A Tribute to Friendship, Sex, & Milkshakes

Thankful tears flowed from my eyes this morning as I thanked a friend for being the blessing he is in my life.

He is my imperfect friend who has no pressure to live up to anything but being him, because his perfectly imperfect genuine self is a rarity.

Take a big, beautiful heart and add in compassion; understanding; trustworthy; humor; integrity; wisdom;hysterical; God loving; creative man who is well dressed and super fun ..there is my dear friend.  See?  Rare.

He accepts me as is.  He loves me as is.  He might sometimes be disappointed for my choices and how they will affect me; at the same time, he is not disappointed in me.  Big difference.

He encourages me to be the best version of me I can be while never loving me any less as I travel my journey and sometimes behave like a dumbass. (true story) We speak truth to one another; even when truth is ugly feeling.  The thing is…when truth is spoken in love and safety is present…it’s a sacred treasure.  He challenges me when it’s uncomfortable and would be much easier to not.

He knows my everything.  My everything is safe with him.  He has never played judge and jury to me.  That is magical.  We’ve all been in a place that we believed we were truly safe with someone…until a dreaded, unexpected moment illuminates a reality that safety has been an illusion.  There was not acceptance and love of who you are; perhaps there was acceptance and love for who they want you to be.  That is not magical, it sucks.

Laughter, tears, and everything in between are welcome. He is proud of my accomplishments, generous with his encouragements, okay with my sunshine as well as my melancholy and super fun to go to the grocery store with.  He loves sex (not with me), milkshakes, animals, learning and laughter.  The countless endless conversations we have will never have sufficient words to let him know that he is cooler and more than he will ever grasp.

I hope and pray I provide the same for him.  There are perhaps 10 people in my world outside of my family that I have this type of friendship with.  I intend to ensure they always know how deeply I love them.

As I expressed my gratitude to my precious friend this morning, my heart was pinged.  Is this not how our God designed us to be in relation with one another?   We are made in His image, right?  I know God loves me.  He made me.  He knows my heart, he knows the numbers of hairs on my head for goodness sake.  He knows my journey.  God weeps with me, rejoices with me, and loves me in the messy middle (which is where my humanness seems to have me living the majority of the time).

Beloved human connections (could, should, can) mirror our relationship with God.  We are God’s heart, walking outside of His body but still in Him.  Our loves are the same…pieces of our heart walking outside of our body but always in us.

True Friendship…it’s a beautiful form of intimacy.  In our individuality, we are still all reflections of each other.  In our separateness, we are still made to be unified.  How cool is my God?  Not only does he offer me unconditional love and friendship through Him…he gives me that in real live humans.

The reciprocity of real friendship is the ultimate legacy to leave with another.  This type of friendship has impacted my life profoundly for the better.

I am grateful to have even one friend of this caliber in my life; sex and milkshakes too.

Philippians 1:3  “I thank my God upon every remembrance of you.”

 

In the meantime

In the meantime….

My downstairs toilet made a gurgling noise two nights ago.  There was nothing in the toilet so I flushed it to see if the noise would stop.  Instead of flushing down, water rose to the top.  Despite my professional plunger efforts, the water would not go down.

I shut the water valve to the toilet off before running to home depot (literally across the street)  to purchase Green Goblin to destroy the issue…I thought.  I always used this in our old home and had great success.  Anywho…never had to use the Green Goblin as I returned home and saw that the toilet had drained.  Whew.  Bullet dodged.

I made a quick trip to Walmart (a block away) to grab a few groceries…maybe gone 20 minutes.  I came back to such a surprise!  Poop water (aka sewage…aka Class 3 according to the restoration man) had flooded every crevice from the downstairs bathroom, down the hall, down the stairs into my split level living room and into the living room.

An.explosion.of.poop.  Everybody’s poop.  Thank God my adrenaline was pumping so hard that I didn’t have time to stop and reflect on the new floor covering.  I knew my friend was on his way over so we could watch a movie and have dinner.  Honestly, my first thoughts were that he was going to gross out and leave me here to deal with this.  I would need to call my brother or my ex husband.

I had begun laying towels everywhere when friend (we will call him D) walked in.  I yelled for him to be careful.  Without explanation; he knew what was on the floor.  Instead of leaving, he grabbed towels and started helping me with the mess.  Together we cleaned, using every single towel, sheet and blanket that we could find.  I know…gross.

We had almost everything cleaned.  I began my second round of sanitizing laundry and we decided to go to Home Depot for a big mop.  We made another expedient trip there, grabbed a mop and $5 mop  bucket (Did you know some mop buckets cost $70 or more?)

We came home, ready to mop and sanitize; shower and order dinner…in that order!  Can you imagine the expletives that sounded when we walked in to find that sudsy water had now flooded the entire living room floor? As a matter of fact, that water was still shooting out of the sink in the bar area as well as from underneath the sink where the pipes are.

We did our best to keep up but it would not stop (yes, D shut the water valve under the sink off).  He mopped, and I (with gloved hands) squeezed the mop….since I didn’t buy the $70 bucket with the squeezee apparatus.  We were our own Saturday Night Live episode…from back in the good ole days…when SNL was super funny!

D told me to shut the washing machine off when he surmised that is where the water was coming from.  He was correct.  The pouring of water stopped.  Finally.  The floor was soaked, we were drenched in water and poo water and all the yuck; still we were laughing.  So thankful for D’s presence and willingness to help….sometimes we need a friend to help us not become blithering balls of tears curled up in the fetal position, right?  Sometimes those friends are the same ones laying curled up with us…but that’s for another post.

I felt that the floor needed just one more round with the mop.  D told me we had done all we could for the night; the floor was slippery and I needed to stay off of it so I didn’t fall.  I know I have balance issues, true.  I didn’t realize the floor was quite as slippery as it was.

Being a tiny bit of a stubborn soul, I decided yes to one more round with the mop.  I headed down the steps into the living room.  My bare feet gave way to the wet floor.  There I was…on my bottom, sliding down the hard, sharp edged stairs.  One, two, three, I hit each of them with my booty, tailbone and right hip.  Ouch.

This was reminiscent of being a little kid who loved sliding down the carpeted stairs on her booty.  Reminiscent because I slid down so easily; yet entirely a different experience.  D helped me up.  Kind of.  As much as I would allow. Falling tends to make me feel fearful…too much passing out as a kid.  Yuck.

Anyway….I had attempted to call my property management company emergency number several times, as well as their office, when this was happening.  I never got a call back.  I finally reached out the the owner of my condo and told him.  He was sending a plumber in the morning.  I felt it needed to be right then, but I am not the decider of all things.

In the morning, the property management company called.  By now, I was fuming that they had not called me and been a part of any of this.  Long story short, the office person tends to be extremely rude, makes me feel like a criminal any time I report something and now was asking numerous questions that supported her past behavior.  I felt she was trying to make this my fault.

I sent an email of complaint and asked for her supervisors number.  I did not get that yet.  I have gotten a sudden amount of kindness when she speaks to me.  I still want to speak with the supervisor.

The restoration company is now ripping out the entire living room floor bc of the class 3 damage.  When the owner was speaking with the property management company, she asked him to step away from me to talk.  This was obvious and confirmed when I asked him about it later. My mistrust in her affirmed in that moment.

Thank God the plumber found NOTHING in the system that was not supposed to be there.  I was well aware that if the clog were due to feminine products, we would be responsible.  (We grew up with a very touchy septic system and our Daddy drilled it into our heads that only toilet paper went down the toilet.  If there was a clog, we girls knew the first question from Dad would be; “Did you flush anything that shouldn’t be flushed?”) My daughter and I are both extremely cautious about this as are our guests (at least we make them aware…I never have actually accompanied anyone on their potty break).  Still…lots of teenage girls so that was a thought on my side too.

I am sure the property company management (PMP} lady dislikes me.  Or she likes to pretend she dislikes me for fun?  At this point, the owner might dislike me too and I hate that possibility.

PMP lady has told me the owner is frustrated with all of ‘my issues’.  I reminded PMP lady that with exception to one issue and this, everything I have turned in has been existent since before we moved in on March 24 of this year.  It takes me several times to get a response and then several weeks for them to provide the cheapest solution possible.  I’m sure the owner is paying them and I wonder if this is just how the system always works.

Enough of that!  Last night, the precious people from the restoration company were working hard well past 8 pm.  I came downstairs to get a drink and didn’t realize that it was wet at the bottom of the stairs.

I was made aware of the wetness as my bottom again made contact with the ground, magically, I bounced off the same areas this go round too!  The people working were super kind and tried to help me up.  I assured them I was fine and just needed a moment.

Truly not their fault, I just didn’t anticipate the wet floor.  I am moving around like a little ole lady this morning!  Lol but not really lol.

Here it is…no matter who is pleased with me or not (and lately it seems like a lot more not than this lady is comfortable with)…I’m okay.

God has my back and He is Good.  All of the time.  Even as I walk through literal s*h&t, he provides a tangible friend here for me and always His mighty love.  The question remains as always…will I accept it?

Still, my bum hurts.

A learning curve

It feels very freeing to say that I do not have respect for President Trump’s character, evidenced by his behavior and actions. I am regretful that I have danced around those words for so long.

Am I still a law abiding, respectful, compassionate and loving citizen. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.

I am frustrated every single time I mention Trump, I am met with how I ‘don’t see the good’. I never said he has not done some beneficial things. His character representation makes me sick to my stomach and afraid for what our children are seeing as a demonstration of leadership. I guess it would be more than fair for me to ask why the Trump defenders can’t see the damage.

Do I believe God can even work all things for good in the current state of the world? I 100% believe that, though it is beyond my scope of understanding.

I would love to invite my world to think on these….

Can we be less about ‘you are right and I am wrong’?

What would happen if we moved away from the ‘yes,but’s’ and toward ‘let me truly hear and consider your experiences and heart”?

When disdain for someone’s actions is stated, would it be possible to consider the other lens for a moment before the original statement is personalized and personal attacks or defenses are made? The pause is a powerful thing.

Instead of ‘those Republicans’, ‘the Dems’, ‘the Liberals’ or a certain flavor of religion, sexuality, etc; could we see each other as human beings who all have the same basic needs? Humanity, safety, love and compassion.

Disliking someone’s actions and behaviors doesn’t make me less of a person. It means I have a brain for logic, a heart for feeling and a voice for using.

Instead of saying, ‘I don’t see color’, and softening my voice so I am not seen as a contrarian or fearful that I’m not knowledgeable enough to use my voice, I am working on a change.

I do see color because we ALL see color. What I do with that is the important thing. Let’s have tough conversations, we can do hard things.

Softening my voice for the sake of another’s comfort when it comes to matters that matter is a disservice to myself and to others. Change the world, one heart at a time, right? Starting with my own.

Silent because I don’t know enough? BS. I’m well educated, intelligent and yearning to learn and see so that I can do better.

I believe strongly that diversity is a beautiful gift. I also intensely believe that unity can be found among diversity; just as peace can be found among chaos.

I’m Here.

So much time to think and think and think some more….
 
Today’s insight….
 
I graduated in December, 2020, with my Masters in Counseling Psychology. Until July, 2019, we had a couple of years to take the test required for LPC licensure.
 
In July, 2019, the regulations changed. That test had to be taken BEFORE a Masters person could go become a supervised candidate for LPC licensure. Bummer. Oh well.
 
My plan was to take the test at the end of February. Instead, we sold our home on February 14. (A significant date of beginnings and endings in my life, it seems).
 
I remained flexible, reminded myself that I was in competition with no one regarding when I took my test, and refocused on my own race. I decided that I would get moved asap and take the test in April.
 
Then…we all know what happened in March and April. Covid-19 became a part of our daily vocabulary and changed everything. I struggled with all of what everyone else struggled with. For a minute, I got a bit frustrated and frozen about the timing of all of this. Don’t judge…sometimes my inner 4 year old speaks louder than grown up me.
 
I still can’t take my test. It’s not being offered at this time and I don’t really know when it will be. I need to study more anyway because I’m way off track there. Still, I’ve been reminded that all things don’t occur according to my plan. Thank God for that.
 
Circling back to this moment. I am still working as a Case Manager for seniors in our community. I have continually said that it will be horribly hard for me to leave my true work family and clients. However, according to my own plans, this would’ve occurred already as I hopefully would’ve passed my test and moved on (to an LPC candidacy position).
 
In my version, I would’ve begun a new job and who knows with all of this hullabaloo if I’d even still have it. Instead, I am right where I belong. I am absolutely honored to be there for my clients, some of who I’ve worked with for 3 years. They are afraid and not always trusting. It is a gift to have a pre-existing relationship with them and be able to assist and serve them, even if it looks different. I have the safety, comfort and familiarity of my team at work, whom I love and adore. I am deeply grateful for all of this.
 
Since 2011, I have hung on to God’s promise in Joel 2:25. I don’t know much; yet I know this verse has felt so real to me. HE WILL RESTORE THE YEARS THE LOCUSTS HAVE EATEN. I don’t know all of His promises. I’m unsure how to interpret what I do know. Still, whatever He has promised me feels like it should be covered under this verse. God knows what the locusts have eaten away at in my spirit, and He knows what it means to bring restoration. Restoration according to His plan, not mine. There is tremendous comforting personal truth in these words for me.
 
I wish I could say that these words ended my doubts, resolved my trust issues and increased my belief 200%. I can say that I am so thankful to see God in this moment. I am glad I see His work in hindsight and that I am aware enough to realize that I’d like to trust Him with my future just as deeply.
 
I ask God questions such as; “Why did you have me go to school later in life if everyone is just going to get Covid anyways?” I go crazy with my what if’s and the tone in my head is a little edgy. And a little more edgy until internally, I’m a little over the edge, lol! (But not really lol)
 
I’m here. Praying, wondering, believing, doubting, feeling all the feels and shutting every feeling off.
 
Where are you?

My heart’s response…what’s yours?

My version in response to this…

“I am praying for you.”

Translation: You matter and I am concerned. Practicing the art of surrender and trust is so hard for me whether it’s to, “trust the process”, “trust the universe”, “trust the pole”, or anything else. This includes surrendering you and your outcome. I personally choose to pray to God because my past experiences, my faith, and my heart make me believe this is the most loving and viable option.

“If you don’t get COVID-19, we will claim God shielded.”

Translation: I won’t. I will struggle with why some people did and some people didn’t. I might wonder why a person ignores every request to social distance. I might wonder why they still got it even if they seemed to do everything right. I likely will never understand. Whether I believe in God or not, I will resolve that no human ever has all the answers….so we create our own. This gives us an illusion of control where we truly have none. But humanly, we believe an answer will make us feel better. In the meantime, I will continue to wrestle w God and human reasoning, just as I always do. The answers will be my own, for this is my journey.

“If you do get it and recover, we’ll claim God healed.”

Translation: if you get it and recover, I will be eternally grateful. I will again struggle with why some people got it and recovered while some didn’t. I will choose to believe that, “Jesus wept“ while we wept. I will remember that life and breath are precious and none of us know when our first or last days will be… This matters if a big semi hits us, if we take our own lives, if there is cancer or heart disease, if there is just no reason…Not one human makes it out alive. We can choose gratitude or we can choose constant struggle. Personally, I usually choose a little of both. I don’t know how to do different than that, I myself am human.

“If you die, we’ll explain that God had a reason..”

Translation: this is the biggest copout religious people ever use. I don’t believe God controls us like checker pieces, but I used to. I believed that we were like goldfish swimming around in his tank. Now I believe the saying that I’ve heard so many times. “We are not humans having a spiritual experience. We are spiritual beings, having a human experience.” This life is not permanent, no matter your belief system.

It is possible that the same results are possible by praying to a telephone pole. Again, my life has led me to this place and I believe the deep joy I experience in the midst of shit is the result.

I recently read that we don’t pray to change God, we pray to change ourselves.

If the same happens by praying to a telephone pole, you change….then good for you or whomever.

I’ve tried endless options as far as beliefs and religion go.

I don’t like religion and I don’t like rules around it. I do like relationship and relationship with God has gotten me through so very much in my life.

Some people can call that a crutch and others say “God is good”.

I believe the latter and I believe that I serve a God who loves us more than I could ever imagine.

None of that changes the fact that I am human and I am infallible. Whether I’m a believer or not, I never get all the answers.

I wonder if life is less about the outcome and more about the journey.

That said, I respect the journey..your’s, mine, and everyone else’s.  I’m only walking in my shoes.

 

This kinda sucks…we can do it but it sucks

What breaks my heart about right this moment is the separation we are needing to experience to hopefully make things better.

I miss my Momma. So much. I miss hugging her more than anything. I miss my son and baby daddy as well. I miss all of the people and all of the hugs.

I am so thankful to get to see them on facetime and otherwise.

Now…one of my precious friends from my days at Autumn Leaves is getting weaker every day. She is one amazing lady. Time with her family is certainly limited and that hurts me for everyone. Facetime isn’t going to help her as much as it does me. Yuck.

Then, for the babies just born (my baby Henry) and for the ones getting ready to be born…it hurts not to be a part of their days and worlds. Just not fun. For the Momma’s and Daddies either.

Losing precious real time with the ones I love sucks. It may be refocusing me back to what matters and put my attention on deeper things and on God for sure, but it sucks.

Lastly, I’m making calls to check on my clients. I just got off the phone with a lovely, endearing 87 year old woman. She could barely hear me, her closed captioning wasn’t working. She could read my name and number though and is going to try to call me later. She was very confused (dementia ugh) and thought I was her son. She wanted me to ‘come up for coffee’. She told me she loved me and couldn’t wait to see me. I told her I loved her to, and couldn’t wait to see her either. I can’t. I will but I hate it.

Trying to be grateful, grateful, grateful and see all of the blessings and growth in this season…and I do. I’m human though, and I hate unknowns and all of this scary stuff.

Stick together as best you can, love well, STAY HOME!  We can do this.

Loving you all and hoping you feel as loved as I do, even in this muck.

Live Well

Honestly, the coronavirus makes me a little bit nervous. A wee bit for myself but mostly for other people.

That big ole stroke in 2009 threw it in my face; Life is fragile and life is fleeting.

I manage what I am able as healthily as I can. The truth is and always has been, I am not in control of the number of breaths I am gifted with. Nobody is. We can manage ourselves but we ultimately do not decide when our last breath will be.

I spent plenty of time this week reflecting and struggling with underlying anxiety. There’s always that part of me that is like, “what would my kids do without me? “. Mom worry. On top of that, people that I love dearly are hurting, and I can’t fix it. I’ve had to take a break from seeing my clients in group settings in the name of healthy social distancing. I think…a lot. Too much. All of these things are tough.

The gift…there’s always a gift amidst the chaos…I have time to revisit what it means to me to surrender to the God who cares for us all and to trust that no matter what, in the end, everything is going to be OK.

The reminder… I have this moment to celebrate life, because every breath is a celebration. Live it and live it well.

❤️happy Friday loves!

HEALTHY = HEAL + THY + ?

Dear Sis,

Dear Sis (that’s me…dear me)…
 
You are being inundated with unpleasant insights to yourself these last couple of weeks. It’s okay. You are growing so find the value and trust the process.
 
In the meantime, beware of the man who subtly devalues you in the kindest of ways. It might look like this…
 
– “I need someone like you in my life. Nurturing, kind, beautiful eyes and soul. Instead, I always choose the girls who are really hot, into the gym and crazy.” (He sees your beauty and that it’s the kind that matters but you are not going to meet his qualifications…trust this).
 
-“I want more than a hook up. I want a relationship. I want the old fashioned kind of dating where two people become friends and fall in love.” And then…he’s pushing for sex by the end of the night. (and sis, you go right along with it because you think he’s way cool and you want soooooo badly for that empty to be filled. Not gonna get filled for more than a minute….literally. Stop and think).
 
– He is thoughtful, smart, caring and concerned with your wellbeing. He asks how you are and then listens. (for a few weeks). Then, there is no asking how you are. It is sufficient to tell you how awesome he is. Communication quiets and then levels up when it’s getting closer to time for netflix and chill. (This is probably a mirror to how a relationship will work).
 
-“I’m just not good at this part” or “I guess my last relationship hurt me so bad that I’m afraid of…” are usually translatable. Meaning, “I don’t want to put the effort into this friendship/relationship/agreement. I only want my needs met please don’t complicate this with your words. (C’mon, you deserve communication no matter what the agreement is).
 
Sis, listen to words but believe behavior. Please, for the love of God, believe behavior. I know you want connection so badly, but trust God, trust the process and wait for the real good stuff.
 
Know when to walk away….even if he smells scrumptious, delights your mind, intrigues your soul and adored you for a minute.
 
YOU ARE WORTH MORE. TRUST ME.

Sprinkle some more hope in, please

I am learning gobs about myself throughout the process of obtaining a Master’s degree, and especially through this CCI. (It’s a Critical Competency Interview and it’s a BIG deal).
 
1) I tend to freeze or give up right before I reach the point of success. This applies to self-care, eating healthy, mindfulness, my children, dating and so much more….but not to school and not to work. I wonder why that is and what I’ve cost myself with this behavior.
 
I guess I’ll delve into that later but first I will finish this CCI and Family Teen Camp.
 
2) If I am scared I won’t do it right, I would just rather not do it.
So many ways to do this but my favorite is to just pretend it doesn’t exist. (I.E. Make a treatment plan, budget, APA questions that I ‘should’ not struggle with etc) In the end, this doesn’t work out in my favor.
 
3) If doing it requires asking for help, it’s very likely not going to happen. This is especially funny since I always encourage others to remember we are made for relationship and connection, and that we all need to help one another. Lifelong struggle…I’d rather be the helper not the helpee.
 
Additionally, if I have been helped in the ways that have touched my heart deepest,, my deep gratitude carries shame. Shame that I couldn’t do it on my own. Shame that you could see I needed help and gave it without my even asking. Shame that I am in this spot at 46 (almost 47) years old. Feeling needy is so vulnerable to me and I hate it. Yet, you all are part of my heart beat and I don’t think I’d ever have enough words to adequately express my love and gratitude for you.
 
4) I am very impatient in the things that matter. I think (in the moment) that I prefer my own timing over God’s timing. I look back and see clearly that His timing is ALWAYS better so I’m not sure why I am so incredibly hesitant to trust Him now.
 
I settle for what’s given rather than wait for what I pray for, and for what I am worth. Nice in the moment…empty soon after. This applies to food, relationships, self-care, etc) Knowing I view myself so much less than sometimes hurts my heart.
 
5) I really am right where I am supposed to be and I truly do have everything I need in this moment. Still, I can be impulsive, impatient, controlling and self-sabotaging. I’m on this journey…learning, growing, loving and evolving.
 
Hope is a beautiful and a fragile thing.  I need a little more of it sprinkled in my life right now.
 
Happy Thursday, I love you all!

A reckoning

In the moment
his affection will make you feel wanted,
his words will make you feel heard,
his eyes will make you feel seen,
his hand will make you feel held,
but until you are able to see yourself
as made whole by your Savior
and no one else, 
you will constantly go
from moment to moment
and person to person
in search of a Love
that is only ever felt
in the arms of the One
who knows you better than you know yourself,
and loves you more than anyone else.
                                               -Morgan Harper Nichols
Truth…I am a tiny bit jaded and freaked out.
I’ve had some people really hurt me in my dating (loosely used for sure) experiences.  It’s not all their fault, I have made some poor choices and there is  a consequence for everything we create…currently, it’s an emotional state of empty sadness.
I’m reflecting (read: ruminating) on the people I’ve been trying to impress by giving things that don’t belong to them…specifically man people.  Giving beyond depletion. Giving what I didn’t have to give and yearning for more than they were able to give in return. I have erased that fifty billion times and re-written it because I fear being judged or shamed.  So.  Treat with care.  It would be difficult for one  to judge me more harshly than I judge myself anyway.
I desperately want to feel cherished, not rejected.  I want to be understood, seen, accepted and appreciated for who I am.  I want to be held in the arms that embrace me with protection, respect and deep love.  I want to trust wholeheartedly and without fear of the future.
In the case that I never have those things, I accept the arms that are not equipped to keep me safe and the heart that isn’t healed to love me well.
I want to believe the truth…the stroke didn’t break me, the divorce didn’t break me, my childhood didn’t make me broken, my struggling finances and home in need of repair do not define me.  My mistakes are my fertilizer, my life is a miracle that I don’t need to ‘earn’….the list goes on…I want to believe that I am not broken, I am whole.
Because..you see…if I believe the truth that defines me as whole rather than the lie that I am deficient or broken;  perhaps I will stop accepting casual when casual is not what I want.  Perhaps I will seek out those who appreciate my quirkiness and my intelligence.  Perhaps I will seek out someone who thinks the things I consider broken in myself are the same things that make me beautiful.  Perhaps I will cease justifying when someone essentially dumps me on my ass without warning.  Perhaps I will cease my hateful self talk when I tell myself that this one dumped me because I wasn’t as pretty/thin/wealthy/fun/etc as his new focus and when he treats me less than, I will peacefully walk away.  Because…I will believe that I am worth.so.much.more.
Recently, I was awestruck by the picture I have here of Jesus holding the little girl…I looked at this in a moment of tearful frustration. I treasure this picture.  I have felt held like that before…but it seems like a lifetime ago since I felt that connected to God.  Even longer since I did a trust fall with God.
The deepest part of my heart was pinged.  “Sarah, if you want to be loved fully, you have to let me love you fully first.”  So reminiscent of something a dear friend said to me a few months ago but it wasn’t my friends voice I heard.
Why don’t I let God love me like only He can, preferring to keep him always at a slight distance?  I know the why’s…I’ve analyzed this forever but they aren’t nearly as important as what I’m going to choose now.
Going from moment to moment; person to person, in search of this Love I am intensely afraid of never experiencing…there is loneliness.  Not one moment nor one person is filling me up with this love I am longing for.  I get sad at the end of these ‘moments’, especially when I have earnestly cared for someone and honestly believed they were different.  Again, I can’t expect someone to give me something they don’t have.  I guess I can thank them for helping me see that my focus belongs elsewhere.
The embrace I long for is the same embrace I continue to push away.  I want to be fully known.  I want to know that I am fully loved, even though or maybe because I am fully and truly known. It’s maybe my deepest desire within myself.
So here we are, my God and I.  Together we face some unpleasant situations of my own making.  Together, we deal with those things.

Reckoning. Reconciling.  Learning to trust again.