.nail biter.

My name is Zara and I am a nail biter. I’ve been a nail biter for as long as I can remember. For years my Nanna has tried to help me refrain from biting my nails. Various tips and tricks. Sitting on my hands. Wearing Gloves. Chewing on Gum. Knitting. Anything to keep my hands away from the giant abyss that is my mouth.

One of the more effective tricks was ‘stop and grow’. Nail polish, which also doubles as a ‘biting deterrent’ - the polish is flavoured. To sum up the taste, it has a wretched bitter tang. The combination of a cheap and nasty coffee, sour milk, olives, lemons, vinegar and an old shoe chucked in for good measure. For about month in grade 9 I used ‘stop and grow’ to assist in combating my serial nail biting. That was until my friend stole the bottle and applied it to the end of the pens of all the ‘pen biters’ in our grade. I stopped bringing my ‘stop and grow’ to school after that incident to avoid looks of scorn in the playground. And thus, the non-nail biting came crashing down to my feet.

I remember once being told that underneath your fingernails reside more germs than in a toilet bowl. I lasted for about a week not biting my nails after hearing that fact, but couldn’t resist the germy goodness and went back to munching on my digits.

In the last six months I have been so busy I’ve stopped biting my nails. Consequently I’ve got these beautiful nails. I can now relate to the phrase ‘Oh No! I broke a nail’ and have actually used it seriously in conversation without a hint of sarcasm or mockery.

Today my nails taught me a lesson. I woke up and somehow, one of my nails had a crack and was on its way to breaking. And, much to my embarrassment, I prayed that my nail would not break. This seemingly insignificant and innocuous few words have completely rocked my world. A prayer for a fingernail, A FINGERNAIL!

If my biggest worry is praying for a slither of keratin, then I seriously need to get my priorities straight. My prayer life should revolve around Jesus, how he wants to transform me and use me so others can know of his love. My prayer life should not be focused on my fingernail, but the nails that were driven into his hands so I can be cleansed, purified, loved and have eternal life.

But he was pierced for our transgressions,
he was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was upon him,
and by his wounds we are healed.

Isaiah 53:5

.my ideal life.

Imagine your ideal life, the perfect circumstances, the ultimate scenario. If I could create my ideal life, I imagine the typical day would flow a little like this….

I’d wake up next to my husband, who resembled a movie star, a Rock Hudson, Cary Grant type. He’d be the owner/operator of an architectural company and we’d be residing in our dream home, built on the Amalfi Coast. He’d worship the ground I walk on, throwing rose petals at my feet as I walked into the kitchen for breakfast.

Our maid, Alice (who’s dating the butcher) would have made me my favourite breakfast – bacon, bacon, bacon. Our 2.3 children would be sitting at the table reading Hemingway and Dickens and breakfast conversation would be carried out in French, as we’d all be well versed in several languages. The children would scamper off to school in their gold-trimmed uniforms, hand-in-hand singing sweetly…they never fight you see, not one harsh word has ever passed between them.

I would get ready to go to work, slip into my favourite Chanel suit, not worrying about the 3 kilograms of bacon I consumed earlier, because no matter what I eat, my waistline remains a petite size 10. Work would only be a short stroll away, as all I’d be doing is taking my laptop to the local café to write, write, write. I’d be working on my newest novel “Contentment – how to have it ALL and more”. All day long I’d sip on lattes and eat pastries, once again unconcerned about my waist due to my super human metabolism.

At lunch my nearest and dearest friends would pop into the café and we’d sit and laugh and converse about our ridiculously good looking husbands who we never argue with, our delightful, impeccably behaved children and how we wouldn’t change anything about the way we look, because we are 100% happy with our appearance. I’d arrive home and cook my family dinner, made from organic whole foods, we never get sick, ever, but my family only has the best.

We’d dine together, relishing in each others company, recounting entertaining stories from our day. The dishes would be magically whisked away and we’d retire to the lounge to view the latest episode of our favourite family sitcom. After such a tiresome day, I’d kiss my dashing husband good night, he’d tell me how much he loves and adores me, I’d lay my head on the pillow and…..

still feel discontent.

I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything through him who gives me strength.

Philippians 4:12-13

And now I have it all—and keep getting more! The gifts you sent with Epaphroditus were more than enough, like a sweet-smelling sacrifice roasting on the altar, filling the air with fragrance, pleasing God no end. You can be sure that God will take care of everything you need, his generosity exceeding even yours in the glory that pours from Jesus. Our God and Father abounds in glory that just pours out into eternity.

Philippians 4:18-19