Let's see if I can get a "real" journaling entry in before Micah wakes up from his nap. I mean the kind where I sort out bunches of feelings and have lots of deep thoughts.

And...go!

I was just reading my last two entries about Rhonda and realizing how incoherent I get when I talk about her--her, or other friends I have that have royally messed up their lives and continue to keep messing up their lives.

The bottom line with Rhonda and this pregnancy thing is, I think she decided to get pregnant because she thought it might bring some kind of normalcy to her royally screwed up life. I think she got pregnant because she wanted to feel something resembling real love, since she's slept around and messed up the idea of love that God created. (Not that Rhonda understands that it has anything to do with God.)

And the thing with my reactions to her continuing to make stupid choices (like deciding to have a baby so she will not be so lonely) is that I have been here. The. Entire. Time. Her whole life. You would think she would look over to me and say, "Hm, Stephanie seems to have it relatively together. I should figure out her secret and do likewise."

And I am not the model of perfection. But I have managed to avoid making a train wreck of my life because I have made smart choices. Like not sleeping around. And not doing drugs. And not deciding to get pregnant because I'm lonely.

....Yeah, that would be the 13-year-old Pharisee in me talking. :/

I mean, I have made smart choices. But to hang my whole life's success on that is probably in err.

I need a new perspective on my own life.

Aaaaaaaand Micah's awake. *sigh*

Anyway, I have a lot of emotions tangled up in Rhonda's life. Some of them stem from struggling with being a Pharisee ("I do everything right; I am perfect; you all should watch and follow me and your lives will be blessed.") Some of them stem from genuine love for Rhonda. But love and pride get mixed up into a big pot and I can't always separate the two very well.

Oy. I better go get my kid.

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He's been crying all day, practically. He's taken 3 naps, all of them shorter than an hour. And every time he wakes up, he cries. I just. Don't understand. There were a few precious moments where he happily played by himself. But the rest of the day. Fuss, fuss, fuss; cry, cry, cry. I don't. Even know. How to deal with this.

Rhonda does not understand what she has gotten herself into. :/

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Well, thank goodness. Her boyfriend knows and he is excited about it. Praise God for that.

-Stephanie

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