One of the best parts of Summer Magic is wishing on these…
I remember when I was a kid I took every opportunity to blow these as hard as I could and make a wish…. Did you ever do that? What did you wish for?
Tag Archive: hopes
…so tired of feeling like I can never tell the truth…
…so tired of holding back most of what I think and feel…
…so tired of protecting everyone from myself…
Please let me be free.
Please love me for who I am, not who you expect me to be.
My husband has coined the phrase wild goodness to describe things that are good in a major way… sometimes even in a dangerous way… like a walk in a storm, sex on the beach in the middle of the day, a large sum of unexpected money… something that touches you on a primal level and speaks to the goodness and wildness that is God’s love for us. We try so hard to fit God into a box, to make him fit within parameters that are comfortable to us and when He doesn’t fit we get discouraged, frustrated and afraid. I know I do. I want God to be predictable and stable and quiet and unobtrusive; but I am glad He is not those things. Deep down, I am glad He is wild and dangerous and good in ways that are beyond my comprehension. I am glad He is a God of Passion, a God of fierceness, a God of untold beauty and strength… a God of storms and sex and roller-coasters… a God of music and art… of lovers and warriors and dancers… a God of grace and peace… I want to live a life of wild goodness… of abandon. God help me to see You as You are.
I’m not ok, I’m not ok, I’m not ok… all I can think is I am so broken and ruined and worthless.. Life isn’t supposed to be this way. I am in so much pain. I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to think, how to feel. I think I am going crazy! I can’t get my thoughts together. Please help me…
I felt the temptation to cut again yesterday stronger than I have in years. It’s so frustrating… I thought I was past this… Some days the pain is just too much and I want some relief. The thought of a sharp blade was so comforting and alluring…like a siren’s song. I don’t want to go down this path again. I decide my future, and my future is not drowned in numbness-walking through life like a zombie. I want to feel and be alive and real. I want a life of honestly dealing with my emotions not running from them to booze or blade or drugs or sex or danger. I want to breathe in every second of this precious life – even the parts that are painful or frustrating. I want to be alive. Please, God, help me…
Talking to my mom today sent me into a tail-spin. I hate that I am so afraid of being “found out” like I am doing something wrong and have something to hide… I hate that just speaking to my family on the phone has the power to make me doubt my past and begin to see it through their eyes. I came from a family of “brush it under the rug”. They are great at pretending that everything is ok and we’re not really broken in the extreme. Most of my life my dad yelled and screamed and belittled all of us and my mom just took it and let us take it.
I remember one night when I was a little girl, my parents had put me to bed. I got up to get a teddy bear off my shelf to sleep with and had curled up in bed and was just drifting off to sleep when my dad burst into my room, angry. He asked me if I had gotten out of bed and I told him I had gotten up to get a bear to sleep with. He asked me if I had left the room and I hadn’t. He then accused me of sneaking out of my room to watch through the cracked door as my brother changed clothes. He was crazy angry and accused me of lieing when I denied this. He beat me with a belt so badly I had whelps from the backs of my knees to the small of my back. He was in a blind rage. My mother came in afterword to ask me if I had done this and I told her the same thing I told my father. She told me it would make things better if I apologized to my father and just said that I had done this thing he accused me of. So I did and my dad pulled me into his lap and hugged me and told me he loved me. I don’t even know why, to this day, he would think I would be watching my brother dress or undress or why it would have been a big deal as we were both very young… I was about 6 and my brother was about 9-10.
When I was a teenager I confronted my parents about this and they both denied the whole thing and told me I must have imagined it. My whole life they have managed to make me feel crazy… Now I just want to live in truth and not brush anything else under the rug. I am through pretending. I long to walk in the sunshine and feel the warmth on my skin. I long to live in truth. I may not be perky and happy all the time, but I am real and alive, and that is so much better to me.
I was taking a shower today and staring at the shower head thinking about the time we had to change it. Then I suddenly remembered that there was a huge gaping hole on the other side of the wall. Changing this shower head was supposed to be simple… just unscrew the old one then screw the new one in place. Like most things in life it got complicated quickly. After trial and error we had to cut a large access hole into wall in the adjoining room to repair the problem. These repairs were taking place at about 9pm on a Sunday which meant we didn’t have much time to get the job properly done before we had to give up on it for the night and just rig it up and go to bed. Well now a month has passed and I had managed to completely forget that this huge hole existed. As long as the shower functioned properly and I didn’t have to look at the hole it was not a part of my reality. This became a metaphor for my life… I find that as long as I am functioning on a day to day level – as long as I can go to work, pay my bills, put dinner on the table, clean my kitchen, spend time with my husband – as long as I can do these things I fool myself into thinking that the gaping hole in my chest doesn’t exist. Then something horrible happens… something wonderful… my husband looks at me and says, “You don’t have to pretend here.” And I am suddenly aware of this wound. I feel it and allow myself to be broken for a moment. Just that small reminder that I am seen, that I don’t have to hide… It’s painful and wonderful at the same time. I usually don’t allow myself to feel this pain. I just gloss over it and pretend to be ok, to be happy. Something amazing happens in the middle of it all, though… Through the safe release of this pain… I find that under it I really am happy… that I really do believe everything will be ok eventually and I don’t have to rush through this healing process… I can give myself permission to be. There is so much grace in that realization.
An unfathomable sadness
has settled over me
blanket-like.
Its pain sears my chest
like a hot knife,
scarring.
I shrink away from words
and faces – I shrink
to you…
You-awaiting me beyond shadows
waiting in secret
my love.
In need of somewhere to settle
my restless emotions
ceaselessly search.
Longing for understanding
I cry out
(in despair)
I cry out silently and hear
my fears echoing
about me.
In an agonizing torment
I realize I am
alone.
Why this sad loneliness
this dull ache
these tears?
I should rejoice in your love –
instead I weep
I weep.
When I was a teenager I read somewhere that, according to an old Indian legend, butterflies could grant you your lost innocence. This thought obsessed me. I began to truly believe this. I longed for the return of what had been stolen from me so cruelly. I already loved butterflies. They are so beautiful and so fragile. Their lives, though short, seemed to have more meaning, more purpose, than mine. It may sound silly, but I began to pray for this encounter, for this miraculous return of my innocence. For years I longed to feel the butterfly’s kiss and have my healing at long last. One day, walking through the woods, I was admiring the filtered rays of sun touching the ground in a plethora of small pools on the ground before me… praying once again for my healing, for this blessed encounter when, in a flurry of wings, a butterfly smacked me right in the face! I felt my heart burst within me. I laughed, flung out my arms, and twirled in the dappling shadows. I cried with joy. No, I didn’t receive my miracle… at least not the one I was expecting. I’m not going to tell you that my innocence was restored or that the hurt in my heart just floated away to be filled with blessed light. I didn’t suddenly let go of all the pain and fear that haunted me… none of the things I wished for came true. So why did I laugh until I cried? Because in that moment I felt God’s promise come into my heart and fill the emptiness I had been trying to desperately to ignore. He told me then that I would be healed, that my heart would soar again and that the innocent joy I had been seeking would find me. In one moment, alone in the woods, faith filled me and my search was over. I am still healing, I am still journeying, and I am still full of hope. I have found my joy and my innocence waiting right where I left them. I still fall into despair, but at the sight of a beautiful butterfly, God reminds me all that He has promised me will come to pass and my faith is renewed.
captivatingbitter 