The Social Strangle

Now, don’t get me wrong, I had a great weekend but it made it apparent that I needed more weekends like that if I was to become healthy. I socialised twice this weekend; on Saturday evening, I went to The Upper Room Anniversary with X:o:dus and performed plus enjoyed the show; on Sunday, I went for pizza and then on to the Logos boat with three families who I am growing closer to and trusting more, loving more..they’re great people ..really.

The only problem with all of this is that I then have to go home and I experience a terrible low, it’s not a sadness that the evening or night is over. It’s because I know that it helped and I have to do more of it to grow, when I’d much rather just stay right here at the computer or in bed with a book, not risking interaction.

Aside from all that, I fear my self, I fear that the thorns, weeds and brambles still poking out from my life will tell on me as they often do. All I want is to show evidence of the spirit that lives in me, a spirit of the eternal triune God, son (Yesus da Christ) and spirit…but so much of my old ways are still left…and it’s so tiring..seeing so much growth on the one hand but seeing so much still left to be mulched and weeded and stimulated by the life giving waters of healthy relationships. Interactions, so important…but to me it often just feels like socialisation is a strangulation…

and

it makes me tired…so tired..

“Father, I’m so tired of telling you about the same issue…my heightened sexual awareness and it’s relationship to my sexuality..I am tired Lord of doses of you that quench my thirst but the stench is not immersed in your grace…tired of the morsels that remain and confusion in the midst…the doubt that I’ll ever be a woman, whole and free..that I’ll be totally you and untethered from me….my prayer is that I place my heart so deep inside yours that my indulgences are pungently repelled by their own efforts…Daddy, cover my heart in a shroud deep enough that I do not attract the wrong spirit…but if I do it is to help them and not to satisfy this intricate unhealed scar that seems to tear wider with every stitch that you softly sew…and though your promises speak of freedom, when will victory be complete? …don’t let my sad songs overcome me..because I am tired…and sorry for everyone who is possibly led astray because of my loud indecency…”

Oh Lord, help me..I’m tired…

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