I am taken advantage of often and most times, I don’t see it coming.
I’m not gullible, quite the opposite actually. I’m pretty keen to behavioral problems and patterns–correction–certain problems and patterns. There are some that slide right by me. Probably because the neuro-pathways in my brain have been trampled down with these particular issues, so much so that they’re “normal” to me.
That makes me judgmental.
I fully admit it.
I feel the overwhelming need to protect my family and myself from certain types of people.
But I fail.
I fail and I let these people in and I think I let them in because my brain craves challenge and figuring out their motives (I think) is why I dismiss or ignore or don’t recognize their harmful, toxic patterns. I think sometimes my brain often fails to alert me to certain things so that it gets to figure out the puzzle.
Yes. I do talk as if my brain and I are two autonomous beings. And this is where I totally understand the apostle Paul says
Although I want to do good, evil is right there with me. For in my inner being I delight in God’s law; but I see another law at work in me, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within me. What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death?
See. Paul gets it.
So while I know and I mean I KNOW that certain types of people are toxic, sometimes, I miss the signs.
And *most* of the time I blame it on this idea that if I’m Christian I must accept any and all people into my life lovingly and willingly. And truly, that’s just bullshit of the highest order.
I have to convince myself (like now) that it is OK to keep unsafe, emotionally unhealthy people out of my life. It is acceptable.
(and then I feel guilty because how many times do you forgive your brother. 70 times 70 and all the other rhetoric dished to me like manna, like it would sustain me when it really just destroys me emotionally and takes me away from my family and distracts me from God)
It is like Jesus in the desert being tempted by Satan with Scripture.
There are people in this world that ONLY Jesus can deal with and I’m not called to fix them or figure them out or allow them to trample over my precious time.
So why do I keep allowing it?
I have no freaking clue.
But it’s a pattern in my life. Some emotionally needy or spiritually needy or physically needy person enters my life, I feel empathy and sympathy for them, they weasel their way into my inner circle, and then (like leaven, yeast) they expand and blow up and how do you take yeast out of already risen bread?
You don’t let it in (in the first place) You keep it out.
I have no freaking clue. But I’m working on it. But I’m buying a book called “The Sociopath Next Door.” Because I think I’ve had a few in my life and truly, I want them out (and they are out, but only after exhausting, time-consuming drama) so I’d like to not let them in…
walk with Him
Tired. Pooped. Out of gas. Running on fumes. The big “E” is flashing and I’m thinking I have to pull over on the shoulder, but there’s no shoulder. No exit. Nada. Zippo. Ziltch.
Part of it is out of my control. Part of it was caused by a decision I made last night to take a break and go have some fun.
I should’ve just stayed home.
But I didn’t.
I wanted to say home, but I wanted to go. I went because I thought I needed a pick-me-up. Turns out I did indeed have fun. A LOT of fun. But because of an out of my control factor, I only got 3 hours sleep and today was already slated to be stressful. Add to that no sleep and honest to God, I’m an emotional basket case.
I’ve asked God for forgiveness. I’ve asked him for help. Strength. Energy. I’m kinda at wit’s end. I have too many responsibilities today and I know I can’t fulfill them. There are important deadlines and things I cannot ignore, yet, I have nothing to offer anyone or anything.
I’m on E.
And I don’t think I’ve ever been here before.
There’s a girlfriend I have, she has this motto: If you’ve come to see my house, make an appointment. If you’ve come to see me, come in! I love her for that. (*waving at JEJ!*)
She’s the most laid back woman I know. Always praising the Creator. Always happy. Always laughing. And she gives the most tremendous hugs. I love her for that, too.
I want to be like her.
Then there’s me. Stressing because someone thinks I shouldn’t have my overwhelmingly weedy garden, I shouldn’t put-up my own veggies, maybe not bake my own biscuits or make my scrumptious apple butter. I shouldn’t homeschool. I shouldn’t write or be an editor. I’m delusional, y’know, trying to do all that stuff.
I do what I love and if it makes someone else uncomfortable, how is that my problem? I’m not breaking the law. I’m not hurting anyone. I mean, really, does a vegetable garden count for making a sister stumble?
I can’t be like you and I don’t expect you to be like me. Let’s embrace those differences. Okay?
Why is it that when I hear sermons about The Fall, when I read about The Fall, and when I’ve done Bible studies that include something about The fall, why is it that they all act as if God didn’t know it was going to happen?
God created everything, God knows all, He’s known me since the creation of time, universe, earth, and so on–but really? He didn’t know Adam and Eve would sin?
I can’t get on that train.
I’ve never heard someone express opinions about the fall that say God created the universe knowing full well the first people would sin and He did it anyway with His divine plan in mind anyway. Nope. I hear them say, God created everything perfect for us and we screwed it up so then He had to come up with the Jesus plan.
Ok, so they don’t say it quite as sarcastically as I, but is my point being made?
Quit acting as if God had to change His plans because we did something that surprised Him.
They’re pressed in many books I have no intention of ever discarding. Given to me on such a regular basis, I took for granted their rarity.
She’d tip-toe through my yard as if walking a tight-rope, even though the yard was nothing but weeds and rocks. She’d bend in half like a ballerina and go right to them, they must have been whispering her name.
She’s been gone almost fifteen months now, but I still see her petite frame walking towards me, her small arm extended, her thin hand bent slightly, and between her long fingers–another four leaf clover for me, “Look! A ‘prise!” she’d sing. Never a “suprise” always a ‘prise. Always.
The odds of finding a 4-Leaf clover is estimated at 10,000 to 1.
And the odds of having such a best friend? There aren’t enough stars in the sky. Love you Jill