I should have gone to church this morning; not because it's an imperative unto itself, but because I needed it and felt and knew that - but I was feeling small and dirty and mean, and turned over in bed and would not go. It takes a bit to kick the church out of me. Having adopted the habit late (as a volunteer), it has an urgency youth's exposure had never made it. But I clung to a nasty temper, and laziness, and stuck out my lip and wouldn't do it. There is a certain stubborn influence, which is the cause of the worst of my temper, which feeds this petty arrogance. I couldn't meet this stubbornness without indulging in my own. And meeting it with conciliation hasn't been a working prospect.
***
I started off my day on Thursday, decided that challenges were what I needed. I dug in and I met them - "Bring it on," I actually said out loud to people - and beat them down ... and still watched the day explode. Friday was worse, but that was personal. And so I start this week, this stubborn week, which refuses to not come - inexorable - with heels dug in and jaw set, insistent on asserting myself. This week will not get the best of me. Neither will its pettiness and meanness. You hear? You will not get the best of me. I *am* The Best. Indivisible.
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