A lifetime of temptation, giving up, starting again—
follow me into the turmoil of my mind.
My body will never be what I want it to be.
It's too late for my version of perfect.
Age eliminates firm arms, slender waist.
Truth broadcasts itself through my conscience.
What is left? Can I set new goals?
Eliminate old thought patterns?
What if I aim not for perfect body, but loving heart?
What if I learn to care about me, like You do?
What if I see myself as You see me?
Precious, beloved, created for joy.
I am important in my speck of the world.
I am grateful for your patience with me.
I begin again.
posted by Susan DiamondI have many friends, all ages, who have trouble sleeping. They take Ambien, Tylenol PM, listen to music and books on tape and on and on to lull them back to sleep. The National Sleep Association says that 40 million Americans are not getting enough sleep. The first thing people do when they ...
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Outside the open window the morning air is all awash with angels.