Flailing around like a fool

>> Monday, October 18, 2010

I struggle daily with my relationship with God and the plan he has for my life, the path he leads me down is unfamiliar territory and downright scary. When I stretch myself beyond my comfort zone and take a few shaky steps on His path I find joy, excitement, and happiness like no other, there is always great reward down this road. But soon I start freaking out, get uncomfortable and find myself flailing around like a fool, worried and insecure.

I didn’t grow up in the Church; frankly this “FAITH” thing is weird to me. My mom did start taking us to Church when I was 11. I started looking forward to youth group as a teen, where I spent most of my time making out with boys behind the Church. I didn’t find Jesus at Church, but I did find out that most boys could be tempted with some sweet cherry lip-gloss.

Like Jonah and his Whale, (Y’all know that Bible story right?) I fight against God’s desires for my life; I give him attitude and walk away. Not that I think others are undeserving to know God’s heart, Love, mercy and forgiveness, mostly I fear looking like an idiot. Sometimes I think it would take a lot more than some little whale to make me move.

Who am I to tell you about God anyway? I am not a Bible teacher; I didn’t even grow up in a “God centered home,” Heck most Sundays I can’t even get my ass out of bed to make it to Church. I was a self-proclaimed Atheist for most of my life. I misquote the Bible and misunderstand the meaning of verses’, (as my husband will quickly point out) I gossip and use bad words, I don’t have a college degree and to top it all off I’m dyslexic…
 far far far far far from perfect!

Before Jesus entered into my heart, I was a mess, totally fucked up, and lost. Now I wasn’t whoring myself out for crack, but I was in a pit. (Wow I’m such a rebel I used the F-bomb and Jesus in the same sentence and I’m not drunk or talking politics). I know firsthand how God’s love can bring peace and joy to a crazy messed up chick like me. Jesus has given me EVERYTHING I could ever want to be happy, But I still fight with the pull of the world, the easy life…I get angry with God when He leads me to step out…WTF Doesn’t He know I’m not Perfect and NO ONE will listen?

Do you fight God’s plan for your life, do you take the easy path, I’m right there with you sister. Why do we do it? It’s selfish really, when we have the poor WTF attitude of Jonah we fail to reach others and we fail our own journey. But when we are on the path God has laid for us, people will hear and respond in Faith.

How? Seek…sister…Seek. If we purpose to do God’s will, we will know His leading and the Peace of God will rule in our hearts. (Col 3:15)

I may not be a Bible scholar but I know this for sure… in Jesus…
We have Life in His name
We have Peace in His rule
We have Hope in His promise
We have Faith in His love
We have Joy in His forgiveness
We have Grace thought His sacrifice


Dear Pittsburgh Stealers, may I have my husband back please?

>> Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Maybe you have noticed its football season, and I know I speak for everyone when I say football should be outlawed. Ok not everyone will agree with me but I know you football widows understand. Would it be wrong to wish my husband’s team go down in hot smoldering flames? The sooner the better I say! I’m very serious; I wish bad things on the Stealers. They have caused a problem in my household that, regrettably, has reached epidemic proportions.

I don’t hate the game of football, I even enjoyed going to a game when the Stealers played a rare game against the Seattle Seahawks, I was in fear for my life wearing black and gold into the Seahawks stadium, but fun all the same. So I don’t hate the sport as a whole, I just hate the Stealers for stealing my husband.

Now you may think I exaggerate, but I am not lying when I say the Stealers have sucked the brain out of my husbands head. It’s like nothing you have ever seen in your life, he becomes a raving lunatic when his Stealers are playing. His mood is subject to how the game is going, he swings way up high and happy when their winning, but honey if they lose watch out, down he goes! He once spiked a football so hard on a bad play it almost took out our 5 year old.

The Stealers gain complete control over his body and mind, he hears and sees nothing or no one but the game. He screams at the TV so loud that the neighbors know the score and the fire department is on standby in case his head should explode and set the block on fire.

My husband, like most men, is not one to get overly emotional; in fact he is very laid back. He has seen me give birth to our children and never shed so much as one tear, however I’ve witness him weep when the Stealers loose a close game in the playoffs.

Professional football is every exciting, competitive and breeds character, you know with all them men it tight leggings chasing after a misshapen ball and all, I get that. But with all the mood swings, screaming, yelling and crying, what I don’t understand is how football can take a man and turn him into a menstruating woman.

I am so getting hell when he reads this….Gooooo down Stealers!!!

p.s. in case you didn't get it...Steelers is spelt wrong to be ironic...not to be confused with my normal moronic.


Whats with all that Luggage Lady!? Let it go...

>> Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Last week I told you a story about my friend Emily and how we laughed about the horrible day she had getting to the Doctors office. Emily was running late because she stopped and got herself a much needed and much deserved Starbucks coffee, of which she didn’t even get to enjoy because she was rushing and stressed. She was so overloaded and overwhelmed she lost out on that little bit of Joy. Laughing about our stress is a great way to lift some of the weight of our baggage. I do it all the time, make fun of myself, even blogging about my blunders and burdens in life is a wonderful way to get them off my back. BUT do I let them go? No, duh I’m a woman, don’t we all have tons of worry, are we not brainwashed from a young age that worry, stress, baggage and all of it is just part of life.

I remember being about 8 when a neighbor girl and I went into her shed and peed into a canning jar. Since I was always a pushover, I peed into the jar first, not an easy thing to do mind you. We held the urine filled jar up to the light and saw that floating around in my pee was dirt, gunk and a dead spider. After I dumped out my sample, my neighbor friend peed into the same jar but the light revealed no gunk or dirt in her pee. My friend, who had not ever attended any kind of medical school, told me according to the test results, I was dirty inside and she was clean. Well of course 30 years later I know that I had just peed into a dirty jar, but I was convinced I was sick and going to die. I worried about it for weeks and thought for sure I was an unclean person (and I secretly hated that neighbor girl for being clean and gunk free.)

How do we stop this worry and fretting about things we have no control over? How do we let go and find more joy in life? How do we get a clean jar to pee in? Wait for it…..it’s coming…..hold on…..ready….

How the hell should I know?? I have no idea; if I did I’d be skinny and happy, not fat, sassy and blogging about it. I mean if you really want to hang on to that baggage, I say own it baby. Hold on tight to that stress and worry, who am I to tell you to let it go?  I have crap and I’m proud, shout it out sister! Bet I have more crap then you, I once peed a spider!    Heck maybe you enjoy being a victim to your burdens, do you? Naw, no one gets off on being overwhelmed and overloaded (is that redundant?).

I know one thing for sure, Emily is no longer stressed, all of Emily’s burdens have been lifted and she is no longer looking for a little peace because she has complete peace. Emily is dead. Is that what it is going to take for us to drop some of this crap that weighs us down, death? How’s that saying go?…I can rest when I’m dead. 

It’s a beautiful day, think I’ll take a slow stroll up to the store and enjoy me a Starbucks, the dust, dishes, and drama aren’t going anywhere, ya want to come?


thank you for reading

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