Processing Religion with Eyes Wide Open

I'm sitting and he's stumbling out of bed.

Me and my son.  Sitting and stumbling.  All is quiet and it's just me and him.  And the first thing that rolls off his tongue is...

"I am so mad, Mom."  *cue big frowning face*

The following convo proceeds....

"Mom, I don't want to have sisters anymore." -him

"Oh, no, don't say that.  Why, wow, did you say that?  That's not..."  -me

AND THEN SOMETHING AMAZING HAPPENED...

I stopped mid-stream and I started to think, because I am free to think..."What are you doing?" only in my head, not out loud.

And NOW I see "it" liking a blinding flash...this "thing" I do everyday to my poor kids. 

I was trying to fix a problem...again.  I was stopping him up, like I always did and am trying to STOP doing, but I can't stop.  How do I stop? 

I wouldn't even let him talk before I was quick at work to fix, repair his "what I thought" broken thinking, ungodly thinking.  I was glossing over his...pain stemming from something somebody did to him.  And yeah, he was very angry...straight out of bed, so you KNOW, well, common sense should tell me to LISTEN to my kid...let him be HONEST...stop MOWING him down...stop trying to do what ONLY the Holy Spirit can do and shut up and LISTEN.

Listening...

That is a huge word and has much meaning in and of itself.

 To give close attention with the purpose of hearing; to give ear; to hearken; to attend.

Listen. 

So much encompasses the great, big beautiful, freeing globe of listen.  It isn't just a buzz word.  It's where everything starts.  And I mean everything.

Listen.  I have a hard time listening.  I may seem like I am listening to you, but it's false.  I pretend well.  I wasn't listening to you, hearing you while you spoke, well, in most cases.  I was hearing the next thing I want to say, I was hearing all my stuff that's up there in my pious brain, instead of your pain, or your stories or just your words...whatever you chose for them to be that day.  I was quick...in a hurry to get you to see my point, immediately trying to fix you.  Hurrying up to straighten you out along your "way", throwing bible verses at you before I even listened to you.  And I mean listened to you, fully and completely and slowly.  Quick to hear and slow to speak...see it's all in there.    

Sitting and stumbling and free to think.  Free to stumble and free for the first time to actually fully notice it  FOR MYSELF.  

FOR MYSELF.  I don't listen and I don't hear, my kids, you, my husband, all people.  I fake it in most occasions.  I have the concerned gaze and everything, but I'm not doing the real deal. 

I can't believe what a liar I have been.  What a liar.  
 
And I hate lying.  I really do.  I know a few habitual, mass manipulating liars.  And, yeah, I really hate lying.  But, alas, I am a pretender myself, a liar...a poser.  Someone pretending to do something she is not really doing.  Okay, there I said it.  It's true.  
 
And acknowledgment yields power and power yields understanding and understanding yields patience and patience yields growth and growth yields love.
Sounds like some verses to me, but it's not being thrown at anyone else.  This is about ME.  MY journey.  The view from where I sit and I must say...I don't see your view.  I am here, in this cage, trying to break free.  You are where you are and I am where I am.  I won't try to get you to come where I am if you don't try to get me to go where you are.   

So I am at the beginning or should I say end of MYSELF.  I wake up in the morning and I want to listen.  Listen to the real Jesus, the real Holy Spirit.  He speaks to me softly, gently and urgently, pressing me on and breaking me free from...religion, a pious, sanctimonious spirit of self-righteousness.

I have layers of lies that I don't even know about yet.
 
I was in a cage and I am slowly being set free from it...because I am free to think and free to yield to the one true and living God and His love...

With eyes wide open.  Fully open, fully listening...and He's going to do it all for me. 

 
  


 
 

 

Back to the Cradle





Babies.

They are sweet, precious, and wonderful.  They are mind-numbing work, too, especially the first three years. After that it's really cool to see them grow into these little, wonderful flowers who are free.  Seeing them roam where they may, wish they might, freely and free to think for themselves and to be guided in love by people who are here to protect them.

But, my, oh, my, what you PUT in is what you get out.  Oh, well, there now, you have a baby turned into a weapon for the whole of society or tuned into a precious gift to the world to help the broken and wounded and so-called failures.  DON'T I get it...babies are weapons thrown upon the world like bombs if I choose that path.

And it's much more easily done than you can even think.  I can think of one hundred weapons personally, at least, right off the top of my head roaming around there, out there in the world, screwing things up in a big way.  Lying, hating, stealing, pillaging and leaving bodies on the floor everywhere.  And I almost became one cog in the wheel of this madness.  But...no...I can't.  Not knowing now what I didn't know yesterday.

Yeah, it's really bad.  Volumes...coming to light.  I've got a headache and I don't want to do this today.  I don't feel good and Jesus, says I'll do it for you.  Help people and yourself...it's okay.  I'll hold you up.  I'll strengthen you.  Take a sip from my glass of strength and press on...

I must press on.

Babies.  My favorite.  Not everybody's but mine.  I loved my little niece, the first new born I ever held in my empty arms, broken arms, I was nine and she was a fresh breath of air in the house of pain, she still is.  I loved her, fought over her when I was little and now I miss her terribly.  It all started there...I was hooked.  Babies were my thing.  I wanted to be a MOM and I didn't care too much if I was much else...at the TIME.

Now, I realize I am much more than a MOM, I am a child of God and a freer of the abused, broken and abandoned and I am hear to tell you, babies can be your sick weapon of choice if you are not CAREFUL.

Don't believe me, just pick up any newspaper and worse than that, go find a church somewhere and stay for a while.  It's hairy.  It's gritty.  It's raw.  It's evil.  Babies being turned into these mindless creatures that go and decimate people in their path for their own, sick, hurtful devices.  And it's rampant and it's real.  Quit closing your eyes, stopping your ears and ignoring.  It's there.  The real Holy Spirit will show you where...just ask Him.  He'll tell you EVERYTHING you need to know and He'll use broken refuse like me to help you, too. 

What you PUT in is what you get out.

No better example than of MY OWN MESS I have created over here...the land of the pious and self-righteous.  This is my LAND not your land, MY land.  You figure YOURS out.  This is my land from the front porch to the back door.


Kids that used to be babies.  And NOW I see IT.  What AM I trying to do to them?  To you...once they leave here?  Oh.  I've got a headache.  And a sadness.  What have I done?  Recreated my own madness and it is going to stop.

I am so vividly reminded of the time I went to a Mennonite camp meeting and it wasn't bad, it was actually rather freeing in some ways, but I noticed something that JUMPED out at me like lightening.

Even back then, I thought...wow, something is not right here.  I was the only one dressed normal and I mean covered up, just normal and no head covering (they wear stuff, and it's different for different Menonites, on their heads to signify something, I don't want to get into that now, later maybe.) and the kids...that used to be babies with their own parents pouring in, daily cultivating them....the kids stared at me in total disgust and wouldn't speak to me.  No, yeah, and you can't get a disgusted, shriveled up frowning face wrong, not with kids and not with these kids, they wanted me to know that I was an infiltrator.  Why were they doing that to me?  Because something was clearly getting hammered in their head about something...you fill in the blank.  And I have felt this way around other people's kids as well and you may have felt that way around mine. 

Listen, and hear me loud and clear.  When free believers are infiltrators...wow...what does the world become a..........

Hothouse for Hatred

Yup...you said it and I am telling you now, I already see it in my own home and its going to stop, I want it to stop in Jesus' name.

Babies becoming weapons of hater rather than vessels of love.

Think of that the next time you pick up your sweet, cooing baby with beautiful curled hair. 

John Mayer is My Pastor Today

There's No Turning Back

I have opened pandora's box.  I have been awakened.  There's no turning back. 

I only just started this blog yesterday and already "they" are waiting in the wings, waiting to attack and they know who they are.

Waiting, just like I used to wait.

Waiting to pounce.

Waiting to discredit before fully knowing.

Waiting to hurt others in the name of righteousness.

Waiting to try to find one hair of an issue with this blog, so you can do what I have done many times to others, myself...

Throw me under the bus.

I know this was going to be hard, but I never realized it until...

I just did...Nike.


I just started...Nike. 

I just created a spark, a flame of fire that is going to mow down...me, MYSELF, actually MYSELF will still be standing, but the dross is just starting to get hot and begin to melt off.  People, whoever you are, this journey is my own.  I thought I said that already.  So, well.

Wow, hatred, wrath, strife and the desire...the sheer desire, like a cougar waiting....not on the Lord, not walking in love or understanding, but ready and waiting and desiring nothing more than to pounce.

I just don't understand that.

And that powerful click of a mouse and you can control it all.  Let's talk it out.  In private, if that is how you have to do it, but let's hammer away and let's not be afraid.

God hasn't given us the spirit of fear, but I'll tell you...


I am scared half to death and not because of God, but because I need rescuing...from MYSELF and


from so.  many.  people.  who.  claim.  they.  follow.  Jesus.


Jesus, save me from your followers...yes, there is actually a movie about this and it is very good and it really helped me to stop.

Stop controlling.  Stop pouncing.  Stop hurting others.

Stop micro-managing.  Stop trying to fix things, and people all the time.

Just love them.

I hear the criticisms in my head because I was "there".  I did "that".  I did.  I did all of this, my whole life and so much.  I was molded this way.  Yes, I'll give some of the blame to them...those two people who had me, but this is not just a blog about what "they" did or what someone else did, but what "I" did and am doing and want to stop.

This next post will be raw and packed with pain and it's all about ME.  Me modeling out what I have been, what I have been taught and how I have been groomed, by my family, by my Christian High School, by my Christian College, by the IFB church that I went to for eight years.

And I am glad to say that I have walked away from it all to find...the real Jesus and the real bible.

My brain was clouded for thirty years with so much added and taken away from the HOLY SCRIPTURES.


Cherry-picked verses for personal gain or benefit, instead of the whole counsel of God.


The nightmare of comparison and contrasting our lives with everyone else's.

The misuse of scripture over and over and over and over and over again.

The control over others, so acute that, well, not today, I'll end there.

I just can't even believe what a nightmare I have lived.  I had to run away and hide.  We have not been in the formal setting of a church for almost four years and it has been the most wonderful, healing and restorative years of my life.  Stealing away to Jesus.  I am just now starting and thinking wow, what have I become?  Who am I...in Christ?  What am I doing to people?

Some people think it's dangerous...

Some people think it's bitter...

Some people call this unfruitful...

I call it freedom.

The freedom to help ease the pain of others by sharing my own stories.  Oh, no, that's not true...this blog is about ME, MYSELF and I.  Wow, did I say three selfish words in a row?  No, I didn't, but YOU think I did.  You, who hovers over your mouse clicking with bated breath, to forever forget what you were trying to do instead of just talking about "it" and YOU know what it is.  Don't feel bad...I used to do it, too.  Just talk to me, hammer it out.  I want to be reasonable.  And I know, maybe, just maybe it wasn't what I thought it was and that could be true, but I have a feeling that...well.

I used to facebook and delete people...because well, uh, they looked so bad.  Yeah, I am serious.  Sick, isn't it? 

So this is talking, too, anyone who wants to join this fight...this fight against what has been defined to us in our lives as truth...any of it, all of it, every part of life.  I am realizing now that I have been handed piles of garbage to me for years and was told that is was the TRUTH.

Perceptions, assumptions and the tainted view from where I stand has been destroying my whole life, because used to let it.  Not anymore....in Him, I move and have my being. 

This next post is more of my OWN confession, because I am not yet ready to go beyond nothing more than mere confession...not just yet.

Do you remember?

We never talked about it but I hear the blame was mine
I'd call you up to say I'm sorry,
But I wouldn't want to waste your time
'Cause I love you, but I can't take anymore
There's a look I can't describe in your eyes
If we could try like we tried before
Would you keep on telling me those lies?
Do you remember?

There seemed no way to make up,
'Cause it seemed your mind was set
And the way you looked it told me,
It's a look I know I'll never forget
You could've come over to my side,
You could've let me know
You could've tried to see the distance between us
But it seemed to far for you to go
Do you remember?

Through all of my life,
In spite of all the pain
You know that people are funny sometimes,
'Cause they just can't wait to get hurt again,
Tell me do you remember?

There are things we won't recall,
And feelings we'll never find
It's taken so long to see it,
'Cause we never seemed to have the time
There was always something more important to do,
More important to say
But "I love you" wasn't one of those things,
And now it's too late
Do you remember


Phil is helping me tonight. 

Earthly Wisdom

"We Don't Need Another Hero"

OUT OF THE RUINS
OUT FROM THE WRECKAGE
CAN`T MAKE THE SAME MISTAKE THIS TIME
WE ARE THE CHILDREN
THE LAST GENERATION
WE ARE THE ONES THEY LEFT BEHIND
AND I WONDER WHEN WE ARE EVER GONNA CHANGE
LIVING UNDER THE FEAR, TILL NOTHING ELSE REMAINS

WE DON`T NEED ANOTHER HERO
WE DON`T NEED TO KNOW THE WAY HOME
ALL WE WANT IS LIFE BEYOND
THUNDERDOME

LOOKING FOR SOMETHING
WE CAN RELY ON
THERE`S GOTTA BE SOMETHING BETTER OUT THERE
LOVE AND COMPASSION
THEIR DAY IS COMING
ALL ELSE ARE CASTLES BUILT IN THE AIR
AND I WONDER WHEN WE ARE EVER GONNA CHANGE
LIVING UNDER THE FEAR TILL NOTHING ELSE REMAINS

ALL THE CHILDREN SAY
WE DON`T NEED ANOTHER HERO
WE DON`T NEED TO KNOW THE WAY HOME
ALL WE WANT IS LIFE BEYOND
THUNDERDOME

SO WHAT DO WE DO WITH OUR LIFES
WE LEAVE ONLY A MARK
WILL OUR STORY SHINE LIKE A LIGHT
OR END IN THE DARK
GIVE IT ALL OR NOTHING

WE DON`T NEED ANOTHER HERO
WE DON`T NEED TO KNOW THE WAY HOME
ALL WE WANT IS LIFE BEYOND
THUNDERDOME




Huh.  Wow, Tina.

Blankets...As in Statements, Bondage and Control








Guess what?

It's happening again.  The urge to write is "it" this time and it keeps me lit up even though there is a pain in my neck and my backside is turning numb.  No, it really is.  I tend to really exaggerate(such a bad habit I have and I am "working" on it, but wait I can't "work" on it...can I?  Aww, shucks we'll talk about that laatterrr.), but not this time, I think.  But wait...shouldn't I be watching my kids, feeding them, helping them, holding them?  I ONLY have five of 'em(and if another lady tells me they "only" have two kids or "only" has one kid or oh, man, I don't have kids *cue frowning face*, after I tell them I have 5 kids, I am going to scream, I mean, I am just telling you how MANY kids I have...that is it!  Oh wait, oh, Deb, control yourself, that would be bad to scream, shout or show ANY kind of emotion or irritation.  Stop it.  In any case, our guard goes up and we start that whole comparing crap*that's what it is, is there any better word?*  Okay, yes, I'll go to the scriptures...it is UNWISE, comparing crap that is, well, not comparing crap, oh, you know what I mean!) 

Shouldn't I be serving my poor, tired husband somehow?  Nope.  I am supposed to do this right now.  The kids are watching Alvin and the Chippies(I hate that show!  Oh, and now it is Max and Ruby...what a relief I love that show!), my husband is fooling with my new droid phone(he needs his own stinkin' droid and so do each one of the kids and they need to leave mine ALONE!) and he's bringing me one cup o' joe after thee nother one, sweetened and creamed to perfection because he loves me SO much and because he knows I got his back where the coffee is concerned when he is in the fray hammering away himself somewhere, somehow in his mind.  The nitty, gritty pain, sadness and regret is coming.  My kid is getting me some water and I am going to take two extra-strength tylenol, rapid(thank God for smart people!) release to deal with the pain and sorrow and sadness this next post is to me. 

And what do we call that...it is called freedom.  The smell of freedom, the taste of prime rib and the desire never, ever to go back to chuck roast.  Well, freedom within reason, we don't want to get carried away or what one somebody told me one time, "We can't go all willy, nilly or something crazy, because the Holy Spirit?  How could He ever control and help you?  Do what I say and what you are told and nobody will get hurt!  Well, in all serious, now, (alert, alert, alert! the sarcasm is slowly ending or maybe not totally, I am not sure yet.) serious sobriety, there's disaster and so many are getting hurt and it isn't an "isolated" incident.  It is not something exclusive to any group, but a prevailing taint that has TAKEN over.  Over what?  WHO has taken over what?  Well, let's talk about it.  Who has taken over who?

And again, I am just getting started.

*Prayers going up* 

Okay, stop, wait, that's sanctimonious junk.  (Wait, am I pre-judging myself?  Could be, but I am pretty sure I am not.  I know my preprogrammed, brainwashed mind more than any other earthling.  Btw, greetings earthlings, *cue robotic, alien voice* you are welcome to join me in this journey, say whatever you want and hammer with me because I love all earthlings everywhere no matter what they think, I hope I do, well, I want to.) 

I don't need to tell anyone that I am praying and uh, I think God would rather that I didn't tell people that I am praying because they don't need to know or maybe they do, sometimes.  And where in the world in the bible do you see anyone telling anyone else that they are praying for them?  Uh, oh, I'm doing what I am good at, standing on my soapy, slippy sliding soapbox.  I think I am going to fall off and bust my head or break my neck. 

I just need to pray.  Just do it.  Nike.  Yeah, I really, really like that slogan.  If Nike had (I'm sure they do!) a facebook, friendy, pagey, thingydingy(wow, did I just invent a compound word...I'm genius, yes, I am.) I'd be slamming the like button forever and ten days.  Just.  Stinkin'.  Do.  It.  Don't keep telling everybody and then you are totally feeling terrible when you promise to pray(or promise yourself to give to yourself!) and don't.  I, me, I want to stop the madness, folks, for myself, MYSELF.  This is a personal journey, for me, myself!  Don't know about you...chime in WHENEVER you want.  I love hearing from people...all people.  EVERYWHERE.  Collaboration is good, not bad.  It is good, really good.  The meeting of the minds hardly ever happens where I stand and we need it, yeah, every single day.  For real.  Oh, I like "for real," that's another keeper.  Honestly.  Oh, wait, I hate that word, because it sounds really...I don't know, just, bleh.

There I go AGAIN, rabbits in the trees and all along the pathway and hanging in the trees leaving their trails behind them.

*deep breath*  Really, really deep breath.  *sigh*  *long, horrible, miserably, pathetic, weepy, starving child kind of sigh*   

I have tried to control others.  For. So. Much. Of.  My. Life.  I was controlled my whole life or brainwashed or manipulated by scores of well-meaning earthlings, under the guise of love or not, or throw the sweet lovely guise in the trash can and you've just got ugly, abusive controllers and I am here to say...I am ready to examine, observe, see, admit and stop the madness....FOR MYSELF.  Again, do what YOU want.  You are you.  And I am me.  And I want to say, that I have never fully admitted to myself or others that I have tried to control people.  And now I want "it" denounced, decried and "it" to become repulsed and disgusted by yours truly.  Control.

I am, was, were a master controller.  A master manipulator.  On purpose, for my cause, or just in ignorance and all in the name of Jesus, somehow.  Well, I am now becoming a conscientious objector.  I am done fighting the battle control wished for me to wage.  I am putting my weapons of guilt, shame, ridicule, twisted coercion, and assumptions and presumptions and perceived reality to rest.  R.I.P. my enemy, forevermore, never to be revived, please?  Just go away and leave me alone.  Is it that easy?  Can I just say it and it magically disappears.  My BIG lust for control is just going to disappear, really?  No, not really, but here we are...a place of admittance.  Others have gotten the whole "don't control people down thing" years ago.  Me, we are just starting.  I am ripping down the wall of control with a pick ax(Jesus is my pick Ax, yes, He is and if I don't include Him right here and right now in my post I'm going to feel bad and not because He is making me feel bad, but because I am afraid of those, just like myself, who are ever trying to control someone else.).  One day at a time I want to be totally rid of this ugly, nasty thing that has eaten up the better part of my life, taken my joy and left so many people jaded and hurt and misdirected as a result of me...my doing.  I just want to cry.  Did I really do this, that, now, here, just yesterday(to a dear, young friend)?  It's a long journey...and a friend told me this morning(thank God for friends who have a brain!)...it all starts with ME.

Ghandi said, (yeah, Ghandi, he was a smart and wise guy and I bet he's a true believer...it just sounds like he might be and who cares? And if he isn't I pray Jesus takes his soul over.  We can learn from anybody anyway, right?!  Of course, right!).  Well, he said, "Be the CHANGE you wish to see in the world!"  Ghandi probably didn't put the good, 'ole exclamation point there probably, but I'm putting it there, folks.  Folks is a keeper, too.  I like that one.  Chalk it up.  It's staying, at least for now.  Ghandi was great and I am just giving his great quote a little bitty umph, a little push. 

And with that push, I am falling off a cliff, descending down and down and I don't really know completely where I'm going to fall.  I am scared half to death, but I am smiling, because I think, I believe at the end of the long, hurling descent there "it" is...the place where the control death drop( I should say LIFE drop...it is LIFE, a life drop!!) stops.  There is life in abundance.  Peace in abundance, over in abundance and a soft place to fall...straight into the arms of Jesus, the lover of me, the lover of them who I have been trying to control all this time.  Oh, it's so safe and restful there.  He's going to feed His flock like a Shepard, he's going to gather the lambs with His arms and gently lead those that are with young.  His yoke is easy and His burden is LIGHT.  There...that place I can say I love you and mean it, no matter what anybody does.  No matter...what.  Those matters aren't MY matters.  Those matters are theirs and Jesus' matters.  I need to love unconditionally.  Just like Jesus loves me. 

And the burning question here is, where do I get all of this control?  Where does it come from?  And I mean earthly control, the need to dominate everyone and everything in my pathway?  Like no, honey, don't take that turn, I know best, take this turn!  *Let the poor guy drive the car without you telling every little turn*  Or kids, you can't play with the chalk on the sidewalk right now because you need to do five more chores after I just had you "do school" and basic chores!  *Really, you control freak, do you really need to be so persnickety, give them a break*  Or much worse...thou shaltest homeschooleth your kiddseth all thy life no matter whatest or you are evilest!  Okay, there I go exaggerating again (I told you it was a weakness) and making a blanket statement in a post that is against blanket statements, but remember what I told you...this is just whatever "it" is.  I don't fully know it all yet nor will I ever, but I decry knowing it all because I feel like I don't know much...but I know Jesus loves me and He promised me He would never leave me or forsake me or wait, did He only tell the Jews in the Old Testament that?  Is it really for me, too, or no?  But He won't love you if..........?  Okay, just try to fill in that blank.  I'm not talking about what you are going to come up with to totally derail this whole point I'm making "here".  You KNOW what I am talking about.  Don't play dumb...and I am talking to myself.  This whole blog is a life in parentheses and talking out loud about everything...but you already figured that out, I surely hope.

We all have some of it, control, I mean, and it's got to stop and I'll tell you I CAN'T stop.  And given that, I have already said I would stop being controlling, but I can't.  I am just contradicting myself.  How can I stop?  And I am asking you, the people, whoever you are.  I have lived my whole life like this.  My.  Whole.  Life.  What can I possibly do?  It's all I have ever known.  I have been programmed to think in the way of control. 

Dr. Phil, yeah, I don't care for him all that much, just my opinion(oh, and there's going to be many of those "here", opinions are allowed here and I'll try and save it for here, but you never know), but he said something that rings true..."you can't change what you don't acknowledge."  Where have you been all my life, Dr. Phil?  Corny Dr. Phil.  I could have learned from...you.  Yeah, him.

So, today, I am paying attention, I am waking up, I am seeing control in my life for what it is and I am acknowledging the ugly monster behind the curtain.  In fact, I am scratching at those itchy blankets, like blank checks that fill up with my crap that I use to buy more and more control over these poor people that put up with me.  Yes, I am taking them off.  Some blankets are so tight and they are stuck.  The glue of the "unknown" is thick and sticky and it won't.  Let.  Me.  Even.  Go.


But only time will tell, in five minutes my big mouth is going to open up and all I can say is God help me, I am drowning in control.   "I never said it would be easy.  I only said it would be worth it."


Set me free.  Pick me up.  Oh, God, please forgive me for MY control.  

The Caveman Just Discovered the Wheel

I can't believe it.

I.  Am.  Having.  It.  Yes, I am.  It's here and I never thought it would be so soon and at such a young age.  Yeah, I am 23 plus ten.  It's, it's a bird, it's a plane, it's a full blown mid-life crisis.  Yes, it has inevitably happened.  I feel like I am losing my mind.  I am losing my mind or gaining it rather.  Gaining my mind...yes, I am gaining a new mind and losing my old mind.  My spoken and written words, my actions, my brain and my heart have totally taken over my life, my mind, my being and I have a serious headache.

I have a serious headache and I have a wonderful problem all at once.

I want...wow, I am using the word "I" in abundance...TO WRITE.


I can't take it any more.  There is too much rambling around inside my brain like...
 
How do I process my horribly controlling and abusive childhood and help others and WRITE about it without seeming "bitter and hateful" to my counterparts or my family?

There's a whole book right there.  No, I am serious.  That is one WHOLE book if I really allowed myself the time.  Yeah, and that is another mid-life crisis word...ALLOWED MYSELF, along with the word "I"!

Here's another whole book...Where Did All the Thinking Christians Go?  Yeah, like, where did I go or where have I been rather?

Another book...What Does it Really Mean to Love People?  Words.  Pages.  Swirling.  Night. And.  Day.  In my head.

Another book I could write...Kids are Essential for Knocking All the Rough Crud Off of the Old Folks.  That's me.  Or better titled...Yeah, I Thought I Had This Parenting Thing All Figured Out and Then, Bam, Baby, over the head with another bigem, bigum?, big one?  Oh, I don't know, you know what I mean.  

Back to the original subject, I give to everyone except myself in most cases...and I am done.  Well, not really done, but sort of done.  I LOVE to give, but I need some more giving to this direction *finger pointing directly at me*.  I am going to be full enough with self help so I can help everyone else.  Does that make sense?  Even if it doesn't make sense, who cares.  It is what it is.  I am going to give to MYSELF and not feel bad.  I am going to take the time to write.  I have something to give, something to share, a way to help and want a place to think.

I want to write for MYSELF.  Wow, I already said that.  It's a mid-life crisis AND an early onset of alzheimer's.  I want to enjoy and to have something for MYSELF.  Wow, did I say that word again.  I have given to others until my eyes are bleeding and I am tired.  Tired of not having one thing for ME.  One place where I think, heal, learn, grow, process, heal some more and WRITE!

Join me or ignore me...but you don't want to miss this...it is going to be a very wild ride. 

I have checked my brain out at the door for TOO LONG...

as a horribly abused child(back when my brain was physically owned by someone else), as an Independent Fundamental Baptist preacher's daughter, as a pawn in the hands of so many others, used, manipulated and brainwashed.  So many people used my mind as their playground and God in Heaven, please help me to stop the madness that has been done to me, so it may not happen to others.  Sometimes you recreate your own madness in a different way and spill it on to others and I have done that.  I can't BELIEVE that I have done that!  I want to stop and process some other way...a way that takes my desire to control people, to conditionally love people, to put all things in my OWN box and expecting others to process it my way or the high way...I'm chucking all that in the trash for something better.  A WAY that works for the benefit of all.  It's a vague thought for now and not so clearly defined yet, but a true one, nevertheless. 

I have gone on auto pilot for SO MANY YEARS.  I refuse to anymore.  

And I realize, I don't know much.  There's so much more to the story.  To my story.  Everyone's story.  I need to think about that the next time I open my mouth or write anywhere other than here.  Here is gritty.  I may delete, re-write, take it back, shock you out of your gourd, really, rethink and hammer it out again and again here.  I want to be in tune!  In tune with the real Holy Spirit, in tune with the real God of this world and in tune with people and in tune with the culture! 

And if you want fluff or farmville, what a crock!  *cue the interlude music, dramatic pause, hold on, wait a minute, a light bulb just turned on inside my head, what did I just say?*  Oh, wait, that was a judgment.  Some people really need farmville, kind of like I need to post statuses on facebook about nothing or the cute thing my kid just did.  So again, if you want roses and sunshine, hearts, flowers and beautiful pictures of my kids, check out my facebook page because this blog won't be for that.  No pictures, no homeschool links(wait, I take that back), no recipes(well maybe one or two), no rolling hills with the sheep in the pasture...in SAFE pasture with a loving SHEPARD and I will get to HIM, too.  No, no, this will be none(well, maybe some) of that.   

Twill be raw, ugly thinking in its organic phase.  I'm throwing it all out on a limb because I am like a pot ready to boil over and those poor people over there (where is there? I don't know, someone tell me.) on facebook are so very tired of my ramblings and who can blame them?  Wow, two similes in one sentence.  Or is it analogies or comparisons?  Am I the queen of rabbit trails, or what?  Okay, that is too many questions.  See, I told you I was having "it".

My hammering out will be here, my thinking will be here, my healing will be here, all just another piece in the puzzle of my long, long journey.  I will be here writing "this" once a day.  It's my second safe place.

If you want to walk it through, talk it out, set me straight, read my lines, contribute to the fray instead of meshing in...then you are very welcome here.  Let's hammer things out together. 

Come let us reason together, says Jesus.  Reason, logic, and critical thinking.  Can you imagine that?  I just discovered the wheel.  Verily, I did.  Jesus said that.  To use our brains.  Wow, this is getting really redundant.  I think you totally get the point.

These potatoes have baked for too long and they are coming out of the oven hot, fresh and ready to chew on and totally and completely and absolutely organic.   

One big word for you as you read, if you read, too, is concessions( and that's in all caps without really using threatening seeming caps like I did before)....and....lot's of them, concessions.

Hey, I like the word organic.  It's a keeper.

My husband brought me a cup of coffee...why is it so good?  I want to know!  Oh, wait, it's the cream and sugar and it's Caribou.  That's WHY!  And because I didn't have to make it and because I have a wonderful husband who "serves" me as much as I "serve" him.  

I could cry, I could dance, I could sing because...

I am free to think.