Monday, February 11, 2013

Humiliating Weakness

I don't know how many of you actually read this blog. I suppose you know who you are if you are in fact reading this now. Well, I am going to acknowledge you for once. I thank you for taking the time to read this page. I also want to apologize to you for my absence. I have allowed my own personal sin of selfishness to keep me from blogging. So, finally, I am going to ask for your prayers. The following post will help to explain...

God, I don't like this. My heart hurts. My heart aches. I feel myself being torn apart. My freedom is gone. I've pulled into myself for protection.
Whose fault is it God? It is easy for me to blame my best friend. So easy. But what about person B, person C, person D, person E?....How about just me? My fault. My fault for not being able to handle life.
I can't handle people. I can't handle my homework. I'm back to not wanting to get up in the morning. I want to hide in bed.
Where does person F fit into this? Or person G?
Oh God--the truth is that all of these people (except for perhaps person C) love me and care for me. Who am I to blame them?
What is wrong, God? Why am I reverting to slavery again?
I feel like all of my speaking has been hypocritical. I am reverting to perfectionism, focusing on my body, isolating from people.
My heart hurts, God! Why does my heart hurt?
Is it my best friend? I can't blame him. It's my own mess--he just brings it out. There is still more infection in me. God, I'm still intoxicated! Help! Please show me where to go next. I don't want this inner battle. It's wearing me out and tearing me apart. I'm TERRIFIED to give you the reigns. But I'm not doing well driving myself.

As a woman I am supposed to be able to create a home within--to be able to nurture, nourish, brood over, and impart life.
But I am completely failing at this. I am unable to do this with my best friend. With everyone really. The war is so strong--there is so much junk in me--that I've sealed myself off from people. And whenever someone tries to open the top, I push them away IN ANGER.

This is what I have become. God, I need you more than anything else.

Romans 8:15 "For you have not received a spirit of slavery leading to fear again, but you have received a spirit of adoption as sons by which we cry out, 'Abba! Father!'"

ABBA! FATHER! I need you!! I am weak! Weaker than ever!

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