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| Hello strange world of xanga-ing. its been a long time.:) | | |
| I really wish people used this more.
What do you do when what you want most (selfish, true.) will make you so happy now, but will most likely end up hurting you later on. Do you look at the bigger picture, or give in and dive into amazing feelings for the moment?
its an obvious answer.
but SO hard for me right now. so hard.
<3 | | |
| Alone in her room, 15-year-old Grace searched for a clear landing between the red
scars criss-crossing her left forearm. There was none. Sighing, she placed the razor blade
at the base of her elbow where a wound had barely healed and dug in. Immediately, blood
spurted out and numbness set in. She watched as a sliver of the red liquid made its way
down her arm, falling into the bathroom sink below. Soon her tears fell along side,
mixing with the blood.
She quickly threw a towel over her arm when she heard the fist hit the door. Her
throat mustered up the stability to talk through tears, “I’ll be right out”, she explained to
her clueless eighteen year old brother. She sighed,
“you deserved it” She whispered to herself as her mind flashed through the paralyzing
memories of her father’s abuse.
Once back in her room, she wrapped her arm in Gauze padding, which finally rid
her eyes of the red color. Her arms slipped into an orange long sleeve shirt, which
completely clashed with her blue sweatpants. She closed her eyes, avoiding the beautiful,
terrified, hurting girl that faced her in the tall mirror’s reflection. Finally around two am,
sleep took Grace into a world were love wasn’t based on satisfying the lustful desires of
men, a world she couldn’t imagine.
Her glossy blue eyes opened slowly as the sound of the alarm clock bounced
around in her ears. After washing her face, she stumbled down the stairs. There her
brother stood, beaming.
“Good morning, Adam”, She smiled weakly. Her elbow hit the railing and she
winced as excruciating pain shot up her left arm. She sat down at the kitchen table,
staring at the bowl of cheerios in front of her. Her vision hazed over as her mind threw
her into the past.
“Grace! Where are you?” Grace clung to her knees as she struggled to keep the
small closet door closed. No matter were she hid, her father always found her within ten
minutes of getting home. She jerked with surprise and horror as his beer bottle shattered
against the door.
“Get out here, now” She quickly threw the closet door open and stumbled out,
falling right into his rough grasp. He forced her out of her clothes and threw her on the
bed. Her head hit the side table hard enough to bleed, but that was nothing compared to
what was coming.
Back in the kitchen again, She lifted the spoon to her lips and let the cheerios slide
onto her tongue. The flash back had done an unnatural twist in her stomach, and she no
longer desired the food. The bus was an hour away, so she went upstairs to shower. She
took showers twice a day, not because she played sports, but because It was the only way
to shake the disgusted feeling.
Once she was dressed nicely, hair was done, and make-up was applied, she sat on
her bed with an extra fifteen minutes. Her hand shook as it went for the razor blade next
to her. She stared at the sharp object, while her thoughts swam in and out of reasoning.
She never stopped to think what It would be like to not go through with it. Cutting was
automatic, her antidote, her rescue. This thought of avoiding the blood flow had
completely interrupted her wave of motion. She shook her head as her jaw flexed, and she
placed the blade against her skin. But there was no jolt of energy shooting down her arm,
no pressure flowing through the sharp edge. Her hand started shaking insanely, but she
made no attempt to dig in, or remove the blade. The bedroom door swung open.
“Oh, sorry I forgot to--” Her brother stopped and stared at the blade. Grace quickly clenched it in her palm, not injuring herself, but hiding it from him. It was too late.
“Grace…” She nodded slowly as tears blurred her vision, then she threw the sharp object
on the floor. The tall, dark haired boy ran to her side, and pulled her close to him as they
fell from the bed to the floor.
After a full minute, Grace pulled herself away from her brother, focusing on his
tear soaked shirt. The back of his hand gently brushed under her eyes, removing the
moister. then their eyes locked.
“You can‘t do this to yourself, You’re worth so much more then this” fresh tears burst
from her eyes as she shook her head,
“It helps me, no one understands!” she exclaimed bitterly. He sighed, tears filling his eyes
as well.
“God understands you Grace, and he loves you.” Silence.
“God loves me? He did die for me….why would he put me through this? This is all his
fault. No, no it’s Satan’s fault.” Adam spoke again,
“You’re his princess, when your addicted to him, none of these other things matter,
nothing else will ever satisfy, you can be healed from this haunting past, Grace, but not by
the shredding of your own skin.” More contradicting thoughts, but suddenly it all made
sense. Grace embraced her brother again, and his strong arms held her tight.
“I’m So sorry” She whispered into his ear, but she knew that when reality hit, she was
really screaming the same words to God.
“God loves me…” She picked up the razor blade and aimed for the trash can.
“He can heal me” She threw the silver piece away and faced Adam again. He smiled and
nodded with understanding.
“I am his.” she said with a pinch of hope in her voice.
Adam and Grace took a sick day off school, and spent the day praying, reading the
bible. By the end the day, Grace was in awe of God’s Love, and Grace.
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| But if you show favoritism, you sin and are convicted by the law as lawbreakers.
James 2:9 (NIV)
I've been reading through James lately (I'm actually taking a class this spring that requires we study it so, i thought i'd get a head start)
This verse stopped me, and i read it a few times (around it*)
Favoritism is a sin?! I've broken the law?!
This is very very convicting for me...at first my thought was "right, because it's like judging". It is BUT, this is even easier to do...not everytime i choose one person over another am i sitting there going "okay, i don't like that as much"...sometimes i do it even without thinking. Sometimes we do it without knowing we're doing it. So it's easier to slip up. < that of course is me making reference to my friends. when it comes to complete strangers...
James 2:2-4
Suppose a man comes into your meeting wearing a gold ring and fine clothes, and a poor man in shabby clothes also comes in. If you show special attention to the man wearing fine clothes and say, "Here's a good seat for you," but say to the poor man, "You stand there" or "Sit on the floor by my feet," have you not discriminated among yourselves and become judges with evil thoughts?
So uh..we show favoritism with strangers too.....
We're all LAW BREAKERS because of it O.O
Fact done.
So, i've been semi-overwelmed by all i find i DON'T know about God, and how much more there is to learn, sometimes it gets me so overwelmed i just stop for a bit, although I shouldn't.
x_Annie_x
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| Most people occasionally have a bad day with their parents...
[as is Human]...I just went about six months strong without any yelling fits. Now...we're back into the yelling fits. The groundings. the disrespecting.
Here's a small story for ya: once and awhile, I renew my love to Christ by putting on the smack-down, obeying everything my parents say, and then i feel like there's really no reward, cause the things i enjoy doing aren't getting done, i'm on a leash, and i'm just "sitting" there like a good puppy. I decide to slip out for a small stroll, and things are all so lovely. Then, there's this person.[an older brother] who taps my parents shoulders, and pointing towards me. He claims to hate his job, yet he does it quite often.
Then i'm left sitting on the even shorter leash growling at everyone who passes or gets near me. I stare at the freedom i once had missing it...i smile less, and even though i still try my hardest to connect to God, he's not whats right infront of my face.
thee end.
Sort of a sad end, really...i should make an alternative ending. But now the trapped feeling is back. I have avoided this for a total of about...seven or eight months now. I had a fine relationship with God and my parents, this making me 'perfectly okay' with all their restrictions. but were i am now, i don't see how i was ever there. I see what they want me to do, and I just shrug and roll my eyes. I've lost the respect I had for them, and the respect I have for myself. I'm willing to talk bad about them and myself if it's socially exceptable. I'll never go back to how it was two years ago, BUT at this point i think i'm...a quarter of the way there, so someone...please stop me.
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