Christ like or like Christ

I am learning that if I am to be "Christ like" it doesn't necessarily require me to act like Christ, it requires me to first seek Him, and when I find Him I will act as he acts and won't even have to try. No one can live up to being like Christ, but we can seek him in His goodness and His word, and when we are willing to receive him we will reflect Christ.

"Do you think God knows He's good? No. He just is." From the book Mister God, this is Anna by Fynn

Black eye

Last week knocked the wind out of me. Just last night I was trying to explain all the crap I endured last week to a friend, but unfortunately when you are trying to explain, essentially the unexplainable, a person who has not been there cannot comprehend your situation. Needless to say, it was a waisted effort.

"1 Blessed is the man who endureth all the crap-eth of life. 2 God shall be glorified through him. 3 He delights in the weakness of that man, 4 and that man is given great treasures and riches in Christ."
Camille 1:1-3

I decided to start my own book of the Bible. These are my first 4 verses.

It feels really good to know that none of this crap is waisted. It has so much purpose in your life, and in your faith. All that God asks of you it to trust Him through it all. The best moment I had last week was when God spoke powerfully, yet gently to my heart, and all I said in response was "yes, Father". It is a beautiful thing to hear the voice of God and have complete confidence that He is at work in you and for you.

Sleepy

I have often said this to people and I don't think I ever truly believed it until now, but I am such a mellow person that I am on the verge of exhaustion all the time.

Mysterious woman

Weathered eyes and a confident smile were the attributes I noticed as I glanced to my left. Heading towards the restroom I passed by the vanity where I saw her. She gracefully shifted her weight from one side to the other, changing the viewing points of her figure. Her hair flowed down over her shoulder. The stunning curls catching every glimmer of light, as if they sparkled. Freckles graced her nose and her lashes touched the top of her eye lids. With an intent look about her face she studied the bodies that pass by. I slowly walked towards her, wishing I was invisible. A smile gently arose from her lips as she examined her image in the mirror. She walked away satisfied.

Her impression left me with many questions. A thought crossed my mind, did she see herself as beautiful? Was she truly confident in her image? Her weathered eyes told me otherwise. They told me of a woman with many thought-filled nights, and many heavy experiences. Her smile was confident but not happy. Was she hiding her real face? No, because a face cannot hide from grief. O' how beautiful it is to see a real face. To see truth is to see God. Even in the midst of struggle, with a face filled with sadness and a posture telling of a broken heart, there is still a beauty that overwhelms the soul. In sadness you see humility, and in humility, grace from a beloved Father. This mysterious woman has been blessed with beauty, and in the same light, cursed be it.

Bearing my igloo

Out of my mouth came an unknown word,
from somewhere above; it could only be heard
by the bearer of self.

Creeping up out of my chest
were slithery scales moving towards my breath.
It scraped the inside of the ice cold walls
leaving shavings behind to show power and control.
Immense pain I felt to release this burden
although it was given without any permission.

Aggravating my inner self
I began the process of releasing what will eventually help.
I can endure the pain as it continues to scrape
what was so faithfully built
for my own personal sake.

Rising to the surface
leaving residue behind,
doubt overwhelms
finding a deep place to preside.
Feeling a slight warmth
knowing there is strength
understanding the great truth
to name is to give way.

I release it from my lips as the pressure begins to ware
It becomes more clear and visible to see
that the burden was no one other than me.
"Forgive myself" were the words that were spoken
Learn to love even when in pain
for if God can forgive, so you also may

Emboldened by tea

Just a moment ago, while sipping my Tazo- wild sweet orange tea I looked up at the mug that sat in front of me and it read, "You can do it!".

What exactly can I do? It's interesting to think that at this moment when I am struggling with so many thoughts of growth and goals of reaching greater achievements, a mug is telling me I can do it. How do you know? What else can you tell me of my capabilities? In a way this mug actually encouraged me to continue in my pursuits, and unbeknownst to the creator of this ingenious mug, his artwork and seemingly unoriginal title helped someone.

Maybe I should go into the business of creating mugs with cheesy, and yet encouraging titles.

His throne endure before me like the sun

My heart, restless and uneasy, was struck by a piercing comment, "Did you go to college? Did you graduate? No. Well I did." Hearing a tone of arrogance, I said nothing, left only to feel the sting of it's blade later when the numbing of my adrenaline wore off. I became callus and cold hearted, so I wouldn't have to reveal my brokenness. How could I not have known or felt my own pain, until this day?

The questions that linger, even under my very breathe, are:

Am I smart enough?
Am I competent?
Can I succeed?
Am I worth it?

I am at war. I go to battle every day, in every hour, and in every minute, fighting for my right to feel competent and valuable. On the battle field, I call out for strength; I put on armor to protect my heart, a helmet to cover my head, and a sword to draw on my enemy, although I hardly use it. I have coverings for my feet for quickness, and my head is anointed with oil, to symbolize my new self.

This last battle started with great success. I covered much ground. Scouting the terrain, I caught thieves and exposed them to be judged, and I was rewarded greatly. Unknown to me, I was also exposed. I was now a known person. A trap was set for me by the enemy. Dwelling in my glory, I became arrogant, and foolishly walked into their trap. I could not believe my Ignorance.

Then a faint whisper in the wind came unto me, to say:

-I am not condemned, I am forgiven.
-I am not incompetent; I have been given wisdom and knowledge by the One greater than myself.
-I am not worthless; I am as a precious jewel, and am called by name, Beloved.

As soon as I repeated this gift of truth, I was rescued from my prison and brought back to this place to share this with you.

Psalm 89:1-37

Missy to Mister

Yesterday I was talking to my mother about some deep spiritual issues, brought on by a video I watched by EX Ministries. As we were discussing these important subjects, one of my cats jumped on my bed. I was laying there in deep thought, praying that God would open my eyes to His perspective, and grant me insight for His kingdom, when my mother signaled my attention to look at my cat Missy. When I looked at her I couldn't tell exactly what she was doing. At first I thought she was massaging her claws on my blanket, as she always used to do, so delicately, and with poise. My eyes started to focus in on her moving her claws on my blanket to massage them, and then I thought, "Aw, how cute!". Again my mother signaled my attention, trying not to speak very loud so we didn't scare her away before figuring it out. So, again I looked, thinking...thinking..."What? Girls don't hump!"

Well, after 1 year of playful, beautiful Missy Estrada Schenk Carreiro, we discovered the unthinkable, she is NOT a girl. Poor confused Missy, whom we now call Mister. And to think, just the other day we were hoping she wasn't pregnant, because we were noticing her/him gaining some weight. I guess we don't have to worry about that anymore. It's almost sad to think about Missy being male, I was really comfortable with him being a young lady. I guess next time I shouldn't be so gullible and take the persons word for it, I should check for myself.

Moving out and moving on.

It dawned on me yesterday that I have never lived by myself. Currently I live with my mother and 2 younger sisters. For a long time, after I had a steady job, I was at home solely for one purpose: to help my family sustain their current home. The down side of living at home is sharing my time. I can't just come home and relax. Granted I have an unusual situation, unlike most people I know.

I have 4 siblings from my mothers side, and 2 from my fathers. They range from 32-10 years of age. That's a pretty large gap, I know. My eldest brother Anthony is 32, and he has a wife and four children, ages 11, 9, 5, and 3. My eldest sister Leticia is 27, and she has her boyfriend and their 3 children, ages 3, 1 1/2, and 1 month. I have my sister Janelle, 17, and brother Johnathan, 18, on my Dad's side. And finally, my sisters Michel, 13, and Danielle, 10. How can I keep up with all of them, you ask? I can't, but I do my best and try my hardest.

As I was saying before, I live with Michel, 13, and Danielle, 10, who are the closet siblings I have, in terms of our relationship, but it's starting to wear on me. I need my own time and own space. I come home tired and worn out from my work, only to come home to a jungle, where I'm beating the animals off me and fighting for my time. I can't come home and read my books and study. I can't do my laundry without being interrupted. I can't even go to the bathroom without someone banging on the door asking me where they can find the remote controller.

Just last night, as I was driving home on the freeway, my car started to drift and my eyes became heavy. I started to dream of my bed and how nice it will feel against my cheek. I couldn't wait to get home so my eye lids could finally give way, and I could rest my head. I pull into the driveway noticing a familiar family van. I walk in the door and a stampede of children rush over me like a surge of water through a broken dam. I couldn't help but feel joy because I get to spend time with my beloved nephews, whom I love so much, but I also felt robbed of my precious time. I know they don't intentionally steal time from me, and if only they could understand how I feel and what it's like for me, but it's still wearing.

There is a definite upside to having a large family. As much as I crave time to myself, I still am completely excited and find deep joy in all of my family. I love having people around. It's hard because I'm so social and I love people. But then again I also NEED alone time. Sometimes I feel like every little thing, all of the little appointments, or the short time that I spend with someone is really a huge deal. But I wouldn't trade or change my family for the world. I am completely blessed by them. They continue to teach and humble me.

I am now looking for an apartment. I look forward to some alone time.

Pan's Labyrinth

I know I just saw a movie yesterday, but I really wanted to see this one and it only plays at select theaters, so I decided to see it while I could.

I saw Pan's Labyrinth with high expectations, of course, considering some of the reviews I read. I guess I wasn't really prepared for what I saw in the theater today. It was pretty gruesome and bloody. I actually really enjoyed the movie without all of those scenes. It was extremely imaginative, and portrayed an innocent little girl with a beautiful spirit and an intriguing insight and perspective. The pictures in the forest were fairy tale shots, and the characters had potent personalities, expressing themselves through distinctive facial expressions, and concise and rich words. I loved the main character Ofelia; the contrast between her character being beautiful in her innocents, and a war torn Spain- country side, lead by a malicious and ruthless Captain, who is also her newfound Step-Father, is a brilliant and intriguing idea.

Guillermo Del Toro, director of Pan's Labyrinth, incorporated so many of the fairy tales that we have grown up with, and have grown to love. I think of all the good moves he made in directing this film, familiarizing the viewers with common, and well-known fairy tales was the best. The story is one of survival, a fairytale world and a heart for something more. I really enjoyed this movie but I don't know if I would, or should recommend it to anyone. It's not a lighthearted film.

Freedom Writers

I just got back from seeing this movie, and I have to say that it is worth blogging about at 1:37 in the morning. When I first watched the T.V. previews and the trailer I was not impressed. It seemed to be a 1995 "Dangerous Minds", Michelle Pfeiffer knock off. Although I had low expectations, and no desire to pay full price to see this movie, I went more for the other person than myself. I am so glad that I did. Hilary Swank was beautiful, not brilliant, but beautiful. It wasn't so much her physical features as it was her ability to generate a sincerity in her character that emulated a deep and heartfelt soul. The lives and situations of the students were heavy and dark, and it probably would have been an overkill for this movie if it were not for the artistic depiction of their personalities. The lives of the students were played out and a voice over of their thoughts streamed in sync with their experiences. I really enjoyed that. I was also touched at the different levels of this movie, and the way they showed the struggles on all sides, really giving a good picture of the reality of their situation. All in all this hits my top list. I can't say how many are in my top list, I've never thought about it.

Mighty Mouse

The mightiest mouse around. I cannot believe how awesome it is. Ingenious I tell you, ingenious. My favorite part is the mini ball that you can roll any direction you'd like. Move to the left or right, up or down and it scrolls your window. Haha! I love the thumb pieces on the sides. At first I thought you just rested your fingers on them, I was so wrong, you squeeze the sides and it miniaturizes all of your current windows of applications so you can accurately choose without clicking and moving them around. It saves you loads of time. I love the tilting effect of the mouse. Instead of having a separate piece to click on the mouse, it has one whole piece on top and you press one side to click. Beautiful!

iPhone joy

My heart is beating a million times a minute. My fingers are shaking and I feel tingling down my spine. Yes, it is because of my uncontainable joy. I have dreamed of this day. It was only two months ago when I thought to myself, "Mmm...Apple really needs to come out with a combination of a smart phone and ipod". Ode to joy, it has arrived. Meet iPhone.

Gingerbread house contest

This year my family started a christmas event that may become a tradition in our family, a gingerbread house contest. We bought pre-made gingerbread house parts, sprinkles, different shapes of candy, and multiple tubs of white icing, which we colored with food coloring. There were only two groups of pieces with shared decorating materials. The only rules were to give everyone an equal opportunity to decorate, and to finish the quickest and most creative.

Which one would you vote for?

Gabriella

On December 16th my sister gave birth to her third child, Gabriella Ann Herrera. She was 6 lbs. 5 oz., and 19 inches long. I have 6 other nephews, and Gabriella is the first girl in this generation in my family. I cannot express to you my excitement when hearing of her birth.

On the morning of Gabi's birth my sister called my home to tell me of her contractions and the feeling she had that Gabi was ready to be born. I almost felt as if I was the one having the baby. I went to my Dad's home that day and had an unusual amount of energy, which is not normal for me. I was also incredibly joyful, which is also unusual when I am around my Dad.



My life seemed to be coming together in my mind. My choices and thoughts came into perfect view, and I didn't seem to have anxiety as I did before. I was released from all my worries, just for this one perfect moment.





On my way to the hospital Jesus sat next to me in the passenger seat, as I was driving the 30 miles north to the hospital. He layed his hand on my shoulder and spoke to my heart. He explained to me that baby Gabi is his gift, and nothing else mattered but his children. I had been brought to His side that night and was not only given the gift of his company, but of a new life.

This was the day she was born. I can't believe how much I was in love with her the moment I saw her. As you can tell my sister Michel is quite the excited one. She was really in a good mood, this photo just caught her off guard.

Summer of 96'

I remember Mexico in the summer of 96'.
It was when my Dad took me to Guadalajara, Mexico
for a reunion and a quinceanera.
He flew me to the middle of the country
and introduced me to long lost family.
I didn't speak Spanish so I couldn't really talk to anyone,
but that really didn't matter,
I don't think I would have been able to say much.
All I could do was watch,
because I couldn't say much.
It was almost a relief that I didn't
have to worry about conversation.

My family was very loud.
They are traditional Catholics.
I guess it was more like Catholic by birth.
Although they are Catholic
the rules do not apply.
I think it was more of the assurance
that they were getting into Heaven.

I was a shy girl,
who was very insecure.
I never opposed a soul.
I always did what I was told.
I felt like a guinea pig at times,
because I noticed people would watch and observe me.
They would wonder what I was doing there.
Maybe because I was a bastard child,
or maybe because they thought I was a mute.
Sometimes I felt like a skittish deer,
I think they saw it too.

I was a cute delicate child with large round glasses
that always fell of my nose.
My glasses were new from just the year before,
when I went to my cousins house in Oregon.
I tried to impress them with my wicked jumping skills.
I jumped on the bed
so high I could almost touch the ceiling.
I knocked my glasses right off my head.
They flew across the room and bent down the middle.
I tried to fix them like my Dad used to.
He would take the glasses to a door post
and place the middle of the glasses to the corner of the frame.
Then he would carefully bend the glasses back
with one hand on each side.
When I put each hand on the edge of the optical frame
I pushed hard so I could make them real straight.
I guess I didn't know my own strength,
because I pushed so hard that I broke them in two.

My cousin took me to the nearest eye glass store
so I could get new frames.
I've been legally blind since I was 11,
so I couldn't really wait too long for new frames.
All they had were frames too big for my face.
I didn't want them, but I was desperate
and I couldn't see.

I also had beautiful long brown hair.
It was thick and wavy.
People used to call me Pocahontas,
because of my dark skin and long dark hair.

The minute we got to Mexico my Dad took off.
They left me with my other cousins
at a house just down the block from theirs.
The owner of the house was a former military man.
We called him Uncle Bill.

When I first met Uncle Bill
I noticed one of his hands was burnt real bad.
All of his fingers were missing.
He told us he lost his hand when he was in the war.

When he was on the battle field he pulled out a grenade.
He pulled the pin to throw it,
but it was defective and exploded in his hand.
I thought that was pretty sad.
Now he lived in a house in the middle of Mexico.
We called his house the Cucaracha hotel,
there were always cockroaches in his house.

All the adults in the family started a committee that year.
So naturally they needed to have "meetings".
Since then they've been having pretty regular "meetings",
we grew suspicious.
Later we figured out they were really having pot parties.
They would drink and get high while we were left alone all day.

Little did they know that we were having parties of our own.
That year was when I started smoking weed and drinking alcohol.
While they were out partying all day we had to stay amused,
so we did what they did.

I remember smoking while the adults were home.
my cousin and I went into the bathroom,
started the shower
and turned the water to steaming hot.
The steam cleverly masked the smell of marijuana.
My cousin took my empty Coca-Cola can
and poke several holes on the side.
She separated the marijuana leaves
and stuck them over the holes of the can.
With the mouth of the can wide open
she sucked the air in while the flame burned the weed.
Then we sat for a while.

We took a trip to Puerto Villarta and stayed at a hotel by the beach.
They served alcohol to minors so I was taking the initiative.
One morning some of the parents came to our room
knocking on the door.
We jumped up, hid the weed,
and grabbed the 20 empty glasses from around the room.
We thought we were so cool that summer, but I knew,
even then, we were all frightened and hurt little children,
who just wanted to be noticed by the parents that are supposed to love you.

To think that as a child, a beautiful little innocent child,
you are capable of wanting more than the pure joy that is given to you.
When you are rejected, turned away, or ignored,
you would do anything to replace that loss.

That year I was a child, who wanted to replace her loss.

"When I was a child,
I talked like a child,
I thought like a child,
I reasoned like a child.
When I became a man,
I put childish ways behind me."
1 Corinthians 13:11

Weary of the battle

O Lord, the most high,
do not punish me in your anger
because my wickedness
is so great.
Take mercy on me, O God,
for I know that my actions deserve punishment.

O God, of mercy and compassion
I cannot stand to look at myself
any longer.
My sin is almost too much to bear.
I am ashamed of who I am.
How can it be so, that I
am even ashamed
of being ashamed?

Abba Father,
I cry out to you
in great distress.
I have no strength left of my own.
I cannot see past myself.
This burden is too great for me to bear,
but I know
it is not too great
for you.

Father of Heaven and earth,
I cry out to you.
I ask you to take hold
of your dying daughter.
My flesh is unworthy of your
greatness.
I do not deserve your pure
and blameless love.

Take mercy on me my Father.
You have said to me", Ask
and it will be given to you;
seek and you shall find;
knock and the door will be opened.
For everyone who asks receives;
he who seeks finds;
and to him who knocks,
the door will be opened."

I ask you to walk with me;
I seek refuge in the shelter
of your wings;
and I praise you
for opening your door to me.
I exalt thee, O Father in Heaven,
for you are mighty
and your kingdom great.

O my God, I am ashamed to say
I do not feel that I am enough.
But what are my feelings?
They, that come from in me,
are not even reliable.
They are not valid in my circumstances,
for I know that they are tainted
by my humanity,
and by my history.

My God, you have said,
"Who of you by worrying
can add a single hour
to his life?".
I know those words well.
In my heart those words
reign true,
but in my flesh
I am tortured by my
worries.

"Consider the lilies of the field",
those words were spoken
from your lips.
They bring me comfort and joy.
But everyday is the same battle,
and I am weary.
I know that I can trust in your
strength, O merciful One.
For I know that if not for
your strength, than
I am dead already.

Care for me, O Father in Heaven.
Care for your daughter,
whom you have created,
by your greatness
and for your pleasure.

You are all that I have...
And more, you are all that I need.

Praise be to the Father in Heaven.
Honor and Glory be to Him,
forever and ever.
Amen.

All I've ever known

There are many things in this world
that people know very well.
We have experts in certain subjects,
like psychologists
and technologists of the world.

They know about that area
of humanity,
and the mentality of the like,
but there are things I know
they do not know
about other parts of life.

I know we are not perfect;
we cannot know it all.
Then why do I feel so stupid?
Why am I so dull?

There are many things I do not know,
there are many things I do,
but no matter how many things I know,
I will always feel retarded,
and I'll even think it's true.

I cannot break this pattern,
or maybe I don't know how.
But I do know where it comes from;
I finally figured it out.

It is a pain that has grown immensely;
it has reared its ugly head.
It has deep rooted itself within me,
and hides underneath my bed.

It attacks me in the night,
and keeps me up all hours of the morn.
It clothes itself with humor,
and keeps close to my every sore.

It has grown with me since childhood;
it started when I was very young.
It came from my insecurities
and became greater
when I felt alone.

I was neglected as a child,
and left with two young kids.
I became, what you would call
a junior "Mom",
and had responsibilities
instead of friends.

Because I had more "important" things
going on in my young bound life,
I never did my homework,
or had motivation of any kind.

I neglected to do any school work
and failed at everything.
I was even told, or yelled at,
for not doing the right things.

At home it was always hard;
because I did everything wrong.
I never did right or good,
but I always tried to please my mom.

Every time I messed up
I would never hear the end.
She would always call me Stupid,
and never be my friend.

I heard it from my Mother,
I heard it from my,
"little friend".
I couldn't do anything right.
I was Stupid.
I was ignorant.
I saw it then.

I came home to a town house
and lived in a drug dealing court,
where I heard gun shots every other night
and policemen at every door.
I heard a lot of screaming
mainly between my Step-Dad and Mom.
She always yelled
because he wasn't perfect
and didn't believe in God at all.

He used drugs all the time,
but he was still a very good man.
He would even call me his daughter
to all his drug dealing friends.
He was like a real live Dad to me
but in the end he died
when I was only 15.

I was tortured by the thought
that no one would ever pay attention to me.
So after he died
I mourned for 2 things,
that I lost him as a Dad,
and lost any care or concern for me.

I started drinking alcohol
and started smoking weed.
I started drinking heavily;
it was my only living need.

In the midst of this great tragedy
I still knew
there was another man,
who was my real live Father,
but I didn't know him
as a Dad.

I knew him since I was 2.
I went to his house every other week.
But we didn't know each other,
and more,
he didn't care to know me.

He would never call me at home
or even on my cell phone.
He would even lie
when they went to Disneyland
because he didn't want to pay my toll.

I was neglected by my Mother
left by my only Dad,
rejected by my real Father,
and forced in a stupid program.

I never felt like I could do anything right
I have always been insecure.
I thought my "little friend"
would help me?
I thought he would save me
and more?

What happened to you my little friend?
What...is this the end?

I thought my friend was good.
I thought he cared for me.
He taught me so many things;
he spent so much time
making me feel I was a need.

He taught me how to laugh,
when I felt insecure.
He taught me how to fidget,
when I was alone,
or when I felt unsure.
He taught me how to lie,
when I didn't feel comfortable being honest.
He taught me how to feel good,
by showing me new tricks of pretending,
or by numbness.

That's why I started drinking,
sometimes I would even smile.
That's why I smoked weed,
to take me to a place
that was worth while.

But every year that passed,
some how those things stopped working,
because my focus was not on my friend anymore,
but on One who truly loves me.
This One started to pursue me
like no one I had ever known.
He even called me His daughter,
but it took a while for me
to know.

He was the God most high,
who wanted me as his own.
I accepted Him in my life
and it started to really show.

He took me as I was,
loved me just the same.
He didn't want me to change,
but he wanted to show
who he really made.
He wanted me to love
his beloved creation
called me.
I tried to pretend for a while
but I couldn't lie or deceive.

He already knew what I did.
That I had made a big mistake
but surprisingly
he didn't punish me.
He wasn't even angry.

All he said to me was,
"My beloved daughter
with whom
I am well pleased."

I couldn't believe my ears,
that this guy could really love me!
Could He be for real;
is he one who truly loves me?

But still I struggled to love myself
and still to this very day.
I have many insecurities...

Oh wait, my little friend!
Did he stow away?
Yes! He did.
He hid
beneath my skin
His favorite thing is flesh
he loves to sit
deep within.

Who is this thing
that says he's my friend?
Now I know what friendship means.
And it is not as he has said;
he lies to me.
Yes, he does deceive.

His name is called Incompetence.
Now I see the truth.
He is trying to bring me down;
he is trying to lie
about the truth.

All these years I never knew.
I always thought he was on my side.
I thought he really cared for me too.
I didn't see
he was trying to hide.

He made me feel worthless.
He made me feel rotten.
He took away my freedom
and took over all of my thoughts.

He tainted every part of me
by the time I turned 22.
He started to become sloppy
after I grew in the Lord,
then I knew.

I saw my insecurities.
I saw my feelings of worthlessness.
I even saw my eyes had changed;
I saw myself through goggles.

I saw an ugly person
when I looked at myself in a mirror.
I couldn't bear to look anymore
even make up...
I didn't care.

When people would say,
"You’re beautiful!"
No matter how great it was.
I would always question,
what do they see?
How could they think
I am so pretty?

In this place of oppression,
of slavery and of bondage,
were heavy chains
of worthlessness,
of Ignorance
and lack of knowledge.

They burdened my heart;
they burdened my soul.
I was weary of the battle
that led me to no where at all.

I finally acknowledged the reality
by someone God had sent
to help me see,
that my friend Incompetence
is not the truth.
He's not even good.
He only knows how to wound.

He was never my friend.
He never helped me.
The only reason I survived
was because Christ loves me.

By His Grace I've been saved.
By his Love I've been grown,
because he's a God
who will take me
out of whatever circumstances
I've known.

You are stupid

"You are stupid",
my mother would say,
when she would catch me
going astray.

If I would make a mistake
I would always know
by the sounds she would make;
by her face,
it would show.

I could see it in her eyes,
I could see it in her smile,
she was disappointed in me
for not being a child
that would always obey,
or who would always listen.

But I did "Mommy Dearest",
I did what you asked
I did what you said.
I washed all the dishes
and cleaned the living room.
I washed all the clothes
and even vacuumed my room.
But I forgot to clean the litter
and forgot to feed the cat...
I'm sorry "Mommy Dearest",
I didn't mean to slack.

"You are stupid",
she would say,
when she would catch me
doing wrong
or catch me in lie,
or catch me trying to move on.

I would not be a child
that ever did right,
that ever made her proud,
or ever took the time
to make her happy,
or make her smile;
to make her laugh,
even just for a little while.

But who could make her smile?
Who could make her laugh?
Why was I the one?
She'd always be on my back
about everything in her life,
everything in mine,
everything in site,
everything all the time.

If I made a mistake
or did something wrong
she would always be disappointed
and would always let me know.

I wasn't enough.
I wasn't any good.
I couldn't do anything right,
as she thought I always should.

I have known I can't be perfect
but I always felt
I had to be.
I never had the freedom
to enjoy my life
so lovingly.

She has always disagreed
and never accepted me
for who I really was,
until I gave in
to her beliefs.

I started to follow Jesus,
all of the sudden
I was good.
I started to want to do His will,
and then she was proud
and pleased,
of who
she thought I should be.

I know that she loved me
and loves me to this day,
but she doesn't know
how to love in Grace
because she doesn't believe
that Christ is tied to her,
even to this very day.

Most days I have anxiety,
most days I tend to worry.

I worry about things
that I cannot explain.
I worry about life,
and even my pain.

I have anxiety about myself;
about wisdom, knowledge, and pride.
I worry about disappointment
and even space,
and sometimes time.

It has caused me to miss
opportunities for some great things
and now I see the detriment
that this stupid feeling brings.

This all stems from my childhood
all this stuff is from my past.
It has tainted my very existence.
I cannot take anything back.
It has left it's ugly mark
and cut too deep to hide.
All that I can do now
is try to morn my lost childhood
and life.

Numbness

Numbness is such a scary place.

You are robbed of your conscience;

you know no conviction.

See no evil, hear no evil.



It is the very place that leads you into a trap,

set forth by the Adversary.

The process starts by your conviction;

the very blood that pumps through your veins,

underneath your flesh,

desires the pleasures of this world.



So you continue

Continue to feed your desires until, soon,

you stop feeling.

Stop feeling the rush of that same blood that pumped once before

to convict you of the wrong,

no longer pumps in silence.

For it is no longer afraid of the wrong,

it now accepts it.



Now begins the numbness of your soul.



Where do we find feeling?

How do we begin to feel once more?



In scripture?



As I am in the presence of my Heavenly Father,

It is in that very moment

That he raises my body from the cemetery

where it lays.



I am resurrected once more.



My heart is racing

and my blood is pumping,

but only to the beat of my own sorrow.

For I know that in my death I crucify my Father,

yet again.



But it is in His forgiveness and mercy

that reassures me He is King.

So I shall not be a shamed any longer

for the Father has said to me,

"You are my Beloved daughter,

and in you I am well pleased."


He delights in us,

not in our sin,

just in us...as we are.

We shall not be ashamed

it is in God's son that we have been redeemed

He has already paid the price for our vanity and sins.


So now we are called with the mandate to enjoy life

in love, in grace, and in our Heavenly Father.