Mine is the last letter.
The past couple days have been good for me in terms of affirming that I can be a rock during crisis situations. They have also, unfortunately, made my people-pleasing tendencies rear their ugly heads. It’s making my angst (that I thought was put on hold) a whole lot worse and it’s causing me to doubt that people actually think that I’m a sane person because I had an experience tonight where I attempted to catch someone’s attention to ask them two questions that just completely backfired. (It left me with hives on my legs, a tight chest from my grass allergy, itchy eyes, and a desire to pull the covers over my head and hide from the world while repeating to myself that I am a moron and this other person [and those around them] must think I’m a complete idiot. If you want details, email me.)
I know that people-pleasing is a form of idolatry because the only opinion I should care about is the one of the God who created, sustains, and guides me. His opinion of me is that I am a beautiful daughter of His who He chose to redeem by sending His Son to die on the Cross in my place. With a Heavenly Father who thinks that much of me, I should ideally not care what others think about me, right? I wish…
I have spent the last few months in agony because people have been angry with me and not told me and I’ve had to walk on eggshells every time I’ve gone to one of Jon’s churches because it always seems like someone is constantly angry with me over something I had no idea that I had done. It has unfortunately translated into my personal life and is making some of my personal relationships really fractious.
*sighs* Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa. Agnus Dei qui tollis pecatta mundi, miserere me.
Let’s see… the frames of my glasses snapped, so I have to go see the local optometrist tomorrow. Jon and I also had a fight and it’s hotter than hell here, thus I’m dehydrated and crabby.
Let’s also just not talk about the scratches on my arms, OK?
While I’m recovering well, I am dealing with some depression. Basically, all the energy is going to heal the incisions on my stomach and not to maintaining my sanity. I’ve had a crappy 24 hours and I’m honestly feeling like the wet kitten in the “Don’t Tell Me What Kind of Day To Have!!!!!” posters.
Could y’all lift some prayers for me?