Was Monday in a small truck (aka being sick stinks)

I’m hoping someone saw it, whatever it was that hit me. If they did, why instead of warning me, did they watch it run me over. Did they figure it wouldn’t kill me? Well, I’m not dead yet it’s true but am I really getting better?

I was enjoying the surroundings and was hopeful for the day. I think next time I’ll hide in the shadows no matter how good I feel.

When it comes around again tell Monday it’s not welcome anymore. I could use some tea and lots of sleep. Then help me hide from Tuesday. Someone told me the truck it’s driving is bigger …


In the quiet stillness

My ears strain to hear the voice no earthly tongue can speak. In the stillness, perhaps I’ll hear an echo.

Of those words of power,
which made something from nothing words that brought life from death, words that could wash away all in a wave of unfathomable force.

I want to hear the voice that knows no single tongue.

Teach me the ancient words long forgotten, from which life springs forth.

I sit here listening for the song that no ear can hear, yet the power it holds could raise the dead.

I sit here waiting for the only voice that truly matters. The voice of the one who knows me completely and accepts me for who I am.

It’s not that I can’t…

It was a familiar sensation. The calm of certainty to the all to easy “put on the mask of calmness before the panic and fear shows through” moment. I didn’t have time to explain that the helpful suggestions were making it worse for me. I had tried before but failed, mostly because i didn’t understand why the question of ” can you make dinner?” would cause such distress. I could see it in my mind finally. Each main dish led to multiple options, almost all at once. This basically led to me mentally going in circles. The other part is my sense of time with cooking. Without a recipe and clearly laid out steps, something always gets rushed. On top of that, frustration from both parties who are tired and hungry. If those times didn’t lead to a meltdown, it at least led to an intense discussion. I expressed my frustration at not being able to come up with anything and her frustration that after a long day she had to suddenly come up with dinner.

I recognize now the paralysis that came with so many choices and the inability to express my need for help. That was the most frustrating thing, to know I’m capable, that I can function in the kitchen, but to be unable to get started. I was incredibly disappointed in myself and I’m sure that amplified the disappointment she was experiencing.

For the first time, I was able to recognize and even more, acknowledge what I was experiencing was valid. With that, came the freedom to admit the need for help. The relief at the response of two choices is beyond words. I can handle two choices! All I had to do was settle on one of those choices and make sure I started on time.

It was a great feeling when she came home to have supper nearly done and to know she could focus on unwinding and not on what was for supper.

Anybody want a cat?

There, I heard it, I’m sure.

The sound of something heavy dropping from 50 feet up. Alas, it wasn’t, she is maybe 8lbs at most and the drop was maybe 3 feet.

Thunder rumbles from up above. No, it’s just her walking, coming down to make her demands.

Then she is there. Silent as a ghost, but way more terrifying. She stares at the door and then at me. Her message is clear, spoken without a sound.

I sigh and walk to the door to the room. I open it and in she walks in without so much as a backward glance of appreciation.

“Just once would be nice”, I say to myself. “At least my dog is thankful. I wonder if anyone wants a cat?”

I hope she cannot read minds…..

I gave up my right to complain about politics

I wanted to leave “about politics” off the title but as I have to deal with rush hour traffic later, I still want to be able to complain (even if I shouldy).

Today in the U.S. we have our midterm elections. There is a push on both sides to get like minded folks to the polls to oust the “corrupt, greedy, etc” opposition party out of power. Getting out to vote has always been important to me and that hasn’t changed. However, this election I will not be voting. I wanted to, but to do so would require a rushed trip home, waiting in line, then rushing to church and finally driving home, exhausted. I would have done my Civic duty but for what end? There is no guarantee that the candidate I’d vote for would win or that they would stay true to their word. I could complain about how they didn’t meet my expectations but again what good does that do?

Last election, I did not like either candidate and the decision I made was not an easy one. However, I had made a decision to hand this mess we call politics over to the God I serve. If Trump won, he was still God. If Clinton won, you guessed it, still God. There was and continues to be freedom because of that. I’m not bound to vote along party lines and fret if my people don’t win. No matter who wins, I’ll do my best to pray for them.

I hope to vote in the next election. It’s a privilege which I wish to partake of. Regardless of what happens then, my highest loyalty is to God. If I’m not praying for those who were elected then it doesn’t matter if I voted for them or not.

On a rocking chair, in the dark, wearing sunglasses

I have to wonder after today. How many times did I misread the signals my body was sending me before today? How often did I wonder why everyone else could sit for what seemed an eternity (in reality was often 30 minutes) and as far as I know be completely engaged. If I stayed focused, as far as everyone else was concerned, it was a struggle most times.

I realized today at church, I started to have second thoughts with the training that was going to occur there. Was I wrong to decide to stay instead of going home? This weekend had a lot of social interaction/involvement going on and little down time.

On Saturday, between my morning event (volunteering with others) and time with my friends in the evening. I did have a short shutdown. My brain just locked for a lack of a better word. I laid down on the bed and did not move for 10-20 minutes. I had things to do. “Up, get up! You can’t just lie there.” I didn’t move much as I wanted to. Then the dog barked and that somehow jolted me out of it somewhat. The few “must do’s” got done but that was it. The feeling carried into the evening as it took a while to engage without feeling it was forced.

So back to that training session. This time I started listening, not to the speaker, but to my body. Discomfort from the eyes, the urge to “move”. Conveniently, our church nursery was unoccupied and dark. Also, a rocking chair is in the room. There, I found the relief I needed.

There I sat, in a rocking chair, rocking, with sunglasses on, and listening to the training session on dealing with drug addiction in the family. There I sat, knowing that I would have been constantly moving, looking at my phone so that I could ignore the lights. Instead, I rocked quietly in the dark, wearing glasses, and listening better than I expected I would.

You can take it

You can take it; I know that as I sit here with my emotions and thoughts in turmoil.

You can take it, I know it as I scream out my frustration at all that has happened. As I unleash all this pent up fury at all that I can’t control and comprehend.

Every thought, every word, each unleashed wave of energy dispels upon contact with you. Each spell cast is a blend of unanswered questions and bitter friends. Yet, I know you can take it.

Then there is quiet, save for my breathing and I watch the smoke get carried off by the wind. You are there, untouched and unchanged.

I have no more tears to cry right now as my breathing slowly finds its proper rythm. The last of the energy crackles at my fingertips. I rise, these final words on my lips,

“Thank you. For I know you can take it.”