someday

I'm in a really big, antique house in North Tacoma. The kind of house that someone from my great grandparent's generation could have been raised in. And guess what:

There's a big fat liquor cabinet. Tequila, Vodka, gin, margarita mix, appletini mix, and too much more.

I was doing fine with this whole not drinking till I'm 21 thing. Now, not so much. I want to drink so bad. Why is that? Why am I so bent on drinking? Feeling the buzz. Being happy (key word being happy, not joyful). Because it's not joy. "He endured the cross, despising the shame for the joy set before Him." or something to that affect. Yeah, being a little tipsy on some alcohol is not quite what I would call joy.

I'm so good at giving up when I fight with myself, with my flesh. I let things slide, so easily. I allow temptations to seep in, knowing full well that I won't be able to handle it when it's staring me in the face. The Truth starts to speak quieter....or is it my ears that start to deafen against the Truth and listen intently on the lies.

Where is the innocent Nikki, who was so dissapointed in an older sister who would drink before she was 21. Where is the innocent Nikki who never wanted anything to do with alcohol. Where is she? I can't find her ANYWHERE. That little girl who thought that nothing could harm her because her parents were there to protect her. The little girl who believed wholeheartedly in every word that Jesus spoke.

Maybe I'll find her when I have my own little one....someday. I'll never be able to protect her from everything, and sometimes it's better to be faced with hardships. But I will try my hardest to prevent anything from happening to her that can be prevented.

Someday