Absent Minded Muser

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The Weekend’s Call

Friday is here again.

Time for the weekend to begin!

I’m going to spend my weekend cleaning, writing and arting (drawing).  Praising God for being alive, and most likely sleeping more than is necessary!

If you have a packed weekend of fun, don’t forget to take a few moments and thank God for everything He has given you.  And if you think your weekend is going to be a bad one, I suggest getting out into the world.

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I’ve discovered, I’m becoming more of an introvert than an extrovert.  I am, naturally, an introvert-extrovert.  It’s a bit disorienting.  However, I find myself drawing back into my shell a lot these days, so I decided to accept an offer to hang out with my boss and a few people from other parts of my work.  I ‘m going to enjoy myself, even if ice-skating is not my forte.

Have a great weekend!

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Don’t be like others, be yourself!

I’m not sure why I insist on tormenting myself by reading what hurts me.  I should know by now that it is only going to make me ill to read it, yet I do.  Why I wonder?
I know I don’t crave the feeling of hurt or inadequacy that beats against my skull when I read it.  Maybe it’s because every time I go to read it, I think; ‘I won’t let it get to me!’ and it does.
I’ve decided not to care today, though.  I am a writer! A warrior of words.  So what if my words aren’t the same as that persons?  Or another writers? If they were, we would learn absolutely nothing.

I have to come back to my purpose – to serve God.  As long as I am writing to serve God, I am free.

In other news (this is completely random) I bought myself a ‘Doctor Who’ iPod skin cover! I can’t wait…so excited.

It’s a lovely day, let’s enjoy it together!

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Beautiful Day

Short post again.
It’s a lovely day outside.  Please don’t waste it in-doors like I will be forced to do.  Go out and find an adventure, you never know what you may discover around the next bend.

I’m looking forward to finding a flower I can smell, and sticking my arm out the window while blasting music all the way home on this glorious day made by God, for us.

Blessings my friends!

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Darkness and Light

Through darkness, hope springs eternal.

May God be with the victims in the Aurora shooting.

I sat here for a good half-hour wondering what to write… that is all I can think to say.

Please remember your loved ones, you never know when they will disappear.

Find the beauty in the darkness, help it see the light.

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This is crazy… or is it?

This is a vein I’m going to try to follow, mostly because I think it will help me.  You see, I’ve been struggling with inadequacy.

Who hasn’t right?

For me, it goes so much deeper than some things in my life.  I can put up with just about anything, suffer through anything.  Yet, when it comes to what I love, I fall short of being able to handle it.

After I wrote my first novel and left it unfinished, I was broken.  Hurt.  The story wounded me more than I could have imagined possible.  Because it brought back to life a terrible trauma from my past – that I was not good enough.

I was reading Faith Barista just a second ago about her PTSD, it is what brought the answer to my mind, an answer that I already knew – that I felt inadequate as I always do when I write anything and get to a halfway point in it.

It blinked before me in bright lights, the fears of my past were holding me tight from my future.

What fears are they?

Fears that were instilled in me as a child by a dad who beat it into me that I was not good enough, that I could never be beautiful, that I would always be lesser.  I thought I was over it… apparently not.

For years, I’ve found writing to be a comfort.  I love putting words to page and letting the book describe itself to me, so what went wrong?

Well, when I was a teenager, I never finished a single story.  There’s a reason for that – even though I didn’t know it – fear.   I was afraid.  In my subconscious, my brain rebelled against the very idea that I might be good at anything, that what my dad made me feel like was all a lie.

How do we separate the truth from the lie? And once we do that, how do we believe the truth and not the lie, when for years we have taken the lie as gospel?

I have never asked for help from anyone but God.  I’m starting to wonder if I don’t need help, what happens if I can’t overcome this fear that chokes me every time I sit down to write?  This fear that shoves my face into my older writings (that appear better)  forcing me to believe that I can never be that good again or I was never that good anyway – especially when I read other people’s writings.  How can I compare? I’m nothing.

That’s what my fear tells me.  That little child inside looks at me and says; “don’t bother.” Because  I think I am inadequate to be a writer.

All my friends encourage me.  I can tell you it helps… for a while.  But it doesn’t go to the bottom of those black-root lies and bring life to your heart again.

I honestly don’t know how to deal with it.  I’m stuck in this limbo.  Maybe I’ll overcome it on my own or maybe I’ll forever struggle with it.  What the answer is, I don’t know.

I pray God will show me the way, because I can’t see the road ahead of me, I am blind to the light.

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Being Brave

People have told me, mostly friends and family, that I am Brave.

I wonder if they realize, that I don’t feel brave.

I face all the dangers life throws at me because I know that if I don’t, I’ll fall under their crushing blows and forever bow down to a life I don’t want to lead.  Is that brave? Or just stubbornness?

I have only felt brave a few times in my life, and after those times I’ve always felt shaky and really light, like I am not made of anything but dust and air.  Which, I suppose if you want to get down to it, I basically am.

When I feel the bravest, is when I take those steps that seem like a bad choice and end up being a good one – is when God is by my side.  Many times in life, I have denied God the pleasure of guiding me, hand on my back, voice in my ear.  I tried very hard to do it all on my own and suffered.

I need to find my Brave in God now, because there is a bloody battle ahead of me and it’s just the beginning.  I am not brave by nature.  I am brave by choice and by spirit.  By the Holy Spirit that lives in me, I am brave.  That and no other reason, makes me brave.

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Adding Life to Living

Sometimes, it’s hard to remember that we need life.

You can live all you want, but if you have no life in there, then what’s the point?

We all need a focus, something that drives us forward.  A motivation.  God is a motivation.

I am motivated by Him, the Creator of the world, the one and only true God, my heavenly Father.  He gives me the strength I need and the courage to face the day.

Recently, I’ve been struggling with a novel and God whispered; “it’s alright, let it go for a while.” And I did.

I’ve felt better than I have in a whole year! That story was weighing me down.  I’ve been working on a new novel, and I hope to have the first chapter written soon…just as soon as I find names for the leading girl and her adopted father.

I feel, truly feel, that writing is my calling.  But, there was no life in my living.  I wasn’t truly alive.   I’ve come to find the life in my living and I am sticking with my guns! Wish me luck~

What motivates you when you can’t go on?

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I feel as if it’s time…

For a while now,  I’ve been asking myself; “What now?”

My job has sort’ve dead-ended me.  There is literally no way to move forward here.

I love my job, don’t get me wrong.  I love all my co-workers and everything I do.  However, I feel as if there is something else…something more, that I am being called to.

“Sometimes…you just know.”

I heard those words a while ago, and I felt as if it were true.

It’s time for me to move on.  But to what?

The fear of not having money to pay bills, to buy food, to pay for my car, etc., beats into me as I consider that fact.  There are so many things that are telling me; “NO! That’s a bad idea.” And I continue in this loop, never knowing when I’ll get out.

Sometimes, it only takes a few seconds of courage to make the right decision.

But then, what happens if you think you are right, and end up wrong?

How do we cope with it?

I know God is with me no matter what.  That’s exactly the reason I need to make sure that this is what He wants for me, not what I want for me.

The feeling of needing to move has grown stronger in my soul.  A desperate writhing of grit and anger, of need.  Need for something different. For something new.

How do I face that fear? How do I challenge it? How do I know I am right?

This is going to take a lot of praying, cookies and a sister-to-sister chat.  Because my older sister is relying on me.  My whole family will go ballistic if I quit my job.  What if it’s the right choice, and no one else sees it but me?

What if it’s the wrong choice, and I fooled myself into believing?

I am strangled by the ‘what ifs’, I’m suffocating in the unknown.  I need to find my way out, and KNOW that it is time to go.

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When Traveling…

I recently (very recent) had to drive out to Missouri for my sister’s wedding, it took place Saturday and it was beautiful! I loved every second I was able to spend with her and my brother-in-law.

The days leading up to the wedding were so busy that I didn’t have any time to sit and talk to God.  I figured everything would be alright.

The problem is, when I don’t take the time to speak with my Heavenly Father, I get very cranky.

The drive over wasn’t nearly as bad as the drive back.  I was far from peaceful and I lost my temper quite a bit.  I am never how I want to be on road trips.  I always want to be easy-going, like when someone makes a mistake I’ll just blow it off and say; ‘No big!’.  Only, I can’t.

I’ve been fighting that for a while now, and it’s not easy.  Take it from someone with anger issues.

I was taught a lesson in trusting God on my way home from Missouri.  It is really my fault, because I was so tired I didn’t register that my sister said she wanted to use the restrooms too, and so I left my keys in the car.

Unfortunately, she also left her keys in the car.  I was so tired and frustrated that after talking to the attendant behind the desk, and getting some help, I cried while leaning against the car.  And much to my own embarrassment, I even whined and flung myself against the car crying; “I just want to go home!” Keep in mind it was 12:30 p.m.and I had been driving since 9:30 a.m.

I shrugged off my sister’s comfort.  I think I hurt her feelings, I have apologized for that.

We stood shivering in the cold until the man arrived, and worked on our car.  He didn’t seem to be having much luck, and my sister and I were praying our guts out.

I prayed hard;’Lord, PLEASE get us out of this! I know you can save us; you are the only chance we have! And if he can’t do it, then there is nothing else for us! LORD, please, please, please!’

I don’t know when I realized it, but a small voice whispered; ‘you aren’t trusting God.’ And I knew it was true.

Slowly, I let my panic fall, I let all my fears drop away and I whispered; “God, I trust You.  No matter what you let happen to us, You will be with us.  Even if we have to sleep in the gas station, You will save us.  I trust and believe in You.’

CLICK

The door opened.  We were so shocked and joyful that my sister and I both hugged the man and thanked him profusely, while thanking God silently.  We sang His praises and listened to worship music most of the way back.  I cried hard while I drove, because I realized how I had been acting and that God had been watching over me the whole time.  I had nothing to fear, and yet, I had feared.

“Oh, you of little faith…”

God taught me a lesson that night, a lesson I have been taught over and over and over again, and I have no doubt that He will continue to teach me the same lesson as long as I live, because I am a stubborn mule.

My lesson is to always Trust God, no matter what happens.  And to apologize to the people I’ve hurt for being a terrible driver.

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It’s better to be Honest

I must admit to you, my readers (if I have any), that I feel fakely when I look back on my posts.  I don’t have many “flawed” posts on here, so I’m going to open up on my flaws [Which is not something I like to do].

I’ve discovered a lot about myself since I turned 20 years old, now a year later, I am still discovering and trying to change.

I’m a very flawed human.  Sometimes I feel far more flawed than others.  I am bossy, snotty, rude and immature.  I have also been described as mean.

Mean is a harsh word for me.  I’m normally pretty okay with the word, but when someone says; “You’re mean” in a not-joking way, it hurts me a lot.  It’s what I’ve been called since I was a child.  Mean.

And the truth is, I have been mean and I can be mean.  I don’t like to be mean.  I hate that part about me, and I say hate, because being mean is not a gift from God.  It’s part of the fall.

I feel inadequate quite a lot, I never feel like I am up to the standards of others and I walk around hurting inside.

That’s on the really bad days.

Most days, I can be free and happy and uniquely me! And those are the days I love, because those are the days I gallop around in God’s glory, feeling His love and kindness.

Do you know the part I hate most about my “bad” side? My jealously.  I am easily consumed by the black monster that grips hold of me and chuckles darkly in my ear.  I am jealous of what others have, especially when I see someone has published a book.  The first thought in my head isn’t; “WOW! That’s amazing!” it’s “Man…. I’m not reading that.”

Nasty, isn’t it?

I have been praised for being sweet, kind, nice and encouraging, and those are the things I like about me.  I can be all of those things.  It feels like a lie, though.  I don’t feel nice, kind, sweet… I feel like a liar.  Not because I’m not being nice, but because I’ve never been told that so often before.

No one usually called me “sweet”, I was the little monster.  The brat.  The mean one.

You see what I’m getting at?

That’s why I want to be honest with you, because, I am brutally honest with myself to a point where I can hardly believe what people tell me about me. And that is not a healthy or good way to live, and I wanted to be honest and tell you, I’m working on changing.

You know what else I realized? I’m not hyper/goofy on here very much.  If you all met me, you’d see I’m a total spaz. [/random]

My point is, that I don’t want to look like a goody-two-shoes who never does anything bad or sees a sign that says; PBP and the first thing that pops into my mind is “public bird poop”.

I’m working on my flaws, just like everyone else, and I want to be happy for other people, just because it hasn’t happened yet for me, doesn’t mean it won’t.  So chill out, me! Let’s praise God for the blessings and be joyful for the blessings others have received!

p.s. I also noticed I like to talk a lot about other people… Note to self, need to stop that.

P.s.s. also saw; “GOP” and thought; “government of poop”, and I laughed inwardly… and no, I don’t actually regret that at all.

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