This semester is trying to kill me. On my first day of english, I found out that we were reading “Little Red Riding Hood.” Fine by me, right? However, we were reading the original version, written in 1697 (along with other 17th century versions). It is all about sex. And staying away from “wolves” that cause trouble, but this trouble is being “eaten.” I remember the first day I came to the class, I so desperately wanted to walk out. Things like this make me so mad. But praise the Lord, we are finally done with that story.
But now, oh NOW, in my other english class, we are discussing slavery. When you are discussing slavery, the terms “slave” and “master” get thrown around a lot. I don’t like that… Not to mention, one of the books we are discussing deals with a master trying to get his female slave to submit sexually to him. I hate this so much. I have been trying to work on an essay for this class and for about the past hour and I have not been able to focus because of this. It makes me think about everything… I hate it so much.
During times like this, I really have to lean on the Lord. My flesh so deeply desires to have a male to run and talk to for the physical support and comfort, but I know that’s not what I need. I need to run to God and pour out everything to Him. He is the only one Who can bring healing: mind, body, and spirit. God, I need You… Te necesito otra vez. Sometimes I wish I could fall asleep, wake up in Heaven, and just be there, lying in Jesus’ arms. Oh, how wonderful would that be! Nothing could ever bother me after an encounter like that. I know I have to trust in the Lord and really study His Word but of course, I’m at war. My spirit says to go to the Lord. He is my strength and my Strong Tower. My flesh says to go talk to someone. Someone who can make me “feel better.” Don’t get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with going to a man or woman of God for help. Goodness gracious, I don’t know where I would be without some of the lovely ladies I go to. But something’s telling me to go back to someone who will give me the same temporary satisfaction that requires a daily fill-up. No. Absolutely not. Seriously, ew. But something inside me wishes that there was a male that I could talk to. Someone who knows what respect is, gives it, deserves it, and knows that I do too. But I can’t tell if that’s selfish or not. I can’t tell if that’s my own fleshly desire or if that really should be my go-to for godly counsel. I don’t know. Doesn’t matter anyway, I guess.
Leaning on the Lord. I can’t let this attack take me.