I had just split up with my lying, cheating husband of 10 years. I was to find out later exactly how abusive he had been to my children much later. It made me so angry, not just because of what had been done to them, but what had been done to me. The mind and soul numbing abuse that I had suffered as a child blinded me to the faults within the man that I married. What was so funny, tragically so, was that he was the first person that I truly worked on loving, really loving. Deep down in my soul type of loving. And while it seemed at the time that it was all for nothing, it taught me that I could actually let someone in and I could really love someone, have them hurt me so badly and come out alive and better for it.
I put my profile up in Yahoo personals and corresponded with several people, but none connected like my future husband’s. We spoke of Christmas and Halloween and the things we wanted and what we liked most in life. Family, holidays and the importance of decorating properly for Christmas. 😀 As I moved from my old life to my new one he talked me through it each step of the way.
When I saw him that night for the first time that we met I knew he was the one I was supposed to be with. I never had a doubt from that moment on. (I learned later he did..but he had just been badly hurt as well.) I connected with him like I had never done with anyone before. It truly felt like I had been struck by lightening. He is attractive, but he is not drop dead gorgeous. He has intense eyes. And soft lips that I don’t tire of kissing.
We have been together for 13 years, almost 14 and it seems like yesterday that we met and in other ways it seems as if we have known each other forever.
Ellen stood on her toes as she reached for the glass jar on the highest shelf in the pantry. She groaned as she stretched further and her fingertips brushed against the cool glass of the jars on the shelf, feeling for the rough label of one particular jar.
She smiled as her fingers found what she was seeking. She grasped it and pulled it from the shelf and peered inside at the best of her collection.
She turned to leave the pantry. As she closed the door behind her small shouts of protest, angry, fluttering wings tapping on glass filled the darkening room.
Picture Credit: http://www.google.com/Darkclosets/images
These flowers had the most wonderful scent.
I saw this on a friends post in one of my email groups and I really liked it. It spoke to me of what I would like to do and to be.
who sings to us in silence,
who teaches us through each other.
Guide my steps with strength and wisdom.
May I see the lessons as I walk,
honor the Purpose of all things.
Help me touch with respect,
always speak from behind my eyes.
Let me observe, not judge.
May I cause no harm,
and leave music and beauty after my visit.
When I return to forever
may the circle be closed
and the spiral be broader.
~ Bee Lake ~
Each day that we wake up we have the opportunity to make choices that can make our lives easier or more difficult. When you live in poverty and you see your children without food and decent clothing or shelter you believe there is no other way than this. How can you ever get out of it? There is a path that you can take. It will not be an easy path. Life rarely makes it so. The path may be crooked and the hills steep with gravel and mud that make climbing to the top seem impossible. But, it can be done. With perseverance, dedication and faith it can be done. The faith in yourself that you can do better for yourself and your children. Look outside of yourself, look up into the sky, breathe the air and take a moment to focus. Find solutions within yourself and resolve to move forward and it can happen.
Reach out to the hands that may be there to help you and if there are none then go out and seek them. Reach out your hands to others that need the help as well. Soon there could be a network of people helping each other to stand taller and a line of strength that will help you reach the peak of that slippery mountain.
Blessings, prayers and thoughts for the easing of your burdens. Peace.
Even though this tree is almost broken in half it was still blooming.
I was reading a few posts on Facebook and came across this article. I think it is ironic and hypocritical that we criticize Muslims for how they treat women but our “standup” most likely Christian parents get away with this kind of behavior. A 17 year old girl was kicked out of her prom along with her friends that she came with because there were men in the balcony over looking the gym was “leering” at the girl and the adult “female chaperones” were upset about how apparently this girl had the audacity to be good looking (her dress was too short, though the girl made sure it was the length stated in the rules) and “cause” these men to behave badly. How sick is that? Not only do these “men/parents” not get into trouble for their own behavior, they are adults for crying out loud and this is a young girl.
These parents are horrible example to the children for their behavior. They are showing other young men how to disrespect women and demonstrating they have no self-control or dignity. And then these adult females are supporting their atrocious behavior by throwing out the girl?!!!! What kind of example is that for young females? I teach my granddaughter to dress with class and style. I don’t really have to stress that, it is how she prefers to dress. She does have some shorter skirts, but wears leggings or shorts under the skirt. This is because I am trying to teach her that she should be noticed for who she is, not what physical assets she has. She is a beautiful girl. I have still seen “adult” men looking at her like she is a piece of meat. My husband had to threaten one guy because he was following her and looking at her butt. She is 14!. That isn’t her fault! It is that man’s for having no self-control.
I think it is one of the most important things we can teach our sons and daughters. Respect for themselves and others. That it is not respectful to look at or treat either sex as if they are only a sex object.
Just my two cents.