On Monday night, Justin and I were embroiled in a conversation regarding someone saying he wasn’t smart. I was livid, but calm.

“Who said that, Justin?”

“My teacher.”

“What?“

“Just kidding.”

Deep breath.

“Mom.”

“Yep.”

“The devil says I’m not smart.”

“What??”

“The devil says I’m not smart. But I don’t believe him.”   Pause.   “I don’t listen, because the devil is lies.”

My son is a theological genius. No, actually, what he has is Jesus Christ in his heart, without fear of ridicule or anything else. Grown-ups should take a lesson from him. I should take a lesson from him.

Soon.

Last night I was speaking with a friend of mine who is going through a really rough time, dealing with past sexual abuse. I have committed to help. The conversation last night was very long and difficult. I feel helpless, and just wish I could make it all better.

I spent most of today digging through Dan Allender’s The Wounded Heart. It was heart-wrenching to read it from my friend’s point of view. Everything became so clear. I prayed all day long - asking God to confirm that I should be involved. I feel so uneducated - helpless.

The enemy has pounded me all day long. “What do you know about sexual abuse? Nothing!”   “Why do you think you can help? You can’t!”   “You’re too involved to be objective!”   “Your motives are wrong!”   “Who are you, God?”

But I tried to ward off the constant screaming in my ear, and I worked hard to take notes from Allender’s book and remember what Justin told me. “The devil is lies.”

All I know for sure is that this is too important to stop now.

Very, very interesting. Opened up the baggage I perpetually haul around with me and pulled out my very first boyfriend today. I found his e-mail address by accident on Sunday and decided to write him to say hello. Received a return e-mail today, along with a picture of his 5-month-old baby, who is darling. My reaction to the e-mail was a bit neurotic, but I truly think God is more committed to this healing process than I give him credit for. Stripping all the old, pent-up, self-created and self-contemptuous emotions in order to give my life back to me.

I wrote him back. Shared pictures of Justin. Panicked a bit when I saw he’d hit my journal. But, then again, I put all this up here, so I should expect people to read it. It’s a bit of accountability - keeps you honest. Somewhere.

Doesn’t life keep getting more and more interesting?

Receiving a pruning,

michelle