Phoenix Year

A phoenix represents rebirth, magic, safety, transformation, permanence, inventiveness and sacredness of life. Rising from darkness into light…

As with all, I have reflected on 2022 and what a year it was! It started going one direction then it took a sharp right turn in a completely different direction. I am okay with that because I learned so much more about myself. I gave up fears and accepted realities. I challenged myself to stop procrastinating and moved forward with my dreams and aspirations. It reminded me of a quote ” The only person you are destined to become is the person you decide to be.” ~Ralph Waldo Emerson. Well… now it’s time.

I am titaling 2023 “My Phoenix Year!” I am going to touch on each representation of a phoenix and how it represents something in my life or where I see this year going. It’s already day twenty-five of 2023 and things are already changing. I think it is funny how we celebrate a new year when we have the previous years crap still trailing us, like we expect January 1st to have this mega reset button to clean the slate… we need to stop, look around and see what we are going to do with all that stuff and how to reroute it, then make the reset happen. I never make resolutions. Goals are important to have if they are attainable ones. I don’t set myself up to fail, so I usually keep things to myself, that way if I don’t make it, no one else knows I have failed. Now onto the task at hand. Writing, what I do best.

Rebirth: to be reborn, first we need to die. “Dying to self” biblically states that the old self dies and the new self comes to life, we take up our cross and follow Christ. dying to self is part of the process of sanctification. Therefore, dying to self is a one time event and a lifelong process. Mythology, a phoenix, bursting in flames from its predecessor, keeps rising from the ashes over and over. I feel like that every year. my little beak at the beginning of a new year just peaking up out of the ash once again. I have had to die to self once again and now waiting to see where I need to go from here. I look forward to that moment of stretching my wings fully and shaking off the old ash and start anew.

Magic:There is nothing more magical than a grandchild! Seeing the world through his sweet, innocent eyes. All things are new and exciting. I want to see through those eyes again. I want this year to be full of days with him and be in the moment, not stressing about the things that bog these old eyes down. I’m still young and want to enjoy every moment I can with him. He makes life so fun. Yes, the best magic is that grandbaby.

Safety: It is said that a phoenix has the ability to lift strong trees and fly great distances. Their wings can be protective shields and they have the power of regeneration. They do have weakness, like all living things. An arrow can take it out and it is afraid of heights and will not fly too high for fear of falling. HAHA! I have that same fear! But knowing that a warm hug or being wrapped in a shield to protect is reassuring. Now I am not expecting a real life bird to come out of nowhere and do all these things, obiously. I am speaking metaphorically. I’m not that crazy. I think of my family and my friends when I think of this. I have a great support system around me, who I love and adore. I see them all in this role. Nurses and docotors that I need are part of that ‘regeneration” roll, they are not going to magically replace my limbs but they are there to get me where I need to be. At least the new ones I’m seeking will. I hope. But it is nice to know that even a mythical bird has a weakness because we all have weakness in us.

Transformation: A radical change… This year I have to make new decisions that will affect me from now to my future. I spent four days in the hospital for something that should have been addressed a long time ago. I learned that an issue I thought was one thing ended up being completely different, yet part of my disability. confusing I know. When I think of transformation, I think of physical transformation. In this case, not so. My transformation is more psychological. I have finally come to terms with the reality that I need external help. I cannot live in my family home, I need to find resources and ask for help. Something that is not easy for me to do. I have had to admit to myself my hang-ups about things. i.e. just because i’m the oldest daughter, it’s my job to make sure my mom is cared for. She is a healty sixty-seven year old woman who has her own things going on… she doesn’t need me, plus I have two brothers that are here to help… and do! It’s time for me to live my life and not worry about being available for my adult kids. They are fine! It is time for me to take care of me. I got nothing else to give, pretty empty. Hence, dying to self!

Permanence: dependability, continuance, fixity. I think this one will have to wait. I am not there, yet. I think once I have my new place to live in and have the recources in place, then this particular representation will come to me.

Inventiveness: This one isn’t too hard. I have been loving the fact that on Dec. 31, 2022 my first novella was published through Amazon Kindle. I have enjoyed writitng all year and making that dream come true. I have learned that I can accomplish something if I really set my mind to it. That’s a huge catalyst for 2023. To keep that writing momentum going. I also fell in love with Diamond Art, something to pull me away from the chaos of every day life and focus on a different type of art. Taking me out of my headspace. I still love to read and enjoy my music, so plenty to keep me occupied.

Sacredness of life: The phoenix really is a unique symbol. it’s interesting to round out with this, but it makes sense. If we die to self and are reborn, being able to sustain life and how we live it really says a lot about how we want to reset our new year. I need to really understand what this means. I was researching this topic and there is a lot! Like lists on how to sustain and live a sacred life; whether religiously or other means…I will choose my faith, My devotions and My Bible for the answers I seek.

I see myself rising and rising. NO more darkness, only light. I know it isn’t going to be easy and I will stumble a few times, but thankfully I know I can rise above it and will soar, eventually. I will shake of the ashes and be reborn. I am looking forward to 2023.

Moms vs Dads

This past week I had to watch a young man I love dearly lay his father to rest. Losing a parent is tough no matter what age the child is, but a young man in his twenties should not be worrying about the things he’s had to endure: let alone plan a funeral. Once again I am faced with that strange emotion: Grief.

I feel like the older I get the sappier I am! There has been a lot of loss these last few years and not just in my family. It is horrible to admit this, but I needed to pick and choose the funerals I went to, there were just so many that I was getting so depressed and worn down and sad all the time. Like a gloomy cloud was following me everywhere I went. I felt like “I’m sorry for your loss” or “My condolences” was robotic and not heartfelt. Not a good feeling.

Back to the topic…

Losing a parent is very debilitating. You’re confused and lost those moments right after you’ve been told, “their gone.” Memories flood through your mind like old reel to reel black and white movies (for this generation, it may be a vhs movie tape on rewind.) You try and remember the last coherent conversation you had with them, did you tell them you loved them when you left or hung up the phone? Was there some task you were supposed to perform for them and didn’t get to it right away because you didn’t have time? Time, not promised… that’s for sure! I started to once again break down grief, understand it more.

I don’t believe there are levels of grief. Death comes in many forms and one persons grief isn’t any higher or lower than another, there is no scale. I do believe grief is measured in how much we LOVE! If we love hard, we are going to grieve hard! That brings me to my title.

I am a mother of three adult children, two daughter’s and a step-son. I never understood how important the roles each parent played until I became one myself. A mom’s role is the sun and moon, she creates, she nurtures and feeds, she makes the house a home, she kisses and fixes the boo-boo’s, she is love and the glue that keeps the family together. But our dads… they are our provider, our protector, he prepares us for the world, he is our first best friend and our first superhero! Most are giant children themselves so mom’s really have their hands full. That is how we become who we are by the way they serve these roles. There are a lot of single parent families where one parent is pulling off dual roles and then there are the ones that step up when the biologicals fail. Still, we grow from what we learn from them.

When I lost my dad, it felt like I couldn’t even breathe. like he was the one that told me how to do that, stupid, I know! Basic functions seemed impossible, Like, how am I going to get up and face the day without him in it! Even though I’m an adult, he still was walking ahead of me clearing the path, making it safe. His voice was the one I needed to hear when I did something dumb or broke something, his laughter made my day. My protector when I was sad or scared- gone. Now who do I call for direction? I think of my young nephew, he is now in front, he is on that path without his compass, he is the man of his family now. That pain, trying to move forward with that grief. I want him to know that it is not all in vain. He got all the good qualities. His dad taught him to be a hard worker, honest and kind. He is fun-loving and full of life, just like his dad. He has an infectious laugh and a smile that lights up a room… and jokes! Again, like his dad. I hope he can see that the reason it hurts so bad is because he loved so much. Holding on is okay and letting go only when he is ready. There isn’t a timeline for grief. I told him I hope he LIVES HAPPY! His dad would want that. He was proud of his son. I am thankful he is close to his mom, as I mentioned before, she is the one that kisses those booboo’s, and she is still nurturing and loving him. I still have my mom and make sure to enjoy all the little moments I can with her, it is hard some days because she and I are a lot alike and we butt heads, drive each other nuts, and annoy one another. lol. I know I won’t have her forever. I just pray my own children think of me with fond memories and can one day write how they feel or felt about me.


I decided to sit at the window, usually I tuck myself in a dark corner and hide from the world, ignored and forgotten. I’m looking out at the dismal foggy day. The cold wind and rain matched my mood. I sat and listened to the buzz of people coming in and out of the coffee shop, everyone coming in at lunch to fulfill their expensive guilty pleasure. I’m no different than any of them. I’m imagining the cheap cardboard cup is my favorite mug from home. I wrap my cold hands around it to warm my outsides as I take a sip of my four dollar hot caramel macchiato blend to warm my insides. Laying on the table in front of me is a notebook and a pen. Today is the day I confront a demon of sorts. I have trouble talking about certain things and my therapist suggests doing what I do best… write it out! It was suggested that I write a letter to the person that hurt me, address it to myself, then send it in the mail to myself.

 My writer’s group does a monthly prompt and this month we are to write any type of prose but the title has to be the word “Acrimonious/ly” I figured i’d kill two birds with one stone. Here goes!


To You, 

Most mornings I rush around with my routine. I shower, dress, do my hair, and teeth. Done! I don’t linger long looking in that piece of glass. Because I do not like the person looking back and I haven’t for some time now. I don’t want to see the scars you left behind. Today, however, I will look deep into each mark left by you.Today I will look in that mirror and look at the terrified woman you created! My eyes do not hold the same bright luster of years gone by. They are now shielded, guarded. My smile isn’t as wide and carefree as it once was, now it is forced so no one will ask, “are you okay?” My shoulders are slumped over and tired, no longer do I stand straight with the confidence I once had in myself. I made a choice one day and I have paid dearly. That choice was meeting and trusting you. I threw caution to the wind and thought you were who I was supposed to share my life with. I built concrete walls for a reason and you seemed to care enough to take the time using my faith and loyalty to family; you hammered and chiseled your way through that armor I placed around myself to protect me from such evil. YOU. you used the very thing I loved most, church, prayer, and the Bible and your own kids to lure me. Until all that was left was a sheer sheet of fragile glass, you got me in a vulnerable state. In one night you tapped that glass and shattered it to pieces! Now I’m raw and bare, left injured, black and blue. Broken! I could not nor did I have time to cry, I had to save myself and another that I unwittingly had with me. I had to get us out! I was thankful I was not a weak woman, as I saw it for what it was and I knew not to let it go. I took the appropriate measures, so I thought, only to have that last line of defense fail me. No, I had to defend myself and move forward with what shred of faith I had a hold onto. What you did was unthinkable, unimaginable, and unforgivable. I have hate in me now. Now I can’t trust. Because of you, the thought of someone innocently touching me or trying to hold my hand, or a simple hug makes me cringe and fold into myself. I have lost my sense of peace. I have no desire to let anyone come close. The disdain I have for you alone is not healthy for me, yet I cannot find it in my brain to accept that it was all you and not something I did to bring on such a vicious act of violence towards my being. Your savage act of betrayal has me looking over my shoulder wondering if some stranger walking by knows that I have a scathing, venomous and malicious thought process in my head. If he walks up to me, I’ll take him out! I learned how to shoot a gun, I no longer can sit with my back to crowds and I learned how to protect myself… funny, though, the devil ended up being someone I trusted, someone that waited until I physically could not defend myself. It was you, you were the evil I allowed in. I despise you with every fiber of my being and those thoughts I have towards an innocent stranger is how I think of you. I imagine the most horrific things happening to you without a care of judgement on myself. I don’t know how long it takes to heal from something like this or if I can. I just know you should not be allowed to breathe the same air as I do. I truly believe in Karma at this point but fear it will come back on me if I do not let this go. My faith says I need to forgive… I am not there yet and I’m not sure when I will be. We’ll see if this first step is the right step.


Me, you know who I am!


How do you describe family? Do you only see blood? Do you share your life with those who have come into your life…and stayed? Have you been someone that opened your heart and home to another, then became their family? I have a large extensive family. My dad was number three of six and my mom was the oldest of six siblings. My grandma came from a large family and I was raised very close to all of them, so a lot of first, second and third cousins were around, over the years we have spread out and don’t see each other as much but I’m always excited to see them when we bump into each other. My immediate family is me and my two brothers, our mom and dad raised us to have a strong close relationship which is still true to this day. I married into a very large family. He was number five of seven and most were already married and he had a lot of nieces and nephews. It was a culture shock. They were a fun, crazy lot but I didn’t feel welcome at first, large Italian families you sort of need to go through hell and back with them to earn a spot at the table. I love ’em all to death and wouldn’t change a thing! I used to make the joke that once you spawned their child it was like being married to the mob… once you were in, you were in! In all fun, but seriously they have welcomed me and loved me even after divorce. There are a few I think the absolute world of, even named my firstborn after one. Lol.

When my kids got older and involved with extracurricular activities I was excited to see them flourish amongst their friends. I wanted to be the mom like my mom when I was a kid. Everyone came to the empty lot next to our house to play kickball, baseball, hide-n-seek, etc… my mom was there with the cheap sandwich cookies and juice, she even joined in on the games every now and then. My ex and I were on and off for many years, but I got lucky that he was a giant child and kids loved being around him. We were trusted by other parents… I think. LOL. He coached their softball and basketball teams, so there were kids around us a lot! I was okay with that because if they were with us or just me I knew they were safe. It was during some of these times I found out not all kids had it good at home. I knew then, very early, that if my girls brought someone into my home they were going to be treated as one of my own and loved, unconditionally. I had to learn to listen and accept who these kids were trying to be. In this state of my life there were things of the world I wasn’t ready to accept, but did my best to love ’em to pieces no matter what. I always say I have two biological daughters, my son came by way of stork; but about twenty others in total through my kids, working at the high schools and alternative schools. haha.

I also have friends that have been closer and know more about me than blood relatives. I have laughed and cried with them, shared family milestones and just celebrating life with them. DNA doesn’t determine family to me. If you are invested in someone enough to get to know all the flaws and quirks or you take the time to call and text in the middle of the day just to see if I am alive or to say “hey,” you’re my family! I have opened my home to a “stranger” that became like a sister to me. I miss her dearly as she passed away young from breast cancer. There I had to learn to trust my instincts. I swear to this day my youngest should have been her wild ass child. Those two were two peas in a pod. In our time together she found her soulmate, moved out had a family and flourished, but as I said…she was taken too soon.

I hold on tight and I know this. I just don’t want those I love to ever feel alone or unaccepted for who they truly need to be. I may not have the physical abilities to do things but the last time I checked the heart is a pretty strong organ and can hold a lot. I feel I have a large capacity in mine. I guess in retrospect to this post, how do you see yourself amongst your peers and bio family? I hope one of my purposes in life is to be a good listener and a shoulder for anyone who needs family.

Understanding the Pain

Now that you all have an insight into me a little more, I am confident in sharing more personal struggles. It isn’t easy to bare one’s soul, it’s even harder to let others in to see and understand the physical pain I suffer from or its effect on my mental health. I have wanted to start a Rheumatoid Arthritis support group for so many years. I couldn’t believe the people I’ve met that also suffer from the physical pain, unable to find resources, find the right doctors, and medications. It’s frustrating! I haven’t done it because I don’t feel qualified.

I call my bad days “sick days” because it is just easier to say I’m sick than going through a long boring explanation. Hahaha. These days that’s not wise as people now assume I have covid and go into a rant. My inner circle knows the code and that’s what matters most, I guess.

On these days it’s not just a small pain that ibuprofen takes care of and in a few hours I’m good to go. No, on these days I’m struck down…debilitated! My RA is in 90% of my body and pain is every day. The pain is just on different levels. I like to describe level one as if you were to stub your toes on that hard end table and the worst pain as being in a horrible train wreck and in traction. My medication is not a cure but a tool to help me function in my day-to-day activities. Pain relief is the hard stuff, so, I don’t get any of that until I am so bad and am bedridden. They don’t allow me to keep that on hand. I sort of check out on these days, I am unable to get out of bed on my own, I need help with the smallest of tasks i.e., dressing, drinking from a glass, even eating a bowl of cereal hurts my hands. I am useless! There is no cure for RA, I was told in the beginning (the ripe old age of 19) that I would be in a wheelchair by the age of 35. that I’d probably be in some kind of assisted living by 50. I have eluded both! I’m not going to lie, my biggest fear in life is being in a wheelchair! I am actually ashamed of myself admitting that, that I am embarrassed at the thought of using a cane or a walker let alone be wheelchair bound. I’ve been told my pride is a double edged sword… on one hand it helps because I’m too stubborn to give into the pain and keep going yet on the other hand I don’t know when to or will ask for help when I do get real bad and end up worse off. Then it’s too late.

I have been on my own for a long time, to say I’m independent is an understatement. I was married for five years and then we were off and on for seven more years. I did date a few times but nothing came out of those relationships. In hindsight I was never comfortable with my physical inabilities and my mental health to be a good partner to them. I did my best. I had the mindset “I don’t need a man!” or I’d get defensive when they would want to “help” me with something, I’d be all “I CAN DO THIS!” That is not fair to anyone who is just wanting to be there and I couldn’t be kind and accept it. I guess I felt it was a coping mechanism of some sort. Relationships with friends has been hard, too. One, I’m the only single person in the groups and two, they all are outdoorsy people. i.e. hiking, fishing, kayakers and all that. NOT ME! hahahaha. give me a movie or a night out listening to a band, sitting down. It is sad, I loved to dance; I used to shut the clubs down dancing all night long. I knew the latest crazes and even learned a few country line dances (I am not a country fan, rock is where it’s at for me.) I used to be the life of the party! I’m lucky now to make it through a few songs and to get up and down from the seats at the venues. The world is not handicap accessible, I have to find a way to be able body acceptable. Breathe in and suck it up! I want to join my family and friends in the adventures as much as I can, unfortunately that isn’t the case all the time. lol. My best friend is always wanting me to go kayaking with her. I am always laughing when I tell her “Absolutely NOT! I am not going to get in that tiny death trap water grave thingy! I can’t swim, I am unable to get down inside those things or get out…” she’s like “you wear a life vest and ours is raised up, like a chair.” Laughing more, “So I can tip over easier! NO THANKS!” I choose my battles and that is one she is not going to win! The whole “Fear not for I am with you!” well… God gave me a brain and I’m not testing my guardian angels for this one. I don’t use my disability as a crutch, either. I have never used it to get out of plans or appointments, unless it is for real and I cannot move. Sometimes I’d like to, but do my best to still be in the moment and spontaneous.

My inner circle knows the cues and the hints. If I am missing in action for a long period of time then most likely I’m having an episode, If I am out and enjoying life, it isn’t that I’m not suffering; it’s me pushing through and living. I want you readers to understand that a lot of people have struggles. Some show physical signs and some don’t. Be helpful. Don’t get upset that someone in front of you in a line is slow and clumsy or get irritated because someone isn’t maneuvering their wheelchair or automatic device smoothly. Be patient. Just because you can’t see a disability doesn’t mean it isn’t there. Like me, they are probably embarrassed or unsure. Be kind!

Falling Away Part IV


“What you leave behind is not what is engraved in stone monuments, but what is woven into the lives of others.” -Pericles

Last week I turned the big 5-0, where most people dread hitting that half century mark I embrace it with great gusto! Ten years ago I was diagnosed with cervical cancer. I remember that moment as if it were yesterday. I was sitting in the waiting room of a dentist office while my oldest was getting her wisdom teeth pulled. My phone rang and when I answered~ the poor nurse on the other end “thought” I knew my doctor had informed me of the possibilty of a test coming back positive… I was like “what test?” and “positive for what?” She couldn’t hold back now. I was like “SPILL!” The second she told me I was positive for cancer the air seemed to be sucked out of the room. In my mind, I was going to die the next day. Horrible things went through my head – My oldest just turned twenty-one and still in college, my youngest was a senior in high school. Two very important times in their lives and I find out I have cancer! WHY? I forgot about my faith, my positive outlook on life and just shook my head in defeat. I hung up from that call and did my best not to cry in the office. I didn’t know how to tell anyone; my poor family has already had to deal with my other health anomalies…

Then a nurse came around the corner and asked “are you ready?” It was like one of those movie scenes where a person seems to be on a conveyor belt and is fast tracked to your face. I shook it off and realized what she really said. “Mrs. Wilhelm, she is ready!” meaning my daughter was finished. That brought me out of that stupid frame of mind. Why am I writing this? I seen my life flash before my eyes, my beautiful family and my friends. I’ve spent most of my adult life battling the RA, in pain daily. What were they going to remember of me? What legacy was I leaving behind? My biggest fear is to be forgotten and remembered as weak, fragile and broken.

I love the arts. I mean ALL of them. I can touch on a few, but am not proficient. I was taught to play instruments, to read music but the only instrument I’m really good at is the radio. I love to draw and paint, I’m not bad but not going to be in any shows or galleries anytime soon. Musicals and plays are fun but I am horrible at memorization so acting is out. Writing is the only thing that gives me peace, I have a passion for it and now it has given me a platform. A platform to express myself, a way to entertain, a way to connect and something to share. A small fingerprint to leave behind.

Now with this new purpose and a new outlook I say bring it on! No more dwelling on the things I cannot do, but it’s time to work on what I can. I need to stop thinking and just doing, let the insecurities go. Listen to the positive feedback and move forward. I will be working toward publishing my stories, finishing my novel and getting it all out there. I AM TERRIFIED! But I’m going to do it! I want my grandchildren to know that their Nana isn’t worthless. That there is more than a disease. I want them to know that I was kind and chose forgiveness, acceptance and happiness. Most of all I want them to know that I loved unconditionally and wholeheartedly.

How do you want to be remembered?

Falling Away Part III


Proverbs 19:21 “Many are the plans in a person’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails.”

There are 7,868,872,451 [as of Jan 1, 2022 (U.S. Census Bureau)] people in the world and we are told that each have a purpose, a reason to be on this earth. So, what is my purpose?

In the last post I mentioned how a friend and a kitten got to me! Did my friend know she was going to have a message for me, probably not. she was expressing to me how God had blessed her, how she prayed and asked for His wisdom and in a whisper it was there. After telling me her story -the dismal, rain filled dark clouds in the sky opened up and a beam of sunlight shone through. Pure Majesty. Once I got back in my car and alone, I felt the tear stream down my face. I had been blessed in that moment. My heart had hurt for so long and I knew what I had witnessed, had accepted it for what it was. For all I know that small moment could have been her purpose, so small yet so huge at the same time. Does our purpose have to be loud and noticeable? I don’t think so. Some are born to stand out and be noticed, while others are just quiet and go unnoticed by the world. We all play a part to make this world go around, I haven’t felt like i’ve been doing any “part” at all. Having a disability that takes away my mobility has me feeling less and less of a human being and that i’m just existing. I am unable to physically work and I keep trying that route~ instead I wake up, turn a tv on or read a book, play a game on my phone, eat then go to bed; every day the same as the day before. What can I be used for? Pretty petty and selfish, right? Writing is something I have been doing since I was young. My mom gave me my first diary, then a real journal and encouraged my love of reading and writing, but that is where it ended. A bunch of poems and stories started in different notebooks sitting in a tote or on a shelf. Forgotten. It wasn’t until a few years ago that I even thought about letting someone else read something of mine, let alone submit it to a contest, but I did. I was encouraged again by another unlikely source; she herself hadn’t submitted anything, yet she is just as good. God opened another door and I didn’t walk through completely. I had to procrastinate for another year. haha. No, it wasn’t time yet. I needed another contest and a new perspective on things. I had to have a fangirl moment and meet an author i’ve read tell me how to publish my work. MIND BLOWN! a whole new world opened up. PURPOSE! I now have purpose. My body may not work, but my brain still does.

I am not a confident person when it comes to me but I can be a huge support or cheerleader for others. I love to see my friends and family shine. I love to lift them all up, encourage them to be who they are meant to be. I always thought that that was my purpose. I was content to sit on the sidelines and be happy for them; sort of. I was never told I couldn’t do it, never told I was dumb or stupid. I did have an English teacher and a band teacher tell me I was lazy, but never stupid. What I did come to terms with was that I was afraid of success, not really lazy. Crazy isn’t it? It is actually more common that most know. If I succeed then the expectations are higher. I don’t like to let those who love and care for me down when in hindsight by not living my full potential I’m doing just that. My purpose being snuffed out by my own insecurities. I love to write, I love to make people smile, I love the idea and the hope that happiness exists in all we do, in all facets of our life. I feel my purpose is to write, to spread joy through the written word. Now I have something to look forward to when I go to bed at night, to dream of a story that will lift someone’s spirit up. To wake up and either with pen in hand or keyboard fired up and ready to go. Now I’m ready to leave a legacy…

What is your purpose?

Falling Away Part II

The Reluctant Believer

“The sky is falling, the sky is falling!”

I was born in nineteen-seventy-two, Vietnam was ending and an unforgiving world was getting broken men and women back home, i’m sure for them hell wasn’t too far from thier minds and they probably thought or hoped the end was near. maybe not in the biblical sense, but still…

War has been a part of our history since the beginning of time and so has been temptation. Our human flesh being tested and tested over and over. lol. The Bible and the “moral stories” there to guide us to do the right thing. I have to touch on this because I am no different than anyone else. I do my best to be a good, faithful Christian but I am not a theologin with all the resourses at my fingertips nor do I claim to be. I know what I know which is my own heart and head.

I know Jesus exists! I have physically seen Him! Children are not wired to lie or make up outlandish stories at the age of five, so the account is legit, epsecially for those that were there that day; now I wouldn’t understand this for a few more years or so to understand the impact He had on my life. I heard his voice when I was fifteen, telling me “It wasn’t time, yet” during another precarious incident in my life and I felt Him holding my hand during the two scariest moments in my life. I knew it was Him because no one else was in the room. I have witnessed miracles within my own body that science and doctors cannot explain. On all accounts, I should not be here writing this piece. YET, I still question. WHY do I do this? I should be screaming from the mountain tops of His existance, His love and mercy. NO, I shy away like a mouse. Jonn 20:25 “The other desciples therefore said unto him, We seen the Lord. But he said unto them, Except I shall see his hands the print of the nails, and put my finger into the print of the nails, and thrust my hand into his side. I will not believe.” Good ole doubting Thomas, thats me! Then I think about Juda, who betrayed Christ and Peter who denied Him. These guys walked with Him, broke bread and were there listening to Him first hand. I don’t have a chance!

Touching on this is important because I have a theory as to why the last few generations are fed up and done with holding onto the Christian values and beliefs. The sky is always falling! in the eighties it was the Afghan war, Lebanon. The nineties brought in the gulf war, Bosnia, then Y-2K had us all paranoid. There were “signs” that the second coming was soon… for decades and still with the latest pandemic! Every pastor preaching the end is near and picking apart different passages in the Bible, the signs about the end times and how we all need to find and get right with Jesus. I am not too sure it works that way. I have known Jesus my whole life, it wasn’t until I was forty when I decided to have a personal relationship with Him. Just because the world is going to shit does not mean it is armageddon. No one knows when he’s coming back. Matthew 24:36 “But of that day and hour no one knows, not even the angels of heaven, but My Father only.” The sky is falling, then nothing…The world falls back into its groove and now all those against the Bible are doing the “I told ya so” dance.

Then you have the ones who need to physically see a miracle firsthand. As if the armageddon falsehoods aren’t enough. I think to myself, oh dear one I pray it isn’t a life threatening experience because those are scary and painful lessons. I don’t go too deep into this because that’s not what I want. Spiritual debates are for those way smarter than me. I touch on this because I want to get to my third installment. Purpose.

I am still a believer. I love my Father in heaven. I just get so overwhelmed with all the heaviness I allow in. I’ve been kicked down to the point of knees and hands being imbedded in the gravel, there are scars. This last time when I was down and couldn’t get up, he knelt beside me and whispered, “well kid since we’re down here we might as well pray!” He then sends the most unlikely person with a message. A friend and her kitten! Yes… a kitten. I listened. I cried. I submitted.

Part III coming soon…

Falling Away Part I


Matthew 18:1-5 “Unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”

I had an idea for a piece but I didn’t have all my thoughts together until this past Sunday. It was my second Sunday back in the pews of church. I realized I needed the last two Sundays to finish my thought process, to clear my head space, and to get past the anger in my heart. I had to wait for it to be in His time, not mine.

It wasn’t a normal Sunday, the church was doing something fun, Christmas in July with a dinner and a sweet treat for us all. A special six year old and a piano solo. It’s times like these I know I’m in the right place at the right time. Music has always spoken to me and today was no different. As that little girl bravely and proudly made her way to the piano with her instructor by her side, her family following her to the front of the church to lend their support. She held her sheet music to her chest while her golden curls bounced around her shoulders. She climbed on that bench as if she had done it so many times before. The first chord was strong and went to the core of my being, emotions hit me and I immediately started to cry. Not even knowing what the song was yet, because her sweet little voice could barely be heard over the power in her hands, but once she softened her hands she sang “Amazing Grace” to her hearts content. She stumbled a bit as she is only six, like I said, but her instructor was right there to guide her. She was swallowed up by the size of the baby grand yet I think she felt her families love and support because she kept on playing like a little Beethoven. No fear. It was magical and not a dry eye in the room when she finished. The little church erupted into applause, she stepped down from her perch and smiled a huge smile.

Childlike faith, innocence.

I am reminded over and over how I am still a child of a wonderful, forgiving and loving Father who has always been by my side. I keep letting the heavy world beat me down. I have people tell me that the only reason “people like me” choose faith and the Bible is because I need something to take my mind off my inadequacies. The Bible is just a moral compass filled with feel good stories to get me through a bad day. I laugh because obviously there is more to it than that or there wouldn’t be so many out there trying to discount or break apart those who believe. I mean why would those others need to exist if God didn’t?” There are others smarter than me that can go down that rabbit hole. I call it the “teenage rebellion” stage. Where I have let the world sneak in and take away my childlike wonder. This four part piece is my testimony. Me finally letting it out and telling my story, to understand what is to come. I hope you enjoy…

That Bump and Grind

I titled the blog the bump and grind of daily life, yet I haven’t been sharing. Haha. I started a new job recently and a crazy thing happens when I do. The weather always does something be it a tornado on my first night, a snow storm making it difficult to get to the place and I have some kind of health issue, ie pneumonia, RA issue or even an unplanned surgery within my 90 days. This new adventure started out just like all the others. My second week of training we got a snow storm. I had a cancer scare but turned out to be all okay and them my first night flying solo on the job… car died on me. 11o’clock p.m. I am tired, hungry and cold. I go out in the bitter cold night, turn the key… nothing!!! My head is screeching and screaming. I am so mad! I do not have a lot of men to contact. It’s also late and at this age even the men I know are down for the night and are not going to be happy that I’m calling at that hour. On a cold February night. Thankfully someone was able to help, in the form of my ex-husband. It seems to be a dead battery, really dead! Now for my pandemic plug. Due to the pandemic Wal-Mart is not opened 24 hrs anymore, in the old days I could have went right over and bought a new battery, put it in and on my way. Now I have to wait for someone to be available and that I’m not putting anyone out. I hate to be an inconvenience to anyone. Hopefully this is all the car needs. The humbling part of this is not just the car issue but the fact that I can call upon my ex and without any complaint, he was there to help me. I am blessed that I had someone I knew and trusted so the night wasn’t completely terrible.