Sunday, November 30, 2008


Since I wrote last, I have hit a wall so hard and so high I can hardly breathe from the impact. It was almost exactly 5 years ago that I found myself in this very similar situation and it hurts so bad to be back I wish for the sweet release of death. No I am not suicidal. My heart is just turning to stone. Blackness is covering my soul and my being is so filled with rage and hate that I can. not. see. straight.

My mother was always very clear that she loved me but she was also very clear that she despised all that I was. I do not know what it feels like to be mothered, to be safe, to feel cared for, to not be a burden and a disappointment. My mother in law showed me to an extent. It was way cool. But she has a granddaughter that she has raised off and on that will always have priority over me. I do not hold that against anybody. It is what it is.

My mother does not even live next door yet but her poison and venom towards me has me so sin sick I feel like I would rather eternal damnation and forever separation from a God I have loved for the past 10 years over doing His Word.

I continue to read The Word and feel the powerful Truth bouncing off of me and leaving me prayerless as I realize I am not willing to Love Him enough to do what it asks of me. I can not love my enemy. I can not pray for those who curse me. I can not bless those who hurt me. I can not turn the other cheek or forgive 70 times 7.

I understand I do not deserve to be hurt like I have but how can I say I love God and believe in the Cross when I use free will to refuse It's Power? I have heard stories and testimonies of others who have been abused much more than me and they overcame the power of sin and death in their lives. Even if they still fight it, they do not consider eternity in hell as an option over forgiveness and love.

If I were only fighting my feelings this would not be so hard. I believe God's Truth trumps my feelings and emotions. It is my actions that are the problem. I chose to say vile hateful things to the woman who gave birth to me and have no remorse for it later. I even want to do it again and hurt her more. I want her to suffer and feel pain that came from me. 10 years of trying to follow my Lord and this is where I am. Hopeless, heartless and hurting. Unable or unwilling to prove my love to my Jesus by obeying Him. Where the hell am I supposed to go from here? Where the hell. Exactly.

Sunday, November 16, 2008

Home Part 2

I called Mr. Florida, broke it off and told him I was not coming back. I had the temp job but needed to make a living so I tried waiting tables. If you have gotten any idea of my personality through reading me, you will understand I did not do well at that job. I could not make my bills and support my habits that way.

While still in the Army, I had began moonlighting as a stripper (again, a bit of that in My Testimony) and since waiting tables did not work out, it made sense to slip back into that situation. That job also made it easier to self medicate. It is an atmosphere that combines the sex trade with mind altering substances and illusions of control and adrenaline producing power. Oddly enough, it was my waitress job that offered drugs first. I had no reason to say no at this point in my life when alcohol was no longer enough to get me through to tomorrow.

My Gram was in a nursing home and while her house was barely standing with no heat or a/c and only half the outlets working sometimes, I stayed in her house to have some privacy but still be on the family property to help take care of things at home. I was not home much anyway and when I was it was usually to sleep off a high.

One night after the strip club shut down, another dancer and I went out looking for some X. She spotted a guy she had dated that dealt in coke but may be able to hook us up. He got us what we wanted and then began pursuing what he wanted. He started coming to the club I worked at and we started talking. I was not interested in a relationship and he said he was not either but we seemed to be drawn to each other regardless.

Within 3 months of meeting I was pregnant. I offered him an out. No strings. He wanted in and we both wanted to clean up. The baby was our reason. We could not afford his place for a lot of reasons and after much debate borrowed money from my mother to buy a trailer and set it up on her land. She had gotten a settlement from my brother's death otherwise she never would have been able to help us. I was raw and feeling maternal and thought it would be great to have my mother there for me.

She informed me she could not be because the baby was half black. But we had our start of a family and a home and my dreams were coming true in the most warped of ways. Fast forward to 5 years later and I am pregnant for the 4th time. Married now,we had paid back what we had borrowed with interest that was beyond any monetary value, not in love with living by my mother anymore but living a life with Jesus, I know it is going to be ok.

Then hell broke open. My mother split with her husband for the 5th time in 4 years and was living alone in her 4100 square foot 25 year old falling apart house. She offered it to us. I was not willing to pay her prices again. I had learned that my first pregnancy had stirred some feelings in me that made me face the realities that I did not have the mother/daughter relationship that Hallmark profits from. I begged my husband to turn down the offer but he refused saying he would make it worth it to me. He did. But we both, along with our children paid a price higher than we ever imagined.

Regardless of the difficulties that came with acquiring the house I grew up in, my love and I settled in to raise our daughters. I delivered our 4th daughter less than 3 months after we moved in and I lived each day in awe of all the beauty God created from my ashes.

A year and a half after I moved back into the very home I had run away from about 12 years earlier, hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans, Louisiana. Because we were in such a large home so far from where the storm made landfall, we were able to offer a place to stay for all my love's family who lived in NOLA. Right after Katrina, Rita hit where my sister and her love lived. She brought friends here to stay also. It was hard. We had 13 people move in with us. I had a 1, 3 & 5 year old. I had a part time job with our church. My love worked hurricane hours. But being able to offer his family, my family, our family a place to be safe made it all worth it. I knew God had called me home for this. Besides all the healing I had faced just coming back on my own, I could offer something to others I loved as well.

We had people staying with us right about 3 months before everyone began to start their lives over in various places. The next year, the other side of my family needed me. My Nanny who is my mom's sister and had lived next door all my life got cancer. She needed me, her kids needed me, her husband needed me. I was able to be there because I lived right next door. Ned died. I blogged about it a bit. I am thankful to have been here for her and her family through something so difficult for them. That was 2 years ago.

Now my mother needs a place to live. She is a bit toxic but my mother none the less. She is not happy about the terms we are asking her to live under but I can not help but believe I live here for a reason. I live where I never wanted to for God's will to be done. I have no doubt it will be difficult. It already has been. But I trust God today. Unlike 16 or so years ago when I chose crack heads and no hot water (did I mention the trailer I lived in had no hot water, ever?) over this very house. Unlike when I had no hope and no plans for a future. Unlike when I did not live loved by my Savior. I will live where I never said I would again because I know that this is not my permanent home. My True Home is being built. That's what I'm talkin bout baby.

Saturday, November 08, 2008


I joined the Army the day after I turned 18 for a reason. I tried to join at 17 but needed BOTH parents to sign even if they were not involved. No exception unless they were dead. Unfortunately for me, they both were alive and kicking.

I moved out of my mother's at 17 into a healthier although not ideal environment. I lived in a piece of shit trailer with 3 30 something crack heads. Pun intended. It was the first time I saw grown adults crawling on the ground eating whatever was on the floor in case it happened to be a rock. That enforced my desire to say no to drugs which I held to until my resolve was broken by death. Read that story in My Testimony. Somewhere around January 08. No idea how to link.

I resolved to leave the small town in Southern Louisiana as soon as I could and vowed never to return. I knew by the time I was 18 that my drinking was out of control so collage would be a waste of money and possibly the death of me. I was interested in Law Enforcement and was told military experience helped that career. That was where I got the idea of a free ticket out of town.

I left less than a month after graduating high school for Alabama. I made it through Basic Training and began my specialty schooling to be a Military Police officer. I had my ideas for what I thought I wanted to do and I made these cute little plans in my head. Not really knowing how things usually went down, I was hit pretty hard with my orders for my first duty station.

Almost everyone got sent overseas. A few did not but were going to highly deployable units which meant they may be based in the States but got sent overseas where ever there was action. It was Saudi at the time. There was a single mother of 2 and a married guy with 3 kids that got nice little assignments but when it came down to it, we either were going to Saudi, Germany for a 3 year term or the one I got; Korea for a year. I was devastated at the time, not having a clue how good I had it.

Korea is a whole other story.

From Korea, I got a cush assignment in Georgia. I was in a relationship with someone higher in rank that knew the ropes and pulled some strings for me. I loved Georgia. I was there a while too. Maybe over 3 years. I considered staying there after I got out. But by then I was in a different relationship with a guy from Florida and the beaches were calling out to me. So when I got out of the Army, I headed to Florida to try to find a life there.

As I type I hear the Casting Crowns song playing in my head because I lived it. The one called Does Anybody Hear Her
She is running a hundred miles an hour in the wrong direction
She is trying but the canyon's ever widening in the depths of her cold heart
So she sets out on another misadventure just to find
She's another two years older and she's three more steps behind
Does anybody hear her? Can anybody see?Or does anybody even knows she's going down today
Under the shadow of our steeple with all the lost and lonely people
Searching for the hope that's tucked away in you and me
Does anybody hear her? Can anybody see?

She is yearning for shelter and affection
That she never found at home
She is searching for a hero to ride in
To ride in and save the day
And in walks her prince charming and he knows just what to say
Momentary lapse of reason and she gives herself away
If judgement looms under every steeple
If lofty glances from lofty people can't see past her scarlet letter
And we never even met her

While there was a time in my life I counted the cost of following Christ too much, I must be growing up because now the thought appals me.

So I am in Florida staying my with boyfriend's sister, knowing things will not work, yet embracing denial until it pries this newest dream out of my cold stiff fingers. I am now the ripe old age of 22 and feel old and worn out. I was dying.

This was mid-May and I found out come June, my brother was going home from collage and my sister would have the summer off from high school and I had this desire, this urge to go home and see my family. The family I ran from. The family that found a way to continue to suck me dry from across the world. I loved my siblings and knew I had abandoned them so Guilt was ingrained in me. It was me. So I went home to Louisiana for a 'visit'.

I actually enjoyed being with my siblings so much I wound up staying more than a few days. It was the first time in over 4 years we were all home at the same time. I will never thank God enough for those days because they were Joy. They were Peace. They were healing.

I had been home about 2 weeks and was at a temp job I had taken with my sister. A neighbor was opening a store and asked us to be on the opening crew. We painted, cleaned and trained the new employees. I answered the phone on June 13th and was told my brother had been in an accident and I needed to come to the hospital. I refused to let my little sister come with me and made her stay at work because I did not want her to see my brother if he looked bad.

I remember every detail of that drive to the hospital.

I arrived and told the info desk worker about my phone call. I was ushered into a tiny room that was packed with my family members. I do not remember who told me or what they said but he was dead. I screamed NO a few times then decided I needed to pull myself together for what had to be done. I said 'where is he? Where is the one who killed him?'. I was told the other driver was dead also and later found out that was not true at the time but was was soon. Good. So I did not have to kill him myself.

I realized I would need to stay in Louisiana to take care of my family once again. I cried only in the shower and slipped back into the role of caretaker like I had never left.