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February is almost over and the highs and lows in my life makes it feel like it’s already June. Something strange is going on with my residual limb so I’m stuck in my wheelchair for 12 weeks with 9 to go…ugh. Keep in mind I always want to be home when I’m out and about but I don’t like not having the option to go when I want to. Since this is not something I have a frame of reference for, I sit here a bit grumpily. Now, I’ve also been accepted in my dream school, in my dream program with ideal conditions for my life; ie..online. Squee!!!I’m so over the top excited I’m afraid to express it; hmm. I know that every step and turn has a purpose, but sometimes I really can’t discern the lesson to be learned. I think I’m figurng this one out.
I actually read completely through the MPN or promisary note for the first installment to my grad school student loan and by the end of it I was rocking like an old lady with her knitting needles. Good God, I’m feeling too old for this kind of “new” beginning debt. If I were just approaching 20 with stars and pixie dust dreams I’d go full speed ahead because I have plenty of time to work it off. I’m 40 years old and based just on the last decade of my life, I feel like each sunshiny day is a miracle, so a mini mountain of debt makes all my timbers shiver. Then it hit me what season I’m in.. .

We  start out fully dependent on people for everything: comfort, food, safety, life. Even as dependent babies we start our fight for independence early; first we want to hold our own bottles, then we want to walk and not be held unless we want it. We start talking so we can express ourselves instead of others talking for us and getting it completely wrong, lol. Independence is ingrained in our DNA and we want every opportunity allotted for us to convey how free of others we are, even free of God sometimes. My first foray into the grad school pool was fully on my own steam. I had the age, finances, recommendations and felt like I needed another letter higher than “A” because my game was on point! Then unexpectedly I stumbled, then tumbled, then fell and now I need the people I didn’t have time for in my pursuit of happiness. I had to learn to be patient as I waited for others to help me and how to self regulate my emotions as I swung from feeling like a burden to feeling helpless and hopeless. I’ll admit that I raged against God asking why was I being punished for what I consedered a minor sin in light of the visuals around me, but it was never a punishment. It took me a LONG time to come to that conclusion. If God were to punish me then poor health would not have been the extent of it, trust me. I had entered into a phase of refinemet. I need purging and purifying. I still do and every now and then it gets a bit toasty in my head as I put my newly learned skills of taking my thoughts captive, leaning on others and believing that I’m worthy of love simply because I am.
There was a time when I fought for my independence, but now I’m fighting to stay dependent…on God. Every step of my life and especially this school experience I pause and ask God is He there. When I need to sign something or commit to something; God are you here? When I get too excited or scared; God do you see this? It’s a fight for dependence because the overwhelming feeling that I’ve got this on my own threatens to flood me with self reliant attitudes that will have me wandering in the wilderness of confusion. Where has your independence taken you? Have you wandered so far from God you don’t even realize that you’re talking and answering yourself? Do a dependence check and fight your way back to Him.

It’s the holiday season and a diabetics’ dream…or nightmare, depends on what side of the stethoscope you’re on. People are making Christmas lists, rushing around to buy gifts for families, critters, I mean kids and that odd co-worker that you pulled in the white elephant gift exchange. We’re surrounded by cookies and cakes, candy and spiced cider, caramel popcorn and sweet coffees; a couple of extra insulin shots are required for sure. Luckily my family has decided to draw names this year and I’m SO grateful! We seem to be expanding every year and the competition is getting stiff. We don’t compete by cost, but the competition is fierce in thoughtfulness. Does your gift make the person cry or laugh, will it make them nostalgic and sentimental; the most responsive reaction wins. I HATE competitions; I slobber all over the place, all the time, like my tear ducts keep wetting their pants. So, we’re required to make a short wish list that everyone will ignore, in hopes of setting people on the right path to your big red reaction button. Woohoo…not. Holidays are bad for me because I eat what I want, when I want, unapologetically. I know good and darn well I have labs the first week in January and my gluttonous, rebellious activities will be available for every doctor on my team to fuss and rebuke me about, as I smile the cheesy smile of the unrepentant and promise to do better…next year.

I don’t know if this holiday season is feeling different because I turned 40 this year or what, but I want something that looks like it can’t be eaten or purchased. My Christmas wish this year is for a heart that sees, truly, that’s it. I want to see people in ways I can assist with encouragement, honesty and transparency. I want to see the low self-esteem beyond the make up and the loneliness behind the gaggle of friends. I want to see the frustration behind the effort and assist in the tries beyond the relinquished dreams. I guess I want to show people that I get it because I have been and I am there now too. There’s a lot of resolution making about cutting off dead weight and negative people out of your life, but do you see the person as human. You do realize that in order to become dead weight, one had to have once been alive. What squelched that light of life right out? I for one want to help reignite those flames. I’m not expecting a roaring fire in the beginning, but a little flicker would let that wounded heart know someone sees it.
That’s my Christmas wish this year, what’s yours?

   Most people recognize the acronym MIA to stand for Missing In Action; it’s a military term. I don’t know if the platoon realizes the person is missing while they’re fighting or if it’s during a mini break to recoup and restrategize, but at some point, someone vital is not where they were anticipated to be. A lot of Christians will acknowledge that spiritual warfare is real and quote a lot of scriptures, half complete, about how to handle the fight. I’ve heard the scripture about Jesus coming to give us life more abundantly because the enemy comes to steal, kill and destroy; hallelujah. That wasn’t sarcasm in case you were wondering. I receive that promise of God, I claim that promise of God and then I inspect my life for that promise of God. What’s missing Jesus?
If, like me, you’ve been in active combat in an area or two of your life you may not have taken the time to recoup and take stock of what’s missing. You’re just so glad you came out of that storm, situation, relationship alive that you forgot the other two verbs in the scripture; I know I did. So, I’m no longer fiercely fighting my health at every turn and I’m no longer in hand to hand combat for my mental health anymore and I’m kind of feeling like bionic woman physically because pain, ha, what pain. I’m unstoppable because I serve an unstoppable God, but I failed to notice what was stolen and what was destroyed. I missed those items that were just as vital to my well-being as the thing I was actively fighting for. Need an example, here we go: watching the divorce rate in the Christian population sample stole my belief in true and lasting love and destroyed my trust in men. Yes, all men because if a “church” man can’t keep it together, then what hope do I have at finding a decent one outside of the church. (This is my thinking, don’t get offended.) Overcoming major, mind blowing illness hiccups has increased my faith, but my confidence that God will continue to deliver me was stolen and my confidence in His plans for my life was destroyed. See how this works?
Is there anything you’ve noticed missing from your life? Maybe joy is gone and it’s a bit harder to celebrate yourself and others. Perhaps peace was destroyed when someone or something entered in and now restlessness plagues you. Whatever your personal inventory has indicated is missing, God has a surplus to give to you; just ask in His name.

Feeling Really Good right Now! Navigating myself into places with No idea how I got there, lol.

https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Robin_D_Alford_When_Happiness_Isn_t_Enough_Journey?id=tAmyDwAAQBAJ

 

Yesterday God told me to do something and I told Him no. I’ll wait while the collective gasps expel, the metaphorical pearls get clutched and all the tongues cluck as I get condemned to hell. Now to continue 🙂
It wasn’t something hard or unreasonable, but it made me Very uncomfortable. I was told to have a conversation with someone. That’s it, no givning my last donut buying dollar away or signing up for a mission across the world, it was simply talk to someone…and I said no. Thankfully my God knows me, so He paused as I poured out how completely unqualified I was for the task and He waited till I said ok. Unsurprisingly, the conversation went well. The words were spiritually and syntactically well placed to be received and both parties left feeling thoughtful and fulfilled. I personally felt humbled that the God of the universe chose to use me out of all the other qualified people (in my perception) and blessed that I could at least plant a seed that may grow into a plant of righteousness somehwere down in the future. That happens a lot you know; when I obey or follow the instructions given to me none of the gloomy endings ever happen. 1 Samuel 15:22, in essence says obedience is better than sacrifice; it’s true. God would rather I have had that conversation than to tack on an extra percentage to my tithe for the month. I’m in a season of getting a deeper understanding of words I’ve heard my entire life, words like grace and righteousness, obedience and honor. Deep words that are all verbs, but no one ever told me what they look like and how to exhibit them. I’m so glad I’m learning now because understanding them is changing the landscape of how I see and relate to God.
I feel comfortable telling God “No” because I know He loves me. I no longer shiver in fear that I’m going to get struck down because I missed a step in whatever ritual I forgot to perform at the right time. My God is such a good Papa that he knows my “No” isn’t an act of defiance, but rather a revelation of how unworthy I’m feeling, still. Do you know your children well enough to distinguish the tone, intent and hidden feelings in their words and actions? Do you know God knows you so well that He knows you better than you know yourself?
Talk to Him, talk with Him and don’t forget to listen; you would be surprised how engaging those conversations can be.

First I was blue, then I turned black
Then I was grandma’s pumpkin and nothing was sweeter, but that didn’t last long
I rediscovered my parents and tried to figure out whose girl I wanted to be, neither chose me
For one I wasn’t smart enough and for the other I wasn’t feminine enough; So I took to the streets for my identity
It turned out I wasn’t hood enough, slim enough, fun enough, light enough, dressed enough, undressed enough or black enough
It appeared my complete sentences and lack of guttural vocabulary marked me as other
My clothes well chosen to fit my slightly round frame, chosen to cover my shame marked me as strange
The lack of control over the skin that you see, the eye that’s not cross but wanders left or right still notices that you don’t see me, the real me
So I return to the church hoping this round will go better than the last, sitting Sunday after Sunday and I can’t help but feel that you still can’t reach me
Jesus walked on water but I can’t swim, does that mean we’ll never meet?
Preaching about hope but never addressing the reasons I can’t cope; saying God is good all the time but never really melding theology with my reality
Opening the altar week after week, but never teaching me why when I get off my knees my issues get off theirs too
I’ve been taught that church is sacred, my job is secular and the way people make me feel is profane, but how can God be on time if He’s only present one third of the time
If this offends you then I guess I’m not as saved as you, but lucky for me, I don’t have to be