My legs are tired, I'm sick of running.

       I've been finding that I love the world way too much. I always think that I'm not conforming to the ways of the world. However, I'm still conforming. Just because I'm not drinking and smoking, or out sleeping around, doesn't mean that I'm resisting the ways of the world. I find myself listening to the music of the world, lusting in the way of the world, thinking the way the world thinks, viewing people the way the world does, and it's not okay. It's not healthy. I miss the old person, who I once was,  way too often. That girl is dead. It's not that I desire to live my old life again, because that's a life of death. It looks much more fun from the outside... When you're actually living it, it's not nearly as great as it appears. Sometimes, I hate being trapped in my mind. I hate that my flesh still desires things of this world. I wish I could say that Christ is the ONLY thing that I desired, but if I did, I'd be lying to you, and myself. I still get distracted by silly things in life. I choose to watch romance movies, and wish for relationships that probably will never happen. I sit there and fill myself with these images of what love is, false pictures of what God has for me, basically, emotional porn. I choose to connect with people and movies and books instead of connecting with a very real and passionate God. I choose things that will bring temporary satisfaction, and then leave me empty, instead of choosing a God who is the Fulfillment of my existence.

    I feel like the Prodigal son. But one that hasn't learned her lesson yet. It's almost like leaving, and coming home is a daily thing for me. I don't want it to be that way. I wake up, and am satisfied. Then, give it two hours, and I don't even recognize myself from what I've done, to where I've been, to what I've said, or thought.. much more with my thought life. And then, I realize how dirty I am, and I return home. Dad always greets me with open arms, and tears on his face. I repent. I try to do better, and I do for a while. Then I catch my heart running away again. I'm not sure what to do. My spirit clings to God, my flesh runs from him. I'm torn. Frustrated, and torn. All I know to do, is to keep coming home. People may not get that, but it's my only option. To keep confessing, to keep seeking, to keep praying, and to keep chasing God. Eventually, I believe that the Spirit of God within me will help me conquer my flesh. Especially in the little ways. It's not always the common mistakes that trip me up. I may not be partying, or cussing, or whatever else you consider to be ungodly. It's the small things, like my thoughts, my getting distracted by others, and my surroundings, when I don't listen openly for God's voice, etc. God is working on it. I want to be better, I want to get better! He'll have to help me though, because I can't do this on my own. My legs are tired, and I'm sick of running.