It pisses me off so much when I see those people whom I care about very much go through immense suffering. When I see tears streaming down their face, I want to scream and cry and rant and rave all at the same time. I want to do anything—anything!—to take away their pain, to relieve the agony, but knowing the whole time that I am absolutely powerless in helping. It is the worst feeling in the world. All I can do is hope and pray, offering them a shoulder to lean on. What else can I do?

Satan attacks those whom I care about, and he attacks me as well. Usually these attacks take their form in thoughts, feelings, and emotions that swarm over me at certain times of the day or, oftentimes, for no apparent reason at all. He points out my mistakes, my errors, my pitfalls, and he tells me that my dreams to be a good husband and a good father, to be a minister of God, to make a difference in our world, are merely dreams that will torment me and never be tasted by my all-too-human lips. In these moments I look to the historical figure of King David: he made a grave sin—adultery, execution of best friend, lying in a political manner to cover up his sin—and yet God called him “a man after My own heart.” I have a passion for God and His kingdom running through my veins.

I am extremely tired. Today was a very fun day. My girlfriend and I went out to eat with some friends at a Chinese buffet, we went to the park, then we spent the evening at the overlook looking at the moonrise. It was quite romantic. Okay, so I am going to go to bed now. Good night.