This is the word I want to be more of.. And right now, at this time in my life, for whatever reason, I find myself more on the “passion-less” side of things. Mostly, this turns into me ragging on myself and being super self-centered. Not allowing anyone to speak any amount of Truth into my ears. The only things I allow into my ears are the lies Satan tells me, and that my friends.. That ain’t healthy, no matter who you are.
Not that there is anything good about me giving in to the degrading fabrications of the devil, but there is a light at the end of the struggle. There is joy that comes in the morning, although it might not be tomorrow. It might not even be the day after, but joy definitely is coming, and it will be in the morning (Psalm 30:5).
People.. We can have hope that the Lord of our hearts will come save us! (I’m speaking to myself, here)
Something I have really struggled with is looking weak in the presence of others. I don’t like to feel like people are looking down on me, or looking at me with sympathy. For some reason, I just don’t want to have to accept that from people, and in turn, this hurts my self-esteem because I am not letting anyone into my heart. It’s a pride issue, and I have it. It’s something about “keeping face” and not letting down, especially in front of those who are important to me. Even my closest friends, I keep these hurts and whatnot to myself..
I have never really learned how to let people into my life, I guess. Not that I have been super dishonest, but I do tend to keep my trials to myself.. Because I don’t want to appear weak.
As I open my journal, and look back on the words written dating from yesterday all the way back to the 17th of January (this year), the pages are well worn, and colorful. There are doodles. There are words. There are pictures. There are plans. There are scriptures. There are pleas. There are desperations. There are declarations. There are lyrics. There are notes. There is sadness. There is loneliness. There is comfort. There is praise. There is depth. There is growth. It is neat. It is messy. It is sometimes, somewhat illegible. It is crafty and creative.
But most of all.. It is my life, in those pages.
The things I have recorded from my brain, through the tips of my fingers, gripping any sort of writing utensil to quickly try and properly convey the emotions flooding out of my soul. My cries of brokenness and happiness are all withheld between two sturdy pieces of whatever it is, that is the covers.. The open, true honesty, honestly is hard to read sometimes.
To see where I have come, that gives me hope.
God made me a fighter, and that I will always be. I will fight for my heart. I will fight for my faith. I will fight for my happiness and my joy. He made me, me. And that needs to start being enough for me, because it is enough for Him.
Let’s start this.