Blanket Jealousy Crosses My Mind.

Sometimes I try to rotate which blankets I cuddle with so that the others don’t feel bad about themselves.

I know it's not real-- so why do I worry so?

*Two more bombs explode on my head* Ow! >.<

So. Monday our house was broken into. Kicked the back door in…frame and all. Weirdest thing is that the mystery thief left all our valuables right as they were and kidnapped only my father’s shotgun. They only showed signs of being in my sister’s room and my parents’ room. (I suppose my room was so messy they figured someone else had gotten to it first and didn’t bother.) Needless to say none of us feel quite the same in our own home anymore…even though this has happened once before in 1991-ish. And the parents are very tense. My dad is quite emotional about losing his father’s gun.

Next day. I don’t want to go into detail, but on Tuesday I lost a very important relationship that has been dearer to me than most for about 5 years now. The way I feel about that right now really makes me want to avoid hell when I die because if losing an earthly significant other is this painful, then losing God for eternity strikes a fear in me that makes every cell in my body awaken and shiver.

And tomorrow I go to court about the accident. Yep. Just smarting a little this evening that’s all.

I really do hope her head isn’t messed up.

So I’m driving to my favorite restaurant Monday morning, and I’m about to roll through the yield sign to get onto HWY 78. I looked behind me for a second or two to estimate the traffic into which I was about to merge (I just hate pulling onto a 60-70 mph highway going 0), when I suddenly turned around and quickly realized the people in front of me had come to a complete stop. Much to my horror, I was unable to stop before I bumped the back of a white minivan.

Feeling myself beginning to hyperventilate, I got out of the car and asked the passengers if they were okay. (In other words, I wanted to find out if they wanted to call the cops since I saw almost no damage to either car.) It was in that moment that a very angry lady came toward me, informing me that not only was she most certainly not okay, but also that I had ffff—[fouled] up her head. Her husband got out and also began to hurl profanities my way. Not only did they call the police, but also the EMS, as she insisted on being carried to the hospital in an ambulance. I was blown away at the way this couple reacted. The only damage to either vehicle was a tennis ball-sized dent on the left side of their bumper…and then my grill popped off.

My mom rushed to be with me since I was by now in complete panic. We made sure there were pictures of the vehicle damage (or lack thereof). So now I have a court date next Thursday at 2:00. *Sigh*

It’s not that I don’t think this careless mistake is my fault; it’s just that these people are choosing to make it so hard for me. They’ve gotten a lawyer and will probably try to sue me now. Other people have done the very same thing to my parents on more than one occasion, and they have graciously let the person go.

I’ve told my friends several times this week that I am learning some very hard lessons about people this summer. Especially miserable ones. My spirit wants the powerful force that love is to transform their tense, hateful spirits into soft, gentle, joyful ones. But my flesh only wants protection from mean people and to love only the people that will not hurt me. Someone’s got to keep loving, though. Some people have just got to suck it up and be conductors of love so that people have hope– a chance to be transformed.

I just hope I never become too afraid to keep trying to be one of those people.

Satan’s Twisted Retaliation to Life

It makes me sick when I am reminded that Satan has tricked the human race into releasing death into this world. It makes me want to vomit.

What if I don’t like it?

Support Raising. It means that people who want to be pastors and missionaries and other ministry persons cannot earn their money on their own. They must seek financial support from the community so that others can have a part of the mission. And so we get so stressed out that it builds more character and coping alternatives. *Sigh* You know what? I was raised in the south to a family with a work ethic that would put John Smith to shame. Asking people for money instead of making it myself is torture. It is! It’s torture. Don’t get me wrong. Every time I’ve met with someone one-on-one to share testimonies and the nature of my mission field God’s made me so passionate about, I get really encouraged and excited to share. It’s just…the letters and the phone calls. I think I have phonophobia. What really trips me out is that this thing that I’m doing this summer…this daily trying to get a hold of people on the phone and thinking too much about what they might be thinking…we’re lookin at the rest of my life here. And loans! I have loans!!! Debt is…what is that??? I will soon know very well. >.<

I’m scared the stress of support raising will outweigh the joys of reaching out to students. Hm. That sounds pretty irrational, right? I’m always, always scared God’s gonna give me a life I hate. That’s been, like, my #1 struggle in life, actually. That’s just silly now that I see it on the monitor screen. Or is it?

PS: I start Apple bees on Tuesday!! I bought my black nonskid shoes today. Last size 5 1/2 in all the world I believe.