Sitting here

I am sitting here, Rob Lowe whispering in my ear, telling me stories he "only tells his friends."
He is interesting, and he likes to use the f-word. Or the people he is quoting like to use the f-word.
It's not like I've never heard the word, it's just that the impudent speech hasn't been a part of my life for about 8 1/2 years. The occasional sh*t will fly if I drop something on my foot or knock my head, but other then that I guess I've just lost the sass...

Last night I was sitting here, staring at the computer, at my blog thinking; I am not interpreting anything these days. I am scared to get it wrong; afraid that my petty human wants will somehow be interpreted as the God's gentle nudging. Though my heart is in the right place, it's my head that I do daily battle with. I have to literally change my thoughts mid-thinking them. Because if I don't, the enemy will snare me.

News came that Rob's bosses are refusing him his vacation pay. My mind quickly took off at light speed cursing the men responsible for causing more undue stress. My mind plotted sweet revenge, not that I'd really egg their cars...but my mind laughed at the thought, maybe it would be hot and the egg would bake into the paint. I get no pleasure from that thinking now of course, because the moment I felt it taking hold I prayed for forgiveness and thought of God shaking his head at me in disappointment. I felt shame. Then it was gone, because I repented and I am forgiven. I then thought of how, after I was out of his gaze he chuckled at me. Really? Eggs? That's what she came up with.
Well yeah, because I can be angry, I have a ferocious bark, but the bite, well it's more of a nip and never breaks skin. I am not a mean person.

So I've been thinking: Interpret Sass needs to change, has changed.
Over this past year God is doing something in my life, and I have learned that I never was a good interpretor of his plan and after awhile you mature and learn that being sassy has it's limits.
I want to be whom God intended,  Sara.