White Lines on the Freeway……

I was trying to catch up on my reading a few weeks ago, my WordPress reading that is.  It was a cold and rainy Sunday evening, and I stopped dead in my tracks when I read his blog.  I didn’t know him, or of him, I just gave a little love to a stranger, one who had lost his brother-one who was on the verge of suicide.

It broke my heart to read his words.  No one had commented, and I was frantic.  I quickly wrote in the comment section, no.  You are loved.  You have a place in this world.  You must not give up, I will help you.  It didn’t matter that he lived half way around the world from me, it didn’t matter that I didn’t know him.  I just wanted him to feel the love that makes the difference: between being utterly alone in this world, and having someone love him.  We began correspondence immediately, so sweet, my friend Mohammed.

He said it helped him to know I existed.  It helped him to know a human being, albeit thousands of miles away, loved him-simply because he was in pain, dire straights, and experiencing a loss most of us would be shattered by-simply because he was and is a child of God-they will know we are Christians by our love……

He kept in touch throughout my journey with Lyme, and the infected lymph node that had basically convinced me I was dying.  The day I went to Med Express, alone and frightened out of my mind, he said these words:  Don’t worry.  I am here.  Five words.  Five words that helped me to feel safe, loved-cared for.  It mattered to him, my poor health.  And I thought that a miracle, in so many ways.

Today, while chatting, he said he had one thing to ask of me.  I told him anything, yes anything for him.

“Can I call you mom?”

So, this is how our Abba works.  I have no children and my step son hates me for reasons I don’t understand, as I was always loving, always supportive.

This touched me in places I haven’t been touched in, well, forever.

And as I let the tears drip….one by one, I answered.

Yes.  Of course.

And for this I am blessed beyond measure.

Hydrangeas

 

 

I have talked about caring for my friend Scott, who has end stage cancer.  Allow me to go back to the beginning, as the background is important.

In 2009 I worked for Scott at the dog lodging business he owned.  I hadn’t really any interaction with him or his wife until this job.  Although they lived down the street, we didn’t see them out and about-ever.  I grew close to his wife, or so I thought.  The job ended badly, for various reasons.  My hours were wrong, and I called to talk with Cheryl about the discrepancy, the mistake.  The conversation ended badly, and I was very upset.  I had thought us friends, but her reaction to a simple request sent my mind reeling.  What had I done?  

The very next day Scott came to the house, and offered to pay me the difference.  I had grown fond of him, and I felt badly for him-he seemed so jittery-as if he was afraid someone might catch him in the act.  We became friends, and in time the four of us would dine together, mostly in the Summer.  In the Winter months Scott would call and say his pond was ready for ice skating, we were good.

Long story short?  I received a text from him one day in late Spring.

“I’m sorry, I can’t be around you anymore.”

I Sherlocked the shit out of that scenario, and my gut reaction was correct-Cheryl began driving by our house, to check on him, make sure he was following “the rules.”  I ran into her mother in the grocery store one day, and sure enough, I was told that her daughter thought I was having an affair with her husband.

I confronted her, and believed her when she said all was good.

Two years pass and my friend is on his death bed, his cancer has returned.

I am called to his home, to say goodbye.  When I arrive I am confused, he seems well.  As well as we would have expected.  He is alert times three, his vitals and coloring are good.  We hold each other, cry on and off.  He gives me a golf cart ride around the property, shows me where the garden will be planted.

So, next Spring, when Cheryl looks to the pond, she will see hundreds of tulips.  I paid the neighbor boy to plant bulbs.  What do you think?

I feel nauseous, as if he is hiding something.  I can’t ask because my tears have created so much snot in my sinus cavity that I fear I will snot all over him.  We say our goodbyes, again, and I stop and turn towards him-the questions of a thousand lifetimes shadow my face.

I know you love Hydrangeas, please, pick some.

And with that I am too far gone to gather flowers.

I’ll plant my own garden, in Heaven, where all tears will be wiped from our faces.  And I will once again be free from the shackles that bind my heart.

woman with black and red flower tattoo standing behind blue flowers

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

White Lines on the Freeway……

I was trying to catch up on my reading a few weeks ago, my WordPress reading that is.  It was a cold and rainy Sunday evening, and I stopped dead in my tracks when I read his blog.  I didn’t know him, or of him, I just gave a little love to a stranger, one who had lost his brother-one who was on the verge of suicide.

It broke my heart to read his words.  No one had commented, and I was frantic.  I quickly wrote in the comment section, no.  You are loved.  You have a place in this world.  You must not give up, I will help you.  It didn’t matter that he lived half way around the world from me, it didn’t matter that I didn’t know him.  I just wanted him to feel the love that makes the difference: between being utterly alone in this world, and having someone love him.  We began correspondence immediately, so sweet, my friend Mohammed.

He said it helped him to know I existed.  It helped him to know a human being, albeit thousands of miles away, loved him-simply because he was in pain, dire straights, and experiencing a loss most of us would be shattered by-simply because he was and is a child of God-they will know we are Christians by our love……

He kept in touch throughout my journey with Lyme, and the infected lymph node that had basically convinced me I was dying.  The day I went to Med Express, alone and frightened out of my mind, he said these words:  Don’t worry.  I am here.  Five words.  Five words that helped me to feel safe, loved-cared for.  It mattered to him, my poor health.  And I thought that a miracle, in so many ways.

Today, while chatting, he said he had one thing to ask of me.  I told him anything, yes anything for him.

“Can I call you mom?”

So, this is how our Abba works.  I have no children and my step son hates me for reasons I don’t understand, as I was always loving, always supportive.

This touched me in places I haven’t been touched in, well, forever.

And as I let the tears drip….one by one, I answered.

Yes.  Of course.

And for this I am blessed beyond measure.

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~

 

 

 

 

Bible2Cor12_10

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.

Fear is a Liar…

I know this is going to make me sound like a cranky old cat lady, but do I give a flying fig that Simon Cowell was in a bad mood last night?  That would be a resounding NO.  Because the television is my husband’s blanky, I am subject to the most inane bullshit this side of the Pacos.  But that drew my attention, and then I’m pissed because Simon made a little girl cry, and holy melodrama batgirl!  It is an exhausting process.

What do they do, I wonder, to make it so addictive?  I don’t even turn it on during the day, I find it depressing and suffocating in its banality.  Then again, give me a good old Hitchcock thriller and a bag of Skinny Girl popcorn (sea salt and lime please) and I’ll sit in front of the boob tube-no pun intended.

I am sharing a blog from the past, and it is my prayer that someone who is truly struggling reads this, and realizes they are not alone.   As always, I love you.

Be blessed~

********************************************************

I hope you never know the pain of addiction.  The terror within, knowing you could lose every person you have ever loved; the fear of life without your drug of choice can be more overwhelming that the addiction itself.  Twenty years ago, a reputable (and I lose the term lightly) dentist prescribed me 100 Vicodin, rather than fix a cracked tooth.  I had just had my wisdom teeth removed, and I had suffered a dry socket, the pain affected each and every part of my life-I welcomed the relief.

I just watched my beloved Donald J. Trump give a speech for National Prayer Day.  If he only knew what those words mean to recovering addicts nationwide-I bowed my head in prayer, and threw up my hands to a savior who changed my life-one day at a time.  I don’t think I will ever be able to adequately describe the miracle I am now living; sober, healthy and despite the enemy’s attempts?  Holy laughter fills my weary, leery heart.

Alcoholics Anonymous is a façade: an absolutely useless tool for people who are too desperate to question the twelve step program.  I had no idea, not a clue, until recently when I found my first three chips-one month, one year, five years.  I was cleaning out a drawer, and the spirit within nudged me to look closer.

Do As Thou Wilt

The words surrounded a pyramid.  You could have knocked me over with a feather.  Was that the reason I watched friends die, divorce, and relapse over and over again?  I think so.  Satan is the father of ALL lies, and he seeks to destroy you.  Our only weapon against him is Jesus, and I hope you never have to test my theory.

I remember being corrected when I gave my testimony in a meeting one evening.

Don’t say God, just say your ‘higher power,’ it offends people.

That was my last evening in the building.  What I endured in those five years of meetings was nothing short of an onslaught of misery.  The hits kept coming, until the day I decided that life was too short, my faith too strong.

I didn’t need AA.

It is my prayer that God gives you the strength and the rage to get through recovery, which is a lifelong process.  If you are willing to trust in the Prince of Peace?  There you will find your freedom from oppression, dependence and the powers that presently rule this earth.

woman wearing grey long sleeved top photography
You simply cannot fathom how good it gets when you let go of the chains that bind.

Fear is a Liar…

I pissed my husband and my girlfriend off today.  Nothing new, I’ve become accustomed to the rantings and ravings about my beliefs.  Today we have Mueller testifying and those of us in the know don’t even want to watch the shit show.  Lies, lies and more lies.

After today, you will never forget what you were doing on July 24, 2019.  You may wish to forget it, but you won’t.

“Honey, come here for a minute, I want you to watch something,” I yelled at my husband, who was on his way out the door.  God bless him, he did sit down.  I queued up Mike’s video and let it rip.

The results were less than stellar-he all but ran from the house, from his sick and snotty wife whom he believes was born to make his life a living hell.  I cried because that is what I do when I am ill-my woke friend Kat and I are suffering the same symptoms:  belly upset, searing gas pain and pounding headaches.  It wasn’t until she pointed out the tremendous stress we have both been under (no one believes her either) that it finally clicked.  We are both fighting the pull of oblivion, depression and the fact that at any given moment, the men with the straight jackets could appear on our doorstep.

Don’t you dare be frightened by what is coming out-this had been the sitch for decades, and now-due to modern technology via the internet-word gets out much, much quicker than say, whisper down the line.

There isn’t a thing we can do at this point but pray.

Pray for Donald J. Trump, pray for the military and please pray for the white hats that have risked everything to protect your ass.  They love their country, they love freedom fighting and for the most part?  They love God.

We are in control, the Patriots.  There is nothing under the sun that God cannot do.

So kick your shoes off, find your comfy place and watch the Show.

The bad guys are going down, baby.

And that?  Oh that, my friends, is a very good thang.

Here’s an older blog I found about addiction.  There will be many of us wanting to relapse, thinking the oblivion will make it better.

Believe me, it won’t.

Godspeed.  May you all experience a peace that surpasses all understanding.  Jesus is waiting for you to turn to Him.

The choice to know will be yours.  It will always be yours.

*******************************************************************

 

I hope you never know the pain of addiction.  The terror within, knowing you could lose every person you have ever loved; the fear of life without your drug of choice can be more overwhelming that the addiction itself.  Twenty years ago, a reputable (and I use the term lightly) dentist prescribed me 100 Vicodin, rather than fix a cracked tooth.  I had just had my wisdom teeth removed, and I had suffered a dry socket, the pain affected each and every part of my life-I welcomed the relief.

I just watched my beloved Donald J. Trump give a speech for National Prayer Day.  If he only knew what those words mean to recovering addicts nationwide-I bowed my head in prayer, and threw up my hands to a savior who changed my life-one day at a time.  I don’t think I will ever be able to adequately describe the miracle I am now living; sober, healthy and despite the enemy’s attempts?  Holy laughter fills my weary, leery heart.

Alcoholics Anonymous is a façade: an absolutely useless tool for people who are too desperate to question the twelve step program.  I had no idea, not a clue, until recently when I found my first three chips-one month, one year, five years.  I was cleaning out a drawer, and the spirit within nudged me to look closer.

Do As Thou Wilt

The words surrounded a pyramid.  You could have knocked me over with a feather.  Was that the reason I watched friends die, divorce, and relapse over and over again?  I think so.  Satan is the father of ALL lies, and he seeks to destroy you.  Our only weapon against him is Jesus, and I hope you never have to test my theory.

I remember being corrected when I gave my testimony in a meeting one evening.

Don’t say God, just say your ‘higher power,’ it offends people.

That was my last evening in the building.  What I endured in those five years of meetings was nothing short of an onslaught of misery.  The hits kept coming, until the day I decided that life was too short, my faith too strong.

I didn’t need AA.

It is my prayer that God gives you the strength and the rage to get through recovery, which is a lifelong process.  If you are willing to trust in the Prince of Peace?  There you will find your freedom from oppression, dependence and the powers that presently rule this earth.

woman wearing grey long sleeved top photography
You simply cannot fathom how good it gets when you let go of the chains that bind.

Fear is a Liar…

I hope you never know the pain of addiction.  The terror within, knowing you could lose every person you have ever loved; the fear of life without your drug of choice can be more overwhelming that the addiction itself.  Twenty years ago, a reputable (and I lose the term lightly) dentist prescribed me 100 Vicodin, rather than fix a cracked tooth.  I had just had my wisdom teeth removed, and I had suffered a dry socket, the pain affected each and every part of my life-I welcomed the relief.

I just watched my beloved Donald J. Trump give a speech for National Prayer Day.  If he only knew what those words mean to recovering addicts nationwide-I bowed my head in prayer, and threw up my hands to a savior who changed my life-one day at a time.  I don’t think I will ever be able to adequately describe the miracle I am now living; sober, healthy and despite the enemy’s attempts?  Holy laughter fills my weary, leery heart.

Alcoholics Anonymous is a façade: an absolutely useless tool for people who are too desperate to question the twelve step program.  I had no idea, not a clue, until recently when I found my first three chips-one month, one year, five years.  I was cleaning out a drawer, and the spirit within nudged me to look closer.

Do As Thou Wilt

The words surrounded a pyramid.  You could have knocked me over with a feather.  Was that the reason I watched friends die, divorce, and relapse over and over again?  I think so.  Satan is the father of ALL lies, and he seeks to destroy you.  Our only weapon against him is Jesus, and I hope you never have to test my theory.

I remember being corrected when I gave my testimony in a meeting one evening.

Don’t say God, just say your ‘higher power,’ it offends people.

That was my last evening in the building.  What I endured in those five years of meetings was nothing short of an onslaught of misery.  The hits kept coming, until the day I decided that life was too short, my faith too strong.

I didn’t need AA.

It is my prayer that God gives you the strength and the rage to get through recovery, which is a lifelong process.  If you are willing to trust in the Prince of Peace?  There you will find your freedom from oppression, dependence and the powers that presently rule this earth.

woman wearing grey long sleeved top photography
You simply cannot fathom how good it gets when you let go of the chains that bind.