After six pairs of destroyed earrings, I have finally learned to take my earrings off BEFORE letting Penny sit on my shoulders. She can do more damage in ten seconds than Kawi can in a month, little Miss Jaws of Steel. Fortunately she's not a biter. Griffy, C's brother's Conure is capable of turning a shirt into Swiss cheese throughout the duration of a football game. Kawi is more like a cuticle lancet. If you are diabetic, you would never need a lancet again.
Speaking of skin piercing, last night I dreamed that despite attempts to cover myself, I kept getting bit by mosquitoes. I know exactly where the dream came from. It was deeply rooted in the source of my much disturbed sleep. I tried to rationalize my antisocial exhausted self into thinking that sleeping all day may be a better option than going to church, but that would be like unto fasting after forty days and nights without food in the wilderness. I wasn't sure what to expect, but due to the interventions of a close friend and a single phrase in a hymnbook, I was able to justify dragging my unmotivated self there.
I have come to the conclusion that I am a winner. If there was an Olympic metal offered for having one's intentions called into question, I would hands-down be the world champion. Oddly enough, it always seems to be those instances where I am trying to help. After much grief over the ease of others to doubt or question the things I say or do, I am beginning down the path of peace.
It started with these words: 'Tis not in man they put their trust, nor on his arm rely.
Suddenly it clicked. I had been angry, frustrated, and saddened by the fact that I was being called into question when I knew that the Lord knew that my intentions were pure. Suddenly I was free to say, "It's my own fault! I can't be angry at anyone but myself, because I put my trust in the arm of flesh rather than the arm of God." I know better. I have read that phrase a hundred times and committed it to memory, and yet here I am, letting these pesky mosquitoes disturb my inner peace.
Man, whose breath is in his nostrils cannot see into my heart. My part is not to grieve over their interpretations of me, but to turn to God and hold fast to his teachings. Shame on me for faltering. I own my relationship with God and with man, and I determine which one of those relationships weighs heavier. Somehow lately I have put man in the driver's seat. I don't know how it happened, but it was a serious mistake. Here's to course corrections and mosquito netting. Where is that Deet, anyway?
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