Lost and Insecure:You Found Me.

I'm starting to feel really proud of myself, for starting things. The only problem is that starting something means nothing unless you're willing to finish it. I am the world champion at beginning things I never accomplish. I have always viewed it as such a weak point. Is it that I simply do not have the willpower? Or that I am not ambitious enough?

Sometimes these insecurities haunt us. That's another tough spot though, how do you know when to change the flaw or accept it? Where do we find that line? Everyone tells you to be proud of your body, not insecure, but when do we reach they point where we should stop crying and make a change? I guess that's another line left up to us to decide.

I sometimes question if life would be easier if every year on your birthday you received a manual discussing all the problems that would occur in the next year, and specific advice on how to deal with them. Every time I think this, I must take it a step farther and open my eyes. We were given that book. The Bible discussing any corruption we could possibly come across, but we try so hard to avoid it's teachings. We believe that we, sinners, can accomplish more on our own than our king, and creator ever could. When I put it that way, it sounds kind of ridiculous, doesn't it?

Help!

Things are revealed to us in the most unexpected ways, aren't they? For the past few months, I have been sitting on my butt wondering hour after hour, what was I going to do with myself this summer. I looked for absolutely every opportunity I could have accepted. First, I wanted to go to a ritzy acting camp, then there was singing lessons, then early scholar classes and of course, various plays. Crazy enough, none of my ideas went as planned. I figured well, I'll just have to get a job like every other high schooler, but I feared that. I feared normality.

About a month ago, while talking to my brother about desiring to be busy this summer, he suggested to me a mission trip. I told him I'd look into it, but honestly, I didn't take him seriously. Yes, I loved God, but my own selfishness was in the way. A week later, I did look up those mission trips he was referring to, and knew it was time.

I'm asking for help, but until I help others, I can't help myself.

I can't just keep saying I want to make the world a better place. I can't just keep planning for the future. I have to think about right now. What if I die tomorrow? Would I want to be remembered as the girl who didn't want to save the world until it was convenient? I took some time to really think and pray about it and I realized this was what I wanted.

My brother told me he could see a desire in me to help others, and he's right, that desire is here. It is streaming through every one of my veins. It is shouting, don't wait any longer. With every heart beat, I know what I have to do. God puts passions into our heart for a reason, does He not? If you don't use it, you lose it, right?