The Bad Stuff

Alcohol is terrible for you... physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. Don't do it.

Gone

Sitting here.

Drinking a delectable cup of caramel frozen coffee.

Wondering why God takes good things away from us.

...

I've finished my drink, and yet I have no answer.

...

My heart aches.

My drink is gone.

And still.

I have no answer.

Dedicated to all the strong and broken women

who have lost their little ones,

whatever the cause may be.

Some soul-searching

In trying to figure out my future these past few days, I've discovered more about myself than an entire lifetime has taught me.

I want a family. Knew that. I want to get out of debt. Knew that. I want to be at home. Knew that. I want to leave work at work. New one. I want to help people. New one. I only want to dance for the Lord, not as my career. New one. I want to work with youth. New one. I want to organize and help in areas that don't have much help and organization. New one. I want to give myself fully to the work of the Lord, whatever that may be. Knew that... but never accepted it.

All these new realizations have consequently made me think about the decisions I've made thus far. I highly recommend soul-searching for all of you. Take a few days and just talk... talk about what you want. What you don't want. What God wants. Pray. Seek Him, seek Him, seek Him!

It's beating

I’m writing without the slightest clue of what to say. Some call it free writing.

Random thoughts. Pointless envy. Motionless longing. Tired eyes. All of it is sinking deep into my soul, with no release. No release, no point. No point to all this madness. I’m done with him, thank God. I’m done. I long to love again, but I fear I never will. I’m ok if I never love a man. To never love a man… what a concept. My mind is programmed in the old-fashioned way. Grow up, fall in love, make babies, die happily. Note to self: don’t go changin’. My life line is people, but people are also my downfall. My downfall. Hmm. To fall down… never to get back up? Yes, the floor is where I stay. Smothered and battered and ripped to shreds by nothing but my own heart. It beats and moans and lashes out at me. My own heart. Who would have thought? I know it all, but it’s head knowledge; hardly heart knowledge. Like a distant memory; something I’ll always remember, but it gets fuzzy. He get’s fuzzy and stays that way for quite some time. These days, anyway. Pure genius, to get me running back to those great, big, beautiful arms. Silence, and later a hug. During the silence, my heart beats and moans and lashes out. It gives no rest, no goodness, no peace. I’ll die in limbo. Yes, I’ll die in limbo. To never love a man… what a concept. But I am in love with one… one who, quite honestly, I don’t know. When I think of him, my heart beats and moans and lashes out at me. Me, the only one at fault. I’m aware that sand is coarse and rough and irritating… but when it’s pushing through your toes and massaging your feet, you don’t mind so much. It gets everywhere, but that’s the point, I think. My lover made it that way. That’s why I love him: I’m romanced. Every. Single. Day. Motionless longing. Tired eyes. And a heart that beats and moans and lashes out at me. I’m smothered and battered and ripped to shreds by nothing but my own heart. Yes, I’ll die in limbo.

Fix-It Superpower!

Every once in a while it's nice to go back in time; maybe read an old book, revisit a special place, or see an old friend. Whatever it is, nostalgia kicks in and I'm left wondering why I ever let the book or the place or the person slip out of my grasp. Then, after I see or experience or read, I remember. All the bad things that sent shivers down my spine return in a flood of unpleasant memories.

If I could choose a superpower, I'd pick the ability to fix any problem I wanted to. I hate the idea that the world is not perfect and that things don't always go the way you want them to. I tend to place all the blame on myself when things go wrong, and then I try to fix it. Or at least I want to.

What good does that do? Old friends are old friends for a reason. They had their time, it was great, but hanging on only makes life more complicated and harder to bear.

Baby therapy

I've had my share of kiddos in the few days I've been home so far. It's really great to just chill with little ones... I love sitting there watching them play or talk to each other. Unfortunately, I get frustrated when I babysit for one particular family. They have a big, stupid dog... named Louie. *Sigh* I think the parents pay so well because they know I have to deal with the dog more than the kids. Well, Saturday night was quite the adventure...

See, we thought it would be fun to put together a gingerbread house. Fun? Fun?! What was I thinking? Well, we tried "gluing" the house together (and I was corrected many times, "It's not glue, Miss Becca... it's icing!"), but that didn't work out so well. Who the heck thought of slow-drying icing to keep a ginger bread house from slipping and sliding apart? Hmm. Well, all they wanted to do was decorate, so we spread the pieces out on the table... and then spread the icing with our fingers! I mean, why not... they're gonna lick it up and get messy anyway. So, they finished decorating and washed their hands and it all seemed like it was going to work out. We left the pieces on the table to dry. I planned on "gluing" the house together after they went to bed.

Amidst a serious game of fooseball against a 6-year-old, little Emily politely informed me that Louie spit up all over the carpet. I cautiously peeked in the direction she was pointing, and what do you think I saw? Candy pieces and a bit of his dinner on the floor. "Bad Louie!" Wait... candy pieces? How... oh! no! "LOUIE!"

I dashed upstairs and of course, I find sprinkles all over the floor and only four pieces of the house left. If you think about it, there are four walls and two roof pieces. I guessed the other two were inside of Louie. Thank goodness they didn't come up with the candy pieces! Two of the four pieces that were left seemed a little too wet considering the amount of time they had been drying... and in that moment my heart sunk. The kids ran upstairs to see what kind of trouble their dumb dog got into, and as they saw the damage to their artwork, the smiles on their faces vanished. "Ugh! Louie!!! Downstairs you go." Needless to say, that dog makes my skin crawl.

Today, I got to watch baby Kaitlyn for about two hours. As my mother always says, "Sometimes you just need to hold a baby... it's therapudic." I had a great time talking like an idiot, watching her take in the strange, new surroundings in my house. How anyone could not love kids, I will never understand. If I ever come across someone with those issues, I'll just shove a baby in their arms and see the transformation take place.

Having said all that, I will have a silly grin on my face all day, no doubt.

A butterfly can do it... why not me?

"But these things I plan won't happen right away. Slowly, steadily, surely, the time approaches when the vision will be fulfilled. If it seems slow, do not despair, for these things will surely come to pass. Just be patient! they will not be overdue a single day!"

I've always thought I was patient... more than necessary, actually. Lately, it's wearing thin and I'm getting frustrated. With who? God. It makes my insides hurt and my eyes tear up to admit it, but I am. If I think about it long and hard enough, I'll come to realize that my frustration is my own fault... but who wants to admit that? It's easier to push the blame on anyone else but myself.

I wish He would talk... or even just visit me for a minute so I could get a glimpse of Him. "If I could just see you, everything will be all right. If I'd see you, this darkness would turn to light." I often lay in bed just wishing that He would come and touch my face or hug me in His huge, comforting arms and tell me He has it all under control. "Just rest in Me." Well, I've tried resting and trusting. All this patience stuff is overrated. And yet here I sit, being patient because that's what Becca does best. Oy.