Who knows what day I'm on. If I weren't so bloody lazy, I'd figure it out. But I think it is 33, and though I've contemplated quitting, I haven't been able to muster up the will to do so.
Not quitting reading. I'm determined to read the Bible through. But walking. Every day. Some days this week, out of fatigue and sheer lack of time, I walked in place for 5 minutes, and then later did the same. It wasn't even about the act of walking, it was about obedience, and doing it, regardless. And obidience, I have to say, sometimes SUCKS.
I'm finding that this has more to do with me and God than me and my fat behind. As I go through some of the most trying times of my life, I find myself leaning on the rock that is Jesus, depsite myself.
But I'm not a wussy. As much as I'd love to say that I am, surrender, and dive into a vat of liquor and high-fat-content food and not come out. I'm more defiant than that. Satan can't suck me down without a fight. I do believe the struggles of this world are not against flesh and blood but against the powers and spiritual wickedness of the world.