Moving Through the Room of Jello

Dear God;
moving within a new place is hard
even if i believe i'm supposed to be here
we're to be here
i am afraid

Leaving (not on a jet plane)

Dear God...

It's a new year but the newness began last year. You've definitely set me on a more narrow path.
So many words spoken into the atmosphere. (I don't believe words go away, they fly around in the air. We don't see them, but their effect is continuing.)

December 2 was 'go day'. Blessing, Blanky, & 3 girls, compelled to move on a road less traveled with little to 'go' with. Our plans were not Your plans (how funny is that?).

We left in dark rain on a Friday night; it stopped long enough to walk the streets of Hot Springs Arkansas. We left that state under torrential swallowing land rains. Car slip sliding across bridges as we crossed into Tennessee. 18-wheelers washed the car as they passed. It rained all the way to North Carolina. A much needed place of rest.

Resign, Resignation, Moving On

resign |riˈzīn|
verb
voluntarily leave a job or other position; leave, hand in one's notice, give notice, stand down, step down; leave, vacate, stand down from;renounce, relinquish

Dear God it’s me, your daughter—again.
“No good byes, farewell or dinner parties, or wonderful conversations over meals. Leave.”
How to explain that to the people I know? Not…can’t
I have the audacity to believe the compelling within my gut pushed me from comfortability onto a road unknown but not first traveled.
"Go out from your country, your relatives, and your father’s household to the land that I will show you." God spoke those words to Abraham. He I am not.

And so without traditional so longs, farewells, auf wiedersehen, good-byes the Ford Focus Zx3 was packed. Harvey, my brother, helped us by taking things that wouldn't fit in the car (larger, but smaller, than believed).

What was I to tell people? "God told me"? There are times I don't even know if I do hear Your voice. Our conversations are unique. So, I prefer not to talk about something that doesn't make sense in the natural (when I'm being obedient to the compelling from the spiritual). All I have are the dreams of places to go, highways to drive, and a fellow traveler.

Dear God, thank you for taking care of us so far. There's so much to tell; too much for this blog. Tomorrow, from the same hotel, part 2.

I've Got People!

Dear God, it's me - again;
You wrote in your chronicles (i believe the 14th sentence in the seventh chapter)
if your people, called by your name...
you have got people
and we are learning (still)

well today, celebrating you giving me another year to breathe
i was reminded - again
i got people down here on this earth
and am humbled by their happy words
(yes Eugene, i am laughing)
words of love
placing hope within my heart that Your Body might just get it after all
one person at a time

and so to my people here to Guam to Tennessee
and all the places in between
your words plucked my eyes
remembered your faces
smiling mouths open
blessing me
reminding me
of conversations around plates of food
sharing beliefs and doubts
and more of the same
reminding me that i miss you all
and have no idea if we'll ever meet again
the joy is that we have met
spoken
laughed
cried
done a small part of life
together

and those are stepping stones into my new year
i never believed i'd live to be 50
passed that milestone
i have to tell you
it gets deliciously better
with God mixin' it up!

and God and i continue to look for Him in America

My Dreams Haunt Me

i awoke crying & speaking
"oh God"

i'd had a warring dream
the details are not important here
but within this dream - human on human horror
and there were children
helpless children
at the end of my dream
i was holding a little boy
hugging my face
"tank you" came from his mouth
i held him close and began crying
crying for the pain of the place
crying out
"oh God, oh God, help us"

i awoke and thought
through my tears
how far are we away from that human on human horror
where children are...

dear God, it's me - again

A Better Way to Speak My Heart

this evening i had the unfortunate experience of speaking from an emotional place of historical pain
it let me know that i still have personal pain over the way i'm still treated because of the color of my skin
it's unfortunate that the racial divide of our nation's been minimized to the comfortable definition of 'capitalism'

dear God;
how do i let you live through me when i keep getting in the way?

A Better Way to Speak My Heart

this evening i had the unfortunate experience of speaking from an emotional place of historical pain
it let me know that i still have personal pain over the way i'm still treated because of the color of my skin
it's unfortunate that the racial divide of our nation's been minimized to the comfortable definition of 'capitalism'

dear God;
how do i let you live through me when i keep getting in the way?

No Rest for the Weary

weary |ˈwi(ə)rē|
adjective ( wearier , weariest )
feeling or showing tiredness, esp. as a result of excessive exertion or lack of sleep

tiring, exhausting, wearying, fatiguing, enervating, draining, sapping, wearing, trying, demanding, taxing, arduous, grueling, difficult, hard, tough

Dear God, It me - again;
How do I get myself trapped within spaces, within walls, that try to define me and I still don't know the full understanding of who I am? How?
I want people to like me, chose me, love me (a person-pleasing spirit) and that is not healthy. It sits low within me and comes out when I least expect; don't like it at all.
I know it because my inner voice speaks "careful...careful", but my mouth engages and a lie speaks.
"I'm well, thank you."
"It's good to see you." (accompanied by the back patting hug)

And within my mental landscape I war with myself another day questioning whether I am loved for just me and not what someone can get out of me or without me giving away my soul.

There's so much to tell and so much to write; but then I'd have to bring things I don't want to remember forward.

Dear God, thanks for listening.