Growing up Lynda had the best family ever. Both parents were in the home. There were seven siblings who competed with one another. There was food on the table, and a roof over their heads. Elders were respected. Life was good. Yet, little Lynda lacked that attention, that validated her self-esteem.

Consequently, she nested, trying not to be oppressive. She became overly obsessive, quantitatively possessive, and somberly depressive.

She gravitated to bad boys and alcohol, stirred with the remnants of drugs. Her self-esteem took a beating, like being punched in the gut, made to lose her lunch. She had no steam, but she had memories. “Look up, look up, to where your help comes from” (Psalm 121, NRSV).

Lynda took a kicking, but she kept on ticking. Her bone to pick was within. She could no longer blame her lameness games on others. She came abreast, and confessed; the enemy tried to conquest.

Lynda surrendered, because life was a blur. She humbled herself, and became an entrepreneur. Every chance she gets, she tries to help another. Her self-esteem today is like none other. Oh what a joyous time.

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