I didn't fall. I'm so happy. I skiied for two solid days and never fell once. I made my last run down the slopes repeating the mantra, "Don't fall, last run. Don't fall, last run." And as I walked to the parking lot, carrying my skis and poles, "Don't fall now. You made it all day. Don't fall now." And as I changed out of my ski boots into my snow boots, "No falling. No. Falling. No."

And I managed to go three days on snow and ice and didn't trip or fall. I don't usually fall when I ski but this year I felt vulnerable for some reason. I don't like to fall. Well, the falling itself isn't so bad, it's the landing that hurts. And when I get hurt, I always cry. Always. It's embarrassing.

Now here I am, at Patrick and Meghan's, looking around at all their pretty things and thinking, "Don't break anything. Don't knock anything off or swing your arms or miss the countertop when putting your glass down. Don't break anything."

I'm realizing as I'm typing that I've been in self-preservation mode for days now. I don't want to get hurt or be embarrassed or look like a spaz. I want to look good and together, even when I know I don't measure up.

Where has the gospel been today? Hiding under the Pottery Barn sheets, I guess. I am consumed with myself. My righteousness takes a hard hit when faced with my own inadequecies. And my inadequecies pop up at random times.

But I am reminded of what my heart seeks. Affirmation. Approval. To be someone's delight. And I am all those things. The only one who matters in the universe, delights in me. Is that enough? Today, I choose to believe it is even if I don't feel it.