*This was written Nov. 2008. I found it in some files on my computer. I was compelled to reintroduce it. I find intrigue in visiting old writings, in seeing where my heart was on that day, in that season, and in seeing how, if, and where I have traveled since. Yet for now, here is a glimpse of inklings past.


Failure. Non-fulfillment, disappointment, insufficiency. 
None of the thesaurus suggestions for this word were descriptions of positive entities. It isn’t a lovely word. 
I have this….addiction. 
More than one person in my life has acknowledged this. I would say “brought it to my attention”, but I already knew its existence. I have a compulsion, a requirement (stronger than a need), to be sufficient. To be — an accomplishment. To not — fail others. To not disappoint. 
If you’ve ever been on the end of my incessant apologizing runs, you’ve seen an effect of this cause. Or if you’ve seen me spend insane amounts of time or stress, on something trivial: like cooking, or straightening up for company, or scrutiny of a tackled project (plus any number of other things that can be clumped here), these too are examples. 
New people I meet, probably go through a period of time seeing me through “zoo glass”. You know, as in where you go to the zoo, and your separated by the 20 inch plexy-glass or 50 feet of space and a really tall gate from the unpredictable wild animal, who at any moment, may charge or lash out…you just never know? So you have a sense of knowledge when at any moment, you may have to run away, just in case the barrier separating you from the beast isn’t strong enough to protect you from the crazy? I may be stretching the metaphor, but do you understand my point?
Everyone has their neurosis, I know. A big one for me, just happens to be a monumental need to please others. I’m discovering the depths of this. Or, shall I say (because I am already quite familiar with it), I’m discovering deeper layers. One of the symptoms of this, has been arising vehemently, in more and more crevices of my life. 
It’s forgiveness. I hope, and think, that I have a good amount to give others in my life. My sister may have been an exception in the past. Through the Lord’s grace, we’ve both moved through much of the grime that separated the possibility of our closeness. Still, other than that exception, when someone missteps, makes a wrong decision, I don’t find it difficult to let it pass. Of course, hurts have levels, and I am NOT a perfect person, but it’s just that….people make mistakes. It is unavoidable. However, it is implausible for me to forgive myself any grievance, large or small. If I make the most microscopic of miscalculations, there is severe internal consequence. 
It is time to admit my addiction. I have unrelenting self-abasement, which escalates when I do something wrong. As little as forget an important detail, being late, misplacing something that isn’t mine…or as huge as hurting another person (it’s worse when it’s unintentional). I cannot tell you why. I can only unfold the truth. 
My gut wrenches at admitting this weakness. I am not even sure as to why I am. Work, believe it or not, has drudged this up again, these thoughts of how I operate. I’m told to be more vulnerable. That is a tremendous task. 26 years of habit, isn’t easily undone. And I have many habits. 
I’m on the verge of falling back in love. I do know, in my heart, that I was very much in love. But my heart has wandered. My distractions have overtaken my senses. My Creator has perpetually been placed in the back seat. Another habit. But I am seeing Him. Slowly. In beautiful pieces. I know He is responsible for my eyes unclouding. I am being wooed. I have always wanted to be, and I never fully realized how magnificently I have been, every day of my life, and until the day this earth can no longer hold claim to me. 
I know it may seem I shifted gears, yet my indiscretions are easier to approach, because I have (though it is still so small in amount) hope. Hope that my weaknesses can be overcome. The barriers that keep me from letting others know me, see me, or even accept me as a sister, are large and numerous. But the wall is not permanent. I do not ever truly believe I could admit that to myself before, or believe it: that it is temporary. Temporary. It is indescribable. 
    I am a stubborn daughter. I try to accomplish everything on myself. The blame is unfailingly on me. I am my own prison guard. It is not unfamiliar territory. I pray…….I pray, that this time, I can allow my chains to fall down. My hands to unravel from my neck, and to let my Father lead me out of the dungeon. Oh how He wants to. I think I understand that a little more, with each day I listen more to His promises. His letter of love. I am endlessly thankful that He brought me to this church in my new home. He is USING his gathering to reach me. He is showing me what love is. He is reminding me of His sacrifice, the very author of love. All the way…
My body is weary. I am running, so busily. It causes me introspection at late hours. Forgive this rant (see, I’m still doing it). 🙂 I hope I never let myself be so clouded by lies again, that I forget the romance of my pursuit…of my pursuer. This is such an ardent, intense battle…life and sin and forgiveness. How humble is the Father’s love. With a strength like no other.

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