Bereanista

Why is it, God, that I can't read Your word anymore- Or rather, why is it that the normal routines Of reading a chapter or two in the morning wont do anymore? It seems that even I am no longer fooled. I want... something more, God. I want You; Not the glimpses and the occasional nod, I want fellowship. I'm sick and tired of the routines, the rituals. I want relationship. And I know it's all been hinging on my getting to this point When I break away from the chains of the mundane and dare to ask For more: So now I do. I wont be distracted by daily life, by worries or cares, By lies that this is all I can get; Or the truth that this is more than I deserve. I want more. Please, Daddy, give me more of You. No, I'm not deserving; No I've not earned it; No, I've not reaped a whole lot out of what You've already given; Yet I want more. Because I trust that this is by Your grace and not by my works. I don't need to 'grow' up any ...

Why, God, do we as humans love sin so much? Why is it that it comes more easily than holiness? Why is it that we are not intrinsically good; and rather have to make an effort to get into sin? Why couldn't it be that way? I know what You require of me, God, but why is it that Your will almost always requires some sacrifice- some great concession on my part? Why should it be so? I'm so tired of loving sin, God. So fed up with choosing that which kills me on the inside and lowers my spirit. I'm fed up with the world and its 'charms'. They are so empty and shallow. I just want to be free. Everywhere I turn, I see sin; not just sin on its own terms, but the world applauding it, lauding it, heralding and hailing it: corruption, murder, transgenderism, homosexuality, public nudity, lasciviousness, viciousness. How can we not see that we are dying? How can we not see how we are becoming less than human by fighting so hard against all that we were made to be? I look ar...

So in the last few days since I declared 'No Anger Month' for myself, I've definitely had fewer (fewer, not zero) instances of getting riled up. Chalk it up to a conscious effort + actually letting the Still Small Voice get through.  Another observation is, even when I do get angry, I let it go soon after; not stewing in it and thinking about it and getting mad all over again like I... used to (???). I guess the key is this: "The godly may trip seven times, but they will get up again. But one disaster is enough to overthrow the wicked". Proverbs 24:16 (NLT). I've got to keep at it. This sinful nature is stitched into my genes and has been over 27 years festering and spreading. It's going to take more than a month to change; and I'm ready. If peacefulness is character, I'm building it block by block If graciousness is habit, I'm growing it day by day If a temperate nature is virtue, God help me do the work And I'll take on Your ...

All my life, I've 'had a temper' and I've known it. In childhood, I discovered a raw power that came from people being afraid of my anger- of what I would do, and especially of what I would say. Fury was like a drug that would give me a recklessness to say things my normally timid self wouldn't- and by some rule somewhere, it was okay to say whatever- because I had been angered. When I was younger, my anger would get some results- especially out of my siblings and classmates; or at least people would pay attention to what I had to say when I was fuming and used cutting words and sarcasm. Now I'm much older, and the old magic doesn't work the same way; thank God. Thank God for giving me so many situations over the past month in which anger yielded no results at all. No matter how much I threatened and railed, the noisy church next door didn't turn down the sound; and no matter how much I fumed, the telco did not return to my modem the data that had m...

So in the last six or so months, I had been gaining weight. Now, if you have known me since childhood, your eyebrows would be understandably elevated. I have always been one of those skinny girls who eats whatever, whenever; one of those skinny girls forever standing before her mirror holding up and pushing up assorted body parts, imagining what she would look like when she finally grew some curves. I always thought weight gain would bring me some contentment- if I got a little more busty, or a little more hippy, I was sure I would finally be happy with my body. Sidebar: When I was growing up, they had not yet invented the thigh gap. Smh. When I got the chance to study abroad, I knew this would be my body breakthrough. No one lives in the UK for a year and comes back skinny, right? So, thrilled was I when finally, I could not wear size 10 trousers without a struggle; and thrilled I stayed when my shirts stretched out a little tighter upfront. I was still blissfully eating what...