The weapons I use against a (morbid) migraine attack are as follows:
- Ibuprofen
(MY BEST FRIEND AHH!) - Pulling my hair
(It really helps, no wonder they say migraine is a hair-pulling kind of pain.) - Axe brand oil
(The smell of it turns me off but it works on throbbing temples.) - Holy Communion
(Spiritual warfare – better than anything else, I’m sure.) - Anointing Oil
(I used too much of it, it’s running out. Gotta get more.)
I’m kinda sick of battling my issue with sleep that has been going on for the past year. Attending school that is an hour’s journey away from home can get pretty taxing for a nocturnal being like me.
Sometimes, I’m that all talk and no action kind of person – when it comes to attending classes, or maybe even handling project deadlines. And I’m not even ashamed to admit it.
Spiritual warfare. C’mon, I really need more revelations on this.
This is always the time of the term that screws me upside down. Not a confession, more like a complaint? I always think I haven’t been doing enough. Not being more efficient in handling my time, always sleeping when I’m supposed to be working on projects, always skipping lessons to sleep in at home… The list can go on.
Self-righteousness, I know. Mmhmm. And that’s bad for a Princess who feeds on the grace message EVERYDAY. So tell me, what’s my lesson to take?
Kenneth reminded me that God gives us choices. A man who hasn’t encountered God had to tell me that. He said God gave me the choice to sleep in more, or to wake up and be early for classes. Then he added, “And you chose the first one.“
Woah. Big blow, man.
JESUS!
How, Jesus. How?
What a mad, mad world we’re living in.
Last night, some random guy who visited the polyclinic on Monday texted me. Apparently, he got my number when he sat next to me and saw my particulars through the patient assessment form on my lap. Right. This isn’t the first time some random guy texts to want to get to know me (third strike, actually). This ain’t no boasting, okay. This is a complaint! A murmuring I find the urge to make.
On the brighter side, I guess it can be some sort of a compliment. I’d like to think that it’s the glory (of God) they see in me that attracts them. But on the down side, it can get really annoying. Clinton told me to tell the stalkers that I was attached. “Just tell them you’re attached. Anything, get them to call me.” LOL. But I didn’t, of course. Just don’t reply.
I want to write about my day in and out, but I’m in the least of any mood whatsoever to do so. Maybe later. My shoulders hurt. A pile of work awaits.
But Jesus covers me.
In this mad, mad world.
Amen. Amen.
