I'm so tired, I can't think! Aunt Joan and I did some pretty heavy talking today. When I was a child, she was an extra special person to me. She understood me and the things that were wonderful and exciting to me. She would buy me quaint things, and take me to interesting places like to see old Charlie Chaplin movies. And she would show me a lot of love and affection. And she used to have this beautiful, long straight brown hair that hung all the way down her back.

I must share about Aunt Joan. Mom always said that she had a beatnik life style. Kind of a rebel. She left home when she was young, moved into the artist community in Greenwich Village. She’s the only affectionate person in our family. She'll draw Anna onto her lap, hug her and say, "Que bella!" or she'll put her hand on your head, or pinch your cheek, or hug you softly. That's how I want to be with people.

Also, she's so sensitive and childlike in her responses to things that are exciting, wonderful, and beautiful the color in a shirt, the feel of a texture, the life and color in a movie, the smell of spring in the city.

"Gee, that's really Wonderful!" she says frequently.

Anyway, the subject came up about my headaches. She seemed to think there were psychological factors behind them as well as the physical factors of diet, heat, fatigue, or eyestrain. She got me to really talk about Ronnie and some of the satisfactions and difficulties of that relationship and especially the struggle – it’s hard for me to write this - keeping the relationship on a brother sister level because I feel physical attraction toward him.

Whew! I didn’t want to really admit that to myself let alone anyone else.

Anyway, the jist of the whole thing was that she thought I might not be allowing my emotional needs and sexual needs to be met in any relationship, because I seem to be afraid of them or something. She pointed out that the reason that the relationship was able to start was because I didn't feel threatened. It was in the course of normal duties, so I allowed myself to trust Ronnie, which means that I allowed myself to give of myself and show love to him. When that happened, all these stupid needs came out and messed me up! Honest, that's the way I feel about it! Why does it have to be such a problem? When I get into it, it seems to be such a hopeless tangle and jungle. What's right and what's wrong? What's normal? What's healthy? What isn't?

What really got me was when she said, “Jeanne, face it. Emotionally you are only fourteen years old right now!”

It’s hard because I want Aunt Joan, Uncle Tom, and Anna Maria to know Christ. Right now they exist in, or have made a world which excludes Him.

Aunt Joan laughs when I talk about my need for Christ and my sinfulness. “Oh, Jeannie – what evil have you ever done – step on a butterfly or something?”

She seems to think that in certain cases I’m using the Christian ethic as a crutch or as something to hide behind to support behavior or feelings that had been instilled before I became a Christian. She thinks that I should sort out what God truly expects of me as a Christian and what I have learned through childhood experiences because I seemed to fuse them and make one support the other. That's true, because if you're afraid to trust, and afraid of sex, you can just say, "Well the Bible says it's wrong, so I won't have anything to do with it.”

Dear Heavenly Father, please help me. If I've been copping out all along and calling it, "trusting You," help me to face up. Lord, I know You've been working in my life and You still are. You allowed me to have the experience of loving, and caring for Ronnie; You allowed me to have this talk with Aunt Joan. Keep on working, Lord. I've got You I don't have to do the solving of my own problems -- at least not all of them, because You're there.

Phillippians 3:19 "But my God shall supply all your needs according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus.