0 Isaiah 53

I was reading my devos yesterday, and really it was just dragging on. I couldn't get into it and I kind of didn't care, as awful as that is. Like I REALLY wanted to do anything but sit down for another few hours and read those devos (the boredom of all this free time is starting to creep in). But I kept chugging through. And was thrilled when I realized I had finished the day so that I could go sleep or something. But then I gave the readings a second look and I had missed one. (Damn it!) Ergo, I flipped to Isaiah 53, and lo-and-behold! it was like I got hit in the face with the words! Let me just rewrite my reaction from my journal yesterday....

"WOW!! Isaiah 53 gives me a whole new perspective on Jesus that hit a little close to home... It's not the image of Jesus walking on water with people flocking to him, but rather one of a humbled & HUMILIATED Jesus constantly turning his other cheek and even forgiving and blessing all of those that treated him like dirt! That is such an about-face to my my normal image of Jesus that I just can't move on. He was literally viewed as the scum of the Earth, yet he held no grudges and even helped people. When humans are treated like that, we turn into mental cases! Like serial killers, torturers, evil villains in comics - we're out for retribution! We feel like we owe nothing to a society that would treat us like that , yet Jesus gave his everything to such a society. That's a whole new image to live up to (and admire)!"

As you can read, I was a little out of my head in excitement, but seriously.... How crazy to think that Jesus had no problem forgiving those people. I get mad when the waitress forgets to bring me drink out. Eeek! I feel so pathetic in all of the grudges I was holding now. They seem so pitiful and ridiculous. Makes me very embarrassed. Thanks for the call-out on my shitty behavior God! Now, hopefully I won't be as judgmental next time I'm actually around people again. I almost feel like I need to print all of that out and hang it up on my bathroom mirror so that I start every day with this frame of mind.

0 #SheReadsTruth

Trying to avoid alcohol is hard. I had to quit my job because, let's be honest, being a bartender means you're generally in the middle of all the party plans. Plus, it's part of my parole that I can't work at the bar anymore. So that gave me some free time. Then I lost a few friends because I couldn't go out with them anymore. So in all, minus the time I spend in class or lab, I have a TON of free time on my hands. And I may not have mentioned it before, and my former self is rolling her eyes at me, but I feel like God threw me in that jail cell as a rather in-the-face wake up call. Not that I was going to hell or that I was a destructive alcoholic, but rather as Him saying, "Helllloooo! I've let you stay at the party longer than I planned, but you have got to come back to the real world now! I have plans for you, great plans and you can't accomplish them sitting in a martini bar or perfecting your flirting skills. It's time to grow up."

It's kind of a drag to be pulled out of the party for a reason you don't necessarily see eye to eye with God on. But, I took his hand and followed him out anyway. Looking back and mourning my 'lost youth' the whole time. (Sorry, the melodrama just creeps in sometimes.) 

But while I was sitting there with all of this free time on my hands, I thought shouldn't I be doing something more constructive? Like reading my Bible or something? So I tried to do that, but it just sucked, to be honest. I was getting nothing out of it and it didn't matter how many different books of the Bible I read, I just didn't care what was being said. So then I started looking into devotionals because I figured they could at least give me a few directions about what exactly I'm reading. And almost like magic, I found She Reads Truth. I decided to start with the Fresh Start plan and I haven't been able to get enough since!

I literally spend like 4 or 5 hours a day delving in, doing multiple days' devos all at one time. I guess I finally figured out where God is directing me to! Not that I'm trying to sell them to you, but OH MY GOODNESS!!! These devos have literally turned my outlook on a lot of things completely around. I think every woman should be required to read them. Preferably after going through something  a little difficult. 

Go ahead, give them a try - I even provided you with a link to them up above. :)

0 So Here's What Happened

 **This will be an unusually long post, just to get the beginning of my story out of the way**

It was my night off from the bar and I had been on quite a few bad dates lately, so I got dressed up and got my nails did. I literally was thinking, “Tonight, I’m looking for trouble.” Because in my head, trouble = fun. The more scandalous a story was, the better your night went. (My friends and I may have been small disasters, I’m not denying it…) So I messaged this guy that I wasn’t all that into, but knew he would be down to go out. We met up at BWW and lo and behold the friend he had brought with him was the hot guy I almost got to date in high school. The friend and I literally were at a loss for words and commenced in an awkward stare-down/ “Oh hey…” moment. That was my first sign to turn around and go home. But I didn’t.

So then, we’re sitting there chatting and enjoying our beers, when Date gets up to use the restroom. Which means that Awkward Friend and I are sitting there alone. So we attempt to chat and I, well, I spill my beer on him. – Now, I want you to remember that I am a bartender. I serve drinks for a living. I DO NOT spill drinks for a living. Plus, I like to think I was a graceful socialite. – So that would have been sign No. 2 that the night should end. But I can’t just go home. I’m on a mission, remember? A mission to find trouble.

So the awkwardness went on until we decided to move the party to a martini bar. -A martini bar, that I literally found by bar wings in. A martini bar where I kind of not really, but did date the main bartender. And his best friend. Then his other friend (Pilot) became my friend with benefits. Essentially, all of us were there frequently and had established an odd relationship protocol where we were exceptionally good friends that helped each other make horrible decisions. Because they were fun and made for an excellent story the next day.- Well, we get there and Bartender sees me right away and immediately makes my favorite martini and hands me a shot of Patron. See? Good friends. Well, I think Date was trying to outdo him and commenced ordering me all kinds of tasty drinks.
Then he made the fateful suggestion of My Club. I can’t resist My Club, especially when so few men are willing to go with me. It’s like the most ghetto Mexican club to ever exist. Pilot used to take me, but would also hide a knife in his boot and insist we were sober before going in. But we’d always end up buying this drink they make & illegally sell there (half vodka, half sprite – sold in empty water bottles). G-H-E-T-T-O. There is just something so deliciously wild about being the only white girl in a Mexican club that can dance the dances and flirt back with the wanna-be vaqueros (perks of working at  Mexican bar).

But here’s where shit went from wild to ugly. I got pulled over on the way. And after having been breathalyzed and being told that I was twice the legal limit (damn bartender tolerance levels), I was handcuffed and placed into the cop car. Scariest fucking thing ever. I was literally shaking in my short shorts and tank. To make things even better, I was shoeless because I had tried to pass the field sobriety test barefoot.

Long story short, I spent the worst, most sleepless and freezing night (and next day) of my life in jail. Like not just the holding cell, but I was put in a cell with a woman that murdered a man  when he wouldn’t pay her after a night of prostitution. And another woman that had violently assaulted a police officer with a knife.

They braided my hair while I cried and told them what a fuck-up I was. looking back, they had been incredibly sweet to not slap me across the face and say, “Oh, please.” 

So that night in jail I pretty much resolved to not drink again for a long time and was trying to make every bargain I could think of with God to get me out of the cell. (I was not entirely sure my grandparents would be willing to bail me out.) I had never been so terrified in my life. But it definitely made me rethink my lifestyle