Freshman year of college, my roommate came home super-late one night and told me about a make-shift therapy session a bunch of our friends had. They all shared some of their biggest secrets, and at the time, I was pretty shocked. Thoughts of suicide. Huge regrets. Deep emotional scars. But, looking back, that was probably a very freeing experience for those involved. After all, I'm on record as arguing that we all need counseling. And this was a great step in the right direction. He at least, looks back at that night extraordinary fondly. He knew he wasn't alone. And he felt hope about the future. So, the moral of the story is, don't keep secrets. They'll eat you to death. Tell someone you can trust.

I remember a friend once told me how smart their father was in terms of theological understanding, and said "He always wanted to be a Pastor, but just didn't have enough compassion for people to make it. As if that were a natural stop point impossible to overcome. Now, I'm preaching to myself here. I don't like a whole lot of people, either. I prefer my personality. But, this is a moral failure. Not who I'm content to be. Because God ferociously loves the very same people I can't stand. And I desire to do the same.