Did you know I try to make my handwriting smaller and sometimes leave our whole sentences, just so I can save space to save paper. No, no one knows that, except the Lord. I've always been irritated by how obssessed girls are with their weight and hair and looks and whatnot. Although, that is pretty hypocritical of me.
I call myself fat, my 147 pound body, to me is fat. I don't think I'm pretty, my black, curly, frizzy hair with light brown tips, my dark brown eyes, my olive complexion, to me is decent. I think I'm too short, my 5ft. 2in., to me is like being a midget. Considering this, I'm pretty hypocritical and I hate it.
Call me a fanatic, weirdo, wack job, religious(I HATE THAT WORD!), or a phsyco, but what I do when my "looks" get to me is pray. Besides writing, reading, and listening to music, it's my only escape. I lose myself in those things. With reading I become that person, I experience what they experience, cry when they cry, laugh when they laugh.
Writing I imagine a new world, new family, new friends, and a new me; always, though, always the same God. Music I get immersed in the poetry of songs, the beat of instruments, the energy I perceive from it. Now, prayer is a different thing entirely. I give all my doubts and worries, all my fears and hate to God.
When something's wrong I ask God to help; I tell Him what's wrong. Then I say, "I give it to you, God. To do with it what you will". Today wasn't very eventful, although I straightened my hair and got a lot of compliments on it. :) Which, of course, made me feel good.
Have you noticed that we can't have bibles in school?(I'm in America) State and church law thing, so they say. Why should it matter what I read at school? It doesn't really make sense to me, but whatever. I felt guilty today, because I said some things and did some things that I knew God didn't want me to do.
"God help me. I am so sorry that I failed you today. I know I'm not perfect and Im not going to be, but I still feel guilty when I mess up. Heeavenly Father please lead me. I feel like crying. I really want to live for you. Please, help me!
In your name, Jesus, Amen."
Yes, that was a prayer. I really needed to. After I pray, everytime, I feel a weight lifted off my shoulders, a burden washed out of my heart. It always comes back, but that's when I know I need to pray again.
This is my life,
P.S. I tried, I failed. You
didn't have to try, you had
already succeeded. Now,
Jesus, you still love me even
though you don't have to.
You just want to.