the now and the not yet: the old ones die hard

The Smartest Player today is currently jillymae1.

you know, that never gets old. being told you're smart. or being told, "dude, you're hot!" (thanks Allison, and the latino guys at Walmart who don't know i understand Spanish). or winning trophies, being given that pat on the back "atta girl" or hugs with kind words added.

and i soak it in every time. sometimes more than others.

i know who is supposed to provide all my needs, to fill me up, to raise my belief-ometer. and i almost feel sacriligious or blasphemous admitting this, but sometimes approval from people feels so much better. so much more real. more tangible. and i grab hold of every tangible moment offered and tuck it away like a note from the cute guy in class you have a secret crush on, but really want everyone to know about.

and sometimes, when no tangible accolades are being offered, i hold myself up and say, "see? look at me! look what i did! i deserve a pat on the back! notice me! love me! praise me!" and people do and there are "wow's" and "you rock!" and i puff out my chest and put my hands on my hips with a stellar grin and say, "dunt-duh duh daaaaaah! it's Suuuuper Jill"

and the quick fix lasts for a while. like an adrenaline rush after a ride on the Flashback coaster at King's Island in Cincinatti, i am walking around wide-eyed ready to face anything head-on bring it on i can't wait for the next ride then it takes too long to get through the line for the ride, and i am tired all of a sudden. then i yawn. then it's over.

on my face, i cry to the one who notices more of me than i do. and i say, "praise you. love me. help me. i'm raw. i'm empty. love me. please?"

last week at Kairos, we "made peace" before bringing our sacrifice, before taking communion. i wrote 3 letters. as i was writing, i could literally smell and taste sh!t. there is absolutely no other way to describe it. it's happened once since then as well. the old me is dying hard. but it is.