Archive for Humility

All The Kings Men

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , on May 25, 2018 by Her Broken Wing

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the king’s horses and all the king’s men
Couldn’t put Humpty together again.

I sometimes think whoever wrote children’s poem suffered  from major depressive disorder. If not, then I can totally relate to this poem anyway. As a matter of fact, I can associate with a lot of the childhood characters I grew up with.

There is Eeyore, OMG, he was sad all over–and was probably clinically depressed. I felt suicidal just watching poor Eeyore. Seriously, something bad must have happened to Eeyore as a child like he ran off a cliff with a bus full of kids or something.

And then there was Charlie Brown. He was dealt with a heavy dose of real life. Charlie Brown demonstrated the struggle, pain and downright misery of childhood. He never received a Valentine’s card. His dog could not remember his name. He was always picked last for the team. Basically, Charlie Brown is a loser.

And last, there was Olive Oil, Popeye’s girlfriend. she had one of cartoon’s first eating disorders. She was an anorexic. She never even ate Popeye’s spinach (unless forced to when she was completely unconscious due to some villain–like many of us with eating disorders will do)

It is no wonder that so many of us are screwed up. Look at the cartoon characters we grew up with. Adults that were most likely crazy (OK clinically diagnosed) wrote the scripts. And thus predisposed us to what would inevitably become our future. No, I’m not saying the cartoons caused this…just saying that our world in which we lived in…

“All the kings horses…” The Doctors, Psychiatrist, Therapist could not put us back together. We became society’s misfits–living in hell within our soul–tormented constantly.

Gloom and doom. Our vision skewed by our depression glossed glasses.

For even on Eeyore’s happiest day (Birthday) he could not muster up a happy sentiment. For maybe, I am not much different. I always wait for the shoe to drop and if it does not, I will perhaps throw the shoe myself.

If it isn’t enough to worry…I worry about tomorrow when today hasn’t even passed. Old Mother Hubbard was so poor her cupboards were bare. What will I do if tomorrow doesn’t provide? Yes, I worry.

And then there is us alcoholics. Homer Simpson. “Beer” the cause of and solution to life’s problems.” He kids that beer is for daddies and kids with fake IDs.  My husband says the difference between alcoholics and drunks…one goes to meetings. I go to meetings. I am an alcoholic, recovering drug addict.

The Lord says, Worry not. Matthew 6:26 “Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?”

I try to believe… to trust… I even pray about it… Mark 9:24 “…I do believe; but please help my unbelief.”

Today, I stumble, I fall and I wait. For the King—Jesus to put me together again.

me

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Sins Of The Mother

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , on April 20, 2018 by Her Broken Wing

Our son graduates from college in two weeks. He will be a Registered  Nurse. (Well, actually after he passes boards.) I,too, am a Registered Nurse.

Unfortunately, I left nursing on less than admirable terms some years ago. I did go back to nursing briefly and it did nurture my soul. But because of  drugs…Eating disorders…and Rehab…as the memories  still haunt me, I fear for my son’s future.

When people find out his career choice, they say “following in your mom’s footsteps?” I cringe. I want to stand on a mountain top and yell out one of Madea’s favorite saying, “Hell. To. The. No’”

Somewhere at the end of my hospital career, I could feel my dignity leave my body, as if a spiritual experience was happening. My reputation had become tarnished. I know I had been a good nurse. I was kind, strong, smart… but…drugs had taken over my wretched body and mind. My weaknesses manifested itself and I was humbled by my insufficiency.

Talk is cheap in our town  everyone knows everything. “Did you hear…?” I would like to have a Mulligan (golf term for a do over.) in life. What would I do different, especially knowing how much I’ve hurt my children?

Why should our son suffer because of my indiscretions. My downfall came at both main hospitals so my biggest fear was that it would tarnish his chances for a future here in our town. I prayed not. He is smart, book smart, street smart and an uncanny wit. (This is what I am told). And he is beautiful. (That I know).

Last week, I found out both hospitals are trying to get him to come and work for them in ICU. Proud momma. So, he is choosing the one that he made an original commitment with. He felt an obligation. He is doing the right thing.  Regardless, this is his journey, his own walk where he has to succeed or fall, he’s on his own, he will skin his knees and get back up. His heavenly Father will always there to pick him up.

Remember, son you is kind, you is smart, you is important! You can do anything. (The movie Help)

living the supernatural

Connie

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Strike Three

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , on February 3, 2018 by Her Broken Wing

Somewhere in the fleeting seconds, he had to make a quick assessment of the situation. “Now,” he wonders. Does he swing at the ball? Or should he wait? (Psalm 46:10)

The game win is on his shoulders. The last play of the game.

He chooses not to wait and it is in the moments that follow, he knows. The swing. The miss. There was a reluctance in this challenge. I saw sorrow in his follow-through as he made what would be his final attempt.

The slight pause was his downfall. The lingering regret.

“Strike three.” The crowd goes crazy.

The sting. The pain as onlookers watch.

He walks slowly away from the base. He is conquered by the opposition.

He relived this play over and over in his head in the days that ensue. “What if I had …?”

What if?

I have asked the same question. “What if I had just…?” If I could just do this over I have often thought.

But it is in these failures, I am forced to climb off my platform of pride.

I have heard it said that sports builds character, but I think it reveals my character more than it builds it.

Someone in the game must lose that others may win.( 1 Peter 2:21-25)

And that is just what Jesus did.

 

Living the Supernatural

Connie

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And I Dream of Who I could Have Been….

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , on August 14, 2011 by Her Broken Wing

 

I don’t make a move unless my friends approve. I have developed a sense of codepency leaving me battling my sense of meaning to my place in the universe. Time taps her hands on my shoulder letting me know she is moving on with or without me. And I start to dream of who I could have been.

In a sense—I am a people pleasing addict too. I want you to like me. Sure– everyone does to some degree but what extent will I go to for you to like me MORE. I have perfectionist genes that rear their ugly little heads making me want to be the best! Better than you.

Where is the humble in that?

Truth is I am trying to please someone who is just as insecure as I am. I manipulate, fold and told the other person until they too meet my needs. I only assume the person feels a certain way about me when it is only my perception anyway. Actuality is I don’t know how they feel. And so The Dance Waltz’s into the night.

Big men and little God–that has become my mentality. I have let the world mold me into a façade of impressions based on what you wanted me to be. Now, I don’t know who I am.

Oh it isn’t your fault. It is mine.

In our AA meetings, life is real. No one tries to impress the other. I realize that we lost just about everything… we have nothing left but the real. We were stripped of the walls that were built to impress you long ago. Now, I don’t have to impress anyone, the group wouldn’t care anyway. They would just call my bluff. It is little men and big God.

Slowly this mentality is trickling over into my life.

I was not given life to become something of the world, but to find out who I am and become that person.

Beautifully Awkward

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The World’s A Stage

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , on September 26, 2010 by Her Broken Wing

“All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,…”

William Shakespeare…

My world is a stage…you…you are but a player on my earth.

I was quick to judge you as you were quick to judge me.

I looked at my own flaws through your eyes. I sought perfection in myself as I did you. But often, you failed me. Repeatedly, I failed you.

Recently, I heard someone say, “I found that if I was not the problem, there was no solution.” I had to drink these words, allowing them to flow lightly over my tongue as I swished them around in my mouth so I could savor the statements reality.

It was up to me (through God) to find serenity–not you.

　

There is a “bit of good in the worst of us and a bit of bad in the best of us ” (from the Big Book of AA) reminding me that we are all flawed and just trying to endure the performance of our life— each day we try-out for a new scenario.

But we are good too.

Survival–life. Maybe more. Abundance? (John 10:10)

But I have come to believe that my addiction is the best thing that could have happened to me. Proving to me that I know very little about what I need and what is in my best interest. So, maybe you judge me by my failures–my addiction. But God judges me by failures and how I rise from the ashes of destruction –”for My ways are not your ways.” (Isaiah 55:8)

Thus, I have learned that all the times I thought I had the world figured out, you figured out and gave you long endearing advice, I really didn’t know what was good for you for I did not even know what was good for me.

So, today I resign from having all the answers.

And whatever is in front of me at the moment, whatever I find peace in at that instant…IS God’s will for my life.

Humbled? Maybe but I am content in living in the background of my stage of existence.

Beautifully Awkward

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The Back Door Friend

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , on May 10, 2010 by Her Broken Wing

There are not too many of us– students of life–that would willingly sign up for Humility 101. As with any degree, we might take biology to become a teacher or numerous anatomy and chemistry classes to become a nurse, and so on. My life as a nurse, counselor, mother, and wife worked for me for a long time.

So signing up for any additional classes was not anything I was looking to do. But somewhere down the road, I must have inadvertently signed up for Humility 101. It took my addiction– thus me graduating with a degree in humility. Oh, I didn’t willingly sign up for these classes –Humble Pie. My addiction came decorated in a pretty package where I only later found the profound ugliness of my arrogance.

So back to the original question, would I have ever signed up for Humility 101?

No, my attendance to Humility 101 was through the back door only by  submission of my unwilling soul as I became truly humble.  As a result, I suffered severe pain from humility through my actions and their consequences. The beginnings of my classes were a smooth, sly, and painstaking process of the disease called — addiction. My dependence came in quietly through the back door. At first, my pill was occasional taken outside of what it was intended for. My drugs became inviting as my neighbor, friendly in a sort. Soon, her visits became more regular. Without realizing what was happening, my friend became a daily visitor. I soon anticipated this visit with great shame. I would justify my use of mommy’s little helpers till the rain had turned to snow and the nights were long and cold. There was no turning back.

One day, I looked out the back door as if waiting for a visit. I had not had a visit from “her” in a day or two so I begin to pace the floor. My family asked if I was OK.  “What are you looking for?” they asked.  I would tell them I was just fine.  But inside my soul, I was screaming. I was frantic. Where are my drugs? No, I was not waiting on an illegal delivery. Usually I was waiting on a call from my dear doctor– who always came through.

Had I come to this?

Yes.

I had now completed Humility 101. I was so humiliated by my actions. There I stood at the back door crying at the lowness of my so-called life. Only there would be no degree here.  No graduation ceremony to stand up for. I will not be sending out invitations. I might as well have been lost on some deserted island. I was so alone. But that was my choice. I did not want to tell anyone. I let no one into my world.

Eventually, I had no choice. I stood up and said, “I have a problem. I am sick.” I hear that is the first step– that we are powerless over our disease. And hand it over to God.

(Psalm 34:18)

Today, when I stand at the back door, I see the beautiful flowers I have planted. I breathe the fresh air God has gifted me with. I turn around and see my family that I am entrusted to.

Humility 101 is not so bad.

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