tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25039545537501292192024-03-19T04:52:26.442-04:00Because I Am Who I AmUnder construction. Thank you for your patience (:Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger264125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2503954553750129219.post-64308882873405250262021-02-10T09:04:00.001-05:002022-01-01T22:54:42.096-05:00Hermit Status<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL44o35iRx0j3elVfagLqlf1BWNj3tV9JVy208doW_0mNeud2vOfnHenJNgXmqcNz5BQKwdqm_N_qIjIhDi0tfMH5lBXycaRCD-4pqXfOIlMscW-ESAwcHQSxAFqsloVdMzcDQYuiiKtn5/s711/IMG_0996.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="711" data-original-width="711" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL44o35iRx0j3elVfagLqlf1BWNj3tV9JVy208doW_0mNeud2vOfnHenJNgXmqcNz5BQKwdqm_N_qIjIhDi0tfMH5lBXycaRCD-4pqXfOIlMscW-ESAwcHQSxAFqsloVdMzcDQYuiiKtn5/w200-h200/IMG_0996.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Here we are. We've arrived into a new year. Actually, we're over a month into the New Year but, to be fair, I started this post on January second. A lot has happened since January second. Not specifically in my life. I've been at home, avoiding people, per usual. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">In America, an awful lot has happened. The Capitol was attacked & we're finding out, as the news slowly comes out, so many were involved. It hurts my soul that so many people feel this was necessary to get their point across. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span>I'm praying a lot. I'm doing what I need to do for self-care. I'm slowly morphing into the healed human that I can finally love. I'm learning that I am deserving of giving, and receiving love. </span><span>You have to have "been there" to understand that last statement, I suppose. </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">After deleting 800+ people from Facebook last year, I received a lot of mixed reviews. Much more shade than I would have liked but, that's what happens, I guess. I did, however, find out that who my friends actually are & I have very few. I finally deleted Facebook altogether after the Capitol attack. It's just not the kind of stress that I want to add to my days. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Please keep in mind, deleting people wasn't intended to hurt feelings. I just had to stop sharing everything with everybody. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">I'm aware how incredibly shocking this is, considering I've always shared publicly. Again, it's not intended to be hateful. I promise. So, if I have deleted you, and you somehow stumble across this, I haven't stopped being the exact same person I've been, I just need some quiet. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">I notice, the less I ingest of other people's lives, the better off I am. The pickup & drop-off lines at school is the extent of my travel these day</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">s, unless there's a Wal-Mart pickup. That's about it. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">I've been back home about six months now, after adventuring out for about two years. I've been a stay-at-home-mom for so many years now, depression has proved difficult. </span><span style="font-size: large;">Depression is a lot of things and it definitely doesn't do me any favors or cut me any slack but, I get up everyday & give this life all I've got. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div><p></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2503954553750129219.post-88986986770919121782020-12-27T16:34:00.001-05:002020-12-27T18:11:30.485-05:00The Year of Abandonment | Literally & Figuratively (To Be Heard)<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7xAdbHsBaNqxb5_5Xyvl6BY9AKv-ZFk52FylaRYXsxJT6Pe-Usbg52QR0IWiRlKZ-lsMhKAioY2ijPffHgUCnfbFy8tz8HvUZZX4g8vn_bmbF9tLRhq1fHE0UtN1sSRSDWwM6wVDTXuiQ/s2048/IMG_4158.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7xAdbHsBaNqxb5_5Xyvl6BY9AKv-ZFk52FylaRYXsxJT6Pe-Usbg52QR0IWiRlKZ-lsMhKAioY2ijPffHgUCnfbFy8tz8HvUZZX4g8vn_bmbF9tLRhq1fHE0UtN1sSRSDWwM6wVDTXuiQ/w200-h150/IMG_4158.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Over and over, I get the urge to write. I get the urge to unload the heaviness of my empathetic soul through tiny taps on the keyboard. I'm 41, I still look at the keys to type & I prefer it that way. Not that you wanted to know that but, now you do. You're welcome, for that, tiny little tidbit, of useless information. </span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Twenty-twenty has been an invigorating year for me, emotionally. I started a book called The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron & it helped to open up areas that I needed to work in. That was mid-February.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Insert pandemic into an already emotional journey, that I have been on, for five and a half years now. Time is flying by & I daily remind myself to be present. Not to get caught up in the things that don't deserve my energy. I struggle terribly with this. I'm very easily side-tracked. I've been working on this post since last week.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I left organized religion this summer. I really don't know how else to elaborate on that. It wasn't specifically my (former) church; mainly, it was the overall oppression projected onto the gay community by the modern church, as a whole.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I've questioned the modern church's stance on the gay community since I actively started seeking Him (Jesus, for those of you that aren't Christian) in 2010. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Side note: it's been more than 10 years & I'm pretty excited about that. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I wasn't raised in church. I literally knew nothing about the Bible. Nothing about Jesus. I went to church a handful of times. I have a handful of memories through childhood, that involved church. As I type that, I know I've said that before. I'll go back later and see if I can find that post. There could be many. I talk a lot. Obviously. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Please, be under no impression that I'm an expert. I am not. I am, however, a disciple of Jesus & if you don't know that by the way that I live, I'm not doing what I am called to do, as a Christian. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I don't think God would be pleased with the way LGBTQ community is being treated. The God that I love & cherish wouldn't turn people away. Period.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I no longer wanted to be affiliated with any church that could treat people in such a manner that doesn't even acknowledge their existence. Could you imagine being treated that way?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I started searching the internet. I actually miss encyclopedias a bit, but the internet is so much more accessible. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I searched "could the Bible be misinterpreted about homosexuality", or something of that nature. I can't remember exactly what it was, but it led me to <a href="http://canyonwalkerconnections.com/word-homosexual-first-introduced-bible/">this article. </a> I highly recommend you read it. It will only be the beginning. Well, it was the beginning for me. I want to share an excerpt of this article:</span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><span>"</span><span style="background-color: white;">Amongst those tens of thousands of documents, there was a single exchange from the mid-1950s of three letters in each directions between a young seminarian and Dr. Weigle. The seminarian questioned Dr. Weigle and the team’s theological translation of </span><i style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">arsenokoitai</i><span style="background-color: white;"> and </span><i style="background: rgb(255, 255, 255); border: 0px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">malakos</i><span style="background-color: white;"> as “homosexual.” With impressive detail, grace and humility, the seminarian fully and articulately substantiated a most excellent case as to why he believed “homosexual” was an inaccurate translation. If was as if this young man had an uncanny clarity we have today about the translation of two specific Greek words. It was remarkable!"</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">I can't express how reading this made me feel. I was in tears. I am currently reading Walking the Bridgeless Canyon: Repairing the Breach Between the Church & the LGBT Community. You can purchase it <a href="http://canyonwalkerconnections.com/product/walking-the-bridgeless-canyon-repairing-the-breach-between-the-church-and-the-lgbt-community/">here</a>, if you're interested. I also purchased the study guide. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">I've been writing this for too long & decided that I must stop here. I have so much that I need to say, that I start cramming everything into one post. It's been so long since I've written. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Since leaving the church, there have been very few people that are supportive of my decision. It's not spoken, but it's felt. However, ministry begins outside those doors & God is working through me; no amount of "christian" condemnation will change that. </span></p><p><br /></p><p><a href="http://canyonwalkerconnections.com/word-homosexual-first-introduced-bible/"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></a></p><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2503954553750129219.post-53515536387122338802020-03-10T05:31:00.000-04:002020-03-10T05:37:19.027-04:00Healing is Possible<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">It's been a year, yesterday, since I've written. I think I've finally made it to a point where I'm willing to share. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">I have been immersing myself in scripture daily because I need Jesus. I don't know about you, but I do. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large; text-align: center;">Situations, circumstances, people, self!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Yes, I need Jesus. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Whether or not my own actions cause me turmoil, or the actions of others, I am ALWAYS seeking scripture.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">As a matter of fact, that's what landed me in front of the computer as I dye my hair & relax while Laurel naps. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">{I started this post weeks ago & stopped because I judge the pen I put to paper much more harshly than anyone ever could} </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">That being said, the scripture that I found about having a good heart in difficult times is:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;">Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear. - </span><span style="background-color: white;">Ephesians 4:29 (ESV)</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Being good is hard sometimes. The fleshly me wants to say what's on my mind. It's not always appropriate, no matter how much I feel like I need to say it. Why can't we just be honest with each other? </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">Why can't we say things to one another that need to be said? No, that's not how the world works, I suppose. I've been sitting back watching & there's so much focus placed on people, places & things, that we have no space left to just experience life on God's terms. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">My emotions change like the sun & the moon. My mind bounces from thought to thought, with no breaks in between. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">I took the Enneagram Test to see what my personality type is and I am a four, which is the romantic, creative individualist. It totally makes sense.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">There's a</span></span><span style="background-color: white;">nother really vulnerable part of me is that I think that I'll never measure up. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Eeek, seeing that in print stung a bit, but I'm tough & it's true. Sometimes the truth hurts, and that's okay. It can lead to healing, if you let it. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">I'm finally healing. The struggle is still very real. Anxiety and depression are still present but, working through issues instead of "stuffing" them, help me to heal. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">If something deeply effects me, I voice it. I can't not. Setting boundaries & following through with them is EXTREMELY DIFFICULT for me. I think it may be the hardest part of this healing journey so far. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">I've always just done what people expect of me. By that I mean, if someone asks me to do something, I try my best to do what I can to make it happen, but I rarely think of me first & how it will put me & my family out. This is a hard character defect to unlearn. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">I am so much more at peace these days. I've learned to consistently say no to things that I don't want to do. I can choose. I don't have to do everything. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">Sure, my days are still pretty much chaos but, I have a husband, 3 kids, a business of which I own and manage, as well as a co-owned business with a partner, that has a storefront. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">My life is chaos. I'm okay with that. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Life is good, so is God & healing is possible. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">If I strike you as different, I am. I no longer take responsibility for someone else's issues and pain by feeding into any of the nonsense. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">I'm clear on exactly where I'm at & if you fit, wonderful. If not, this is a new season of growth for me, it's time to prune dead limbs for new to flourish.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">And flourish, is what He shall do through me. </span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2503954553750129219.post-53343279135186613262019-03-09T12:29:00.000-05:002019-03-09T12:29:42.989-05:00Stay in Your Lane (To Be Heard)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I always have to go back and look at when I started this blog because I can never remember. I think it's April of 2010, and not April of 2009. I joined Facebook in 2009 & little did I know what would be in store for me.<br />
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I always throw this out there because it's hilarious to me now: </div>
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">I thought the Internet was a fad when I was first introduced in 1994. </span></i></div>
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My friend Honey, and her family, had a computer & I knew zip really. No clue what an operating system was.<br />
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Now, I use a computer or a smart phone daily for work & work would suffer if I didn't have either but on the hand, could flourish in a different aspect.<br />
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Anywho, point being: my goal was to write like no one was reading & I've found myself not wanting to share these days. Not because I have anything to hide, but because I get tired of people and their "lofty" opinions of who I should be.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Why can't we just stay in our lane?</i></span> </div>
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I include myself because I dip where I shouldn't every now and again, into something that's absolutely NONE of my business & I've got to check myself. There will be no wrecking myself. Har, har, har. I couldn't resist.<br />
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It's Spring again & we move forward an hour tonight. The years fly by quicker and quicker and I wonder if I'm being left in its (life's) wake, or if I'm growing through what I'm going through. That's important to me. The whole growing process. Growing into who Christ has in store for me regardless of judgment, ridicule & people who bring bitterness to the table. I'm not a huge fan of bitterness. I've been guilty of enough myself, I certainly don't need anyone else's.<br />
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I find myself more and more, removing myself from situations & the people that bring them. I'm not mentally stable enough & don't get it twisted, I'm not "talking down" myself, I just don't have the room for people who are oblivious to the hurt they cause other people because they're hurt. </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2503954553750129219.post-48077961788428532802019-01-27T15:51:00.000-05:002019-01-27T15:51:13.556-05:00January 92nd, 2019 (To Be Heard) <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: large;"> As I sit here in front of this screen, grasping my warm mug of coffee tightly between sentences of thoughts, I'm making myself count my blessings. I have been in such a foul mood for the most of the last two years (or what seems like the most of), I literally have to sit here & make myself count my blessings & pray for others to get myself out of this horrid funk that I'm in. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I've been in and out of one doctor's office or another trying to find the root of the problem. I'm definitely tired of people insinuating that it's all in my head. I have been <a href="https://becauseiamwhoiam.blogspot.com/2018/11/the-pain-filled-stall-to-be-heard.html" target="_blank">clinically diagnosed</a>, but that doesn't mean this nonsense has to last forever & it certainly doesn't mean that my issues are all in my head.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I feel like I've tried everything under the sun trying to "fix" me & nothing has worked. Either my insurance isn't excepted & the bill is too big for me to pay to even be seen, or I try "one more thing" and that's not the answer either. It's a roller coaster that I want to get off of; NOW. I typically like roller coasters, but this one is a little more scary than I am accustomed to. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">All that being said, I'm depending on God 24/7 because I don't have a thing figured out & He knows all, so... When He makes His presence known, time and time again I am grateful for Him & what work He's done in me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Days feel impossible less & less, but they're still overwhelming some days. I thought I'd be "fixed" by now. I thought when I stopped doing drugs eleven years ago, I'd be better. I wouldn't have to struggle this hard just to live. Just to want to live. Just to find joy in the mundane. In the every day. I catch myself saying, "it's not fair" a lot. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">Then, in my mind, that opens the thought of what #4 (my Daddy's fourth wife) use to say, "nobody said life was fair." What does that mean exactly? Why would you tell that to a child? She was bipolar. There's no issue being bipolar, as long as you take your meds and/or learn to cope. That's not how it worked with her. She drank & popped pills & sometimes took her medicine & you want to talk about a roller coaster? Life with her was a roller coaster & the bolts on it weren't tight enough, if you're picking up what I'm laying down.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I had to write this. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">There is not enough room in my mind for all this anxiety. I'm overwhelmed and I need a break. A break from the reality that a whole house full of people need me and I just need to breathe. People freak out when I say things like that but it doesn't change the fact that it how it is. It doesn't make me love my family any less, it makes me need time to be whole. I'm so sick and tired of not feeling whole.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'm not deleting this. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I would ordinarily, but this time, I'm not. People experience things like this all of the time & no one blinks eye, other than to say, "get over it." "You're fine." "You're just tired. You need some rest."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">I am so sick of the stigma associated with mental illness. When people commit suicide, you hear all the time, "I never knew anything was wrong," or some garbage like that. Of course you didn't know anything was wrong because when you reply with, "get over it," or give the blank stare, nobody's gonna tell you anything of substance. Hello?!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I have to talk about the stuff that no one wants to talk about to be okay with me. That's how it works for me. If I hide it, it controls me. I don't want to be controlled by anxiety & depression. I want to want to live & be free. I want to be well. Is that too much to ask? I don't think it is. One day I will be free. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Though the fig tree does not bud</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> and there are no grapes on the vines,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">though the olive crop fails</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> and the fields produce no food,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">though there are no sheep in the pen</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> and no cattle in the stalls,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> yet I will rejoice in the Lord,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> I will be joyful in God my Savior.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">--- Habakkuk 3:17-18 (NIV)</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2503954553750129219.post-92233130608230045492019-01-02T23:54:00.000-05:002019-01-02T23:54:27.741-05:00Iron Sharpens Iron (To Be Heard)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-size: large;">This last year has brought so much emotion. I have been broken & repaired by the Great Physician. He always takes care of me, even when I question His timing; which I do frequently.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">My blog posts are few & far between with all that is happening in the recent months. My dreams are literally coming true. A friend and I are opening a store downtown on January 19th & my carport is filled with transforming displays. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">My sewing machine is at the shop. Yes, the shop. The place that I go to work. That feels so good to say that. I have been at home raising children for the last eleven years & although I will still be raising children and that will be my first priority, I have a place to call my own. I get to go to work. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">A place to create. A place to go to that is for me. It's easy to lose your identity when you're a stay-at-home-mom. My identity has been wrapped up in milestones & chores. Chores that never seem to get finished and never seem to be appreciated. They are, of course, but it doesn't seem that way sometimes. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">As I appreciate that God has given me my desires, I know that we rise by lifting others. I am so blessed to lift.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another. - Proverbs 27:17</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2503954553750129219.post-15712195678427756572018-11-18T21:38:00.000-05:002018-11-18T21:38:19.667-05:00The Pain-Filled Stall (To Be Heard)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjInwC1jCQNpHMkihgRoeL7teHzmKAzk79yohlr8xE-a2nyApTQP9UUUZTA7EWm-rYuk4EyFyDk7z7pPv6C8xdQw2zUtcWw_mKNn5yfER4sCZCvEFUpHrdSPDjAebasLoKd0TAIrU0PXAmj/s1600/the+stall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="1000" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjInwC1jCQNpHMkihgRoeL7teHzmKAzk79yohlr8xE-a2nyApTQP9UUUZTA7EWm-rYuk4EyFyDk7z7pPv6C8xdQw2zUtcWw_mKNn5yfER4sCZCvEFUpHrdSPDjAebasLoKd0TAIrU0PXAmj/s200/the+stall.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
It's been three months since I've written; here, anyhow. I've written in private extensively, just not here. Today it became painfully clear that it's time to stop avoiding obedience.<br />
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Is the road clear? Am I okay to share now? I honestly don't know but I can't wait another minute to. I haven't been blogging or posting live <a href="https://www.facebook.com/alishafincher/videos_by" target="_blank">Facebook videos</a> due to the fact that I haven't been able to share this publicly because of fear. Fear of what someone may say, how they may judge or blah, blah, blah----a million other things to be afraid of.<br />
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As I was speaking in Bible study at the jail this afternoon, I caught myself say, "people are gonna judge. It doesn't matter what you do. They can be saying one thing to your face & feel a completely different way." Amen? I would like to believe that everyone says what they mean and means what they say but I'm not that naive. That's not how the world works.<br />
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Here goes...<br />
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On September 20th, I had to admit myself to St. Simon's By The Sea. It's local rehabilitation center known in my area for help with substance abuse. <b>Here's the thing, I didn't use. I wanted to.</b> In my mind, I felt weak. Like I should have been able to deal and/or cope on my own, but I couldn't. I found myself on a daily basis, sitting in my kitchen floor crying, for no real reason at all, but everything all at once.<br />
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I'd been having thoughts of suicide & that's not like me at all. I typically love life & the people I'm surrounded by, so when suicidal thoughts rear their ugly head, I know I've made it to a dark place & it's time to do something different. I've been in that dark place before a few times throughout my life & when I get "there", there's not much lower I can go. It's time to seek help.<br />
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Honestly, it's been brutal since Laurel was born. I thought I could "handle"it. I thought it would end sooner or later but it hasn't. The day before I checked in, I called my obgyn, rode to Brunswick for an "emergency" visit & told him I needed to schedule a hysterectomy; twenty minutes ago. I told him what I was experiencing & he said, "well Alisha, what if it doesn't change anything? "And of course, I'm like, what do you mean? Long story short, he recommends that I see a psychiatrist. I tell him I'm not crazy, but I respect his opinion and will do what he thinks is best.<br />
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All my life I've been conditioned to just take things. To stuff them. To keep on stuffing them. Early on because children should be seen and not heard, pretty much. My teen years & early adulthood mostly because women shouldn't be "as loud as I am and have an opinion".<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">"You just stand over there & look pretty," I've been told. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">If you know me, then you know that went over about as well as a bull in a China shop.</span></div>
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<b style="text-align: left;"> I have stopped myself, I can't tell you how many times over the last two months, from writing this because of judgment so if that is why you're here, so you can spread the word about what a kook I am, STEP OFF. If you feel the need to tell me about how emotional I am, you can SHUT IT & STEP OFF. I absolutely have no time for that garbage. The voices that have expressed it, have been loud enough for me to mention and I'm sick of it. You dig? </b></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">Basically, I've been on-and-off of antidepressants & nothing has worked. In the nut ward ( yes, I called it that the whole time I was there & still do), I was able to speak with a psychiatrist about what was happening & he decided on a medicine that he thought may work for me. It makes me flat. I love being extra. Extra is who I am by nature. I love me like I am. I just don't want to be either angry all the time, or crying in my kitchen floor. I have no idea why that's the place that I go to lose my shit, but I do. Yes I said shit. Poop isn't an adequate description. I reiterate, judge somebody else. </span></div>
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I stayed at SSI by the sea for four days, When I came home, I wasn't sure anything would be any different, but slowly, the medicine started to work and I am able to enjoy the little moments again. </div>
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The anxiety attacks are less and less and the good times are more. </div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">It's likely I'll forget the major part of what I wanted to talk about, but I think this is sufficient, for now. God is using this to grow me & help others, I am sure of it. I do feel a bit better now that I am not crying all of the time. I was isolating & wouldn't go anywhere. I would cancel events. I wouldn't visit with friends. It still happens, but not nearly as much. </span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><b>If there is someone you know that is suffering PLEASE, <span style="font-size: large;">reach out to them</span>. Tell them how much you love them. Encourage them to seek treatment. </b></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">So often we say (referring to someone who has committed suicide): I never knew anything was wrong. </span></b></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><b>If someone is giving you cues that something is wrong, <span style="font-size: large;">quit being so quick to judge & listen. </span>HELP THEM. Start by praying for them. <span style="font-size: large;">Telling someone to "get over it" is NOT HELPFUL.</span> Believe me, if I could just get over it, I wouldn't being experiencing this for this long. </b></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><b>The only way that I made it this far is God & for the people who consistently pray for me. </b></span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. Philippians 4:13</span></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2503954553750129219.post-9089537539798188222018-08-19T06:56:00.000-04:002018-08-19T06:56:42.762-04:00Mean Girls, Snarky Comebacks & Weakness (To Be Heard)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I woke up at 3 am this morning. I went to the gym. I've been tapering off my anxiety medication & I'm almost done with it. It's been a process, much like everything else in my life. My Gramma spent a great deal of her life taking medication for mental illness & I don't want that to be me. It very well could be, if I let it.<br />
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I've had some impossible days lately. As a matter of fact, I get where I can't breathe. I mean that figuratively, not literally. I have a lot of irons in the fire. The fact that I'm sitting here trying to figure out how to word this without adding any new ridicule & judgement to my list is what's the worst.<br />
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Look---Shark Week is almost here & since the last two babies, it's not one week, it's two weeks out of a month where I'd rather cut certain people than talk to them; or even think about them for that matter. And by certain, I mean three specific people. But here's the thing, I NEVER see them.<br />
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They've added me on Facebook, but they don't follow me. You know what I'm talking about. The mean girls that are entitled and present themselves as something completely different than what they really are. Ugh, it gives me a headache.<br />
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I'm aware how paranoid this sounds. My Gramma told me a long time ago to trust my gut. She was rarely wrong. If my intuition, my instinct leads me in a certain way, it's likely to be true. Sometimes it's not, but usually...<br />
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I want nothing more than to call them out & be absolutely hateful about it, but what good is that doing? None. The old me comes out sometimes, along with her snarky comebacks & 3rd person references.<br />
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Don't get it twisted. I'm not trying to be cryptic but if I actually, physically called these three heifers out, they would deny, deny, deny 'til the day they die, die, die. My friend Joanie said that to me years ago & it stuck with me. I love her so much. At this point is where I'm thinking that I should probably delete this because somebody will think that this is about them because they're paranoid about what they may or may not have done to someone. Blah. If you're thinking it's about you, ask me. I'll tell you. It's very doubtful that it is though.<br />
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Oh look, squirrel!<br />
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I have to get all of this out of my head because it's hindering me. How, you ask? Or not, but I'll tell you anyway. If you're still here reading this, you already know to settle in.<br />
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Yesterday Evan and I went to his best friend's birthday party! YAY! He loves to play & I absolutely love for him to be happy. Win, win! I totally feel comfortable there because they're awesome Christian people who don't present anything other than what they are & I LOVE THAT! Honestly, these people are totally my people. I say that because I love real & I love kind & they are all that!<br />
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There was a really cool slide there & the steps were super steep. I came prepared to get wet but was reluctant. As I sat there crocheting (off to myself for a while), watching and listening to the fun being had by all, I wanted so bad to climb that slide & see how much fun it was!!<br />
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The voice in my head was like, 'no Alisha,'. And then I started talking to some ladies & that voice presented itself out of my mouth. Who was that? That's not me at all. I'm confident in my abilities. Well, usually. Who was that girl saying that I couldn't? Like, where did she come from? I don't know her. I couldn't believe I was saying those things. Out of my shoes I came, up that ladder I went & down I came. No, it wasn't hard like I made it out to be. Now, if I did it all afternoon, I'm sure I'd be in need of some ibuprofen.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Picture borrowed from Choosing Joy Photography.</td></tr>
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I've been in my current way of eating since the beginning of June & I'm seeing noticeable changes in myself, but I haven't been exercising like I need to. And by need to, I mean mentally. There's a certain amount of exercise that I can do to calm the anxiety beast that exists inside me. It helps me. What? Hello. Is this the answer to calming my anxiety? Of course it is. So why haven't I been doing it?<br />
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Jesus take the wheel.<br />
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I'm really skilled at standing in my own way. I used drugs for 15 years of my life because I was perfecting my "standing in my own way" skills. I've totally got that badge in platinum. Now's definitely the time to implement exercise so, let's see if I'm consistent. My Yoga practice is reasonably consistent. Nah, I guess it's not enough either. I need an hour a day everyday.<br />
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I carve out time for Bible study. Why can't I carve out time for fitness? Oh, but I can. Guess what? The gym is moving to a new location. And guess what else? There will be child care!!! Praise the Lord.<br />
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Sometimes I have an idea of where these posts will head and sometimes I just sit down and write. As I'm finishing up this post, it's 6:42 am and Casting Crowns came on Pandora - <a href="https://www.pandora.com/artist/casting-crowns/lifesong/praise-you-in-this-storm/TRrbdqgglbVz9ZK" target="_blank">Praise You in this Storm</a> comes on & I know He's listening. I know He hears me. I know my prayers are being heard. He knows the strength that I need to continue to serve Him with everything that I am. He knows that I struggle with being snarky,hateful, mean & that my family gets the worst of me sometimes & I always need prayer for that.<br />
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He knows that I be kind & He knows that I can be just as impossible as I can be kind. He knows everything about us. He knows my name.<br />
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<span class="text Luke-12-7" id="en-KJV-25467" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;">But even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not therefore: ye are of more value than many sparrows. - Luke 12:7 (KJV)</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2503954553750129219.post-83093057967883694452018-08-01T00:28:00.002-04:002018-08-01T09:40:15.662-04:00Keep Going (To Be Heard) <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjhyZyULb0OhYlNVuoZu2jug3F5vNYCi4F_kJOoMr3h7fRHLf0Ox9HVHD8Z-MFvxVmo7wqIlxFti4pbhqMAe7vmvTL7vgCkE2UfozqKWYSJ9T0WvKq-pmx46fwDklezyFJsX_P3UV5uWoV/s1600/Photo+Aug+01%252C+12+18+21+AM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjhyZyULb0OhYlNVuoZu2jug3F5vNYCi4F_kJOoMr3h7fRHLf0Ox9HVHD8Z-MFvxVmo7wqIlxFti4pbhqMAe7vmvTL7vgCkE2UfozqKWYSJ9T0WvKq-pmx46fwDklezyFJsX_P3UV5uWoV/s320/Photo+Aug+01%252C+12+18+21+AM.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
As I wait for my coffee to brew, I'll start this post. I've got so many plates in the air, I'm not quite sure how I manage somedays. Other days, I feel as if I don't do enough.<br />
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I'm still poor at time management. I feel like I need a workshop of some sort to show me, step-by-step, where to start because it all seems so overwhelming from the sidelines. Have you ever had that problem? Unsure of where to start, so you just don't?<br />
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I did tackle one of those things that I've been 'meaning to' do. At least my 'meaning to' list is getting shorter. I moved my membership to a local church. It was past time. My church has been closed for years and I've been dragging my feet. I'm trying to let my faith be bigger than my fear. I fail, but I continue to try. Honestly, that's most days. Sometimes I flourish, sometimes I fail. I can't expect perfection. I can strive for greatness always.<br />
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I am excited about my move. Honestly, I have had no desire really to move my membership until helping with Vacation Bible School & I just felt it. I felt the Holy Spirit nudging me to take a leap of faith & move; so I did. I'm pleased with my move.<br />
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Thursday of this week is Open House at NPS & NES. Yes, two schools this year. Wow, the years are moving by quickly. The expression that the days move slow & the years quickly is the absolute truth. I am so overwhelmed and ready to start back to school. No, that's probably not what people 'want to hear' from a stay-at-home-mom, but I'm okay with that, and I'm okay with me. You be okay with you because I've got me.<br />
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I'm looking forward to being kid-free (all of them) from 8-2 for two days a week. Maybe that doesn't sound like a whole lot of time, but I can regroup a bit during that time. I can be Alisha. I can do what I want to do & not have to pick up after anyone. Sure sounds selfish, doesn't it? It's not. There's nothing wrong with aiming to be mentally fit to parent & that's what I consider from free time. It's like a spa for my brain. Yeah, it's late & I'm rambling.<br />
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I'm thinking I need to make myself a schedule & NOT break it. That would help with my time management. Maybe I'm on to something. I've been trying to leave the house earlier to be on time to things. I'm doing better. Okay, not always, but better than I was.<br />
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It's funny, I started composing this today sometime, while I was brewing a cup of coffee & I'm finishing it, brewing a cup of coffee. I'm so predictable. I didn't even use to drink coffee. Funny. I finally got the baby to sleep. After two long rides around the farm, I laid her in her crib & she went down. I'm serious, some days seem completely impossible but the simple fact is this: they're great. I can't ask for anything more. Any one day saved beats all the days I was lost.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6f0gj1BLcO4UgpKhDQY2GB7Gq9UCGtVRdpEMUnWR3a54pgK9GNAdst04Z643-7efWXaPyNw9m23-Tb2GIz14h2awi4oyKb4jcF4c4FRvZ2O76pktTM5d8rwODJnKJwDpAnY2daiA7mTQX/s1600/Photo+Jul+31%252C+2+50+38+PM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6f0gj1BLcO4UgpKhDQY2GB7Gq9UCGtVRdpEMUnWR3a54pgK9GNAdst04Z643-7efWXaPyNw9m23-Tb2GIz14h2awi4oyKb4jcF4c4FRvZ2O76pktTM5d8rwODJnKJwDpAnY2daiA7mTQX/s200/Photo+Jul+31%252C+2+50+38+PM.jpg" width="150" /></a><br />
As I went for my follow up today at the dentist, it started pouring down rain. I pulled over on the side of the road and took this picture.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Right now, if you're experiencing something, keep going; there will be a break in the clouds.</b></span> That's all I could think when I saw this. It made me think of the post partum depression that I've made it through (PRAISE THE LORD) for the second time & I am so grateful that I kept going. <span style="font-size: large;">God is in control. If He leads us to it, He'll lead us through it. </span><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">KEEP GOING!</span></b></div>
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I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. Philippians 4:13</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2503954553750129219.post-23964289560496393362018-06-28T16:49:00.001-04:002018-06-28T16:49:42.308-04:00Why Us? (To Be Heard) <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I have been insanely busy with this whole thing called life. Parenthood can be rough sometimes, summer sends a shock wave into my neatly written out schedule every year it comes; nevertheless, I adjust. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The kids and I have been going on adventures every week to get us out of the house and into nature. I have taken some rather beautiful photos of our adventures & we have experienced some wonderful times. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">We just got back from vacation last week to walk into our home, that I was so ready to be back to, and found out our home had been broken into. To say that this was a violation doesn't even cover how I've been feeling. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I've gone from completely losing my composure, to not feeling safe in my own home, to being angry & asking, "why, us?" to knowing that God's got us covered. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">My husband told me it happened to us because we're people, too. Which is the obvious answer but it's the truth. We're not exempt. I guess I've just been overwhelmed by it all because when it hits your home, you realize how bad things really are. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">At any rate, I'm slowly getting back to feeling okay again. We're having a security system installed in a few days, I've almost decided on the gun I'll be purchasing for protection, if such a thing ever happens again and I pray that it doesn't, but I will be prepared for next time. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I'm praying for those who did it. I know there's good in every person but when they're breaking into my home to steal things that we've earned by an honest living, it's hard for me to see the good. It just makes me want to pinch their little heads off. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I'm praying for me too. I've been having a hard time with this whole situation. I've worried for many years that something like this would happen & then once I stopped worrying about it, it did. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I know God's got a plan for this storm. I feel it my bones. To someone who doesn't serve the Lord,. I'm sure I sound like some religious fanatic. That's okay. That happens a lot.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">There is something the Lord's got in store for me from this situation. I've known He's got something for me for a while now, but He just hasn't made it known to me yet. This just furthers my suspicion. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><b><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; text-align: justify;">And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to </span><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; text-align: justify;">his</span><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; text-align: justify;"> purpose. - Romans 8:28 (KJV)</span></b></i></span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2503954553750129219.post-76594050915451021032018-05-20T08:13:00.000-04:002018-05-20T08:13:42.752-04:00He Knows Me (To Be Heard)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGo2pQ0G9sGjFE-wtF9ltIHoW09NjgllA1gGHaXWGY_X_V-vB9nBXmLtFFKAC1fJA-gdXtfX4vXL9HAsIR4Vpqxv49GcuJIhuDdm9o9GVGld1huk_PazKhCvbNV5lfH5DkEoTVNS9Z5jzY/s1600/Photo+May+20%252C+7+16+15+AM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGo2pQ0G9sGjFE-wtF9ltIHoW09NjgllA1gGHaXWGY_X_V-vB9nBXmLtFFKAC1fJA-gdXtfX4vXL9HAsIR4Vpqxv49GcuJIhuDdm9o9GVGld1huk_PazKhCvbNV5lfH5DkEoTVNS9Z5jzY/s320/Photo+May+20%252C+7+16+15+AM.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">There's always a season in life that seems impossible. I had this silly notion that Christianity came with rainbows, moonbeams & skipping through a field of daisies always. You've probably heard me talk about that <a href="http://becauseiamwhoiam.blogspot.com/2014/04/im-in-new-world-since-lord-saved-me.html" target="_blank">before</a>. I tend to repeat myself. Repetition is a good way to learn. Wait, what? You mean learning is the whole objective? Maybe one day I'll get it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">These days I'm learning to have a little talk with Jesus first before running anywhere else. I'm pushing myself to "start with Him". I know that seems like the obvious answer but life can tend to get in the way, if I let it & I don't want to let it. My flesh is impossible some days; okay, most days. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I repeatedly step out in faith & let Him take care of things. No, I haven't got "there" yet & by "there" I mean, when I give it all to Him, I DON'T take it back, I let Him keep it. Nope, not there yet, but that's the goal. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I want to walk in victory while I'm here in this Earthly body. I want to curb this flesh from things my sin nature tells me are okay. I'm not the person I use to be. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new. </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>- 2 Corinthians 5:17</i></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I thought this would be easier. Wait a minute, evidently I didn't because it took me forever to change the way I was living. And it took a life-altering experience for it to <a href="https://becauseiamwhoiam.blogspot.com/2018/01/sunday-feels-10-years-clean.html" target="_blank">happen</a>. I am so grateful for the experience that changed my life. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">My point?</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">I've been praying for God to see me through this season & others, as well. For two days, He's told me to Be still. Clearly ironic, if you know me. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">He knows me. </span></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2503954553750129219.post-16562589902713900362018-05-13T23:10:00.000-04:002018-06-11T00:33:53.044-04:00Motherless Child (To Be Heard)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaSdBY6VdoZ-dkfikBvPWGkWg7-es7Q9F2A7pHQBbB0pCIr7MwHAMAP9R1goQ_h2IxLSBkzJ9NNc9x7JmvyZB1PV9ywx2OoBIQKgTawzUWQOiEARjTQWnTK6B78NS-9X7zjg9g9RwubFVT/s1600/225495_1038537130769_5385777_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="604" data-original-width="395" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaSdBY6VdoZ-dkfikBvPWGkWg7-es7Q9F2A7pHQBbB0pCIr7MwHAMAP9R1goQ_h2IxLSBkzJ9NNc9x7JmvyZB1PV9ywx2OoBIQKgTawzUWQOiEARjTQWnTK6B78NS-9X7zjg9g9RwubFVT/s200/225495_1038537130769_5385777_n.jpg" width="130" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">When I was in high school Eric Clapton came out with this incredible album of blues remakes called <i>From the Cradle</i>. It was/is on my list of favorites that I still can't live without; google it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">On this album, there's a song called <i>Motherless Child. </i></span><span style="font-size: large;">I listened to that song on replay with my boombox with the CD player. I was so proud of that CD player. It was the first one that I ever had. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">During the time that disc came out, my mother had disowned me. Yes, I'm aware of how dramatic I am on the day-to-day so you're thinking I'm exaggerating; nope. She sent me a book of a letter with all the pictures she had of me, report cards & my hospital bracelet that I got when I was born. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I was fifteen years old & everything she had from my life fit in a nice letter-sized manilla envelope. Convenient, I know. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">This day (Mother's Day) has been a festering wound in my side for my entire life because my mother never wanted me. You know the expression "actions speak louder than words"? Yeah, me too. And yes, they sure do. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Don't get it twisted, this isn't a post bashing my mother. Nope. These are just facts & up until now, I haven't been strong enough to type them in a post because I was afraid of what someone might say, or if it would offend someone, but you know what? I've been offended my entire life because my mother has never had time for me, unless it was beneficial to her, or on her time, or if it was okay with her [current] husband/man. Yep, I sure enough just did. I don't mean that in any other way than it's intended.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Several years ago, I sought help from a Christian counselor who performed EMDR on me. I used my mother as an example because she was a huge block in my drug recovery. I found that out when I was working "The Fourth Step - A Moral Inventory". </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">My sponsor told me I needed a therapist because she wasn't equipped to help me. HAHA! True story. Well, she was right. I spent the next nine months digging out bad & boy, do I feel better! It's three years later this July & I'm still making progress.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">When she performed the EMDR, which is basically a series of questions, she asked me, "what would you tell that little girl?" and out of nowhere, I burst out in tears and said,"it's not your fault."</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'm welling up with tears right now just thinking about how good that felt & how much it helped me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">It's not my fault that my mother is incapable of being a mother. Some people aren't. For years, I excused her behavior by believing it was because her mother died at a young age and she didn't know how because she didn't have one. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Guess what? </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I don't have one either but my kids are my first priority. Yes, I am well aware that the Bible says your husband is first, but spend your life thinking your mom doesn't want you and see who you prioritize first. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">God's working on me. He'll take care of everything. He's molding me into what He wants me to be. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">This year, I'm okay that she doesn't want anything to do with me for whatever time this is. In fact, it's better this way. My children don't have to hurt like used to. And if, at this point you're reading and want to comment, "but she's your mother," please don't. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">She only gave birth to me & for that, I am grateful, because I have three beautiful, smart, safe, secure, confident, cherished children that she will never know & a daughter that she's never known.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">>>>My God is greater than the pain & praise the Lord, this year, the pain is no longer<<<</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2503954553750129219.post-70735476315891073082018-04-06T09:23:00.001-04:002018-04-06T09:23:46.266-04:00Simplicity (To Be Heard)<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">As I gather my thoughts & decide where I'm headed today, I can't help but appreciate the simplicity of what my life has become over the last several months; not to mention, the last decade. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'm working on balance this year. I've always been a procrastinator & I'm coming to learn how to tame the fear that makes procrastination happen for me. I have always been terrified of success. I'm still scooping out the bad (after almost three years) & forming new, more healthy habits. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The irony in that (for me) is that the one thing I have been unable to tame is my healthy weight & that is the one thing I was working so well at before I started on this self-discovery journey. WHOAH. That was a realization. It's almost as if I gave up one for another. That has officially been noted. Maybe there will be some progress there now that there's been a realization. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I like how people are able to fix your problems but can't fix their own. My dear friend once said, "if we could all switch problems...", we'd all be good, or something to that effect. Isn't it funny? Everyone knows how to tend someone else's woes but have a rough time tending their own. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I have had so many posts but cannot manage to make myself sit down to do it. I start writing & then I change my mind. Outside factors get in the way. I'm afraid I'll step on this one's toes, or that one's toes, when in reality, all I want to do is write & everyone is so dang touchy these days. About everything & anything. Seriously, everything. Why can't things be taken at face value & not have another meaning? Can't I just say what I mean and mean what I say? Nope, not these days. People lie. Straight lie. All the time. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I mean, I get it, I guess. I spent fifteen years of my life lying to myself, my family. I thought -- let me rephrase that -- I didn't care any further than what I wanted whether it was affecting anyone else. See? There I go judging. No, it's just stating an opinion. I struggle with the reality that there is a line between judgement and opinion, as a Christian. I teeter on that line sometimes though. I'm flawed. Not an excuse, just a fact. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The harder He works on me, the more stuff I find wrong. Like I said, I started digging almost three years ago & I could have totally bought a backhoe with what it would cost to rent one for three years. Yep, I should have been a comedian. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I thought it would be easier. Okay, no I didn't. I didn't think living right would be easier, or I would've done it sooner. And by living right, I mean what's best for me. No drugs, no alcohol, & serving the Lord the best I can every day for the rest of my life. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I fail miserably. I dust off. I try again. I <i>know</i> without a shadow of a doubt that God is in control of my life. He is what keeps me going on those days that I can't seem to do anything right. When I feel like a complete failure as a mother, a wife, a human being. He knows everything about it & loves me because He knows who I am. He knows who I'm striving to be. He knows what I'm capable of. </span></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that is to be revealed to us. - Romans 8:18</span></i></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2503954553750129219.post-46604544176642105862018-02-14T00:59:00.001-05:002018-02-14T00:59:55.425-05:00Because He Loves Me (To Be Heard)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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When you envision your life, is it what you're living? Are you doing the things you thought you would?<br />
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Several days ago I started this painting. I express myself through art. I was in the feels. Emotions can be painful sometimes. You know when you hear a song & it takes you a to a place where you use to be? Or when you hear a song and it takes you to where you are? Are you ultimately happy where you are?<br />
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I've been going on and on about balance this year. I made it my goal to balance myself, my life, my responsibilities. I can't say that somewhere along the way my balance shifted because honestly, I've never experienced balance in my life. I've always, for as far back as I can remember, been unbalanced.<br />
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I'm experiencing a whole new life. A life reformed. A life without drugs. Without alcohol. A life with boundaries. YES! Boundaries. No, boundaries are HUGE deal. Maybe you're normal & you've always had them in your life. I've not & I'm learning that's okay because I get to learn now.<br />
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I am who God makes me on the daily. Not everyone will love me, but He does, and for that, I am eternally grateful.<br />
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<span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; font-family: Arimo, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; text-align: justify;">Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; font-family: Arimo, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; text-align: justify;">- Matthew 22:37 (NIV)</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2503954553750129219.post-17375344614429264632018-01-24T06:37:00.002-05:002020-12-28T08:21:27.164-05:00Awakening (To Be Heard)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE1-gXbC5FUtBtYE5XUDLLy1-eQSz5dDQTrlIBYtHJw5DahpiXRJmOTDaLx-9aTvKqEOEL6Tvo8BRymgNAYjscRDL-sljxXDgRcXgbzjFesg6vgVxQhFKR-lzQ0QjXRbGgkF-Wvd-_p14z/s1600/Photo+Jan+24%252C+6+11+05+AM.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE1-gXbC5FUtBtYE5XUDLLy1-eQSz5dDQTrlIBYtHJw5DahpiXRJmOTDaLx-9aTvKqEOEL6Tvo8BRymgNAYjscRDL-sljxXDgRcXgbzjFesg6vgVxQhFKR-lzQ0QjXRbGgkF-Wvd-_p14z/s320/Photo+Jan+24%252C+6+11+05+AM.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Four-something o'clock this morning my beautiful eight month old little lady woke me up. She was hungry. It was time for food. As I made my way to the kitchen, she's almost sang herself back to sleep. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I picked her up, snuggled her close, we rocked, and she drank until the milk was gone. Back to bed she went. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Over the last six months, give or take, my anxiety has been off-the-chain high. The older I get, the more I have found myself battling mental illness.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">There, I said it, I struggle with mental illness.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I've never actually said that actual statement before; outloud anyway. No one wants to associate themselves as being mentally ill, do they? I mean, I have never wanted to. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">With growing older, less of the things that use to matter, actually matter anymore. I aim more towards personal growth in Christ, than measurement of worldly successes. Not everyone would agree that best for them, but we're not all the same, are we?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Last Saturday, the Lord spoke to me. He's trying to grow me. He's trying to show me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">His conviction lays heavy on my heart. He wants all of me. Not just what I am willing to give. Everything. He wants to saturate every area of my life.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">As I laid Laurel back down for bed, my usual is to get "10 more minutes" before I've got to get up. This morning, it just so happened, God didn't want me to sleep in.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I put Awaken Essential Oil on my wrists & settled in for some eye-opening Yoga. As I practiced, my goal was to release, relax, and be present in the moment. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Today, my aim is to be present. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">For whatsoever is born of God overcometh the world: and this is the victory that overcometh the world, even our faith. - 1 John 5:4</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2503954553750129219.post-7336009957162259762018-01-07T19:23:00.000-05:002018-01-07T19:23:30.545-05:00Sunday Feels (10 Years CLEAN!)<img alt="" id="id_be3_3ab0_8a7d_b172" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-5YcoaI-jW8c/WlKzGZEKZ6I/AAAAAAAABn4/pkp2FHIY-CwR4QIBr5U0Uilwi8A1NSImQCHMYCw/s5000/%255BUNSET%255D" style="height: auto; width: 392px;" title="" tooltip="" /><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Man, I feel good today. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Don't you just love it when you can say that? Some days, moments, months, heck, even years can feel impossible. </span><span style="font-size: large;">Yes, I said years. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The first year I was clean, I didn't think that I would make it through it. I was so overwhelmed with life. I got clean when I found out I was six weeks pregnant. Blah, blah, blah. You've probably already heard my story. I feel like such a broken record sometimes. I feel like people get tired of hearing it & start nodding off mid-sentence. Oh good grief, here she goes again. Ewww. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Let's fast forward a piece. I would make a fast forward sound but I don't know how to spell it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Oh look, SHINY! </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I cannot stop it. My husband asks me, "do you even try?" Nope, </span><i style="font-size: x-large;"> </i><span style="font-size: large;">I gave up trying to change me. At least the things that I love. I love the spastic part about me. I like to call it spontaneity. Yes, we'll go with spontaneity. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Geez, I get sidetracked. I sat here for an hour looking through old burnt discs for a photo of me before, when I was in my addiction. There is this specific photo that I'm looking for & I think I inadvertently deleted it & have no copies of it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Here's the funny part. There's always a funny part. I was smiling so big in that picture. You would think I was so happy. Sure, in that very moment, I was. The black under my eyes was awful. I don't know how long I had been awake & there is no way I could tell you how long it had been since I'd eaten. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;">I was extremely unhealthy. I was smoking, eating, drinking, snorting, breathing meth. How could I not be unhealthy? I was unhealthy, insecure, mean, vindictive, and spiteful. I was a liar. I lied to myself, my family. I was thin. That's was an important factor to me, to be thin. Sad, isn't it? Straight truth, nothing but. It didn't matter that I was slowly killing myself, sometimes quicker; just depended on how much money I had to blow. No pun intended. Harharhar. At least I can joke about it now. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;">I wasn't always able to joke about it. </span><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-size: medium;">When I first got clean, I didn't want to talk about it with anyone. I was embarrassed, ashamed, and a number of other adjectives. </span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I<span style="font-size: medium;"> felt like everyone was judging me. Living in a small town is hard sometimes. Everybody knows everybody and not everybody's kind, Christian or not. People love to see people fail and when you know everybody it's hard to escape the judgement. No, I'm not that naive to think it doesn't happen everywhere, I know that it does. This is just my story; no one else's.</span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-size: medium;">I was pregnant. I was going to be a mother. Oh my gosh, I was terrified to be a mother. What if I turned out like my mother; absent? That's all the room she gets in this post because this isn't about her. She gets no glory for me being clean for a decade. Zero.</span></span></div>
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<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><span style="font-size: medium;">Only God gets the glory for His. He and He alone, set me free! </span></span><span style="background-color: rgba(255 , 255 , 255 , 0); font-size: large;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">If I tried to say that getting clean was as easy as reading some inspirational quote that motivates you to make it happen, I'd be lying. That's a complete load of garbage. Getting clean isn't easy. If it were easy, everyone would do it. Nobody would use drugs. We'd all be skipping through a field of daisies, happily, hand-in-hand. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I think I took that a bit far. That's me, the envelope pusher. At least it's not dope pusher. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: medium;">Don't get me wrong, everybody's journey is different, but there's likely to be some speed bumps; no pun intended. <span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> I'm pretty punny today.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Alright so, I figured I'd go with some things that I've learned over the past ten years and maybe I won't get too off-topic. Oh, that was funny. I'm very likely to get off-topic. It's in my nature.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">When I first got clean, I was so scared I'd lose all my friends. I did. All of them. I don't hang out with any of those people anymore. The expression, "all you have to do is change everything," was spot on for me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Here's what I learned:</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">1. Those people weren't my friends to begin with. They just needed someone to do dope with & share my dope with them. Yup. Go on and marinate on that for a minute. BOOYAH. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">2. Some folks gonna forget where they came from. That's okay, let them. The only way out is through. Sometimes it takes a lot more time to get through when you don't want to face things. They are not your responsibility; YOU ARE. It took me a minute to learn that one. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">3. "People will be people," are the words of my handsome husband, Andy. I use to want to cut him when he said that. Bleck. Just plan 'ole poke his eyeballs out for being so evolved. Yuck. Perfect people get on my nerves. Here's the truth bomb: HE'S RIGHT. They will. So what. Let them be. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">4. People pleasing is the pits. Stop it as quick as you can. It's not a good thing. It's a flaw. I'm still learning this one. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">5. You have to set boundaries & STICK WITH THEM. Not everyone will like the clean you & that's okay. They don't have to. I found out I like myself so much more when I'm not around people who project their insecurities & hatred for self onto me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Don't feel guilty about that. Some people just aren't your people. When you use, you tend to mix and match with all kinds of folks because you've got drugs in common. When you no longer have drugs in common, you find out who your friends are. QUICK. </span>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Okay, so there's five things. Those, of course, are not the only five but I'll have to stop now because this has taken me the course of a day to get this written & if I don't post soon, I won't get it finished. I'm a super starter, but finisher? I'm still working on that.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'm working on me. Well, He's working in me much more than what I'm doing, just as long as I let Him. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Seriously people. Choose Him. He will see you through. Let Him.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Matthew 11:28 KJV</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2503954553750129219.post-43643257533673850732018-01-01T23:10:00.001-05:002018-01-01T23:14:46.723-05:00 Thanks---For the Memories (To Be Heard)<img id="id_3966_5af7_4d05_33aa" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-RIggPxchp5U/WksGJUkmbCI/AAAAAAAABnc/y-FGWmVmv2AE2tZ6Anvo4nAw0ce2gyGGgCHMYCw/s5000/%255BUNSET%255D" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 392px; height: auto;"><br><div><br></div><div><p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">The things we think can be funny sometimes. </span></p><p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br></span></p><p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">My Gramma gave me this ornament years ago. I think when Owen was a baby. At first I thought, 'gosh this thing is big with its chunky velour box. I really don't want it, but I'll take it anyway.'</span></p><p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br></span></p><p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">No, I didn't say any of this to her because honestly, it's absolutely awful even to think it, but I did. </span></p><p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br></span></p>
<p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">She always gave me stuff when I came to visit; always. Sometimes, just because she only had a bit of room in her one bedroom apartment & needed to free up some space. Sometimes she picked it up on the bench in lobby that people shared stuff on because she thought of me. Sometimes she needed me to put it in her shed. </span></p><p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br></span></p><p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;">They say it gets easier but sometimes it just doesn't. I mean sure, time passes and all that jazz, but the impression that someone leaves in your life after they're gone can only be filled with Jesus. </span></p><p style="text-align: center; margin: 0px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica;"><font size="5"><br></font></p><p style="text-align: center; margin: 0px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica;"><font size="5">Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. - Matthew 11:28 KJV</font></p><p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br></span></p><p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br></span></p><p style="margin: 0px; font-size: 12px; line-height: normal; font-family: Helvetica;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><br></span></p></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2503954553750129219.post-15642950334685039732017-12-04T23:54:00.001-05:002017-12-04T23:56:01.266-05:00Aiming High to Jesus<br><img id="id_4f98_da7b_7dd0_fd3" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cIpqSpgZIes/WiYm37LxXjI/AAAAAAAABm8/Bpu0IDH2rLkxR1PuBOGVhy8zekW3vyEMQCHMYCw/s5000/%255BUNSET%255D" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 392px; height: auto;"><br>How great is our God. I say this with tears in my eyes & a weight gone from my shoulders. There is one thing that I know for certain: God is in control. When I relinquish control to Him, is when I am able to flourish. <br><div><br></div><div>For years I have been praying. And recently, He answered me. He gave me peace in my soul. I cannot express, there are no words to describe what depending on Him has done for me; to me. </div><div><br></div><div style="text-align: center;">I am free. </div><div><br></div><div>He set me free. Praise God. He set me free. He broke the bonds of prison for me. I'm glory bound my Jesus to see. Glory to God, He set me free. </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2503954553750129219.post-43086623382732640222017-11-16T15:30:00.000-05:002017-11-17T16:15:34.100-05:00Chasing Rabbits (To Be Heard)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">As I fumble through this life, I notice time passes more quickly than ever before once I stop rushing to move it. When I stand with the Son, I know He'll protect me from myself. The self in me isn't where I'd like to be in my walk with Him, but if nothing's changes, nothing changes. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We can talk about what we're going to do all day long, but in the end, have we done what would make God give us an "atta boy"? Smokey use to say that all the time. It's been seven years since he left this earth & I'd like to believe I'll see him again someday but honestly, I don't know if he was saved. When he died, I wasn't. I didn't ever share what it meant to be saved with him because I didn't know what it meant myself. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Are we sharing what it means to be saved with others? How life can end in the blink of an eye & we all need to be ready? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Life flies by and before we know it, we'll be regretting things, if we're not careful. Did I spend enough quality time with my kids? Quality and quantity are two different things, ya know. Sometimes I get wrapped up in quantity, that I forget all about quality. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The same thing goes for presence & presents, these two can get mixed up in a jiffy. Last time my mother and I had a conservation was three years ago this December, & I told her that we would rather have her presence than her presents. Needless to say, that cut pretty deep & she hung up on me. At that point, I could have pinched her head off for bailing out on my guys again. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Our oldest is nine years old & she's met him once, his almost five year old brother once when he was three months old & she doesn't even know that I have a six month old little girl. It's sad, but true. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'm not even sure why I'm sharing all of this, honestly. I see people post all the time on social media about their mother's and how they miss them. I don't have that. I've never really had a relationship with mine because she's always chosen herself, or a relationship. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I acted like it didn't matter when I was a teenager because I was "coming into my own"--whatever that expression really means--and didn't know what to do with all the emotions that I was experiencing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">That's one of the big reasons that I started using drugs. I wanted to escape from all of the "stuff". Whew, "stuff" is such a loaded word used in this sentence. Baggage is a better word. Baggage should never be a word that someone uses to describe their childhood, but unfortunately, that's what I got from mine. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It's taken me a lifetime and many hours of therapy to understand that the lack of relationship that my mother has with me, is not my fault. I did not make her choose to absent in my life. Thank you <a href="http://www.emdr.com/what-is-emdr/" target="_blank">EMDR</a> and, of course, Margaret. She helped save me from myself couple of years ago.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This post is a perfect example of how my mind works. I start with one thing and bounce from thing to thing. I suppose I just needed to chase rabbits today. Until next time...</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2503954553750129219.post-4602238920969179462017-10-16T13:00:00.001-04:002017-10-16T13:04:35.216-04:00I'm Not Waiting Another Minute [To Let it Go]<img id="id_b60a_a40e_b830_9bb4" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ouVUPlpMvG8/WeTlmWDxBnI/AAAAAAAABmA/622Upiin6FkbBPVmqxQ3uVJAiPVjrog1ACHMYCw/s5000/%255BUNSET%255D" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 392px; height: auto;"><br><div><br></div><div>As I sit here rocking this beautiful baby of mine, I'm reminded of what I have to be grateful for. </div><div><br></div><div>Most of the time, she won't go to sleep unless I'm holding her or rocking her & for those of you reading this, I get tired of you saying she's spoiled. </div><div><br></div><div>She's cherished. She is loved. She is adored. I don't remember being "spoiled" at all as a child & I want my babies to know & remember that they are cherished, loved, and adored. If that is what you see spoiled as, then yes, that's what all of my children are. So you can stand down because I won't stop loving or showing them love because you don't agree with the way I do.</div><div><br></div><div>Thank the Lord this PPD is easing off a bit. It still comes in waves & I get manic & have major anxiety here and there at the most in opportune times , but at least it's not as overwhelming as it once was. Life is a process. I'm just trying to work through it the best way I know how. </div><div><br></div><div>I am grateful for this life. No, I don't have all the answers but I'm working side-by-side with the Lord on the answers that work best for our family. </div><div><br></div><div>I am grateful that God sees fit for me to work with young ladies in recovery from drugs & alcohol. I would have never thought I would be doing anything of the such, but here I am letting God lead me. </div><div><br></div><div>Yesterday in Church, He spoke a Word to me. I absolutely love that expression because it means I'm listening. I don't always listen. I hear Him, but I don't always listen. He's been speaking to me regarding an issue for what seems like an eternity & yesterday, it registered: "Let it Go". </div><div><br></div><div>Can that be anymore clear? I was invited to Homecoming at a local church in my area that I have "ties" so-to-speak with & the guest speaker was on point. God spoke right directly to me through this man. I didn't stick around to gab. I threw my hand up and out the door I went. I had to get home & feed the baby. </div><div><br></div><div>He spoke to me & said, let these things go that you're holding on to. It's time. No, I'm not delusional, people. If you're Christian, God speaks & you either obey or ignore; you decide. Conviction tends to convince you eventually if you want to hee-haw around like I've been doing.</div><div><br></div><div>I've been overwhelmed by one big thing. I don't have a church home. Please don't get me wrong, I feel welcome everywhere I go, but I have not yet found the place where I want to move my letter. I feel sure that I will know. The reason I feel sure is because I was absolutely certain when I joined my former church on April 17th, 2011. I knew exactly where I wanted to be. For reasons beyond my control, the church is no longer & yesterday, I let it go. </div><div><br></div><div style="text-align: center;">PRAISE & GLORY BE TO GOD, y'all. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br></div><div style="text-align: left;">It has consumed me with angst for almost three years, when we decided we would no longer have Sunday service. I felt like the Israelites wandering around out in the wilderness. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: left;">Not anymore. I'm free. I'm free to visit wherever my heart leads me. I'm free to see where God needs me. Since I chose Him, He has set me free repeatedly. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: center;">"The Lord has been so good to me, </div><div style="text-align: center;">He set my captive spirit free,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Old things are passed away,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Ever since that blessed day."</div><div style="text-align: center;">-I'm in a New World (hymn)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br></div><div style="text-align: left;">I wanted to head in an altogether different direction with this post but the Lord apparently had this direction. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br></div><div style="text-align: center;">Humble yourselves in the sight of the Lord and He shall lift you up. --- James 4:10</div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2503954553750129219.post-4933246291237513732017-09-30T21:29:00.001-04:002017-09-30T21:51:34.887-04:00Smoother Sailing <img id="id_bebc_8237_fccb_2904" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-34hZex2ZYm8/WdBFFv1V0gI/AAAAAAAABlI/tWspE3aMtsIbS-T-eQfIGkg7j2f8dQ9igCHMYCw/s5000/%255BUNSET%255D" alt="" title="" tooltip="" style="width: 392px; height: auto;"><br><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><font size="6">Things are better. I'm not consumed with anxiety. I still have spurts, but nothing like it was, thank the Lord & all of you that have been praying! </font></div><div><font size="6"><br></font></div><div><font size="6">I'm enjoying life again. </font></div><div><font size="6"><br></font></div><div><font size="6">Which, if you know anything about PPD, you don't just get over it. You have to make an effort. </font></div><div><font size="6"><br></font></div><div><font size="6">Some days are good & some aren't. Some days, I'd just as soon slap people as speak to them. Today wasn't one of those days, thank goodness & those days are disappearing in the distance. They're not easily forgotten, but can be stepped away from. </font></div><div><font size="6"><br></font></div><div><font size="6">Time is flying by at a warp speed. It's almost October. It feels like the older I get, the faster time moves. </font></div><div><font size="6"><br></font></div><div><font size="6">I'm at the end of a fantastic Bible study with a great group of ladies. The irony? The Study is about wandering around in the wilderness. </font></div><div><font size="6"><br></font></div><div><font size="6">Touché, God.</font></div><div><font size="6"><br></font></div><div><font size="6">He's always on point. He always gives me what I need, when I need it. </font></div><div><font size="6"><br></font></div><div><font size="6">This month made seven years I chose to start serving the Lord & I pray there are many more. </font></div><div><font size="6"><br></font></div><div><font size="6"><br></font></div><div><br></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2503954553750129219.post-10384115086110903672017-09-15T16:01:00.001-04:002017-09-22T11:00:49.107-04:00It's a Good Day for a Good Day<img alt="" id="id_ae3a_3386_23e1_40f7" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-6w4icAhjL0k/Wbwxteet53I/AAAAAAAABkk/DDrwjY9YqBYN2q3WKyh4ktJyQUxBxEP3QCHMYCw/s5000/%255BUNSET%255D" style="height: auto; width: 392px;" title="" tooltip="" /><br />
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I've fought with myself over and over on whether or not to continue this line of writing & I decided yes. Yes because that was the idea behind this blog to start with (7 plus years now). Which basically is: </div>
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It's my voice. Because I am who I am is why I write. It's therapy. It helps. Maybe it will help someone else, as well. </div>
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My days are getting a little less long. My PPD isn't nearly as overwhelming as it has been being. I am stepping out in faith & letting God handle things. All I can do is what I can do. </div>
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I'm taking small bites on what I have to get accomplished daily. And by that I mean, I'm not trying to tackle everything at once. I take small bites and accomplish things one by one. Not everything has to get done today and when I realize that and stop thinking that it does, I am able to calm the storm that is me & concentrate on the task at hand. </div>
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I am working on patience; slow and steady wins the race. Today, my littlest and I have been working toward completing some orders I've been working on. I have folks that have been so faithful to stick with me, even as I've repeatedly taken longer than I should to complete things. I am so grateful. </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2503954553750129219.post-35090960938535070652017-09-08T23:37:00.002-04:002017-09-22T11:01:09.808-04:00Here Comes a Cat 5 Hurricane (Alisha)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;"> I am truly on the verge of losing my proverbial shit. Yes, I said it. Do you know why? Because at this point, the word poop just doesn't adequately express where I am in life. I have Post Partum Depression again. Yes, again. I had it with our first child & that is exactly why I didn'</span><span style="font-size: large;">t want anymore children</span><span style="font-size: large;"> for almost four years. I was good with our middle son & then --- boom! The roller coaster starts back up with our third. Yep. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">There, I said it; OUTLOUD. For all the internet to hear. The first step is admission, right? I have been struggling in secret for months & as I said above, about to lose it. No, I won't cuss again so you can uncover your ears & relax. I'm stressed enough for all of us. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">And I do mean all; as in, every single person I've ever known and I've known a lot of people. I moved around a lot my whole life up until I started having kids ten years ago (almost). </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">To say that I am completely overwhelmed would be a huge understatement. There is nothing in this world like PPD; nothing. Just like with parenting, everybody's got suggestions on what you they think I should do & how I should fix it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;">take a long walk off a short pier & shut your face to me because Miss Congeniality</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;"> has left the building & I don't want any passive aggressive suggestions disguised as advice. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">PPD for me is filled with anxiety, tears & isolation. Three things that are so not me. Well, tears are, because I'm pretty emotional but waller-in-my-own-self-pity-tears aren't. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'm breastfeeding so it makes it a hunnerd (yes, I meant to spell it that way) times worse. I had to go buy a can of formula the other day to supplement with. I didn't want to. In my mind, if I can't feed her, I'm a bad Mom. I know that I'm not but, that's how PPD works for me. It makes me feel inadequate as a Mother regardless of whether I am or not. And clearly, I'm fabulous, so I'm not. Ha! </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">That's just it, I'm feeding her just fine. Well, aside from the raging hormones that make me want to yell at everyone with a giant lion roar while crying a river that I'm drowning in. Nutritionally, she's fine; emotionally, I'm not.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I made the statement the other day it would be a good day for a relapse if I weren't so far into this life of recovery. I'm working on a decade yo, I ain't got time for no dope. Nope. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">If you and I aren't close enough for you to come up & say to me, "I wondered if that was what's wrong with you," you'll know we're not that close when you're picking yourself up off the ground. Like I said, Miss Congeniality left the building. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">It was not easy for me to share this with the world. Not easy at all because there are a lot of people in this world that think you should just "get over it" and like I've said before,</span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2503954553750129219.post-81294908607103139562017-08-03T13:04:00.000-04:002017-08-03T13:04:38.916-04:00The Only Way Out is Through (To Be Heard)<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">I decided to blog "in the moment". As of late, I put off blogging until I talk myself out it & I'm not doing that this time. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Today is Open House for the new school year & Praise God for it happening. Judge if you need to. Quite frankly, your judgement is the least of my troubles. My kids have me ready to pinch their little heads com-pletely off (in my best Julia Sugarbaker voice). I am beyond ready for them to go to school. The littlest boy starts this year & the oldest is going to third grade.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I am not one of those mothers that want my children home all year. Nope. To all my homeschooling Mama's, kudos. That will not happen in my home. I value what little sanity I have left. You can have homeschooling. My children will experience public school, just like I did. Sure, they'll learn things I'd like for them not to know but, it's much better than the alternative; the pinching off of heads. I feel like the Queen of Hearts on Alice in Wonderland. I think I've said that before. Yep, I'm sure I have.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">What is it with my kids? They become human beings when they're around other people; sometimes. When they're around me, they're complete terrors. I don't know what "it" is, but I know there can't be much left of this said "it". </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Insert break here for the time it took to get chocolate milk for the littlest & tell the boys to take a nap. It's ONLY 12:45pm. ONLY. I feel like this day has gone on forever. Seriously readers, forever. If you're in the market to reproduce, skip whether you're financially ready & make sure you're mentally capable. I honestly don't think I am most days. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">One more thing, why do people insist on saying something to effect of, "enjoy these moments because they'll be gone soon?" Yes folks, I am completely aware of that. I'm not rushing them to grow up. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">What I want is for them to ease up on the moments that they're completely destroying everything that we own or the moments that they insist on not listening until they do the very thing that I've repeated until I'd be blue in the face for if i were holding my breath. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">My point is, you know as well as I do, you have experienced the same thing I am because your children are not perfect, so please, save that comment & just say a prayer for me. And I'm serious. I'm not joking. I need prayer. Every day. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> ---- Insert break here for the time I had to go and break up the boys, put them in separate rooms & threaten them with punishment if they didn't quit & nap. --- </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Okay, where was I? Yes, yes, it's a good thing I wasn't holding my breath. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I guess that pretty much covers what I needed to express. It's impossible to keep this stuff inside. No matter what you're going through, it's important to work through whatever it is that you're dealing with. I know this to be a fact. I'm in long-term drug & alcohol recovery. If you read my nonsense, you already know that. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">And you also know this...</span></div>
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<span style="color: #660000; font-size: large;"><i>The only way out is through. </i></span></div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2503954553750129219.post-70792694607588337722017-07-18T19:28:00.000-04:002017-07-18T19:28:36.038-04:00Parenting 101: Buckle Your Safety Harness<span style="font-size: large;">Before one more month comes and goes, I'm absolutely making myself sit down and blog. I have been completely consumed with parenthood. And when I say consumed, that's an understatement to say the very least. Those of you who said, or continue to say, "it's just one more kid," I would appreciate it if you'd step back into reality & out of your delusional existence. I now have three children; yep, three. Never thought I'd be saying that. Never. Oh wait, yes, there was that brief period that wanted a whole houseful. And then I had one.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Last night, well, in the wee hours of the morning, I caught myself losing my proverbial poop. Yes, I would much rather use another descriptive 4-letter word but, I'll save anyone who is reading this the judgement. I actually felt much like I did as a new Mom almost nine years ago. How was that exactly? Completely helpless & unsure of whether I'd make it out alive.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I did make it out alive. Here I am, grateful to God for giving me another to day to get it right. "It" being, this thing we call life. This thing we get repeated swings at. Nah, I'm not really a sports fan unless my kids are playing but, I am grateful God doesn't give me three strikes and I'm out because I would have been out long before I ever had kids. As a matter of fact, I would have been out as a teenager. Okay, okay, an adolescent. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">If you've ever been a breastfeeding Mama, only you can understand where I'm going with this post. Chalk it up to hormones & I'll poke your eyes out of your head like a Mama Mockingbird who's protecting her nest. Get out of my face with that garbage. Not everything's hormones people.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I've recently realized why breastfeeding is so absolutely important to me. I can't control anything. God takes care of everything. I can't make my kids do what I want them to. I can't make them get along with one another. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">If I can feed our newest little treasure & she is healthy & well, maybe I'm not so bad at this whole parenting thing after all. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0