Every day in my special day kindergarten class is always an adventure. Fortunately, I enjoy an adventure. Lesson plans are typically thrown out the window, while new ones write themselves.
Today, my favorite student (who has autism) in that class put in his hand on my shoulder while I sat next to him. If I moved to assist another student, he followed me. That is not typical behavior for students with autism. During one of his groups, I told him to complete his work. He put his hand over my mouth and told me to be quiet. I wanted to howl with laughter. How can I punish a student with autism for being interactive and communicating clearly? He eventually did his work; I didn't stay quiet for long, if at all.
Another boy, who also has autism, had some difficult moments today. He screamed and cried for a snack, even though he had already eaten. I sat with him and repeated that he needed to sit first, and then he'd get his juice. Finally, I walked to where he needed to be with the juice box. He followed. He completed his work with the lunchbox in his hand. At least he did his work. I was not going to fight that battle. As the class walked to the bus, he waved good-bye to me as I walked to my classroom. He was the first student to say good-bye. I wanted to kick my feet up and do a jig, because he initiated interaction for something beyond his basic wants or needs.
Despite spending most of my day walking around feeling incompetent, God sees me. He reminds me that He's involved in the lives of my students. I often stop and remind myself that all of the students in that classroom bear God's image. God likes to get crazy, sometimes...
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Limitless
For the second time in six months, the pastor at my church (Harbor Mid-City) preached on the parable of the good Samaritan (Luke 10: 25-37). Both times, he quoted Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Dr. King had visited the Jericho road referred to in the parable. My pastor summarized two of Dr. King's comments regarding the Jericho road. First, instead of asking, "What will happen to me if I stop and help someone," it is critical to ask, "What will happen to the person in need of help if I do not stop to help?" Secondly, Dr. King advocated transforming the Jericho road.
My heart soars thinking about transforming the Jericho road. That's what I want to do. I want to transform the Jericho road. I want to help soothe the pain of others and ease the suffering of others.
It used to break my heart to realize I cannot transform the Jericho road alone. Even with a small army, I will likely not be able to transform the Jericho road. I used to feel so hopeless and paralyzed.
But with Jesus, we can transform the Jericho road. It's already part of God's plan, for "He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away" (Revelation 21: 4). The burden of transforming the Jericho road is not on my shoulders. Jesus has already carried this burden to the cross. I can pray for the transformation of the Jericho road. I can pray for God to work through me and other people to inch by inch transform the road. I can pray to God to show me how I can take small steps toward transforming the Jericho road.
I still don't fully know what to do, but I know the Jericho road will one day be transformed into a peaceful, safe place.
My heart soars thinking about transforming the Jericho road. That's what I want to do. I want to transform the Jericho road. I want to help soothe the pain of others and ease the suffering of others.
It used to break my heart to realize I cannot transform the Jericho road alone. Even with a small army, I will likely not be able to transform the Jericho road. I used to feel so hopeless and paralyzed.
But with Jesus, we can transform the Jericho road. It's already part of God's plan, for "He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away" (Revelation 21: 4). The burden of transforming the Jericho road is not on my shoulders. Jesus has already carried this burden to the cross. I can pray for the transformation of the Jericho road. I can pray for God to work through me and other people to inch by inch transform the road. I can pray to God to show me how I can take small steps toward transforming the Jericho road.
I still don't fully know what to do, but I know the Jericho road will one day be transformed into a peaceful, safe place.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Evidence Based Practice AND Prayer
So, my fellow speech language pathologists will definitely know the phrase "evidence based practice." I'm sure, however, that it's no surprise for the rest of you to use research or some other factual based information to make a decision or implement a therapy technique, learning model, or which car to buy.
I am so giddy and excited about my day that I wanted to jump up and down while I walked through the hallways at work today. I, apparently, need to make up a happy dance that is work appropriate.
Once or twice a week, I go to an elementary school and provide speech and language services to 12 kindergarten students in a special education classroom, called a special day class (SDC). Some of the students are identified as speech and language impaired, others have autism plus two other labels.
I adore my students. They are challenging and fun all at the same time.
Today one of the students was acting out for attention. The teacher had one of the two aides take him outside of the classroom. The aide needed to run her group so she tagged me in to watch the student. She warned me that he had been throwing sand. Within minutes, he threw sand at me. I decided to implement a trick from my valued friend and colleague. I enthusiastically said, "Thank you! Thank you so much! I love how the sand feels on my arms." He threw sand once again, and I thanked him once again. After that, he either placed the sand in my hand, which I gently placed back on the ground, or he drizzled sand on my leg or my shoe. Then I just ignored him, and he typically wiped it off wherever he had placed it.
But that's not why I'm excited. At one point, he decided he was going to leave the playground area. I did not want to chase him, and I knew if I walked toward him, he'd think it was a game. I told him that it's not safe to leave and the rule is staying on the playground. I did not look at him. Occasionally, I'd say something about staying within the playground. What worked, however, is my prayer. I asked Jesus to keep him in the playground, or at least guide me if I had to follow him. Sure enough, the student returned to the playground and close the gate behind him. I made sure to talk to him and to praise him for making a good choice. Praise God!!!
As exciting as that was, I had a highly fulfilling therapy moment. One of the boys with autism in the class is secretly my favorite. He'll usually comply and even hold your hand if he sees your hand extended. It's very sweet to have a little boy with autism hold your hand willingly. He's not the only one in the class like that, but he's the one I met first. Anyway, this student often repeats rote phrases that are not related to the topic. I believe he is using them to communicate, but I haven't quite figured out what. I'm always happy if he asks me to tie his shoes or repeats something I say. Today, he was playing with play-doh. After he made a ball out of it, he began rolling it back and forth between his hands. So, I asked him to roll the ball to me. With a few prompts, he did. I rolled it back. I told him to roll the ball to me, and he did. I had another student join us, so they rolled the ball to each other. I'm still prompting the student with autism to roll the ball. After that, he boy with autism started playing with a toy car. So, again, I asked him to roll the car to me. He did. By the time we stopped, the student would roll the car to me after I said, "my turn." So there you have it, developing turn-taking skills, which we will use as the foundation for conversation.
AND it gets even better. The second student that I brought in to play with us gave me a hug after we were done. So the student with autism gave me a hug! Best day ever.
I couldn't be more proud of my student or more thankful to God for guiding me. Such a sweet and loving God, who will provide for my students despite my areas of weakness.
Yet another reason why I love my job!
I am so giddy and excited about my day that I wanted to jump up and down while I walked through the hallways at work today. I, apparently, need to make up a happy dance that is work appropriate.
Once or twice a week, I go to an elementary school and provide speech and language services to 12 kindergarten students in a special education classroom, called a special day class (SDC). Some of the students are identified as speech and language impaired, others have autism plus two other labels.
I adore my students. They are challenging and fun all at the same time.
Today one of the students was acting out for attention. The teacher had one of the two aides take him outside of the classroom. The aide needed to run her group so she tagged me in to watch the student. She warned me that he had been throwing sand. Within minutes, he threw sand at me. I decided to implement a trick from my valued friend and colleague. I enthusiastically said, "Thank you! Thank you so much! I love how the sand feels on my arms." He threw sand once again, and I thanked him once again. After that, he either placed the sand in my hand, which I gently placed back on the ground, or he drizzled sand on my leg or my shoe. Then I just ignored him, and he typically wiped it off wherever he had placed it.
But that's not why I'm excited. At one point, he decided he was going to leave the playground area. I did not want to chase him, and I knew if I walked toward him, he'd think it was a game. I told him that it's not safe to leave and the rule is staying on the playground. I did not look at him. Occasionally, I'd say something about staying within the playground. What worked, however, is my prayer. I asked Jesus to keep him in the playground, or at least guide me if I had to follow him. Sure enough, the student returned to the playground and close the gate behind him. I made sure to talk to him and to praise him for making a good choice. Praise God!!!
As exciting as that was, I had a highly fulfilling therapy moment. One of the boys with autism in the class is secretly my favorite. He'll usually comply and even hold your hand if he sees your hand extended. It's very sweet to have a little boy with autism hold your hand willingly. He's not the only one in the class like that, but he's the one I met first. Anyway, this student often repeats rote phrases that are not related to the topic. I believe he is using them to communicate, but I haven't quite figured out what. I'm always happy if he asks me to tie his shoes or repeats something I say. Today, he was playing with play-doh. After he made a ball out of it, he began rolling it back and forth between his hands. So, I asked him to roll the ball to me. With a few prompts, he did. I rolled it back. I told him to roll the ball to me, and he did. I had another student join us, so they rolled the ball to each other. I'm still prompting the student with autism to roll the ball. After that, he boy with autism started playing with a toy car. So, again, I asked him to roll the car to me. He did. By the time we stopped, the student would roll the car to me after I said, "my turn." So there you have it, developing turn-taking skills, which we will use as the foundation for conversation.
AND it gets even better. The second student that I brought in to play with us gave me a hug after we were done. So the student with autism gave me a hug! Best day ever.
I couldn't be more proud of my student or more thankful to God for guiding me. Such a sweet and loving God, who will provide for my students despite my areas of weakness.
Yet another reason why I love my job!
Saturday, September 10, 2011
A lionhearted herd animal
I recently posted this quote on Facebook: "Fainthearted animals move about in herds. The lion walks alone in the desert. Let the poet always walk thus." - Alfred Victor Vigny, 1797 - 1863
I struggle with feeling lonely and misunderstood. When I read the quote above, I immediately perked up. I also fancy myself a poet, and I just know that there's some body of work within me that I am meant to write. I've believed that for a long time. Before I believed in Jesus, I was too afraid to venture into my raw identity. What would I find? Since starting counseling through my church, I am walking with God straight into the depths of my being.
All that background to simply state that I identified with this quote, because I felt validated for feeling alone. I am a writer, then of course I am alone in the desert.
Later, I was writing in my journal. I remembered the quote, and then realized how it's actually contrary to my beliefs as a Christian.
I am NOT alone. No matter how many times I feel lonely, I am NOT alone. Not only does God dwell within me: John 16: 32 "Yet I am not alone, for the Father is with me," but I am also a member of the body of Christ (Romans 12: 4-6, 1 Corinthians 12: 26-28).
An animal that lives in a herd does not mean it is weak or fainthearted. In fact, it demonstrates a great deal of strength. Living with others is much more difficult than living alone.
I think there's a temptation to feel like we should be an independent lion strutting through the desert, but in reality, we all want a friend with whom to walk.
Lion or not, you're not alone.
I struggle with feeling lonely and misunderstood. When I read the quote above, I immediately perked up. I also fancy myself a poet, and I just know that there's some body of work within me that I am meant to write. I've believed that for a long time. Before I believed in Jesus, I was too afraid to venture into my raw identity. What would I find? Since starting counseling through my church, I am walking with God straight into the depths of my being.
All that background to simply state that I identified with this quote, because I felt validated for feeling alone. I am a writer, then of course I am alone in the desert.
Later, I was writing in my journal. I remembered the quote, and then realized how it's actually contrary to my beliefs as a Christian.
I am NOT alone. No matter how many times I feel lonely, I am NOT alone. Not only does God dwell within me: John 16: 32 "Yet I am not alone, for the Father is with me," but I am also a member of the body of Christ (Romans 12: 4-6, 1 Corinthians 12: 26-28).
An animal that lives in a herd does not mean it is weak or fainthearted. In fact, it demonstrates a great deal of strength. Living with others is much more difficult than living alone.
I think there's a temptation to feel like we should be an independent lion strutting through the desert, but in reality, we all want a friend with whom to walk.
Lion or not, you're not alone.
Monday, September 5, 2011
Labor Day
"Without work all life goes rotten."
- Albert Camus, 1913 - 1960
Yes, all work and no play makes anyone dull; however, there is value and satisfaction in working. Sure, there's your job, but I'm talking about the little chores of life that no one wants to do, but there's always an undeniable feeling of satisfied accomplishment after.
Let me explain how this quote by Albert Camus played out in my life.
On Saturday, I was tired and feeling sad. I went to the gym in the morning and finished a book I had started on Friday. After that, however, I pretty much wasted my day watching television shows on hulu.com. This did not help my melancholic feelings. I felt rotten. I dwelled in my sorrow instead of fighting my way out of it. I had a to-do list of chores I wanted to accomplish, but I was too tired and felt too overwhelmed by the list. So, I lament Saturday as a waste. I ended the day by writing in my journal and posting it on this blog. A total loss? No, but it also wasn't the day I had intended.
Sunday, however, was much better. I went to church and appreciated how God communicated with me during the service. Since I had watched everything on hulu the day before, I had free time to actually whittle away at my to-do list. I cleaned and organized and tended to my garden. I went to a coffee shop to journal and met a friend to walk. I couldn't believe how quickly my afternoon disappeared.
I felt happier and satisfied after finishing some of my chores. But there are times when I am just too tired to tackle my to-do list. Watching hulu, however, is not the best solution. I'll be working (ha, working) on finding a more restful activity.
Today, I have a few things left on my to-do list, including washing my car. I really don't want to do it, especially because it makes me sad to think that my car-washing friend moved in June. We'll see how today goes, though. A delicate balance of work and play and rest.
- Albert Camus, 1913 - 1960
Yes, all work and no play makes anyone dull; however, there is value and satisfaction in working. Sure, there's your job, but I'm talking about the little chores of life that no one wants to do, but there's always an undeniable feeling of satisfied accomplishment after.
Let me explain how this quote by Albert Camus played out in my life.
On Saturday, I was tired and feeling sad. I went to the gym in the morning and finished a book I had started on Friday. After that, however, I pretty much wasted my day watching television shows on hulu.com. This did not help my melancholic feelings. I felt rotten. I dwelled in my sorrow instead of fighting my way out of it. I had a to-do list of chores I wanted to accomplish, but I was too tired and felt too overwhelmed by the list. So, I lament Saturday as a waste. I ended the day by writing in my journal and posting it on this blog. A total loss? No, but it also wasn't the day I had intended.
Sunday, however, was much better. I went to church and appreciated how God communicated with me during the service. Since I had watched everything on hulu the day before, I had free time to actually whittle away at my to-do list. I cleaned and organized and tended to my garden. I went to a coffee shop to journal and met a friend to walk. I couldn't believe how quickly my afternoon disappeared.
I felt happier and satisfied after finishing some of my chores. But there are times when I am just too tired to tackle my to-do list. Watching hulu, however, is not the best solution. I'll be working (ha, working) on finding a more restful activity.
Today, I have a few things left on my to-do list, including washing my car. I really don't want to do it, especially because it makes me sad to think that my car-washing friend moved in June. We'll see how today goes, though. A delicate balance of work and play and rest.
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Identity in crisis: the cost of following Jesus
I have spent my entire life wishing I were different. Individualism in a society that really wants everyone to fall in line. Specific traits are valued; some of which I have to work at to exhibit.
I think through writing instead of talking aloud. I am not walled in by facts, but I admit I probably depend too much on my intuition. I care how my decisions will affect others. I want everyone to be happy. I'm idealistic. I'm frequently late, because I misjudge how much time it will take. Plus, I want to be exactly on time, so I won't leave if I'll be too early. I thrive on adapting to changes in a plan. I like having a variety of options. Sometimes I get sucked into making the "right" choice (idealistic, remember?) that the options weigh me down, paralyzing me into doing nothing but wasting the day.
I'm painfully shy and reserved; I think I am consequently viewed as being rude and unapproachable.
I've worked twice as hard to prove I am smart, because my brain isn't good at holding facts, unless they're ones I use regularly.
I always felt I needed to be more outgoing and more objective.
My counselor tells me I'm the color in a black and white world. It's like she knows the journey I'm on while I feel completely clueless and helpless.
So, how did I get here: sitting on my couch, a puddle of emotions and confusion? Finally, I am admitting to myself and to my God that I do not like who I am. If only I valued facts more, because then I'd know I am wonderfully and fearfully made (Psalm 139). Instead, I feel sad, lonely, and poorly made. Damaged. Chipped chinaware. Dulled silverware. Yet, I know I'm anything but dull.
Welcome to my mind. It's full of traps like minesweeper. I was never good at playing that game.
Five years ago, I moved to San Diego under the guise of graduate school. The real reason? God was (and still is) pursuing me. He led me into the desert (Hosea 2: 14). After three years, I accepted Jesus as my Savior. I used to think my story was why I decided to accept Jesus into my life. Tonight, I realize my story is what Jesus has been doing since then.
Before Jesus, I was dating a young man. Neither of us believed in God. While we were dating, I accepted Christ. It ultimately divided us. We lived two separate lives with little overlap. Two Corinthians 6: 14 changed my life. My boyfriend was not pursuing me. His heart had already moved on. I want to be pursued.
Being single (it's going on 19 months) has exposed my wound of loneliness. You wouldn't believe how I try to cover it up.
After breaking up with the previously mentioned boyfriend, I thought God would reward my obedience with a handsome, Christian man. One day. Currently, God is pursuing me. He is jealous for me. I have so many idols I turn to before God.
After five months of being single, I considered counseling. In November 2010, after nearly seven months of being single, I had my first counseling session: pastoral counseling, which is led by the Holy Spirit. As an intuitive person, I am sensitive to the Holy Spirit, and I absolutely adore it. Yet, even I was skeptical. It didn't take long for me to realize that not only was it legitimate but that God is with us during every session.
Currently, I feel like I need Jesus and another person to mediate God's presence in my life. I don't know how to go to Him. I still don't fully believe He'll be there. I'm terrified that I really am as alone as I feel. If I don't go to God, then I won't be disappointed if He doesn't show up. I'm still full of pain, but I can avoid facing my deepest fear. Yet, I'm still lonely.
Through counseling, God has shown me that He intentionally created me. I am no accident. My parents, experiences, ethnicity, body type, and personality are all on purpose. I do not know why. As much as I want to like myself, I don't. I think I'm crazy. I'm whimsical and melancholic. I appear flaky; I often feel like the absent-minded professor. The problem is, I have so many ideas about how to organize my materials at work that I become paralyzed. (Let me note that there are aspects I do like about myself at times. In general, I'm rather displeased.)
I don't need a plan. I don't worry about details. I see the big picture, and I hate wearing watches.
Before I believed in Jesus, I was a garden with a lot of weeds. Think of an abandoned, overgrown lot. Thick vines, tall grass: that was me.
God has been pruning and burning the weeds. My loneliness feels like a charred forest. God wants me to take His hand. Some days, I do; I see buds sprouting. Other days, I'm weeping in the ashes--grieving whom I am or whom I was.
God is cultivating my sense of being. The seeds are still in the ground. I feel barren.
The apostle Paul talked about how our old self dies (Romans 6: 6 and Ephesians 4: 22). I didn't realize it would be sad. I also didn't realize that there are parts of my self that are permanent.
God created me to do specific things (Ephesians 2: 10). It would be easier to know what those deeds were, so I'd have purpose. Maybe I'd understand why I'm so different. God, however, wants me to trust Him, because He is good.
I feel like no one understands me. I don't know why I think people should. Maybe I bear the image of God's mystery (wishful thinking, I know). God knows me perfectly (Psalm 139); no one else will ever come close to knowing me so well. I still don't know myself. Shouldn't I have gone through this as a teenager? I don't do anything as I should, and I am always late.
Even though this process is so difficult and so painful, I know it's the only way to draw closer to God. It's the only way to break the chains of seeking empty idols. So many times I seek the short-term fulfillment of idols. So often I ask God, "why me?" I wish I could walk away, back to my old self, but my old self was in worse shape then I am now. I wish I could blend in or be invisible, as I used to be.
I have a desire to be known and a desire to be a writer. I can only hide for so long before my feelings build in intensity, spilling over and crumbling the dam I built to hold it all together.
Inevitably, I will have a deer in headlights moment--why did I post this? Why will I? Why share this with strangers? Do I really need to add more snide remarks? Aren't mine enough? Yet, I don't care, because I want to get this out. Do I feel better? No, not really. Slightly peaceful. Repentance is confession and then trusting Jesus to pull the weeds and water the seeds of truth.
Jesus, forgive me for I have sinned. I go to you as my last resort. I long to seek you first, but I need your help. I surrender to you. Heal me. Restore me. Sculpt me into a person who follows you.
I think through writing instead of talking aloud. I am not walled in by facts, but I admit I probably depend too much on my intuition. I care how my decisions will affect others. I want everyone to be happy. I'm idealistic. I'm frequently late, because I misjudge how much time it will take. Plus, I want to be exactly on time, so I won't leave if I'll be too early. I thrive on adapting to changes in a plan. I like having a variety of options. Sometimes I get sucked into making the "right" choice (idealistic, remember?) that the options weigh me down, paralyzing me into doing nothing but wasting the day.
I'm painfully shy and reserved; I think I am consequently viewed as being rude and unapproachable.
I've worked twice as hard to prove I am smart, because my brain isn't good at holding facts, unless they're ones I use regularly.
I always felt I needed to be more outgoing and more objective.
My counselor tells me I'm the color in a black and white world. It's like she knows the journey I'm on while I feel completely clueless and helpless.
So, how did I get here: sitting on my couch, a puddle of emotions and confusion? Finally, I am admitting to myself and to my God that I do not like who I am. If only I valued facts more, because then I'd know I am wonderfully and fearfully made (Psalm 139). Instead, I feel sad, lonely, and poorly made. Damaged. Chipped chinaware. Dulled silverware. Yet, I know I'm anything but dull.
Welcome to my mind. It's full of traps like minesweeper. I was never good at playing that game.
Five years ago, I moved to San Diego under the guise of graduate school. The real reason? God was (and still is) pursuing me. He led me into the desert (Hosea 2: 14). After three years, I accepted Jesus as my Savior. I used to think my story was why I decided to accept Jesus into my life. Tonight, I realize my story is what Jesus has been doing since then.
Before Jesus, I was dating a young man. Neither of us believed in God. While we were dating, I accepted Christ. It ultimately divided us. We lived two separate lives with little overlap. Two Corinthians 6: 14 changed my life. My boyfriend was not pursuing me. His heart had already moved on. I want to be pursued.
Being single (it's going on 19 months) has exposed my wound of loneliness. You wouldn't believe how I try to cover it up.
After breaking up with the previously mentioned boyfriend, I thought God would reward my obedience with a handsome, Christian man. One day. Currently, God is pursuing me. He is jealous for me. I have so many idols I turn to before God.
After five months of being single, I considered counseling. In November 2010, after nearly seven months of being single, I had my first counseling session: pastoral counseling, which is led by the Holy Spirit. As an intuitive person, I am sensitive to the Holy Spirit, and I absolutely adore it. Yet, even I was skeptical. It didn't take long for me to realize that not only was it legitimate but that God is with us during every session.
Currently, I feel like I need Jesus and another person to mediate God's presence in my life. I don't know how to go to Him. I still don't fully believe He'll be there. I'm terrified that I really am as alone as I feel. If I don't go to God, then I won't be disappointed if He doesn't show up. I'm still full of pain, but I can avoid facing my deepest fear. Yet, I'm still lonely.
Through counseling, God has shown me that He intentionally created me. I am no accident. My parents, experiences, ethnicity, body type, and personality are all on purpose. I do not know why. As much as I want to like myself, I don't. I think I'm crazy. I'm whimsical and melancholic. I appear flaky; I often feel like the absent-minded professor. The problem is, I have so many ideas about how to organize my materials at work that I become paralyzed. (Let me note that there are aspects I do like about myself at times. In general, I'm rather displeased.)
I don't need a plan. I don't worry about details. I see the big picture, and I hate wearing watches.
Before I believed in Jesus, I was a garden with a lot of weeds. Think of an abandoned, overgrown lot. Thick vines, tall grass: that was me.
God has been pruning and burning the weeds. My loneliness feels like a charred forest. God wants me to take His hand. Some days, I do; I see buds sprouting. Other days, I'm weeping in the ashes--grieving whom I am or whom I was.
God is cultivating my sense of being. The seeds are still in the ground. I feel barren.
The apostle Paul talked about how our old self dies (Romans 6: 6 and Ephesians 4: 22). I didn't realize it would be sad. I also didn't realize that there are parts of my self that are permanent.
God created me to do specific things (Ephesians 2: 10). It would be easier to know what those deeds were, so I'd have purpose. Maybe I'd understand why I'm so different. God, however, wants me to trust Him, because He is good.
I feel like no one understands me. I don't know why I think people should. Maybe I bear the image of God's mystery (wishful thinking, I know). God knows me perfectly (Psalm 139); no one else will ever come close to knowing me so well. I still don't know myself. Shouldn't I have gone through this as a teenager? I don't do anything as I should, and I am always late.
Even though this process is so difficult and so painful, I know it's the only way to draw closer to God. It's the only way to break the chains of seeking empty idols. So many times I seek the short-term fulfillment of idols. So often I ask God, "why me?" I wish I could walk away, back to my old self, but my old self was in worse shape then I am now. I wish I could blend in or be invisible, as I used to be.
I have a desire to be known and a desire to be a writer. I can only hide for so long before my feelings build in intensity, spilling over and crumbling the dam I built to hold it all together.
Inevitably, I will have a deer in headlights moment--why did I post this? Why will I? Why share this with strangers? Do I really need to add more snide remarks? Aren't mine enough? Yet, I don't care, because I want to get this out. Do I feel better? No, not really. Slightly peaceful. Repentance is confession and then trusting Jesus to pull the weeds and water the seeds of truth.
Jesus, forgive me for I have sinned. I go to you as my last resort. I long to seek you first, but I need your help. I surrender to you. Heal me. Restore me. Sculpt me into a person who follows you.
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