I breathe in. I breathe out.
I look over and see a man. A strong man. A sexy man. A broken man. A recovering man. His chest rises, then falls. His nose flares. I notice the stuble on his cheek. (I imagine when he wakes up, asking him to pluck the good ones. He tells me no. I pucker up. He allows me a few in exchange for my happiness.)
God has shown me in ways I don’t have time to tell, how to love better; how to manage my anger; how to show true love and kindness. I’m able to work this out with him. I fail but I give it my all. I love because God loves me.
God is allowing me to love this man through the hardest time of his life. I am showing him love that isn’t always reciprocated right now because I believe in God’s promises and I believe in this man.
I am grateful to his late wife. I appreciate her giving me the gift of raising her son in her honor. I did not know her but I have learned from her son and husband and other family members, who she was. I make sure to talk with his son about his mother often. I listen to stories of her life before Heaven.
Loving a widower can be confusing and painful. There are feelings of never being able to fill the shoes of a Saint, knowing if the wife didn’t die, your relationship wouldn’t exist. The contradiction your heart feels between jealous moments and heartbreak for the survivors can be a lonely place at times. I could live in those moments and be unhappy but I choose to focus on the gift of knowing my man does not know the bitterness of divorce and the complicated ongoing frustrations of raising children in separate homes. He had an in tact marriage that wasn’t perfect but that ended as God intended, till death do us part. It was way too early and painful beyond my imagination but she and he were blessed to have had the marriage they did.
I am where I am today because of their life together. Thank you, B.
If you can’t learn how to react appropriately, is there really a change?
Ponder this for a while.
Communication is our strongest desire and our weakest skill.
Will update later.
Hi. It’s later.
If communication was fully understood at the beginning of any interaction, chaos would be minimal. When I communicate a, b, c, d, I mean those very things. Who I am speaking to can hear something different, or maybe they don’t appreciate the seriousness of your communication.
Did you ponder like I mentioned earlier?
So how do we get someone else to understand our communication? We can’t. We cannot control anyone else. All we can do is work harder at learning to communicate what we feel more appropriately.
Reacting can be a response to when our communication fails.
That’s also something we cannot control in others but we must control ourselves.
If you need to walk away…. Take a breather…. Drive down the road….go to God….. Scream into a pillow….. Do that.
We cannot take reactions back. Once they are out in the universe, that’s it. If you put negative out, you’re responsible for it. You’re responsible for the pain you caused and the scar that comes with it.
I don’t say this to strike fear but for us all to understand the severity of damaging others and ourselves. We are all born as clean slates. Our experiences in this world are written all over us. Don’t be the reason someone else’s slate is shattered.
Protect yourself from instances where your slate will be damaged.
That’s a lot. I know.
This is me. This is my process. I share what I’ve learned as I learn it. TRY to learn it.
Who I am now didn’t happen overnight( and still working on it daily). It wasn’t an easy road. This happened over many situations.
Here I was needing help from the government. Using WIC (women’s infant and children) to supplement a small amount of groceries monthly, discovering that no matter what, I was going to be treated like dirt at the heart of my seeking assistance.
I remember sitting in the office of the local health department after an embarrassing low of asking for assistance to support me and my child. I sat there being looked down on by the worker. She was irritated to be at work. She was irritated that I couldn’t give exact information on his father’s income. She didn’t know I was in my second semester of college and I had made a determination that I was going to be someone someday. This woman acted as if I chose to be there. My choices DEFINITELY landed me here. But I didn’t want this life. For me or my baby. I was trying my best to dig myself out. Everything she did and everything she said to me, she wanted me to know I was wasting her time and so was everyone else she had to deal with in her day. It hurt me. I even called to make a complaint although I know it didn’t go far.
Every few months I had to come in for a redetermination. Every few months I dreaded it. I couldn’t continue to take this.
This day I decided to find my place in this line of work. I decided I would try my best to show people respect no matter the circumstances. I wanted to be a fresh face someone saw when they were at their lowest point.
Fast forward 5 years. I got my degree (by the grace of God) . Then I got another degree (still shouting God’s grace) . Then I faithfully applied to DHR. I got an interview. I got an acceptance letter (Amen) . I accepted the job.
My first day on the job was nerve wrecking. I had worked so hard to get to this place. Here I was. My anxiety was high. The place was new. It was different. I tried my very best to be uplifting and positive. I tried to listen to anything I was told. I got settled into my office. I had an office y’all!!!
I met the woman that was so negative toward me the day I chose my future. She was a kind lady. She was very helpful to me, being that I was “the new girl”. I mentioned that I had needed assistance years ago and remembered her. She didn’t remember me. I felt it was best not to go further with the story.
To this day she is a good Co-worker. We get along well.
She has no idea how she was fuel to my already burning fire to make a change in this life.
God bless me.
I’m sitting in church. My children left for children’s church. I’m completely alone. I am the only one in the pugh. And I’m ever so comfortable. And it’s all because of God and His love for me. I used to have such anxiety because I had a spouse that was miserable to be there. Then it turned into I didn’t have a spouse to hold my hand. How beautiful God is to calm my soul.
God has worked a miracle in my life. I sing the songs to praise His love loud and proud. I sway back and forth. I smile and tap to the beat. I don’t feel an emmense pain in my chest. I feel a glow of God. It beams off me.
God is so good to me.
God has loved me when I am unlovable.
God is working on me daily!!!
I just want a back rub. I want a person’s touch on my body. I want to feel a release of this stress I’m holding so tightly to. I want to cuddle. I want to spoon. I want intimacy. I want comfort. I want security.
But I don’t want it with just anyone. And I don’t want it without God.
I don’t want someone to tell me why I’m doing or not doing something the right way. I want this world to understand something it more than likely never will. I want an understanding of where I am in life and what I’m trying to accomplish.
I’ve heard it before and I will pass it along. Being with no one is so much better than being with the wrong one.
Life is about time. We have all the time but yet our time is always disappearing. I want my time to be appropriate. I want what’s right.
I don’t know what that means right now. But I know I don’t want to move.
God please keep this true to my heart.
My name is Pattie. I am a most grateful believer in MY Jesus Christ.
I struggle with mind chaos that comes from childhood sexual abuse, substance abuse, codependency, anger, procrastination, depression and anxiety.
I lvoe my God.
I come to you today with a heavy heart. A broken soul. A tired mind.
Once again, I don’t understand.
Can life really be this hard? Can there truly be 3 complete sides to a story? Can one of us be so blinded to what is there and the other be just as blinded?
I’m on my knees. I’m begging God.
I want what God wants. I want to make my Heavenly Father proud. I want peace. But I can’t seem to get it. God, show me.
Proverbs 2: 2-4