I CAN Change!

For a while in my 40's I tried to change. I thought I was changing. I was learning some concepts and ideas that I liked... had been exposed to before, but not really bought, like individual responsibility: I am responsible for my own happiness, etc. But, I still wanted to believe in Prince Charming. What a waste of time! Now, in the past few years I've realized that I had not really changed much, still pretty much depending on circumstances, magic, "smoke and mirrors," and hope. A wise man recently said to me, "Hope is not a game plan."

Truth has settled in to me. Real, hard core, plain truth. And, there have been nice benefits. Cliches are cliches because they prove to be true. The truth shall set you free... someone can probably tell me where that one comes from. And, it's true. Really taking a long honest look at myself, and what I'm thinking and doing has been incredible.

One of those benefits has been an improved relationship with my mother. I've spent what seems like most of my adult life blaming her for my unhappiness. I've said repeatedly that she didn't love me enough. The truth is that she didn't love me the way I needed it. But, and it is a huge "but," and one I'm so happy to finally be able to see and feel, she loved me the best she could. When my dad ran away because that was what he did, she stayed. She worked her poor heart out to put food on our table and clothes on our backs, but because it didn't look the way I NEEDED for it to: sweet, kind, soft-spoken and touching... I missed the blessing that was right in front of me all along. Poor sweet woman. She has truly spent herself. Physically: the spider veins in her legs, proof of all the hours she stood on her feet on the floor of a cotton mill, dominate the skin; her back is bent from carrying the weight of worrying about all my mistakes; her eyes are tired, probably from crying tears over all my craziness. And, I know I couldn't have done anything any differently, I was truly doing the best I could to try to deal with the emotional tenderness that I was starving for. I pray for His Forgiveness and Hers and that we all might live long enough for me to make it up to her.

How I make it up to her is this: I agree with her. She has a deep need to be right. And, as much as I hate it, she is, very often right, especially about my mistakes. It is so freeing to say, "You're right, mom." And, in my heart, know that she is, and that I'm not just saying it to get her to be quiet about it. I have found such a sweet peaceful freedom in being able to admit my faults to her. I've been admitting them increasingly to others in the last little while, but, the Lord knows, I didn't want her to know she'd been right in all her criticisms of me. But, now that I've been receiving gentleness and tenderness and acceptance from others in my life, I no longer need this from her. It is enough that I offer these gifts to her. Along with my acknowledgement of all that she has done and continues to do for me every day.

Hallelujah. And, Happy Mother's Day.

If he knocks on the door, answer it.

If he wakes you up at 3:30 a.m., get up and get a pen and paper.

He's been trying to wake me up for years, same time, same place. Most of the time I roll over and go back to sleep. Occasionally, like today, I get up and get the paper/pen. Today he told me much. Does He talk to me? Thoughts come. If they are kind and loving I'll give Him credit. Today I felt the Light, I felt like I knelt in it. I felt like I wanted to live in it forever. Anyone who has ever felt the Love knows what I mean. I looked for it for years and when I finally found it, I asked, "What took so long?" His reply: "You were looking for me where I couldn't be." I've since learned He can't live in unclean places. Someone told me a story the other day, "Pretend someone is making your favorite chocolate cake. They are going to put a little poop in your cake, not much, just a bit, you probably won't even taste it. How much poop do you want in your chocolate cake?" Well, I don't know about you, but I don't want any. Yet, most of us, including me, tolerate different degrees of uncleanness in our lives, even believe we must have it, contention, worry, pornography on any level. Fear permeates all we do and we wonder why. Today I knelt in the light and know that I never want to live in the darkness again. In the light there is safety and wisdom and direction.

Yesterday someone handed me a 3 X 5 card with this on it:

"The character of Jesus is resplendently and constantly shown in all the accounts we have of Him. In fact, it is precisely because of the matchless luminosity of his character that Jesus truly qualifies as the light of the World. It is by means of his light that we should view everything else. When our view is so illuminated we can truly see 'things as they really are.' (Jacob 4:13) Little wonder that the more we understand and experience God's and Jesus' love for us, the more we want to please them, to be more like them and to be [one] with them." (Neal Maxwell, Increase our Faith)

It helped me on my way, I hope it helps you on yours. I hear that pilots spend more time off course than on and still reach their destination. I've spent much more time off than on, have you? Our destination is love and He is the source. If you've not experienced it yet, I hope and pray you do. You pray you do and you will. His promises will not fail.

Chickens in my bedroom

Well, I've heard of bats in the belfry, bulls in china shops, pigs in blankets and now I have chickens in my bedroom. Totally suckered in by the little buggers when they were on the floor of the hardware store, now they are almost big enough for their heads to reach over the edge of the box. Their big chick feathers are coming in, they aren't too cute anymore, and I'm praying they are all girls. My landlord says if they were free they must be roosters.... but, I did have to buy a bag of feed for $10, so maybe that'll count for something. I'm rather attached to them, bonded, just like with my cats. One morning when I woke up early, I sat down in the floor beside their box and took each one out, one at a time. I held each in my hand, and gently laid the other hand over it. Each one, in turn, just sat right down and went to sleep. How could you not love that? In those moments, I understood, in a place very deep inside of me, how much everyone and everything, just wants to know it is loved. I know I'm like a mom to them. They even get quiet and listen when I talk. How much we long to know that our Father loves us, that we are safe in His Hands. And, we are. How could it be any other way? Microcosms and macrocosms, as above, so below. Families. Love. Guess I better get busy and build a pen for them, before they end up in my bed. Good night all, and much love 2 u.