Children are a gift from the Lord; the fruit of the womb, a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children born in one's youth. Blessed are they whose quivers are full. They will never be shamed contending with foes at the gate. ~Psalm 127:3-5

Monday, August 16, 2010

Praying for the Crazies

It must be me. I mean, it has to be. I either have a sign on my back, my forehead, somewhere where I can't see it...or there is this air about me, a scent (eau de crazy?), or maybe a mannerism. But whatever it is, I think it's safe to say that I am a magnet for crazy people. And people with drama...which, incidentally, can go hand-in-hand but does not always.

The not-quite-so-funny thing is, I have a soft spot for these people. And I'm not sure if it's a result of their draw to me or if it comes the chicken...or is it the egg? Whatever. All I know is that I am not only a magnet for these people who don't really function completely on a normal level but I am often hurt by them as well. I'm kind of sick of it, actually.

But then I am reminded of something I have had a slight inkling of my entire life. A really wonderful lady in my life said just the other day that God probably sends these types of people to me (and some of my family members, as the attracting of weirdos seems to run in my family) to get the gentle acceptance they need. Wow. Really? Okay, I digress. I am being used. Apparently. Lets just hope it is only by God. I don't like being a puppet on a string unless I know Whose hands are holding the other end.

Not so long ago, I was a crazy person...with lots of drama. I didn't have someone in my life that wanted to give me gentle acceptance and point me in the right direction to a sane and normal life centered in God and His plans for me. I mean, I had my family but there was only so much they could do. There was no random person I seemed drawn to, even if I wasn't sure for what purpose. There was only me, a crazy person flying around the atmosphere buzzing in and out of other's lives, smacking into glass walls sometimes, searching for even just a sweet morsel of an answer to my life's questions....a meaning to my existence, a purpose for why I'm here. And there were people I used to get what I wanted. And there were people I'm sure I hurt.

So here I am, years later, on the flip side. There have been people who have used me, some even just recently. There have been people who have hurt me, some who continue to do so. And the only thing I can think to do is pray. I pray for them because they obviously need it. I know a lot about where they are. And I pray for myself because I need it. I need the strength and wisdom to deal with these people with grace and love. I need the right words breathed into my ears by the only One who knows what they are, as well as the correct force and direction to help them get from my ears to my mouth unadulterated. If I am being used, I want to be used correctly. Otherwise, I might go crazy..... again.

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