Sunday at church, Kelly told me how much she enjoyed our chat at a baby shower we'd both attended Friday. She said something along the lines of: It was great to talk to you Friday. I just love spending time with you, everybody does. My response, which popped out a little too quickly with too little thought and probably too much truth: I'm not as nice as people think I am. Where did that come from? And did I really just say that out loud in the check-in line at church? Luckily, Kelly is full of grace, she laughed a little and said I'm just honest and real. The real me? Hmmmm.

I have a temper, a bad one. I'm like a dormant volcano, warm and bubbly most of the time but when all conditions are right (or should I say wrong) I can blow my top. You'll probably never see this side of me. I'm quite skilled at "depravity management" as John Ortberg calls it. The people I love the most, David and the kids, are the only one I usually burn with my hot lava temper tantrums.

I wait to clean the house until someone is coming over or we can no longer find the children. I rarely clean for cleaning's sake. My small group has starting meeting here once a week so I at least rearrange the mess that often. I do a toy round up nightly, even if it's just to the stairs and almost always go to bed with a clean sink (I can't stand dirty dishes) but mopping, dusting and vacuuming the stairs are guest-only chores. (And FYI small-groupers are not considered guests!)

If you're sick or going through a tough time, I will think of calling, sending a note of encouragement and/or cooking a meal. I'll really want to and have the best intentions but chances are I won't do any of the above. No good excuse, I tell myself if I call the phone will wake you from the best nap you've ever had or if I cook it won't taste good...I usually do write a note, but don't have stamps to mail it. I just stink at this stuff.

I can be very moody. I pick fights with David, fuss at the kids too much for no good reason. This is different than my temper. Moody is chronic, as in long-lasting, temper is acute, strong but short lived.

I can manipulate almost any situation to make me the victim.

I have to be right.

Is this too much honesty? This may be too much. It's late and I'm a still a little sick. I'll post it with the disclaimer that I may be under the influence of cold medicine. I just felt the need to be transparent.

Here's what you need to know: If I do control my temper, if I do say the right thing at the right time, if I do come through with tangible or emotional support when you need it, and if I ever relinquish my right to be right in the name of love or forgiveness, you are seeing Jesus in me because those things are not natural to me. For me to get it right means I have died to self, at least in that moment. My goal is to connect more and more of those moments.

And if my floor is mopped, you're either a guest, or you've just spilled something.