in the midst of metamorphosis

I desire open, honest, and nonjudgmental communication from all people and all views and all ideas. The words of my posts are simply my own thoughts on how the church* can fully be operational in Love. Suicide. It is all over the news this week. again. And every time, my thoughts are the same : why do we have people around us who are hopeless? We are supposed to carry the very essence of Hope within us, so what are we , The Church, doing wrong? For starters, we are not acknowledging mental illness. I know this firsthand. (You can read about our family's struggle with mental illness and acceptance here ) We question the validity of science, and the exact causes of depression and anxiety. Science is not the enemy here. The enemy is our flagrant stubbornness to recognize the truth of many studies performed by those more qualified than I. We offer our thoughts, opinions, and prayers, and little else in the way of actual help. Do I believe in the healing power of positivity...

Trust. This one word stirs up a whirlwind of emotions within me. What is trust, really? I know the definition but what does it mean to me? I was part of a trust experiment a few years ago in which we were supposed to tell others, “I trust you with my cat. I trust you with my wallet. I trust you with my spouse.” I couldn’t do it. I walked out rather than say those words. It would have been a lie, would have been fake. I refuse to be less than my truth, so my defense mechanism is to just walk  run away. (I am working on that. slowly.) On my way out the door though, I realized just how deep my roots of distrust run. I mean, I love our cat but he is a real jerk and I still  couldn’t trust another to care for him! I have trust issues. I admit that. We, as a society, seem to throw that phrase around as our get out of jail free card.  Can you trust me? No, I have trust issues. We justify our lack of trust by pointing out who and when and how our trust has been betrayed an...

The first time that I remember a shopping "high", I was only a teen. I had had a disagreement with a friend and I was in my feelings - hurt, betrayed, excluded, passed over. I grabbed my newly acquired credit card and headed to the mall where I shopped til I dropped, from one end to the other, feeling better with each passing purchase. I maxed that card out. in one day. in one shopping excursion. but, I felt so good . Like, all the hurt could be hidden behind that new outfit, all the betrayal could be trampled under those new boots, all the exclusion was lost in that sweet new fragrance, and all the feelings of being passed over could be buried in the deep pockets of that new handbag. I was already involved in the drug life. I knew what it felt like to be high from that. and this felt the same. Nothing else mattered in the moment. ~~ I was never a casual drinker when I first started, six years below the legal age. I went straight for the hard liquor, very little chaser....

As I was reading Brene Brown's latest book, Braving The Wilderness , this literally jumped off the page and into my heart. This explained my latest lesson perfectly. Let me rephrase it the way that my brain saw it : If spouses really want their loved one to show up, speak out, take chances, and innovate, we each have to create cultures where the other feels safe - where their belonging is not threatened by speaking out and they are supported when they make the decision to brave the wilderness, stand alone, and speak truth to bullshit.   I want to show up and speak out, with a transparency that begs for a deeper intimacy. I want to take chances and bring new ideas to our relationship that catapults us even higher. I want to be vulnerable and open and speak honestly. And I want all of those things for him as well. When I first met my hubby, I was fresh out of an abusive relationship. Like 3 weeks fresh. I was a walking mess of fear and insecurity. I didn...

About a month ago, I put this*(pic below) on my car because I desire to live in a world where we can all coexist. One where kindness overtakes lack of understanding, where generosity outshines differences, and where love wins the battle against fear and hatred. I have to believe that most all of us want that same world, but what do our words say? our actions? What are we saying to, or about, those who look, act, speak, believe, vote, live, worship differently than we do? How are we treating them? with the same love that we wish to be treated with? with the same respect? Change comes when WE change - our thoughts, our words, our actions - and begin to BE the world of love we wish to live in! This was a post that I put up yesterday on two different social media outlets where I share my heart. I knew that it would be better accepted on one of those (5 times better at this writing), but I'm not one to keep quiet about my truth, even when others disagree. That is the true bea...

Rejection formed a lot of my earliest thoughts about my worth, and it was from that atmosphere that people pleasing was birthed. I didn't know my truth. I simply knew theirs, and adjusted who I was accordingly. I accepted their thoughts, their opinions, their words about who I was, and I swallowed it all, deep within me, until I was all those people. and none of them. an inaccurate representation of who I was created to be. Two years ago, I felt the shift coming. I knew that change was on the horizon, but it was hazy, unclear. Still, I welcomed it with open arms. I journeyed into my known and my unknown, into my remaining masks and my authored identity, into who I thought I should be and who I was created to be. It was here that I quieted all other voices. It was here that I removed all that was hindering my sight. It was here that I shifted my priorities, smashed my idols, surrendered my self, and gave my all, to sink, unhindered, wholly, into Love's heart.  It was compl...

I am a thinker. A lot of thoughts flow in my mind and sometimes they spend an abundance of time drifting around in there. If I don't intentionally examine each one for truth, they will seek out other like-minded mates, binding together for strength and twisting in ways that mask their falsehoods. Unattended to, they will wait at the back of my throat, looking to seep out, giving voice to inaccurate representations of who I am, and worse, who others are. Unfortunately, we seem to hurt the ones we say we love the most, and my hubby has probably been the biggest recipient of these distorted words. I know who I am. I know who he is. And yet, there are times that my wounds have walked in agreement with these flawed thoughts and created counterfeit truths. And then, I have turned these mere thoughts into detrimental words, disintegrating into narrow-minded actions. What previously had no power has now become a powerful force of destruction, a cancerous mass of cells threatening the hea...