“The path of the righteous is like the morning sun, shining ever brighter till the full light of day.”  Proverbs 4:18


Last Saturday was a rough day.  As I’ve been taught, I reached out to one of my resources, and wound up in a conversation with a man named Archie.  I poured out my woes and lamented the distance I feel from my creator. His response was a very simple
question:  “When was the last time you thanked God?”

                                                                              *   *   *

Six twenty-four this morning, I am awake.  I left the windows open last night, so my apartment is chilly.  Quickly I go to the kitchen, barely noticing the rays of sunlight that kiss the landscape outside.  I grab a bottle of seltzer water and a handful of dark chocolate covered cranberries, and head back to the warmth of my bed.  As I weave myself into the blankets that are still warm from my body, the realization of sunshine outside slowly sinks into my sleepy mind.  Finally, after several days of clouds and rain, the sun has returned!  I reach up and pull the cord to lift the blinds, and a beautiful painting floods me. Although my back window faces west, the sun knows my desire, so it finds a way to reach me.

It is a diner-counter for the senses.  
 
Beyond my back porch, the yard is shaded, mostly by maples, my favorite.  But the sun wove its way throughout the foliage, highlighting leaves set against the sky.  There are more shades of green than I knew existed.  There are golds and coppers, reds, browns, and grays, and other colors that I cannot describe.  I don’t see the squirrel himself as much as I see the movement of the branches and the dance of each green leaf against blue. I love to experience the effects of what I can’t see, because it assures me of what is truly there.

Morning sounds compose a choir, cheerful and practical; passing cars and birdsong, my neighbor overhead, running water and preparing for the day.  My window is open just a few inches, enough to let the breeze in.  I feel the coolness of it on my face while the rest of me is wrapped in cotton and fleece.  It’s an exhilarating feeling, warm and cozy, fresh and cool.  It soothes me, and my mind is peaceful.

This is an opportunity for me to work on the daydreams that I build in my mind, the places I go when I need rest.  The outer landscape teases out and builds upon the inner sanctuary. There is a small house in my head, nestled between a creek and a freight train.  The day has its schedule, and my favorite part is in the evening when the train rumbles slowly by.  Maybe later I’ll go dip my hands in the earth and grow something green.  But for this moment, I relish the smell of sweet grass as I sit on the front porch with a glass of lemonade.  This place is the piece I can take with me wherever I go.

Back in reality, I am wrapped in this gentle joy: that which is in my mind and that which lay outside my window.  Seven o’clock approaches and I am tired.  I wish to drift back to sleep; it comes and I allow it. 

Thank you, Father God…

                                                                              *   *   *

Archie’s question to me on Saturday was so simple, and yet profound.  The question, combined with the beauty I experience this morning brought a realization: it is easier to bear the complexity of tribulation when it is held up against the simplicity of gratitude.


“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures.
He leads me beside still waters.
He restores my soul.
He leads me in paths of righteousness for His name’s sake." 
                                                         Psalm 23:1-3  ESV

I recently finished up a one month program of group counseling and mental health education.  During the processing group, I had to rate my mood, anxiety, and energy. Mood is rated on a scale of one to ten, with one being the “worst day of my life,” five being middle ground, and ten, feeling like a million bucks!  Anxiety; one is no anxiety, ten is extremely anxious.  And energy from one to ten, with one being no energy, five feeling good, and ten, bouncing off the walls with mania.

This morning, as I write this post, my mood is a three, anxiety is a three, and energy is a two.

But, being the feisty girl that I am, I decided to invent another scale: stubborn determination.  Today, my stubborn determination is about a six!

I’ve been pretty sick for the past month. Constant, daily nausea, light-headedness, exhaustion, and intense body aches, more than I’m used to, on top of the depression, mood cycling, and anxiety that is part of my daily life.  There is the lack of appetite, poor sleep, facial pain from the stressed clenching of my jaw in my sleep, and confusion, poor comprehension, and continued memory loss.  There’s been an upper respiratory infection, side effects from medication, talk of allergies and asthma, and possible kidney disease, which has me most on edge. Blood work, urine tests, an ultrasound, Litho-Links, and most likely, an upcoming CT scan.  Group therapy, individual counseling, medication management, support groups, visits to my PCP, nephrologist, and the ER for breathing problems.  Whew! It’s no wonder my energy is so low!! So much of this is stress.

As I sit here in my Burrow, typing away and enjoying the morning sun through an east-facing window, I’m listening to ‘Suds in the Bucket’ by Sara Evans.  Oh, Zac Brown Band just came on.  I’m thinking about how much I miss dancing and want to do it again.  I’m thinking about how much I miss being out west, and have a desire to learn horse-back riding.  And I think about how much I want my health back.

I think about my Mama, who dealt with a lot of illness herself.  I ache for her, because I’m beginning to understand, if only a tiny bit, what she’d gone through, and how she may have felt.  While I wish she’d never experienced such suffering, I can’t take it away from her.  But I can get myself healthy in her honor.  It’s not just a matter of taking medication, going for the appropriate tests, eating right and reaching out for support.  Those things are crucial.  But there is also the matter of digging deep and growing the seeds of
stubborn determination that God planted in my heart.  It’s a matter of surrendering the fear and apathy that I battle.  It’s putting on music to sway to in my chair, texting friends and getting out of the house every day.  It’s not giving up.

Thank you, Mama, for the beautiful stubbornness that you passed on to me!

Luis Fonsi, one of my favorite Latin singers is on now with a song that means a lot of different things to me; ‘No Me Doy Por Vencido.’  Translation: ‘I Don’t Give Up.’

Maybe later I’ll but on some Newsboys and Luis Fonsi and try to dance a little in the kitchen!

Oh, and one more thing:  I wrote a blog post!  Victory!! J

“Love is patient, love is kind.  
It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.
It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth.  
It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres."
                                                    1 Corinthians 13:4-7 NIV



"There is no love without forgiveness, and there is no forgiveness without love."
                                                                                                                Bryant H. McGill

“This is what God the Lord says – He who created the Heavens and stretched them out, who spread out the earth and all that comes with it, who gives breath to His people and life to those who walk on it.”  Isaiah 42:5 (NIV)

I had an experience this morning, and it has led me to pose a question to you:

Do you have times where you are so overwhelmed by despair, that you forget to breathe, you forget to reach out for help?


My cellphone rang at 5:50 this morning. This was a strange occurrence because I typically keep my cellphone turned off while I’m sleeping to prevent being awakened from the rest that I need.  It was the local cab company wondering why I had not come out to meet the cab that had come to take me to the hospital.  Apparently an error had been made, as they had been directed to send a cab for me although I did not have an appointment requiring me to be at the hospital so early.  He called it a no-show.  How can it be a no-show when I had not made a request to anyone for an early morning pick-up.  I was highly irritated, not just because I was awakened from sleep (which was partially my fault for forgetting to turn off my phone) but also because an injustice had been committed against me.

Ok, maybe the feeling of injustice was a bit of a stretch, but at ten minutes to six on a Thursday morning, after being awakened from much needed rest, I wasn’t feeling entirely reasonable.  I tuned off my phone and attempted to settle back into sleep.  But my mind had other plans.

For the next hour and a half, I ruminated, at a rapidly increasing rate, about the challenges I have been struggling with lately, the many injustices that I perceive have come up against me.  I felt indignant, and as my mind worked away at this clump of difficulties, I became more and more agitated.

Despair began to flood in like the sudden break of a dam, releasing millions of gallons of fear, anger and frustration into my soul.  

I have allowed myself to believe many years of lies.  I have believed that things would never get better; I have believed that I wasn’t allowed to get better, or that I had no right to.  I have accepted that I am never going to be cured of my illnesses, but that doesn’t mean I have to stay stuck in despair and hopelessness.

In prayer, I tried to seek God, but all that stolen space in my head was a barrier to hearing from Him.  Refusing to be deterred, I began to dig into the sources that help to remind me of His grace and His mercy.  By chance, I stumbled across several sources of inspiration, and I heard Him speak loud and clear!  He told me that I am not alone and that I am not unworthy of reaching out for help when I need it.

I feel relief, I feel like I can breathe. But I also feel an indignant determination.  I don’t want to live in the many prisons that I feel locked up in.  I refuse to let all these things beat me down.  Where will I find strength?  I don’t know at this moment; God will bring Himself to me at the appointed time. 
I must not forget, it is by God that I breathe.

As I write this post, I feel the heaviness of exhaustion.  My eyes are heavy, my thoughts are slow.  I feel like I can finally fall asleep, a time to let go of the many things that attack my mind, a time to be refreshed
and ready to face the challenges and embrace the victories that will come with this day.

It is so easy sometimes to get ourselves worked up by believing the lies we hear in our minds.  How do we combat this mental attack that we allow to take us hostage so that we forget to breathe?

A few evenings ago, I attempted to do my daily Bible reading.  I was only able to read one paragraph because my mind was plagued by despair and fear, and I had no idea what I was reading because I could not focus.  But I did notice the last sentence:

“Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.”  Deuteronomy 1:21 (NIV)

I closed my Bible, turned off the light and settled down into the blankets.  I fell into a peaceful sleep.  One paragraph, one simple sentence.  That was all I needed to absorb God’s peace.

For a large part of my life, I have lived in a prison.  I am locked up behind bars of self-judgment, shame, guilt, and self-loathing.  I beat myself up.  I call myself names.  I don’t give myself any credit.  I put myself down more than anyone has ever put me down.  I hate this prison that I’ve so zealously built around myself.  But when I am my own parole board, the chance of release feels hopeless.


It seems that, to a certain extent, most of us are a little hard on ourselves sometimes.  I think it’s a part of
being human.  But there are some of us who are buried so much deeper in the belief that we are no good. For one reason or another, it seems there is nothing we can do to pass our own inspection.  Sometimes we’ve been hurt so much by others that we believe that this is how we deserve to be treated.  Or it’s that we are ashamed of who we are.  Would we treat another person with such cruelty?  No way!

Is there release from this self-built prison? I am determined to believe that there is.  But I don’t know how to grant myself freedom.  Why?  The answer is disturbing: I don’t believe that I am worth it.

The only way for me to even begin to deal with this is to take a spiritual approach to this issue.  God loves me, and by His hands, “...I am fearfully and wonderfully made;” (Psalm 134:14 NIV)  But there’s a little bit more to that verse:  “I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;”  If I don’t believe that, and I don’t trust in how He has shaped me, then I can’t praise Him for it.  Yes, I am human, I’m not perfect, I sin.  But God loves me.  End of story.

I have a long road ahead of me.  With God’s guidance, I need to learn WHY the way I am treating myself has to change.  I need to learn WHAT changes need to be made.  And I need to BELIEVE that I am worth the work it will take to make those changes.

If you struggle with this imprisonment, my question to you is this:  Why do you not believe that you deserve to love yourself?

Leftovers in the refrigerator; they are an unpleasant nuisance. Why did I wait so long to clean them out?  Why did I put them in there in the first place?  What do I do with them?

Yesterday, I sat among friends, people who relate to my struggles.  I made a confession: I admitted that there are things buried deep inside my heart, things that have not seen daylight in many years.  These things are the mistakes I’ve made, the sins and lies, the ways in which I’ve failed and ways that I’ve hurt others.  These things, over time, have formed a toxic mass and that mass has sprouted its own blossoms.  But these are not the sweet, cheerful blossoms of crocus, tulips, or hyacinth. They are blossoms of shame, guilt, mistrust, and secrets.   Even as I write these words, I feel exposed and vulnerable.

I think of it like that container of leftovers in the refrigerator that has been sitting there for far too long.  I
know there is something unspeakable growing in there.  There are choices in dealing with this problem. 
I can throw the entire container away and not deal with it.  I can leave it in there, hidden in the back behind the milk.  Or I can take a deep breath and hold it as I slowly peel off the cover of the container and face the contents…

But unlike the container in the fridge, what is in the heart is a toxic mass that sits deep down inside and whispers out of its hiding place.  Whispers of “you are a terrible person,” and “you aren’t good enough,” and “what if people knew these things, what would they think?”  Those whispers wind their way upward, up through my heart, up through my soul, and they poison everything they touch along the way; my hope, my sense of self-worth, my dreams.

So many of us have things that live deep inside, things that we refuse to take out and deal with.  Our refusal comes from fear.  What is more difficult: to live the rest of our lives carrying this weight and suffering the consequences of that?  Or digging deep down and unearthing this unspeakable burden?  The potential consequence of keeping it hidden is remaining in the prison this burden creates.  The potential
consequence of bringing it forth and dealing with it is freedom.  And from there we can sprout beautiful
things!

Now that I’ve admitted that these things exist within me, I am held accountable.  I know I need to clean this burden out of its hiding place in my heart; part of me even longs to do so, to bring it up out of the dark, into the fresh air and sunlight. Then, of course, I must begin the process of dealing with it.  How can I truly love, or find healing and peace if this burden takes up the space that belongs to something good, and pure, and loving.

It is time to clean out the refrigerator.

“For I cried out to Him for help, praising Him as I spoke.  If I had not confessed the sin in my heart, the Lord would not have listened.  But God did listen!  He paid attention to my prayer.  Praise God, who did not ignore my prayer or withdraw His unfailing love from me.” Psalm 66:17-20 NLT

“…we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.”  Romans 5:3-4

This scripture has always bugged me; for years it’s bugged me.  I could just never get it.  Having multiple mental-health diagnoses and living daily with symptoms, most days are a trial.  A little known fact is that depression not only affects people mentally and emotionally, but physically as well.  Aches, pains and lethargy are very common with depression, and often overlooked.  So on not-so-good days, I am fighting not only against depressed emotions and compromised mental functioning, but also an aching body and physical lethargy.  Clinical depression and everything that comes with it are my trial. How in the world am I going to rejoice in that?

I had an appointment this morning, and it was stressful.  I was already very sluggish.  I’d taken medication last night to help me get to sleep, but the little white pill seemed to want to keep me in bed.  I woke up feeling like I was made out of steel, filled with concrete and all my joints had rusted and stuck.  Add to that the clouds, cold, and impending wet weather, and the fact that I didn’t want to go to the appointment in the first place.  So things were not looking real good.

The appointment consisted of sitting in a chair for nearly an hour and a half, unsuccessfully trying to access my memory, and attempting to make numbers add up properly (math is NOT my strong point). By the time I got up to leave, and went outside into the cold, I felt like I couldn’t move.  But I had a mission, and I was determined to complete this mission.  I needed to walk for one hour as my daily exercise.  The walk from the office where my appointment was to my house is only about twenty minutes, but I could use the Railroad Park and the Riverwalk to make it longer.  But as I considered which route to take, I thought about the hills and the flights of stairs that I would have to tackle.  Considering my melancholy mood, the desire to turn my brain off, and the rusted steel and concrete that I had to work with, I didn’t know how I was going to accomplish such a task, never mind seeking joy in the process.  So I had a goal: endorphins!  If I could get going just enough to get the endorphins flowing, that would lift my mood and propel me the rest of the way.

My route began with a flight of stairs that leads up to the bridge to cross the Androscoggin River.  By the time I got to the top of those stairs, my body wanted to curl up into a ball.  I couldn’t catch my breath, and one of my feet was literally dragging on the ground. I was "swimming against the current," and I was exhausted.  I felt broken, and I began to get angry as I thought about “rejoice in our sufferings.” I started to resent the clinical depression that plagues me.  Self-pity began to take over, and my mind screamed “WHY ME?!”  I got that annoying little voice in my head:

“Jennie, you don’t have to do this, you do have another option.  You can just go across the street and sit on the bench and wait for the bus,” it said.

I had a choice to make.  And I made it.

“Oh yeah?  You wanna see my joy in suffering?!  Watch this!”

I cranked up the volume on my Walkman as an upbeat Newsboys song came on, and I began to walk in time to the music, which sped me up quite a bit.  I walked across that bridge, head held high, heart pounding, legs screaming from the effort. It took about ten minutes until the endorphins took over and made the walk a piece of cake.  But it was those ten minutes that were so crucial.

Ten minutes; six hundred seconds; one sixth of an hour.  A fire began to burn in me.  I heard an excellent quote yesterday: “Don’t tell God how big your mountain is; tell the mountain how big your God is!”  I thought about that quote, and I thought about how awesome and mighty and powerful my God is!  And I
found myself thanking Him for this trial, and this chance to persevere!  I thanked Him for allowing the depression and the bipolar and the anxiety in me, because that’s what is teaching me to trust Him, to lean on Him, and to praise Him.  THAT was the joy IN the trial!!

After that the endorphins kicked in.

As I write this post, it has been two hours since my walk, and I am still feeling good.  I’m just a little bit achy, but my mood is a whole lot higher than it was. Will I feel this way all the way into tonight?  Probably not. That’s the nature of the illness and I accept that.  I am making the choice to enjoy this good period as long as it lasts; maybe I’ll get a little housework done!  But, do you know what IS going to last through tonight and for the rest of my life?  The joy of knowing that God is getting me through my challenges, He is healing me and He is showing Himself through me! AMEN!

Having joy in the trial is not about FEELING joy, but about KNOWING where I get my strength.  The knowing is the fire the burns inside me.  My faith, my hope, my perseverance, and ultimately, my joy, all come from God, and for that I thank Him and praise Him!

I encourage you, my brothers and sisters, to look at the positive aspects of every challenge you face.  They are there if you look hard enough.  Use those things to empower you to swim against the current.  And rejoice!

So let’s try this again:

“…we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.”  Romans 5:3-4

NOW I get it!
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Check out the newest page on A Friend In The Storm: God Is My Strength

Want to know a little secret about me?  I don’t always pay attention!  If you know me, you won’t be surprised!

When I was seventeen years-old, I was diagnosed with depression.  When I was nineteen, I was diagnosed with cyclothymia, a mild form of bipolar. Somewhere in my mid to late twenties, I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder - type 2, anxiety disorder, and post-traumatic stress disorder.   Guess when I actually acknowledged and accepted those diagnoses?  When I was thirty-four!  I wasted years in denial, precious time that could have been used to start learning about these conditions, and learning how to live with them.

Two and a half years later, I practice the three A’s: acknowledgment, acceptance, and awareness.

Acknowledgement– Very simple: I have a mental illness.

Acceptance– This is a huge step!  I am honest with myself and others.  I have an illness, it is part of my life, and I realize that denying these facts will only lead to problems.

Awareness– I have a daily mission: to stay aware of my moods, my thoughts, and my attitudes.  From here, I can make informed decisions on what needs to be done in regards to my health and functioning, every day.

For me, awareness is extremely important, and is the key to being able to function, even if that functioning is limited.  It starts with noticing and naming my mood, and understanding the why.  From there, it requires work to keep regulated.  Medication and therapy can only do so much.  The rest is up to me.  During times
when I’m not staying aware and not taking action, I can’t get out of bed.

In the past, non-awareness has led to a lot of pain and heartache.  I would sort of wander around with my head in the clouds.  But the problem was that the rest of my body was on earth, blindly traversing the trials of life.  There was a separation, with nothingness in the empty space.  It’s like a car rolling down the road with no driver; it runs up over the curb, mows down a mailbox and a bed of begonias, and parks itself in somebodies living room.  Not good. 
 
Awareness is a choice that I make, every moment of every day.  I could choose to insert my cognitive functioning in the clouds, but I pay for that choice.  Choosing awareness does not mean I am going to have a fantastic day, or that I am guaranteed not to crash mentally and go hide in bed.  And it doesn’t mean I have control of my moods.  What it means is that I have control of my responses and actions.  Awareness is good.  Awareness makes me feel like I have a chance.

I believe that these principles can also be applied by anyone who does not have a mental health diagnosis.  EVERYONE goes through difficult circumstances at some point. It is important to acknowledge and accept that trials are a part of life, and awareness helps us through.

                                                                         * * *

My awareness for today:  I woke up feeling physically lethargic and light-headed, emotionally numb, and mentally mildly motivated.  I’m going to take this little sliver of motivation and run with it!  I have plans for some reading and writing, which always give me a feeling of belonging.  This afternoon I am going to practice some music, because that helps me to feel competent. And I have plenty of healthy, happy meals planned, which will help with energy.  As for the emotional aspect, I am a little nervous to delve into this. I feel this way when there are difficult feelings underneath, or when my moods fluctuate and I just feel drained. I think I have a little of both going on today.  I’ll have to talk myself into a some journal-writing later.  Will these skills guarantee that I will have a perfect day? No.  But it is better than allowing anything to send me to a place from which I cannot return.

What do you do to keep yourself aware?

“Come near to God and He will come near to you.” 
James 4:8

Yesterday was a great day at church!  I got to fellowship with my church family.  I joyfully participated in worshipping the Lord, which is always my favorite part of each service.  And I heard a lot of really good things that I carried with me throughout my
day.  One thing that I came away with was that fact that God desires our worship, and that He wants for us to be close to Him.  By the end of the day, this concept filled me completely.

For the past several months, I’ve been feeling a deeper
depression than I am used to.  The past week has been especially awful, because the despair and anxiety have taken
over, leaving me tearful and hopeless nearly every moment. 
I’ve been reaching out to others, and while I am in contact with them, I am distracted from the despair.  But as soon as I am on my own again, it comes right back.  The only other time that I don’t feel like I’m drowning is when I am reading my Bible, or praying.  I read three to five devotionals and a Bible reading plan on a daily basis.  I am immersed in God, most of the time.

Yesterday, after coming home from church, doing housework while listening to worship music, and cooking supper, I decided to settle down for some quiet time.  As I did, I felt the sadness come in again.  It’s like a weight that drags me down, stealing my breath and my hope.  I decided to reach out to a source of spiritual encouragement (www.groundwire.net - excellent resource!) but as I reached for my computer, something halted my hand. I thought that I would try being in God’s word first, and seeing if that would help, and then, if I still needed a caring ear, I would reach out.  So for the next hour, I read a devotional, and a few chapters in the Bible.  During that time, I was distracted in the best kind of way!  Despair and hopelessness were banished from my heart.  I felt peace, I felt like I could breathe, and I felt safe and protected.

But after I finished reading, the despair came back, and it frustrated me to the point of tears.  So I reached out.  I had an intense conversation that, for the next two hours, kept me distracted again. And it led me to a place that I so desperately needed.  My spiritual coach drove home a very important point; one that I knew, but hadn’t yet taken to heart.  The point was this:  God desires worshippers, and he wants for us to come close to Him.  Notice that I didn’t say that wants to come close to us.  It is our decision to do so; we have free will. That is a beautiful thing, but the decision is ours.  And so, by the end of that conversation, I’d made a very big decision: for the remainder of 2013, I will change my life in such a way that it is filled, more than ever, with God’s presence.  I will soak myself in Him, and I will ask Him to teach me to worship Him in a way that I never dreamed possible!

I have a lot of distractions in my life, and a lot of idols.  Facebook is one of them.  And so, in the next few days, I will be deleting my Facebook account.  I will use my computer only for studying God’s word, finding resources, and staying in contact with friends, and readers of this blog.  I will learn about Jesus, and I'll dedicate every moment of every day to God, soaking up His love, His grace, and His mercy.  And I will write to honor God, using my experiences as I go on this journey to reach out to others.

I feel excited!  For the remainder of today, I am looking forward to studying and learning scripture so that I can tuck it into my heart, keeping it to be called upon at any moment.  Brain chemicals or hormones may be doing their own thing, but my heart is not.  My heart is seeking God, and His mercy.

So, friends, I pose to you some questions:  What things make you feel loved and safe and protected?  To what do you turn when you need peace and comfort?  And are those things that you will take with you into eternity?

God’s blessings to all!

March 30, 2013, 9:30pm

I live in an area where there are three bridges that go from my city to the city that lies to the east, across the river.  I go for a walk that I call my "three bridge walk."  The walk is never the same, winding back and forth each time in different formations.  Today my walk started by taking me across the green bridge, then up to the Railroad Park on the east side of the river.  I came back across the footbridge, an old railroad trestle, and walked partway up the River Walk.  For some reason, I turned around and walked back to the trestle and back to the park.  I went through the park, up to the bridge near the Veterans Park and the Great Falls.  Finding a bench back on the east side of the river, in my own city, I sat beside the falls.

I stayed on that bench for a while, watching the water come over the falls.  Snow and ice are melting up north, and so the falls have burst open, and the noise of all that rushing water is incredible!  This is my favorite time of year to sit and watch the falls, and so it is a regular, often daily event for me.

Today was a beautiful day.  The temperature got up into the 50's, and the sun was not shy.  People came out to run and walk in the parks, skateboarding, riding bicycles.  There was a group playing soccer in the Railroad Park.  I saw people out on motorcycles.  I even saw a family cooking on a gas grill out behind their apartment building, with many family members sitting in lawn chairs, dressed in shorts and t-shirts.  It was as if the world had finally decided that there had been enough snow and cold this past winter, and they were going to just skip spring and dive headlong into summer.  I crossed the paths of many people as I took my meandering walk through the parks and back and forth across the river.

All those people whose paths I crossed this afternoon, and yet I still feel so isolated, so apart from everyone.  Am I invisible?  Does anyone actually see me?  Do I have special invisibility powers?  I'm not holed up in my house; I'm doing my best to get out, to be among others.  Sometimes I think, that by some unknown force, other people cannot see me at all.  Or, if they do see me, is it that they see nothing about me?  Is it only me, believing that I am unseen, and taking it to heart?

Heavenly Father, do You have a purpose for me amid so many thousands of people, where I yet feel so alone?  I love You, and thank You, my Lord, for all that You give me!  You give me life, and hope, and You've sacrificed for me!  I praise You, Father God! I praise You for Your greatness, Your faithfulness, and Your amazing love!  Please forgive me, Lord, for all the ways I fall short, for my sins, for the ways in which I let You down!  I ask You, my Lord, show me my purpose, show me how I have any value, because I don't believe that I do.  I don't believe that anything good will ever come from my life.  Do You have a use for me, Lord?  Will You send me Your Holy Spirit to guide me, and teach me what it is You want me to do?  I thank You and praise You, Heavenly Father, and I ask all these things in the name of Your Son, Jesus Christ, Amen.