"This is the day...

...the Lord has made; we will rejoice and be glad in it." That's Psalm 118:24. That verse is usually quoted at the beginning of a new day. (I often pray it early in the morning: "Help me to rejoice and be glad in it.") But have you ever heard anyone quote that verse at night? After you've had a really bad day?

I had a bad day yesterday. I thought and prayed about whether or not I should write about it here, but I think maybe there are some people reading this who need to know that it's OK to have a bad day once in a while.

I mean, it's not OK, but you know what I mean. If/when you have a bad day, Somebody wants to make His shoulder available to cry on.

"Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow. Make me hear joy and gladness, that the bones You have broken may rejoice. Hide Your face from my sins, and blot out all my iniquities.

...

O Lord, open my lips, and my mouth shall show forth Your praise. For You do not desire sacrifice, or else I would give it; You do not delight in burnt offering. The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit, a broken and a contrite heart -- these, O God, You will not despise." (Psalm 51:7-9, 15-17)

 

This is a picture of me singing on a mission trip in Juarez, Mexico, about 17 years ago. I used to go on those mission trips with a bunch of college students. I have mixed feelings about those mission trips now. Sure, I don't doubt that many people got saved and met God for the very first time. In that respect, mission accomplished. But did everyone who prayed a "salvation prayer" truly give their life to Christ? Or did some people just succumb to the onslaught of gringo college students who were possibly accidentally manipulating them into praying? Were the people of Juarez sincere? Were they afraid of us? Were they being overly courteous doormats, as many of us Hispanics tend to be? Or were they just praying to be polite so that we would get off their turf and leave them alone?

I've probably overthought these trips in hindsight, but sometimes a chick's just gotta think through stuff and unravel stuff out of her head. I'm pretty sure I disposed of the lyric sheets that we used for these street-music ministry sets, but I think I still have those Spanish songs memorized.

During one particular mission trip in Juarez, one man attended one of our street-music ministry sets and tearfully gave his life to Christ. I think he met us on the way back home from a bar or something like that. But a few months later, I saw him on the mission trip's video tearfully having another conversation during another street-music ministry set. I think somebody observed that that man tearfully got saved every night that we were there.

Shortly after that mission trip, I heard a pastor talk about how events are sometimes designed to be very intense, I think like a foundation that we can build on later. But intense events like that aren't necessarily an example of daily life. That man on the mission trip who tearfully kept repenting to God would only have us crazy gringos with him for a few days. We wouldn't be around to hold his hand for the rest of his life. How would he survive after we'd travel back home?

That pastor was right. For the most part, intense events with God are designed to pump vision into us. Carrying out that vision is a different story. I mean, after Moses had his famous burning-bush experience, the same God who appeared to him in the burning bush and called him to lead His people out of Egypt also appeared to him one night ready to kill him because he hadn't circumcised his son. (From what I understand, that incident caused a major strain in Moses' marriage.)

Yep. After the cool power encounters, we have the nuts and bolts of daily life to deal with. And the only One who will always be there for you during those mundane, life-in-your-face times is God. (And it's always a good idea to obey Him when He tells you to do stuff like circumcise your sons.)

So, one of those mundane, life-in-your-face times for me was yesterday. And it was a bad day.

I mean, you'd probably have a bad day, too, if you drove to work and wondered if you might actually get paid that day because your boss has a bad habit of paying you whenever the heck he feels like it, and then you looked out the window and noticed that it was snowing, and you stayed glued to all the windows in the office and had trouble concentrating on your work because you noticed that it was snowing harder, and it was sticking, and you didn't want to drive home in that, and you wondered if you'd be stuck there at work that day, especially since the boss' 50-year-old son who never wears pants, always shorts, was like, "It's just snow," and he makes fun of you when he sees you staring out the window, and he's like, "There's Tirzah. It's Snowmageddon!" And your coworker who's never seen snow is freaking out along with you, and you hope that you won't have to spend the night with these people, and your boss finally shows up and is like, "Aw, I love snow," and he listens to the appeals of your freaked-out coworker and lets us all go home early, and you spend like 20 minutes brushing off the snow from the car, and it takes you like an hour to drive home, and you realize that the "It's just snow" turns into ice after people drive over it and melt it with their warm cars, and it more than likely freezes again because it's like 26 degrees outside, and you're so thankful to make it home again, where it's warm, and you relax a little bit too thoroughly, to the point of slipping up, and you email your boss to ask him about your paycheck, and he emails you back to tell you that he passed out everybody's paychecks about half an hour after he said we could go home if we wanted to, and then you spend the next hour pacing your living room and calling your boss a bleeping bleephole behind his back, but at least you make arrangements with him to hide your paycheck in your desk so that it will be safe there in that office that doesn't have any security guards, and rent is due, and you seriously spend like an hour praying through the fact that your boss is a bleeping bleephole, and you try to forgive him as thoroughly as you can, because you can't think straight anymore, because you're so freaking mad, and you feel so disrespected as an employee because now you have to wait until the streets thaw out before you can drive back to your office and pick up your paycheck, and didn't that bleeping bleephole see me spending 20 minutes brushing the snow off my car, and why didn't he flag me down and be like, Hey, chickie, let me give you your paycheck before you leave, because that's the whole point of you killing yourself working for me here, isn't it, and now I'm stuck at home where I have PMS and no chocolate, and oh my gosh.

So, while I was pacing my apartment in a freaking rage yesterday, God was like, "You're having a bad day. I want your bad day."

So, He didn't try to kill me like He did with Moses. He listened to me, and He helped me calm down. Then last night, I watched comedy videos on the internet for a really long time because I really needed to laugh. And then when the videos were over, I flipped over to Psalm 51 on my computer, and I cried. I turned to God and asked Him, "Do You still want me?" Of course He did. When I went to bed, He met me gently at my pillow and asked, "Do you want to talk about it?" I don't remember my exact response, but I basically said, "I just want to matter. I matter." And then I probably drifted off to sleep, because I don't remember anything else until 7 hours later.

People talk about "The Five Love Languages" all the time, so I won't go into that in detail here. Personally, I think that whole theory is a load of malarkey, for reasons that I won't go into here. But I am probably full of crap. And I will say that God has told me, "Your love language is shepherding," and it's both ways (giving and receiving), and He's totally right.

By that, I mean that the way I express love for a person (or cats), the way that I show that I care about them, is by checking on them. "Hey, how are you doing? How is that situation you asked me to pray for?" I think my cats can vouch for this. "Hello, how are you doing? I'm about to leave the room. Are you going to be OK in here?" Yes, Mom. We're cats.

And when somebody neglects to check on me, I don't feel loved. When somebody neglects to take care of me, I don't feel loved. When I look around at the backdrop of my life and see that God has gone out of His way to carve out a job, a place to live, and a church for me to serve, I see that He has been taking extremely good care of me, and I feel loved. But when a boss couldn't care less about my drive to or from work, or when I have to guess when I'm going to get my paycheck, I don't feel taken care of, and I don't feel loved at all.

I think that is a huge reason why I was freaking out so much yesterday.

Speaking of my job, last month when I was playing hide-and-seek with my paycheck, God told me to wait three months before looking for another job. Yesterday, He told me with a knowing smirk, "It's only been one month."

Yep. That it has.

So, I think during these next two months -- actually, probably for the rest of my life -- I want God to squeeze out anything that He needs to squeeze out of my heart. Anything that's rotten, nasty, and decaying, I would very much like for Him to remove it and replace it with new stuff -- His stuff.

So, about 17 years ago during that mission trip to Juarez, Mexico, I remember walking the streets with a group of people who were itching to share the gospel with somebody. If I remember correctly, they put me in charge of that small group of people. We found a guy who was working under the hood of his car. The itchy gospel-sharers in my group were like, "Hey, let's talk to that guy!" I was like, "No, I don't think we should bother him." Then as we were walking away, one of the chicks in my group was like, "Lord, I pray that You would break the spirit of fear off of Tirzah."

Um, was that the spirit of fear, or was that me being a shepherd? Was that me being afraid of sharing the gospel, or was that me being sensitive to the fact that some guy who's minding his own business under the hood of his car might not appreciate a bunch of crazy itchy gospel-sharing gringos getting in his face?

To this day, I'm honestly not sure. But at least I know who I am now.

It's OK to have a bad day once in a while, but I hope today will be a much better day than yesterday... even though I'm stuck at home with PMS and no chocolate.

And I have a Father who takes extremely good care of me -- better than anyone else ever will -- and He listens to me. And He still wants me. Those are all definitely good reasons to rejoice and be glad today.

Conditioning

This post is rated... um, well... I'm going to talk a little bit about sex, but I'm going to try to do so in a way that's as rated-G as possible. If you're extremely sensitive about this subject, or if you have a tendency to "stumble" easily, you might want to consider skipping this post. If you do, I won't be offended, honest.

"Have you entered the treasury of snow, or have you seen the treasury of hail, which I have reserved for the time of trouble, for the day of battle and war?" (God administering a verbal spanking in Job 38:22-23)

"He gives snow like wool; He scatters the frost like ashes; He casts out His hail like morsels; who can stand before His cold? He sends out His word and melts them; He causes His wind to blow, and the waters flow." (a psalmist gushing about God's healing goodness in Psalm 147:16-18)

 

This is a picture of my conditioner. I really like what it does to my hair. If I use it like I'm supposed to and leave it in my hair for about a minute before rinsing it out, it will work. However, if I'm in a hurry and I rinse it out before it's had a chance to do its job, I could possibly have a bad hair day. So, conditioner is my friend. I know. I'm a girl.

I deal with seasonal allergies. Last year, I neglected to eat local honey for my allergies, and I've really felt it this year. So, I've been treating them with generic Sudafed-related products. God showed me that by the time I take over-the-counter medicine for my allergies, they're beyond anything that honey can help with. (One time a few years ago, I was coughing my lungs out with possible bronchitis while I was at somebody's house; I mentioned to my hosts that I had allergies, and they offered to give me some local honey to help with them. Uh, no. Probably what I needed by that point were antibiotics.) Meanwhile, I've begun eating local honey again, but I understand that I will need to wait a couple of months or so before I will be able to notice its effects. You see, generic Sudafed-related products are medical treatments. Local honey is conditioning that's designed to help my body not need any medical treatments.

I get it. Local honey is like conditioner: If I want it to work for me, I need to wait for the desired results. See? God knows how to talk to me. I know. I'm a girl.

I'm discovering that so much stuff in God's Kingdom is like conditioner: If I want it to be effective, I need to wait for the desired results. I can't just be in a hurry, rinse it out too soon, and expect it to work right. If I do (and I have), I could get very disappointed, disillusioned, or just become a sitting duck for my enemies to take me out once and for all.

For a while, I've been very fascinated with how the Bible talks about God using hail as a weapon. I think that makes sense: If really big hailstones smack you on the head hard enough, they could kill you. Hail can cause some serious damage. Just ask any Texan insurance adjuster during tornado season.

Today while I was watching snow flurries fall, I thought about how God uses snow as a weapon, too. No, the flurries I saw today didn't stick, and the temperature was above freezing, so the snow didn't cause any damage. But if you just mention the word "snow" to any native Texan right before rush hour, you could possibly witness a live horror movie dance across her face. Even the threat of show can cause some serious damage.

What do hail and snow have in common? Well, they're cold. They're a form of water. And if they melt, they will gradually moisturize anything they touch. I'm not a scientist, but I would say that hail and snow are like a type of conditioner. You could probably water your lawn pretty well with hail or snow; you'd just need to wait for it to melt in order to do its job.

Speaking of jobs, as I've mentioned previously, I work for a periodical that serves the metalworking industry. If you've been following my blog this year, you know that I've been fighting a sex-related addiction. So, a huge part of my battles is trying to NOT think about sex. Well... I've discovered that working for the metalworking industry is often NOT the place to be if you're trying to stop thinking about sex. The metalworking industry uses terms like "mating male and female parts," "self-lubrication," "sliding action," "thrusting," "hardness," etc. See my problem? Oh, good, I felt my ears blush when I typed that. Maybe there's still some innocence there.

So, during the day when I read this type of terminology in my work-related materials, I turn to God, and I'm like, Um... And He just laughs. And I laugh with Him. Apparently, the human reproductive system is a very serious thing, and I need some major comic relief while I'm working through my issues with it.

Last summer while I was unemployed and trying to get free from my sex-related issues simultaneously, God showed me that my issues were suddenly at the forefront because in my next job, I would be around a lot of men. Sure enough, as soon as I got hired, the female secretary was like, Yay, another girl! We women in the office are surrounded by men who are all in charge of us. And I now work in a severely male-dominated industry.

God was right. He knew what would be around the corner. Seriously. I'm a very hormonal woman in her late 30s. All the men in my workplace look attractive to me. Even the married men are attractive to me now. Even the guy in the office across the hall -- the nerdy guy who smells like feet and who I think is gay -- looks attractive to me. I need to watch myself big-time.

And God just laughs. And I laugh with Him.

He's shown me that right now, my life is a slow crawl. Wait -- my life is a     s   l   o   w     c   r   a   w   l     right now. Nothing in my life is happening at lightning speed right now. Things are moving, but at a snail's pace. Wait -- at the pace of a snail carrying 80 pounds of luggage uphill. And there's nothing wrong with that. It's just that sometimes, lasting change needs to take a very long time to set in -- to truly grow. My life's current season is that "sometimes" right now.

They didn't teach me this stuff at the "If you call the 800 number on your screen, we'll send you your instant life-purpose, and if you call in the next 5 minutes, we'll send you a spouse as a bonus" church environment I hung around in college and shortly thereafter. They didn't really model what to do when God teaches you Psalm-37 type of stuff and makes you really dwell in the land and feed on His faithfulness, and when He wants you to spend a really long time pulling out that faithfulness that has deep roots and chewing on it until it's all gone... and then chewing on it again and again and again... like a cow.

Sometimes God will just wave at you with a friendly grin and be like, "Moo." He ain't in no hurry.

So, back to the sex-related addiction that I've been fighting. My pastor (who is an extremely good one, by the way) suggested that I ask God for a strategy on how to fight it. So, when I prayed about it, God was like, "You're asking Me for a band-aid, but what you need is a transfusion." I don't have just a flesh wound; I've had the wrong stuff circulating through my system. Again, I'm not a scientist, but I think a band-aid is a quick fix that is meant to be very temporary; a transfusion is a gradual trading-in of one substance for another.

I think saying one or two prayers, binding one or two demons, or attending one or two church events -- for me -- would be like a band-aid. But developing an extremely close relationship with my Father -- the One who can get me to laugh at the very thing that used to freak me out -- would be like a transfusion. I don't need an over-the-counter medical treatment. I need a gradual reconditioning.

Yeah, He just laughs. And I laugh with Him.

See? God knows how to talk to me. I know. I'm a girl.

"Rules without relationship...

...lead to rebellion." Have you ever heard that adage? I can testify that it's a 100% true adage.

It's amazing how much baggage you can carry with you throughout life. Stuff gets packed inside you when you're a teeny-tiny child, and then you get to unpack it -- all rotten, moldy, and nasty -- when you're an adult. Speaking of baggage, I was quite impressed this morning with the little bags that have been forming under my eyes. (This photo doesn't really do them justice, but whatevs.) Lately when I've been buying over-the-counter medicine at Dollar Tree, the cashiers haven't carded me whenever their register beeps at them. One of the cashiers assured me that I am over 18.

Finally! Some age-appropriate acknowledgement! It's nice to be treated like a chick who's in her late 30s, because she actually is one. Being treated like a child isn't always a good thing.

But when God does that to me, it's 100% OK, 100% necessary, and 100% craved by the deepest parts of my insides, simply because of who I am, because of who He is, and because of who we are to each other.

"When the righteous rejoice, there is great glory; but when the wicked arise, men hide themselves." (Proverbs 28:12)

"When the righteous are in authority, the people rejoice; but when a wicked man rules, the people groan." (Proverbs 29:2)

Have you ever seen a little kid get scolded by several relatives simultaneously? as in, a little 3-year-old gets reprimanded by her mom, dad, grandfather, grandmother, and two aunts, all at the same time? Well, that little girl used to be me. I don't remember the exact details (I may have also exaggerated the previous couple of sentences a bit), but years later I heard about how several authority figures towering over me after I had done something wrong made me cry.

Basically, I have the same situation at work now. After I do something wrong, it's common for about 3-7 of my immediate supervisors to come together and rebuke me. I'm all for correction. I hope I can consider myself a Psalm 141:5 type of woman. But ganging up on an employee to shame her for making honest mistakes is pretty tacky, in my biased opinion.

So, being stuck at home all by myself during Thundersleet 2015 is a reason to rejoice. I can't control all 7 of my immediate supervisors, because I don't have any authority over them. However, I do have authority over my enemies -- the world, the flesh, and the devil -- so, in that respect, I would rather be stuck to battle them here alone than at work where I have to fly by the seats of my 7 bosses' pants.

But when I slip up and let my enemies get the best of me, it still bothers me. And it's supposed to.

"I will not rebuke you for your sacrifices or your burnt offerings, which are continually before Me. I will not take a bull from your house, nor goats out of your folds. For every beast of the forest is Mine, and the cattle on a thousand hills. I know all the birds of the mountains, and the wild beasts of the field are Mine. If I were hungry, I would not tell you; for the world is Mine, and all its fullness. Will I eat the flesh of bulls, or drink the blood of goats? Offer to God thanksgiving, and pay your vows to the Most High. Call upon Me in the day of trouble; I will deliver you, and you shall glorify Me." (Psalm 50:8-15)

The more in touch I become with my issues, especially the social ones, the more I get to know God and understand Him a little bit better. He's all about relationship. In the Bible, I read stories about how He did crazy-awesome things through and with ordinary people. Sure, there were times when He miraculously showed up and did powerful stuff at random. But other times, He moved through and with people who were His close friends.

Moses wrote the first 5 books of the Bible, gave the Israelites the Ten Commandments and the law, led them through the wilderness, and bugged Pharaoh with 10 plagues until God's people were finally released from bondage in Egypt. Then many years later, he appeared to Jesus along with Elijah. You think God moved so powerfully through and with Moses because he was a perfect, sinless guy? Nope. At one point, God was about to kill Moses because he hadn't circumcised his son. And yet God showed Moses His glory. Personally, in my biased opinion, I think it was because Moses spent so much time hanging out with God. The Bible says that Moses spoke to God face to face as a man speaks to his friend.

King David fought a lot of battles, killed Goliath, wrote a lot of songs, and was called a man after God's own heart. You think God moved so powerfully through and with King David because he was a perfect, sinless guy? Nope. He's the one who had an affair with a married woman, impregnated her, and then arranged to have her husband killed to cover up the whole thing. God saw everything, of course, and He made sure that King David knew that his little baby son would die as a consequence of his actions. And yet God honored King David, even to the point of making sure that Jesus was born into his lineage. Personally, in my biased opinion, I think it was because David spent so much time hanging out with God, repenting, and expressing his heart to Him. A huge collection of his songs to God are included smack-dab in the middle of the Bible.

So, when I read Psalm 50 now, I hear God going, "Look, I'm not really interested in all these freakin' bulls you keep bringing Me. You think I need more bulls? I already own all the cattle in the entire universe. I'm not interested in your religious lipservice sacrifices. I want you to acknowledge Me as a Person. I've helped you; please thank Me. You made promises to Me; please keep them. You can't make it through this life alone; I'm your Daddy; please call Me when you need Me; when you do, that will give Me glory. So, you can keep your freakin' bulls. I just want a relationship with you."

I think it's interesting how in the Garden of Eden, when mankind first sinned, and then first felt ashamed, God didn't immediately show up in consuming-fire glory and demand, "HOW DARE YOU DEFY THE ONE AND ONLY LIVING GOD?!?!" He showed up like a Friend and asked, "Where are you?"

Last night after I messed up, God didn't kill me, and He didn't leave me. The Holy Spirit was like, "Hey, remember Me? I'm your Helper. You've been so focused on your body being My temple, but now I'm going to show you how I'm your Helper." So, this next leg of my journey will probably be pretty darn cool.

I like having a relationship with God. As introverted and socially awkward as I am, relationship is ironically the biggest motivation I have to do anything in this life. No matter how old I get, no matter how many responsibilities He gives or takes away from me, and no matter how many little bags I grow under my eyes, I will always be God's child. When He adopts somebody, He adopts them forever. I am that somebody. He will always be my Father. So, He can talk to me however He wants. He can set as many rules for me as He wants. He will never shame me. He will never be arrogant toward me. He will never make me feel bad about myself. I can trust Him.

I've realized that I haven't been very far from my cats lately. (In fact, one of them sauntered up to me and meowed while I was typing this just now.) I haven't gone on any overnight out-of-town trips in a couple of years. Last year, there was Icemageddon, which confined me to my apartment for a few days, and then I had 6 months of unemployment that kept me perpetually at home. Yesterday and today the ice has kept me at home. This entire time, my cats have rarely been without me.

I think it's safe to say that during this season when I've been very near and very available to my cats, they've gotten to trust me more than ever. Even though they're (tamed and altered) wild animals, they let me do things like temporarily take their food bowls away from them while they're eating so that I can adjust their portions; perform monthly maintenance on them such as trim their nails, clean their ears, and apply medicine to their fur (with minimal to no growling/scratching/biting); and leave my lunch or dinner unattended without them giving in to temptation and eating it themselves. I know they're just cats, but I'm very proud of them for all of that.

Cats especially are routine-oriented animals. They depend on me to feed them at certain times (no, I still don't give in to their demands to be fed dinner at the insane hour of 2:30 p.m.), and they freak out a little bit when the routine changes (like when I ended up staying home yesterday), but they're able to adjust pretty quickly. Perhaps I'm reading way too much into their wild-animal behavior, but in my biased opinion, I think they're able to adjust because they have a relationship with me and they trust me.

Of course this is very similar to the way that God and I interact with each other.

When I was much younger, I knew God at a distance. Everyone around me was always shoving rules down my throat: Don't have sex until you get married, Don't drink, Don't smoke, Don't do drugs, Don't believe anything that the Baptist church doesn't teach, Don't vote any way that the Republicans won't vote, bla bla bla bla bla. Sure, there is some good swirling around in that boiling pot of garbage, but what kind of motivation do you expect me to have to follow all those rules just for the sake of rules? In my biased opinion, just like how God doesn't give a flip about all those bulls, I don't give a flip about all those rules. If you want me to behave, you need for my behavior to come naturally to me, and you need to have my heart. A collection of 3-7 supervisors crucifying me in front of the entire office isn't going to win my heart. A Holy, Gentle, Powerful, Kind, Loving Father who wants me and won't give up on me is going to win my heart.

And He did.

My mind is always active, and often racing, so I need to be careful about what I think about. I don't remember the details, but this morning, I (finally) caught myself fantasizing something angry, probably telling off a friend in my head, and I was like What the heck? God was like, You grew up in a house where there was constantly angry, boiling conflict, and it was chronic, so that's all you know.

So, He and I have been working on changing what I know.

About a month and a half ago when I began fasting (along with the rest of my church), the prayer that kept bubbling out of my heart was, "Let new bone and tissue grow." When I had my wisdom teeth pulled a couple of years ago (of course I blogged about it), those rotting things were removed from me, and they left rather large holes in their place. When the dental professionals talk to you about your aftercare, they're like, "Oh, yeah, new jawbone is going to grow in its place," and they sort of make it sound like it will heal almost instantaneously. What they don't tell you is that new jawbone can take a really long time to grow (especially when you're in your late 30s).

So, metaphorically speaking, my sin and iniquity has been removed from me like a nasty, rotten tooth. In its place, new metaphorical jawbone has been growing, and its completion will more than likely take some time.

Even though I've been very hard on myself, God seems excited about my progress. Last night, He showed me that instead of spending a few seconds resisting and an hour sinning, I'm now spending like an hour resisting and a few minutes sinning. I still think it's a few minutes too many, and I'm still thankful that He hasn't flicked me off the face of the earth.

When I listen to secular music, especially love ballads, the "don't abandon me" songs really catch my attention now. When I listen to Queen's "Love of my Life," I especially hear God's heart: "Back, hurry back, don't take it away from Me, because you don't know what it means to Me." If there are problems in my relationship with God (which are always on my end, never on His end), what would break His heart would be if I were to just kick Him to the curb and end the relationship altogether. He doesn't want me to break up with Him. If there are problems in my relationship with God (it's not Him, it's me), what He longs to do is fix them and work through them. He wants me to reconcile with Him.

One time when I was repenting, God wasn't like, "HOW DARE YOU DEFY THE ONE AND ONLY LIVING GOD?!?!" He was like, "Your heart is good. I can work with it." You think I would want to snuggle into the unforgiving embrace of an overbearing God who would readily shame me in front of everybody before He burns me into a crisp? No way. I want to plaster myself against the Consuming Fire who has the power, authority, and right to completely dispose of me into the pit of hell, but who won't, because of what His Son did on the cross for my sake, and because He adopted me and can't disown me, and because He loves me and wants to keep me. Heck yes, I want to be close to THAT God. If He sets rules, I can learn to follow them, with His help, no problem. (The other type of God would only drive me to give Him lipservice to His face but sin as much as I want to behind His back.)

Relationship takes time to grow, like an entirely new jawbone. The deep, close, best kind of relationships can especially take a really long time to grow. And they're totally worth growing.

I think my cat who sniffed my eyeball this morning can vouch for that.

Favor-flavored stew

This post will probably have some bits of different things swirling around in it, but I hope the end result will flow together OK. Maybe the dark meat will give way to the white meat, and maybe the gravy will soak into all the bits that are kinda tough to swallow. I hope it won't taste too bitter, but the kitchen sure smells good.

Last night for dinner, I used my Chili's gift card to enjoy a nice sit-down meal. Actually, it wasn't the most pleasant experience in the world, but it at least gave me an idea for this post. I think I need to process some stuff here and get it out of my head. Thanks in advance for reading this and indulging me. (I'll try to not give you indigestion.)

So, last night, I arrived around 5 p.m. at a restaurant that was almost empty but eager to host happy hour. Sorry, I don't drink. I don't go to Chili's very often, but I remember it was the cool place to eat when I was in college. Last night, I realized how much the chain had changed since my college days.

I usually order a hamburger, but this time I decided to try the Country Fried Steak. I had a team of two servers: one main waiter who took my order, and one waitress who I think was supposed to serve me my drink, but I don't really remember her giving me any refills. Anyway, they didn't seem very enthusiastic about me ordering just water. However, I was pretty enthusiastic to try out the Ziosk.

The Ziosk is this nifty little portable iPad-mini type of device on display at your table. Mine had the menu, 99-cent games, and free apps. Since I don't own a smartphone yet, I was in my own little introvert paradise while I browsed USA Today and caught up a tiny bit on random news events.

While I was in my introvert paradise, I'm not sure if I was accidentally giving off my "Don't bother me" vibe, because the servers were mostly ignoring me. I'm hoping they weren't just being lazy and/or simply favoring the other customers who were ordering appetizers and margaritas. Sorry, I just wanted to try the Country Fried Steak. Yikes. Now I know to stay away from that. It was huge and intriguing but way too salty.

While I was looking through the menu, I realized that most of the food that Chili's serves is rather true to its name now: Southwest-style Mexican-food wannabe stuff. Hmm. Personally, I recommend leaving the Mexican food to actual Mexican people to cook for you, because they know what they're doing. (Unless you're Jason's Deli; if that's the case, then everything on your menu is fantástico.) But in my opinion, what the Chili's chain really has going for it is its atmosphere. If your servers ignore your customers, that totally ruins your atmosphere.

So, instead of leaving some candid comments at the Ziosk, I decided to blog. Seriously, if anyone comes into your restaurant, you don't know who you're going to be serving. Why show favoritism to your customers who are ordering appetizers and margaritas? The chick sitting by herself with a mug of icewater and her nose in your Ziosk could be a blogger who decides to never return to your restaurant.

"For they did not gain possession of the land by their own sword, nor did their own arm save them; but it was Your right hand, Your arm, and the light of Your countenance, because You favored them." (Psalm 44:3)

Speaking of favoritism, I wanted to get some stuff off my chest about my boss. While I've been working for him, I've been learning a lot about submitting to authority, walking in self-control, and functioning in an environment that I don't have any authority to change. I know. It sounds like more fodder for therapy, right? It's actually quite tolerable. I'm just learning where to step so that I won't accidentally hit any quicksand, cow patties, or landmines.

At the periodical where I work, one thing that bothers me is the favoritism that my boss shows to our advertisers. We are required to publish certain ads in certain places in our periodical because that's what many of them pay for; that part is understandable. But there are other advertisers at the feet of which my bosses tend to grovel... even though I've rarely seen any of those particular advertisements in our periodical. Seriously, these people haven't advertised with us for a long time. Why are we supposed to kiss up to them?

The nepotism in the office bothers me, too. There isn't much I can do about that, because the boss hired his family to work for him, and the other people have been working there for years, so they've earned serious loyalty points with him.

And, of course, a lot of this bothers me because I have neglect issues from my past. I grew up in a house where I was NOT the favored one. So, God and I have been working through this.

One thing I've been thinking about lately is the parable of the talents in Matthew 25. People usually teach that the moral of that story is that if you don't use the talent God gives you, He'll take it away. And that's definitely an important lesson in the story. But that isn't the entire story.

In that parable, the boss -- who is called "a hard man" -- goes on a journey and leaves his employees in charge of his "talents" -- a unit of currency back in biblical times. Each employee is given a certain number of talents to do business with, each according to his ability. So, when the boss comes back to settle accounts with his employees, the guy he gave 5 talents to earned 5 more talents (10 total) while his boss was away. The guy who got 2 talents earned 2 more talents (4 total). Both of these guys get commended by their boss, who tells them, "Well done, good and faithful servant." But the guy who got one talent didn't earn anything with it; he buried it and then returned it to his boss at the end of the parable. The excuse he gave his boss was, "I knew you were a hard man, reaping where you don't sow, it's your fault that I didn't do anything while you were gone, bla bla bla bla bla." Of course, his boss was furious, and he lectured him: "Hey, you wicked and lazy servant, if you knew that I was 'a hard man,' then you should have at least invested your talent and put it in the bank for safekeeping so that I could have at least earned some interest with it. But you just buried it. You stole it, you shirked your responsibility, and now you're fired, you bum." (Yes, I'm paraphrasing.)

I was raised by "a hard man," so I understand what it's like to be under a ridiculously overbearing authority figure. But I think this may be the first time I've ever worked for "a hard man" whose characteristics are very similar to the "hard man" in Matthew 25.

My boss does travel a lot, and he does assign some very specific stuff for each of us to work on while he's gone. Sometimes the assignments he makes are very fair, and they take our abilities into account. Other times, they make no sense whatsoever, and we have no choice but to just go with the flow of his whims. He sets standards that he himself does not endeavor to adhere to. He has a habit of not properly crediting people for their work... unless it is one of his favored employees -- in which case, he lets all of us know about their accomplishments. And his family is either just like him or in helpless submission to him.

Here's the deal: I'm not the boss. He is. The periodical that I work to create for him isn't mine. It's his. God and I have had some candid conversations about this.

I mean, we've had to. You know me. I'm not exactly known for keeping my opinions to myself.

At work, I am not in charge. My boss is in charge. What he says goes.

So, if he wants to announce to the company that we all need to work on a certain project because it's very important, only to interrupt my day to instruct me to work on a completely different project so that a client can have his way, that's the boss' right. That's how he does business. And I have to comply.

So, if he wants to hire a couple of introverts who don't like to interact with people, and if he wants to train them on how to make sales calls, that's the boss' right. That's how he does business. And I have to comply.

So, if he wants to put people who don't have journalism degrees or college degrees in charge of my editing assignments, including putting the secretary who has poor grammar and spelling skills in charge of proofreading my hardcopies, that's the boss' right. That's how he does business. And I have to comply.

So, if he wants to lecture me about the importance of proofreading so that I can catch my errors and our advertisers won't yell at us because I accidentally misspelled the name of one of their products, and then he accidentally misspells my name an email that he sends to the entire company, that's the boss' right. That's how he does business. And I have to comply.

So, if he wants to sit back and say nothing during a company meeting where I'm referred to as "the evil editor" because I do my job and catch mistakes that should have been caught on our periodical before it gets printed for all posterity to read, that's the boss' right. That's how he does business. And I have to comply.

"Commit your way to the Lord, trust also in Him, and He shall bring it to pass. He shall bring forth your righteousness as the light, and your justice as the noonday." (Psalm 37:5-6)

In the parable of the talents, we're not really given details about what the employees did with their talents while their boss was away. We just know the end results. And we know that the results were really all that the boss seemed concerned about.

Without going into too much detail, I will say that I work in a very enmeshed, codependent environment where -- in addition to kissing up to the people who ignore us -- people enable other people's incompetence, celebrate other people's mediocrity, and assume that everyone around them (except the boss) is a little child who knows nothing. And I must say... if you want to treat me like that, that's your right. That's how you do business. And I have to comply.

And I'm happy to.

I know how to maneuver around an enmeshed, codependent environment -- where therapists could enjoy their own private psychology wonderland for decades on end -- because I grew up in one.

Can you hear my roaring maniacal laughter? Good!

Yes, of course my motives are sneaky. Enmeshment is a state in which people's lives are smushed up against one another in an extremely unhealthy way, with no boundaries, no freedom to express oneself candidly, and a ton of shame. In an enmeshed environment, all the people there supposedly couldn't survive without one another. There are usually people playing the roles of parents, who are spoonfeeding the people who are playing the roles of children, regardless of how old the people are.

You see, enmeshment is a state that is basically based in pride. The basic idea is "You can't do this without me," so I'm going to stand behind your chair and watch you finish up the page layout for this very important assignment. "You can't do this without me," so I'm going to dictate this email to our client; you type exactly what I say. "You can't do this without me," so when you mess up, I'm going to email you and CC several of your coworkers so that I can show you exactly where you were wrong and so that you won't mess up again. "You can't do this without me," so since I emailed this client, please use my wording as an example of how to email clients; file this email away for future reference. "You can't do this without me..."

...because when you're the boss in an enmeshed, codependent environment, you think you're God.

Oh, yeah. I'm very thankful for my past right now. I know how to maneuver around this, because I grew up in a place very similar to this one.

So, I'm not in despair. I'm free. In fact, I'm probably not meshing with this environment very well because God has already uninstalled the enmeshment and codependent software from my hard drive. If you try to get it to run, you'll keep getting error messages.

Meanwhile, you can keep thinking I am happy here in your enmeshed, codependent environment. If you want to believe that, that's your right. That's how you do business. And I am happy to comply... because when it's finally time for me to leave -- whether sooner or later -- you'll be so focused on maintaining your unprofessional work environment that you won't notice me looking for another job. I will more than likely fly right under your radar.

My boss didn't see it coming from my predecessor, and when the time is right, he might not see it coming from me, either.

One major advantage of NOT being the favored one is not having your enmeshed, codependent authority figure focused on you. When they aren't paying attention to you, you can simply leave. Escape. Freedom.

FREEDOM!!!!!!!

Whoo. That felt great to type.

"Listen, O daughter, consider and incline your ear; forget your own people also, and your father's house; so the King will greatly desire your beauty; because He is your Lord, worship Him. And the daughter of Tyre will come with a gift; the rich among the people will seek your favor." (Psalm 45:10-12)

I've been talking a lot about myself, but the truth is that God favors every single one of us. We're all His favorite. (If you never accept Him, that will be a completely different story.) I think I understand that more than ever now.

Years ago when I was being trained to lead a church lifegroup, they told us, "You never know who you'll be discipling." And they were right. The person whose life you're investing in now could become the next Billy Graham. Or the next Dennis Jernigan. Or the next Joyce Meyer. Or the next [insert name of majorly influential person here]. You just never know.

The chick sitting by herself with a mug of icewater at your restaurant could turn out to be a blogger. The overly zealous new employee at your office could turn out to be one of the best editors you've ever had. The constantly overlooked little girl in your household could turn out to have one of the biggest backbones your family has ever seen, and she could use it to walk away from your family forever.

The arrogantly ambitious boy you sold into slavery could turn out to be second in command in all the land of Egypt, and you could end up needing his help during a famine. The outcast artsy-fartsy boy you entrust to herd your sheep could turn out to be the king of Israel and one of the best songwriters this world has ever known. The unabashedly weeping woman who's embarrassing you during your dinner with an important Person could turn out to be one of the most honored people in church history after she breaks an alabaster jar over her Master's head. The Carpenter from Nazareth could turn out to be the Savior of the world. And He did. And He is.

"The stone which the builders rejected has become the chief cornerstone. This was the Lord's doing; it is marvelous in our eyes." (Psalm 118:22-23)

Yes, of course Jesus understands how I feel. He's the One who keeps showing me how to maneuver through it. And for that I am thankful.

Earlier, I mentioned that I used my Chili's gift card to eat dinner. Nobody gave me that gift card. I bought it with the intention of giving it away as a present. Well, long story short, I decided to not give those particular people the card after all. I decided to use it for myself. And that's my right. That's how I do business. You don't have to comply, but I hope you'll understand that I get to do whatever the heck I want with my stuff. I get to bestow my favor upon whomever I wish.

I guess in a way, God works the same way. He gets to favor whoever He wants. He's the Boss. That's His right. That's how He does business. And I have to comply.

And I'm very happy to.

At first, the photo I shared at the beginning of this post really didn't have anything to do with this post. I caught my cat Macho hanging out inside my bathroom cabinets (which he's not allowed to do), so I decided to take a picture of that silly scene. But now that I think about it, I think the picture fits. Macho is the kitten who greeted me at the door when I visited my friend's house one evening about 15 years ago. You never know who will become family to you. The orange kitten meowing at you at your friend's door could turn out to be your Macho.

He's my most favorite boy cat in the entire universe.

"Hero"

Lately, some of the people in my life have been telling me, "Tirzah, you're my hero!" I think some of them have been playing around, but some of them really mean what they say.

In this post, I would like to bust your "hero" paradigm a little bit. As they say in The Princess Bride, you keep using that word. I don't think it means what you think it means.

"...though He was a Son, yet He learned obedience by the things which He suffered." (Hebrews 5:8, talking about Jesus)

"For we do not have a High Priest who cannot sympathize with our weaknesses, but was in all points tempted as we are, yet without sin." (Hebrews 4:15)

Of course, Jesus is my Hero. Conqueror of sin and death? The Son of God whose Name is above every name? The King of Kings and the Lord of Lords? The Alpha and Omega? The Beginning and the End? The One who was and is and is to come? The Firstborn of all creation? The One who rides on a white horse and who is Faithful and True? Heck yes, He's my Hero.

And I have other heroes, too: Freddie Mercury (musical-genius legend), Dennis Jernigan (overcomer who just lets it all hang out), and Sarah Palin (all she talks about is politics, which is a subject that I avoid like the plague now, but she's the only woman on my list).

I used to worship heroes. That was a bad thing. A few years ago when God was putting the finishing touches on my freedom from codependence, He showed me that a huge part of my codependence (leeching off other people) was hero worship. So, of course, He had to bend my focus back to Him, so that I could worship Him instead, because He is the Ultimate Hero.

One dangerous thing about being somebody's hero is that people tend to put all kinds of ridiculous expectations on heroes. Then they see how imperfect their heroes are, and it's a bit disappointing. For instance, Freddie Mercury wasn't perfect, because his hedonism led to his ultimate demise. Dennis Jernigan isn't perfect, because, in my opinion, some of his songs are kinda cheesy. Sarah Palin isn't perfect, because have I mentioned that all she talks about is politics -- maybe I should change the subject. Have I told you lately how much I love my cats?

Sometimes when people get too close to their heroes, they see how imperfect they are, and then they take it upon themselves to try to change them. Heh. Good luck with that one. It's a long way to fall from the pedestal. Nobody likes unsolicited criticism on a microscopic level.

For instance, somebody told me one time (after I made a decision that they strongly disapproved of), "I thought you were a strong Christian." So sorry to disappoint you, but kindly redirect your guilt trips elsewhere.

I think Jesus knew what this was like. He went from being everybody's Hero to being everybody's punching bag. When He performed miracles, I think they cheered. When He hung on the cross, I think they jeered.

I hope you don't treat heroes that way, too.

You know who else is my hero? King David.

"I waited patiently for the Lord; and He inclined to me, and heard my cry. He also brought me up out of a horrible pit, out of the miry clay, and set my feet upon a rock, and established my steps. He has put a new song in my mouth -- praise to our God; many will see it and fear, and will trust in the Lord.

...

Be pleased, O Lord, to deliver me; O Lord, make haste to help me!

...

But I am poor and needy; yet the Lord thinks upon me. You are my help and my deliverer; do not delay, O my God." (Psalm 40:1-3, 13, 17)

Usually when people quote Psalm 40, they don't make it past the first three verses. They usually talk about that famous "You pulled me out of the pit" part, and then they stop. Like that's the end of the story.

No way. That's just the beginning.

In this song that starts out so triumphantly, David is this big hero at the beginning. But by the end of the song, he's like a needy little 5-year-old going, "Daddy help me, please! Hurry!" Wow. What happened?

I don't know, and I probably don't need to know. But here's why David is my hero: He isn't perfect. He just clung to the One who is.

When people see testimonies, they don't see the blood, sweat, and tears that went into the victory. (Unless, of course, they walked very closely alongside you while your victory was happening, and they saw you through it.) They just see the polished finished product. They don't see the struggles that await you after they attend your hero-coronation ceremony and they go their merry way.

They don't see you crying out to your Daddy like a needy little 5-year-old when nobody else is around to hold your hand but Him.

I need my Daddy. I'm weak, and He's strong. He's strong enough to carry me. So, I'm going to climb onto His strong back and let Him whisk me away with Him. I need Him. I want Him. If He doesn't come through for me, that's it. I don't have a plan B.

And I'm OK with that.

"If it had not been the Lord who was on our side, when men rose up against us, then they would have swallowed us alive, when their wrath was kindled against us; then the waters would have overwhelmed us, the stream would have gone over our soul..." (Psalm 124:2-4)

OK, so maybe I am a hero. A lot of us are heroes. But let me show you how I see myself.

I'm like those lunatic specialist exterminators who get called out of hiding somewhere in the middle of some movies when the monsters get too big for the main protagonists to destroy. I'm kinda like that wacko from The Muppet Movie who specializes in killing frogs. (That's a myth! Myth! Yeth?)

I'm like those troubled, hiding-out heroes in denial that pop up in movie plots from time to time, kinda like Ted Striker in Airplane! (Surely I've seen that movie. I have, and don't call me Shirley.) He's minding his own business, and then he takes a major detour in which he ends up on a plane, even though he has traumatic experiences related to planes in his past. Then suddenly he ends up being the only person on the plane who can fly it, despite his drinking problem (Sploosh!). So, he has to overcome his issues and save the day. Yep, that's me.

I'm totally like King David, who will sing, sing a new song, how long? to sing this song? in one verse, and then in the next verse, he's a 5-year-old who needs his Daddy.

And I want to be like Jesus.

"And He took with Him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, and He began to be sorrowful and deeply distressed. Then He said to them, 'My soul is exceedingly sorrowful, even to death. Stay here and watch with Me.' He went a little farther and fell on His face, and prayed, saying, 'O My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from Me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as You will.' " (Matthew 26:37-39)

"And being in agony, He prayed more earnestly. Then His sweat became like great drops of blood falling down to the ground." (Luke 22:44)

Heck yes, that's my kind of Hero. Even Jesus was freaking out when He was going through the roughest time of His life. Even Jesus knew He needed His Daddy. Even Jesus, the Ultimate Hero, was deeply in touch with His need, and He knew that God would meet that need for Him.

So, as I said before, a lot of us are heroes. That doesn't mean that we're perfect. That just means that we can point to the One who is.

Motivation

These are my cats. Aren't they adorable? They're awesome. And they're pretty powerful. They're the reason why I sleep with my bedroom door closed at night (so they won't wander around and destroy things in my home while I sleep), why I buy so much carpet cleaner and paper towels (to clean up their occasional vomited messes), why I buy expensive cat litter about every two weeks (so my home won't stink, and because Macho's urinary-formula food works really well), and why I haven't invited people over to my home lately (because I'm kinda behind in cleaning up all that cat hair, and because some people are allergic altogether).

But as powerful as my babies are, they're not powerful enough to motivate me to walk in freedom and purity. That is the honest truth.

"For I am ready to fall, and my sorrow is continually before me. For I will declare my iniquity; I will be in anguish over my sin. But my enemies are vigorous, and they are strong; and those who hate me wrongfully have multiplied. Those also who render evil for good, they are my adversaries, because I follow what is good." (Psalm 38:17-20)

Lately while I've been reading through the Bible, I've been reading/meditating on a psalm per day. Yesterday, I happened to hit Psalm 38.

Heh. "Happened."

Sometimes I read psalms like this one, and I wonder if perhaps the songwriters went through the exact same issues that I've been going through, because they describe how I feel so much better than I could express it. David wrote Psalm 38. I wonder if he did so while he was herding sheep all alone, with nobody to watch his actions but God, with all the freedom in the world to do whatever he wanted, with nobody but God to shield him from the fiercely magnetic, ferociously merciless pull of his iniquity.

Yesterday, my goal was to not sin in a very specific way. I barely, barely, barely hit my goal, but I hit it. I couldn't have done it without God's help.

"The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord, and He delights in his way. Though he fall, he shall not be utterly cast down; for the Lord upholds him with His hand.

...

But the salvation of the righteous is from the Lord; He is their strength in the time of trouble. And the Lord shall help them and deliver them; He shall deliver them from the wicked, and save them, because they trust in Him." (Psalm 37:23-24, 39-40)

I've heard pastors preach about serious issues, and sometimes they'll say something like, "Why do I feel so passionately about this? It's so that my children will grow up in a better world" or "I'll think about my children, and I'll remember why I'm doing what I'm doing." OK, that's wonderful. I think keeping your life pure for the sake of your children is a very noble motivation for you.

But I don't have children to motivate me. And with all due respect, your children certainly aren't going to motivate me to pursue freedom.

The closest thing I have to children are my cats. Yes, they're powerful, but they're not powerful enough to shield me from sin, inspire me to walk in freedom, or be a sober wake-up call to embrace purity. In fact, last spring/summer when I fell into sin, my cats didn't really help at all. They're cats. They just sort of napped or snuggled or ignored me, and all three of us just adapted to one another like we always do. I love my cats extremely much, but they aren't my motivation.

In my previous post, I talked about how my relationship with God is my motivation to pursue freedom. Yes, God is definitely the most powerful Being in the universe. But He's also the most gracious. When you're used to the authoritative relationships in your life punishing or shaming you every time you mess up, you get used to fear being your motivation to perform perfectly. (Of course, when I say "you," I mean "me.") So, when you finally realize that the ultimate Authoritative Relationship in your life doesn't contain an ounce of fear but an endless river of love and grace, you may not know how to handle it. You know He's going to forgive you, so somewhere in the back of your mind is this crazy idea that you can just do whatever the heck you want, because He'll let you. Eventually, you realize that this is a deception, and you doing whatever the heck you want will be very expensive for you later on.

Last year, the final finishing touches on my freedom from depression (although partially motivated by my cats) were jump-started by a righteously selfish motivation: In a nutshell, I wanted to be free, for my sake.

And this time, with my current issues, I think what has motivated me the most to fight for freedom is a purely selfish reason: I want freedom. If I'm going to be rid of these issues, it's going to be up to me. That is the honest truth.

"Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, yes, I will help you, I will uphold you with My righteous right hand." (Isaiah 41:10)

I understand that there are people in my life who love me, care about me, and want to help me. And I appreciate that. But they aren't going to hold my hand every time I get tempted, struggle, or am in trouble. God will. But He is the Perfect Gentleman. He won't force me to behave. Only I can ultimately choose purity for myself.

I am my own motivation.

My motivation to pursue, embrace, and fight for freedom and purity is because I want it. I don't want to sin, because I don't want to deal with the resulting shame afterwards. I don't want to sin, because I don't want to repair the damage that I caused to my relationship with God afterwards. I don't want to sin, because I don't want to explain what happened to the people in my life afterwards. I don't want to sin, because I don't want to attract hell back into my life all over again. I don't want to sin, because I don't want to divide my creative energy to feed my flesh instead of focusing on composing something constructive that I can share with the world later on. I don't want to sin, because I don't want to deal with the physical, emotional, and spiritual cleanup afterwards. I don't want to sin, because I don't want to spend all my time trying to get free from it later.

It's just way too much trouble. That is the honest truth.

I wish it were more spiritual-sounding, but that is what ultimately motivates me to strangle iniquity, run from sin, and tiptoe around stumbling blocks: me.

My motivation for not answering my phone yesterday when a relative called out of nowhere was so that I wouldn't have to hear a "Happy Valentine's Day" pity call.

My motivation for not turning on my computer yesterday was because I didn't want to scroll through my Facebook newsfeed and see everybody's Valentine's Day posts. I don't mean to offend you if you posted anything, because you have the right to post whatever the heck you want on your own page; it's just that when a holiday is established to celebrate romantic relationships, and you don't have one, and everybody around you constantly reminds you of that, it can be a very painful holiday. You think it's about the flowers, gifts, and candy? Forget all that. I can buy all that for myself. It's about me not having a boyfriend, fiancé, or husband. He can keep his stupid Valentine's Day gifts. What I would want is him looking into my eyes, having a conversation with me, and developing a relationship with me.

I know myself. I know what motivates me.

So, yesterday, when I was resisting temptation as hard as I could, I looked up at God and asked Him, "Can we just talk?" Of course we could. And we did. You think the God of the universe doesn't care about the stupid little details of our lives? You can think whatever you want, but God and I talk about anything and everything. He still asks me what I'm thinking, even though He already knows it before I do, because He's my Friend, and friends take the time to build relationships with each other. The most powerful, busiest Being in the universe takes time to talk to me, hang out with me, and enjoy me. He has brought me this far, and He isn't ever going to leave me.

Frankly, that is my motivation for not hurting Him.