Painful Garden

Pain is good.  It makes us stronger.  Exposure to germs makes our immune systems stronger.  We get sick, and it's not pleasant.  Our bodies fight it, we get over it and we are never weakened by that particular germ again.

When working out, it hurts.  Especially the next day.  Our muscles are being worked past breaking point.  The fibers within are being torn.  When they heal up and the pain is gone, potential for how powerful they are is increased more than twice what it was before.  It hurts, but in the end we reap great benefits.

You know what also hurts?  Going to friends and expressing feelings and then having them help you weed out the nasty, gnarly weeds inside that make you feel like that.  Judgmental, selfish, accusing weeds.  They hurt coming out.  I find myself trying to hide them and throw some dirt over them, but they keep growing.  I'm afraid my friends will set fire to my garden if they see them...Instead, they tell me that I simply need to see the gardener more often, and I need to keep on showing my weeds.

I do have nasty things in my heart.  On the outside, I want to be this cute, stylish, thoughtful, sweet thing that I am, but I have junk inside.  I don't want to look at.  It's not my job to get rid of those things and hiding them doesn't help. I need only to keep on looking at them as they come up and letting them show and looking to Christ again and again.  Then He will take the weeds out.

No Sister :(

I'm aching for a sister,

Someone just like me,

Spontaneous and silly, 

with whom I can agree.

We'd wear each other's shirts and skirts

And do each other's hair,

We'd give each other foot massages,

We'd be the cutest pair.

If one wanted to watch a movie 

Out of the blue,

We'd throw on jammies, grab our blankets 

And make some popcorn too.

We'd craft and sing and bake and dance

And marvel at the stars.

We'd probably have the fieriest fights

And crash each others cars.

If my sister were a twin 

She'd have blue eyes, red hair.

Whenever one of us is lonely,

The other would be there.

We'd be content and happy,

And talk about the misters,

And it would take some doing

For them to get between me and my sister.

My sister would love me ever-so

And I would do the same,

But I haven't got a sister

'Cause my sister never came.

I'll tell you something not-so-fair,

And here is the twister:

My brothers got one, but not me,

I didn't get a sister.

.