I can’t tell you how many times I have looked into someone’s eyes after they said, “Fine,” and knew that just wasn’t true. If we the church are supposed to bring our burdens to Lord together, why are we having to hide our troubles. Why are some problems considered insignificant or simply not appropriate. When I am laying on the bathroom floor trying to stay conscious is that really too indelicate for my God to handle. I think part of the reason why I have trouble asking him for help is because I spent so much of my life hiding pain. Making other people happy was the focus and truly that fuels the people pleaser to a point. But this isn’t just me. As I said, other people do it too: all the time! Sometimes because they don’t want to complain, and sometimes cause they just don’t won’t anyone to know. Okay, I get it. It’s private and so painful you just can’t share it, but it’s likely that like me you haven’t been able to ask God either. Like we’re keeping that problem all to ourselves. I am starting to think until I believe God wants to hear my prayers and all my needs, I won’t have growing faith. Like it has me stuck. I see God the Father as so amazingly powerful that the idea of asking for my tiny thing seems weird. Yet He wants me to. I am going to keep working on changing my thinking Rom 12:2. Hopefully it helps.
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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