The Letter

I wrote a blog earlier this year about this same subject. But, I felt it needed to be done again. My mom goes to a bible study on Thursday mornings. They are doing a Beth Moore study. The chapter they are starting next week is on Binding up the brokenhearted. There is one lady in the group that has the same story as me. Stepparent molesting her children. She has not been able to forgive herself all these years later. I can relate to that. I wrote my story last night. I know other women are hurting, blaming and not forgiving themselves either. Writing this blog maybe I can reach at least one hurting soul.

                                                           The Letter

I am her mother. I am suppose to protect her from things like that. I invite him into our lives, our home. He becomes part of our family. You should be able to trust family, right?
I suspected. I asked questions. Lies and Denial. Six years of lies and denial.
So easily I believed those lies. Why?
Right in my own home. Why didn't I pay more attention?
Thank God she doesn't hate me. She doesn't blame me. I blame me.
God forgives. My daughter and I through God were able to forgive him. Or at least put him behind us.
The pain is still there. I refuse to forgive myself. The rage within. I don't deserve forgiveness. I failed her.
Seventeen years later. Bible Study class. The topic "Forgiveness". God forgives. Am I better then God? He forgives, yet I refuse. If God can forgive, then I must forgive. I need to forgive that mother that failed her child. I must write her a letter.
As I sit here with pen in hand, I pray. Pray for God to give me words to say to this woman.
As I am writing, I feel the rage I have for her. My pen filled those pages with all my rage.
" I hate you. You don't deserve forgiveness. Do you know what your little girl went through? God gave her to you to protect. You failed".
I put down my pen. With my head bowed, I again seek God's guidance.
I put pen to paper once more. The ink from my pen flowed forming the words, " I forgive you".
I read the letter out loud so I could hear those words.
Then I crumbled the letter up, laid on my bed, curled up and cried.
Three years later I am restored. All is forgiven.
There comes a time when we must forgive. Even forgiving ourselves so our soul can be at peace.
It is well with my soul.

My Earthly Shepherd

Sidebar: I wrote this poem in 2006 for my Pastor from Bible Baptist Church.

                                                      My Earthly Shepherd

When the doors are open, my earthly shepherd is there-
Standing behind his pulpit because he truly cares-

With the bible in his hands
doing just what the Lord commands-

Guiding his sheep with his King James rod-
teaching the one true word of God-

My earthly shepherd chasten his sheep when we go
astray-
Guiding our path to the straight and narrow way-

The Freedom from Guilt and ability to Forgive

Women in my church are daily reading out of the book Jesus Calling, by Sarah Young. We are then to blog a comment on what we read for that day.
Today's reading was partly on the freedom of forgiveness.
 Walk with Me in the freedom of forgiveness.  Wow, I struggled with that for years.
( FORGIVENESS )
My daughter was abused by a man that was in our lives. In time we both were able to forgive him for what he had done. But, I could not forgive myself. I am her mother, I am suppose to protect her from men like him. Not welcome him into our home, our lives. I felt guilty for failing my daughter.  I did not think I was worthy of forgiveness. I carried that burden of guilt upon my shoulders for many years.
Then a few years ago in a bible study, we were told to write a letter to someone we needed to forgive. We did not have to mail the letter. Just write it and give it to God. So, I wrote a letter to myself, pouring out all the anger within me on that piece of paper. By, the end of the letter however;  I wrote these words,"Karen, I forgive you."
I then gave the letter to God. Then in all my humbleness, I curled myself up into a ball and cried for the next hour.
For a very long time, I denied myself the freedom from guilt and forgiveness. It became a stumbling block in my life.
Once I removed the heavy load I carried and laid it at the foot of the cross, I became undeniably free.
Grace and Peace be yours in abundance through the knowledge of God and of Jesus our Lord.( ll Peter 1:2)

Breaking Free

Commit yourself entirely to God that He may set you free.
In my bible study group this past week, we talked about obstacles or stumbling blocks that have hindered our journey to freedom and a closer walk with God. To reach freedom, we must remove the obstacles.
I have discovered that one of my obstacles come from my childhood. One of confusion and lies. My entire life I see the good in things and become blind to the bad. When I was small I remember a happy family. ( my family). Sure there were arguments but, to me life was good.  My dad was fun, loving, he would share stories with me, he loved to sing and dance. He and I would stay up late laughing at shows on t.v.
As an adult I find out that my sister and brother remember a completely different man. My sister remembers him as an alcoholic and my brother remembers him as abusive. I never understood how three kids could grow up in the same house, raised by the same man and have such different memories of him.
A few years back, my mom and I were looking through old photos. She paused at one of my dad, She stated, " That's when all the problems started". I looked at her and asked, " why do I not remember the dad that my siblings do?" Her response to me was,"You were the baby. I wanted to protect you."
Looking back now, I do not think I was as protected as she thought I was. I remember the good because that is what I was suppose to remember, But, I believe I saw the bad. But, because I was "protected" from the bad, it was buried somewhere deep in my subconscious.
As an adult, I have made bad choices.  Mostly those with men. I see the good in them. Yet, it is the bad in them that I don't see I am attracted to. Somewhere in my subconscious however;  I believe I do see the bad. But, my mind has been trained since childhood to over look the bad and focus only on the good.
Causing me as an adult to make bad choices and doubting myself when trying to make a correct decision.
I know people say don't blame your childhood on choices you make as an adult. But, your childhood is part of you and things from the past help make you who you are today. Just don't let your past be a stumbling block, keeping you imprisoned from the person God wants you to be.
Now that I have identified one of my obstacles in life, I can start working toward freedom from it, not allowing it to steal one bit of victory God has for me.  BREAKING FREE.

Dear Lord

    I remember my friends and I riding our bikes to the Woolworth store in downtown Napa.  We would buy a soda from the soda fountain then browse the store for our latest treasure. Mine came in a little brown leather book with the word diary written in gold on the cover. There was a clasp in the center of it with a key attached with string.
    I faithfully wrote in the diary every day. Writing down my dreams of the future or cry about my newest fight with a friend or my latest boy crush. That was 40 years ago and I still write down my latest dreams, feelings or thoughts on scraps of paper.
    I use to start my entries with two words, " Dear Diary". As years past writing dear diary seemed immature.  So, I then started each of my entries with, Dear Journal".  That seemed more grown up. Somewhere along the way, I started my entries with, " Dear Lord". It was at a time in my life where I felt very burdened.  Writing always gave me a sense of relief.  Just as praying to God and laying my burdens upon Him gave me relief. So my journal entries became letters to God.
    In my writings I do a lot of complaining, then a lot of soul searching.  By the conclusion of  each one of my letters however; I get this amazing sense of freedom. Like a giant weight has been lifted from my shoulders. Let go and let God. To Him all praise and glory.

Rules for Proper gossiping

Now everyone knows gossiping is one of woman's favorite pass times. Although, gossiping is frowned upon by some and is considered a sin in most religious circles if not done properly. Therefore; I have come up with some rules on proper gossiping technique.
Rule number one: Don't call it gossip. I generally use the term "prayer request". That way I can cover the fact I am gossiping by requesting in full detail prayer for said individual.
Rule number two: As long as you let the person you are gossiping to know how much you truly love the person you are gossiping about, then gossip is okay to do.
Rule number three: If you and the person you are gossiping about are no longer friends, then gossip about that person is acceptable.
Rule number four: Before you gossip, make this statement, " Don't tell anyone". By making that statement beforehand it is not considered gossip. It is just two people carrying on a conversation.
Rule number five: If rule number four does not apply, then make this statement before you begin, "I would not say anything about them that I would not say to their face". This statement will allow you to proceed with said gossip.
Rule number six: As long as you don't gossip in a place of worship or at your place of employment, then it is okay to gossip.
Rule number seven: If you post it in your status on Facebook, then it is not gossip.
Rule number eight: Ignore rules one through seven.
Gossip is never a good idea. Even with the best of intentions the person being gossiped about will always be hurt. So, please do not gossip.

Spider battles ( number one )

One evening I was quietly sitting at my computer when I happened to look upward and on the ceiling was a big black spider. I made a dash to the kitchen to grab my step ladder and one of my converse tennys lying on the floor. Standing on the ladder with shoe in hand, I swatted at the ugly ole spider. ( I missed.)
As if to taunt me, the spider webs down to my filing cabinet, landing on top of my income tax forms. I took my shoe and beat the forms with such fierce, it was as if I was beating the IRS man himself.
When I knew the spider was good as dead, I stopped the beating, looked at the papers, no spider guts. I then looked on the bottom of my shoe. None there either. It was then that I felt the throbbing to the knuckle of my index finger. It was bleeding and starting to swell.
In the heat of battle with the spider, the only damage I caused was to my own finger.
And yet, the spider still lives.

The Death of Chivalry

Chivalry means Knighthood-bravery, nobleness, courtesy, respect for womanly dignity.
Is chivalry dead? Ladies, do we really want those qualities in men that show chivalry to die?
Some months ago on another site, I brought up the subject of chivalry. I commented that I like it when a man holds a door open for me or offers to help me carry a heavy load. I taught my own son to respect women in such a way. I think a man that shows chivalry is a true gentleman.
I received many comments back on the subject. Here are a few of the comments I received:
One said it's admirable, another said desirable. Others agreed it was unnecessary but appreciated.
As I kept reading, the comments took on a darker note. One comment stated that I like being treated as if being a female equals some sort of handicap. Another believes I do not respect men. One called me a uterus-donor ( I don't know what that means, but, it does not sound very
positive.)
The thing what really surprised me was, all the comments came from women. One woman told me she is offended by the idea of a man holding a door open for her just because she is a woman.
So, the question remains, Is chivalry dead? I hope not!

Dictionaries

I would be the first to admit, I can not spell. A serious flaw for someone inspiring to be a great writer someday. However; T'is true. I have always turned to my children and friends for the spelling of words that refuse to form correctly in my mind. I call them my human dictionaries.
Dictionaries have always confused me,( Yes, I know to those of you who know me, confusion comes easy for me.) With that said, as I was sitting here writing another blog, I was stumped by the spelling of a word. So, I went to spell check to find assistance. To my surprise all spell check did was to inform me that I spelled the word incorrectly. ( DUH ). So, I dug out my Webster's Dictionary to hunt down the word. Now, this is the part that confuses me. In order to find the spelling of a word in the dictionary, you must first know how to or come close to knowing how to spell the word all ready. If I knew that much, i would not need the dictionary. See my dilemma? ( By the way, I had to turn to the dictionary to find out how to spell dilemma. I first thought perhaps it started with a " da", then maybe it was spelled starting with "de", it was not until much frustration that I came to the idea that just maybe it was spelled with a "di".) Many times I give up my search and just start playing the guessing game. Typing in random letters in different order in hopes that one of the combination's is the correct one. So, if you come across any misspelled words as you are reading my blogs, please overlook the error. I have come to accept this flaw in my character. My misspellings are just my unique writing technique.

Dementia

In my past life, I worked with people that have dementia. It is a sad mind robbing disease. One gentleman I took care of sat in his wheelchair all day long yelling "Help me please". As I watched him one day, I penned this poem. This is for you Harry: Help me Please

"Help me please" was his cry
you ask his need
confusion was his reply
The nurse gives him a pill
for his mind and soul
to be still
In quite slumber he just sits there
his face with a sad blank stare
What is the need
behind his plea?
A gentle touch or soft word
word from me?
Once a man of such might and
power
now looks to me for his daily
shower.
Years ago was his life-
A home,two children and a
beautiful wife
Now his dear wife of many years
is gone.
His children all grown and lives of
their own.
So, time has brought him to this
place-
loss of memory and confusion on his
face.
What is the need behind his plea?
A gentle touch or soft word from
me.

Retirement

Good day to my fellow bloggers and to those of you whom happen upon my site by chance.
For the past thirty years my number one career choice has been that of mother/father, nurse, teacher, referee, taxi driver, housekeeper and cook.
As of this year, as my last dependent moved away from home, I went into retirement. The one title I will forever keep however; is that of "mother, mom or mommy "as Stacey refers to me.
As my life long career comes to an end, new adventures are on the horizon. What adventures? I was unsure of. "What do I do now that I have only me to think of"?
On bended knee I asked for direction. Then one day, as i was driving down the road, I had an epiphany. Answer to my prayer. The pathway clear: California, that's where my new adventure shall begin. For years my mom has been asking me to move back down to California. Now, after living here for fifteen years, making this place our home and now having grandchildren to spoil, I have not come upon this decision lightly. For several weeks I and people close to me have prayed for the doors to open or remain closed in regards to California.
I now have a peace in my heart and know that California is where I belong at this time in my life. So, as of the first of July, 2010, I am moving back to California where I started from.
I shall keep you all updated on my progress of my journey home.

Baggage

Baggage: I have baggage. Who at my age does not have some kind of baggage. I don't think the issue is that I have baggage, but, how I handle the baggage I have. Some people hold on to their baggage for years, then one day, open up their baggage and dump it on people they meet only to gather it all back up again to dump it on someone new. That person is someone that holds on to the past and lets everyone know what a victim they are from the baggage they carry.
Still, yet, another person will put their old baggage in the closet, keeping it locked inside. Only to bring it out when they feel intimidated by every little thing anyone says to them that reminds them of their baggage. Causing them to be a bitter person that no one enjoys being around. Then there is the third person. The more rare of the three, that will open that baggage up every now and again, taking out little pieces of the past, ironing it out, folding it up and give it away to a good charity. I give my baggage to God. There are times I still just want to hold onto my old baggage, be unforgiving to that baggage. But, it is not healthy to hold onto or try to hide old baggage. Just give or even throw it away. The baggage is old and stinks anyway.

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testing testing. just checking out how this all works.