I get it(:, I was forgetting how good I have it. I was reading I Corinthians 10 today. How much trouble I get into when I compare myself to others. It's true, I have emotional/psychological issues, but they doesn't have to be my undoing. I have a friend who is struggling with excepting a mental health disorder. Her reluctance to accept it is prolonging her aggravated symptoms. My fellow bipolar buddies can relate to that. We all go through a period of denial. I wonder if cancer patients do that? As if pretending there is nothing wrong with you, will some how heal you. Sorry, it doesn't work. Believe me I tried it too. I imaging everyone can relate to that for some reason. I have a gift though; two in fact. My two children are my gifts. I wanted to be healthy enough to raise them. What if I didn't have them? Would I have cared about getting well then? What if you thought you had no one...would you care enough to want to be well? Notice, I said thought because I truly believe many people have people who care about them, but just don't realize it because they aren't seeing things clearly. The hope though that helps me most in the deepest, darkest times is not my children. The hope is the love of Jesus Christ and His promises. "But God commendeth His love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners; Christ died for us."
As a kid I watched my parents fight about different things. I don't really have any other parents to compare them to so I can't really say whether they were normal fights couples have or not. I couldn't even say what most of them were about except the ones that were about me. We only ate as a family on holidays. My father came home late so we kids ate without him. I do remember spending time with him in the evening before I went to bed so it couldn't have been that late. My own husband gets home a little later because of his job commute so we eat late every night. But home schooling has given us the ability to be more flexible than my Mom was able to be. We had school early the next day. As I got older, I remember my Father being home less and less and the fights seemed to intensify. I remember one night when I was thirteen. I could hear them yelling through the wall. My mom found me crying and I told her I didn't want them to get a divorce. She told me...
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