Patience and Me

Lately I've been feeling kinda...pathetic. I do things without thinking (which has yet to prove useful), break a lot of little promises to myself (which really add up), then there's always the self-conciousness of the three pimples on my chin among other silly things. So I guess I've been feeling like a teenager (nothing too unnatrual I hope).

I vented in my actual jounal about it and then kinda wished I didn't because if my posterity ever read it I'm afraid they'd say something along the lines of, "I'm related to this space case?" To which I would reply, concerning my three new companions, "Actually, its face-case."

My friend told me at a recent slumberparty that in China, blondes (like me) are considered lucky, to which I jokingly replied, "I beg to differ."

So while I was hopelessly spiraling down this path of...patheticness, I decided to go to a Halloween-themed church dance. I went dressed as a witch and actually felt pretty confident (meaning I asked the new kid his name, asked a couple of wall-plants to dance, and jumped into just about every line dance there was). But I think that was due to something that came to me in my car as I was driving there, muttering angrily to myself over some other choice that lacked the sufficient amount of brain cells to follow through successfully.

Then all of a sudden, a shred of rare intelligence came to me and I realized that though I was striving to follow my Savior's example in every which way or form, there was one I was forgetting--patience. If after the trillions upon trillions of mistakes I've made, I can still feel His warming arms around me after a heart-filled prayer and if my family and friends--whom I also look up to--are so patient and loving towards me than maybe I should follow their example and also be patient with me.