Probably what I miss most about living with my dad is him cooking breakfast for me. I just can’t master cooking omelets like he can. Dads have a way of doing things only dads can do. No matter how good you get, they’ll still be good-er. Why? Because they are dads.
I’ve been thinking. My problem is I’m just too graphic for what this world is accustomed to. I think Robin Williams must have felt that way too, some what. You can’t be the life of the party all the time. Eventually you wear out. Of the party, and, yourself.
I just feel too graphic. Too sexual, too “look at me”, too curious and concerned and contemplative of what other people think. I say things like,
“It doesn’t matter if you don’t like me because I already like me,”
which is just the Lonely talking. It’s me trying to be bigger than I am. I am really so so small.
There is a verse in Hebrews where it says the Lord is not unable to sympathize with our weaknesses and our needs. He is a high priest, who can do a lot.
So what is your weakness? Is it wanting more than you have?
Maybe you feel like you sold out on your dreams to fix glasses instead. Oh wait, that’s just me.
Maybe you carry a deep dark secret that’s not that dark and not that deep but still sucks because it defines how you see yourself on a daily basis.
Maybe you have a blister on your pinky toe the size of Minneapolis. Oh wait. That’s just me too.
My point is this–do I have one?
How determinedly unhappy are you?