Prayers, Pleas, and Ponderings

Lord –

We are not alone in this world. Thank you for reminding me that it’s not only me who struggles with inadequacy, confusion, being scattered, unsettled, and feeling “off” in general. Thank you for brothers and sisters to be honest with and be able to say “hey, I don’t feel okay”; being not okay is okay because it’s okay to not be okay. There are moments in life where we feel weak. Lord, my dear little brother and friend JJ and I are not okay. Because of his transparency, it led me to get on my proverbial knees to you, because we need you desperately. Life is hard at this moment. These moments are hard. Personally, I’m tired of being distracted and looking forward to getting off bumble. It’s hard to regulate my emotions with new people who are clearly interested in not just being my friend. Though, to be fair, I have enough friends, but it takes energy away from those who are already in my life. Help me to seek you and to seek you in these type of friendships. It easily overwhelms me. Romantic relationship overwhelms me. Lord – I need your protection, guidance, and just love for me to over shadow the love from others. Like, thank you that I can be safe in you. That in you there’s refuge and strength. Also forgive me for giving my time, attention, and affection to things that aren’t worth it. ‘cause clearly having to fight scenarios in my mind in wanting to engage in activities I clearly can’t and won’t do ‘cause I’m not married is a thing. Man, Lord, I need to write/journal/pray to you heavy ‘cause there’s SOOO much going on in my mind and heart that it clouds me and makes me feel “off”. Lord, thank you for prayer and for Josh for bringing me again to my knees to you. Lord, we need you!!!

Grateful for a dad who loves me well though is learning what it means to love me in this particular season. Like, being more honest and forthcoming on what…

Like, dad: have you ever considered asking me what makes me feel better instead of doing something in the name of wanting to make me feel better yet actually not seeking to figure it out or ask me? Like, the statements to always ask about my mother or to see what’s good with my mother or if my mother is involved does nothing for me: absolutely nothing. I know that it does your heart good to know that we’re in a better place and that I’m getting in a better place of acceptance… but guess what? Maybe I just want a place to vent and to have my venting acknowledged and not unknowingly dismissed under the claims of “making me feel better”. It doesn’t make me feel better when my mother is given the benefit of the doubt when she’s CONTINUALLY shown her ass since the very beginning. Let. Me. Be. And Vent. You’re the MAIN person I talk to about her since you (and Bill) are the main two who get it and it won’t get out to her since I have to deal with ME and MY emotions. Also, if you’re curious about my mom, why not call her and ask? Have your own relationship with her and not through me. Ironically, you’re doing the same thing you accused her of doing when I was growing up. Ya’ll are adults. Outside of “how is your mother doing?” I don’t care to respond to it. Actually, I fucking don’t want to. ‘Cause it seems sometimes that you care more about my relationship with my mother than actually caring about me period. Yes, her relationship is a part of me, but it’s not me. And outside of my random vents, I tend to not talk about her often.

I was afraid today... actually this morning. Woke up with nerves of what to do, what needed to be done, and the perplexity of how and when to get it done. 

Walked towards the kitchen with the Word clutched to my chest, notepad, pen, and cell phone. Sat down at the kitchen counter. Fear still there. Took a deep breath and looked down. Down to the things once clutched to my chest. 

Sighed. 

A gentle reminder came in the quiet: be faithful to Me. Not the to-do list. Not to the little things, the big things, the thing things. Just be faithful to me. A sigh escaped me. 

Much to do. Time is fixed. Prioritize. 

Find ways to incorporate personal in the service: pick up that milk tea on the way to that meeting; grab a $2 Dunkin’ Donuts any size iced coffee on the way to that event; gather your bearings via listening to a fun podcast on that long commute to wherever/whatever you’re going... 

Slowly finding ways to include “me” in the things I do... still learning and defining what my priorities are, and looking for means to not lose me to the things outside me. It’s hard; yet manageable. 

Much on my mind this evening... this weekend has been full in ways I did not imagine (in very good ways). 

Thankful for impromptu opportunities that turn out to be a full day of fun and adventure with people I love and care about. Thankful that I’m starting to get over my body insecurity with my arms - I’m actually wearing my arms out and I don’t look look “fat” (whatever that means). Honestly, I’m bigger than what I was yet becoming more comfortable with who/what I’m becoming. I desire to be healthy both inside and out. Excited about that. 

The weekend was full with great people, great laughs, great conversations, and great experiences best experienced in person. So thankful to the Lord for it. 

Yet this Sunday evening after a glorious post-church meal and following nap, I was bombarded with “bonding” time that I don’t personally considering bonding. How is it that someone comes into your space, says it’s time to “bond”, and then speaks of “we” when “we” just means you, not me? Isn’t bonding mutual? 

Then to say what “we” are and are not doing... when really you came into my space, claiming where I’m laying, demanding the remote because “we” are not watching what I’m currently watching, and say it’s time to “bond”? That’s mad awkward... very awkward. 

Praise be for boundaries, for being able to at least finish what I was previously watching, and having somewhat of a say of what to watch next. The bottle of wine in the fridge was confused to be hers when I bought that for me. I let her know that no, I bought that bottle for me, placed it on her side since it has the tallest compartment to fit said wine, and that she’s open to having some if she wishes... but that wine is mine. 

Don’t care for folks to call something bonding that’s not mutual. The time earlier with my friends was definitely bonding time, yet it didn’t have to be said. It just was. We simply enjoyed each other and the shared experience. It wasn’t something that had to be announced. We just bonded. 

Today was a day... been relatively productive yet writing these reports have been harder today, for some reason. Honestly, functioning throughout the day not tired has been hard today, for some reason. 

My plea is to get it done. Right now my “it” is to get one more hour of report writing with this particular case I don’t want to write. I need to write, but I don’t because it’s heavy and my feelings and it’s hard and it’s just... no. 

So my no was to take my behind to a different place to write; the drudgery of the office was not helping. Had to get out. So my plea is with me: commit to this one hour... it’s just. one. hour. to. write. this. report. .so. you. can. live. yo’. life. 

I’ve been told that I’m a writer. Sure. Thanks. 

Does writing in your journal count? Because that has been the bulk of most of my personal pursuits. Otherwise, it’s a school assignment that I make my own. Yet many of the quips in my mind appear to be appreciated. 

So my #prayer is that this space is whatever it needs to be for me, for you, and God’s glory. I’m a Christian first, everything else after. Including a writer.