Whew!

This title speaks volumes. Ya'll I am tired. Not tired...that's the wrong word...I am thoroughly exhausted. I have been working and working. I wish I could say I was working my butt off, but alas it is still following me around! Some good things have happened in my blog-absence though. A long talk happened with the boss and I was finally able to have LPN added to my job title. After all the time I have spent kicking myself for not going on to become an RN, I have never been so happy to be an LPN! It still isn't the greatest situation. I got asked if I felt "comfortable enough" to clean a 1 inch cut on some kid's forehead yesterday. Not bandage, mind you, clean - as in apply saline with a gauze. Oh well. At least I wasn't told I'm not qualified enough for that too. It kills me. I am blessed to have this job though. Wonderful things have happened recently because of the extra money in the house. I was finally able to get rid of my delapidated minivan! Mama's got a new car. Yay! We are able to cover our financial situation with wiggle room and put some away. I kind of forgot what it felt like to make money. It feels good. I miss being at home. I miss my kids. I miss the relaxed environment. I miss knowing what my day will be like or what to expect. My body is a frayed bundle of nerves. Its been weeks since I felt like I've had enough sleep. I need a nap...badly. My days off aren't really like days off, they are more like recovery. I can't say that I am enjoying them properly because I'm so worn out. I am super excited that I was able to get Wednesdays off this schedule for a bible study and also 4 days for Spring Break! My sister will be visiting :) Consequently, I have to work 4 weekends in a row. Oh, I hope I catch my groove soon. I am sorry that I haven't blogged lately. I have wanted to. I miss that too! I want to take a minute to apologize for ignoring my comments. I didn't receive them until this week! I don't know what happened, but I wasn't notified about any of them. I cried when I read them. The Christmas holiday was so bleak and horrible for me. I didn't think that anyone knew what I was going through, but you were there all the time, cheering me on. Thank you to anyone who visited my blog or left a comment. I would like to say a big ol'"Welcome" to my new follower GunDiva!! Thank you so much for visiting. You are the first person to "find" me on this thing called the internet. I am appreciative of your patronage darling ;) Hopefully it won't be long before I can post again. Thanks for joining the journey.

Back to the Grindstone

Well, this week I rejoined the working class. After 6 weeks of unemployment, I am sweating it out like a grunt. Everyone has been nice....mostly. I have run into a few personalities that I can tell are not going to be fun to work with at all, but that's work I suppose. The doctors have all been relatively nice, or maybe tolerant is the word. I only screwed up the orders 3 times in 3 days! The nurses are optimistic that it will work out for the best. Well, not all of them. I ran into a particularly nasty one last night. For the most part, what I am encountering most is people asking why I am doing this job. I'm getting pretty tired of explaining myself. I thought I was going to be ok with it, but its getting harder and harder when everyone acts like I'm lowering myself. The general attitude is that I should feel a little shamed for working as a Tech instead of a Nurse. Really? Is being
a Tech that shameful? I was a CNA for awhile and I don't remember being that ashamed about it. Maybe its only shameful if one goes from being a nurse to a tech in a backward-type motion?? I don't know, but I thought I was going to be fine with it and then everyone keeps responding in the same way when I tell them that I'm a nurse. I filled out a medicine list the first day and was told that I couldn't do that because "I'm not a nurse anymore", then last night I was copying down what the ambulance driver was telling me and I was told that this is the same as "taking report" and I'm not able to do that either...I'm not licensed personnel. I explained that I am licensed and was told (by the nasty one in a nasty tone) that I am not a nurse as far as the hospital is concerned, that my job description doesn't include clinical skills and I am a liability in the Emergency Room. Hmm. Tell me
what you really think of me Ms. Attitude. That did, unfortunately, make me feel ashamed and belittled and I didn't shake it for the rest of the night. Liability, huh? Well, I guess so. The problem is that some things seem so simple and elementary I don't think about it being a "clinical skill", like filling out a med list. My supervisor gave me a responsibilities list which reads like a to-do list that I make my kids, complete with take out the trash, but what I need to know are the things that I CAN'T do. These are the things that are getting me in trouble. Every time I do something wrong the only excuse I can think of is that I'm a nurse and I don't realize that I'm not allowed to do it, to which the only rational reply is " Then what are you doing here?" Its so hard for me to keep my place behind the desk when someone needs help. Its second nature for me to jump in and start doing
things. I've been told that I need to stay out of the way because there isn't anything I can do that is helpful...I'm just the secretary. There are 3 nurses in particular that are very supportive and one of them is the senior nurse. They all think that I should have an expanded job role. I agree. Why can't I do small simple things if the nurses are busy? The other night we were so slammed we had people in the hallways and had to go on diversion. I told the nurses it seems stupid that they are suffering and I'm sitting behind the desk!! There are things I can be doing! I can draw blood for them, give oral medicines, dress wounds...all kinds of small jobs that bog them down. I do understand that I can't do what they can do because I'm an LPN and they are RN's but that distinction I am used to. I wouldn't feel comfortable doing triage for instance because that is considered 1st assessment
and has always been an RN's job. The answer I got is that they don't want me doing things the other tech's can't do because if the nurses get used to me being able to do it then they might ask the other tech to do it and she may not know enough to say that she can't. Ok, I understand that but there has got to be a middle ground somewhere. I cannot work in a place where every one thinks I should be ashamed of myself. Its hard enough to do the job already, I don't need them making it more excrutiating. Yesterday I almost swallowed my tongue when a family member asked me if I was a nurse and I had to take a deep breath and tell her no. I pray that this gets easier. Please God don't let it get harder. What I truly pray for is that my brain stops thinking like a nurse and starts thinking like a tech, maybe then I will stop getting myself into trouble already! My supervisor was worried that
the other nurses would dump their work on me and use me....but in reality I think I'm the problem. I keep trying to do things that I shouldn't and if I perform outside my role I probably am a liability, legally speaking, whether I am licensed or not and I surely do not want to compromise the hospital just by being who I am. Only time will tell now, I guess. I just have to take one day at a time and hopefully one day I will find that its not hard anymore. Maybe one day I will find myself thinking like a tech, but then again by that time I will probably have moved into a nursing role and will have to retrain myself all over again. Oh, well. While I'm figuring it out, I am earning a living and paying my bills. I suppose that's the best reason of all.

Worthy

I am worthy.

I am worthy of love...only if I do what is expected of me.

I am worthy of friendship...only if I make you feel good about yourself.

I am worthy of trust...only if I am painfully humble in your presence.

I am worthy of affection...only if my to-do list is all checked off.

I am worthy of relaxation....only if I have nothing else to do.

I am worthy of rememberance....only if you have nothing else to do at the time.

I am worthy of happiness...only if I can fit it in while you're gone.

I am worthy of respect...only if I earn it.

I am worthy of you....because occasionally I do everything you expect of me.

I am worthy of grace....because I need more help than anyone else.

I am worthy of life...only if I apologize for my existence constantly.

I am worthy.

Still Struggling

Well, its official. The holidays are over, unless you are from Alabama-which I am- then of course Thursday is a holiday because the Crimson Tide are playing in the National Championship Game, but I digress. As a follow up to my previous (extremely depressing) blog post I wanted to talk about my current emotional state. To start out with, I just wanted to apologize. I know that a blog is my place to vent and unload and I shouldn't apologize for that, but really...Damn. I re-read that later and thought to myself 'Someone should be calling the crisis hotline'. I shouldn't blog when I'm upset. I know better than that. I'm smart enough to know that liquor and email don't mix, so it should go without saying that depression and blogs don't either, right? Well, apparently I can't control myself, because here I am again. I managed to squeak through Christmas Eve dinner with the In-Laws, feign
total excitement over Christmas morning, even though I was truly touched by my childrens' presents (nothing could change that), and actually feel relaxed and cheerful for dinner with friends, I did have to restrain an "episode" when I found out that my mother's family had planned a Christmas dinner complete with presents and had somehow miraculously forgotten to include me! Hmmm. Whatever. My sister from Upstate Alabama (is that a real phrase??) came to visit the next week. Its always nice to visit with her but honestly I should have been a much better hostess. I couldn't get myself off the couch the whole week. She took advantage of the "lazy" time but I know that the real culprit is that I just don't care. I had an uneventful New Year's Eve. We went to a party at a friends house that was a bust because only one other couple showed up...still feel bad for them... and got up at the
crack of dawn to say goodbye to my sister all over again. Ugh. I managed to throw together a small dinner for the family, but really only because I DON'T wanna know what happens if you don't eat greens and black eyed peas on New Year's Day!! Somewhere inside it was still numb. NUMB. I'm so sick of it! On Sunday, God spoke directly to me at church. Its not an uncommon occurrence when I actually open my ears and listen. The sermon was about doing what God gave you the ability to do, where he put you, with the people he put in your life. I've heard this before but I think I've been getting my wires crossed. My focus has been on writing. I love to write so that must be what God wants from me, right? Well, maybe not. I've known (and have been ignoring) for some time that I have a unique heart for abused women, especially concerning rape and incest, because of my background. God has put some
amazing opportunities in my life recently to get my attention. After a year of counseling with my pastor I was able to break significant barriers toward healing this area of my life. Almost immediately it led me to make myself, my story and my prayers available to members of the church through a 'Care Network'. Shortly after that, I gave testimony at church about being raped when I was a teenager, not about my childhood however because we only had an hour. Since then several women have come to me for prayer and advice and I still follow up with them and stay involved with them mentor-style. These experiences, along with other random things (see my post "A Heart Response"), have been pushing me to turn my attention towards Christian Counseling as a career path. I keep putting it off, making excuses, trying to pretend that its a far-fetched idea. Who would take me seriously?? I finally
told my husband about it a couple months ago and didn't really get a response from him. So, Sunday I'm sitting in church and this conviction hits me: I have to go back to school. I mentioned it to my husband and didn't exactly get the response I was hoping for. "We can't afford that, you need a job, I can't handle all the bills on my own!" If you know my husband, you know that tact is not his talent, so it didn't come out so nicely. In fact, he apparently didn't even remember having the conversation about Counseling because he sarcastically asked me, "For what??". I didn't even answer him, I walked away. I may not be perfect but even I don't think that slapping your husband in the church lobby is acceptable. I should be so happy right now. A few hours ago I got a phone call to tell me that I have a job. Yay. I know, I know, have a little gratitude. Its not a nursing position, in fact
its a Tech position (read CNA) which means its grunt labor that I thought I was done with, for less money and longer shifts....but to be fair it IS a job, it IS full time, it DOES have benefits and it WILL pay the bills. Can I just admit that it hurts my pride...just a little? I have a license...and I'm not using it! Nobody wants this job. The current CNA's don't want this job. Its a cross between CNA and secretary with a little butt-kisser thrown in for good measure because customer service scores are so low. I went to college for this?? I paid my dues as a CNA, I hated every minute of it. My mother was an aide for 30 years, hats off to ya Mom, it wasn't for me. That being said, I'm struggling. I'm struggling with gratitude. Now that I have a job there is no way in Hell I have time for school, not that Hubby would have allowed it to happen in the first place. He was born and bred in a
place where everyone hates their job, you're supposed to hate your job, that's why its called work. Well, so was I but that is the exact reason I don't want to spend my life doing something I hate! So we had a horrible fight and I'm on the couch. I know I shouldn't say things like that in my blog, but no one reads it anyway, including him. The only time he ever read it was the day I complained that he never reads it! I'm pretty sure that was the last time. That being said, my New Year's Resolution is to keep a gratitude journal. My friend Amanda gave me one for Christmas (its beautiful!) and this is its new purpose. I know how I sound. I sound horrible, self-centered, whiny, depressing...do I have to go on? It truly reflects how I feel on the inside. It feels like a swamp in there. I truly believe God is trying to break through to me. I felt him trying on Sunday. The bog that is my
soul has just gotten so thick. The enemy has found a powerful tool in my husband because its working very effectively. I can't pursue a Master's Degree without his support! I can't even buy a lamp without his opinion!!! I barely made it through a 2 year Nursing program and I did have his support. Imagine a 4-5 year post-graduate degree with no support? Eww. My stomach just turned a little. So, tomorrow I finish my boys' lesson plans for the month to make work go more smoothly and Wednesday morning I report for duty at my new, yet shabby, job. I fear that years may pass in the numbness. I am convinced that keeping this Gratitude Journal will help...I don't know how much, but for right now its the only action plan I have. That and prayer...tons and tons of prayer. Oh, and Roll Tide :)

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

This is my Christmas Post.
Its not fancy and its not even very cheery.
I'm trying my best, but its just not happening...the Christmas spirit, I mean. This year is a different story than years past. I haven't posted since Thanksgiving for a reason. I'm wallowing. I know I'm a little old for pouting, but that's exactly what I've been doing. Christmas has always been a glorious time of year for me. My mom was a Christmas nut and always had the best things planned and the most cheer of anyone I'd ever met. Her house was filled with Christmas carols, almost year-round, and more decorations than the fire code allowed. There was no end to how tacky my mom could get at Christmas. My favorite "Mom" story involves a Christmas Tree sweatshirt that had real lights that really lit-up. Need I say more? I say that she "was" a Christmas nut because she's not with me anymore. I lost her 3 1/2 yrs ago (I lost my dad 5 yrs ago) and to make matters worse, her birthday was
Tuesday. So it's Christmas Eve and I have no parents, no one in my family cares enough to call and check in with me on her birthday-not even my sister, I haven't gotten more than 10 Christmas cards (and one of those is from a business we used this year) even though I sent out 35 of my own , I have three of my own children who are relying on me to create their Christmas memories, I have a Red Velvet cake to bake today for my Husband's family Christmas tonight and no desire to do so, I miss my mom so much I can't breathe and its warm and rainy in Alabama today. Oh, and did I mention that I'm unemployed? Yeah, I got laid off after Thanksgiving. I think wallowing is a teensy bit of a fallacy...I think I have slipped into full out depression. I know that Christmas is supposed to be focused on Jesus and his plan of salvation; I know that I'm supposed to focus on my own family; I don't want
my kids to remember this as the year that Mom didn't care. I know all of these things...I just can't make myself "feel" anything. I think that's the best description-numbness. How am I going to beat it this year? The only way I know how is to cry. I mean it. I need a good cry. I haven't cried about losing my job, missing my mom, feeling forgotten by my family, or anything else in a long time. I just can't muster a good cry. I sat and looked at photo albums, read old letters from Mom, reminisced with the kids, talked to my husband, talked to my best friend about it.....nothing. I really think I'd feel better if I just had a good cry, but it won't come. My brain is too busy telling me about all the things I should be doing instead of being numb and it won't let me just feel. As I am blogging this, a friend from high school posted something on my Facebook. Nothing fancy, just a little
"Hey! You're fabulous and I love you!". I thought I was going to cry, but yet nothing happened. Have I turned into the Grinch? Remember that animation of his little shriveled up, black heart? I think that's me. Maybe not, but it kinda feels that way. I want Christmas cheer and carols and food and cookies for Santa and candy canes in my hot cocoa! I want peace on Earth and Goodwill toward men! I want to be excited about opening presents with my children tomorrow morning! I want.... I want my mom. I feel so selfish for that. I feel like all I can focus on right now is me and what I want, what I'm missing, how I'm feeling when I should be focused on my family. My husband, who has made a huge effort to make me feel okay about being unemployed at Christmas, my children who only have one childhood, my In-Laws who are coming to share Christmas Eve with us in 8 hours, my Best Friend who is
sharing Christmas dinner with us tomorrow and my God, who bent down to Earth to become flesh and blood with the express purpose of dying for my sins. Please, God, forgive my selfishness. Help me. Help me feel love. Help me feel joy. Help me feel anything! I promise to hide the bitterness and pain from my family so as not to ruin their holiday but I'd rather not have it at all. Please release me. Please. Amen. For anyone reading this....I hope I didn't ruin your holiday.

Little Miracles

This is Mr. Funny. Today is his 8th birthday!

We had his party last Saturday because we are leaving this weekend for the holidays. I just wanted to introduce him officially today and wish him a Very Happy Birthday! I can hardly believe that its been 8 years since we met for the first time. I remember every little detail about his puffy little face that night. I also remember the story...our story. I wasn't supposed to have him. He wasn't supposed to make it. I went for my 1st doctor's visit with his pregnancy expecting good news, what I got was not exactly good. To accurately pinpoint a due date, an ultrasound was done. The problem was that they couldn't find a baby. In fact, quite honestly they couldn't find my uterus. After lots of tries and some equipment changes, it was determined that my uterus had fallen backwards. The doctor came in afterwards and as gently as he could explained that this was not good. It made for poor
growing conditions for the baby. He did not think the baby would be receiving adequate blood supply. The chances were very slim that the baby would grow enough to cause the uterus to right itself. He could tell that I wasn't really comprehending what he was saying. He leaned forward, put his hand on my hand and said, " Melanie, do not get used to the idea of being pregnant. I do not think this baby will survive." It knocked the wind out of me. I was numb. I went home and broke the news to my husband and parents. We were devastated. This was not a planned pregnancy by any means but that did not change the fact that from the moment we thought he existed, he did exist to us. Our faith tells us that life is present at conception....this was a tiny person fighting for his life. I felt helpless and lost. I lay on the couch for days and cried. I was completely useless to my husband and two
other children who were 5 and 18 months. I had visions of him in there suffocating for lack of oxygen and blood. A little tiny baby, gasping for air. It was horrible. After a week of being useless, I decided to do something. I went back to see the doctor. I explained that I was useless and needed a job. I needed him to tell me something useful I could do. I just could not sit around and wait for my baby to die. I wouldn't. He understood me. He told me that if I stayed on bedrest, laying on my right side, for the next several weeks there was a chance....a slight one....that the baby might had enough blood supply to grow larger. If it grew large enough the fluid that surrounded it might act like a balloon and right the womb. He stressed to me that the odds were that this was a waste of time, but that at least I could feel like I had done everything I could have. He did caution me that he
did not know how the lack of blood flow at the beginning, crucial time of pregnancy would affect the baby. There was a chance that the baby may be born with some sort of disability. Was I prepared for that? He also told me that he hadn't recommended this before because he thought it might be false hope and he knew I had other children to care for. I understood him but thanked him for humoring me. After 12 weeks of bedrest and three ultrasounds the doctor happily announced that my body was cooperating! We had a healthy baby on the way!! I only spent 3 months on my feet. By my 7th month the baby had grown so large that he was damaging nerves. My legs started going numb and I started falling. Back to bed I went. 10 weeks later, and three days overdue, Mr. Funny arrived in a whirlwind of chaos. After only a 3 hour labor I was holding my third son. The Doctor smiled when he looked at him
and told me, " He's a stubborn little cuss....gets that from you." And he is stubborn. Just like his Momma. He was born perfectly healthy, except for asthma. I pray for a long, healthy and happy life for him. I am blessed to have you, Mr. Funny!

Follow up on the art!

Well, I am learning to send blogs through my texts, so I don't have to log onto the internet every time. Cool, right? Well, the last post was one such post and it didn't exactly go as planned. I had the art dispersed throughout the post and a little blurb about what I liked about each. Since that didn't work so well, let me say a little about each piece here. The second piece is the very famous "Starry Night" by Vincent Van Gogh. I love the swirls and colors....like something out of a dream. Yes, I dream in color. The third painting is "Antibes" by Claude Monet. He is the best known Impressionist, but he is most famous for his flower and garden scenes. I like this one best because for me it kind of blurs the lines between peace and loneliness. The last painting is called "Moonlit Scene in the Environs of Citta Nuova in Illyria" by Claude Joseph Vernet. Long name, beautiful realism. I
just love the warm moonlight and the reflection off of the water. Its very dark, but to me breathtaking. The detail in this one awes me everytime I look at it. If you look closely you can see people working on the dock and having a bonfire. The minute detail in this one is my favorite thing. It looks like a photograph. Well, these are a few of my favorite paintings but by no means is this all of them. Now that I have figured out how to post pictures, I look forward to sharing even more with you!

Art that I love

I love paintings. I love paintings more than any other type of art, save the written word. Paintings tell a story visually. The painting above is called "Christina's World" by Andrew Wyeth. Mr. Wyeth passed away this year. We have one less master because of that. I know that you might look at it and not see anything special, but when I look at it I think of a whole host of things. I first saw it at the LLlibrary of my middle school. It hung in a darker, quiet corner that no one visited. I used to go to that corner to escape my life, read and stare at that painting. I didn't know anything about the painting or it's creator. The nameplate just simply held the painting's name. I've remembered it my whole life and was surprised to discover just this week that it is a very famous painting. In my memory it only belonged to me. See, when I look at the young girl in the painting I see a young
girl who looks like she might be in pain, might be looking at that house and wishing she could get away. That story is completely imagined however because the girl in truth was Mr. Wyeth's neighbor. She had Polio and was disabled. He chose her because of her strength and resilience. I looked at her and saw emotional pain, he looked at her and saw strength. This is so paramount to me, I can barely describe it. To know why, you have to know a little about me. You would have to know, for instance, that I grew up impossibly poor, emotional bankrupt, sexually abused and physically beaten. You also have to know that no one knew. I confided in no one, but when I looked at that painting I thought I could see someone who might understand my pain....someone who might have her own pain and secrets. Mr. Wyeth's "Christina" comforted me the way no one else could at that time in my life. Now, not
all art brings that level of emotional attachment for me, but all paintings evoke something out of me. For instance, I know that I prefer Realism to Impressionism and Impressionism to Abstraction. I actually don't like Abstract Art much at all.

Putting My Foot Down

Ok, its time for the rubber to meet the road. Its time for me to put my (imaginary) money where my mouth is. Its time for me to put up or shut up, and about a million other cliches. I have been obsessing about writing since I was a child. I have been telling those closest to me for at least the last several months that I want to write. I have been blogging for the last half dozen weeks...and I haven't written anything substantial yet. I'm a starter. What does that mean?? It means I have umpteen beginnings and even middles to all the things I have written, yet I have yet to actually finish anything! What is my problem?? I prefer to write on actual paper...its a texture thing. I like the feel of the pen in my hand. I like the smell of the ink and the notebook. I even like my penmanship. The thing that always gets me in the end is time. I have to put the notebook and pen down at some point...I have to come up for air. When I write, I write obsessively. No one else exists. Time stops. I hear no one...nothing. I am in my own little world where these characters alone are the only inhabitants. My thoughts are not my own, they belong to the people in the story. Its a little scary actually, kind of like channelling I would think. But, eventually the bubble pops. I am called to something else. I have to tend to a child, or answer the phone, or cook a meal. One by one my characters dissolve. Their thoughts and problems drift upward, skyward, to the great unknown. They do not exist. I am their only link to the concrete world and I do not even hold them here permanently. I can only hold them here as long as I concentrate on it. The second I become distracted I lose my hold over them. They vanish. Once or twice I have been able to reconnect with them to try to finish what I've started. "Now let me think, where were we??" Its never the same. The second glimpse is not as sharp as the first. Like a copy of a copy. Grainy. Blurry around the edges. There has never been a third glimpse. How can I get anything written and completed in one sitting? Short story, you say? Nope. I'm a long winded gal...detail rich and long winded. I can't say everything I want to say in one sitting. Anybody who has ever talked to me on the phone knows that first hand! So, how do I push past this (hopefully) temporary hurdle and actually finish what I start? The short answer to that is: I don't know. What I do know is that I have the desire to. I have the willingness to. Now I have the reason to. November is National Novel Writing Month, known popularly as NaNoWriMo. I just like saying NaNoWriMo, don't you? The premise is to write a novel in 30 days. 50,000 words in 30 days. Good Gravy, what a goal. I've never finished any fiction that I've ever started...and that is going to change. Now. I am already 3 days behind. That's almost 2000 words a day. What about the days I work? Can I possibly do this? I don't know, but I know that I want to. Sweet Lord, I want to. You know what? Its very likely I will fail, but I'm not going to let that stop me from trying. I am asking for encouragment. I am asking for prayer. I may even be asking for caffeine and chocolate before its over because I'll be writing like a crazy person. The finished product will probably be a poor excuse for a story. That's not really the point though. The point, for me at least, is to finish it. To actually finish what I've started would be the best early Christmas present I could give myself. Here's to an early Christmas and the end of an unwelcome era. Stop by and ask me how its going this month. It helps me to know there is someone who wants to see me succeed.

Psalm 119 - 20 Day Challenge: Day # 4

I'm such a bad Blogger. Its a good thing no one that I know of has been trying to follow my 20 Day Challenge, cause if they had been I have abandoned them! I have not blogged in about two weeks now. I have been very ill. For the first whole week, I couldn't even get off the couch, much less blog a coherent thought. (No, I do not have the Swine Flu) The second week was recovery, but then I had a load of make up housework to do. So, with no further ado, here is Day #4.


Passage:

Psalm 119:33-40

God, teach me lessons for living so that I can stay the course.
Give me insight so I can do what you tell me- my whole life one long, obedient response.
Guide me down the road of your commandments; I love traveling this freeway!
Give me a bent for your words of wisdom, and not for piling up loot.
Divert my eyes from toys and trinkets, invigorate me on the pilgrim way.
Affirm your promises to me-
Promises made to all who fear you.
Deflect the harsh words of my critics- but what you say is always good.
See how hungry I am for your counsel; preserve my life through your righteous ways.


What I got out of it:

A bent for your words of wisdom.

My prayer:

Father, please have mercy on my sinner's nature. I ask for "a bent for your words of wisdom". Instead of having a thirst for attention, stuff or earthly security, instill in me a love of your wisdom, a knack for understanding your word, a deep-seated need to be intimately connected to you. Bring me Lord the peace that I know only time spent with you can bring. Amen.