So yesterday was kind of a bipolar (good/bad) day. I had a good day at school (went to all my classes) and then Joe and I had just oodles of fun grocery shopping together. Junior High Bible Study didn’t go too hot because the girls talked and didn’t pay attention and then got mad at me when I pointed it out but if every Bible Study was good, then I would forget to be thankful for them, right? Then I came home to find that one of my hermit crabs had died. It’s currently sitting in a cheez-itz box on our kitchen table. I’m still mourning. We creamate tomorrow.

AND:

I learned/realized something about myself. Short history:

Since I can remember, I have always sought attention from people, especially boys. My actions, my clothing, my words were all to impress people and get that much needed praise from my peers. I learned how to disguise it so people wouldn’t find out, but I think it’s been pretty consistent.

I thought I had eradicated this from my way of thinking but yesterday I realized that I was choosing my actions intending to get attention from people. I realized that I had picked people to try to impress and then I was aware of them whenever they were around me. Like spatially. I could tell you where they were if they moved. And yeah, some were boys, which freaked me out because I don’t really want to date anyone else ever again. Josh is it. So, why do I care if a boy looks at me a certain way? It plays to my vanity, for sure. If 600 boys like me (even if I have ZERO interest in dating them), then I’m finally worth something, right? If the cool girls think I’m cool, then I have value? No. No. No. I was kind of disgusted with myself yesterday because once I identified what I was doing, I realized that I do it alot. Attention from others is addicting.

Well, I think I was in shock that this remnant of my childhood was still alive and well within me. And then, I read this passage this morning:

John 12: 42-43

Yet at the same time many even among the leaders believed in [Jesus]. But because of the Pharisees they would not confess their faith for fear they would be put out of the synagogue; for (here’s the kicker) they loved praise from men MORE than praise from God.

Ouch.

So begins my process of seeking praise from God. His attention is the only attention that really matters anyway.