…what I want to hear…and then I tell myself I don’t want to hear it. By then, it’s already too late, and I’ve managed only to dig myself deeper into this hole I tell myself I want to come out of.
…what I don’t want to hear, and then I use it as an excuse to not do anything about it…”Oh, at least I know what the problem is”, and then I tell myself that’s progress.
…that I’m changing, perhaps finally growing up. After all, if I can perceive the lies I tell myself, it must mean I’m moving in the right direction.
…that I’ll never change, and this growing up thing is yet another doomed seed planted in the fertile soil that functions as my imagination. After all, if I can perceive the lies I tell myself, yet hold on to them, it must mean I am even more of a moron than I thought.
…to hope and dream. How else will my soul catch those much-needed breaths? Of all the things I tell myself, this is perhaps my least favourite.
…not to hope and dream. How else will my heart remain in the seclusion that guarantees my sanity? Of all the things I tell myself, this is perhaps the most dangerous…
…I love You, and then I tell myself I’m wrong.
…I don’t love You, and then I tell myself all the reasons I must be right.
…to shut up, for it is long overdue.
…to talk to You…and that just may be the best thing I tell myself.
Thus says the Lord:“The people who survived the sword Found grace in the wilderness—Israel, when I went to give him rest.”
The Lord has appeared of old to me, saying: “Yes, I have loved you with an everlasting love, therefore with lovingkindness I have drawn you.
Jeremiah 31:2, 3 (NKJV)
The Holy Bible, New King James Version Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc.