Promises. . .

I bought a buch of Dove® Promises to put in my candy jar at work because my coworkers LOVE them. Today I fell victim and actually ate one (to be honest, two). My promise really got to me: Don’t think so much about it.

How could the people at Dove know me so well? If you know me well, you know I’m a thinker, a planner, sometimes a worrier (the one trait I did not want to inherit from my mother). Last night I left work and went home. Where I lay on my bed and worried and cried for about 2 hours. I just felt beat down yesterday. Nothing tremendously horrible happened yesterday, but when I left work, I was exhausted. I know myself, and I also know that I need a break soon. Work has been very tedious and very stressful for the last few weeks. And if I don’t get some space and distance and perspective soon, I’ll be spending more time in tears. Yesterday I felt underappreciated by my coworkers, my friends, my family, my dog, even God. I asked a friend to go out to dinner simply because I didn’t want to be alone. She declined, which resulted in more sobbing. I felt alone, which I usually don’t mind, except every once in awhile when all my friends with roomies start relating spur of the moment fun things they went and did while I was at home watching tv mindlessly. (I’m not saying all this because I want people to invite me to go along everytime they do something or make them feel sorry for me in some crazy backhanded way. I’m just writing about how I felt because writing about it is a catharsis for me.) I’m rarely uncomfortable living alone. I like it. But last night, I was lonely and felt like no one on this earth really knew me.

I felt like God wasn’t listening and spent some time saying, “God, I can’t do this alone stuff anymore. I don’t like it. I’m tired of being single. I want someone who really knows me, the real me.” Even as I said those words out loud in front of my newly repaired washing machine, I knew the answer; I heard God speak in my heart. “Mandy, I know you like that. I love you like that.” And yesterday, in my despair, I replied, “I know it. I know it. Help me believe it.” And today, the sadness is still there. I’m still tired of myself and a lot of the strain of my work, but I’m choosing to rejoice in today, the day He has made. And that’s a tough choice today. But I have to rely on Him, who I know I can trust. I’m not forgettable or underappreciated in His eyes. I am His. And that’s something!