I am a people-person.  As much as I hate people, I love them.  They crush my heart and they grant me temporary happiness.  I’ve had uncountable friends, and most of these have been uncount-on-able.  Ironic, isn’t it?

God, however, is uncoutable in his knowledge, power, and love and– get this– I can always count on Him.  Too bad I don’t always remember this.  No, instead, I constantly remind myself about that one girl who assumed I was trying to demand something from her when I, instead, was thinking she’d lend a hand to a sister.  Or those friends from college who never contact me, or that those girls who “stole” the girls who I considered my closest friends.  (Yes, I realize that is completely junior high, but it hurts when a friend abandons you for someone else.)  Then there’s the girl who could never get over the fact that I tried to do something that she wanted to do.  What can I say?  I didn’t even succeed– she did; but she still hated me for trying.  These people don’t always hurt my feelings; sometimes, they go a step further and mess up something simple that was very important to me.  I take great pleasure in the little things.  Other people don’t respect that.

Then, I have to come back to Christ.  I suck and so do other people.  But Christ… He never fails.  He’s never broken my heart and not repaired it; He’s never abandoned me for someone else.  He’s always empowered me and made me feel as though I am important– as though I can do something.  He is the ultimate friend.  Why, then, do I assume others wil be as good of a friend as he will, then?  Will I ever stop doing this?  I just think people are basically good.  What’s wrong with that?  …besides the fact that I become downhearted when dissapointed…

A woman I work with has a different perspective on things; she is a pessimist.  She thinks that you should never expect much out of anyone that way, in the rare instance that it comes true, you’re pleasently suprised and never let down.

I disagree with this; I choose to drink from a glass that is halfway full– not missing half of its contents.  Call me an optmist, but I think there’s no other way to live a happy– sometimes broken — life.  I choose a rollercoaster over a low-sitting plain.  Life is more interesting this way. 

Wow, these are random babblings.