Confessions of a Boy-Crazy Girl: On Her Journey from Neediness to Freedom
Autor Paula Hendricksen Limba Engleză Paperback – 31 aug 2013 – vârsta de la 13 până la 18 ani
Soundfamiliar?
1. You spot a cute boy (we ll call him Boy A).
2. You dream about Boy A.
3. You do whatever it takes to make Boy A notice you.
4. Even though Boy A doesn t pursue you, you hang on to your dream of Boy A until he (a) moves to the North Pole with no access to a cell phone or computer, (b) dies and is buried or cremated, or (c) begins dating another girl.
5. You mend your broken heart by hating Boy A and finding another cute boy (Boy B). You replace Boy A with Boy B and begin all over again . . .
Paula has gone through an entire alphabet and more of boys over the years.
As she shares her journal entries and stories the good, the bad, and the ugly you ll be encouraged to trust God with your love life and buckle up for the ride
Written for teen girls, "Confessions of a Boy-Crazy Girl"will help you on your own journey from neediness to freedom.
"Part of theTrue Womanpublishing line, whose goal is to encourage women to exude God s beauty by embracing his design for womanhood""
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Specificații
ISBN-10: 0802407501
Pagini: 151
Dimensiuni: 130 x 178 x 10 mm
Greutate: 0.17 kg
Ediția:New.
Editura: Moody Publishers
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Trust God with your love life . . . and buckle up for the ride!
I was ten when I first wrote about a boy in my journal. It didn't seem to matter that his last name was Roach or that he came in and out of my life one short afternoon. He wasn't the first boy I noticed--or the last. Over the years, my "cute, innocent crushes" became more and more frequent--and more and more costly.
When I tried to fix myself, it was like slapping a flimsy Band-AidTM on a deep, gaping wound. Then I prayed a desperate prayer: that God would free me from my idols and teach me to trust Him with my love life.
I don't know what I expected, but it certainly wasn't the punch to my gut that left me reeling and my world spinning out of control. But I'm getting ahead of myself . . .