Fireworks

Well we've passed the Christmas, and survived! Imagine that. And now it's already time for the present year to end and the new one to begin. Now I know what most people think of when you say 'New Year.' They can't help but think of those sad little clay-mation (how exactly is that spelled..) movies with a big-eared baby crawling around the world while weird people that can't walk normally chase after him to save us all from not having a new year or something. At least that's what I think it was about....I don't know, but where exactly Rudolph fit in there, I will never know. It was a very confusing movie to say the least. I'm thinking maybe the animators of it could have been recovering from some spiked eggnog of sorts when they made it. It's a possibility. I do like those corny claymation movies though. It's like those dogs that are so ugly, they're cute. Because they're so corny, they're funny.

I wonder if people still try to make New Year's resolutions anymore, or is that a thing of the past? I don't keep up with them really, they don't seem to make much difference anyway. Though I have heard rumors that gyms get hundreds of customers for about a week or so after New Year's, only to have them stop coming a few days later. Such commitment I tell you;) It's a curious thing, that people make an inkling of effort to evaluate a smidgeon of their life and want to improve it, but don't usually see it through. Kudos to the ones that do. It really is a brave thing to want to change a pattern in your life and work to do it.

We're all creatures of habit in some form or another....we eat the foods that we know we'll like, we go to the places we normally like, watch the shows we normally like, listen to the music, buy the clothes, and round and round we go. But it is difficult to stop a pattern in your mind and retrain your brain to go a different way. Hopefully it's for the better, and not bad patterns that you're creating:) It definitely is hard though.

I'm sorry to say that every year when that psychadellic ball drops in New York, I am usually asleep. If I'm awake, I'm usually not interested in watching it anyway. I think when you've seen it once, you've seen the general gist and it can lose the excitement. It did for me anyway.

I wonder if it's the best way to celebrate a new year.....going to the parties, or events, or watching the special on tv.....or maybe not. We should celebrate the end of the year and coming of a new one obviously, because God has blessed us to live for another year! We've survived the wild jungle of life for 12 months, that is always something to be thankful for. But I just wonder what would be the best way to prepare ourselves for the new twists & turns ahead. Probably the same way it's best to prepare for everything.....pray. Pray about your work, your problems, your school, your friends/family, your dreams, your weaknesses, your strengths.....pray about every little thing. Who better to lead you into the unknown future, than the author of life, who carries your future?

One thing I do like about the New Year festivities, are the fireworks. I love fireworks. I think they're fascinating. And they explode. Legally. In different colors even. How cool is that? When I was little I used to wonder how people made them and how all those little light fragments could shoot off into so many different directions to make a beautiful shape. So neat to watch. Ofcourse not everywhere has fireworks for that I guess, more so for the 4th of July. But still, I love to see them:) It would be a neat thing, to think of our lives as fireworks......we're given the ingredients and tools to do something bigger in this life than we can think. Just like people put all the right ingredients into making and planning a fireworks display. We've all got different colors and shapes, and we shoot off into different directions from each other and at different times. But when we're obedient to God, he get's us ready and teaches us how to use all the things He's placed inside of us so that when that time comes.....BAM! He shoots us high into the stars, so we can burst in the pitch black sky with a magnificent array of lights. So high that it's noticeable from a long distance away and everyone can see. Then everyone is left wondering how all those icky ingredients, those trials in life, could make something so stunning. That would be neat.

So here comes the New Year! Let's pray that the Lord will take all the grimey trials we go through in life, and make us burst through them...exploding into the sky and showing everyone in the world how His light shines inside us. Happy New Year!

Christmas Chaos

Well today is Christmas day. Amazing that the year is already over and it feels like it just started yesterday. I just can't catch up to it I tell you.

Now ordinarily I would never have time to sit down and write something on a blog at Christmas because our holidays have always been so full of chaos that there isn't a second to spare. Ever since I was little, we would all open the presents we received on Christmas morning and then you'd have to race to clean up the house and run out the door to visit relatives. The same group of relatives in fact, all of us going from house to house in something resembling a cattle drive. I don't think anyone ever stopped to think how silly it was really....going to see someone, knowing that they were coming over your house a couple hours later. Not much sense in that at all. But there it was, a little carousel of tradition that no one would ever dare to question, because no one was to go against family tradition. But since we're disowned from that family, now we're free from those decrepit old traditions that did nothing but exhaust everyone who had to clean & prepare food, taking all focus off of the actual meaning of Christmas to begin with.

Sadly, even with just a few of us, we can make traditions all over again that will only continue to keep us looking at the over commercialized Christmas that everyone is supposed to have. You walk through the stores and what do you see? The zombie faces of people killing themselves trying to shop for everyone on their list so that they can keep the whole world happy and not ruffle anyone's feathers. Is that really important? Why do we have to buy each other presents at Christmas? If we want to buy something for someone, why not just buy it and give it when you want to? Why do people make lists of what they want others to get them? I think I've become completely sour on it to tell you the truth. Kids don't care what Christmas is about, they just want what's on the list. What a great thing to teach a child....Christmas = presents. Yep. Can't see that doing any harm to a child.

And there's always the food. You must have certain kinds of food at Christmas or someone's angry eyes will surely make an unfestive appearance and most likely create more stress for the one who was so bold as to not make it. Turkey. I hate turkey. I'd rather have chicken or steak, if we're talking meat. How about some Christmas pizza? Oh, let's just live on the wild side and make some dang quesadillas. Come one, live a little people. And that stuffing. In a box. Or better yet, the age old recipe of someone who died a good number of years back but was kind enough to leave the "secret" ingredients to their precious stuffing. Folks, let's be honest....they probably keeled over from eating that stuffing too much. That stuff is gross. And the vegetables, ok vegetables are good for you, obviously I've never been on good terms with them but ok. Except collard greens. What is that?! Does anyone know? It scares me, it's like an unidentified alien form of seaweed that tries to pass itself off as some high powered vegetable that all old people believe will somehow heal every ailment. I wouldn't touch it with a 50 ft pole.

And there we are.....the neverending cycle of Christmas "traditions" that keep going on all over the world, right beside the rock hard fruitcake that will outlive us all. Gee, what a lovely way to remember holidays huh? Mmm..maybe not so much.

The reason why I'm rethinking the whole psycho-cycle of holiday festivities right now is because I've actually been able to feel what it's like to stop all of it and realize what's important. I always knew that we were supposed to be celebrating the birth of Jesus, an incomparible gift to us. But yet, that cyclone of craziness really prevented me from thinking about it on Christmas for more than a couple seconds in between visits and present giving. Isn't He the Prince of Peace? I wonder why we want to celebrate the peace He gives with absolute chaos. I don't know.....but I'm very thankful to be able to think about all that He's done for me on this awesome day. And I can lift up some worship to Him, which will honor Him more than running around like a chicken with it's head cut off. Maybe I'm finally seeing firsthand what it is to truly celebrate Christmas after all, by offering God the gifts that He so richly deserves, with my time and joyful worship of a mighty God. I am completely penniless at the moment. I mean, if you opened my wallet, the only thing you'd see in there was a little tumbleweed rolling by. So I can't buy gifts for anyone......but life goes on even though I can't get everybody something special. It's about giving to the Lord anyway isn't it? So maybe my gift giving is exactly how it should be after all, giving my heart to Jesus and giving His love to all those around me:)

I hope anyone that may read this will understand that I'm not saying any of this to bash people for doing their Christmas traditions. I only want to challenge others to step off the chaos carousel and listen. Listen to the voice of the Lord calling to people, wanting to show them His true heart. Have a most blessed and peaceful Christmas day!

The End Of An Era

I am coming to the end of a Florida era. An era of endless golf carts and over-abundance of elderly people that look like they could water skii with the best of 'em. Where the winter clothing consists of short sleeve collar shirts and light rain jackets, and people talk of how it's beginning to feel a lot like Christmas because the temperature got down to the 60's. Brr. These people are hardcore.

I'm wearing my Rudolph t-shirt right now just to be festive:) But in all honesty, it's kind of thrown us off with our seasons....seeing Christmas lights up on the houses and hearing the classic holiday songs played on the radio, while also walking by people who are still wearing shorts. Weirdness. Not a bad weird though. Not to me anyway, I fully appreciate the warm.

Yes, I definitely do NOT have any complaints about the warmer weather, no sirrey-bob. I have not missed wearing 3 pairs of socks and still having suspicions that under those layers, my toes were still blue. Or going outside to get something out of the car and having to dress like the famous overly-layered kid from A Christmas Story that couldn't even wiggle his arms. Yeah...haven't been in a hurry to get back to that. And how can I forget the smiling while your outside, only to feel your teeth hurt cause the freezingness somewhere sinks into your teeth and causes some kind of brainfreeze (only teethfreeze..) That's always fun. But the best thing of all is when you get a sniffley nose and you can feel the runnyness literally stop midway down. Why? Because it freezes. That's right, as if you don't look attractive enough, with a red face and chapped lips...and stacking so many coats on that you could put the Michellin Man to shame while you waddle around...you also have snot freeze on your face. "Eww!" you are most likely saying right now. But I'm sorry, that's what happens. It's not a pretty sight.

So much to look forward to! Yippee! I can't wait to experience absolute numbness in my fingers:) I mean, who doesn't? I know I'll enjoy it for sure. In fact, I may just invite some friends to go to the mall with me so we can take off our hats and watch the mortified faces of children as they witness our atrocious hat hair. It really is an experience. One that I'm sure you would enjoy;)

Ofcourse, I can take the unforgettable memories of seeing a golf cart collision between over-eager old people trying to gunnit through the intersection. Those little speed demons, they were probably hitting 30 on those things. Next thing you know they'll be catching them doing drag races in front of Walmart. Then again..who's to say they aren't already doing that? Hmmm...

I will really have to pray for more patience while on the trip back, because on the way here I thought I was going to wear the honk off the horn. And I don't know about other people, but I realize that for some crazy reason, I must subconsciously think that they can hear me yell at them through the windshield. You could look me in the face and tell that they can't hear me, but for some reason I feel like I should try. Maybe THIS will be the time when someone actually does hear......but I did keep the shakey fist to a minimum. That is something to be noted. I feel like I should've gotten a sticker or maybe a cheap bookmark that says, "I can control my shakeyfist!" That would be nice.

So the countdown is nearing an end to this wild Florida era filled with big bugs and lots of spanish music. But I hope that in all this craziness that we've tried to share with our fellow Americans, we can somehow take from it a bit more wisdom in what the Lord is teaching us and how to keep the joy He gives us, even in the trying times. So long sunshiney state, it was a blessing to know you:)

And just to point out, runnyness is a word. It's new. Thought that should be said...

Dance of the Dragonflies

Well to update from the last post, I did end up putting a couple songs up on a new page. We'll see how that goes, but so far it's been pretty interesting.

Much has been stirring in the past weeks...we will now be leaving from the summerlands to journey back up the coast to Virginia, where we are originally from anyway. It was definitely an adventure to leave where we had lived all our lives and rarely left for any real length of time, to set out to the mountains of VA for a few months and then trek down to Florida. I do enjoy the warm weather down here and will miss feeling the sun nearly everyday that I stepped out of the house. Such a treasure to be surrounded by the beach and bay and watch boats cruise past you as you swim in the pool a few feet away. I'll always remember that:)

The skies in Florida really are magnificent, with clouds in formations that we've only seen in the movies. Complete masterpieces every time you turn around! Ofcourse there are the countless natives of the land who are incredibly curious as to what you're doing and where you are going. The only time I have never minded lizards:) Though if they crossed my territory and tried to live in the vacinity of where I sleep, that's a completely different matter. All bets are off there.

Another lovely memory I hope to keep with me is that of the dragonflies. There are so many here that it's almost alarming when you first see them because they're just everywhere. In our regular walks that we take, they come out in the hundreds and swoop over our heads in this awesome kind of dance. Now ordinarily the idea of having that many bugs around me is enough to weird me out and send me over the edge to grab a can of bugspray and spray the entire planet into an overpolluted-bug free airzone, but these particular bugs are considerably polite & make a hurry to fly out of your way. They must be well-mannered:)

The evening seems to be their favorite time to come out, right when the sun is going down. They fly higher than the tops of our heads when we walk through them and bounce back and forth in long assembly lines above the sidewalk, resembling more of an archway of flyers to those that unfortunately have to stay on the ground. But it is truly a sight to see. How awesome God is to create so many unique creatures.

I have enjoyed many things about this place...but I pray that I will always be up for the next adventure that the Lord leads me on to.

Choosing Hands

Well I'm thinking about putting up a music page eventually...something that I could use to put out some of the songs that the Lord has given me. I'm not quite sure if it will happen though, I just can't seem to make up my mind on it at the moment.

On the one hand, it would be wonderful to post some songs that I so much want to share with people in the hopes that God will take them and use them to bless someone. That's what they're intended to do...speak. Speak to hearts about different things that I have gone through, what others may be going through around me, or of what someone may go through in the future in some part of the world. There are many different ways a song can speak to you. That's what makes it personal.

But on the other hand...these handful of songs that I have are definitely not perfect. And though they are songs that are meant to be shared, they are also personal to me in a way that makes me feel guarded in releasing them to be harshly criticized. We all deal with criticism everyday, whether it's from others or from ourselves, but I guess I'm still uncertain of whether I want to face more of it right now. I just don't know.

Ofcourse, it's not going to scar me for life if someone says that I stink or can't play my guitar or whatever. But I'm still mulling it over in my head about what would be the best decision....probably sounds like a silly thing to be spending perfectly good time mulling over in your head, but I won't deny the fact that I have silly moments...quite frequently...especially in the presence of my family, where it's magnified by 100. Hey, it's inherited.

So...it will all come down to whether I feel like this is what the Lord wants me to do, and then I will face the risk of complete shredderous criticism of allowing people to hear them. Or I will keep them on the back burner for a bit longer and wait for God's perfect timing in making me more ready to do it later. We shall soon see which of the two it is..

And shredderous is definitely a word. I'm sure it'll catch on when the urban dictionary picks it up, if they haven't already;) Though whenever I hear the word 'shred' used at all, the old Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles come to mind. Yes, I know what you're thinking...a lot of things whirl around in my mind. That's why I call it Wonderland, people. Making sense of it has become quite an adventure and one test after another in following the voice of the Lord.

Leonardo was definitely cooler because of the double swords...but I have to admit that Michelangelo (pardon my spelling if incorrect) was way more amusing. And brave. Who else would dare to talk like a surfer and say 'cowabungu' while fighting ninja foot soldiers and an evil foe dressed in metal? Yeah, I think that's pretty bold.

True Bloom

There's a saying that some people are 'late bloomers.' What does that mean exactly? Is it to describe the fact that someone is taking a while to get themselves together? Or they have potential, but they're slow to realize it? Or maybe it's just a parent's way of sugarcoating the reality that their kid is a freak and won't find it out until they enter the mid-30's. I really don't know for sure what the true meaning of it is, to tell the truth. I've always thought it meant something good, so hopefully my assumptions are correct:) But the reason I hope so much that I'm right in thinking that way is because sometimes I feel very much like a late bloomer. Blooming into what, I don't know. But whatever it is, it's late.

I see many people that I grew up with in school and it feels weird to see them older. And though they're obviously the same people that I knew and easily recognizable, there's an obvious difference. Age. It's not a bad thing at all, but it is something you can usually see I think. I guess not in everybody, but in most you can tell that they've grown up and started their own families. Aging is just a part of life....but what if you feel like you're almost stuck in a time warp? Yeah, that's weird.

But it's not even solely based on the aging process really...it's also the feeling that you haven't accomplished what you set out to do yet. Knowing you have this purpose and mission to do something, and yet you're still not ready to do it. It can get frustrating at times because you want so much to begin a new season of your life but you have no way of getting to that place at the moment.

I know I've described it to people before, but it really does feel like I'm hovering in this place between the earth and sky. I can see the reality of my life underneath my feet, but I can also see the promise of what God has planned for me way above my head. And even though that promise is something I can see and view to be right there for me...it's still too far to reach. So then there's a balance of living in reality and doing the everyday tasks that can really bore you enough to keel over while you push the grocery cart through Walmart, while you also don't allow yourself to forget what you know is in your future. That there is going to be something more to your life than this.

So that is where I am at right now, floating around in the Wait Zone. It can be pretty hard sometimes up there, but I'm trying to learn all the things that God is teaching me at this time so I can be ready for the things to come.

I don't know what I'm late in blooming in exactly....but I hope to find out soon:)

The Winds of Change

It seems like in the past years, whenever something was about to happen, there would be a stirring in our hearts. A feeling of restlessness that starts to tug at your heart and make you a bit on edge of what could be right around the corner. But you can't see it. Somewhere up there though it's about to come into view.

I sort of have that feeling now...like the road that I'm on is going to turn and open up into where God is taking us next. I'm kind of uncertain what that could mean and how big that change will be. Well I guess I'm completely uncertain, seeing as to how I don't know what it is:) But I know it's important for me not to be so anxious for the change that I focus on it more than on Jesus. It's hard to take every thought captive though, even when I read of it so often in the Bible. But thoughts are sneaky! They burst in a million directions like little fireworks that never fall down, and then you lose them altogether. Sometimes I can't even finish a sentence or ask a question because my thought up and left town. Right there. In the middle of me saying it. So aggravating. And rather difficult to sort through as well. Sneaky little buggers.

But the winds do feel different right now, and not just because the seasons are changing outside. Maybe the seasons are changing inside too...which catapults you into a new adventure completely. One that I welcome and hope that I won't freak out in;)

Seeing the wind change in a different direction reminds me of Mary Poppins...when all the nannies that are lined up outside the house are blown away without any difficulty. The leaves rustled and the feet of those seemingly potential blessings lifted right off the ground to be sent on their way somewhere else, making room for the real blessing to come down and walk into their lives. I hope that's what is happening now. That the Lord's fulfillment will come, and when it does, that it will blow away all doubts and all anxiety...right into the sky. And making way for the awesome promise that He gave and the calling that He placed on my heart to be more evident.

Good gosh, I just saw one of those little yapper dogs today, just like the one in Mary Poppins. Strangely, that dog looks like the one from the Wizard of Oz. And wouldn't you know, it was riding in the basket on the front of a bike. So those people rode by me on their bikes with their little yapper dog in the basket looking around frantically, most likely searching for Dorothy. And did I sing the theme song for when the wicked witch rode on her bike through the tornado as they did so? Yes I did. It was only right. I hope the wind that's coming isn't THAT kind of wind. Tornadoes that send you to a land of people who talk like they've been inhaling helium all day is not exactly my cup o' tea. I don't mind the short, I'm not much taller than the short. But the helium thing would get old after awhile. Definitely. Well....that is, after I asked them to sing the song from those fabulous Chipmunks cartoons....good stuff:)

Sockland

The old cloud is looming in front of me....it's getting closer...and closer...and pretty soon it's going to backslap me into Grannyville. I shall turn 26 on the 26th. Sure, it sounds innocent enough. Gosh it even sounds young! But that's when it get's you....the old cloud. Raining on your Youth Parade and making you depressed. One day you're smiling and enjoying the drama of your teen years and then Wham! You wake up and your 35, driving a pack of soccer kids in the back of your old-people van while wearing mom pants up to your armpits. Then Wham! You wake up again and you're 75, wearing orthopedic shoes and buying Estee Lauder perfume after you get your hair done in the shape of a football helmet. I'm serious. You snap your fingers and time is shooting ahead at warp speed so fast that even Data from Star Trek couldn't help you figure out what happened. Even the fact that I remember watching original episodes of Star Trek means I'm old! Ah! Maybe I could use the Reading Rainbow guy's special sun visor/eyeglasses thing to let me look back at my youth..it's a thought.

Where do all those years go anyway? That's what I think to myself, and that's what my mom asks me occasionally. My answer: where all the socks are. And all the socks must be in Sockland, because...well I don't know why, but I think it sounds logical. There is a tiny magic portal in all the dryers that somehow slips our socks into an endless land of space, where those poor socks will live forever without a mate. Such a tragedy...for them AND for us, because hey! We want our socks! Maybe all our missing years slip into that wacky land too, so we can be left wigging out because we graduated from high school and then walked right into retirement. I dunno.

I guess it's just not something you can escape really. You get older, hopefully you get wiser...and time goes on. It lasts forever when you're in school though, how is that? In school 3 minutes feel like 3 decades. Such a mysterious phenomenon, time. I still don't get it yet but I hope I can obtain even the slightest sliver of more understanding on it. I just know that my timing is not God's timing. When I feel like I'm ready to move on, many times I have to wait longer. It can get frustrating.

But I'm glad that even though I have no clue where I'll be or for how long, I can at least feel peace knowing that I'm not forgotten. God knows my heart and He knows when I am truly ready to get where He's leading me to be. It can be grueling when you have to be still and wait. I think it's harder than when you're out doing hard work, because you have to fight yourself and train your will to obey the voice of the Lord. Extremely difficult...especially when you inherited stubborn from both sides of your family. But it will be worth it in the end when I finally get to the destination He's placed on my heart because I'll be disciplined and ready to go.

"He satisfies my desires with good things, so that my youth is renewed like the eagle's."

Psalm 103: 5


I'm not going to Sockland though. Definitely not. If everyone's socks go there, then I'm sure it's a wasteland of countless colors and labels that would put Hanes and Fruit of the Loom both to shame, combined! And I honestly can't imagine the smell of the old. I'm sure the socks would be somewhat clean, considering they would have come from the dryer, and that is generally where normal people put them after they've been washed. But the lost years, now hmmm...I'm not sure if that would be noticable....but I know what old smells like. Collard greens and feet. Yuck. No, I do not think that will ever be a destination on my map of places to see. And if I ever happened to stumble through the portal to Sockland, I would just have to say, "Beam me up Scottie, before I hear the sound of The Price Is Right coming on!"

Beware of the old cloud, it'll get ya...

Painting The Roses Red

I've had my share of jobs over the years, one of which was my short stint as a florist. But don't call us that.....the correct term is floral designer. Yep. Sounds so much more professional, doesn't it? I know..stuartess/flight attendant..whatever. Silliness abounds.

While I worked at a fairly large warehouse for flowers, the Valentine's Day boom came. Such a grueling experience....a thousand red roses arrived everyday, different kinds that had to be unloaded and prepared. I got so sick of seeing those little buggers in every corner of sight that I think they will always be my least favorite flower. And I like flowers, so that is a weird thing considering every girl is supposed to love red roses. I guess that's just another thing that makes my weird level go up, and it's already pretty high, so I think I could be bordering on freak. But I'm still not wacky enough to grab a little paint brush with the card soldiers and start slapping red paint over the flowers to escape an angry-eyed queen from screaming, "Off with her head!" Queen or no queen, there won't be red roses for me. She will just have to face my squinty eyes and that is all there is to it. She would most likely be intimidated by that because my squinty eyes are fiercesome.

I do love flowers though. I love the way they smell, and they're just bright and cheerful if only for a short time. But they are interesting to me...they remind me of people in a way. Unique and different, yet still in little bunches with similar looking flowers. Ofcourse, people are obviously more unique and interesting because we are all created for something more. We've got hearts that long for love and swirl with feelings, brains that tick around like a clock in our heads with ideas and vision, and bodies that we can discipline to be stronger and better everyday. God made us with an incredible amount of detail, it's absolutely amazing.

But yet like flowers, we are fragile and small. Some of us may grow to be taller and wider (or as many would like to call it: big boned) but we're still fragile. One storm can blow us away. One gust of wind can knock us down. Even one drop of rain can hit us hard and make us disoriented. Some have more hurts than others, with those thorns sticking out and jabbing you in order to protect themselves. Some are very noticeable and easily recognized, while others still are so tiny that you accidentally step on them because you never see them. And with all of these flowers/people, we stick with living around other flowers that look like us and live like us, never experiencing anything beyond our own gardens of safety. How sad for us. Endless kinds of flowers with endless colors, and shapes, and fragrances and names...but yet the only flower we know by heart is the red rose. I wonder what we're so scared of anyway..maybe being called a weed.

I hope that I can stop seeing people as clumps of the same flower, and see more in them...the way God can look at me and see a potential for something greater. In spite of my silly ways and stubborn tendencies, He doesn't ever throw me into a pile with other flowers. He sees me, and He loves me anyway:)

Well I'm off now, that white rabbit is still a good ways ahead of me. He thought he could lose me in Florida because of the old people trying to drive Miss Daisy in front of me with their golf carts, but it's not going to work. He's goin' down. But until I catch up with him, I guess I'll be singing with the lovely flowers I meet along the way and maybe keeping my eyes open for the odd advise of a looney cat....


"For You created my inmost being; You knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Your works are wonderful, I know that full well."

Psalm 139: 13-14

"A voice says, "Cry out." And I said, "What shall I cry?" "All men are like grass, and all their glory is like the flowers of the field. The grass withers and the flowers fall, because the breath of the Lord blows on them. Surely the people are grass. The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the Word of our God stands forever.""

Isaiah 40: 6-8

The Breaking Point

Since my days as a daredevil have been established, I guess it's safe to say that I can move on to how I became somewhat of a gypsy..

The older that we got, the more apparent it became that my dad was not going to be the kind of dad you assume you should have. When we were very young, he was too busy with sports to spend much time with us, which turned out to be a blessing now that we look back...because he was an angry man. We grew closer to my mom but more distant from my dad, especially through the teen years. Those years seemed to escalate the angry fits we heard, as we became more vocal in disagreeing with him. We went to church every Sunday and were always very involved, including my dad, who would usually become a leader in a Men's Ministry or Sunday School Teaching. But then we would go home and see him change from the nice & friendly church goer, to the short tempered man that created tension. We knew it was wrong, we knew he shouldn't be that way...living with different faces. But what could we do about it? Just get more frustrated I guess.

The alarming traits in this man were not just anger and hatefulness, but also scheming and manipulation. It was scary actually. To find out more and more just from watching someone that they would plan what to say to someone and how long to say it until they knew they would eventually get the reaction they wanted. If we had known then what would happen later, we would have run.

The years kept sailing by, we continued to grow up and move into adulthood. With my eldest sister married with two small children, my other sister in college a short distance away, and my brother living abroad after enlisting in the military...I was the only one living at home with my parents. Things went from bad to worse, with my dad becoming more controlling than ever before. My mother couldn't even go to the grocery store without him following her in his car to yell that it wasn't safe for her to go alone. And even worse yet....the lectures began. He began giving long lectures to my mom every night that just went on and on, mainly to tell her that God would never hear her prayers until she submitted to his authority. Authority to what? Everything. To rule and to control.

I found that if I walked in the middle of these lectures, he would stop talking and leave the room because he didn't want anyone to know what he was saying. So that's what I did every night. Praying and praying that God would save us from this situation...I'd wait until my mom would go to bed and then I'd go down to my room, only to find he was sitting in the dark waiting for me so he could question what I had talked to my mom about. This went on for a while, so much turmoil....so awful. We knew that God would save us somehow, so we kept praying and waiting for Him to show us what to do. What can you do, other than that? Leave? Yes, but we didn't have enough money to get very far. Call the police? And tell them what, that my dad was freaking us out? Tell our church or friends? Most people in there would've only told us to seek counseling and dig deeper, or not have known what to do. There was nothing. We'd thought of it, really. But there was nothing.

On December 13, 2002...there was the breaking point. It was late that night and I had already left my mom to go to bed, but I had this nightmare that really prevented me from being in a deep sleep. I dreamt that my dad was trying to kill me with a gun. I heard a loud thunder coming from upstairs and sat up as I heard someone running loud down the stairs to my room, right before it sounded like someone was going to rip the door off the hinges to get in. My first thought was, "Oh my gosh, this is it...He's going to kill me." But then when the door was unlocked and opened, I heard my mom scream at me to turn on the light while she locked my door back up. I held her for a little while and listened to her tell me how my dad had put a gun to her head and told her it was Friday the 13th, her day to die. He'd planned 6 different ways of doing it to make it look like an accident. She was trying to scream to me for help up there, but their room was over the garage, and I didn't hear anything from my room. He told her that if she didn't stop screaming, he was only planning on killing her & himself, but he would come down and kill me to.

The only way she got out of there was because of God. When she said the name of Jesus, he went crazy and told her Jesus couldn't help her...but Jesus did help her. It was in that Name, that she ordered my dad to let her go. He barely did, but had no intention of doing so. When my mom saw him step away from the bedroom door, she fled. She came down to my room and we called for help. I listened at my door to see if he was coming down while my mom was on the phone to my sister & brother-in-law, who just happened to be 2 minutes away with their neighbors. Ofcourse, they didn't just happen to be that close. God was working. I could hear my dad's voice coming from somewhere on the other side of that thin door to where we were trembling so bad, we couldn't hardly think straight. I thought I heard him singing. Tell me that's not even more terrifying. He was very calm the entire time he had spoken to my mom, so calm...

That night was so horrible, I can't even begin to describe everything.....hiding in a hotel until the police could find my dad after he took off. Being so sick from nerves and shock, that I couldn't hold anything down for a couple days...being disowned by my father's family because we had allowed outsiders (police) to help us when it should have been kept in the family. The harassment from that was heart wrenching...having your own family break into your house to steal your things because you don't make as much money as he does, therefore, everything must belong to him. But God knew what was happening and He was always 10 steps ahead. He provided for us to sell the house and we gave all that we had away, so when it was broken into, there wasn't much left but a few miscallaneous items.

My mother's family has been loving to us, welcoming us into their homes and blessing us. So we're a bit homeless, but how blessed are we? We're free. We don't want anything from them, just to be left alone. And now I'm in a different state altogether, writing about it when it feels like it was so recent....but it's been 5 years. Takes a while to heal from that, but we are:)

So that is how I came about being somewhat of a gypsy...and hopefully somewhat wiser. I keep finding out how people can just let you down, but yet God never does. I'm living proof that He's real. How? I'm alive. And I'm free.

But this isn't the end of my story........I'm just getting started, so hold on. Here we go..

Wild Child

If I were a story, I'm positive I would write something completely clever as a beginning to my odd life-tale. Yes, I'm pretty positive that's what I would do. Unfortunately for me, Clever is on vacation and I got stuck with Weird ( a guest that never leaves.) That's alright though, at least it's not Boring. Such a Debbie Downer, that one...

How to begin..well I am a Bekah. A Rebekah formally, a Bekah normally, a Bex occasionally, and a Becky never. I'm a bit of a gypsy right now, without a place to really call home. But one day I will...and that will be a great day. I didn't always used to be this way though, I used to be another resident of the Burbs (insert rolling thunder and lightning strikes.) I like to write, which I do often in music and books, and I hope eventually that someone other than myself will actually enjoy them:] I have a couple of sisters and a brother that I love the majority of the time;) Incredibly hard times and horrible events in our lives could have easily ripped us apart, but I'm thankful God brought us through them and made us stronger for it. But it's been rough. Extremely rough. I guess I'll start with the "back in the day" stuff before moving on to the rough stuff. That's always a good idea I think.

I'm the youngest of the siblings, and as such, I learned how to properly give the 'squinty eyes' from my sisters. The true masters of the art of squinty eyes. Oh yes....there is an art. And I learned how to play army men from my brother, except that usually meant, staying away because girls aren't allowed to play with army men. It's an unwritten rule. We were wild. And that's an understatement....but we weren't 'dumb' wild, it was more like a 'clever' wild. I guess that could be more concerning than a dumb wild, but thankfully we survived. And so did my mother:) Most likely working those Angels overtime..from the sliding down stairs on freakishly large bodypillows that we were convinced would be completely safe, to the nosedives we took off our bunk beds onto the large pile of blankets & pillows. Even though it was a hardwood floor, mind you. But we were alright, until we got in trouble. That could be painful....but you know, it is kinda funny to remember my mom running to us while screaming, "Stop that! We don't have insurance!" Ofcourse we didn't know what insurance was, but we were fully assured that it was going to be something fun to do before we did it. Insured, assured...close enough to us. But we could have easily been injured seriously, or fatally for that matter. The reason we weren't: God's hand was upon all our lives protecting us inspite of our looniness.

A ten pack of ping pong paddles. How many packs were broken while disciplining out backsides? I just don't know. But we deserved it. And we learned not to be rude and dumb. Though we all have moments of the latter sometimes...:] I'm thankful that my mom cared enough to say no to us and to whoop the stupid out of us. It's a neccessary thing in life you know.

Seeing as to how this is only a beginning to all the things that swirl in my head and may eventually be written down here, I think it might be a good time for me depart. It's always a good idea to pace yourself in this sort of thing. Too much information at once could only cause shock..