I've had the urge to write for about a week. So many things to urgently expound upon. But let's start with faith. My faith is not in a great place currently. It's also not in a terrible place. It's kinda just there. Except maybe a little neglected. I pull it out occasionally and tell it how I'm really a good kid and trying to follow a path, and then I shove it back in a box and put it back on the shelf. Wouldn't want it to influence... oh, say.... every little area of my life. Big or small? God no. or probably.... God knows.... sigh. that's the kicker. God knows. God knows when I'm avoiding Him, drowning out the still small voice with an urgent social matter, personal matter, recovery matter, etc. He already knows.
I've been hearing a lot of talk about abandonment issues. Mostly from anonymous friends. And apparently they work steps and get freedom. I guess maybe I'm clinging to my exceptionality. I am the exception to this. My hurts run deeper. My hurts are more spititual. My hurts are not at the heart of my addiction. Except they are.
Isn't that why I crave not to feel? To find the numbness and get more and more and more?
So maybe I'm just an ordinary drunk. An ordinary addict. a pill seeker. a thrill seeker. a searcher for the inner numb.
There is this inner child that longs for healing from abandonment from her idol, her hero, her daddy. The Dad who too often left her in unsafe places with unsafe people as her only help, only hope. So maybe my mother never abandoned me but I was still all alone. And my dad, he's still my hero. Idk how to really look at this. To admit to it. To realize that maybe he's the one who failed me. Maybe it wasn't all "the other parent".
I'm afraid. I'm afraid that what might set me free will kill me. Because these are feelings I do not want to face.
I have talked to God about it some. But it's a little awkward.
Financial responsibility. That's a good one. Except it isn't. Not to me. I don't like the term, I don't like what it implies, I don't like the work it takes, and the self-denial I will need to exercise. yuck.
I have a moral dilemma. The "f" word. Have I mentioned that I love the F word? I do. And I wonder if I really need to use it in every single sentence that comes out of my mouth. Maybe I could dial that sh*t back just a little bit. (insert shoulder shrug) maybe. Maybe it would lend more credence to my claim that I love Jesus. maybe. But the thing is, Jesus knows I'm a big fan of the F word. He's decided to accept me as I am. Foul mouth and all. But society. I might appear more intelligent to the blankety-blank middle class if I were to use the F-bomb less frequently. And it might gain back some shock power and wow factor if I did. But what about creativity? I am fan-fucking-tastic at weaving that word into any thing and everything (every-fucking-thing).
Homesteading and gardening and farming.... oh my!
My brain is overloaded and overwhelmed with information on homesteading and I want to be a successful gardener and farmer. I want to have sucess. With my little farm and my little menagerie of animals and, and, and.... Seriously my typing fingers cannot keep with my thoughts. So much to do. Tending to the soil, caring for the animals, preparing for the winter, the spring, the next opportunity. Some days I'm exhausted before my feet hit the ground.
Lastly, please continue to pray for us. There is a lot going on. So much of it is financially draining. And were in a season of Job. One kid has already said, "why would God just leave us in turmoil and not help us?" (I'm paraphrasing here, it was a late-night conversation for one and for two, my brain doesn't remember exact phrasing like some people's do). If it ain't one thing, it's another. Last month we fixed a U-joint and replaced a water pump. This month I've refrained from fixing anything because we're broke from last month still. But the other u-joint is acting up now and the brakes they are a squealing. Those brakes I can only ignore for so long and then I'll have even more expenses to pay. The universal joint should have A WHILE left on it before it's anywhere close to being as bad as the other one when we changed it. Oh yeah, and my dipstick broke. And a piece is stuck in the tube. So I can't check my oil. This frightens me a little. Just keep praying. Please. And I'll just keep swimming.
P.S. Grieving sucks. We lost one of our doggies last week. And we miss him. And knowing he's in a better place doesn't stop me from looking for him.
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| Midnight garden delight... it's often late when I water, but this guy was so cheerful greeting me! |
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