That Incorrigible ADHD Person. Yah. You Over There
I am incorrigible. Totally.
I start with the best intentions. And promptly side track. My verse for the day:
Let me live so I can please You
And may Your regulations help me
I have wandered away like a lost sheep.
Come and find me
For I have not forgotten Your commands. (Psalm 119:175-176)
I don’t relate to relating to laws and commands, but I love the lost sheep/come and find me plea. That is how I feel.
When I finally dragged myself into my prayer chair, I asked for something to help. “Heard” –Psalm 121- but thought, nah. I’m making that up. That’s just a general praise passage and not helpful for my current discouraged mood.
So I heard:
– Okay, then. Psalm 47 –
Well, that was a general praise psalm yet it lifted my mood anyway.
Figured I should look up the other. Psalm 121 turned out to be the, “I lift my eyes to the mountain” psalm which always helps me come into Your presence. Rather than 121, I think You intended me to see the verses from Psalm 119 strung across the top like a banner.
My enemies are not people. They are me.
My flaws and character traits are too strong for me. Please free me?
I’ve let them imprison me.
And I don’t follow Your directions even though I have asked for You to lead me. I want to, but a huge part of me resists. That part wants to do what it wants to do at that moment with no thought surrendered to the day’s larger picture. Forget the week/month/year/lifetime picture.
You have gifted me with perspective. Normally I can see the larger picture at a glance. Yet in this area of within time, perspective flees. Please help me face each day afresh with time-frame perspective firmly in place.
Ha, ha. The chimes go off, letting me know I am already behind schedule. Yet I have learned a lot.
That’s the flip side. You have used the ADHD to get me doing what You want when it did not fit into the schedule I thought You wanted. The switch for me will be getting onto a schedule. I fight it. Well, I fight going to bed.
I don’t like going to bed. A million things to do beckon seductively, so I resist getting ready for bed until I am exhausted. “Just this one more thing,” I say.
– Are you sure you want to do that? – You ask
Oh, yeah. It won’t take long.
– Are you sure? –
Yeah. It’ll be fine.”
Hours later I finally fall into bed. Now I am exhausted. I hurt all over. Behind for the day. Distractible. So maybe I will go to bed and sleep eight hours. And wake up feeling great.
And promptly stay up way too late again.