The Sting of Remorse

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Today I am annoyed. I wish that the behaviors that were acceptable, well not acceptable but tolerable, in the morn would not awaken my queen bee attitude upon my arrival home from work, thus spawning a sudden swarm of caustic discontent, giving me the desire to reach out and sting someone.

These are the days that I fail to see the blessings heaped upon my life and instead only see the coals burning through the time allotted. These are the days when I feel taken advantage of. These are the days of my life on which remorse can feed.

Therefore, these are the days that it is best to retreat, close the door and ignore the horde, before I sting myself with regrets.

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Going Home

imageThis is my hometown, it’s calling, it’s time to go exploring, do the meet and greet, stroll the sidewalks and be seen.

imageThese are my cookies, they’re calling, well not these actually, I refer to the ones I never made, but with cookies there is no such thing as too late, just too little.

imageThere are grandbabies to hug and kiss and cuddle

imageThere are books

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 and books and books to read

image.jpegPuzzles to make

image.jpegand games to play

imageThe grass, I must not forget the grass, that war is not won, yet.

All of this just to say, I have heard the call of outside over there

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And perhaps if I am very very lucky I will be carried away with tidings of great joy, I’ll give it a week, at least.

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The Last Santa

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Well that’s it, the last Christmas morning gift explosion. It seems like a good transition time, it wasn’t planned, it was just a realization that quietly arrived and feels right.

Maybe because my youngest has been accepted to the college of his choosing and we’ll be going away next summer. I am sure he will be coming home, but my experience with the growth that happens that first semester away, makes me know that things will never be the same. I remember standing at the train station to pick up one of my daughters her first visit back, I didn’t recognize her until she said hello, her aura of self confidence glowed so brightly I was blinded.

Also, perhaps it would be good for my grandchildren and my daughter to begin shifting their early morning celebrations into accommodating the exuberance of the young, and not have so many adult aunts and uncles setting the pace. We will miss watching their glee and excitement, and selfishly I really do not want to suggest they party on without me, alas, heavy sigh, que sera sera.

Okay, pity party over, For I am otherwise kind of excited to be entering onto a new era. There are so many options and choices for what to do with the day for celebration. I am not to keen on setting things into stone, creating unchangeable traditions, fluidity is a good thing (really this is just a polite way of saying I am easily bored. I like to do things like move the silverware and dishes around when I put them away just to shake things up a bit, which is just another polite way of saying I am annoying) anyway, the last few years we have gone to Foo-Chow for Christmas dinner, it has been fun, and gets everyone out of their pajamas, which was a tradition I was bored with, and then there is my favorite part of going out, no dishes, however I am not stuck on it, and perhaps now that there will not be Christmas morning to prepare for I can come up with some new ideas.

  • Maybe a birthday party for Jesus with all the trimming and games, and definitely a piñata.
  • How about a formal dinner with ballroom dancing.
  • A scavenger hunt.
  • A costume party
  • Trying out a different country’s way of celebration would be exciting, the foods, traditions and gifts.

I can’t wait, but this does mean I cannot do my traditional Amazon Christmas shopping and planning on the 22nd of December. I will have to start sooner, but this is more of a very bad habit that I will be happy to forsake. Hehehehe, now to go tell the family I have an idea.

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The Wish List

Around Thanksgiving time I came across an alphabetical list of giving thanks. At the time I thought it was clever and would be fairly easy to compile.

Hah!

And now in the season of receiving, as it has recently been described, it is even more difficult.

She was right; it is much harder to receive than it is to give.

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My Wish List

Apples – Bowls of apples, many colors, everywhere

Buoyancy – Lightness or resilience of spirit

Coffee – To let it go, let it go, get free of its merciless hold

Dance – To learn to waltz……….sigh

Eschew inertia – Gotta move it move it

Frankness – To be able to speak up when necessary

Gratitude – Every minute of every day with a happy heart

Hugs and kisses – In abundance

Ideas – Lots of them!

John 3:16 – “For God so loved the world , that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life.” This gift is for me and you.

Knowledge – Is power, Is freedom

Laughter – Deep, cathartic, and tear inducing.

More Books – I know, I know, that’s cheating, but books!

Nosegays – Violets, freshly picked, yes.

Open – To new adventures

Permission – From whom:for what? Myself:for love.

Quiet – Inside my head and out.

Retire – Dream on.

Surrender All – To the King of King, the Lord of Lords, my Savior, Christ.

Tulips, roses, and bouquets of daisies – Oh my.

Understanding – A state of cooperative or mutually tolerant relations between people.

Volunteer – somewhere, somehow, something.

Walk  in the morning again – It’s time.

X – Be excellent to each other.

Yellow – Mr Rabbit and the Lovely Present, by Charlotte Zolotow

Zip-a-dee-doo-day, Zip-a-dee-ay

My oh my what a wonderful day, when Christ was born.

 

 

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One Person

Life is so unpredictable.

I never would have been able to have come up with the storyline of mine. Where a witty artist of the words, whom I do not even know, would be my source of encouragement, the force that kept me centered on the real, during my last battle with my close and personal demons, fear and failure.

For without his verse, I do not think I would have continued. The vexation is that he has no idea what he did for me, and I cannot say thank you.

Unless of course you do.

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The Relinquishment

Letting go was the beginning of the end. Why it took so long for me to do so is not the topic of this post, so I will not go there, however, the day that the words, “If you and the children were better people, more encouraging, more respectful, I would not have to be so mean,” finally penetrated deep into the logic center of my brain, I knew things had to change.

And change they did; things got worse. For as a family we stopped accepting blame for another’s problems, however when that individuals victim status was revoked, and they were expected to take responsibility for their life, their decisions, their anger, instead of taking advantage of the opportunity to heal and grow with the family, they seethed, lashing out with fury on the unexpected, leaving the rational choice of escape as the only option.

Regardless of freedom, the feelings of blame still held sway in my mind. It was relentless, and fed with each encounter with its creator, there was no choice,  all contact was eliminated. Still, guilt was so firmly embedded by years of acceptance that it ate away at my resolve. The litany of, what if I had tried harder, what if I had more faith, what if, what if, what if, played havoc in my mind, that is, until God.

This is where things got dicey and faith in the goodness of God was tested, for His still small voice was relentless in its persistence, it whispered, “walk with him.” Okay, so I am freaking out here, because no way am I going down that destructive path again, but there it was again, “walk with him,” and the next day, “walk with him.” Well by now I think you get the picture, I know that I was beginning to. After weeks of this instruction, I decided to obey. I didn’t want to, I mean I really really really did not want to, but if I believed that God was good and to be trusted, there was no better option than to obey.

This was not an easy thing to put into practice. My early morning walks were mine, my time alone, to pray, to worship, to ponder, I didn’t want to share, especially with him, but I did, and every time I wanted to stop, back came those words, “walk with him.”  Talk about annoying. I know, my attitude here was stinkin to high heaven, but come on, we had been through hell, and who in their right mind wants to go back.

After several weeks of listening to “him” expound upon all my faults, and the multitude of wrongs I have caused him to commit, we finally got to the point of God’s leading. My walking companion became comfortable and forgot to whom he was speaking, it was his undoing and my release, for he spewed the details of his plan, how he had manipulated and abused the trust and love of his family for his own gain, and how he planned to continue.

I won’t lie, it hurt, deeply, I am still astounded how much. When I blamed myself it was depressing and destructive, but this, ouch, I was used, betrayed, unloved, but, and there is always a but, it is often the best part, I was finally able to relinquish my burden of guilt.

What else can I possibly do than to give, all praise, glory, and honor to a faithful God. He showed me the truth and set me free.

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Heigh-Ho Holiday

 

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Growing up there was this thing I dreaded, a holiday, for they were work days for my mother, and by this I mean, they were the days when she had her recalcitrant and reluctant help available, held captive by the celebration to come.

As an adult, I understand. She could not, and should not, have done everything herself, and that in a large and active family, pulling everyone together at the same time to accomplish a project is nigh impossible, except of course on holidays, for then my father, and the horde, were home to orchestrate as she wished.

Unfortunately, there was a fallout from this necessity, for I find myself withdrawing and hiding as a holiday draws near. I might have been  happily anticipating its arrival, planning many pleasurable activities and interactions with my beloved, and then, the closer we get to the actual day, the more invisible I become

 

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