Born Again

 

Day three of forced captivity, after a few days of ice and snow.  I gave it a try, I really did-but with my knee in the healing process-and not wanting to crack my head open, again, one slip feeding the cats and I was DONE.  I don’t do well with mandatory anything, and I’m quite sure that if I had hiked the mountains of Pennsylvania this morning?  I would be dreaming of a stormy day nap.

The grass is always greener.  That isn’t my nature, though.  I have always tried to make the best of each and every circumstance-sometimes it worked, more often than not-it didn’t.  You see, when you are a victim of emotional abuse as a child, you don’t think you deserve to be treated fairly, be happy, or even loved for that matter.  What I’m saying is, those of us who have faced the crushing despair of abuse are experts at making the most hideous situations look like a trip to Disney World.  This is the very characteristic that makes us such targets for narcissists.  Let’s face it, we allow or better yet enable the bullies for the very reason they abuse-we think nothing of ourselves.  Frankly, we are terrible with boundaries, because there were none as children and way into adulthood. So, what I am saying is this: if you don’t expect good things/people/blessings to happen to a poor sod like yourself?

Think again.

Christ has brought me out of the darkness and in to the most surreal of lights.  I am beyond blessed by a life I never expected, in my wildest dreams, to have.  I praise God each and every day for healing my Lyme, healing my heart, and bringing me home.  It’s hard to put into words, this ethereal lightness of being.  It often takes me way longer than it should, this vision of the tapestry my beloved Abba is weaving in to the very fibers of my life.  We can grow in leaps and bounds if we allow God to do the work, and get out of our own ways.

When you stop judging and start loving as Jesus taught us to love?

Miracles happen~

 

 

 

 

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Time alone is time on my hands and that means I am prone to deep meditation.  This morning, while praying, I saw them-the scars on my wrists from that dreary October evening twelve years ago.  They startled me out of my talk with Jesus, and a tear fell from my face, onto the book I was reading.  I was back there, that evening, and the awakened remorse, pain and shame were too much to take.

I stumbled into the kitchen, feeling it necessary to fix this situation by making brownies.  And I remembered a line I have repeated over and over again,

You gotta feel the feels.”    – Richard Gannon, psychiatrist

I had been on my high horse as of late, judging people like crazy.  Not the people in my life, but the principalities in high places.  The rich.  The elite.  The treasonous.  That’s when God took my hand, and led the way to a breakthrough that has been weeks in the process.

Rather than judging them, how about praying for them?

I’m a survivor because Jesus Christ picked me up when I was at rock bottom-leading me out of the despair, the hopelessness-into a blessed and beautiful life.

I Think it Strange You Never Knew

I took what I wish I could tell you was my last drink in the beginning of October, 2007.  I ended up in the hospital after a suicide attempt, which is another story for another day.  What sobered me up was a combination of my husband’s frailty, my will to live and a gift-the blessing of clarity that comes from Jesus.  I won’t even try to tell you that this road has been easy.  We addicts push down the truth, and push our loved ones away-fact-and until we achieve sobriety?  Well, there will be no healing, no peace, no end to the pain that holds us in bondage.

Months afterwards, I was hiking in two feet of snow with my golden retriever, Dylan.  A shining star and beloved pet, it hurts my heart that I wasn’t with him for the first 5 years of his time on this earth.   I was here, but I wasn’t present, and I have no memory of what could have been the best years of my life, had I not succumbed to the melodic pull of oblivion.

So I am trudging up this hill, and I am overcome with love.  I feel forgiveness surround me.  I cry out to God and confess the absurd backslide I have taken with alcohol and pain medication.  I cry out to Jesus and I tell him to take my life, it isn’t mine to begin with, take it Jesus, mold me Jesus, cry with me and then I’ll get tough, I promise…….

“I have been here with you from the very beginning of time.  I have cried your tears, tasted the salt of your remorse, and I will deliver you from this travesty……”

I think it strange, I never knew….

Jesus, Take the Whole Car

 

Tomorrow will be Easter, and I dread it like the plague.  As I write, snuggled in my bed and nodding off-I can’t help but wonder why I am beleaguered by horrible holidays.  Oh, there’s been a few that were notable, but few and far between.

After my parents passed, the idea of any resemblance to a family dynamic flew directly out of the window.  There were arguments with his mother, as we wanted to see my nieces and nephew when given the opportunity.  Monster would fuss and fight, to the point that I began dreading what fortunate people anticipate with great joy.  It began when I met my husband.  Our first Thanksgiving together, and the first time my mother allowed Dwain in her presence, I remember well.  I woke early to feed the critters, and I was in such a happy tilly I could hardly contain myself.  I sang to the cats, danced in the Fall rain-I simply couldn’t wait to be with family.

The phone rang, for me.  News that my poor mother had fallen and broken her hip, whilst attempting to bake us pies.  In the hospital, she screamed in agony-my heart was filled with pain to see her in that helpless and vulnerable way.

That was the last holiday (with the exception of one Christmas with my daddy after mom went home) I would look forward to, and the last I care to remember.  These days, we go to my in laws-due to my having to live this fresh hell tomorrow, I’ll keep the details to a minimum.

It sucks dogs balls.

Three Easters ago, I was baptized in my current place of worship.  My sister had invited us to Easter-my annual sinus infection was in full gear, and in church I was dunked under ice cold water in an air conditioned building.  I was completely alone.  My husband had a stick up his apple, for some reason.  I remember the Spiritual Director taking me aside:

You’re here alone?  No family whatsoever.  Utterly alone.

Last Easter my step son and we were on the outs.  Dwain asked his mother to invite Bud for the afternoon, so we could visit before noon.  Actually, Dwain had hinted that it would be a good thing if maybe she could skip inviting him altogether.  Days passed, and the holiday loomed overhead.  As we were dressing, my man announced that Brad’s truck was already parked in his parents driveway.

She said nothing whatsoever to Bradley.  We stayed home.

This year, again we do not speak.  He doesn’t understand, even after living in the tragic past, that I don’t have my parents, no close family-not even a friend to spend the day with.  One Thanksgiving I spent the day in a nursing home, visiting a friend, and made no apologies.

I tried going to the Farmer’s market in town, after driving to Urgent Care (pulled a tick off of my chest yesterday) for ten days of Doxy, but after I saw the waiting room?  I left toute suite, not even remotely in the mood to wait at least an hour.

I understand that every one of us has to pick up their cross and follow our glorious savior Jesus.  My problems are one thousand percent insignificant in the grand scheme of things.  Maybe there will be holidays in heaven?

Nah.  He is a just and compassionate deity.

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Into His Arms…

I have to start out by telling you I have consumed my happy juice and am a bit crosseyed at this time.  But praise Jesus, for he has given us every herb, plant and fruit bearing tree so that we will live healthy, peaceful lives.  Medicinal.  Used for my CPTSD, it can take me from despair to joy, and that my friends is worth its weight in gold.

I’ve been thinking about what is happening in this world, and obviously, it all but freaks me out.  After watching a video I shouldn’t have, I was overwhelmed-feeling as if the entire three ring circus was on my back.  First sad.  Then frantic.  Then Jesus.

I tell him, Jesus! I am clinging to your robes today, I need you badly!

These are the times when I run, full throttle, all engines on to God.  I picture myself running in to his amazing hug, and hear him say There, there child.

I can’t do this Jesus.

I know too much, why do I know so much and when did you make the decision to take a scaredy cat like this girl, and lead her in the direction of Doom.  Real news.  Investigative reporting.  I have felt the Holy Spirit driving me in this direction, and some days?  Down with the ship I go.

He never pushes, never demands.

I come to the realization that He alone is my Lord and Savior.  He will not leave me nor forsake me.  He is in control.  

I take a long hot shower.  I plug in my tiny white lights strategically placed all over my home, to give comfort.  Put some cinnamon on the stove.  And then He takes me back to who I was before I got clean.  I am profoundly grateful.

I fall into His arms.

Ringing The Bell

Now that I finally have the time to sit and write what has been on my head and heart?  I find myself at a loss for words.  Earlier today, I felt the Holy Spirit tug at my heart.  After convincing myself that a few of the YouTube channels I frequent had to go?  I had to admit, the honing of my discernment is pleasing to my soul.  What people just don’t understand?  We are told by God (it’s in the bible, in many a scripture) to be seekers of the truth.

The truth.

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Again, it would be swell if WordPress could make my inserts just a TAD smaller.

Okay, zoom this picture as high as you can without distortion.  The person in the very back, with the watch?  That is John F. Kennedy, Jr. himself.  He is alive.  It isn’t a conspiracy theory gone wild, it isn’t a lie, and it isn’t fake news.

JFK, Jr. walks amongst the living.  He has two children, a daughter and a son.  He is the master of disguise, having learned makeup in the Drama department of an Ivy League School.  He shows up in the strangest places, and I laugh each and every time I miss the clue, and then it’s obvious when someone points it out.

John F. Kennedy, Jr. will be running for Vice President in the coming election.  I’d bet good money on this, and the only question is when.  When will he show his gorgeous mug?

There is a battle, a Spiritual battle that is being fought on the frontlines of the Donald J. Trump administration.  Pedophiles and human traffickers are being arrested in droves, more than at any time in presidential history.  That makes sense, as the last four presidents were needy baby, greedy babies.  Demons, if you will.  They sent our men and women to wars that had no reasoning, simply for profit.  They were in the penthouse suites, toasting with the Dom, cheering each other on.

“We fooled ’em again!  We took their kids, their livings, their hope!  Hail satan!!!”

That’s right.  Can you smell what I am stepping in?

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But God had more He wanted to show me.  I see how many people are falling for the change in narrative, the subtle whispering that Trump is not winning, that he is to blame for the last two mass shootings (Cabal initiated) or that anything but good things are happening.

There is no room for fear, God anointed Trump for this very time in biblical history.

The epic era in which one third of this world will be eradicated from planet earth.

All evil will come to light.

And then I did my Bible dip and came upon my favorite book, 2 Corinthians.

Finally, brethren, farewell.  Be perfect, be of good comfort, be of one mind, live in peace; and the God of love and peace shall be with you.

Greet one another will an holy kiss.  All the saints salute you!

The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Ghost be with you.

Be still, and know that He is God.

Farewell My Friend, Farewell

This tops any list I may have previously held for myself, in terms of the most painful things I have had to write.  I don’t want to write, but I know deep down, that if I don’t-I will free fall into the dark recesses of my depression.  God knows how badly I want that never to happen again.

I met John eight years ago, when I worked at their family owned kennel.  My husband grew up with him, but I knew very little; only that he had suffered from the same oral cancer as my brother in law.  I knew he was in remission, but his wife worried constantly about his health.  What began as straight out intimidation soon turned to a quiet fondness of his gentle spirit and obvious physical strength.   I could talk to John, be myself, content in the knowledge that he felt the same way.  It wasn’t long before our relationship was misconstrued.  We didn’t speak for two entire years.

When we did rekindle our friendship, it was with the knowledge that his cancer had returned, and he didn’t want treatment.  I spoke with his wife on several occasions, stopping at the kennel to offer support.

If you asked either one of us, we would not be able to explain our bond; yet it is that of a brother and sister.  No boundaries were ever broken, not even a kiss on the cheek.

I hadn’t stopped in for weeks, and my guilt was getting the better of me.  I was also terrified, out of my mind.  Over the weekend, I told him I would visit today; not realizing he had taken a turn of the very worst kind.  As I pulled into the driveway, I caught a glimpse of him on the deck.  My heart smashed to pieces, and before I had a chance to think, John whisked me away in his golf cart.

“I want to talk, let’s go for a ride,” he said.

I argued about him driving, he shushed me away.  I was concerned with the dog, worried he wouldn’t turn the bend and find us.  He pointed toward the weeping cherry he had planted as a reminder of his place on this earth.  I was here.  I mean the world to you, and I will always, always love you.  Don’t, oh please, don’t forget your time with me.

It was explained in so many heartbreaking words that I wasn’t exactly welcome around the house.  I was shell shocked.  I thought we had worked through this and I couldn’t have felt more betrayed or misunderstood.  But I couldn’t begin to imagine her pain-if I was grieving, I couldn’t imagine how she must feel.  I gasped for air, shifted in my seat.  I began talking and stopped, it was his illness, not mine.

We sat under the apple tree and wept, for what appeared to be hours, but was only moments in time.

“I know you understand, you have to go now.”

I understood,  and said farewell.

Farewell is not goodbye.

 

 

And She Was……

There is a well known fact in this household, rarely spoken of, but my heart beats for him continuously, and he has earned my adoration.  David Byrne, MARRY ME.  🙂  I had the pure privilege of seeing the Talking Heads at Emerald City in Philadelphia, circa 1980.  Front row.  The rolling melodies and heart thumping bass can still be heard in my head, and I am dead serious when I say that the female guitarist made a pass at me.  Ah, the good old days when rock was rock and  a spade a spade.

I had a horrible nightmare last night.  Or I should say this morning-Dwain had decided to go to work, despite the blizzard conditions-he wasn’t answering my calls, he was nowhere to be found.  I awoke in a cold sweat, extremely anxious and confused.  Moments later, while sipping hot coffee, I phoned my husband and my nerves were calmed just by the sound of his voice.  Strange way to start the day…….

As I walked down to the garage, to feed the feline community, I felt it-or, perhaps didn’t feel it is a better way to say this.  No pain.  During Lyme flares, my feet are constantly in pain.  Bone pain, muscle pain-I don’t let it slow me down, but the mere fact that I was pain free was reason enough to look up at the sky and praise Him.  My lymph node has diminished, and there is even a noticeable lift in my loafers.  Oh, how beautiful life is.  And here’s the thang-none of us are promised more than this day.  We have a choice-to be positive among the chaos and confusion, carpe diem,  or, as I did yesterday-we can pout, stomp our feet and be a miserable pain in the ass in general, bringing everyone around us on edge, walking upon proverbial eggshells.

I fail Him each and every day, by thought and deed.  I repent, ask for forgiveness, and concentrate on my future-with my main man, golden retriever and Yeshua-and between the four of us?  We have this, He is working in our lives, whether we see rainbows or coffins-the choice is ours, and I choose life-oh, my dear friends, I choose life~