You don't have to hide any more.

First, I lost my weeping spot somewhere in Michigan in May of 2012.  Now a year later, I'm stepping out of my hiding place.  While I've lived here in Pedlo, I've been divorced, remarried and divorced again, spent 8 days in the state hospital, watched both of my kids graduate from high school and college, and got my daughter married off to God's best.  All during which I was gainfully employed somewhere or another. 

A Sparrow's Song....

There are two items that have been clipped to my pencil/crochet hook holder for many years:  the wristband from my time of admittance in the Arkansas State Hospital and a laminated cartoon that a friend sent me. 

If I had my way, I would never leave the house.  I'm weird like that.  I keep everyone at a distance.  Everyone.  Even God, and He's the one that's loved me all my life.

Why do I hide? 

Evil is the absence of God.

As darkness is the absence of light, and cold is the absence of heat, so evil is the absence of God. 
~Albert Einstein (paraphrased)

1 Peter 5:8
Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour.

Oh the evil that lies within the heart of man. 

He's not joking.

So Lot went out and spoke to his sons-in-law, who were pledged to marry his daughters. He said, “Hurry and get out of this place, because the Lord is about to destroy the city!” But his sons-in-law thought he was joking.

Genesis 19:14 - God was not joking then, and He is not joking now.

She's a bit of a tyrant....

ty·rant

   /ˈtaɪrənt/ Show Spelled[tahy-ruhnt] Show IPA

noun

1.  a sovereign or other ruler who uses power oppressively or unjustly.

2. any person in a position of authority who exercises power oppressively or despotically.

3. a tyrannical or compulsory influence.

4. an absolute ruler, especially one in ancient Greece or Sicily.

 

 

on writing....

My fingertips rest in their spot on the keyboard.  I must will them to move.  I know I'm a writer because I suffer the worst writer's block ever.  You see, if I write something down, someone will read it, and then will come the ridicule for thinking my own thoughts and having feelings of my own.  Why am I struggling so?  Are those that would ridicule finally gone?  Their presence remains right here in my head.  Their voices have not been silenced in my heart.  The time has come to speak over them and to erase what their words have written on the tablet of my heart.

Proverbs 3:3
Let love and faithfulness never leave you; bind them around your neck, write them on the tablet of your heart.

processing

My niece killed herself on Tuesday. She was 33 - my step-sister's youngest daughter. She'd been walking the path of self-destruction for many years. The signs were all there but no one stepped in to intervene. Were we meant to? My heart aches in a way that cannot be described. She didn't tell anyone, and she left no message for those she left behind. She just didn't want to live any more, so she made sure she succeeded this time by putting a bullet in her chest as she drifted off. Six years ago, she took way too many pills and wasn't found until it was nearly too late. Her lips and fingers were blue so she was barely breathing when they found her. She convinced us then that it was an accidental overdose and not a suicide attempt. Obviously she had been suicidal for a long time, and none of us realized or considered it's severity. Are each of us that loved her partially responsible? Perhaps. None of us wanted this for her, but it was something she wanted for herself. If we had known, we surely would have stopped her. I'm sure that's why she didn't tell anyone.

Such sadness. Such a tragic loss.