To think of how I’ve ended up with BPD! It’s an illness that causes me to be thought badly of and avoided. I’ve lost friends and continue losing friends. Recent requests for health care ignored. The very thought of being saddled with this illness and wondering why it all happened to me fills me with depression and a wish to die.

The seeds for BPD were sown in my painful childhood, but they sprouted a few years ago, the result of a year of trauma.

A friend told me I need to focus on you, Jesus – not on the people who hurt me. Not on the ones who mistreated me and no longer talk to me. Can I do that, Lord?

Please help me focus on you and remember that you too went through agonizing pain. Help me share mine with you. Help me feel yours in the way you feel mine.

How I long to cry in my Father’s arms – to feel his compassion! Do you weep too, Lord, when you remember what was done to you? When you remember how you were treated, in spite of living a life of love for others?

You were rejected and abused in the cruelest way imaginable, yet all the while you were reaching out to those who suffered. All the while you reminded those who needed love that the Father had the greatest love imaginable for them.

May I follow your example, Lord.