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.