Those long thoughts in the morning

As much as I want to go back to sleep the mind is too focused on what needs to get finished. At least the idea of what needs to get finished.

I am almost ready for the day to be over so I can get back home. There is no peace inside of me. No sense of calm. It is just how it has to be. There is so much unfinished business that I can not really concentrate on the the enjoyment of this trip.

I mean today is more a relaxed day but parts of me says why? I really cannot settle down in to believing that all is peachy in an away trip. I thought I could psych myself up to believe but I am fooling only me.

Yes I have forgiven myself because Jehovah has. Yet some parts of me need to be scorched so I can actually believe I have fully forgiven myself. I am not above Jehovah. It is just that I am my worst critic. Jehovah is kind and loving. Me, well I am berating and punishing.

I suppose that is a good thing.

So here I sit trying to force myself to drink some water. Just so I can make sure I am capable of all the exercises I intend on doing.

There is hope that in parts of the day I do enjoy the moment. Be it with the walks in nature or the standing in the wind. I am going to try but every fiber of me wants to be back home to start all processes. To hear what I gain to heal my spirit.

Here I sit with my bible, reading my favorite verse Isaiah 64:8 kindly reminding myself that I am so imperfect. I have so many bits of air and debris inside of me and YET Jehovah still keeps refining me. How, then, can I not be happy for his love, discipline and molding? I am. I am. Though I can't see how I could be helpful to him. I am such a screwed up child.

Nothing that I have done good outweighs all the bad I have done and YET Jehovah still chooses me. This puzzles me to no end. Maybe somewhere deep in my heart, in a tiny box, Jehovah sees potential in me. I don't know.

I cannot nor do I strive to understand the depth of Jehovah. I can only try to understand the lessons I learn either via experience from others or personal. One can hope.

I stop long enough to tilt my head up and close my eyes. Kindly asking Jehovah why as my stomach growls. I laugh and say yes. That is all that is necessary. I am hungry. But not for food that fills my stomach. I am hungry for the food that fills my spirit.

I have died so many times, inside, that I am surprised at how much I really do live. Only can be holy spirit because I am clearly not walking alone. I don't know how I have survived the numerous near deaths, spiritually and physically, but I get that I am supposed to keep moving. That the bubble of protection is around me for a reason.

Why though am I stupid enough to keep testing it? Why am I just not accepting that it is a good thing? Why do I rebel so?

Ah because that is what I have always done. Its a defense mechanism.  One I instilled inside because that is how I survived in the past, before knowing Jehovah. I think it is the thought that someone truly loves me part, that there is genuine love just for me. Since I never really knew what it felt like, its hard that someone loves me enough to protect me. Not use me to there advantage and harm.

To be loved like that is hard to soak in. So much of me just doesn't know if that can be real. Its hard to see and feel. Even harder to believe.

To seek in people love like that is unreal. I have only seen something similar inside my family once. Truly not sure if it was a real sight but the compassion was there. I searched for something similar but I have a distorted view. So I am sure that nothing like that can happen here on earth.

I sigh. So much drills through my head in the wee hours of the morning.

I stare off into the textures of the wall. The mind trilling over more hopes. One day. One day.