My Reality

I used to be innocent, naive and trusting. I used to want to believe the best about people. I used to think that there weren't people out there who intentionally hurt others. I was able to believe these things because of my upbringing. I had loving, caring and supportive parents, who did everything they could to protect from the harsh realities of the world. I had a great extended family that encircled me with kindness and compassion.

As an adult I know the truth. It has taken 40 years and I've learned the lesson well. Most folks are all about getting what they can get for themselves; most folks don't give a damn about anyone but themselves; and most folks would see me dead & buried before they extend themselves to offer a hand. I've had friends abandon me, men cheat on me, and some even to put a hand on me in a hurtful manner. People have lied to my face, stolen from me and [a man took] what was only mine to give. It would be easy to make this a man bashin' post; I'm not going to do that (this time). This is about me.

Over time I've learned I can only trust me, myself and I. Its not that all men are bad or all women are shrews, its that I need people with integrity around me -- folks who will say what they mean and mean what they say and they will do what they say when they say. Too often I've had folks close to me who have fallen short, and I don't mean once or twice, I mean multiple times. Some of them have done it purposefully and others not, whatever the case, I give them 2 chances then I cut them loose. Be clear, I don't expect anymore from them than I'm willing to give.

I wish things were....
I wish folks would....
I wish I could....

Whatever, do me wrong once, you get a pass, do me wrong twice...there won't be a third time.

Cliffhanger

I'm scared. I'm falling into an old habit.

I don't want to and when I try to not to, all I can think about is doing it again.

I am better than this. I am more disciplined than this. I am in control of my life.

How did it even get to this point?
How did I let it get this far?
Am I that frickin' desperate?

Good news: I haven't completely gone over the cliff.
Bad news: I'm definitely driving full speed ahead towards edge.
Worse news: I don't care if I go over; I want what I want.
Worst news: I going over the cliff with my eyes wide open and I'm dragging at least two other folks with me.

I am such a pathetic loser, and don't try to tell me I'm not. Don't try to make me feel better. Don't try to rationalize what I'm doing. Just let me be in my misery and leave me ALONE!

Thelma!
Louise!
I'm on my way...save me spot over the cliff.

Marrying for Love

If I were to ever consider marriage, I have to have the kind of love that Nicholas Cage speaks of in the clip. It must be consuming, messy, heart-breaking love that makes me wanna give him the world at all costs and reciprocally, entangles his life in pursuing whatever it takes to fill my life with unending goodness. It is the deep, unyielding, abiding love of each other that keeps us going day after day, even when we want to give up on each other and the marriage. When the going gets tough, I need to able to recall why I married this man; I need to remember his love for me; and more importantly, I need to remember my love for him.

To answer Tina's question, that is what love has to with it.

Where is he? Has he come and gone?

Where is the man who could walk into a room with me and have everyone wonder who we are?
... pray with me and for me?
... make me feel safe in the after-hour joints?
... love me in my lingerie, my sweats and my after-five attire?
... whisper my name so tenderly that I knew he would never hurt me?
... make me wet by saying my name or holding my hand?
... make me laugh 'til my sides ached?
... let me hold him and love him?
... discuss current events, debate world politics and agree to disagree?
... appreciate the arts, museums and traveling the world?
... allow me to see his softer side without feeling threatened?
... honestly share himself with me?
... love me all night?
... let me be me, the vulnerable, silly, insecure, goofy, scared me?
... let me talk, share and grow close to him?

Did I miss him while I let myself be distracted by some fool?
Did he miss me as he spent time in the arms of another woman?
Did I turn him off with a sarcastic remark or was his first impression off-putting to me?
Did our paths cross at a restaurant, in a concert, on a park bench, while riding the elevator?
Did we miss each other in the day-to-day hustle and bustle of life, him going right and me going left?

Where is he? Has he come and gone?

Thankful to God

I'm so thankful to God, my Father, Jesus the Christ, my Redeemer, and the Holy Spirit, my comforter & companion. I am blessed beyond measure and have absolutely NO right to ever complain, whine, *sigh*, or in any way act unappreciative or entitled.

God has blessed me more than I can possibly imagine or write about and I know God will continue to bless my socks off. I am truly humbled by his daily blessings, his minute-by-minute miracles and his second-upon-second unending source of love, grace, mercy, compassion and forgiveness.

As the songwriter put it, to God be the glory for the things he has done.

because they couldn't

I graduated from college because so many weren't allowed to learn to read & write
I went to church this morning because Betty will never go again
I own my own home because others had been locked out
I own rental property because my parents dreamed of owning some
I voted for Barack Obama on election day because my grandparents couldn't
I go to work Monday - Friday because my father worked everyday
I willingly serve others because millions were forced to do it
and I live because they lived

So many things I take for granted, I try not to. It is my desire to be thankful, grateful, appreciative of everyone, everyone, everyone and everything in my life. I know it doesn't have to be this way; I know my blessings are from God; I know that it is only God's grace, mercy, love, care, kindness and compassion that gives me breath every second of every day.

Sunday morning is the loneliest time

Sunday mornings have become the loneliest time of the week for me. As a child, it was busy, busy busy. By the time I awakened, mother was already switchin' the kitchen preparing a big country breakfast. Daddy would be in the living room or at the kitchen table reading the newspaper. Even as a young adult, when mother and I returned from early service, the routine would begin, put coffee on, change clothes, start breakfast, read newspaper, watch morning news shows and dish family gossip. It was great!

It is not like that for me now. I awaken to an eerily quiet home. There isn't anyone or anything switchin' anywhere. I have to make the coffee, cook my breakfast and get the paper, none of which is an issue; however, the silence is deafening. There isn't any witty banter, discussion of current affair or learning who in the family is doing this, that or the other thing. My immediate family may be few in number, but we're large in conversation, gossip and opinion.

I've lived alone for several years, so quiet Sunday mornings is nothing new. What is new is that I'm now going to the late service. I have 2-3 hours in the house before I leave for church and it is hard for me. If going to bed alone is unpleasant, waking up alone is downright awful.