I went past the field of a sluggard, past the vineyard of someone who has no sense; thorns had come up everywhere, the ground was covered with weeds, and the stone wall was in ruins.
I applied my heart to what I observed and learned a lesson from what I saw: A little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to rest, and poverty will come on you like a thief and scarcity like an armed man.
This weight loss journey has thus far been a major exploratory experience. I'm learning so much about my new self: my aging, my desires, etc.
One thing I know for sure: absolutely not to raw kale!
I never, ever, talk about this. I'm not sure why.
I survived an attempt on my life. It was severly traumatic, and while I thank and praise GOD for bringing me through, I don't discuss it; and I think I may need to repent for that. I'm sure that my testimony will help somebody, but I've always felt my circumstance was so common, and there were so many others who so much more prolifically expressed their victory. I bear very obvious scars that exude how I fought for my life. They're beauty marks to me now which is why I've not had them corrected. But they were not for show, nor to prove any kind of point. They were a personal conversation between me and the Father. They reminded me of how great He is, and how He didn't have to bring me out of that room that night.... but He did. I know the enemy was very close to victory, but GOD came to my rescue. I often wonder why He let me suffer that. As I mature, I get glimpses of His plan, and then there are times when I'm utterly confused.
Many years ago, I dated a man who was troubled. My love and loyalty kept me by his side far longer than I should (a very common tale... all the typical "signs" were evident). I'd finally determined that our relationship was beyond my tolerance and I determined to leave the relationship.
On a 4th of July weekend, this man I once cared so much for broke into my home, hid firearms, and waited for me to return. I had been in up state New York for the weekend and arrived back in Manhattan on Sunday night at which time my ex-boyfriend tried to kill me. Because he didn't expect me to fight back, he became irately inhuman. He tried to throw me from my 14th floor window. He severed my ear lobe. He stabbed, beat and bit me; but I survived. The Lord used a young passerby who heard my screams and got the help I needed.
Why am I writing this now, today. I don't know why. Perhaps because there has been so much death and violence these past few months. So much pain and sorrow in the atmosphere. I don't know.
In my spirit, I sense and know there is sooooo much work to do; and I need to work while it's day, for the night is coming when no man can work. The Holy Spirit won't leave me be.
“Learn the rules like a pro, so you can break them like an artist.”