A lot of times when I'm frustrated, I write it all down, re-read it, realize how dumb and childish I'm being and then throw it away.....that way I can't go back later and dwell on it. It is a great technique, almost like talking to a friend that knows every single little thing, because I'm really listening to myself.
Lately I've been writing down my frustrations, re-reading them and having difficulty throwing them away. Sometimes I think 'letting go of the little things' is harder than letting go of larger ones. It's somewhat easy to recognize that I need to let things go in order to move on with life, and I've done so with many things, but sometimes those little mole hills are there and I make them into mountains.
I try very hard not to live in the Land of If Only. I know that if I do I'll only go insane......and my insanity level is pretty much maxed out. I try so hard not to ask all the 'why?!' questions, but sometimes they still get the better of me.
We tend to take it to beyond the bonds of the truth, to the extreme, more and more these days. We seem to dig, dig, dig, that mole hill until we uncover, or find something, to make a mountain out of it. I, for one, have had enough of all the dug up dirt, all the mud slinging, to last me for the rest of my life. I think that if people ask themselves, what is the purpose of making a mountain out of a mole hill? Maybe everyone would have different answers. To exaggerate the truth to an uncomfortable level is to show their own need for acceptance and meaningfulness. Another might say that it would be boring if we didn't promote sensationalism. Is it really all about what people think? Only if you're a politician or TV star.
Truth is, we don't need to exaggerate any truths, the real truth can be hard enough to deal with now days.
Friday, January 7, 2011
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
My Turn
It was very late on the eve of Labour Day when I walked down the steps at the 10th Street Brooklyn Station. I am still trying to remember how I managed to push myself in with a baby on my right hip, shouldering a bag on my left side, and my three small children trailing behind.
At Pennsylvania Street, Rochester, I was preparing to get off at the next station when I realized that just as it was a problem to get on, it would also be a problem to get off. That's when I saw him. He was just standing there, also preparing to get off, but with on a newspaper to care for. He was a little Puetro Rican man, but one who seemed ready to tackle any obstacle that lie before him. He had a long face, but it held kindness and thoughtfulness. He also had dark eyes; sharp, but nice. He gave me a look of concern, but quickly glanced the other way, shaking it off.
As the train entered the station, a white man generously helped me, placing my tired children on the long platform before walking away. When I stepped out, I then remembered the steep concrete stairs leading to the street above. I saw him look my direction with a questioning glance that left as quick as it came. Should I ask for his help, I wondered. Surely he wouldn't refuse, his face was practically begging to be of assistance. He continued to glance at me, quickly turning away when I looked up to meet his gaze.
I had a Puerto Rican friend before, a doll she was, so kind. She was very selfless, always meeting the needs of others before helping herself. "Julianna," she used to say, "Courtesy is a characteristic of my culture. Our motto is 'live and help live'. Always remember that, it is our way of life. If you refuse our help, you are going against the fabric of what we are taught."
As I stood there, badly needing some assistance, I thought about what might be running through his mind. I was sure he wanted to help, but did he think I would gladly accept his offer, or did he assume I was a lady with preconceived prejudices against anyone with a foreign accent, especially in a deserted subway station, hours past midnight?
Perhaps I'd misjudged him. I hesitated a long minute, the conflicts of the values and attitudes of our conflicting cultures were struggling inside me. Should I ask? Then, as though he had never seen me before, he ran down the platform, leaving my children behind me, my bag on my left arm, and my now-sleeping child on my right hip.
I took the steps of the long concrete stairs slowly, all my frustrations flowing out with each slow step. "So, this is what labels and prejudices can do to a world."
My friend had been right when she said everyone had an opportunity to change a life and change the world. I let go of the situation early on Labour Day morning, but the lesson I learned will stay with me forever. I refuse to fall into society's slanderous divisions and choose to remember the wise words of my friend.
Ignorance breeds intolerance, and intolerance breeds hatred. Only when we each take our turn to change these rules will the barriers of racism and division among us begin to come down.
At Pennsylvania Street, Rochester, I was preparing to get off at the next station when I realized that just as it was a problem to get on, it would also be a problem to get off. That's when I saw him. He was just standing there, also preparing to get off, but with on a newspaper to care for. He was a little Puetro Rican man, but one who seemed ready to tackle any obstacle that lie before him. He had a long face, but it held kindness and thoughtfulness. He also had dark eyes; sharp, but nice. He gave me a look of concern, but quickly glanced the other way, shaking it off.
As the train entered the station, a white man generously helped me, placing my tired children on the long platform before walking away. When I stepped out, I then remembered the steep concrete stairs leading to the street above. I saw him look my direction with a questioning glance that left as quick as it came. Should I ask for his help, I wondered. Surely he wouldn't refuse, his face was practically begging to be of assistance. He continued to glance at me, quickly turning away when I looked up to meet his gaze.
I had a Puerto Rican friend before, a doll she was, so kind. She was very selfless, always meeting the needs of others before helping herself. "Julianna," she used to say, "Courtesy is a characteristic of my culture. Our motto is 'live and help live'. Always remember that, it is our way of life. If you refuse our help, you are going against the fabric of what we are taught."
As I stood there, badly needing some assistance, I thought about what might be running through his mind. I was sure he wanted to help, but did he think I would gladly accept his offer, or did he assume I was a lady with preconceived prejudices against anyone with a foreign accent, especially in a deserted subway station, hours past midnight?
Perhaps I'd misjudged him. I hesitated a long minute, the conflicts of the values and attitudes of our conflicting cultures were struggling inside me. Should I ask? Then, as though he had never seen me before, he ran down the platform, leaving my children behind me, my bag on my left arm, and my now-sleeping child on my right hip.
I took the steps of the long concrete stairs slowly, all my frustrations flowing out with each slow step. "So, this is what labels and prejudices can do to a world."
My friend had been right when she said everyone had an opportunity to change a life and change the world. I let go of the situation early on Labour Day morning, but the lesson I learned will stay with me forever. I refuse to fall into society's slanderous divisions and choose to remember the wise words of my friend.
Ignorance breeds intolerance, and intolerance breeds hatred. Only when we each take our turn to change these rules will the barriers of racism and division among us begin to come down.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Wings
When I was young, I spent a lot of time with my Nana. She was very special to me and she always had wonderful and uplifting things to say to everyone. One thing I remember her always saying is, "Michele, you can place roots anywhere, but make sure to keep those wings open." Being young, I never placed much stock in that, but I heard it all the time. It is only now that I am beginning to understand, and appreciate, her words.
The quiet child awaits the day when she can break free of that mold that clings like desperation. I've always been a shell of myself, I've never truly been 'me'. I want to feel, I don't care if I break down. If I fall, I may be bruised, but I'll rise again. I became much too good at being invinsible, then that changed, and I refuse to let life roll over me. I have wings and I want to fly, into a space where I can breathe and look back at this distance I have wandered. After all, I'm supposed to be someone who can face the things I've been running from.
I have huge passion for many things, and I want the power to affect change. My life is my message, the good and the bad. My passion, I believe, is heaven to no one else but me, and I'll defend it as long as I can be left to linger in its silence. Its silence is beautiful.
This is my time, I don't have to fake anything, I can use my wings to be who I am truly meant to be. Gandhi wrote, 'A small body of determined spirits fired by an unquenchable faith in their mission can alter the course of history.' I absolutely love that quote, because I am determined to make a mark on this world. When I die, I want someone to be able to write a book about my life, and I don't want it to be a lie. I've made my mistakes but I'm dusting myself off and stretching out my wings.......I was born to fly.
The quiet child awaits the day when she can break free of that mold that clings like desperation. I've always been a shell of myself, I've never truly been 'me'. I want to feel, I don't care if I break down. If I fall, I may be bruised, but I'll rise again. I became much too good at being invinsible, then that changed, and I refuse to let life roll over me. I have wings and I want to fly, into a space where I can breathe and look back at this distance I have wandered. After all, I'm supposed to be someone who can face the things I've been running from.
I have huge passion for many things, and I want the power to affect change. My life is my message, the good and the bad. My passion, I believe, is heaven to no one else but me, and I'll defend it as long as I can be left to linger in its silence. Its silence is beautiful.
This is my time, I don't have to fake anything, I can use my wings to be who I am truly meant to be. Gandhi wrote, 'A small body of determined spirits fired by an unquenchable faith in their mission can alter the course of history.' I absolutely love that quote, because I am determined to make a mark on this world. When I die, I want someone to be able to write a book about my life, and I don't want it to be a lie. I've made my mistakes but I'm dusting myself off and stretching out my wings.......I was born to fly.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Secrets
It's nothing small to carry around a secret so big. I, of all people, should recognize this. As much as I am the talker, I'm also very quiet when it comes to my own personal life, secrets bottled up for years. But now I'm done being silent, Satan has taken enough from me and I refuse to stand by and watch.
I led a double life as a child. On the outside I was everything I was supposed to be, but on the inside, I was slowly dying. When I was nine years old, an unthinkable act happened to me. To me. I remember always watching Lifetime movies with my Mom and thinking, "Those poor women and children, to endure such tragedy, I don't know how they do it."
It's been 20 years now. Twenty years and I can still smell the fresh cut grass and the heat of the brick against my back. I can smell their sweat and it causes me to gag. I can hear their voices and see the blank expressions on their faces. I can feel my hair being pulled and remember what it's like to choke on my own vomit.
The age old rhyme of 'Secrets, secrets are no fun. Secrets, secrets hurt someone.' rings very true here, however, at the age of nine I would've never guessed how much evil would've rooted itself in my life. It's like a cancer that just spreads, but it stops now.
God has saved my life and He has saved my death, and it's time to start living. It's time to not be afraid of fear anymore and to trust people......and myself. It's nothing very small to carry around secrets so big, trust me.
I led a double life as a child. On the outside I was everything I was supposed to be, but on the inside, I was slowly dying. When I was nine years old, an unthinkable act happened to me. To me. I remember always watching Lifetime movies with my Mom and thinking, "Those poor women and children, to endure such tragedy, I don't know how they do it."
It's been 20 years now. Twenty years and I can still smell the fresh cut grass and the heat of the brick against my back. I can smell their sweat and it causes me to gag. I can hear their voices and see the blank expressions on their faces. I can feel my hair being pulled and remember what it's like to choke on my own vomit.
The age old rhyme of 'Secrets, secrets are no fun. Secrets, secrets hurt someone.' rings very true here, however, at the age of nine I would've never guessed how much evil would've rooted itself in my life. It's like a cancer that just spreads, but it stops now.
God has saved my life and He has saved my death, and it's time to start living. It's time to not be afraid of fear anymore and to trust people......and myself. It's nothing very small to carry around secrets so big, trust me.
Monday, December 6, 2010
Rolemates
When he got home that night I served dinner, stared at the floor and said, "I've got something to tell you." Staring at me intently, I knew he knew what was coming and I wanted to melt into the floor.
Suddenly I didn't know how to open my mouth. But I had to tell him what I was thinking. "I'm leaving, I want to leave." The words flowed out so easily.
"Like really leave, or just go away for awhile?", he asked. "For real, forever", I stated calmly.
This made him angry. Tears coursed down his cheeks as he told me he didn't even know who I'd become. "I second that", I whispered. That night, we didn't talk to each other. He was weeping. I knew he was going over every aspect of our marriage, all the highs and lows. But I could hardly give him a satisfactory answer; he had lost my heart. I didn't love him anymore.
This man who had spent ten years of his life with me had become a stranger. I felt sorry for his wasted time, resources and energy but I could not take back what I said, and in all honesty, I didn't want to. Finally he cried loudly in front of me, which was what I had expected to see. To me this cry was actually a kind of release. The idea of divorce had weighed heavily on my mind for a very long time, and now we were all forced to be okay with it.
In the morning he presented his divorce conditions: he didn't want anything from me, but needed a month's notice before the divorce. He requested that in that one month we both struggle to live as normal a life as possible. His reasons were simple and hardly anything I could argue over: we had two very young daughters and there would need to be a time to cope and sort things out. He also ask that he have full custody, since I would be leaving.
This was agreeable to me, although giving full custody over broke my heart. No judge worth their weight would give sole custody to me, but I still wanted to be their mother. But then he had something more, he asked me to recall how he had carried me to bed for much of our marriage.
Of course I remembered, it was something that started whenever I had a seizure, but carried on through. He requested that every day for the month's duration he would be allowed to carry me to the bed. I thought it was an odd request, however, I conceded in order to make our lives bearable.
My husband and I hadn't had any body contact for a very long time, so when he carried me to rest on the first day, it was very awkward. I closed my eyes and said softly; "Please don't hate me forever." He nodded, feeling somewhat upset.
On the second day, both of us acted much more easily. I leaned on his chest and could barely even feel a heartbeat. I looked up at his face and could read the stress. And while his arms were still strong, he must have lost at least twenty pounds! For a minute I wondered what I had done to him.
On the fourth day, when he lifted me up, he seemed so hurt. This was the man who had given ten years of him life to me. "Perhaps I'm overly committed", he said quietly. I had no response.
On the fifth and sixth day, I realized that over the years we had lost being soulmates and had simply become rolemates, playing a part everyday but not actually taking care of one another.
Wrestling with him and the girls one evening, I was pinned down and I started screaming for him to let me up. Suddenly it hit him. I had so much hurt, resentment and fear buried in my heart that I wasn't a whole person and I certainly didn't have a whole heart to give him. He reached out and just held me.
"I understand, at least as much as I can, " he stated one evening. "I just can't do it anymore, I wish I could, but I don't even know how to love you because I don't even love myself. I give advice like I'm a Pez dispenser, and I need to take my own advice. I need help," I whispered through my tears.
He picked me up and I hadn't noticed that our life lacked every day intimacy. A kiss on the forehead when he came in the door and one at night. Wow, that was all.
"I want to keep my ring, if you don't mind. Even though I don't feel worthy of wearing it, it still means something to me." He looked at me as hurt as could be and said, "I gave you that ring, I don't want it back."
My marriage life was never boring, but rather lonely. Most days we rarely saw each other, me working at the house and caring for our girls; him out working providing for us.
You'd be amazed at the things you accumulate over ten years of life. Cleaning it all out, separating what was mine and his was a difficult and sad task, but it had to be done. After it was all said and done I looked at him and said, "I wish I had something to give you, but I have nothing. You have needs and I've got nothing left to give. My greatest wish through all of this is that we can still be a family, that we can still be friends."
"You have a very delusional view of what a family is. A family is a husband and a wife that love each other and are great parents to their kids," he said firmly.
"A family is what you make of it. We aren't a husband and wife that love each other, but that doesn't mean we can't be good friends and be great parents to those girls," I fired back.
On one of the last nights, we were almost to the bedroom when he said, "I don't hate you, I just love you. Sometimes I think I love you too much."
"I don't believe that to be true, but I don't love you enough, and that is where the problem lies. You hold on so tightly and I am so quick to let go. I don't know any different," I said with a sigh.
"You've never had roots anywhere, you go where the wind blows you. I've been here all of my life and want to stay," he said, stating one of our obvious problems.
"I'm an individual. We may have come together as one, but we are still ourselves. Relationships are like sand you hold in your hand. Held loosely, with an open hand, the sand remains where it is. This is like allowing everyone to be who they really are. The minute you close your hand and squeeze tightly to hold on, the sand falls like rain through your fingers. You may hang on to some of it, but most will spill out. By forcing someone to be who they aren't, you are holding them tightly and they will eventually slip away and be lost. That is like me. I have to be allowed to breathe, to be me. Not just 'me' as a wife and a mother, but me as what God has designed me to be. You're prevential. You'll stay here all of your life and you're okay with that. I'm not. We're so different," I said, sadly.
"Then I hope you find what you're looking for in life," he said, having exhausted all options.
"What I'm looking for first and foremost is to be your friend. Please," I said, with hope in my voice.
"Friends," he asked. "Friends," I stated. He picked me up on our last night and said, "I promise I'll try." Looking up at him I said, "That's all I ask for. Love is an ideal thing, marriage a real thing; a confusion of the real with the ideal never goes unpunished. Thank you for carrying me to bed all these years," I said quietly.
"It's been my pleasure. I wouldn't have it any other way," he said with a smile.
♥Always remember to be friends with your spouse. Love is just love, it's not a fairytale and it can be lost if it's ignored. Most often divorced couples are better friends than married couples. Don't just be rolemates, be soulmates, forever. Go on dates, leave little notes on pillows, speak kind words. But if the day comes that those things don't happen, at least be friends.♥
*Disclaimer - This is a fictional story, this is not what is necessarily going on in my life between Brandon and myself. My apologies for anyone that was confused. This is merely my feelings towards the situation, in fictional form. :)
Suddenly I didn't know how to open my mouth. But I had to tell him what I was thinking. "I'm leaving, I want to leave." The words flowed out so easily.
"Like really leave, or just go away for awhile?", he asked. "For real, forever", I stated calmly.
This made him angry. Tears coursed down his cheeks as he told me he didn't even know who I'd become. "I second that", I whispered. That night, we didn't talk to each other. He was weeping. I knew he was going over every aspect of our marriage, all the highs and lows. But I could hardly give him a satisfactory answer; he had lost my heart. I didn't love him anymore.
This man who had spent ten years of his life with me had become a stranger. I felt sorry for his wasted time, resources and energy but I could not take back what I said, and in all honesty, I didn't want to. Finally he cried loudly in front of me, which was what I had expected to see. To me this cry was actually a kind of release. The idea of divorce had weighed heavily on my mind for a very long time, and now we were all forced to be okay with it.
In the morning he presented his divorce conditions: he didn't want anything from me, but needed a month's notice before the divorce. He requested that in that one month we both struggle to live as normal a life as possible. His reasons were simple and hardly anything I could argue over: we had two very young daughters and there would need to be a time to cope and sort things out. He also ask that he have full custody, since I would be leaving.
This was agreeable to me, although giving full custody over broke my heart. No judge worth their weight would give sole custody to me, but I still wanted to be their mother. But then he had something more, he asked me to recall how he had carried me to bed for much of our marriage.
Of course I remembered, it was something that started whenever I had a seizure, but carried on through. He requested that every day for the month's duration he would be allowed to carry me to the bed. I thought it was an odd request, however, I conceded in order to make our lives bearable.
My husband and I hadn't had any body contact for a very long time, so when he carried me to rest on the first day, it was very awkward. I closed my eyes and said softly; "Please don't hate me forever." He nodded, feeling somewhat upset.
On the second day, both of us acted much more easily. I leaned on his chest and could barely even feel a heartbeat. I looked up at his face and could read the stress. And while his arms were still strong, he must have lost at least twenty pounds! For a minute I wondered what I had done to him.
On the fourth day, when he lifted me up, he seemed so hurt. This was the man who had given ten years of him life to me. "Perhaps I'm overly committed", he said quietly. I had no response.
On the fifth and sixth day, I realized that over the years we had lost being soulmates and had simply become rolemates, playing a part everyday but not actually taking care of one another.
Wrestling with him and the girls one evening, I was pinned down and I started screaming for him to let me up. Suddenly it hit him. I had so much hurt, resentment and fear buried in my heart that I wasn't a whole person and I certainly didn't have a whole heart to give him. He reached out and just held me.
"I understand, at least as much as I can, " he stated one evening. "I just can't do it anymore, I wish I could, but I don't even know how to love you because I don't even love myself. I give advice like I'm a Pez dispenser, and I need to take my own advice. I need help," I whispered through my tears.
He picked me up and I hadn't noticed that our life lacked every day intimacy. A kiss on the forehead when he came in the door and one at night. Wow, that was all.
"I want to keep my ring, if you don't mind. Even though I don't feel worthy of wearing it, it still means something to me." He looked at me as hurt as could be and said, "I gave you that ring, I don't want it back."
My marriage life was never boring, but rather lonely. Most days we rarely saw each other, me working at the house and caring for our girls; him out working providing for us.
You'd be amazed at the things you accumulate over ten years of life. Cleaning it all out, separating what was mine and his was a difficult and sad task, but it had to be done. After it was all said and done I looked at him and said, "I wish I had something to give you, but I have nothing. You have needs and I've got nothing left to give. My greatest wish through all of this is that we can still be a family, that we can still be friends."
"You have a very delusional view of what a family is. A family is a husband and a wife that love each other and are great parents to their kids," he said firmly.
"A family is what you make of it. We aren't a husband and wife that love each other, but that doesn't mean we can't be good friends and be great parents to those girls," I fired back.
On one of the last nights, we were almost to the bedroom when he said, "I don't hate you, I just love you. Sometimes I think I love you too much."
"I don't believe that to be true, but I don't love you enough, and that is where the problem lies. You hold on so tightly and I am so quick to let go. I don't know any different," I said with a sigh.
"You've never had roots anywhere, you go where the wind blows you. I've been here all of my life and want to stay," he said, stating one of our obvious problems.
"I'm an individual. We may have come together as one, but we are still ourselves. Relationships are like sand you hold in your hand. Held loosely, with an open hand, the sand remains where it is. This is like allowing everyone to be who they really are. The minute you close your hand and squeeze tightly to hold on, the sand falls like rain through your fingers. You may hang on to some of it, but most will spill out. By forcing someone to be who they aren't, you are holding them tightly and they will eventually slip away and be lost. That is like me. I have to be allowed to breathe, to be me. Not just 'me' as a wife and a mother, but me as what God has designed me to be. You're prevential. You'll stay here all of your life and you're okay with that. I'm not. We're so different," I said, sadly.
"Then I hope you find what you're looking for in life," he said, having exhausted all options.
"What I'm looking for first and foremost is to be your friend. Please," I said, with hope in my voice.
"Friends," he asked. "Friends," I stated. He picked me up on our last night and said, "I promise I'll try." Looking up at him I said, "That's all I ask for. Love is an ideal thing, marriage a real thing; a confusion of the real with the ideal never goes unpunished. Thank you for carrying me to bed all these years," I said quietly.
"It's been my pleasure. I wouldn't have it any other way," he said with a smile.
♥Always remember to be friends with your spouse. Love is just love, it's not a fairytale and it can be lost if it's ignored. Most often divorced couples are better friends than married couples. Don't just be rolemates, be soulmates, forever. Go on dates, leave little notes on pillows, speak kind words. But if the day comes that those things don't happen, at least be friends.♥
*Disclaimer - This is a fictional story, this is not what is necessarily going on in my life between Brandon and myself. My apologies for anyone that was confused. This is merely my feelings towards the situation, in fictional form. :)
Friday, December 3, 2010
My Grown-Up Christmas List
I have a grown-up Christmas list, however, it doesn't include anything than can truly be wrapped and placed beneath a tree. Most are seemingly unattainable for this world, however, they are my wishes nonetheless.
♥Tolerance
Far too often in this world do we judge someone based on race, religion and creed. In this day and age, we need to practice what we preach, which is the message of God. How are we to fulfill the Great Commission if we don't meet people where they are? We are all human, we all bleed the same, we all feel emotion, we all win and lose, and we are all capable of love. We kill our brothers with malice in our hearts, and most often, we don't truly understand why.
♥Understanding
People do not respect that which they do not understand. This is one of the reasons I enjoy studying theology, so that I can understand people, and even if I do not agree with them, I can still have respect. Everyone has a story and we would all do ourselves a great justice to hush (my own problem!) and listen. Heed the wisdom of those around us and those that have gone before us.
♥Compassion
Compassion is the greatest form of love humans have to offer. My definition of compassion is forgiving, loving, helping, leading and showing mercy for others. We will never know how far a little kindness will go. There is life and death in the tongue, so speak life.
♥Mercy & Grace
Most often these are thought to be the same, however mercy is not getting what you do deserve, while grace is getting what you don't deserve. Mercy is like a judge finding you guilty and then withholding your punishment. Grace is like the same judge awarding you a million dollars after finding you guilty. In Greek as in English, mercy can also be defined as pity or compassion, and in the KJV of the Bible, the word 'love' is often translated into 'mercy'. We get both grace and mercy from Jesus and we should give the same type of grace and mercy to others.
♥Peace
When I think about peace, I automatically think about a beauty pageant contestant stating that they want 'world peace'. Peace comes in all forms, and I mean it in all forms, but most of all one, and that is a personal peace. I think that is something only God can truly give, however, I understand that not everyone will believe in God and I just pray that they have the most perfect peace that they can know under those circumstances. Peace comes from living in the moment and looking for the good in others. Peacefulness comes from facing our fears and letting them go - trusting that things will turn out all right. Peacefulness is also a way of approaching conflict with others so no one is made wrong. Everyone wins because we then work to find a peaceful solution.
♥Love
Ancient Greek text has traditionally distinguished three notions that can properly be called 'love': eros, agape and philia. Respectively they are a passionate love, a Godly love and a brotherly love. We all feel love, we all have love to give. It is a part of each of us and we need to spread it around.
♥Intelligence
I have noticed that far too often are we influenced by the media or by what others tell us. You should never accept second-hand knowledge as the absolute truth, but study it for yourself. You do not have to attend a fancy school or even school at all to be intelligent. Be objective in your learning, take from both sides, even if you disagree. Be open-minded to new ideas. Ignorance breeds intolerance and intolerance breeds hatred.....and we wonder why our world is the way it is.
♥Time
Sometimes it flies and other times it cannot go fast enough. Do we make the moments in our lives, or do the moments in our life make us? Many people die with their music locked in them. Too often it is because they are always getting ready to live and before they know it, time has run out. Do not put off for tomorrow what can be done today. God has given you 86,400 seconds during this day, what will you use them for?
♥Blessings
The biggest thing you can do is step outside of yourself and be a blessing. The most prominent people to us gave up their most sacred things: Mary & Joseph gave up their reputations. God gave up His only Son. Jesus gave up His very life. When you give of yourself you will always be blessed in return. Winston Churchill wrote, 'We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give.' Here are some gift suggestions: To your enemy, forgiveness. To an opponent, tolerance. To a friend, your heart. To a customer, service. To all, charity. To every child, a good example. To yourself, respect.
Blessings to each and every person, I pray everyone has an amazing holiday season.
♥Chele
♥Tolerance
Far too often in this world do we judge someone based on race, religion and creed. In this day and age, we need to practice what we preach, which is the message of God. How are we to fulfill the Great Commission if we don't meet people where they are? We are all human, we all bleed the same, we all feel emotion, we all win and lose, and we are all capable of love. We kill our brothers with malice in our hearts, and most often, we don't truly understand why.
♥Understanding
People do not respect that which they do not understand. This is one of the reasons I enjoy studying theology, so that I can understand people, and even if I do not agree with them, I can still have respect. Everyone has a story and we would all do ourselves a great justice to hush (my own problem!) and listen. Heed the wisdom of those around us and those that have gone before us.
♥Compassion
Compassion is the greatest form of love humans have to offer. My definition of compassion is forgiving, loving, helping, leading and showing mercy for others. We will never know how far a little kindness will go. There is life and death in the tongue, so speak life.
♥Mercy & Grace
Most often these are thought to be the same, however mercy is not getting what you do deserve, while grace is getting what you don't deserve. Mercy is like a judge finding you guilty and then withholding your punishment. Grace is like the same judge awarding you a million dollars after finding you guilty. In Greek as in English, mercy can also be defined as pity or compassion, and in the KJV of the Bible, the word 'love' is often translated into 'mercy'. We get both grace and mercy from Jesus and we should give the same type of grace and mercy to others.
♥Peace
When I think about peace, I automatically think about a beauty pageant contestant stating that they want 'world peace'. Peace comes in all forms, and I mean it in all forms, but most of all one, and that is a personal peace. I think that is something only God can truly give, however, I understand that not everyone will believe in God and I just pray that they have the most perfect peace that they can know under those circumstances. Peace comes from living in the moment and looking for the good in others. Peacefulness comes from facing our fears and letting them go - trusting that things will turn out all right. Peacefulness is also a way of approaching conflict with others so no one is made wrong. Everyone wins because we then work to find a peaceful solution.
♥Love
Ancient Greek text has traditionally distinguished three notions that can properly be called 'love': eros, agape and philia. Respectively they are a passionate love, a Godly love and a brotherly love. We all feel love, we all have love to give. It is a part of each of us and we need to spread it around.
♥Intelligence
I have noticed that far too often are we influenced by the media or by what others tell us. You should never accept second-hand knowledge as the absolute truth, but study it for yourself. You do not have to attend a fancy school or even school at all to be intelligent. Be objective in your learning, take from both sides, even if you disagree. Be open-minded to new ideas. Ignorance breeds intolerance and intolerance breeds hatred.....and we wonder why our world is the way it is.
♥Time
Sometimes it flies and other times it cannot go fast enough. Do we make the moments in our lives, or do the moments in our life make us? Many people die with their music locked in them. Too often it is because they are always getting ready to live and before they know it, time has run out. Do not put off for tomorrow what can be done today. God has given you 86,400 seconds during this day, what will you use them for?
♥Blessings
The biggest thing you can do is step outside of yourself and be a blessing. The most prominent people to us gave up their most sacred things: Mary & Joseph gave up their reputations. God gave up His only Son. Jesus gave up His very life. When you give of yourself you will always be blessed in return. Winston Churchill wrote, 'We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give.' Here are some gift suggestions: To your enemy, forgiveness. To an opponent, tolerance. To a friend, your heart. To a customer, service. To all, charity. To every child, a good example. To yourself, respect.
Blessings to each and every person, I pray everyone has an amazing holiday season.
♥Chele
Friday, November 19, 2010
My Journal
Choices are never easy. I've come to find that if a choice you make comes very easy to you, it's probably not the right one. Most often what you choose is going to be gut-wretching, tear-jerking, and possibly not popular and painful. What is so wrong with being unpopular? What are we all so mortally fearful of? Pray, seek God's will and make the choice He wants you to, no matter the cost. Freedom cost, as does restriction - I suppose it depends on what is more important to you.
♥Chele
I've often heard that people in prison become institutionalized by their walls and fences. I believe that with all of my heart. At first those walls cause fear, anxiety and denial, then they justify your reason for being there. At some point they start to not be so terrible and then they become familiar and almost comforting. This is how I feel in my house, except mine is backwards. Where my walls were once a comfort, they now cause fear. Fear of who I am becoming because of them. I have come to hate them, yet I cannot escape them. Most often a person resents another, but I resent my walls. As grateful as I am that I have them as shelter, they have isolated and institutionalized me.
♥Chele
Aside from God, is truth absolute anymore? It seems that people twist and turn things to fit their needs, as though there is no more black & white, right & wrong, only grey & justification. NOTHING in this life should ever be justified. You are either right or you're wrong, that's it. I've been wrong a great many times in my twenty-nine years, and I've regretted and learned from them all. Is there a truth still absolute? Yes, there are just not that many absolutely truthful people.
♥Chele
Compassion is the greatest form of love that humans have to offer. Treating others with an ounce of compassion isn't difficult. How are you to 'love your neighbour as yourself' if you do not love and respect yourself? People will never know how far a little kindness and mercy could go. Maybe they'll pay it forward and start a chain reaction of the same. The world could use a little more compassion in it. ALL love should be unconditional....but it's not.
♥Chele
I tried to make a bucket list, you know, a list of things to do before you die. I have one from when I was a kid, but I've crossed much off and other things are just not attainable. No biggie, new dreams! :) But I came to find my list was so outrageously long. I was born to stand out, I truly believe that (not arrogantly), and I believe I was born to do a great many things. If I had to name my greatest accomplishment thus far, it'd have to be my girls. I'm not the perfect Mom by any means, but I love them with all that I have. They are my little miracles; babies I was told I'd never have.
♥Chele
I'm so tired of hurting people. No matter what I say and do, someone gets hurt. Most often I feel like I'm standing in the middle of Times Square, screaming and no one even looks up. Every person continues to move, live and breathe as normal. I feel invisible in my own world. People listen, but they don't really hear. They hear what they want, which has caused me to be silent. People try and talk me out of feeling the way I do, but it doesn't work that way. It's no one's fault - I started screaming after my head was under water.
♥Chele
My life is my message. It's been a ride so far, but I've learned a lot and I think others can as well. I want to shine outside the walls of the church - after all, that is where the world waits. I want the power to effect change. To have people listen and hear and take what they need. I want to be used by God. I want to teach tolerance and respect to those who may not ever understand. Make me a servant Lord, humble and meek. May that always be my prayer.
♥Chele
Oftentimes our minds are closed to what God is trying to show and/or tell us. Despite being made in His image, we still think as humans. Abigail was beautiful and intelligent, but she was also humble and had a servant's heart. She was very brave and in learning about her, I was surprised by her honesty. I want to be wise, insightful, a good steward, unselfish, humble, trustworthy, obedient, have humility and good knowledge of the Lord's word. I want to be like Abigail.
♥Chele
♥Chele
I've often heard that people in prison become institutionalized by their walls and fences. I believe that with all of my heart. At first those walls cause fear, anxiety and denial, then they justify your reason for being there. At some point they start to not be so terrible and then they become familiar and almost comforting. This is how I feel in my house, except mine is backwards. Where my walls were once a comfort, they now cause fear. Fear of who I am becoming because of them. I have come to hate them, yet I cannot escape them. Most often a person resents another, but I resent my walls. As grateful as I am that I have them as shelter, they have isolated and institutionalized me.
♥Chele
Aside from God, is truth absolute anymore? It seems that people twist and turn things to fit their needs, as though there is no more black & white, right & wrong, only grey & justification. NOTHING in this life should ever be justified. You are either right or you're wrong, that's it. I've been wrong a great many times in my twenty-nine years, and I've regretted and learned from them all. Is there a truth still absolute? Yes, there are just not that many absolutely truthful people.
♥Chele
Compassion is the greatest form of love that humans have to offer. Treating others with an ounce of compassion isn't difficult. How are you to 'love your neighbour as yourself' if you do not love and respect yourself? People will never know how far a little kindness and mercy could go. Maybe they'll pay it forward and start a chain reaction of the same. The world could use a little more compassion in it. ALL love should be unconditional....but it's not.
♥Chele
I tried to make a bucket list, you know, a list of things to do before you die. I have one from when I was a kid, but I've crossed much off and other things are just not attainable. No biggie, new dreams! :) But I came to find my list was so outrageously long. I was born to stand out, I truly believe that (not arrogantly), and I believe I was born to do a great many things. If I had to name my greatest accomplishment thus far, it'd have to be my girls. I'm not the perfect Mom by any means, but I love them with all that I have. They are my little miracles; babies I was told I'd never have.
♥Chele
I'm so tired of hurting people. No matter what I say and do, someone gets hurt. Most often I feel like I'm standing in the middle of Times Square, screaming and no one even looks up. Every person continues to move, live and breathe as normal. I feel invisible in my own world. People listen, but they don't really hear. They hear what they want, which has caused me to be silent. People try and talk me out of feeling the way I do, but it doesn't work that way. It's no one's fault - I started screaming after my head was under water.
♥Chele
My life is my message. It's been a ride so far, but I've learned a lot and I think others can as well. I want to shine outside the walls of the church - after all, that is where the world waits. I want the power to effect change. To have people listen and hear and take what they need. I want to be used by God. I want to teach tolerance and respect to those who may not ever understand. Make me a servant Lord, humble and meek. May that always be my prayer.
♥Chele
Oftentimes our minds are closed to what God is trying to show and/or tell us. Despite being made in His image, we still think as humans. Abigail was beautiful and intelligent, but she was also humble and had a servant's heart. She was very brave and in learning about her, I was surprised by her honesty. I want to be wise, insightful, a good steward, unselfish, humble, trustworthy, obedient, have humility and good knowledge of the Lord's word. I want to be like Abigail.
♥Chele
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