Topper's lesson

Yesterday, my game hen was found.  She had been missing since Sunday afternoon.  Topper, named because she is a blue-top game hen, is the best brooding hen one could wish for.  When she went missing, I thought something had gotten her, or scared her into a hiding place that she'd eventually come out of.  Well she showed back up and my daddy made it his mission to find her when she disappeared after he fed her.  He found her, sitting on a clutch of eggs.  The last few times she's tried to sit, I've taken away the eggs because it has been too hot.  

As the sun went down last night, we took her out of her hiding place and when I picked her up she attacked me, I knew she would, but there lay 10 eggs.  10!  I couldn't believe she had been saving up that many eggs to hatch out.  Anyway, I put her eggs in the pen, sit her on the eggs and backed out of the pen and she went ballistic, to say the least.  It took me three tries to get her to sit on the eggs, and the last time I put her on the eggs, I held her down with one hand and pretended to get the eggs with the other and she immediately hit me.  I turned her lose and she started making those hen noises when you know they are talking to their eggs.  (Don't laugh, it really happens!)

As I backed out of the pen and watched her for a few minutes to make sure she was going to take them, I heard God whisper, "See, this is what you do.  You fight back at me, and I have to gently put you back where I want you, hold you there until I can make you see you are safe.  You are in a place where I can protect you.  I can't protect you out there.  If only my people could understand they are safe under my wings (in my hands)."

I sort of held my breathe, not sure what to do next.  I looked at Topper and started to cry.  I thought I had lost her.  I just knew a hawk or dog had gotten her.  When she came back home, I was so very excited.

Then I realized, God was right.  I fight Him, kicking and screaming to do things my way.  Melissa's way is always the best way!  In reality, it's not.  This is how God looks at us vs the world.  His heart is broken every time we sin, and he cries and mourns from the potential loss of a child.  When we return unto Him, He is there with open arms.  We just have to come back home!

I suppose, I'll stop fighting back and start fighting with Him.

Jesus is waiting....  

Confession....

Ok, so they say "Confession is good for the Soul", so here is my confessional.  On my facebook account I had me as single, and I am, but I'm also divorced.

Divorced from a man I dearly love(d), but also hated at times - wrong I know.

I miss him every day and every night I lay down.  I will catch myself thinking something and wondering what his response would've been, and just chuckle to myself to keep from crying.  Or I'll say something he would've said and laugh because I sound just like him.

Our marriage didn't end well, I left to keep one of us from dying.  He was mentally, physically, and financially abusive, and it came to the point where I told him 'He had to go to sleep at some point." It was after those words left my mouth I knew I had to leave, I couldn't allow myself to be pulled down to his level - I wouldn't allow it, nor did I want my parents to get a call that I was dead, courtesy of my husband.

Like I said, it wasn't pretty, and my parents took me in under their wings, yet again, and protected me as much as they could from him.  He sent word multiple times, via multiple people that "if he couldn't have me, no one could".  He would 'stalk' me in other people's vehicles, so I started praying, hard.  I knew the next step, either I was going to die, or he was going to die - via my doings or my father's hand.  I didn't want that to happen, so I prayed for God to move me or move him.  I didn't care if it was via the grave, or out of the city or out of the state, I just couldn't fight anymore.  (I'll spare you my family's suicide watch over me as I was going through all of this, but I will say, my Samson, saved my life.  Thank God for chihuahua's, smile.)

I left him on Halloween 2001, and the divorce was final January 2002.  The judge asked me if I wanted anything, and I looked at him, with tears in my eyes, and said 'my name back'.  He asked me about my things at his house, I said, I have what I need, he can keep the rest, I just want my name back, as I had hyphenated my name only 6 months before because he thought I didn't love him enough to change my name.  Truth was, I just didn't want to lose my daddy's name, that was all!

During our marriage he had developed heart problems that required him to have a pacemaker and I was the perfect nurse, diligent with his food, his meds, his exercise, I never left him and promised I'd never leave his side.  I promised him he'd never die alone, and to this day that promise haunts me.

Around Halloween 2002, I received a phone call from one of his daughters, she said "daddy had a heart attack and died last night".  I responded with no he didn't, he couldn't have a heart attack, he had a pacemaker for Christ sake.  She said no, he had a heart attack, he's gone.

I'm not sure if it was guilt, relief, sadness, physical pain, or what, but I went numb all over.  What had I done?  Why had I prayed for God to move one of us?  This wasn't what I wanted.  Then it hit me, he had died alone.  No one was with him, no family, no friends, no one.  I'd lied to him.

I couldn't go to the funeral, I thought his death was my fault and I didn't want anyone to see me because I was sure they'd know, they'd see my relief, guilt.  His daughter called me after the funeral and said they were cleaning his house out and wanted to know if I wanted to come get my things.  I met her at the house, through tears of love and hate, I gathered my clothes, some books, stuffed animals, and a picture of us on his motorcycle.  (When I finally took the picture out of the frame, years later, I found a receipt of the hotel where we stayed the first time we went to New Orleans.  I know somewhere inside him he loved me, but something changed him, and I couldn't fight it.)  His daughter helped me load up my little Nissan and she asked why the doors wouldn't lock properly and were, for the most part, off the hinges, I told her he was good at slamming doors - which sent my nerves to the moon.  She just hugged me, and said I'm sorry.  I left and that was it, I honestly didn't look back.

I have since been out to the grave site, and at first the hatred for him just poured out, what he had done to us, what he had done to me, what he had caused me to pray, then I could hear him laughing, laughing at me.  I turned and walked away and have never been back to his grave site.

Dreams, at first, I had them every night.  Satan was definitely on his job, but so were my praying parents, and it seemed the harder we prayed the harder satan fought me, then one morning I realized, no dream about him.  Had I finally won the battle?  Yes, now if I dream about him, it's not scary, on my end, but I see him in pain, fearful, hurting, and there's nothing I can do for him.  He's always out of my reach.  I want to help him, I try to reach out and he moves further and further away, and I wake up in a cold sweat calling his name.

My trail of abusive relationships ended with him.  Mainly because I've never allowed anyone to get close enough to hurt me again.  I've built a wall, so high, so thick, so invisible that only my family is allowed over into my world.   I shut off myself to everyone and everything, he became so possessive that he pushed everyone away from us, from me.  This, I know, is my fault.  In this regard, he won, but eventually I'll re-claim the trophy and move on with that part of my life.

One day God will put a man just where he needs to be in order for me to see him, watch him prove himself, as my ability to trust someone, especially a man, is at about 10%.  Again, all my fault, I chose to shut down instead of stand up and fight.  A mistake I will not make again!

This Halloween will be 10 years since I left him.  I think I'm finally ready to move on.  I'm deathly afraid I'll fail, again!  I'm deathly afraid I'll not be able to tear down my wall, but I'm working on it one brick at a time, and maybe, just maybe, when I get a doorway clear, God will allow that someone to walk through who will take care of me, and not use and abuse me.

And to that end, I ask for your prayers, so I can continue with the deconstruction of my wall, so He can send me the man I'm suppose to spend the rest of my life with.

Moving on....

[I have purposefully left out my ex-husband's name, as I don't feel it behooves anyone to talk about the dead.  May his soul be at peace.]

The Uneventful TS Lee Memoir

Day 1: 2 September 2011, The coast is warned of a TS making its way inland, so everyone on the coastlines are making preparations. This will not be another Katrina, but flooding and high winds are on the menu. Oh, let me mention here that my mother decides to go ahead with her foot surgery, as it is a three day weekend for my sister and I - Labor Day, remember those two words.

Day 2: 3 September 2011, TS Lee graces us with his presences, rain bands, high winds, nothing we don't usually see with a thunderstorm, so no biggy. This is until the wind direction begins to change and the rain bands become more intense. The way the trees are bending have me serious frightened - gun shy from Katrina I suppose. My sister and I team up and cook for the day 'cause there's nothing else we can do, but go outside and get wet - not an option. We do laundry, and nap...yeah baby, naps are always on the menu at our house.

Day 3: 4 September 2011, Tornado warnings out the waahoo! Geez, Lee could've been nice and just been a rain dumper, after all, we seriously needed the rain. All my trees and plants think they have died and gone to heaven! Delirium is setting in for me and my sister. Cooking and cooking and more cooking 'cause mother couldn't get on her foot, remember foot surgery. When we aren't cooking/cleaning/doing laundry, we are napping - what else can one do during a rain event? Oh, Jim Cantore made his way down to Biloxi to witness a squall line come in. Now you tell me how many squall lines has this man seen? They all look and act the same, so why waste the time/gas to even make the trip? We could've sent him footage! (I love Jim Cantore, but it seriously bothers me when he shows up doing a weather event.)

Day 4: 5 September 2011, Lee has been downgraded to a extra-tropical depression which the Weather Channel will no longer cover, so we're in the clear, or so we will be by 4PM. Breakfast and dinner was on us - we cooked, but lunch, it was every man for themselves, except for momma, we got her what she wanted.

Day 5: 6 September 2011, The sun is shining, my sister and I spent our Labor Day laboring over our mother. Thus far, she's been a good patient,much like TS Lee was a good TS, not too much damage (for the most part,if one considers what happened 6 years ago around this time). My sister and I are back at work for some rest, before we head back home for cooking, cleaning, laundry, and what ever else Momma can find for us to do.

Side note: The chickens loved the weather - it was a worm fest at my house. I'll have to go purchase worms now to go fishing, as they cleaned us out, of that I'm sure!

I hope everyone had a wonderful 3 day break and received some much needed rain!

I got this...

Why is it when we get in trouble, need emotional or physical help, that we, as humans, automatically assume we can handle the issue/problem without any help?

No lengthy post, just a question. We often realize too late that we need someone or multiple someones to help us through the storm.

One of my favorite songs I sing in church a lot, "Praise you in this storm" by Casting Crown, is my motto.

You never know what storm a person is going through, so say a prayer for those you know, and don't know, as God knows all about it.

In prayer...

A little devil all wrapped up in kitty form

Since this little kitten, inappropriately named Dew Drop, has come into our life, she has turned our house upside down.

She chases the dogs, WHAT! She attacks our feet when we least expect it! She wakes us at all hours of the night playing with our feet which we happen to reposition, or finds something that interest her and decides attack is necessary! And yet we tolerate her. We even LOVE her! Yes, love something so honary that she deserves a spanking at every turn.

She has decided that when we eat, she is to eat, too. She gets in an empty chair, puts her front paws on the table and waits very impatiently for something to eat. We've took the paper to her; removed her from the chair; spritzed her with water; nothing fazes her, absolutely nothing! She will fight back at whatever we use to deter her.

She's amazing! She found us, we didn't go looking for her.

She reminds me of Jesus, not that I'm calling Jesus a cat! We, as humans, go kicking and screaming in our own direction and all the while Jesus tries to deter us. Stop us from making mistakes and yet we go head-long into trouble. He comes looking for us, when we should be looking for Him!

One day the dogs will turn on Dew Drop. One day she will really get a spanking she'll never forget and she'll never come close to the table (with us in the room). One day we'll accidentally step on her and hurt her, and she'll never attack our feet/legs again. One day she will learn her place in the house - preferably on the couch or a bed, purring and allowing us to love on her (hahahaha!).

When will we, as God's family, learn our place is beside Jesus? When will we learn to see the signs and avoid the pitfalls ahead of us? When will we do as God says, 2 Chronicles 7:14?

While we wait patiently for Dew Drop to learn her lessons and grow up, as we know she will, how long will we make Jesus wait on us?

Just a thought to ponder....

My yoga practice...

I've seriously let myself down in that I haven't stopped to make time to do my yoga.

I spend my day in a whirlwind trying to please everyone, do for everyone and by the time 9PM arrives, it's bedtime for me and I'm out of hours to do anything for me.

Somewhere, somehow this has to change. I run, walk right now, at lunch because I can't find time to do it after work due to home obligations. How do others fit it in? I barely make it up in time to get to work at 8AM, sometimes I don't get in until 8:15AM and my co-workers are very understanding, the meds I take for all my ills just knocks me out and it's so hard to get started at 6AM.

So where, how? I only need about an hour, or less depending on how the body is feeling, to just decompress, get my yoga on, as my sister says, smile. Maybe a yoga class at lunch, I can rearrange my running days, I'll have to look into it. Either way, I have to get back my yoga and the inner peace I find there.

Namaste!

Ok, after I was rear-ended last Tuesday, it dawned on me that if I had been in a very bad car wreck or some other ill fated injury, no one would know anything about it, other than my family, and co-workers eventually.

My friends would have no idea! Therefore, I came up with this idea of compiling a list of friends with their phone numbers and putting that list in a safe place where my sister would know where it was and could start a call list.

I don't want to be one of those people who die and people don't find out about it until weeks, months, even years later. Nor do I want people to find out about it on facebook! Never has this bothered me in the past, but for some reason it really has been weighing on my mind, really heavy and I'm not sure why.

I'm trying not to let it bother me, but for some reason it does. And in the past, I could care less if/when someone found out about an unfortunate event in my life. Maybe the caring comes with age, or the change is within me, I'll never know.

Instead of racking the brain about it, I'm going to read my 'Yoga at home beyond the basics' while I have 28 minutes left of my lunch break.

Adios....