(please read part one first)

I never told Mom about that. I�m sure she knows. She knows everything about my life, whether I tell her or not, but� *shakes her head* I�ve refused to tell her because I don�t want her to look at me the way Duncan did.

And that�s the point. I don�t want God to look at me the way Duncan did. I don�t want Jesus to look at me that way. I don�t want to see the disappointment in His eyes. And that�s why I avoid Bible study and prayer. By talking to God and listening to Him, I open myself to my own judgment.

It isn�t God judging me� it�s me judging me.

So� I�m in the same situation again.

I haven�t stolen cigarettes� but I�ve been taking draws from my boss. She knows about them and they�re on the books, but� I know full well that I haven�t earned the money yet. And I feel guilty about it because I haven�t earned the money that I�ve already been paid.

I don�t know for sure, but I would estimate that I�ve drawn against future earnings so much that I�m probably due for no paychecks until December. I hope it�s not that far in the future, but again, I don�t want to figure it out because� well, then I�d have to face it� I�d have to take responsibility. I�d rather ignore the knowledge and pretend I�ve done nothing wrong.

I can�t do that though� the guilt is eating me alive.

Since last Friday, it�s been eating me alive. At first, I was able to ignore it while I dove into the feelings of rage. Rage has always been the emotion I choose to express� Rage is the reaction� but the true emotion felt is fear.

Well� I have to do something about that.

I don�t want to get to the point where someone else makes my choices for me. I don�t want my options limited again. I want to choose the right path. I want, I really, really want, to make the good stuff that happens, MY choice.

Therein the problem lies. In my desire to fix the problem myself, I have pushed Jesus away from me. I Bible study only halfway. I don�t pray much at all. When I do pray, it�s either a group situation where I don�t have to say word one about myself and my issues, or the prayer is very� *frowns* ordinary.

It�s like Adam and Eve in the garden after they�d eaten the apple they weren�t supposed to. Instead of standing up and taking responsibility for their stupid mistake, they hid. They wore guilt and shame and fear instead of coming forward and saying to God that yes, they�d fucked up, but they�d like to be forgiven.

So, here I am, feeling an abundance of shame and guilt and fear. My boss has been gone for two weeks and I was supposed to keep up with the bills and stuff� and I slacked off.

I got a phone call from her today telling me that the water was shut off to the house and hadn�t I taken care of that and what was I doing?

*shakes her head* I�ve felt like a complete shit ever since. I�ve composed melodramatic letters of apology in my head all day. But really, it�s not her I need to apologize to. I need to apologize to God. My boss doesn�t care that I slacked off. She really doesn�t. She just wants me to get everything caught up. (currently, it�s about eight hours from being completely caught up� I�ll work on it tomorrow and Sunday and all will be well)

The problem is� It�s really God I sinned against. I said I�d take care of things and I didn�t. It�s easy to fix the problem. It�s also easy to fix the whole �draw vs paycheck� problem too. For the former� simply do the work, it�s 8 hours worth, can be done in two days easy. The latter is easy too� just don�t take any more draws until I�ve actually earned the money.

Simple solutions. Easy to implement.

The problem? I�m at the point in the scenario where it�s time to face my responsibility� to do the work, to go without paychecks/draws. It�s so damned easy when I write about it. So simple. So easy in my mind even. But the body is craving ignorance.

There is a part of me that wants to run away. A lot. There�s a part of me screaming to run away, to hide from the mess I created. There�s a part of me that wants to simply crawl into my new truck, hide under the mat and pretend I can�t be seen by anyone. Perhaps, if I just sit on the couch, put a blanket over me and be really quiet, no one will see me.

That doesn�t work though.

So none of this makes any sense and why should I be blathering on about it anyway?

Because in two months I�ll be 33 years old. I should not be running away anymore. Though I�m not physically running away, I have seen the evidence of mental escape.

I spent the last two and a half years of my marriage on vacation from reality. I don�t want to do that again. Yet, part of my brain tells me that I have to make the difference. There�s a part of me saying that I have to clean up the mess I made. The problem is, I can�t. I can�t do it by myself.

I don�t want to ask God for help. If I did, He might see what a shit I�ve become. He might see how stupid and gross and disgusting and useless I am. If I admit the truth to God (who already knows it) He might know that I have no power.

Maybe, just maybe it�s me who doesn�t want to know I have no power. Maybe it�s me who doesn�t want to know how useless I am. Maybe it�s pride that says I have to find a way to fix my fucked up life on my own.

I�m going to be 33 in two months. I�m living in the basement of my parents� home. I don�t pay rent. I work for approximately 15 hours a month� if that. I earn, possibly, 70 bucks a month� in a good month. I haven�t been doing the job I�ve been stealing money for. (Yes, I call it stealing because when you take �pay� for something you haven�t yet done, that�s kinda� stealing.)

I don�t want to admit that I�m in too deep. I don�t want to admit that I have fucked up my life. Again.

I don�t want to believe that I can�t be perfect by myself.

*sighs*

That�s it. I don�t want to admit, to myself, that I have no control of my actions. Alone� alone I�m a sinner. And I hate that. And I�m ashamed of that. And I�m afraid of that. And I�m afraid that Jesus won�t like me. Rather� I�m afraid He will.

Fucked up, huh?

I don�t want to show Jesus that I�m fucked up even though He already knows.

The following story shows exactly where I am!

Remember the Duck � unknown author

There was a little boy visiting his grandparents on their farm and he was given a slingshot to play with out in the woods. He practiced in the woods, but he could never hit the target� and getting a little discouraged; he headed back to dinner. As he was walking back he saw Grandma's pet duck. Just out of impulse, he let fly, hit the duck square in the head, and killed it. He was shocked and grieved. In a panic, he hid the dead duck in the woodpile, only to see his sister watching. Sally had seen it all, but she said nothing.

After lunch that day Grandma said, "Sally, let's wash the dishes." But Sally said, "Grandma, Johnny told me he wanted to help in the kitchen today, didn't you Johnny?" And then she whispered to him, "Remember, the duck?" So Johnny did the dishes. Later Grandpa asked if the children wanted to go fishing, and Grandma said, "I'm sorry but I need Sally to help make supper." But Sally smiled and said, "Well, that's all right because Johnny told me he wanted to help." And she whispered again, "Remember, the duck?" So Sally went fishing and Johnny stayed. After several days of Johnny doing both his chores and Sally's, he finally couldn't stand it any longer. He came to Grandma and confessed that he killed the duck. She knelt down, gave him a hug, and said, "Sweetheart, I know. You see, I was standing at the window and I saw the whole thing. But because I love you, I forgave you. But I was just wondering how long would you let Sally make a slave of you."

I don't know what's in your past. I don't know what one sin the enemy keeps throwing up in your face. But whatever it is, I want you to know something. Jesus Christ was standing at the window. And He saw the whole thing. But because He loves you, He has forgiven you. Perhaps He's wondering how long you'll let the enemy make a slave out of you. The great thing about God is that He not only forgives, but He forgets!!!

So, how long will I let myself make a slave out of me? How long will I hide from God when He can see me plain as day? How long will I pretend that somehow I can do, see or be enough to fix the problem?

I want to say it ends tonight. I�ve said that before. I don�t know when it ends.

But, I�ll tell you this�

As I go to sleep, in about ten minutes, I�ll be praying. I�ll probably be praying and crying at the same time.

I have the feeling that there are going to be a lot of tears in the next few months. That�s an entry for another night, but for the most part, it means that there is a lot of processing going on inside my head.

I�m fucked up. I�m really fucked up. And I can�t fix it. As soon as I let go, God will step in and make my life better. He�ll hold me and love me and rock me back and forth whether I believe I deserve it or not. He�ll love me even though I feel like the worst piece of shit on the face of the earth. He will forgive me because He loves, not because I deserve it.

I can never deserve it. I can never do enough. I can never be good enough. It is my job to admit that I can�t do jack shit and then open my heart� open my life to God, to Jesus�

Oh, my Lord God, please save me from myself. I can�t do this. I can�t live this way anymore and I can�t do jack shit about it. I don�t want to be this way anymore. Please, give me a job with pay so that I can pay back my boss. Please give me peace. Please� forgive me. Please�

I just can�t do this anymore. I can not live another thirty years of my life without admitting my weakness. I can�t go on thinking I can be good enough. As you told Paul� Your grace is sufficient for me. Make me believe it, please. Come into me. Be the better person. I can�t do it. Become me and be the good person I so desperately want to be. I just can�t do this anymore� I can�t pretend anymore. I can�t�. I can�t fix it.

Fix it for me. Fix me, Father. Fix me, my Husband. Heal me.