tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24057110691026611432024-02-20T11:57:14.033-08:00JessiepaloozaWarning: It seems that I only ever write in this when I'm feeling melancholy or love-lorn. When I'm in a great and happy mood, I'm out in the sunshine spending time with my family and friends. This is why you'll see huge chunks of time missing, and then huge chunks of posts rushing in all at once. It's much easier to talk to an abstract "you" than it is for me to hold it all in... thanks for listening, even if I never know you're there. Writing a blog is kind of like being schizophrenic...:)Jessiepaloozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08289933772571108871noreply@blogger.comBlogger50125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2405711069102661143.post-74295822880304047362014-08-12T17:06:00.001-07:002014-08-12T17:08:03.269-07:00The Trade<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There is a peace once you reach a certain age, I'm told.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Some days, I feel as though I have made love to that peace.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My arms and my legs have intertwined and caressed a depth of confidence and joy that I did not know when I was younger.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My war-ravaged heart has mended through years of kindness and grace.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My love has kissed the peace that the old crones promise in their whispers, when you listen.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My body is excited to feel this peace deepen and permeate as time pulls at my physical beauty and replaces it with wisdom, confidence, and zen.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is a fair trade.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Jessiepaloozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08289933772571108871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2405711069102661143.post-41450432254793788702013-01-07T15:59:00.001-08:002013-01-07T16:01:51.003-08:00beautiful, naked, unabashed loveI have not written in this blog in over a year, and yet, the post I make today is not a post about me or my life - and yet it is. One of the sweetest women I know is struggling with a broken heart. While she was dating the man who has influenced her heart's current state I would watch in awe that their relationship was my former relationship with new faces. I would think to myself, "this must have been how my friends felt powerlessly watching me suffer through that relationship." I would have empathy for my friend, restraint toward her lover, and relief that it wasn't me this time.<br />
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Today, my friend has been separated from her paramour for several months and she continues to grieve the loss of the relationship. She confided in me that she still loves him and feels sorrow. I responded with this email...<br />
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<span style="background-color: #f4cccc; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Oh, my sweet friend, I so deeply and truly know those feelings. I feel like you and I have had parallel relationships with the same man in two different faces. It can be so confusing to love someone, to truly love them, and to also have that part of you know that while they love you the best that they could love, their love isn't enough. It's not enough for them, even if, for a small time, you think it's enough for you. To love them truly, and also know in the depth of your heart that their love isn't enough, because they can't love, not truly, not deeply, not the way that your Love deserves to be loved.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #f4cccc;">It's a tragic feeling. The tragedy is when you honor your love and you allow yourself to feel it. You allow your love to feel the fear and freedom of loving, and you know in your mind that your love isn't really free, you're just taking it on a walk - it's still on a leash. You continue to present your love, your beautiful love that is gorgeous naked, and you present your love all dolled up with lace and bows and you present it to your beloved only for him to tell you that he doesn't know what to do with it and that you should keep it safe yourself.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #f4cccc;">It's tragic when you think about all the love you've poured into the man you love and you think about how much he's grown and changed because of YOUR LOVE, and that the only way to keep your love safe is to listen to him. To keep your love safe, yourself. To think of all the love he's received and how beautiful it has made him to himself and to others, and how he'll know how to love now that he's been loved; but, when he's finally able to love, it will be to love someone else.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #f4cccc;">That your beautiful, naked, unabashed love - that YOUR LOVE in its shining beauty and glory - that the love you possess that makes your friends love you, your kids love you, your coworkers and bosses, your kids' teachers, strangers in line in the store, passers by on the street, that all this love inside you that everyone sees and everyone appreciates, that the love was impotent in inspiring the one person in the whole world whom you chose to love, to love you back. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #f4cccc;">So you second guess it. You think that the love everyone sees in you must be a facade. You think that everyone sees something in you that they are interpreting as love, but they are all wrong, you're just good at faking it. Because obviously, if you were good at loving, you wouldn't be alone. You would be loving someone, and they would be loving you back. You would be enveloped in a cocoon of love, drifting higher and higher on an upward spiral of reciprocity and love.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #f4cccc;">But, my friend, all those beautiful and wonderful things you saw in Dustin he did not see in himself. All of those beautiful and wonderful things he saw in you, made him realize even deeper that he was absent of those traits. The more you loved him, the more he doubted his ability to love, because he could not love in the beautiful and untethered way that you loved. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #f4cccc;">You are on a pedestal You are glowing and shiny. You have love to give. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #f4cccc;">And right now, your heart is broken. Your heart is confused. Your heart still loves him, and you know what, your heart ALWAYS will. Your heart is really, really good at loving. And that's a very good thing.</span></div>
Jessiepaloozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08289933772571108871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2405711069102661143.post-64570287731729021492011-05-26T00:28:00.000-07:002011-05-26T00:37:31.061-07:00Cubic ZirconiumI have been the protagonist of poetry written in effort to woo or entice me.<div><br /></div><div>I have played the muse to a lyricist. </div><div><br /></div><div>I have brought strong men to their knees, requesting requite for their love.</div><div><br /></div><div>But to all these men, I have been a means to an end.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have been a fantasy.</div><div><br /></div><div>None of these men have put forth the effort to discover the soul beneath the woman.</div><div><br /></div><div>None of these men have truly loved ME.</div><div><br /></div><div>This is the cornerstone and mortar to the walls that surround my sashay and flirtation.</div>Jessiepaloozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08289933772571108871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2405711069102661143.post-29347156754878581342011-05-25T23:54:00.000-07:002011-05-26T00:15:12.274-07:00Laminin<span class="Apple-style-span"><br /><span class="Apple-style-span">I'm the one who holds it all together.</span><div style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px; text-indent: 0px !important; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px; text-indent: 0px !important; ">I'm the one who is the glue.</div><div style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px; text-indent: 0px !important; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px; text-indent: 0px !important; ">I put the wrong right again.</div><div style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px; text-indent: 0px !important; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px; text-indent: 0px !important; ">I sacrifice and I love.</div><div style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px; text-indent: 0px !important; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px; text-indent: 0px !important; ">I am strength incarnate.</div><div style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px; text-indent: 0px !important; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px; text-indent: 0px !important; ">Even when it is my turn, it is never my turn.</div><div style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px; text-indent: 0px !important; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px; text-indent: 0px !important; ">Where is my heart when my heart needs me?</div><div style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px; text-indent: 0px !important; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px; text-indent: 0px !important; ">Where is my heart when I need it to be strong for me?</div><div style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px; text-indent: 0px !important; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px; text-indent: 0px !important; ">Where is my love when my heart is hurting?</div><div style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px; text-indent: 0px !important; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px; text-indent: 0px !important; ">When is it my turn to be vulnerable?</div><div style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px; text-indent: 0px !important; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px; text-indent: 0px !important; ">It is not now, for I am strong.</div><div style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px; text-indent: 0px !important; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px; text-indent: 0px !important; ">My fortress needs me.</div><div style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px; text-indent: 0px !important; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px; text-indent: 0px !important; ">............................................................</div><div style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 13px; text-indent: 0px !important; "><br /></div><div style="text-indent: 0px !important; "><span class="Apple-style-span">The Lord is my Strength, I am not my own.</span></div><div style="text-indent: 0px !important; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></div><div style="text-indent: 0px !important; "><span class="Apple-style-span">...........................................................</span></div></span>Jessiepaloozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08289933772571108871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2405711069102661143.post-42289996005108155352011-05-25T23:22:00.001-07:002011-05-25T23:22:19.680-07:00<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; ">Calm me, O Lord, as you stilled the storm,<br />Still me, O Lord, keep me from harm,<br />Let all the tumult within me cease,<br />Enfold me, Lord, in your peace.<br />~ Celtic Traditional</span>Jessiepaloozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08289933772571108871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2405711069102661143.post-75111570625934937672011-05-25T23:01:00.000-07:002011-05-25T23:02:09.471-07:00Fury<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(42, 42, 42); font-family: 'Segoe UI', Tahoma, Verdana, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; ">It is rare that I am furious.<div style="line-height: 17px; "><br /></div><div style="line-height: 17px; ">My body doesn't recognize the anger.</div><div style="line-height: 17px; "><br /></div><div style="line-height: 17px; ">I feel like there is a simmering boil in my heart.</div><div style="line-height: 17px; "><br /></div><div style="line-height: 17px; ">I don't know if it's anger or disappointment,</div><div style="line-height: 17px; "><br /></div><div style="line-height: 17px; ">it's both.</div><div style="line-height: 17px; "><br /></div><div style="line-height: 17px; ">They are dancing, making love, and laughing.</div><div style="line-height: 17px; "><br /></div><div style="line-height: 17px; ">Anger and disappointment.</div><div style="line-height: 17px; "><br /></div><div style="line-height: 17px; ">My peace and self-control have them caged,</div><div style="line-height: 17px; "><br /></div><div style="line-height: 17px; ">but they act like burlesque dancers in that cage.</div><div style="line-height: 17px; "><br /></div><div style="line-height: 17px; ">I am not a circus ringleader, I don't know how to tame a lion,</div><div style="line-height: 17px; "><br /></div><div style="line-height: 17px; ">and right now</div><div style="line-height: 17px; "><br /></div><div style="line-height: 17px; ">I feel angry, disappointed and powerless.</div><div style="line-height: 17px; "><br /></div><div style="line-height: 17px; ">I don't want to sleep.</div><div style="line-height: 17px; "><br /></div><div style="line-height: 17px; ">I don't want to speak.</div><div style="line-height: 17px; "><br /></div><div style="line-height: 17px; ">I don't want to shout.</div><div style="line-height: 17px; "><br /></div><div style="line-height: 17px; ">I don't want anything.</div><div style="line-height: 17px; "><br /></div><div style="line-height: 17px; ">I just want to be alone and be angry.</div><div><br /></div></span>Jessiepaloozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08289933772571108871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2405711069102661143.post-32318666074697496472011-04-26T23:48:00.000-07:002011-04-27T00:05:46.416-07:00Awake, oh Sleeper!I once feared the ice.<br />. The cold and brittle that can surround a warm heart; snuff its flame.<br /><br />I once feared the chill.<br />. The coolness of a cavalier attitude.<br /><br />It was in this frozenness that I laid all my worries and fears about people. I layered and scattered them throughout the tundra.<br /><br />I had once blazed so hot, that I can remember the magnitude of my fire... though ash now remains.<br /><br />My heat was blue.<br /><br />Sometimes, I wonder if that fire can reignite. Sometimes I wonder if I can stoke it.<br /><br />Sometimes, I enjoy my ice castle as I sit here with my old foes...<br /><br />Sometimes, I long to burn within.<br /><br />Frozen suspension is an ambivilant torture beyond a pyre.Jessiepaloozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08289933772571108871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2405711069102661143.post-6310851089483080022010-09-27T19:25:00.001-07:002010-09-27T19:25:20.599-07:00dead airI have not written on this in a long, long while.<br />So I thought that maybe today is the day.<br />I don’t know what I have to say, maybe nothing.<br /><br />Maybe the page will remain blank and this will be a piece of wasted space.<br /><br />I should end it right now… because that would be funny to post.Jessiepaloozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08289933772571108871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2405711069102661143.post-9216287315264994482010-07-22T21:48:00.000-07:002010-07-22T21:49:16.360-07:00Men.<div><br /></div><div>or are they boys, trying to pretend to be men just long enough to get you hooked.</div>Jessiepaloozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08289933772571108871noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2405711069102661143.post-859454466803942522010-06-08T11:01:00.000-07:002010-06-08T11:02:01.252-07:00It's not the destination, it's the journeyOnce upon a time there was a girl and a little boy. They were okay. The girl took the child by the hand and she led him through the dark woods, fought off scary monsters, and prepared picnics next to calm streams within meadows, as well as lunches atop grizzly mountains.<br /><br />The child was unaware of the peril and turmoil raging so near as he was hypnotized by her song and the skip-to-my-lou she danced as she led him by the hand.<br /><br />The girl had slain the fear each time through the light and hope in her heart. She knew beyond a shadow of doubt that her Heavenly Father held her other hand. Rather, she wasn’t guiding the child, but herself being led and rescued.<br /><br />Sometimes she would confide loneliness to her Father above. She would tell him about how much she loves her child and how happy it makes her to hold his hand and sing. Though, now and then, she wishes for someone tangible to help her lead him though the dark woods. Someone to help her read the map, because it is written in riddles and there is no promise of a grand destination drawn (other than her Father’s house which is unreachable for the time being).<br /><br />So, He grants her the relief from her lonely heart. He promises her comfort for the moment. So he sends her friends to visit her on the road from time to time; a friend for wise counsel, and one for comic relief. He sends her a friend whose journey has been more perilous than hers and who needs her more than she needs him. He sends her friends to distract, entertain, support, confide, dream, dance, and intellectualize.<br /><br />But each friend has his own journey to either trudge or waltz. So while some companions travel with her for long periods, years; and some come in and out quickly, she is happy in their company and sad at their departure.<br /><br />And as always, the two constants in the girl’s life are the child and her Father.<br /><br />And the merry-go-round of friends and of dark woods versus calm meadows sometimes spins her around dizzyingly.<br /><br />Until she drops.<br /><br />And stops.<br /><br />And plops down.<br /><br />To sing to the child, and to rest against the strong chest of her Father, while He strokes her hair; while He sings in her ear; while he gives her refuge for the moment. And her weary legs rest and revive. Her lonely heart heals it’s lonesomeness as it finds its joy in the child’s singing.<br /><br />She looks up at her Father, looks him square in the eye, and says, “Thank you.”<br /><br />Then she adds, “When you think I am ready, will you bring me someone who doesn’t dance in, and then dance out? Will you bring me someone who will dance to my song, and love it? Father, will you bring me someone who will take your other hand so we can all journey this together?”<br /><br />The girl doesn’t always know if she’s going the right way. Sometimes those monsters are scary to fight off all alone. Sometimes her hand gets sweaty and her voice hoarse, and leading the child now and then becomes burdensome.<br /><br />She conveyed this to her Father, and she trusted Him to follow through because she knows His capacity to love is even greater than hers. She knows He wants her safe and happy.<br /><br />So she gripped the child’s hand tighter and sang louder because she loves, and she is loved. She continued through the forests, meadows, and monsters with the knowledge that love conquers all and she can always find rest in the song of her Father. She can always lean against His solid stature.<br /><br />Together, the girl and the child sing. Together, they skip-to-my-lou. Together they love, and together they wait.Jessiepaloozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08289933772571108871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2405711069102661143.post-84926868907346545142009-04-03T18:44:00.001-07:002009-04-03T18:44:58.448-07:00We Try To Be Who We Are NotThis was inspired by several people who have expressed frustration with members of the opposite sex and what they have noticed as a pattern in their lives. It was actually a couple emails I sent to encourage them and I have merged together. Happy reading!<br /><br /><br /><br />Jessie<br />----------<br /><br /><br /><br />We try to be who we are not. Or we try to figure out the intensions of our suitors. We second guess our worth, personalities, etc and tread cautiously. When we do this we are removing ourselves from being defined by God and we are not only defining ourselves (ourself) but we are doing it on a standard we THINK is desireable.<br /><br />If the old cliches are true: we are our own worse critic or our own worse enemy, then what give us the right to manipulate or create our own definition of our worth? Isn’t it awkward and ironic that when we hold the bar to our own personal gold standard of self-value we always fall short... How sad and sorrowful! To be our worse enemy and yet also be the judge of our own character. No wonder people give up. How liberating it is when you realize that our father is so much more forgiving than we are (hence The Lord's Prayer).<br /><br /><br /><br />When we find our self-definition based upon God's grace and by being authentic then we live our lives in states of happiness regardless of the circumstances surrounding us. We are no longer defined by who we think others want us to be, but rather, we are content in who we are. How awesome is that! To just be happy being you.<br /><br />Sounds kind of like a kid, huh? Just because we're responsible adults doesn't mean we can't have a childlike sense of self-worth (not to be confused with a childlike sense of entitlement, which is a confusion quite often mistaken in today's society I fear!).<br /><br />I know that I succumb to the world's definition of me. I have to remind myself fairly regularly and pray a lot to ask God to help me see myself as the woman he sees. I work with children quite often and you know, I can see SO MUCH potential and worth in them. These beautiful little personalities and hearts and they have NO IDEA of how wonderful they are. They are so wrapped up in the hardships of their little lives; it's so pervasive that they forget that they are just little buds, they haven’t bloomed yet. Doesn't our Father see that same thing in us? He sees our insecurities, finger pointing, blaming, gossiping, etc. and thinks about how if we could just acknowledge our beauty we wouldn't need to stoop to that in order to provide our false sense of worth/beauty. He wants to show us and wants us to THRIVE in it.<br /><br />When we look at the systematic effects of finding our worth outside of ourselves and outside of God it leads us to our friendships and love relationships. When you spend your time burying your head in the sand in order to avoid the places that don’t live up to your own self-expectations, your true colors eventually show. This is where I find many of my friends and acquaintances when they are in life crises.<br /><br /><br /><br />And the problem is that when push comes to shove, both you and your partner will feel duped at your phoniness and it will be too late. You really aren’t all the things you’ve claimed to be, things you thought you were, or wanted to be and couldn’t. When it comes out in the wash your lover or friend is so disappointed in who you really are that you turn around and find yourself alone. But you know what else, the people pleaser is going to be just as freaked out as his lover when the true colors show. He won’t even know the person he sees in the mirror: A person without definition when all the socialites waltz away. This happens because often times we fake it so good that we begin to believe ourselves.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />What a nightmare that would be! To have times get tough, your true colors show, and it had fooled everyone, even you.<br /><br />The strong muddle through it, strap up their boots, take their identity crisis head on and find out WHO they are and who they want to be. The weak continue to mask it, hoping they can fake it til they make it.<br /><br /><br /><br />Your life is not a dress rehearsal. It is not a play where you get to have seven acts playing someone else, and then go on to the next show and new character. Eventually someone sees into your heart and loves you for what they see. How comforting to know that they love all those things about you and they are REALLY YOU. Love God, love yourself, love others, and watch yourself reap the bounty of blessings that follow! You can’t help it, you’re not focused on what you’re lacking or missing – you only have love.Jessiepaloozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08289933772571108871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2405711069102661143.post-62988740303566314192009-02-22T14:17:00.000-08:002009-02-22T14:19:13.929-08:00What I Want<span style="color:#333333;"><em><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">Maybe it will be love at first sight.<br />Maybe it will be someone who I've known all this time and never noticed romantically.<br />Maybe it will be someone who I hate when I meet.<br />Maybe it will be a coworker<br />Maybe it will be someone I meet at one of the psych conferences.<br />Maybe it will be a handsome stranger pumping gas.<br />Maybe it will be in ten years.<br />Maybe it will be tomorrow.<br />Maybe it will be never.<br />Maybe I already had my chance with him and blew it.<br />Maybe I could play the maybe-game all day and never meet him because I'm so busy with my head in the clouds.<br />Maybe I should not worry about it because it will happen when it's meant to.<br /><br />no.<br /><br />sadly<br /><br />I don't think he has come.<br /><br />I want a man who sees me the way my friends see me. I want a man who doesn't look at me as a sexy woman. Who doesn't see me as a successful busines woman. Who doesn't pigeonhole me. I want a man who sees the radiant woman that my friends see and love. I want a man who SEES that and who loves it. Who wants more of it.<br /><br />I don't want a man who just sees that my friends love me. What I have to give. I want a man who loves me the way my friends love me, but who loves me MORE.<br /><br />that's what I want.<br /><br />i know that I can't get that with instant gratification.<br /><br />I know that is the kind of bond that is built in time.<br /><br />But it's so frustrating to want something that is so transendant and deep and to refuse less. I am happy in my single state of being, but I do feel a bit of a missing piece. I am tiring of fighting the good fight alone, I am ready to accept the idea that I do not have to be an army of one. But I want the fighter with me to be the one who will fight to the end. I want him to be my faithful friend as well as my lover under the stars. I want him to stir my heart and stimulate my mind. I want my tears to find a safe place on his chest and in his heart, and I want my joy to radiate from his toes to his fingers when he is in my presense.<br /><br />and sometimes<br /><br />I wonder<br /><br />is that too much to ask for?<br /><br />but I resoundingly shout NO! NO IT'S NOT!<br /><br />I am not asking for an adonis. He does not have to be without flaw. There is not a requirement for his profession. there is no preconceived notion of what he will do, or look like, or say. But our love will speak volumes and sing poetry. Our arguments and fights will resolve with our devotion. That is all I want. I want a fighter, not a quitter.</span></em> </span>Jessiepaloozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08289933772571108871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2405711069102661143.post-49366981594681571522009-01-07T22:48:00.000-08:002009-01-07T23:04:24.184-08:00doncha make my brown eyes blue<span style="color:#000066;">Gosh, right when I'm feeling so happy. I'm done with school. I kicked butt in boot camp today. I have friends who love and value me.<br /><br />I have said that I would love to get my doctorate in Sac or at Stanislaus State because I would love to be closer to the Darlings. Well, I was looking at my little sister's page and I found a weird person that said, "Mr & Mrs. Darling". I clicked on it and it led me to another page. On October 18th my brother Mike got married. The whole family was there and no one told me or invited me. It's been almost three months.<br /><br />I just feel like crying. No wait. I am crying.<br /><br />It's times like this when I feel everything crumble around me and I remember how my mom left when I was pregnant. It just makes all my happiness seem so flacid. Why do things seem to come so easy to some people? Why does God see it fit that I have to be all alone? Why is it that if I want or long for family I have to turn friends into family? But my friends have their own families...<br /><br />Why does it seem that when I'm content, it has to end with tears?<br /><br />I just hear my mom, "Sometimes life's not fair, Jessie."<br /><br />I feel like I need a hug right now and the only person to hug is fast asleep because it's a school night.<br /><br />I didn't choose to be a nomad. I stayed in Redding. I was married. I was engaged. I was a good wife and an even better fiancé. I learned from my mistakes. I have tried to make family. I have loved with my whole heart and soul.<br /><br />I don't understand.<br /><br />I don't have a bitter heart.<br /><br />I help people.<br /><br />Why don't I sow what I reap?<br /><br />I don't understand it.<br /><br />Why am I all alone in my apartment?<br /><br />Why do I work so hard in school? I work so hard to be a good mom. I’m a loyal friend. I'm a good employee. I do adopt a family. I change careers so I can help people. I pay my bills on time. I don’t live beyond my means.<br /><br />I build people up instead of tear them down.<br /><br />You don't leave from interactions with me feeling inferior, but feeling loved and valued and respected.<br />I try to be self-aware and fix the problems.<br /><br />I am a peacemaker.<br /><br />So why?<br /><br />Why do I sit here and cry when I hear that my brother has been married for three months and no one told me? Why did no one tell me?<br /><br />Why does my mother adamantly tell me for months that she has plane tickets and the day off work and then cancel the week she’s supposed to come admitting it was a lie? No wait, she didn’t admit it, she had a cavity and needed a filling. That’s why.<br /><br />You know, my mom moved to Texas when I was 19, unwed and pregnant. She just packed up one day, took my brother and left. She had purposely never let us meet or know our fathers or have relationships with her side of the family. So when she left, she left me all alone. This devoutly “Christian” woman told me to have an abortion and come with her or stay here and figure it out.<br /><br />I’ve been doing it on my own. I tried being married to his dad, but he was crazy. Literally.<br /><br />I was engaged and I loved him so much, with all my heart and soul. But he was a philanderer.<br /><br />I’m not running away from relationships. I’m TRYING. I’m doing my best. I’m making a mountain out of a molehill in a good way!<br /><br />I even had the best compliment from a stranger that I was truly and genuinely happy. He could see the fruit of the spirit amongst the crowd.<br /><br />So I don’t understand.<br /><br />Lesa has car accidents gravitate to her.<br /><br />I have family leaving or forgetting me.<br /><br />I guess God knew this was my lot and that’s why I was pregnant at age 19? He gave me family? </span>Jessiepaloozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08289933772571108871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2405711069102661143.post-66125892444368900992008-12-25T17:08:00.000-08:002008-12-25T23:52:35.603-08:00Christmas 2008Interestingly I put on a random podcast sermon from one of the churches I like to listen to and the sermon was titled, Pursuing Divine Health. Tonight is Christmas Eve and tomorrow I’ll be going to Catholic Mass even though I’m a Protestant Christian. As you also know, I firmly believe that things happen for a reason. I just picked this podcast at random and this is how it started (I’m going to take a few moments to transcribe the first few minutes).<br /><br /><em>"Many of you know that video the Catholics put out, isn’t that amazing? Wow! John Arnett sent it to me this week… And there was this healing that the Lord’s doing and thankfully in the U.S. Protestants and Catholics get along better than in other parts of the world. And Mexico is one of the places where there has not been a cross-pollenization for whatever, for reasons I don’t want to get into right now. But one of our dear friends and part of our network, Angel, pastors a great church in LaPaz where our ministry is… anyway, Angel sent me a note this morning because he’s been working on reconciliation with the Catholics in the area. He’s been just initiating this, he’s just becoming a Kingdom minded person. And sometime ago he went to the Father and asked if it would be possible if his church, which is not a wealthy church at all, could provide shoes for all the kids in the orphanage. And they did, they brought Christmas gifts. … and what has happened as a result of that is off the charts.<br /></em><br /><em>Angel's note said: Last night they called a prayer meeting. About 3000 people gathered in the gov’t plaza in LaPaz. Most of them Catholics, but many of them other branches of Christianity. We all joined to pray for Mexico in a first time ever event. We had never had Catholic and Christians praying together in our country. But at the end of the event I raised my voice to ask forgiveness to the Catholics because we had built walls instead of building bridges. A great ovation was heard when I hugged the Bishop. It was even more powerful seeing other Catholics and believers hugging each other and expressing forgiveness.<br /><br />I know this is a new day. New things are about to happen here. Revival is here. We are making history.</em>"<br /><br />12-25-08<br /><br />During Mass I went into a meditative prayer three times. During prayer I was thanking God for everything He has given me and asking Him to lay his hand on me. I was asking Him to listen to this choir through my ears. I was asking Him not to let me slip away or worry about things that are insignificant to his plan for my life.<br /><br />While in prayer I found myself with tears streaming down my cheeks. I was not feeling sorrowful. I was not in grief, mourning, or sadness. I was in gratitude! Gratitude indeed!<br /><br />I was thankful of all the ways that the Lord has blessed me. When my family left me, I was given a son, friends and love. When I was in my dire period, burned out from school, work and motherhood and I was pushing away my friends- A new position at work opened up which paid me my same wage with less stress; I was brought to the friends who are genuine and truly my sisters in Christ. I was brought to new friends who have shown me such love and encouragement. I was brought to people who genuinely believe in me and in God’s plan for my life. I was so grateful for all that <em>and more</em>, and because of that gratitude I cried thanks. I cried tears of happiness and blessings.<br /><br />I don't know why I cried, I just couldn't stop. I was oblivious to the people around me, I didn't hear the singing or the priest, I just heard my prayer and the words of my heart. The cry of my heart. <em>The song of my heart! </em><br /><br />After Mass I went with Evelyna and her family to Christmas lunch at the Holiday Inn. They had to go pick up E’s mom and father-in-law, so I arrived at the restaurant about fifteen minutes ahead of them. I sat there with my Bible in my hand and once again, bowed my head in prayer. I thanked God again for all my blessings, I don't think I can thank him enough, He is SO GOOD. Then I asked him to read my heart and see what I longed for. I asked that he would go in and read me and guide me to find the scripture that would make sense to me and for my life. I didn't know what I wanted or what I needed to hear, but I trusted that He did. I asked for something that I could look to when I needed to feel security and to feel reassured that He knows my heart.<br /><br />I ended my prayer and ran my fingers along the edges of my Bible. This is the Precious Moments Bible my mom got me for my 12th birthday. It’s beat up, written on, scribbled in (little brothers!) but it’s my special Bible and I doubt if I’ll ever buy an adult one because this Bible is so special to me. I flipped through the pages a couple times and opened the book and looked down.<br /><br />I opened the Bible to Psalm 63.<br /><br />O God, You are my God;<br />Early will I seek You;<br />My soul thirsts for You;<br />My flesh longs for You<br />In a dry and thirsty land<br />Where there is no water.<br />So I have looked for You<br />in the sanctuary,<br />To see Your power and<br />Your glory.<br /><br />Because Your lovingkindness is<br />better than life,<br />My lips shall praise You.<br />Thus I will bless You while I<br />live;<br />I will lift up my hands in Your<br />name.<br />My soul shall be satisfied as with<br />marrow and fatness,<br />And my mouth shall praise You<br />with joyful lips.<br /><br />When I remember You on my<br />bed,<br />I meditate on You in the night<br />watches.<br />Because You have been my help,<br />Therefore in the shadow of Your<br />wings I will rejoice.<br />My soul follows close behind<br />You;<br />Your right hand upholds me.<br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#663300;">This reminds me of a part of the blog I wrote on Nov 8th:</span><br /></strong><span style="color:#663300;"><em>This woman sings of His love for her with every step she takes because it is His hand which has held her up when she has felt like crumpling into the carpet. It is His shoulder she has cried upon when school and work have found her weary to the bone. It is the heartbeat in His chest that she has listened to when she has laid alone in her bed, lonely and longing. It is His words of comfort that she has read when she just needed someone to understand, looked around, and found no one to empathize. It is in Him that she finds the courage to press forward when the enemy glamorizes the ease of giving up and giving in. It is through His eyes she sees herself in the mirror when the enemy reminds her of the weight she's gained during these years in school, work, and motherhood. It is His value of her worth that she fights for, not the enemy's lies which place her worth in her waistline or in the opinions of men.</em></span>Jessiepaloozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08289933772571108871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2405711069102661143.post-68227634690348035882008-12-24T23:07:00.000-08:002008-12-24T23:08:34.160-08:00Christmas at The OfficeWho knew that I would get my best therapeutic techniques from watching The Office? Yep, I learned alllll about alcoholism and interventions. I thought I would share the wisdom...<br /><br />---<br /><br />if I can skin a mule deer in less than ten minutes I oughta be able to cut my way out of this.<br /><br />this is equal parts scotch, absinth, rum, gin vermouth, triple sec and two packs of Splenda, I call it a One of Everything.<br /><br />an intervention is a surprise party for people who have addictions. You get in their face and you scream at them and you make them feel really badly about themselves and then they stop.<br /><br />when I was in college I used to get wicked hammered. my nickname was Puke. I would chug a fifth of soko sneak into a frat party, polish off a few people’s empties, some brewskies, some jello shots, do some body shots off myself, pass out. Wake up the next morning, boot, rally, more soko, head to class, probably would have gotten expelled if I would have let it affect my grades but I aced all my courses, they called me Ace. It was totally awesome. Got straight B’s. They called me Buzz. <br /><br />Intervention questions:<br />have you ever used alcohol to alter your mood or deliberately change your state of mind?<br />do you sometimes have a drink to celebrate a special occasion or mark a holiday?<br />have you ever, under the influence of alcohol, questioned the teachings of the mormon church?<br /><br />Five fingered intervention:<br />Awareness<br />Education<br />Control<br />Acceptance<br />Punching<br /><br />As it turns out, you can’t check someone into rehab against their will, they have to do it voluntarily, they need to hit rock bottom. So I think I know what I need to do at this point. I need to find ways to push Meredith to the bottom, um, I think I can do it, I did it with Jan.<br /><br />There are several ways to kill a zombie, but the most satisfying one is to stab it in the brain with a wooden stick.Jessiepaloozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08289933772571108871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2405711069102661143.post-41029085994520801782008-12-16T23:24:00.000-08:002008-12-25T22:42:11.872-08:00KE's DreamMy friend had a weird dream and I emailed her about it. I was just digging through a Word file looking for my homework and I came across my response. During the holidays we have a tendency to feel forlorn and miss the people who were significant from our past. So I thought I'd share my email to her about her dream, I'm sure you don't need to know what hers was about in order to find the value YOU might need to take from my reply.<br /><br />It was nice and reassuring for me to re-read too, I almost forgot that I wrote it! Ha!<br /><br />-----<br /><br /><span style="color:#cc0000;">You still love him. Somewhere down in there, you deny it, you don't want it, but you do. But do you really and truly love HIM or what he REPRESENTS?<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />You've been feeling lonely and wanting intimacy.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Our hearts can romanticize the beautiful things in another person because we want what we think they can give us: stability, love, romance, companionship, the knowledge of who we are intrinsically. When we are vulnerable and we are meditating on one specific thing we begin to visualize it in our life. We are willing it to us. We are praying it to us.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />But I think that sometimes our wires get crossed and we inadvertently get confused.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We left them. They left us. For whatever reason the love is unequally yoked. Even if both our hearts are still tied at the soul, in reality we still know it's not meant to be, or we'd be. So in our earnest longing for a love in our life we remember. Remembering fills the void. Remembering is tangible- kind of. Remembering is YOURS and yours alone and the only other person who can share that memory is him, and that makes you close.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I wonder if in your dream you were feeling those soul ties. I wonder if it was your way of calling out to love. I don't know about you, but I love to love. I love the little things that people overlook, I love to think about how I can surprise him and show my love in the everyday... That's what I love. It's not the receiving that gets me going so much, I don't daydream about what someone can do for me, but what we can do together or what I can do for him. I love to love!<span style="color:#993300;"> ***<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><br />You know, I have a sneaking suspicion that you're a lot like me. I think your dream was you calling out to love. Not calling FOR love, but to it. He was that last man you loved.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />And if he is lying there dying, he can love you in return, he can accept your love, but he cannot show it back and you cannot be disappointed. So maybe it is also your heart's way of telling you to let him go. The old love that you hold on to. The old love is the love that you long for deep down. Maybe your heart knows that God has a new love for you. Because it's new it's foreign and you cannot long for it. How do you long for something you don't know? It's love, but it's a new love, a God love, a love more profound that you'll be able to say, "Wow, this was worth waiting for."<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Either way, I think it's your way of realizing that the relationship you had with him is dead (as is he), that you two will always share something that will transcend other relationships (and that's okay & will not degrade your marriage relationship as that will be transcendent on its own), and that you are longing to give love and to be a helper. I do believe that you are growing ready as your soul is crying out to God and to your heart. I am certain that it will be sooner rather than later that your partner will come.<br /><br /><br />For now, REJOICE in your singleness. You know, I've never been on a missions trip and I've always wanted to. My son is almost ten and we already have passports. I wonder if there's a church going for a week, and I wonder how we would join them? Maybe you don't need a man to go on missions with you, maybe you just need a friend. Maybe, just maybe, your man is waiting for you to join him on his trip…<br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#993300;">(***side note*** that's what I remember loving as like... it's been a long, long time... I wonder if I'm still that girl... yes, yes I am... I will always love, I don't know any other way to live my life but through a loving heart)</span> </span>Jessiepaloozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08289933772571108871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2405711069102661143.post-14980172524063197902008-12-03T00:29:00.000-08:002008-12-25T22:50:45.988-08:00One of my infamous emails to a friend:
<br /><em><span style="color:#000099;">One of my friends sent this article to me this morning and I just finished reading it. It totally made me think of you and how you have isolated yourself through fishing. Little comments you’ve made… I don’t know, I think my subconscious picks up on more things than I do and then I attach certain things to people. So please don’t take offence that I’m sending you this. It’s really just to show you what you COULD become if you allow yourself to dwell.
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<br />I do personally know what it’s like to reflect back. I was talking with Kathy the other day about how I pray that God will not bring me a man who is short and skinny (whew, good thing I don’t have any short and skinny guy friends!). She could relate to that feeling and assured me that even if he was a midget God would make sure I was attracted to him. </span></em><em><span style="color:#000099;">
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<br />But I have this tendency to look around at my friends and their respective relationships, and then I inadvertantly find myself thinking about the few past relationships I've had. Then my thoughts take a turn for the worse.
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<br />Guys always want to “own” me. They want to talk on the phone every day, hang out constantly, know where I am and what I’m doing and with whom I’m doing it. They get in the way of my time with my friends and hate it when I spend an hour on the phone talking about nothing. I have to share the remote and watch stupid things like NASCAR. There’s complaining when I want to watch three episodes of What Not To Wear on a Sunday while I clean.
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<br />Is it too much to ask for healthy autonomy? Our own lives and lives together? Lives in Christ and filled with trust, love, understanding and commitment? Not needing to reassure each other all the time, but having a consensus of love? Is that a superficial ideal that I have created to keep people away? Are my standards too high?
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<br />When I look at the relationships around me I feel disheartened because I don't want what they have. They have power and control over each other. I don't want power over another person. I don't want to give control over me. I just want to love and be loved in return. So when I turn and see this "love" around me, I want nothing to do with "love."
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<br />Nothing.
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<br />I’ll promote love for everyone else, I’ll sing the happy song of the wonder and beauty of love. I will encourage second chances. I will point out that there is no perfect man or woman, I will illustrate the value of LOVE. Singing, dancing, rolling in my meadow of change, I will look you in the eyes and I will profess how deserving you are of unconditional love and acceptance, and I will sell you on the opportunity cost of risk… you will leave from our conversation or email refreshed and renewed in a spirit of hope and love.
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<br />But for me…
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<br />Oh for me…
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<br />I will not step on that plank. There are too many sharks in those waters!!!!
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<br />Heck no!
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<br />I don’t know how to bait a shark and then fend him off. I’m shark bait waiting to bleed if I even put a toe in the shallow end.
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<br />Wow.
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<br />I’m such a hypocrite.
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<br />How do I look in the mirror?
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<br />Oh, through rationalization and justification. When I’m done with school I’ll date. When I lose the freshman 15 I gained I’ll date. When my apartment is clean I’ll date. When I finish practicum I’ll date. When God puts His man right in front of me, on my doorstep with flowers and a card that says, “I’m your gift from God and I will not break your heart or try to control you.” THEN I’ll date…
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<br />I bet that sounds familiar to you too…
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<br />Something tells me that while you might not actually think all those thoughts, they’re floating around back there. They are whispering sweet nothings in your ear. They are tickling your thoughts and they are shackling your actions. They are your ball and chain. You are more committed to them than you have been to any woman.
<br />Am I close???
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<br />Anyway, here’s the article that made me think of you. I thought you could get as much out of it as I did. I’m going to re-read it before bed too because I think my subconscious needs to hear it. That little voice in my head sure likes to point out <span style="font-size:130%;">potential rejections</span> <strong>far louder</strong> than any <span style="font-size:85%;">potential acceptance</span>…
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<br />Who am I to give advice?
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<br />I’m as scared as you…
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<br /><strong>OUR COMMON SORROW</strong>
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<br /><span style="font-size:85%;">by Hudson Russell Davis
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<br />Crosswalk. com Contributing Writer
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<br />Like yours, my heart is a library of loneliness, longing to be read, but most people come only to browse. All too often the real feelings go back on the shelf.
<br />— Tim Hansel
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<br />One of Satan’s chief means of crippling us is to convince us in our loneliness that we are truly alone, not simply without a mate but without a friend, without help and without God—forsaken. He whispers that whatever cries we utter are spoken into thin air and deaf ears, both human and divine. He tells us that people do not care and that God does not care, but it is not so.
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<br />Everything that has overtaken us is common to humankind. We all suffer loneliness. We all suffer rejection. We all raise up hope only to know disappointment. This is true of the single and it is true of the married, true under the limelight of success and the clouds of failure. We all know, to some degree, what it is to be misunderstood or ignored.
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<br />This does not mean that our sufferings are not individual, not unique; it means we do not suffer alone. I cannot know the ways you have been cut or the bruises you bear, but I care. We can never truly “understand” but need only love. While it is wonderful if someone understands, it is better if they care.
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<br />Each of us knows a particular sorrow, but we all know the pain of loneliness and the hurt of dreams deferred. We could resolve not to dream, but that is not wise. We could resolve not to feel, but that is not practical. By never speaking we could withdraw from the dangers of miscommunication, but that is not human. It seems so simple—no dreams no waking horrors, no feelings no hurt, no misunderstanding no discord. Isolation is a natural answer, but it is spiritual suicide.
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<br />If we choose not to risk we loose ever so subtly, the sharp edge to our faith. Over time we become people whose lives are as bland as our dreamless nights. Over time we become the boring but safe people who squash the dreams of others and tell them they should be “realistic.” Over time we may convince ourselves that we are the only unhappy souls in the world. We may even come to believe that a tasteless existence is really contentment. It is not. It is a numb, anesthetized, existence that falls short of living. It is a coma.
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<br />Self-deceit would rather ask nothing of God than wrestle with the answers he does or does not give. Isolation would rather resolve to need no one than risk failed relationships—even failed friendships. Because that is what it will come to if we never make peace with the loneliness. If it is suppressed, it may one day explode.
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<br />If ever we withdraw behind our carefully constructed barricades and for fear of disappointment relinquish hope, we shut out wife, husband and all living things. That is the danger—numbness not only to the hopes and dreams we harbored in our youth, but numbness to all dreams and hopes that life naturally cultivates.
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<br />Years of loneliness can warp our thinking and sap our strength. In time we may imagine that over that dune and the next dune is nothing more than sun, sand—and loneliness. So many of you have shared with me you felt lonely and alone in your loneliness. You have been very kind in telling me that my honesty eased your loneliness. I want to tell you that you were never alone. Alone is what the desert makes us feel, but we are not alone.
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<br />Indeed not only do I suffer the same trials, but also many of those you encounter weekly as you suffer in silence. How do I know? They have written and told me—a stranger—what they were afraid to tell you. And you have written and told me—a stranger—what you were afraid to tell them. Perhaps some of you felt comfortable with me because I had opened my heart and because you need not look me in the eyes and fear my rebuke. I have encouraged everyone that they are not alone, but want to add one last charge: break the silence! Open up and let someone in. And if someone speaks to you, listen between the lines for the pain that words cannot express.
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<br />Be a safe harbor for hurting hearts. Paul writes, “Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ” (Gal. 6:2). You may find the comfort you have enjoyed here—in knowing my heart—closer than expected. Perhaps someone near you is waiting for you to break the silence and live by honesty. It is the surest turn in our healing to understand that we are not alone, that we share a common sorrow, a common longing, which is not our own private nightmare.
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<br />It is the Enemy’s greatest tool to cripple us, to isolate us in our loneliness. He then attempts to convince us that all the whispers and all the laughter is about us—that we are diseased or damaged and that everyone we meet knows it. But it is not true. He is a liar and the Father of Lies. There is no truth in him (John 8:44). Our greatest weapon is the faith we have been given in a God who loved us enough to rescue us “while we were still sinners” (Rom. 5:8). Our greatest weapon against the isolation is to confess both our love of God and our genuine longing to a living, breathing, person who can touch us and restore us in love.
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<br />Beware! Not everyone loves honesty. Those who have already given up hope will not want their memories stirred, will not want the embers poked. They fear disappointment. I fear disappointment. For some, who have found peace in simple answers, the complexity of a real God who acts in ways we do not understand and cannot explain will be too much. But if ever the Christian community is to rise above the charge of “hypocrite” we must come out of the shadows and honestly state that we are content but not satisfied.
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<br />Here, I will start: “Hi. My name is Hudson and I am lonely.”
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<br />Now you. ...
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<br />Jessiepaloozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08289933772571108871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2405711069102661143.post-55413745438073183002008-11-08T17:32:00.000-08:002008-11-08T18:33:55.477-08:00Starting from ScratchMy mantra has been my countdown. It's almost like I'm Will Smith in I Am Legend and I'm keeping record of my days in this craphole of a city that was once so beloved and so familiar and is now so desolate. I see the remnants of the life I once had while I stoically hold onto the hope and knowledge that I will be able to put it right again. I am tormented by the awareness that this was all my own doing, the choices I have made, the songs I have sung, the poems I have written.<br /><br /><br />As I walk past a mirror I do not recognize the woman who passes.<br /><br /><br />She is beautiful and confused. She is happy and swirling. She is confident and self-conscious. She is scared and alone and filled with love and friends. She is one woman with so many contradictory thoughts and longings. She is the old Jessica, the one who was married and heavy and insecure and was living an after-school-special. She is the modern Jessica, the lady who was in love and athletic and living a fairytale. She is Jessie, the little girl who the grown-ups said "doesn't have a mean bone in her body." She is Jess, the fiercely loyal friend who takes on her friends' battles on their behalves. And she is a new person. A woman.<br /><br /><br />In a crux.<br /><br /><br />A new identity on the verge of blossom. A cicada nymph ready and yearning to shed her skin, depart from her borough and emerge in the daylight. After years as a chrysalis, I am screaming to be relieved of my cocoon!<br /><br /><br />I daydream of a circadian rhythm. I daydream. I can feel the sun on my face as the romance of my life-past dances across my closed eyelids. I can feel my body emerge from my bed, well rested and happy. I can smell my Madagascar vanilla red tea brewing in the morning as I lie in the dark of my living room before the sun has risen. I can hear the waves, the guitar and the melodic voice of the pilates instructor whispering from my television as I begin my workday before the world has risen. My lungs shudder in the piercing cold of the dawn as I run down the street to greet the sun, a song in my heart and a playlist in my mind. My eyes can see the pavement change from sidewalk, to gravel, to street, to gutter, to overpass, to my front step. My intelligence can remember its freedom of thought during those morning runs when it could run-wild. My derrière can feel the sofa underneath as I sit and snuggle while watching a movie or reading a book. My hands find the idle time used to chop vegetables and experiment with dinner. My teeth chew slowly and my mouth savors my meal. My lips smile as they laugh with friends because they know that there is no agenda for the next day or month and they can just relax and smile. My body is easy in its sway because it knows that its own agenda is to heal and love.<br /><br /><br />My soul lights like a candle.<br /><br /><br />And so I count the months, weeks and days.<br /><br /><br />And I hope and I pray that I don't disappoint myself.<br /><br /><br />But the difference,<br /><br /><br />the one small thing,<br /><br /><br />the tiny, minute, variance<br /><br /><br />of this new woman whose arms can feel that finish line and whose fingernails are prying through the opening in her shell,<br /><br /><br />is that her lungs fill with the cool, refreshing, hope-filled air of confidence in the Holy Spirit.<br /><br /><br />THIS WOMAN is assured.<br /><br /><br />This woman sings of His love for her with every step she takes because it is His hand which has held her up when she has felt like crumpling into the carpet. It is His shoulder she has cried upon when school and work have found her weary to the bone. It is the heartbeat in His chest that she has listened to when she has laid alone in her bed, lonely and longing. It is His words of comfort that she has read when she just needed someone to understand, looked around, and found no one to empathize. It is in Him that she finds the courage to press forward when the enemy glamorizes the ease of giving up and giving in. It is through His eyes she sees herself in the mirror when the enemy reminds her of the weight she's gained during these years in school, work, and motherhood. It is His value of her worth that she fights for, not the enemy's lies which place her worth in her waistline or the opinions of men.<br /><br /><br />This woman, this Jess, Jessie, Jessica, Jessiepalooza, Reindeer Love, this daughter, mother, sister, aunt, friend, student, employee, coworker, princess, child of God,<br /><br /><br />this woman is not going to stop,<br /><br /><br />she will not give up.<br /><br /><br />Remember, she is a lioness, she is in the grasses of the prairie chasing her change and embracing it.<br /><br /><br />She is connected to her feelings subjectively and objectively. She is dualism incarnate. A woman and a child, the past, present and future of her own making guided by the careful hands of God. Quietly listening for his direction, trusting in Him.<br /><br /><br />I am ready to love and to live, and this countdown is excruciating. But my-oh-my, will these lungs fill clean, fresh and true the evening of December 20th, 2008.<br /><br />***after posting this I started listening to a sermon podcast, I arbitrarily chose one on apostleship. Five minutes in, the pastor says this:<br /><br />There are two main ways to know what you're supposed to be doing with your life. The first one is, what do you love? … What you are passionate for you were born to do. And the second way that you know what to do with your life is, what are you afraid of? <br /><br />How many of you know that the dogs of doom stand at the door to your destiny? The children of Israel were supposed to go into where? The Promised Land. How many of you know what they were afraid to do? Go into The Promised Land. What you're supposed to do with your life you'll be scared to death to do. <br /><br />How many of you know that the dogs of doom stand at the door to your destiny? Many of us never enter into our destiny because the devil put the dogs of doom there? Whenever you get close to these barking dogs you know your destiny lies on the other side of that. What you're supposed to be doing, you'll be scared to death to do.<br /><br />Jesus said, "he who wants to save his life will lose it." …<br /><br />-----Welp, I don't know if you see where I'm going with this, but if you've been reading what I've written these past couple of years then you're having an a-ha moment with me. The dogs are barking! They're yelping! So then, I know that I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing, and I gave up my life to save it.<br /><br />Clean, fresh breaths fill my lungs! I will fill my lungs with words of invitation to God.Jessiepaloozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08289933772571108871noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2405711069102661143.post-78767711647038133392008-10-26T22:23:00.000-07:002008-10-26T22:26:36.631-07:00...sometimes moms have a way...<span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#000066;"><em>Most of you remember last September when my mom had her plane ticket, days off work and was going to fly up to see Aidan and me... except that she didn't actually have the ticket or the days off, so she didn't come. That was pretty disappointing, and I will admit that I got the little-girl lump in my throat and my eyes got a little bit wet. Then I got so frustrated with myself for allowing myself that hope. </em></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#000066;"><em>I'm actually over that. You know how much therapy they make you get when you're going into the field of therapy?!?! They don't want you bringing your baggage to the table when you have a client sitting in front of you. But tonight I read a blog that brought some of that up. It a good, healthy, sustainable sort of way. So when I read my friend's blog I felt compelled to send him a message. Then I remembered that I have a couple of you who can completely relate. So I thought I'd share... enjoy!</em></span><br /><br />------------------<br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#663366;">Just don't let the crazy people in your life harden your heart to the good and loving ones out there. Just think to yourself that they are diseased. They may not have a tangible cancer, but their mind is black and that is not a reflection on your worth. Nor is it an example of the others in this world who claim to love you- or those in the future who will love you.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#663366;">Nowadays, we have a tendency toward self-protection and it creeps up on us. It creeps so that we never see it coming. And sometimes some people never even realize it's there. Remember that. Hold onto whatever naiveté you might still have. Cultivate it and grow it. Love it like your lover. Let it grow as you think about how all those people passed you except that one van. Think about how he was probably going somewhere and stopped to go out of his way for a struggling stranger. Pay it forward.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#663366;">Love for the sake of it. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#663366;">Love because your mother doesn't know how. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#663366;">Love because there's extra in this world, since she's so full of hate. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#663366;">Let her have yours. Your hate. Shrug it off, don't own it, let her have it because you refuse to give into it. Let her have the sorrow of losing a wonderful man from her life. Because as you grow your love, you will be rich and she will be poor, and she will envy your riches.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#663366;">My mom is similar to yours, but worse. Mine loves me. No. Mine pretends she loves me. She tells me she loves me. Then moves to Texas when I'm 19, unwed and pregnant. Mine loves me. She calls and tells me so. She calls and tells my son how much she loves him. Then she tells him how I ran away from home when I was a teenager and that if he ever needs to leave she will be there. My son was 7 when she said that. But my mom loves me. She tells me so. She sends me Hallmark cards with flowers and poems and sappy crap. That means she really, super loves me. My mom loves me so much that she was never here when I was despairing and needing a mother, rather I had a sofa, an empty apartment and my arms wrapped around my knees because I just needed a hug. But she loves me, and because she tells me she loves me so profusely, I forget not to believe her. I forget until I'm crying again.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#663366;">Sometimes I get angry and I wish she would disown me. Because I grow my love goshdarnit. I grow it because I refuse to let her have it. I choose to love her. I'm better than her. When I tell her I love her, I mean it. When I cry in a disappointment in only tears she can elicit at the ripe ol' age of thirty, I mean every tear. I feel each one. You know why?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#663366;">Because I love.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#663366;">Because I choose to love.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#663366;">Because I am hopeful.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#663366;">I am not hopeful she will change. She is diseased. You can't cure that, only mask the symptoms. But I am hopeful. I am hopeful that I will raise my son to know how to love and to know how to hurt. I will raise my son to know that hurting is human and because it's SO WONDERFUL to love, you have to accept that sometimes the consequence is pain. But to cut off the pain is to dull the love.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:85%;color:#663366;">And why dull something so joyous? Love like you're a little kid and your mom loves you and the sun is shining and the bluebirds are singing. Love her like that through your anger and pain and frustration. Just don't let her know it. Don't let her exploit it. Don't let her abuse your love. It's YOUR love.</span>Jessiepaloozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08289933772571108871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2405711069102661143.post-57100885625514398222008-10-11T22:28:00.000-07:002008-10-26T22:30:24.275-07:00Reflecting<span style="font-family:arial;color:#993300;">I am cleaning and listening to podcasts from services I missed (like my bday & fresno dome trip), and one thing the pastor said was that Jesus said "if you have not left everything then you cannot be my disciple." </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#993300;">Do you remember, two years ago when I wasn't going to church regularly? It was Thursday, November 16th 2006 that I left Adam. It was two weeks later that I got that email from Lindsey that made me decide to cut her and the rest of that group from my life. So it was the first of December that I left it all. Mid-December I went to church with Matt & Anna and then in January I start going every week to The Stirring. February I applied for National and March I started school. I left my dreams of moving up in business banking. In October I had that near-death experience, and it was that day that I feel I died. I did. I died that day. The me who I used to be, the me who I had always known. I still think back to that day and get a lump in my throat and praise God because as scary as it was, it was the best thing that could have ever happened to me. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that was His work.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#993300;">I had been talking on the phone about Matt & Anna, and Billy & Heather's relationships and how someday that's what I wanted. I had never been around people my age who were in a relationship and it was God centered. I didn't have friends like that before, my mom didn't model it, and I was so excited talking about how all the ideas I'd had of my future partner were dead because THIS is what I wanted someday. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#993300;">It wasn't the house or the handsome, tall man. It wasn't the stability of our joint income. It was the love of God. It was the compatibility of each other and the mutual desire to make God the center of the relationship; rather than focusing on each other or ourselves, focusing on climbing the social ladder and being better than the Jone's. It wasn't a narcissistic love, but a whole one! It was the best kind of love triangle! I don't think anyone in that group of friends I once had knows how to do that or what that looks like, and so I didn't either. How would you be able to see that you were missing out on something so great if you had never witnessed it before?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#993300;">So I left it all.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#993300;"> <br />I left the only man I had ever loved. I left the only friends I had ever loved. I left my sense of belonging. I left my dreams of career. I turned my back on all of it. And without purposely connecting it, I turned toward church and toward God. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#993300;">I answered the longing I had in my heart my whole life. I went back to the 15 year old crying after youth group because she wanted to know God more, and didn't know how. I went back to the little girl who loved church and hated to be late. I went back to the innocense I had before I "grew up." </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#993300;">I didn't know what I was doing back then. I didn't see it (although the whole church did as I sat alone in the back and cried every Sunday for a year). Isn't hindsight so 20/20? It's so true.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#993300;">And so I keep growing in God. As I told you the other day, I am so thirsty! It's not even like the blogs I've done about the fire in my veins, it's a thirst or a hunger. It's different. It doesn't spark when I'm in church, it's just ever-present and it's growing. Heck, I'm listening to sermons on podcast while I get all OCD cleaning the top of my fridge (which you KNOW is looooong overdue). I am counting down the days until I'm done with school (69 days!) and I can start practicum. Because then I will no longer be on standby.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#993300;">I really see that everything is happening in His time. If I had not left my friends and my love, I would not know the feeling of isolation or abandonment (you still feel abandoned even when you are the one who leaves). If I had not loved, I would not know that I know how to love and how wonderful it is to risk. If I had not left my life I would not know to appreciate my life. If I had not done all that I have done with work/school/mom over these two years, I would not know my strength and stamina. If I had not struggled I would not know my cheerleaders! And I have so many, and I am SO GRATEFUL! If I had not struggled, I would not know gratitude. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#993300;">And I am learning every day how to let go and put my life in His hands through faith because He has already been so faithful. Even when I'm in self-pity over my exhausting schedule He gives me teachers who see the burn-out and cut me slack! </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#993300;">Looking back, I have gone through some scary and difficult times and transitions, but I see that they were all necessary. A coworker told me yesterday, "Jessica, you are the most patient person I know." And the old Jessica would have scoffed at that comment because it would have been an outright lie! I have learned patience. And fortitude.<br />And I learned this because I left everything.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#993300;">-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#993300;">Hey, do you have any favorite sermons that especially touch you? Something I can download and listen to? Jamie told me her favorite from Bethel, but there are so many to choose from on my church's and hers that it would sure be helpful to hear about others so I don't have to listen to every single one!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#993300;">Ok, I'd better get back to cleaning! I've created a bigger mess than there was to start out with! I'm sure that can be used toward an analogy of some sort. Happy Saturday!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#993300;">J</span>Jessiepaloozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08289933772571108871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2405711069102661143.post-39211430939937724302008-09-24T01:01:00.000-07:002008-09-24T01:02:38.868-07:00I am Jessie...i post this again...<br /><br />...to serve as a reminder to myself...<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#660000;">Something inside me is burning. It's welling up and it's forcing its way out. Out of my heart, out of my mind, out of my soul; it consumes me. Through my fingers and from my tongue it spills. It is toxic. It is killing me. It is killing the self-defeating me. It is inspiring me. It is working itself around in my veins. It is lovingly purging the ghetto of my mind, it is repainting and repairing. There is no where to run; no where to hide. But in all its glory it pulls me from the shadows and allows me to bask in its truth. In all its love it burns me from the inside-out. It seeps from my skin, smelling sweetly. It is not me... and yet... it is the essence of who I am. And I am Jessie.</span>Jessiepaloozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08289933772571108871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2405711069102661143.post-12832602043192627452008-09-22T22:02:00.000-07:002008-09-24T00:33:53.939-07:00Ode to My Friends<span style="font-family:georgia;color:#000066;"><em>I've always loved God and was a Christian. But I never felt this passion or fire for my faith as I have this past year. I never would have talked about it openly, and now I feel that when you just look at me it's written all over my face and it pours from my lips. I feel like honey is the trail I leave behind when I walk because I am so blessed.<br /><br />I feel like the Exodus. I feel like I have journied far and wide, and I feel like I have sand in my toes. I feel like I have been accompanied by wise friends, lost souls, merrymakers and dissenters. I feel like I am finally confident and free and able and willing to tell someone no, and I am finally vulnerable and loving and understanding to tell someone yes. I feel like in this last two years I have learned the true meaning of unconditional love.<br /><br />There's a fire and I'm burning.<br /><br />In three months I'll be set free. I'll burn my village and build a new one. I'll climb to the mountain top and ignite my love into all the stars, because I don't know where else to put it. I will slowly control it, and learn to love through the melody which is my love. I will learn to harmonize my fire and my flame.<br /><br />No rain can cause this to smolder and die; no onslaught, no barrage, no tumult is too great! When I fear that His "love spreading agenda" is too powerful for me, and I am too small; my flame is fanned by my friends and their love.<br /><br />Out of the woodwork they come, one at a time... filling me with their encouraging words and faith.<br /><br />When I feel lonely or disheartened or overwhelmed, they stand up and shine a light on my path so I don't lose my way. When I fear my road is too arduous, they take my hand and walk with me so that I don't look too deeply in the woods, losing myself or my goal. When I feel like this task is too monumental or I am unqualified to be who God has designed me to be (us all to be), He has His gentle way of reaching into my heart and showing me my posture. He has His way of filling my heart with His love. He fans my flame.<br /><br />And I am so blessed.<br /><br />And I am so loved.<br /><br />I am unworthy.<br /><br />I am humble.<br /><br />I love God.<br /><br />I burn. </em></span>Jessiepaloozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08289933772571108871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2405711069102661143.post-55794274997128479112008-09-10T00:31:00.000-07:002008-09-24T00:32:37.777-07:00Beautiful Struggle<span style="font-family:arial;color:#ff0000;"><strong>That is true, no one is perfect. The beauty is in our struggle. Our struggle to do what is right and to be true to ourselves and our higher power. To be true to our intuition and to our gut. Our struggle to fall and then to face the music. Our struggle to repent and to stay that way the best we can... and if needed, repent again...<br /><br />The beauty is that we are imperfect, and that we don't have to be perfect to be good and loved and loveable.<br /><br />The beauty is that we try.<br /><br />The beauty is that we keep going.<br /><br />The beauty is that we are beautiful<br /><br />and we are beautiful because we struggle so beautifully...<br /><br />... and it is only by grace...<br /><br />and<br /><br />...I need all the grace I can get because <em>my beautiful struggle is sometimes so ugly.<br /></em></strong></span>Jessiepaloozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08289933772571108871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2405711069102661143.post-68023887964806354702008-08-17T23:29:00.000-07:002008-09-24T00:31:07.256-07:00An Abundance of Blessings!<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:85%;color:#330099;">So two months ago, I was so stressed with school, work, little league, etc. that I was on the verge of a breakdown. It had all just accumulated to a point where I just couldn't do it. I physically could not understand the words on the page. I was a zombie. I think it was the most difficult time in my life so far...<br /><br />And then I got to have a month off school to start practicum. And now I've had these two easy classes. And remember, I said the next four classes are going to be really hard (equivalent to the last ones that had me in pieces). I just got that email saying it's going to be on independent study and I'll only meet three times for the whole month and that will end at 7pm.<br /><br /><strong><span style="font-size:100%;">HOLY JESUS!</span><br /></strong><br />He just keeps blessing me and blessing me and blessing me!!!<br /><br />Aidan will still be at his dad's til 10pm. So I'll have that time to do homework, clean, work out, find a practicum site, whatever. Then I'll only have three classes left of the hard stuff. After all these months of recovery, I'll TOTALLY be able to do those three classes just fine!!!<br /><br /><br />I have just recently learned out to give it to God and then forget about it. Is that 'true faith'? So then I've just come to a place where I've really learned to be truly faithful? I don't know, but He is sure showing me what that means and how awesome he is when I do it! I have totally just given my schooling up to Him because I know this is His plan for me. I have to stop 'leaning on my own understanding' (the topic tonight at church), and LOOK! LOOK!!!!!!! NO CLASS NEXT MONTH- mostly... YEAY!!!!<br /><br />Jenn House told me a while back that when she thinks of me, she thinks of a little girl in a party dress with her heart in her hand and no matter what comes along I just don't give up or give in. I keep standing there unphased in my party dress with my heart. She said that she aspires to have that sort of innocense and determination (I wonder if it's more of a naivite), and that it's just that which God favors and blesses. I don't really know... but I sure feel blessed right now!<br /><br />It's like, my heart is happy!<br /><br />And a person doesn't really have control over the happiness of his heart. You can talk yourself out of feeling bad, and you can feel better. But you cannot force a happy heart!<br /><br />and it's like, I know that He is blessing me, and I know that it's not ME, and I want to pay it forward or pay it back or share the love, and I just don't know how. So then it feels all bottled up and waiting to explode, but it's a joyous explosion! Confetti of the heart! Spiritual radiation- hiroshima of happy! And how odd and awkward to have that inside me, and not know what to do with it.<br /><br />Do I skip?<br /><br />Do I leap?<br /><br />Do I sing terribly offkey, and yet beautifully to His ear while I spin in circles with my arms outstreched?<br /><br />Do I jumprope til I fall?<br /><br />Do I find a trampoline?<br /><br />Do I run and run and run and run?<br /><br />What do you do with it?<br /><br />Do I sit in thankful prayer? Do I sing His praises to my friends and contemporaries?<br /><br />Do I accept His blessings with thanks and keep Him in my mind, heart and works as I go throughout my day representing Him?<br /><br />Wooo hoooo!</span>Jessiepaloozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08289933772571108871noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2405711069102661143.post-64985473074347558812008-08-02T10:27:00.000-07:002008-09-24T00:29:00.335-07:00Reimbursed<span style="font-family:verdana;"><strong>Another story of how cool God has been to me:<br /></strong></span><br /><span style="color:#003333;"><em>I bought groceries for this guy.<br /><br />I was really torn if I should buy them. I changed from salary to hourly and the bank's crazy math meant that my next check would be missing FOUR DAYS of pay on it. Helllooooo, I'm a single mom in grad school, I can't afford to lose four days of pay!!! My friend Lesa had been in town and I really, really wanted her to read The Prayer of Jabez because I thought it would be really applicable for her life right now. I couldn't find my copy so I ran to Barnes to get her a copy. I didn't even think about my budget, I just wanted her to have it. It's like $10, it'll be fine.<br /><br /><br /><br />Then I get there and this guy is standing in the parking lot, sleeping while standing. Like, he was on that movie Rat Race and he fell asleep while walking. I smiled a big smile as I drove by (hey, it always cheers up my day to get an authentic smile from someone, those don't come around very often) and thought to myself, I just made him happy. I know, I'm silly. And then I park and get out of my car and he was already there! Developmentally disabled Sonic the Hedgehog? In his stutter he started telling me that he could tell I was a Christian and he's a Christian and would I buy him a sandwich.<br /><br /><br /><br />While he's talking I was wondering, "how do you tell one of God's broken from someone who is just trying to get something from you? How do you tell if they are broken because they are one of God's needy, and they're broken because they are bad?" And as he was talking I just decided that I'd get him a sandwich, it'll be fine. Then he wanted to go to Hometown. I said no, I'd get him a sandwich at Barnes. Then he asked that instead of buying an expensive sandwich that wont fill him up if I'd get him some groceries.<br /><br /><br /><br />I was like, "what!"<br /><br /><br /><br />I said I would get him the sandwich. He proceeded to tell me how he can eat several meals for the same price if I got him sandwich fixings at Food Maxx.<br /><br /><br /><br />I told him, "Fine, you walk over there and after I buy this book I'll meet you there." It's just not safe to let people in your car, it's not too far for him to walk. After I got the book I went over. He wrote me a list. what! a list?!<br /><br /><br /><br />So it just had bologna, hamburger buns, gingerale and little debbie snack cakes.<br /><br /><br /><br />Instead, I got him grapes, peaches, bananas, wheat bread, meat, cheese, chips and ginger ale.<br /><br /><br /><br />Anyway, as I was taking his list and grabbing a cart I thought the words, "I'm losing four days of pay, I don't know if I can buy groceries for my home, much less for someone else!" and then, "Whatever, it's the right thing to do and God will take care of it." I didn't consider it again til I got to the checkout and then I thought those same things again.<br /><br /><br /><br />When I handed it to him he thanked me and told me that he doesn't eat fruit. I told him that fruit is our gift from God and if there's anything in the bag from Him then it's the fruit. He thanked me again, looked up and thanked God, and then said, "God, bless the woman who has done this for me!"<br /><br /><br /><br />So then the next day my cavity abscessed and I had a puffy face. The day after was payday and I looked like the Elephant Man ("I am not an animal! I am a man!"). I checked my account online and it said that it was about $17 more than normal. NOT short four days, and overpaid by $17. I called HR and told them of their error (I don't need them taking it out later in the pay period!) and they offered to spread the deficit over four paychecks. That wasn't an option before, they were taking it all out at once. If the money hadn't been in there I would have been short.<br /><br /><br /><br />AND THEN, on Thursday the dentist was able to get me in for the root canal and it was $46 LESS than what they had quoted me. The groceries I bought that man cost me $46.<br /><br /><br /><br />I went out to spend money I didn't have on a book to encourage Lesa spiritually, ended up spending another $46 on that man and now I was reimbursed through that discount and the paycheck issue is being spread out!!!<br /><br /><br /><br />ISN'T THAT TOTALLY AWESOME!!!<br /><br />That man looked to the sky and asked God to bless the woman who did this for him, AND HE DID!<br /></em></span>Jessiepaloozahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08289933772571108871noreply@blogger.com2