13 years YEA BABY

What story does your Christmas tree tell?

The whisper of the Tree

From little hands, the gifts of a child. Broken macaroni to broken legged gingerbread men. “To mommy and daddy with love from our child.” This home established in 1994. First Christmas 1984, 1987 or 1995. Gifts from our childrens school years.

Our tree whispers giggles of our children up way too early Christmas morning running to see if Santa ate his cookies or did Santa come. The tree sees and hears everything.

It sees all the love poured into the last minute assembling of a toy as we try to put together in frustration (yes) with love and excitement. Oh to see their face!

It sees the excitement between our own surprise gifts to each other. Wee early mornings in the still darkness of the day.

Yes, our trees tells many stores but if you are in our house embrace the love, listen to the whispers but many stories are sacred to the family.

And yes our tree is dusted off early as we are one of those!!! But after all memories have started!!!

Get ready for another season of memories because of our gifts poured out because of Jesus Christ.

Blessings

In the midst of horrific pain,we, in the darkest part of our souls, try to grasp just a piece of the pain as if to take away their agony. But really we are too scared. What if that were me? We are vulnerable. It is just too dark.

Truly, we cannot take away the pain. It’s too immense of an emotion that no one can even sense what that person really feels.

Oh, we want to do something…anything! But it doesn’t work that way.

We can’t begin to understand even a minuscule of their emotion. Nor do we really want to. To see that kind of pain is just too much and we turn away.

But then it transpires. Courage. Prayer. Love. And most of all, God.

God didn’t do this but we blame him. It just happened. Nonetheless, His shoulders are big enough to handle the sorrow. We don’t know why this took place, this day, this time. But He is the only one that can mend the spirit. Bring us back to a new “normal.” Life has changed course.

Human touch. Slowly but it does happen.

The light in our darkness.

A memory.

Hey guys been awhile!

I have 12 years clean and sober. Life has been a journey. I mean like really.

I still attend AA faithfully. I have worked the 12 steps numerous times (not that i want to)! But i develop resentments as life goes on. people, things, places but mostly people.

Even though I attend AA this has become more of a God thing to work through. (Mark 11:25)

Recently, my doctor told me of all the things i should do to improve my health. I felt cared for. Why is it he can make suggestions but when my spouse does, I blow up in flames? ”They” say don’t sweat the small stuff but I do. And those small things build on top of each other like a skyscraper!

I have one right now. But the more I think about it, it is not him. It is me. He’s a godly man but pisses me off. yes Connie, look in the mirror.

Resentment robs me of my life life’s choices. it really robs me of peace and serenity. When i choose to be free, i can love. A Godly love.

Its all about forgiveness. And that my friends is all about serenity.

Later. ❤️

There was a quiet girl down the street. Average girl. You wouldn’t notice her in a crowd. But in her young age, she was more concerned with the other girls. She tried not to let the sting of being sometimes picked third,forth even last but never first to the team. She was Mediocre at best.

She wasn’t the smartest. She didn’t get awards,scholarships or recognition for any of her works, art or music. She secretly thought it was good.  It just wasn’t to be. She was Mediocre at best.

She wasn’t the prettiest. There was always someone prettier. She felt inferior to her friends that were smarter, cuter. Parties, “I’m sorry you are not invited.” Her body image was less than. She hated who she was and was mad at God that He had not made her special.

To her mediocre meant failure.

She dreamed of a prince rescuing her so that others would see. See that she was special.

At night, her mind would Dance with the stars. She would dream of being special to someone, something.

But she had a dark secret that kept her from being “like the other girls.” One she promised to never tell. One she was too ashamed to tell. Even as a small girl,she knew it was wrong. Was it her fault? But she was so young. So yes, she wasn’t like the other girls. She carried her secret through her life. She had begun to realize she was not special like she once thought. She believed the lies.

As she grew up, the secret grew with her. And she grew less. She learned though by happenstance one evening as she sat off in a corner that there was another world. One drink made her high and for a while she forgot her pain. But she didn’t stop at one. Two, three. And before long she was singing karaoke with the rest and felt like one of them. And the boys … the boys had started talking to her. Finally, she was special. One even said he would take her home. How special she felt. She felt like a princess again, like when she was little…before…,it happened. Even if just a short time, she let him walk her to the door. But then he began to get pushy. He wanted to come in. She said no. But he was stronger than her.

Once again she carried a dark secret deep within her soul. “What is wrong with me?” She begin to self-loathe. She began to not care. She thought God had forgotten her.

But she had found a way to drown out the pain privately where she couldn’t be hurt. Or that is what she thought.

At first, she just drank on weekends. With time, she started drinking a night or two during the week. Eventually, she was drinking everyday. She was having a hard time focusing at work.

Her world had spiraled. She had lost everything. The few friends she had. Her job. Her dignity.

It was then that she walked through the doors.

Me

Her Broken Wing