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I prayed. I really did, and I meant it, but things did not go well. 

Like Paul, I have a thorn in my flesh. Although Paul did not name his, my thorn has a name. I have to look at it, interact with it, and tolerate it. No matter how nice or accommodating I am, it just presses deeper. So, one morning when I’d had enough, I called our family’s junior Jesus (my mother) to ask for advice. 

And in her typical junior-Jesus fashion, she simply stated, “Pray for her. I dare you. 😌 Pray that God blesses her more than He blesses you, and if it doesn’t help her, it’ll sure help you.” I knew she was going to say this, because she’d told me this same thing when I was in the middle of what proved to be one of the stupidest times of my life: divorce. This time I was prepared for her, though. I asked, ‘Do I have to mean it,’ and burst into laughter. Junior Jesus laughed with me and said in her annoyingly calm tone, “Yes, you do. Even if you don’t mean it at first, keep praying. Eventually, you will.” 

Well, a few mornings later I decided to pray for the thorn, and deep within my heart I truly felt a sadness for this person whose intent-knowingly or unknowingly-was to pull everyone in her path into her misery. No sooner than I’d finished praying, I began to receive a series of messages from the thorn that were unpleasant, to say the least. I was just stuck, and I stood there thinking-in the words of a close friend-she is BATSH*T crazy. (Make that asterisk whichever vowel you’d like.) ☺️ 

Let me be clear, despite having just asked Jesus to bless her, I was livid and was set to go to verbal war! However, junior Jesus taught me better, and I refused to give her the satisfaction of having me “act a monkey” on what promised to be a busy yet productive day. So, I continued to lift her up in prayer. Mind you, at this point I certainly didn’t mean it and was praying more for myself and her safety from my verbal wrath and batsh*t crazy mode. Let’s face it. We all have a bit of that kind of crazy. Some of us just choose to live in it while the rest of us come and go at will, but I digress. 

Shortly after another conversation with the Lord, I typed messages to the thorn that were clear, concise, and could brook no argument. However, I was still saying cussin’ words in my mind. πŸ˜’ 

Fast forward to today, the problem has not yet been resolved, and the shenanigans continue. So, while she chooses to reside in batsh*t crazy, in the meantime I’ll pray…and maybe one day I’ll mean it. 😊