Big Fat Fake


It has been a turmoil within my head and heart — this life I have, attempting to live pure of heart in the eyes of God as well as live pure in my own eyes. Purity being a relative word, not attempting to be free from all sin or failure. I am a realist for heaven’s sake so the ability to remain that kind of pure would be a failure looking for a place. The purity that I have so desired is a purity of heart — to live without regret or untruths; to be real, if to no one else at least to myself.

I tend to think I am a rule follower. What a ridiculous assumption for me to make — only to find myself following the rules that I myself create. Standards and practices of my own making, not out of any malice but mostly out of necessity. There are things you do and decisions you make sometimes just to get along. We all make life changes and moment by moment judgments that tend to stick, then become a way of life. These are the things which are causing pain and bring me to a place of questions and second guessing.

I was a girl who was lost, wandering without a sense of purpose and not knowing what to do next. Now I am old, not a girl anymore with childish wishes upon stars far away, still hoping against hope there will be a purpose to my life once more. I have become lost in my life, assuming I was living but only to find out I am dying. The very things I hold dear, the people who I have given my heart and trust can’t even be alone with me anymore. Have I changed that much? Am I the shrew I have been made out to be?

I have a bad habit of expecting the best out of people….not judging them but cheering them on to be who they can be. Is this wrong or is it unrealistic? When did the game plan change? Who moved, me or God? What happened to what we had? Life happened.

Life comes and goes, an ebb and flow of rights and wrongs challenging me what will I choose. What kind of excuses do I make to fit, to be like all the other kids. When did the merry-go-round stop and tell me to get off? This must be why I have the reoccurring dream about being lost, left back from my group, wandering around trying to see something I recognize. Being abandoned is probably my greatest fear, a knee jerk reaction from growing up with a family split apart, something I have never been able to stomach. This would be my ultimate failure and yet I wake up each day feeling like a big fat fake. Could this be my thorn in the flesh, the fakeness of my life? The need to be pure in spirit and heart is a need that I feel I have to satisfy.

How long do I go on with the constant pain of lost love and a loss of hope? My big fat fake life is one that is killing my heart and my prayer now is to have the courage to do something about it — help me Lord.

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Power Surge


So who is feeding my blog??

Apparently you have to give it a new post nearly everyday — jeez blog — I go from 58 reads to zilch within days of each other. Meanie!

I have an odd need to write but only in spurts. Good days, bad days, there is no rhyme or reason to it. At least it cured me from being a stats junkie! Which I had become. Self promotion is what it takes. That is what caused the power surge on that one day. Of course, I am not big on self promotion — this could be a problem — so I am back to writing just because I do.

Love it or leave it, this is how I roll!

Poor blog, I will try not to leave you hanging out to dry so often.

Being Pragmatic!


I can only start this thought in my head with the looking up of a definition …

PRAGMATIC –– An imperial decree that becomes part of the fundamental law of the land — imperial decree (a decree issued by a sovereign ruler) — pragmatism (philosophy) the doctrine that practical consequences are the criteria of knowledge and meaning and value) … a hardheaded appraisal of our position/a hard-nosed labor leader/completely practical in his approach to business. And to make it worse — realistic aware or expressing awareness of things as they really are.

OUCH! I really felt that!

A wise man once said, “you are a pragmatic person, you are a fixer!” What I felt was a compliment of the highest regard, and I do believe it was from the heart of one who loves me and I do take as a compliment. But after giving the matter more thought, I would have to still say — OUCH!

The truth of the matter — I am this word, in all the forms and that is the bitter pill of it all. Now, on the one hand, it can be great, almost euphoric on some levels. I can get things accomplished when needed, say the things that need to be said, get to the root of the matter. I have been described as being able to get to the guts of a situation, for which I was proud and took as a compliment. I have a need to have the air clean, no need for facade or unreal expectations and a zany need to speak plainly. Refreshing? Maybe. Realistic? Probably not!

That is the burn. And the worst part of this definition for me is the “imperial decree” and “fundamental law” and “sovereign ruler” of it all. Is that my inner mentality? I fear the worst. I have a family gene that tells me it may be true. Many strong women folk in my family tree! Have I set the mold and my expectation of others to abide by it? The problem is that I am not an imperial ruler with sovereign law. I have no super powers or abilities, or the freedom to have judgment of others. I find that I tend to have the “hardheaded appraisal of our position” also. Who needs it? Apparently ME!

This brings me to a position of change which for most people is hard, including me. But then I have this nagging voice in my head saying, “why do you have to back down all the time — why is it better to play along and not have standards or a position”? The another voice says, “forgive the failures, we are all but mortal men.”

I too fail even myself miserably. Who do I think I am, anyways? AUGH! What’s a girl to do? If I choose to live a solitary life, as some that have come before me have, then I can make the rules and live by them and have utter peace and quiet. No one to fuss at, no one to blame. Just me, day in and day out. Alone in my perfect world. AUGH! Or, put up with the status quo. Pick my wars and keep on striving to be content with the lack of respect and pleasures that I deserve. I do deserve that. I have come a long way to know that I DESERVE IT!

But, oh how hard to have what you know is right. Dealing with other people is nearly impossible. We are all coming from different vantage points and training and pasts. This I know — I am not the judge and jury, nor the boss of anyone. I can only say grace over ME. I just haven’t got a clue at what point do I call it a day.

My understanding teaches me seven times seventy, that’s how many times we forgive and I do understand that. Anyone who has ever had a child gets that, but that is a different relationship. When it is an equal one-on-one adult relationship, when is enough, enough? How do you find the balance and why in the world can’t some of these trials and tribulations end? Imperfect people in an imperfect world is the only answer I have.

God only knows the hearts of us all. I can only put it in his hands since I am spent. Good luck with it!

Being Pragmatic!


I can only start this thought in my head with the looking up of a definition …

PRAGMATIC –– An imperial decree that becomes part of the fundamental law of the land — imperial decree (a decree issued by a sovereign ruler) — pragmatism (philosophy) the doctrine that practical consequences are the criteria of knowledge and meaning and value) … a hardheaded appraisal of our position/a hard-nosed labor leader/completely practical in his approach to business. And to make it worse — realistic aware or expressing awareness of things as they really are.

OUCH! I really felt that!

A wise man once said, “you are a pragmatic person, you are a fixer!” What I felt was a compliment of the highest regard, and I do believe it was from the heart of one who loves me and I do take as a compliment. But after giving the matter more thought, I would have to still say — OUCH!

The truth of the matter — I am this word, in all the forms and that is the bitter pill of it all. Now, on the one hand, it can be great, almost euphoric on some levels. I can get things accomplished when needed, say the things that need to be said, get to the root of the matter. I have been described as being able to get to the guts of a situation, for which I was proud and took as a compliment. I have a need to have the air clean, no need for facade or unreal expectations and a zany need to speak plainly. Refreshing? Maybe. Realistic? Probably not!

That is the burn. And the worst part of this definition for me is the “imperial decree” and “fundamental law” and “sovereign ruler” of it all. Is that my inner mentality? I fear the worst. I have a family gene that tells me it may be true. Many strong women folk in my family tree! Have I set the mold and my expectation of others to abide by it? The problem is that I am not an imperial ruler with sovereign law. I have no super powers or abilities, or the freedom to have judgment of others. I find that I tend to have the “hardheaded appraisal of our position” also. Who needs it? Apparently ME!

This brings me to a position of change which for most people is hard, including me. But then I have this nagging voice in my head saying, “why do you have to back down all the time — why is it better to play along and not have standards or a position”? The another voice says, “forgive the failures, we are all but mortal men.”

I too fail even myself miserably. Who do I think I am, anyways? AUGH! What’s a girl to do? If I choose to live a solitary life, as some that have come before me have, then I can make the rules and live by them and have utter peace and quiet. No one to fuss at, no one to blame. Just me, day in and day out. Alone in my perfect world. AUGH! Or, put up with the status quo. Pick my wars and keep on striving to be content with the lack of respect and pleasures that I deserve. I do deserve that. I have come a long way to know that I DESERVE IT!

But, oh how hard to have what you know is right. Dealing with other people is nearly impossible. We are all coming from different vantage points and training and pasts. This I know — I am not the judge and jury, nor the boss of anyone. I can only say grace over ME. I just haven’t got a clue at what point do I call it a day.

My understanding teaches me seven times seventy, that’s how many times we forgive and I do understand that. Anyone who has ever had a child gets that, but that is a different relationship. When it is an equal one-on-one adult relationship, when is enough, enough? How do you find the balance and why in the world can’t some of these trials and tribulations end? Imperfect people in an imperfect world is the only answer I have.

God only knows the hearts of us all. I can only put it in his hands since I am spent. Good luck with it!

First One


When you have a son who is a songwriter and singer, the momma inside me can’t help but talk about it! He has struggled to find his voice……to speak or sing out his deepest heart, but he has withstood great adversaries…mostly his own flesh, only to find his heart, still strong with a life to LIVE. No one loves his friends more, will go to battle for them and is more loving. This man son is a tempest to be reckoned with and I wait with anticipation what God has waiting for him. I am blessed to call him my own. http://m.myspace.com/home.wap?bfd=webnext&isredirected=true#friends.list/profile/537634740

WILDEBEEST@ myspace

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Significance


Significance.

Significance


There are many people who seem to fall thru the cracks. They are ones who may or may not have the hope or where with all to feel they can make a difference in the world. Many have been the ones who have carried the burden for the rest of us, the “work horse” that is stedfast to set their face like a flint and keep on keeping on. I have known many people who fall into this category over the years and it has been a great blessing to call them my friends. One such person has been a blessing to me my whole life and is my closest sibling to me, my dear sister Janice. She was born third and as a rule in the birth order theory, the third child tends to be the one who hangs out and easy going, never making a fuss and usually compliant to everyone. Sometimes even when it isn’t the best thing for them, they are humble and quiet in nature. My big sister is all these and more. She has always been the trustworthy one, faithful to always help us out with her time or her extra money. Never did I leave the house without her making sure I had a little bit of ” mad money” or phone call money( this pre-dates cell phones! )She was my nurturer, my teacher and my best friend. She was stuck sharing a double bed with me my first ten years of my life. Bless her heart! I could always count on her to be there for me….. She was a significant part of my life, she still is! Today is her birthday…..she was born in Munich, Germany when our Dad was stationed there in the Korean War. One day I called her a Nazi…..okay I was a little kid, don’t judge, I grew out of that stage especially since she pounded me for it! Ya live and learn! She spent her life following in the shadow of our big brother and sister who were stand outs on their own being first and second, she was quiet and stayed under the radar. Always keeping tabs on her rotten little sister though ……she was my rock. My own third child was a boy and he too has the same personality, he’s as solid as they come and like her he is an avid reader. A regular bookworm…both of them, living the high life vicariously through the books they so love. My sisters love for books is her most memorable trait for me, if the chores were finished you could always find her with her nose in a book. She is the one who encouraged me to love reading and introduced me to the great C.S.Lewis, Lion, Witch and the Wardrobe as well as the stories of The Bible. When I would ask why we had Easter or other Holiday’s it was her who showed me in the Word. My sister was and is my friend and when I needed a level head to council me she was the one. My other sister who was a standout in my world also was the one I turned to when I wanted to get away with my many shenanigan’s, we are way too much alike! Usually partners in crime! It was a balanced life and I have always needed them both. At this time in the Birthday girls life she is the caretaker of our Mom who has been dealt an awful lot….Alzheimer’s. She has loved our Mom with compassion and respect and does her best to give her the best life possible, endures the daily heartbreaks of loss of moms memory and the constant stress of the obligation. Even the literal ” heat wave” she endures because of moms need to stay warm, a common need of the elderly. I honor my sister…JC (Janice Carol) but my favorite nickname for her was , January which our Uncle, Mr Miller ( I don’t think I ever knew his first name, how funny!) named her. She always gave a big smile when he called her that…I think it made her feel special if just for a minute….significant and that is the best thing of all. My sister’s life is significant….she has significance at least to me. I know she is significant to our mom and to her only daughter but most of all she is significant to GOD. He made her special if for no other reason but to be there for me…yes I think I am that special! I love you my sissy.,,.including the times you have had to correct me and those have been many, but more often you gave me courage and strength to go on and get busy. You will always be Lucy…peering into the Wardrobe showing me a whole new land to explore, thank you for that gift. Happy Birthday sweet one!

Self Doubt


So today, a friend of mine read my very short story… this “award-winning” short, walk down memory lane and he never said a word. Crickets! I was like in my head, going”….uh well, well, give me something here, geeez!” Then when his wife said, “aren’t’ you gonna say something? he replied…”I have complimented her on several different occasions and she always just says something funny or a joke so I have stopped!” WOW! Ya didn’t have to say that! But at the same time, yes! I like people who don’t mince words cuz I like to be that way. I don’t always get to but when I do I am more unmerciful than I should be. So this made me confront something that I deal with all the time. SELF DOUBT. What a lot of pain I have caused myself in my life. Why so hard to be strong? Apparently my need to be the first to admit I am not perfect is my self-preservation tactic…I gotta stop. It is not a very good example of faith. So that is my plan…stop being a bummer and start to fly. From the early years on the farm until I was ten I really did fly and I twirled and danced and romped. I didn’t have a care in the world…oh the joy of summer days and fields full of daisies! Of course then the dam breaks and there goes the dream……in starts the doubt. So full circle time is here, this is my time to fly again…and a little twirling along the way!

Time


I have been thinkin’ a lot lately about how amazing it is to live a long life. I have recently heard through some of my old friends from high school that there are several people who have already passed on and some at a young age. I guess that isn’t very hard to believe but when its some of your own age group and people who you had known that seemed invincible, die…well it’s just odd. One of the girls is someone who I had not known very closely, she was extremely popular and seemed to date all the cute guys. But now she is gone..early in her 30’s. Wow! What a waste if we don’t live our limited time here on earth to the fullest…I am guilty. Oh the time I have wasted. So many thoughts I have yet to think and dreams undreamed.
When I was young I would spend my days at my granny’s house. My brother and sisters would go to school and since I was too young I was blessed to have my granny close so I could stay with her….the best day care if your mom has to work by the way. Or at least it was for me. She loved me the best…..I was her favorite! Some may disagree, but they would be wrong….I promise! She had a great tree in her front yard, a silver leaf maple. I have a thing about trees. I love them. Could there be a better or more efficient use of Gods design. They do so much. On a hot day the temperature drops 10 or 20 degrees, at least! when you get under their shade. Okay anyways, this tree was the bomb in that yard. It was old and huge, it had that sorta peely bark, not as good as a Birch but ok. it was grey, peely and had the smaller roundish leaves that were ruffle-y.So I would lay flat on my back in the grass and spend hours (maybe only minutes, idk) and think and dream and plan and reflect. I had big happenings as a 5-year-old,; a lot to think about. But, the wind would blow through those leaves and they were silvery on the back and it would be so pretty as they flickered in the wind. That kind of time spent is never wasted and when I would look up and see all those branches shoot out from the truck as if it were lots and lots of roads leading to new worlds. Well it was a wonderful playground of adventure and our lives are so full from all the minor events of our life…those minor events are what make the major events tolerable. Sometimes it is comforting to think back to those times and remember how simple life seemed. Of course unless you are 5 and you feel like the whole world is resting on your shoulders…there is a lot of pressure at 5……favorite doll?, hmmmm! Raggedy Ann or Chatty Cathy?

Rain


Today it is raining and raining and there is rain in the forecast. We have roads that are flooded and it reminded me of a sad but true story of what could have been tragic but because my mother is a smart person it was only a few can vegetables who lost their life…….I grew up until I was 9 years old on a farm near Murfreesboro, Tn. It was located sorta monkey-in-the-middle between Bradyville Pike and Woodbury Pike. It was on Floration road and it had about a mile lane that took you to the house. When I say lane I am not saying a primrose lane; not to give the mental picture of a beautiful poesy and vine-covered path. This was like a tree-lined, rocky gravel and creepy sort of lane that I am not even sure how our car got down it. In the middle of the journey down this lane there was a creek (of course) and it was pretty wide, maybe twenty-five feet or so. The whole time we lived there up until the last 3 years there was NO BRIDGE. Okay, maybe I should give some back story here: I LOVED MY FARM! I was probably the only one except my daddy. Of course it was his idea to buy it, so it goes without saying. My mother and two sisters had to endure many painful times…as women, and to further explain, we didn’t have an indoor bathroom until the year before we moved. Both sisters were teenagers and I was about eight years old. Yep, the old outhouse was it and it was out behind the pig pen, wonder why? We got very familiar with the Sears and Roebuck catalogue because as with all bathrooms there is often a shortage of paper at any given time. Need I say more. I have one brother and of course he was daddy’s little mule. He did like the farm I think; he hunted and fished and explored and it gave him a hard-working character for which he would later need in the Army and two tours in Viet Nam. My daddy had a lot of hope and dreams for the farm he was just a little slooowwww on bringing them about. As a kid it was high adventure for me; I was on the run all the time, barefoot and long blond braids flying in the wind. It was the best time of my life. For everyone else, not so much! Back to the flood. Well on this certain Saturday we had gone to “town” to do the grocery shopping. Back in the day a family usually only went once a week, after payday and usually on Saturday. So all of us girls went with my mother and while we were there it rained…alot! This creek was usually pretty low, we could drive over it at the point where the road was it didn’t really go much above the tires. But on this day it had rained and the creek was up. It goes along with the old saying when you are expected somewhere and you say “I will see you if the Lord’s willin’ and the creek don’t rise!” Well, that’s where that line comes from because back in the country if the creek rises you ain’t going anywhere! So here we go back home, driving down the lane and we get to the creek and of course the creek it way up, I mean to the top of the front of the car. I want to say the car we had been a Ford Fairlane, I think. It was light bluey green and it had these little round glass objects on the corners in the front. I don’t know what to call them, I just thought they looked like a spy glass or something as amazing. A wide car for sure, we could all fit with room to spare and we got to the creek and there was my mom with a decision to make. Do I try it? Will I make it? I wonder how many times she has told him we needed a bridge and a bathroom. How much she must have wanted to get in that car and drive far far away. I wonder if she ever thought about it, ever planned it in her head and her heart. How hard it must have been for her to live that way. She was and is a stronger women than I will ever be. But on this day there was a decision that had to be made. We had a huge amount of groceries in the trunk and inside the car, a lot of money would be lost. Well, needless to say we couldn’t sit there till the rain stopped and the water receded so she went for it! Actually we started to go for it, drove in just a little only the front of the car and then she realized it was a NO GO. So we all got out, a little wet and a few objects floated out. But all was not lost. But the car was stuck! Oh good grief, no cell phones back then so one of us had to walk all the way home and call my daddy….at work…..my poor mom. So he had to get a tow truck pull the car out and begin the process of freaking out! I don’t know if I don’t blame him a little, but in her defense, she had ice cream melting, and she had to get us all home out of the rain. But what transpired was the worst of the worse. Like most families it only takes even a little tragedy to cause trouble but this was a major faux pau! Little did any of us know that this was only one more nail in the coffin of their marriage; there was finally a bridge built, it is still there now with our names written on it and one day I will figure out a way to sneak back to see that bridge and our names. If only a bridge could have been built to save a family from a flood that would ripple on through years of hardships. I guess in every life a little rain must fall; just be sure there is always a bridge to keep you safe and dry.