In Chapter Eight Thoughts Form

Brakes unresponsive, seems self-control is the same

Faults in my routine, errors and misses pile up

Shame

*Do you ask God for help but wonder if you’ll look away in a second? *

Bad impulses. Foolishness. Failure.

*Are you afraid to ask for help almost sure you’ll steer in a different ditch on the same road.*

I know what to do. I don’t do it. Repeat. Same dead-end. Punching the steering wheel. Turn around and try again.

Shame and embarrassment.

Some sins are underneath

Revealed after a time

Some sins reek immediately

Some hide while others are on display

God I try to resist but drool towards options marked hazardous

Then at the end of the day my head can’t look ahead

Another chance to succeed battered until all fruit is dead

Pretty flowers ripped from every root

I’ll try again tomorrow

Reboot.

*Do you ever put your prayers off to hide? As if that’s possible.*

*Do you feel like you’ve scored for the enemy by mistake?*

*Do you ever ask God if you’re the worst child he has?*

I’ll pray casting my anxiety on him there’s no going back.

What are you thinking about after reading this?

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