Absolutely Sinful

 

I admit to being a "sinner".  I say things I should not say.  I think things I should not think about.  I probably even do things that I shouldn't do.  Boy, it feels good to admit that.  

I attend communion and ask God to forgive me of my sins.  I bow my head and say, "God, I can't promise that I will never sin again, but I can promise that I will try harder."  Of course I say this while sinful thoughts rage through my head.  I suppose that makes me a faltering Christian.  I am guessing that 99.99% of Christians are the same.

I didn't really come here to write about that.  I am not too sure WHY I came here and started pounding on my keyboard.  I just.. felt the urge.

So instead of filling this blog entry with talk of religion and how I fail to be the "perfect" Christian, let's fill this spot up with nonsensical unknown quirks about me. 

 Are you excited?  

I'm not either.

When I was a kid, one of my favorite things to do was to create roads in the dirt and run Matchbox cars on them.  I would spend hours carving out these perfect roads with twists and turns.  I'd build dirt mountains and sand pits.  My bare knees would drag across the ground until they bled as my little hands raced these metal cars as quickly as I could.  

Dirt was my middle name and it still is.

I don't mind getting dirty.  If I am covered in head to toe dirt, I am happy.  It means that I actually did something and accomplished something -- or had a hell of a time trying to accomplish something.

 

I hate sitting around the house.  I'd much rather be doing something -- anything.  I occasionally have days where I find comfort in lazying around, but most times, I'd rather be busy.  It was our intent to stay home after church yesterday, but it was driving me mad.  I dragged hubby to the bowling alley and ended up bowling three kick ass games.  

I take immense pleasure in my surroundings.  I can stare for an eternity at a natural landscape.  There truly is beauty in all that nature has for us.  

I enjoy taking photographs.  I prefer taking photos of scenery over people.  People try too hard to impress the lense.  Nature stands in all its glory and does not -- and will not -- ever make a duck face.   The only time I do enjoy taking photos of humans is if they don't know I have a camera.  Natural, unknowing shots can reveal so much about an individual.  Some of my most favorite shots are those of people who didn't know I was photographing them.  

I prefer moments like now.  I am currently propped up on my bed with four pillows scrunched beneath my head.  My door is locked and the television is off.  The only light in the room right now is the glow of my monitor and the flickering of a small candle.  It's peaceful.  I cannot hear anything except the faint "clacking" of my keyboard as my fingers dance across it.   

I like solitude.  I like quiet.  I like having a space where I can think freely without interruption or hindrance.  Like now.. 

My pup just sighed in his sleep.  He must be content too.

One of the hardest things for me to come to grips with in my life is the inability to... 

Let's leave that one alone.

My favorite movie is Bridges of Madison County.  For various reasons.  I'm a sucker for romance.  The movie makes me weep and wish... 

I am a slut trapped in a lumberjack's body.  Figure that one out, I dare you.

I am obsessed with high heels.  The higher the better.  However, I only wear them during certain times.  

I'm not all innocence and sweetness.  I am far from that.  I am, admittedly, a nice person and will go to the ends of the Earth for another human being, however there is another side of me that isn't shown as much as it used to be.  

I feel like I've gotten soft in my old age.  Old.. ha!  I'm only 45, but there are days when I feel older than that.  I want to be light, free and like I used to be.  I never worried about life and I loved whom I chose to love.  I lived life with wild abandon.  

I long for that again.

I want that again.

I want to jump into a convertible, put the top down and just ride.  Let the wind whip around my hair and let my screams of happiness fill the world.  I will only take one other person with me.  Want to go?

Yeah.. ?

...yeah...

Where Dreams and Reality Collide

He walked up behind me and placed his warm hands upon my shoulders.

He leaned in close to my ear.  I could feel his hot breath flowing over my skin.

He whispered, "I love you."

My breath caught in my throat.  

I couldn't breathe.  

My hand flew to the base of my throat.  My fingers gently squeezed, as if the simple acting of gripping my own throat would help me suck in the air that I desperately needed.  

His hands slowly slipped off of my shoulders.  I felt cold.  I turned to face him.

I could see his brown eyes.  

I couldn't read them.  

I whispered to him softly, so softly that I could barely hear myself.

"I love you too."

He smiled.

"It would never work," he said as the smile left his beautiful face.

I stared at him.

Then I woke up.

Just Breathe

It all has been zooming by at a rapid pace.  I've tried to apply the brakes to slow down, but all I ended up with was blistered heels.  Life has been so hectic lately.  The past two months have been insane.  It seemed that every time I turned around there was something that needed to be done.   In layman's terms, it sucked.  

Well, screw it all to hell and back!  This is what I say!  I'm going to stop and breathe for a long while.  My weekends will be as empty as I can make them.  We need that.  

Every year, we go apple picking in late September and pumpkin picking during October.  We just couldn't find the time to apple pick.  We ended up squeezing it in at the last minute.  This takes away a certain something from the experience.  For pumpkin picking, it is usually a hay ride, letting goats slobber on your hand while feeding them and going through a very cheesy haunted house that, admittedly, makes my heart skip a beat.  I just don't do haunted houses well -- doesn't matter if they are good or terrible.  It still scares me.  I'm a wuss.  But this year, we ended up going to a road side farm stand to pick pumpkins.  There just was no time to do our usual routine.  

This is when I said enough is enough!  

We were scheduled to go camping this past weekend, but couldn't do that either.  Sunday the church had their annual conference, so I had to be there.   I should've gone camping.  I'd much rather have done that.  

Church has been so damn stressful lately.   I have been aching to just say "fuck it" for a couple of weeks and sleep in on Sunday mornings, but I can't.  This coming Sunday, I'm teaching Sunday school and something is going on the following Sunday, but off the top of my head, I can't of what.

Our church is trying to build a larger church, but at the current rate, it isn't going to happen.  Ever.   I feel like I am in a constant battle trying to fight for the church as a whole entity.  Right now, our church is divided into little cliques.  If we cannot pull together and become one unit, there is no way that a new building can be built and, most of all, there is no way that it would succeed.  

I am a member of a committee that helps choose people to fill certain positions.  At a meeting, there was one person put into 8 different positions.  I was like.. whoaaaa.. I just don't think so!  

We have so many other members that would be useful to the church.  The church has to get out of this tunnel vision it's in right now.  We need to all open our eyes and see all of us -- not one or two.  It doesn't work that way.

We have two women that have to hold banners over their heads whenever they do anything.   I am guessing they hold a banner over their heads when they take a shit.  Seriously.   It is creating a very unstable and hostile environment.  People are growing angry, disgusted and fed up.   I don't blame them either.  I, too, am growing irritated.  

If I have learned anything about God, it's that you do things because they are right and just.  You do things with your own hands and feet because it is what Jesus would do.  You do these things without looking for a reward or a pat on the back.  To stand before God and wave a banner about what you've done is inherently wrong.  It goes against all that I have learned and believe in.  

So I fight.  I fight because allowing people to constantly wave banners above their heads is wrong.  Doing things quietly and knowing that God is pleased with what you do is right.  It is just.  

I truly love my church.  My husband says that I probably love it too much, but is there truly such a thing as too much?  I want it to succeed.  I want there to be a feeling of completeness when someone walks through the door.  I want people to feel as though our little church is their second home, as I feel.  It's important.

It's even more important to have a sense of family, and knowing that the people you worship with are there for you.  It is important for every member to feel as important and vital as the next.  It is important for members to leave the church with a heart full of peace.  This is what is important.  This is what we need to accomplish as a church to be able to succeed.  

I will not deny that the work we do as members is important and integral to our survival, but it isn't the sole piece of the puzzle that will hold us afloat.  Families fight for each other.  Families support one another.   This is what will hold us up.  This and our faith.  Our faith will never fail us.  

 

 There has been talk of starting a cub scout pack out of our church.   A close friend of mine from church was talking to me about it on Saturday night.  I broached the subject with our church council chairperson, and it would be allowed.  But I am struggling with it.   I want to but then again, I don't.  I am unsure at the moment.

Lately, I must admit that I have been missing the whole scout thing.  I did it for so long, and I enjoyed it more than I hated it.  I have to confess that.  I am not sure, however, what I exactly miss about it.  I don't know if it was the fact that I was so busy that I didn't have time to think about life.  Hell, sometimes I felt I couldn't breathe.   

I know that I miss the interaction I had with parents and leaders and committee members.  I used to look forward to talking with them at meetings and whatnot.   I only see two of them now.  

I am thinking that it is the interaction I miss.  I can't say that I miss paperwork, phone calls, emails and hair pulling.   So I am not sure if this is something I want to do again.  I have to take some time to think about it some more.  

Whew.. I didn't realize that I had written so much!  Ahh.. and there is so much more that I could have written.  

Perhaps later... 

Frenetic, Frenzied and Feverish

 

USE YOUR BRAIN!

Yeah, I would use mine, if I could just find it.  I don't know where I placed it last.  

So, I was told to write a blog entry.  I am writing.  Can you hear my fingers tapping at my laptop?  Ha!  I can't either!  I have Nine Inch Nail's new album blasting in my ears.  My ear drums are getting one hell of a fucking workout.  

Ooops I dropped the "F" bomb. 

So, this is me, unstripped.  Not literally, mind you.  

Since I do not have one topic floating in the empty space that held the brain that I cannot find, this is going to be one hell of a mess.  It will be like one of my labrador retrievers throwing up that box of crayons she ate.  A mish mash of color all swirled around each other -- not ever truly blending to form one.  

Yeah I like the sound of that.   The colors swirling.  Not the dog vomit.  I can't handle vomit of any kind.  Dog or otherwise.  I can't handle mucus either.  It doesn't matter if it's mine or yours.  I will hurl.  Blech.. 

But I digress... 

I have my blog set to public.  Not that you really care, but I do.  It amazes me how many oddball URLs visit here.  Stupid bots.  

Even though I have my blog set to public, I don't let just anyone see it.  It's mine.   When I post the link on FB, I usually have 3/4 of my "friends" (maybe more than that) blocked from seeing the updated post.  Why?  Because it's mine.  I prefer to be able to write in here freely without condemnation.  Fuck that shit.. 

You've been "F" bombed again.  I should have warned you.

I block my blog from my family.  All of them.   It isn't as though I have something to hide, but everyone on the face of this planet deserves to be an individual.  Everyone.  I don't give a shit if you're married, engaged or jerking off in the alley with pictures of your mom in her underwear.   Everyone.   This is my individual -- not his wife or their mom -- blog.  No, I am not jerking off in the alley while looking at pictures.  I swear.  It wasn't me!   I was rubbing one out in that adult theater.  God, those floors are sticky!  

It just feels good to be me.

If I could be someone else, I would choose...    Hmm.. this is a tough one.  I think I would have to choose, well, me.  Boring, in'nit?  

I LIKE me. 

 Do YOU like YOU?

I went out to dinner with one my closest friends the other night.  I was sick as a dog too, dammit.  I had a great time but it would have been better if I felt better.  I had a dude want to do a threesome with us both.  He was kind enough to tell us that he had been at the doctors and he was told his pipes were working.    He was ready.   The  dude is actually a friend of ours.  He makes me laugh, except when he was trying to feel me up when I kissed him goodbye.  He's such a fucking pervert.

"F" bomb alert!!!  

Awww damn, I'm supposed to warn BEFORE not after.  Duh... 

See?  I have no set thing on my mind today.  So you are the receiver of a bunch of bullshit.  

But at least I posted, right ?

Right ?

:D

 

Practicing Restraint

As my fingers slowly rake across my sheets, I cry out for you.  My moistened lips part and hoarsely whisper your name.  Over and over again until your name is all that my mind sees and comprehends.  Nothing else exists, except the whisper of you against my warm mouth and the coolness of the sheets as my fingers grasp a tight hold on them.   Repeating your name over and over again as my body shakes and releases. 

Can you hear the sound of my whispers echoing through the night?  Can you see them coming toward you?  Can you feel them penetrate your very being?  Can you feel the need and hunger that drips from every hoarse scream and does it create a want inside of you for me?

You should be there -- to see, to feel, to taste and to allow your being to be forever haunted by the essence of who I am when I am wrapped up in you.  I want you to know how my being quivers when you are near.  I want you to close your eyes at night and hear my soft moans and remember what I feel like. 

Remember..

You should be here to allow me to memorize every curve of your body, and to allow my sense to drink in every sight of you.   Let my nose be filled with the scent of your skin, and let my fingers always know how soft your flesh is as they squeeze, stroke and glide across you.   Penetrate my ears with the sounds of your passion.  Let the sounds live inside of me forever, so that every time I close my eyes and touch my body, I think of you. 

I see you and I want to touch you.  I want to sink against you and move with you.   My fingers dig into the soft flesh of the palm of my hands to remind myself to practice restraint.

Practicing restraint. 

My silent cries continue to fill the air.  They drip with want, desire, need and love as my fingers ball up the cool sheets that lie beneath me. 

Alone..

Shivering, sweating, needing, wanting..

Whispers carried with the breeze in hopes that they will once find you. 


 

Find My Way

"Now my path has gone astray
I'm just tryin' to find my way
Wandered here from far away
I'm just tryin' to find my way... "

-- "Find My Way" -- Nine Inch Nails

~~~~

This is what life is about.  This is what my life is about.  It's about trying to find my way through it all.  I'm searching right now for a way.  I am searching for direction.  It seems that every time I feel I've found my path, it changes on me.  Something nudges me to tell me, "No you need to go a different way.  This is wrong."  

So here I go again.  Just trying to find my way.  

Each turn and twist leads me in the same general direction.  Not the exact direction, but the road seemingly veers off slightly to give me a better view of the world around me.  

I, unfortunately, attended another memorial service yesterday.  It was for a woman who spent her life doing what she could to help other people.  It was never about her.  It was about others.  She was a very loving woman with the largest heart.  She was a bit naive, but it only made her more compassionate for her fellow man.  

There is a man that frequents the soup kitchen I volunteer at, and who manages to attend all of the free dinners/lunches I organize.  His name is Harold.  

He stood up at the memorial and walked to the microphone when it was announced that people could come and share their memories of Carol.  His speech was short and to the point.  He said that he missed Carol very much and that he loved her.  He recalled how giving she was and how she allowed him to do odd jobs around her house.  He repeated again how much he missed her and how much he will always love her.  It brought tears to my eyes.  

After the memorial, my husband and I went out to lunch.  We sat discussing the service and how beautiful it was.  I began to think about how I wanted to be remembered.  Morbid thought, perhaps, but... 

I realized that I wanted to be remembered for helping people.  I do not want to be remembered for how much money I had, the car I drove, the house I lived in or the clothes that I wore.  I want to be remembered for grasping the hand of someone in need and doing what I can to help them.  If I can be remembered for that, I had a pretty good life.  

I suppose this weekend was one that was filled with realizations.  

I also realized that a problem I have been struggling with is one that I should not fret over.  I have accepted the fact that it will be with me for a very long time.  I can accept that.  I can live with how I feel.  It is there.  Some days it makes me feel as if I am walking on air, and other days it makes me feel frustrated.  

This will live in my heart forever and it's okay.  It truly is.  It's a reminder that others see me in a different light than I see myself.  It is a reminder that I am alive inside and it reminds me of the depths of the passion that lives inside of me.  It has awaken a part of me that has been asleep for awhile.  

So I will embrace it.  I will hold on to it and feel it when I need to or simply when I want.  I will probably still feel it when I am old and gray, and that is okay.  It is more than okay.  

I accept.

I embrace.

I do those things because it's mine.  

It's how I feel.

It belongs to no one else but me.  

And it's not shared.

Mine.

Back to Basics

I sit here now feeling much relieved that the weekend has come to an end.  To say that it was a busy one would be an understatement.  I am, at this moment, bone tired.  I could literally fall asleep and it's only 7:30pm. 

Saturday was the most awesome day from start to finish.  I cannot complain at all.  One of my favorite pet projects was held Saturday.  It was a free bbq for the community.   My feelings about it are mixed.  I am elated that it went off without a hitch.  I'm thrilled that we served triple the amount of people that we did last year; however, I'm saddened that we did serve that many.  It means that the need is growing in our community instead of shrinking.  

I absolutely love these events.  I work my ass off doing all the planning and shopping, and I am always rewarded at the end.  Most of those that attended came up to me to shake my hand, shoot the breeze and thank me.  I always say that giving isn't a purely selfless act, because it isn't, and this proves it.  Each one that thanked me lifted my heart.  It was awesome to know that I could make a difference in someone's day.  It is awesome to know that the people that volunteered to help serve made a difference.  There is nothing more amazing than pulling people together, working with them and enjoying the benefits of it all.  

While I was there, a lady came up to me and started talking to me.  I noticed that throughout the bbq she was watching me pretty intently.  I didn't pay much attention to it.  She finally came up and said, "I know I have seen you somewhere before."  I asked if she was at the bbq last year and she said yes.  I suggested maybe she remembered me from there, and she didn't think so.  I asked her if she was at the Christmas Day dinner I organize, and she said yes.  I said that maybe she remembers me from there, and she said maybe.

She wandered away for awhile.  I harassed my hubby and his best friend who were grilling food.  I harassed the other volunteers, because I do that so well.  She then came back.  She asked me if I ever volunteered at Interfaith.  (Interfaith is a homeless program.  Homeless people are housed in various churches on a weekly basis.  My church brings and serves dinner to them.  9 times out of 10 it is my family that does this. )  I told her yes, and she said she was in the program a few years ago and she remembered me from there.  

My pastor's wife sums it up best.  She said it's wonderful to give, but there is something about making an impression and having someone remember you.  It made me feel darn good.  I admit it.  

Interfaith was actually where I spent Saturday night.  I zipped off to there right after the bbq.  I had a pretty good time there.  We sat around a table with the ones staying the night and shot the breeze.  I learned a lot about one woman's family.  We spent most of the time comparing notes on our children, complaining about their pain in the ass ways and discussing our desire to have grandchildren.  This wasn't our first meeting.  She was in the program the last time we took dinner to them.   She was supposed to have gotten an apartment, but I am assuming since she's still in the program that the apartment fell through.  I feel bad about that.  She was so excited to finally have her own place.

It's hard to imagine not having somewhere to put down roots.  It has to be hard to not have a bed to lie down on each night -- your own bed in your own home.  I hope that no one I know ever has to experience that.  No one.

After church today we took a ride to a hospital to visit an elderly church member.  She is the bomb!  I love this woman.  She's 93 years old and was full of piss and vinegar.  She loved to smooch on my hubby.  It was funny as hell because he would get so embarrassed.  My nickname for her is "Beautiful".  She is one hell of a beautiful woman -- inside and out.  I adore her.

She fell twice about three weeks ago.  Her husband took her to the hospital and she's been there ever since.  When I saw her today, it filled me with such worry.  She just wasn't the same today.  It's hard to imagine that three weeks time could change someone so rapidly and drastically.  

She was always so sharp and quick witted.  She was always on the go, and nothing could stop her.  Granted she wasn't racing marathons, but she always had energy.  

When I saw her today, she was out of it.  She didn't recognize another person that visited with us.  She just wasn't herself.  It was hard to see her like that.  It is hard to think of her like that.  

She is supposed to come home on Tuesday, but I am not so sure if she is really ready.  She didn't recognize Bob, and she didn't seem to really know where she was.  She was in the rehab portion of the geriatric ward, a.k.a. nursing home part.   She was lost.  

 

Another sad note, I bowled really bad this afternoon.  Oh cry me a river!  We had signed up for a family league at the lanes.  Hubby and my youngest are in second place.  My son and I are in 6th.  Ohhh it's bad, but we have a kick ass time.  It's a bonding thing for us all, I think.  My son, Nick, and I don't get much alone time together.  This was perfect for us.

Happiness, sadness and joy all rolled up into one weekend.  It's no wonder why I'm exhausted right now.  I supposed it doesn't help that I'm pretty sick.  I can't even swallow, and it bites ass.  I believe I heard my doctor's voice scolding me and telling me to go see him tomorrow. 

 

Maybe... 

It's All Shit

Have you ever stood in front of a vast space and wanted to scream?  

Have you ever felt the need to yell at the top of your lungs?

Have you ever wanted your words to be carried by the winds and delivered in far away places, and maybe have them land upon someone who may just care?

Have you ever felt deeply about something, yet had no where to turn to so you could talk about and make sense of it?

I have.

I do right now.

I sit here wishing to talk to someone that would listen and try to understand.  I need someone that can take what I have to say and keep it hidden away in their soul.  I need someone to care about this and understand it's importance to me.  

I need someone to tell me that I am right or wrong.  I need someone to tell me it actually exists.  

I need to vent, to purge, to unload. 

I need to let go so I stop swimming alone.

Melodramatic it seems, doesn't it?

Perhaps, but there truly is nothing worse than not being able to talk about something.  It's as if your entire being will blow apart if it's not shared.  

But it has to be shared with the right person.

Someone who will not judge.  

This is a hard person to find.  

Very hard. 

Behind Bars

I spent the day in an unusual way.  It was, and still is, hot, sticky and humid.  My air conditioner that cools down the main living area is broken, so it meant dealing with the oppressive heat.  I sat curled up on the sofa feeling exhausted from the heat with sweat running down my chest, down the sides of my face and my hot laptop on my thighs.  I desperately wanted to take a nap, but instead decided to keep my mind busy.

 

 I lay my head to the side and aimlessly began to click links -- one after another -- usually ending up at a website that I would not look at normally.  I saw horrible plastic surgery photos, breaching great white sharks (my favorite), interesting and not so interesting Facebook statuses and then I came upon a website that held my attention for a better part of the afternoon.  I stumbled upon a website for prison pen pals.  I am unsure of what drove me there, and I don't even remember the road I traveled to get there.  All I know is that I was there and the site wasn't going to let me go.

I clicked open a profile and began to read it.   

 

He's pretty darn articulate and intelligent.. is what I found myself thinking to myself.   I browsed his photos and thought that he looked like the proverbial boy-next-door.  He had the softest eyes and the kind of smile that makes a person want to smile back. 

I scrolled down to a link which would let me know what crime he was committed of.   I never expected it really.  I am not sure exactly what I expected, if truth be known.  

He was on death row.  He was put there for committing murder.  

I perused probably 100 profiles on that site.  I spent a couple of hours viewing profiles and searching the internet to find articles concerning their crimes/cases.  It was interesting to say the least.   To my surprise, I read extensively about a couple of cases that seemed "fishy" and it seemed that the convicted offender was falsely accused.  

I can't say that I would ever establish a pen pal friendship with any of them.   I probably would not.    I would have a large spot of fear of the "what-ifs".

 

What if he got out of prison early?  Would he come here?  What if he committed many more crimes that he has yet to be accused/convicted of?   

He would have to be on death row with NO hope of appeal, but even then, I would have a hard time interacting with someone that, at one time, had so little regard for another human being's life.  No one should play God. 

 

It was a fascinating way to spend the afternoon though.   While I truly despise hot humid days like today, I am grateful for it, as strange as that may sound.  It gave me some time to kick back and just piss around.  I haven't done that in a long time it seems.  I found out a lot of interesting stuff -- maybe stuff that I will search for more information on.   Maybe not... 

In any case, it's time to hop in the shower, climb into bed in the air conditioned bedroom and go to bed.  Lounging around doing nothing except staring at a computer screen is tiring!  

Please Forgive My Transgressions

 

As I sit here with a light beading of sweat glistening on my forehead, I wish for the smell of dried leaves, the sight of a multitude of colors slowly cascading toward the earth and the sound of crunching as my feet skip across the brittle leaves that scatter the green grass.  I long for a cold, crisp breeze to kiss my skin and tell me that summer is over.  

Fat chance.

I have applications sitting beside me.  There is an opportunity to travel to the southern part of my state to help with repairs that were left in the wake of Hurricane Sandy.  I can either go alone or take a group.  I would truly love to take a group, but it will be rather difficult to get people to join me.  I know of one person that would, and that would be my pastor.   I can also volunteer for a week or for a weekend.  I'd love to go for a week.  There are various churches and organizations that serve as hosts.  They provide you with a cot and a place to put the cot; you provide the sleeping bag, meals, traveling expenses and you also have to donate money toward supplies.   I want to go. 

Going would would serve two purposes for me.  It would satisfy my desire to serve, and it would also give me the chance to cleanse my mind, spirit and soul.  I have had something living inside of me for so long, and my mind tells me to release it.  Is my mind right?  I am not sure, because my heart is currently in the throes of a war with my mind.  

I'm gearing up for one of my favorite activities.  I am in the middle of putting together some finishing touches on a free bbq that my missions group throws every year for people in need.  It is one of my pet projects.   I am quite excited because we have twice as many people as last year signed up.  The weather forecast, so far, is a good for Saturday.  I hope it stays that way!

It's going to be such a busy day on Saturday.   Right after the bbq, I will be taking dinner to the area's homeless.  This is another one of my favorite things to do.  It's a raw reminder of how life could be.   My family spends two hours with them, and if there are children, my youngest son has a blast interacting and playing with them.  I really enjoy it.  It's a great opportunity for anyone, but unfortunately, there aren't many volunteers to do it.  My family has been doing it pretty consistently for the past couple of years.  Instead of offering it up to anyone else, I am usually just given the date and told how many people will be there.  I am always grateful when I am told that I don't have to go -- not because I don't want to go, but because it means that there is no need.  No need is a good thing!

I have a stack of church business to take care of tonight, but am having a hard time getting motivated.  I am not sure why.  I suppose that the heat and humidity is making me somewhat sleepy.  Yes, yes it is.  

There is a misconception that if a person is heavily involved in church, he/she lives a clean, solid, uncomplicated life.  Oh how wrong that is!  

I have two sides of me.  One is the mission-minded, church loving, God fearing person.  The other is a woman that makes mistakes, stumbles and falls and feels things she probably shouldn't.  The first "me" is the one you meet and see.  The second "me" is the one that I keep inside most of the time, but if you look closely into my eyes, you can see "her".

"Mom, what's for dinner?!"

I just heard this shouted across the house.  I suppose it's time to close this up and begin again another day.  

It's a good thing, too.  I almost let my second "me" out, and we don't need none of that.

Not today.

Not here.

 

Never Know

"There's a part of me you'll never know
The only thing I'll never show.."

-Endlessly by Muse 

I found out today that things never change.  It's still there.

Nothing is worse than not being able to say what's on your mind.  Swallowing thoughts continuously makes the throat ache as well as...

If you know, tell me.

 

The Semi-Return To Normalcy

I'm not really sure what "normal" means.  Is there anyone that can truly define that word?  I know that it means usual or average, but average by who's standard?  Mine?  His?  Hers?  

Whatever the case may be, my life has a thin layer of normalcy for the first time in a month.  I am thankful for that.  I need it.  

I'm also thankful for the crush of projects -- new photo church directory, school collection this weekend, Christmas dinner planning(yes already!), choosing people to fill church positions, a free community BBQ and quite a few more projects -- that I have started at church.  They have been occupying my mind to a certain degree and have stolen some time from me.   It would have been time that I would have spent drenched in the thoughts that swirl around in my head. 

The more I do, however, the more I am feeling that I am not truly fulfilling my needs.  My heart and soul lies in mission work.  It is one of the things that truly makes me happy and makes me feel useful.  But there is something missing...

My contentment lies in being totally hands on.  I like getting my hands dirty.  I like serving people.  I like to sweat while doing something that makes a difference to someone.  

So now I am searching for mission trips that our church can take.  My pastor presented one to me and I am itching to do it!   A group of us would pool money together to take a trip to the Appalachians where we would help rebuild homes for people that cannot afford to do it on their own.  The people in this certain area are poorer than poor and need the help.  

This is what I want to do.  I want to travel and help.  I want to be completely hands on.  I want to get dirty and go to bed at night tired.  I want to do this, but... getting people that would be willing to join me and my pastor could prove to be difficult.  

Why?

Well, I have found that there are a kazillion people in this world that are more than willing to donate $5.00 or $25.00 for a cause, and honestly feel they are making a difference.  They are making a difference, but more of a difference can be made by lifting a finger to help.  More of a difference can be made by changing someone's life for the better.  

I have asked countless times over the years for people to help get their hands dirty -- to help serve meals or to spend an hour outside a store for a collection.  I can honestly say that very few have offered up their services and their time.   

They are afraid.

It is easier to donate money.  A person does not have to look into the eyes of one who is hungry.  A person that donates does not have to sit and interact with people who are less fortunate.  A person that donates does not have to listen to stories of a person's downfall, his problems with obtaining medical care or finding a place to live.  

It's easier when the cause you are donating to doesn't have a face that you can look into.

Giving of oneself is incredibly selfish.  There I said it.  It's true.  

People do not understand that giving of oneself can leave them feeling good about themselves.   If a person were to help serve at the BBQ I'm putting together, he/she would leave there feeling like they have done something important.  To lend to that feeling is the words of "thanks" spoken by those that come for a meal.  

Selfishness.  Giving is selfish, but it is a selfish act that can be a gift from Heaven for someone.  

I have a few events coming up.  Saturday is a school supply collection for families that cannot afford school supplies.    In two and a half weeks is a community BBQ.   The third week of November is a food collection.  December 25th is the 3rd Annual Free Community Christmas dinner.  

So.. who wants to volunteer to help?  Who wants to get their hands dirty?  Who is willing to sacrifice an hour or two or three of their time for the benefit of another human being?  Who wants to be selfish with me?

Hard to Swallow

I don't handle death well.  I'm even worse when there has been more than one to contend with, even if I barely knew any of them that passed away.  It's been a rough couple of weeks here, and I've reached my limit.  

Our neighbor's father passed away last week.  This was a sad occasion.  We rather like our neighbors quite a bit.  I made some desserts for the repass, and they were made with a lot of sympathy. 

Sunday we attended a funeral for a family friend who, unfortunately, lost his sister.  He is having a rough time of it, which is understandable.  It wasn't easy looking into his eyes because all you could see was pain.  Pain that you wish you could take away, and pain that you could feel.   When I saw him yesterday, he still had that pain.

Yesterday I learned that a friend of mine passed away in her sleep.  This one is, of course, the hardest one to handle.  I am having a difficult time grasping a hold of it.  I just do not understand.  It will be awhile before I can grasp a hold of some kind of understanding.

There is a circle of us.  It's a tight circle.  I met all of them through church.  The circle formed with our first "hello".  We sit together every Sunday.  In fact, we monopolized the back pews.  You see, if you sit in the back, the pastor can't see what you're doing. 

But we formed a tight circle.  We celebrate each other's birthdays to the max.  We make sure that each one of us feels special, needed and loved on their special day.  We lunch together, call each other and lean on each other when times are tough.   It was the same circle that helped my family get through Hurricane Sandy and its aftermath.  

Bonnie was one of us.  She helped form the circle and held it together.  She was a nurse that worked a lot.  She was always wondering when we were all getting together for another lunch, and it hurts to realize that she will no longer be there for those lunches.  It isn't easy.

She completed the circle.  She was the one with the dry sense of humor and the quiet demeanor.  She was the one from the group that behaved herself during service while the rest of us created havoc around her.  She had a loving heart and a gentle manner about her.  She never complained.  She just accepted and laughed things off. 

I'm having a hard time.  I've cried on and off for the past two days.  I think of her and cry.  I suppose crying is a form of selfishness on my part.  I'm crying for her lack of physical presence when I should be happy she was a part of my world for the past three years.  It's difficult.  Very difficult.

The days ahead will be even more difficult.  I am not looking forward to Sunday and seeing her seat empty.  The seat will always be hers.  I suppose there exists the possibility that she will still attend service to soak up the words of our pastor and to see us screw around; however, it will be quite awhile before we will feel comfortable enough to do that again.

I laid on my bed last night crying.  I was trying to talk through my confusion and my grief with my husband.  It dawned on me just how vital the circle of friends were to my life and to my well-being.  I get so damn much from them.  They aren't just friends.  They are members of my family.  They keep me balanced and sane.  They help me renew my faith when, and if, it wavers.  Their faith and trust in God are stepping stones that guide me toward deepening my relationship with God.  They are also the naughtiest people I've met!
But the circle has a piece missing now.  

It's hard.

It's so fucking hard.

May you rest in peace, Bonnie.  I hope that you realize just how many lives you've touched and how loved you are.  May you be running wild and free in Heaven with God and may you have peace.

Home Again

We returned from our vacation yesterday morning.  I can't say that I enjoyed crossing the threshold and coming back to reality.  I rather enjoyed being in another place without reminders.  It was heavenly. 

The children weren't impressed with the idea of having to come home.  They enjoyed hanging out on the dock and fishing whenever they wanted to.  I must admit that I enjoyed that too. 

There was a sadness that filled us as we took one last look at the home we stayed in.  It was, by all regards, a home from heaven.   It was a lakeside home with everything you'd want in a vacation home.  Everyone had their own space, although we spent most of it sticking together as a family unit.  This is the part that I liked best.  

Being away was what my family needed.  We needed to find some peace, and I believe that we were meant to be there.  We hadn't been on a vacation in ten years.  In fact, my husband and I never had an official honeymoon, and we most certainly, had never gone away as a family.  We never had time nor did we have the funds to finance a trip.  So this trip was extra special for us.

But like I had just stated -- I believe we were meant to be there.  It just felt right.  

We encountered people that were a hell of a lot friendlier than people here.  Everything moved at a slower pace, and at this point in both our lives, my husband and I enjoyed that.  We needed to move slower to stop and appreciate what we have.  We are truly two blessed people.  

The reason for being there just wasn't to show us that it isn't the same all over.  The reason was also to help further cement our relationship and form a tighter familial circle.  We needed to take a look at one another -- kids included -- and be thankful for one another.  I am thankful.

While we were on vacation, we realized that we belonged there.  We truly believe that.  We never felt comfortable living where we do now.  People are different here.  It is an area where the important things are money, wealth, being the "top dog" on society's ladder and it is about material things.  It isn't about simplistic living, believing in God and being true to yourself.  It is about false pretenses, fake personalities and kissing butt to get what you want.   Sure, there are people like that whenever you go, but it's saturated here.  There are so many people here that it's stifling.  It is also disheartening.  

It is also an area where property taxes are high, town laws are utterly ridiculous and rudeness resides.  Real estate values are so overblown here, and we have been at a point in our lives where we've needed to move on.  Our home is small and we need room to grow.  Our children need room to spread their wings and they sure can't do that in this house.  

But with the cost of homes in this area, it just isn't possible to find something bigger and stay here.  We just can't do it.

 So we are going to do it somewhere else.   We have decided to move.  We are going to do it in an area where we can get a home with oodles of space without paying oodles of money.  We can shave down the amount of our property taxes and find some peace.   My hubby could actually retire when he's supposed to.  He could never do that here. 

We need that.  We need peace of mind.  We just need peace.

We have nothing to hold us here anymore.  Our two oldest children do not need us anymore and our relationships with them are not what they used to be.  Our disappearance would not affect them at all, I'm sad to say -- that is a long story that I will not go into here.

So, now we have to do something wonderful for the younger children.  We have to do something for us.  We have spent years of our lives living for the older children.  We didn't do this because of their reaction.  We didn't do that.  We didn't speak about this or that.  Well, I've grown tired of that.  I've grown tired of having my life dictated by the reactions, emotions and feelings of someone else.   

We want to move.  We want to do it now.   We aren't going to let anyone stop us.  Whether they are related to us or not.  

It's about the family in this tiny house right now.  It isn't about anyone else.

It's about finding peace.

It's about walking away from a place and feeling that you'd have a future there.  

We have a future there.  A good one.

Here.. no... 

Now to find a house... 

The Reason

Everything has a reason for existing.  Every event in a life is filled with purpose.  Each little happening imparts a bit of something.  It's up to all of us to figure out the purpose, reason and lesson.

I believe in this.  I believe that there is a reason why I went down that grocery store aisle even though I did not need anything down there.

"Can you help me for a minute, please?  I can't reach the soup on the top shelf," asked an older woman.

Okay, so I am not the tallest person in the world and she probably would have had a much smoother time with someone a bit taller than I, but I did (with lots of stretching) manage to wrap my fingers around the exact box of soup she wanted.

See?  A reason for going down that aisle.  I was meant to help her -- at least I'd like to think so.

I believe that each person we meet is meant to be in our lives.   The weird part is that we never know upon that first meeting just how important some people become to us.  I meet people most times and think... it was nice meeting them but.... 

The "but" is usually spot on, however, there are a few that I've met, never knew the importance in my life they'd become and am thankful they're here.

I met hubby through an online dating site.  My luck in finding someone decent to date was non-existent.  The men I seem to find only wanted one thing, and it was the one thing they wanted immediately after dinner.  Oh the stories I could tell !

When we met for the first time, I didn't know we'd end up married.  In fact, I said very little at our first meeting.  He talked entirely too much -- to the point where I could not get a word in even if I wanted to.  He looked like the biker dude from the Village People, and I was going to just cross him off.  But we see what happened there, eh?

The "family" that I have from church is another example.  I walked into church not knowing a soul.  I sat in the far back of the church when I entered and wasn't sure about the whole thing.  A few members introduced myself and I thought.. "this isn't going to work.."

I've learned plenty about myself through them.  They've been a constant source of care, compassion and understanding.  I truly feel as though they are my family.   I can only hope that they have found a constant source in me, as well.

There have been rare times when I've met someone and instantly knew.  I do not know what I knew, but I knew this person would be important.  To this day, I still do not know how I knew that.

He came out of nowhere it seems.  He came walking into a cub scout event looking for information.  I talked with him briefly, and I began to feel the "knowing".  Someone else began to speak to him and everytime I turned around, I locked eyes with him and I knew.  I just knew that we'd be friends, and he would be very important to me.   He is...

All of these people came into my life for a reason.  Each have given me a piece of the puzzle called "Me".  Each one of them has taught me something about myself and have made me want to become a better person.  They have given me the drive and motivation to dig deeper inside of myself to learn more and to discover my needs and my wants.

They are all meant to be here.. with me.  Every single one of them.

They were placed in my heart for a reason or maybe for reasons.  I am not sure what all of those reasons are, but as I discover what those reasons are, I will enjoy them all as much as I can. 

Yup