Not a huge fan of self-help.  Big fan of God-help.

Next to my bed are not a lot of books on how to help myself through hard things or any deep analysis books on my screwed up psyche. On my bedside table are several journals (I have a habit of starting new ones before finishing the last), a couple of favorite devotionals, and my Bible.  Also, several books from a group I attend regularly(That group is best described as a depend-on-God group).

In recent years, I’ve done a tremendous amount of work on taking accountability for my own life.  I’m discovering how unusual that really is as I intersect with others in the world, and I have to say that that is disappointing to me.

I try not to have inordinate expectations of others, yet personal accountability seems so basic, so foundational, that I am continually surprised and dismayed when adults are so quick to lay blame for failures, ruin, and misfortune at the feet of someone other than the person in the mirror. The thing is, it’s never all up to me or all up to someone else. Together, we build, together we break.

As I look back, there are many things that I’ve done, built, or contributed to that I am proud of.  There are also a number of things that did not happen as I wished they had, things that I was involved with that crumbled or even exploded.  My life is a combination of all of those experiences, and I contributed to them all.

I take responsibility for my life.  The good, the not so good.  The love, the pain, the intact, the broken, the relationships.

This no longer makes me sad.  It makes me whole.

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