written July 31, 2017
Interestingly, I didn't think it would hit me the way it has . . . Thankfully, after that day, ten years ago, I just never gave it much thought, but today it suddenly hit like a ton of bricks.
I made the conscious decision to sign a paper that would save another person's life, so I was told . . . but in that signature, I also signed away my hope to ever be loved in this life. At that time, life was not about me, and my expectations had to simply go away. I certainly didn't want to shirk my responsibility, but at that same time, I felt the hope to be loved, simply die. It truly is physically painful, but that day there was a more critical situation for two other people. Oddly, those two other people really didn't even like me much, but they needed me, they needed my signature, and they needed my servitude that would last a lifetime. As a bereaved mother, myself, I knew I didn't want Mr. B's elderly mother to experience that horrific pain, and as I considered the five years I'd been with him, it became very clear that . . . he was afraid to die.
The signature I gave was a surgery consent form for Mr. B. The date on the consent form he'd signed had expired, as his condition had been too grave for surgery. The first night in the hospital, he was placed in a medically induced coma and I was not allowed to stay in his ICU room. He continued to decline. The next day, however; I was in there the entire day and night, except through shift change, in which time I raced home to do chores and return. Having brought and placed my prayer shawl over him, I read Scripture aloud through that night, and by the next morning he was showing improvement, but the sorcery of American science is persistent. I refused to sign the consent form that day, as he simply was not strong enough to withstand such an invasive and lengthy procedure. I told the doctor, he needed another day to gain strength. Well, that didn't set well with Mr. B's family, but nothing I'd done ever had, so I stood by my decision, and the surgeon accepted it. Through that day and night, Mr. B did gain some strength. By four the next morning, the powers that be, brought in the consent form. The surgery would take place about 18 hours later.
Instead of the nice tidy divorce I'd asked for a few months earlier, I was signing on to become his caretaker for life. So many potential surgeries had been mentioned that I carefully went over that consent form with the surgeon and even crossed out a few vague statements of consent, consenting only to the surgery Mr. B had first agreed to, which was a total amputation of his left leg. Necrotizing fasciitis is vicious! Flesh eating bacteria, as it is commonly recognized, wasn't in the headlines back then, as it has been more recently. Through the surgery, they took extra liberty, leaving three more open wounds to include the removal of his birthmark . . . presumed to be infection.
In looking back over the years, Father has blessed me greatly through this. Mr. B kept track of the bandaging, which; according to him, lasted 18 months to the day. He got back to driving in about a year. Daddy extended the back porch to give him access to the publishing bus, and by 2013, Mr. B was gathering eggs. In that time, I had my moments of murmuring and k'vetching . . . and a few meltdowns, requiring repentance; but in that time, I also learned a great deal and received a great many revelations and gifts from our Heavenly Father.
I've learned American religion appears to believe our Creator needs a great deal of human help. Although, in these recent years, I've been blessed with some wonderful friendships, I've also learned to live without needing human appreciation or approval. I've learned the difference between being meek and being a doormat. I've learned to walk in the confidence of Messiah. I've learned, what other's think of me, is none of my business and that I am called to be busy about my Father's business.
I've also received an answer to a prayer I prayed back in 2001. I asked Father if He would please show me His heart . . . He has, to the point I can barely take it. I have come to realize how painful it is to love people and not have that love returned. I've learned how very painful it is to give my absolute best, and have it rebuffed. I've also learned, I probably wouldn't have learned any of this, had it not been for what transpired ten years ago.
Sunday, August 6, 2017
Sunday, July 23, 2017
No Way to Treat a Lady
The stress has reached monumental proportion, as of late, in this divided house. It began last Friday afternoon, as Shabbat was approaching. Let me clarify, in a divided house, there is always a certain level of stress, but this past week . . . Oy Vey! And there has been absolutely no one who would understand, if I tried to share my feelings of disappointment. I've tried to share my concerns of this division with a few, along the way, but Mr. B can be likable. How well I know that . . . I used to like him. At any rate, it's not about a popularity contest, or even being honest or hypocritical with others. It's just become a situation that really can't be discussed with anyone on earth, and that's okay. Our Heavenly Father is well aware of the situation and I can pour my heart out to Him . . . and I do.
The past week was particularly difficult, in that the only time Mr. B spoke to me, was in front of others. So the tension when we are alone is intense and has affected me. This is where I don't sound so good in the story. Father told me a couple of months ago that I resented Mr. B, and I realized I truly did. All of the people who come here are my guests and he takes it upon himself to invade my time and space with people I like. It used to be worse before I began homesteading, in that I was fairly high profile in that town, and he vied for every opportunity to be in the spotlight. I didn't mind that so much, as I really don't care for the spotlight. I do appreciate the fact that he, at least, does have "good guest manners," but the brat in me doesn't want to share my friends with him. Sharing the spotlight was fine, but not my friends. I've gotten to the point in this division that has endured well past a decade, I don't want to share time with him. I do try to find things to appreciate about him, and he has gotten more involved in the maintenance of this homestead, but his involvement at this point just doesn't really touch me in a positive way. That is my fault. I've come to the point in life, I prefer no interaction with him, other than to prepare his meals and do his laundry. Thankfully, ten acres affords us the space to work independently.
Stress is not good for MS, and the regular level of stress that I live with daily in this divided house has taken it's toll, for much longer than the past week. Although I'd like to look Mr. B in the eyes and belt out the words to Helen Reddy's song, This Ain't "No Way to Treat a Lady," I can't. His apathetic expression would only heighten my stress level and my potential response would undoubtedly require repentance. I have to look at the woman in the mirror and repeat that song to myself. Allowing another human being to define me and affect my atmosphere, my health, and my attitude is my problem. It's also very unpleasing to my Heavenly Father, and my responsibility to change - repent. Now here I have to repent and I didn't even say what was bouncing in my head . . .
Royalty establishes the atmosphere and I am a daughter of the King of the universe. What have I been thinking to have allowed this? He's treated me as an afterthought, or worse, since shortly after the marriage. I'm not for a moment suggesting that I should be disrespectful to Mr. B., but the days of me allowing his opinion of me to define me, are over! The days of his resentful attitude controlling the atmosphere of this home have come to an end. Considering the spiritual division between us, now, it only makes sense that we'd have opposing views of everything. It's a well known fact, women are to "create" the environment of the home . . . home and hearth are in the hands of women. That isn't feminism or ERA, it's Proverbs 31. So, as I prepare for Shabbat, I'm preparing meals, scrubbing floors, and straightening my crown.
The past week was particularly difficult, in that the only time Mr. B spoke to me, was in front of others. So the tension when we are alone is intense and has affected me. This is where I don't sound so good in the story. Father told me a couple of months ago that I resented Mr. B, and I realized I truly did. All of the people who come here are my guests and he takes it upon himself to invade my time and space with people I like. It used to be worse before I began homesteading, in that I was fairly high profile in that town, and he vied for every opportunity to be in the spotlight. I didn't mind that so much, as I really don't care for the spotlight. I do appreciate the fact that he, at least, does have "good guest manners," but the brat in me doesn't want to share my friends with him. Sharing the spotlight was fine, but not my friends. I've gotten to the point in this division that has endured well past a decade, I don't want to share time with him. I do try to find things to appreciate about him, and he has gotten more involved in the maintenance of this homestead, but his involvement at this point just doesn't really touch me in a positive way. That is my fault. I've come to the point in life, I prefer no interaction with him, other than to prepare his meals and do his laundry. Thankfully, ten acres affords us the space to work independently.
Stress is not good for MS, and the regular level of stress that I live with daily in this divided house has taken it's toll, for much longer than the past week. Although I'd like to look Mr. B in the eyes and belt out the words to Helen Reddy's song, This Ain't "No Way to Treat a Lady," I can't. His apathetic expression would only heighten my stress level and my potential response would undoubtedly require repentance. I have to look at the woman in the mirror and repeat that song to myself. Allowing another human being to define me and affect my atmosphere, my health, and my attitude is my problem. It's also very unpleasing to my Heavenly Father, and my responsibility to change - repent. Now here I have to repent and I didn't even say what was bouncing in my head . . .
Royalty establishes the atmosphere and I am a daughter of the King of the universe. What have I been thinking to have allowed this? He's treated me as an afterthought, or worse, since shortly after the marriage. I'm not for a moment suggesting that I should be disrespectful to Mr. B., but the days of me allowing his opinion of me to define me, are over! The days of his resentful attitude controlling the atmosphere of this home have come to an end. Considering the spiritual division between us, now, it only makes sense that we'd have opposing views of everything. It's a well known fact, women are to "create" the environment of the home . . . home and hearth are in the hands of women. That isn't feminism or ERA, it's Proverbs 31. So, as I prepare for Shabbat, I'm preparing meals, scrubbing floors, and straightening my crown.
Wednesday, July 5, 2017
In Reflection
Earlier this year, as I was washing the milk bucket and preparing the churn, I noticed my reflection in the kitchen window. After chores, evenings are pretty quiet with plenty of time for contemplation, and so I did just that, as I went about my kitchen duties. The realization that it's taken 59 years to become whom and what I was created to be, nearly overwhelmed me. I felt such gratitude welling up in my spirit as a few specific Scriptures came to my remembrance. The sudden revelation of an answer to a question that has plagued my mind for years became clear in the instant of seeing my reflection. Also in that moment was the memory of my own words spoken from the pulpit on more than one occasion. "Moses was 80 before he even started his ministry, and Noah was 500. Nobody here is too old to be obedient."
From the time I was a child, I felt out of place, and looked forward to being 40. I just knew that was going to be "my year." In all honesty, 40 was the best year I'd ever had up to that point. It was fantastic! I'd been in ministry for about 4 years by that time. At the age of 40, the MS went into remission, I had my first book signing in Barnes & Noble Booksellers, started the "Living Water 9th Street Mission," and received a word of Scripture that I knew was for me, out of the book of Esther. Obviously, Esther 4:14 isn't exclusive to just one individual, but when it was spoken, it definitely rang in my spirit.
As looks go, I'm the Leah in a family of Rachels and Esthers. Well, Leah is inaccurate, as I do get a lot compliments on my eyes, but I always knew I wasn't the pretty sister, and my daughters, nieces, and granddaughters are all very attractive. Regardless of my appearance, I didn't have the confidence to ever "feel" pretty, or smart, or talented, and my weight complex had begun by the age of 3. Folks always assumed I was older than I was, but at 40, my age and appearance seemed rather synchronized. The years since 40 have not been bad, and although I was serving G-d, I still knew I wasn't in the "fullness of my purpose," and none of the years were as good as 40. I'd begun to feel like 40 was just going to be a wonderful memory and be thankful that I'd had one amazing year in life . . . but at 50 my life changed.
The training for homesteading had come to an end, and I was moving to the "big place." The reality that I was legally bound to a non-partner was now a looming bleak fact, and the time honored dysfunction of the family would become a glaring, unrelenting reality. If all this sounds ominous, it was! As it turns out, my full purpose was about to unfold. 2012, in the words of Dickens, "was the best of times, it the worst of times." That year was definitive in nearly every relationship I have. I'm thankful to have made some good memories, but sorry that they are indeed, now, just memories . . . yet I digress.
There have been several Scriptural passages through the years of ministry that have had great meaning of application in my life, but last night, in looking at my reflection, I knew I was created to be a Titus 2:3 woman. We all want to be a Proverbs 31 woman, of course, but my family was grown by the time I entered covenant with Father and I have no control over the way Mr. B feels, so although I am an early riser and self-employed, I just cannot claim the family relationship verses.
I have been blessed to do much of what is listed in Proverbs 31, but I clearly heard Titus 2:3 as I saw the grey haired woman in the kitchen window. I know a number of things of value, especially in the nearly lost arts of simplicity, and I also can offer some trial and error to be avoided. One of the greatest things I've learned in these past few years as an aging woman, is to pray Psalm 141:3, both in managing a healthy diet and dealing with people.
Set a watch, O YHVH, before my mouth; keep the door of my lips.
From the time I was a child, I felt out of place, and looked forward to being 40. I just knew that was going to be "my year." In all honesty, 40 was the best year I'd ever had up to that point. It was fantastic! I'd been in ministry for about 4 years by that time. At the age of 40, the MS went into remission, I had my first book signing in Barnes & Noble Booksellers, started the "Living Water 9th Street Mission," and received a word of Scripture that I knew was for me, out of the book of Esther. Obviously, Esther 4:14 isn't exclusive to just one individual, but when it was spoken, it definitely rang in my spirit.
As looks go, I'm the Leah in a family of Rachels and Esthers. Well, Leah is inaccurate, as I do get a lot compliments on my eyes, but I always knew I wasn't the pretty sister, and my daughters, nieces, and granddaughters are all very attractive. Regardless of my appearance, I didn't have the confidence to ever "feel" pretty, or smart, or talented, and my weight complex had begun by the age of 3. Folks always assumed I was older than I was, but at 40, my age and appearance seemed rather synchronized. The years since 40 have not been bad, and although I was serving G-d, I still knew I wasn't in the "fullness of my purpose," and none of the years were as good as 40. I'd begun to feel like 40 was just going to be a wonderful memory and be thankful that I'd had one amazing year in life . . . but at 50 my life changed.
The training for homesteading had come to an end, and I was moving to the "big place." The reality that I was legally bound to a non-partner was now a looming bleak fact, and the time honored dysfunction of the family would become a glaring, unrelenting reality. If all this sounds ominous, it was! As it turns out, my full purpose was about to unfold. 2012, in the words of Dickens, "was the best of times, it the worst of times." That year was definitive in nearly every relationship I have. I'm thankful to have made some good memories, but sorry that they are indeed, now, just memories . . . yet I digress.
There have been several Scriptural passages through the years of ministry that have had great meaning of application in my life, but last night, in looking at my reflection, I knew I was created to be a Titus 2:3 woman. We all want to be a Proverbs 31 woman, of course, but my family was grown by the time I entered covenant with Father and I have no control over the way Mr. B feels, so although I am an early riser and self-employed, I just cannot claim the family relationship verses.
I have been blessed to do much of what is listed in Proverbs 31, but I clearly heard Titus 2:3 as I saw the grey haired woman in the kitchen window. I know a number of things of value, especially in the nearly lost arts of simplicity, and I also can offer some trial and error to be avoided. One of the greatest things I've learned in these past few years as an aging woman, is to pray Psalm 141:3, both in managing a healthy diet and dealing with people.
Set a watch, O YHVH, before my mouth; keep the door of my lips.
Wednesday, June 21, 2017
A Salvation Issue
A particularly dark time of my life brought me to the point of questioning one of the last of my religious holdings, to the point I feared for my very soul . . . I used to believe that marriage ranked right up there with Sabbath in earthly order. I even believed marriage after divorce was acceptable and according to Torah, it is, but that doesn't mean it will fit the cultural norm of western ideology. It also doesn't mean it's a good idea for everyone! If a man doesn't love a woman enough to protect her, and provide for her, then she must not let him lead her away from Messiah and Father.
Going into this marriage, I just knew YaH had called this marriage to Mr. B., at least I thought He had. Everything was so simple and seemingly perfect, until it WASN'T! And it all happened so quickly. I was sharing with someone recently about my "Woman at the Well" testimony when I said, in a matter of a moment, our whirlwind courtship and marriage, went from "sizzle to fizzle." It wasn't just a tense honeymoon or rocky start, it went from enjoyable times, interesting outings, and late night talks to a living hell, almost instantly. The honeymoon was a matter of endurance . . . Sharing a marital track record with Liz Taylor, I've been on more than my share of honeymoons and this one was shocking! In trying to get settled into married life, the times I left his/our home to drive in tears, back to the Mission were too numerous to count. So the doubting began . . . Did I hear YaH? In the early years through the Torah reading about divorce, I cried and pleaded with him, but . . . he continued to reject me while refusing to grant a divorce. I still had not faced the fact, he simply wasn't interested in actually living what I preached, but rather preferred the appearance before others and the benefits of my blessings . . .
Once the doubting began and the Mission attendance began dropping, the questions in my mind began to multiply. For a time, I was even counting on Mr. B for faith and encouragement. Dark times, indeed! The call to relocate came, and I did know that was from YaH, so I set out in obedience with the hope that either we would get on the same page or he'd back out of the move, while I went on. Neither of those things happened. Well, I was sinking, so I guess there were times we came close to the same page, but I just tried to hang on to YHUH. Actually, YHUH hung on to me, but then it got darker . . . There seemed to be NO light at the end of this dark, dark tunnel. I still hadn't acknowledged the divided house. Why would I? I knew what Scripture had to say about a divided house and here I'm called to blaze a trail and build a homestead! I did continue to repeat to myself Jeremiah 29:11 and Romans 11:29, but John 6:66 and Hebrews 6:6 would also cross my mind on occasion. This went on from March of 2002 until September of 2007. There were times I was terrified that the dark tunnel was actually a bottomless abyss. Through those five and a half years, I wrote three books as well as maintaining my online ministry, and publishing a monthly newsletter; yet on occasion I would still allow the fiery darts of doubt from the enemy, shake my faith to the core.
In September of 2007, following a horrific ordeal with Mr. B's health, I received a phone call from his mother. Interestingly through the time of Mr. B's health crisis and the years of recovery that followed, not once did anyone in his family actually offer to help care for him and visited only once, the next year. There were plenty of phone calls, however; to check on his progress and advise me on his care. Back to her phone call . . . She informed me that I would just have to accept that he and I believed differently and he would do his thing and I could do mine! Now "my thing" was already in place when he and I met,so it was in that instance I realized and accepted that the house was divided. In that instant I was freed from trying to be "one" with him, and knew, the only reason he would not divorce me is that he did not honor Deuteronomy 24. The problem was his rebellion, not my failure. He had rejected me and told me he did not "desire me" as a wife. This was the one marriage, I knew I had definitely given 150% and covered it in prayer. I may not be legally single in this country, but I am spiritually free. I am Mr. B's chef, laundress, and caretaker . . . basically a domestic servant, but nothing more. I'm rockin' this submissive wife deal! I'm not free to have a social life, but I am free to be busy about my Father's business! Considering the gifts Father has given me and the accomplishments He has brought in my life, being associated with me is an ego rush for appearance sake, not to mention "easy street" for Mr. B.
So, now, here it is over fifteen years since that fateful decision and ten years since he became disabled; and so many amazing things have happened in my life. It would be nice if I were a part of a tangible team here, but the reality is, I think it's easier to just "put in my time" on the expected obligations and get on with what I really love. The most important thing, however; is to finally realize the religious browbeating regarding marriage is not in Scripture, nor does it belong in my own thoughts. I am gifted and talented to do many things, but I'm a failure at marriage and I confess that. Even if I'd given up my relationship with YaH and Messiah, Mr. B had already rejected me right after the "I dos." I just can't even imagine the horror of losing my salvation over a sham of a marriage.
How many things in life do we give entirely too much effort and energy, when someone else has already made the decision, that it will make no difference? I truly have been blessed beyond measure in every other area of my life!
But seek ye first the kingdom of Elohim, and His righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you. Matthew 6:33
Going into this marriage, I just knew YaH had called this marriage to Mr. B., at least I thought He had. Everything was so simple and seemingly perfect, until it WASN'T! And it all happened so quickly. I was sharing with someone recently about my "Woman at the Well" testimony when I said, in a matter of a moment, our whirlwind courtship and marriage, went from "sizzle to fizzle." It wasn't just a tense honeymoon or rocky start, it went from enjoyable times, interesting outings, and late night talks to a living hell, almost instantly. The honeymoon was a matter of endurance . . . Sharing a marital track record with Liz Taylor, I've been on more than my share of honeymoons and this one was shocking! In trying to get settled into married life, the times I left his/our home to drive in tears, back to the Mission were too numerous to count. So the doubting began . . . Did I hear YaH? In the early years through the Torah reading about divorce, I cried and pleaded with him, but . . . he continued to reject me while refusing to grant a divorce. I still had not faced the fact, he simply wasn't interested in actually living what I preached, but rather preferred the appearance before others and the benefits of my blessings . . .
Once the doubting began and the Mission attendance began dropping, the questions in my mind began to multiply. For a time, I was even counting on Mr. B for faith and encouragement. Dark times, indeed! The call to relocate came, and I did know that was from YaH, so I set out in obedience with the hope that either we would get on the same page or he'd back out of the move, while I went on. Neither of those things happened. Well, I was sinking, so I guess there were times we came close to the same page, but I just tried to hang on to YHUH. Actually, YHUH hung on to me, but then it got darker . . . There seemed to be NO light at the end of this dark, dark tunnel. I still hadn't acknowledged the divided house. Why would I? I knew what Scripture had to say about a divided house and here I'm called to blaze a trail and build a homestead! I did continue to repeat to myself Jeremiah 29:11 and Romans 11:29, but John 6:66 and Hebrews 6:6 would also cross my mind on occasion. This went on from March of 2002 until September of 2007. There were times I was terrified that the dark tunnel was actually a bottomless abyss. Through those five and a half years, I wrote three books as well as maintaining my online ministry, and publishing a monthly newsletter; yet on occasion I would still allow the fiery darts of doubt from the enemy, shake my faith to the core.
In September of 2007, following a horrific ordeal with Mr. B's health, I received a phone call from his mother. Interestingly through the time of Mr. B's health crisis and the years of recovery that followed, not once did anyone in his family actually offer to help care for him and visited only once, the next year. There were plenty of phone calls, however; to check on his progress and advise me on his care. Back to her phone call . . . She informed me that I would just have to accept that he and I believed differently and he would do his thing and I could do mine! Now "my thing" was already in place when he and I met,so it was in that instance I realized and accepted that the house was divided. In that instant I was freed from trying to be "one" with him, and knew, the only reason he would not divorce me is that he did not honor Deuteronomy 24. The problem was his rebellion, not my failure. He had rejected me and told me he did not "desire me" as a wife. This was the one marriage, I knew I had definitely given 150% and covered it in prayer. I may not be legally single in this country, but I am spiritually free. I am Mr. B's chef, laundress, and caretaker . . . basically a domestic servant, but nothing more. I'm rockin' this submissive wife deal! I'm not free to have a social life, but I am free to be busy about my Father's business! Considering the gifts Father has given me and the accomplishments He has brought in my life, being associated with me is an ego rush for appearance sake, not to mention "easy street" for Mr. B.
So, now, here it is over fifteen years since that fateful decision and ten years since he became disabled; and so many amazing things have happened in my life. It would be nice if I were a part of a tangible team here, but the reality is, I think it's easier to just "put in my time" on the expected obligations and get on with what I really love. The most important thing, however; is to finally realize the religious browbeating regarding marriage is not in Scripture, nor does it belong in my own thoughts. I am gifted and talented to do many things, but I'm a failure at marriage and I confess that. Even if I'd given up my relationship with YaH and Messiah, Mr. B had already rejected me right after the "I dos." I just can't even imagine the horror of losing my salvation over a sham of a marriage.
How many things in life do we give entirely too much effort and energy, when someone else has already made the decision, that it will make no difference? I truly have been blessed beyond measure in every other area of my life!
But seek ye first the kingdom of Elohim, and His righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you. Matthew 6:33
Sunday, September 11, 2016
Another Chance
I somehow knew, deep down, when I declared this year to be the year I would not tolerate intentional disrespect, the tests would come . . . I'm just a little over half way into this declaration and in the beginning, it got down right crazy. People that have barely spoken to me in months, even years, were suddenly in touch. Folks that insisted upon a "parting of the ways" religiously, are back wanting to chat. I'm a bit shocked at my own responses. I haven't hung up on anyone or thrown anyone out, yet . . . but; the very first thing that crosses my mind in these regular occurrences is: 'The clock is ticking on this year. As of now, it's half over! I don't have time for this.'
I've gotten far too old and let too much go, to miss experiencing just one year of not inviting disrespect. I just want a little taste, then I'll go back to the rejection, judgment, rude comments, phone games, and all the stuff that goes along with our current American society, and my status therein. In this particular life, however; I've come to ignore name calling, being categorized and labeled, and generally in dealing with certain situations, I tend to have what I call my "shoulder shrug / eye roll response. I'm developing boundaries when someone insists upon participating in my projects or visits my place. I'm always open to a better idea, and sometimes it simply makes no difference, but I've also come to a place of accepting their choice to be negative and even watch them go away mad. There are things in life that really are disturbing and painful and while I do feel sorry for negative know-it-alls, I don't take their words, personally. I like to think it's maturity and wisdom, but it could just be apathy . . .
Social media has been a good training ground for me. Most of what I consider to be a bit outlandish can just be ignored, which is so much better than situations in person, where they can see my expression. My poker face just isn't what it used to be, but I don't really mind just openly shutting down in front of rudeness, either. I had a dream not long ago, and the participants were becoming a bit agitated, myself included. Since I do have the history of the other individuals storming out when I do something that annoys them; in the dream, I simply asked, very straight faced, if I needed to quietly do those things they find annoying enough to storm out . . . then I awoke.
I'm not, for a moment, kidding myself that I will receive respect from some individuals, and certainly not from those who haven't shown it all these years, but I am adamant about not receiving disrespect, this year. The rude disrespect can wait until next year, or who knows, at the end of this year, those who find me worthy of disrespect may not be speaking at all.
This may sound rather harsh, but I've discovered the joy in not being included. I've come to the place in life in which I really don't regret the absence of "another chance."
I've gotten far too old and let too much go, to miss experiencing just one year of not inviting disrespect. I just want a little taste, then I'll go back to the rejection, judgment, rude comments, phone games, and all the stuff that goes along with our current American society, and my status therein. In this particular life, however; I've come to ignore name calling, being categorized and labeled, and generally in dealing with certain situations, I tend to have what I call my "shoulder shrug / eye roll response. I'm developing boundaries when someone insists upon participating in my projects or visits my place. I'm always open to a better idea, and sometimes it simply makes no difference, but I've also come to a place of accepting their choice to be negative and even watch them go away mad. There are things in life that really are disturbing and painful and while I do feel sorry for negative know-it-alls, I don't take their words, personally. I like to think it's maturity and wisdom, but it could just be apathy . . .
Social media has been a good training ground for me. Most of what I consider to be a bit outlandish can just be ignored, which is so much better than situations in person, where they can see my expression. My poker face just isn't what it used to be, but I don't really mind just openly shutting down in front of rudeness, either. I had a dream not long ago, and the participants were becoming a bit agitated, myself included. Since I do have the history of the other individuals storming out when I do something that annoys them; in the dream, I simply asked, very straight faced, if I needed to quietly do those things they find annoying enough to storm out . . . then I awoke.
I'm not, for a moment, kidding myself that I will receive respect from some individuals, and certainly not from those who haven't shown it all these years, but I am adamant about not receiving disrespect, this year. The rude disrespect can wait until next year, or who knows, at the end of this year, those who find me worthy of disrespect may not be speaking at all.
This may sound rather harsh, but I've discovered the joy in not being included. I've come to the place in life in which I really don't regret the absence of "another chance."
Sunday, May 8, 2016
Acceptance
I'm not by nature, a distrusting soul, but I've learned, trust is not to be handled lightly or given indiscriminately. This isn't about distrusting known liars, as that is just wisdom, but rather the need to accept the fact we all just do not see things the same way. I can't possibly expect someone to make the same decision I would, in a matter in which they don't hold the same view. People make decision based upon their perspective and we don't all share the same perspective. It is wrong to expect someone to make a decision based upon a view or value they do not hold.
I'll use a couple of my personal examples which would be easy to follow into general society. Our health and our finances are two rather large areas in everyone's life. I'm not talking about vanity or the love of money, but simply the management of both, varies dramatically between people, and we do depend upon our bodies and most of us feel the need to pay our bills. It's not a matter of skepticism or cynicism when we do not trust another person or government to manage our health or resources in the same way we do. Realizing they simply have a different way of handling these matters should keep the issue from becoming a wedge, at least among individuals. We cannot burden someone with a decision they cannot make or should not make for another person. Nor should we impose our choices on another . . .
I do not adhere to Big Pharma in any way shape or form. I do not seek medical attention for anything in my life. I would go to a chiropractor or reflexologist if one were available, but no professional in mainstream allopathic medicine and no pharmakeia. Although this is a general statement, and I'm sure there are exceptions, I do not trust nurses, because society has redefined a Scriptural term. Nursing was a Biblical profession, that no longer carries the original meaning. Nurses in Scripture worked for one family or one person for a lifetime. Now nurses work for their employer, often a "care" facility or a pharmaceutical company, a doctor, and always the state that issued their license. The patient is at least third on the list of priorities . . . Clearly a far cry from Deborah in Scripture. Doctors answer to the AMA, insurance, and represent Big Pharma, so I do not feel my best interest is actually their top priority. Now, my stand on this one issue, if I were anyone at all, would be discredited by 98% of our society, including my family. Therefore, I choose to keep my health matters, private.
I carry a copy of health choices in writing in my wallet, just in case some sort of incident took place publicly and I was unconscious or in a situation in which I could not verbalize my wishes. I do not expect everyone or anyone, for that matter, to share my view, but I do expect them to honor my decision for myself. Having been in a situation in which I errantly trusted family, I have since put my choice in writing and would not contact them in case of emergency. I've told Mr. B, in case of severe illness, he is not to notify family until I'm recovering or ready for burial, whichever is the end result. I'm not mad at them for not agreeing with me, I just know that and accept that fact. So my health is my business, between my Heavenly Father and myself, and trusted to no one else.
I also mentioned finances. My parents are quite secretive about their finances and although I don't talk much about my net worth and cash flow, I do share budgeting and saving ideas when asked. My kids are very open about their spending habits and they clearly don't align with my style. I'm not a wealthy woman by this society's standards, but I truly do live quite well with very little expense. I don't have a mortgage. I raise most of my food. My home is all electric and I have a well, so basically I have a monthly internet charge and electric bill. I'm enjoying some benefits of wind and solar energy, so the bill for electricity is actually reduced from what it used to be. I got rid of my television years ago, so there's no cable or satellite bill. My business isn't on the New York Stock Exchange, but it pays for itself. This is another area of life that folks need to realize, may or may not be a trust issue, but each generation handles finances differently and could clearly be interpreted to be a matter of trust in any given situation.
My parents have stated they have some sort of Trust and I guess no one knows what's in it, until after they die, or maybe it's just me that's not in the know . . . For whatever their reasons, they'd rather trust a stranger and that suits me well. This way, any discrepancy or problem will not fall on my shoulders. I'm still a bit ambivalent about what I need to do to get my final affairs in order, but I don't think it will require a Trust Fund. I remember a few years ago when one of my kids was acting like they were going to be a part of this ministry project, but . . . much change just continued to be introduced. I finally looked at her and said, "Shouldn't I be dead before you talk about implementing all this change?" Which, of course, made me realize, without a protege in ministry or Divine Intervention by the Hand of the Almighty, which could include the Second Coming; this place will likely be sold after my death.
So, although I wouldn't trust my health or bank account to be handled the way I do, by anyone I know, it's not a matter of distrust, but just "acceptance."
I'll use a couple of my personal examples which would be easy to follow into general society. Our health and our finances are two rather large areas in everyone's life. I'm not talking about vanity or the love of money, but simply the management of both, varies dramatically between people, and we do depend upon our bodies and most of us feel the need to pay our bills. It's not a matter of skepticism or cynicism when we do not trust another person or government to manage our health or resources in the same way we do. Realizing they simply have a different way of handling these matters should keep the issue from becoming a wedge, at least among individuals. We cannot burden someone with a decision they cannot make or should not make for another person. Nor should we impose our choices on another . . .
I do not adhere to Big Pharma in any way shape or form. I do not seek medical attention for anything in my life. I would go to a chiropractor or reflexologist if one were available, but no professional in mainstream allopathic medicine and no pharmakeia. Although this is a general statement, and I'm sure there are exceptions, I do not trust nurses, because society has redefined a Scriptural term. Nursing was a Biblical profession, that no longer carries the original meaning. Nurses in Scripture worked for one family or one person for a lifetime. Now nurses work for their employer, often a "care" facility or a pharmaceutical company, a doctor, and always the state that issued their license. The patient is at least third on the list of priorities . . . Clearly a far cry from Deborah in Scripture. Doctors answer to the AMA, insurance, and represent Big Pharma, so I do not feel my best interest is actually their top priority. Now, my stand on this one issue, if I were anyone at all, would be discredited by 98% of our society, including my family. Therefore, I choose to keep my health matters, private.
I carry a copy of health choices in writing in my wallet, just in case some sort of incident took place publicly and I was unconscious or in a situation in which I could not verbalize my wishes. I do not expect everyone or anyone, for that matter, to share my view, but I do expect them to honor my decision for myself. Having been in a situation in which I errantly trusted family, I have since put my choice in writing and would not contact them in case of emergency. I've told Mr. B, in case of severe illness, he is not to notify family until I'm recovering or ready for burial, whichever is the end result. I'm not mad at them for not agreeing with me, I just know that and accept that fact. So my health is my business, between my Heavenly Father and myself, and trusted to no one else.
I also mentioned finances. My parents are quite secretive about their finances and although I don't talk much about my net worth and cash flow, I do share budgeting and saving ideas when asked. My kids are very open about their spending habits and they clearly don't align with my style. I'm not a wealthy woman by this society's standards, but I truly do live quite well with very little expense. I don't have a mortgage. I raise most of my food. My home is all electric and I have a well, so basically I have a monthly internet charge and electric bill. I'm enjoying some benefits of wind and solar energy, so the bill for electricity is actually reduced from what it used to be. I got rid of my television years ago, so there's no cable or satellite bill. My business isn't on the New York Stock Exchange, but it pays for itself. This is another area of life that folks need to realize, may or may not be a trust issue, but each generation handles finances differently and could clearly be interpreted to be a matter of trust in any given situation.
My parents have stated they have some sort of Trust and I guess no one knows what's in it, until after they die, or maybe it's just me that's not in the know . . . For whatever their reasons, they'd rather trust a stranger and that suits me well. This way, any discrepancy or problem will not fall on my shoulders. I'm still a bit ambivalent about what I need to do to get my final affairs in order, but I don't think it will require a Trust Fund. I remember a few years ago when one of my kids was acting like they were going to be a part of this ministry project, but . . . much change just continued to be introduced. I finally looked at her and said, "Shouldn't I be dead before you talk about implementing all this change?" Which, of course, made me realize, without a protege in ministry or Divine Intervention by the Hand of the Almighty, which could include the Second Coming; this place will likely be sold after my death.
So, although I wouldn't trust my health or bank account to be handled the way I do, by anyone I know, it's not a matter of distrust, but just "acceptance."
Tuesday, April 12, 2016
When Your Best Just Isn't Good Enough
I'm well aware that I am not the brightest crayon in the box, nor am I drop dead gorgeous, but I am a daughter of the Most High. All my life I felt, if something was lacking, it had to be me . . . and I should try harder, jump higher through the hoops, and meet demanded expectations. I began getting a taste of another kind of living some years back, but it was so foreign to me, it was awkward. Then in 2012, I was faced with compromising my beliefs to meet the demanded expectations. I couldn't do that, regardless of the cost, and the cost was immense! It wasn't just a one time incident, either. The defaming continued until, well, there's just no going back. Actually, the relationship wasn't all that great before, but I learned a valuable reality about myself that has forever changed my perspective. Strained relationships need to be managed, but kept at a reasonable distance, rather than embracing. There's no need to be harsh or unkind, but there's absolutely no reason to keep trying harder.
Since the age of 43, I've learned this in every relationship I've had from marriage, to family, to friendship, to social media; and the discovery has been remarkable. My perspective is just all together different. When I've genuinely tried my level best and prayed for greater understanding; I can just let go and be done. It's not about being angry, it's not about a grudge, it's about accepting the fact that my best just isn't good enough and there is no "trying harder" if you've already given it your best. It's time to shift that "trying harder" energy to acceptance, and I've done that in so many ways these past few years. It's been so freeing and energizing! In accepting the rejection or other's disappointment in these relationships, I've discovered how freeing it can be, and how exhausting it was to try to suit them.
The old saying "you can't miss what you never had" completely fits my new understanding and acceptance. The idea that trying harder will gain acceptance is just an illusion. When one gives up the illusion, it's easy to see you can't miss what you never had.
If one's best isn't good enough for the relationship, it's not really a close relationship, and that's all right. Not every relationship is meant to be close, long term, and great. Some folks just come into our life for a season or for a specific reason. It is unfortunate, however; when the relationship with a spouse, or child, or parent is not so good; but it's not the end of the world! If a spouse tells you they don't find you desirable, but they don't know why; that's not your problem. Take a step back, take another look and you may realize just how mutual that non-desire is. If a grown child, not a teen, because most teens will say it, but if a grown child tells you you're the worst parent in the world, believe them. A good parent wouldn't have raised an adult person that would say such a disrespectful thing. Since the formative years are over, there's no going back and trying again, so just shrug your shoulders and redirect your effort. If a parent has told you, they'll never be proud of you, they probably won't. Don't worry about it. According to Scripture all we are responsible to do is to honor them. So be sure to remember their birthdays and mother and father's day and go on with life.
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