powerlessness

Sunday, February 13, 2011 (7:53 a.m.)

Loving Lord,

I love You.

Monday, February 14, 2011 (9:03 a.m.)

That’s as far as I could get yesterday. Pure. Simple. Stuck. Lord, I have to confess to You that I am struggling. Physically. Emotionally. And I truly don’t know what to do.

I thought for sure I was going to come and talk with You about love. Your love for us. Ours for You. One to another. But no. I’m here with James 1. Reading about difficulties being good for us (vs.2-4). And making sure that we really expect You to tell us when we ask You what You want us to do (5-8).

I feel like a failure Lord. “Unsettled as a wave of the sea that is driven and tossed by the wind” (6). ARGH! Lord! 'Every decision I’ve made recently truly has been uncertain, as I turn first this way and then that' (7).

So. Lord. Just what would You have me do? Where do I fit in with my own life? How do I get passed the self-doubts and looking to others for permission and validation? It’s been over a week. I thought I had a clear direction from You. I expected it to be met with great acceptance and encouragement. When it wasn’t, I warily proceeded.

Cautiously. Guarding myself against opposition that I was sure would tell me I was wrong. Without intending it, the court of public opinion became a factor. And once again I am stalled. Caving. Unsure whether to continue on or to quit.

It’s a pattern of my life, Lord. I am truly confessing powerlessness to You Dearest Lord. I began doubting myself last week and now I’m practically drowning in the self-doubt.

Put my eyes back on You Dearest Lord.

(1:45 p.m.)

I took some more time away from here. Read again about Peter taking his eyes off You and looking at the high waves (Matthew 14:30). Lord, I keep doing that. This life with You is constant. Eternal. NOT for just one particular set of circumstances or situations. ‘It’s a marathon, not a sprint.’ And right at this very moment, I am not up to the task.

Once again I am confessing powerlessness. I am working through the twelve steps of recovery and in humbly asking You to remove my shortcomings, I am having to take a good, hard look at them. I am used to ignoring them Lord. Overlooking them. Working on other things in order to avoid them. Staying the course and working to identify my own issues is taxing. Daunting. Uncomfortable. But ultimately freeing.

Thank You Lord for the husband with whom I can share my innermost hurts and fears. Thank You for the relationship You are building between us that enables me to trust and be not afraid. Thank You for honesty, openness and willingness.

Give me the courage that Peter had to get out of the boat and to take that very first step. Keep my focus on You Dear Lord, NOT on the doubts and fears that so readily take me captive and keep me paralyzed.

I love You, Lord. It’s all I could think to say yesterday. Thank You that that is a truth that never changes. Like You! Constant. Eternal. Amen.

(548 words ~ 2:04 p.m.)