care what we look like.

The modeling industry has not paid women any favors. We can’t all be air brushed to perfection. The Victoria’s Secret models and Sports Illustrated models don’t look like they appear.

I’d be willing to bet they have their own insecurities when it comes to their bodies. They might be photographed in swimsuits that would fit in a snack size ziploc baggie but are they comfortable?

This summer though, I’ve decided to learn to love and accept my body as it is. My body has gone through a lot in the four and one-half decades of life on planet earth. I’ve given birth to two children, I’ve nursed those children. I’ve fallen on my face. I’ve stubbed my toes. I’ve gotten scarred.

No, my body isn’t perfect but it is the body God gave me. It is the temple of the Most Holy God. It’s time I lived like it. I’m done thinking I have to be 40 pounds lighter.  I’m over thinking I need  my butt lifted, a face lift, nose job and what are we going to do about those varicose veins?   I’m done thinking cellulose is the enemy of enjoying life. I’m done judging someone else’s clothed body by my naked one.

This summer I’m all about basking in the sun on my shoulders, wiggling my toes in the sand. I’m going to run wild and free. I’m going to bask in God’s presence in my life. I’m going to focus on Him, on pleasing Him and ask Him to teach me to love the me He created.

I’m going to live fully in the moment because each moment is fleeting and too soon gone. I’m going to live with all 5 of my senses.

I’m going to start it all right now.