Questions for Jeannie

Questions for Jeannie:
1. Do I have to fold my hands every time I talk to God?
2. Because I used the Ouija board, was interested in witchcraft, etc. before will it effect God’s decision for me? Would I be left behind? Even though God is the most important thing to me?
3. Should I fast?
4. I keep praying and I don’t get better. Does God want me better? If so, why?
5. Why fear God?

I’ve asked God, but I don’t think I’ve gotten an answer yet. Maybe I’ve got to figure this one out on my own. But even that would be with God, so never mind. Hey, I’m new at this.

The thing is that while I am moving forward in my relationship with God to where obsessed is an understatement my family and (most of) my friends are pushing away. The only ones who seem interested or at least not bothered by my Jesus talk are Michael, Nick and Gramma. Now it is God, through Jeannie, who turned my life around. Mom used to see Jeannie, how come she wasn’t turned around, too? She never talks about Jesus or God, she doesn’t pray or read the Bible or go to church. She won’t even take me to church. I also get the feeling that she doesn’t like going to the Family Christian store, which I love. Ginny is no better.

Jessie doesn’t pray, read the Bible or go to church, yet she says that she is a Christian. Her parents do too, and they are the same. [Note: This is a false statement. Tim and Laura have never professed to be Christians.] I asked her if she wanted to come to church with me and Gramma this Sunday and she said yes. I told her we were going at 8:00 AM. She still said yes. If I know Jessie, she won’t make it, but I’ll ask God to give me faith in her. She said she wanted to start going to First Plymouth because it was pretty. I’m sorry Lord, but I wanted to shake her. A pretty church is nice, Jessie, but don’t you hunger for unity of people and knowledge and worship of the Lord?! I’ll have to pray for tolerance of her as well.

I am getting better and better everyday at being a Christian and I thank God for it.

Feeling Insane

Note: I was on a seriously high dose of Prednisone in the summer of 2003

The drugs they put me on…I dunno. My mind is so messed up. I feel insane. I am not myself. Sometimes. Sometimes I want to hit the walls and scream. Sometimes everything swirls and I am lost in it. Its like morphine.
Then I wig cuz I can’t eat. Everything hurts. And then I get this feeling like I’m gonna throw up, only it goes over my heart and brain, and under my face. I am so totally delirious. I feel like I’m living in a dream. I want to cry out. To wake up. I can’t.
I pray to God that He give me my body, mind and life back. I hope he listens cuz I’m trapped and someone needs to pull me out.

Taking It With Me

I feel icky. My stomach and (especially) my head hurt. Please, God, make it stop. If I am going through this suffering there has to be a reason. Why? I want to know why God has made me sickly. I suppose I’ll find out in time. I am tired. But I am writing and that makes me feel good. And I’m at home. I’m happy because what I’m doing makes God happy; its what He wants me to do.

What would I do without Jeannie? I mean, really. I would be just as lost as I would be without Harry Potter. I gave her Roses and Bones today. I hope she likes it. I got two books for teens from the Christian store today.

The world is so full of temptations. Its one big temptation. I should just stay home and at school and places like that where temptation is zip. Wait. What am I saying? There are different temptations that covetousness. Like peer pressures, and being mean. In other words, disobeying God. Oh man, I never want to disobey God and I can say that from the bottom of my heart.

Later…

Sorry, I had to go for a minute because Gin came in. I was closing my eyes just now and I think I could hear the Lord telling me to put my mind at rest and just relax. I kept trying to change positions, not because I was uncomfortable but because it’s a habit. And that voice said no, just relax. I am pretty sure it was the Lord and I felt such tenderness from Him and I feared nothing.

I thought I should write this down and I opened my eyes easy as pie and wrote. Okay, I’m still tired, but a bit better.

Anyway, I have no father here and I desperately need one. Here is the Lord, my real Father.
Things that are important to me, like writing, cannot be taken with me that I die, but hopefully they are read by the living and effect them in a positive way. Please, God, let this happen. You know what I miss? Rainy Sundays at church.

10:33 PM

It is the strangest sensation to be in Ambien (as I am now). I sound sane right now but Ambien world has me in its clutches. I can think anything. It is just like being in a dream. Can’t pay attention to anything.

Torture

Torture, if I may be frank. Actually, I may be Becca, but you never know. Ha ha. Anyway, torture is what picture taking/locker check out is at Southeast High School for losers with no friends and a personality type the accounts for 4% of the world. And I don’t like most teenagers. I mean, in the name of Harry Potter, these girls were talking about how the hall smelled like a penis. Get a life!

Andrew is still cute, but as he is a loser and was talking about butt cracks with his friend I am afraid that he is out of the picture. Good thing I am on an anti-depressant, huh? Can anyone in the world read my hand writing? I only write like this for things no one but me is gonna have to read.