Tuesday was hard. Not awful, and not bad as a whole, but it had a big sopping hole in the middle. I was pretty worn out at the end of errands and shopping, and then Mom reminded me we should call and visit folks. I was so upset. I felt like I had to say yes, but I was topped off. Spilling over, and the water wasn't sweet. Dear Amy Carmichael had that illustration right.
We went over, but I felt like someone going insane and trying to hold it together. I've realized they make me feel little. Coddled and annoyed, and guilty because I'm supposed to be grateful. So I feel bestial. I wanted to scream, roar, destroy something, tear something up, run away, die in the quiet dirt. Sometimes I think about how E would bang on the table if his food was too hot or he bit his tongue. I've felt like doing that so many times. I'm afraid of what would happen if I started.
Dad recently told me there are no longer any "rules" for me in this house, I'm just aware of preferences. It still feels like rules to me. It's almost worse. If I don't hear otherwise, preferences demand filial obedience from the Almighty. I'd like to keep the conversation open, so that deviation from preferences isn't voluntary sin. It doesn't matter, though. I will always be rebellious. I will always have a choice. I need to learn boundaries, and let things fall where they may sometimes.
"Giddy with godhead or with nonexistence". That happy Richard Wilbur phrase just cropped up in my head. I want to write more music. Good music, that I actually like. I think it will mean including friends, and taking time with it. And practice. This morning's Proverb reminds me that the king's heart is in the hands of the Lord. Every man's heart. My man's. Every man who isn't mine and never shall be. T___p's. Not my man. Father God, please direct me. Thank You for making me feel alright, not squished, when I feel little with You.
We went over, but I felt like someone going insane and trying to hold it together. I've realized they make me feel little. Coddled and annoyed, and guilty because I'm supposed to be grateful. So I feel bestial. I wanted to scream, roar, destroy something, tear something up, run away, die in the quiet dirt. Sometimes I think about how E would bang on the table if his food was too hot or he bit his tongue. I've felt like doing that so many times. I'm afraid of what would happen if I started.
Dad recently told me there are no longer any "rules" for me in this house, I'm just aware of preferences. It still feels like rules to me. It's almost worse. If I don't hear otherwise, preferences demand filial obedience from the Almighty. I'd like to keep the conversation open, so that deviation from preferences isn't voluntary sin. It doesn't matter, though. I will always be rebellious. I will always have a choice. I need to learn boundaries, and let things fall where they may sometimes.
"Giddy with godhead or with nonexistence". That happy Richard Wilbur phrase just cropped up in my head. I want to write more music. Good music, that I actually like. I think it will mean including friends, and taking time with it. And practice. This morning's Proverb reminds me that the king's heart is in the hands of the Lord. Every man's heart. My man's. Every man who isn't mine and never shall be. T___p's. Not my man. Father God, please direct me. Thank You for making me feel alright, not squished, when I feel little with You.
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