An event took place in my day today that I hate. This situation has happened more than I would like to admit. One minute I'm fine, then as soon as the data enters my brain I am no longer fine and my heart begins beating twice as fast as the speed of sound. I hate it. Hate is a strong word but it is not strong enough. I wanted to cry. Correction, I did cry. The most pathetic of all noises came from my mouth. I can not describe this noise as a sound. I can only describe when I have heard it before. This noise can be heard when you demand that a three year old girl stop crying. If obedient, she will give full effort to silence herself. She will have little success and the product of her attempt will be a replica of my response.
It is my hearts desire to be walking on a path with God that I have never walked before. Today's event was like walking in on a trail only to see that I have made it to the same old tree that I have stopped at dozens of time. Then I began to remember the Isrealites. They walked in the desert for 40 years. I can tell you I don't want to be here 30 more years. I didn't know how to guide myself off of this path so I hit my knees and asked God to show me how to get off of the current trail and onto the path to the promised land. As I did this the same old thoughts were bringing their supplies for the grand pity parties that they are accousomed to hosting. Instead of welcoming them I began reflecting on the promises I made to God ten years ago. Ten years I would have had more hope in my Heavenly Father's plans for my life. I would have trusted that He knows what He is doing with me. God is not any less holy, honorable, kind, forgiving, or loving than He was ten years ago so today I refuse to respond to Him as anything less than the Highest regard.
I'm sure that the usual attendants of the Shala Peeples Pity Party were surprised at my reaction. Quite frankly, I was too but a lady's got to do what a lady's do.